The Collected Works of

NICCOLÒ MACHIAVELLI

(1469-1527)

Contents

The Political Works

THE PRINCE

THE ART OF WAR

A DISCOURSE ABOUT THE REFORMING OF FLORENCE

THOUGHTS OF A STATESMAN

DIPLOMATIC MISSIONS

The Historical Works

A DESCRIPTION OF THE MANNER IN WHICH DUKE VALENTINO PUT VITELLOZZO VITELLI, OLIVEROTTO DA FERMO, LORD PAGOLA AND THE DUKE OF GRAVINA TO DEATH

THE LIFE OF CASTRUCCIO CASTRACANI OF LUCCA

HISTORY OF FLORENCE AND OF THE AFFAIRS OF ITALY

DISCOURSES ON LIVY

The Biographies

MACHIAVELLI by Henry Cust

INTRODUCTION TO NICCOLÒ MACHIAVELLI by W. K. Marriott

MACHIAVELLI by John Morley

The Delphi Classics Catalogue

© Delphi Classics 2017

Version 1

The Collected Works of

NICCOLÒ MACHIAVELLI

By Delphi Classics, 2017

COPYRIGHT

Collected Works of Niccolò Machiavelli

First published in the United Kingdom in 2017 by Delphi Classics.

© Delphi Classics, 2017.

All rights reserved.  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form other than that in which it is published.

ISBN: 978 1 78656 065 0

Delphi Classics

is an imprint of

Delphi Publishing Ltd

Hastings, East Sussex

United Kingdom

Contact: sales@delphiclassics.com

www.delphiclassics.com

Other classic Non-Fiction eBooks available

These comprehensive editions are beautifully illustrated, featuring rare works and offering eReaders some of the greatest non-fiction works ever written.

Explore Non-Fiction at Delphi Classics

The Political Works

Florence, Tuscany — Machiavelli was born in Florence, the third child of attorney Bernardo di Niccolò Machiavelli and his wife, Bartolomea di Stefano Nelli. The Machiavelli family is believed to be descended from the old marquesses of Tuscany and to have produced thirteen Florentine Gonfalonieres of Justice.

View of Florence, c. 1490

Girolamo Savonarola being burnt at the stake in 1498 by an anonymous artist

THE PRINCE

This famous political treatise appears to have been distributed as early as 1513, when Machiavelli was forty-four years old, under the Latin title, De Principatibus (About Principalities). However, the printed version was not published until 1532, five years after Machiavelli’s death, with the permission of the Medici pope Clement VII.  It was written in vernacular Italian rather than Latin, a practice that had become increasingly popular since the publication of Dante’s Divine Comedy and other works of Renaissance literature. The Prince is regarded as the first work of modern political philosophy, in which the effective truth is taken to be more important than any abstract ideal. The treatise was also in direct conflict with the dominant Catholic and scholastic doctrines of the time concerning politics and ethics, causing much controversy.

Although it is a relatively short text, it is the most remembered of Machiavelli’s works and the one most responsible for bringing the word “Machiavellian” into usage as a pejorative term. The Prince even contributed to the modern negative connotations of the words “politics” and “politician” in western countries. In terms of subject matter, the treatise overlaps with Machiavelli’s much longer Discourses on Livy, composed a few years later.

The Prince opens with an explanation of the subject matter it will concern, analysing all forms of organisation of supreme political power, whether republican or princely. Machiavelli deals with hereditary princedoms promptly in Chapter 2, claiming that they are much easier to rule. For such a prince, “unless extraordinary vices cause him to be hated, it is reasonable to expect that his subjects will be naturally well disposed towards him”. Machiavelli divides the subject of new states into two types, “mixed” cases and purely new states. He argues that new princedoms are either entirely new, or they are “mixed”, as they are new parts of an older state already belonging to that prince. He generalises that there were several virtuous Roman ways to hold a newly acquired province, using a republic as an example of how new princes can act:

to install one’s princedom in the new acquisition, or to install colonies of one’s people there, which is better.

to indulge the lesser powers of the area without increasing their power.

to put down the powerful people.

not to allow a foreign power to gain reputation.

More generally, Machiavelli emphasises that one should have regard not only for present problems, but also for future difficulties. One should not “enjoy the benefit of time”, but rather the benefit of one’s virtue and prudence, as time can bring evil as well as good.

In the fifth chapter, Machiavelli explains that when the kingdom revolves around the king, then it is difficult to enter, but easy to hold. The solution is to eliminate the old bloodline of the prince. Machiavelli uses the Persian empire of Darius III, conquered by Alexander the Great, to illustrate this point and then notes that the Medici, if they would consider it, will find this historical example similar to the “kingdom of the Turk” (Ottoman Empire) in their time – making this a potentially easier conquest to hold than France would be.

As shown by his letter of dedication, The Prince eventually came to be dedicated to Lorenzo di Piero de’ Medici, grandson of “Lorenzo the Magnificent” and a member of the ruling Florentine Medici family, whose uncle Giovanni became Pope Leo X in 1513. It is known from his personal correspondence that the treatise was written during 1513, the year after the Medici took control of Florence and a few months after Machiavelli’s arrest, torture and banishment by the new Medici regime. The text was discussed for a long time with Francesco Vettori — a friend of Machiavelli — whom he wanted to approve the book and commend it to the Medici. It had originally been intended for Giuliano di Lorenzo de’ Medici, young Lorenzo’s uncle, who however died in 1516. It is not certain that the work was ever read by any of the Medici before it was printed. Machiavelli describes the contents as being an unembellished summary of his knowledge about the nature of princes and “the actions of great men”, based not only on reading but also on real experience.

The types of political behaviour which are discussed with apparent approval by Machiavelli in the treatise were regarded as shocking by contemporaries and its immorality remains to this day a subject of serious discussion. Although it advises princes how to tyrannise, Machiavelli is generally thought to have preferred a form of free republic. Some commentators justify his acceptance of immoral and criminal actions of leaders by arguing that he lived during a time of continuous political conflict and instability in Italy and that his influence has increased the “pleasures, equality and freedom” of many people, loosening the grip of medieval Catholicism’s “classical teleology”, which “disregarded not only the needs of individuals and the wants of the common man, but stifled innovation, enterprise, and enquiry into cause and effect relationships that now allow us to control nature”.

Machiavelli’s ideas on how to accrue honour and power as a leader had a profound impact on political leaders throughout the modern West, aided by the new technology of the printing press. Pole reported that it was spoken of highly by his enemy Thomas Cromwell in England and had influenced Henry VIII in his turn towards Protestantism and in his tactics, for example during the Pilgrimage of Grace. A copy was also possessed by the Catholic king and Emperor Charles V. In France, after an initially mixed reaction, Machiavelli came to be associated with Catherine de Medici and the St Bartholomew’s Day Massacre.

The title page of the 1539 edition

The first edition in English, 1640, translated by Edward Dacres

The opening of the famous translation

CONTENTS

EDWARD DACRES TRANSLATION, 1640

CHRISTIAN E. DETMOLD TRANSLATION, 1882

W. K. MARRIOTT TRANSLATION, 1903

NINIAN HILL THOMSON TRANSLATION, 1910

THE ORIGINAL ITALIAN TEXT, 1540

Profile portrait of Cesare Borgia in the Palazzo Venezia in Rome — according to Machiavelli, he was a risk taker and an example of “criminal virtue”.

EDWARD DACRES TRANSLATION, 1640

CONTENTS

THE EPISTLE TO THE READER.

CHAP. I. How many sorts of Principalities there are, and how many wayes they are attained to.

CHAP. II. Of Hereditary Principalities.

CHAP. III. Of mixt Principalities.

CHAP. IV. Wherefore Darius his Kingdome taken by Alexander, rebelled not against Alexanders Successors after his death.

CHAP. V. In what manner Cities and Principalities are to be govern’d, which, before they were conquer’d, liv’d under their own Laws.

CHAP. VI. Of new Principalities, that are conquer’d by ones own armes and valour.

CHAP. VII. Of new Principalities, gotten by fortune, and other mens forces.

CHAP. VIII. Concerning those who by wicked meanes have attaind to a Principality.

CHAP. IX. Of the Civill Principality.

CHAP. X. In what manner the Forces of all Principalities ought to be measured.

CHAP. XI. Concerning Ecclesiastical Principalities.

CHAP. XII. How many sorts of Military discipline there are and touching Mercenary soldiers.

CHAP. XIII. Of Auxiliary Soldiers, mixt, and native.

CHAP. XIV. What belongs to the Prince touching military Discipline.

CHAP. XV. Of those things, in respect whereof, men, and especially Princes, are praised, or dispraised.

CHAP. XVI. Of Liberality, and Miserablenesse.

CHAP. XVII. Of Cruelty, and Clemency, and whether it is better to be belov’d, or feard.

CHAP. XVIII. In what manner Princes ought to keep their words.

CHAP. XIX. That Princes should take a care, not to incurre contempt or hatred.

CHAP. XX. Whether the Citadels and many other things which Princes often make use of, are profitable or dammageable.

CHAP. XXI. How a Prince ought to behave himself to gain reputation.

CHAP. XXII. Touching Princes Secretaries.

CHAP. XXIII. That Flatterers are to be avoyded.

CHAP. XXIV. Wherefore the Princes of Italy have lost their States.

CHAP. XXV. How great power Fortune hath in humane affaires, and what meanes there is to resist it.

CHAP. XXVI. An Exhortation to free Italy from the Barbarians.

NICHOLAS MACHIAVEL’S

PRINCE

TRANSLATED OUT OF ITALIAN INTO ENGLISH BY

E.D.

WITH SOME ANIMADVERSIONS NOTING AND TAXING HIS ERRORS

1640

TO THE MOST NOBLE AND ILLUSTRIOUS, JAMES Duke of Lenox, Earle of March, Baron of Setrington, Darnly, Terbanten, and Methuen, Lord Great Chamberlain and Admiral of Scotland, Knight of the most Noble Order of the Garter, and one of his Majesties most honourable Privy Counsel in both kingdomes.

Poysons are not all of that malignant and noxious quality, that as destructives of Nature, they are utterly to be abhord; but we find many, nay most of them have their medicinal uses. This book carries its poyson and malice in it; yet mee thinks the judicious peruser may honestly make use of it in the actions of his life, with advantage. The Lamprey, they say, hath a venemous string runs all along the back of it; take that out, and it is serv’d in for a choyce dish to dainty palates; Epictetus the Philosopher, sayes, Every thing hath  two handles, as the fire brand, it may be taken up at one end in the bare hand without hurt: the other being laid hold on, will cleave to the very flesh, and the smart of it will pierce even to the heart. Sin hath the condition of the fiery end; the touch of it is wounding with griefe unto the soule: nay it is worse; one sin goes not alone but hath many consequences. Your Grace may find the truth of this in your perusal of this Author: your judgement shall easily direct you in finding out the good uses of him: I have pointed at his chiefest errors with my best endeavors, and have devoted them to your Graces service: which if you shall accept and protect, I shall remain

Your Graces humble and devoted servant,

EDWARD DACRES.

THE EPISTLE TO THE READER.

Questionless some men will blame me for making this Author speak in our vulgar tongue. For his Maximes and Tenents are condemnd of all, as pernicious to all Christian States, and hurtfull to all humane Societies. Herein I shall answer for my self with the Comœdian, Placere studeo bonis quam plurimis, et minimé multos lædere: I endeavor to give content to the most I can of those that are well disposed, and no scandal to any. I grant, I find him blamed and condemned: I do no less my self. Reader, either do thou read him without a prejudicate opinion, and out of thy own judgement taxe his errors; or at least, if thou canst stoop so low, make use of my pains to help thee; I will promise thee this reward for thy labor: if thou consider well the actions of the world, thou shalt find him much practised by those that condemn him; who willingly would walk as theeves do with close lanternes in the night, that they being undescried, and yet seeing all, might surprise the unwary in the dark. Surely this book will infect no man: out of the wicked treasure of a mans own wicked heart, he drawes his malice and mischief. From the same flower the Bee sucks honey, from whence the Spider hath his poyson. And he that means well, shall be here warnd, where the deceitfull man learnes to set his snares. A judge who hath often used to examine theeves, becomes the more expert to sift out their tricks. If mischief come hereupon, blame not me, nor blame my Author: lay the saddle on the right horse: but Hony soit qui mal y pense: let shame light on him that hatcht the mischief.

THE PRINCE

NICHOLAS MACHIAVELLI,

to the Magnificent LAURENCE sonne to PETER OF MEDICIS health.

They that desire to ingratiate themselves with a Prince, commonly use to offer themselves to his view, with things of that nature as such persons take most pleasure and delight in: whereupon we see they are many times presented with Horses and Armes, cloth of gold, pretious stones, and such like ornaments, worthy of their greatness. Having then a mind to offer up my self to your Magnificence, with some testimony of my service to you, I found nothing in my whole inventory, that I think better of, or more esteeme, than the knowlege of great mens actions, which I have learned by a long experience of modern affairs, and a continual reading of those of the ancients. Which, now that I have with great diligence long workt it out, and throughly sifted, I commend to your Magnificence. And, however I may well think this work unworthy of your view; yet such is your humanity, that I doubt not but it shall find acceptance, considering, that for my part I am not able to tender a greater gift, than to present you with the means, whereby in a very short time you may be able to understand all that, which I, in the space of many years, and with many sufferances and dangers, have made proof and gaind the knowledge of. And this work I have not set forth either with elegancy of discourse or stile, nor with any other ornament whereby to captivate the reader, as others use, because I would not have it gain its esteem from elsewhere than from the truth of the matter, and the gravity of the subject. Nor can this  be thought presumption, if a man of humble and low condition venture to dilate and discourse upon the governments of Princes; for even as they that with their pensils designe out countreys, get themselves into the plains below to consider the nature of the mountains, and other high places above; and again to consider the plains below, they get up to the tops of the mountains; in like manner to understand the nature of the people, it is fit to be a Prince; and to know well the dispositions of Princes, sutes best with the understanding of a subject. Your Magnificence then may be pleased, to receive this small present, with the same mind that I send it; which if you shall throughly peruse and consider, you shall perceive therein that I exceedingly wish, that you may attain to that greatness, which your own fortune, and your excellent endowments promise you: and if your Magnificence from the very point of your Highness shall sometime cast your eyes upon these inferior places, you shall see how undeservedly I undergoe an extream and continual despight of Fortune.

CHAP. I. How many sorts of Principalities there are, and how many wayes they are attained to.

All States, all Dominions that have had, or now have rule over men, have been and are, either Republiques or Principalities. Principalities are either hereditary, whereof they of the blood of the Lord thereof have long time been Princes; or else they are new; and those that are new, are either all new, as was the Dutchy of Millan to Francis Sforce; or are as members adjoyned to the hereditary State of the Prince that gains it; as the Kingdom of Naples is to the King of Spain. These Dominions so gotten, are accustomed either to live under a Prince, or to enjoy their liberty; and are made conquest of, either with others forces, or ones own, either by fortune, or by valor.

CHAP. II. Of Hereditary Principalities.

Iwill not here discourse of Republiques, because I have other where treated of them at large: I will apply my self only to a Principality, and proceed, while I weave this web, by arguing thereupon, how these Principallities can be governed and maintained. I say then that in States of inheritance, and accustomed to the blood of their Princes, there are far fewer difficulties to keep them, than in the new: for it suffices only not to transgress the course his Ancestors took, and so afterward to temporise with those accidents that can happen; that if such a Prince be but of ordinary industry, he shall allwaies be able to maintain himself in his State, unless by some extraordinary or excessive power he be deprived thereof; and when he had lost it, upon the least sinister chance that befalls the usurper, he recovers it again. We have in Italy the Duke of Ferrara for example hereof, who was of ability to resist the Venetians, in the year 84, and to withstand Pope Julius in the tenth for no other reason, than because he had of old continued in that rule; for the natural Prince hath fewer occasions, and less heed to give offence, whereupon of necessity he must be more beloved; and unless it be that some extravagant vices of his bring him into hatred, it is agreeable to reason, that naturally he should be well beloved by his own subjects: and in the antiquity and continuation of the Dominion, the remembrances and occasions of innovations are quite extinguished: for evermore one change leaves a kind of breach or dent, to fasten the building of another.

CHAP. III. Of mixt Principalities.

But the difficulties consist in the new Principality; and first, if it be not all new, but as a member, so that it may be termed altogether as mixt; and the variations thereof proceed in the first place from a natural difficulty, which we commonly finde in all new Principalities; for men do willingly change their Lord, beleeving to better their condition; and this beliefe causes them to take armes against him that rules over them, whereby they deceive themselves, because they find after by experience, they have made it worse: which depends upon another natural and ordinary necessity, forcing him alwaies to offend those, whose Prince he newly becomes, as well by his soldiers he is put to entertain upon them as by many other injuries, which a new conquest draws along with it; in such manner as thou findest all those thine enemies, whom thou hast endammaged in the seizing of that Principality, and afterwards canst not keep them thy friends that have seated thee in it, for not being able to satisfie them according to their expectations, nor put in practice strong remedies against them, being obliged to them. For however one be very well provided with strong armies, yet hath he alwaies need of the favor of the inhabitants in the Countrey, to enter thereinto. For these reasons, Lewis the twelfth, King of France, suddenly took Milan, and as soon lost it; and the first time Lodwick his own forces served well enough to wrest it out of his hands; for those people that had opened him the gates, finding themselves deceived of their opinion, and of that future good which they had promised themselves, could not endure the distastes the new Prince gave them. True it is, that Countreys that have rebelled again the second time, being recovered, are harder lost; for their Lord, taking occasion from their rebellion, is less respective of  persons, but cares only to secure himself, by punishing the delinquents, to clear all suspicions, and to provide for himself where he thinks he is weakest: so that if to make France lose Milan the first time, it was enough for Duke Lodwick to make some small stir only upon the confines; yet afterwards, before they could make him lose it the second time, they had need of the whole world together against him, and that all his armies should be wasted and driven out of Italy; which proceeded from the forenamed causes: however though both the first and second time it was taken from him. The generall causes of the first we have treated of; it remains now that we see those of the second; and set down the remedies that he had, or any one else can have that should chance to be in those termes he was, whereby he might be able to maintain himself better in his conquest than the King of France did. I say therefore, that these States which by Conquest are annexed to the ancient states of their conqueror, are either of the same province and the same language, or otherwise; and when they are, it is very easy to hold them, especially when they are not used to live free; and to enjoy them securely, it is enough to have extinguished the Princes line who ruled over them: For in other matters, allowing them their ancient conditions, and there being not much difference of manners betwixt them, men ordinarily live quiet enough; as we have seen that Burgundy did, Britany, Gascony, and Normandy, which so long time continued with France: for however there be some difference of language between them, yet can they easily comport one with another; and whosoever makes the conquest of them, meaning to hold them, must have two regards; the first, that the race of their former Prince be quite extinguished; the other, that he change nothing, neither in their lawes nor taxes, so that in a very short time they become one entire body with their ancient Principality. But when any States are gaind in a Province disagreeing in language, manners, and orders, here are the difficulties, and here is there need of good fortune, and great industry to maintain them; and it would be one of the best  and livelyest remedies, for the Conqueror to goe in person and dwell there; this would make the possession hereof more secure and durable; as the Turk hath done in Greece, who among all the other courses taken by him for to hold that State, had he not gone thither himself in person to dwell, it had never been possible for him to have kept it: for abiding there, he sees the disorders growing in their beginnings, and forthwith can remedy them; whereas being not there present, they are heard of when they are grown to some height, and then is there no help for them. Moreover, the Province is not pillaged by the officers thou sendest thither: the subjects are much satisfied of having recourse to the Prince near at hand, whereupon have they more reason to love him, if they mean to be good; and intending to do otherwise, to fear him: and forrein Princes will be well aware how they invade that State; insomuch, that making his abode there, he can very hardly lose it. Another remedy, which is also a better, is to send Colonies into one or two places, which may be as it were the keys of that State; for it is necessary either to do this, or to maintain there many horse and foot. In these colonies the Prince makes no great expence, and either without his charge, or at a very small rate, he may both send and maintain them; and gives offence only to them from whom he takes their fields and houses, to bestow them on those new inhabitants who are but a very small part of that State; and those that he offends, remaining dispersed and poore, can never hurt him: and all the rest on one part, have no offence given them, and therefore a small matter keeps them in quiet: on the other side, they are wary not to erre, for fear it befalls not them, as it did those that were dispoild. I conclude then, that those colonies that are not chargeable, are the more trusty, give the less offence; and they that are offended, being but poor and scattered, can do but little harme, as I have said; for it is to be noted, that men must either be dallyed and flattered withall, or else be quite crusht; for they revenge themselves of small dammages; but of great ones they are not able; so that when wrong is done  to any man, it ought so to be done, that it need fear no return of revenge again. But in lieu of Colonies, by maintaining soldiers there, the expence is great; for the whole revenues of that State are to be spent in the keeping of it; so the conquest proves but a loss to him that hath got it, and endammages him rather; for it hurts that whole State to remove the army from place to place, of which annoyance every one hath a feeling, and so becomes enemie to thee; as they are enemies, I wis, who are outraged by thee in their own houses, whensoever they are able to do thee mischief. Every way then is this guard unprofitable. Besides, he that is in a different Province, (as it is said) should make himself Head and defender of his less powerfull neighbors, and devise alwaies to weaken those that are more mighty therein, and take care that upon no chance there enter not any foreiner as mighty as himself; for it will alwaies come to pass, that they shall be brought in by those that are discontented, either upon ambition, or fear; as the Etolians brought the Romans into Greece; and they were brought into every countrey they came, by the Natives; and the course of the matter is, that so soon as a powerfull Stranger enters a countrey, all those that are the less powerfull there, cleave to him, provoked by an envy they beare him that is more mighty than they; so that for these of the weaker sort, he may easily gain them without any pains: for presently all of them together very willingly make one lump with that he hath gotten: He hath only to beware that these increase not their strengths, nor their authorities, and so he shall easily be able by his own forces, and their assistances, to take down those that are mighty, and remain himself absolute arbitre of that Countrey. And he that playes not well this part, shall quickly lose what he hath gotten; and while he holds it, shall find therein a great many troubles and vexations. The Romans in the Provinces they seiz’d on, observed well these points, sent colonies thither, entertained the weaker sort, without augmenting any thing their power, abated the forces of those that were mighty, and permitted not any powerfull forreiner to gain too much  reputation there. And I will content my self only with the countrey of Greece for example hereof. The Achayans and Etolians were entertained by them, the Macedons kingdome was brought low, Antiochus was driven thence, nor ever did the Achayans or Etolians deserts prevail so far for them, that they would ever promise to enlarge their State, nor the perswasions of Philip induce them ever to be his friends, without bringing him lower; nor yet could Antiochus his power make them ever consent that he should hold any State in that countrey: for the Romans did in these cases that which all judicious Princes ought to do, who are not only to have regard unto all present mischiefs, but also to the future, and to provide for those with all industry; for by taking order for those when they are afarre off, it is easie to prevent them; but by delaying till they come near hand to thee, the remedy comes too late; for this malignity is grown incurable: and it befalls this, as the physicians say of the hectick feaver, that in the beginning it is easily cur’d, but hardly known; but in the course of time, not having been known in the beginning, nor cured, it becomes easie to know, but hard to cure. Even so falls it out in matters of State; for by knowing it aloof off (which is given only to a wise man to do) the mischiefs that then spring up, are quickly helped; but when, for not having been perceived, they are suffered to increase, so that every one sees them, there is then no cure for them: therefore the Romans, seeing these inconvenients afar off, alwaies prevented them, and never sufferd them to follow; for to escape a war, because they knew that a war is not undertaken, but deferred for anothers advantage; therefore would they rather make a war with Philip and Antiochus in Greece, to the end it should not afterwards be made with them in Italy, though for that time they were able to avoid both the one and the other, which they thought not good to do: nor did they approve of that saying that is ordinarily in the mouthes of the Sages of our dayes, to enjoy the benefits of the present time; but that rather, to take the benefit of their valor and wisdome; for time drives forward everything, and may bring  with it as well good as evil, and evil as good. But let us return to France, and examine if any of the things prescribed have been done by them: and we will speak of Lewis, and not of Charles, as of whom by reason of the long possession he held in Italy we better knew the wayes he went: and you shall see he did the clean contrary to what should have been done by him that would maintain a State of different Language and conditions. King Lewis was brought into Italy by the Venetians ambition, who would have gotten for their shares half the State of Lombardy: I will not blame his comming, or the course he took, because he had a mind to begin to set a foot in Italy; but having not any friends in the country, all gates being barred against him, by reason of King Charles his carriage there, he was constrained to joyn friendship with those he could; and this consideration well taken, would have proved lucky to him, when in the rest of his courses he had not committed any error. The King then having conquered Lombardy, recovered presently all that reputation that Charles had lost him; Genua yeelded to him, the Florentines became friends with him; the Marquess of Mantua, the Duke of Ferrara, the Bentivolti, the Lady of Furli, the Lord of Faenza, Pesaro Rimino, Camerino, and Piombino, the Lucheses, Pisans and Sienses, every one came and offered him friendship: then might the Venetians consider the rashness of the course they had taken, who, only to get into their hands two Townes in Lombardy, made the King Lord of two thirds in Italy. Let any man now consider with how small difficulty could the King have maintained his reputation in Italy, if he had followed these aforenamed rules, and secured and defended those his friends, who because their number was great, and they weak and fearful, some of the Church, and others of the Venetians were alwaies forced to hold with him, and by their means he might easily have been able to secure himself against those that were mightiest: but he was no sooner got into Milan, than he took a quite wrong course, by giving ayd to Pope Alexander, to seize upon Romania, and perceiv’d not that by this resolution he weakned himself, ruining his own  friends, and those had cast themselves into his bosom, making the Church puissant, by adding to their Spiritual power, they gaind their authority, and so much temporal estate. And having once got out of the way, he was constrained to go on forward; insomuch as to stop Alexanders ambition, and that he should not become Lord of all Tuscany, of force he was to come into Italy: and this sufficed him not, to have made the Church mighty, and taken away his own friends; but for the desire he had to get the Kingdome of Naples, he divided it with the King of Spain: and where before he was the sole arbitre of Italy, he brought in a competitor, to the end that all the ambitious persons of that country, and all that were ill affected to him, might have otherwhere to make their recourse: and whereas he might have left in that Kingdome some Vice-King of his own, he took him from thence, to place another there, that might afterward chace him thence. It is a thing indeed very natural and ordinary, to desire to be of the getting hand: and alwaies when men undertake it, if they can effect it, they shall be prais’d for it, or at least not blam’d: but when they are not able, and yet will undertake it, here lies the blame, here is the error committed. If France then was able with her own power to assail the Kingdome of Naples, she might well have done it; but not being able, she should not have divided it: and if the division she made of Lombardy with the Venetians, deserv’d some excuse, thereby to set one foot in Italy; yet this merits blame, for not being excused by that necessity. Lewis then committed these five faults; extinguisht the feebler ones, augmented the State of another that was already powerful in Italy, brought thereinto a very puissant forreiner, came not thither himself to dwell there, nor planted any colonies there: which faults while he liv’d, he could not but be the worse for; yet all could not have gone so ill, had he not committed the sixt, to take from the Venetians their State; for if he had not enlarg’d the Churches territories nor brought the Spaniard into Italy, it had bin necessary to take them lower; but having first taken those other courses, he should never have  given way to their destruction; for while they had been strong, they would alwaies have kept the others off from venturing on the conquest of Lombardy. For the Venetians would never have given their consents thereto, unless they should have been made Lords of it themselves; and the others would never have taken it from France, to give it them: and then they would never have dar’d to go and set upon them both together. And if any one should say, that King Lewis yeelded Romania to Alexander, and the Kingdome of Naples to Spain, to avoid a war; I answer with the reasons above alledged, that one should never suffer any disorder to follow, for avoiding of a war; for that war is not sav’d, but put off to thy disadvantage. And if any others argue, that the King had given his word to the Pope, to do that exploit for him, for dissolving of his marriage, and for giving the Cardinals Cap to him of Roan; I answer with that which hereafter I shall say touching Princes words, how they ought to be kept. King Lewis then lost Lombardy, for not having observ’d some of those termes which others us’d, who have possessed themselves of countries, and desir’d to keep them. Nor is this any strange thing, but very ordinary and reasonable: and to this purpose I spake at Nantes with that French Cardinal, when Valentine (for so ordinarily was Cæsar Borgia Pope Alexanders son call’d) made himself master of Romania; for when the Cardinal said to me, that the Italians understood not the feats of war; I answered, the Frenchmen understood not matters of State: for had they been well vers’d therein, they would never have suffer’d the Church to have grown to that greatness. And by experience we have seen it, that the power hereof in Italy, and that of Spain also, was caused by France, and their own ruine proceeded from themselves. From whence a general rule may be taken, which never, or very seldom fails, That he that gives the means to another to become powerful, ruines himself; for that power is caus’d by him either with his industry, or with his force; and as well the one as the other of these two is suspected by him that is grown puissant.

CHAP. IV. Wherefore Darius his Kingdome taken by Alexander, rebelled not against Alexanders Successors after his death.

The difficulties being consider’d, which a man hath in the maintaining of a State new gotten, some might marvaile how it came to pass, that Alexander the great subdued all Asia in a few years; and having hardly possessed himself of it, died; whereupon it seemed probable that all that State should have rebelled; nevertheless his Successors kept the possession of it, nor found they other difficulty in holding it, than what arose among themselves through their own ambition. I answer, that all the Principalities whereof we have memory left us, have been governed in two several manners; either by a Prince, and all the rest Vassals, who as ministers by his favor and allowance, do help to govern that Kingdom; or by a Prince and by Barons, who not by their Princes favor, but by the antiquity of blood hold that degree. And these kinds of Barons have both states of their own, and Vassals who acknowledge them for their Lords; and bare them a true natural affection. Those States that are govern’d by a Prince and by Vassals, have their Prince ruling over them with more authority; for in all his countrey, there is none acknowledged for superior, but himself: and if they yeeld obedience to any one else, it is but as to his minister and officer, nor beare they him any particular good will. The examples of these two different Governments now in our dayes, are, the Turk, and the King of France. The Turks whole Monarchy is govern’d by one Lord, and the rest are all his Vassals; and dividing his whole Kingdom into divers Sangiacques or Governments, he sends several thither, and those he chops and changes, as he pleases. But the King  of France is seated in the midst of a multitude of Lords, who of old have been acknowledg’d for such by their subjects, and being belov’d by them, enjoy their preheminencies; nor can the King take their States from them without danger. He then that considers the one and the other of these two States, shall find difficulty in the conquest of the Turks State; but when once it is subdu’d, great facility to hold it. The reasons of these difficulties in taking of the Turks Kingdom from him, are, because the Invader cannot be called in by the Princes of that Kingdom, nor hope by the rebellion of those which he hath about him, to be able to facilitate his enterprize: which proceeds from the reasons aforesaid; for they being all his slaves, and oblig’d to him, can more hardly be corrupted; and put case they were corrupted, little profit could he get by it, they not being able to draw after them any people, for the reasons we have shewed: whereupon he that assails the Turk, must think to find him united; and must rather relie upon his own forces, than in the others disorders: but when once he is overcome and broken in the field, so that he cannot repair his armies, there is nothing else to be doubted than the Royal blood, which being once quite out, there is none else left to be feard, none of the others having any credit with the people. And as the conqueror before the victory could not hope in them; so after it, ought he not to fear them. The contrary falls out in Kingdoms governed as is that of France: for it is easie to be enterd by the gaining of any Baron in the Kingdom; for there are alwaies some malecontents to be found, and those that are glad of innovation. Those for the reasons alledg’d are able to open thee a way into that State, and to further thy victory, which afterwards to make good to thee, draws with it exceeding many difficulties, as well with those that have ayded thee, as those thou hast supprest. Nor is it enough for thee to root out the Princes race: for there remaine still those Lords who quickly will be the ring-leaders of new changes; and in case thou art not able to content these, nor extinguish them, thou losest that State, whensoever the occasion is offerd. Now if thou  shalt consider what sort of government that of Darius was, thou shalt find it like to the Turks dominion, and therefore Alexander was necessitated first to defeat him utterly, and drive him out of the field; after which victory Darius being dead, that State was left secure to Alexander, for the reasons we treated of before: and his successors, had they continued in amity, might have enjoy’d it at ease: nor ever arose there in that Kingdome other tumults, than those they themselves stir’d up. But of the States that are order’d and grounded as that of France, it is impossible to become master at such ease: and from hence grew the frequent rebellions of Spain, France, and Greece against the Romans, by reason of the many Principalities those States had: whereof while the memory lasted, the Romans were alwayes doubtfull of the possession of them; but the memory of them being quite wip’t out, by the power and continuance of the Empire, at length they enjoy’d it securely; and they also were able afterwards fighting one with another, each of one them to draw after them the greater part of those provinces, according as their authority had gain’d them credit therein: and that because the blood of their ancient Lords was quite spent, they acknowledg’d no other but the Romans. By the consideration then of these things, no man will marvaile that Alexander had so little trouble to keep together the State of Asia; and that others have had such great difficulties to maintain their conquest, as Pyrrhus, and many others; which proceeds not from the small or great valour of the conquerour, but from the difference of the subject.

CHAP. V. In what manner Cities and Principalities are to be govern’d, which, before they were conquer’d, liv’d under their own Laws.

When those States that are conquered, as it is said, have been accustomed to live under their own Laws, and in liberty, there are three wayes for a man to hold them. The first is to demolish all their strong places; the other, personally to goe and dwell there; the third, to suffer them to live under their own Laws, drawing from them some tribute, and creating therein an Oligarchy, that may continue it in thy service: for that State being created by that Prince, knowes it cannot consist without his aid and force, who is like to doe all he can to maintain it; and with more facility is a City kept by meanes of her own Citizens, which hath been us’d before to live free, than by any other way of keeping. We have for example the Spartans and the Romans; the Spartans held Athens and Thebes, creating there an Oligarchy: yet they lost it. The Romans to be sure of Capua, Carthage, and Numantia, dismantell’d them quite, and so lost them not: they would have kept Greece as the Spartans had held them, leaving them free, and letting them enjoy their own Laws; and it prospered not with them: so that they were forc’d to deface many Cities of that province to hold it. For in truth there is not a surer way to keep them under, than by demolishments; and whoever becomes master of a City us’d to live free, and dismantells it not, let him look himselfe to bee ruin’d by it; for it alwayes in time of rebellion takes the name of liberty for refuge, and the ancient orders it had; which neither by length of time, nor for any favours afforded them, are ever forgotten; and for any thing that can be done, or order’d, unlesse the inhabitants be disunited  and dispers’d, that name is never forgotten, nor those customes: but presently in every chance recourse is thither made: as Pisa did after so many yeeres that she had been subdu’d by the Florentines. But when the Cities or the Provinces are accustomed to live under a Prince, and that whole race is quite extirpated: on one part being us’d to obey; on the other, not having their old Prince; they agree not to make one from among themselves: they know not how to live in liberty, in such manner that they are much slower to take armes; and with more facility may a Prince gaine them, and secure himselfe of them. But in Republiques there is more life in them, more violent hatred, more earnest desire of revenge; nor does the remembrance of the ancient liberty ever leave them, or suffer them to rest; so that the safest way, is, either to ruine them, or dwell among them.

CHAP. VI. Of new Principalities, that are conquer’d by ones own armes and valour.

Let no man marvaile, if in the discourse I shall make of new Principalities, both touching a Prince, and touching a State, I shall alledge very famous examples: for seeing men almost alwayes walk in the pathes beaten by others, and proceed in their actions by imitation; and being that others wayes cannot bee exactly follow’d, nor their vertues, whose patterne thou set’st before thee, attain’d unto; a wise man ought alwayes to tread the footsteps of the worthiest persons, and imitate those that have been the most excellent: to the end that if his vertue arrive not thereto, at least it may yeeld some favour thereof, and doe as good Archers use, who thinking the place they intend to hit, too farre distant, and knowing how farr the strength of their bow will carry, they lay their ayme a great  deale higher than the mark; not for to hit so high with their arrow, but to bee able with the help of so high an aime to reach the place they shoot at. I say, that in Principalities wholly new, where there is a new Prince, there is more and lesse difficulty in maintaining them, as the vertue of their Conquerour is greater or lesser. And because this successe, to become a Prince of a private man, presupposes either vertue, or fortune; mee thinks the one and other of these two things in part should mitigate many difficulties; however he that hath lesse stood upon fortune, hath maintain’d himselfe the better. Moreover it somewhat facilitates the matter in that the Prince is constrain’d, because he hath not other dominions, in person to come and dwell there. But to come to these who by their own vertues, and not by fortune, attain’d to be Princes; the excellentest of these are Moses, Cyrus, Romulus, Theseus, and such like; and though of Moses we are not to reason, he onely executing the things that were commanded him by God; yet merits he well to be admir’d, were it only for that grace that made him worthy to converse with God. But considering Cyrus, and the others, who either got or founded Kingdomes, we shall find them all admirable; and if there particular actions and Lawes be throughly weigh’d, they will not appeare much differing from those of Moyses, which he receiv’d from so Sovraigne an instructer. And examining their lives and actions, it will not appeare, that they had other help of fortune, than the occasion, which presented them with the matter wherein they might introduce what forme they then pleas’d; and without that occasion, the vertue of their mind had been extinguish’d; and without that vertue, the occasion had been offer’d in vaine. It was then necessary for Moses to find the people of Israel slaves in Ægypt, and oppress’d by the Ægyptians, to the end that they to get out of their thraldome, should bee willing to follow him. It was fit that Romulus should not be kept in Albia, but expos’d presently after his birth, that he might become King of Rome, and founder of that City. There was need that Cyrus should find the Persians discontented with the  Medes government, and the Medes delicate and effeminate through their long peace. Theseus could not make proof his vertue, had not he found the Athenians dispers’d. These occasions therefore made these men happy, and their excellent vertue made the occasion be taken notice of, whereby their countrey became enobled, and exceeding fortunate. They, who by vertuous waies, like unto these, become Princes, attain the Principality with difficulty, but hold it with much ease; and the difficulties they find in gaining the Principality, arise partly from the new orders and courses they are forc’d to bring in, to lay the foundation of their State, and work their own security. And it is to be consider’d, how there is not any thing harder to take in hand, nor doubtfuller to succeed, nor more dangerous to mannage, than to be the chief in bringing in new orders; for this Chief finds all those his enemies, that thrive upon the old orders; and hath but luke warme defenders of all those that would do well upon the new orders, which luke-warme temper proceeds partly from fear of the opposers who have the laws to their advantage; partly from the incredulity of the men who truly beleeve not a new thing, unless there be some certain proof given them thereof. Whereupon it arises, that whensoever they that are adversaries, take the occasion to assayle, they do it factiously; and these others defend but cooly, so that their whole party altogether runs a hazzard. Therefore it is necessary, being we intend throughly to discourse this part, to examine if these innovators stand of themselves, or if they depend upon others; that is, if to bring their work to effect, it be necessary they should intreat, or be able to constrain; in the first case they allwayes succeed ill, and bring nothing to pass; but when they depend of themselves, and are able to force, then seldom it is that they hazzard. Hence came it that all the prophets that were arm’d, prevail’d; but those that were unarm’d, were too weak: for besides what we have alledg’d, the nature of the people is changeable, and easie to be perswaded to a matter; but it is hard also to settle them in that perswasion. And therefore it behoves  a man to be so provided, that when they beleeve no longer, he may be able to compel them thereto by force. Moses, Cyrus, Theseus, and Romulus would never have been able to cause their Laws to be obey’d, had they been disarm’d; as in our times it befel Fryer Jerome Savanarola, who perished in his new constitutions, when the multitude began not to beleeve him; neither had he the means to keep them firme, that had beleev’d; not to force beleefe in them that had not beleev’d him. Wherefore such men as these, in their proceedings find great difficulty, and all their dangers are in the way, and these they must surmount by their vertue; but having once master’d them, and beginning to be honored by all, when they have rooted those out that envi’d their dignities, they remain powerful, secure, honorable, and happy. To these choice examples, I will add one of less remark; but it shall hold some proportion with them, and this shall suffice me for all others of this kind, which is Hiero the Siracusan. He of a private man, became Prince of Siracusa, nor knew he any other ayd of fortune than the occasion: for the Siracusans being oppress’d, made choyce of him for their Captain, whereupon he deserv’d to be made their Prince: and he was of such vertue even in his private fortune, that he who writes of him, sayes, he wanted nothing of reigning, but a Kingdom; this man extinguish’d all the old soldiery, ordaind the new; left the old allyances, entertained new; and as he had friendship, and soldiers that were his own, upon that ground he was able to build any edifice; so that he indured much trouble in gaining, and suffered but little in maintaining.

CHAP. VII. Of new Principalities, gotten by fortune, and other mens forces.

They who by fortune only become Princes of private men, with small pains attain to it, but have much ado to maintain themselves in it; and find no difficulty at all in the way, because they are carried thither with wings: but all the difficulties arise there, after they are plac’d in them. And of such sort are those who have an estate given them for money, by the favor of some one that grants it them: as it befell many in Greece, in the cities of Jonia, and Hellespont; where divers Princes were made by Darius, as well for his own safety as his glory; as also them that were made Emperors; who from private men by corrupting the soldiers, attaind to the Empire. These subsist meerly upon the will, and fortune of those that have advanced them; which are two voluble and unsteady things; and they neither know how, nor are able to continue in that dignity: they know not how, because unless it be a man of great understanding and vertue, it is not probable that he who hath always liv’d a private life, can know how to command: neither are they able, because they have not any forces that can be friendly or faithful to them. Moreover those States that suddenly fall into a mans hands, as all other things in nature that spring and grow quickly, cannot well have taken root, nor have made their correspondencies so firm, but that the first storm that takes them, ruines them; in case these, who (as it is said) are thus on a sudden clambred up to be Princes, are not of that worth and vertue as to know how to prepare themselves to maintain that which chance hath cast into their bosoms, and can afterwards lay those foundations, which others have cast before they were Princes. For the one and  the other of these wayes about the attaining to be a Prince, by Vertue, or by Fortune, I will alledge you two examples which have been in the dayes of our memory. These were Francis Sforza, and Cæsar Borgia; Francis by just means and with a great deal of vertue, of a private man got to be Duke of Millan; and that which with much pains he had gaind, he kept with small ado. On the other side Cæesar Borgia (commonly termed Duke Valentine) got his state by his Fathers fortune, and with the same lost it; however that for his own part no pains was spar’d, nor any thing omitted, which by a discreet and valorus man ought to have been done, to fasten his roots in those Estates, which others armes or fortune had bestowed on him; for (as it was formerly said) he that lays not the foundations first, yet might be able by means of his extraordinary vertues to lay them afterwards, however it be with the great trouble of the architect, and danger of the edifice. If therefore we consider all the Dukes progresses, we may perceive how great foundations he had cast for his future power, which I judge a matter not superfluous to run over; because I should not well know, what better rules I might give to a new Prince, than the pattern of his actions; and however the courses he took, availd him not, yet was it not his fault, but it proceeded from an extraordinary and extream malignity of fortune. Pope Alexander the sixt, desiring to make the Duke his son a great man, had a great many difficulties, present and future: first he saw no way there was whereby he might be able to make him Lord of any State, that was not the Churches; and if he turnd to take that from the Church, he knew that the Duke of Milan, and the Venetians would never agree to it; for Faenza and Riminum were under the Venetians protection. Moreover, he saw that the armes of Italy, and those whereof in particular he might have been able to make some use, were in their hands, who ought to fear the Popes greatness; and therefore could not any wayes rely upon them: being all in the Orsins and Colonies hands, and those of their faction. It was necessary then, that those matters thus appointed by them should be disturbed, and  the States of Italy disordered, to be able safely to master part of them, which he then found easie to do, seeing the Venetians upon three considerations had us’d the means to bring the French men back again into Italy: which he not only did not withstand, but furthered, with a resolution of King Lewis his ancient marriage. The King then past into Italy with the Venetians ayd, and Alexanders consent; nor was he sooner arrived in Milan, than the Pope had soldiers from him for the service of Romania, which was quickly yeelded up to him upon the reputation of the Kings forces. The Duke then having made himself master of Romania, and beaten the Colonies, desiring to hold it, and proceed forward, two things hindered him: the one, his own soldiers, which he thought were not true to him; the other, the French mens good wills; that is to say, he feared that the Princes soldiers, whereof he had served himself, would fail him, and not only hinder his conquest, but take from him what he had gotten; and that the King also would serve him the same turn. He had experience of the Orsini upon an occasion, when after the taking of Faenza he assaulted Bolonia, to which assault he saw them go very cold. And touching the King, he discovered his mind, when having taken the Dutchy of Urbin, he invaded Tuscany; from which action the King made him retire; whereupon the Duke resolved to depend no more upon fortune, and other mens armes. And the first thing he did, was, to weaken the Orsini, and Colonnies factions in Rome: for he gain’d all their adherents that were gentlemen, giving them large allowances, and honoring them according to their qualities with charges and governments; so that in a few months the good will they bare to the parties was quite extinguisht, and wholly bent to the Duke. After this, he waited an occasion to root out the Orsini, having before dispersed those of the family of Colonnia, which fell out well to his hand; and he us’d it better. For the Orsini being too late aware, that the Dukes and the Churches greatness was their destruction, held a Council together in a dwelling house of theirs in the  country adjoyning to Perusia. From thence grew the rebellion of Urbin, and the troubles of Romania, and many other dangers befell the Duke, which he overcame all with the help of the French: and having regained his reputation, trusting neither France, nor any forrein forces, to the end he might not be put to make trial of them again, he betook himself to his sleghts; and he knew so well to disguise his intention, that the Orsins, by the mediation of Paul Orsine, were reconciled to him, to whom the Duke was no way wanting in all manner of courtesies whereby to bring them into security, giving them rich garments, money, and horses, til their own simplicities led them all to Sinigallia, into his hands. These heads being then pluck’d off, and their partisans made his friends; the Duke had laid very good foundations, to build his own greatness on, having in his power all Romania with the Dutchy of Urbin, and gained the hearts of those people, by beginning to give them some relish of their well being. And because this part is worthy to be taken notice of, and to be imitated by others, I will not let it escape. The Duke, when he had taken Romania, finding it had been under the hands of poor Lords who had rather pillag’d their subjects, than chastis’d or amended them, giving them more cause of discord, than of peace and union, so that the whole countrey was fraught with robberies, quarrels, and other sorts of insolencies; thought the best way to reduce them to termes of pacification, and obedience to a Princely power, was, to give them some good government: and therefore he set over them one Remiro D’Orco, a cruel hasty man, to whom he gave an absolute power. This man in a very short time setled peace and union amongst them with very great reputation. Afterwards the Duke thought such excessive authority serv’d not so well to his purpose, and doubting it would grow odious, he erected a civil Judicature in the midst of the countrey, where one excellent Judge did Preside, and thither every City sent their Advocate: and because he knew the rigors past had bred some hatred against him, to purge the minds of those people, and to gain them wholly to himself, he purpos’d to  shew, that if there was any cruelty used, it proceeded not from any order of his, but from the harsh disposition of his Officers. Whereupon laying hold on him, at this occasion, he caus’d his head to be struck off one morning early in the market place at Cesena, where he was left upon a gibbet, with a bloody sword by his side; the cruelty of which spectacle for a while satisfied and amaz’d those people. But to return from whence we have digressd: I say, that the Duke finding himself very strong, and in part out of doubt of the present dangers, because he was arm’d after his own manner, and had in some good measure suppress’d those forces, which, because of their vicinity, were able to annoy him, he wanted nothing else to go on with his Conquest, but the consideration of France: for he knew, that the King, who now, though late, was advis’d of his error, would never suffer him: and hereupon he began to seek after new allyances, and to waver with France, when the French came towards Naples against the Spaniards, who then besieged Gagetta; and his design was only to be out of their danger, which had been effected for him, had Pope Alexander lived. And thus were his businesses carried touching his present estate. As for the future, he had reason to doubt lest the new successor to the Papacy would not be his friend, and would endeavor to take that from him that Alexander had bestowed on him; and he thought to provide for this foure waies: First by rooting out the races of all those Lords he had dispoyled, whereby to take those occasions from the Pope. Secondly, by gaining all the gentlemen of Rome, whereby he might be able with those to keep the Pope in some awe. Thirdly, to make the Colledge of Cardinals as much at his devotion as possibly might be. Fourthly, by making of so large Conquests, before the Popes death, as that he might be able of himself to withstand the first fury of his enemies. Three of these fowre at Pope Alexanders death he had effected, and the fourth he had neare brought to a point. For of those Lords he had stript, he put to death as many as he could come at, and very few escap’d him: he gaind him the Roman Gentlemen: and in the Colledge he had made a  great faction. And touching his new Conquest, he had a designe to become Lord of Tuscany. And he had possessed himself already of Perusia, and Pombin, and taken protection of Pisa: and so soon as he should have cast off his respect to France (which now he meant to hold no longer) being the French were now driven out of the Kingdome of Naples by the Spaniards, so that each of them was forc’d to buy his friendship at any termes; he was then to leap into Pisa. After this Lucca and Siena were presently to fall to him, partly for envy to the Florentines, and partly for fear. The Florentines had no way to escape him: all which, had it succeeded with him, as without question it had, the very same year that Alexander dy’d, he had made himself master of so great forces, and such reputation, that he would have been able to have stood upon his own bottom, without any dependance of fortune, or resting upon others helps, but only upon his own strength and valor. But Alexander dy’d five years after that he had begun to draw forth his sword: and left him setled only in the State of Romania, with all his other designes in the ayre, sick unto death, between two very strong armies of his enemies; and yet was there in this Duke such a spirit and courage; and he understood so well, how men are to be gaind, and how to be lost, and so firm were the grounds he had laid in a short time, that, had he not had those armies upon his back, or had been in health, he would have carried through his purpose in spight of all opposition; and that the foundations he grounded upon were good, it appeard in that Romania held for him above a moneth, and he remained secure in Rome, though even at deaths doore: and however the Baglioni, Vitelli, and Orsini came into Rome; yet found they none would take their parts against him. And this he was able to have effected, that if he could not have made him Pope whom be would, he could have hindred him that he would not should be Pope. But had he been in health when Alexander dy’d, every thing had gone easily with him; and he told me on that day that Julius the second was created Pope, that he had fore-thought on all that which could happen, in case his  father chanc’d to dye, and for every thing provided its remedy, this onely excepted, that he foresaw not that he should at the same time be brought unto deaths dore also. Having then collected all the Dukes actions, me thinks I could not well blame him, but rather (as I have here done) set him as a pattern to be followed by all those who by fortune and others armes have been exalted to an Empire. For he being of great courage, and having lofty designes, could not carry himself otherwise; and the only obstacle of his purposes was the brevity of Alexanders life, and his own sickness. Whoever therefore deemes it necessary in his entrance into a new Principality, to secure himself of his enemies, and gain him friends, to overcome either by force or by cunning, to make himself beloved, or feared of his people, be followed and reverenced by his soldiers, to root out those that can, or owe thee any hurt, to change the ancient orders with new wayes, to be severe, and yet acceptable, magnanimous, and liberall; to extinguish the unfaithfull soldiery, and create new; to maintain to himself the armities of Kings and Princes, so that they shall either with favor benefit thee, or be wary how to offend thee; cannot find more fresh and lively examples than the actions of this man. He deserves to be found fault withall for the creation of Julius the second, wherein an evil choice was made for him: for, as it is said, not being able to make a Pope to his mind, he could have withheld any one from being Pope; and should never have consented that any one of those Cardinals should have got the Papacy, whom he had ever done harme to; or who having attaind the Pontificate were likely to be afraid of him: because men ordinarily do hurt either for fear, or hatred. Those whom he had offended, were among others, he who had the title of St. Peter ad Vincula, Colonna, St. George, and Ascanius; all the others that were in possibility of the Popedome, were such as might have feard him rather, except the Cardinal of Roan, and the Spaniards; these by reason of their allyance and obligation with him, the other because of the power they had, having the Kingdome of France on their party; wherefore the Duke above  all things should have created a Spanyard Pope, and in case he could not have done that, he should have agreed that Roan should have been, and not St. Peter ad Vincula. And whoever beleeves, that with great personages new benefits blot on the remembrance of old injuries, is much deceiv’d. The Duke therefore in this election, was the cause of his own ruine at last.

Till wee come to this seaventh Chapter, I find not any thing much blame-worthy, unlesse it be on ground he layes in the second Chapter; whereupon hee builds most of this Fabrick, viz. That Subjects must either be dallyed or flatterd withall, or quite crusht. Whereby our Author advises his Prince to support his authority with two Cardinall Vertues, Dissimulation, and Cruelty. He considers not herein that the head is but a member of the body, though the principall; and the end of the parts is the good of the whole. And here he goes against himselfe in the twenty sixt Chapter of his Re. 1. where hee blames Philip of Macedon for such courses, terming them very cruell, and against all Christian manner of living; and that every man should refuse to be a King, and desire rather to live a private life, than to reigne so much to the ruine of mankind. The life of Cæsar Borgia, which is here given as a paterne to new Princes, we shall find to have been nothing else but a cunning carriage of things so, that he might thereby first deceive and inveigle, and then suppresse all those that could oppose or hinder his ambition. For if you runne over his life, you shall see the Father Pope Alexander the sixt and him, both imbarqued for his advancement, wherein they engag’d the Papall authority, and reputation of Religion; for faith and conscience these men never knew, though they exacted it of others: there was never promise made, but it was only so farre kept as servd for advantage; Liberality was made use of: Clemency and Cruelty, all alike, as they might serve to worke with their purposes. All was sacrific’d to ambition; no friendship could tye these men, nor any religion: and no marvell: for ambition made them forget both God and man. But see the end of all this cunning: though this Cæsar Borgia contrived all his businesse so warily, that our Author much commends him, and hee had attaind neere the pitch of his hopes, and had provided for each misadventure could befall him its remedy; Policy shewd it selefe short-sighted; for hee foresaw not at the time of his Fathers death, he himself should bee brought unto deaths doore also. And me thinks this Example might have given occasion to our Author to confesse, that surely there is a God that ruleth the earth. And many  times God cutts off those cunning and mighty men in the hight of their purposes, when they think they have neare surmounted all dangers and difficulties. ‘To the intent that the living may know, that the most high ruleth in the Kingdome of men, and giveth it to whomsoever he will, and setteth up over it the basest of men.’ Daniel. 4. 17.

CHAP. VIII. Concerning those who by wicked meanes have attaind to a Principality.

But because a man becomes a Prince of a private man two wayes, which cannot wholly be attributed either to Fortune or Vertue, I think not fit to let them passe me: howbeit the one of them may be more largely discoursed upon, where the Republicks are treated of. These are, when by some wicked and unlawfull meanes a man rises to the Principality; or when a private person by the favour of his fellow Citizens becomes Prince of his countrey. And speaking of the first manner, it shall be made evident by two Examples, the one ancient, the other moderne, without entring otherwise into the justice or merit of this part; for I take it that these are sufficient for any body that is forc’d to follow them. Agathocles the Sicilian, not of a private man onely, but from a base and abject fortune, got to be King of Siracusa. This man borne but of a Potter, continued alwayes a wicked life throughout all the degrees of this fortune: neverthelesse he accompanied his lewdnesse with such a courage and resolution, that applying himselfe to military affaires, by the degrees thereof he attained to bee Prætour of Siracusa, and being setled in that degree, and having determined that he would become Prince, and hold that by violence and without obligation to any other, which by consent had been granted him: and to this purpose haveing had some private intelligence touching his designe with  Amilcar the Carthaginian, who was imployd with his army in Sicily, one morining gatherd the people together and the Senate of Syracusa, as if he had some what to advise with them of matters belonging to the Commonwealth, and upon a signe given, caus’d his souldiers to kill his Senatours, and the richest of the people; who being slaine, he usurp’d the Principality of that City without any civill strife: and however he was twice broken by the Carthaginians, and at last besieged, was able not onely to defend his own City, but leaving part of his own army at the defence thereof, with the other invaded Affrique, and in a short time freed Siracusa from the siege, and brought the Carthaginians into extreme necessity, who were constraind to accord with him, be contented with the possession of Affrique, and quitt Sicily to Agathocles. He then that should consider the actions and valour of this man, would not see any, or very few things to be attributed unto Fortune; seeing that as is formerly sayd, not by any ones favour, but by the degrees of service in warre with many sufferings and dangers, to which he had risen, he came to the Principality; and that hee maintained afterwards with so many resolute and hazardous undertakings. Yet cannot this be term’d vertue or valour to slay his own Citizens, betray his friends, to be without faith, without pitty, without religion, which wayes are of force to gaine dominion, but not glory: for if Agathocles his valour bee well weighd, in his enturing upon, and comming off from dangers, and the greatnesse of his courage, in supporting and mastering of adversities, no man can see why he should be thought any way inferiour even to the ablest Captaines. Notwithstanding his beastly cruelty and inhumanity with innumerable wickednesses, allow not that he should be celebrated among the most excellent men. That cannot then be attributed to Fortune or Vertue, which without the one or the other was attaind to by him. In our dayes, while Alexander the sixth held the sea, Oliverotte of Fermo, who some few yeeres before had been left young by his parents, was brought up under the care of an uncle of his on the  mothers side, called John Foliani, and in the beginning of his youth given, by him to serve in the warres under Paulo Vitelli: to the end that being well instructed in that discipline, he might rise to some worthy degree in the warrs. Afterwards when Paulo was dead, he served under Vitellozzo his brother, and in very short time, being ingenious, of a good personage, and brave courage, he became one of the prime men among the troops he served in: but thinking it but servile to depend upon another, he plotted by the ayd of some Citizens of Fermo (who lik’d rather the thraldome of their City than the liberty of it) and by the favour of the Vitelli, to make himselfe master of Fermo; and writ to John Foliani, that having been many yeeres from home, he had a mind to come and see him and the City, and in some part take notice of his own patrimony; and because he had not imployd himselfe but to purchase honour, to the end his Citizens might perceive, that he had not vainely spent his time, he had a desire to come in good equipage and accompanied with a hundred horse of his friends and servants; and he intreated him that he would be pleasd so to take order, that he might be honourably received by the inhabitants of Fermo, which turnd as well to his honor that was his uncle, as his that was the nephew. In this, John faild not in any office of courtesie due to his nephew: and caused him to be well receivd by them of Fermo, and lodged him in his own house: where having passed some dayes, and stayd to put in order somewhat that was necessary for his intended villany, he made a very solemne feast, whether he invited John Foliani, and all the prime men of Fermo: and when all their chear was ended, and all their other entertainments, as in such feasts it is customary, Oliverotto of purpose mov’d some grave discourses; speaking of the greatnesse of Pope Alexander, and Cæsar his son, and their undertakings; where unto John and the others making answer, he of a sudden stood up, saying, that those were things to be spoken of in a more secret place, and so retir’d into a chamber, whether John and all the other Citizens followd him; nor were they sooner  set downe there, than from some secret place therein camp forth diverse souldiers, who slew John and all the others: after which homicide Oliverotto got a horsebacke and ravaged the whole towne, and besieged the supreme Magistrate in the palace, so that for feare they were all constraind to obey him, and to settle a government, whereof hee made himselfe Prince; and they being all dead who, had they been discontented with him, could have hurt him; he strengthned himselfe with new civill and military orders, so that in the space of a yeer that he held the Principality, he was not only secure in the City of Fermo, but became fearefull to all his neighbours; and the conquest of him would have prov’d difficult, as that of Agathocles, had he not let himselfe been deceivd by Cæsar Borgia, when at Sinigallia, as before was said, he took the Orsini and Vitelli: where he also being taken a yeere after he had committed the parricide, was strangled together with Vitellozzo (whome he had had for master both of his vertues and vices.) Some man might doubt from whence it should proceed, that Agathocles, and such like, after many treacheries and crueltyes, could possibly live long secure in his own countrey, and defend himselfe from his forrein enemies, and that never any of his own Citizens conspir’d against him, seeing that by means of cruelty, many others have never been able even in peaceable times to maintaine their States, much lesse in the doubtfull times of warre. I beleeve that this proceeds from the well, or ill using of those cruelties: they may bee termd well us’d (if it bee lawfull to say well of evill) that are put in practice only once of necessity for securities sake, not insisting therein afterwards; but there is use made of them for the subjects profit, as much as may be. But those that are ill us’d, are such as though they bee but few in the beginning, yet they multiply rather in time, than diminish. They that take that first way, may with the help of God, and mens care, find some remedy for their State, as Agathocles did: for the others, it is impossible they should continue. Whereupon it is to be noted, that in the laying  hold of a State, the usurper thereof ought to runne over and execute all his cruelties at once, that he be not forced often to returne to them, and that he may be able, by not renewing of them, to give men some security, and gaine their affections by doing them some courtesies. Hee that carries it otherwise, either for fearefullnesse, or upon evill advice, is alwayes constraind to hold his sword drawne in his hand; nor ever can hee rely upon his subjects, there being no possibility for them, because of his daily and continuall injuries, to live in any safety: for his injuries should bee done altogether, that being seldomer tasted, they might lesse offend; his favours should bee bestowd by little, and little to the end they might keep their taste the better; and above all things a Prince must live with his subjects in such sort, that no accident either of good or evill can make him vary: for necessity comming upon him by reason of adversities, thou hast not time given thee to make advantage of thy cruelties; and the favours which then thou bestowest, will little help thee, being taken as if they came from thee perforce, and so yeeld no returne of thanks.

CHAP. IX. Of the Civill Principality.

But comming to the other part, when a principall Citizen, not by villany, or any other insufferable violence, but by the favour of his fellow-citizens becomes Prince of his native countrey: which we may terme a Civill Principality; nor to attaine hereunto is Vertue wholly or Fortune wholly necessary, but rather a fortunate cunning: I say, this Principality is climb’d up to, either by the peoples help, or the great mens. For, in every City we finde these two humours differ; and they  spring from this, that the people desire not to be commanded nor oppressed by the great ones, and the great ones are desirous to command and oppresse the people: and from these two several appetites, arise in the City one of these three effects, either a Principality, or Liberty, or Tumultuary licentiousnesse. The Principality is caused either by the people, or the great ones, according as the one or other of these factions have the occasion offerd; for the great ones seeing themselves not able to resist the people, begin to turne the whole reputation to one among them, and make him Prince, whereby they may under his shadow vent their spleenes. The people also, not being able to support the great mens insolencies, converting the whole reputation to one man, create him their Prince, to be protected by his authority. He that comes to the Principality by the assistance of the great ones, subsists with more difficulty, than he that attaines to it by the peoples favour; for he being made Prince, hath many about him, who account themselves his equalls, and therefore cannot dispose nor command them at his pleasure. But he that gaines the Principality by the peoples favor, finds himselfe alone in his throne, and hath none or very few neare him that are not very supple to bend: besides this, the great ones cannot upon easie termes be satisfied, or without doing of wrong to others, where as a small matter contents the people: for the end which the people propound to themselves, is more honest than that of the great men, these desiring to oppresse, they only not to be oppressed. To this may be added also, that the Prince which is the peoples enemy, can never well secure himselfe of them, because of their multitude; well may hee bee sure of the Nobles, they being but a few. The worst that a Prince can look for of the people become his enemy, is to be abandoned by them: but when the great ones once grow his enemies, he is not only to feare their abandoning of him, but their making of a party against him also: for there being in them more forecast and craft, they alwayes take time by the forelocks whereby to save themselves, and seeke credit with him who they hope shall get the mastery. The Prince  likewise is necessitated alwayes to live with the same people, but can doe well enough without the same great men; he being able to create new ones, and destroy them again every day, and to take from them, and give them credit as he pleases: and to cleare this part, I say, that great men ought to be considerd two wayes principally, that is, if they take thy proceedings so much to heart, as to engage their fortunes wholly in thine, in case they lye not alwayes catching at spoyle, they ought to be well honourd and esteem’d: those that bind themselves not to thy fortune, are to be considerd also two wayes; either they doe it for lack of courage, and naturall want of spirit, and then shouldst thou serve thy selfe of them, and of them especially that are men of good advice; for if thy affaires prosper, thou dost thy selfe honour thereby; if crost, thou needst not feare them: but when they oblige not themselves to thee of purpose, and upon occasion of ambition, it is a signe they think more of themselves than of thee: and of these the Prince ought to beware, and account of them as his discoverd enemyes: for alwayes in thy adversity they will give a hand too to ruine thee. Therefore ought hee that comes to be Prince by the peoples favour, keepe them his friends: which he may easily doe, they desiring only to live free from oppression: but he that becomes Prince by the great mens favour, against the will of the people, ought above all things to gaine the people to him, which he may easily effect, when he takes upon him their protection: And because men when they find good, where they look for evill, are thereby more endered to their benefactour, therefore growes the people so pliant in their subjection to him, as if by their favours he had attaind his dignity. And the Prince is able to gaine them to his side by many wayes, which because they vary according to the subject, no certaine rule can be given thereupon; wherefore we shall let them passe I will only conclude, that it is necessary for a Prince to have the people his friend; otherwise in his adversities he hath no helpe. Nabis Prince of the Spartans supported the siege of all Greece, and an exceeding victorious army of the Romans,  and against those defended his native countrey and State, and this suffic’d him alone, that as the danger came upon him, he secur’d himself of a fewer; whereas if the people had been his enemy, this had nothing availd him. And let no man think to overthrow this my opinion with that common proverb, that He who relyes upon the people, layes his foundation in the dirt; for that is true where a private Citizen grounds upon them, making his account that the people shall free him, when either his enemyes or the Magistrates oppresse him: In this case he should find himself often deceiv’d, as it befell the Gracchyes in Rome, and in Florence George Scali: but he being a Prince that grounds thereupon, who can command, and is a man of courage, who hath his wits about him in his adversityes, and wants not other preparations, and holds together the whole multitude animated with his valour and orders, shall not prove deceiv’d by them, and shall find he hath layd good foundations. These Principalityes are wont to be upon the point of falling when they goe about to skip from the civil order to the absolute: for these Princes either command of themselves, or by the Magistrate; in this last case their State is more weak and dangerous, because they stand wholly at the will and pleasure of these Citizens, who then are set over the Magistrates, who especially in adverse times are able with facility to take their State from them either by rising up against them, or by not obeying them; and then the Prince is not at hand in those dangers to take the absolute authority upon him: for the Citizens and subjects that are accustomed to receive the commands from the Magistrates, are not like in those fractions to obey his: and in doubtfull times he shall alwayes have greatest penury of whom he may trust; for such a Prince cannot ground upon that which he sees in peaceable times, when the Citizens have need of the State; for then every one runs, and every one promises, and every one will venture his life for him, where there is no danger neare; but in times of hazzard, when the State hath need of Citizens, there are but few of them then, and so much the more is this experience dangerous, in that  it can be but once made. Therefore a prudent Prince ought to devise a way whereby his Citizens alwayes and in any case and quality of time may have need of his government, and they shall alwaies after prove faithfull to him.

CHAP. X. In what manner the Forces of all Principalities ought to be measured.

It is requisite in examining the quality of those Principalities, to have another consideration of them, that is, if a Prince have such dominions, that he is able in case of necessity to subsist of himself, or else whether he hath alwaies need of another to defend him. And to cleer this point the better, I judge them able to stand of themselves, who are of power either for their multitudes of men, or quantity of money, to bring into the field a compleat armie, and joyn battel with whoever comes to assail them: and so I think those alwaies to stand in need of others help, who are not able to appear in the field against the enemy, but are forc’d to retire within their walls and guard them. Touching the first case, we have treated already, and shall adde somwhat thereto as occasion shall require. In the second case, we cannot say other, save only to encourage such Princes to fortifie and guard their own Capital city, and of the countrey about, not to hold much account; and whoever shall have well fortified that town, and touching other matters of governments shall have behaved himself towards his subjects, as hath been formerly said, and hereafter shall be, shall never be assaild but with great regard; for men willingly undertake not enterprises, where they see difficulty to work them through; nor can much facility be there found, where one assails him, who hath his town strong and wel guarded, and is not  hated of his people. The cities of Germany are very free; they have but very little of the countrey about them belonging to them; and they obey the Emperor, when they please, and they stand not in fear, neither of him nor any other Potentate about them: for they are in such a manner fortified, that every one thinks the siege of any of them would prove hard and tedious: for all of them have ditches, and rampires, and good store of Artillery, and alwaies have their publick cellars well provided with meat and drink and firing for a yeer: besides this, whereby to feed the common people, and without any loss to the publick, they have alwaies in common whereby they are able for a year to imploy them in the labor of those trades that are the sinews and the life of that city, and of that industry whereby the commons ordinarily supported themselves: they hold up also the military exercises in repute, and hereupon have they many orders to maintain them. A Prince then that is master of a good strong city, and causeth not himself to be hated, cannot be assaulted; and in case he were, he that should assail him, would be fain to quit him with shame: for the affairs of the world are so various, that it is almost impossible that an army can lie incampt before a town for the space of a whole yeer: and if any should reply, that the people having their possessions abroad, in case they should see them a fire, would not have patience, and the tedious siege and their love to themselves would make them forget their Prince: I answer that a Prince puissant and couragious, will easily master those difficulties, now giving his subjects hope, that the mischief will not be of durance; sometimes affright them with the cruelty of their enemies, and other whiles cunningly securing himself of those whom he thinks too forward to run to the enemy. Besides this by ordinary reason the enemy should burne and waste their countrey, upon his arrival, and at those times while mens minds are yet warme, and resolute in their defence: and therefore so much the less ought a Prince doubt: for after some few dayes, that their courages grow coole, the dammages are all done, and mischiefs received, and there is no help for  it, and then have they more occasion to cleave faster to their Prince, thinking he is now more bound to them, their houses having for his defence been fired, and their possessions wasted; and mens nature is as well to hold themselves oblig’d for the kindnesses they do, as for those they receive; whereupon if all be well weigh’d, a wise Prince shall not find much difficulty to keep sure and true to him his Citizens hearts at the beginning and latter end of the siege, when he hath no want of provision for food and ammunition.

CHAP. XI. Concerning Ecclesiastical Principalities.

There remains now only that we treat of the Ecclesiastical Principalities, about which all the difficulties are before they are gotten: for they are attained to either by vertue, or Fortune; and without the one or the other they are held: for they are maintaind by orders inveterated in the religion, all which are so powerfull and of such nature, that they maintain their Princes in their dominions in what manner soever they proceed and live. These only have an Estate and defend it not; have subjects and govern them not; and yet their States because undefended, are not taken from them; nor their subjects, though not govern’d, care not, think not, neither are able to aliene themselves from them. These Principalities then are only happy and secure: but they being sustained by superior causes, whereunto humane understanding reaches not, I will not meddle with them: for being set up and maintained by God, it would be the part of a presumptuous and rash man to enter into discourse of them. Yet if any man should ask me whence it proceeds, that the Church in temporal power hath attaind to such greatness, seeing that till the time of Alexander the sixt, the Italian Potentates,  and not only they who are entituled the potentates, but every Baron and Lord though of the meanest condition in regard of the temporality, made but small account of it; and now a King of France trembles at the power thereof; and it hath been able to drive him out of Italy, and ruine the Venetians; and however this be well known, me thinks it is not superstitious in some part to recall it to memory. Before that Charles King of France past into Italy, this countrey was under the rule of the Pope, Venetians, the King of Naples, the Duke of Milan, and the Florentines. These Potentates took two things principally to their care; the one, that no forreiner should invade Italy; the other that no one of them should inlarge their State. They, against whom this care was most taken, were the Pope and the Venetians; and to restrain the Venetians, there needed the union of all the rest, as it was in the defence of Ferrara; and to keep the Pope low, they served themselves of the Barons of Rome, who being divided into two factions, the Orsini and Colonnesi, there was alwaies occasion of offence between them, who standing ready with their armes in hand in the view of the Pope, held the Popedome weak and feeble: and however sometimes there arose a couragious Pope, as was Sextus; yet either his fortune, or his wisdome was not able to free him of these incommodities, and the brevity of their lives was the cause thereof; for in ten years, which time, one with another, Popes ordinarily liv’d, with much ado could they bring low one of the factions. And if, as we may say, one had near put out the Colonnesi, there arose another enemy to the Orsini, who made them grow again, so that there was never time quite to root them out. This then was the cause, why the Popes temporal power was of small esteem in Italy; there arose afterwards Pope Alexander the sixt, who of all the Popes that ever were, shewed what a Pope was able to do with money and forces: and he effected, by means of his instrument, Duke Valentine, and by the ocasion of the French mens passage, all those things which I have formerly discoursed upon in the Dukes actions: and however his purpose was nothing at all to  inlarge the Church dominions, but to make the Duke great; yet what he did, turnd to the Churches advantage, which after his death when the Duke was taken away, was the heir of all his pains. Afterwards succeeded Pope Julius, and found the Church great, having all Romania, and all the Barons of Rome being quite rooted out, and by Alexanders persecutions, all their factions worne down; he found also the way open for the heaping up of moneys, never practised before Alexanders time; which things Julius not only follow’d, but augmented; and thought to make himself master of Bolonia, and extinguish the Venetians, and chase the French men out of Italy: and these designes of his prov’d all lucky to him, and so much the more to his praise in that he did all for the good of the Church, and in no private regard: he kept also the factions of the Orsins and Colonnesi, in the same State he found them: and though there were among them some head whereby to cause an alteration; yet two things have held them quiet; the one the power of the Church, which somewhat affrights them; the other because they have no Cardinals of their factions, who are the primary causes of all the troubles amongst them: nor shall these parties ever be at rest, while they have Cardinals; because they nourish the factions both in Rome, and abroad; and the Barons then are forced to undertake the defence of them: and thus from the Prelates ambitions arise the discords and tumults among the Barons. And now hath Pope Leo his Holiness found the Popedome exceeding puissant, of whom it is hoped, that if they amplified it by armes, he by his goodness, and infinite other vertues, will much more advantage and dignifie it.

CHAP. XII. How many sorts of Military discipline there are and touching Mercenary soldiers.

Having treated particularly of the qualities of those Principalities, which in the beginning I propounded to discourse upon, and considered in some part the reasons of their well and ill being, and shewd the waies whereby many have sought to gain, and hold them, it remains now that I speak in general of the offences and defences, that may chance in each of the forenamed. We have formerly said that it is necessary for a Prince to have good foundations laid; otherwise it must needs be that he go to wrack. The Principal foundations that all States have, as well new, as old, or mixt, are good laws, and good armes; and because there cannot be good laws, where there are not good armes; and where there are good armes, there must needs be good laws, I will omit to discourse of the laws, and speak of armes. I say then that the armes, wherewithall a Prince defends his State, either are his own, or mercenary, or auxiliary, or mixt. Those that are mercenary and auxiliar, are unprofitable, and dangerous, and if any one holds his State founded upon mercenary armes, he shall never be quiet, nor secure, because they are never well united, ambitious, and without discipline, treacherous, among their friends stour, among their enemies cowardly; they have no fear of God, nor keep any faith with men; and so long only defer they the doing of mischief, till the enemy comes to assul thee; and in time of peace thou art despoyled by them, in war by thy enemies: the reason hereof is, because they have no other love, nor other cause to keep them in the field, but only a small stipend, which is not of force to make them willing to hazard their lives for thee: they are willing indeed to be thy soldiers, till thou goest to fight; but then they fly, or  run away; which thing would cost me but small pains to perswade; for the ruine of Italy hath not had any other cause now a dayes, than for that it hath these many years rely’d upon mercenary armes; which a good while since perhaps may have done some man some service, and among themselves they may have been thought valiant: but so soon as any forrein enemy appeared, they quickly shewed what they were. Whereupon Charles the King of France, without opposition, made himself master of all Italy: and he that said, that the causes thereof were our faults, said true; but these were not those they beleeved, but what I have told; and because they were the Princes faults, they also have suffered the punishment. I will fuller shew the infelicity of these armes. The mercenary Captains are either very able men, or not: if they be, thou canst not repose any trust in them: for they will alwaies aspire unto their own proper advancements, either by suppressing of thee that art their Lord, or by suppressing of some one else quite out of thy purpose: but if the Captain be not valorous, he ordinarily ruines thee: and in case it be answered, that whoever shall have his armes in his hands, whether mercenary or not, will do so: I would reply, that armes are to be imployed either by a Prince, or Common-wealth. The Prince ought to go in person, and performe the office of a commander: the Republick is to send forth her Citizens: and when she sends forth one that proves not of abilities, she ought to change him then; and when he does prove valorous, to bridle him so by the laws, that he exceed not his commission. And by experience we see, that Princes and Republiques of themselves alone, make very great conquests; but that mercenary armes never do other than harme; and more hardly falls a Republick armed with her own armes under the obedience of one of her own Citizens, than one that is armed by forrein armes. Rome and Sparta subsisted many ages armed and free. The Swissers are exceedingly well armed, and yet very free. Touching mercenary armes that were of old, we have an example of the Carthagians, who near upon were oppress’d by their own mercenary soldiers, when the first war  with the Romans was finished; however the Carthagians had their own Citizens for their Captains. Philip of Macedon was made by the Thebans after Epaminondas his death, General of their Armies; and after the victory, he took from them liberty. The Milaneses when Duke Philip was dead, entertaind Francis Sforza into their pay against the Venetians, who having vanquisht their enemie at Caravaggio, afterwards joyned with them, where by to usurp upon the Milaneses his Masters. Sforza his father, being in Joan the Queen of Naples pay, left her on a sudden disarmed; whereupon she, to save her Kingdom, was constraind to cast her self into the King of Arrragon’s bosome. And in case the Venetians and the Florentines have formerly augmented their State with these kind of armes, and their own Captains, and yet none of them have ever made themselves their Princes, but rather defended them: I answer, that the Florentines in this case have had fortune much their friend: for of valorous Captains, which they might any way fear, some have not been victors, some have had opposition, and others have laid the aim of their ambitions another way. He who overcame not, was John Aouto, of whose faith there could no proof be made, being he vanquisht not; but every one will acknowledge, that, had he vanquisht, the Florentines were at his discretion. Sforza had alwaies the Bracceschi for his adversaries, so that they were as a guard one upon another. Francis converted all his ambition against Lombardy. Braccio against the Church, and the Kingdome of Naples. But let us come to that which followed a while agoe. The Florentines made Paul Vitelli their General, a throughly advis’d man, and who from a private fortune had rose to very great reputation: had he taken Pisa, no man will deny but that the Florentines must have held fast with him; for had he been entertained in their enemies pay, they had no remedy; and they themselves holding of him, of force were to obey him. The Venetians, if we consider their proceedings, we shall see wrought both warily and gloriously, while themselves made war, which was before their undertakings by land, where the gentlemen  with their own Commons in armes behav’d themselves bravely: but when they began to fight by land, they lost their valor, and follow’d the customes of Italy; and in the beginning of their enlargement by land, because they had not much territory, and yet were of great reputation, they had not much cause to fear their Captains; but as they began to extend their bounds, which was under their Commander Carminiola, they had a taste of this error: for perceiving he was exceeding valorous, having under his conduct beaten the Duke of Milan; and knowing on the other side, how he was cold in the war, they judg’d that they could not make any great conquest with him; and because they neither would, nor could cashier him, that they might not lose what they had gotten, they were forced for their own safeties to put him to death. Since they have had for their General Bartholomew of Berganio, Robert of St. Severin, the Count of Petilian, and such like: whereby they were to fear their losses, as well as to hope for gain: as it fell out afterwards at Vayla, where in one day they lost that, which with so much pains they had gotten in eight hundred years: for from these kind of armes grow slack and slow and weak gains; but sudden and wonderfull losses: And because I am now come with these examples into Italy, which now these many years, have been governd by mercenary armes, I will search deeper into them, to the end that their course and progress being better discoverd, they may be the better amended. You have to understand, that so soon as in these later times the yoak of the Italian Empire began to be shaken off, and the Pope had gotten reputation in the temporality, Italy was divided into several States: for many of the great cities took armes against their Nobility; who under the Emperors protection had held them in oppression; and the Pope favored these, whereby he might get himself reputation, in the temporality; of many others, their Citizens became Princes, so that hereupon Italy being come into the Churches hands as it were, and some few Republicks, those Priests and Citizens not accustomed to the use of armes, began to take strangers to their pay. The first that gave  reputation to these soldiers was Alberick of Como in Romania. From his discipline among others descended Brachio and Sforza, who in their time were the arbitres of Italy; after these followed all others, who even till our dayes have commanded the armes of Italy; and the success of their valor hath been, that it was overrun by Charles, pillaged by Lewis, forc’d by Ferdinand, and disgrac’d by the Swissers. The order which they have held, hath been, first whereby to give reputation to their own armes to take away the credit of the Infantry. This they did, because they having no State of their own, but living upon their industry, their few foot gave them no reputation, and many they were not able to maintain; whereupon they reduc’d themselves to cavalery, and so with a supportable number they were entertained and honored: and matters were brought to such termes, that in an army of twenty thousand soldiers you should not find two thousand foot. They had moreover us’d all industry to free themselves and their soldiers of all pains and fear, in their skirmishes, not killing, but taking one another prisoners, and without ransome for their freedom; they repaired not all to their tents by night, nor made palizado or trench thereabout, nor lay in the field in the summer: and all these things were thus contrived and agreed of among them in their military orders, whereby (as is said) to avoid pains and dangers, insomuch as they have brought Italy into slavery and disgrace.

CHAP. XIII. Of Auxiliary Soldiers, mixt, and native.

The Auxiliary forces, being the other kind of unprofitable armes, are, when any puissant one is called in, who with his forces comes to assist and defend thee; such as in these later times did Pope Julius use, who having seen the evil proof of his mercenary soldiers in the enterprize of Ferrara, applied himself to the Auxiliaries, and agreed with Ferdinand King of Spain, that with his Forces he should aid him. These armes may be profitable and advantagious for themselves; but for him that calls them in, hurtfull; because in losing, thou art left defeated; and conquering, thou becomest their prisoner. And however that of these examples the ancient stories are full fraught; yet will I not part from this of Pope Julius the second, which is as yet fresh: whose course could not have been more inconsiderate, for the desire he had to get Ferrara, putting himself wholly into strangers hands: but his good fortune caused another cause to arise, that hindred him from receiving the fruit of his evil choice; for his Auxiliaries being broken at Ravenna, and the Swissers thereupon arriving, who put the Conquerors to flight beyond all opinion, even their own and others, he chanced not to remain his enemies prisoner, they being put to flight, nor prisoner to his Auxiliaries, having vanquished by other forces than theirs. The Florentines being wholly disarmed, brought ten thousand French to Pisa for to take it: by which course they ran more hazzard, than in any time of their troubles. The Emperor of Constantinople, to oppress his neighbors, brought into Greece ten thousand Turks, who when the war was ended, could not be got out thence, which was the beginning of Greeces servitude under the Infidels. He then that will in no case be able to overcome, let him serve himself of these armes; for they are much  more dangerous than the mercenaries; for by those thy ruine is more suddenly executed; for they are all united, and all bent to the obedience of another. But for the mercenaries to hurt thee, when they have vanquished, there is no more need of time, and greater occasion, they not being all united in a body, and being found out and paid by thee, wherein a third that thou mak’st their head, cannot suddenly gaine so great authority, that he can endammage thee. In summe, in the mercenaries their sloth and lazinesse to fight is more dangerous: in the auxiliaries their valour. Wherefore a wise Prince hath alwayes avoyded these kind of armes, and betaken himselfe to his owne, and desired rather to loss with his owne, than conquer with anothers, accounting that not a true victorie which was gotten with others armes. I will not doubt to alleadge Cæsar Borgia, and his actions. This Duke entred into Romania with auxiliarie armes, bringing with him all French souldiers: but afterwards not accounting those armes secure, bent himselfe to mercenaries, judging lesse danger to be in those, and tooke in pay the Orsini and the Vitelli, which afterwards in the proof of them, finding wavering, unfaithful, and dangerous, he extinguishd, and betook himselfe to his owne; and it may easily be perceiv’d what difference there is between the one and the other of these armes, considering the difference that was between the Dukes reputation, when he had the French men alone, and when he had the Orsini and Vitelli; but when he remaind with his own, and stood of himselfe, we shall find it was much augmented: nor ever was it of grate esteeme, but when every one saw, that he wholly possessed his owne armes. I thought not to have parted from the Italian examples of late memory; but that I must not let passe that of Hiero the Siracusan, being one of those I formerly nam’d. This man (as I said before) being made general of the Siracusans forces, knew presently that mercenary souldiery was nothing for their profit in that they were hirelings, as our Italians are; and finding no way either to hold, or cashier them made them all bee cut to peeces, and afterwards waged warre with his owne men, and  none others. I will also call to memory a figure of the old Testament serving just to this purpose. When David presented himselfe before Saul to goe to fight with Goliah the Philistins Champion, Saul to encourage him, clad him with his owne armes, which David when he had them upon back, refused, saying, he was not able to make any proofe of himself therein, and therefore would goe meet the enemy with his own sling and sword. In summe, others armes either fall from thy shoulders, or cumber or streighten thee. Charls the seventh, Father of Lewis the eleventh, having by his good fortune and valour set France at liberty from the English, knew well this necessity of being arm’d with his owne armes, and settled in his Kingdome the ordinances of men at armes, and infantry. Afterwards King Lewis his sonne abolisht those of the infantry, and began to take the Swissers to pay; which errour follow’d by the others, is (as now indeed it appeares) the cause of that Kingdomes dangers. For having given reputation to the Swissers, they have renderd all their own armes contemptible; for this hath wholly ruind their foot, and oblig’d their men at armes to forrein armes: for being accustomed to serve with the Swissers, they think they are not able to overcome without them. From whence it comes that the French are not of force against the Swissers, and without them also against others they use not to adventure. Therefore are the French armies mixt, part mercenaries, and part natives, which armes are farre better than the simple mercenaries or simple auxiliaries, and much inferiour to the natives; and let the said example suffice for that: for the Kingdome of France would have been unconquerable, if Charles his order had been augmented and maintaind: but men in their small wisdome begin a thing, which then because it hath some favour of good, discovers not the poyson that lurkes thereunder, as I before said of the hectick feavers. Wherefore that Prince which perceives not mischiefes, but as they grow up, is not truely wise; and this is given but to few: and if we consider the first ruine of the Romane Empire, we shall find it was from taking the Goths first  into their pay; for from that beginning the forces of the Romane Empire began to grow weak, and all the valour that was taken hence was given to them. I conclude then that without having armes of their owne, no Principality can be secure, or rather is wholly oblig’d to fortune, not having valour to shelter it in adversity. And it was alwayes the opinion and saying of wise men, that nothing is so weak and unsetled, as is the reputation of power not founded upon ones owne proper forces: which are those that are composed of thy subjects, or Citizens, or servants; all the rest are mercenary or auxiliary; and the manner how to order those well, is easie to find out, if those orders above nam’d by me, shall be but run over, and if it shall be but consider’d, how Philip Alexander the Great his Father, and in what manner many Republicks and Princes have armd and appointed themselves, to which appointments I referre my selfe wholly.

CHAP. XIV. What belongs to the Prince touching military Discipline.

A prince then ought to have no other ayme, nor other thought, nor take any thing else for his proper art, but warr, and the orders and discipline thereof: for that is the sole arte which belongs to him that commands, and is of so great excellency, that not only those that are borne Princes, it maintains so; but many times raises men from a private fortune to that dignity. And it is seene by the contrary, that when Princes have given themselves more to their delights, than to the warres, they have lost their States; and the first cause that makes thee lose it, is the neglect of that arte; and the cause that makes thee gaine it, is that thou art experienc’d and approvd in that arte. Francis Sforza by being a man at armes, of a  private man became Duke of Milan; and his sons by excusing themselves of the troubles and paines belonging to those imployments of Princes, became private men. For among other mischiefes thy neglect of armes brings upon thee, it causes thee to be contemnd, which is one of those disgraces, from which a Prince ought to keepe himselfe, as hereafter shall be sayd: for from one that is disarmd to one that is armd there is no proportion; and reason will not, that he who is in armes, should willingly yeeld obedience to him that is unfurnishd of them, and that he that is disarmd should be in security among his armed vassalls; for there being disdaine in the one, and suspicion in the other, it is impossible these should ever well cooperate. And therefore a Prince who is quite unexperienced in matter of warre, besides the other infelicities belonging to him, as is said, cannot be had in any esteeme among his souldiers, nor yet trust in them. Wherefore he ought never to neglect the practice of the arte of warre, and in time of peace should he exercise it more than in the warre; which he may be able to doe two wayes; the one practically, and in his labours and recreations of his body, the other theoretically. And touching the practick part, he ought besides the keeping of his own subjects well traind up in the discipline and exercise of armes, give himselfe much to the chase, whereby to accustome his body to paines, and partly to understand the manner of situations, and to know how the mountaines arise, which way the vallyes open themselves, and how the plaines are distended flat abroad, and to conceive well the nature of the rivers, and marrish ground, and herein to bestow very much care, which knowledge is profitable in two kinds: first he learnes thereby to know his own countrey, and is the better enabled to understand the defence thereof, and afterwards by meanes of this knowledge and experience in these situations, easily comprehends any other situation, which a new he hath need to view, for the little hillocks, vallies, plaines, rivers, and marrish places. For example, they in Tuscany are like unto those of other countries: so that from the knowledge of  the site of one country, it is easie to attain to know that of others. And that Prince that wants this skill, failes of the principall part a Commander should be furnisht with; for this shows the way how to discover the enemy, to pitch the camp, to lead their armies, to order their battells, and also to besiege a town at thy best advantage, Philopomenes Prince of the Achayans, among other praises Writers give him, they say, that in time of peace, he thought not upon any thing so much as the practise of warre; and whensoever he was abroad in the field to disport himselfe with his friends, would often stand still, and discourse with them, in case the enemies were upon the top of that hill, and we here with our army, whether of us two should have the advantage, and how might we safely goe to find them, keeping still our orders; and if we would retire our selves, what course should we take if they retir’d, how should we follow them? and thus on the way, propounded them all such accidents could befall in any army; would heare their opinions, and tell his owne, and confirme it by argument; so that by his continuall thought hereupon, when ever he led any army no chance could happen, for which he had not a remedy. But touching the exercise of the mind, a Prince ought to read Histories, and in them consider the actions of the worthiest men, marke how they have behav’d themselves in the warrs, examine the occasions of their victories, and their losses; wherby they may be able to avoyd these, and obtaine those; and above all, doe as formerly some excellent man hath done, who hath taken upon him to imitate, if any one that hath gone before him hath left his memory glorious; the course he took, and kept alwaies near unto him the remembrances of his actions and worthy deeds: as it is said, that Alexander the great imitated Achilles; Cæsar Alexander, and Scipio Cyrus. And whoever reads the life of Cyrus, written by Xenophon, may easily perceive afterwards in Scipio’s life how much glory his imitation gaind him, and how much Scipio did conforme himselfe in his chastity, affability, humanity, and liberality with those things, that are written by Xenophon of Cyrus.  Such like wayes ought a wise Prince to take, nor ever be idle in quiet times, but by his paines then, as it were provide himself of store, whereof he may make some use in his adversity, the end that when the times change, he may be able to resist the stormes of his hard fortune.

CHAP. XV. Of those things, in respect whereof, men, and especially Princes, are praised, or dispraised.

It now remaines that we consider what the conditions of a Prince ought to be, and his termes of government over his subjects, and towards his friends. And because I know that many have written hereupon; I doubt, lest I venturing also to treat thereof, may be branded with presumption, especially seeing I am like enough to deliver an opinion different from others. But my intent being to write for the advantage of him that understands me, I thought it fitter to follow the effectuall truth of the matter, than the imagination thereof; And many Principalities and Republiques, have been in imagination, which neither have been seen nor knowne to be indeed: for there is such a distance between how men doe live, and how men ought to live; that he who leaves that which is done, for that which ought to be done, learnes sooner his ruine than his preservation; for that man who will professe honesty in all his actions, must needs goe to ruine among so many that are dishonest. Whereupon it is necessary for a Prince, desiring to preserve himselfe, to be able to make use of that honestie, and to lay it aside againe, as need shall require. Passing by then things that are only in imagination belonging to a Prince, to discourse upon those that are really true; I say that all men, whensoever mention is made of them, and especially Princes, because they are placed  aloft in the view of all, are taken notice of for some of these qualities, which procure them either commendations or blame: and this is that some one is held liberal, some miserable, (miserable I say, nor covetous; for the covetous desire to have, though it were by rapine; but a miserable man is he, that too much for bears to make use of his owne) some free givers, others extortioners; some cruell, others pitious; the one a Leaguebreaker, another faithfull; the one effeminate and of small courage, the other fierce and couragious; the one courteous, the other proud; the one lascivious, the other chaste; the one of faire dealing, the other wily and crafty; the one hard, the other easie; the one grave, the other light; the one religious, the other incredulous, and such like. I know that every one will confesse, it were exceedingly praise worthy for a Prince to be adorned with all these above nam’d qualities that are good: but because this is not possible, nor doe humane conditions admit such perfection in vertues, it is necessary for him to be so discret, that he know how to avoid the infamie of those vices which would thrust him out of his State; and if it be possible, beware of those also which are not able to remove him thence; but where it cannot be, let them passe with lesse regard. And yet, let him not stand much upon it, though he incurre the infamie of those vices, without which he can very hardly save his State: for if all be throughly considerd, some thing we shall find which will have the colour and very face of Vertue, and following them, they will lead the to thy destruction; whereas some others that shall as much seeme vice, if we take the course they lead us, shall discover unto us the way to our safety and well-being.

The second blemish in this our Authours book, I find in his fifteenth Chapter: where he instructs his Prince to use such an ambidexterity as that he may serve himselfe either of vertue, or vice, according to his advantage, which in true pollicy is neither good in attaining the Principality nor in securing it when it is attaind. For Politicks, presuppose Ethiques, which will never allow this rule: as that a man might make this small  difference between vertue, and vice, that he may indifferently lay aside, or take up the one or the other, and put it in practise as best conduceth to the end he propounds himselfe. I doubt our Authour would have blamd Davids regard to Saul when 1 Sam. 24. in the cave he cut off the lap of Sauls garment, and spared his head; and afterwards in the 26. when he forbad Abishai to strike him as he lay sleeping. Worthy of a Princes consideration is that saying of Abigal to David 1 Sam. 25. 30.

‘It shall come to passe when the Lord shall have done to my Lord according to all that he hath spoken concerning thee, and shall have appointed thee Ruler over Israel, that this shall be no grief to thee, nor offence of heart unto my Lord, that thou hast forborne to shed blood, etc.’

For surely the conscience of this evill ground whereupon they have either built, or underpropped their tyranny, causes men, as well metus as spes in longum projicere, which sets them a work on further mischiefe.

CHAP. XVI. Of Liberality, and Miserablenesse.

Beginning then at the first of the above mentioned qualities, I say that it would be very well to be accounted liberall: neverthelesse, liberality used in such a manner, as to make thee be accounted so, wrongs thee: for in case it be used vertuously, and as it ought to be, it shall never come to be taken notice of, so as to free thee from the infamie of its contrary. And therefore for one to hold the name of liberal among men, it were needfull not to omit any sumptuous quality, insomuch that a Prince alwayes so dispos’d, shall waste all his revenues, and at the end shall be forc’d, if he will still maintaine that reputation of liberality, heavily to burthen his subjects, and become a great exactour; and put in practise all those things that can be done to get mony: Which begins to make him hatefull to his subjects, and fall into every ones contempt, growing necessitous: so that having with this liberality wrong’d many, and imparted of his bounty but to a few; he feels every first mischance, and runs a hazard  of every first danger: Which he knowing, and desiring to withdraw himself from, incurs presently the disgrace of being termed miserable. A Prince therefore not being able to use this vertue of liberality, without his own damage, in such a sort, that it may be taken notice of, ought, if he be wise, not to regard the name of Miserable; for in time he shall alwaies be esteemed the more liberal, seeing that by his parsimony his own revenues are sufficient for him; as also he can defend himself against whoever makes war against him, and can do some exploits without grieving his subjects: so that he comes to use his liberality to all those, from whom he takes nothing, who are infinite in number; and his miserableness towards those to whom he gives nothing, who are but a few. In our dayes we have not seen any, but those who have been held miserable, do any great matters; but the others all quite ruin’d. Pope Julius the second, however he serv’d himself of the name of Liberal, to get the Papacy, yet never intended he to continue it, to the end he might be able to make war against the King of France: and he made so many wars without imposing any extraordinary tax, because his long thrift supplyed his large expences. This present King of Spain could never have undertaken, nor gone through with so many exploits, had he been accounted liberal. Wherefore a Prince ought little to regard (that he may not be driven to pillage his subjects, that he may be able to defend himself, that he may not fall into poverty and contempt, that he be not forced to become an extortioner) though he incurre the name of miserable; for this is one of those vices, which does not pluck him from his throne. And if any one should say, Cæsar by his liberality obtained the Empire, and many others (because they both were, and were esteemd liberal) attaind to exceeding great dignities. I answer, either thou art already come to be a Prince, or thou art in the way to it; in the first case, this liberality is hurtful; in the second, it is necessary to be accounted so; and Cæsar was one of those that aspired to the Principality of Rome. But if after he had gotten it, he had survived, and not forborne  those expences, he would quite have ruined that Empire. And if any one should reply; many have been Princes, and with their armies have done great exploits, who have been held very liberal. I answer, either the Prince spends of his own and his subjects, or that which belongs to others: in the first, he ought to be sparing; in the second, he should not omit any part of liberality. And that Prince that goes abroad with his army, and feeds upon prey, and spoyle, and tributes, and hath the disposing of that which belongs to others, necessarily should use this liberality; otherwise would his soldiers never follow him; and of that which is neither thine, nor thy subjects, thou mayest well be a free giver, as were Cyrus, Cæsar and Alexander; for the spending of that which is anothers, takes not away thy reputation, but rather adds to it, only the wasting of that which is thine own hurts thee; nor is there any thing consumes itself so much as liberality, which whilest thou usest, thou losest the means to make use of it, and becomest poore and abject; or to avoid this poverty, an extortioner and hatefull person. And among all those things which a Prince ought to beware of is, to be dispised, and odious; to one and the other of which, liberality brings thee. Wherefore there is more discretion to hold the stile of Miserable, which begets an infamy without hatred, than to desire that of Liberal, whereby to incurre the necessity of being thought an extortioner, which procures an infamy with hatred.

CHAP. XVII. Of Cruelty, and Clemency, and whether it is better to be belov’d, or feard.

Descending afterwards unto the other fore-alledged qualities, I say, that every Prince should desire to be held pitiful, and not cruel. Nevertheless ought he beware that he ill uses not this pitty. Cæsar Borgia was accounted cruel, yet had his cruelty redrest the disorders in Romania, setled it in union, and restored it to peace, and fidelity: which, if it be well weighed, we shall see was an act of more pitty, than that of the people of Florence, who to avoyd the terme of cruelty, suffered Pistoya to fall to destruction. Wherefore a Prince ought not to regard the infamy of cruelty, for to hold his subjects united and faithfull: for by giving a very few proofes of himself the other way, he shall be held more pittiful than they, who through their too much pitty, suffer disorders to follow, from whence arise murthers and rapines: for these are wont to hurt an intire universality, whereas the executions practised by a Prince, hurt only some particular. And among all sorts of Princes, it is impossible for a new Prince to avoyd the name of cruel, because all new States are full of dangers: whereupon Virgil by the mouth of Dido excuses the inhumanity of her Kingdom, saying,

Res dura et Regni novitas me talia cogunt

Moliri et latè fines custode tenere.

My hard plight and new State force me to guard

My confines all about with watch and ward.

Nevertheless ought he to be judicious in his giving belief to any thing, or moving himself thereat, nor make his people extreamly afraid of him; but proceed in a moderate way  with wisdome, and humanity, that his too much confidence make him not unwary, and his too much distrust intolerable; from hence arises a dispute, whether it is better to be belov’d or feard: I answer, a man would wish he might be the one and the other: but because hardly can they subsist both together, it is much safer to be feard, than be loved; being that one of the two must needs fail; for touching men, we may say this in general, they are unthankful, unconstant, dissemblers, they avoyd dangers, and are covetous of gain; and whilest thou doest them good, they are wholly thine; their blood, their fortunes, lives and children are at thy service, as is said before, when the danger is remote; but when it approaches, they revolt. And that Prince who wholly relies upon their words, unfurnished of all other preparations, goes to wrack: for the friendships that are gotten with rewards, and not by the magnificence and worth of the mind, are dearly bought indeed; but they will neither keep long, nor serve well in time of need: and men do less regard to offend one that is supported by love, than by fear. For love is held by a certainty of obligation, which because men are mischievous, is broken upon any occasion of their own profit. But fear restrains with a dread of punishment which never forsakes a man. Yet ought a Prince cause himself to be belov’d in such a manner, that if he gains not love, he may avoid hatred: for it may well stand together, that a man may be feard and not hated; which shall never fail, if he abstain from his subjects goods, and their wives; and whensoever he should be forc’d to proceed against any of their lives, do it when it is to be done upon a just cause, and apparent conviction; but above all things forbeare to lay his hands on other mens goods; for men forget sooner the death of their father, than the loss of their patrimony. Moreover the occasions of taking from men their goods, do never fail: and alwaies he that begins to live by rapine, finds occasion to lay hold upon other mens goods: but against mens lives, they are seldome found, and sooner fail. But where a Prince is abroad in the field with his army, and  hath a multitude of soldiers under his government, then is it necessary that he stands not much upon it, though he be termed cruel: for unless he be so, he shall never have his soldiers live in accord one with another, nor ever well disposed to any brave piece of service. Among Hannibals actions of mervail, this is reckoned for one, that having a very huge army, gathered out of several nations, and all led to serve in a strange countrey, there was never any dissention neither amongst themselves, nor against their General, as well in their bad fortune as their good. Which could not proceed from any thing else than from that barbarous cruelty of his, which together with his exceeding many vertues, rendred him to his soldiers both venerable and terrible; without which, to that effect his other vertues had served him to little purpose: and some writers though not of the best advised, on one side admire these his worthy actions, and on the otherside, condemn the principal causes thereof. And that it is true, that his other vertues would not have suffic’d him, we may consider in Scipio, the rarest man not only in the dayes he liv’d, but even in the memory of man; from whom his army rebel’d in Spain: which grew only upon his too much clemency, which had given way to his soldiers to become more licentious, than was well tollerable by military discipline: for which he was reprov’d by Fabius Maximus in the Senate, who termed him the corrupter of the Roman soldiery. The Locrensians having been destroyed by a Lieutenant of Scipio’s, were never reveng’d by him, nor the insolence of that Lieutenant punisht; all this arising from his easie nature: so that one desiring to excuse him in the Senate, said, that there were many men knew better how to keep themselves from faults, than to correct the faults of other men: which disposition of his in time would have wrong’d Scipio’s reputation and glory, had he therewith continu’d in his commands: but living under the government of the Senate, this quality of his that would have disgrac’d him not only was conceal’d, but prov’d to the advancement of his glory. I conclude then, returning to the purpose of being feard, and  belov’d; insomuch as men love at their own pleasure, and to serve their own turne, and their fear depends upon the Princes pleasure, every wise Prince ought to ground upon that which is of himself, and not upon that which is of another: only this, he ought to use his best wits to avoid hatred, as was said.

CHAP. XVIII. In what manner Princes ought to keep their words.

How commendable in a Prince it is to keep his word, and live with integrity, not making use of cunning and subtlety, every one knows well: yet we see by experience in these our dayes, that those Princes have effected great matters, who have made small reckoning of keeping their words, and have known by their craft to turne and wind men about, and in the end, have overcome those who have grounded upon the truth. You must then know, there are two kinds of combating or fighting; the one by right of the laws, the other meerly by force. That first way is proper to men, the other is also common to beasts: but because the first many times suffices not, there is a necessity to make recourse to the second; wherefore it behooves a Prince to know how to make good use of that part which belongs to a beast, as well as that which is proper to a man. This part hath been covertly shew’d to Princes by ancient writers; who say that Achilles and many others of those ancient Princes were intrusted to Chiron the Senator, to be brought up under his discipline: the moral of this, having for their teacher one that was half a beast and half a man, was nothing else, but that it was needful for a Prince to understand how to make his advantage of the one and the other nature, because neither could subsist without the other. A Prince then being necessitated to know how to make use of that part belonging to a beast,  ought to serve himself of the conditions of the Fox and the Lion; for the Lion cannot keep himself from snares, nor the Fox defend himself against the Wolves. He had need then be a Fox, that he may beware of the snares, and a Lion that he may scare the wolves. Those that stand wholly upon the Lion, understand not well themselves. And therefore a wise Prince cannot, nor ought not keep his faith given when the observance thereof turnes to disadvantage, and the occasions that made him promise, are past. For if men were all good, this rule would not be allowable; but being they are full of mischief, and would not make it good to thee, neither art thou tyed to keep it with them: nor shall a Prince ever want lawfull occasions to give colour to this breach. Very many modern examples hereof might be alledg’d, wherein might be shewed how many peaces concluded, and how many promises made, have been violated and broken by the infidelity of Princes; and ordinarily things have best succeeded with him that hath been nearest the Fox in condition. But it is necessary to understand how to set a good colour upon this disposition, and to be able to fain and dissemble throughly; and men are so simple, and yeeld so much to the present necessities, that he who hath a mind to deceive, shall alwaies find another that will be deceivd. I will not conceal any one of the examples that have been of late. Alexander the sixth, never did any thing else than deceive men, and never meant otherwise, and alwaies found whom to work upon; yet never was there man would protest more effectually, nor aver any thing with more solemn oaths, and observe them less than he; nevertheless, his cousenages all thriv’d well with him; for he knew how to play this part cunningly. Therefore is there no necessity for a Prince to be endued with all above written qualities, but it behooveth well that he seem to be so; or rather I will boldly say this, that having these qualities, and alwaies regulating himself by them, they are hurtfull; but seeming to have them, they are advantageous; as to seem pittiful, faithful, mild, religious, and of integrity, and indeed to be so; provided withall thou beest of such a  composition, that if need require to use the contrary, thou canst, and knowest how to apply thy self thereto. And it suffices to conceive this, that a Prince, and especially a new Prince, cannot observe all those things, for which men are held good; he being often forc’d, for the maintenance of his State, to do contrary to his faith, charity, humanity, and religion: and therefore it behooves him to have a mind so disposd, as to turne and take the advantage of all winds and fortunes; and as formerly I said, not forsake the good, while he can; but to know how to make use of the evil upon necessity. A Prince then ought to have a special care, that he never let fall any words, but what are all season’d with the five above written qualities, and let him seem to him that sees and hears him, all pitty, all faith, all integrity, all humanity, all religion; nor is there any thing more necessary for him to seem to have, than this last quality: for all men in general judge thereof, rather by the sight, than by the touch; for every man may come to the sight of him, few come to the touch and feeling of him; yvery man may come to see what thou seemest, few come to perceive and understand what thou art; and those few dare not oppose the opinion of many, who have the majesty of State to protect them: And in all mens actions, especially those of Princes wherein there is no judgement to appeale unto men, forbeare to give their censures, till the events and ends of things. Let a Prince therefore take the surest courses he can to maintain his life and State: the means shall alwaies be thought honorable, and commended by every one; for the vulgar is over-taken with the appearance and event of a thing: and for the most part of people, they are but the vulgar: the others that are but few, take place where the vulgar have no subsisteance. A Prince there is in these dayes, whom I shall not do well to name, that preaches nothing else but peace and faith; but had he kept the one and the other, several times had they taken from him his state and reputation.

In the sixteenth, seventeenth, and eighteenth Chap, our Author descends to particulars, perswading his Prince in his sixteenth to  such a suppleness of disposition, as that upon occasion he can make use either of liberality or miserableness, as need shall require. But that of liberality is to last no longer than while he is in the way to some designe: which if he well weigh, is not really a reward of vertue, how ere it seems; but a bait and lure to bring birds to the net. In the seventeenth Chap, he treats of clemency and cruelty, neither of which are to be exercis’d by him as acts of mercy or justice; but as they may serve to advantage his further purposes. And lest the Prince should incline too much to clemency, our Author allows rather the restraint by fear, than by love. The contrary to which all stories shew us. I will say this only, cruelty may cut of the power of some, but causes the hatred of all, and gives a will to most to take the first occasion offerd for revenge. In the eighteenth Chap, our Author discourses how Princes ought to govern themselves in keeping their promises made: whereof he sayes they ought to make such small reckoning, as that rather they should know by their craft how to turne and wind men about, whereby to take advantage of all winds and fortunes. To this I would oppose that in the fifteenth Psal. v. 5. He that sweareth to his neighbor, and disappointeth him not, though it were to his own hindrance. It was a King that writ it, and me thinks the rule he gave, should well befit both King and Subject: and surely this perswades against all taking of advantages. A man may reduce all the causes of faith-breaking to three heads. One may be, because he that promised, had no intention to keep his word; and this is a wicked and malitious way of dealing. A second may bee, because hee that promisd, repents of his promise made; and that is grounded on unconstancy, and lightness in that he would not be well resolved before he entred into covenant. The third may be, when it so falls out, that it lyes not in his power that made the promise to performe it. In which case a man ought to imitate the good debter, who having not wherewithall to pay, hides not himself, but presents his person to his creditor, willingly suffering imprisonment. The first and second are very vitious and unworthy of a Prince: in the third, men might well be directed by the examples of those two famous Romans, Regulus and Posthumius. I shall close this with the answer of Charles the fifth, when he was pressed to break his word with Luther for his safe return from Wormes; Fides rerum promissarum etsi toto mundo exulet, tamen apud imperatorem cam consistere oportet. Though truth be banisht out of the whole world, yet should it alwaies find harbour in an Emperors breast.

Gulielmus Xenocarus in vit. Car. Quinti.

CHAP. XIX. That Princes should take a care, not to incurre contempt or hatred.

But because among the qualities, whereof formerly mention is made, I have spoken of those of most importance, I will treat of the others more briefly under these qualityes that a Prince is to beware, as in part is above-said, and that he fly those things which cause him to be odious or vile: and when ever he shall avoid this, he shall fully have plaid his part, and in the other disgraces he shall find no danger at all. There is nothing makes him so odious, as I said, as his extortion of his subjects goods, and abuse of their women, from which he ought to forbear; and so long as he wrongs not his whole people, neither in their goods, nor honors, they live content, and he hath only to strive with the Ambition of some few: which many waies and easily too, is restrain’d. To be held various, light, effeminate, faint-hearted, unresolv’d, these make him be contemnd and thought base, which a Prince should shun like rocks, and take a care that in all his actions there appear magnanimity, courage, gravity, and valor; and that in all the private affairs of his subjects, he orders it so, that his word stand irrevocable: and maintain himself in such repute, that no man may think either to deceive or wind and turn him about: that Prince that gives such an opinion of himself, is much esteemed, and against him who is so well esteemed, hardly are any conspiracies made by his subjects, or by forreiners any invasion, when once notice is taken of his worth, and how much he is reverenced by his subjects: For a Prince ought to have two fears, the one from within, in regard of his subjects; the other from abroad, in regard of his mighty neighbors; from these he defends himself by good armes and good friends; and alwayes he shall have  good friends, if he have good armes; and all things shall alwaies stand sure at home, when those abroad are firme, in case some conspiracy have not disturbed them; and however the forrein matters stand but ticklishly; yet if he have taken such courses at home, and liv’d as we have prescribed, he shall never be able (in case he forsake not himself) to resist all possibility, force and violence, as I said Nabis the Spartan did: but touching his subjects, even when his affairs abroad are setled, it is to be fear’d they may conspire privily; from which a Prince sufficiently secure himself by shunning to be hated or contemned, and keeping himself in his peoples good opinion, which it is necessary for him to compass, as formerly we treated at large. And one of the powerfullest remedies a Prince can have against conspiracies, is, not to be hated nor dispised by the universality; for alwaies he that conspires, beleeves the Princes death is acceptable to the subject: but when he thinks it displeases them, he hath not the heart to venture on such a matter; for the difficulties that are on the conspirators side, are infinite. By experience it is plain, that many times plots have been laid, but few of them have succeeded luckily; for he that conspires, cannot be alone, nor can he take the company of any, but of those, who he beleeves are malecontents; and so soon as thou hast discover’d thy self to a malecontent, thou givest him means to work his own content: for by revealing thy treason, he may well hope for all manner of favour: so that seeing his gain certain of one side; and on the other, finding only doubt and danger, either he had need be a rare friend, or that he be an exceeding obstinate enemy to the Prince, if he keeps his word with thee. And to reduce this matter into short termes: I say, there is nothing but jealousie, fear, and suspect of punishment on the conspirators part to affright him; but on the Princes part, there is the majesty of the principality, the laws, the defences of his friends and the State, which do so guard him, that to all these things the peoples good wills being added, it is unpossible any one should be so head-strong as to conspire; for ordinarily where a traytor is to feare before the execution of his mischiefe,  in this case he is also to feare afterwards, having the people for his enemy when the fact is commited, and therefore for this cause, not being able to hope for any refuge. Touching this matter, many examples might be brought; but I will content my selfe to name one which fell out in the memory of our Fathers. Annibal Bentivolii, grand Father of this Annibal who now lives, that was Prince in Bolonia, being slaine by the Canneschi that conspir’d against him, none of his race being left, but this John, who was then in swadling clouts; presently the people rose upon this murder, and slew all the Canneschi which proceeded from the popular affection, which the family of the Bentivolii held then in Bolonia: which was so great, that being there remain’d not any, now Anniball was dead, that was able to manage the State; and having notice that in Florence there was one borne of the Bentivolii, who till then was taken for a Smiths sonne: the citizens of Bolonia went to Florence for him, and gave the government of their City to him, which was rul’d by him, untill John was of fit yeares to governe. I conclude then, that a Prince ought to make small account of treasons, whiles he hath the people to friend: but if they be his enemies and hate him, he may well feare every thing, and every one. And well ordered States, and discreet Princes have taken care withall diligence, not to cause their great men to fall into desperation, and to content the people, and so to maintaine them: for this is one of the most important businesses belonging to a Prince. Among the Kingdomes that are well orderd and governd in our dayes, is that of France, and therein are found exceeding many good orders, whereupon the Kings liberty and security depends: of which the chiefe is the Parliament, and the authority thereof: for he that founded that Kingdome, knowing the great mens ambition and insolence; and judgeing it necessary there should be a bridle to curbe them; and on the other side knowing the hatred of the Commonalty against the great ones, grounded upon feare, intending to secure them, would not lay this care wholly upon the King, but take this trouble from him, which he  might have with the great men, in case he favourd the Commonalty; or with the Commonalty, in case he favourd the great men; and thereupon set up a third judge, which was that, to the end it should keep under the great ones, and favour the meaner sort, without any imputation to the King. It was not possible to take a better, nor wiser course then this; nor a surer way to secure the King, and the Kingdome. From whence we may draw another conclusion worthie of note, that Princes ought to cause others to take upon them the matters of blame and imputation; and upon themselves to take only those of grace and favour. Here againe I conclude, that a Prince ought to make good esteeme of his Nobility; but not thereby to incur the Commons hatred: It would seeme perhaps to many, considering the life and death of many Romane Emperours, that they were examples contrary to my opinion, finding that some have liv’d worthily, and shewd many rare vertues of the minde, and yet have lost the Empire, and been put to death by their owne subjects, conspiring against them. Intending then to answer these objections, I shall discourse upon the qualities of some Emperours, declaring the occasions of their ruine, not disagreeing from that which I have alledgd; and part thereof I will bestow on the consideration of these things, which are worthy to be noted by him that reads the actions of those times: and it shall suffice me to take all those Emperours that succeeded in the Empire from Marcus the Philosopher to Maximinus, who were Mercus and Commodus his sonne, Pertinax, Julian, Severus, Antonius, Caracalla his sonne, Macrinus, Heliogabalus, Alexander, and Maximin. And first it is to be noted, that where in the other Principalities, they are to contend only with the ambition of the Nobles, and the insolence of the people; the Romane Emperours had a third difficulty, having to support the cruelty and covetousnesse of the souldiers, which was so hard a thing, that it caused the ruine of many, being hard to satisfy the souldiers, and the people; for the people love their quiet, and therefore affect modest Princes; and the souldiers love a Prince of a warlike courage, that is insolent,  cruell, and plucking from every one: which things they would have them exercise upon the people, whereby they might be able to double their stipends, and satisfie their avarice and cruelty: whence it proceeds, that those Emperours who either by Nature or by Art, had not such a reputation, as therewith they could curbe the one and the other, were alwayes ruind: and the most of them, specially those who as new men came to the principality, finding the difficulty of those two different humours, applyed themselves to content the souldiers, making small account of wronging the people, which was a course then necessary; for the Princes not being able to escape the hatred of every one, ought first endeavour that they incurre not the hatred of any whole universality; and when they cannot attaine thereunto, they are to provide with all industry, to avoyd the hatred of those universalities that are the most mighty. And therefore those Emperors, who because they were but newly call’d to the Empire, had need of extraordinary favours, more willingly stuck to the soldiers, than to the people; which neverthelesse turnd to their advantage, or otherwise, according as that Prince knew how to maintaine his repute with them. From these causes aforesayd proceeded it, that Marcus Pertinax, and Alexander, though all living modestly, being lovers of justice, and enemies of cruelty, courteous and bountifull, had all from Marcus on ward, miserable ends; Marcus only liv’d and dy’d exceedingly honoured: for he came to the Empire by inheritance, and was not to acknowledge it either from the soldiers, nor from the people: afterwards being accompanyed with many vertues, which made him venerable, he held alwayes whilst he liv’d the one and the other order within their limits, and was never either hated, or contemnd. But Pertinax was created Emperour against the soldiers wills, who being accustomed to live licentiously under Commodus, could not endure that honest course that Pertinax sought to reduce them to: Whereupon having gotten himself hatred, and to this hatred added contempt, in that he was old, was ruind in the very beginning of his government. Whence it ought to be  observed, that hatred is gaind as well by good deeds as bad; and therefore as I formerly said, when a Prince would maintaine the State, he is often forced not to be good: for when that generality, whether it be the people, or soldiers, or Nobility, whereof thou thinkst thou standst in need to maintain thee, is corrupted, it behoves thee to follow their humour, and content them, and then all good deeds are thy adversaries. But let us come to Alexander who was of that goodnesse, that among the prayses given him, had this for one, that in fourteen yeers wherein he held the Empire, he never put any man to death, but by course of justice; neverthelesse being held effeminate, and a man that suffered himselfe to be ruled by his mother, and thereupon fallen into contempt, the army conspird against him. Now on the contrary discoursing upon the qualities of Commodus, Severus, Antonius, Caracalla, and Maximinus, you shall find them exceeding cruell, and ravinous, who to satisfie their soldiers, forbeare no kinde of injury that could be done upon the people; and all of them, except Severus, came to evill ends: for in Severus, there was such extraordinary valour, that while he held the soldiers his freinds, however the people were much burthend by him, he might alwayes reigne happily: for his valour rendred him so admirable in the souldiers and peoples sights; that these in a manner stood amazd and astonishd, and those others reverencing and honoring him. And because the actions of this man were exceeding great, being in a new Prince, I will briefly shew how well he knew to act the Foxes and the Lions parts; the conditions of which two, I say, as before, are very necessary for a Prince to imitate. Severus having had experience of Julian the Emperours sloth, perswaded his army (whereof he was commander in Sclavonia) that they should doe well to goe to Rome to revenge Pertinax his death, who was put to death by the Imperiall guard; and under this pretence, not making any shew that he aspird unto the Empire, set his army in march directly towards Rome, and was sooner come into Italy, than it was knowne he had mov’d from his station. Being ariv’d at Rome, he  was by the Senate chosen Emperour for feare, and Julian slaine. After this beginning, two difficulties yet remaind to Severus, before he could make himselfe Lord of the whole State; the one in Asia, where Niger the Generall of those armies had gotten the title of Emperour, the other in the West with Albinus, who also aspird to the Empire: and because he thought there might be some danger to discover himselfe enemy to them both, he purposed to set upon Niger, and cozen Albinus, to whom he writ, that being elected Emperour by the Senate, he would willingly communicate it with him; and thereupon sent him the title of Cæsar, and by resolution of the Senate, tooke him to him for his Colleague; which things were taken by Albinus in true meaning. But afterwards when Severus had overcome and slaine Niger, and pacified the affaires and in the East, being returned to Rome, he complaind in the Senate of Albinus, how little weighing the benefits received from him, he had sought to slay him by treason, and therefore was he forc’d to goe punish his ingratitude: afterwards he went into France, where he bereft him both of his State and life, whoever then shall in particular examine his actions, shall finde he was a very cruell Lion, and as crafty a Fox: and shall see that he was alwayes feard and reverenc’d by every one, and by the armies not hated; and shall nothing marvell that he being a new man, was able to hold together such a great Empire: for his extraordinary reputation defended him alwayes from that hatred, which the people for his extortions might have conceiv’d against him. But Antonius his sonne, was also an exceeding brave man, and endued with most excellent qualities, which causd him to be admird by the people, and acceptable to the souldiers, because he was a warlike man, enduring all kind of travell and paines, despising all delicate food, and all kinde of effeminacy, which gaind him the love of all the armies: neverthelesse his fiercenesse and cruelty were such, and so hideous, having upon many particular occasions put to death a great part of the people of Rome, and all those of Alexandria, that he grew odious to the world, and began to be feard by those  also that were neare about him; so that he was slaine by a Centurion in the very midst of his army. Where it is to be noted, that these kinde of deaths, which follow upon the deliberation of a resolv’d and obstinate minde, cannot by a Prince be avoyded: for every one that feares not to dye, is able to doe it; but a Prince ought to be lesse afraid of it because it very seldome falls out. Only should he beware not to doe any extreame injury to any of those of whom he serves himself, or that he hath near about him in any imployment of his Principality, as Antonius did: who had reproachfully slaine a brother of that Centurion; also threatned him every day, and neverthelesse entertaind him still as one of the guards of his body, which was a rash course taken, and the way to destruction, as befell him. But let us come to Commodus for whom it was very easie to hold the Empire, by reason it descended upon him by inheritance, being Marcus his sonne, and it had been enough for him to follow his fathers footsteps, and then had he contented both the people and the soldiers: but being of a cruell and savage disposition, whereby to exercise his actions upon the people, he gave himselfe to entertaine armies, and those in all licentiousnesse. On the other part not maintaining his dignity, but often descending upon the stages to combate with fencers, and doing such other like base things, little worthy of the Imperiall majesty, he became contemptible in the soldiers sight; and being hated of one part, and despisd of the other, he was conspird against, and slaine. It remaines now, that we declare Maximinus his conditions, who was a very warlike man; and the armies loathing Alexanders effeminacy, whereof I spake before, when they had slain him, chose this man Emperour, who not long continued so, because two things there were that brought him into hatred and contempt; the one because he was very base, having kept cattell in Thrace, which was well knowne to every one, and made them to scorne him; the other, because in the beginning of his Principality having delayd to goe to Rome, and enter into possession of the Imperiall throne, he had gaind the infamy of being thought  exceeding cruell, having by his Prefects in Rome, and in every place of the Empire, exercisd many cruelties, insomuch that the whole world being provok’d against him to contempt for the basenesse of his blood; on the other side upon the hatred conceiv’d against him for feare of his crulty; first Affrica, afterwards the Senate, with all the people of Rome and all Italy, conspired against him, with whom his own army took part; which incamping before Aquileya, and finding some difficulty to take the town, being weary of his cruelties, and because they saw he had so many enemies, fearing him the lesse, slew him. I purpose not to say any thing either of Heliogabalus, Macrinus, or Julian, who because they were throughly base, were sudenly extinguished: but I will come to the conclusion of this discourse; and I say, that the Princes of our times have lesse of this difficulty to satisfie the Soldiers extraordinarily in their government; for notwithstanding that there be some considerations to be had of them, yet presently are those armies dissolved, because none of these Princes do use to maintaine any armies together, which are annex’d and inveterated with the governments of the provinces, as were the armies of the Romane Empire. And therefore if then it was necessary rather to content the soldiers than the people, it was because the soldiers were more powerfull than the people: now is it more necessary for all Princes, (except the Turk and the Souldan) to satisfie their people than their soldiers, because the people are more mighty than they; wherein I except the Turk, he alwayes maintaining about his person 12000 foot, and 15000 horse, upon which depends the safety and strength of his Kingdome; and it is necessary that laying aside all other regard of his people, he maintaine these his friends. The Souldans Kingdome is like hereunto, which being wholy in the souldiers power, he must also without respect of his people keep them his friends. And you are to consider, that this State of the Souldans differs much from all the other Principalities: For it is very like the Papacy, which cannot be termd an hereditary Principality: nor a new Principality: for the sons of the deceasd Prince are  not heires and Lords thereof, but he that is chosen receives that dignity from those who have the authority in them. And this order being of antiquity, cannot be termd a new Principality, because therein are none of those difficulties that are in new ones: for though the Prince be new, yet are the orders of that state ancient, and ordaind to receive him, as if he were their hereditary Prince. But let us returne to our matter; whosoever shall consider our discourse before, shall perceive that either hatred, or contempt have caus’d the ruine of the afore-named Emperors; and shall know also, from it came that part of them proceeding one way, and part a contrary; yet in any of them the one had a happy success, and the others unhappy: for it was of no availe, but rather hurtful for Pertinax and Alexander, because they were new Princes, to desire to imitate Marcus, who by inheritance came to the Principality: and in like manner it was a wrong to Caracalla, Commodus, and Maximus, to imitate Severus, because none of them were endued with so great valor as to follow his steps therein. Wherefore a new Prince in his Principality cannot well imitate Marcus his actions; nor yet is it necessary to follow those of Severus: but he ought make choyce of those parts in Severus which are necessary for the founding of a State; and to take from Marcus those that are fit and glorious to preserve a State which is already established and setled.

CHAP. XX. Whether the Citadels and many other things which Princes often make use of, are profitable or dammageable.

Some Princes, whereby they might safely keep their State, have disarmed their subjects; some others have held the towns under their dominion, divided into factions; others have maintain’d enmities against themselves; others have appli’d themselves to gain them, where they have suspected at their entrance into the government; others have built Fortresses; and others again have ruined and demolished them: and however that upon all these things, a man cannot well pass a determinate sentence, unless one comes to the particulars of these States, where some such like determinations were to be taken; yet I shall speak of them in so large a manner, as the matter of it self will bear. It was never then that a new Prince would disarme his own subjects; but rather when he hath found them disarmed, he hath alwaies arm’d them. For being belov’d, those armes become thine; those become faithful, which thou hadst in suspicion; and those which were faithful, are maintaind so; and thy subjects are made thy partisans; and because all thy subjects cannot be put in armes, when thou bestowest favors on those thou armest, with the others thou canst deal more for thy safety; and that difference of proceeding which they know among them, obliges them to thee; those others excuse thee, judgeing it necessary that they have deservd more, who have undergone more danger, and so have greater obligation: but when thou disarmst them, thou beginst to offend them, that thou distrustest them, either for cowardise, or small faith; and the one or the other of those two opinions provokes their hatred against thee; and because thou canst not stand disarmed,  thou must then turn thy self to mercenary Soldiery, whereof we have formerly spoken what it is, and when it is good; it can never be so much as to defend thee from powerful enemies, and suspected subjects; therefore as I have said, a new Prince in a new Principality hath alwaies ordaind them armes. Of examples to this purpose, Histories are full. But when a Prince gains a new State, which as a member he adds to his ancient dominions, then it is necessary to disarme that State, unless it be those whom thou hast discoverd to have assisted thee in the conquest thereof; and these also in time and upon occasions, it is necessary to render delicate and effeminate, and so order them, that all the arms of thy State be in the hands of thy own Soldiers, who live in thy ancient State near unto thee. Our ancestors and they that were accounted Sages, were wont to say that it was necessary to hold Pistoya in factions, and Pisa with Fortresses; and for this cause maintaind some towns subject to them in differences, whereby to hold it more easily. This, at what time Italy was ballanc’d in a certain manner, might be well done; but mee thinks it cannot now a dayes be well given for a precept; for I do not beleeve, that divisions made can do any good; rather it must needs be, that when the enemy approaches them, Cities divided are presently lost; for alwaies the weaker part will cleave to the forrein power, and the other not be able to subsist. The Venetians (as I think) mov’d by the aforesaid reasons, maintaind the factions of the Guelfes and Gibellins, in their townes; and however they never suffered them to spill one anothers blood, yet they nourish’d these differences among them, to the end that the citizens imployd in these quarrels, should not plot any thing against them: which as it proved, never serv’d them to any great purpose: for being defeated at Vayla, presently one of those two factions took courage and seizd upon their whole State. Therefore such like waies argue the Princes weakness; for in a strong principality they never will suffer such divisions; for they shew them some kind of profit in time of peace, being they are able by means thereof more easily to mannage their subjects: but war comming, such like orders discover  their fallacy. Without doubt, Princes become great, when they overcome the difficulties and oppositions that are made against them; and therefore Fortune especially when she hath to make any new Prince great, who hath more need to gain reputation than an hereditary Prince, causes enemies to rise against him, and him to undertake against them: to the end he may have occasion to master them, and know that ladder, which his enemies have set him upon, whereby to rise yet higher. And therefore many think, that a wise Prince when he hath the occasion, ought cunningly to nourish some enmity, that by the suppressing thereof, his greatness may grow thereupon. Princes, especially those that are new, have found more faith and profit in those men, who in the beginning of their State, have been held suspected, than in those who at their entrance have been their confidents. Pandulphus Petrucci, Prince of Siena, governd his State, more with them that had been suspected by him, than with the others. But of this matter we cannot speak at large, because it varies according to the subject; I will only say this, that those men, who in the beginning of a Principality were once enemies, if they be of quality so that to maintain themselves they have need of support, the Prince might alwaies with the greatest facility gain for his; and they are the rather forced to serve him faithfully, insomuch as they know it is more necessary for them by their deeds to cancel that sinister opinion, which was once held of them; and so the Prince ever draws from these more advantage, than from those, who serving him too supinely, neglect his affairs. And seing the matter requires it, I will not omit to put a Prince in mind, who hath anew made himself master of a State, by means of the inward helps he had from thence that he consider well the cause that mov’d them that favor’d him to favor him, if it be not a natural affection towards him; for if it be only because they were not content with their former government, with much pains and difficulties shall he be able to keep them long his friends, because it will be impossible for him to content them. By these examples then which are drawn out of ancient and modern  affaires, searching into the cause hereof, we shall find it much more easie to gain those men for friends, who formerly were contented with the State, and therefore were his enemies: than those, who because they were not contented therewith, became his fiends, and favor’d him in getting the mastery of it. It hath been the custome of Princes, whereby to hold their States more securely, to build Citadels, which might be bridles and curbs to those that should purpose any thing against them, and so to have a secure retreat from the first violences. I commend this course, because it hath been used of old; notwithstanding Nicholas Vitelli in our dayes hath been known to demolish two Citadels in the town of Castello, the better to keep the State; Guidubaldo Duke of Urbin being to return into his State, out of which he was driven by Cæsar Borgia, raz’d all the Fortresses of that Countrey, and thought he should hardlyer lose that State again without them. The Bentivolii returning into Bolonia, used the like courses. Citadels then are profitable, or not, according to the times; and if they advantage thee in one part, they do thee harme in another; and this part may be argued thus. That Prince who stands more in fear of his own people than of strangers, ought to build Fortresses: but he that is more afraid of strangers than of his people, should let them alone. Against the house of Sforza, the Castle of Milan, which Francis Sforza built, hath and will make more war, than any other disorder in that State: and therefore the best Citadel that may be, is not to incurre the peoples hatred; for however thou holdest a Fortress, and the people hate thee, thou canst hardly scape them; for people, when once they have taken armes, never want the help of strangers at their need to take ther parts. In our dayes we never saw that they ever profited any Prince, unless it were the Countess of Furli, when Count Hieronymo of Furli her husband was slain; for by means thereof she escap’d the peoples rage, and attended aid from Milan, and so recover’d her State: and then such were the times that the stranger could not assist the people: but afterwards they serv’d her to little purpose, when Cæsar Borgia assaild her, and that  the people which was her enemy, sided with the stranger. Therefore both then, and at first, it would have been more for her safety, not to have been odious to the people, than to have held the Fortresses. These things being well weigh’d then, I will commend those that shall build up Fortresses, and him also that shall not; and I will blame him, howsoever he be, that relying upon those, shall make small account of being hated by his people.

CHAP. XXI. How a Prince ought to behave himself to gain reputation.

There is nothing gains a Prince such repute as great exploits, and rare tryals of himself in Heroick actions. We have now in our dayes Ferdinand King of Arragon the present King of Spain: he in a manner may be termed a new Prince; for from a very weak King, he is now become for fame and glory, the first King of Christendome, and if you shall wel consider his actions, you shall find them all illustrious, and every one of them extraordinary. He in the beginning of his reign assaild Granada, and that exploit was the ground of his State. At first he made that war in security, and without suspicion he should be any waies hindred, and therein held the Barons of Castiglias minds busied, who thinking upon that war, never minded any innovation; in this while he gaind credit and authority with them, they not being aware of it; was able to maintain with the Church and the peoples money all his soldiers, and to lay a foundation for his military ordinances with that long war, which afterwards gaind him exceeding much honor. Besides this, to the end he might be able hereamong to undertake greater matters, serving himself alwaies of the colour of religion, he gave himself to a kind of  religious cruelty, chasing and dispoyling those Jewes out of the Kingdome; nor can this example be more admirable and rare: under the same cloke he invaded Affrick and went through with his exploit in Italy: and last of all hath he assaild France, and so alwaies proceeded on forwards contriving of great matters, which alwaies have held his subjects minds in peace and admiration, and busied in attending the event, what it should be: and these his actions have thus grown, one upon another, that they have never given leisure to men so to rest, as they might ever plot any thing against them. Moreover it much avails a Prince to give extraordinary proofes of himself touching the government within, such as those we have heard of Bernard of Milan, whensoever occasion is given by any one, that may effectuate some great thing either of good or evil, in the civil government; and to find out some way either to reward or punish it, whereof in the world much notice may be taken. And above all things a Prince ought to endeavor in all his actions to spread abroad a fame of his magnificence and worthiness. A Prince also is well esteemed, when he is a true friend, or a true enemy; when without any regard he discovers himself in favor of one against another; which course shall be alwaies more profit, than to stand neuter: for if two mighty ones that are thy neighbors, come to fall out, or are of such quality, that one of them vanquishing, thou art like to be in fear of the vanquisher, or not; in either of these two cases, it will ever prove more for thy profit, to discover thy self, and make a good war of it: for in the first case, if thou discoverest not thy selfe, thou shalt alwaies be a prey to him that overcomes, to the contentment and satisfaction of the vanquisht; neither shalt thou have reason on thy side, nor any thing else to defend or receive thee. For he that overcomes, will not have any suspected friends that give him no assistance in his necessity: and he that loses, receives thee not, because thou wouldest not with thy armes in hand run the hazzard of his fortune. Antiochus passed into Greece, thereunto induc’d by the Etolians, to chace the Romans thence: and sent his Ambassadors to the  Achayans, who were the Romans friends, to perswade them to stand neuters; on the other side the Romans moved them to joyne armes with theirs: this matter came to be deliberated on in the council of the Achayans, where Antiochus his Ambassador encouraged them to stand neuters, whereunto the Romans Ambassador answerd; Touching the course, that is commended to you, as best and profitablest for your State, to wit, not to intermeddle in the war between us, nothing can be more against you: because, not taking either part, you shall remain without thanks, and without reputation a prey to the conqueror. And it will alwaies come to pass that he who is not thy friend, will requite thy neutrality; and he that is thy friend, will urge thee to discover thy self by taking arms for him: and evil advised Princes; to avoyd the present dangers, folow often times that way of neutrality, and most commonly go to ruine: but when a Prince discovers himself strongly in favor of a party; if he to whom thou cleavest, overcomes; however that he be puissant, and thou remainest at his disposing, he is oblig’d to thee, and there is a contract of friendship made; and men are never so openly dishonest, as with such a notorious example of dishonesty to oppress thee. Besides victories are never so prosperous, that the conqueror is like neglect all respects, and especially of justice. But if he to whom thou stickst, loses, thou art received by him; and, while he is able, he aydes thee, and so thou becomest partner of a fortune that may arise again; the second case, when they that enter into the lists together, are of such quality, that thou needest not fear him that vanquisheth, so much the more is it discretion in thee to stick to him; for thou goest to ruine one with his assistance, who ought to do the best he could to save him, if he were well advised; and he overcomming, is left at thy discretion; and it is unpossible but with thy ayd he must overcome. And here it is to be noted, that a Prince should be well aware never to joyn with any one more powerfull than himself, to offend another, unless upon necessity, as formerly is said. For when he overcomes, thou art left at his discretion, and Princes ought avoid as  much as they are able, to stand at anothers discretion. The Venetians took part with France against the Duke of Milan, and yet could have avoided that partaking, from which proceeded their ruine. But when it cannot be avoyded, as it befel the Florentines when the Pope and the King of Spain went both with their armies to Lombardy, there the Prince ought to side with them for the reasons aforesaid. Nor let any State think they are able to make such sure parties, but rather that they are all doubtfull; for in the order of things we find it alwaies, that whensoever a man seeks to avoid one inconvenient, he incurs another. But the principal point of judgement, is in discerning between the qualities of inconvenients, and not taking the bad for the good. Moreover a Prince ought to shew himself a lover of vertue, and that he honors those that excel in every Art. Afterwards ought he encourage his Citizens, whereby they may be enabled quickly to exercise their faculties as well in merchandise, and husbandry, as in any other kind of traffick, to the end that no man forbear to adorne and cultivate his possessions for fear that he be despoyled of them; or any other to open the commerce upon the danger of heavy impositions: but rather to provide rewards for those that shall set these matters afoot, or for any one else that shall any way amplifie his City or State. Besides he ought in the fit times of the year entertain the people with Feasts and Maskes; and because every City is devided into Companies, and arts, and Tribes, he ought to take special notice of those bodies, and some times afford them a meeting, and give them some proof of his humanity, and magnificence; yet withall holding firme the majestie of his State; for this must never fail in any case.

CHAP. XXII. Touching Princes Secretaries.

It is no small importance to a Prince, the choyce he makes, of servants being ordinarily good or bad, as his wisdome is. And the first conjecture one gives of a great man, and of his understanding, is, upon the sight of his followers and servants he hath about him, when they prove able and faithful, and then may he alwaies be reputed wise because he hath known how to discern those that are able, and to keep them true to him. But when they are otherwise, there can be no good conjecture made of him; for the first error he commits, is in this choyce. There was no man that had any knowledge of Antonio of Vanafro, the servant of Pandulfus Petrucci Prince of Sicily, who did not esteem Pandulfus for a very discreet man, having him for his servant. And because there are three kinds of understandings; the one that is advised by it self; the other that understands when it is informed by another; the third that neither is advised by it self nor by the demonstration of another; the first is best, the second is good, and the last quite unprofitable. Therefore it was of necessity, that if Pandulfus attaind not the first degree, yet he got to the second; for whenever any one hath the judgement to discerne between the good and the evil, that he does and sayes, however that he hath not his distinction from himself, yet still comes he to take notice of the good or evil actions of that servant; and those he cherishes, and these he suppresses; insomuch that the servant finding no means to deceive his master, keeps himself upright and honest. But how a Prince may throughly understand his servant, here is the way that never fails. When thou seest the servant study more for his own advantage than thine, and that in all his actions, he searches most  after his own profit; this man thus qualified, shall never prove good servant, nor canst thou ever relie upon him: for he that holds the Sterne of the State in hand, ought never call home his cares to his own particular, but give himself wholly over to his Princes service, nor ever put him in minde of any thing not appertaining to him. And on the other side the Prince to keep him good to him, ought to take a care for his servant, honoring him, enriching, and obliging him to him, giving him part both of dignities and offices, to the end that the many honors and much wealth bestowed on him, may restrain his desires from other honors, and other wealth, and that those many charges cause him to fear changes that may fall, knowing he is not able to stand without his master. And when both the Princes and the servants are thus disposed, they may rely the one upon the other: when otherwise, the end will ever prove hurtfull for the one as well as for the other.

CHAP. XXIII. That Flatterers are to be avoyded.

I will not omit one principle of great inportance, being an errour from which Princes with much difficulty defend themselves, unlesse they be very discreet, and make a very good choice; and this is concerning flatterers; whereof all writings are full: and that because men please themselves so much in their own things, and therein cozen themselves, that very hardly can they escape this pestilence; and desiring to escape it, there is danger of falling into contempt; for there is no other way to be secure from flattery, but to let men know, that they displease thee not in telling thee truth: but when every one hath this leave, thou losest thy reverence. Therefore ought  a wise Prince take a third course, making choyce of some understanding men in his State, and give only to them a free liberty of speaking to him the truth; and touching those things only which he inquires of, and nothing else; but he ought to be inquisitive of every thing, and hear their opinions, and then afterwards advise himself after his own manner; and in these deliberations, and with every one of them so carrie himself, that they all know, that the more freely they shall speak, the better they shall be liked of: and besides those, not give eare to any one; and thus pursue the thing resolved on, and thence continue obstinate in the resolution taken. He who does otherwise, either falls upon flatterers, or often changes upon the varying of opinions, from whence proceeds it that men conceive but slightly of him. To this purpose I will alledge you a moderne example. Peter Lucas a servant of Maximilians the present Emperor, speaking of his Majesty, said that he never advised with any body, nor never did any thing after his own way: which was because he took a contrary course to what we have now said: for the Emperor is a close man, who communicates his secrets to none, nor takes counsel of any one; but as they come to be put in practise, they begin to be discovered and known, and so contradicted by those that are near about him; and he as being an easy man, is quickly wrought from them. Whence it comes that what he does to day, he undoes on the morrow; and that he never understands himself what he would, nor what he purposes, and that there is no grounding upon any of his resolutions. A Prince therefore ought alwayes to take counsell, but at his owne pleasure, and not at other mens; or rather should take away any mans courage to advise him of any thing, but what he askes: but he ought well to aske at large, and then touching the things inquird of, be a patient hearer of the truth; and perceiving that for some respect the truth were conceald from him, be displeased thereat. And because some men have thought that a Prince that gaines the opinion to bee wise, may bee held so, not by his owne naturall indowments, but by the good counsells he hath about him; without  question they are deceivd; for this is a generall rule and never failes, that a Prince who of himselfe is not wise, can never be well advised, unlesse he should light upon one alone, wholly to direct and govern him, who himself were a very wise man. In this case it is possible he may be well governd: but this would last but little: for that governor in a short time would deprive him of his State; but a Prince not having any parts of nature, being advised of more then one, shall never be able to unite these counsels: of himself shall he never know how to unite them; and each one of the Counsellers, probably will follow that which is most properly his owne; and he shall never find the meanes to amend or discerne these things; nor can they fall out otherwise, because men alwayes prove mischievous, unlesse upon some necessity they be forc’d to become good: we conclude therefore, that counsells from whencesoever they proceed, must needs take their beginning from the Princes wisdome, and not the wisdome of the Prince from good counsells.

In this Chapter our Authour prescribes some rules how to avoyd flattery, and not to fall into contempt. The extent of these two extreames is so large on both sides, that there is left but a very narrow path for the right temper to walke between them both: and happy were that Prince, who could light on so good a Pilote as to bring him to Port between those rocks and those quicksands. Where Majesty becomes familiar, unlesse endued with a super-eminent vertue, it loses all awfull regards: as the light of the Sunne, because so ordinary, because so common, we should little value, were it not that all Creatures feele themselves quickned by the rayes thereof. On the other side, Omnis insipiens arrogantiâ et plausibus capitur, Every foole is taken with his owne pride and others flatteryes: and this foole keeps company so much with all great wise men, that hardly with a candle and lantern can they be discernd betwixt. The greatest men are more subject to grosse and palpable flatteries; and especially the greatest of men, who are Kings and Princes: for many seek the Rulers favour. Prov. 28. 26. For there are divers meanes whereby private men are instructed; Princes have not that good hap: but they whose instruction is of most importance, so soone as they have taken the government upon them, no longer suffer any  reproovers: for but few have accesse unto them, and they who familiary converse with them, doe and say all for favour. Isocrat, to Nicocles, All are afraid to give him occasion of displeasure, though by telling him truth. To this purpose therefore sayes one; a Prince excells in learning to ride the great horse, rather than in any other exercise, because his horse being no flatterer, will shew him he makes no difference between him and another man, and unlesse he keepe his seate well, will lay him on the ground. This is plaine dealing. Men are more subtile, more double-hearted, they have a heart and a heart neither is their tongue their hearts true interpreter. Counsell in the heart of man is like deepe waters; but a man of understanding will draw it out. Prov. 20. 5. This understanding is most requisite in a Prince, inasmuch as the whole Globe is in his hand, and the inferiour Orbes are swayed by the motion of the highest. And therefore surely it is the honour of a King to search out such a secret: Prov. 25. 2. His counsellours are his eyes and eares; as they ought to be dear to him, so they ought to be true to him, and make him the true report of things without disguise. If they prove false eyes, let him pluck them out; he may as they use glasse eyes, take them forth without paine, and see never a whit the worse for it. The wisdome of a Princes Counsellours is a great argument of the Princes wisdome. And being the choyce of them imports the Princes credit and safety, our Authour will make him amends for his other errours by his good advice in his 22 Chap. whether I referre him.

CHAP. XXIV. Wherefore the Princes of Italy have lost their States.

When these things above said are well observ’d, they make a new Prince seeme as if he had been of old, and presently render him more secure and firme in the State, than if he had already grown ancient therein: for a new Prince is much more observd in his action, than a Prince by inheritance; and when they are known to bee vertuous, men are much more gaind and oblig’d to them thereby, than by the antiquity of their blood: for men  are much more taken by things present, than by things past, and when in the present they find good, they content themselves therein, and seeke no further; or rather they undertake the defence of him to their utmost, when the Prince is not wanting in other matters to himself; and so shall he gaine double glory to have given a beginning to a new Principality, adornd, and strengthnd it with good lawes, good arms, good friends, and good examples; as he shall have double shame, that is born a Prince, and by reason of his small discretion hath lost it. And if we shall consider those Lords, that in Italy have lost their States in our dayes, as the King of Naples, the Duke of Milan, and others; first we shall find in them a common defect, touching their armes, for the reasons which have been above discoursd at length. Afterwards we shall see some of them, that either shall have had the people for their enemies; or be it they had the people to friend, could never know how to assure themselves of the great ones: for without such defects as these, States are not lost, which have so many nerves, that they are able to maintaine an army in the feld. Philip of Macedon, not the father of Alexander the Great, but he that was vanquished by Titus Quintius, had not much State in regard of the greatnesse of the Romanes and of Greece that assail’d him; neverthelesse in that he was a warlike man and knew how to entertaine the people, and assure himself of the Nobles, for many yeares he made the warre good against them: and though at last some town perhaps were taken from him, yet the Kingdome remaind in his hands still. Wherefore these our Princes who for many yeares had continued in their Principalities, for having afterwards lost them, let them not blame Fortune, but their own sloth; because they never having thought during the time of quiet, that they could suffer a change (which is the common fault of men, while faire weather lasts, not to provide for the tempest) when afterwards mischiefes came upon them, thought rather upon flying from them, than upon their defence, and hop’d that the people, weary of the vanquishers insolence, would recall them: which course when the others faile, is good:  but very ill is it to leave the other remedies for that: for a man wou’d never go to fall, beleeving another would come to take him up: which may either not come to passe, or if it does, it is not for thy security, because that defence of his is vile, and depends not upon thee; but those defences only are good, certaine, and durable, which depend upon thy owne selfe, and thy owne vertues.

CHAP. XXV. How great power Fortune hath in humane affaires, and what meanes there is to resist it.

It is not unknown unto me, how that many have held opinion, and still hold it, that the affaires of the world are so governd by fortune, and by God, that men by their wisdome cannot amend or alter them; or rather that there is no remedy for them: and hereupon they would think that it were of no availe to take much paines in any thing, but leave all to be governd by chance. This opinion hath gain’d the more credit in our dayes, by reason of the great alteration of things, which we have of late seen, and do every day see, beyond all humane conjecture: upon which, I sometimes thinking, am in some parte inclind to their opinion: neverthelesse not to extinguish quite our owne free will, I think it may be true, that Fortune is the mistrisse of one halfe of our actions; but yet that she lets us have rule of the other half, or little lesse. And I liken her to a precipitous torrent, which when it rages, over-flows the plaines, overthrowes the trees, and buildings, removes the earth from one side, and laies it on another, every one flyes before it, every one yeelds to the fury thereof, as unable to  withstand it; and yet however it be thus, when the times are calmer, men are able to make provision against these excesses, with banks and fences so, that afterwards when it swels again, it shall all passe smoothly along, within its channell, or else the violence thereof shall not prove so licentious and hurtfull. In like manner befals it us with fortune, which there shewes her power where vertue is not ordeind to resist her, and thither turnes she all her forces, where she perceives that no provisions nor resistances are made to uphold her. And if you shall consider Italy, which is the seat of these changes, and that which hath given them their motions, you shall see it to be a plaine field, without any trench or bank; which had it been fenc’d with convenient vertue as was Germany, Spain or France; this inundation would never have causd these great alterations it hath, or else would it not have reach’d to us: and this shall suffice to have said, touching the opposing of fortune in generall. But restraining my selfe more to particulars, I say that to day we see a Prince prosper and flourish and to morrow utterly go to ruine; not seeing that he hath alterd any condition or quality; which I beleeve arises first from the causes which we have long since run over, that is because that Prince that relies wholly upon fortune, runnes as her wheele turnes. I beleeve also, that he proves the fortunate man, whose manner of proceeding meets with the quality of the time; and so likewise he unfortunate from whose course of proceeding the times differ: for we see that men, in the things that induce them to the end, (which every one propounds to himselfe, as glory and riches) proceed therein diversly; some with respects, others more bold, and rashly; one with violence, and th’other with cunning; the one with patience, th’other with its contrary; and every one of severall wayes may attaine thereto; we see also two very respective and wary men, the one come to his purpose, and th’other not; and in like maner two equally prosper, taking divers course; the one being wary the other head-strong; which proceeds from nothing else, but from the quality of the times, which agree, or not, with their proceedings.  From hence arises that which I said, that two working diversly, produce the same effect: and two equaly working, the one attains his end, the other not. Hereupon depends the alteration of the good; for if to one that behaves himself with warinesse and patience, times and affaires turne so favourably, that the carriage of his businesse prove well, he prospers; but if the times and affaires chance, he is ruind, because he changes not his manner of proceeding: nor is there any man so wise, that can frame himselfe hereunto; as well because he cannot go out of the way, from that whereunto Nature inclines him: as also, for that one having alwayes prosperd, walking such a way, cannot be perswaded to leave it; and therefore the respective and wary man, when it is fit time for him to use violence and force, knows not how to put it in practice, whereupon he is ruind: but if he could change his disposition with the times and the affaires, he should not change his fortune. Pope Julius the second proceeded in all his actions with very great violence, and found the times and things so conformable to that his manner of proceeding that in all of them he had happy successe. Consider the first exploit he did at Bolonia, even while John Bentivolio lived: the Venetians were not well contented therewith; the King of Spaine likewise with the French, had treated of that enterprise; and notwithstanding al this, he stirrd up by his own rage and fiercenesse, personally undertook that expedition: which action of his put in suspence and stopt Spaine and the Venetians; those for feare, and the others for desire to recover the Kingdome of Naples; and on the other part drew after him the King of France; for that King seeing him already in motion, and desiring to hold him his friend, whereby to humble the Venetians, thought he could no way deny him his souldiers, without doing him an open injury. Julius then effected that with his violent and heady motion, which no other Pope with all humane wisdome could ever have done; for if he had expected to part from Rome with his conclusions settled, and all his affaires ordered before hand, as any other Pope would have done, he had never brought it to passe:  For the King of France would have devised a thousand excuses, and others would have put him in as many feares. I will let passe his other actions, for all of them were alike, and all of them prov’d lucky to him; and the brevity of his life never sufferd him to feele the contrary: for had he litt upon such times afterwards, that it had been necessary for him to proceed with respects, there had been his utter ruine; for he would never have left those wayes, to which he had been naturally inclind. I conclude then, fortune varying, and men continuing still obstinate to their own wayes, prove happy, while these accord together: and as they disagree, prove unhappy: and I think it true, that it is better to be heady than wary; because Fortune is a mistresse; and it is necessary, to keep her in obedience to ruffle and force her: and we see, that she suffers her self rather to be masterd by those, than by others that proceed coldly. And therefore, as a mistresse, shee is a friend to young men, because they are lesse respective, more rough, and command her with more boldnesse.

I have considered the 25 Chapter, as representing me a full view of humane policy and cunning: yet me thinks it cannot satisfie a Christian in the causes of the good and bad successe of things. The life of man is like a game at Tables; skill availes much I grant, but that’s not all: play thy game well, but that will not winne: the chance thou throwest must accord with thy play. Examine this; play never so surely, play never so probably, unlesse the chance thou castest, lead thee forward to advantage, all hazards are losses, and thy sure play leaves thee in the lurch. The sum of this is set down in Ecclesiastes cha. v. 11. The race is not to the swift, nor the battell to the strong: neither yet bread to the wise, nor yet riches to men of understanding, nor yet favour to men of skill; but time and chance hapeneth to them all. Our cunning Author for all his exact rules he delivere in his books, could not fence against the despight of Fortune, as he complaines in his Epistle to this booke. Nor that great example of policy, Duke Valentine, whome our Author commends to Princes for his crafts-master, could so ruffle or force his mistresse Fortune, that he could keep her in obedience. Man can contribute no more to his actions than vertue and wisdome: but the successe depends upon a power above. Surely there is the  finger of god; or as Prov. 16. v. 33. ‘The lot is cast into the lap, but the whole disposing thereof is of the Lord.’ It was not Josephs wisdome made all things thrive under his hand; but because the Lord was with him; and that which he did, the Lord made it to prosper, Gen. 39. Surely this is a blessing proceeding from the divine providence, which beyond humane capacity so cooperateth with the causes, as that their effects prove answerable, and sometimes (that we may know there is something above the ordinary causes) the success returns with such a supereminency of worth, that it far exceeds the vertue of the ordinary causes.

CHAP. XXVI. An Exhortation to free Italy from the Barbarians.

Having then weighed all things above discours’d, and devising with my self, whether at this present in Italy the time might serve to honor a new Prince, and whether there were matter that might minister occasion to a wise and valorous Prince, to introduce such a forme, that might do honor to him, and good to the whole generality of the people in the countrey: me thinks so many things concurre in favor of a new Prince, that I know not whether there were ever any time more proper for this purpose. And if as I said, it was necessary, desiring to see Moses his vertue, that the children of Israel should be inthrald in Ægypt; and to have experience of the magnanimity of Cyrus his mind, that the Persians should be oppress’d by the Medes; and to set forth the excellency of Theseus, that the Athenians should be dispersed; so at this present now we are desirous to know the valor of an Italian spirit, it were necessary Italy should be reduc’d to the same termes it is now in, and were in more slavery than the Hebrews were; more subject than the Persians, more  scatterd than the Athenians; without head, without order, battered, pillaged, rent asunder, overrun, and had undergone all kind of destruction. And however even in these later dayes, we have had some kind of shew of hope in some one, whereby we might have conjectur’d, that he had been ordained for the deliverance hereof, yet it prov’d afterwards, that in the very height of all his actions he was curb’d by fortune, insomuch that this poore countrey remaining as it were without life, attends still for him that shall heal her wounds, give an end to all those pillagings and sackings of Lombardy, to those robberies and taxations of the Kingdome, and of Tuscany, and heal them of their soars, now this long time gangren’d. We see how she makes her prayers to God, that he send some one to redeem her from these Barbarous cruelties and insolencies. We see her also wholly ready and disposed to follow any colours, provided there be any one take them up. Nor do we see at this present, that she can look for other, than your Illustrious Family, to become Cheiftain of this deliverance, which hath now by its own vertue and Fortune been so much exalted, and favored by God and the Church, whereof it now holds the Principality: and this shall not be very hard for you to do, if you shall call to mind the former actions, and lives of those that are above named. And though those men were very rare and admirable, yet were they men, and every one of them began upon less occasion than this; for neither was their enterprize more just than this, nor more easie; nor was God more their friend, than yours. Here is very great justice: for that war is just, that is necessary; and those armes are religious, when there is no hope left otherwhere, but in them. Here is an exceeding good disposition thereto: nor can there be, where there is a good disposition, a giant difficulty, provided that use be made of those orders, which I propounded for aim and direction to you. Besides this, here we see extraordinary things without example effected by God; the sea was opened, a cloud guided the way, devotion poured forth the waters, and it rain’d down Manna; all these things have concurred in your greatness,  the rest is left for you to do. God will not do every thing himself, that he may not take from us our free will, and of that glory that belongs to us. Neither is it a marvel, if any of the aforenamed Italians have not been able to compass that, which we may hope your illustrious family shall: though in so many revolutions of Italy, and so many feats of war, it may seem that the whole military vertue therein be quite extinguisht; for this arises from that the ancient orders thereof were not good; and there hath since been none that hath known how to invent new ones. Nothing can so much honor a man rising anew, as new laws and new ordinances devised by him: these things when they have a good foundation given them, and contain in them their due greatness, gain him reverence and admiration; and in Italy their wants not the matter wherein to introduce any forme. Here is great vertue in the members, were it not wanting in the heads. Consider in the single fights that have been, and duels, how much the Italians have excel’d in their strength, activity and address; but when they come to armies, they appear not, and all proceeds from the weakness of the Chieftaines; for they that understand the managing of these matters, are not obeyed; and every one presumes to understand; hitherto there having not been any one so highly raised either by fortune or vertue, as that others would submit unto him. From hence proceeds it, that in so long time, and in so many battels fought for these last past 20 years, when there hath been an army wholly Italian, it alwaies hath had evil success; whereof the river Tarus first was witness, afterwards Alexandria, Capua, Genua, Vayla, Bolonia, Mestri. Your Illustrious family then being desirous to tread the footsteps of these Worthyes who redeem’d their countreys, must above all things as the very foundation of the whole fabrick, be furnished with soldiers of your own natives: because you cannot have more faithful, true, nor better soldiers; and though every one of them be good, all together they will become better when they shall find themselves entertained, commanded, and honored by their own Prince. Wherefore it is necessary to provide for  those armes, whereby to be able with the Italian valor to make a defence against forreiners. And however the Swisse infantry and Spanish be accounted terrible; yet is there defect in both of them, by which a third order might not only oppose them, but may be confident to vanquish them: for the Spaniards are not able to indure the Horse, and the Swisse are to feare the foot, when they incounter with them, as resolute in the fight as they; whereupon it hath been seen, and upon experience shall be certain, that the Spaniards are not able to beare up against the French Cavalery, and the Swisses have been routed by the Spanish Foot. And though touching this last, there hath not been any entire experience had, yet was there some proof thereof given in the battel of Ravenna, when the Spanish Foot affronted the Dutch battalions, which keep the same rank the Swisses do, where the Spaniards with their nimbleness of body, and the help of their targets entred in under their Pikes, and there stood safe to offend them, the Dutch men having no remedy: and had it not been for the Cavalery that rusht in upon them, they had quite defeated them. There may then (the defect of the one and other of these two infantries being discoverd) another kind of them be anew ordained, which may be able to make resistance against the Horse, and not fear the Foot, which shall not be a new sort of armes, but change of orders. And these are some of those things which ordained a new, gain reputation and greatness to a new Prince. Therefore this occasion should not be let pass, to the end that Italy after so long a time may see some one redeemer of hers appear. Nor can I express with what dearness of affection he would be received in all those countreys which have suffered by those forrein scums, with what thirst of revenge, with what resolution of fidelity, with what piety, with what tears. Would any gates be shut again him? Any people deny him obedience? Any envy oppose him? Would not every Italian fully consent with him? This government of the Barbarians stinks in every ones nostrils. Let your Illustrious Family then undertake this worthy exployt with that courage and  those hopes wherewith such just actions are to be attempted; to the end that under your colours, this countrey may be enabled, and under the protection of your fortune that saying of Petrarch be verifyed.

Virtù contr’ al fuore

Prendera l’arme, e fia il combatter corto:

Che l’antico valore

Ne gli Italici cor non è morto.

Vertue against fury shall advance the fight,

And it i’ th’ combate soon shall put to flight:

For th’ old Roman valor is not dead,

Nor in th’ Italians brests extinguished.

FINIS

CHRISTIAN E. DETMOLD TRANSLATION, 1882

CONTENTS

NICCOLO MACHIAVELLI TO THE MAGNIFICENT LORENZO, SON OF PIERO DE’ MEDICI.

CHAPTER I. HOW MANY KINDS OF PRINCIPALITIES THERE ARE, AND IN WHAT MANNER THEY ARE ACQUIRED.

CHAPTER II. OF HEREDITARY PRINCIPALITIES.

CHAPTER III. OF MIXED PRINCIPALITIES.

CHAPTER IV. WHY THE KINGDOM OF DARIUS, WHICH WAS CONQUERED BY ALEXANDER, DID NOT REVOLT AGAINST THE SUCCESSORS OF ALEXANDER AFTER HIS DEATH.

CHAPTER V. HOW CITIES OR PRINCIPALITIES ARE TO BE GOVERNED THAT PREVIOUS TO BEING CONQUERED HAD LIVED UNDER THEIR OWN LAWS.

CHAPTER VI. OF NEW PRINCIPALITIES THAT HAVE BEEN ACQUIRED BY THE VALOR OF THE PRINCE AND BY HIS OWN TROOPS.

CHAPTER VII. OF NEW PRINCIPALITIES THAT HAVE BEEN ACQUIRED BY THE AID OF OTHERS AND BY GOOD FORTUNE.

CHAPTER VIII. OF SUCH AS HAVE ACHIEVED SOVEREIGNTY BY MEANS OF CRIMES.

CHAPTER IX. OF CIVIL PRINCIPALITIES.

CHAPTER X. IN WHAT MANNER THE POWER OF ALL PRINCIPALITIES SHOULD BE MEASURED.

CHAPTER XI. OF ECCLESIASTICAL PRINCIPALITIES.

CHAPTER XII. OF THE DIFFERENT KINDS OF TROOPS, AND OF MERCENARIES.

CHAPTER XIII. OF AUXILIARIES, AND OF MIXED AND NATIONAL TROOPS.

CHAPTER XIV. OF THE DUTIES OF A PRINCE IN RELATION TO MILITARY MATTERS.

CHAPTER XV. OF THE MEANS BY WHICH MEN, AND ESPECIALLY PRINCES, WIN APPLAUSE, OR INCUR CENSURE.

CHAPTER XVI. OF LIBERALITY AND PARSIMONIOUSNESS.

CHAPTER XVII. OF CRUELTY AND CLEMENCY, AND WHETHER IT IS BETTER TO BE LOVED THAN FEARED.

CHAPTER XVIII. IN WHAT MANNER PRINCES SHOULD KEEP THEIR FAITH.

CHAPTER XIX. A PRINCE MUST AVOID BEING CONTEMNED AND HATED.

CHAPTER XX. WHETHER THE ERECTION OF FORTRESSES, AND MANY OTHER THINGS WHICH PRINCES OFTEN DO, ARE USEFUL, OR INJURIOUS.

CHAPTER XXI. HOW PRINCES SHOULD CONDUCT THEMSELVES TO ACQUIRE A REPUTATION.

CHAPTER XXII. OF THE MINISTERS OF PRINCES.

CHAPTER XXIII. HOW TO AVOID FLATTERERS.

CHAPTER XXIV. THE REASON WHY THE PRINCES OF ITALY HAVE LOST THEIR STATES.

CHAPTER XXV. OF THE INFLUENCE OF FORTUNE IN HUMAN AFFAIRS, AND HOW IT MAY BE COUNTERACTED.

CHAPTER XXVI. EXHORTATION TO DELIVER ITALY FROM FOREIGN BARBARIANS.

NICCOLO MACHIAVELLI TO THE MAGNIFICENT LORENZO, SON OF PIERO DE’ MEDICI.

Those who desire to win the favor of princes generally endeavor to do so by offering them those things which they themselves prize most, or such as they observe the prince to delight in most. Thence it is that princes have very often presented to them horses, arms, cloth of gold, precious stones, and similar ornaments worthy of their greatness. Wishing now myself to offer to your Magnificence some proof of my devotion, I have found nothing amongst all I possess that I hold more dear or esteem more highly than the knowledge of the actions of great men, which I have acquired by long experience of modern affairs, and a continued study of ancient history.

These I have meditated upon for a long time, and examined with great care and diligence; and having now written them out in a small volume, I send this to your Magnificence. And although I judge this work unworthy of you, yet I trust that your kindness of heart may induce you to accept it, considering that I cannot offer you anything better than the means of understanding in the briefest time all that which I have learnt by so many years of study, and with so much trouble and danger to myself.

I have not set off this little work with pompous phrases, nor filled it with high-sounding and magnificent words, nor with any other allurements or extrinsic embellishments with which many are wont to write and adorn their works; for I wished  that mine should derive credit only from the truth of the matter, and that the importance of the subject should make it acceptable.

And I hope it may not be accounted presumption if a man of lowly and humble station ventures to discuss and direct the conduct of princes; for as those who wish to delineate countries place themselves low in the plain to observe the form and character of mountains and high places, and for the purpose of studying the nature of the low country place themselves high upon an eminence, so one must be a prince to know well the character of the people, and to understand well the nature of a prince one must be of the people.

May your Magnificence then accept this little gift in the same spirit in which I send it; and if you will read and consider it well, you will recognize in it my desire that you may attain that greatness which fortune and your great qualities promise. And if your Magnificence will turn your eyes from the summit of your greatness towards those low places, you will know how undeservedly I have to bear the great and continued malice of fortune.

CHAPTER I. HOW MANY KINDS OF PRINCIPALITIES THERE ARE, AND IN WHAT MANNER THEY ARE ACQUIRED.

All states and governments that have had, and have at present, dominion over men, have been and are either republics or principalities.

The principalities are either hereditary or they are new. Hereditary principalities are those where the government has been for a long time in the family of the prince. New principalities are either entirely new, as was Milan to Francesco Sforza, or they are like appurtenances annexed to the hereditary state of the prince who acquires them, as the kingdom of Naples is to that of Spain.

States thus acquired have been accustomed either to live under a prince, or to exist as free states; and they are acquired either by the arms of others, or by the conqueror’s own, or by fortune or valor.

CHAPTER II. OF HEREDITARY PRINCIPALITIES.

I will not discuss here the subject of republics, having treated of them at length elsewhere, but will confine myself only to principalities; and following the above indicated order of distinctions, I will proceed to discuss how states of this kind should be governed and maintained. I say, then, that hereditary  states, accustomed to the line of their prince, are maintained with much less difficulty than new states. For it is enough merely that the prince do not transcend the order of things established by his predecessors, and then to accommodate himself to events as they occur. So that if such a prince has but ordinary sagacity, he will always maintain himself in his state, unless some extraordinary and superior force should deprive him of it. And even in such a case he will recover it, whenever the occupant meets with any reverses. We have in Italy, for instance, the Duke of Ferrara, who could not have resisted the assaults of the Venetians in 1484, nor those of Pope Julius II. in 1510, but for the fact that his family had for a great length of time held the sovereignty of that dominion. For the natural prince has less cause and less necessity for irritating his subjects, whence it is reasonable that he should be more beloved. And unless extraordinary vices should cause him to be hated, he will naturally have the affection of his people. For in the antiquity and continuity of dominion the memory of innovations, and their causes, are effaced; for each change and alteration always prepares the way and facilitates the next.

CHAPTER III. OF MIXED PRINCIPALITIES.

But it is in a new principality that difficulties present themselves. In the first place, if it be not entirely new, but composed of different parts, which when taken all together may as it were be called mixed, its mutations arise in the beginning from a natural difficulty, which is inherent in all new principalities, because men change their rulers gladly, in the belief that they will better themselves by the change. It is this belief that makes them take up arms against the reigning prince; but in this they deceive themselves, for they find afterwards from experience that they have only made their condition worse. This is the inevitable consequence of another natural and ordinary necessity, which ever obliges a new prince to vex his people with the maintenance of an armed force, and by an infinite number of other wrongs that follow in the train of  new conquests. Thus the new prince finds that he has for enemies all those whom he has injured by seizing that principality; and at the same time he cannot preserve as friends even those who have aided him in obtaining possession, because he cannot satisfy their expectations, nor can he employ strong measures against them, being under obligations to them. For however strong a new prince may be in troops, yet will he always have need of the good will of the inhabitants, if he wishes to enter into firm possession of the country.

It was for these reasons that Louis XII., king of France, having suddenly made himself master of Milan, lost it as quickly, Lodovico Sforza’s own troops alone having sufficed to wrest it from him the first time. For the very people who had opened the gates to Louis XII., finding themselves deceived in their expectations of immediate as well as prospective advantages, soon became disgusted with the burdens imposed by the new prince.

It is very true that, having recovered such revolted provinces, it is easier to keep them in subjection; for the prince will avail himself of the occasion of the rebellion to secure himself, with less consideration for the people, by punishing the guilty, watching the suspected, and strengthening himself at all the weak points of the province. Thus a mere demonstration on the frontier by Lodovico Sforza lost Milan to the French the first time; but to make them lose it a second time required the whole world to be against them, and that their armies should be dispersed and driven out of Italy; which resulted from the reasons which I have explained above. Nevertheless, France lost Milan both the first and the second time.

The general causes of the first loss have been sufficiently explained; but it remains to be seen now what occasioned the loss of Milan to France the second time, and to point out the remedies which the king had at his command, and which might be employed by any other prince under similar circumstances to maintain himself in a conquered province, but which King Louis XII. failed to employ.

I will say then, first, that the states which a prince acquires and annexes to his own dominions are either in the same country, speaking the same language, or they are not. When they are, it is very easy to hold them, especially if they have not been accustomed to govern themselves; for in that case it suffices  to extinguish the line of the prince who, till then, has ruled over them, but otherwise to maintain their old institutions. There being no difference in their manners and customs, the inhabitants will submit quietly, as we have seen in the case of Burgundy, Brittany, Gascony, and Normandy, which provinces have remained so long united to France. For although there are some differences of language, yet their customs are similar, and therefore they were easily reconciled to each other. Hence, in order to retain a newly acquired state, regard must be had to two things: one, that the line of the ancient sovereign be entirely extinguished; and the other, that the laws be not changed, nor the taxes increased, so that the new may, in the least possible time, be thoroughly incorporated with the ancient state.

But when states are acquired in a country differing in language, customs, and laws, then come the difficulties, and then it requires great good-fortune and much sagacity to hold them; and one of the best and most efficient means is for the prince who has acquired them to go and reside there, which will make his possession more secure and durable. Such was the course adopted by the Turk in Greece, who even if he had respected all the institutions of that country, yet could not possibly have succeeded in holding it, if he had not gone to reside there. For being on the spot, you can quickly remedy disorders as you see them arise; but not being there, you do not hear of them until they have become so great that there is no longer any remedy for them. Besides this, the country will not be despoiled by your officials, and the subjects will be satisfied by the easy recourse to the prince who is near them, which contributes to win their affections, if they are well disposed, and to inspire them with fear, if otherwise. And other powers will hesitate to assail a state where the prince himself resides, as they would find it very difficult to dispossess him.

The next best means for holding a newly acquired state is to establish colonies in one or two places that are as it were the keys to the country. Unless this is done, it will be necessary to keep a large force of men-at-arms and infantry there for its protection. Colonies are not very expensive to the prince; they can be established and maintained at little, if any, cost to him; and only those of the inhabitants will be injured by him whom he deprives of their homes and fields, for the purpose of  bestowing them upon the colonists; and this will be the case only with a very small minority of the original inhabitants. And as those who are thus injured by him become dispersed and poor, they can never do him any harm, whilst all the other inhabitants remain on the one hand uninjured, and therefore easily kept quiet, and on the other hand they are afraid to stir, lest they should be despoiled as the others have been. I conclude then that such colonies are inexpensive, and are more faithful to the prince and less injurious to the inhabitants generally; whilst those who are injured by their establishment become poor and dispersed, and therefore unable to do any harm, as I have already said. And here we must observe that men must either be flattered or crushed; for they will revenge themselves for slight wrongs, whilst for grave ones they cannot. The injury therefore that you do to a man should be such that you need not fear his revenge.

But if instead of colonies an armed force be sent for the preservation of a newly acquired province, then it will involve much greater expenditures, so that the support of such a guard may consume the entire revenue of the province; so that this acquisition may prove an actual loss, and will moreover give greater offence, because the whole population will feel aggrieved by having the armed force quartered upon them in turn. Every one that is made to suffer from this inconvenience will become an enemy; and these are enemies that can injure the prince, for although beaten yet they remain in their homes. In every point of view, then, such a military guard is disadvantageous, just as colonies are most useful.

A prince, moreover, who wishes to keep possession of a country that is separate and unlike his own, must make himself the chief and protector of the smaller neighboring powers. He must endeavor to weaken the most powerful of them, and must take care that by no chance a stranger enter that province who is equally powerful with himself; for strangers are never called in except by those whom an undue ambition or fear have rendered malcontents. It was thus in fact that the Ætolians called the Romans into Greece; and whatever other country the Romans entered, it was invariably at the request of the inhabitants.

The way in which these things happen is generally thus: so soon as a powerful foreigner enters a province, all those of its  inhabitants that are less powerful will give him their adhesion, being influenced thereto by their jealousy of him who has hitherto been their superior. So that, as regards these petty lords, the new prince need not be at any trouble to win them over to himself, as they will all most readily become incorporated with the state which he has there acquired. He has merely to see to it that they do not assume too much authority, or acquire too much power; for he will then be able by their favor, and by his own strength, very easily to humble those who are really powerful; so that he will in all respects remain the sole arbiter of that province. And he who does not manage this part well will quickly lose what he has acquired; and whilst he holds it, he will experience infinite difficulties and vexations. The Romans observed these points most carefully in the provinces which they conquered; they established colonies there, and sustained the feebler chiefs without increasing their power, whilst they humbled the stronger, and permitted no powerful stranger to acquire any influence or credit there. I will confine myself for an example merely to the provinces of Greece. The Romans sustained the Achaians and the Ætolians, whilst they humbled the kingdom of Macedon and expelled Antiochus from his dominions; but neither the merits of the Achaians or of the Ætolians caused the Romans to permit either of them to increase in power; nor could the persuasions of Philip induce the Romans to become his friends until after first having humbled his power; nor could the power of Antiochus make them consent that he should hold any state in that province.

Thus in all these cases the Romans did what all wise princes ought to do; namely, not only to look to all present troubles, but also to those of the future, against which they provided with the utmost prudence. For it is by foreseeing difficulties from afar that they are easily provided against; but awaiting their near approach, remedies are no longer in time, for the malady has become incurable. It happens in such cases, as the doctors say of consumption, that in the early stages it is easy to cure, but difficult to recognize; whilst in the course of time, the disease not having been recognized and cured in the beginning, it becomes easy to know, but difficult to cure. And thus it is in the affairs of state; for when the evils that arise in it are seen far ahead, which it is given only to a wise prince to  do, then they are easily remedied; but when, in consequence of not having been foreseen, these evils are allowed to grow and assume such proportions that they become manifest to every one, then they can no longer be remedied.

The Romans therefore, on seeing troubles far ahead, always strove to avert them in time, and never permitted their growth merely for the sake of avoiding a war, well knowing that the war would not be prevented, and that to defer it would only be an advantage to others; and for these reasons they resolved upon attacking Philip and Antiochus in Greece, so as to prevent these from making war upon them in Italy. They might at the time have avoided both the one and the other, but would not do it; nor did they ever fancy the saying which is nowadays in the mouth of every wiseacre, “to bide the advantages of time,” but preferred those of their own valor and prudence; for time drives all things before it, and may lead to good as well as to evil, and to evil as well as to good.

But let us return to France, and examine whether she has done any one of the things that we have spoken of. I will say nothing of Charles VIII., but only of Louis XII., whose proceedings we are better able to understand, as he held possession of Italy for a greater length of time. And we shall see how he did the very opposite of what he should have done, for the purpose of holding a state so unlike his own.

King Louis XII. was called into Italy by the ambition of the Venetians, who wanted him to aid them in conquering a portion of Lombardy. I will not blame the king for the part he took; for, wishing to gain a foothold in Italy, and having no allies there, but rather finding the gates everywhere closed against him in consequence of the conduct of King Charles VIII., he was obliged to avail himself of such friends as he could find; and would have succeeded in his attempt, which was well planned, but for an error which he committed in his subsequent conduct. The king, then, having conquered Lombardy, quickly recovered that reputation which his predecessor, Charles VIII., had lost. Genoa yielded; the Florentines became his friends; the Marquis of Mantua, the Duke of Ferrara, the Bentivogli, the lady of Furli, the lords of Faenza, Pesaro, Rimini, Camerino, and Piombino, the Lucchese, the Pisanese, and the Siennese, all came to meet him with offers of friendship. The Venetians might then have recognized the folly of  their course, when, for the sake of gaining two cities in Lombardy, they made King Louis master of two thirds of Italy.

Let us see now how easily the king might have maintained his influence in Italy if he had observed the rules above given. Had he secured and protected all these friends of his, who were numerous but feeble, — some fearing the Church, and some the Venetians, and therefore all forced to adhere to him, — he might easily have secured himself against the remaining stronger powers of Italy. But no sooner in Milan than he did the very opposite, by giving aid to Pope Alexander VI. to enable him to seize the Romagna. Nor did he perceive that in doing this he weakened himself, by alienating his friends and those who had thrown themselves into his arms; and that he had made the Church great by adding so much temporal to its spiritual power, which gave it already so much authority. Having committed this first error, he was obliged to follow it up; so that, for the purpose of putting an end to the ambition of Pope Alexander VI., and preventing his becoming master of Tuscany, he was obliged to come into Italy.

Not content with having made the Church great, and with having alienated his own friends, King Louis, in his eagerness to possess the kingdom of Naples, shared it with the king of Spain; so that where he had been the sole arbiter of Italy, he established an associate and rival, to whom the ambitious and the malcontents might have a ready recourse. And whilst he could have left a king in Naples who would have been his tributary, he dispossessed him, for the sake of replacing him by another who was powerful enough in turn to drive him out.

The desire of conquest is certainly most natural and common amongst men, and whenever they yield to it and are successful, they are praised; but when they lack the means, and yet attempt it anyhow, then they commit an error that merits blame. If, then, the king of France was powerful enough by himself successfully to attack the kingdom of Naples, then he was right to do so; but if he was not, then he should not have divided it with the king of Spain. And if the partition of Lombardy with the Venetians was excusable because it enabled him to gain a foothold in Italy, that of Naples with the Spaniard deserves censure, as it cannot be excused on the ground of necessity.

Louis XII. then committed these five errors: he destroyed the weak; he increased the power of one already powerful in Italy; he established a most powerful stranger there; he did not go to reside there himself; nor did he plant any colonies there. These errors, however, would not have injured him during his lifetime, had he not committed a sixth one in attempting to deprive the Venetians of their possessions. For if Louis had not increased the power of the Church, nor established the Spaniards in Italy, it would have been quite reasonable, and even advisable, for him to have weakened the Venetians; but having done both those things, he ought never to have consented to their ruin; for so long as the Venetians were powerful, they would always have kept others from any attempt upon Lombardy. They would on the one hand never have permitted this unless it should have led to their becoming masters of it, and on the other hand no one would have taken it from France for the sake of giving it to the Venetians; nor would any one have had the courage to attack the French and the Venetians combined. And should it be said that King Louis gave up the Romagna to Pope Alexander VI., and divided the kingdom of Naples with the Spaniard for the sake of avoiding a war, then I reply with the above stated reasons, that no one should ever submit to an evil for the sake of avoiding a war. For a war is never avoided, but is only deferred to one’s own disadvantage.

And should it be argued, on the other hand, that the king felt bound by the pledge which he had given to the Pope to conquer the Romagna for him in consideration of his dissolving the king’s marriage, and of his bestowing the cardinal’s hat upon the Archbishop of Rouen, then I meet that argument with what I shall say further on concerning the pledges of princes, and the manner in which they should keep them.

King Louis then lost Lombardy by not having conformed to any one of the conditions that have been observed by others, who, having conquered provinces, wanted to keep them. Nor is this at all to be wondered at, for it is quite reasonable and common. I conversed on this subject with the Archbishop of Rouen (Cardinal d’Amboise) whilst at Nantes, when the Duke Valentino, commonly called Cesar Borgia, son of Pope Alexander VI., made himself master of the Romagna. On that occasion the Cardinal said to me, that the Italians did not understand  the art of war. To which I replied that the French did not understand statesmanship; for if they had understood it, they would never have allowed the Church to attain such greatness and power. For experience proves that the greatness of the Church and that of Spain in Italy were brought about by France, and that her own ruin resulted therefrom. From this we draw the general rule, which never or rarely fails, that the prince who causes another to become powerful thereby works his own ruin; for he has contributed to the power of the other either by his own ability or force, and both the one and the other will be mistrusted by him whom he has thus made powerful.

CHAPTER IV. WHY THE KINGDOM OF DARIUS, WHICH WAS CONQUERED BY ALEXANDER, DID NOT REVOLT AGAINST THE SUCCESSORS OF ALEXANDER AFTER HIS DEATH.

If we reflect upon the difficulties of preserving a newly acquired state, it seems marvellous that, after the rapid conquest of all Asia by Alexander the Great, and his subsequent death, which one would suppose most naturally to have provoked the whole country to revolt, yet his successors maintained their possession of it, and experienced no other difficulties in holding it than such as arose amongst themselves from their own ambition.

I meet this observation by saying that all principalities of which we have any accounts have been governed in one of two ways; viz. either by one absolute prince, to whom all others are as slaves, some of whom, as ministers, by his grace and consent, aid him in the government of his realm; or else by a prince and nobles, who hold that rank, not by the grace of their sovereign, but by the antiquity of their lineage. Such nobles have estates and subjects of their own, who recognize them as their liege lords, and have a natural affection for them.

In those states that are governed by an absolute prince and slaves, the prince has far more power and authority; for in  his entire dominion no one recognizes any other superior but him; and if they obey any one else, they do it as though to his minister and officer, and without any particular affection for such official. Turkey and France furnish us examples of these two different systems of government at the present time. The whole country of the Turk is governed by one master; all the rest are his slaves; and having divided the country into Sanjacs, or districts, he appoints governors for each of these, whom he changes and replaces at his pleasure.

But the king of France is placed in the midst of a large number of ancient nobles, who are recognized and acknowledged by their subjects as their lords, and are held in great affection by them. They have their rank and prerogatives, of which the king cannot deprive them without danger to himself. In observing now these two principalities, we perceive the difficulty of conquering the empire of the Turk, but once conquered it will be very easily held. The reasons that make the conquest of the Turkish empire so difficult are, that the conqueror cannot be called into the country by any of the great nobles of the state; nor can he hope that his attempt could be facilitated by a revolt of those who surround the sovereign; which arises from the above given reasons. For being all slaves and dependants of their sovereign, it is more difficult to corrupt them; and even if they were corrupted, but little advantage could be hoped for from them, because they cannot carry the people along with them.

Whoever therefore attacks the Turks must expect to find them united, and must depend wholly upon his own forces, and not upon any internal disturbances. But once having defeated and driven the Turk from the field, so that he cannot reorganize his army, then he will have nothing to fear but the line of the sovereign. This however once extinguished, the conqueror has nothing to apprehend from any one else, as none other has any influence with the people; and thus, having had nothing to hope from them before the victory, he will have nothing to fear from them afterwards.

The contrary takes place in kingdoms governed like that of France; for having gained over some of the great nobles of the realm, there will be no difficulty in entering it, there being always malcontents and others who desire a change. These, for the reasons stated, can open the way into the country for  the assailant, and facilitate his success. But for the conqueror to maintain himself there afterwards will involve infinite difficulties, both with the conquered and with those who have aided him in his conquest. Nor will it suffice to extinguish the line of the sovereign, because the great nobles remain, who will place themselves at the head of new movements; and the conqueror, not being able either to satisfy or to crush them, will lose the country again on the first occasion that presents itself.

If now we consider the nature of the government of Darius, we shall find that it resembled that of the Turk, and therefore it was necessary for Alexander to attack him in full force, and drive him from the field. After this victory and the death of Darius, Alexander remained in secure possession of the kingdom for the reasons above explained. And if his successors had remained united, they might also have enjoyed possession at their ease; for no other disturbances occurred in that empire, except such as they created themselves.

Countries, however, with a system of government like that of France, cannot possibly be held so easily. The frequent insurrections of Spain, France, and Greece against the Romans were due to the many petty princes that existed in those states; and therefore, so long as the memory of these princes endured, the Romans were ever uncertain in the tenure of those states. But all remembrance of these princes once effaced, the Romans became secure possessors of those countries, so long as the growth and power of their empire endured. And even afterwards, when fighting amongst themselves, each of the parties were able to keep for themselves portions of those countries, according to the authority which they had acquired there; and the line of their sovereigns being extinguished, the inhabitants recognized no other authority but that of the Romans.

Reflecting now upon these things, we cannot be surprised at the facility with which Alexander maintained himself in Asia; nor at the difficulties which others experienced in preserving their conquests, as was the case with Pyrrhus and many others, and which resulted not from the greater or lesser valor of the conqueror, but from the different nature of the conquered states.

CHAPTER V. HOW CITIES OR PRINCIPALITIES ARE TO BE GOVERNED THAT PREVIOUS TO BEING CONQUERED HAD LIVED UNDER THEIR OWN LAWS.

Conquered states that have been accustomed to liberty and the government of their own laws can be held by the conqueror in three different ways. The first is to ruin them; the second, for the conqueror to go and reside there in person; and the third is to allow them to continue to live under their own laws, subject to a regular tribute, and to create in them a government of a few, who will keep the country friendly to the conqueror. Such a government, having been established by the new prince, knows that it cannot maintain itself without the support of his power and friendship, and it becomes its interest therefore to sustain him. A city that has been accustomed to free institutions is much easier held by its own citizens than in any other way, if the conqueror desires to preserve it. The Spartans and the Romans will serve as examples of these different ways of holding a conquered state.

The Spartans held Athens and Thebes, creating there a government of a few; and yet they lost both these states again. The Romans, for the purpose of retaining Capua, Carthage, and Numantia, destroyed them, but did not lose them. They wished to preserve Greece in somewhat the same way that the Spartans had held it, by making her free and leaving her in the enjoyment of her own laws, but did not succeed; so that they were obliged to destroy many cities in that country for the purpose of holding it. In truth there was no other safe way of keeping possession of that country but to ruin it. And whoever becomes master of a city that has been accustomed to liberty, and does not destroy it, must himself expect to be ruined by it. For they will always resort to rebellion in the name of liberty and their ancient institutions, which will never be effaced from their memory, either by the lapse of time, or by benefits bestowed by the new master. No matter what he may do, or what precautions he may take, if he does not separate and disperse the inhabitants, they will on the first occasion invoke the name of liberty and the memory of their  ancient institutions, as was done by Pisa after having been held over a hundred years in subjection by the Florentines.

But it is very different with states that have been accustomed to live under a prince. When the line of the prince is once extinguished, the inhabitants, being on the one hand accustomed to obey, and on the other having lost their ancient sovereign, can neither agree to create a new one from amongst themselves, nor do they know how to live in liberty; and thus they will be less prompt to take up arms, and the new prince will readily be able to gain their good will and to assure himself of them. But republics have more vitality, a greater spirit of resentment and desire of revenge, for the memory of their ancient liberty neither can nor will permit them to remain quiet, and therefore the surest way of holding them is either to destroy them, or for the conqueror to go and live there.

CHAPTER VI. OF NEW PRINCIPALITIES THAT HAVE BEEN ACQUIRED BY THE VALOR OF THE PRINCE AND BY HIS OWN TROOPS.

Let no one wonder if, in what I am about to say of entirely new principalities and of the prince and his government, I cite the very highest examples. For as men almost always follow the beaten track of others, and proceed in their actions by imitation, and yet cannot altogether follow the ways of others, nor attain the high qualities of those whom they imitate, so a wise man should ever follow the ways of great men and endeavor to imitate only such as have been most eminent; so that even if his merits do not quite equal theirs, yet that they may in some measure reflect their greatness. He should do as the skilful archer, who, seeing that the object he desires to hit is too distant, and knowing the extent to which his bow will carry, aims higher than the destined mark, not for the purpose of sending his arrow to that height, but so that by this elevation it may reach the desired aim.

I say then that a new prince in an entirely new principality will experience more or less difficulty in maintaining himself, according as he has more or less courage and ability. And as  such an event as to become a prince from a mere private individual presupposes either great courage or rare good fortune, it would seem that one or the other of these two causes ought in a measure to mitigate many of these difficulties. But he who depends least upon fortune will maintain himself best; which will be still more easy for the Prince if, having no other state, he is obliged to reside in his newly acquired principality.

To come now to those who by their courage and ability, and not by fortune, have risen to the rank of rulers, I will say that the most eminent of such were Moses, Cyrus, Romulus, Theseus, and the like. And although we may not discuss Moses, who was a mere executor of the things ordained by God, yet he merits our admiration, if only for that grace which made him worthy to hold direct communion with the Almighty. But if we consider Cyrus and others who have conquered or founded empires, we shall find them all worthy of admiration; for it we study their acts and particular ordinances, they do not seem very different from those of Moses, although he had so great a teacher. We shall also find in examining their acts and lives, that they had no other favor from fortune but opportunity, which gave them the material which they could mould into whatever form seemed to them best; and without such opportunity the great qualities of their souls would have been wasted, whilst without those great qualities the opportunities would have been in vain.

It was necessary then for Moses to find the people of Israel slaves in Egypt, and oppressed by the Egyptians, so that to escape from that bondage they resolved to follow him. It was necessary that Romulus should not have been kept in Alba, and that he should have been exposed at his birth, for him to have become the founder and king of Rome. And so it was necessary for Cyrus to find the Persians dissatisfied with the rule of the Medes, and the Medes effeminate and enfeebled by long peace. And finally, Theseus could not have manifested his courage had he not found the Athenians dispersed. These opportunities therefore made these men fortunate, and it was their lofty virtue that enabled them to recognize the opportunities by which their countries were made illustrious and most happy. Those who by similar noble conduct become princes acquire their principalities with difficulty, but maintain them with ease; and the difficulties which they experience in acquiring  their principalities arise in part from the new ordinances and customs which they are obliged to introduce for the purpose of founding their state and their own security. We must bear in mind, then, that there is nothing more difficult and dangerous, or more doubtful of success, than an attempt to introduce a new order of things in any state. For the innovator has for enemies all those who derived advantages from the old order of things, whilst those who expect to be benefited by the new institutions will be but lukewarm defenders. This indifference arises in part from fear of their adversaries who were favored by the existing laws, and partly from the incredulity of men who have no faith in anything new that is not the result of well-established experience. Hence it is that, whenever the opponents of the new order of things have the opportunity to attack it, they will do it with the zeal of partisans, whilst the others defend it but feebly, so that it is dangerous to rely upon the latter.

If we desire to discuss this subject thoroughly, it will be necessary to examine whether such innovators depend upon themselves, or whether they rely upon others; that is to say, whether for the purpose of carrying out their plans they have to resort to entreaties, or whether they can accomplish it by force. In the first case they always succeed badly, and fail to conclude anything; but when they depend upon their own strength to carry their innovations through, then they rarely incur any danger. Thence it was that all prophets who came with arms in hand were successful, whilst those who were not armed were ruined. For besides the reasons given above, the dispositions of peoples are variable; it is easy to persuade them to anything, but difficult to confirm them in that belief. And therefore a prophet should be prepared, in case the people will not believe any more, to be able by force to compel them to that belief.

Neither Moses, Cyrus, Theseus, nor Romulus would have been able to make their laws and institutions observed for any length of time, if they had not been prepared to enforce them with arms. This was the experience of Brother Girolamo Savonarola, who failed in his attempt to establish a new order of things so soon as the multitude ceased to believe in him; for he had not the means to keep his believers firm in their faith, nor to make the unbelievers believe. And yet these  great men experienced great difficulties in their course, and met danger at every step, which could only be overcome by their courage and ability. But once having surmounted them, then they began to be held in veneration; and having crushed those who were jealous of their great qualities, they remained powerful, secure, honored, and happy.

To these great examples I will add a minor one, which nevertheless bears some relation to them, and will suffice me for all similar cases. This is Hiero of Syracuse, who from a mere private individual rose to be prince of Syracuse, although he owed no other favor to fortune than opportunity; for the Syracusans, being oppressed, elected him their captain, whence he advanced by his merits to become their prince. And even in his condition as a private citizen he displayed such virtue, that the author who wrote of him said that he lacked nothing of being a monarch excepting a kingdom. Hiero disbanded the old army and organized a new one; he abandoned his old allies and formed new alliances; and having thus an army and allies of his own creation, he had no difficulty in erecting any edifice upon such a foundation; so that although he had much trouble in attaining the principality, yet he had but little in maintaining it.

CHAPTER VII. OF NEW PRINCIPALITIES THAT HAVE BEEN ACQUIRED BY THE AID OF OTHERS AND BY GOOD FORTUNE.

Those who by good fortune only rise from mere private station to the dignity of princes have but little trouble in achieving that elevation, for they fly there as it were on wings; but their difficulties begin after they have been placed in that high position. Such are those who acquire a state either by means of money, or by the favor of some powerful monarch who bestows it upon them. Many such instances occurred in Greece, in the cities of Ionia and of the Hellespont, where men were made princes by Darius so that they might hold those places for his security and glory. And such were those  Emperors who from having been mere private individuals attained the Empire by corrupting the soldiery. These remain simply subject to the will and the fortune of those who bestowed greatness upon them, which are two most uncertain and variable things. And generally these men have neither the skill nor the power to maintain that high rank. They know not (for unless they are men of great genius and ability, it is not reasonable that they should know) how to command, having never occupied any but private stations; and they cannot, because they have no troops upon whose loyalty and attachment they can depend.

Moreover, states that spring up suddenly, like other things in nature that are born and attain their growth rapidly, cannot have those roots and supports that will protect them from destruction by the first unfavorable weather. Unless indeed, as has been said, those who have suddenly become princes are gifted with such ability that they quickly know how to prepare themselves for the preservation of that which fortune has cast into their lap, and afterwards to build up those foundations which others have laid before becoming princes.

In illustration of the one and the other of these two ways of becoming princes, by valor and ability, or by good fortune, I will adduce two examples from the time within our own memory; these are Francesco Sforza and Cesar Borgia. Francesco, by legitimate means and by great natural ability, rose from a private citizen to be Duke of Milan; and having attained that high position by a thousand efforts, it cost him but little trouble afterwards to maintain it. On the other hand, Cesar Borgia, commonly called Duke Valentino, acquired his state by the good fortune of his father, but lost it when no longer sustained by that good fortune; although he employed all the means and did all that a brave and prudent man can do to take root in that state which had been bestowed upon him by the arms and good fortune of another. For, as we have said above, he who does not lay the foundations for his power beforehand may be able by great ability and courage to do so afterwards; but it will be done with great trouble to the builder and with danger to the edifice.

If now we consider the whole course of the Duke Valentino, we shall see that he took pains to lay solid foundations for his future power; which I think it well to discuss. For I should  not know what better lesson I could give to a new prince, than to hold up to him the example of the Duke Valentino’s conduct. And if the measures which he adopted did not insure his final success, the fault was not his, for his failure was due to the extreme and extraordinary malignity of fortune. Pope Alexander VI. in his efforts to aggrandize his son, the Duke Valentino, encountered many difficulties, immediate and prospective. In the first place he saw that there was no chance of making him master of any state, unless a state of the Church; and he knew that neither the Duke of Milan nor the Venetians would consent to that. Faenza and Rimini were already at that time under the protection of the Venetians; and the armies of Italy, especially those of which he could have availed himself, were in the hands of men who had cause to fear the power of the Pope, namely the Orsini, the Colonna, and their adherents; and therefore he could not rely upon them.

It became necessary therefore for Alexander to disturb the existing order of things, and to disorganize those states, in order to make himself safely master of them. And this it was easy for him to do; for he found the Venetians, influenced by other reasons, favorable to the return of the French into Italy; which not only he did not oppose, but facilitated by dissolving the former marriage of King Louis XII. (so as to enable him to marry Ann of Brittany). The king thereupon entered Italy with the aid of the Venetians and the consent of Alexander; and no sooner was he in Milan than the Pope obtained troops from him to aid in the conquest of the Romagna, which was yielded to him through the influence of the king.

The Duke Valentino having thus acquired the Romagna, and the Colonna being discouraged, he both wished to hold that province, and also to push his possessions still further, but was prevented by two circumstances. The one was that his own troops seemed to him not to be reliable, and the other was the will of the king of France. That is to say, he feared lest the Orsini troops, which he had made use of, might fail him at the critical moment, and not only prevent him from acquiring more, but even take from him that which he had acquired; and that even the king of France might do the same. Of the disposition of the Orsini, the Duke had a proof when, after the capture of Faenza, he attacked Bologna, and saw with  what indifference they moved to the assault. And as to the king of France, he knew his mind; for when he wanted to march into Tuscany, after having taken the Duchy of Urbino, King Louis made him desist from that undertaking. The Duke resolved therefore to rely no longer upon the fortune or the arms of others. And the first thing he did was to weaken the Orsini and the Colonna in Rome, by winning over to himself all the gentlemen adherents of those houses, by taking them into his own pay as gentlemen followers, giving them liberal stipends and bestowing honors upon them in proportion to their condition, and giving them appointments and commands; so that in the course of a few months their attachment to their factions was extinguished, and they all became devoted followers of the Duke.

After that, having successfully dispersed the Colonna faction, he watched for an opportunity to crush the Orsini, which soon presented itself, and of which he made the most. For the Orsini, having been slow to perceive that the aggrandizement of the Duke and of the Church would prove the cause of their ruin, convened a meeting at Magione, in the Perugine territory, which gave rise to the revolt of Urbino and the disturbances in the Romagna, and caused infinite dangers to the Duke Valentino, all of which, however, he overcame with the aid of the French. Having thus re-established his reputation, and trusting no longer in the French or any other foreign power, he had recourse to deceit, so as to avoid putting them to the test. And so well did he know how to dissemble and conceal his intentions that the Orsini became reconciled to him, through the agency of the Signor Paolo, whom the Duke had won over to himself by means of all possible good offices, and gifts of money, clothing, and horses. And thus their credulity led them into the hands of the Duke at Sinigaglia.

The chiefs thus destroyed, and their adherents converted into his friends, the Duke had laid sufficiently good foundations for his power, having made himself master of the whole of the Romagna and the Duchy of Urbino, and having attached their entire population to himself, by giving them a foretaste of the new prosperity which they were to enjoy under him. And as this part of the Duke’s proceedings is well worthy of notice, and may serve as an example to others, I will dwell upon it more fully.

Having conquered the Romagna, the Duke found it under the control of a number of impotent petty tyrants, who had devoted themselves more to plundering their subjects than to governing them properly, and encouraging discord and disorder amongst them rather than peace and union; so that this province was infested by brigands, torn by quarrels, and given over to every sort of violence. He saw at once that, to restore order amongst the inhabitants and obedience to the sovereign, it was necessary to establish a good and vigorous government there. And for this purpose he appointed as governor of that province Don Ramiro d’Orco, a man of cruelty, but at the same time of great energy, to whom he gave plenary power. In a very short time D’Orco reduced the province to peace and order, thereby gaining for him the highest reputation. After a while the Duke found such excessive exercise of authority no longer necessary or expedient, for he feared that it might render himself odious. He therefore established a civil tribunal in the heart of the province, under an excellent president, where every city should have its own advocate. And having observed that the past rigor of Ramiro had engendered some hatred, he wished to show to the people, for the purpose of removing that feeling from their minds, and to win their entire confidence, that, if any cruelties had been practised, they had not originated with him, but had resulted altogether from the harsh nature of his minister. He therefore took occasion to have Messer Ramiro put to death, and his body, cut into two parts, exposed in the market-place of Cesena one morning, with a block of wood and a bloody cutlass left beside him. The horror of this spectacle caused the people to remain for a time stupefied and satisfied.

But let us return to where we started from. I say, then, that the Duke, feeling himself strong enough now, and in a measure secure from immediate danger, having raised an armed force of his own, and having in great part destroyed those that were near and might have troubled him, wanted now to proceed with his conquest. The only power remaining which he had to fear was the king of France, upon whose support he knew that he could not count, although the king had been late in discovering his error of having allowed the Duke’s aggrandizement. The Duke, therefore, began to look for new alliances, and to prevaricate with the French about their entering the kingdom of Naples for the purpose of attacking the Spaniards, who were then  engaged in the siege of Gaeta. His intention was to place them in such a position that they would not be able to harm him; and in this he would have succeeded easily if Pope Alexander had lived.

Such was the course of the Duke Valentino with regard to the immediate present, but he had cause for apprehensions as to the future; mainly, lest the new successor to the papal chair should not be friendly to him, and should attempt to take from him what had been given him by Alexander. And this he thought of preventing in several different ways: one, by extirpating the families of those whom he had despoiled, so as to deprive the Pope of all pretext of restoring them to their possessions; secondly, by gaining over to himself all the gentlemen of Rome, so as to be able, through them, to keep the Pope in check; thirdly, by getting the College of Cardinals under his control; and, fourthly, by acquiring so much power before the death of Alexander that he might by himself be able to resist the first attack of his enemies. Of these four things he had accomplished three at the time of Alexander’s death; for of the petty tyrants whom he had despoiled he had killed as many as he could lay hands on, and but very few had been able to save themselves; he had won over to himself the gentlemen of Rome, and had secured a large majority in the sacred college; and as to further acquisitions, he contemplated making himself master of Tuscany, having already possession of Perugia and Piombino, and having assumed a protectorate over Pisa. There being no longer occasion to be apprehensive of France, which had been deprived of the kingdom of Naples by the Spaniards, so that both of these powers had to seek his friendship, he suddenly seized Pisa. After this, Lucca and Sienna promptly yielded to him, partly from jealousy of the Florentines and partly from fear. Thus Florence saw no safety from the Duke, and if he had succeeded in taking that city, as he could have done in the very year of Alexander’s death, it would have so increased his power and influence that he would have been able to have sustained himself alone, without depending upon the fortune or power of any one else, and relying solely upon his own strength and courage.

But Alexander died five years after the Duke had first unsheathed his sword. He left his son with only his government of the Romagna firmly established, but all his other possessions entirely uncertain, hemmed in between two powerful hostile armies,  and himself sick unto death. But such were the Duke’s energy and courage, and so well did he know how men are either won or destroyed, and so solid were the foundations which he had in so brief a time laid for his greatness, that if he had not had these two armies upon his back, and had been in health, he would have sustained himself against all difficulties. And that the foundations of his power were well laid may be judged by the fact that the Romagna remained faithful, and waited quietly for him more than a month; and that, although half dead with sickness, yet he was perfectly secure in Rome; and that, although the Baglioni, Vitelli, and Orsini came to Rome at the time, yet they could not raise a party against him. Unable to make a Pope of his own choice, yet he could prevent the election of any one that was not acceptable to him. And had the Duke been in health at the time of Alexander’s death, everything would have gone well with him; for he said to me on the day when Julius II. was created Pope, that he had provided for everything that could possibly occur in case of his father’s death, except that he never thought that at that moment he should himself be so near dying.

Upon reviewing now all the actions of the Duke, I should not know where to blame him; it seems to me that I should rather hold him up as an example (as I have said) to be imitated by all those who have risen to sovereignty, either by the good fortune or the arms of others. For being endowed with great courage, and having a lofty ambition, he could not have acted otherwise under the circumstances; and the only thing that defeated his designs was the shortness of Alexander’s life and his own bodily infirmity.

Whoever, then, in a newly acquired state, finds it necessary to secure himself against his enemies, to gain friends, to conquer by force or by cunning, to make himself feared or beloved by the people, to be followed and revered by the soldiery, to destroy all who could or might injure him, to substitute a new for the old order of things, to be severe and yet gracious, magnanimous, and liberal, to disband a disloyal army and create a new one, to preserve the friendship of kings and princes, so that they may bestow benefits upon him with grace, and fear to injure him, — such a one, I say, cannot find more recent examples than those presented by the conduct of the Duke Valentino. The only thing we can blame him for was the election of Julius II. to the Pontificate,  which was a bad selection for him to make; for, as has been said, though he was not able to make a Pope to his own liking, yet he could have prevented, and should never have consented to, the election of one from amongst those cardinals whom he had offended, or who, if he had been elected, would have had occasion to fear him, for either fear or resentment makes men enemies.

Those whom the Duke had offended were, amongst others, the Cardinals San Pietro in Vincola, Colonna, San Giorgio, and Ascanio. All the others, had they come to the pontificate, would have had to fear him, excepting D’Amboise and the Spanish cardinals; the latter because of certain relations and reciprocal obligations, and the former because of his power, he having France for his ally. The Duke then should by all means have had one of the Spanish cardinals made Pope, and failing in that, he should have supported the election of the Cardinal d’Amboise, and not that of the Cardinal San Pietro in Vincola. For whoever thinks that amongst great personages recent benefits will cause old injuries to be forgotten, deceives himself greatly. The Duke, then, in consenting to the election of Julius II. committed an error which proved the cause of his ultimate ruin.

CHAPTER VIII. OF SUCH AS HAVE ACHIEVED SOVEREIGNTY BY MEANS OF CRIMES.

But as there are also two ways in which a person may rise from private station to sovereignty, and which can neither be attributed to fortune nor to valor, it seems to me they should not be left unnoticed; although one of these ways might be more fully discussed when we treat of republics. These two modes are, when one achieves sovereignty either by wicked and nefarious means, or when a private citizen becomes sovereign of his country by the favor of his fellow-citizens. I will explain the first by two examples, the one ancient and the other modern; and without entering otherwise into the merits of these cases, I judge they will suffice to any one who may find himself obliged to imitate them.

Agathocles, a Sicilian, rose to be king of Syracuse, not only from being a mere private citizen, but from the lowest and most abject condition. He was the son of a potter, and led a vicious life through all the various phases of his career. But his wickedness was coupled with so much moral and physical courage, that, having joined the army, he rose by successive steps until he became Prætor of Syracuse. Having attained that rank he resolved to make himself sovereign, and to retain by violence, and regardless of others, that which had been intrusted to him by public consent. For this purpose he came to an understanding with Hamilcar the Carthaginian, who was at that time carrying on war with his army in Sicily; and having one morning called an assembly of the people and the Senate of Syracuse, as though he wished to confer with them about public affairs, he made his soldiers, at a given signal, slay all the Senators and the richest of the people, and then seized the sovereignty of that city without any resistance on the part of the citizens. Although afterwards twice defeated by the Carthaginians, and finally besieged by them in Syracuse, he not only defended that city, but, leaving a portion of his forces to sustain the siege, he crossed the sea with the other part and attacked Africa, thus raising the siege of Syracuse in a short time, and driving the Carthaginians to the extremest necessity, compelling them to make terms with him, and to remain content with the possession of Africa, and leave Sicily to him.

Whoever now reflects upon the conduct and valor of Agathocles will find in them little or nothing that can be attributed to fortune; for, as I have said, he achieved sovereignty, not by the favor of any one, but through his high rank in the army, which he had won by a thousand efforts and dangers, and he afterwards maintained his sovereignty with great courage, and even temerity. And yet we cannot call it valor to massacre one’s fellow-citizens, to betray one’s friends, and to be devoid of good faith, mercy, and religion; such means may enable a man to achieve empire, but not glory. Still, if we consider the valor of Agathocles in encountering and overcoming dangers, and his invincible courage in supporting and mastering adversity, we shall find no reason why he should be regarded inferior to any of the most celebrated captains. But with all this, his outrageous cruelty and inhumanity, together with his infinite  crimes, will not permit him to be classed with the most celebrated men. We cannot therefore ascribe to either valor or fortune the achievements of Agathocles, which he accomplished without either the one or the other.

In our own times, during the pontificate of Alexander VI., Oliverotto da Fermo, having been left an orphan, was brought up by his maternal uncle, Giovanni Fogliani, and was in early youth placed in the military service under Paolo Vitelli; so that, after having been thoroughly trained and disciplined, he might attain prominent rank in the army. After the death of Paolo, he served under his brother Vitellozzo; and became in a very short time, by his intelligence, his bodily strength and intrepidity, one of the foremost men in his service. But deeming it servile to act under the command of others, he planned, together with some of the citizens of Fermo who preferred servitude to the liberty of their country, and with the concurrence of Vitellozzo, to seize Fermo and make himself lord of the same. With this object he wrote to his uncle, Giovanni Fogliani, that, having been absent from home for several years, he desired now to come to see him and his native city, and also to look up his patrimony; and that, having until then striven only to acquire honor, he desired to show his fellow-citizens that he had not labored in vain; and therefore he wished to come in splendid style, accompanied by one hundred cavaliers, friends of his. He begged his uncle, therefore, to be pleased to arrange that the inhabitants of Fermo should give him an honorable reception, which would be an honor not only to him, but also to Giovanni, who was his near relative and had brought him up. Giovanni therefore omitted no courtesies due to his nephew, and caused the citizens of Fermo to give him an honorable reception, as well as lodgings in their houses for himself and all his retinue. After spending some days in Fermo, and arranging all that was necessary for the execution of his villanous design, Oliverotto gave a sumptuous entertainment, to which he invited his uncle Giovanni and all the principal citizens of Fermo. After the dinner and the other entertainments that are customary on such occasions, Oliverotto artfully started a grave discussion respecting the greatness of Pope Alexander VI. and his son Cesar Borgia and their enterprises. When Giovanni and the others replied to his remarks, Oliverotto suddenly arose, saying that these things were only to be spoken of in private places, and  withdrew to another room, whither Giovanni and the other citizens followed. No sooner had they seated themselves there, than some of Oliverotto’s soldiers rushed out from concealment and massacred Giovanni and all the others.

After this murder Oliverotto mounted his horse, rode through the streets of Fermo, and besieged the supreme magistrates in the palace, who, constrained by fear, obeyed him, and formed a government of which Oliverotto made himself sovereign. And as all those who, as malcontents, might have injured him, had been put to death, Oliverotto fortified himself in his position with new institutions, both civil and military, so that for the space of a year, during which he held the sovereignty, he was not only secure in the city of Fermo, but had become formidable to all his neighbors; so that it would have been as difficult to overcome him as Agathocles, had he not allowed himself to be deceived by Cesar Borgia, when, as I have related, he entrapped the Orsini and the Vitelli at Sinigaglia, where Oliverotto was also taken and strangled, together with Vitellozzo, his master in valor and in villany, just one year after he had committed parricide in having his uncle Giovanni Fogliani assassinated.

Some may wonder how it was that Agathocles, and others like him, after their infinite treason and cruelty, could live for any length of time securely in the countries whose sovereignty they had usurped, and even defend themselves successfully against external enemies, without any attempts on the part of their own citizens to conspire against them; whilst many others could not by means of cruelty maintain their state even in time of peace, much less in doubtful times of war. I believe that this happened according as the cruelties were well or ill applied; we may call cruelty well applied (if indeed we may call that well which in itself is evil) when it is committed once from necessity for self-protection, and afterwards not persisted in, but converted as far as possible to the public good. Ill-applied cruelties are those which, though at first but few, yet increase with time rather than cease altogether. Those who adopt the first practice may, with the help of God and man, render some service to their state, as had been done by Agathocles; but those who adopt the latter course will not possibly be able to maintain themselves in their state. Whence it is to be noted that in taking possession of a state the conqueror should  well reflect as to the harsh measures that may be necessary, and then execute them at a single blow, so as not to be obliged to renew them every day; and by thus not repeating them, to assure himself of the support of the inhabitants, and win them over to himself by benefits bestowed. And he who acts otherwise, either from timidity or from being badly advised, will be obliged ever to be sword in hand, and will never be able to rely upon his subjects, who in turn will not be able to rely upon him, because of the constant fresh wrongs committed by him. Cruelties should be committed all at once, as in that way each separate one is less felt, and gives less offence; benefits, on the other hand, should be conferred one at a time, for in that way they will be more appreciated. But above all a prince should live upon such terms with his subjects that no accident, either for good or for evil, should make him vary his conduct towards them. For when adverse times bring upon you the necessity for action, you will no longer be in time to do evil; and the good you may do will not profit you, because it will be regarded as having been forced from you, and therefore will bring you no thanks.

CHAPTER IX. OF CIVIL PRINCIPALITIES.

But let us come now to that other case, when a prominent citizen has become prince of his country, not by treason and violence, but by the favor of his fellow-citizens. This may be called a civil principality; and to attain it requires neither great virtue nor extraordinary good fortune, but rather a happy shrewdness. I say, then, that such principalities are achieved either by the favor of the people or by that of the nobles; for in every state there will be found two different dispositions, which result from this, — that the people dislike being ruled and oppressed by the nobles, whilst the nobles seek to rule and oppress the people. And this diversity of feeling and interests engenders one of three effects in a state: these are either a principality, or a government of liberty, or license. A principality results either from the will of the people or from that of  the nobles, according as either the one or the other prevails and has the opportunity. For the nobles, seeing that they cannot resist the people, begin to have recourse to the influence and reputation of one of their own class, and make him a prince, so that under the shadow of his power they may give free scope to their desires. The people also, seeing that they cannot resist the nobles, have recourse to the influence and reputation of one man, and make him prince, so as to be protected by his authority. He who becomes prince by the aid of the nobles will have more difficulty in maintaining himself than he who arrives at that high station by the aid of the people. For the former finds himself surrounded by many who in their own opinion are equal to him, and for that reason he can neither command nor manage them in his own way. But he who attains the principality by favor of the people stands alone, and has around him none, or very few, that will not yield him a ready obedience. Moreover, you cannot satisfy the nobles with honesty, and without wrong to others, but it is easy to satisfy the people, whose aims are ever more honest than those of the nobles; the latter wishing to oppress, and the former being unwilling to be oppressed. I will say further, that a prince can never assure himself of a people who are hostile to him, for they are too numerous; the nobles on the other hand being but few, it becomes easy for a prince to make himself sure of them.

The worst that a prince may expect of a people who are unfriendly to him is that they will desert him; but the hostile nobles he has to fear, not only lest they abandon him, but also because they will turn against him. For they, being more farsighted and astute, always save themselves in advance, and seek to secure the favor of him whom they hope may be successful. The prince also is obliged always to live with the same people; but he can do very well without the same nobles, whom he can make and unmake at will any day, and bestow upon them or deprive them of their rank whenever it pleases him. The better to elucidate this subject, we must consider the nobles mainly in two ways; that is to say, they either shape their conduct so as to ally themselves entirely to your fortunes, or they do not. Those who attach themselves to you thus, if they are not rapacious, are to be honored and loved. Those who do not attach themselves to you must be regarded in two  ways. Either they are influenced by pusillanimity and a natural lack of courage, and then you may make use of them, and especially of such as are men of intelligence; for in prosperity they will honor you, and in adversity you need not fear them. But if they purposely avoid attaching themselves to you from notions of ambition, then it is an evidence that they think more of their own interests than of yours; and of such men a prince must beware, and look upon them as open enemies, for when adversity comes they will always turn against him and contribute to his ruin.

Any one, therefore, who has become a prince by the favor of the people, must endeavor to preserve their good will, which will be easy for him, as they will ask of him no more than that he shall not oppress them. But he who, contrary to the will of the people, has become prince by the favor of the nobles, should at once and before everything else strive to win the good will of the people, which will be easy for him, by taking them under his protection. And as men, when they receive benefits from one of whom they expected only ill treatment, will attach themselves readily to such a benefactor, so the people will become more kindly disposed to such a one than if he had been made prince by their favor. Now a prince can secure the good will of the people in various ways, which differ with their character, and for which no fixed rules can be given. I will merely conclude by saying that it is essential for a prince to possess the good will and affection of his people, otherwise he will be utterly without support in time of adversity. Nabis, prince of Sparta, sustained the attacks of all Greece, and of a victorious Roman army, and successfully defended his country and his state against them; and when danger came, it was enough for him to be assured of a few supporters, which would not have sufficed if the people had been hostile to him. And let no one contravene this opinion of mine by quoting the trite saying, that “he who relies upon the people builds upon quicksand”; though this may be true when a private citizen places his reliance upon the people in the belief that they will come to his relief when he is oppressed by his enemies or the magistrates. In such a case he will often find himself deceived; as happened in Rome to the Gracchi, and in Florence to Messer Scali. But it being a prince who places his reliance upon those whom he might command, and being a man of courage  and undismayed by adversity, and not having neglected to make proper preparations, and keeping all animated by his own courageous example and by his orders, he will not be deceived by the people; and it will be seen that the foundations of his state are laid solidly.

Those princes run great risks who attempt to change a civil government into an absolute one; for such princes command either in person or by means of magistrates. In the latter case, their state is more feeble and precarious; for the prince is in all things dependent upon the will of those citizens who are placed at the head of the magistracy, who, particularly in times of adversity, may with great ease deprive him of the government, either by open opposition or by refusing him obedience. For when danger is upon him, the prince is no longer in time to assume absolute authority; for the citizens and subjects who have been accustomed to receive their commands from the magistrates will not be disposed to yield obedience to the prince when in adversity. Thus in doubtful times there will ever be a lack of men whom he can trust. Such a prince cannot depend upon what he observes in ordinary quiet times, when the citizens have need of his authority; for then everybody runs at his bidding, everybody promises, and everybody is willing to die for him, when death is very remote. But in adverse times, when the government has need of the citizens, then but few will be found to stand by the prince. And this experience is the more dangerous as it can only be made once.

A wise prince, therefore, will steadily pursue such a course that the citizens of his state will always and under all circumstances feel the need of his authority, and will therefore always prove faithful to him.

CHAPTER X. IN WHAT MANNER THE POWER OF ALL PRINCIPALITIES SHOULD BE MEASURED.

In examining the nature of the different principalities, it is proper to consider another point; namely, whether a prince is sufficiently powerful to be able, in case of need, to sustain himself,  or whether he is obliged always to depend upon others for his defence. And to explain this point the better, I say that, in my judgment, those are able to maintain themselves who, from an abundance of men and money, can put a well-appointed army into the field, and meet any one in open battle that may attempt to attack them. And I esteem those as having need of the constant support of others who cannot meet their enemies in the field, but are under the necessity of taking refuge behind walls and keeping within them. Of the first case I have already treated, and shall speak of it again hereafter as occasion may require. Of the second case I cannot say otherwise than that it behooves such princes to fortify the cities where they have their seat of government, and to provide them well with all necessary supplies, without paying much attention to the country. For any prince that has thoroughly fortified the city in which he resides, and has in other respects placed himself on a good footing with his subjects, as has been explained above, will not be readily attacked. For men will ever be indisposed to engage in enterprises that present manifest difficulties; and it cannot be regarded as an easy undertaking to attack a prince in a city which he has thoroughly fortified, and who is not hated by his people.

The cities of Germany enjoy great liberties; they own little land outside of the walls, and obey the Emperor at their pleasure, fearing neither him nor any other neighboring power; for they are so well fortified that their capture would manifestly be tedious and difficult. They all have suitable walls and ditches, and are amply supplied with artillery, and always keep in their public magazines a year’s supply of provisions, drink, and fuel. Moreover, by way of feeding the people without expense to the public, they always keep on hand a common stock of raw materials to last for one year, so as to give employment in those branches of industry by which the people are accustomed to gain their living, and which are the nerve and life of the city. They also attach much importance to military exercises, and have established many regulations for their proper practice.

A prince, then, who has a well-fortified city, and has not made himself odious to his people, cannot be readily attacked; and if any one be nevertheless rash enough to make the attempt, he would have to abandon it ignominiously, for the  things of this world are so uncertain that it seems almost impossible that any one should be able to remain a whole year with his army inactive, carrying on the siege.

And if any one were to argue that, if the people who have possessions outside of the city were to see them ravaged and destroyed by the enemy, they would lose their patience, and that their selfish desire to protect their property would cause them to forget their attachment to the prince, I would meet this objection by saying, that a powerful and valiant prince will easily overcome this difficulty by encouraging his subjects with the hope that the evil will not endure long, or by alarming them with fears of the enemy’s cruelty, or by assuring himself adroitly of those who have been too forward in expressing their discontent.

It is, moreover, reasonable to suppose that the enemy will ravage and destroy the country immediately upon his arrival before the city, and whilst its inhabitants are still full of courage and eager for defence. The prince, therefore, has the less ground for apprehension, because, by the time that the ardor of his people has cooled somewhat, the damage has already been done, and the evil is past remedy. And then the people will be the more ready to stand by their prince, for they will regard him as under obligations to them, their houses having been burnt and their property ravaged in his defence. For it is the nature of mankind to become as much attached to others by the benefits which they bestow on them, as by those which they receive.

All things considered, then, it will not be difficult for a prudent prince to keep up the courage of his citizens in time of siege, both in the beginning as well as afterwards, provided there be no lack of provisions or means of defence.

CHAPTER XI. OF ECCLESIASTICAL PRINCIPALITIES.

It remains now only to speak of ecclesiastical principalities, in the attainment of which all difficulties occur beforehand. To achieve them requires either virtue or good fortune; but they  are maintained without either the one or the other, for they are sustained by the ancient ordinances of religion, which are so powerful and of such quality that they maintain their princes in their position, no matter what their conduct or mode of life may be. These are the only princes that have states without the necessity of defending them, and subjects without governing them; and their states, though undefended, are not taken from them, whilst their subjects are indifferent to the fact that they are not governed, and have no thought of the possibility of alienating themselves from their princes.

These ecclesiastical principalities, then, are the only ones that are secure and happy; and being under the direction of that supreme wisdom to which human minds cannot attain, I will abstain from all further discussion of them; for they are raised up and sustained by the Divine Power, and it would be a bold and presumptuous office for any man to discuss them.

Nevertheless, if any one asks how it comes that the Church has acquired such power and greatness in temporal matters, whilst previous to Alexander VI. all the Italian potentates, and even the great barons and the smallest nobles, paid so little regard to the temporal power of the Church, whilst now a king of France trembles before it, and this power has been able to drive him out of Italy and to ruin the Venetians, I shall not deem it superfluous to recall to memory the circumstances of the growth of this temporal power, although they are well known.

Before King Charles VIII. of France came into Italy, that country was under the rule of the Pope, the Venetians, the king of Naples, the Duke of Milan, and the Florentines. These powers were obliged always to keep in view two important points: the one, not to permit any foreign power to come into Italy with an armed force; and the other, to prevent each other from further aggrandizement.

Those who had to be most closely watched by the others were the Pope and the Venetians. To restrain the latter required the united power of all the others, as was the case in the defence of Ferrara; and to keep the Pope in check they availed themselves of the barons of Rome, who were divided into two factions, the Orsini and the Colonna; there being constant cause of quarrel between them, they were always with arms in hand, under the very eyes of the Pope, which kept the papal power weak and infirm.

And although now and then a courageous Pope arose, who succeeded for a time in repressing these factions, as for instance Sixtus IV., yet neither wisdom nor good fortune could ever relieve them entirely from this annoyance. The cause of this difficulty was the shortness of their lives; for in the ten years which is about the average length of the life of a Pope, it would be difficult for him to crush out either one of these factions entirely. And if, for instance, one Pope should have succeeded in putting down the Colonna, another one, hostile to the Orsini, would arise and resuscitate the Colonna, but would not have the time to put down the Orsini. This was the reason why the temporal power of the Popes was so little respected in Italy.

Afterwards Alexander VI. came to the Pontificate, who, more than any of his predecessors, showed what a Pope could accomplish with the money and power of the Church. Availing himself of the opportunity of the French invasion of Italy, and the instrumentality of the Duke Valentino, Alexander accomplished all those things which I have mentioned when speaking of the actions of the Duke. And although Alexander’s object was not the aggrandizement of the Church, but rather that of his son, the Duke, yet all his efforts served to advance the interests of the Church, which, after his death and that of his son, fell heir to all the results of his labors.

Soon after came Julius II., who found the Church powerful, and mistress of the entire Romagna, with the Roman barons crushed and the factions destroyed by the vigorous blows of Alexander. He also found the way prepared for the accumulation of money, which had never been employed before the time of Alexander. Julius II. not only continued the system of Alexander, but carried it even further, and resolved to acquire the possession of Bologna, to ruin the Venetians, and to drive the French out of Italy, in all of which he succeeded. And this was the more praiseworthy in him, inasmuch as he did all these things, not for his own aggrandizement, but for that of the Church. He furthermore restrained the Orsini and the Colonna factions within the limits in which he found them upon his accession to the Pontificate; and although there were some attempts at disturbances between them, yet there were two things that kept them down: one, the power of the Church, which overawed them; and the other, the fact that neither of them had any cardinals, who were generally the fomenters  of the disturbances between them. Nor will these party feuds ever cease so long as the cardinals take any part in them. For it is they who stir up the factions in Rome as well as elsewhere, and then force the barons to sustain them. And it is thus that the ambition of these prelates gives rise to the discord and the disturbances amongst the barons.

His Holiness Pope Leo X. thus found the Church all-powerful on his accession; and it is to be hoped that, if his predecessors have made the Church great by means of arms, he will make her still greater and more venerable by his goodness and his infinite other virtues.

CHAPTER XII. OF THE DIFFERENT KINDS OF TROOPS, AND OF MERCENARIES.

Having discussed in detail the characteristics of all those kinds of principalities of which I proposed at the outset to treat, and having examined to some extent the causes of their success or failure, and explained the means by which many have sought to acquire and maintain them, it remains for me now to discuss generally the means of offence and defence which such princes may have to employ, under the various circumstances above referred to.

We have said how necessary it is for a prince to lay solid foundations for his power, as without such he would inevitably be ruined. The main foundations which all states must have, whether new, or old, or mixed, are good laws and good armies. And as there can be no good laws where there are not good armies, so the laws will be apt to be good where the armies are so. I will therefore leave the question of the laws, and confine myself to that of the armies. I say, then, that the armies with which a prince defends his state are either his own, or they are mercenaries or auxiliaries, or they are mixed. Mercenary and auxiliary troops are both useless and dangerous; and if any one attempts to found his state upon mercenaries, it will never be stable or secure; for they are disunited, ambitious, and without discipline, — faithless, and braggarts amongst friends, but amongst enemies cowards, and have neither fear of God nor  good faith with men; so that the ruin of the prince who depends on them will be deferred only just so long as attack is delayed; and in peace he will be spoliated by his mercenaries, and in war by his enemies. The reason of all this is, that mercenary troops are not influenced by affection, or by any other consideration except their small stipend, which is not enough to make them willing to die for you. They are ready to serve you as soldiers so long as you are at peace; but when war comes, they will either run away or march off. There is no difficulty in demonstrating the truth of this; for the present ruin of Italy can be attributed to nothing else but to the fact that she has for many years depended upon mercenary armies, who for a time had some success, and seemed brave enough amongst themselves, but so soon as a foreign enemy came they showed what stuff they were made of. This was the reason why Charles VIII., king of France, was allowed to take Italy with scarcely an effort, and as it were with merely a piece of chalk.* Those who assert that our misfortunes were caused by our own faults speak the truth; but these faults were not such as are generally supposed to have been the cause, but those rather which I have pointed out; and as it was the princes who committed these faults, so they also suffered the penalties.

I will demonstrate more fully the unhappy consequences of employing mercenary armies. Their commanders are either competent, or they are not; if they are, then you cannot trust them, because their chief aim will always be their own aggrandizement, either by imposing upon you, who are their employer, or by oppressing others beyond your intentions; and if they are incompetent, then they will certainly hasten your ruin. If now you meet these remarks by saying that the same will be the case with every commander, whether of mercenary troops or others, I reply, that, inasmuch as armies are employed either by princes or by republics, the prince should always in person perform the duty of commanding his army, and a republic should send one of her own citizens to command her troops, and in case he should not be successful, then they  must change him; but if he is victorious, then they must be careful to keep him within the law, so that he may not exceed his powers. Experience has shown that princes as well as republics achieve the greatest success in war when they themselves direct the movements of their own armies, whilst mercenary troops do nothing but damage; and that a republic that has armies of her own is much less easily subjected to servitude by one of her own citizens, than one that depends upon foreign troops.

Thus Rome and Sparta maintained their liberties for many centuries by having armies of their own; the Swiss are most thoroughly armed, and consequently enjoy the greatest independence and liberty. The Carthaginians, on the other hand, furnish an example of the danger of employing mercenaries, for they came very near being subjugated by them at the close of the first war with Rome, although they had appointed some of their own citizens as commanders. After the death of Epaminondas, the Thebans made Philip of Macedon commander of their army, who after having been victorious deprived the Thebans of their liberty. The Milanese, after the death of Duke Philip, employed Francesco Sforza against the Venetians; after having defeated them at Caravaggio, he combined with them to subjugate his employers, the Milanese. The father of Francesco Sforza, who was commander in the service of Queen Joanna of Naples, suddenly left her entirely without troops, in consequence of which she was compelled to throw herself upon the protection of the king of Aragon, to save her kingdom. And if the Venetians and the Florentines formerly extended their dominions by means of mercenaries, and without their commanders attempting to make themselves princes of the country, but rather defending it loyally, I can only say that the Florentines were greatly favored by fortune in that respect. For of the valiant captains whose ambition they might have feared, some were not victorious, some never met an enemy, and others directed their ambition elsewhere. Amongst those who were not victorious was Giovanni Aguto,* whose good faith was never put to the test, he having been unsuccessful in the field; although it will be generally admitted that, had he been successful, the Florentines would have been at his mercy. The Sforzas and the Bracceschi were always opposed to each other, which caused Francesco to direct his ambition towards  Lombardy, whilst Braccio turned his towards the Church and the kingdom of Naples.

But let us come now to occurrences of more recent date. The Florentines had conferred the command of their troops upon Paolo Vitelli, a soldier of the greatest ability, who had risen from private station to the highest post and reputation. No one will deny that, if he had succeeded in taking Pisa, the Florentines would have been obliged to submit to him; for had he gone over to the enemy, they would have been helpless, and if they kept him they would have been obliged to submit to his terms.

If now we look at the Venetians, we shall find that they carried on their wars securely and gloriously so long as they confined themselves to their proper element, the water, where they conducted their operations most bravely with their nobles and their own people. But when they engaged in wars on land, they no longer acted with their customary bravery, and adopted the habit of the other Italian states of employing mercenary troops. And although at the beginning of the growth of their dominion on land they had no occasion to have any serious apprehensions of their commanders, because their own reputation was great and their possessions on land small, yet when they extended these, which was under the captaincy of Carmignuola, they became sensible of their error. For although they were aware that it was by his superior conduct that they had defeated the Duke of Milan, yet on observing his lukewarmness in the further conduct of the war, they concluded that they could no longer hope for victory under his command. Still they dared not dismiss him for fear of losing what they had gained, and therefore they deemed it necessary for their own security to put him to death.

After that, the Venetians employed as generals of their forces Bartolommeo da Bergamo, Ruberto da San Severino, the Count Pittigliano, and the like, with whom they had reason rather to apprehend losses than to expect successes; as indeed happened afterwards at Vaila, where in one battle they lost what had taken them eight hundred years of great labor to acquire; for with this kind of troops acquisitions are feeble and slow, whilst losses are quick and extraordinary.

Having thus far confined my examples to Italy, which has been for many years controlled by mercenary armies, I will  now go back to an earlier period in discussing this subject; so that, having seen the origin and progress of the system, it may be the more effectually corrected. You must know, then, that in the earlier times, so soon as the Roman Empire began to lose its power and credit in Italy, and when the Pope acquired more influence in temporal matters, Italy became subdivided into a number of states. Many of the large cities took up arms against their nobles, who, encouraged by the Emperor, had kept them oppressed. The Church, by way of increasing her own influence in temporal matters, favored this revolt of the cities against their nobles. In many other cities the supreme power was usurped by some of their own citizens, who made themselves princes of the same. Thus it was that Italy, as it were, passed under the dominion of the Church and certain republics. And as these citizens and prelates were not accustomed to the management of armies, they began to hire foreigners for this purpose. The first who brought this sort of military into high repute was Alberigo da Como, a native of the Romagna. It was under his discipline that Braccio and Sforza were trained, and these in turn became the arbiters of Italy. They were succeeded by all those others who up to our time have led the armies of Italy; and the result of all their valor was that she was overrun by the French under Charles VIII., ravaged and plundered by Louis XII., oppressed by Ferdinand of Spain, and insulted and vituperated by the Swiss.

The course which these mercenary leaders pursued for the purpose of giving reputation and credit to their own mounted forces was, first, to decry and destroy the reputation of the infantry of the several states. They did this because, having no territorial possessions of their own, and being mere soldiers of fortune, they could achieve no reputation by means of a small body of infantry, and for a larger force they could not furnish subsistence. And therefore they confined themselves to cavalry, a smaller force of which enabled them the more readily to gain success and credit, and was at the same time more easily subsisted. In this way they brought matters to that point, that in an army of twenty thousand there were not over two thousand infantry.

Moreover, they used all means and ingenuity to avoid exposing themselves and their men to great fatigue and danger, and  never killing each other in their encounters, but merely taking prisoners, who were afterwards liberated without ransom. They never make any night attacks when besieging a place, nor did the besieged make any night sorties; they never properly intrenched their camps, and never kept the field in winter. All these practices were permitted by their rules of war, which were devised by them expressly, as we have said, to avoid hardships and danger; so that Italy was brought to shame and slavery by this system of employing mercenary troops.

CHAPTER XIII. OF AUXILIARIES, AND OF MIXED AND NATIONAL TROOPS.

Auxiliary troops, which are the other kind which I have characterized in the preceding chapter as useless, are such as are furnished by a powerful ally whom a prince calls upon to come with his troops to aid and defend him; as was done quite lately by Pope Julius II., who, having had sad proof of the inefficiency of mercenaries in his attempt upon Ferrara, resorted to auxiliaries, and arranged with Ferdinand of Spain to send his armies to his assistance.

Troops of this kind may be useful and good in themselves, but they are always dangerous for him who calls them to his aid; for if defeated, he remains undone, and if victorious, then he is in their power like a prisoner. And although I could adduce numerous examples of this from ancient history, yet I will here cite that of Pope Julius II., which is still fresh in our minds, and whose conduct in that respect could not well have been more imprudent than what it was. For, wishing to take Ferrara, he placed himself entirely in the hands of a foreigner. Fortunately for him, however, an incident occurred which saved him from the full effect of his bad selection; for his auxiliaries having been defeated at Ravenna, the Swiss suddenly appeared on the field and put the victors to ignominious flight. And thus Julius II. escaped becoming prisoner either to his enemies who had fled, or to his auxiliaries; for the enemy’s defeat was not due to their assistance, but to that of others.

The Florentines, having no army of their own, and wishing to get possession of Pisa, employed for that purpose ten thousand French troops, and were involved in greater danger by them than they had ever experienced from any other difficulty. The Emperor of Constantinople, by way of resisting the attacks of his neighbors, put ten thousand troops into Greece, who at the termination of the war refused to leave the country again; and this was the beginning of the subjection of Greece to the infidels.

Whoever, then, desires not to be victorious, let him employ auxiliary troops, for they are much more dangerous even than mercenaries. For your ruin is certain with auxiliaries, who are all united in their obedience to another; whilst mercenaries, even after victory, need more time and greater opportunity to injure you, for they are not one homogeneous body, and have been selected by yourself and are in your pay, and their commander being appointed by you, he cannot so quickly gain sufficient influence over these troops to enable him to injure you. In short, with mercenaries the danger lies in their cowardice and bad faith; whilst with auxiliaries their valor constitutes the danger.

A wise prince, therefore, should ever avoid employing either one of them, and should rely exclusively upon his own troops, and should prefer defeat with them rather than victory with the troops of others, with whom no real victory can ever be won. In proof of this, I shall not hesitate again to cite the conduct of Cesar Borgia. This Duke entered the Romagna with auxiliaries, taking there only French troops, with whom he took Imola and Furli. But thinking afterwards that these troops were not reliable, he had recourse to mercenaries, whom he deemed less dangerous, and engaged the Orsini and the Vitelli. These, however, proved themselves by their conduct to be uncertain, faithless, and dangerous; and therefore the Duke destroyed them, and then relied upon his own troops exclusively. The difference between the one and the other of these troops is easily seen when we look at the reputation of the Duke Valentino at the time when he employed the Orsini and the Vitelli, and when he had none but his own troops; for then his credit increased steadily, and the Duke was never more highly esteemed than when every one saw that he was thoroughly master of his armies.

I did not intend to depart from Italian and recent instances, and yet I cannot leave unnoticed the case of Hiero of Syracuse, being one of those to whom I have referred before. Having been made general of the Syracusan army, as before stated, he quickly perceived that mercenary troops were not useful, their commanders being appointed in a similar manner as our Italian Condottieri. And as it seemed to Hiero that he could neither keep nor dismiss them with safety, he had them all put to death and cut to pieces, and thenceforth carried on the war exclusively with troops of his own.

I will also recall to memory an illustration from the Old Testament applicable to this subject. David having offered to go and fight the Philistine bully, Goliath, Saul, by way of encouraging David, gave him his own arms and armor, which David however declined, after having tried them, saying that he could not make the most of his strength if he used those arms; and therefore he preferred to meet the enemy with no other arms but his sling and his knife. In short, the armor of another never suits you entirely; it is either too large and falls off your back, or weighs you down, or it is too tight.

Charles VII., father of Louis XI., king of France, having by his valor and good fortune delivered France from the English, recognized the necessity of depending solely upon his own armies, and organized in his kingdom regular companies of artillery, cavalry, and infantry. His son, Louis XI., afterwards disbanded the infantry, and began to hire Swiss soldiers in their stead. This error, being followed by others, is now seen to have been the cause of the dangers to which that kingdom was exposed; for by giving prominence to the Swiss, Louis depreciated his own troops, and having disbanded his own infantry entirely, and accustomed his mounted forces to the support of the Swiss, they felt that they could have no success without them. Thence it came that the French could not hold their own against the Swiss, and without their support they could not stand against others. And thus the French armies have remained mixed, that is to say, partly their own troops and partly mercenaries; which, although better than either auxiliaries or mercenaries alone, yet makes them much worse than if they were composed exclusively of their own troops. Let this example suffice; for the kingdom of France would have been invincible if the military system established by  Charles VII. had been persevered in and extended. But the short-sightedness of men leads them to adopt any measure that for the moment seems good, and which does not openly reveal the poison concealed under it, as I have said above of hectic fevers.

A prince, then, who does not promptly recognize evils as they arise, cannot be called wise; but unfortunately this faculty is given to but few. And if we reflect upon the beginning of the ruin of the Roman Empire, it will be found to have resulted solely from hiring the Goths for its armies; for that was the first cause of the enervation of the forces of the Empire; and the valor of which the Romans divested themselves was thus transferred to the Goths.

I conclude, then, that no prince can ever be secure that has not an army of his own; and he will become wholly dependent upon fortune if in times of adversity he lacks the valor to defend himself. And wise men have ever held the opinion, that nothing is more weak and unstable than the reputation of power when not founded upon forces of the prince’s own; by which I mean armies composed of his own subjects or citizens, or of his own creation; — all others are either mercenaries or auxiliaries.

The means for organizing such armies of his own will readily be found by the prince by studying the method in which Philip of Macedon, father of Alexander the Great, and many republics and princes, organized their armies, to which I refer in all respects.

CHAPTER XIV. OF THE DUTIES OF A PRINCE IN RELATION TO MILITARY MATTERS.

A prince, then, should have no other thought or object so much at heart, and make no other thing so much his especial study, as the art of war and the organization and discipline of his army; for that is the only art that is expected of him who commands. And such is its power, that it not only maintains in their position those who were born princes, but it often enables men born in private station to achieve the rank of princes. And on the other hand, we have seen that princes  who thought more of indulgence in pleasure than of arms have thereby lost their states.

Thus the neglect of the art of war is the principal cause of the loss of your state, whilst a proficiency in it often enables you to acquire one. Francesco Sforza, from being skilled in arms, rose from private station to be Duke of Milan; and his descendants, by shunning the labors and fatigue of arms, relapsed into the condition of private citizens.

Amongst the other causes of evil that will befall a prince who is destitute of a proper military force is, that it will make him contemned; which is one of those disgraces against which a prince ought especially to guard, as we shall demonstrate further on. For there is no sort of proportion between one who is well armed and one who is not so; nor is it reasonable that he who is armed should voluntarily obey the unarmed, or that a prince who is without a military force should remain secure amongst his armed subjects. For when there is disdain on the one side and mistrust on the other, it is impossible that the two should work well together. A prince, then, who is not master of the art of war, besides other misfortunes, cannot be respected by his soldiers, nor can he depend upon them. And therefore should the practice of arms ever be uppermost in the prince’s thoughts; he should study it in time of peace as much as in actual war, which he can do in two ways, the one by practical exercise, and the other by scientific study. As regards the former, he must not only keep his troops well disciplined and exercised, but he must also frequently follow the chase, whereby his body will become inured to hardships, and he will become familiar with the character of the country, and learn where the mountains rise and the valleys debouch, and how the plains lie; he will learn to know the nature of rivers and of the swamps, to all of which he should give the greatest attention. For this knowledge is valuable in many ways to the prince, who thereby learns to know his own country, and can therefore better understand its defence. Again, by the knowledge of and practical acquaintance with one country, he will with greater facility comprehend the character of others, which it may be necessary for him to understand. For instance, the mountains, valleys, plains, rivers, and swamps of Tuscany bear a certain resemblance to those of other provinces; so that by the knowledge of the character and formation  of one country he will readily arrive at that of others. A prince who is wanting in that experience lacks the very first essentials which a commander should possess; for that knowledge teaches him where to find the enemy, to select proper places for intrenchments, to conduct armies, regulate marches, and order battles, and to keep the field with advantage.

Amongst other praises that have been accorded by different writers to Philopœmen, prince of the Achaians, was, that in time of peace he devoted himself constantly to the study of the art of war; and when he walked in the country with friends, he often stopped and argued with them thus: “Suppose the enemy were on yonder mountain, and we should happen to be here with our army, which of the two would have the advantage? How could we go most safely to find the enemy, observing proper order? If we should wish to retreat, how should we proceed? and if the enemy were to retreat, which way had we best pursue him?” And thus in walking he proposed to his friends all the cases that possibly could occur with an army, hearing their opinions, and giving his own, and corroborating them with reasons; so that by these continued discussions no case could ever arise in the conduct of an army for which he had not thought of the proper remedy. As regards the exercise of the mind, the prince should read history, and therein study the actions of eminent men, observe how they bore themselves in war, and examine the causes of their victories and defeats, so that he may imitate the former and avoid the latter. But above all should he follow the example of whatever distinguished man he may have chosen for his model; assuming that some one has been specially praised and held up to him as glorious, whose actions and exploits he should ever bear in mind. Thus it is told of Alexander that he imitated Achilles, and of Cæsar that he had taken Alexander for his model, as Scipio had done with Cyrus. And whoever reads the life of Cyrus, written by Xenophon, will not fail to recognize afterwards, in the life of Scipio, of how much value this imitation was to him, and how closely the latter conformed in point of temperance, affability, humanity, and liberality to the accounts given of Cyrus by Xenophon.

A wise prince then should act in like manner, and should never be idle in times of peace, but should industriously lay  up stores of which to avail himself in times of adversity; so that, when Fortune abandons him, he may be prepared to resist her blows.

CHAPTER XV. OF THE MEANS BY WHICH MEN, AND ESPECIALLY PRINCES, WIN APPLAUSE, OR INCUR CENSURE.

It remains now to be seen in what manner a prince should conduct himself towards his subjects and his allies; and knowing that this matter has already been treated by many others, I apprehend that my writing upon it also may be deemed presumptuous, especially as in the discussion of the same I shall differ from the rules laid down by others. But as my aim is to write something that may be useful to him for whom it is intended, it seems to me proper to pursue the real truth of the matter, rather than to indulge in mere speculation on the same; for many have imagined republics and principalities such as have never been known to exist in reality. For the manner in which men live is so different from the way in which they ought to live, that he who leaves the common course for that which he ought to follow will find that it leads him to ruin rather than to safety. For a man who, in all respects, will carry out only his professions of good, will be apt to be ruined amongst so many who are evil. A prince therefore who desires to maintain himself must learn to be not always good, but to be so or not as necessity may require. Leaving aside then the imaginary things concerning princes, and confining ourselves only to the realities, I say that all men when they are spoken of, and more especially princes, from being in a more conspicuous position, are noted for some quality that brings them either praise or censure. Thus one is deemed liberal, another miserly (misero) to use a Tuscan expression (for avaricious is he who by rapine desires to gain, and miserly we call him who abstains too much from the enjoyment of his own). One man is esteemed generous, another rapacious; one cruel, another merciful; one faithless, and another faithful; one effeminate and pusillanimous, another ferocious and brave; one affable, another haughty; one lascivious, another chaste; one sincere,  the other cunning; one facile, another inflexible; one grave, another frivolous; one religious, another sceptical; and so on.

I am well aware that it would be most praiseworthy for a prince to possess all of the above-named qualities that are esteemed good; but as he cannot have them all, nor entirely observe them, because of his human nature which does not permit it, he should at least be prudent enough to know how to avoid the infamy of those vices that would rob him of his state; and if possible also to guard against such as are likely to endanger it. But if that be not possible, then he may with less hesitation follow his natural inclinations. Nor need he care about incurring censure for such vices, without which the preservation of his state may be difficult. For, all things considered, it will be found that some things that seem like virtue will lead you to ruin if you follow them; whilst others, that apparently are vices, will, if followed, result in your safety and well-being.

CHAPTER XVI. OF LIBERALITY AND PARSIMONIOUSNESS.

To begin with the first of the above-named qualities, I say that it is well for a prince to be deemed liberal; and yet liberality, indulged in so that you will no longer be feared, will prove injurious. For liberality worthily exercised, as it should be, will not be recognized, and may bring upon you the reproach of the very opposite. For if you desire the reputation of being liberal, you must not stop at any degree of sumptuousness; so that a prince will in this way generally consume his entire substance, and may in the end, if he wishes to keep up his reputation for liberality, be obliged to subject his people to extraordinary burdens, and resort to taxation, and employ all sorts of measures that will enable him to procure money. This will soon make him odious with his people; and when he becomes poor, he will be contemned by everybody; so that having by his prodigality injured many and benefited few, he will be the first to suffer every inconvenience, and be exposed to every danger. And when he becomes conscious of  this and attempts to retrench, he will at once expose himself to the imputation of being a miser.

A prince then, being unable without injury to himself to practise the virtue of liberality in such manner that it may be generally recognized, should not, when he becomes aware of this and is prudent, mind incurring the charge of parsimoniousness. For after a while, when it is seen that by his prudence and economy he makes his revenues suffice him, and that he is able to provide for his defence in case of war, and engage in enterprises without burdening his people, he will be considered liberal enough by all those from whom he takes nothing, and these are the many; whilst only those to whom he does not give, and which are the few, will look upon him as parsimonious.

In our own times we have not seen any great things accomplished except by those who were regarded as parsimonious; all others have been ruined. Pope Julius II., having been helped by his reputation of liberality to attain the Pontificate, did not afterwards care to keep up that reputation to enable him to engage in war against the king of France; and he carried on ever so many wars without levying any extraordinary taxes. For his long-continued economy enabled him to supply the extraordinary expenses of his wars.

If the present king of Spain had sought the reputation of being liberal, he would not have been able to engage in so many enterprises, nor could he have carried them to a successful issue. A prince, then, who would avoid robbing his own subjects, and be able to defend himself, and who would avoid becoming poor and abject or rapacious, should not mind incurring the reputation of being parsimonious; for that is one of those vices that will enable him to maintain his state. And should it be alleged that Julius Cæsar attained the Empire by means of his liberality, and that many others by the same reputation have achieved the highest rank, then I reply, that you are either already a prince, or are in the way of becoming one; in the first case liberality would be injurious to you, but in the second it certainly is necessary to be reputed liberal. Now Cæsar was aiming to attain the Empire of Rome; but having achieved it, had he lived and not moderated his expenditures, he would assuredly have ruined the Empire by his prodigality.

And were any one to assert that there have been many princes  who have achieved great things with their armies, and who were accounted most liberal, I answer that a prince either spends his own substance and that of his subjects, or that of others. Of the first two he should be very sparing, but in spending that of others he ought not to omit any act of liberality. The prince who in person leads his armies into foreign countries, and supports them by plunder, pillage, and exactions, and thus dispenses the substance of others, should do so with the greatest liberality, as otherwise his soldiers would not follow him. For that which belongs neither to him nor to his own subjects, a prince may spend most lavishly, as was done by Cyrus, Cæsar, and Alexander. The spending of other people’s substance will not diminish, but rather increase, his reputation; it is only the spending of his own that is injurious to a prince.

And there is nothing that consumes itself so quickly as liberality; for the very act of using it causes it to lose the faculty of being used, and will either impoverish and make you contemned, or it will make you rapacious and odious. And of all the things against which a prince should guard most carefully is the incurring the hatred and contempt of his subjects. Now, liberality will bring upon you either the one or the other; there is therefore more wisdom in submitting to be called parsimonious, which may bring you blame without hatred, than, by aiming to be called liberal, to incur unavoidably the reputation of rapacity, which will bring upon you infamy as well as hatred.

CHAPTER XVII. OF CRUELTY AND CLEMENCY, AND WHETHER IT IS BETTER TO BE LOVED THAN FEARED.

Coming down now to the other aforementioned qualities, I say that every prince ought to desire the reputation of being merciful, and not cruel; at the same time, he should be careful not to misuse that mercy. Cesar Borgia was reputed cruel, yet by his cruelty he reunited the Romagna to his states, and restored that province to order, peace, and loyalty; and if we carefully examine his course, we shall find it to have been really much more merciful than the course of the people of Florence,  who, to escape the reputation of cruelty, allowed Pistoja to be destroyed. A prince, therefore, should not mind the ill repute of cruelty, when he can thereby keep his subjects united and loyal; for a few displays of severity will really be more merciful than to allow, by an excess of clemency, disorders to occur, which are apt to result in rapine and murder; for these injure a whole community, whilst the executions ordered by the prince fall only upon a few individuals. And, above all others, the new prince will find it almost impossible to avoid the reputation of cruelty, because new states are generally exposed to many dangers. It was on this account that Virgil made Dido to excuse the severity of her government, because it was still new, saying, —

“Res dura, et regni novitas me talia cogunt

Moliri, et late fines custode tueri.”*

A prince, however, should be slow to believe and to act; nor should he be too easily alarmed by his own fears, and should proceed moderately and with prudence and humanity, so that an excess of confidence may not make him incautious, nor too much mistrust make him intolerant. This, then, gives rise to the question “whether it be better to be beloved than feared, or to be feared than beloved.” It will naturally be answered that it would be desirable to be both the one and the other; but as it is difficult to be both at the same time, it is much more safe to be feared than to be loved, when you have to choose between the two. For it may be said of men in general that they are ungrateful and fickle, dissemblers, avoiders of danger, and greedy of gain. So long as you shower benefits upon them, they are all yours; they offer you their blood, their substance, their lives, and their children, provided the necessity for it is far off; but when it is near at hand, then they revolt. And the prince who relies upon their words, without having otherwise provided for his security, is ruined; for friendships that are won by rewards, and not by greatness and nobility of soul, although deserved, yet are not real, and cannot be depended upon in time of adversity.

Besides, men have less hesitation in offending one who makes himself beloved than one who makes himself feared; for love  holds by a bond of obligation which, as mankind is bad, is broken on every occasion whenever it is for the interest of the obliged party to break it. But fear holds by the apprehension of punishment, which never leaves men. A prince, however, should make himself feared in such a manner that, if he has not won the affections of his people, he shall at least not incur their hatred; for the being feared, and not hated, can go very well together, if the prince abstains from taking the substance of his subjects, and leaves them their women. And if you should be obliged to inflict capital punishment upon any one, then be sure to do so only when there is manifest cause and proper justification for it; and, above all things, abstain from taking people’s property, for men will sooner forget the death of their fathers than the loss of their patrimony. Besides, there will never be any lack of reasons for taking people’s property; and a prince who once begins to live by rapine will ever find excuses for seizing other people’s property. On the other hand, reasons for taking life are not so easily found, and are more readily exhausted. But when a prince is at the head of his army, with a multitude of soldiers under his command, then it is above all things necessary for him to disregard the reputation of cruelty; for without such severity an army cannot be kept together, nor disposed for any successful feat of arms.

Amongst the many admirable qualities of Hannibal, it is related of him that, having an immense army composed of a very great variety of races of men, which he led to war in foreign countries, no quarrels ever occurred amongst them, nor were there ever any dissensions between them and their chief, either in his good or in his adverse fortunes; which can only be accounted for by his extreme cruelty. This, together with his boundless courage, made him ever venerated and terrible in the eyes of his soldiers; and without that extreme severity all his other virtues would not have sufficed to produce that result.

Inconsiderate writers have, on the one hand, admired his great deeds, and, on the other, condemned the principal cause of the same. And the proof that his other virtues would not have sufficed him may be seen from the case of Scipio, who was one of the most remarkable men, not only of his own time, but in all history. His armies revolted in Spain solely in consequence of his extreme clemency, which allowed his soldiers more license than comports with proper military discipline.  This fact was censured in the Roman Senate by Fabius Maximus, who called Scipio the corrupter of the Roman soldiers. The tribe of the Locrians having been wantonly destroyed by one of the lieutenants of Scipio, he neither punished him for that nor for his insolence, — simply because of his own easy nature; so that, when somebody wished to excuse Scipio in the Senate, he said, “that there were many men who knew better how to avoid errors themselves than to punish them in others.” This easy nature of Scipio’s would in time have dimmed his fame and glory if he had persevered in it under the Empire; but living as he did under the government of the Senate, this dangerous quality of his was not only covered up, but actually redounded to his honor.

To come back now to the question whether it be better to be beloved than feared, I conclude that, as men love of their own free will, but are inspired with fear by the will of the prince, a wise prince should always rely upon himself, and not upon the will of others; but, above all, should he always strive to avoid being hated, as I have already said above.

CHAPTER XVIII. IN WHAT MANNER PRINCES SHOULD KEEP THEIR FAITH.

It must be evident to every one that it is more praiseworthy for a prince always to maintain good faith, and practise integrity rather than craft and deceit. And yet the experience of our own times has shown that those princes have achieved great things who made small account of good faith, and who understood by cunning to circumvent the intelligence of others; and that in the end they got the better of those whose actions were dictated by loyalty and good faith. You must know, therefore, that there are two ways of carrying on a contest; the one by law, and the other by force. The first is practised by men, and the other by animals; and as the first is often insufficient, it becomes necessary to resort to the second.

A prince then should know how to employ the nature of man, and that of the beasts as well. This was figuratively taught by ancient writers, who relate how Achilles and many other  princes were given to Chiron the centaur to be nurtured, and how they were trained under his tutorship; which fable means nothing else than that their preceptor combined the qualities of the man and the beast; and that a prince, to succeed, will have to employ both the one and the other nature, as the one without the other cannot produce lasting results.

It being necessary then for a prince to know well how to employ the nature of the beasts, he should be able to assume both that of the fox and that of the lion; for whilst the latter cannot escape the traps laid for him, the former cannot defend himself against the wolves. A prince should be a fox, to know the traps and snares; and a lion, to be able to frighten the wolves; for those who simply hold to the nature of the lion do not understand their business.

A sagacious prince then cannot and should not fulfil his pledges when their observance is contrary to his interest, and when the causes that induced him to pledge his faith no longer exist. If men were all good, then indeed this precept would be bad; but as men are naturally bad, and will not observe their faith towards you, you must, in the same way, not observe yours to them; and no prince ever yet lacked legitimate reasons with which to color his want of good faith. Innumerable modern examples could be given of this; and it could easily be shown how many treaties of peace, and how many engagements, have been made null and void by the faithlessness of princes; and he who has best known how to play the fox has ever been the most successful.

But it is necessary that the prince should know how to color this nature well, and how to be a great hypocrite and dissembler. For men are so simple, and yield so much to immediate necessity, that the deceiver will never lack dupes. I will mention one of the most recent examples. Alexander VI. never did nor ever thought of anything but to deceive, and always found a reason for doing so. No one ever had greater skill in asseverating, or who affirmed his pledges with greater oaths and observed them less, than Pope Alexander; and yet he was always successful in his deceits, because he knew the weakness of men in that particular.

It is not necessary, however, for a prince to possess all the above-mentioned qualities; but it is essential that he should at least seem to have them. I will even venture to say, that to  have and to practise them constantly is pernicious, but to seem to have them is useful. For instance, a prince should seem to be merciful, faithful, humane, religious, and upright, and should even be so in reality; but he should have his mind so trained that, when occasion requires it, he may know how to change to the opposite. And it must be understood that a prince, and especially one who has but recently acquired his state, cannot perform all those things which cause men to be esteemed as good; he being often obliged, for the sake of maintaining his state, to act contrary to humanity, charity, and religion. And therefore is it necessary that he should have a versatile mind, capable of changing readily, according as the winds and changes of fortune bid him; and, as has been said above, not to swerve from the good if possible, but to know how to resort to evil if necessity demands it.

A prince then should be very careful never to allow anything to escape his lips that does not abound in the above-named five qualities, so that to see and to hear him he may seem all charity, integrity, and humanity, all uprightness, and all piety. And more than all else is it necessary for a prince to seem to possess the last quality; for mankind in general judge more by what they see and hear than by what they feel, every one being capable of the former, and but few of the latter. Everybody sees what you seem to be, but few really feel what you are; and these few dare not oppose the opinion of the many, who are protected by the majesty of the state; for the actions of all men, and especially those of princes, are judged by the result, where there is no other judge to whom to appeal.

A prince then should look mainly to the successful maintenance of his state. The means which he employs for this will always be accounted honorable, and will be praised by everybody; for the common people are always taken by appearances and by results, and it is the vulgar mass that constitutes the world. But a very few have rank and station, whilst the many have nothing to sustain them. A certain prince of our time, whom it is well not to name, never preached anything but peace and good faith; but if he had always observed either the one or the other, it would in most instances have cost him his reputation or his state.

CHAPTER XIX. A PRINCE MUST AVOID BEING CONTEMNED AND HATED.

Having thus considered separately the most important of the above-mentioned qualities which a prince should possess, I will now briefly discuss the others under this general maxim: that a prince should endeavor, as has already been said, to avoid everything that would tend to make him odious and contemned. And in proportion as he avoids that will he have performed his part well, and need fear no danger from any other vices. Above all, a prince makes himself odious by rapacity, that is, by taking away from his subjects their property and their women, from which he should carefully abstain. The great mass of men will live quietly and contentedly, provided you do not rob them of their substance and their honor; so that you will have to contend only with the ambition of a few, which is easily restrained in various ways.

A prince becomes despised when he incurs by his acts the reputation of being variable, inconstant, effeminate, pusillanimous, and irresolute; he should therefore guard against this as against a dangerous rock, and should strive to display in all his actions grandeur, courage, gravity, and determination. And in judging the private causes of his subjects, his decisions should be irrevocable. Thus will he maintain himself in such esteem that no one will think of deceiving or betraying him. The prince, who by his habitual conduct gives cause for such an opinion of himself, will acquire so great a reputation that it will be difficult to conspire against him, or to attack him; provided that it be generally known that he is truly excellent, and revered by his subjects. For there are two things which a prince has to fear: the one, attempts against him by his own subjects; and the other, attacks from without by powerful foreigners. Against the latter he will be able to defend himself by good armies and good allies, and whoever has the one will not lack the other. And so long as his external affairs are kept quiet, his internal security will not be disturbed, unless it should be by a conspiracy. And even if he were to be assailed from without, if he has a well-organized army and has lived as he should have done, he will always (unless he should  give way himself) be able to withstand any such attacks, as we have related was done by Nabis, tyrant of Sparta. But even when at peace externally, it nevertheless behooves the prince to be on his guard, lest his subjects conspire against him secretly. He will, however, be sufficiently secure against this, if he avoids being hated and despised, and keeps his subjects well satisfied with himself, which should ever be his aim, as I have already explained above. Not to be hated nor contemned by the mass of the people is one of the best safeguards for a prince against conspiracies; for conspirators always believe that the death of the prince will be satisfactory to the people; but when they know that it will rather offend than conciliate the people, they will not venture upon such a course, for the difficulties that surround conspirators are infinite.

Experience proves that, although there have been many conspiracies, yet but few have come to a good end; for he who conspires cannot act alone, nor can he take any associates except such as he believes to be malcontents; and so soon as you divulge your plans to a malcontent, you furnish him the means wherewith to procure satisfaction. For by denouncing it he may hope to derive great advantages for himself, seeing that such a course will insure him those advantages, whilst the other is full of doubts and dangers. He must indeed be a very rare friend of yours, or an inveterate enemy of the prince, to observe good faith and not to betray you.

But to reduce this matter to a few words, I say that on the side of the conspirator there is nothing but fear, jealousy, and apprehension of punishment; whilst the prince has on his side the majesty of sovereignty, the laws, the support of his friends and of the government, which protect him. And if to all this be added the popular good will, it seems impossible that any one should be rash enough to attempt a conspiracy against him. For ordinarily a conspirator has cause for apprehension only before the execution of his evil purpose; but in this case, having the people for his enemies, he has also to fear the consequences after the commission of the crime, and can look nowhere for a refuge. Upon this point I might adduce innumerable examples, but will content myself with only one, which occurred within the memory of our fathers. Messer Annibale Bentivogli, grandfather of the present Messer Annibale, being prince of Bologna, was murdered by the Canneschi, who had  conspired against him, and there remained of his family one Messer Giovanni, who was still in his infancy. Immediately after the murder of Messer Annibale, the people rose and killed all the Canneschi. This was the consequence of the popularity which the Bentivogli enjoyed in those days in Bologna, and which went to that extent that after the death of Messer Annibale, when there remained not one of the family in Bologna capable of governing the state, the people received information that there was a Bentivogli in Florence who, until then, had been reputed the son of a blacksmith. They sent a deputation to him at Florence and conferred the government of the city upon him, which he exercised undisturbed until Messer Giovanni came to be of suitable age to assume it himself. I conclude, that a prince need apprehend but little from conspiracies, provided he possess the good will of his people, which is one of the most important points that a prince has to look to.

Amongst the well-organized and well-governed kingdoms of our time is that of France, which has a great many excellent institutions that secure the liberty and safety of the king. The most important of these is the Parliament, and its authority; for the founder of that kingdom knew the ambition and insolence of the nobles, and judged it necessary to put a bit into their mouths with which to curb them. He knew at the same time the hatred of the mass of the people towards the nobles, based upon their fears. Wishing to secure both, and yet unwilling to make this the special care of the king, so as to relieve him of the responsibility to the nobles of seeming to favor the people, and to the people of favoring the nobles, he instituted the Parliament to act as a judge, which might, without reference to the king, keep down the great, and favor the weak. Nor could there be a wiser system, or one that affords more security to the king and his realm.

We may also draw another notable conclusion from this, namely, that princes should devolve all matters of responsibility upon others, and take upon themselves only those of grace. I conclude then anew, that a prince should treat his nobles with respect and consideration, and should avoid at the same time making himself odious to his people. It may perhaps seem to many that, considering the life and death of many Roman Emperors, their example contradicts my opinions, seeing that some who have led most exemplary lives, and  displayed most noble qualities of the soul, yet lost the Empire, or were even killed by their followers, who had conspired against them. I desire to meet this objection, and will therefore discuss the characters of some of those Emperors, showing that the causes of their ruin were not different from those adduced by me above; and I will present some considerations that are important to the student of the history of those times. In this I shall confine myself to those Emperors that succeeded one another from Marcus, the philosopher, to Maximinius; namely, Marcus, his son Commodus, Pertinax, Julian, Severus, Antoninus Caracalla his son, Macrinus, Heliogabalus, Alexander, and Maximinius.

And I must remark at the outset, that, where in other principalities the prince had to contend only with the ambition of the nobles and the insolence of the people, the Roman Emperors had to meet a third difficulty, in having to bear with the cruelty and cupidity of the soldiers, which were so great that they caused the ruin of many, because of the difficulty of satisfying at the same time both the soldiers and the people; for the people love quiet, and for that reason they revere princes who are modest, whilst the soldiers love a prince of military spirit, and who is cruel, haughty, and rapacious. And these qualities the prince must practise upon the people, so as to enable him to increase the pay of the soldiers, and to satisfy their avarice and cruelty. Whence it came that all those Emperors were ruined who had not, by their natural or acquired qualities, the necessary influence that would enable them to restrain at the same time the soldiers and the people. Most of them, therefore, and especially those who had but recently attained the sovereignty, knowing the difficulty of satisfying two such different dispositions, sought rather to satisfy the soldiers, and cared but little about oppressing and offending the people. And this course was unavoidable for them; for inasmuch as princes generally cannot prevent being hated by some, they ought first of all to strive not to be hated by the mass of the people; but failing in this, they should by all means endeavor to avoid being hated by the more powerful. And therefore those Emperors who, by reason of having but recently acquired the Empire, had need of extraordinary favors, attached themselves more readily to the soldiery than to the people; which, however, was advantageous to them or not only according as such Emperor knew  how to maintain his ascendency over them. These were the reasons why Marcus, Pertinax, and Alexander, being all three men of modest lives, lovers of justice, enemies to cruelty, humane, and benevolent, came to a bad end, Marcus alone excepted, who lived and died much honored; but he had succeeded to the Empire by inheritance, and was not indebted for it either to the soldiers or to the favor of the people. He was, moreover, endowed with many virtues, which made him generally revered; and so long as he lived he always kept both the soldiery and the people within their proper bounds, and thus was neither hated nor contemned. But Pertinax was made emperor contrary to the will of the army, which, having been accustomed under Commodus to a life of unrestrained license, could not bear the orderly life to which Pertinax wished to constrain them. Having thus incurred their hatred, to which disrespect became added on account of his age, he was ruined at the very outset of his reign. And here I would observe that hatred may be caused by good as well as by evil works, and therefore (as I have said above) a prince who wants to preserve his state is often obliged not to be good; for when the mass of the people or of the soldiery, or of the nobles, whose support is necessary for him, is corrupt, then it becomes the interest of the prince to indulge and satisfy their humor; and it is under such circumstances that good works will be injurious to him. Let us come now to Alexander, who was so good that, amongst other merits, it was said of him that during the fourteen years of his reign not one person was put to death by him without regular judicial proceedings. But being regarded as effeminate, and as allowing himself to be governed by his mother, he fell into disrespect, and the soldiery conspired against him and killed him.

Discussing now, by way of the opposite extreme, the qualities of Commodus, Severus, Antoninus Caracalla, and Maximinius, we find them to have been most cruel and rapacious; and that, for the sake of keeping the soldiers satisfied, they did not hesitate to commit every kind of outrage upon the people; and that all of them, with exception of Septimus Severus, came to a bad end. The latter possessed such valor that, although he imposed heavy burdens upon the people, yet, by keeping the soldiers his friends, he was enabled to reign undisturbed and happily; for his bravery caused him to be so much admired by the soldiers  and the people that the latter were in a manner stupefied and astounded by it, whilst it made the former respectful and satisfied.

And as the actions of Severus were really great, considering that he was a prince of but recent date, I will show how well he knew to play the part of the fox and of the lion, whose natures a prince should be able to imitate, as I have shown above. Severus, knowing the indolence of the Emperor Julian, persuaded the troops which he commanded in Slavonia that it would be proper for them to go to Rome to avenge the death of Pertinax, who had been killed by the Imperial Guard. Under this pretext, without showing that he aspired to the Empire, he moved the army to Rome, and was in Italy before it was known even that he had started. On his arrival in Rome the Senate, under the influence of fear, elected Severus Emperor, Julian having previously been slain.

After this beginning, Severus had yet two difficulties to overcome before he could make himself master of the entire state: the one in Asia, where Niger, commander of the army of the East, had himself proclaimed Emperor; and the other in the West, caused by Albinus, who also aspired to the Empire. Deeming it dangerous to declare himself openly the enemy of both, Severus resolved to attack Niger and to deceive Albinus; and therefore he wrote to the latter that, having been elected Emperor by the Senate, he wished to share that dignity with him, and accordingly sent him the title of Cæsar, and accepted him as his colleague, by resolution of the Senate. Albinus received it all as truth; but after Severus had defeated and slain Niger, and quieted matters in the East, he returned to Rome and complained in the Senate that Albinus, little grateful for the benefits which he had bestowed upon him, had plotted treason and murder against him, and that therefore it was incumbent upon him to go and punish this ingratitude and treason. Severus thereupon went into France to seek Albinus, and deprived him of his state and his life.

If now we examine minutely the conduct of Severus, we shall find that he combined the ferocity of the lion with the cunning of the fox, and that he was feared and revered by every one, and was not hated by the army. Nor ought we to be surprised to find that, although a new man, he yet should have been able to maintain himself at the head of so great an empire; for his  eminent reputation saved him always from incurring the hatred of the people, which his rapacity might otherwise have provoked.

Antoninus Caracalla, the son of Severus, was also a man possessed of eminent qualities and rare gifts, which made him admired by the people and acceptable to the soldiery. For he was a military man, capable of enduring every fatigue, despising the delicacies of the table and every other effeminacy, which made him beloved by all the army. But his ferocity and cruelty were so great and unprecedented that, having on several occasions caused a large number of the people of Rome to be put to death, and at another time nearly the entire population of Alexandria, he became odious to the whole world, and began to be feared even by his immediate attendants, and finally was killed by a centurion in the midst of his army. Whence we may observe that princes cannot always escape assassination when prompted by a resolute and determined spirit; for any man who himself despises death can always inflict it upon others. But as men of this sort are rare, princes need not be very apprehensive about them; they should, however, be most careful not to offend grievously any of those who serve their persons, or who are around and near them in the service of the state. It was in this respect that Caracalla erred, for he had contumeliously slain a brother of a centurion, whom he had also threatened repeatedly, and yet kept him as one of his body-guard; which was a most reckless thing to do, and well calculated to prove ruinous to Antoninus Caracalla, as it finally did.

But we come now to Commodus, who might have kept the Empire with great ease, having inherited it as the son of Marcus Aurelius. All he had to do was to follow in the footsteps of his father, which would have satisfied both the people and the army. But being of a cruel and bestial nature, he began by entertaining the army and making it licentious, so as to enable him the more freely to indulge his rapacity upon the people. And on the other hand he made himself contemptible in the eyes of his soldiers, by disregarding his own dignity, and descending into the arena to combat with gladiators, and doing other disgraceful things wholly unworthy of the imperial majesty. Being thus hated by the people and contemned by the army, a conspiracy was set on foot against him and he was killed.

It remains now for me to discuss the character of Maximinius. He was a most warlike man; and the army being tired of the effeminacy of Alexander Severus, of which I have spoken above, they elected Maximinius to the Empire after the death of Alexander. But he did not retain it very long, for two circumstances made him both odious and despised. One was his extremely low origin, having been a shepherd in Thracia (which was generally known, and caused him to be held in great contempt by every one), and the other was his delay, when elected Emperor, to go to Rome, there to take possession of the imperial throne. He had moreover earned the reputation of extreme cruelty, in consequence of the many acts of ferocity which he had committed through the agency of his prefects in Rome and elsewhere. Being thus despised by the whole world on account of his low origin, and on the other hand hated because of his cruelty, a conspiracy was formed against him, first in Africa, and then by the Senate and people of Rome and all Italy. His army joined in the conspiracy, for being engaged in the siege of Aquileia and finding difficulty in taking it, they became tired of his harshness; and seeing that he had so many enemies, they lost their fear of him and put him to death.

I care not to discuss either Heliogabalus, or Macrinus, or Julian, who, being utterly contemptible, came quickly to an end; but will conclude this discourse by saying that the princes of our times are not subjected to the same difficulties in their governments by the extraordinary demands of their armies. For although they are obliged to show them some consideration, yet they are easily disposed of, as none of the sovereigns of the present day keep their armies constantly together, so as to become veterans in the service of the government and the administration of the provinces, as was the case in the time of the Roman Empire. And if in those days it was necessary to have more regard to the armies than to the people, because of their greater power, it nowadays behooves princes rather to keep the people contented, for they have more influence and power than the soldiers. The Grand Turk and the Sultan of Egypt form an exception to this rule, for the Turk always keeps himself surrounded by twelve thousand infantry and fifteen thousand cavalry, on which the strength and security of his empire depends; he must therefore keep  these troops devoted to himself, regardless of all consideration for the people.

It is much the same with the government of the Sultan of Egypt, which being entirely under the control of the army, it behooves him also, regardless of the people, to keep the soldiery his friends. And here I would remark that the government of the Sultan of Egypt differs from all other principalities, although in some respects similar to the Christian Pontificate, which cannot be called either an hereditary or a new principality. For when the Sultan dies, his sons do not inherit the government, but it devolves upon whoever is elected to that dignity by those who have authority in the matter. And as this system is consecrated by time, it cannot be called a new principality; for it is free from all the difficulties that appertain to new principalities. For even if the prince be new, the institutions of the state are old, and are so organized as to receive the elected the same as though he were their hereditary lord.

But to return to our subject, I say, that whoever reflects carefully upon the above discourse will find that the ruin of the above-mentioned Emperors was caused by either hatred or contempt; and he will also see how it happened that, whilst some of them having proceeded one way and some in the opposite, in some instances the one had a happy, and the other an unhappy end. For in the case of Pertinax and Alexander, both being new princes, it was useless and dangerous for them to attempt to imitate Marcus, who had inherited the Empire. And in the same way it was ruinous for Caracalla, Commodus, and Maximinius to imitate Severus, for neither of them possessed the noble qualities necessary to enable them to follow in his footsteps.

A prince, therefore, who has but recently acquired his principality, cannot imitate the conduct of Marcus Aurelius; nor is it necessary for him to imitate that of Septimus Severus. But he should learn from Severus what is necessary to found a state, and from Marcus what is proper and glorious for the preservation of a state that is already firmly established.

CHAPTER XX. WHETHER THE ERECTION OF FORTRESSES, AND MANY OTHER THINGS WHICH PRINCES OFTEN DO, ARE USEFUL, OR INJURIOUS.

Some princes, with a view to a more secure tenure of their states, have disarmed their subjects; some have kept the countries subject to them divided into different parties; others have purposely encouraged enmities against themselves; whilst others again have endeavored to win the good will of those whom in the beginning of their reign they suspected of hostile feelings. Some have built fortresses, whilst others have demolished and razed those that existed. Now although I cannot pronounce any definite judgment as to these different ways of proceeding, without examining the particular condition of those states where similar proceedings are to be applied, yet I will treat the subject in that general way of which it is susceptible.

It has never happened that a new prince has disarmed his subjects; on the contrary rather, if he has found them unarmed, he has armed them, and in that way has made them as it were his own, and made those faithful who before were suspect; whilst those who were loyal to him before will remain so, and thus he will convert his subjects into his partisans and supporters. And although a prince cannot arm all his subjects, yet by giving certain advantages to those whom he does arm, he secures himself the better against the others who are not armed, and who will excuse the preference shown to those whom the prince has armed and thereby laid under obligations to himself. For the others will excuse him, and will recognize the necessity of rewarding those who are exposed to greater danger, and who have more onerous duties to perform.

But a prince who disarms his subjects will at once offend them, by thus showing that he has no confidence in them, but that he suspects them either of cowardice or want of loyalty, and this will cause them to hate him. And as the prince cannot remain without an armed force, he will have to resort to mercenaries, the objections to which I have fully set forth in a preceding chapter. And even if these mercenaries were not absolutely bad, they would still be insufficient to protect  the prince against powerful enemies, and suspected subjects. Therefore, as I have said, new princes should always establish armed forces in their newly acquired principalities; for which history furnishes us abundance of precedents.

But when a prince acquires a new state, which he annexes as an appendage to his old possessions, then it is advisable for him to disarm the inhabitants of the new state, excepting those who, upon the acquisition of the same, declared in the prince’s favor. But even these it will be well for him to weaken and enervate when occasion offers; so that his armed forces shall be organized in such a way as to consist entirely of his own subjects, natives of his original state.

Our ancestors, and those who were regarded as wise, used to say that the way to hold Pistoja was through party divisions, and Pisa by means of fortresses. Accordingly they encouraged such party divisions in some of the towns that were subject to them, for the purpose of holding them the more easily. This may have been very well in those times when the different powers of Italy were to some extent evenly balanced; but it does not seem to me that such a precept is applicable at the present day, for I do not believe that party divisions purposely made are ever productive of good. To the contrary rather, cities divided against themselves are easily lost, on the approach of an enemy; for the weaker party will always unite with the external foe, and then the other will not be able to maintain itself.

The Venetians, influenced I believe by the above reasons, encouraged the feuds between the Guelfs and the Ghibellines in the cities that were subject to them; and although they never allowed them to come to bloody conflicts, yet they fomented their quarrels sufficiently to keep the citizens occupied with their own dissensions, so that they could not turn against the Venetians. This, however, did not result as they had designed, for after the defeat at Vaila one of the parties promptly took courage, and deprived the Venetians of the entire state. Measures of this kind, therefore, argue weakness in a prince, for a strong government will never allow such divisions; they can be of advantage only in time of peace, as by their means subjects may be more easily managed, but in case of war the fallacy of this system becomes manifest. Princes undoubtedly become great by overcoming all difficulties and oppositions that  may spring up against them; and therefore does Fortune, when she intends to make a new prince great (for whom it is more important to acquire a reputation than for an hereditary prince), cause enemies to arise and make attempts against the prince, so as to afford him the opportunity of overcoming them, and that he may thus rise higher by means of the very ladder which his enemies have brought against him. And therefore the opinion has been held by many, that a wise prince should, when opportunity offers, adroitly nurse some enmities against himself, so that by overcoming them his greatness may be increased.

Princes, and more especially new ones, have often met with more fidelity and devotion in the very men whom at the beginning of their reign they mistrusted, than in those upon whom they at first confidently relied. Thus Pandolfo Petrucci, prince of Sienna, governed his state more by the aid of those whom he at first regarded with suspicion, than by that of any of his other subjects. But no general rules can be laid down for this, as the prince must in this respect be governed by circumstances. I will only observe that those men who at the beginning of a prince’s reign are hostile to him, and who are yet so situated that they need his support for their maintenance, will always be most easily won over by him; and they will be obliged to continue to serve him with the greater fidelity, because of the importance of their effacing by their good conduct the bad opinion which the prince had formed of them at the beginning. And thus the prince will derive more useful service from these than from such as from over confidence in their security will serve his interests negligently.

And since the subject requires it, I will not omit to remind the prince who has but recently acquired a state by the favor of its citizens to consider well the reasons that influenced those who favored his success. For if it was not a natural affection for him, but merely their dissatisfaction with the previous government, then he will have much trouble and difficulty in preserving their attachment, for it will be almost impossible for the prince to satisfy their expectations. Now if we carefully study the reasons of this from the examples which both ancient and modern history furnish us, we shall find that it is much easier for a prince to win the friendship of those who previous to his acquisition of the state were  content with its government, and who must therefore have been hostile to him, than of those who, from being malcontents under the previous government, became his friends, and favored his seizing the state.

It has been the general practice of princes, for the purpose of holding their states securely, to build fortresses to serve as a curb and check upon those who might make an attempt against the government, and at the same time to afford the prince a secure place of refuge against the first attack. I approve of this system, because it was practised by the ancients; and yet we have seen in our own times that Messer Niccolo Vitelli dismantled two fortresses in Citta di Castello, so as to enable him to hold that place. Guidobaldo, Duke of Urbino, on returning to his state, whence he had been driven by Cesar Borgia, razed all the fortresses of that province to their very foundations; for he thought that it would be more difficult for him to lose that state a second time without those fortresses. The Bentivogli did the same thing on their return to Bologna. Fortresses then are useful or not, according to circumstances; and whilst in one way they are advantageous, they may in another prove injurious to a prince. The question may therefore be stated thus. A prince who fears his own people more than he does foreigners should build fortresses; but he who has more cause to fear strangers than his own people should do without them. The citadel of Milan, built by Francesco Sforza, has caused, and will yet cause, more trouble to the house of Sforza than any other disturbance in that state. The best fortress which a prince can possess is the affection of his people; for even if he have fortresses, and is hated by his people, the fortresses will not save him; for when a people have once risen in arms against their prince, there will be no lack of strangers who will aid them.

In our own times we have seen but one instance where fortresses have been of advantage to a ruler, and that was the case of the Countess of Furli, when her husband, the Count Girolamo, was killed; for the castle of Furli enabled her to escape from the fury of the people, and there to await assistance from Milan, so as to recover her state, the circumstances at the time being such that the people could not obtain assistance from strangers. Later, however, when she was assailed by Cesar Borgia, the people of Furli, being hostile to her, united  with the stranger, and then the castle was no longer of any great value to her. Thus she would have been more secure if she had not been hated by her people, than she was in possessing the castle.

After a full examination of the question, then, I approve of those who build fortresses, as well as those who do not. But I blame all those who, in their confident reliance upon such strongholds, do not mind incurring the hatred of their own people.

CHAPTER XXI. HOW PRINCES SHOULD CONDUCT THEMSELVES TO ACQUIRE A REPUTATION.

Nothing makes a prince so much esteemed as the undertaking of great enterprises and the setting a noble example in his own person. We have a striking instance of this in Ferdinand of Aragon, the present king of Spain. He may be called, as it were, a new prince; for, from being king of a feeble state, he has, by his fame and glory, become the first sovereign of Christendom; and if we examine his actions we shall find them all most grand, and some of them extraordinary. In the beginning of his reign he attacked Granada, and it was this undertaking that was the very foundation of his greatness. At first he carried on this war leisurely and without fear of opposition; for he kept the nobles of Castile occupied with this enterprise, and, their minds being thus engaged by war, they gave no attention to the innovations introduced by the king, who thereby acquired a reputation and an influence over the nobles without their being aware of it. The money of the Church and of the people enabled him to support his armies, and by that long war he succeeded in giving a stable foundation to his military establishment, which afterwards brought him so much honor. Besides this, to be able to engage in still greater enterprises, he always availed himself of religion as a pretext, and committed a pious cruelty in spoliating and driving the Moors out of his kingdom, which certainly was a most admirable and extraordinary example. Under the same cloak of religion he attacked Africa, and made a descent upon Italy, and finally assailed France.  And thus he was always planning great enterprises, which kept the minds of his subjects in a state of suspense and admiration, and occupied with their results. And these different enterprises followed so quickly one upon the other, that he never gave men a chance deliberately to make any attempt against himself.

It is also important for a prince to give striking examples of his interior administration, (similar to those that are related of Messer Bernabo di Milano,) when an occasion presents itself to reward or punish any one who has in civil affairs either rendered great service to the state, or committed some crime, so that it may be much talked about. But, above all, a prince should endeavor to invest all his actions with a character of grandeur and excellence. A prince, furthermore, becomes esteemed when he shows himself either a true friend or a real enemy; that is, when, regardless of consequences, he declares himself openly for or against another, which will always be more creditable to him than to remain neutral. For if two of your neighboring potentates should come to war amongst themselves, they are either of such character that, when either of them has been defeated, you will have cause to fear the conqueror, or not. In either case, it will always be better for you to declare yourself openly and make fair war; for if you fail to do so, you will be very apt to fall a prey to the victor, to the delight and satisfaction of the defeated party, and you will have no claim for protection or assistance from either the one or the other. For the conqueror will want no doubtful friends, who did not stand by him in time of trial; and the defeated party will not forgive you for having refused, with arms in hand, to take the chance of his fortunes.

When Antiochus came into Greece, having been sent by the Ætolians to drive out the Romans, he sent ambassadors to the Achaians, who were friends of the Romans, to induce them to remain neutral; whilst the Romans, on the other hand, urged them to take up arms in their behalf. When the matter came up for deliberation in the council of the Achaians, and the ambassadors of Antiochus endeavored to persuade them to remain neutral, the Roman legate replied: “As to the course which is said to be the best and most advantageous for your state, not to intervene in our war, I can assure you that the very reverse will be the case; for by not intervening  you will, without thanks and without credit, remain a prize to the victor.”

And it will always be the case that he who is not your friend will claim neutrality at your hands, whilst your friend will ask your armed intervention in his favor. Irresolute princes, for the sake of avoiding immediate danger, adopt most frequently the course of neutrality, and are generally ruined in consequence. But when a prince declares himself boldly in favor of one party, and that party proves victorious, even though the victor be powerful, and you are at his discretion, yet is he bound to you in love and obligation; and men are never so base as to repay these by such flagrant ingratitude as the oppressing you under these circumstances would be.

Moreover, victories are never so complete as to dispense the victor from all regard for justice. But when the party whom you have supported loses, then he will ever after receive you as a friend, and, when able, will assist you in turn; and thus you will have become the sharer of a fortune which in time may be retrieved.

In the second case, when the contending parties are such that you need not fear the victor, then it is the more prudent to give him your support; for you thereby aid one to ruin the other, whom he should save if he were wise; for although he has defeated his adversary, yet he remains at your discretion, inasmuch as without your assistance victory would have been impossible for him. And here it should be noted, that a prince ought carefully to avoid making common cause with any one more powerful than himself, for the purpose of attacking another power, unless he should be compelled to do so by necessity. For if the former is victorious, then you are at his mercy; and princes should, if possible, avoid placing themselves in such a position.

The Venetians allied themselves with France against the Duke of Milan, an alliance which they could easily have avoided, and which proved their ruin. But when it is unavoidable, as was the case with the Florentines when Spain and the Pope united their forces to attack Lombardy, then a prince ought to join the stronger party, for the reasons above given. Nor is it to be supposed that a state can ever adopt a course that is entirely safe; on the contrary, a prince must make up his mind to take the chance of all the doubts and uncertainties; for such  is the order of things that one inconvenience cannot be avoided except at the risk of being exposed to another. And it is the province of prudence to discriminate amongst these inconveniences, and to accept the least evil for good.

A prince should also show himself a lover of virtue, and should honor all who excel in any one of the arts, and should encourage his citizens quietly to pursue their vocations, whether of commerce, agriculture, or any other human industry; so that the one may not abstain from embellishing his possessions for fear of their being taken from him, nor the other from opening new sources of commerce for fear of taxes. But the prince should provide rewards for those who are willing to do these things, and for all who strive to enlarge his city or state. And besides this, he should at suitable periods amuse his people with festivities and spectacles. And as cities are generally divided into guilds and classes, he should keep account of these bodies, and occasionally be present at their assemblies, and should set an example of his affability and magnificence; preserving, however, always the majesty of his dignity, which should never be wanting on any occasion or under any circumstances.

CHAPTER XXII. OF THE MINISTERS OF PRINCES.

The choice of his ministers is of no slight importance to a prince; they are either good or not, according as the prince himself is sagacious or otherwise; and upon the character of the persons with whom a prince surrounds himself depends the first impression that is formed of his own ability. If his ministers and counsellors are competent and faithful, he will be reputed wise, because he had known how to discern their capacity and how to secure their fidelity; but if they prove otherwise, then the opinion formed of the prince will not be favorable, because of his want of judgment in their first selection. Every one who knew Messer Antonio di Venafro as the minister of Pandolfo Petrucci, prince of Sienna, judged Pandolfo to be a man of great sagacity in having chosen Messer Antonio for his minister.

There are three sorts of intellect: the one understands things by its own quickness of perception; another understands them when explained by some one else; and the third understands them neither by itself nor by the explanation of others. The first is the best, the second very good, and the third useless. Now we must admit that Pandolfo did not belong to the first order, but rather to the second. For whenever a prince has the sagacity to recognize the good or the evil that is said or done, he will, even without being a genius, be able to judge whether the minister’s actions are good or bad; and he will praise the one and censure the other. And thus the minister, seeing that he cannot hope to deceive the prince, will continue to serve him faithfully. But the true way for a prince to know his minister is as follows, and never fails. Whenever he sees that the minister thinks more of himself than of the prince, and that in all his doings he seeks his own advantage more than that of the state, then the prince may be sure that that man will never be a good minister, and is not to be trusted. For a man who has the administration of a state in his hands, should never think of himself, but only of the prince, and should never bring anything to his notice that does not relate to the interest of the government.

On the other hand, the prince, by way of securing the devotion of his minister, should think of him and bind him to himself by obligations; he should bestow riches upon him, and should share the honors as well as the cares with him; so that the abundance of honors and riches conferred by the prince upon his minister may cause the latter not to desire either the one or the other from any other source, and that the weight of cares may make him dread a change, knowing that without the prince he could not sustain it. And when the relations between the prince and his minister are thus constituted, they will be able to confide in each other; but if they be otherwise, then one or the other of them will surely come to a bad end.

CHAPTER XXIII. HOW TO AVOID FLATTERERS.

I will not leave unnoticed an important subject, and an evil against which princes have much difficulty in defending themselves, if they are not extremely prudent, or have not made good choice of ministers; and this relates to flatterers, who abound in all courts. Men are generally so well pleased with themselves and their own acts, and delude themselves to such a degree, that it is with difficulty they escape from the pest of flatterers; and in their efforts to avoid them they expose themselves to the risk of being contemned. There is no other way of guarding against adulation, than to make people understand that they will not offend you by speaking the truth. On the other hand, when every one feels at liberty to tell you the truth, they will be apt to be lacking in respect to you. A prudent prince therefore should follow a middle course, choosing for ministers of his government only wise men, and to these only should he give full power to tell him the truth, and they should only be allowed to speak to him of those things which he asks of them, and of none other. But then the prince should ask them about everything, and should listen to their opinions and reflect upon them, and afterwards form his own resolutions. And he should bear himself towards all his advisers in such manner that each may know that the more freely he speaks, the more acceptable will he be. But outside of these he should not listen to any one, but follow the course agreed upon, and be firm in his resolves. Whoever acts otherwise will either be misled by his flatterers, or will vacillate in his decisions, because of the variety of opinions; and this will naturally result in his losing in public estimation.

I will cite one modern example to this effect. Padre Luca, in the service of the present Emperor Maximilian, in speaking of his Majesty, says that he “counsels with no one, and yet never does anything in his own way”; which results from his following the very opposite course to that above indicated; for the Emperor is a reserved man, who never communicates his secrets to any one, nor takes advice from anybody. But when he attempts to carry his plans into execution and they  begin to be known, then also do they begin to be opposed by those whom he has around him; and being easily influenced, he is diverted from his own resolves. And thence it comes that he undoes one day what he has done the day before, and that one never knows what he wants or designs to do; and therefore his conclusions cannot be depended upon.

A prince nevertheless should always take counsel, but only when he wants it, and not when others wish to thrust it upon him; in fact, he should rather discourage persons from tendering him advice unsolicited by him. But he should be an extensive questioner, and a patient listener to the truth respecting the things inquired about, and should even show his anger in case any one should, for some reason, not tell him the truth.

Those who imagine that a prince who has the reputation of sagacity is not indebted for it to his own natural gifts, but to the good counsels of those who surround him, certainly deceive themselves. For it may be taken as a general and infallible rule, that a prince who is not naturally wise cannot be well advised; unless he should perchance place himself entirely in the hands of one man, who should guide him in all things, and who would have to be a man of uncommon ability. In such a case a prince might be well directed, but it would probably not last long, because his counsellor would in a short time deprive him of his state. But a prince who is not wise himself, and counsels with more than one person, will never have united counsels; for he will himself lack the ability to harmonize and combine the various counsels and suggestions. His advisers will only think of their own advantage, which the prince will neither know how to discern nor how to correct.

And things cannot well be otherwise, for men will always naturally prove bad, unless some necessity constrains them to be good. Whence we conclude that good counsels, no matter whence they may come, result wholly from the prince’s own sagacity; but the wisdom of the prince never results from good counsels.

CHAPTER XXIV. THE REASON WHY THE PRINCES OF ITALY HAVE LOST THEIR STATES.

A judicious observation of the above-given rules will cause a new prince to be regarded as though he were an hereditary one, and will very soon make him more firm and secure in his state than if he had grown old in its possession. For the actions of a new prince are much more closely observed and scrutinized than those of an hereditary one; and when they are known to be virtuous, they will win the confidence and affections of men much more for the new prince, and make his subjects feel under greater obligations to him, than if he were of the ancient line. For men are ever more taken with the things of the present than with those of the past; and when they find their own good in the present, then they enjoy it and seek none other, and will be ready in every way to defend the new prince, provided he be not wanting to himself in other respects. And thus he will have the double glory of having established a new principality, and of having strengthened and adorned it with good laws, good armies, good allies, and good examples. And in the same way will it be a double shame to an hereditary prince, if through want of prudence and ability he loses his state.

If now we examine the conduct of those princes of Italy who in our day have lost their states, such as the king of Naples, the Duke of Milan, and others, we shall note in them at once a common defect as regards their military forces, for the reasons which we have discussed at length above. And we shall also find that in some instances the people were hostile to the prince; or if he had the good will of the people, he knew not how to conciliate that of the nobles. For unless there be some such defects as these, states are not lost when the prince has energy enough to keep an army in the the field.

Philip of Macedon, not the father of Alexander the Great, but he who was vanquished by Titus Quintus, had not much of a state as compared with Rome and Greece, who attacked him; yet being a military man, and at the same time knowing how to preserve the good will of the people and to assure himself  of the support of the nobles, he sustained the war against the Romans and Greeks for many years; and although he finally lost some cities, yet he preserved his kingdom.

Those of our princes, therefore, who have lost their dominions after having been established in them for many years, should not blame fortune, but only their own indolence and lack of energy; for in times of quiet they never thought of the possibility of a change (it being a common defect of men in fair weather to take no thought of storms), and afterwards, when adversity overtook them, their first impulse was to fly, and not to defend themselves, hoping that the people, when disgusted with the insolence of the victors, would recall them. Such a course may be very well when others fail, but it is very discreditable to neglect other means for it that might have saved you from ruin; for no one ever falls deliberately, in the expectation that some one will help him up, which either does not happen, or, if it does, will not contribute to your security; for it is a base thing to look to others for your defence instead of depending upon yourself. That defence alone is effectual, sure, and durable which depends upon yourself and your own valor.

CHAPTER XXV. OF THE INFLUENCE OF FORTUNE IN HUMAN AFFAIRS, AND HOW IT MAY BE COUNTERACTED.

I am well aware that many have held and still hold the opinion, that the affairs of this world are so controlled by Fortune and by the Divine Power that human wisdom and foresight cannot modify them; that, in fact, there is no remedy against the decrees of fate, and that therefore it is not worth while to make any effort, but to yield unconditionally to the power of Fortune. This opinion has been generally accepted in our times, because of the great changes that have taken place, and are still being witnessed every day, and are beyond all human conjecture.

In reflecting upon this at times, I am myself in some measure inclined to that belief; nevertheless, as our free will  is not entirely destroyed, I judge that it may be assumed as true that Fortune to the extent of one half is the arbiter of our actions, but that she permits us to direct the other half, or perhaps a little less, ourselves. I compare this to a swollen river, which in its fury overflows the plains, tears up the trees and buildings, and sweeps the earth from one place and deposits it in another. Every one flies before the flood, and yields to its fury, unable to resist it; and notwithstanding this state of things, men do not when the river is in its ordinary condition provide against its overflow by dikes and walls, so that when it rises it may flow either in the channel thus provided for it, or that at any rate its violence may not be entirely unchecked, nor its effects prove so injurious. It is the same with Fortune, who displays her power where there is no organized valor to resist her, and where she knows that there are no dikes or walls to control her.

If now you examine Italy, which is the seat of the changes under consideration, and has occasioned their occurrence, you will see that she is like an open country, without dikes or any other protection against inundations; and that if she had been protected with proper valor and wisdom, as is the case with Germany, Spain, and France, these inundations would either not have caused the great changes which they did, or they would not have occurred at all.

These remarks I deem sufficient as regards resisting fortune in general; but confining myself now more to particular cases, I say that we see a prince fortunate one day, and ruined the next, without his nature or any of his qualities being changed. I believe this results mainly from the causes which have been discussed at length above; namely, that the prince who relies entirely upon fortune will be ruined according as fortune varies. I believe, further, that the prince who conforms his conduct to the spirit of the times will be fortunate; and in the same way will he be unfortunate, if in his actions he disregards the spirit of the times. For we see men proceed in various ways to attain the end they aim at, such as glory and riches: the one with circumspection, the other with rashness; one with violence, another with cunning; one with patience, and another with impetuosity; and all may succeed in their different ways. We also see that, of two men equally prudent, the one will accomplish his designs, whilst the other fails; and  in the same way we see two men succeed equally well by two entirely different methods, the one being prudent and the other rash; which is due to nothing else than the character of the times, to which they either conform in their proceedings or not. Whence it comes, as I have said, that two men by entirely different modes of action will achieve the same results; whilst of two others, proceeding precisely in the same way, the one will accomplish his end, and the other not. This also causes the difference of success; for if one man, acting with caution and patience, is also favored by time and circumstances, he will be successful; but if these change, then will he be ruined, unless, indeed, he changes his conduct accordingly. Nor is there any man so sagacious that he will always know how to conform to such change of times and circumstances; for men do not readily deviate from the course to which their nature inclines them; and, moreover, if they have generally been prosperous by following one course, they cannot persuade themselves that it would be well to depart from it. Thus the cautious man, when the moment comes for him to strike a bold blow, will not know how to do it, and thence will he fail; whilst, if he could have changed his nature with the times and circumstances, his usual good fortune would not have abandoned him.

Pope Julius II. was in all his actions most impetuous; and the times and circumstances happened so conformably to that mode of proceeding that he always achieved happy results. Witness the first attempt he made upon Bologna, when Messer Giovanni Bentivogli was still living. This attempt gave umbrage to the Venetians, and also to the kings of Spain and France, who held a conference on the subject. But Pope Julius, with his habitual boldness and impetuosity, assumed the direction of that expedition in person; which caused the Spaniards and the Venetians to remain quiet in suspense, the latter from fear, and the others from a desire to recover the entire kingdom of Naples. On the other hand, the Pope drew the king of France after him; for that king, seeing that Julius had already started on the expedition, and wishing to gain his friendship for the purpose of humbling the Venetians, judged that he could not refuse him the assistance of his army without manifest injury to himself.

Pope Julius II., then, achieved by this impetuous movement what no other pontiff could have accomplished with all possible  human prudence. For had he waited to start from Rome until all his plans were definitely arranged, and everything carefully organized, as every other pontiff would have done, he would certainly never have succeeded; for the king would have found a thousand excuses, and the others would have caused him a thousand apprehensions. I will not dwell upon the other actions of Julius II., which were all of a similar character, and have all succeeded equally well. The shortness of his life saved him from experiencing any reverses; for if times had supervened that would have made it necessary for him to proceed with caution and prudence, he would assuredly have been ruined; for he could never have deviated from the course to which his nature inclined him.

I conclude, then, inasmuch as Fortune is changeable, that men who persist obstinately in their own ways will be successful only so long as those ways coincide with those of Fortune; and whenever these differ, they fail. But, on the whole, I judge impetuosity to be better than caution; for Fortune is a woman, and if you wish to master her, you must strike and beat her, and you will see that she allows herself to be more easily vanquished by the rash and the violent than by those who proceed more slowly and coldly. And therefore, as a woman, she ever favors youth more than age, for youth is less cautious and more energetic, and commands Fortune with greater audacity.

CHAPTER XXVI. EXHORTATION TO DELIVER ITALY FROM FOREIGN BARBARIANS.

Reviewing now all I have said in the foregoing discourses, and thinking to myself that, if the present time should be favorable for Italy to receive and honor a new prince, and the opportunity were given to a prudent and virtuous man to establish a new form of government, that would bring honor to himself and happiness to the mass of the Italian people, so many things would combine for the advantage of such a new prince, that, so far as I know, no previous time was ever more favorable for such a change. And if, as I have said, it was necessary for the purpose of displaying the virtue of Moses that the people of  Israel should be held in bondage in Egypt; and that the Persians should be opposed to the Medes, so as to bring to light the greatness and courage of Cyrus; and that the Athenians should be dispersed for the purpose of illustrating the excellence of Theseus; so at present, for the purpose of making manifest the virtues of one Italian spirit, it was necessary that Italy should have been brought to her present condition of being in a worse bondage than that of the Jews, more enslaved than the Persians, more scattered than the Athenians, without a head, without order, vanquished and despoiled, lacerated, overrun by her enemies, and subjected to every kind of devastation.

And although, up to the present time, there may have been some one who may have given a gleam of hope that he was ordained by Heaven to redeem Italy, yet have we seen how, in the very zenith of his career, he was so checked by fortune that poor Italy remained as it were lifeless, and waiting to see who might be chosen to heal her wounds, — to put an end to her devastation, to the sacking of Lombardy, to the spoliation and ruinous taxation of the kingdom of Naples and of Tuscany, — and who should heal her sores that have festered so long. You see how she prays God that he may send some one who shall redeem her from this cruelty and barbarous insolence. You see her eagerly disposed to follow any banner, provided there be some one to bear it aloft. But there is no one at present in whom she could place more hope than in your illustrious house, O magnificent Lorenzo! which, with its virtue and fortune, favored by God and the Church, of which it is now the head, could make an effectual beginning of her deliverance. And this will not be difficult for you, if you will first study carefully the lives and actions of the men whom I have named above. And although these men were rare and wonderful, they were nevertheless but men, and the opportunities which they had were far less favorable than the present; nor were their undertakings more just or more easy than this; neither were they more favored by the Almighty than what you are. Here, then, is great justice; for war is just when it is necessary, and a resort to arms is beneficent when there is no hope in anything else. The opportunity is most favorable, and when that is the case there can be no great difficulties, provided you follow the course of those whom I have held up to you as examples. Although in their case extraordinary things, without parallel,  were brought about by the hand of God, — the sea divided for their passage, a pillar of cloud pointed their way through the wilderness, the rock poured forth water to assuage their thirst, and it rained manna to appease their hunger, — yet your greatness combines all, and on your own efforts will depend the result. God will not do everything; for that would deprive us of our free will, and of that share of glory which belongs to us.

Nor should we wonder that not one of the Italians whom I have mentioned has been able to accomplish that which it is to be hoped will be done by your illustrious house; for if in so many revolutions in Italy, and in the conduct of so many wars, it would seem that military capacity and valor have become extinct, it is owing to the fact that the old military system was defective, and no one has come forward capable of establishing a new one. And nothing brings a man who has newly risen so much honor as the establishing of new laws and institutions of his own creation; if they have greatness in them and become well established, they will make the prince admired and revered; and there is no lack of opportunity in Italy for the introduction of every kind of reform. The people have great courage, provided it be not wanting in their leaders. Look but at their single combats, and their encounters when there are but a few on either side, and see how superior the Italians have shown themselves in strength, dexterity, and ability. But when it comes to their armies, then these qualities do not appear, because of the incapacity of the chiefs, who cannot enforce obedience from those who are versed in the art of war, and every one believes himself to be so; for up to the present time there have been none so decidedly superior in valor and good fortune that the others yielded him obedience. Thence it comes that in so great a length of time, and in the many wars that have occurred within the past twenty years, the armies, whenever wholly composed of Italians, have given but poor account of themselves. Witness first Taro, then Alessandria, Capua, Genoa, Vaila, Bologna, and Mestri.

If, then, your illustrious house is willing to follow the examples of those distinguished men who have redeemed their countries, you will before anything else, and as the very foundation of every enterprise, have to provide yourself with a national army. And you cannot have more faithful, truer, and better soldiers than the Italians. And whilst each individual is good,  they will become still better when they are all united, and know that they are commanded by their own prince, who will honor and support them. It is necessary, therefore, to provide troops of this kind, so as to be able successfully to oppose Italian valor to the attacks of foreigners.

And although the infantry of the Swiss and of the Spaniards is looked upon as terrible, yet both of them have a defect, which will permit a third organization not only to resist them, but confidently hope to vanquish them. For the Spaniards cannot withstand the shock of cavalry, and the Swiss dread infantry, when they encounter it in battle as obstinate as themselves. Whence we have seen, what further experience will prove more fully, that the Spaniards cannot resist the French cavalry, and that the Swiss succumb to the Spanish infantry. And although we have not yet had a full trial of the latter, yet have we had a fair specimen of it in the battle of Ravenna, where the Spanish infantry confronted the line of battle of the Germans, who have adopted the same system as the Swiss; and where the Spaniards with great agility, and protected by their bucklers, rushed under the pikes of the Germans, and were thus able to attack them securely without the Germans being able to prevent it; and had it not been for the cavalry which fell upon the Spaniards, they might have destroyed the entire German infantry.

Knowing, then, the defects of the one and the other of these systems of infantry, you can organize a new one that shall avoid these defects, and shall be able to resist cavalry as well as infantry. And this is to be done, not by a change of arms, but by an entirely different organization and discipline. This is one of the things which, if successfully introduced, will give fame and greatness to a new prince.

You must not, then, allow this opportunity to pass, so that Italy, after waiting so long, may at last see her deliverer appear. Nor can I possibly express with what affection he would be received in all those provinces that have suffered so long from this inundation of foreign foes! — with what thirst for vengeance, with what persistent faith, with what devotion, and with what tears! What door would be closed to him? Who would refuse him obedience? What envy would dare oppose him? What Italian would refuse him homage? This barbarous dominion of the foreigner offends the very nostrils of everybody!

Let your illustrious house, then, assume this task with that courage and hopefulness which every just enterprise inspires; so that under your banner our country may recover its ancient fame, and under your auspices may be verified the words of Petrarca: —

“Virtù contro al furore

Prenderà l’arme, e fia il combatter corto;

Chè l’antico valore

Negli Italici cuor non è ancor morto.”

Canz. XVI. v. 93-96.

W. K. MARRIOTT TRANSLATION, 1903

CONTENTS

INTRODUCTION

CHAPTER I — HOW MANY KINDS OF PRINCIPALITIES THERE ARE, AND BY WHAT MEANS THEY ARE ACQUIRED

CHAPTER II — CONCERNING HEREDITARY PRINCIPALITIES

CHAPTER III — CONCERNING MIXED PRINCIPALITIES

CHAPTER IV — WHY THE KINGDOM OF DARIUS, CONQUERED BY ALEXANDER, DID NOT REBEL AGAINST THE SUCCESSORS OF ALEXANDER AT HIS DEATH

CHAPTER V — CONCERNING THE WAY TO GOVERN CITIES OR PRINCIPALITIES WHICH LIVED UNDER THEIR OWN LAWS BEFORE THEY WERE ANNEXED

CHAPTER VI — CONCERNING NEW PRINCIPALITIES WHICH ARE ACQUIRED BY ONE’S OWN ARMS AND ABILITY

CHAPTER VII — CONCERNING NEW PRINCIPALITIES WHICH ARE ACQUIRED EITHER BY THE ARMS OF OTHERS OR BY GOOD FORTUNE

CHAPTER VIII — CONCERNING THOSE WHO HAVE OBTAINED A PRINCIPALITY BY WICKEDNESS

CHAPTER IX — CONCERNING A CIVIL PRINCIPALITY

CHAPTER X — CONCERNING THE WAY IN WHICH THE STRENGTH OF ALL PRINCIPALITIES OUGHT TO BE MEASURED

CHAPTER XI — CONCERNING ECCLESIASTICAL PRINCIPALITIES

CHAPTER XII — HOW MANY KINDS OF SOLDIERY THERE ARE, AND CONCERNING MERCENARIES

CHAPTER XIII — CONCERNING AUXILIARIES, MIXED SOLDIERY, AND ONE’S OWN

CHAPTER XIV — THAT WHICH CONCERNS A PRINCE ON THE SUBJECT OF THE ART OF WAR

CHAPTER XV — CONCERNING THINGS FOR WHICH MEN, AND ESPECIALLY PRINCES, ARE PRAISED OR BLAMED

CHAPTER XVI — CONCERNING LIBERALITY AND MEANNESS

CHAPTER XVII — CONCERNING CRUELTY AND CLEMENCY, AND WHETHER IT IS BETTER TO BE LOVED THAN FEARED

CHAPTER XVIII(*) — CONCERNING THE WAY IN WHICH PRINCES SHOULD KEEP FAITH

CHAPTER XIX — THAT ONE SHOULD AVOID BEING DESPISED AND HATED

CHAPTER XX — ARE FORTRESSES, AND MANY OTHER THINGS TO WHICH PRINCES OFTEN RESORT, ADVANTAGEOUS OR HURTFUL?

CHAPTER XXI — HOW A PRINCE SHOULD CONDUCT HIMSELF SO AS TO GAIN RENOWN

CHAPTER XXII — CONCERNING THE SECRETARIES OF PRINCES

CHAPTER XXIII — HOW FLATTERERS SHOULD BE AVOIDED

CHAPTER XXIV — WHY THE PRINCES OF ITALY HAVE LOST THEIR STATES

CHAPTER XXV — WHAT FORTUNE CAN EFFECT IN HUMAN AFFAIRS AND HOW TO WITHSTAND HER

CHAPTER XXVI — AN EXHORTATION TO LIBERATE ITALY FROM THE BARBARIANS

INTRODUCTION

Nicolo Machiavelli was born at Florence on 3rd May 1469. He was the second son of Bernardo di Nicolo Machiavelli, a lawyer of some repute, and of Bartolommea di Stefano Nelli, his wife. Both parents were members of the old Florentine nobility.

His life falls naturally into three periods, each of which singularly enough constitutes a distinct and important era in the history of Florence. His youth was concurrent with the greatness of Florence as an Italian power under the guidance of Lorenzo de’ Medici, Il Magnifico. The downfall of the Medici in Florence occurred in 1494, in which year Machiavelli entered the public service. During his official career Florence was free under the government of a Republic, which lasted until 1512, when the Medici returned to power, and Machiavelli lost his office. The Medici again ruled Florence from 1512 until 1527, when they were once more driven out. This was the period of Machiavelli’s literary activity and increasing influence; but he died, within a few weeks of the expulsion of the Medici, on 22nd June 1527, in his fifty-eighth year, without having regained office.

YOUTH — Aet. 1-25 — 1469-94

Although there is little recorded of the youth of Machiavelli, the Florence of those days is so well known that the early environment of this representative citizen may be easily imagined. Florence has been described as a city with two opposite currents of life, one directed by the fervent and austere Savonarola, the other by the splendour-loving Lorenzo. Savonarola’s influence upon the young Machiavelli must have been slight, for although at one time he wielded immense power over the fortunes of Florence, he only furnished Machiavelli with a subject of a gibe in “The Prince,” where he is cited as an example of an unarmed prophet who came to a bad end. Whereas the magnificence of the Medicean rule during the life of Lorenzo appeared to have impressed Machiavelli strongly, for he frequently recurs to it in his writings, and it is to Lorenzo’s grandson that he dedicates “The Prince.”

Machiavelli, in his “History of Florence,” gives us a picture of the young men among whom his youth was passed. He writes: “They were freer than their forefathers in dress and living, and spent more in other kinds of excesses, consuming their time and money in idleness, gaming, and women; their chief aim was to appear well dressed and to speak with wit and acuteness, whilst he who could wound others the most cleverly was thought the wisest.” In a letter to his son Guido, Machiavelli shows why youth should avail itself of its opportunities for study, and leads us to infer that his own youth had been so occupied. He writes: “I have received your letter, which has given me the greatest pleasure, especially because you tell me you are quite restored in health, than which I could have no better news; for if God grant life to you, and to me, I hope to make a good man of you if you are willing to do your share.” Then, writing of a new patron, he continues: “This will turn out well for you, but it is necessary for you to study; since, then, you have no longer the excuse of illness, take pains to study letters and music, for you see what honour is done to me for the little skill I have. Therefore, my son, if you wish to please me, and to bring success and honour to yourself, do right and study, because others will help you if you help yourself.”

OFFICE — Aet. 25-43 — 1494-1512

The second period of Machiavelli’s life was spent in the service of the free Republic of Florence, which flourished, as stated above, from the expulsion of the Medici in 1494 until their return in 1512. After serving four years in one of the public offices he was appointed Chancellor and Secretary to the Second Chancery, the Ten of Liberty and Peace. Here we are on firm ground when dealing with the events of Machiavelli’s life, for during this time he took a leading part in the affairs of the Republic, and we have its decrees, records, and dispatches to guide us, as well as his own writings. A mere recapitulation of a few of his transactions with the statesmen and soldiers of his time gives a fair indication of his activities, and supplies the sources from which he drew the experiences and characters which illustrate “The Prince.”

His first mission was in 1499 to Catherina Sforza, “my lady of Forli” of “The Prince,” from whose conduct and fate he drew the moral that it is far better to earn the confidence of the people than to rely on fortresses. This is a very noticeable principle in Machiavelli, and is urged by him in many ways as a matter of vital importance to princes.

In 1500 he was sent to France to obtain terms from Louis XII for continuing the war against Pisa: this king it was who, in his conduct of affairs in Italy, committed the five capital errors in statecraft summarized in “The Prince,” and was consequently driven out. He, also, it was who made the dissolution of his marriage a condition of support to Pope Alexander VI; which leads Machiavelli to refer those who urge that such promises should be kept to what he has written concerning the faith of princes.

Machiavelli’s public life was largely occupied with events arising out of the ambitions of Pope Alexander VI and his son, Cesare Borgia, the Duke Valentino, and these characters fill a large space of “The Prince.” Machiavelli never hesitates to cite the actions of the duke for the benefit of usurpers who wish to keep the states they have seized; he can, indeed, find no precepts to offer so good as the pattern of Cesare Borgia’s conduct, insomuch that Cesare is acclaimed by some critics as the “hero” of “The Prince.” Yet in “The Prince” the duke is in point of fact cited as a type of the man who rises on the fortune of others, and falls with them; who takes every course that might be expected from a prudent man but the course which will save him; who is prepared for all eventualities but the one which happens; and who, when all his abilities fail to carry him through, exclaims that it was not his fault, but an extraordinary and unforeseen fatality.

On the death of Pius III, in 1503, Machiavelli was sent to Rome to watch the election of his successor, and there he saw Cesare Borgia cheated into allowing the choice of the College to fall on Giuliano delle Rovere (Julius II), who was one of the cardinals that had most reason to fear the duke. Machiavelli, when commenting on this election, says that he who thinks new favours will cause great personages to forget old injuries deceives himself. Julius did not rest until he had ruined Cesare.

It was to Julius II that Machiavelli was sent in 1506, when that pontiff was commencing his enterprise against Bologna; which he brought to a successful issue, as he did many of his other adventures, owing chiefly to his impetuous character. It is in reference to Pope Julius that Machiavelli moralizes on the resemblance between Fortune and women, and concludes that it is the bold rather than the cautious man that will win and hold them both.

It is impossible to follow here the varying fortunes of the Italian states, which in 1507 were controlled by France, Spain, and Germany, with results that have lasted to our day; we are concerned with those events, and with the three great actors in them, so far only as they impinge on the personality of Machiavelli. He had several meetings with Louis XII of France, and his estimate of that monarch’s character has already been alluded to. Machiavelli has painted Ferdinand of Aragon as the man who accomplished great things under the cloak of religion, but who in reality had no mercy, faith, humanity, or integrity; and who, had he allowed himself to be influenced by such motives, would have been ruined. The Emperor Maximilian was one of the most interesting men of the age, and his character has been drawn by many hands; but Machiavelli, who was an envoy at his court in 1507-8, reveals the secret of his many failures when he describes him as a secretive man, without force of character — ignoring the human agencies necessary to carry his schemes into effect, and never insisting on the fulfilment of his wishes.

The remaining years of Machiavelli’s official career were filled with events arising out of the League of Cambrai, made in 1508 between the three great European powers already mentioned and the pope, with the object of crushing the Venetian Republic. This result was attained in the battle of Vaila, when Venice lost in one day all that she had won in eight hundred years. Florence had a difficult part to play during these events, complicated as they were by the feud which broke out between the pope and the French, because friendship with France had dictated the entire policy of the Republic. When, in 1511, Julius II finally formed the Holy League against France, and with the assistance of the Swiss drove the French out of Italy, Florence lay at the mercy of the Pope, and had to submit to his terms, one of which was that the Medici should be restored. The return of the Medici to Florence on 1st September 1512, and the consequent fall of the Republic, was the signal for the dismissal of Machiavelli and his friends, and thus put an end to his public career, for, as we have seen, he died without regaining office.

LITERATURE AND DEATH — Aet. 43-58 — 1512-27

On the return of the Medici, Machiavelli, who for a few weeks had vainly hoped to retain his office under the new masters of Florence, was dismissed by decree dated 7th November 1512. Shortly after this he was accused of complicity in an abortive conspiracy against the Medici, imprisoned, and put to the question by torture. The new Medicean pope, Leo X, procured his release, and he retired to his small property at San Casciano, near Florence, where he devoted himself to literature. In a letter to Francesco Vettori, dated 13th December 1513, he has left a very interesting description of his life at this period, which elucidates his methods and his motives in writing “The Prince.” After describing his daily occupations with his family and neighbours, he writes: “The evening being come, I return home and go to my study; at the entrance I pull off my peasant-clothes, covered with dust and dirt, and put on my noble court dress, and thus becomingly re-clothed I pass into the ancient courts of the men of old, where, being lovingly received by them, I am fed with that food which is mine alone; where I do not hesitate to speak with them, and to ask for the reason of their actions, and they in their benignity answer me; and for four hours I feel no weariness, I forget every trouble, poverty does not dismay, death does not terrify me; I am possessed entirely by those great men. And because Dante says:

    Knowledge doth come of learning well retained,

    Unfruitful else,

I have noted down what I have gained from their conversation, and have composed a small work on ‘Principalities,’ where I pour myself out as fully as I can in meditation on the subject, discussing what a principality is, what kinds there are, how they can be acquired, how they can be kept, why they are lost: and if any of my fancies ever pleased you, this ought not to displease you: and to a prince, especially to a new one, it should be welcome: therefore I dedicate it to his Magnificence Giuliano. Filippo Casavecchio has seen it; he will be able to tell you what is in it, and of the discourses I have had with him; nevertheless, I am still enriching and polishing it.”

The “little book” suffered many vicissitudes before attaining the form in which it has reached us. Various mental influences were at work during its composition; its title and patron were changed; and for some unknown reason it was finally dedicated to Lorenzo de’ Medici. Although Machiavelli discussed with Casavecchio whether it should be sent or presented in person to the patron, there is no evidence that Lorenzo ever received or even read it: he certainly never gave Machiavelli any employment. Although it was plagiarized during Machiavelli’s lifetime, “The Prince” was never published by him, and its text is still disputable.

Machiavelli concludes his letter to Vettori thus: “And as to this little thing [his book], when it has been read it will be seen that during the fifteen years I have given to the study of statecraft I have neither slept nor idled; and men ought ever to desire to be served by one who has reaped experience at the expense of others. And of my loyalty none could doubt, because having always kept faith I could not now learn how to break it; for he who has been faithful and honest, as I have, cannot change his nature; and my poverty is a witness to my honesty.”

Before Machiavelli had got “The Prince” off his hands he commenced his “Discourse on the First Decade of Titus Livius,” which should be read concurrently with “The Prince.” These and several minor works occupied him until the year 1518, when he accepted a small commission to look after the affairs of some Florentine merchants at Genoa. In 1519 the Medicean rulers of Florence granted a few political concessions to her citizens, and Machiavelli with others was consulted upon a new constitution under which the Great Council was to be restored; but on one pretext or another it was not promulgated.

In 1520 the Florentine merchants again had recourse to Machiavelli to settle their difficulties with Lucca, but this year was chiefly remarkable for his re-entry into Florentine literary society, where he was much sought after, and also for the production of his “Art of War.” It was in the same year that he received a commission at the instance of Cardinal de’ Medici to write the “History of Florence,” a task which occupied him until 1525. His return to popular favour may have determined the Medici to give him this employment, for an old writer observes that “an able statesman out of work, like a huge whale, will endeavour to overturn the ship unless he has an empty cask to play with.”

When the “History of Florence” was finished, Machiavelli took it to Rome for presentation to his patron, Giuliano de’ Medici, who had in the meanwhile become pope under the title of Clement VII. It is somewhat remarkable that, as, in 1513, Machiavelli had written “The Prince” for the instruction of the Medici after they had just regained power in Florence, so, in 1525, he dedicated the “History of Florence” to the head of the family when its ruin was now at hand. In that year the battle of Pavia destroyed the French rule in Italy, and left Francis I a prisoner in the hands of his great rival, Charles V. This was followed by the sack of Rome, upon the news of which the popular party at Florence threw off the yoke of the Medici, who were once more banished.

Machiavelli was absent from Florence at this time, but hastened his return, hoping to secure his former office of secretary to the “Ten of Liberty and Peace.” Unhappily he was taken ill soon after he reached Florence, where he died on 22nd June 1527.

THE MAN AND HIS WORKS

No one can say where the bones of Machiavelli rest, but modern Florence has decreed him a stately cenotaph in Santa Croce, by the side of her most famous sons; recognizing that, whatever other nations may have found in his works, Italy found in them the idea of her unity and the germs of her renaissance among the nations of Europe. Whilst it is idle to protest against the world-wide and evil signification of his name, it may be pointed out that the harsh construction of his doctrine which this sinister reputation implies was unknown to his own day, and that the researches of recent times have enabled us to interpret him more reasonably. It is due to these inquiries that the shape of an “unholy necromancer,” which so long haunted men’s vision, has begun to fade.

Machiavelli was undoubtedly a man of great observation, acuteness, and industry; noting with appreciative eye whatever passed before him, and with his supreme literary gift turning it to account in his enforced retirement from affairs. He does not present himself, nor is he depicted by his contemporaries, as a type of that rare combination, the successful statesman and author, for he appears to have been only moderately prosperous in his several embassies and political employments. He was misled by Catherina Sforza, ignored by Louis XII, overawed by Cesare Borgia; several of his embassies were quite barren of results; his attempts to fortify Florence failed, and the soldiery that he raised astonished everybody by their cowardice. In the conduct of his own affairs he was timid and time-serving; he dared not appear by the side of Soderini, to whom he owed so much, for fear of compromising himself; his connection with the Medici was open to suspicion, and Giuliano appears to have recognized his real forte when he set him to write the “History of Florence,” rather than employ him in the state. And it is on the literary side of his character, and there alone, that we find no weakness and no failure.

Although the light of almost four centuries has been focused on “The Prince,” its problems are still debatable and interesting, because they are the eternal problems between the ruled and their rulers. Such as they are, its ethics are those of Machiavelli’s contemporaries; yet they cannot be said to be out of date so long as the governments of Europe rely on material rather than on moral forces. Its historical incidents and personages become interesting by reason of the uses which Machiavelli makes of them to illustrate his theories of government and conduct.

Leaving out of consideration those maxims of state which still furnish some European and eastern statesmen with principles of action, “The Prince” is bestrewn with truths that can be proved at every turn. Men are still the dupes of their simplicity and greed, as they were in the days of Alexander VI. The cloak of religion still conceals the vices which Machiavelli laid bare in the character of Ferdinand of Aragon. Men will not look at things as they really are, but as they wish them to be — and are ruined. In politics there are no perfectly safe courses; prudence consists in choosing the least dangerous ones. Then — to pass to a higher plane — Machiavelli reiterates that, although crimes may win an empire, they do not win glory. Necessary wars are just wars, and the arms of a nation are hallowed when it has no other resource but to fight.

It is the cry of a far later day than Machiavelli’s that government should be elevated into a living moral force, capable of inspiring the people with a just recognition of the fundamental principles of society; to this “high argument” “The Prince” contributes but little. Machiavelli always refused to write either of men or of governments otherwise than as he found them, and he writes with such skill and insight that his work is of abiding value. But what invests “The Prince” with more than a merely artistic or historical interest is the incontrovertible truth that it deals with the great principles which still guide nations and rulers in their relationship with each other and their neighbours.

In translating “The Prince” my aim has been to achieve at all costs an exact literal rendering of the original, rather than a fluent paraphrase adapted to the modern notions of style and expression. Machiavelli was no facile phrasemonger; the conditions under which he wrote obliged him to weigh every word; his themes were lofty, his substance grave, his manner nobly plain and serious. “Quis eo fuit unquam in partiundis rebus, in definiendis, in explanandis pressior?” In “The Prince,” it may be truly said, there is reason assignable, not only for every word, but for the position of every word. To an Englishman of Shakespeare’s time the translation of such a treatise was in some ways a comparatively easy task, for in those times the genius of the English more nearly resembled that of the Italian language; to the Englishman of to-day it is not so simple. To take a single example: the word “intrattenere,” employed by Machiavelli to indicate the policy adopted by the Roman Senate towards the weaker states of Greece, would by an Elizabethan be correctly rendered “entertain,” and every contemporary reader would understand what was meant by saying that “Rome entertained the Aetolians and the Achaeans without augmenting their power.” But to-day such a phrase would seem obsolete and ambiguous, if not unmeaning: we are compelled to say that “Rome maintained friendly relations with the Aetolians,” etc., using four words to do the work of one. I have tried to preserve the pithy brevity of the Italian so far as was consistent with an absolute fidelity to the sense. If the result be an occasional asperity I can only hope that the reader, in his eagerness to reach the author’s meaning, may overlook the roughness of the road that leads him to it.

The following is a list of the works of Machiavelli:

Principal works. Discorso sopra le cose di Pisa, 1499; Del modo di trattare i popoli della Valdichiana ribellati, 1502; Del modo tenuto dal duca Valentino nell’ ammazzare Vitellozzo Vitelli, Oliverotto da Fermo, etc., 1502; Discorso sopra la provisione del danaro, 1502; Decennale primo (poem in terza rima), 1506; Ritratti delle cose dell’ Alemagna, 1508-12; Decennale secondo, 1509; Ritratti delle cose di Francia, 1510; Discorsi sopra la prima deca di T. Livio, 3 vols., 1512-17; Il Principe, 1513; Andria, comedy translated from Terence, 1513 (?); Mandragola, prose comedy in five acts, with prologue in verse, 1513; Della lingua (dialogue), 1514; Clizia, comedy in prose, 1515 (?); Belfagor arcidiavolo (novel), 1515; Asino d’oro (poem in terza rima), 1517; Dell’ arte della guerra, 1519-20; Discorso sopra il riformare lo stato di Firenze, 1520; Sommario delle cose della citta di Lucca, 1520; Vita di Castruccio Castracani da Lucca, 1520; Istorie fiorentine, 8 books, 1521-5; Frammenti storici, 1525.

Other poems include Sonetti, Canzoni, Ottave, and Canti carnascialeschi.

Editions. Aldo, Venice, 1546; della Tertina, 1550; Cambiagi, Florence, 6 vols., 1782-5; dei Classici, Milan, 10 1813; Silvestri, 9 vols., 1820-2; Passerini, Fanfani, Milanesi, 6 vols. only published, 1873-7.

Minor works. Ed. F. L. Polidori, 1852; Lettere familiari, ed. E. Alvisi, 1883, 2 editions, one with excisions; Credited Writings, ed. G. Canestrini, 1857; Letters to F. Vettori, see A. Ridolfi, Pensieri intorno allo scopo di N. Machiavelli nel libro Il Principe, etc.; D. Ferrara, The Private Correspondence of Nicolo Machiavelli, 1929.

DEDICATION

    To the Magnificent Lorenzo Di Piero De’ Medici:

    Those who strive to obtain the good graces of a prince are

    accustomed to come before him with such things as they hold most

    precious, or in which they see him take most delight; whence one

    often sees horses, arms, cloth of gold, precious stones, and

    similar ornaments presented to princes, worthy of their greatness.

    Desiring therefore to present myself to your Magnificence with

    some testimony of my devotion towards you, I have not found among

    my possessions anything which I hold more dear than, or value so

    much as, the knowledge of the actions of great men, acquired by

    long experience in contemporary affairs, and a continual study of

    antiquity; which, having reflected upon it with great and

    prolonged diligence, I now send, digested into a little volume, to

    your Magnificence.

    And although I may consider this work unworthy of your

    countenance, nevertheless I trust much to your benignity that it

    may be acceptable, seeing that it is not possible for me to make a

    better gift than to offer you the opportunity of understanding in

    the shortest time all that I have learnt in so many years, and

    with so many troubles and dangers; which work I have not

    embellished with swelling or magnificent words, nor stuffed with

    rounded periods, nor with any extrinsic allurements or adornments

    whatever, with which so many are accustomed to embellish their

    works; for I have wished either that no honour should be given it,

    or else that the truth of the matter and the weightiness of the

    theme shall make it acceptable.

    Nor do I hold with those who regard it as a presumption if a man

    of low and humble condition dare to discuss and settle the

    concerns of princes; because, just as those who draw landscapes

    place themselves below in the plain to contemplate the nature of

    the mountains and of lofty places, and in order to contemplate the

    plains place themselves upon high mountains, even so to understand

    the nature of the people it needs to be a prince, and to

    understand that of princes it needs to be of the people.

    Take then, your Magnificence, this little gift in the spirit in

    which I send it; wherein, if it be diligently read and considered

    by you, you will learn my extreme desire that you should attain

    that greatness which fortune and your other attributes promise.

    And if your Magnificence from the summit of your greatness will

    sometimes turn your eyes to these lower regions, you will see how

    unmeritedly I suffer a great and continued malignity of fortune.

CHAPTER I — HOW MANY KINDS OF PRINCIPALITIES THERE ARE, AND BY WHAT MEANS THEY ARE ACQUIRED

All states, all powers, that have held and hold rule over men have been and are either republics or principalities.

Principalities are either hereditary, in which the family has been long established; or they are new.

The new are either entirely new, as was Milan to Francesco Sforza, or they are, as it were, members annexed to the hereditary state of the prince who has acquired them, as was the kingdom of Naples to that of the King of Spain.

Such dominions thus acquired are either accustomed to live under a prince, or to live in freedom; and are acquired either by the arms of the prince himself, or of others, or else by fortune or by ability.

CHAPTER II — CONCERNING HEREDITARY PRINCIPALITIES

I will leave out all discussion on republics, inasmuch as in another place I have written of them at length, and will address myself only to principalities. In doing so I will keep to the order indicated above, and discuss how such principalities are to be ruled and preserved.

I say at once there are fewer difficulties in holding hereditary states, and those long accustomed to the family of their prince, than new ones; for it is sufficient only not to transgress the customs of his ancestors, and to deal prudently with circumstances as they arise, for a prince of average powers to maintain himself in his state, unless he be deprived of it by some extraordinary and excessive force; and if he should be so deprived of it, whenever anything sinister happens to the usurper, he will regain it.

We have in Italy, for example, the Duke of Ferrara, who could not have withstood the attacks of the Venetians in ‘84, nor those of Pope Julius in ‘10, unless he had been long established in his dominions. For the hereditary prince has less cause and less necessity to offend; hence it happens that he will be more loved; and unless extraordinary vices cause him to be hated, it is reasonable to expect that his subjects will be naturally well disposed towards him; and in the antiquity and duration of his rule the memories and motives that make for change are lost, for one change always leaves the toothing for another.

CHAPTER III — CONCERNING MIXED PRINCIPALITIES

But the difficulties occur in a new principality. And firstly, if it be not entirely new, but is, as it were, a member of a state which, taken collectively, may be called composite, the changes arise chiefly from an inherent difficulty which there is in all new principalities; for men change their rulers willingly, hoping to better themselves, and this hope induces them to take up arms against him who rules: wherein they are deceived, because they afterwards find by experience they have gone from bad to worse. This follows also on another natural and common necessity, which always causes a new prince to burden those who have submitted to him with his soldiery and with infinite other hardships which he must put upon his new acquisition.

In this way you have enemies in all those whom you have injured in seizing that principality, and you are not able to keep those friends who put you there because of your not being able to satisfy them in the way they expected, and you cannot take strong measures against them, feeling bound to them. For, although one may be very strong in armed forces, yet in entering a province one has always need of the goodwill of the natives.

For these reasons Louis the Twelfth, King of France, quickly occupied Milan, and as quickly lost it; and to turn him out the first time it only needed Lodovico’s own forces; because those who had opened the gates to him, finding themselves deceived in their hopes of future benefit, would not endure the ill-treatment of the new prince. It is very true that, after acquiring rebellious provinces a second time, they are not so lightly lost afterwards, because the prince, with little reluctance, takes the opportunity of the rebellion to punish the delinquents, to clear out the suspects, and to strengthen himself in the weakest places. Thus to cause France to lose Milan the first time it was enough for the Duke Lodovico(*) to raise insurrections on the borders; but to cause him to lose it a second time it was necessary to bring the whole world against him, and that his armies should be defeated and driven out of Italy; which followed from the causes above mentioned.

    (*) Duke Lodovico was Lodovico Moro, a son of Francesco

    Sforza, who married Beatrice d’Este. He ruled over Milan

    from 1494 to 1500, and died in 1510.

Nevertheless Milan was taken from France both the first and the second time. The general reasons for the first have been discussed; it remains to name those for the second, and to see what resources he had, and what any one in his situation would have had for maintaining himself more securely in his acquisition than did the King of France.

Now I say that those dominions which, when acquired, are added to an ancient state by him who acquires them, are either of the same country and language, or they are not. When they are, it is easier to hold them, especially when they have not been accustomed to self-government; and to hold them securely it is enough to have destroyed the family of the prince who was ruling them; because the two peoples, preserving in other things the old conditions, and not being unlike in customs, will live quietly together, as one has seen in Brittany, Burgundy, Gascony, and Normandy, which have been bound to France for so long a time: and, although there may be some difference in language, nevertheless the customs are alike, and the people will easily be able to get on amongst themselves. He who has annexed them, if he wishes to hold them, has only to bear in mind two considerations: the one, that the family of their former lord is extinguished; the other, that neither their laws nor their taxes are altered, so that in a very short time they will become entirely one body with the old principality.

But when states are acquired in a country differing in language, customs, or laws, there are difficulties, and good fortune and great energy are needed to hold them, and one of the greatest and most real helps would be that he who has acquired them should go and reside there. This would make his position more secure and durable, as it has made that of the Turk in Greece, who, notwithstanding all the other measures taken by him for holding that state, if he had not settled there, would not have been able to keep it. Because, if one is on the spot, disorders are seen as they spring up, and one can quickly remedy them; but if one is not at hand, they are heard of only when they are great, and then one can no longer remedy them. Besides this, the country is not pillaged by your officials; the subjects are satisfied by prompt recourse to the prince; thus, wishing to be good, they have more cause to love him, and wishing to be otherwise, to fear him. He who would attack that state from the outside must have the utmost caution; as long as the prince resides there it can only be wrested from him with the greatest difficulty.

The other and better course is to send colonies to one or two places, which may be as keys to that state, for it is necessary either to do this or else to keep there a great number of cavalry and infantry. A prince does not spend much on colonies, for with little or no expense he can send them out and keep them there, and he offends a minority only of the citizens from whom he takes lands and houses to give them to the new inhabitants; and those whom he offends, remaining poor and scattered, are never able to injure him; whilst the rest being uninjured are easily kept quiet, and at the same time are anxious not to err for fear it should happen to them as it has to those who have been despoiled. In conclusion, I say that these colonies are not costly, they are more faithful, they injure less, and the injured, as has been said, being poor and scattered, cannot hurt. Upon this, one has to remark that men ought either to be well treated or crushed, because they can avenge themselves of lighter injuries, of more serious ones they cannot; therefore the injury that is to be done to a man ought to be of such a kind that one does not stand in fear of revenge.

But in maintaining armed men there in place of colonies one spends much more, having to consume on the garrison all the income from the state, so that the acquisition turns into a loss, and many more are exasperated, because the whole state is injured; through the shifting of the garrison up and down all become acquainted with hardship, and all become hostile, and they are enemies who, whilst beaten on their own ground, are yet able to do hurt. For every reason, therefore, such guards are as useless as a colony is useful.

Again, the prince who holds a country differing in the above respects ought to make himself the head and defender of his less powerful neighbours, and to weaken the more powerful amongst them, taking care that no foreigner as powerful as himself shall, by any accident, get a footing there; for it will always happen that such a one will be introduced by those who are discontented, either through excess of ambition or through fear, as one has seen already. The Romans were brought into Greece by the Aetolians; and in every other country where they obtained a footing they were brought in by the inhabitants. And the usual course of affairs is that, as soon as a powerful foreigner enters a country, all the subject states are drawn to him, moved by the hatred which they feel against the ruling power. So that in respect to those subject states he has not to take any trouble to gain them over to himself, for the whole of them quickly rally to the state which he has acquired there. He has only to take care that they do not get hold of too much power and too much authority, and then with his own forces, and with their goodwill, he can easily keep down the more powerful of them, so as to remain entirely master in the country. And he who does not properly manage this business will soon lose what he has acquired, and whilst he does hold it he will have endless difficulties and troubles.

The Romans, in the countries which they annexed, observed closely these measures; they sent colonies and maintained friendly relations with(*) the minor powers, without increasing their strength; they kept down the greater, and did not allow any strong foreign powers to gain authority. Greece appears to me sufficient for an example. The Achaeans and Aetolians were kept friendly by them, the kingdom of Macedonia was humbled, Antiochus was driven out; yet the merits of the Achaeans and Aetolians never secured for them permission to increase their power, nor did the persuasions of Philip ever induce the Romans to be his friends without first humbling him, nor did the influence of Antiochus make them agree that he should retain any lordship over the country. Because the Romans did in these instances what all prudent princes ought to do, who have to regard not only present troubles, but also future ones, for which they must prepare with every energy, because, when foreseen, it is easy to remedy them; but if you wait until they approach, the medicine is no longer in time because the malady has become incurable; for it happens in this, as the physicians say it happens in hectic fever, that in the beginning of the malady it is easy to cure but difficult to detect, but in the course of time, not having been either detected or treated in the beginning, it becomes easy to detect but difficult to cure. Thus it happens in affairs of state, for when the evils that arise have been foreseen (which it is only given to a wise man to see), they can be quickly redressed, but when, through not having been foreseen, they have been permitted to grow in a way that every one can see them, there is no longer a remedy. Therefore, the Romans, foreseeing troubles, dealt with them at once, and, even to avoid a war, would not let them come to a head, for they knew that war is not to be avoided, but is only to be put off to the advantage of others; moreover they wished to fight with Philip and Antiochus in Greece so as not to have to do it in Italy; they could have avoided both, but this they did not wish; nor did that ever please them which is forever in the mouths of the wise ones of our time: — Let us enjoy the benefits of the time — but rather the benefits of their own valour and prudence, for time drives everything before it, and is able to bring with it good as well as evil, and evil as well as good.

    (*) See remark in the introduction on the word

    “intrattenere.”

But let us turn to France and inquire whether she has done any of the things mentioned. I will speak of Louis(*) (and not of Charles)(+) as the one whose conduct is the better to be observed, he having held possession of Italy for the longest period; and you will see that he has done the opposite to those things which ought to be done to retain a state composed of divers elements.

    (*) Louis XII, King of France, “The Father of the People,”

    born 1462, died 1515.

    (+) Charles VIII, King of France, born 1470, died 1498.

King Louis was brought into Italy by the ambition of the Venetians, who desired to obtain half the state of Lombardy by his intervention. I will not blame the course taken by the king, because, wishing to get a foothold in Italy, and having no friends there — seeing rather that every door was shut to him owing to the conduct of Charles — he was forced to accept those friendships which he could get, and he would have succeeded very quickly in his design if in other matters he had not made some mistakes. The king, however, having acquired Lombardy, regained at once the authority which Charles had lost: Genoa yielded; the Florentines became his friends; the Marquess of Mantua, the Duke of Ferrara, the Bentivogli, my lady of Forli, the Lords of Faenza, of Pesaro, of Rimini, of Camerino, of Piombino, the Lucchese, the Pisans, the Sienese — everybody made advances to him to become his friend. Then could the Venetians realize the rashness of the course taken by them, which, in order that they might secure two towns in Lombardy, had made the king master of two-thirds of Italy.

Let any one now consider with what little difficulty the king could have maintained his position in Italy had he observed the rules above laid down, and kept all his friends secure and protected; for although they were numerous they were both weak and timid, some afraid of the Church, some of the Venetians, and thus they would always have been forced to stand in with him, and by their means he could easily have made himself secure against those who remained powerful. But he was no sooner in Milan than he did the contrary by assisting Pope Alexander to occupy the Romagna. It never occurred to him that by this action he was weakening himself, depriving himself of friends and of those who had thrown themselves into his lap, whilst he aggrandized the Church by adding much temporal power to the spiritual, thus giving it greater authority. And having committed this prime error, he was obliged to follow it up, so much so that, to put an end to the ambition of Alexander, and to prevent his becoming the master of Tuscany, he was himself forced to come into Italy.

And as if it were not enough to have aggrandized the Church, and deprived himself of friends, he, wishing to have the kingdom of Naples, divided it with the King of Spain, and where he was the prime arbiter in Italy he takes an associate, so that the ambitious of that country and the malcontents of his own should have somewhere to shelter; and whereas he could have left in the kingdom his own pensioner as king, he drove him out, to put one there who was able to drive him, Louis, out in turn.

The wish to acquire is in truth very natural and common, and men always do so when they can, and for this they will be praised not blamed; but when they cannot do so, yet wish to do so by any means, then there is folly and blame. Therefore, if France could have attacked Naples with her own forces she ought to have done so; if she could not, then she ought not to have divided it. And if the partition which she made with the Venetians in Lombardy was justified by the excuse that by it she got a foothold in Italy, this other partition merited blame, for it had not the excuse of that necessity.

Therefore Louis made these five errors: he destroyed the minor powers, he increased the strength of one of the greater powers in Italy, he brought in a foreign power, he did not settle in the country, he did not send colonies. Which errors, had he lived, were not enough to injure him had he not made a sixth by taking away their dominions from the Venetians; because, had he not aggrandized the Church, nor brought Spain into Italy, it would have been very reasonable and necessary to humble them; but having first taken these steps, he ought never to have consented to their ruin, for they, being powerful, would always have kept off others from designs on Lombardy, to which the Venetians would never have consented except to become masters themselves there; also because the others would not wish to take Lombardy from France in order to give it to the Venetians, and to run counter to both they would not have had the courage.

And if any one should say: “King Louis yielded the Romagna to Alexander and the kingdom to Spain to avoid war,” I answer for the reasons given above that a blunder ought never to be perpetrated to avoid war, because it is not to be avoided, but is only deferred to your disadvantage. And if another should allege the pledge which the king had given to the Pope that he would assist him in the enterprise, in exchange for the dissolution of his marriage(*) and for the cap to Rouen,(+) to that I reply what I shall write later on concerning the faith of princes, and how it ought to be kept.

    (*) Louis XII divorced his wife, Jeanne, daughter of Louis

    XI, and married in 1499 Anne of Brittany, widow of Charles

    VIII, in order to retain the Duchy of Brittany for the

    crown.

    (+) The Archbishop of Rouen. He was Georges d’Amboise,

    created a cardinal by Alexander VI. Born 1460, died 1510.

Thus King Louis lost Lombardy by not having followed any of the conditions observed by those who have taken possession of countries and wished to retain them. Nor is there any miracle in this, but much that is reasonable and quite natural. And on these matters I spoke at Nantes with Rouen, when Valentino, as Cesare Borgia, the son of Pope Alexander, was usually called, occupied the Romagna, and on Cardinal Rouen observing to me that the Italians did not understand war, I replied to him that the French did not understand statecraft, meaning that otherwise they would not have allowed the Church to reach such greatness. And in fact it has been seen that the greatness of the Church and of Spain in Italy has been caused by France, and her ruin may be attributed to them. From this a general rule is drawn which never or rarely fails: that he who is the cause of another becoming powerful is ruined; because that predominancy has been brought about either by astuteness or else by force, and both are distrusted by him who has been raised to power.

CHAPTER IV — WHY THE KINGDOM OF DARIUS, CONQUERED BY ALEXANDER, DID NOT REBEL AGAINST THE SUCCESSORS OF ALEXANDER AT HIS DEATH

Considering the difficulties which men have had to hold to a newly acquired state, some might wonder how, seeing that Alexander the Great became the master of Asia in a few years, and died whilst it was scarcely settled (whence it might appear reasonable that the whole empire would have rebelled), nevertheless his successors maintained themselves, and had to meet no other difficulty than that which arose among themselves from their own ambitions.

I answer that the principalities of which one has record are found to be governed in two different ways; either by a prince, with a body of servants, who assist him to govern the kingdom as ministers by his favour and permission; or by a prince and barons, who hold that dignity by antiquity of blood and not by the grace of the prince. Such barons have states and their own subjects, who recognize them as lords and hold them in natural affection. Those states that are governed by a prince and his servants hold their prince in more consideration, because in all the country there is no one who is recognized as superior to him, and if they yield obedience to another they do it as to a minister and official, and they do not bear him any particular affection.

The examples of these two governments in our time are the Turk and the King of France. The entire monarchy of the Turk is governed by one lord, the others are his servants; and, dividing his kingdom into sanjaks, he sends there different administrators, and shifts and changes them as he chooses. But the King of France is placed in the midst of an ancient body of lords, acknowledged by their own subjects, and beloved by them; they have their own prerogatives, nor can the king take these away except at his peril. Therefore, he who considers both of these states will recognize great difficulties in seizing the state of the Turk, but, once it is conquered, great ease in holding it. The causes of the difficulties in seizing the kingdom of the Turk are that the usurper cannot be called in by the princes of the kingdom, nor can he hope to be assisted in his designs by the revolt of those whom the lord has around him. This arises from the reasons given above; for his ministers, being all slaves and bondmen, can only be corrupted with great difficulty, and one can expect little advantage from them when they have been corrupted, as they cannot carry the people with them, for the reasons assigned. Hence, he who attacks the Turk must bear in mind that he will find him united, and he will have to rely more on his own strength than on the revolt of others; but, if once the Turk has been conquered, and routed in the field in such a way that he cannot replace his armies, there is nothing to fear but the family of this prince, and, this being exterminated, there remains no one to fear, the others having no credit with the people; and as the conqueror did not rely on them before his victory, so he ought not to fear them after it.

The contrary happens in kingdoms governed like that of France, because one can easily enter there by gaining over some baron of the kingdom, for one always finds malcontents and such as desire a change. Such men, for the reasons given, can open the way into the state and render the victory easy; but if you wish to hold it afterwards, you meet with infinite difficulties, both from those who have assisted you and from those you have crushed. Nor is it enough for you to have exterminated the family of the prince, because the lords that remain make themselves the heads of fresh movements against you, and as you are unable either to satisfy or exterminate them, that state is lost whenever time brings the opportunity.

Now if you will consider what was the nature of the government of Darius, you will find it similar to the kingdom of the Turk, and therefore it was only necessary for Alexander, first to overthrow him in the field, and then to take the country from him. After which victory, Darius being killed, the state remained secure to Alexander, for the above reasons. And if his successors had been united they would have enjoyed it securely and at their ease, for there were no tumults raised in the kingdom except those they provoked themselves.

But it is impossible to hold with such tranquillity states constituted like that of France. Hence arose those frequent rebellions against the Romans in Spain, France, and Greece, owing to the many principalities there were in these states, of which, as long as the memory of them endured, the Romans always held an insecure possession; but with the power and long continuance of the empire the memory of them passed away, and the Romans then became secure possessors. And when fighting afterwards amongst themselves, each one was able to attach to himself his own parts of the country, according to the authority he had assumed there; and the family of the former lord being exterminated, none other than the Romans were acknowledged.

When these things are remembered no one will marvel at the ease with which Alexander held the Empire of Asia, or at the difficulties which others have had to keep an acquisition, such as Pyrrhus and many more; this is not occasioned by the little or abundance of ability in the conqueror, but by the want of uniformity in the subject state.

CHAPTER V — CONCERNING THE WAY TO GOVERN CITIES OR PRINCIPALITIES WHICH LIVED UNDER THEIR OWN LAWS BEFORE THEY WERE ANNEXED

Whenever those states which have been acquired as stated have been accustomed to live under their own laws and in freedom, there are three courses for those who wish to hold them: the first is to ruin them, the next is to reside there in person, the third is to permit them to live under their own laws, drawing a tribute, and establishing within it an oligarchy which will keep it friendly to you. Because such a government, being created by the prince, knows that it cannot stand without his friendship and interest, and does it utmost to support him; and therefore he who would keep a city accustomed to freedom will hold it more easily by the means of its own citizens than in any other way.

There are, for example, the Spartans and the Romans. The Spartans held Athens and Thebes, establishing there an oligarchy, nevertheless they lost them. The Romans, in order to hold Capua, Carthage, and Numantia, dismantled them, and did not lose them. They wished to hold Greece as the Spartans held it, making it free and permitting its laws, and did not succeed. So to hold it they were compelled to dismantle many cities in the country, for in truth there is no safe way to retain them otherwise than by ruining them. And he who becomes master of a city accustomed to freedom and does not destroy it, may expect to be destroyed by it, for in rebellion it has always the watchword of liberty and its ancient privileges as a rallying point, which neither time nor benefits will ever cause it to forget. And whatever you may do or provide against, they never forget that name or their privileges unless they are disunited or dispersed, but at every chance they immediately rally to them, as Pisa after the hundred years she had been held in bondage by the Florentines.

But when cities or countries are accustomed to live under a prince, and his family is exterminated, they, being on the one hand accustomed to obey and on the other hand not having the old prince, cannot agree in making one from amongst themselves, and they do not know how to govern themselves. For this reason they are very slow to take up arms, and a prince can gain them to himself and secure them much more easily. But in republics there is more vitality, greater hatred, and more desire for vengeance, which will never permit them to allow the memory of their former liberty to rest; so that the safest way is to destroy them or to reside there.

CHAPTER VI — CONCERNING NEW PRINCIPALITIES WHICH ARE ACQUIRED BY ONE’S OWN ARMS AND ABILITY

Let no one be surprised if, in speaking of entirely new principalities as I shall do, I adduce the highest examples both of prince and of state; because men, walking almost always in paths beaten by others, and following by imitation their deeds, are yet unable to keep entirely to the ways of others or attain to the power of those they imitate. A wise man ought always to follow the paths beaten by great men, and to imitate those who have been supreme, so that if his ability does not equal theirs, at least it will savour of it. Let him act like the clever archers who, designing to hit the mark which yet appears too far distant, and knowing the limits to which the strength of their bow attains, take aim much higher than the mark, not to reach by their strength or arrow to so great a height, but to be able with the aid of so high an aim to hit the mark they wish to reach.

I say, therefore, that in entirely new principalities, where there is a new prince, more or less difficulty is found in keeping them, accordingly as there is more or less ability in him who has acquired the state. Now, as the fact of becoming a prince from a private station presupposes either ability or fortune, it is clear that one or other of these things will mitigate in some degree many difficulties. Nevertheless, he who has relied least on fortune is established the strongest. Further, it facilitates matters when the prince, having no other state, is compelled to reside there in person.

But to come to those who, by their own ability and not through fortune, have risen to be princes, I say that Moses, Cyrus, Romulus, Theseus, and such like are the most excellent examples. And although one may not discuss Moses, he having been a mere executor of the will of God, yet he ought to be admired, if only for that favour which made him worthy to speak with God. But in considering Cyrus and others who have acquired or founded kingdoms, all will be found admirable; and if their particular deeds and conduct shall be considered, they will not be found inferior to those of Moses, although he had so great a preceptor. And in examining their actions and lives one cannot see that they owed anything to fortune beyond opportunity, which brought them the material to mould into the form which seemed best to them. Without that opportunity their powers of mind would have been extinguished, and without those powers the opportunity would have come in vain.

It was necessary, therefore, to Moses that he should find the people of Israel in Egypt enslaved and oppressed by the Egyptians, in order that they should be disposed to follow him so as to be delivered out of bondage. It was necessary that Romulus should not remain in Alba, and that he should be abandoned at his birth, in order that he should become King of Rome and founder of the fatherland. It was necessary that Cyrus should find the Persians discontented with the government of the Medes, and the Medes soft and effeminate through their long peace. Theseus could not have shown his ability had he not found the Athenians dispersed. These opportunities, therefore, made those men fortunate, and their high ability enabled them to recognize the opportunity whereby their country was ennobled and made famous.

Those who by valorous ways become princes, like these men, acquire a principality with difficulty, but they keep it with ease. The difficulties they have in acquiring it rise in part from the new rules and methods which they are forced to introduce to establish their government and its security. And it ought to be remembered that there is nothing more difficult to take in hand, more perilous to conduct, or more uncertain in its success, than to take the lead in the introduction of a new order of things, because the innovator has for enemies all those who have done well under the old conditions, and lukewarm defenders in those who may do well under the new. This coolness arises partly from fear of the opponents, who have the laws on their side, and partly from the incredulity of men, who do not readily believe in new things until they have had a long experience of them. Thus it happens that whenever those who are hostile have the opportunity to attack they do it like partisans, whilst the others defend lukewarmly, in such wise that the prince is endangered along with them.

It is necessary, therefore, if we desire to discuss this matter thoroughly, to inquire whether these innovators can rely on themselves or have to depend on others: that is to say, whether, to consummate their enterprise, have they to use prayers or can they use force? In the first instance they always succeed badly, and never compass anything; but when they can rely on themselves and use force, then they are rarely endangered. Hence it is that all armed prophets have conquered, and the unarmed ones have been destroyed. Besides the reasons mentioned, the nature of the people is variable, and whilst it is easy to persuade them, it is difficult to fix them in that persuasion. And thus it is necessary to take such measures that, when they believe no longer, it may be possible to make them believe by force.

If Moses, Cyrus, Theseus, and Romulus had been unarmed they could not have enforced their constitutions for long — as happened in our time to Fra Girolamo Savonarola, who was ruined with his new order of things immediately the multitude believed in him no longer, and he had no means of keeping steadfast those who believed or of making the unbelievers to believe. Therefore such as these have great difficulties in consummating their enterprise, for all their dangers are in the ascent, yet with ability they will overcome them; but when these are overcome, and those who envied them their success are exterminated, they will begin to be respected, and they will continue afterwards powerful, secure, honoured, and happy.

To these great examples I wish to add a lesser one; still it bears some resemblance to them, and I wish it to suffice me for all of a like kind: it is Hiero the Syracusan.(*) This man rose from a private station to be Prince of Syracuse, nor did he, either, owe anything to fortune but opportunity; for the Syracusans, being oppressed, chose him for their captain, afterwards he was rewarded by being made their prince. He was of so great ability, even as a private citizen, that one who writes of him says he wanted nothing but a kingdom to be a king. This man abolished the old soldiery, organized the new, gave up old alliances, made new ones; and as he had his own soldiers and allies, on such foundations he was able to build any edifice: thus, whilst he had endured much trouble in acquiring, he had but little in keeping.

    (*) Hiero II, born about 307 B.C., died 216 B.C.

CHAPTER VII — CONCERNING NEW PRINCIPALITIES WHICH ARE ACQUIRED EITHER BY THE ARMS OF OTHERS OR BY GOOD FORTUNE

Those who solely by good fortune become princes from being private citizens have little trouble in rising, but much in keeping atop; they have not any difficulties on the way up, because they fly, but they have many when they reach the summit. Such are those to whom some state is given either for money or by the favour of him who bestows it; as happened to many in Greece, in the cities of Ionia and of the Hellespont, where princes were made by Darius, in order that they might hold the cities both for his security and his glory; as also were those emperors who, by the corruption of the soldiers, from being citizens came to empire. Such stand simply elevated upon the goodwill and the fortune of him who has elevated them — two most inconstant and unstable things. Neither have they the knowledge requisite for the position; because, unless they are men of great worth and ability, it is not reasonable to expect that they should know how to command, having always lived in a private condition; besides, they cannot hold it because they have not forces which they can keep friendly and faithful.

States that rise unexpectedly, then, like all other things in nature which are born and grow rapidly, cannot leave their foundations and correspondencies(*) fixed in such a way that the first storm will not overthrow them; unless, as is said, those who unexpectedly become princes are men of so much ability that they know they have to be prepared at once to hold that which fortune has thrown into their laps, and that those foundations, which others have laid BEFORE they became princes, they must lay AFTERWARDS.

    (*) “Le radici e corrispondenze,” their roots (i.e.

    foundations) and correspondencies or relations with other

    states — a common meaning of “correspondence” and

    “correspondency” in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries.

Concerning these two methods of rising to be a prince by ability or fortune, I wish to adduce two examples within our own recollection, and these are Francesco Sforza(*) and Cesare Borgia. Francesco, by proper means and with great ability, from being a private person rose to be Duke of Milan, and that which he had acquired with a thousand anxieties he kept with little trouble. On the other hand, Cesare Borgia, called by the people Duke Valentino, acquired his state during the ascendancy of his father, and on its decline he lost it, notwithstanding that he had taken every measure and done all that ought to be done by a wise and able man to fix firmly his roots in the states which the arms and fortunes of others had bestowed on him.

    (*) Francesco Sforza, born 1401, died 1466. He married

    Bianca Maria Visconti, a natural daughter of Filippo

    Visconti, the Duke of Milan, on whose death he procured his

    own elevation to the duchy. Machiavelli was the accredited

    agent of the Florentine Republic to Cesare Borgia (1478-

    1507) during the transactions which led up to the

    assassinations of the Orsini and Vitelli at Sinigalia, and

    along with his letters to his chiefs in Florence he has left

    an account, written ten years before “The Prince,” of the

    proceedings of the duke in his “Descritione del modo tenuto

    dal duca Valentino nello ammazzare Vitellozzo Vitelli,”

    etc., a translation of which is appended to the present

    work.

Because, as is stated above, he who has not first laid his foundations may be able with great ability to lay them afterwards, but they will be laid with trouble to the architect and danger to the building. If, therefore, all the steps taken by the duke be considered, it will be seen that he laid solid foundations for his future power, and I do not consider it superfluous to discuss them, because I do not know what better precepts to give a new prince than the example of his actions; and if his dispositions were of no avail, that was not his fault, but the extraordinary and extreme malignity of fortune.

Alexander the Sixth, in wishing to aggrandize the duke, his son, had many immediate and prospective difficulties. Firstly, he did not see his way to make him master of any state that was not a state of the Church; and if he was willing to rob the Church he knew that the Duke of Milan and the Venetians would not consent, because Faenza and Rimini were already under the protection of the Venetians. Besides this, he saw the arms of Italy, especially those by which he might have been assisted, in hands that would fear the aggrandizement of the Pope, namely, the Orsini and the Colonnesi and their following. It behoved him, therefore, to upset this state of affairs and embroil the powers, so as to make himself securely master of part of their states. This was easy for him to do, because he found the Venetians, moved by other reasons, inclined to bring back the French into Italy; he would not only not oppose this, but he would render it more easy by dissolving the former marriage of King Louis. Therefore the king came into Italy with the assistance of the Venetians and the consent of Alexander. He was no sooner in Milan than the Pope had soldiers from him for the attempt on the Romagna, which yielded to him on the reputation of the king. The duke, therefore, having acquired the Romagna and beaten the Colonnesi, while wishing to hold that and to advance further, was hindered by two things: the one, his forces did not appear loyal to him, the other, the goodwill of France: that is to say, he feared that the forces of the Orsini, which he was using, would not stand to him, that not only might they hinder him from winning more, but might themselves seize what he had won, and that the king might also do the same. Of the Orsini he had a warning when, after taking Faenza and attacking Bologna, he saw them go very unwillingly to that attack. And as to the king, he learned his mind when he himself, after taking the Duchy of Urbino, attacked Tuscany, and the king made him desist from that undertaking; hence the duke decided to depend no more upon the arms and the luck of others.

For the first thing he weakened the Orsini and Colonnesi parties in Rome, by gaining to himself all their adherents who were gentlemen, making them his gentlemen, giving them good pay, and, according to their rank, honouring them with office and command in such a way that in a few months all attachment to the factions was destroyed and turned entirely to the duke. After this he awaited an opportunity to crush the Orsini, having scattered the adherents of the Colonna house. This came to him soon and he used it well; for the Orsini, perceiving at length that the aggrandizement of the duke and the Church was ruin to them, called a meeting of the Magione in Perugia. From this sprung the rebellion at Urbino and the tumults in the Romagna, with endless dangers to the duke, all of which he overcame with the help of the French. Having restored his authority, not to leave it at risk by trusting either to the French or other outside forces, he had recourse to his wiles, and he knew so well how to conceal his mind that, by the mediation of Signor Pagolo — whom the duke did not fail to secure with all kinds of attention, giving him money, apparel, and horses — the Orsini were reconciled, so that their simplicity brought them into his power at Sinigalia.(*) Having exterminated the leaders, and turned their partisans into his friends, the duke laid sufficiently good foundations to his power, having all the Romagna and the Duchy of Urbino; and the people now beginning to appreciate their prosperity, he gained them all over to himself. And as this point is worthy of notice, and to be imitated by others, I am not willing to leave it out.

    (*) Sinigalia, 31st December 1502.

When the duke occupied the Romagna he found it under the rule of weak masters, who rather plundered their subjects than ruled them, and gave them more cause for disunion than for union, so that the country was full of robbery, quarrels, and every kind of violence; and so, wishing to bring back peace and obedience to authority, he considered it necessary to give it a good governor. Thereupon he promoted Messer Ramiro d’Orco,(*) a swift and cruel man, to whom he gave the fullest power. This man in a short time restored peace and unity with the greatest success. Afterwards the duke considered that it was not advisable to confer such excessive authority, for he had no doubt but that he would become odious, so he set up a court of judgment in the country, under a most excellent president, wherein all cities had their advocates. And because he knew that the past severity had caused some hatred against himself, so, to clear himself in the minds of the people, and gain them entirely to himself, he desired to show that, if any cruelty had been practised, it had not originated with him, but in the natural sternness of the minister. Under this pretence he took Ramiro, and one morning caused him to be executed and left on the piazza at Cesena with the block and a bloody knife at his side. The barbarity of this spectacle caused the people to be at once satisfied and dismayed.

    (*) Ramiro d’Orco. Ramiro de Lorqua.

But let us return whence we started. I say that the duke, finding himself now sufficiently powerful and partly secured from immediate dangers by having armed himself in his own way, and having in a great measure crushed those forces in his vicinity that could injure him if he wished to proceed with his conquest, had next to consider France, for he knew that the king, who too late was aware of his mistake, would not support him. And from this time he began to seek new alliances and to temporize with France in the expedition which she was making towards the kingdom of Naples against the Spaniards who were besieging Gaeta. It was his intention to secure himself against them, and this he would have quickly accomplished had Alexander lived.

Such was his line of action as to present affairs. But as to the future he had to fear, in the first place, that a new successor to the Church might not be friendly to him and might seek to take from him that which Alexander had given him, so he decided to act in four ways. Firstly, by exterminating the families of those lords whom he had despoiled, so as to take away that pretext from the Pope. Secondly, by winning to himself all the gentlemen of Rome, so as to be able to curb the Pope with their aid, as has been observed. Thirdly, by converting the college more to himself. Fourthly, by acquiring so much power before the Pope should die that he could by his own measures resist the first shock. Of these four things, at the death of Alexander, he had accomplished three. For he had killed as many of the dispossessed lords as he could lay hands on, and few had escaped; he had won over the Roman gentlemen, and he had the most numerous party in the college. And as to any fresh acquisition, he intended to become master of Tuscany, for he already possessed Perugia and Piombino, and Pisa was under his protection. And as he had no longer to study France (for the French were already driven out of the kingdom of Naples by the Spaniards, and in this way both were compelled to buy his goodwill), he pounced down upon Pisa. After this, Lucca and Siena yielded at once, partly through hatred and partly through fear of the Florentines; and the Florentines would have had no remedy had he continued to prosper, as he was prospering the year that Alexander died, for he had acquired so much power and reputation that he would have stood by himself, and no longer have depended on the luck and the forces of others, but solely on his own power and ability.

But Alexander died five years after he had first drawn the sword. He left the duke with the state of Romagna alone consolidated, with the rest in the air, between two most powerful hostile armies, and sick unto death. Yet there were in the duke such boldness and ability, and he knew so well how men are to be won or lost, and so firm were the foundations which in so short a time he had laid, that if he had not had those armies on his back, or if he had been in good health, he would have overcome all difficulties. And it is seen that his foundations were good, for the Romagna awaited him for more than a month. In Rome, although but half alive, he remained secure; and whilst the Baglioni, the Vitelli, and the Orsini might come to Rome, they could not effect anything against him. If he could not have made Pope him whom he wished, at least the one whom he did not wish would not have been elected. But if he had been in sound health at the death of Alexander,(*) everything would have been different to him. On the day that Julius the Second(+) was elected, he told me that he had thought of everything that might occur at the death of his father, and had provided a remedy for all, except that he had never anticipated that, when the death did happen, he himself would be on the point to die.

    (*) Alexander VI died of fever, 18th August 1503.

    (+) Julius II was Giuliano della Rovere, Cardinal of San

    Pietro ad Vincula, born 1443, died 1513.

When all the actions of the duke are recalled, I do not know how to blame him, but rather it appears to be, as I have said, that I ought to offer him for imitation to all those who, by the fortune or the arms of others, are raised to government. Because he, having a lofty spirit and far-reaching aims, could not have regulated his conduct otherwise, and only the shortness of the life of Alexander and his own sickness frustrated his designs. Therefore, he who considers it necessary to secure himself in his new principality, to win friends, to overcome either by force or fraud, to make himself beloved and feared by the people, to be followed and revered by the soldiers, to exterminate those who have power or reason to hurt him, to change the old order of things for new, to be severe and gracious, magnanimous and liberal, to destroy a disloyal soldiery and to create new, to maintain friendship with kings and princes in such a way that they must help him with zeal and offend with caution, cannot find a more lively example than the actions of this man.

Only can he be blamed for the election of Julius the Second, in whom he made a bad choice, because, as is said, not being able to elect a Pope to his own mind, he could have hindered any other from being elected Pope; and he ought never to have consented to the election of any cardinal whom he had injured or who had cause to fear him if they became pontiffs. For men injure either from fear or hatred. Those whom he had injured, amongst others, were San Pietro ad Vincula, Colonna, San Giorgio, and Ascanio.(*) The rest, in becoming Pope, had to fear him, Rouen and the Spaniards excepted; the latter from their relationship and obligations, the former from his influence, the kingdom of France having relations with him. Therefore, above everything, the duke ought to have created a Spaniard Pope, and, failing him, he ought to have consented to Rouen and not San Pietro ad Vincula. He who believes that new benefits will cause great personages to forget old injuries is deceived. Therefore, the duke erred in his choice, and it was the cause of his ultimate ruin.

    (*) San Giorgio is Raffaello Riario. Ascanio is Ascanio

    Sforza.

CHAPTER VIII — CONCERNING THOSE WHO HAVE OBTAINED A PRINCIPALITY BY WICKEDNESS

Although a prince may rise from a private station in two ways, neither of which can be entirely attributed to fortune or genius, yet it is manifest to me that I must not be silent on them, although one could be more copiously treated when I discuss republics. These methods are when, either by some wicked or nefarious ways, one ascends to the principality, or when by the favour of his fellow-citizens a private person becomes the prince of his country. And speaking of the first method, it will be illustrated by two examples — one ancient, the other modern — and without entering further into the subject, I consider these two examples will suffice those who may be compelled to follow them.

Agathocles, the Sicilian,(*) became King of Syracuse not only from a private but from a low and abject position. This man, the son of a potter, through all the changes in his fortunes always led an infamous life. Nevertheless, he accompanied his infamies with so much ability of mind and body that, having devoted himself to the military profession, he rose through its ranks to be Praetor of Syracuse. Being established in that position, and having deliberately resolved to make himself prince and to seize by violence, without obligation to others, that which had been conceded to him by assent, he came to an understanding for this purpose with Amilcar, the Carthaginian, who, with his army, was fighting in Sicily. One morning he assembled the people and the senate of Syracuse, as if he had to discuss with them things relating to the Republic, and at a given signal the soldiers killed all the senators and the richest of the people; these dead, he seized and held the princedom of that city without any civil commotion. And although he was twice routed by the Carthaginians, and ultimately besieged, yet not only was he able to defend his city, but leaving part of his men for its defence, with the others he attacked Africa, and in a short time raised the siege of Syracuse. The Carthaginians, reduced to extreme necessity, were compelled to come to terms with Agathocles, and, leaving Sicily to him, had to be content with the possession of Africa.

    (*) Agathocles the Sicilian, born 361 B.C., died 289 B.C.

Therefore, he who considers the actions and the genius of this man will see nothing, or little, which can be attributed to fortune, inasmuch as he attained pre-eminence, as is shown above, not by the favour of any one, but step by step in the military profession, which steps were gained with a thousand troubles and perils, and were afterwards boldly held by him with many hazardous dangers. Yet it cannot be called talent to slay fellow-citizens, to deceive friends, to be without faith, without mercy, without religion; such methods may gain empire, but not glory. Still, if the courage of Agathocles in entering into and extricating himself from dangers be considered, together with his greatness of mind in enduring and overcoming hardships, it cannot be seen why he should be esteemed less than the most notable captain. Nevertheless, his barbarous cruelty and inhumanity with infinite wickedness do not permit him to be celebrated among the most excellent men. What he achieved cannot be attributed either to fortune or genius.

In our times, during the rule of Alexander the Sixth, Oliverotto da Fermo, having been left an orphan many years before, was brought up by his maternal uncle, Giovanni Fogliani, and in the early days of his youth sent to fight under Pagolo Vitelli, that, being trained under his discipline, he might attain some high position in the military profession. After Pagolo died, he fought under his brother Vitellozzo, and in a very short time, being endowed with wit and a vigorous body and mind, he became the first man in his profession. But it appearing a paltry thing to serve under others, he resolved, with the aid of some citizens of Fermo, to whom the slavery of their country was dearer than its liberty, and with the help of the Vitelleschi, to seize Fermo. So he wrote to Giovanni Fogliani that, having been away from home for many years, he wished to visit him and his city, and in some measure to look upon his patrimony; and although he had not laboured to acquire anything except honour, yet, in order that the citizens should see he had not spent his time in vain, he desired to come honourably, so would be accompanied by one hundred horsemen, his friends and retainers; and he entreated Giovanni to arrange that he should be received honourably by the Fermians, all of which would be not only to his honour, but also to that of Giovanni himself, who had brought him up.

Giovanni, therefore, did not fail in any attentions due to his nephew, and he caused him to be honourably received by the Fermians, and he lodged him in his own house, where, having passed some days, and having arranged what was necessary for his wicked designs, Oliverotto gave a solemn banquet to which he invited Giovanni Fogliani and the chiefs of Fermo. When the viands and all the other entertainments that are usual in such banquets were finished, Oliverotto artfully began certain grave discourses, speaking of the greatness of Pope Alexander and his son Cesare, and of their enterprises, to which discourse Giovanni and others answered; but he rose at once, saying that such matters ought to be discussed in a more private place, and he betook himself to a chamber, whither Giovanni and the rest of the citizens went in after him. No sooner were they seated than soldiers issued from secret places and slaughtered Giovanni and the rest. After these murders Oliverotto, mounted on horseback, rode up and down the town and besieged the chief magistrate in the palace, so that in fear the people were forced to obey him, and to form a government, of which he made himself the prince. He killed all the malcontents who were able to injure him, and strengthened himself with new civil and military ordinances, in such a way that, in the year during which he held the principality, not only was he secure in the city of Fermo, but he had become formidable to all his neighbours. And his destruction would have been as difficult as that of Agathocles if he had not allowed himself to be overreached by Cesare Borgia, who took him with the Orsini and Vitelli at Sinigalia, as was stated above. Thus one year after he had committed this parricide, he was strangled, together with Vitellozzo, whom he had made his leader in valour and wickedness.

Some may wonder how it can happen that Agathocles, and his like, after infinite treacheries and cruelties, should live for long secure in his country, and defend himself from external enemies, and never be conspired against by his own citizens; seeing that many others, by means of cruelty, have never been able even in peaceful times to hold the state, still less in the doubtful times of war. I believe that this follows from severities(*) being badly or properly used. Those may be called properly used, if of evil it is possible to speak well, that are applied at one blow and are necessary to one’s security, and that are not persisted in afterwards unless they can be turned to the advantage of the subjects. The badly employed are those which, notwithstanding they may be few in the commencement, multiply with time rather than decrease. Those who practise the first system are able, by aid of God or man, to mitigate in some degree their rule, as Agathocles did. It is impossible for those who follow the other to maintain themselves.

    (*) Mr Burd suggests that this word probably comes near the

    modern equivalent of Machiavelli’s thought when he speaks of

    “crudelta” than the more obvious “cruelties.”

Hence it is to be remarked that, in seizing a state, the usurper ought to examine closely into all those injuries which it is necessary for him to inflict, and to do them all at one stroke so as not to have to repeat them daily; and thus by not unsettling men he will be able to reassure them, and win them to himself by benefits. He who does otherwise, either from timidity or evil advice, is always compelled to keep the knife in his hand; neither can he rely on his subjects, nor can they attach themselves to him, owing to their continued and repeated wrongs. For injuries ought to be done all at one time, so that, being tasted less, they offend less; benefits ought to be given little by little, so that the flavour of them may last longer.

And above all things, a prince ought to live amongst his people in such a way that no unexpected circumstances, whether of good or evil, shall make him change; because if the necessity for this comes in troubled times, you are too late for harsh measures; and mild ones will not help you, for they will be considered as forced from you, and no one will be under any obligation to you for them.

CHAPTER IX — CONCERNING A CIVIL PRINCIPALITY

But coming to the other point — where a leading citizen becomes the prince of his country, not by wickedness or any intolerable violence, but by the favour of his fellow citizens — this may be called a civil principality: nor is genius or fortune altogether necessary to attain to it, but rather a happy shrewdness. I say then that such a principality is obtained either by the favour of the people or by the favour of the nobles. Because in all cities these two distinct parties are found, and from this it arises that the people do not wish to be ruled nor oppressed by the nobles, and the nobles wish to rule and oppress the people; and from these two opposite desires there arises in cities one of three results, either a principality, self-government, or anarchy.

A principality is created either by the people or by the nobles, accordingly as one or other of them has the opportunity; for the nobles, seeing they cannot withstand the people, begin to cry up the reputation of one of themselves, and they make him a prince, so that under his shadow they can give vent to their ambitions. The people, finding they cannot resist the nobles, also cry up the reputation of one of themselves, and make him a prince so as to be defended by his authority. He who obtains sovereignty by the assistance of the nobles maintains himself with more difficulty than he who comes to it by the aid of the people, because the former finds himself with many around him who consider themselves his equals, and because of this he can neither rule nor manage them to his liking. But he who reaches sovereignty by popular favour finds himself alone, and has none around him, or few, who are not prepared to obey him.

Besides this, one cannot by fair dealing, and without injury to others, satisfy the nobles, but you can satisfy the people, for their object is more righteous than that of the nobles, the latter wishing to oppress, while the former only desire not to be oppressed. It is to be added also that a prince can never secure himself against a hostile people, because of their being too many, whilst from the nobles he can secure himself, as they are few in number. The worst that a prince may expect from a hostile people is to be abandoned by them; but from hostile nobles he has not only to fear abandonment, but also that they will rise against him; for they, being in these affairs more far-seeing and astute, always come forward in time to save themselves, and to obtain favours from him whom they expect to prevail. Further, the prince is compelled to live always with the same people, but he can do well without the same nobles, being able to make and unmake them daily, and to give or take away authority when it pleases him.

Therefore, to make this point clearer, I say that the nobles ought to be looked at mainly in two ways: that is to say, they either shape their course in such a way as binds them entirely to your fortune, or they do not. Those who so bind themselves, and are not rapacious, ought to be honoured and loved; those who do not bind themselves may be dealt with in two ways; they may fail to do this through pusillanimity and a natural want of courage, in which case you ought to make use of them, especially of those who are of good counsel; and thus, whilst in prosperity you honour them, in adversity you do not have to fear them. But when for their own ambitious ends they shun binding themselves, it is a token that they are giving more thought to themselves than to you, and a prince ought to guard against such, and to fear them as if they were open enemies, because in adversity they always help to ruin him.

Therefore, one who becomes a prince through the favour of the people ought to keep them friendly, and this he can easily do seeing they only ask not to be oppressed by him. But one who, in opposition to the people, becomes a prince by the favour of the nobles, ought, above everything, to seek to win the people over to himself, and this he may easily do if he takes them under his protection. Because men, when they receive good from him of whom they were expecting evil, are bound more closely to their benefactor; thus the people quickly become more devoted to him than if he had been raised to the principality by their favours; and the prince can win their affections in many ways, but as these vary according to the circumstances one cannot give fixed rules, so I omit them; but, I repeat, it is necessary for a prince to have the people friendly, otherwise he has no security in adversity.

Nabis,(*) Prince of the Spartans, sustained the attack of all Greece, and of a victorious Roman army, and against them he defended his country and his government; and for the overcoming of this peril it was only necessary for him to make himself secure against a few, but this would not have been sufficient had the people been hostile. And do not let any one impugn this statement with the trite proverb that “He who builds on the people, builds on the mud,” for this is true when a private citizen makes a foundation there, and persuades himself that the people will free him when he is oppressed by his enemies or by the magistrates; wherein he would find himself very often deceived, as happened to the Gracchi in Rome and to Messer Giorgio Scali(+) in Florence. But granted a prince who has established himself as above, who can command, and is a man of courage, undismayed in adversity, who does not fail in other qualifications, and who, by his resolution and energy, keeps the whole people encouraged — such a one will never find himself deceived in them, and it will be shown that he has laid his foundations well.

    (*) Nabis, tyrant of Sparta, conquered by the Romans under

    Flamininus in 195 B.C.; killed 192 B.C.

    (+) Messer Giorgio Scali. This event is to be found in

    Machiavelli’s “Florentine History,” Book III.

These principalities are liable to danger when they are passing from the civil to the absolute order of government, for such princes either rule personally or through magistrates. In the latter case their government is weaker and more insecure, because it rests entirely on the goodwill of those citizens who are raised to the magistracy, and who, especially in troubled times, can destroy the government with great ease, either by intrigue or open defiance; and the prince has not the chance amid tumults to exercise absolute authority, because the citizens and subjects, accustomed to receive orders from magistrates, are not of a mind to obey him amid these confusions, and there will always be in doubtful times a scarcity of men whom he can trust. For such a prince cannot rely upon what he observes in quiet times, when citizens have need of the state, because then every one agrees with him; they all promise, and when death is far distant they all wish to die for him; but in troubled times, when the state has need of its citizens, then he finds but few. And so much the more is this experiment dangerous, inasmuch as it can only be tried once. Therefore a wise prince ought to adopt such a course that his citizens will always in every sort and kind of circumstance have need of the state and of him, and then he will always find them faithful.

CHAPTER X — CONCERNING THE WAY IN WHICH THE STRENGTH OF ALL PRINCIPALITIES OUGHT TO BE MEASURED

It is necessary to consider another point in examining the character of these principalities: that is, whether a prince has such power that, in case of need, he can support himself with his own resources, or whether he has always need of the assistance of others. And to make this quite clear I say that I consider those who are able to support themselves by their own resources who can, either by abundance of men or money, raise a sufficient army to join battle against any one who comes to attack them; and I consider those always to have need of others who cannot show themselves against the enemy in the field, but are forced to defend themselves by sheltering behind walls. The first case has been discussed, but we will speak of it again should it recur. In the second case one can say nothing except to encourage such princes to provision and fortify their towns, and not on any account to defend the country. And whoever shall fortify his town well, and shall have managed the other concerns of his subjects in the way stated above, and to be often repeated, will never be attacked without great caution, for men are always adverse to enterprises where difficulties can be seen, and it will be seen not to be an easy thing to attack one who has his town well fortified, and is not hated by his people.

The cities of Germany are absolutely free, they own but little country around them, and they yield obedience to the emperor when it suits them, nor do they fear this or any other power they may have near them, because they are fortified in such a way that every one thinks the taking of them by assault would be tedious and difficult, seeing they have proper ditches and walls, they have sufficient artillery, and they always keep in public depots enough for one year’s eating, drinking, and firing. And beyond this, to keep the people quiet and without loss to the state, they always have the means of giving work to the community in those labours that are the life and strength of the city, and on the pursuit of which the people are supported; they also hold military exercises in repute, and moreover have many ordinances to uphold them.

Therefore, a prince who has a strong city, and had not made himself odious, will not be attacked, or if any one should attack he will only be driven off with disgrace; again, because that the affairs of this world are so changeable, it is almost impossible to keep an army a whole year in the field without being interfered with. And whoever should reply: If the people have property outside the city, and see it burnt, they will not remain patient, and the long siege and self-interest will make them forget their prince; to this I answer that a powerful and courageous prince will overcome all such difficulties by giving at one time hope to his subjects that the evil will not be for long, at another time fear of the cruelty of the enemy, then preserving himself adroitly from those subjects who seem to him to be too bold.

Further, the enemy would naturally on his arrival at once burn and ruin the country at the time when the spirits of the people are still hot and ready for the defence; and, therefore, so much the less ought the prince to hesitate; because after a time, when spirits have cooled, the damage is already done, the ills are incurred, and there is no longer any remedy; and therefore they are so much the more ready to unite with their prince, he appearing to be under obligations to them now that their houses have been burnt and their possessions ruined in his defence. For it is the nature of men to be bound by the benefits they confer as much as by those they receive. Therefore, if everything is well considered, it will not be difficult for a wise prince to keep the minds of his citizens steadfast from first to last, when he does not fail to support and defend them.

CHAPTER XI — CONCERNING ECCLESIASTICAL PRINCIPALITIES

It only remains now to speak of ecclesiastical principalities, touching which all difficulties are prior to getting possession, because they are acquired either by capacity or good fortune, and they can be held without either; for they are sustained by the ancient ordinances of religion, which are so all-powerful, and of such a character that the principalities may be held no matter how their princes behave and live. These princes alone have states and do not defend them; and they have subjects and do not rule them; and the states, although unguarded, are not taken from them, and the subjects, although not ruled, do not care, and they have neither the desire nor the ability to alienate themselves. Such principalities only are secure and happy. But being upheld by powers, to which the human mind cannot reach, I shall speak no more of them, because, being exalted and maintained by God, it would be the act of a presumptuous and rash man to discuss them.

Nevertheless, if any one should ask of me how comes it that the Church has attained such greatness in temporal power, seeing that from Alexander backwards the Italian potentates (not only those who have been called potentates, but every baron and lord, though the smallest) have valued the temporal power very slightly — yet now a king of France trembles before it, and it has been able to drive him from Italy, and to ruin the Venetians — although this may be very manifest, it does not appear to me superfluous to recall it in some measure to memory.

Before Charles, King of France, passed into Italy,(*) this country was under the dominion of the Pope, the Venetians, the King of Naples, the Duke of Milan, and the Florentines. These potentates had two principal anxieties: the one, that no foreigner should enter Italy under arms; the other, that none of themselves should seize more territory. Those about whom there was the most anxiety were the Pope and the Venetians. To restrain the Venetians the union of all the others was necessary, as it was for the defence of Ferrara; and to keep down the Pope they made use of the barons of Rome, who, being divided into two factions, Orsini and Colonnesi, had always a pretext for disorder, and, standing with arms in their hands under the eyes of the Pontiff, kept the pontificate weak and powerless. And although there might arise sometimes a courageous pope, such as Sixtus, yet neither fortune nor wisdom could rid him of these annoyances. And the short life of a pope is also a cause of weakness; for in the ten years, which is the average life of a pope, he can with difficulty lower one of the factions; and if, so to speak, one people should almost destroy the Colonnesi, another would arise hostile to the Orsini, who would support their opponents, and yet would not have time to ruin the Orsini. This was the reason why the temporal powers of the pope were little esteemed in Italy.

    (*) Charles VIII invaded Italy in 1494.

Alexander the Sixth arose afterwards, who of all the pontiffs that have ever been showed how a pope with both money and arms was able to prevail; and through the instrumentality of the Duke Valentino, and by reason of the entry of the French, he brought about all those things which I have discussed above in the actions of the duke. And although his intention was not to aggrandize the Church, but the duke, nevertheless, what he did contributed to the greatness of the Church, which, after his death and the ruin of the duke, became the heir to all his labours.

Pope Julius came afterwards and found the Church strong, possessing all the Romagna, the barons of Rome reduced to impotence, and, through the chastisements of Alexander, the factions wiped out; he also found the way open to accumulate money in a manner such as had never been practised before Alexander’s time. Such things Julius not only followed, but improved upon, and he intended to gain Bologna, to ruin the Venetians, and to drive the French out of Italy. All of these enterprises prospered with him, and so much the more to his credit, inasmuch as he did everything to strengthen the Church and not any private person. He kept also the Orsini and Colonnesi factions within the bounds in which he found them; and although there was among them some mind to make disturbance, nevertheless he held two things firm: the one, the greatness of the Church, with which he terrified them; and the other, not allowing them to have their own cardinals, who caused the disorders among them. For whenever these factions have their cardinals they do not remain quiet for long, because cardinals foster the factions in Rome and out of it, and the barons are compelled to support them, and thus from the ambitions of prelates arise disorders and tumults among the barons. For these reasons his Holiness Pope Leo(*) found the pontificate most powerful, and it is to be hoped that, if others made it great in arms, he will make it still greater and more venerated by his goodness and infinite other virtues.

    (*) Pope Leo X was the Cardinal de’ Medici.

CHAPTER XII — HOW MANY KINDS OF SOLDIERY THERE ARE, AND CONCERNING MERCENARIES

Having discoursed particularly on the characteristics of such principalities as in the beginning I proposed to discuss, and having considered in some degree the causes of their being good or bad, and having shown the methods by which many have sought to acquire them and to hold them, it now remains for me to discuss generally the means of offence and defence which belong to each of them.

We have seen above how necessary it is for a prince to have his foundations well laid, otherwise it follows of necessity he will go to ruin. The chief foundations of all states, new as well as old or composite, are good laws and good arms; and as there cannot be good laws where the state is not well armed, it follows that where they are well armed they have good laws. I shall leave the laws out of the discussion and shall speak of the arms.

I say, therefore, that the arms with which a prince defends his state are either his own, or they are mercenaries, auxiliaries, or mixed. Mercenaries and auxiliaries are useless and dangerous; and if one holds his state based on these arms, he will stand neither firm nor safe; for they are disunited, ambitious, and without discipline, unfaithful, valiant before friends, cowardly before enemies; they have neither the fear of God nor fidelity to men, and destruction is deferred only so long as the attack is; for in peace one is robbed by them, and in war by the enemy. The fact is, they have no other attraction or reason for keeping the field than a trifle of stipend, which is not sufficient to make them willing to die for you. They are ready enough to be your soldiers whilst you do not make war, but if war comes they take themselves off or run from the foe; which I should have little trouble to prove, for the ruin of Italy has been caused by nothing else than by resting all her hopes for many years on mercenaries, and although they formerly made some display and appeared valiant amongst themselves, yet when the foreigners came they showed what they were. Thus it was that Charles, King of France, was allowed to seize Italy with chalk in hand;(*) and he who told us that our sins were the cause of it told the truth, but they were not the sins he imagined, but those which I have related. And as they were the sins of princes, it is the princes who have also suffered the penalty.

    (*) “With chalk in hand,” “col gesso.” This is one of the

    bons mots of Alexander VI, and refers to the ease with

    which Charles VIII seized Italy, implying that it was only

    necessary for him to send his quartermasters to chalk up the

    billets for his soldiers to conquer the country. Cf. “The

    History of Henry VII,” by Lord Bacon: “King Charles had

    conquered the realm of Naples, and lost it again, in a kind

    of a felicity of a dream. He passed the whole length of

    Italy without resistance: so that it was true what Pope

    Alexander was wont to say: That the Frenchmen came into

    Italy with chalk in their hands, to mark up their lodgings,

    rather than with swords to fight.”

I wish to demonstrate further the infelicity of these arms. The mercenary captains are either capable men or they are not; if they are, you cannot trust them, because they always aspire to their own greatness, either by oppressing you, who are their master, or others contrary to your intentions; but if the captain is not skilful, you are ruined in the usual way.

And if it be urged that whoever is armed will act in the same way, whether mercenary or not, I reply that when arms have to be resorted to, either by a prince or a republic, then the prince ought to go in person and perform the duty of a captain; the republic has to send its citizens, and when one is sent who does not turn out satisfactorily, it ought to recall him, and when one is worthy, to hold him by the laws so that he does not leave the command. And experience has shown princes and republics, single-handed, making the greatest progress, and mercenaries doing nothing except damage; and it is more difficult to bring a republic, armed with its own arms, under the sway of one of its citizens than it is to bring one armed with foreign arms. Rome and Sparta stood for many ages armed and free. The Switzers are completely armed and quite free.

Of ancient mercenaries, for example, there are the Carthaginians, who were oppressed by their mercenary soldiers after the first war with the Romans, although the Carthaginians had their own citizens for captains. After the death of Epaminondas, Philip of Macedon was made captain of their soldiers by the Thebans, and after victory he took away their liberty.

Duke Filippo being dead, the Milanese enlisted Francesco Sforza against the Venetians, and he, having overcome the enemy at Caravaggio,(*) allied himself with them to crush the Milanese, his masters. His father, Sforza, having been engaged by Queen Johanna(+) of Naples, left her unprotected, so that she was forced to throw herself into the arms of the King of Aragon, in order to save her kingdom. And if the Venetians and Florentines formerly extended their dominions by these arms, and yet their captains did not make themselves princes, but have defended them, I reply that the Florentines in this case have been favoured by chance, for of the able captains, of whom they might have stood in fear, some have not conquered, some have been opposed, and others have turned their ambitions elsewhere. One who did not conquer was Giovanni Acuto,(%) and since he did not conquer his fidelity cannot be proved; but every one will acknowledge that, had he conquered, the Florentines would have stood at his discretion. Sforza had the Bracceschi always against him, so they watched each other. Francesco turned his ambition to Lombardy; Braccio against the Church and the kingdom of Naples. But let us come to that which happened a short while ago. The Florentines appointed as their captain Pagolo Vitelli, a most prudent man, who from a private position had risen to the greatest renown. If this man had taken Pisa, nobody can deny that it would have been proper for the Florentines to keep in with him, for if he became the soldier of their enemies they had no means of resisting, and if they held to him they must obey him. The Venetians, if their achievements are considered, will be seen to have acted safely and gloriously so long as they sent to war their own men, when with armed gentlemen and plebians they did valiantly. This was before they turned to enterprises on land, but when they began to fight on land they forsook this virtue and followed the custom of Italy. And in the beginning of their expansion on land, through not having much territory, and because of their great reputation, they had not much to fear from their captains; but when they expanded, as under Carmignuola,(#) they had a taste of this mistake; for, having found him a most valiant man (they beat the Duke of Milan under his leadership), and, on the other hand, knowing how lukewarm he was in the war, they feared they would no longer conquer under him, and for this reason they were not willing, nor were they able, to let him go; and so, not to lose again that which they had acquired, they were compelled, in order to secure themselves, to murder him. They had afterwards for their captains Bartolomeo da Bergamo, Roberto da San Severino, the count of Pitigliano,(&) and the like, under whom they had to dread loss and not gain, as happened afterwards at Vaila,($) where in one battle they lost that which in eight hundred years they had acquired with so much trouble. Because from such arms conquests come but slowly, long delayed and inconsiderable, but the losses sudden and portentous.

    (*) Battle of Caravaggio, 15th September 1448.

    (+) Johanna II of Naples, the widow of Ladislao, King of

    Naples.

    (%) Giovanni Acuto. An English knight whose name was Sir

    John Hawkwood. He fought in the English wars in France, and

    was knighted by Edward III; afterwards he collected a body

    of troops and went into Italy. These became the famous

    “White Company.” He took part in many wars, and died in

    Florence in 1394. He was born about 1320 at Sible Hedingham,

    a village in Essex. He married Domnia, a daughter of Bernabo

    Visconti.

    (#) Carmignuola. Francesco Bussone, born at Carmagnola about

    1390, executed at Venice, 5th May 1432.

    (&) Bartolomeo Colleoni of Bergamo; died 1457. Roberto of

    San Severino; died fighting for Venice against Sigismund,

    Duke of Austria, in 1487. “Primo capitano in Italia.” —

    Machiavelli. Count of Pitigliano; Nicolo Orsini, born 1442,

    died 1510.

    ($) Battle of Vaila in 1509.

And as with these examples I have reached Italy, which has been ruled for many years by mercenaries, I wish to discuss them more seriously, in order that, having seen their rise and progress, one may be better prepared to counteract them. You must understand that the empire has recently come to be repudiated in Italy, that the Pope has acquired more temporal power, and that Italy has been divided up into more states, for the reason that many of the great cities took up arms against their nobles, who, formerly favoured by the emperor, were oppressing them, whilst the Church was favouring them so as to gain authority in temporal power: in many others their citizens became princes. From this it came to pass that Italy fell partly into the hands of the Church and of republics, and, the Church consisting of priests and the republic of citizens unaccustomed to arms, both commenced to enlist foreigners.

The first who gave renown to this soldiery was Alberigo da Conio,(*) the Romagnian. From the school of this man sprang, among others, Braccio and Sforza, who in their time were the arbiters of Italy. After these came all the other captains who till now have directed the arms of Italy; and the end of all their valour has been, that she has been overrun by Charles, robbed by Louis, ravaged by Ferdinand, and insulted by the Switzers. The principle that has guided them has been, first, to lower the credit of infantry so that they might increase their own. They did this because, subsisting on their pay and without territory, they were unable to support many soldiers, and a few infantry did not give them any authority; so they were led to employ cavalry, with a moderate force of which they were maintained and honoured; and affairs were brought to such a pass that, in an army of twenty thousand soldiers, there were not to be found two thousand foot soldiers. They had, besides this, used every art to lessen fatigue and danger to themselves and their soldiers, not killing in the fray, but taking prisoners and liberating without ransom. They did not attack towns at night, nor did the garrisons of the towns attack encampments at night; they did not surround the camp either with stockade or ditch, nor did they campaign in the winter. All these things were permitted by their military rules, and devised by them to avoid, as I have said, both fatigue and dangers; thus they have brought Italy to slavery and contempt.

    (*) Alberigo da Conio. Alberico da Barbiano, Count of Cunio

    in Romagna. He was the leader of the famous “Company of St

    George,” composed entirely of Italian soldiers. He died in

    1409.

CHAPTER XIII — CONCERNING AUXILIARIES, MIXED SOLDIERY, AND ONE’S OWN

Auxiliaries, which are the other useless arm, are employed when a prince is called in with his forces to aid and defend, as was done by Pope Julius in the most recent times; for he, having, in the enterprise against Ferrara, had poor proof of his mercenaries, turned to auxiliaries, and stipulated with Ferdinand, King of Spain,(*) for his assistance with men and arms. These arms may be useful and good in themselves, but for him who calls them in they are always disadvantageous; for losing, one is undone, and winning, one is their captive.

    (*) Ferdinand V (F. II of Aragon and Sicily, F. III of

    Naples), surnamed “The Catholic,” born 1452, died 1516.

And although ancient histories may be full of examples, I do not wish to leave this recent one of Pope Julius the Second, the peril of which cannot fail to be perceived; for he, wishing to get Ferrara, threw himself entirely into the hands of the foreigner. But his good fortune brought about a third event, so that he did not reap the fruit of his rash choice; because, having his auxiliaries routed at Ravenna, and the Switzers having risen and driven out the conquerors (against all expectation, both his and others), it so came to pass that he did not become prisoner to his enemies, they having fled, nor to his auxiliaries, he having conquered by other arms than theirs.

The Florentines, being entirely without arms, sent ten thousand Frenchmen to take Pisa, whereby they ran more danger than at any other time of their troubles.

The Emperor of Constantinople,(*) to oppose his neighbours, sent ten thousand Turks into Greece, who, on the war being finished, were not willing to quit; this was the beginning of the servitude of Greece to the infidels.

    (*) Joannes Cantacuzenus, born 1300, died 1383.

Therefore, let him who has no desire to conquer make use of these arms, for they are much more hazardous than mercenaries, because with them the ruin is ready made; they are all united, all yield obedience to others; but with mercenaries, when they have conquered, more time and better opportunities are needed to injure you; they are not all of one community, they are found and paid by you, and a third party, which you have made their head, is not able all at once to assume enough authority to injure you. In conclusion, in mercenaries dastardy is most dangerous; in auxiliaries, valour. The wise prince, therefore, has always avoided these arms and turned to his own; and has been willing rather to lose with them than to conquer with the others, not deeming that a real victory which is gained with the arms of others.

I shall never hesitate to cite Cesare Borgia and his actions. This duke entered the Romagna with auxiliaries, taking there only French soldiers, and with them he captured Imola and Forli; but afterwards, such forces not appearing to him reliable, he turned to mercenaries, discerning less danger in them, and enlisted the Orsini and Vitelli; whom presently, on handling and finding them doubtful, unfaithful, and dangerous, he destroyed and turned to his own men. And the difference between one and the other of these forces can easily be seen when one considers the difference there was in the reputation of the duke, when he had the French, when he had the Orsini and Vitelli, and when he relied on his own soldiers, on whose fidelity he could always count and found it ever increasing; he was never esteemed more highly than when every one saw that he was complete master of his own forces.

I was not intending to go beyond Italian and recent examples, but I am unwilling to leave out Hiero, the Syracusan, he being one of those I have named above. This man, as I have said, made head of the army by the Syracusans, soon found out that a mercenary soldiery, constituted like our Italian condottieri, was of no use; and it appearing to him that he could neither keep them not let them go, he had them all cut to pieces, and afterwards made war with his own forces and not with aliens.

I wish also to recall to memory an instance from the Old Testament applicable to this subject. David offered himself to Saul to fight with Goliath, the Philistine champion, and, to give him courage, Saul armed him with his own weapons; which David rejected as soon as he had them on his back, saying he could make no use of them, and that he wished to meet the enemy with his sling and his knife. In conclusion, the arms of others either fall from your back, or they weigh you down, or they bind you fast.

Charles the Seventh,(*) the father of King Louis the Eleventh,(+) having by good fortune and valour liberated France from the English, recognized the necessity of being armed with forces of his own, and he established in his kingdom ordinances concerning men-at-arms and infantry. Afterwards his son, King Louis, abolished the infantry and began to enlist the Switzers, which mistake, followed by others, is, as is now seen, a source of peril to that kingdom; because, having raised the reputation of the Switzers, he has entirely diminished the value of his own arms, for he has destroyed the infantry altogether; and his men-at-arms he has subordinated to others, for, being as they are so accustomed to fight along with Switzers, it does not appear that they can now conquer without them. Hence it arises that the French cannot stand against the Switzers, and without the Switzers they do not come off well against others. The armies of the French have thus become mixed, partly mercenary and partly national, both of which arms together are much better than mercenaries alone or auxiliaries alone, but much inferior to one’s own forces. And this example proves it, for the kingdom of France would be unconquerable if the ordinance of Charles had been enlarged or maintained.

    (*) Charles VII of France, surnamed “The Victorious,” born

    1403, died 1461.

    (+) Louis XI, son of the above, born 1423, died 1483.

But the scanty wisdom of man, on entering into an affair which looks well at first, cannot discern the poison that is hidden in it, as I have said above of hectic fevers. Therefore, if he who rules a principality cannot recognize evils until they are upon him, he is not truly wise; and this insight is given to few. And if the first disaster to the Roman Empire(*) should be examined, it will be found to have commenced only with the enlisting of the Goths; because from that time the vigour of the Roman Empire began to decline, and all that valour which had raised it passed away to others.

    (*) “Many speakers to the House the other night in the

    debate on the reduction of armaments seemed to show a most

    lamentable ignorance of the conditions under which the

    British Empire maintains its existence. When Mr Balfour

    replied to the allegations that the Roman Empire sank under

    the weight of its military obligations, he said that this

    was ‘wholly unhistorical.’ He might well have added that the

    Roman power was at its zenith when every citizen

    acknowledged his liability to fight for the State, but that

    it began to decline as soon as this obligation was no longer

    recognized.” — Pall Mall Gazette, 15th May 1906.

I conclude, therefore, that no principality is secure without having its own forces; on the contrary, it is entirely dependent on good fortune, not having the valour which in adversity would defend it. And it has always been the opinion and judgment of wise men that nothing can be so uncertain or unstable as fame or power not founded on its own strength. And one’s own forces are those which are composed either of subjects, citizens, or dependents; all others are mercenaries or auxiliaries. And the way to make ready one’s own forces will be easily found if the rules suggested by me shall be reflected upon, and if one will consider how Philip, the father of Alexander the Great, and many republics and princes have armed and organized themselves, to which rules I entirely commit myself.

CHAPTER XIV — THAT WHICH CONCERNS A PRINCE ON THE SUBJECT OF THE ART OF WAR

A prince ought to have no other aim or thought, nor select anything else for his study, than war and its rules and discipline; for this is the sole art that belongs to him who rules, and it is of such force that it not only upholds those who are born princes, but it often enables men to rise from a private station to that rank. And, on the contrary, it is seen that when princes have thought more of ease than of arms they have lost their states. And the first cause of your losing it is to neglect this art; and what enables you to acquire a state is to be master of the art. Francesco Sforza, through being martial, from a private person became Duke of Milan; and the sons, through avoiding the hardships and troubles of arms, from dukes became private persons. For among other evils which being unarmed brings you, it causes you to be despised, and this is one of those ignominies against which a prince ought to guard himself, as is shown later on. Because there is nothing proportionate between the armed and the unarmed; and it is not reasonable that he who is armed should yield obedience willingly to him who is unarmed, or that the unarmed man should be secure among armed servants. Because, there being in the one disdain and in the other suspicion, it is not possible for them to work well together. And therefore a prince who does not understand the art of war, over and above the other misfortunes already mentioned, cannot be respected by his soldiers, nor can he rely on them. He ought never, therefore, to have out of his thoughts this subject of war, and in peace he should addict himself more to its exercise than in war; this he can do in two ways, the one by action, the other by study.

As regards action, he ought above all things to keep his men well organized and drilled, to follow incessantly the chase, by which he accustoms his body to hardships, and learns something of the nature of localities, and gets to find out how the mountains rise, how the valleys open out, how the plains lie, and to understand the nature of rivers and marshes, and in all this to take the greatest care. Which knowledge is useful in two ways. Firstly, he learns to know his country, and is better able to undertake its defence; afterwards, by means of the knowledge and observation of that locality, he understands with ease any other which it may be necessary for him to study hereafter; because the hills, valleys, and plains, and rivers and marshes that are, for instance, in Tuscany, have a certain resemblance to those of other countries, so that with a knowledge of the aspect of one country one can easily arrive at a knowledge of others. And the prince that lacks this skill lacks the essential which it is desirable that a captain should possess, for it teaches him to surprise his enemy, to select quarters, to lead armies, to array the battle, to besiege towns to advantage.

Philopoemen,(*) Prince of the Achaeans, among other praises which writers have bestowed on him, is commended because in time of peace he never had anything in his mind but the rules of war; and when he was in the country with friends, he often stopped and reasoned with them: “If the enemy should be upon that hill, and we should find ourselves here with our army, with whom would be the advantage? How should one best advance to meet him, keeping the ranks? If we should wish to retreat, how ought we to pursue?” And he would set forth to them, as he went, all the chances that could befall an army; he would listen to their opinion and state his, confirming it with reasons, so that by these continual discussions there could never arise, in time of war, any unexpected circumstances that he could not deal with.

    (*) Philopoemen, “the last of the Greeks,” born 252 B.C.,

    died 183 B.C.

But to exercise the intellect the prince should read histories, and study there the actions of illustrious men, to see how they have borne themselves in war, to examine the causes of their victories and defeat, so as to avoid the latter and imitate the former; and above all do as an illustrious man did, who took as an exemplar one who had been praised and famous before him, and whose achievements and deeds he always kept in his mind, as it is said Alexander the Great imitated Achilles, Caesar Alexander, Scipio Cyrus. And whoever reads the life of Cyrus, written by Xenophon, will recognize afterwards in the life of Scipio how that imitation was his glory, and how in chastity, affability, humanity, and liberality Scipio conformed to those things which have been written of Cyrus by Xenophon. A wise prince ought to observe some such rules, and never in peaceful times stand idle, but increase his resources with industry in such a way that they may be available to him in adversity, so that if fortune chances it may find him prepared to resist her blows.

CHAPTER XV — CONCERNING THINGS FOR WHICH MEN, AND ESPECIALLY PRINCES, ARE PRAISED OR BLAMED

It remains now to see what ought to be the rules of conduct for a prince towards subject and friends. And as I know that many have written on this point, I expect I shall be considered presumptuous in mentioning it again, especially as in discussing it I shall depart from the methods of other people. But, it being my intention to write a thing which shall be useful to him who apprehends it, it appears to me more appropriate to follow up the real truth of the matter than the imagination of it; for many have pictured republics and principalities which in fact have never been known or seen, because how one lives is so far distant from how one ought to live, that he who neglects what is done for what ought to be done, sooner effects his ruin than his preservation; for a man who wishes to act entirely up to his professions of virtue soon meets with what destroys him among so much that is evil.

Hence it is necessary for a prince wishing to hold his own to know how to do wrong, and to make use of it or not according to necessity. Therefore, putting on one side imaginary things concerning a prince, and discussing those which are real, I say that all men when they are spoken of, and chiefly princes for being more highly placed, are remarkable for some of those qualities which bring them either blame or praise; and thus it is that one is reputed liberal, another miserly, using a Tuscan term (because an avaricious person in our language is still he who desires to possess by robbery, whilst we call one miserly who deprives himself too much of the use of his own); one is reputed generous, one rapacious; one cruel, one compassionate; one faithless, another faithful; one effeminate and cowardly, another bold and brave; one affable, another haughty; one lascivious, another chaste; one sincere, another cunning; one hard, another easy; one grave, another frivolous; one religious, another unbelieving, and the like. And I know that every one will confess that it would be most praiseworthy in a prince to exhibit all the above qualities that are considered good; but because they can neither be entirely possessed nor observed, for human conditions do not permit it, it is necessary for him to be sufficiently prudent that he may know how to avoid the reproach of those vices which would lose him his state; and also to keep himself, if it be possible, from those which would not lose him it; but this not being possible, he may with less hesitation abandon himself to them. And again, he need not make himself uneasy at incurring a reproach for those vices without which the state can only be saved with difficulty, for if everything is considered carefully, it will be found that something which looks like virtue, if followed, would be his ruin; whilst something else, which looks like vice, yet followed brings him security and prosperity.

CHAPTER XVI — CONCERNING LIBERALITY AND MEANNESS

Commencing then with the first of the above-named characteristics, I say that it would be well to be reputed liberal. Nevertheless, liberality exercised in a way that does not bring you the reputation for it, injures you; for if one exercises it honestly and as it should be exercised, it may not become known, and you will not avoid the reproach of its opposite. Therefore, any one wishing to maintain among men the name of liberal is obliged to avoid no attribute of magnificence; so that a prince thus inclined will consume in such acts all his property, and will be compelled in the end, if he wish to maintain the name of liberal, to unduly weigh down his people, and tax them, and do everything he can to get money. This will soon make him odious to his subjects, and becoming poor he will be little valued by any one; thus, with his liberality, having offended many and rewarded few, he is affected by the very first trouble and imperilled by whatever may be the first danger; recognizing this himself, and wishing to draw back from it, he runs at once into the reproach of being miserly.

Therefore, a prince, not being able to exercise this virtue of liberality in such a way that it is recognized, except to his cost, if he is wise he ought not to fear the reputation of being mean, for in time he will come to be more considered than if liberal, seeing that with his economy his revenues are enough, that he can defend himself against all attacks, and is able to engage in enterprises without burdening his people; thus it comes to pass that he exercises liberality towards all from whom he does not take, who are numberless, and meanness towards those to whom he does not give, who are few.

We have not seen great things done in our time except by those who have been considered mean; the rest have failed. Pope Julius the Second was assisted in reaching the papacy by a reputation for liberality, yet he did not strive afterwards to keep it up, when he made war on the King of France; and he made many wars without imposing any extraordinary tax on his subjects, for he supplied his additional expenses out of his long thriftiness. The present King of Spain would not have undertaken or conquered in so many enterprises if he had been reputed liberal. A prince, therefore, provided that he has not to rob his subjects, that he can defend himself, that he does not become poor and abject, that he is not forced to become rapacious, ought to hold of little account a reputation for being mean, for it is one of those vices which will enable him to govern.

And if any one should say: Caesar obtained empire by liberality, and many others have reached the highest positions by having been liberal, and by being considered so, I answer: Either you are a prince in fact, or in a way to become one. In the first case this liberality is dangerous, in the second it is very necessary to be considered liberal; and Caesar was one of those who wished to become pre-eminent in Rome; but if he had survived after becoming so, and had not moderated his expenses, he would have destroyed his government. And if any one should reply: Many have been princes, and have done great things with armies, who have been considered very liberal, I reply: Either a prince spends that which is his own or his subjects’ or else that of others. In the first case he ought to be sparing, in the second he ought not to neglect any opportunity for liberality. And to the prince who goes forth with his army, supporting it by pillage, sack, and extortion, handling that which belongs to others, this liberality is necessary, otherwise he would not be followed by soldiers. And of that which is neither yours nor your subjects’ you can be a ready giver, as were Cyrus, Caesar, and Alexander; because it does not take away your reputation if you squander that of others, but adds to it; it is only squandering your own that injures you.

And there is nothing wastes so rapidly as liberality, for even whilst you exercise it you lose the power to do so, and so become either poor or despised, or else, in avoiding poverty, rapacious and hated. And a prince should guard himself, above all things, against being despised and hated; and liberality leads you to both. Therefore it is wiser to have a reputation for meanness which brings reproach without hatred, than to be compelled through seeking a reputation for liberality to incur a name for rapacity which begets reproach with hatred.

CHAPTER XVII — CONCERNING CRUELTY AND CLEMENCY, AND WHETHER IT IS BETTER TO BE LOVED THAN FEARED

Coming now to the other qualities mentioned above, I say that every prince ought to desire to be considered clement and not cruel. Nevertheless he ought to take care not to misuse this clemency. Cesare Borgia was considered cruel; notwithstanding, his cruelty reconciled the Romagna, unified it, and restored it to peace and loyalty. And if this be rightly considered, he will be seen to have been much more merciful than the Florentine people, who, to avoid a reputation for cruelty, permitted Pistoia to be destroyed.(*) Therefore a prince, so long as he keeps his subjects united and loyal, ought not to mind the reproach of cruelty; because with a few examples he will be more merciful than those who, through too much mercy, allow disorders to arise, from which follow murders or robberies; for these are wont to injure the whole people, whilst those executions which originate with a prince offend the individual only.

    (*) During the rioting between the Cancellieri and

    Panciatichi factions in 1502 and 1503.

And of all princes, it is impossible for the new prince to avoid the imputation of cruelty, owing to new states being full of dangers. Hence Virgil, through the mouth of Dido, excuses the inhumanity of her reign owing to its being new, saying:

    “Res dura, et regni novitas me talia cogunt

    Moliri, et late fines custode tueri.”(*)

Nevertheless he ought to be slow to believe and to act, nor should he himself show fear, but proceed in a temperate manner with prudence and humanity, so that too much confidence may not make him incautious and too much distrust render him intolerable.

    (*) . . . against my will, my fate

    A throne unsettled, and an infant state,

    Bid me defend my realms with all my pow’rs,

    And guard with these severities my shores.

    Christopher Pitt.

Upon this a question arises: whether it be better to be loved than feared or feared than loved? It may be answered that one should wish to be both, but, because it is difficult to unite them in one person, it is much safer to be feared than loved, when, of the two, either must be dispensed with. Because this is to be asserted in general of men, that they are ungrateful, fickle, false, cowardly, covetous, and as long as you succeed they are yours entirely; they will offer you their blood, property, life, and children, as is said above, when the need is far distant; but when it approaches they turn against you. And that prince who, relying entirely on their promises, has neglected other precautions, is ruined; because friendships that are obtained by payments, and not by greatness or nobility of mind, may indeed be earned, but they are not secured, and in time of need cannot be relied upon; and men have less scruple in offending one who is beloved than one who is feared, for love is preserved by the link of obligation which, owing to the baseness of men, is broken at every opportunity for their advantage; but fear preserves you by a dread of punishment which never fails.

Nevertheless a prince ought to inspire fear in such a way that, if he does not win love, he avoids hatred; because he can endure very well being feared whilst he is not hated, which will always be as long as he abstains from the property of his citizens and subjects and from their women. But when it is necessary for him to proceed against the life of someone, he must do it on proper justification and for manifest cause, but above all things he must keep his hands off the property of others, because men more quickly forget the death of their father than the loss of their patrimony. Besides, pretexts for taking away the property are never wanting; for he who has once begun to live by robbery will always find pretexts for seizing what belongs to others; but reasons for taking life, on the contrary, are more difficult to find and sooner lapse. But when a prince is with his army, and has under control a multitude of soldiers, then it is quite necessary for him to disregard the reputation of cruelty, for without it he would never hold his army united or disposed to its duties.

Among the wonderful deeds of Hannibal this one is enumerated: that having led an enormous army, composed of many various races of men, to fight in foreign lands, no dissensions arose either among them or against the prince, whether in his bad or in his good fortune. This arose from nothing else than his inhuman cruelty, which, with his boundless valour, made him revered and terrible in the sight of his soldiers, but without that cruelty, his other virtues were not sufficient to produce this effect. And short-sighted writers admire his deeds from one point of view and from another condemn the principal cause of them. That it is true his other virtues would not have been sufficient for him may be proved by the case of Scipio, that most excellent man, not only of his own times but within the memory of man, against whom, nevertheless, his army rebelled in Spain; this arose from nothing but his too great forbearance, which gave his soldiers more license than is consistent with military discipline. For this he was upbraided in the Senate by Fabius Maximus, and called the corrupter of the Roman soldiery. The Locrians were laid waste by a legate of Scipio, yet they were not avenged by him, nor was the insolence of the legate punished, owing entirely to his easy nature. Insomuch that someone in the Senate, wishing to excuse him, said there were many men who knew much better how not to err than to correct the errors of others. This disposition, if he had been continued in the command, would have destroyed in time the fame and glory of Scipio; but, he being under the control of the Senate, this injurious characteristic not only concealed itself, but contributed to his glory.

Returning to the question of being feared or loved, I come to the conclusion that, men loving according to their own will and fearing according to that of the prince, a wise prince should establish himself on that which is in his own control and not in that of others; he must endeavour only to avoid hatred, as is noted.

CHAPTER XVIII(*) — CONCERNING THE WAY IN WHICH PRINCES SHOULD KEEP FAITH

    (*) “The present chapter has given greater offence than any

    other portion of Machiavelli’s writings.” Burd, “Il

    Principe,” .

Every one admits how praiseworthy it is in a prince to keep faith, and to live with integrity and not with craft. Nevertheless our experience has been that those princes who have done great things have held good faith of little account, and have known how to circumvent the intellect of men by craft, and in the end have overcome those who have relied on their word. You must know there are two ways of contesting,(*) the one by the law, the other by force; the first method is proper to men, the second to beasts; but because the first is frequently not sufficient, it is necessary to have recourse to the second. Therefore it is necessary for a prince to understand how to avail himself of the beast and the man. This has been figuratively taught to princes by ancient writers, who describe how Achilles and many other princes of old were given to the Centaur Chiron to nurse, who brought them up in his discipline; which means solely that, as they had for a teacher one who was half beast and half man, so it is necessary for a prince to know how to make use of both natures, and that one without the other is not durable. A prince, therefore, being compelled knowingly to adopt the beast, ought to choose the fox and the lion; because the lion cannot defend himself against snares and the fox cannot defend himself against wolves. Therefore, it is necessary to be a fox to discover the snares and a lion to terrify the wolves. Those who rely simply on the lion do not understand what they are about. Therefore a wise lord cannot, nor ought he to, keep faith when such observance may be turned against him, and when the reasons that caused him to pledge it exist no longer. If men were entirely good this precept would not hold, but because they are bad, and will not keep faith with you, you too are not bound to observe it with them. Nor will there ever be wanting to a prince legitimate reasons to excuse this non-observance. Of this endless modern examples could be given, showing how many treaties and engagements have been made void and of no effect through the faithlessness of princes; and he who has known best how to employ the fox has succeeded best.

    (*) “Contesting,” i.e. “striving for mastery.” Mr Burd

    points out that this passage is imitated directly from

    Cicero’s “De Officiis”: “Nam cum sint duo genera decertandi,

    unum per disceptationem, alterum per vim; cumque illud

    proprium sit hominis, hoc beluarum; confugiendum est ad

    posterius, si uti non licet superiore.”

But it is necessary to know well how to disguise this characteristic, and to be a great pretender and dissembler; and men are so simple, and so subject to present necessities, that he who seeks to deceive will always find someone who will allow himself to be deceived. One recent example I cannot pass over in silence. Alexander the Sixth did nothing else but deceive men, nor ever thought of doing otherwise, and he always found victims; for there never was a man who had greater power in asserting, or who with greater oaths would affirm a thing, yet would observe it less; nevertheless his deceits always succeeded according to his wishes,(*) because he well understood this side of mankind.

    (*) “Nondimanco sempre gli succederono gli inganni (ad

    votum).” The words “ad votum” are omitted in the Testina

    addition, 1550.

    Alexander never did what he said,

    Cesare never said what he did.

    Italian Proverb.

Therefore it is unnecessary for a prince to have all the good qualities I have enumerated, but it is very necessary to appear to have them. And I shall dare to say this also, that to have them and always to observe them is injurious, and that to appear to have them is useful; to appear merciful, faithful, humane, religious, upright, and to be so, but with a mind so framed that should you require not to be so, you may be able and know how to change to the opposite.

And you have to understand this, that a prince, especially a new one, cannot observe all those things for which men are esteemed, being often forced, in order to maintain the state, to act contrary to fidelity,(*) friendship, humanity, and religion. Therefore it is necessary for him to have a mind ready to turn itself accordingly as the winds and variations of fortune force it, yet, as I have said above, not to diverge from the good if he can avoid doing so, but, if compelled, then to know how to set about it.

    (*) “Contrary to fidelity” or “faith,” “contro alla fede,”

    and “tutto fede,” “altogether faithful,” in the next

    paragraph. It is noteworthy that these two phrases, “contro

    alla fede” and “tutto fede,” were omitted in the Testina

    edition, which was published with the sanction of the papal

    authorities. It may be that the meaning attached to the word

    “fede” was “the faith,” i.e. the Catholic creed, and not as

    rendered here “fidelity” and “faithful.” Observe that the

    word “religione” was suffered to stand in the text of the

    Testina, being used to signify indifferently every shade of

    belief, as witness “the religion,” a phrase inevitably

    employed to designate the Huguenot heresy. South in his

    Sermon IX, , ed. 1843, comments on this passage as

    follows: “That great patron and Coryphaeus of this tribe,

    Nicolo Machiavel, laid down this for a master rule in his

    political scheme: ‘That the show of religion was helpful to

    the politician, but the reality of it hurtful and

    pernicious.’”

For this reason a prince ought to take care that he never lets anything slip from his lips that is not replete with the above-named five qualities, that he may appear to him who sees and hears him altogether merciful, faithful, humane, upright, and religious. There is nothing more necessary to appear to have than this last quality, inasmuch as men judge generally more by the eye than by the hand, because it belongs to everybody to see you, to few to come in touch with you. Every one sees what you appear to be, few really know what you are, and those few dare not oppose themselves to the opinion of the many, who have the majesty of the state to defend them; and in the actions of all men, and especially of princes, which it is not prudent to challenge, one judges by the result.

For that reason, let a prince have the credit of conquering and holding his state, the means will always be considered honest, and he will be praised by everybody; because the vulgar are always taken by what a thing seems to be and by what comes of it; and in the world there are only the vulgar, for the few find a place there only when the many have no ground to rest on.

One prince(*) of the present time, whom it is not well to name, never preaches anything else but peace and good faith, and to both he is most hostile, and either, if he had kept it, would have deprived him of reputation and kingdom many a time.

    (*) Ferdinand of Aragon. “When Machiavelli was writing ‘The

    Prince’ it would have been clearly impossible to mention

    Ferdinand’s name here without giving offence.” Burd’s “Il

    Principe,” .

CHAPTER XIX — THAT ONE SHOULD AVOID BEING DESPISED AND HATED

Now, concerning the characteristics of which mention is made above, I have spoken of the more important ones, the others I wish to discuss briefly under this generality, that the prince must consider, as has been in part said before, how to avoid those things which will make him hated or contemptible; and as often as he shall have succeeded he will have fulfilled his part, and he need not fear any danger in other reproaches.

It makes him hated above all things, as I have said, to be rapacious, and to be a violator of the property and women of his subjects, from both of which he must abstain. And when neither their property nor their honor is touched, the majority of men live content, and he has only to contend with the ambition of a few, whom he can curb with ease in many ways.

It makes him contemptible to be considered fickle, frivolous, effeminate, mean-spirited, irresolute, from all of which a prince should guard himself as from a rock; and he should endeavour to show in his actions greatness, courage, gravity, and fortitude; and in his private dealings with his subjects let him show that his judgments are irrevocable, and maintain himself in such reputation that no one can hope either to deceive him or to get round him.

That prince is highly esteemed who conveys this impression of himself, and he who is highly esteemed is not easily conspired against; for, provided it is well known that he is an excellent man and revered by his people, he can only be attacked with difficulty. For this reason a prince ought to have two fears, one from within, on account of his subjects, the other from without, on account of external powers. From the latter he is defended by being well armed and having good allies, and if he is well armed he will have good friends, and affairs will always remain quiet within when they are quiet without, unless they should have been already disturbed by conspiracy; and even should affairs outside be disturbed, if he has carried out his preparations and has lived as I have said, as long as he does not despair, he will resist every attack, as I said Nabis the Spartan did.

But concerning his subjects, when affairs outside are disturbed he has only to fear that they will conspire secretly, from which a prince can easily secure himself by avoiding being hated and despised, and by keeping the people satisfied with him, which it is most necessary for him to accomplish, as I said above at length. And one of the most efficacious remedies that a prince can have against conspiracies is not to be hated and despised by the people, for he who conspires against a prince always expects to please them by his removal; but when the conspirator can only look forward to offending them, he will not have the courage to take such a course, for the difficulties that confront a conspirator are infinite. And as experience shows, many have been the conspiracies, but few have been successful; because he who conspires cannot act alone, nor can he take a companion except from those whom he believes to be malcontents, and as soon as you have opened your mind to a malcontent you have given him the material with which to content himself, for by denouncing you he can look for every advantage; so that, seeing the gain from this course to be assured, and seeing the other to be doubtful and full of dangers, he must be a very rare friend, or a thoroughly obstinate enemy of the prince, to keep faith with you.

And, to reduce the matter into a small compass, I say that, on the side of the conspirator, there is nothing but fear, jealousy, prospect of punishment to terrify him; but on the side of the prince there is the majesty of the principality, the laws, the protection of friends and the state to defend him; so that, adding to all these things the popular goodwill, it is impossible that any one should be so rash as to conspire. For whereas in general the conspirator has to fear before the execution of his plot, in this case he has also to fear the sequel to the crime; because on account of it he has the people for an enemy, and thus cannot hope for any escape.

Endless examples could be given on this subject, but I will be content with one, brought to pass within the memory of our fathers. Messer Annibale Bentivogli, who was prince in Bologna (grandfather of the present Annibale), having been murdered by the Canneschi, who had conspired against him, not one of his family survived but Messer Giovanni,(*) who was in childhood: immediately after his assassination the people rose and murdered all the Canneschi. This sprung from the popular goodwill which the house of Bentivogli enjoyed in those days in Bologna; which was so great that, although none remained there after the death of Annibale who was able to rule the state, the Bolognese, having information that there was one of the Bentivogli family in Florence, who up to that time had been considered the son of a blacksmith, sent to Florence for him and gave him the government of their city, and it was ruled by him until Messer Giovanni came in due course to the government.

    (*) Giovanni Bentivogli, born in Bologna 1438, died at Milan

    1508. He ruled Bologna from 1462 to 1506. Machiavelli’s

    strong condemnation of conspiracies may get its edge from

    his own very recent experience (February 1513), when he had

    been arrested and tortured for his alleged complicity in the

    Boscoli conspiracy.

For this reason I consider that a prince ought to reckon conspiracies of little account when his people hold him in esteem; but when it is hostile to him, and bears hatred towards him, he ought to fear everything and everybody. And well-ordered states and wise princes have taken every care not to drive the nobles to desperation, and to keep the people satisfied and contented, for this is one of the most important objects a prince can have.

Among the best ordered and governed kingdoms of our times is France, and in it are found many good institutions on which depend the liberty and security of the king; of these the first is the parliament and its authority, because he who founded the kingdom, knowing the ambition of the nobility and their boldness, considered that a bit to their mouths would be necessary to hold them in; and, on the other side, knowing the hatred of the people, founded in fear, against the nobles, he wished to protect them, yet he was not anxious for this to be the particular care of the king; therefore, to take away the reproach which he would be liable to from the nobles for favouring the people, and from the people for favouring the nobles, he set up an arbiter, who should be one who could beat down the great and favour the lesser without reproach to the king. Neither could you have a better or a more prudent arrangement, or a greater source of security to the king and kingdom. From this one can draw another important conclusion, that princes ought to leave affairs of reproach to the management of others, and keep those of grace in their own hands. And further, I consider that a prince ought to cherish the nobles, but not so as to make himself hated by the people.

It may appear, perhaps, to some who have examined the lives and deaths of the Roman emperors that many of them would be an example contrary to my opinion, seeing that some of them lived nobly and showed great qualities of soul, nevertheless they have lost their empire or have been killed by subjects who have conspired against them. Wishing, therefore, to answer these objections, I will recall the characters of some of the emperors, and will show that the causes of their ruin were not different to those alleged by me; at the same time I will only submit for consideration those things that are noteworthy to him who studies the affairs of those times.

It seems to me sufficient to take all those emperors who succeeded to the empire from Marcus the philosopher down to Maximinus; they were Marcus and his son Commodus, Pertinax, Julian, Severus and his son Antoninus Caracalla, Macrinus, Heliogabalus, Alexander, and Maximinus.

There is first to note that, whereas in other principalities the ambition of the nobles and the insolence of the people only have to be contended with, the Roman emperors had a third difficulty in having to put up with the cruelty and avarice of their soldiers, a matter so beset with difficulties that it was the ruin of many; for it was a hard thing to give satisfaction both to soldiers and people; because the people loved peace, and for this reason they loved the unaspiring prince, whilst the soldiers loved the warlike prince who was bold, cruel, and rapacious, which qualities they were quite willing he should exercise upon the people, so that they could get double pay and give vent to their own greed and cruelty. Hence it arose that those emperors were always overthrown who, either by birth or training, had no great authority, and most of them, especially those who came new to the principality, recognizing the difficulty of these two opposing humours, were inclined to give satisfaction to the soldiers, caring little about injuring the people. Which course was necessary, because, as princes cannot help being hated by someone, they ought, in the first place, to avoid being hated by every one, and when they cannot compass this, they ought to endeavour with the utmost diligence to avoid the hatred of the most powerful. Therefore, those emperors who through inexperience had need of special favour adhered more readily to the soldiers than to the people; a course which turned out advantageous to them or not, accordingly as the prince knew how to maintain authority over them.

From these causes it arose that Marcus, Pertinax, and Alexander, being all men of modest life, lovers of justice, enemies to cruelty, humane, and benignant, came to a sad end except Marcus; he alone lived and died honoured, because he had succeeded to the throne by hereditary title, and owed nothing either to the soldiers or the people; and afterwards, being possessed of many virtues which made him respected, he always kept both orders in their places whilst he lived, and was neither hated nor despised.

But Pertinax was created emperor against the wishes of the soldiers, who, being accustomed to live licentiously under Commodus, could not endure the honest life to which Pertinax wished to reduce them; thus, having given cause for hatred, to which hatred there was added contempt for his old age, he was overthrown at the very beginning of his administration. And here it should be noted that hatred is acquired as much by good works as by bad ones, therefore, as I said before, a prince wishing to keep his state is very often forced to do evil; for when that body is corrupt whom you think you have need of to maintain yourself — it may be either the people or the soldiers or the nobles — you have to submit to its humours and to gratify them, and then good works will do you harm.

But let us come to Alexander, who was a man of such great goodness, that among the other praises which are accorded him is this, that in the fourteen years he held the empire no one was ever put to death by him unjudged; nevertheless, being considered effeminate and a man who allowed himself to be governed by his mother, he became despised, the army conspired against him, and murdered him.

Turning now to the opposite characters of Commodus, Severus, Antoninus Caracalla, and Maximinus, you will find them all cruel and rapacious-men who, to satisfy their soldiers, did not hesitate to commit every kind of iniquity against the people; and all, except Severus, came to a bad end; but in Severus there was so much valour that, keeping the soldiers friendly, although the people were oppressed by him, he reigned successfully; for his valour made him so much admired in the sight of the soldiers and people that the latter were kept in a way astonished and awed and the former respectful and satisfied. And because the actions of this man, as a new prince, were great, I wish to show briefly that he knew well how to counterfeit the fox and the lion, which natures, as I said above, it is necessary for a prince to imitate.

Knowing the sloth of the Emperor Julian, he persuaded the army in Sclavonia, of which he was captain, that it would be right to go to Rome and avenge the death of Pertinax, who had been killed by the praetorian soldiers; and under this pretext, without appearing to aspire to the throne, he moved the army on Rome, and reached Italy before it was known that he had started. On his arrival at Rome, the Senate, through fear, elected him emperor and killed Julian. After this there remained for Severus, who wished to make himself master of the whole empire, two difficulties; one in Asia, where Niger, head of the Asiatic army, had caused himself to be proclaimed emperor; the other in the west where Albinus was, who also aspired to the throne. And as he considered it dangerous to declare himself hostile to both, he decided to attack Niger and to deceive Albinus. To the latter he wrote that, being elected emperor by the Senate, he was willing to share that dignity with him and sent him the title of Caesar; and, moreover, that the Senate had made Albinus his colleague; which things were accepted by Albinus as true. But after Severus had conquered and killed Niger, and settled oriental affairs, he returned to Rome and complained to the Senate that Albinus, little recognizing the benefits that he had received from him, had by treachery sought to murder him, and for this ingratitude he was compelled to punish him. Afterwards he sought him out in France, and took from him his government and life. He who will, therefore, carefully examine the actions of this man will find him a most valiant lion and a most cunning fox; he will find him feared and respected by every one, and not hated by the army; and it need not be wondered at that he, a new man, was able to hold the empire so well, because his supreme renown always protected him from that hatred which the people might have conceived against him for his violence.

But his son Antoninus was a most eminent man, and had very excellent qualities, which made him admirable in the sight of the people and acceptable to the soldiers, for he was a warlike man, most enduring of fatigue, a despiser of all delicate food and other luxuries, which caused him to be beloved by the armies. Nevertheless, his ferocity and cruelties were so great and so unheard of that, after endless single murders, he killed a large number of the people of Rome and all those of Alexandria. He became hated by the whole world, and also feared by those he had around him, to such an extent that he was murdered in the midst of his army by a centurion. And here it must be noted that such-like deaths, which are deliberately inflicted with a resolved and desperate courage, cannot be avoided by princes, because any one who does not fear to die can inflict them; but a prince may fear them the less because they are very rare; he has only to be careful not to do any grave injury to those whom he employs or has around him in the service of the state. Antoninus had not taken this care, but had contumeliously killed a brother of that centurion, whom also he daily threatened, yet retained in his bodyguard; which, as it turned out, was a rash thing to do, and proved the emperor’s ruin.

But let us come to Commodus, to whom it should have been very easy to hold the empire, for, being the son of Marcus, he had inherited it, and he had only to follow in the footsteps of his father to please his people and soldiers; but, being by nature cruel and brutal, he gave himself up to amusing the soldiers and corrupting them, so that he might indulge his rapacity upon the people; on the other hand, not maintaining his dignity, often descending to the theatre to compete with gladiators, and doing other vile things, little worthy of the imperial majesty, he fell into contempt with the soldiers, and being hated by one party and despised by the other, he was conspired against and was killed.

It remains to discuss the character of Maximinus. He was a very warlike man, and the armies, being disgusted with the effeminacy of Alexander, of whom I have already spoken, killed him and elected Maximinus to the throne. This he did not possess for long, for two things made him hated and despised; the one, his having kept sheep in Thrace, which brought him into contempt (it being well known to all, and considered a great indignity by every one), and the other, his having at the accession to his dominions deferred going to Rome and taking possession of the imperial seat; he had also gained a reputation for the utmost ferocity by having, through his prefects in Rome and elsewhere in the empire, practised many cruelties, so that the whole world was moved to anger at the meanness of his birth and to fear at his barbarity. First Africa rebelled, then the Senate with all the people of Rome, and all Italy conspired against him, to which may be added his own army; this latter, besieging Aquileia and meeting with difficulties in taking it, were disgusted with his cruelties, and fearing him less when they found so many against him, murdered him.

I do not wish to discuss Heliogabalus, Macrinus, or Julian, who, being thoroughly contemptible, were quickly wiped out; but I will bring this discourse to a conclusion by saying that princes in our times have this difficulty of giving inordinate satisfaction to their soldiers in a far less degree, because, notwithstanding one has to give them some indulgence, that is soon done; none of these princes have armies that are veterans in the governance and administration of provinces, as were the armies of the Roman Empire; and whereas it was then more necessary to give satisfaction to the soldiers than to the people, it is now more necessary to all princes, except the Turk and the Soldan, to satisfy the people rather the soldiers, because the people are the more powerful.

From the above I have excepted the Turk, who always keeps round him twelve thousand infantry and fifteen thousand cavalry on which depend the security and strength of the kingdom, and it is necessary that, putting aside every consideration for the people, he should keep them his friends. The kingdom of the Soldan is similar; being entirely in the hands of soldiers, it follows again that, without regard to the people, he must keep them his friends. But you must note that the state of the Soldan is unlike all other principalities, for the reason that it is like the Christian pontificate, which cannot be called either an hereditary or a newly formed principality; because the sons of the old prince are not the heirs, but he who is elected to that position by those who have authority, and the sons remain only noblemen. And this being an ancient custom, it cannot be called a new principality, because there are none of those difficulties in it that are met with in new ones; for although the prince is new, the constitution of the state is old, and it is framed so as to receive him as if he were its hereditary lord.

But returning to the subject of our discourse, I say that whoever will consider it will acknowledge that either hatred or contempt has been fatal to the above-named emperors, and it will be recognized also how it happened that, a number of them acting in one way and a number in another, only one in each way came to a happy end and the rest to unhappy ones. Because it would have been useless and dangerous for Pertinax and Alexander, being new princes, to imitate Marcus, who was heir to the principality; and likewise it would have been utterly destructive to Caracalla, Commodus, and Maximinus to have imitated Severus, they not having sufficient valour to enable them to tread in his footsteps. Therefore a prince, new to the principality, cannot imitate the actions of Marcus, nor, again, is it necessary to follow those of Severus, but he ought to take from Severus those parts which are necessary to found his state, and from Marcus those which are proper and glorious to keep a state that may already be stable and firm.

CHAPTER XX — ARE FORTRESSES, AND MANY OTHER THINGS TO WHICH PRINCES OFTEN RESORT, ADVANTAGEOUS OR HURTFUL?

1. Some princes, so as to hold securely the state, have disarmed their subjects; others have kept their subject towns distracted by factions; others have fostered enmities against themselves; others have laid themselves out to gain over those whom they distrusted in the beginning of their governments; some have built fortresses; some have overthrown and destroyed them. And although one cannot give a final judgment on all of these things unless one possesses the particulars of those states in which a decision has to be made, nevertheless I will speak as comprehensively as the matter of itself will admit.

2. There never was a new prince who has disarmed his subjects; rather when he has found them disarmed he has always armed them, because, by arming them, those arms become yours, those men who were distrusted become faithful, and those who were faithful are kept so, and your subjects become your adherents. And whereas all subjects cannot be armed, yet when those whom you do arm are benefited, the others can be handled more freely, and this difference in their treatment, which they quite understand, makes the former your dependents, and the latter, considering it to be necessary that those who have the most danger and service should have the most reward, excuse you. But when you disarm them, you at once offend them by showing that you distrust them, either for cowardice or for want of loyalty, and either of these opinions breeds hatred against you. And because you cannot remain unarmed, it follows that you turn to mercenaries, which are of the character already shown; even if they should be good they would not be sufficient to defend you against powerful enemies and distrusted subjects. Therefore, as I have said, a new prince in a new principality has always distributed arms. Histories are full of examples. But when a prince acquires a new state, which he adds as a province to his old one, then it is necessary to disarm the men of that state, except those who have been his adherents in acquiring it; and these again, with time and opportunity, should be rendered soft and effeminate; and matters should be managed in such a way that all the armed men in the state shall be your own soldiers who in your old state were living near you.

3. Our forefathers, and those who were reckoned wise, were accustomed to say that it was necessary to hold Pistoia by factions and Pisa by fortresses; and with this idea they fostered quarrels in some of their tributary towns so as to keep possession of them the more easily. This may have been well enough in those times when Italy was in a way balanced, but I do not believe that it can be accepted as a precept for to-day, because I do not believe that factions can ever be of use; rather it is certain that when the enemy comes upon you in divided cities you are quickly lost, because the weakest party will always assist the outside forces and the other will not be able to resist. The Venetians, moved, as I believe, by the above reasons, fostered the Guelph and Ghibelline factions in their tributary cities; and although they never allowed them to come to bloodshed, yet they nursed these disputes amongst them, so that the citizens, distracted by their differences, should not unite against them. Which, as we saw, did not afterwards turn out as expected, because, after the rout at Vaila, one party at once took courage and seized the state. Such methods argue, therefore, weakness in the prince, because these factions will never be permitted in a vigorous principality; such methods for enabling one the more easily to manage subjects are only useful in times of peace, but if war comes this policy proves fallacious.

4. Without doubt princes become great when they overcome the difficulties and obstacles by which they are confronted, and therefore fortune, especially when she desires to make a new prince great, who has a greater necessity to earn renown than an hereditary one, causes enemies to arise and form designs against him, in order that he may have the opportunity of overcoming them, and by them to mount higher, as by a ladder which his enemies have raised. For this reason many consider that a wise prince, when he has the opportunity, ought with craft to foster some animosity against himself, so that, having crushed it, his renown may rise higher.

5. Princes, especially new ones, have found more fidelity and assistance in those men who in the beginning of their rule were distrusted than among those who in the beginning were trusted. Pandolfo Petrucci, Prince of Siena, ruled his state more by those who had been distrusted than by others. But on this question one cannot speak generally, for it varies so much with the individual; I will only say this, that those men who at the commencement of a princedom have been hostile, if they are of a description to need assistance to support themselves, can always be gained over with the greatest ease, and they will be tightly held to serve the prince with fidelity, inasmuch as they know it to be very necessary for them to cancel by deeds the bad impression which he had formed of them; and thus the prince always extracts more profit from them than from those who, serving him in too much security, may neglect his affairs. And since the matter demands it, I must not fail to warn a prince, who by means of secret favours has acquired a new state, that he must well consider the reasons which induced those to favour him who did so; and if it be not a natural affection towards him, but only discontent with their government, then he will only keep them friendly with great trouble and difficulty, for it will be impossible to satisfy them. And weighing well the reasons for this in those examples which can be taken from ancient and modern affairs, we shall find that it is easier for the prince to make friends of those men who were contented under the former government, and are therefore his enemies, than of those who, being discontented with it, were favourable to him and encouraged him to seize it.

6. It has been a custom with princes, in order to hold their states more securely, to build fortresses that may serve as a bridle and bit to those who might design to work against them, and as a place of refuge from a first attack. I praise this system because it has been made use of formerly. Notwithstanding that, Messer Nicolo Vitelli in our times has been seen to demolish two fortresses in Citta di Castello so that he might keep that state; Guido Ubaldo, Duke of Urbino, on returning to his dominion, whence he had been driven by Cesare Borgia, razed to the foundations all the fortresses in that province, and considered that without them it would be more difficult to lose it; the Bentivogli returning to Bologna came to a similar decision. Fortresses, therefore, are useful or not according to circumstances; if they do you good in one way they injure you in another. And this question can be reasoned thus: the prince who has more to fear from the people than from foreigners ought to build fortresses, but he who has more to fear from foreigners than from the people ought to leave them alone. The castle of Milan, built by Francesco Sforza, has made, and will make, more trouble for the house of Sforza than any other disorder in the state. For this reason the best possible fortress is — not to be hated by the people, because, although you may hold the fortresses, yet they will not save you if the people hate you, for there will never be wanting foreigners to assist a people who have taken arms against you. It has not been seen in our times that such fortresses have been of use to any prince, unless to the Countess of Forli,(*) when the Count Girolamo, her consort, was killed; for by that means she was able to withstand the popular attack and wait for assistance from Milan, and thus recover her state; and the posture of affairs was such at that time that the foreigners could not assist the people. But fortresses were of little value to her afterwards when Cesare Borgia attacked her, and when the people, her enemy, were allied with foreigners. Therefore, it would have been safer for her, both then and before, not to have been hated by the people than to have had the fortresses. All these things considered then, I shall praise him who builds fortresses as well as him who does not, and I shall blame whoever, trusting in them, cares little about being hated by the people.

    (*) Catherine Sforza, a daughter of Galeazzo Sforza and

    Lucrezia Landriani, born 1463, died 1509. It was to the

    Countess of Forli that Machiavelli was sent as envy on 1499.

    A letter from Fortunati to the countess announces the

    appointment: “I have been with the signori,” wrote

    Fortunati, “to learn whom they would send and when. They

    tell me that Nicolo Machiavelli, a learned young Florentine

    noble, secretary to my Lords of the Ten, is to leave with me

    at once.” Cf. “Catherine Sforza,” by Count Pasolini,

    translated by P. Sylvester, 1898.

CHAPTER XXI — HOW A PRINCE SHOULD CONDUCT HIMSELF SO AS TO GAIN RENOWN

Nothing makes a prince so much esteemed as great enterprises and setting a fine example. We have in our time Ferdinand of Aragon, the present King of Spain. He can almost be called a new prince, because he has risen, by fame and glory, from being an insignificant king to be the foremost king in Christendom; and if you will consider his deeds you will find them all great and some of them extraordinary. In the beginning of his reign he attacked Granada, and this enterprise was the foundation of his dominions. He did this quietly at first and without any fear of hindrance, for he held the minds of the barons of Castile occupied in thinking of the war and not anticipating any innovations; thus they did not perceive that by these means he was acquiring power and authority over them. He was able with the money of the Church and of the people to sustain his armies, and by that long war to lay the foundation for the military skill which has since distinguished him. Further, always using religion as a plea, so as to undertake greater schemes, he devoted himself with pious cruelty to driving out and clearing his kingdom of the Moors; nor could there be a more admirable example, nor one more rare. Under this same cloak he assailed Africa, he came down on Italy, he has finally attacked France; and thus his achievements and designs have always been great, and have kept the minds of his people in suspense and admiration and occupied with the issue of them. And his actions have arisen in such a way, one out of the other, that men have never been given time to work steadily against him.

Again, it much assists a prince to set unusual examples in internal affairs, similar to those which are related of Messer Bernabo da Milano, who, when he had the opportunity, by any one in civil life doing some extraordinary thing, either good or bad, would take some method of rewarding or punishing him, which would be much spoken about. And a prince ought, above all things, always endeavour in every action to gain for himself the reputation of being a great and remarkable man.

A prince is also respected when he is either a true friend or a downright enemy, that is to say, when, without any reservation, he declares himself in favour of one party against the other; which course will always be more advantageous than standing neutral; because if two of your powerful neighbours come to blows, they are of such a character that, if one of them conquers, you have either to fear him or not. In either case it will always be more advantageous for you to declare yourself and to make war strenuously; because, in the first case, if you do not declare yourself, you will invariably fall a prey to the conqueror, to the pleasure and satisfaction of him who has been conquered, and you will have no reasons to offer, nor anything to protect or to shelter you. Because he who conquers does not want doubtful friends who will not aid him in the time of trial; and he who loses will not harbour you because you did not willingly, sword in hand, court his fate.

Antiochus went into Greece, being sent for by the Aetolians to drive out the Romans. He sent envoys to the Achaeans, who were friends of the Romans, exhorting them to remain neutral; and on the other hand the Romans urged them to take up arms. This question came to be discussed in the council of the Achaeans, where the legate of Antiochus urged them to stand neutral. To this the Roman legate answered: “As for that which has been said, that it is better and more advantageous for your state not to interfere in our war, nothing can be more erroneous; because by not interfering you will be left, without favour or consideration, the guerdon of the conqueror.” Thus it will always happen that he who is not your friend will demand your neutrality, whilst he who is your friend will entreat you to declare yourself with arms. And irresolute princes, to avoid present dangers, generally follow the neutral path, and are generally ruined. But when a prince declares himself gallantly in favour of one side, if the party with whom he allies himself conquers, although the victor may be powerful and may have him at his mercy, yet he is indebted to him, and there is established a bond of amity; and men are never so shameless as to become a monument of ingratitude by oppressing you. Victories after all are never so complete that the victor must not show some regard, especially to justice. But if he with whom you ally yourself loses, you may be sheltered by him, and whilst he is able he may aid you, and you become companions on a fortune that may rise again.

In the second case, when those who fight are of such a character that you have no anxiety as to who may conquer, so much the more is it greater prudence to be allied, because you assist at the destruction of one by the aid of another who, if he had been wise, would have saved him; and conquering, as it is impossible that he should not do with your assistance, he remains at your discretion. And here it is to be noted that a prince ought to take care never to make an alliance with one more powerful than himself for the purposes of attacking others, unless necessity compels him, as is said above; because if he conquers you are at his discretion, and princes ought to avoid as much as possible being at the discretion of any one. The Venetians joined with France against the Duke of Milan, and this alliance, which caused their ruin, could have been avoided. But when it cannot be avoided, as happened to the Florentines when the Pope and Spain sent armies to attack Lombardy, then in such a case, for the above reasons, the prince ought to favour one of the parties.

Never let any Government imagine that it can choose perfectly safe courses; rather let it expect to have to take very doubtful ones, because it is found in ordinary affairs that one never seeks to avoid one trouble without running into another; but prudence consists in knowing how to distinguish the character of troubles, and for choice to take the lesser evil.

A prince ought also to show himself a patron of ability, and to honour the proficient in every art. At the same time he should encourage his citizens to practise their callings peaceably, both in commerce and agriculture, and in every other following, so that the one should not be deterred from improving his possessions for fear lest they be taken away from him or another from opening up trade for fear of taxes; but the prince ought to offer rewards to whoever wishes to do these things and designs in any way to honour his city or state.

Further, he ought to entertain the people with festivals and spectacles at convenient seasons of the year; and as every city is divided into guilds or into societies,(*) he ought to hold such bodies in esteem, and associate with them sometimes, and show himself an example of courtesy and liberality; nevertheless, always maintaining the majesty of his rank, for this he must never consent to abate in anything.

    (*) “Guilds or societies,” “in arti o in tribu.” “Arti” were

    craft or trade guilds, cf. Florio: “Arte . . . a whole

    company of any trade in any city or corporation town.” The

    guilds of Florence are most admirably described by Mr

    Edgcumbe Staley in his work on the subject (Methuen, 1906).

    Institutions of a somewhat similar character, called

    “artel,” exist in Russia to-day, cf. Sir Mackenzie Wallace’s

    “Russia,” ed. 1905: “The sons . . . were always during the

    working season members of an artel. In some of the larger

    towns there are artels of a much more complex kind —

    permanent associations, possessing large capital, and

    pecuniarily responsible for the acts of the individual

    members.” The word “artel,” despite its apparent similarity,

    has, Mr Aylmer Maude assures me, no connection with “ars” or

    “arte.” Its root is that of the verb “rotisya,” to bind

    oneself by an oath; and it is generally admitted to be only

    another form of “rota,” which now signifies a “regimental

    company.” In both words the underlying idea is that of a

    body of men united by an oath. “Tribu” were possibly gentile

    groups, united by common descent, and included individuals

    connected by marriage. Perhaps our words “sects” or “clans”

    would be most appropriate.

CHAPTER XXII — CONCERNING THE SECRETARIES OF PRINCES

The choice of servants is of no little importance to a prince, and they are good or not according to the discrimination of the prince. And the first opinion which one forms of a prince, and of his understanding, is by observing the men he has around him; and when they are capable and faithful he may always be considered wise, because he has known how to recognize the capable and to keep them faithful. But when they are otherwise one cannot form a good opinion of him, for the prime error which he made was in choosing them.

There were none who knew Messer Antonio da Venafro as the servant of Pandolfo Petrucci, Prince of Siena, who would not consider Pandolfo to be a very clever man in having Venafro for his servant. Because there are three classes of intellects: one which comprehends by itself; another which appreciates what others comprehended; and a third which neither comprehends by itself nor by the showing of others; the first is the most excellent, the second is good, the third is useless. Therefore, it follows necessarily that, if Pandolfo was not in the first rank, he was in the second, for whenever one has judgment to know good and bad when it is said and done, although he himself may not have the initiative, yet he can recognize the good and the bad in his servant, and the one he can praise and the other correct; thus the servant cannot hope to deceive him, and is kept honest.

But to enable a prince to form an opinion of his servant there is one test which never fails; when you see the servant thinking more of his own interests than of yours, and seeking inwardly his own profit in everything, such a man will never make a good servant, nor will you ever be able to trust him; because he who has the state of another in his hands ought never to think of himself, but always of his prince, and never pay any attention to matters in which the prince is not concerned.

On the other hand, to keep his servant honest the prince ought to study him, honouring him, enriching him, doing him kindnesses, sharing with him the honours and cares; and at the same time let him see that he cannot stand alone, so that many honours may not make him desire more, many riches make him wish for more, and that many cares may make him dread chances. When, therefore, servants, and princes towards servants, are thus disposed, they can trust each other, but when it is otherwise, the end will always be disastrous for either one or the other.

CHAPTER XXIII — HOW FLATTERERS SHOULD BE AVOIDED

I do not wish to leave out an important branch of this subject, for it is a danger from which princes are with difficulty preserved, unless they are very careful and discriminating. It is that of flatterers, of whom courts are full, because men are so self-complacent in their own affairs, and in a way so deceived in them, that they are preserved with difficulty from this pest, and if they wish to defend themselves they run the danger of falling into contempt. Because there is no other way of guarding oneself from flatterers except letting men understand that to tell you the truth does not offend you; but when every one may tell you the truth, respect for you abates.

Therefore a wise prince ought to hold a third course by choosing the wise men in his state, and giving to them only the liberty of speaking the truth to him, and then only of those things of which he inquires, and of none others; but he ought to question them upon everything, and listen to their opinions, and afterwards form his own conclusions. With these councillors, separately and collectively, he ought to carry himself in such a way that each of them should know that, the more freely he shall speak, the more he shall be preferred; outside of these, he should listen to no one, pursue the thing resolved on, and be steadfast in his resolutions. He who does otherwise is either overthrown by flatterers, or is so often changed by varying opinions that he falls into contempt.

I wish on this subject to adduce a modern example. Fra Luca, the man of affairs to Maximilian,(*) the present emperor, speaking of his majesty, said: He consulted with no one, yet never got his own way in anything. This arose because of his following a practice the opposite to the above; for the emperor is a secretive man — he does not communicate his designs to any one, nor does he receive opinions on them. But as in carrying them into effect they become revealed and known, they are at once obstructed by those men whom he has around him, and he, being pliant, is diverted from them. Hence it follows that those things he does one day he undoes the next, and no one ever understands what he wishes or intends to do, and no one can rely on his resolutions.

    (*) Maximilian I, born in 1459, died 1519, Emperor of the

    Holy Roman Empire. He married, first, Mary, daughter of

    Charles the Bold; after her death, Bianca Sforza; and thus

    became involved in Italian politics.

A prince, therefore, ought always to take counsel, but only when he wishes and not when others wish; he ought rather to discourage every one from offering advice unless he asks it; but, however, he ought to be a constant inquirer, and afterwards a patient listener concerning the things of which he inquired; also, on learning that any one, on any consideration, has not told him the truth, he should let his anger be felt.

And if there are some who think that a prince who conveys an impression of his wisdom is not so through his own ability, but through the good advisers that he has around him, beyond doubt they are deceived, because this is an axiom which never fails: that a prince who is not wise himself will never take good advice, unless by chance he has yielded his affairs entirely to one person who happens to be a very prudent man. In this case indeed he may be well governed, but it would not be for long, because such a governor would in a short time take away his state from him.

But if a prince who is not inexperienced should take counsel from more than one he will never get united counsels, nor will he know how to unite them. Each of the counsellors will think of his own interests, and the prince will not know how to control them or to see through them. And they are not to found otherwise, because men will always prove untrue to you unless they are kept honest by constraint. Therefore it must be inferred that good counsels, whencesoever they come, are born of the wisdom of the prince, and not the wisdom of the prince from good counsels.

CHAPTER XXIV — WHY THE PRINCES OF ITALY HAVE LOST THEIR STATES

The previous suggestions, carefully observed, will enable a new prince to appear well established, and render him at once more secure and fixed in the state than if he had been long seated there. For the actions of a new prince are more narrowly observed than those of an hereditary one, and when they are seen to be able they gain more men and bind far tighter than ancient blood; because men are attracted more by the present than by the past, and when they find the present good they enjoy it and seek no further; they will also make the utmost defence of a prince if he fails them not in other things. Thus it will be a double glory for him to have established a new principality, and adorned and strengthened it with good laws, good arms, good allies, and with a good example; so will it be a double disgrace to him who, born a prince, shall lose his state by want of wisdom.

And if those seigniors are considered who have lost their states in Italy in our times, such as the King of Naples, the Duke of Milan, and others, there will be found in them, firstly, one common defect in regard to arms from the causes which have been discussed at length; in the next place, some one of them will be seen, either to have had the people hostile, or if he has had the people friendly, he has not known how to secure the nobles. In the absence of these defects states that have power enough to keep an army in the field cannot be lost.

Philip of Macedon, not the father of Alexander the Great, but he who was conquered by Titus Quintius, had not much territory compared to the greatness of the Romans and of Greece who attacked him, yet being a warlike man who knew how to attract the people and secure the nobles, he sustained the war against his enemies for many years, and if in the end he lost the dominion of some cities, nevertheless he retained the kingdom.

Therefore, do not let our princes accuse fortune for the loss of their principalities after so many years’ possession, but rather their own sloth, because in quiet times they never thought there could be a change (it is a common defect in man not to make any provision in the calm against the tempest), and when afterwards the bad times came they thought of flight and not of defending themselves, and they hoped that the people, disgusted with the insolence of the conquerors, would recall them. This course, when others fail, may be good, but it is very bad to have neglected all other expedients for that, since you would never wish to fall because you trusted to be able to find someone later on to restore you. This again either does not happen, or, if it does, it will not be for your security, because that deliverance is of no avail which does not depend upon yourself; those only are reliable, certain, and durable that depend on yourself and your valour.

CHAPTER XXV — WHAT FORTUNE CAN EFFECT IN HUMAN AFFAIRS AND HOW TO WITHSTAND HER

It is not unknown to me how many men have had, and still have, the opinion that the affairs of the world are in such wise governed by fortune and by God that men with their wisdom cannot direct them and that no one can even help them; and because of this they would have us believe that it is not necessary to labour much in affairs, but to let chance govern them. This opinion has been more credited in our times because of the great changes in affairs which have been seen, and may still be seen, every day, beyond all human conjecture. Sometimes pondering over this, I am in some degree inclined to their opinion. Nevertheless, not to extinguish our free will, I hold it to be true that Fortune is the arbiter of one-half of our actions,(*) but that she still leaves us to direct the other half, or perhaps a little less.

    (*) Frederick the Great was accustomed to say: “The older

    one gets the more convinced one becomes that his Majesty

    King Chance does three-quarters of the business of this

    miserable universe.” Sorel’s “Eastern Question.”

I compare her to one of those raging rivers, which when in flood overflows the plains, sweeping away trees and buildings, bearing away the soil from place to place; everything flies before it, all yield to its violence, without being able in any way to withstand it; and yet, though its nature be such, it does not follow therefore that men, when the weather becomes fair, shall not make provision, both with defences and barriers, in such a manner that, rising again, the waters may pass away by canal, and their force be neither so unrestrained nor so dangerous. So it happens with fortune, who shows her power where valour has not prepared to resist her, and thither she turns her forces where she knows that barriers and defences have not been raised to constrain her.

And if you will consider Italy, which is the seat of these changes, and which has given to them their impulse, you will see it to be an open country without barriers and without any defence. For if it had been defended by proper valour, as are Germany, Spain, and France, either this invasion would not have made the great changes it has made or it would not have come at all. And this I consider enough to say concerning resistance to fortune in general.

But confining myself more to the particular, I say that a prince may be seen happy to-day and ruined to-morrow without having shown any change of disposition or character. This, I believe, arises firstly from causes that have already been discussed at length, namely, that the prince who relies entirely on fortune is lost when it changes. I believe also that he will be successful who directs his actions according to the spirit of the times, and that he whose actions do not accord with the times will not be successful. Because men are seen, in affairs that lead to the end which every man has before him, namely, glory and riches, to get there by various methods; one with caution, another with haste; one by force, another by skill; one by patience, another by its opposite; and each one succeeds in reaching the goal by a different method. One can also see of two cautious men the one attain his end, the other fail; and similarly, two men by different observances are equally successful, the one being cautious, the other impetuous; all this arises from nothing else than whether or not they conform in their methods to the spirit of the times. This follows from what I have said, that two men working differently bring about the same effect, and of two working similarly, one attains his object and the other does not.

Changes in estate also issue from this, for if, to one who governs himself with caution and patience, times and affairs converge in such a way that his administration is successful, his fortune is made; but if times and affairs change, he is ruined if he does not change his course of action. But a man is not often found sufficiently circumspect to know how to accommodate himself to the change, both because he cannot deviate from what nature inclines him to do, and also because, having always prospered by acting in one way, he cannot be persuaded that it is well to leave it; and, therefore, the cautious man, when it is time to turn adventurous, does not know how to do it, hence he is ruined; but had he changed his conduct with the times fortune would not have changed.

Pope Julius the Second went to work impetuously in all his affairs, and found the times and circumstances conform so well to that line of action that he always met with success. Consider his first enterprise against Bologna, Messer Giovanni Bentivogli being still alive. The Venetians were not agreeable to it, nor was the King of Spain, and he had the enterprise still under discussion with the King of France; nevertheless he personally entered upon the expedition with his accustomed boldness and energy, a move which made Spain and the Venetians stand irresolute and passive, the latter from fear, the former from desire to recover the kingdom of Naples; on the other hand, he drew after him the King of France, because that king, having observed the movement, and desiring to make the Pope his friend so as to humble the Venetians, found it impossible to refuse him. Therefore Julius with his impetuous action accomplished what no other pontiff with simple human wisdom could have done; for if he had waited in Rome until he could get away, with his plans arranged and everything fixed, as any other pontiff would have done, he would never have succeeded. Because the King of France would have made a thousand excuses, and the others would have raised a thousand fears.

I will leave his other actions alone, as they were all alike, and they all succeeded, for the shortness of his life did not let him experience the contrary; but if circumstances had arisen which required him to go cautiously, his ruin would have followed, because he would never have deviated from those ways to which nature inclined him.

I conclude, therefore that, fortune being changeful and mankind steadfast in their ways, so long as the two are in agreement men are successful, but unsuccessful when they fall out. For my part I consider that it is better to be adventurous than cautious, because fortune is a woman, and if you wish to keep her under it is necessary to beat and ill-use her; and it is seen that she allows herself to be mastered by the adventurous rather than by those who go to work more coldly. She is, therefore, always, woman-like, a lover of young men, because they are less cautious, more violent, and with more audacity command her.

CHAPTER XXVI — AN EXHORTATION TO LIBERATE ITALY FROM THE BARBARIANS

Having carefully considered the subject of the above discourses, and wondering within myself whether the present times were propitious to a new prince, and whether there were elements that would give an opportunity to a wise and virtuous one to introduce a new order of things which would do honour to him and good to the people of this country, it appears to me that so many things concur to favour a new prince that I never knew a time more fit than the present.

And if, as I said, it was necessary that the people of Israel should be captive so as to make manifest the ability of Moses; that the Persians should be oppressed by the Medes so as to discover the greatness of the soul of Cyrus; and that the Athenians should be dispersed to illustrate the capabilities of Theseus: then at the present time, in order to discover the virtue of an Italian spirit, it was necessary that Italy should be reduced to the extremity that she is now in, that she should be more enslaved than the Hebrews, more oppressed than the Persians, more scattered than the Athenians; without head, without order, beaten, despoiled, torn, overrun; and to have endured every kind of desolation.

Although lately some spark may have been shown by one, which made us think he was ordained by God for our redemption, nevertheless it was afterwards seen, in the height of his career, that fortune rejected him; so that Italy, left as without life, waits for him who shall yet heal her wounds and put an end to the ravaging and plundering of Lombardy, to the swindling and taxing of the kingdom and of Tuscany, and cleanse those sores that for long have festered. It is seen how she entreats God to send someone who shall deliver her from these wrongs and barbarous insolencies. It is seen also that she is ready and willing to follow a banner if only someone will raise it.

Nor is there to be seen at present one in whom she can place more hope than in your illustrious house,(*) with its valour and fortune, favoured by God and by the Church of which it is now the chief, and which could be made the head of this redemption. This will not be difficult if you will recall to yourself the actions and lives of the men I have named. And although they were great and wonderful men, yet they were men, and each one of them had no more opportunity than the present offers, for their enterprises were neither more just nor easier than this, nor was God more their friend than He is yours.

    (*) Giuliano de Medici. He had just been created a cardinal

    by Leo X. In 1523 Giuliano was elected Pope, and took the

    title of Clement VII.

With us there is great justice, because that war is just which is necessary, and arms are hallowed when there is no other hope but in them. Here there is the greatest willingness, and where the willingness is great the difficulties cannot be great if you will only follow those men to whom I have directed your attention. Further than this, how extraordinarily the ways of God have been manifested beyond example: the sea is divided, a cloud has led the way, the rock has poured forth water, it has rained manna, everything has contributed to your greatness; you ought to do the rest. God is not willing to do everything, and thus take away our free will and that share of glory which belongs to us.

And it is not to be wondered at if none of the above-named Italians have been able to accomplish all that is expected from your illustrious house; and if in so many revolutions in Italy, and in so many campaigns, it has always appeared as if military virtue were exhausted, this has happened because the old order of things was not good, and none of us have known how to find a new one. And nothing honours a man more than to establish new laws and new ordinances when he himself was newly risen. Such things when they are well founded and dignified will make him revered and admired, and in Italy there are not wanting opportunities to bring such into use in every form.

Here there is great valour in the limbs whilst it fails in the head. Look attentively at the duels and the hand-to-hand combats, how superior the Italians are in strength, dexterity, and subtlety. But when it comes to armies they do not bear comparison, and this springs entirely from the insufficiency of the leaders, since those who are capable are not obedient, and each one seems to himself to know, there having never been any one so distinguished above the rest, either by valour or fortune, that others would yield to him. Hence it is that for so long a time, and during so much fighting in the past twenty years, whenever there has been an army wholly Italian, it has always given a poor account of itself; the first witness to this is Il Taro, afterwards Allesandria, Capua, Genoa, Vaila, Bologna, Mestri.(*)

    (*) The battles of Il Taro, 1495; Alessandria, 1499; Capua,

    1501; Genoa, 1507; Vaila, 1509; Bologna, 1511; Mestri, 1513.

If, therefore, your illustrious house wishes to follow these remarkable men who have redeemed their country, it is necessary before all things, as a true foundation for every enterprise, to be provided with your own forces, because there can be no more faithful, truer, or better soldiers. And although singly they are good, altogether they will be much better when they find themselves commanded by their prince, honoured by him, and maintained at his expense. Therefore it is necessary to be prepared with such arms, so that you can be defended against foreigners by Italian valour.

And although Swiss and Spanish infantry may be considered very formidable, nevertheless there is a defect in both, by reason of which a third order would not only be able to oppose them, but might be relied upon to overthrow them. For the Spaniards cannot resist cavalry, and the Switzers are afraid of infantry whenever they encounter them in close combat. Owing to this, as has been and may again be seen, the Spaniards are unable to resist French cavalry, and the Switzers are overthrown by Spanish infantry. And although a complete proof of this latter cannot be shown, nevertheless there was some evidence of it at the battle of Ravenna, when the Spanish infantry were confronted by German battalions, who follow the same tactics as the Swiss; when the Spaniards, by agility of body and with the aid of their shields, got in under the pikes of the Germans and stood out of danger, able to attack, while the Germans stood helpless, and, if the cavalry had not dashed up, all would have been over with them. It is possible, therefore, knowing the defects of both these infantries, to invent a new one, which will resist cavalry and not be afraid of infantry; this need not create a new order of arms, but a variation upon the old. And these are the kind of improvements which confer reputation and power upon a new prince.

This opportunity, therefore, ought not to be allowed to pass for letting Italy at last see her liberator appear. Nor can one express the love with which he would be received in all those provinces which have suffered so much from these foreign scourings, with what thirst for revenge, with what stubborn faith, with what devotion, with what tears. What door would be closed to him? Who would refuse obedience to him? What envy would hinder him? What Italian would refuse him homage? To all of us this barbarous dominion stinks. Let, therefore, your illustrious house take up this charge with that courage and hope with which all just enterprises are undertaken, so that under its standard our native country may be ennobled, and under its auspices may be verified that saying of Petrarch:

    Virtu contro al Furore

    Prendera l’arme, e fia il combatter corto:

    Che l’antico valore

    Negli italici cuor non e ancor morto.

    Virtue against fury shall advance the fight,

    And it i’ th’ combat soon shall put to flight:

    For the old Roman valour is not dead,

    Nor in th’ Italians’ brests extinguished.

    Edward Dacre, 1640.

NINIAN HILL THOMSON TRANSLATION, 1910

CONTENTS

Dedication: To the Magnificent Lorenzo Di Piero De’ Medici

Chapter I: Of the Various Kinds of Princedom, and of the Ways in Which They Are Acquired

Chapter II: Of Hereditary Princedoms

Chapter III: Of Mixed Princedoms

Chapter IV: Why the Kingdom of Darius, Conquered by Alexander, Did Not, on Alexander’s Death, Rebel Against His Successors

Chapter V: How Cities or Provinces Which Before Their Acquisition Have Lived Under Their Own Laws Are To Be Governed

Chapter VI: Of New Princedoms Which a Prince Acquires With His Own Arms and by Merit

Chapter VII: Of New Princedoms Acquired By the Aid of Others and By Good Fortune

Chapter VIII: Of Those Who By Their Crimes Come to Be Princes

Chapter IX: Of the Civil Princedom

Chapter X: How the Strength of All Princedoms Should Be Measured

Chapter XI: Of Ecclesiastical Princedoms

Chapter XII: How Many Different Kinds of Soldiers There Are, and of Mercenaries

Chapter XIII: Of Auxiliary, Mixed, and National Arms

Chapter XIV: Of the Duty of a Prince In Respect of Military Affairs

Chapter XV: Of the Qualities In Respect of Which Men, and Most of all Princes, Are Praised or Blamed

Chapter XVI: Of Liberality and Miserliness

Chapter XVII: Of Cruelty and Clemency, and Whether It Is Better To Be Loved or Feared

Chapter XVIII: How Princes Should Keep Faith

Chapter XIX: That a Prince Should Seek to Escape Contempt and Hatred

Chapter XX: Whether Fortresses, and Certain Other Expedients to Which Princes Often Have Recourse, are Profitable or Hurtful

Chapter XXI: How a Prince Should Bear Himself So As to Acquire Reputation

Chapter XXII: Of the Secretaries of Princes

Chapter XXIII: That Flatterers Should Be Shunned

Chapter XXIV: Why the Princes of Italy Have Lost Their States

Chapter XXV: What Fortune Can Effect in Human Affairs, and How She May Be Withstood

Chapter XXVI: An Exhortation to Liberate Italy from the Barbarians

Dedication: To the Magnificent Lorenzo Di Piero De’ Medici

It is customary for such as seek a Prince’s favour, to present themselves before him with those things of theirs which they themselves most value, or in which they perceive him chiefly to delight. Accordingly, we often see horses, armour, cloth of gold, precious stones, and the like costly gifts, offered to Princes as worthy of their greatness. Desiring in like manner to approach your Magnificence with some token of my devotion, I have found among my possessions none that I so much prize and esteem as a knowledge of the actions of great men, acquired in the course of a long experience of modern affairs and a continual study of antiquity. Which knowledge most carefully and patiently pondered over and sifted by me, and now reduced into this little book, I send to your Magnificence. And though I deem the work unworthy of your greatness, yet am I bold enough to hope that your courtesy will dispose you to accept it, considering that I can offer you no better gift than the means of mastering in a very brief time, all that in the course of so many years, and at the cost of so many hardships and dangers, I have learned, and know.

This work I have not adorned or amplified with rounded periods, swelling and high-flown language, or any other of those extrinsic attractions and allurements wherewith many authors are wont to set off and grace their writings; since it is my desire that it should either pass wholly unhonoured, or that the truth of its matter and the importance of its subject should alone recommend it.

Nor would I have it thought presumption that a person of very mean and humble station should venture to discourse and lay down rules concerning the government of Princes. For as those who make maps of countries place themselves low down in the plains to study the character of mountains and elevated lands, and place themselves high up on the mountains to get a better view of the plains, so in like manner to understand the People a man should be a Prince, and to have a clear notion of Princes he should belong to the People.

Let your Magnificence, then, accept this little gift in the spirit in which I offer it; wherein, if you diligently read and study it, you will recognize my extreme desire that you should attain to that eminence which Fortune and your own merits promise you. Should you from the height of your greatness some time turn your eyes to these humble regions, you will become aware how undeservedly I have to endure the keen and unremitting malignity of Fortune.

Niccolò Machiavelli

Chapter I: Of the Various Kinds of Princedom, and of the Ways in Which They Are Acquired

All the States and Governments by which men are or ever have been ruled, have been and are either Republics or Princedoms. Princedoms are either hereditary, in which the sovereignty is derived through an ancient line of ancestors, or they are new. New Princedoms are either wholly new, as that of Milan to Francesco Sforza; or they are like limbs joined on to the hereditary possessions of the Prince who acquires them, as the Kingdom of Naples to the dominions of the King of Spain. The States thus acquired have either been used to live under a Prince or have been free; and he who acquires them does so either by his own arms or by the arms of others, and either by good fortune or by merit.

Chapter II: Of Hereditary Princedoms

Of Republics I shall not now speak, having elsewhere spoken of them at length. Here I shall treat exclusively of Princedoms, and, filling in the outline above traced out, shall proceed to examine how such States are to be governed and maintained.

I say, then, that hereditary States, accustomed to the family of their Prince, are maintained with far less difficulty than new States, since all that is required is that the Prince shall not depart from the usages of his ancestors, trusting for the rest to deal with events as they arise. So that if an hereditary Prince be of average address, he will always maintain himself in his Princedom, unless deprived of it by some extraordinary and irresistible force; and even if so deprived will recover it, should any, even the least, mishap overtake the usurper. We have in Italy an example of this in the Duke of Ferrara, who never could have withstood the attacks of the Venetians in 1484, nor those of Pope Julius in 1510, had not his authority in that State been consolidated by time. For since a Prince by birth has fewer occasions and less need to give offence, he ought to be better loved, and will naturally be popular with his subjects unless outrageous vices make him odious. Moreover, the very antiquity and continuance of his rule will efface the memories and causes which lead to innovation. For one change always leaves a dovetail into which another will fit.

Chapter III: Of Mixed Princedoms

But in new Princedoms difficulties abound. And, first, if the Princedom be not wholly new, but joined on to the ancient dominions of the Prince, so as to form with them what may be termed a mixed Princedom, changes will come from a cause common to all new States, namely, that men, thinking to better their condition, are always ready to change masters, and in this expectation will take up arms against any ruler; wherein they deceive themselves, and find afterwards by experience that they are worse off than before. This again results naturally and necessarily from the circumstance that the Prince cannot avoid giving offence to his new subjects, either in respect of the troops he quarters on them, or of some other of the numberless vexations attendant on a new acquisition. And in this way you may find that you have enemies in all those whom you have injured in seizing the Princedom, yet cannot keep the friendship of those who helped you to gain it; since you can neither reward them as they expect, nor yet, being under obligations to them, use violent remedies against them. For however strong you may be in respect of your army, it is essential that in entering a new Province you should have the good will of its inhabitants.

Hence it happened that Louis XII of France, speedily gaining possession of Milan, as speedily lost it; and that on the occasion of its first capture, Lodovico Sforza was able with his own forces only to take it from him. For the very people who had opened the gates to the French King, when they found themselves deceived in their expectations and hopes of future benefits, could not put up with the insolence of their new ruler. True it is that when a State rebels and is again got under, it will not afterwards be lost so easily. For the Prince, using the rebellion as a pretext, will not scruple to secure himself by punishing the guilty, bringing the suspected to trial, and otherwise strengthening his position in the points where it was weak. So that if to recover Milan from the French it was enough on the first occasion that a Duke Lodovico should raise alarms on the frontiers to wrest it from them a second time the whole world had to be ranged against them, and their armies destroyed and driven out of Italy. And this for the reasons above assigned. And yet, for a second time, Milan was lost to the King. The general causes of its first loss have been shown. It remains to note the causes of the second, and to point out the remedies which the French King had, or which might have been used by another in like circumstances to maintain his conquest more successfully than he did.

I say, then, that those States which upon their acquisition are joined on to the ancient dominions of the Prince who acquires them, are either of the same Province and tongue as the people of these dominions, or they are not. When they are, there is a great ease in retaining them, especially when they have not been accustomed to live in freedom. To hold them securely it is enough to have rooted out the line of the reigning Prince; because if in other respects the old condition of things be continued, and there be no discordance in their customs, men live peaceably with one another, as we see to have been the case in Brittany, Burgundy, Gascony, and Normandy, which have so long been united to France. For although there be some slight difference in their languages, their customs are similar, and they can easily get on together. He, therefore, who acquires such a State, if he mean to keep it, must see to two things; first, that the blood of the ancient line of Princes be destroyed; second, that no change be made in respect of laws or taxes; for in this way the newly acquired State speedily becomes incorporated with the hereditary.

But when States are acquired in a country differing in language, usages, and laws, difficulties multiply, and great good fortune, as well as address, is needed to overcome them. One of the best and most efficacious methods for dealing with such a State, is for the Prince who acquires it to go and dwell there in person, since this will tend to make his tenure more secure and lasting. This course has been followed by the Turk with regard to Greece, who, had he not, in addition to all his other precautions for securing that Province, himself come to live in it, could never have kept his hold of it. For when you are on the spot, disorders are detected in their beginnings and remedies can be readily applied; but when you are at a distance, they are not heard of until they have gathered strength and the case is past cure. Moreover, the Province in which you take up your abode is not pillaged by your officers; the people are pleased to have a ready recourse to their Prince; and have all the more reason if they are well disposed, to love, if disaffected, to fear him. A foreign enemy desiring to attack that State would be cautious how he did so. In short, where the Prince resides in person, it will be extremely difficult to oust him.

Another excellent expedient is to send colonies into one or two places, so that these may become, as it were, the keys of the Province; for you must either do this, or else keep up a numerous force of men-at-arms and foot soldiers. A Prince need not spend much on colonies. He can send them out and support them at little or no charge to himself, and the only persons to whom he gives offence are those whom he deprives of their fields and houses to bestow them on the new inhabitants. Those who are thus injured form but a small part of the community, and remaining scattered and poor can never become dangerous. All others being left unmolested, are in consequence easily quieted, and at the same time are afraid to make a false move, lest they share the fate of those who have been deprived of their possessions. In few words, these colonies cost less than soldiers, are more faithful, and give less offence, while those who are offended, being, as I have said, poor and dispersed, cannot hurt. And let it here be noted that men are either to be kindly treated, or utterly crushed, since they can revenge lighter injuries, but not graver. Wherefore the injury we do to a man should be of a sort to leave no fear of reprisals.

But if instead of colonies you send troops, the cost is vastly greater, and the whole revenues of the country are spent in guarding it; so that the gain becomes a loss, and much deeper offence is given; since in shifting the quarters of your soldiers from place to place the whole country suffers hardship, which as all feel, all are made enemies; and enemies who remaining, although vanquished, in their own homes, have power to hurt. In every way, therefore, this mode of defence is as disadvantageous as that by colonizing is useful.

The Prince who establishes himself in a Province whose laws and language differ from those of his own people, ought also to make himself the head and protector of his feebler neighbours, and endeavour to weaken the stronger, and must see that by no accident shall any other stranger as powerful as himself find an entrance there. For it will always happen that some such person will be called in by those of the Province who are discontented either through ambition or fear; as we see of old the Romans brought into Greece by the Aetolians, and in every other country that they entered, invited there by its inhabitants. And the usual course of things is that so soon as a formidable stranger enters a Province, all the weaker powers side with him, moved thereto by the ill-will they bear towards him who has hitherto kept them in subjection. So that in respect of these lesser powers, no trouble is needed to gain them over, for at once, together, and of their own accord, they throw in their lot with the government of the stranger. The new Prince, therefore, has only to see that they do not increase too much in strength, and with his own forces, aided by their good will, can easily subdue any who are powerful, so as to remain supreme in the Province. He who does not manage this matter well, will soon lose whatever he has gained, and while he retains it will find in it endless troubles and annoyances.

In dealing with the countries of which they took possession the Romans diligently followed the methods I have described. They planted colonies, conciliated weaker powers without adding to their strength, humbled the great, and never suffered a formidable stranger to acquire influence. A single example will suffice to show this. In Greece the Romans took the Achaians and Aetolians into their pay; the Macedonian monarchy was humbled; Antiochus was driven out. But the services of the Achaians and Aetolians never obtained for them any addition to their power; no persuasions on the part of Philip could induce the Romans to be his friends on the condition of sparing him humiliation; nor could all the power of Antiochus bring them to consent to his exercising any authority within that Province. And in thus acting the Romans did as all wise rulers should, who have to consider not only present difficulties but also future, against which they must use all diligence to provide; for these, if they be foreseen while yet remote, admit of easy remedy, but if their approach be awaited, are already past cure, the disorder having become hopeless; realizing what the physicians tell us of hectic fever, that in its beginning it is easy to cure, but hard to recognize; whereas, after a time, not having been detected and treated at the first, it becomes easy to recognize but impossible to cure.

And so it is with State affairs. For the distempers of a State being discovered while yet inchoate, which can only be done by a sagacious ruler, may easily be dealt with; but when, from not being observed, they are suffered to grow until they are obvious to every one, there is no longer any remedy. The Romans, therefore, foreseeing evils while they were yet far off, always provided against them, and never suffered them to take their course for the sake of avoiding war; since they knew that war is not so to be avoided, but is only postponed to the advantage of the other side. They chose, therefore, to make war with Philip and Antiochus in Greece, that they might not have to make it with them in Italy, although for a while they might have escaped both. This they did not desire, nor did the maxim leave it to Time, which the wise men of our own day have always on their lips, ever recommend itself to them. What they looked to enjoy were the fruits of their own valour and foresight. For Time, driving all things before it, may bring with it evil as well as good.

But let us now go back to France and examine whether she has followed any of those methods of which I have made mention. I shall speak of Louis and not of Charles, because from the former having held longer possession of Italy, his manner of acting is more plainly seen. You will find, then, that he has done the direct opposite of what he should have done in order to retain a foreign State.

King Louis was brought into Italy by the ambition of the Venetians, who hoped by his coming to gain for themselves a half of the State of Lombardy. I will not blame this coming, nor the part taken by the King, because, desiring to gain a footing in Italy, where he had no friends, but on the contrary, owing to the conduct of Charles, every door was shut against him, he was driven to accept such friendships as he could get. And his designs might easily have succeeded had he not made mistakes in other particulars of conduct.

By the recovery of Lombardy, Louis at once regained the credit which Charles had lost. Genoa made submission; the Florentines came to terms; the Marquis of Mantua, the Duke of Ferrara, the Bentivogli, the Countess of Forli, the Lords of Faenza, Pesaro, Rimini, Camerino, and Piombino, the citizens of Lucca, Pisa, and Siena, all came forward offering their friendship. The Venetians, who to obtain possession of a couple of towns in Lombardy had made the French King master of two-thirds of Italy, had now cause to repent the rash game they had played.

Let any one, therefore, consider how easily King Louis might have maintained his authority in Italy had he observed the rules which I have noted above, and secured and protected all those friends of his, who being weak, and fearful, some of the Church, some of the Venetians, were of necessity obliged to attach themselves to him, and with whose assistance, for they were many, he might readily have made himself safe against any other powerful State. But no sooner was he in Milan than he took a contrary course, in helping Pope Alexander to occupy Romagna; not perceiving that in seconding this enterprise he weakened himself by alienating friends and those who had thrown themselves into his arms, while he strengthened the Church by adding great temporal power to the spiritual power which of itself confers so mighty an authority. Making this first mistake, he was forced to follow it up, until at last, in order to curb the ambition of Pope Alexander, and prevent him becoming master of Tuscany, he was obliged to come himself into Italy.

And as though it were not enough for him to have aggrandized the Church and stripped himself of friends, he must needs in his desire to possess the Kingdom of Naples, divide it with the King of Spain; thus bringing into Italy, where before he had been supreme, a rival to whom the ambitious and discontented in that Province might have recourse. And whereas he might have left in Naples a King willing to hold as his tributary, he displaced him to make way for another strong enough to effect his expulsion. The wish to acquire is no doubt a natural and common sentiment, and when men attempt things within their power, they will always be praised rather than blamed. But when they persist in attempts that are beyond their power, mishaps and blame ensue. If France, therefore, with her own forces could have attacked Naples, she should have done so. If she could not, she ought not to have divided it. And if her partition of Lombardy with the Venetians may be excused as the means whereby a footing was gained in Italy, this other partition is to be condemned as not justified by the like necessity.

Louis, then, had made these five blunders. He had destroyed weaker States, he had strengthened a Prince already strong, he had brought into the country a very powerful stranger, he had not come to reside, and he had not sent colonies. And yet all these blunders might not have proved disastrous to him while he lived, had he not added to them a sixth in depriving the Venetians of their dominions. For had he neither aggrandized the Church, nor brought Spain into Italy, it might have been at once reasonable and necessary to humble the Venetians; but after committing himself to these other courses, he should never have consented to the ruin of Venice. For while the Venetians were powerful they would always have kept others back from an attempt on Lombardy, as well because they never would have agreed to that enterprise on any terms save of themselves being made its masters, as because others would never have desired to take it from France in order to hand it over to them, nor would ever have ventured to defy both. And if it be said that King Louis ceded Romagna to Alexander, and Naples to Spain in order to avoid war, I answer that for the reasons already given, you ought never to suffer your designs to be crossed in order to avoid war, since war is not so to be avoided, but is only deferred to your disadvantage. And if others should allege the King’s promise to the Pope to undertake that enterprise on his behalf, in return for the dissolution of his marriage, and for the Cardinal’s hat conferred on d’Amboise, I answer by referring to what I say further on concerning the faith of Princes and how it is to be kept.

King Louis, therefore, lost Lombardy from not following any one of the methods pursued by others who have taken Provinces with the resolve to keep them. Nor is this anything strange, but only what might reasonably and naturally be looked for. And on this very subject I spoke to d’Amboise at Nantes, at the time when Duke Valentino, as Cesare Borgia, son to Pope Alexander, was vulgarly called, was occupying Romagna. For, on the Cardinal saying to me that the Italians did not understand war, I answered that the French did not understand statecraft, for had they done so, they never would have allowed the Church to grow so powerful. And the event shows that the aggrandizement of the Church and of Spain in Italy has been brought about by France, and that the ruin of France has been wrought by them. Whence we may draw the general axiom, which never or rarely errs, that he who is the cause of another’s greatness is himself undone, since he must work either by address or force, each of which excites distrust in the person raised to power.

Chapter IV: Why the Kingdom of Darius, Conquered by Alexander, Did Not, on Alexander’s Death, Rebel Against His Successors

Alexander the Great having achieved the conquest of Asia in a few years, and dying before he had well entered on possession, it might have been expected, having regard to the difficulty of preserving newly acquired States, that on his death the whole country would rise in revolt. Nevertheless, his successors were able to keep their hold, and found in doing so no other difficulty than arose from their own ambition and mutual jealousies.

If any one think this strange and ask the cause, I answer, that all the Princedoms of which we have record have been governed in one or other of two ways, either by a sole Prince, all others being his servants permitted by his grace and favour to assist in governing the kingdom as his ministers; or else, by a Prince with his Barons who hold their rank, not by the favour of a superior Lord, but by antiquity of blood, and who have States and subjects of their own who recognize them as their rulers and entertain for them a natural affection. States governed by a sole Prince and by his servants vest in him a more complete authority; because throughout the land none but he is recognized as sovereign, and if obedience be yielded to any others, it is yielded as to his ministers and officers for whom personally no special love is felt.

Of these two forms of government we have examples in our own days in the Turk and the King of France. The whole Turkish empire is governed by a sole Prince, all others being his slaves. Dividing his kingdom into sandjaks, he sends thither different governors whom he shifts and changes at his pleasure. The King of France, on the other hand, is surrounded by a multitude of nobles of ancient descent, each acknowledged and loved by subjects of his own, and each asserting a precedence in rank of which the King can deprive him only at his peril.

He, therefore, who considers the different character of these two States, will perceive that it would be difficult to gain possession of that of the Turk, but that once won it might be easily held. The obstacles to its conquest are that the invader cannot be called in by a native nobility, nor expect his enterprise to be aided by the defection of those whom the sovereign has around him. And this for the various reasons already given, namely, that all being slaves and under obligations they are not easily corrupted, or if corrupted can render little assistance, being unable, as I have already explained, to carry the people with them. Whoever, therefore, attacks the Turk must reckon on finding a united people, and must trust rather to his own strength than to divisions on the other side. But were his adversary once overcome and defeated in the field, so that he could not repair his armies, no cause for anxiety would remain, except in the family of the Prince; which being extirpated, there would be none else to fear; for since all beside are without credit with the people, the invader, as before his victory he had nothing to hope from them, so after it has nothing to dread.

But the contrary is the case in kingdoms governed like that of France, into which, because men who are discontented and desirous of change are always to be found, you may readily procure an entrance by gaining over some Baron of the Realm. Such persons, for the reasons already given, are able to open the way to you for the invasion of their country and to render its conquest easy. But afterwards the effort to hold your ground involves you in endless difficulties, as well in respect of those who have helped you, as of those whom you have overthrown. Nor will it be enough to have destroyed the family of the Prince, since all those other Lords remain to put themselves at the head of new movements; whom being unable either to content or to destroy, you lose the State whenever occasion serves them.

Now, if you examine the nature of the government of Darius, you will find that it resembled that of the Turk, and, consequently, that it was necessary for Alexander, first of all, to defeat him utterly and strip him of his dominions; after which defeat, Darius having died, the country, for the causes above explained, was permanently secured to Alexander. And had his successors continued united they might have enjoyed it undisturbed, since there arose no disorders in that kingdom save those of their own creating.

But kingdoms ordered like that of France cannot be retained with the same ease. Hence the repeated risings of Spain, Gaul, and Greece against the Romans, resulting from the number of small Princedoms of which these Provinces were made up. For while the memory of these lasted, the Romans could never think their tenure safe. But when that memory was worn out by the authority and long continuance of their rule, they gained a secure hold, and were able afterwards in their contests among themselves, each to carry with him some portion of these Provinces, according as each had acquired influence there; for these, on the extinction of the line of their old Princes, came to recognize no other Lords than the Romans.

Bearing all this in mind, no one need wonder at the ease wherewith Alexander was able to lay a firm hold on Asia, nor that Pyrrhus and many others found difficulty in preserving other acquisitions; since this arose, not from the less or greater merit of the conquerors, but from the different character of the States with which they had to deal.

Chapter V: How Cities or Provinces Which Before Their Acquisition Have Lived Under Their Own Laws Are To Be Governed

When a newly acquired State has been accustomed, as I have said, to live under its own laws and in freedom, there are three methods whereby it may be held. The first is to destroy it; the second, to go and reside there in person; the third, to suffer it to live on under its own laws, subjecting it to a tribute, and entrusting its government to a few of the inhabitants who will keep the rest your friends. Such a Government, since it is the creature of the new Prince, will see that it cannot stand without his protection and support, and must therefore do all it can to maintain him; and a city accustomed to live in freedom, if it is to be preserved at all, is more easily controlled through its own citizens than in any other way.

We have examples of all these methods in the histories of the Spartans and the Romans. The Spartans held Athens and Thebes by creating oligarchies in these cities, yet lost them in the end. The Romans, to retain Capua, Carthage, and Numantia, destroyed them and never lost them. On the other hand, when they thought to hold Greece as the Spartans had held it, leaving it its freedom and allowing it to be governed by its own laws, they failed, and had to destroy many cities of that Province before they could secure it. For, in truth, there is no sure way of holding other than by destroying, and whoever becomes master of a City accustomed to live in freedom and does not destroy it, may reckon on being destroyed by it. For if it should rebel, it can always screen itself under the name of liberty and its ancient laws, which no length of time, nor any benefits conferred will ever cause it to forget; and do what you will, and take what care you may, unless the inhabitants be scattered and dispersed, this name, and the old order of things, will never cease to be remembered, but will at once be turned against you whenever misfortune overtakes you, as when Pisa rose against the Florentines after a hundred years of servitude.

If, however, the newly acquired City or Province has been accustomed to live under a Prince, and his line is extinguished, it will be impossible for the citizens, used, on the one hand, to obey, and deprived, on the other, of their old ruler, to agree to choose a leader from among themselves; and as they know not how to live as freemen, and are therefore slow to take up arms, a stranger may readily gain them over and attach them to his cause. But in Republics there is a stronger vitality, a fiercer hatred, a keener thirst for revenge. The memory of their former freedom will not let them rest; so that the safest course is either to destroy them, or to go and live in them.

Chapter VI: Of New Princedoms Which a Prince Acquires With His Own Arms and by Merit

Let no man marvel if in what I am about to say concerning Princedoms wholly new, both as regards the Prince and the form of Government, I cite the highest examples. For since men for the most part follow in the footsteps and imitate the actions of others, and yet are unable to adhere exactly to those paths which others have taken, or attain to the virtues of those whom they would resemble, the wise man should always follow the roads that have been trodden by the great, and imitate those who have most excelled, so that if he cannot reach their perfection, he may at least acquire something of its savour. Acting in this like the skilful archer, who seeing that the object he would hit is distant, and knowing the range of his bow, takes aim much above the destined mark; not designing that his arrow should strike so high, but that flying high it may alight at the point intended.

I say, then, that in entirely new Princedoms where the Prince himself is new, the difficulty of maintaining possession varies with the greater or less ability of him who acquires possession. And, because the mere fact of a private person rising to be a Prince presupposes either merit or good fortune, it will be seen that the presence of one or other of these two conditions lessens, to some extent, many difficulties. And yet, he who is less beholden to Fortune has often in the end the better success; and it may be for the advantage of a Prince that, from his having no other territories, he is obliged to reside in person in the State which he has acquired.

Looking first to those who have become Princes by their merit and not by their good fortune, I say that the most excellent among them are Moses, Cyrus, Romulus, Theseus, and the like. And though perhaps I ought not to name Moses, he being merely an instrument for carrying out the Divine commands, he is still to be admired for those qualities which made him worthy to converse with God. But if we consider Cyrus and the others who have acquired or founded kingdoms, they will all be seen to be admirable. And if their actions and the particular institutions of which they were the authors be studied, they will be found not to differ from those of Moses, instructed though he was by so great a teacher. Moreover, on examining their lives and actions, we shall see that they were debtors to Fortune for nothing beyond the opportunity which enabled them to shape things as they pleased, without which the force of their spirit would have been spent in vain; as on the other hand, opportunity would have offered itself in vain, had the capacity for turning it to account been wanting. It was necessary, therefore, that Moses should find the children of Israel in bondage in Egypt, and oppressed by the Egyptians, in order that they might be disposed to follow him, and so escape from their servitude. It was fortunate for Romulus that he found no home in Alba, but was exposed at the time of his birth, to the end that he might become king and founder of the City of Rome. It was necessary that Cyrus should find the Persians discontented with the rule of the Medes, and the Medes enervated and effeminate from a prolonged peace. Nor could Theseus have displayed his great qualities had he not found the Athenians disunited and dispersed. But while it was their opportunities that made these men fortunate, it was their own merit that enabled them to recognize these opportunities and turn them to account, to the glory and prosperity of their country.

They who come to the Princedom, as these did, by virtuous paths, acquire with difficulty, but keep with ease. The difficulties which they have in acquiring arise mainly from the new laws and institutions which they are forced to introduce in founding and securing their government. And let it be noted that there is no more delicate matter to take in hand, nor more dangerous to conduct, nor more doubtful in its success, than to set up as a leader in the introduction of changes. For he who innovates will have for his enemies all those who are well off under the existing order of things, and only lukewarm supporters in those who might be better off under the new. This lukewarm temper arises partly from the fear of adversaries who have the laws on their side, and partly from the incredulity of mankind, who will never admit the merit of anything new, until they have seen it proved by the event. The result, however, is that whenever the enemies of change make an attack, they do so with all the zeal of partisans, while the others defend themselves so feebly as to endanger both themselves and their cause.

But to get a clearer understanding of this part of our subject, we must look whether these innovators can stand alone, or whether they depend for aid upon others; in other words, whether to carry out their ends they must resort to entreaty, or can prevail by force. In the former case they always fare badly and bring nothing to a successful issue; but when they depend upon their own resources and can employ force, they seldom fail. Hence it comes that all armed Prophets have been victorious, and all unarmed Prophets have been destroyed.

For, besides what has been said, it should be borne in mind that the temper of the multitude is fickle, and that while it is easy to persuade them of a thing, it is hard to fix them in that persuasion. Wherefore, matters should be so ordered that when men no longer believe of their own accord, they may be compelled to believe by force. Moses, Cyrus, Theseus, and Romulus could never have made their ordinances be observed for any length of time had they been unarmed, as was the case, in our own days, with the Friar Girolamo Savonarola, whose new institutions came to nothing so soon as the multitude began to waver in their faith; since he had not the means to keep those who had been believers steadfast in their belief, or to make unbelievers believe.

Such persons, therefore, have great difficulty in carrying out their designs; but all their difficulties are on the road, and may be overcome by courage. Having conquered these, and coming to be held in reverence, and having destroyed all who were jealous of their influence, they remain powerful, safe, honoured, and prosperous.

To the great examples cited above, I would add one other, of less note indeed, but assuredly bearing some proportion to them, and which may stand for all others of a like character. I mean the example of Hiero the Syracusan. He from a private station rose to be Prince of Syracuse, and he too was indebted to Fortune only for his opportunity. For the Syracusans being oppressed, chose him to be their Captain, which office he so discharged as deservedly to be made their King. For even while a private citizen his merit was so remarkable, that one who writes of him says, he lacked nothing that a King should have save the Kingdom. Doing away with the old army, he organized a new, abandoned existing alliances and assumed new allies, and with an army and allies of his own, was able on that foundation to build what superstructure he pleased; having trouble enough in acquiring, but none in preserving what he had acquired.

Chapter VII: Of New Princedoms Acquired By the Aid of Others and By Good Fortune

They who from a private station become Princes by mere good fortune, do so with little trouble, but have much trouble to maintain themselves. They meet with no hindrance on their way, being carried as it were on wings to their destination, but all their difficulties overtake them when they alight. Of this class are those on whom States are conferred either in return for money, or through the favour of him who confers them; as it happened to many in the Greek cities of Ionia and the Hellespont to be made Princes by Darius, that they might hold these cities for his security and glory; and as happened in the case of those Emperors who, from privacy, attained the Imperial dignity by corrupting the army. Such Princes are wholly dependent on the favour and fortunes of those who have made them great, than which supports none could be less stable or secure; and they lack both the knowledge and the power that would enable them to maintain their position. They lack the knowledge, because unless they have great parts and force of character, it is not to be expected that having always lived in a private station they should have learned how to command. They lack the power, since they cannot look for support from attached and faithful troops. Moreover, States suddenly acquired, like all else that is produced and that grows up rapidly, can never have such root or hold as that the first storm which strikes them shall not overthrow them; unless, indeed, as I have said already, they who thus suddenly become Princes have a capacity for learning quickly how to defend what Fortune has placed in their lap, and can lay those foundations after they rise which by others are laid before.

Of each of these methods of becoming a Prince, namely, by merit and by good fortune, I shall select an instance from times within my own recollection, and shall take the cases of Francesco Sforza and Cesare Borgia. By suitable measures and singular ability, Francesco Sforza rose from privacy to be Duke of Milan, preserving with little trouble what it cost him infinite efforts to gain. On the other hand, Cesare Borgia, vulgarly spoken of as Duke Valentino, obtained his Princedom through the favourable fortunes of his father, and with these lost it, although, so far as in him lay, he used every effort and practised every expedient that a prudent and able man should, who desires to strike root in a State given him by the arms and fortune of another. For, as I have already said, he who does not lay his foundations at first, may, if he be of great parts, succeed in laying them afterwards, though with inconvenience to the builder and risk to the building. And if we consider the various measures taken by Duke Valentino, we shall perceive how broad were the foundations he had laid whereon to rest his future power.

These I think it not superfluous to examine, since I know not what lessons I could teach a new Prince, more useful than the example of his actions. And if the measures taken by him did not profit him in the end, it was through no fault of his, but from the extraordinary and extreme malignity of Fortune.

In his efforts to aggrandize the Duke his son, Alexander VI had to face many difficulties, both immediate and remote. In the first place, he saw no way to make him Lord of any State which was not a State of the Church, while, if he sought to take for him a State belonging to the Church, he knew that the Duke of Milan and the Venetians would withhold their consent; Faenza and Rimini being already under the protection of the latter. Further, he saw that the arms of Italy, and those more especially of which he might have availed himself, were in the hands of men who had reason to fear his aggrandizement, that is, of the Orsini, the Colonnesi, and their followers. These therefore he could not trust. It was consequently necessary that the existing order of things should be changed, and the States of Italy thrown into confusion, in order that he might safely make himself master of some part of them; and this became easy for him when he found that the Venetians, moved by other causes, were plotting to bring the French once more into Italy. This design he accordingly did not oppose, but furthered by annulling the first marriage of the French King.

King Louis therefore came into Italy at the instance of the Venetians, and with the consent of Pope Alexander, and no sooner was he in Milan than the Pope got troops from him to aid him in his enterprise against Romagna, which Province, moved by the reputation of the French arms, at once submitted. After thus obtaining possession of Romagna, and after quelling the Colonnesi, Duke Valentino was desirous to follow up and extend his conquests. Two causes, however, held him back, namely, the doubtful fidelity of his own forces, and the waywardness of France. For he feared that the Orsini, of whose arms he had made use, might fail him, and not merely prove a hindrance to further acquisitions, but take from him what he had gained, and that the King might serve him the same turn. How little he could count on the Orsini was made plain when, after the capture of Faenza, he turned his arms against Bologna, and saw how reluctantly they took part in that enterprise. The King’s mind he understood, when, after seizing on the Dukedom of Urbino, he was about to attack Tuscany; from which design Louis compelled him to desist. Whereupon the Duke resolved to depend no longer on the arms or fortune of others. His first step, therefore, was to weaken the factions of the Orsini and Colonnesi in Rome. Those of their following who were of good birth, he gained over by making them his own gentlemen, assigning them a liberal provision, and conferring upon them commands and appointments suited to their rank; so that in a few months their old partisan attachments died out, and the hopes of all rested on the Duke alone.

He then awaited an occasion to crush the chiefs of the Orsini, for those of the house of Colonna he had already scattered, and a good opportunity presenting itself, he turned it to the best account. For when the Orsini came at last to see that the greatness of the Duke and the Church involved their ruin, they assembled a council at Magione in the Perugian territory, whence resulted the revolt of Urbino, commotions in Romagna, and an infinity of dangers to the Duke, all of which he overcame with the help of France. His credit thus restored, the Duke trusting no longer either to the French or to any other foreign aid, that he might not have to confront them openly, resorted to stratagem, and was so well able to dissemble his designs, that the Orsini, through the mediation of Signor Paolo (whom he failed not to secure by every friendly attention, furnishing him with clothes, money, and horses), were so won over as to be drawn in their simplicity into his hands at Sinigaglia. When the leaders were thus disposed of, and their followers made his friends, the Duke had laid sufficiently good foundations for his future power, since he held all Romagna together with the Dukedom of Urbino, and had ingratiated himself with the entire population of these States, who now began to see that they were well off.

And since this part of his conduct merits both attention and imitation, I shall not pass it over in silence. After the Duke had taken Romagna, finding that it had been ruled by feeble Lords, who thought more of plundering than correcting their subjects, and gave them more cause for division than for union, so that the country was overrun with robbery, tumult, and every kind of outrage, he judged it necessary, with a view to render it peaceful and obedient to his authority, to provide it with a good government. Accordingly he set over it Messer Remiro d’Orco, a stern and prompt ruler, who being entrusted with the fullest powers, in a very short time, and with much credit to himself, restored it to tranquillity and order. But afterwards apprehending that such unlimited authority might become odious, the Duke decided that it was no longer needed, and established in the centre of the Province a civil Tribunal, with an excellent President, in which every town was represented by its advocate. And knowing that past severities had generated ill-feeling against himself, in order to purge the minds of the people and gain their good-will, he sought to show them that any cruelty which had been done had not originated, with him, but in the harsh disposition of his minister. Availing himself of the pretext which this afforded, he one morning caused Remiro to be beheaded, and exposed in the market place of Cesena with a block and bloody axe by his side. The barbarity of which spectacle at once astounded and satisfied the populace.

But, returning to the point whence we diverged, I say that the Duke, finding himself fairly strong and in a measure secured against present dangers, being furnished with arms of his own choosing and having to a great extent got rid of those which, if left near him, might have caused him trouble, had to consider, if he desired to follow up his conquests, how he was to deal with France, since he saw he could expect no further support from King Louis, whose eyes were at last opened to his mistake. He therefore began to look about for new alliances, and to waver in his adherence to the French, then occupied with their expedition into the kingdom of Naples against the Spaniards, at that time laying siege to Gaeta; his object being to secure himself against France; and in this he would soon have succeeded had Alexander lived.

Such was the line he took to meet present exigencies. As regards the future, he had to apprehend that a new Head of the Church might not be his friend, and might even seek to deprive him of what Alexander had given. This he thought to provide against in four ways. First, by exterminating all who were of kin to those Lords whom he had despoiled of their possessions, that they might not become instruments in the hands of a new Pope. Second, by gaining over all the Roman nobles, so as to be able with their help to put a bridle, as the saying is, in the Pope’s mouth. Third, by bringing the college of Cardinals, so far as he could, under his control. And fourth, by establishing his authority so firmly before his father’s death, as to be able by himself to withstand the shock of a first onset.

Of these measures, at the time when Alexander died, he had already effected three, and had almost carried out the forth. For of the Lords whose possessions he had usurped, he had put to death all whom he could reach, and very few had escaped. He had gained over the Roman nobility, and had the majority in the College of Cardinals on his side.

As to further acquisitions, his design was to make himself master of Tuscany. He was already in possession of Perugia and Piombino, and had assumed the protectorship of Pisa, on which city he was about to spring; taking no heed of France, as indeed he no longer had occasion, since the French had been deprived of the kingdom of Naples by the Spaniards under circumstances which made it necessary for both nations to buy his friendship. Pisa taken, Lucca and Siena would soon have yielded, partly through jealousy of Florence, partly through fear, and the position of the Florentines must then have been desperate.

Had he therefore succeeded in these designs, as he was succeeding in that very year in which Alexander died, he would have won such power and reputation that he might afterwards have stood alone, relying on his own strength and resources, without being beholden to the power and fortune of others. But Alexander died five years from the time he first unsheathed the sword, leaving his son with the State of Romagna alone consolidated, with all the rest unsettled, between two powerful hostile armies, and sick almost to death. And yet such were the fire and courage of the Duke, he knew so well how men must either be conciliated or crushed, and so solid were the foundations he had laid in that brief period, that had these armies not been upon his back, or had he been in sound health, he must have surmounted every difficulty.

How strong his foundations were may be seen from this, that Romagna waited for him for more than a month; and that although half dead, he remained in safety in Rome, where though the Baglioni, the Vitelli, and the Orsini came to attack him, they met with no success. Moreover, since he was able if not to make whom he liked Pope, at least to prevent the election of any whom he disliked, had he been in health at the time when Alexander died, all would have been easy for him. But he told me himself on the day on which Julius II was created, that he had foreseen and provided for everything else that could happen on his father’s death, but had never anticipated that when his father died he too should be at death’s-door.

Taking all these actions of the Duke together, I can find no fault with him; nay, it seems to me reasonable to put him forward, as I have done, as a pattern for all such as rise to power by good fortune and the help of others. For with his great spirit and high aims he could not act otherwise than he did, and nothing but the shortness of his father’s life and his own illness prevented the success of his designs. Whoever, therefore, on entering a new Princedom, judges it necessary to rid himself of enemies, to conciliate friends, to prevail by force or fraud, to make himself feared yet not hated by his subjects, respected and obeyed by his soldiers, to crush those who can or ought to injure him, to introduce changes in the old order of things, to be at once severe and affable, magnanimous and liberal, to do away with a mutinous army and create a new one, to maintain relations with Kings and Princes on such a footing that they must see it for their interest to aid him, and dangerous to offend, can find no brighter example than in the actions of this Prince.

The one thing for which he may be blamed was the creation of Pope Julius II, in respect of whom he chose badly. Because, as I have said already, though he could not secure the election he desired, he could have prevented any other; and he ought never to have consented to the creation of any one of those Cardinals whom he had injured, or who on becoming Pope would have reason to fear him; for fear is as dangerous an enemy as resentment. Those whom he had offended were, among others, San Pietro ad Vincula, Colonna, San Giorgio, and Ascanio; all the rest, excepting d’Amboise and the Spanish Cardinals (the latter from their connexion and obligations, the former from the power he derived through his relations with the French Court), would on assuming the Pontificate have had reason to fear him. The duke, therefore, ought, in the first place, to have laboured for the creation of a Spanish Pope; failing in which, he should have agreed to the election of d’Amboise, but never to that of San Pietro ad Vincula. And he deceives himself who believes that with the great, recent benefits cause old wrongs to be forgotten.

The Duke, therefore, erred in the part he took in this election; and his error was the cause of his ultimate downfall.

Chapter VIII: Of Those Who By Their Crimes Come to Be Princes

But since from privacy a man may also rise to be a Prince in one or other of two ways, neither of which can be referred wholly either to merit or to fortune, it is fit that I notice them here, though one of them may fall to be discussed more fully in treating of Republics.

The ways I speak of are, first, when the ascent to power is made by paths of wickedness and crime; and second, when a private person becomes ruler of his country by the favour of his fellow-citizens. The former method I shall make clear by two examples, one ancient, the other modern, without entering further into the merits of the matter, for these, I think, should be enough for any one who is driven to follow them.

Agathocles the Sicilian came, not merely from a private station, but from the very dregs of the people, to be King of Syracuse. Son of a potter, through all the stages of his fortunes he led a foul life. His vices, however, were conjoined with so great vigour both of mind and body, that becoming a soldier, he rose through the various grades of the service to be Praetor of Syracuse. Once established in that post, he resolved to make himself Prince, and to hold by violence and without obligation to others the authority which had been spontaneously entrusted to him. Accordingly, after imparting his design to Hamilcar, who with the Carthaginian armies was at that time waging war in Sicily, he one morning assembled the people and senate of Syracuse as though to consult with them on matters of public moment, and on a preconcerted signal caused his soldiers to put to death all the senators, and the wealthiest of the commons. These being thus got rid of, he assumed and retained possession of the sovereignty without opposition on the part of the people; and although twice defeated by the Carthaginians, and afterwards besieged, he was able not only to defend his city, but leaving a part of his forces for its protection, to invade Africa with the remainder, and so in a short time to raise the siege of Syracuse, reducing the Carthaginians to the utmost extremities, and compelling them to make terms whereby they abandoned Sicily to him and confined themselves to Africa.

Whoever examines this man’s actions and achievements will discover little or nothing in them which can be ascribed to Fortune, seeing, as has already been said, that it was not through the favour of any, but by the regular steps of the military service, gained at the cost of a thousand hardships and hazards, he reached the princedom which he afterwards maintained by so many daring and dangerous enterprises. Still, to slaughter fellow-citizens, to betray friends, to be devoid of honour, pity, and religion, cannot be counted as merits, for these are means which may lead to power, but which confer no glory. Wherefore, if in respect of the valour with which he encountered and extricated himself from difficulties, and the constancy of his spirit in supporting and conquering adverse fortune, there seems no reason to judge him inferior to the greatest captains that have ever lived, his unbridled cruelty and inhumanity, together with his countless crimes, forbid us to number him with the greatest men; but, at any rate, we cannot attribute to Fortune or to merit what he accomplished without either.

In our own times, during the papacy of Alexander VI, Oliverotto of Fermo,. who some years before had been left an orphan, and had been brought up by his maternal uncle Giovanni Fogliani, was sent while still a lad to serve under Paolo Vitelli, in the expectation that a thorough training under that commander might qualify him for high rank as a soldier. After the death of Paolo, he served under his brother Vitellozzo, and in a very short time, being of a quick wit, hardy and resolute, he became one of the first soldiers of his company. But thinking it beneath him to serve under others, with the countenance of the Vitelleschi and the connivance of certain citizens of Fermo who preferred the slavery to the freedom of their country, he formed the design to seize on that town.

He accordingly wrote to Giovanni Fogliani that after many years of absence from home, he desired to see him and his native city once more, and to look a little into the condition of his patrimony; and as his one endeavour had been to make himself a name, in order that his fellow-citizens might see his time had not been mis-spent, he proposed to return honourably attended by a hundred horsemen from among his own friends and followers; and he begged Giovanni graciously to arrange for his reception by the citizens of Fermo with corresponding marks of distinction, as this would be creditable not only to himself, but also to the uncle who had brought him up.

Giovanni accordingly, did not fail in any proper attention to his nephew, but caused him to be splendidly received by his fellow-citizens, and lodged him in his house; where Oliverotto having passed some days, and made the necessary arrangements for carrying out his wickedness, gave a formal banquet, to which he invited his uncle and all the first men of Fermo. When the repast and the other entertainments proper to such an occasion had come to an end, Oliverotto artfully turned the conversation to matters of grave interest, by speaking of the greatness of Pope Alexander and Cesare his son, and of their enterprises; and when Giovanni and the others were replying to what he said, he suddenly rose up, observing that these were matters to be discussed in a more private place, and so withdrew to another chamber; whither his uncle and all the other citizens followed him, and where they had no sooner seated themselves, than soldiers rushing out from places of concealment put Giovanni and all the rest to death.

After this butchery, Oliverotto mounted his horse, rode through the streets, and besieged the chief magistrate in the palace, so that all were constrained by fear to yield obedience and accept a government of which he made himself the head. And all who from being disaffected were likely to stand in his way, he put to death, while he strengthened himself with new ordinances, civil and military, to such purpose, that for the space of a year during which he retained the Princedom, he not merely kept a firm hold of the city, but grew formidable to all his neighbours. And it would have been as impossible to unseat him as it was to unseat Agathocles, had he not let himself be overreached by Cesare Borgia on the occasion when, as has already been told, the Orsini and Vitelli were entrapped at Sinigaglia; where he too being taken, one year after the commission of his parricidal crime, was strangled along with Vitellozzo, whom he had assumed for his master in villany as in valour.

It may be asked how Agathocles and some like him, after numberless acts of treachery and cruelty, have been able to live long in their own country in safety, and to defend themselves from foreign enemies, without being plotted against by their fellow-citizens, whereas, many others, by reason of their cruelty, have failed to maintain their position even in peaceful times, not to speak of the perilous times of war. I believe that this results from cruelty being well or ill-employed. Those cruelties we may say are well employed, if it be permitted to speak well of things evil, which are done once for all under the necessity of self-preservation, and are not afterwards persisted in, but so far as possible modified to the advantage of the governed. Ill-employed cruelties, on the other hand, are those which from small beginnings increase rather than diminish with time. They who follow the first of these methods, may, by the grace of God and man, find, as did Agathocles, that their condition is not desperate; but by no possibility can the others maintain themselves.

Hence we may learn the lesson that on seizing a state, the usurper should make haste to inflict what injuries he must, at a stroke, that he may not have to renew them daily, but be enabled by their discontinuance to reassure men’s minds, and afterwards win them over by benefits. Whosoever, either through timidity or from following bad counsels, adopts a contrary course, must keep the sword always drawn, and can put no trust in his subjects, who suffering from continued and constantly renewed severities, will never yield him their confidence. Injuries, therefore, should be inflicted all at once, that their ill savour being less lasting may the less offend; whereas, benefits should be conferred little by little, that so they may be more fully relished.

But, before all things, a Prince should so live with his subjects that no vicissitude of good or evil fortune shall oblige him to alter his behaviour; because, if a need to change come through adversity, it is then too late to resort to severity; while any leniency you may use will be thrown away, for it will be seen to be compulsory and gain you no thanks.

Chapter IX: Of the Civil Princedom

I come now to the second case, namely, of the leading citizen who, not by crimes or violence, but by the favour of his fellow-citizens is made Prince of his country. This may be called a Civil Princedom, and its attainment depends not wholly on merit, nor wholly on good fortune, but rather on what may be termed a fortunate astuteness. I say then that the road to this Princedom lies either through the favour of the people or of the nobles. For in every city are to be found these two opposed humours having their origin in this, that the people desire not to be domineered over or oppressed by the nobles, while the nobles desire to oppress and domineer over the people. And from these two contrary appetites there arises in cities one of three results, a Princedom, or Liberty, or Licence. A Princedom is created either by the people or by the nobles, according as one or other of these factions has occasion for it. For when the nobles perceive that they cannot withstand the people, they set to work to magnify the reputation of one of their number, and make him their Prince, to the end that under his shadow they may be enabled to indulge their desires. The people, on the other hand, when they see that they cannot make head against the nobles, invest a single citizen with all their influence and make him Prince, that they may have the shelter of his authority.

He who is made Prince by the favour of the nobles, has greater difficulty to maintain himself than he who comes to the Princedom by aid of the people, since he finds many about him who think themselves as good as he, and whom, on that account, he cannot guide or govern as he would. But he who reaches the Princedom by the popular support, finds himself alone, with none, or but a very few about him who are not ready to obey. Moreover, the demands of the nobles cannot be satisfied with credit to the Prince, nor without injury to others, while those of the people well may, the aim of the people being more honourable than that of the nobles, the latter seeking to oppress, the former not to be oppressed. Add to this, that a Prince can never secure himself against a disaffected people, their number being too great, while he may against a disaffected nobility, since their number is small. The worst that a Prince need fear from a disaffected people is, that they may desert him, whereas when the nobles are his enemies he has to fear not only that they may desert him, but also that they may turn against him; because, as they have greater craft and foresight, they always choose their time to suit their safety, and seek favour with the side they think will win. Again, a Prince must always live with the same people, but need not always live with the same nobles, being able to make and unmake these from day to day, and give and take away their authority at his pleasure.

But to make this part of the matter clearer, I say that as regards the nobles there is this first distinction to be made. They either so govern their conduct as to bind themselves wholly to your fortunes, or they do not. Those who so bind themselves, and who are not grasping, should be loved and honoured. As to those who do not so bind themselves, there is this further distinction. For the most part they are held back by pusillanimity and a natural defect of courage, in which case you should make use of them, and of those among them more especially who are prudent, for they will do you honour in prosperity, and in adversity give you no cause for fear. But where they abstain from attaching themselves to you of set purpose and for ambitious ends, it is a sign that they are thinking more of themselves than of you, and against such men a Prince should be on his guard, and treat them as though they were declared enemies, for in his adversity they will always help to ruin him.

He who becomes a Prince through the favour of the people should always keep on good terms with them; which it is easy for him to do, since all they ask is not to be oppressed. But he who against the will of the people is made a Prince by the favour of the nobles, must, above all things, seek to conciliate the people, which he readily may by taking them under his protection. For since men who are well treated by one whom they expected to treat them ill, feel the more beholden to their benefactor, the people will at once become better disposed to such a Prince when he protects them, than if he owed his Princedom to them.

There are many ways in which a Prince may gain the good-will of the people, but, because these vary with circumstances, no certain rule can be laid down respecting them, and I shall, therefore, say no more about them. But this is the sum of the matter, that it is essential for a Prince to be on a friendly footing with his people, since otherwise, he will have no resource in adversity. Nabis, Prince of Sparta, was attacked by the whole hosts of Greece, and by a Roman army flushed with victory, and defended his country and crown against them; and when danger approached, there were but few of his subjects against whom he needed to guard himself, whereas had the people been hostile, this would not have been enough.

And what I affirm let no one controvert by citing the old saw that ‘he who builds on the people builds on mire,’ for that may be true of a private citizen who presumes on his favour with the people, and counts on being rescued by them when overpowered by his enemies or by the magistrates. In such cases a man may often find himself deceived, as happened to the Gracchi in Rome, and in Florence to Messer Giorgio Scali. But when he who builds on the people is a Prince capable of command, of a spirit not to be cast down by ill-fortune, who, while he animates the whole community by his courage and bearing, neglects no prudent precaution, he will not find himself betrayed by the people, but will be seen to have laid his foundations well.

The most critical juncture for Princedoms of this kind, is at the moment when they are about to pass from the popular to the absolute form of government: and as these Princes exercise their authority either directly or through the agency of the magistrates, in the latter case their position is weaker and more hazardous, since they are wholly in the power of those citizens to whom the magistracies are entrusted, who can, and especially in difficult times, with the greatest ease deprive them of their authority, either by opposing, or by not obeying them. And in times of peril it is too late for a Prince to assume to himself an absolute authority, for the citizens and subjects who are accustomed to take their orders from the magistrates, will not when dangers threaten take them from the Prince, so that at such seasons there will always be very few in whom he can trust. Such Princes, therefore, must not build on what they see in tranquil times when the citizens feel the need of the State. For then every one is ready to run, to promise, and, danger of death being remote, even to die for the State. But in troubled times, when the State has need of its citizens, few of them are to be found. And the risk of the experiment is the greater in that it can only be made once. Wherefore, a wise Prince should devise means whereby his subjects may at all times, whether favourable or adverse, feel the need of the State and of him, and then they will always be faithful to him.

Chapter X: How the Strength of All Princedoms Should Be Measured

In examining the character of these Princedoms, another circumstance has to be considered, namely, whether the Prince is strong enough, if occasion demands, to stand alone, or whether he needs continual help from others. To make the matter clearer, I pronounce those to be able to stand alone who, with the men and money at their disposal, can get together an army fit to take the field against any assailant; and, conversely, I judge those to be in constant need of help who cannot take the field against their enemies, but are obliged to retire behind their walls, and to defend themselves there. Of the former I have already spoken, and shall speak again as occasion may require. As to the latter there is nothing to be said, except to exhort such Princes to strengthen and fortify the towns in which they dwell, and take no heed of the country outside. For whoever has thoroughly fortified his town, and put himself on such a footing with his subjects as I have already indicated and shall hereafter speak of, will always be attacked with much circumspection; for men are always averse to enterprises that are attended with difficulty, and it is impossible not to foresee difficulties in attacking a Prince whose town is strongly fortified and who is not hated by his subjects.

The towns of Germany enjoy great freedom. Having little territory, they render obedience to the Emperor only when so disposed, fearing neither him nor any other neighbouring power. For they are so fortified that it is plain to every one that it would be a tedious and difficult task to reduce them, since all of them are protected by moats and suitable ramparts, are well supplied with artillery, and keep their public magazines constantly stored with victual, drink and fuel, enough to last them for a year. Besides which, in order to support the poorer class of citizens without public loss, they lay in a common stock of materials for these to work on for a year, in the handicrafts which are the life and sinews of such cities, and by which the common people live. Moreover, they esteem military exercises and have many regulations for their maintenance.

A Prince, therefore, who has a strong city, and who does not make himself hated, can not be attacked, or should he be so, his assailant will come badly off; since human affairs are so variable that it is almost impossible for any one to keep an army posted in leaguer for a whole year without interruption of some sort. Should it be objected that if the citizens have possessions outside the town, and see them burned, they will lose patience, and that self-interest, together with the hardships of a protracted siege, will cause them to forget their loyalty; I answer that a capable and courageous Prince will always overcome these difficulties, now, by holding out hopes to his subjects that the evil will not be of long continuance; now, by exciting their fears of the enemy’s cruelty; and, again, by dexterously silencing those who seem to him too forward in their complaints. Moreover, it is to be expected that the enemy will burn and lay waste the country immediately on their arrival, at a time when men’s minds are still heated and resolute for defence. And for this very reason the Prince ought the less to fear, because after a few days, when the first ardour has abated, the injury is already done and suffered, and cannot be undone; and the people will now, all the more readily, make common cause with their Prince from his seeming to be under obligations to them, their houses having been burned and their lands wasted in his defence. For it is the nature of men to incur obligation as much by the benefits they render as by those they receive.

Wherefore, if the whole matter be well considered, it ought not to be difficult for a prudent Prince, both at the outset and afterwards, to maintain the spirits of his subjects during a siege; provided always that victuals and other means of defence do not run short.

Chapter XI: Of Ecclesiastical Princedoms

It now only remains for me to treat of Ecclesiastical Princedoms, all the difficulties in respect of which precede their acquisition. For they are acquired by merit or good fortune, but are maintained without either; being upheld by the venerable ordinances of Religion, which are all of such a nature and efficacy that they secure the authority of their Princes in whatever way they may act or live. These Princes alone have territories which they do not defend, and subjects whom they do not govern; yet their territories are not taken from them through not being defended, nor are their subjects concerned at not being governed, or led to think of throwing off their allegiance; nor is it in their power to do so. Accordingly these Princedoms alone are secure and happy. But inasmuch as they are sustained by agencies of a higher nature than the mind of man can reach, I forbear to speak of them: for since they are set up and supported by God himself, he would be a rash and presumptuous man who should venture to discuss them.

Nevertheless, should any one ask me how it comes about that the temporal power of the Church, which before the time of Alexander was looked on with contempt by all the Potentates of Italy, and not only by those so styling themselves, but by every Baron and Lordling however insignificant, has now reached such a pitch of greatness that the King of France trembles before it, and that it has been able to drive him out of Italy and to crush the Venetians; though the causes be known, it seems to me not superfluous to call them in some measure to recollection.

Before Charles of France passed into Italy, that country was under the control of the Pope, the Venetians, the King of Naples, the Duke of Milan, and the Florentines. Two chief objects had to be kept in view by all these powers: first, that no armed foreigner should be allowed to invade Italy; second, that no one of their own number should be suffered to extend his territory. Those whom it was especially needed to guard against, were the Pope and the Venetians. To hold back the Venetians it was necessary that all the other States should combine, as was done for the defence of Ferrara; while to restrain the Pope, use was made of the Roman Barons, who being divided into two factions, the Orsini and Colonnesi, had constant cause for feud with one another, and standing with arms in their hands under the very eyes of the Pontiff, kept the Popedom feeble and insecure.

And although there arose from time to time a courageous Pope like Sixtus, neither his prudence nor his good fortune could free him from these embarrassments. The cause whereof was the shortness of the lives of the Popes. For in the ten years, which was the average duration of a Pope’s life, he could barely succeed in humbling one of these factions; so that if, for instance, one Pope had almost exterminated the Colonnesi, he was followed by another, who being the enemy of the Orsini had no time to rid himself of them, but so far from completing the destruction of the Colonnesi, restored them to life. This led to the temporal authority of the Popes being little esteemed in Italy.

Then came Alexander VI, who more than any of his predecessors showed what a Pope could effect with money and arms, achieving by the instrumentality of Duke Valentino, and by taking advantage of the coming of the French into Italy, all those successes which I have already noticed in speaking of the actions of the Duke. And although his object was to aggrandize, not the Church but the Duke, what he did turned to the advantage of the Church, which after his death, and after the Duke had been put out of the way, became the heir of his labours.

After him came Pope Julius, who found the Church strengthened by the possession of the whole of Romagna, and the Roman Barons exhausted and their factions shattered under the blows of Pope Alexander. He found also a way opened for the accumulation of wealth, which before the time of Alexander no one had followed. These advantages Julius not only used but added to. He undertook the conquest of Bologna, the overthrow of the Venetians, and the expulsion of the French from Italy; in all which enterprises he succeeded, and with the greater glory to himself in that whatever he did, was done to strengthen the Church and not to aggrandize any private person. He succeeded, moreover, in keeping the factions of the Orsini and Colonnesi within the same limits as he found them; and, though some seeds of insubordination may still have been left among them, two causes operated to hold them in check; first, the great power of the Church, which overawed them, and second, their being without Cardinals, who had been the cause of all their disorders. For these factions while they have Cardinals among them can never be at rest, since it is they who foment dissension both in Rome and out of it, in which the Barons are forced to take part, the ambition of the Prelates thus giving rise to tumult and discord among the Barons.

His Holiness, Pope Leo, has consequently found the Papacy most powerful; and from him we may hope, that as his predecessors made it great with arms, he will render it still greater and more venerable by his benignity and other countless virtues.

Chapter XII: How Many Different Kinds of Soldiers There Are, and of Mercenaries

Having spoken particularly of all the various kinds of Princedom whereof at the outset I proposed to treat, considered in some measure what are the causes of their strength and weakness, and pointed out the methods by which men commonly seek to acquire them, it now remains that I should discourse generally concerning the means for attack and defence of which each of these different kinds of Princedom may make use.

I have already said that a Prince must lay solid foundations, since otherwise he will inevitably be destroyed. Now the main foundations of all States, whether new, old, or mixed, are good laws and good arms. But since you cannot have the former without the latter, and where you have the latter, are likely to have the former, I shall here omit all discussion on the subject of laws, and speak only of arms.

I say then that the arms wherewith a Prince defends his State are either his own subjects, or they are mercenaries, or they are auxiliaries, or they are partly one and partly another. Mercenaries and auxiliaries are at once useless and dangerous, and he who holds his State by means of mercenary troops can never be solidly or securely seated. For such troops are disunited, ambitious, insubordinate, treacherous, insolent among friends, cowardly before foes, and without fear of God or faith with man. Whenever they are attacked defeat follows; so that in peace you are plundered by them, in war by your enemies. And this because they have no tie or motive to keep them in the field beyond their paltry pay, in return for which it would be too much to expect them to give their lives. They are ready enough, therefore, to be your soldiers while you are at peace, but when war is declared they make off and disappear. I ought to have little difficulty in getting this believed, for the present ruin of Italy is due to no other cause than her having for many years trusted to mercenaries, who though heretofore they may have helped the fortunes of some one man, and made a show of strength when matched with one another, have always revealed themselves in their true colours so soon as foreign enemies appeared. Hence it was that Charles of France was suffered to conquer Italy with chalk; and he who said our sins were the cause, said truly, though it was not the sins he meant, but those which I have noticed. And as these were the sins of Princes, they it is who have paid the penalty.

But I desire to demonstrate still more clearly the untoward character of these forces. Captains of mercenaries are either able men or they are not. If they are, you cannot trust them, since they will always seek their own aggrandizement, either by overthrowing you who are their master, or by the overthrow of others contrary to your desire. On the other hand, if your captain be not an able man the chances are you will be ruined. And if it be said that whoever has arms in his hands will act in the same way whether he be a mercenary or no, I answer that when arms have to be employed by a Prince or a Republic, the Prince ought to go in person to take command as captain, the Republic should send one of her citizens, and if he prove incapable should change him, but if he prove capable should by the force of the laws confine him within proper bounds. And we see from experience that both Princes and Republics when they depend on their own arms have the greatest success, whereas from employing mercenaries nothing but loss results. Moreover, a Republic trusting to her own forces, is with greater difficulty than one which relies on foreign arms brought to yield obedience to a single citizen. Rome and Sparta remained for ages armed and free. The Swiss are at once the best armed and the freest people in the world.

Of mercenary arms in ancient times we have an example in the Carthaginians, who at the close of their first war with Rome, were well-nigh ruined by their hired troops, although these were commanded by Carthaginian citizens. So too, when, on the death of Epaminondas, the Thebans made Philip of Macedon captain of their army, after gaining a victory for them, he deprived them of their liberty. The Milanese, in like manner, when Duke Filippo died, took Francesco Sforza into their pay to conduct the war against the Venetians. But he, after defeating the enemy at Caravaggio, combined with them to overthrow the Milanese, his masters. His father too while in the pay of Giovanna, Queen of Naples, suddenly left her without troops, obliging her, in order to save her kingdom, to throw herself into the arms of the King of Aragon.

And if it be said that in times past the Venetians and the Florentines have extended their dominions by means of these arms, and that their captains have served them faithfully, without seeking to make themselves their masters, I answer that in this respect the Florentines have been fortunate, because among those valiant captains who might have given them cause for fear, some have not been victorious, some have had rivals, and some have turned their ambition in other directions.

Among those not victorious, was Giovanni Acuto, whose fidelity, since he was unsuccessful, was not put to the proof: but any one may see, that had he been victorious the Florentines must have been entirely in his hands. The Sforzas, again, had constant rivals in the Bracceschi, so that the one following was a check upon the other; moreover, the ambition of Francesco was directed against Milan, while that of Braccio was directed against the Church and the kingdom of Naples. Let us turn, however, to what took place lately. The Florentines chose for their captain Paolo Vitelli, a most prudent commander, who had raised himself from privacy to the highest renown in arms. Had he been successful in reducing Pisa, none can deny that the Florentines would have been completely in his power, for they would have been ruined had he gone over to their enemies, while if they retained him they must have submitted to his will.

Again, as to the Venetians, if we consider the growth of their power, it will be seen that they conducted their affairs with glory and safety so long as their subjects of all ranks, gentle and simple alike, valiantly bore arms in their wars; as they did before they directed their enterprises landwards. But when they took to making war by land, they forsook those methods in which they excelled and were content to follow the customs of Italy.

At first, indeed, in extending their possessions on the mainland, having as yet but little territory and being held in high repute, they had not much to fear from their captains; but when their territories increased, which they did under Carmagnola, they were taught their mistake. For as they had found him a most valiant and skillful leader when, under his command, they defeated the Duke of Milan, and, on the other hand, saw him slack in carrying on the war, they made up their minds that no further victories were to be had under him; and because, through fear of losing what they had gained, they could not discharge him, to secure themselves against him they were forced to put him to death. After him they have had for captains, Bartolommeo of Bergamo, Roberto of San Severino, the Count of Pitigliano, and the like, under whom their danger has not been from victories, but from defeats; as, for instance, at Vaila, where they lost in a single day what it had taken the efforts of eight hundred years to acquire. For the gains resulting from mercenary arms are slow, and late, and inconsiderable, but the losses sudden and astounding.

And since these examples have led me back to Italy, which for many years past has been defended by mercenary arms, I desire to go somewhat deeper into the matter, in order that the causes which led to the adoption of these arms being seen, they may the more readily be corrected. You are to understand, then, that when in these later times the Imperial control began to be rejected by Italy, and the temporal power of the Pope to be more thought of, Italy suddenly split up into a number of separate States. For many of the larger cities took up arms against their nobles, who, with the favour of the Emperor, had before kept them in subjection, and were supported by the Church with a view to add to her temporal authority: while in many others of these cities, private citizens became rulers. Hence Italy, having passed almost entirely into the hands of the Church and of certain Republics, the former made up of priests, the latter of citizens unfamiliar with arms, began to take foreigners into her pay.

The first who gave reputation to this service was Alberigo of Conio in Romagna, from whose school of warlike training descended, among others, Braccio and Sforza, who in their time were the arbiters of Italy; after whom came all those others who down to the present hour have held similar commands, and to whose merits we owe it that our country has been overrun by Charles, plundered by Louis, wasted by Ferdinand, and insulted by the Swiss.

The first object of these mercenaries was to bring foot soldiers into disrepute, in order to enhance the merit of their own followers; and this they did, because lacking territory of their own and depending on their profession for their support, a few foot soldiers gave them no importance, while for a large number they were unable to provide. For these reasons they had recourse to horsemen, a less retinue of whom was thought to confer distinction, and could be more easily maintained. And the matter went to such a length, that in an army of twenty thousand men, not two thousand foot soldiers were to be found. Moreover, they spared no endeavour to relieve themselves and their men from fatigue and danger, not killing one another in battle, but making prisoners who were afterwards released without ransom. They would attack no town by night; those in towns would make no sortie by night against a besieging army. Their camps were without rampart or trench. They had no winter campaigns. All which arrangements were sanctioned by their military rules, contrived by them, as I have said already, to escape fatigue and danger; but the result of which has been to bring Italy into servitude and contempt.

Chapter XIII: Of Auxiliary, Mixed, and National Arms

The second sort of unprofitable arms are auxiliaries, by whom I mean, troops brought to help and protect you by a potentate whom you summon to your aid; as when in recent times, Pope Julius II observing the pitiful behaviour of his mercenaries at the enterprise of Ferrara, betook himself to auxiliaries, and arranged with Ferdinand of Spain to be supplied with horse and foot soldiers.

Auxiliaries may be excellent and useful soldiers for themselves, but are always hurtful to him who calls them in; for if they are defeated, he is undone, if victorious, he becomes their prisoner. Ancient histories abound with instances of this, but I shall not pass from the example of Pope Julius, which is still fresh in men’s minds. It was the height of rashness for him, in his eagerness to gain Ferrara, to throw himself without reserve into the arms of a stranger. Nevertheless, his good fortune came to his rescue, and he had not to reap the fruits of his ill-considered conduct. For after his auxiliaries were defeated at Ravenna, the Swiss suddenly descended and, to their own surprise and that of every one else, swept the victors out of the country, so that, he neither remained a prisoner with his enemies, they being put to flight, nor with his auxiliaries, because victory was won by other arms than theirs. The Florentines, being wholly without soldiers of their own, brought ten thousand French men-at-arms to the siege of Pisa, thereby incurring greater peril than at any previous time of trouble. To protect himself from his neighbours, the Emperor of Constantinople summoned ten thousand Turkish soldiers into Greece, who, when the war was over, refused to leave, and this was the beginning of the servitude of Greece to the Infidel.

Let him, therefore, who would deprive himself of every chance of success, have recourse to auxiliaries, these being far more dangerous than mercenary arms, bringing ruin with them ready made. For they are united, and wholly under the control of their own officers; whereas, before mercenaries, even after gaining a victory, can do you hurt, longer time and better opportunities are needed; because, as they are made up of separate companies, raised and paid by you, he whom you place in command cannot at once acquire such authority over them as will be injurious to you. In short, with mercenaries your greatest danger is from their inertness and cowardice, with auxiliaries from their valour. Wise Princes, therefore, have always eschewed these arms, and trusted rather to their own, and have preferred defeat with the latter to victory with the former, counting that as no true victory which is gained by foreign aid.

I shall never hesitate to cite the example of Cesare Borgia and his actions. He entered Romagna with a force of auxiliaries, all of them French men-at-arms, with whom he took Imola and Forli. But it appearing to him afterwards that these troops were not to be trusted, he had recourse to mercenaries from whom he thought there would be less danger, and took the Orsini and Vitelli into his pay. But finding these likewise while under his command to be fickle, false, and treacherous, he got rid of them, and fell back on troops of his own raising. And we may readily discern the difference between these various kinds of arms, by observing the different degrees of reputation in which the Duke stood while he depended upon the French alone, when he took the Orsini and Vitelli into his pay, and when he fell back on his own troops and his own resources; for we find his reputation always increasing, and that he was never so well thought of as when every one perceived him to be sole master of his own forces.

I am unwilling to leave these examples, drawn from what has taken place in Italy and in recent times; and yet I must not omit to notice the case of Hiero of Syracuse, who is one of those whom I have already named. He, as I have before related, being made captain of their armies by the Syracusans, saw at once that a force of mercenary soldiers, supplied by men resembling our Italian condottieri, was not serviceable; and as he would not retain and could not disband them, he caused them all to be cut to pieces, and afterwards made war with native soldiers only, without other aid.

And here I would call to mind a passage in the Old Testament as bearing on this point. When David offered himself to Saul to go forth and fight Goliath the Philistine champion, Saul to encourage him armed him with his own armour, which David, so soon as he had put it on, rejected, saying that with these untried arms he could not prevail, and that he chose rather to meet his enemy with only his sling and his sword. In a word, the armour of others is too wide, or too strait for us; it falls off us, or it weighs us down.

Charles VII, the father of Louis XI, who by his good fortune and valour freed France from the English, saw this necessity of strengthening himself with a national army, and drew up ordinances regulating the service both of men-at-arms and of foot soldiers throughout his kingdom. But afterwards his son, King Louis, did away with the national infantry, and began to hire Swiss mercenaries. Which blunder having been followed by subsequent Princes, has been the cause, as the result shows, of the dangers into which the kingdom of France has fallen; for, by enhancing the reputation of the Swiss, the whole of the national troops of France have been deteriorated. For from their infantry being done away with, their men-at-arms are made wholly dependent on foreign assistance, and being accustomed to co-operate with the Swiss, have grown to think they can do nothing without them. Hence the French are no match for the Swiss, and without them cannot succeed against others.

The armies of France, then, are mixed, being partly national and partly mercenary. Armies thus composed are far superior to mere mercenaries or mere auxiliaries, but far inferior to forces purely national. And this example is in itself conclusive, for the realm of France would be invincible if the military ordinances of Charles VII had been retained and extended. But from want of foresight men make changes which relishing well at first do not betray their hidden venom, as I have already observed respecting hectic fever. Nevertheless, the ruler is not truly wise who cannot discern evils before they develop themselves, and this is a faculty given to few.

If we look for the causes which first led to the overthrow of the Roman Empire, they will be found to have had their source in the employment of Gothic mercenaries, for from that hour the strength of the Romans began to wane and all the virtue which went from them passed to the Goths. And, to be brief, I say that without national arms no Princedom is safe, but on the contrary is wholly dependent on Fortune, being without the strength that could defend it in adversity. And it has always been the deliberate opinion of the wise, that nothing is so infirm and fleeting as a reputation for power not founded upon a national army, by which I mean one composed of subjects, citizens, and dependents, all others being mercenary or auxiliary.

The methods to be followed for organizing a national army may readily be ascertained, if the rules above laid down by me, and by which I abide, be well considered, and attention be given to the manner in which Philip, father of Alexander the Great, and many other Princes and Republics have armed and disposed their forces.

Chapter XIV: Of the Duty of a Prince In Respect of Military Affairs

A Prince, therefore, should have no care or thought but for war, and for the regulations and training it requires, and should apply himself exclusively to this as his peculiar province; for war is the sole art looked for in one who rules, and is of such efficacy that it not merely maintains those who are born Princes, but often enables men to rise to that eminence from a private station; while, on the other hand, we often see that when Princes devote themselves rather to pleasure than to arms, they lose their dominions. And as neglect of this art is the prime cause of such calamities, so to be a proficient in it is the surest way to acquire power. Francesco Sforza, from his renown in arms, rose from privacy to be Duke of Milan, while his descendants, seeking to avoid the hardships and fatigues of military life, from being Princes fell back into privacy. For among other causes of misfortune which your not being armed brings upon you, it makes you despised, and this is one of those reproaches against which, as shall presently be explained, a Prince ought most carefully to guard.

Between an armed and an unarmed man no proportion holds, and it is contrary to reason to expect that the armed man should voluntarily submit to him who is unarmed, or that the unarmed man should stand secure among armed retainers. For with contempt on one side, and distrust on the other, it is impossible that men should work well together. Wherefore, as has already been said, a Prince who is ignorant of military affairs, besides other disadvantages, can neither be respected by his soldiers, nor can he trust them. A Prince, therefore, ought never to allow his attention to be diverted from warlike pursuits, and should occupy himself with them even more in peace than in war. This he can do in two ways, by practice or by study.

As to the practice, he ought, besides keeping his soldiers well trained and disciplined, to be constantly engaged in the chase, that he may inure his body to hardships and fatigue, and gain at the same time a knowledge of places, by observing how the mountains slope, the valleys open, and the plains spread; acquainting himself with the characters of rivers and marshes, and giving the greatest attention to this subject. Such knowledge is useful to him in two ways; for first, he learns thereby to know his own country, and to understand better how it may be defended; and next, from his familiar acquaintance with its localities, he readily comprehends the character of other districts when obliged to observe them for the first time. For the hills, valleys, plains, rivers, and marshes of Tuscany, for example, have a certain resemblance to those elsewhere; so that from a knowledge of the natural features of that province, similar knowledge in respect of other provinces may readily be gained. The Prince who is wanting in this kind of knowledge, is wanting in the first qualification of a good captain for by it he is taught how to surprise an enemy, how to choose an encampment, how to lead his army on a march, how to array it for battle, and how to post it to the best advantage for a siege.

Among the commendations which Philopoemon, Prince of the Achaians, has received from historians is this — that in times of peace he was always thinking of methods of warfare, so that when walking in the country with his friends he would often stop and talk with them on the subject. ‘If the enemy,’ he would say, ‘were posted on that hill, and we found ourselves here with our army, which of us would have the better position? How could we most safely and in the best order advance to meet them? If we had to retreat, what direction should we take? If they retired, how should we pursue?’ In this way he put to his friends, as he went along, all the contingencies that can befall an army. He listened to their opinions, stated his own, and supported them with reasons; and from his being constantly occupied with such meditations, it resulted, that when in actual command no complication could ever present itself with which he was not prepared to deal.

As to the mental training of which we have spoken, a Prince should read histories, and in these should note the actions of great men, observe how they conducted themselves in their wars, and examine the causes of their victories and defeats, so as to avoid the latter and imitate them in the former. And above all, he should, as many great men of past ages have done, assume for his models those persons who before his time have been renowned and celebrated, whose deeds and achievements he should constantly keep in mind, as it is related that Alexander the Great sought to resemble Achilles, Cæsar Alexander, and Scipio Cyrus. And any one who reads the life of this last-named hero, written by Xenophon, recognizes afterwards in the life of Scipio, how much this imitation was the source of his glory, and how nearly in his chastity, affability, kindliness, and generosity, he conformed to the character of Cyrus as Xenophon describes it.

A wise Prince, therefore, should pursue such methods as these, never resting idle in times of peace, but strenuously seeking to turn them to account, so that he may derive strength from them in the hour of danger, and find himself ready should Fortune turn against him, to resist her blows.

Chapter XV: Of the Qualities In Respect of Which Men, and Most of all Princes, Are Praised or Blamed

It now remains for us to consider what ought to be the conduct and bearing of a Prince in relation to his subjects and friends. And since I know that many have written on this subject, I fear it may be thought presumptuous in me to write of it also; the more so, because in my treatment of it, I depart from the views that others have taken.

But since it is my object to write what shall be useful to whosoever understands it, it seems to me better to follow the real truth of things than an imaginary view of them. For many Republics and Princedoms have been imagined that were never seen or known to exist in reality. And the manner in which we live, and that in which we ought to live, are things so wide asunder, that he who quits the one to betake himself to the other is more likely to destroy than to save himself; since any one who would act up to a perfect standard of goodness in everything, must be ruined among so many who are not good. It is essential, therefore, for a Prince who desires to maintain his position, to have learned how to be other than good, and to use or not to use his goodness as necessity requires.

Laying aside, therefore, all fanciful notions concerning a Prince, and considering those only that are true, I say that all men when they are spoken of, and Princes more than others from their being set so high, are characterized by some one of those qualities which attach either praise or blame. Thus one is accounted liberal, another miserly (which word I use, rather than avaricious, to denote the man who is too sparing of what is his own, avarice being the disposition to take wrongfully what is another’s); one is generous, another greedy; one cruel, another tender-hearted; one is faithless, another true to his word; one effeminate and cowardly, another high-spirited and courageous; one is courteous, another haughty; one impure, another chaste; one simple, another crafty; one firm, another facile; one grave, another frivolous; one devout, another unbelieving; and the like. Every one, I know, will admit that it would be most laudable for a Prince to be endowed with all of the above qualities that are reckoned good; but since it is impossible for him to possess or constantly practise them all, the conditions of human nature not allowing it, he must be discreet enough to know how to avoid the infamy of those vices that would deprive him of his government, and, if possible, be on his guard also against those which might not deprive him of it; though if he cannot wholly restrain himself, he may with less scruple indulge in the latter. He need never hesitate, however, to incur the reproach of those vices without which his authority can hardly be preserved; for if he well consider the whole matter, he will find that there may be a line of conduct having the appearance of virtue, to follow which would be his ruin, and that there may be another course having the appearance of vice, by following which his safety and well-being are secured.

Chapter XVI: Of Liberality and Miserliness

Beginning, then, with the first of the qualities above noticed, I say that it may be a good thing to be reputed liberal, but, nevertheless, that liberality without the reputation of it is hurtful; because, though it be worthily and rightly used, still if it be not known, you escape not the reproach of its opposite vice. Hence, to have credit for liberality with the world at large, you must neglect no circumstance of sumptuous display; the result being, that a Prince of a liberal disposition will consume his whole substance in things of this sort, and, after all, be obliged, if he would maintain his reputation for liberality, to burden his subjects with extraordinary taxes, and to resort to confiscations and all the other shifts whereby money is raised. But in this way he becomes hateful to his subjects, and growing impoverished is held in little esteem by any. So that in the end, having by his liberality offended many and obliged few, he is worse off than when he began, and is exposed to all his original dangers. Recognizing this, and endeavouring to retrace his steps, he at once incurs the infamy of miserliness.

A Prince, therefore, since he cannot without injury to himself practise the virtue of liberality so that it may be known, will not, if he be wise, greatly concern himself though he be called miserly. Because in time he will come to be regarded as more and more liberal, when it is seen that through his parsimony his revenues are sufficient; that he is able to defend himself against any who make war on him; that he can engage in enterprises against others without burdening his subjects; and thus exercise liberality towards all from whom he does not take, whose number is infinite, while he is miserly in respect of those only to whom he does not give, whose number is few.

In our own days we have seen no Princes accomplish great results save those who have been accounted miserly. All others have been ruined. Pope Julius II, after availing himself of his reputation for liberality to arrive at the Papacy, made no effort to preserve that reputation when making war on the King of France, but carried on all his numerous campaigns without levying from his subjects a single extraordinary tax, providing for the increased expenditure out of his long-continued savings. Had the present King of Spain been accounted liberal, he never could have engaged or succeeded in so many enterprises.

A Prince, therefore, if he is enabled thereby to forbear from plundering his subjects, to defend himself, to escape poverty and contempt, and the necessity of becoming rapacious, ought to care little though he incur the reproach of miserliness, for this is one of those vices which enable him to reign.

And should any object that Cæsar by his liberality rose to power, and that many others have been advanced to the highest dignities from their having been liberal and so reputed, I reply, ‘Either you are already a Prince or you seek to become one; in the former case liberality is hurtful, in the latter it is very necessary that you be thought liberal; Cæsar was one of those who sought the sovereignty of Rome; but if after obtaining it he had lived on without retrenching his expenditure, he must have ruined the Empire.’ And if it be further urged that many Princes reputed to have been most liberal have achieved great things with their armies, I answer that a Prince spends either what belongs to himself and his subjects, or what belongs to others; and that in the former case he ought to be sparing, but in the latter ought not to refrain from any kind of liberality. Because for a Prince who leads his armies in person and maintains them by plunder, pillage, and forced contributions, dealing as he does with the property of others this liberality is necessary, since otherwise he would not be followed by his soldiers. Of what does not belong to you or to your subjects you should, therefore, be a lavish giver, as were Cyrus, Cæsar, and Alexander; for to be liberal with the property of others does not take from your reputation, but adds to it. What injures you is to give away what is your own. And there is no quality so self-destructive as liberality; for while you practise it you lose the means whereby it can be practised, and become poor and despised, or else, to avoid poverty, you become rapacious and hated. For liberality leads to one or other of these two results, against which, beyond all others, a Prince should guard.

Wherefore it is wiser to put up with the name of being miserly, which breeds ignominy, but without hate, than to be obliged, from the desire to be reckoned liberal, to incur the reproach of rapacity, which breeds hate as well as ignominy.

Chapter XVII: Of Cruelty and Clemency, and Whether It Is Better To Be Loved or Feared

Passing to the other qualities above referred to, I say that every Prince should desire to be accounted merciful and not cruel. Nevertheless, he should be on his guard against the abuse of this quality of mercy. Cesare Borgia was reputed cruel, yet his cruelty restored Romagna, united it, and brought it to order and obedience; so that if we look at things in their true light, it will be seen that he was in reality far more merciful than the people of Florence, who, to avoid the imputation of cruelty, suffered Pistoja to be torn to pieces by factions.

A Prince should therefore disregard the reproach of being thought cruel where it enables him to keep his subjects united and obedient. For he who quells disorder by a very few signal examples will in the end be more merciful than he who from too great leniency permits things to take their course and so to result in rapine and bloodshed; for these hurt the whole State, whereas the severities of the Prince injure individuals only.

And for a new Prince, of all others, it is impossible to escape a name for cruelty, since new States are full of dangers. Wherefore Virgil, by the mouth of Dido, excuses the harshness of her reign on the plea that it was new, saying: —

`A fate unkind, and newness in my reign

Compel me thus to guard a wide domain.’

Nevertheless, the new Prince should not be too ready of belief, nor too easily set in motion; nor should he himself be the first to raise alarms; but should so temper prudence with kindliness that too great confidence in others shall not throw him off his guard, nor groundless distrust render him insupportable.

And here comes in the question whether it is better to be loved rather than feared, or feared rather than loved. It might perhaps be answered that we should wish to be both; but since love and fear can hardly exist together, if we must choose between them, it is far safer to be feared than loved. For of men it may generally be affirmed, that they are thankless, fickle, false studious to avoid danger, greedy of gain, devoted to you while you are able to confer benefits upon them, and ready, as I said before, while danger is distant, to shed their blood, and sacrifice their property, their lives, and their children for you; but in the hour of need they turn against you. The Prince, therefore, who without otherwise securing himself builds wholly on their professions is undone. For the friendships which we buy with a price, and do not gain by greatness and nobility of character, though they be fairly earned are not made good, but fail us when we have occasion to use them.

Moreover, men are less careful how they offend him who makes himself loved than him who makes himself feared. For love is held by the tie of obligation, which, because men are a sorry breed, is broken on every whisper of private interest; but fear is bound by the apprehension of punishment which never relaxes its grasp.

Nevertheless a Prince should inspire fear in such a fashion that if he does not win love he may escape hate. For a man may very well be feared and yet not hated, and this will be the case so long as he does not meddle with the property or with the women of his citizens and subjects. And if constrained to put any to death, he should do so only when there is manifest cause or reasonable justification. But, above all, he must abstain from the property of others. For men will sooner forget the death of their father than the loss of their patrimony. Moreover, pretexts for confiscation are never to seek, and he who has once begun to live by rapine always finds reasons for taking what is not his; whereas reasons for shedding blood are fewer, and sooner exhausted.

But when a Prince is with his army, and has many soldiers under his command, he must needs disregard the reproach of cruelty, for without such a reputation in its Captain, no army can be held together or kept under any kind of control. Among other things remarkable in Hannibal this has been noted, that having a very great army, made up of men of many different nations and brought to fight in a foreign country, no dissension ever arose among the soldiers themselves, nor any mutiny against their leader, either in his good or in his evil fortunes. This we can only ascribe to the transcendent cruelty, which, joined with numberless great qualities, rendered him at once venerable and terrible in the eyes of his soldiers; for without this reputation for cruelty these other virtues would not have produced the like results.

Unreflecting writers, indeed, while they praise his achievements, have condemned the chief cause of them; but that his other merits would not by themselves have been so efficacious we may see from the case of Scipio, one of the greatest Captains, not of his own time only but of all times of which we have record, whose armies rose against him in Spain from no other cause than his too great leniency in allowing them a freedom inconsistent with military strictness. With which weakness Fabius Maximus taxed him in the Senate House, calling him the corrupter of the Roman soldiery. Again, when the Locrians were shamefully outraged by one of his lieutenants, he neither avenged them, nor punished the insolence of his officer; and this from the natural easiness of his disposition. So that it was said in the Senate by one who sought to excuse him, that there were many who knew better how to refrain from doing wrong themselves than how to correct the wrong-doing of others. This temper, however, must in time have marred the name and fame even of Scipio, had he continued in it, and retained his command. But living as he did under the control of the Senate, this hurtful quality was not merely disguised, but came to be regarded as a glory.

Returning to the question of being loved or feared, I sum up by saying, that since his being loved depends upon his subjects, while his being feared depends upon himself, a wise Prince should build on what is his own, and not on what rests with others. Only, as I have said, he must do his utmost to escape hatred.

Chapter XVIII: How Princes Should Keep Faith

Every one understands how praiseworthy it is in a Prince to keep faith, and to live uprightly and not craftily. Nevertheless, we see from what has taken place in our own days that Princes who have set little store by their word, but have known how to overreach men by their cunning, have accomplished great things, and in the end got the better of those who trusted to honest dealing.

Be it known, then, that there are two ways of contending, one in accordance with the laws, the other by force; the first of which is proper to men, the second to beasts. But since the first method is often ineffectual, it becomes necessary to resort to the second. A Prince should, therefore, understand how to use well both the man and the beast. And this lesson has been covertly taught by the ancient writers, who relate how Achilles and many others of these old Princes were given over to be brought up and trained by Chiron the Centaur; since the only meaning of their having for instructor one who was half man and half beast is, that it is necessary for a Prince to know how to use both natures, and that the one without the other has no stability.

But since a Prince should know how to use the beast’s nature wisely, he ought of beasts to choose both the lion and the fox; for the lion cannot guard himself from the toils, nor the fox from wolves. He must therefore be a fox to discern toils, and a lion to drive off wolves.

To rely wholly on the lion is unwise; and for this reason a prudent Prince neither can nor ought to keep his word when to keep it is hurtful to him and the causes which led him to pledge it are removed. If all men were good, this would not be good advice, but since they are dishonest and do not keep faith with you, you in return, need not keep faith with them; and no prince was ever at a loss for plausible reasons to cloak a breach of faith. Of this numberless recent instances could be given, and it might be shown how many solemn treaties and engagements have been rendered inoperative and idle through want of faith in Princes, and that he who was best known to play the fox has had the best success.

It is necessary, indeed, to put a good colour on this nature, and to be skilful in simulating and dissembling. But men are so simple, and governed so absolutely by their present needs, that he who wishes to deceive will never fail in finding willing dupes. One recent example I will not omit. Pope Alexander VI had no care or thought but how to deceive, and always found material to work on. No man ever had a more effective manner of asseverating, or made promises with more solemn protestations, or observed them less. And yet, because he understood this side of human nature, his frauds always succeeded.

It is not essential, then, that a Prince should have all the good qualities which I have enumerated above, but it is most essential that he should seem to have them; I will even venture to affirm that if he has and invariably practises them all, they are hurtful, whereas the appearance of having them is useful. Thus, it is well to seem merciful, faithful, humane, religious, and upright, and also to be so; but the mind should remain so balanced that were it needful not to be so, you should be able and know how to change to the contrary.

And you are to understand that a Prince, and most of all a new Prince, cannot observe all those rules of conduct in respect whereof men are accounted good, being often forced, in order to preserve his Princedom, to act in opposition to good faith, charity, humanity, and religion. He must therefore keep his mind ready to shift as the winds and tides of Fortune turn, and, as I have already said, he ought not to quit good courses if he can help it, but should know how to follow evil courses if he must.

A Prince should therefore be very careful that nothing ever escapes his lips which is not replete with the five qualities above named, so that to see and hear him, one would think him the embodiment of mercy, good faith, integrity, humanity, and religion. And there is no virtue which it is more necessary for him to seem to possess than this last; because men in general judge rather by the eye than by the hand, for every one can see but few can touch. Every one sees what you seem, but few know what you are, and these few dare not oppose themselves to the opinion of the many who have the majesty of the State to back them up.

Moreover, in the actions of all men, and most of all of Princes, where there is no tribunal to which we can appeal, we look to results. Wherefore if a Prince succeeds in establishing and maintaining his authority, the means will always be judged honourable and be approved by every one. For the vulgar are always taken by appearances and by results, and the world is made up of the vulgar, the few only finding room when the many have no longer ground to stand on.

A certain Prince of our own days, whose name it is as well not to mention, is always preaching peace and good faith, although the mortal enemy of both; and both, had he practised them as he preaches them, would, oftener than once, have lost him his kingdom and authority.

Chapter XIX: That a Prince Should Seek to Escape Contempt and Hatred

Having now spoken of the chief of the qualities above referred to, the rest I shall dispose of briefly with these general remarks, that a Prince, as has already in part been said, should consider how he may avoid such courses as would make him hated or despised; and that whenever he succeeds in keeping clear of these, he has performed his part, and runs no risk though he incur other infamies.

A Prince, as I have said before, sooner becomes hated by being rapacious and by interfering with the property and with the women of his subjects, than in any other way. From these, therefore, he should abstain. For so long as neither their property nor their honour is touched, the mass of mankind live contentedly, and the Prince has only to cope with the ambition of a few, which can in many ways and easily be kept within bounds.

A Prince is despised when he is seen to be fickle, frivolous, effeminate, pusillanimous, or irresolute, against which defects he ought therefore most carefully to guard, striving so to bear himself that greatness, courage, wisdom, and strength may appear in all his actions. In his private dealings with his subjects his decisions should be irrevocable, and his reputation such that no one would dream of overreaching or cajoling him.

The Prince who inspires such an opinion of himself is greatly esteemed, and against one who is greatly esteemed conspiracy is difficult; nor, when he is known to be an excellent Prince and held in reverence by his subjects, will it be easy to attack him. For a Prince is exposed to two dangers, from within in respect of his subjects, from without in respect of foreign powers. Against the latter he will defend himself with good arms and good allies, and if he have good arms he will always have good allies; and when things are settled abroad, they will always be settled at home, unless disturbed by conspiracies; and even should there be hostility from without, if he has taken those measures, and has lived in the way I have recommended, and if he never abandons hope, he will withstand every attack; as I have said was done by Nabis the Spartan.

As regards his own subjects, when affairs are quiet abroad, he has to fear they may engage in secret plots; against which a Prince best secures himself when he escapes being hated or despised, and keeps on good terms with his people; and this, as I have already shown at length, it is essential he should do. Not to be hated or despised by the body of his subjects, is one of the surest safeguards that a Prince can have against conspiracy. For he who conspires always reckons on pleasing the people by putting the Prince to death; but when he sees that instead of pleasing he will offend them, he cannot summon courage to carry out his design. For the difficulties that attend conspirators are infinite, and we know from experience that while there have been many conspiracies, few of them have succeeded.

He who conspires cannot do so alone, nor can he assume as his companions any save those whom he believes to be discontented; but so soon as you impart your design to a discontented man, you supply him with the means of removing his discontent, since by betraying you he can procure for himself every advantage; so that seeing on the one hand certain gain, and on the other a doubtful and dangerous risk, he must either be a rare friend to you, or the mortal enemy of his Prince, if he keep your secret.

To put the matter shortly, I say that on the side of the conspirator there are distrust, jealousy, and dread of punishment to deter him, while on the side of the Prince there are the laws, the majesty of the throne, the protection of friends and of the government to defend him; to which if the general good-will of the people be added, it is hardly possible that any should be rash enough to conspire. For while in ordinary cases, the conspirator has ground for fear only before the execution of his villainy, in this case he has also cause to fear after the crime has been perpetrated, since he has the people for his enemy, and is thus cut off from every hope of shelter.

Of this, endless instances might be given, but I shall content myself with one that happened within the recollection of our fathers. Messer Annibale Bentivoglio, Lord of Bologna and grandfather of the present Messer Annibale, was conspired against and murdered by the Canneschi, leaving behind none belonging to him save Messer Giovanni, then an infant in arms. Immediately upon the murder, the people rose and put all the Canneschi to death. This resulted from the general goodwill with which the House of the Bentivogli was then regarded in Bologna; which feeling was so strong, that when upon the death of Messer Annibale no one was left who could govern the State, there being reason to believe that a descendant of the family (who up to that time had been thought to be the son of a smith), was living in Florence, the citizens of Bologna came there for him, and entrusted him with the government of their city; which he retained until Messer Giovanni was old enough to govern.

To be brief, a Prince has little to fear from conspiracies when his subjects are well disposed towards him; but when they are hostile and hold him in detestation, he has then reason to fear everything and every one. And well ordered States and wise Princes have provided with extreme care that the nobility shall not be driven to desperation, and that the commons shall be kept satisfied and contented; for this is one of the most important matters that a Prince has to look to.

Among the well ordered and governed Kingdoms of our day is that of France, wherein we find an infinite number of wise institutions, upon which depend the freedom and the security of the King, and of which the most important are the Parliament and its authority. For he who gave its constitution to this Realm, knowing the ambition and arrogance of the nobles, and judging it necessary to bridle and restrain them, and on the other hand knowing the hatred, originating in fear, entertained against them by the commons, and desiring that they should be safe, was unwilling that the responsibility for this should rest on the King; and to relieve him of the ill-will which he might incur with the nobles by favouring the commons, or with the commons by favouring the nobles, appointed a third party to be arbitrator, who without committing the King, might depress the nobles and uphold the commons. Nor could there be any better, wiser, or surer safeguard for the King and the Kingdom. And hence we may draw another notable lesson, namely, that Princes should devolve on others those matters that entail responsibility, and reserve to themselves those that relate to grace and favour. And again I say that a Prince should esteem the great, but must not make himself odious to the people.

To some it may perhaps appear, that if the lives and deaths of many of the Roman Emperors be considered, they offer examples opposed to the views expressed by me; since we find that some among them who had always lived good lives, and shown themselves possessed of great qualities, were nevertheless deposed and even put to death by their subjects who had conspired against them.

In answer to such objections, I shall examine the characters of several Emperors, and show that the causes of their downfall were in no way different from those which I have indicated. In doing this I shall submit for consideration such matters only as must strike every one who reads the history of these times; and it will be enough for my purpose to take those Emperors who reigned from the time of Marcus the Philosopher to the time of Maximinus, who were, inclusively, Marcus, Commodus his son, Pertinax, Julianus, Severus, Caracalla his son, Macrinus, Heliogabalus, Alexander, and Maximinus.

In the first place, then, we have to note that while in other Princedoms the Prince has only to contend with the ambition of the nobles and the insubordination of the people, the Roman Emperors had a further difficulty to encounter in the cruelty and rapacity of their soldiers, which were so distracting as to cause the ruin of many of these Princes. For it was hardly possible for them to satisfy both the soldiers and the people; the latter loving peace and therefore preferring sober Princes, while the former preferred a Prince of a warlike spirit, however harsh, haughty, or rapacious; being willing that he should exercise these qualities against the people, as the means of procuring for themselves double pay, and indulging their greed and cruelty.

Whence it followed that those Emperors who had not inherited or won for themselves such authority as enabled them to keep both people and soldiers in check, were always ruined. The most of them, and those especially who came to the Empire new and without experience, seeing the difficulty of dealing with these conflicting humours, set themselves to satisfy the soldiers, and made little account of offending the people. And for them this was a necessary course to take; for as Princes cannot escape being hated by some, they should, in the first place, endeavour not to be hated by a class; failing in which, they must do all they can to escape the hatred of that class which is the stronger. Wherefore those Emperors who, by reason of their newness, stood in need of extraordinary support, sided with the soldiery rather than with the people; a course which turned out advantageous or otherwise, according as the Prince knew, or did not know, how to maintain his authority over them.

From the causes indicated it resulted that Marcus, Pertinax, and Alexander, being Princes of a temperate disposition, lovers of justice, enemies of cruelty, gentle, and kindly, had all, save Marcus, an unhappy end. Marcus alone lived and died honoured in the highest degree; and this because he had succeeded to the Empire by right of inheritance, and not through the favour either of the soldiery or of the people; and also because, being endowed with many virtues which made him revered, he kept, while he lived, both factions within bounds, and was never either hated or despised.

But Pertinax was chosen Emperor against the will of the soldiery, who being accustomed to a licentious life under Commodus, could not tolerate the stricter discipline to which his successor sought to bring them back. And having thus made himself hated, and being at the same time despised by reason of his advanced age, he was ruined at the very outset of his reign.

And here it is to be noted that hatred is incurred as well on account of good actions as of bad; or which reason, as I have already said, a Prince who would maintain his authority is often compelled to be other than good. For when the class, be it the people, the soldiers, or the nobles, on whom you judge it necessary to rely for your support, is corrupt, you must needs adapt yourself to its humours, and satisfy these, in which case virtuous conduct will only prejudice you.

Let us now come to Alexander, who was so just a ruler that among the praises ascribed to him it is recorded, that, during the fourteen years he held the Empire, no man was ever put to death by him without trial. Nevertheless, being accounted effeminate, and thought to be governed by his mother, he fell into contempt, and the army conspiring against him, slew him.

When we turn to consider the characters of Commodus, Severus, and Caracalla, we find them all to have been most cruel and rapacious Princes, who to satisfy the soldiery, scrupled not to inflict every kind of wrong upon the people. And all of them, except Severus, came to a bad end. But in Severus there was such strength of character, that, keeping the soldiers his friends, he was able, although he oppressed the people, to reign on prosperously to the last; because his great qualities made him so admirable in the eyes both of the people and the soldiers, that the former remained in a manner amazed and awestruck, while the latter were respectful and contented.

And because his actions, for one who was a new Prince, were thus remarkable, I will point out shortly how well he understood to play the part both of the lion and of the fox, each of which natures, as I have observed before, a Prince should know how to assume.

Knowing the indolent disposition of the Emperor Julianus, Severus persuaded the army which he commanded in Illyria that it was their duty to go to Rome to avenge the death of Pertinax, who had been slain by the Pretorian guards. Under this pretext, and without disclosing his design on the Empire, he put his army in march, and reached Italy before it was known that he had set out. On his arrival in Rome, the Senate, through fear, elected him Emperor and put Julianus to death. After taking this first step, two obstacles still remained to his becoming sole master of the Empire; one in Asia, where Niger who commanded the armies of the East had caused himself to be proclaimed Emperor; the other in the West, where Albinus, who also aspired to the Empire, was in command. And as Severus judged it dangerous to declare open war against both, he resolved to proceed against Niger by arms, and against Albinus by artifice. To the latter, accordingly, he wrote, that having been chosen Emperor by the Senate, he desired to share the dignity with him; that he therefore sent him the title of Caesar, and in accordance with a resolution of the Senate assumed him as his colleague. All which statements Albinus accepted as true. But so soon as Severus had defeated and slain Niger, and restored tranquillity in the East, returning to Rome he complained in the Senate that Albinus, all unmindful of the favours he had received from him, had treacherously sought to destroy him; for which cause he was compelled to go and punish his ingratitude. Whereupon he set forth to seek Albinus in Gaul, where he at once deprived him of his dignities and his life.

Whoever, therefore, examines carefully the actions of this Emperor, will find in him all the fierceness of the lion and all the craft of the fox, and will note how he was feared and respected by the people, yet not hated by the army, and will not be surprised that though a new man, he was able to maintain his hold of so great an Empire. For the splendour of his reputation always shielded him from the odium which the people might otherwise have conceived against him by reason of his cruelty and rapacity.

Caracalla, his son, was likewise a man of great parts, endowed with qualities that made him admirable in the sight of the people, and endeared him to the army, being of a warlike spirit, most patient of fatigue, and contemning all luxury in food and every other effeminacy. Nevertheless, his ferocity and cruelty were so extravagant and unheard of (he having put to death a vast number of the inhabitants of Rome at different times, and the whole of those of Alexandria at a stroke), that he came to be detested by all the world, and so feared even by those whom he had about him, that at the last he was slain by a centurion in the midst of his army.

And here let it be noted that deaths like this which are the result of a deliberate and fixed resolve, cannot be escaped by Princes, since any one who disregards his own life can effect them. A Prince, however, needs the less to fear them as they are seldom attempted. The only precaution he can take is to avoid doing grave wrong to any of those who serve him, or whom he has near him as officers of his Court, a precaution which Caracalla neglected in putting to a shameful death the brother of this centurion, and in using daily threats against the man himself, whom he nevertheless retained as one of his bodyguard. This, as the event showed, was a rash and fatal course.

We come next to Commodus, who, as he took the Empire by hereditary right, ought to have held it with much ease. For being the son of Marcus, he had only to follow in his father’s footsteps to content both the people and the soldiery. But being of a cruel and brutal nature, to sate his rapacity at the expense of the people, he sought support from the army, and indulged it in every kind of excess. On the other hand, by an utter disregard of his dignity, in frequently descending into the arena to fight with gladiators, and by other base acts wholly unworthy of the Imperial station, he became contemptible in the eyes of the soldiery; and being on the one hand hated, on the other despised, was at last conspired against and murdered.

The character of Maximinus remains to be touched upon. He was of a very warlike disposition, and on the death of Alexander, of whom we have already spoken, was chosen Emperor by the army who had been displeased with the effeminacy of that Prince. But this dignity he did not long enjoy, since two causes concurred to render him at once odious and contemptible; the one the baseness of his origin, he having at one time herded sheep in Thrace, a fact well known to all, and which led all to look on him with disdain; the other that on being proclaimed Emperor, delaying to repair to Rome and enter on possession of the Imperial throne, he incurred the reputation of excessive cruelty by reason of the many atrocities perpetrated by his prefects in Rome and other parts of the Empire. The result was that the whole world, stirred at once with scorn of his mean birth and with the hatred which the dread of his ferocity inspired, combined against him, Africa leading the way, the Senate and people of Rome and the whole of Italy following. In which conspiracy his own army joined. For they, being engaged in the siege of Aquileja and finding difficulty in reducing it, disgusted with his cruelty, and less afraid of him when they saw so many against him, put him to death.

I need say nothing of Heliogabalus, Macrinus, or Julianus, all of whom being utterly despicable, came to a speedy downfall, but shall conclude these remarks by observing, that the Princes of our own days are less troubled with the difficulty of having to make constant efforts to keep their soldier in good humour. For though they must treat them with some indulgence, the need for doing so is soon over, since none of these Princes possesses a standing army which, like the armies of the Roman Empire, has strengthened with the growth of his government and the administration of his State. And if it was then necessary to satisfy the soldiers rather than the people, because the soldiers were more powerful than the people, now it is more necessary for all Princes, except the Turk and the Soldan, to satisfy the people rather than the soldiery, since the former are more powerful than the latter.

I except the Turk because he has always about him some twelve thousand foot soldiers and fifteen thousand horse, on whom depend the security and strength of his kingdom, and with whom he must needs keep on good terms, all regard for the people being subordinate. The government of the Soldan is similar, so that he too being wholly in the hands of his soldiers, must keep well with them without regard to the people.

And here you are to note that the State of the Soldan, while it is unlike all other Princedoms, resembles the Christian Pontificate in this, that it can neither be classed as new, nor as hereditary. For the sons of a Soldan who dies do not succeed to the kingdom as his heirs, but he who is elected to the post by those who have authority to make such elections. And this being the ancient and established order of things, the Princedoms cannot be accounted new, since none of the difficulties that attend new Princedoms are found in it. For although the Prince be new, the institutions of the State are old, and are so contrived that the elected Prince is accepted as though he were an hereditary Sovereign.

But returning to the matter in hand, I say that whoever reflects on the above reasoning will see that either hatred or contempt was the ruin of the Emperors whom I have named; and will also understand how it happened that some taking one way and some the opposite, one only by each of these roads came to a happy, and all the rest to an unhappy end. Because for Pertinax and Alexander, they being new Princes, it was useless and hurtful to try to imitate Marcus, who was an hereditary Prince; and similarly for Caracalla, Commodus, and Maximinus it was a fatal error to imitate Severus, since they lacked the qualities that would have enabled them to tread in his footsteps.

In short, a Prince new to the Princedom cannot imitate the actions of Marcus, nor is it necessary that he should imitate all those of Severus; but he should borrow from Severus those parts of his conduct which are needed to serve as a foundation for his government, and from Marcus those suited to maintain it, and render it glorious when once established.

Chapter XX: Whether Fortresses, and Certain Other Expedients to Which Princes Often Have Recourse, are Profitable or Hurtful

To govern more securely some Princes have disarmed their subjects, others have kept the towns subject to them divided by factions; some have fostered hostility against themselves, others have sought to gain over those who at the beginning of their reign were looked on with suspicion; some have built fortresses, others have dismantled and destroyed them; and though no definite judgment can be pronounced respecting any of these methods, without regard to the special circumstances of the State to which it is proposed to apply them, I shall nevertheless speak of them in as comprehensive a way as the nature of the subject will admit.

It has never chanced that any new Prince has disarmed his subjects. On the contrary, when he has found them unarmed he has always armed them. For the arms thus provided become yours, those whom you suspected grow faithful, while those who were faithful at the first, continue so, and from your subjects become your partisans. And though all your subjects cannot be armed, yet if those of them whom you arm be treated with marked favour, you can deal more securely with the rest. For the difference which those whom you supply with arms perceive in their treatment, will bind them to you, while the others will excuse you, recognizing that those who incur greater risk and responsibility merit greater rewards. But by disarming, you at once give offence, since you show your subjects that you distrust them, either as doubting their courage, or as doubting their fidelity, each of which imputations begets hatred against you. Moreover, as you cannot maintain yourself without arms you must have recourse to mercenary troops. What these are I have already shown, but even if they were good, they could never avail to defend you, at once against powerful enemies abroad and against subjects whom you distrust. Wherefore, as I have said already, new Princes in new Princedoms have always provided for their being armed; and of instances of this History is full.

But when a Prince acquires a new State, which thus becomes joined on like a limb to his old possessions, he must disarm its inhabitants, except such of them as have taken part with him while he was acquiring it; and even these, as time and occasion serve, he should seek to render soft and effeminate; and he must so manage matters that all the arms of the new State shall be in the hands of his own soldiers who have served under him in his ancient dominions.

Our forefathers, even such among them as were esteemed wise, were wont to say that ‘Pistoja was to be held by feuds, and Pisa by fortresses,’ and on this principle used to promote dissensions in various subject towns with a view to retain them with less effort. At a time when Italy was in some measure in equilibrium, this may have been a prudent course to follow; but at the present day it seems impossible to recommend it as a general rule of policy. For I do not believe that divisions purposely caused can ever lead to good; on the contrary, when an enemy approaches, divided cities are lost at once, for the weaker faction will always side with the invader, and the other will not be able to stand alone.

The Venetians, influenced as I believe by the reasons above mentioned, fostered the factions of Guelf and Ghibelline in the cities subject to them; and though they did not suffer blood to be shed, fomented their feuds, in order that the citizens having their minds occupied with these disputes might not conspire against them. But this, as we know, did not turn out to their advantage, for after their defeat at Vaila, one of the two factions, suddenly taking courage, deprived them of the whole of their territory.

Moreover methods like these argue weakness in a Prince, for under a strong government such divisions would never be permitted, since they are profitable only in time of peace as an expedient whereby subjects may be more easily managed; but when war breaks out their insufficiency is demonstrated.

Doubtless, Princes become great by vanquishing difficulties and opposition, and Fortune, on that account, when she desires to aggrandize a new Prince, who has more need than an hereditary Prince to win reputation, causes enemies to spring up, and urges them on to attack him, to the end that he may have opportunities to overcome them, and make his ascent by the very ladder which they have planted. For which reason, many are of the opinion that a wise Prince, when he has the occasion, ought dexterously to promote hostility to himself in certain quarters, in order that his greatness may be enhanced by crushing it.

Princes, and new Princes especially, have found greater fidelity and helpfulness in those whom, at the beginning of their reign, they have held in suspicion, than in those who at the outset have enjoyed their confidence; and Pandolfo Petrucci, Lord of Siena, governed his State by the instrumentality of those whom he had at one time distrusted, in preference to all others. But on this point it is impossible to lay down any general rule, since the course to be followed varies with the circumstances. This only I will say, that those men who at the beginning of a reign have been hostile, if of a sort requiring support to maintain them, may always be won over by the Prince with much ease, and are the more bound to serve him faithfully because they know that they have to efface by their conduct the unfavourable impression he had formed of them; and in this way a Prince always obtains better help from them, than from those who serving him in too complete security neglect his affairs.

And since the subject suggests it, I must not fail to remind the Prince who acquires a new State through the favour of its inhabitants, to weigh well what were the causes which led those who favoured him to do so; and if it be seen that they have acted not from any natural affection for him, but merely out of discontent with the former government, that he will find the greatest difficulty in keeping them his friends, since it will be impossible for him to content them. Carefully considering the cause of this, with the aid of examples taken from times ancient and modern, he will perceive that it is far easier to secure the friendship of those who being satisfied with things as they stood, were for that very reason his enemies, than of those who sided with him and aided him in his usurpation only because they were discontented.

It has been customary for Princes, with a view to hold their dominions more securely, to build fortresses which might serve as a curb and restraint on such as have designs against them, and as a safe refuge against a first onset. I approve this custom, because it has been followed from the earliest times. Nevertheless, in our own days, Messer Niccolo Vitelli thought it prudent to dismantle two fortresses in Città di Castello in order to secure that town: and Guido Ubaldo, Duke of Urbino, on returning to his dominions, whence he had been driven by Cesare Borgia, razed to their foundations the fortresses throughout the Dukedom, judging that if these were removed, it would not again be so easily lost. A like course was followed by the Bentivogli on their return to Bologna.

Fortresses, therefore, are useful or no, according to circumstances, and if in one way they benefit, in another they injure you. We may state the case thus: the Prince who is more afraid of his subjects than of strangers ought to build fortresses, while he who is more afraid of strangers than of his subjects, should leave them alone. The citadel built by Francesco Sforza in Milan, has been, and will hereafter prove to be, more dangerous to the House of Sforza than any other disorder of that State. So that, on the whole, the best fortress you can have, is in not being hated by your subjects. If they hate you no fortress will save you; for when once the people take up arms, foreigners are never wanting to assist them.

Within our own time it does not appear that fortresses have been of service to any Prince, unless to the Countess of Forli after her husband Count Girolamo was murdered; for by this means she was able to escape the first onset of the insurgents, and awaiting succour from Milan, to recover her State; the circumstances of the times not allowing any foreigner to lend assistance to the people. But afterwards, when she was attacked by Cesare Borgia, and the people, out of hostility to her, took part with the invader, her fortresses were of little avail. So that, both on this and on the former occasion, it would have been safer for her to have had no fortresses, than to have had her subjects for enemies.

All which considerations taken into account, I shall applaud him who builds fortresses, and him who does not; but I shall blame him who, trusting in them, reckons it a light thing to be held in hatred by his people.

Chapter XXI: How a Prince Should Bear Himself So As to Acquire Reputation

Nothing makes a Prince so well thought of as to undertake great enterprises and give striking proofs of his capacity.

Among the Princes of our time Ferdinand of Aragon, the present King of Spain, may almost be accounted a new Prince, since from one of the weakest he has become, for fame and glory, the foremost King in Christendom. And if you consider his achievements you will find them all great and some extraordinary.

In the beginning of his reign he made war on Granada, which enterprise was the foundation of his power. At first he carried on the war leisurely, without fear of interruption, and kept the attention and thoughts of the Barons of Castile so completely occupied with it, that they had no time to think of changes at home. Meanwhile he insensibly acquired reputation among them and authority over them. With the money of the Church and of his subjects he was able to maintain his armies, and during the prolonged contest to lay the foundations of that military discipline which afterwards made him so famous. Moreover, to enable him to engage in still greater undertakings, always covering himself with the cloak of religion, he had recourse to what may be called pious cruelty, in driving out and clearing his Kingdom of the Moors; than which exploit none could be more wonderful or uncommon. Using the same pretext he made war on Africa, invaded Italy, and finally attacked France; and being thus constantly busied in planning and executing vast designs, he kept the minds of his subjects in suspense and admiration, and occupied with the results of his actions, which arose one out of another in such close succession as left neither time nor opportunity to oppose them.

Again, it greatly profits a Prince in conducting the internal government of his State, to follow striking methods, such as are recorded of Messer Bernabo of Milan, whenever the remarkable actions of any one in civil life, whether for good or for evil, afford him occasion; and to choose such ways of rewarding and punishing as cannot fail to be much spoken of. But above all, he should strive by all his actions to inspire a sense of his greatness and goodness.

A Prince is likewise esteemed who is a stanch friend and a thorough foe, that is to say, who without reserve openly declares for one against another, this being always a more advantageous course than to stand neutral. For supposing two of your powerful neighbours come to blows, it must either be that you have, or have not, reason to fear the one who comes off victorious. In either case it will always be well for you to declare yourself, and join in frankly with one side or other. For should you fail to do so you are certain, in the former of the cases put, to become the prey of the victor to the satisfaction and delight of the vanquished, and no reason or circumstance that you may plead will avail to shield or shelter you; for the victor dislikes doubtful friends, and such as will not help him at a pinch; and the vanquished will have nothing to say to you, since you would not share his fortunes sword in hand.

When Antiochus, at the instance of the Aetolians, passed into Greece in order to drive out the Romans, he sent envoys to the Achaians, who were friendly to the Romans, exhorting them to stand neutral. The Romans, on the other hand, urged them to take up arms on their behalf. The matter coming to be discussed in the Council of the Achaians, the legate of Antiochus again urged neutrality, whereupon the Roman envoy answered— ‘Nothing can be less to your advantage than the course which has been recommended as the best and most useful for your State, namely, to refrain from taking any part in our war, for by standing aloof you will gain neither favour nor fame, but remain the prize of the victor.’ And it will always happen that he who is not your friend will invite you to neutrality, while he who is your friend will call on you to declare yourself openly in arms. Irresolute Princes, to escape immediate danger, commonly follow the neutral path, in most instances to their destruction. But when you pronounce valiantly in favour of one side or other, if he to whom you give your adherence conquers, although he be powerful and you are at his mercy, still he is under obligations to you, and has become your friend; and none are so lost to shame as to destroy with manifest ingratitude, one who has helped them. Besides which, victories are never so complete that the victor can afford to disregard all considerations whatsoever, more especially considerations of justice. On the other hand, if he with whom you take part should lose, you will always be favourably regarded by him; while he can he will aid you, and you become his companion in a cause which may recover.

In the second case, namely, when both combatants are of such limited strength that whichever wins you have no cause to fear, it is all the more prudent for you to take a side, for you will then be ruining the one with the help of the other, who were he wise would endeavour to save him. If he whom you help conquers, he remains in your power, and with your aid he cannot but conquer.

And here let it be noted that a Prince should be careful never to join with one stronger than himself in attacking others, unless, as already said, he be driven to it by necessity. For if he whom you join prevails, you are at his mercy; and Princes, so far as in them lies, should avoid placing themselves at the mercy of others. The Venetians, although they might have declined the alliance, joined with France against the Duke of Milan, which brought about their ruin. But when an alliance cannot be avoided, as was the case with the Florentines when the Pope and Spain together led their armies to attack Lombardy, a Prince, for the reasons given, must take a side. Nor let it be supposed that any State can choose for itself a perfectly safe line of policy. On the contrary, it must reckon on every course which it may take being doubtful; for it happens in all human affairs that we never seek to escape one mischief without falling into another. Prudence therefore consists in knowing how to distinguish degrees of disadvantage, and in accepting a less evil as a good.

Again, a Prince should show himself a patron of merit, and should honour those who excel in every art. He ought accordingly to encourage his subjects by enabling them to pursue their callings, whether mercantile, agricultural, or any other, in security, so that this man shall not be deterred from beautifying his possessions from the apprehension that they may be taken from him, or that other refrain from opening a trade through fear of taxes; and he should provide rewards for those who desire so to employ themselves, and for all who are disposed in any way to add to the greatness of his City or State.

He ought, moreover, at suitable seasons of the year to entertain the people with festivals and shows. And because all cities are divided into guilds and companies, he should show attention to these societies, and sometimes take part in their meetings; offering an example of courtesy and munificence, but always maintaining the dignity of his station, which must under no circumstances be compromised.

Chapter XXII: Of the Secretaries of Princes

The choice of Ministers is a matter of no small moment to a Prince. Whether they shall be good or no depends on his prudence, so that the readiest conjecture we can form of the character and sagacity of a Prince, is from seeing what sort of men he has about him. When they are at once capable and faithful, we may always account him wise, since he has known to recognize their merit and to retain their fidelity. But if they be otherwise, we must pronounce unfavourably of him, since he has committed a first fault in making this selection.

There was none who knew Messer Antonio of Venafro, as Minister of Pandolfo Petrucci, Lord of Siena, but thought Pandolfo a most prudent ruler in having him for his servant. And since there are three scales of intelligence, one which understands by itself, a second which understands what is shown it by others, and a third which understands neither by itself nor on the showing of others, the first of which is most excellent, the second good, but the third worthless, we must needs admit that if Pandolfo was not in the first of these degrees, he was in the second; for when one has the judgment to discern the good from the bad in what another says or does, though he be devoid of invention, he can recognize the merits and demerits of his servant, and will commend the former while he corrects the latter. The servant cannot hope to deceive such a master, and will continue good.

As to how a Prince is to know his Minister, this unerring rule may be laid down. When you see a Minister thinking more of himself than of you, and in all his actions seeking his own ends, that man can never be a good Minister or one that you can trust. For he who has the charge of the State committed to him, ought not to think of himself, but only of his Prince, and should never bring to the notice of the latter what does not directly concern him. On the other hand, to keep his Minister good, the Prince should be considerate of him, dignifying him, enriching him, binding him to himself by benefits, and sharing with him the honours as well as the burthens of the State, so that the abundant honours and wealth bestowed upon him may divert him from seeking them at other hands; while the great responsibilities wherewith he is charged may lead him to dread change, knowing that he cannot stand alone without his master’s support. When Prince and Minister are upon this footing they can mutually trust one another; but when the contrary is the case, it will always fare ill with one or other of them.

Chapter XXIII: That Flatterers Should Be Shunned

One error into which Princes, unless very prudent or very fortunate in their choice of friends, are apt to fall, is of so great importance that I must not pass it over. I mean in respect of flatterers. These abound in Courts, because men take such pleasure in their own concerns, and so deceive themselves with regard to them, that they can hardly escape this plague; while even in the effort to escape it there is risk of their incurring contempt.

For there is no way to guard against flattery but by letting it be seen that you take no offense in hearing the truth: but when every one is free to tell you the truth respect falls short. Wherefore a prudent Prince should follow a middle course, by choosing certain discreet men from among his subjects, and allowing them alone free leave to speak their minds on any matter on which he asks their opinion, and on none other. But he ought to ask their opinion on everything, and after hearing what they have to say, should reflect and judge for himself. And with these counsellors collectively, and with each of them separately, his bearing should be such, that each and all of them may know that the more freely they declare their thoughts the better they will be liked. Besides these, the Prince should hearken to no others, but should follow the course determined on, and afterwards adhere firmly to his resolves. Whoever acts otherwise is either undone by flatterers, or from continually vacillating as opinions vary, comes to be held in light esteem.

With reference to this matter, I shall cite a recent instance. Father Luke, who is attached to the Court of the present Emperor Maximilian, in speaking of his Majesty told me, that he seeks advice from none, yet never has his own way; and this from his following a course contrary to that above recommended. For being of a secret disposition, he never discloses his intentions to any, nor asks their opinion; and it is only when his plans are to be carried out that they begin to be discovered and known, and at the same time they begin to be thwarted by those he has about him, when he being facile gives way. Hence it happens that what he does one day, he undoes the next; that his wishes and designs are never fully ascertained; and that it is impossible to build on his resolves.

A Prince, therefore, ought always to take counsel, but at such times and reasons only as he himself pleases, and not when it pleases others; nay, he should discourage every one from obtruding advice on matters on which it is not sought. But he should be free in asking advice, and afterwards as regards the matters on which he has asked it, a patient hearer of the truth, and even displeased should he perceive that any one, from whatever motive, keeps it back.

But those who think that every Prince who has a name for prudence owes it to the wise counsellors he has around him, and not to any merit of his own, are certainly mistaken; since it is an unerring rule and of universal application that a Prince who is not wise himself cannot be well advised by others, unless by chance he surrender himself to be wholly governed by some one adviser who happens to be supremely prudent; in which case he may, indeed, be well advised; but not for long, since such an adviser will soon deprive him of his Government. If he listen to a multitude of advisers, the Prince who is not wise will never have consistent counsels, nor will he know of himself how to reconcile them. Each of his counsellors will study his own advantage, and the Prince will be unable to detect or correct them. Nor could it well be otherwise, for men will always grow rogues on your hands unless they find themselves under a necessity to be honest.

Hence it follows that good counsels, whencesoever they come, have their origin in the prudence of the Prince, and not the prudence of the Prince in wise counsels.

Chapter XXIV: Why the Princes of Italy Have Lost Their States

The lessons above taught if prudently followed will make a new Prince seem like an old one, and will soon seat him in his place more firmly and securely than if his authority had the sanction of time. For the actions of a new Prince are watched much more closely than those of an hereditary Prince; and when seen to be good are far more effectual than antiquity of blood in gaining men over and attaching them to his cause. For men are more nearly touched by things present than by things past, and when they find themselves well off as they are, enjoy their felicity and seek no further; nay, are ready to do their utmost in defence of the new Prince, provided he be not wanting to himself in other respects. In this way there accrues to him a twofold glory, in having laid the foundations of the new Princedom, and in having strengthened and adorned it with good laws and good arms, with faithful friends and great deeds; as, on the other hand, there is a double disgrace in one who has been born to a Princedom losing it by his own want of wisdom.

And if we contemplate those Lords who in our own times have lost their dominions in Italy, such as the King of Naples, the Duke of Milan, and others, in the first place we shall see, that in respect of arms they have, for reasons already dwelt on, been all alike defective; and next, that some of them have either had the people against them, or if they have had the people with them, have not known how to secure themselves against their nobles. For without such defects as these, States powerful enough to keep an army in the field are never overthrown.

Philip of Macedon, not the father of Alexander the Great, but he who was vanquished by Titus Quintius, had no great State as compared with the strength of the Romans and Greeks who attacked him. Nevertheless, being a Prince of a warlike spirit, and skilful in gaining the good will of the people and in securing the fidelity of the nobles, he maintained himself for many years against his assailants, and in the end, though he lost some towns, succeeded in saving his Kingdom.

Let those Princes of ours, therefore, who, after holding them for a length of years, have lost their dominions, blame not Fortune but their own inertness. For never having reflected in tranquil times that there might come a change (and it is human nature when the sea is calm not to think of storms), when adversity overtook them, they thought not of defence but only of escape, hoping that their people, disgusted with the arrogance of the conqueror, would some day recall them.

This course may be a good one to follow when all others fail, but it were the height of folly, trusting to it, to abandon every other; since none would wish to fall on the chance of some one else being found to lift him up. It may not happen that you are recalled by your people, or if it happen, it gives you no security. It is an ignoble resource, since it does not depend on you for its success; and those modes of defence are alone good, certain and lasting, which depend upon yourself and your own worth.

Chapter XXV: What Fortune Can Effect in Human Affairs, and How She May Be Withstood

I am not ignorant that many have been and are of the opinion that human affairs are so governed by Fortune and by God, that men cannot alter them by any prudence of theirs, and indeed have no remedy against them, and for this reason have come to think that it is not worth while to labour much about anything, but that they must leave everything to be determined by chance.

Often when I turn the matter over, I am in part inclined to agree with this opinion, which has had the readier acceptance in our own times from the great changes in things which we have seen, and every day see happen contrary to all human expectation. Nevertheless, that our free will be not wholly set aside, I think it may be the case that Fortune is the mistress of one half our actions, and yet leaves the control of the other half, or a little less, to ourselves. And I would liken her to one of those wild torrents which, when angry, overflow the plains, sweep away trees and houses, and carry off soil from one bank to throw it down upon the other. Every one flees before them, and yields to their fury without the least power to resist. And yet, though this be their nature, it does not follow that in seasons of fair weather, men cannot, by constructing weirs and moles, take such precautions as will cause them when again in flood to pass off by some artificial channel, or at least prevent their course from being so uncontrolled and destructive. And so it is with Fortune, who displays her might where there is no organized strength to resist her, and directs her onset where she knows that there is neither barrier nor embankment to confine her.

And if you look at Italy, which has been at once the seat of these changes and their cause, you will perceive that it is a field without embankment or barrier. For if, like Germany, France, and Spain, it had been guarded with sufficient skill, this inundation, if it ever came upon us, would never have wrought the violent changes which we have witnessed.

This I think enough to say generally touching resistance to Fortune. But confining myself more closely to the matter in hand, I note that one day we see a Prince prospering and the next day overthrown, without detecting any change in his nature or character. This, I believe, comes chiefly from a cause already dwelt upon, namely, that a Prince who rests wholly on Fortune is ruined when she changes. Moreover, I believe that he will prosper most whose mode of acting best adapts itself to the character of the times; and conversely that he will be unprosperous, with whose mode of acting the times do not accord. For we see that men in these matters which lead to the end that each has before him, namely, glory and wealth, proceed by different ways, one with caution, another with impetuosity, one with violence, another with subtlety, one with patience, another with its contrary; and that by one or other of these different courses each may succeed.

Again, of two who act cautiously, you shall find that one attains his end, the other not, and that two of different temperament, the one cautious, the other impetuous, are equally successful. All which happens from no other cause than that the character of the times accords or does not accord with their methods of acting. And hence it comes, as I have already said, that two operating differently arrive at the same result, and two operating similarly, the one succeeds and the other not. On this likewise depend the vicissitudes of Fortune. For if to one who conducts himself with caution and patience, time and circumstances are propitious, so that his method of acting is good, he goes on prospering; but if these change he is ruined, because he does not change his method of acting.

For no man is found so prudent as to know how to adapt himself to these changes, both because he cannot deviate from the course to which nature inclines him, and because, having always prospered while adhering to one path, he cannot be persuaded that it would be well for him to forsake it. And so when occasion requires the cautious man to act impetuously, he cannot do so and is undone: whereas, had he changed his nature with time and circumstances, his fortune would have been unchanged.

Pope Julius II proceeded with impetuosity in all his undertakings, and found time and circumstances in such harmony with his mode of acting that he always obtained a happy result. Witness his first expedition against Bologna, when Messer Giovanni Bentivoglio was yet living. The Venetians were not favourable to the enterprise; nor was the King of Spain. Negotiations respecting it with the King of France were still open. Nevertheless, the Pope with his wonted hardihood and impetuosity marched in person on the expedition, and by this movement brought the King of Spain and the Venetians to a check, the latter through fear, the former from his eagerness to recover the entire Kingdom of Naples; at the same time, he dragged after him the King of France, who, desiring to have the Pope for an ally in humbling the Venetians, on finding him already in motion saw that he could not refuse him his soldiers without openly offending him. By the impetuosity of his movements, therefore, Julius effected what no other Pontiff endowed with the highest human prudence could. For had he, as any other Pope would have done, put off his departure from Rome until terms had been settled and everything duly arranged, he never would have succeeded. For the King of France would have found a thousand pretexts to delay him, and the others would have menaced him with a thousand alarms. I shall not touch upon his other actions, which were all of a like character, and all of which had a happy issue, since the shortness of his life did not allow him to experience reverses. But if times had overtaken him, rendering a cautious line of conduct necessary, his ruin must have ensued, since he never could have departed from those methods to which nature inclined him.

To be brief, I say that since Fortune changes and men stand fixed in their old ways, they are prosperous so long as there is congruity between them, and the reverse when there is not. Of this, however, I am well persuaded, that it is better to be impetuous than cautious. For Fortune is a woman who to be kept under must be beaten and roughly handled; and we see that she suffers herself to be more readily mastered by those who so treat her than by those who are more timid in their approaches. And always, like a woman, she favours the young, because they are less scrupulous and fiercer, and command her with greater audacity.

Chapter XXVI: An Exhortation to Liberate Italy from the Barbarians

Turning over in my mind all the matters which have above been considered, and debating with myself whether in Italy at the present hour the times are such as might serve to confer honour on a new Prince, and whether a fit opportunity now offers for a prudent and valiant leader to bring about changes glorious for himself and beneficial to the whole Italian people, it seems to me that so many conditions combine to further such an enterprise, that I know of no time so favourable to it as the present. And if, as I have said, it was necessary in order to display the valour of Moses that the children of Israel should be slaves in Egypt, and to know the greatness and courage of Cyrus that the Persians should be oppressed by the Medes, and to illustrate the excellence of Theseus that the Athenians should be scattered and divided, so at this hour, to prove the worth of some Italian hero, it was required that Italy should be brought to her present abject condition, to be more a slave than the Hebrew, more oppressed than the Persian, more disunited than the Athenian, without a head, without order, beaten, spoiled, torn in pieces, over-run and abandoned to destruction in every shape.

But though, heretofore, glimmerings may have been discerned in this man or that, whence it might be conjectured that he was ordained by God for her redemption, nevertheless it has afterwards been seen in the further course of his actions that Fortune has disowned him; so that our country, left almost without life, still waits to know who it is that is to heal her bruises, to put an end to the devastation and plunder of Lombardy, to the exactions and imposts of Naples and Tuscany, and to stanch those wounds of hers which long neglect has changed into running sores.

We see how she prays God to send some one to rescue her from these barbarous cruelties and oppressions. We see too how ready and eager she is to follow any standard were there only some one to raise it. But at present we see no one except in your illustrious House (pre-eminent by its virtues and good fortune, and favoured by God and by the Church whose headship it now holds), who could undertake the part of a deliverer.

But for you this will not be too hard a task, if you keep before your eyes the lives and actions of those whom I have named above. For although these men were singular and extraordinary, after all they were but men, not one of whom had so great an opportunity as now presents itself to you. For their undertakings were not more just than this, nor more easy, nor was God more their friend than yours. The justice of the cause is conspicuous; for that war is just which is necessary, and those arms are sacred from which we derive our only hope. Everywhere there is the strongest disposition to engage in this cause; and where the disposition is strong the difficulty cannot be great, provided you follow the methods observed by those whom I have set before you as models.

But further, we see here extraordinary and unexampled proofs of Divine favour. The sea has been divided; the cloud has attended you on your way; the rock has flowed with water; the manna has rained from heaven; everything has concurred to promote your greatness. What remains to be done must be done by you; since in order not to deprive us of our free will and such share of glory as belongs to us, God will not do everything himself.

Nor is to be marvelled at if none of those Italians I have named has been able to effect what we hope to see effected by your illustrious House; or that amid so many revolutions and so many warlike movements it should always appear as though the military virtues of Italy were spent; for this comes her old system being defective, and from no one being found among us capable to strike out a new. Nothing confers such honour on the reformer of a State, as do the new laws and institutions which he devises; for these when they stand on a solid basis and have a greatness in their scope, make him admired and venerated. And in Italy material is not wanting for improvement in every form. If the head be weak the limbs are strong, and we see daily in single combats, or where few are engaged, how superior are the strength, dexterity, and intelligence of Italians. But when it comes to armies, they are nowhere, and this from no other reason than the defects of their leaders. For those who are skilful in arms will not obey, and every one thinks himself skillful, since hitherto we have had none among us so raised by merit or by fortune above his fellows that they should yield him the palm. And hence it happens that for the long period of twenty years, during which so many wars have taken place, whenever there has been an army purely Italian it has always been beaten. To this testify, first Taro, then Alessandria, Capua, Genoa, Vaila, Bologna, Mestri.

If then your illustrious House should seek to follow the example of those great men who have delivered their country in past ages, it is before all things necessary, as the true foundation of every such attempt, to be provided with national troops, since you can have no braver, truer, or more faithful soldiers; and although every single man of them be good, collectively they will be better, seeing themselves commanded by their own Prince, and honoured and esteemed by him. That you may be able, therefore, to defend yourself against the foreigner with Italian valour, the first step is to provide yourself with an army such as this.

And although the Swiss and the Spanish infantry are each esteemed formidable, there are yet defects in both, by reason of which troops trained on a different system might not merely withstand them, but be certain of defeating them. For the Spaniards cannot resist cavalry and the Swiss will give way before infantry if they find them as resolute as themselves at close quarters. Whence it has been seen, and may be seen again, that the Spaniards cannot sustain the onset of the French men-at-arms and that the Swiss are broken by the Spanish foot. And although of this last we have no complete instance, we have yet an indication of it in the battle of Ravenna, where the Spanish infantry confronted the German companies who have the same discipline as the Swiss; on which occasion the Spaniards by their agility and with the aid of their bucklers forced their way under the pikes, and stood ready to close with the Germans, who were no longer in a position to defend themselves; and had they not been charged by cavalry, they must have put the Germans to utter rout. Knowing, then, the defects of each of these kinds of troops, you can train your men on some different system, to withstand cavalry and not to fear infantry. To effect this, will not require the creation of any new forces, but simply a change in the discipline of the old. And these are matters in reforming which the new Prince acquires reputation and importance.

This opportunity then, for Italy at last to look on her deliverer, ought not to be allowed to pass away. With what love he would be received in all those Provinces which have suffered from the foreign inundation, with what thirst for vengeance, with what fixed fidelity, with what devotion, and what tears, no words of mine can declare. What gates would be closed against him? What people would refuse him obedience? What jealousy would stand in his way? What Italian but would yield him homage? This barbarian tyranny stinks in all nostrils.

Let your illustrious House therefore take upon itself this enterprise with all the courage and all the hopes with which a just cause is undertaken; so that under your standard this our country may be ennobled, and under your auspices be fulfilled the words of Petrarch: —

Brief will be the strife
When valour arms against barbaric rage;
For the bold spirit of the bygone age
Still warms Italian hearts with life.
Petrarch, Canz. XVI, V. 93-96

THE ORIGINAL ITALIAN TEXT, 1540

CONTENTS

Niccolò Machiavelli al Magnifico Lorenzo di Piero de’ Medici.

CAPITOLO I. Quante siano le specie de’ Principati, e con quali modi si acquistino.

CAPITOLO II. De’ Principati ereditari.

CAPITOLO III. De’ principati misti.

CAPITOLO IV. Perchè il Regno di Dario da Alessandro occupato non si ribellò dalli successori di Alessandro dopo la sua morte.

CAPITOLO V. In che modo siano da governare le città o Principati, quali, prima che occupati fussino, vivevano con le loro leggi.

CAPITOLO VI. De’ Principati nuovi, che con le proprie armi e virtù si acquistano.

CAPITOLO VII. De’ Principati nuovi, che con forze d’altri e per fortuna si acquistano.

CAPITOLO VIII. Di quelli che per scelleratezze sono pervenuti al Principato.

CAPITOLO IX. Del Principato civile.

CAPITOLO X. In che modo le forze di tutti i Principati si debbino misurare.

CAPITOLO XI. De’ Principati Ecclesiastici.

CAPITOLO XII. Quante siano le spezie della milizia, e de’ soldati mercenari.

CAPITOLO XIII. De’ soldati ausiliari, misti, e propri.

CAPITOLO XIV. Quello che al Principe si appartenga circa la milizia.

CAPITOLO XV. Delle cose, mediante le quali gli uomini, e massimamente i Principi, sono lodati o vituperati.

CAPITOLO XVI. Della liberalità e miseria.

CAPITOLO XVII. Della crudeltà e clemenzia; e se egli è meglio essere amato, che temuto.

CAPITOLO XVIII. In che modo i Principi debbino osservare la fede.

CAPITOLO XIX. Che si debbe fuggire l’essere disprezzato e odiato.

CAPITOLO XX. Se le fortezze, e molte altre cose che spesse volte i Principi fanno, sono utili o dannose.

CAPITOLO XXI. Come si debba governare un Principe per acquistarsi riputazione.

CAPITOLO XXII. Delli segretari de’ Principi.

CAPITOLO XXIII. Come si debbino fuggire gli adulatori.

CAPITOLO XXIV. Perchè i Principi d’Italia abbino perduto i loro Stati.

CAPITOLO XXV. Quanto possa nelle umane cose la fortuna, e in che modo se gli possa ostare.

CAPITOLO XXVI. Esortazione a liberare la Italia da’ barbari.

Niccolò Machiavelli al Magnifico Lorenzo di Piero de’ Medici.

NICC. MACHIAVELLI

al

MAGNIFICO LORENZO

DI PIERO DE’ MEDICI.

Sogliono il più delle volte coloro che desiderano acquistare grazia appresso un Principe, farsegli innanzi con quelle cose, che tra le loro abbino più care, o delle quali vegghino lui più dilettarsi; donde si vede molte volte esser loro presentati cavalli, arme, drappi d’oro, pietre preziose e simili ornamenti, degni della grandezza di quelli. Desiderando io adunque offerirmi alla Vostra Magnificenza con qualche testimone della servitù mia verso di quella, non ho trovato, tra la mia suppellettile, cosa, quale io abbia più cara, o tanto stimi, quanto la cognizione delle azioni degli uomini grandi, imparata da me con una lunga sperienza delle cose moderne, ed una continova lezione delle antiche, la quale avendo io con gran diligenza lungamente escogitata ed esaminata, ed ora in uno piccolo volume ridotta, mando alla Magnificenza Vostra. E benchè io giudichi questa opera indegna della presenza di quella; nondimeno confido assai, che per sua umanità gli debba essere accetta, considerato che da me non li possa essere fatto maggior dono, che darle facultà a poter in brevissimo tempo intendere tutto quello, che io in tanti anni, e con tanti miei disagi e pericoli ho cognosciuto ed inteso: la quale opera io non ho ornata nè ripiena di clausule ampie, o di parole ampollose o magnifiche, o di qualunque altro lenocinio o ornamento estrinseco, con li quali molti sogliono le lor cose discrivere ed ornare; perchè io ho voluto o che veruna cosa la onori, o che solamente la verità della materia, e la gravità del soggetto la faccia grata. Nè voglio sia riputata presunzione, se uno uomo di basso ed infimo stato ardisce discorrere e regolare i governi de’ Principi; perchè così come coloro che disegnano i paesi, si pongono bassi nel piano a considerare la natura de’ monti e de’ luoghi alti, e per considerare quella de’ bassi si pongono alti sopra i monti; similmente, a cognoscer bene la natura de’ popoli bisogna esser Principe, ed a cognoscer bene quella de’ Principi conviene essere popolare. Pigli adunque Vostra Magnificenza questo piccolo dono con quello animo che io lo mando; il quale se da quella fia diligentemente considerato e letto, vi cognoscerà dentro uno estremo mio desiderio, che ella pervenga a quella grandezza che la fortuna, e le altre sue qualità le promettono. E se Vostra Magnificenza dallo apice della sua altezza qualche volta volgerà gli occhi in questi luoghi bassi, cognoscerà, quanto indegnamente io sopporti una grande e continova malignità di fortuna.

CAPITOLO I. Quante siano le specie de’ Principati, e con quali modi si acquistino.

Tutti gli Stati, tutti i dominii che hanno avuto, e hanno imperio sopra gli uomini, sono stati e sono o Repubbliche o Principati. I principati sono o ereditari, de’ quali il sangue del loro Signore ne sia stato lungo tempo Principe, o e’ sono nuovi. I nuovi o sono nuovi tutti, come fu Milano a Francesco Sforza, o sono come membri aggiunti allo stato ereditario del Principe che gli acquista, come è il Regno di Napoli al Re di Spagna. Sono questi dominii, così acquistati, o consueti a vivere sotto un Principe, o usi ad esser liberi; ed acquistansi o con le armi di altri o con le proprie, o per fortuna o per virtù.

CAPITOLO II. De’ Principati ereditari.

Io lascerò indietro il ragionare delle Repubbliche, perchè altra volta ne ragionai a lungo. Volterommi solo al Principato, e anderò, nel ritessere queste orditure di sopra, disputando come questi Principati si possono governare e mantenere. Dico adunque, che nelli Stati ereditari, ed assuefatti al sangue del loro Principe, sono assai minori difficultà a mantenergli, che ne’ nuovi; perchè basta solo non trapassare l’ordine de’ suoi antenati, e dipoi temporeggiare con gli accidenti, in modo che se tal Principe è di ordinaria industria, sempre si manterrà nel suo Stato, se non è una straordinaria ed eccessiva forza che ne lo priva; e privato che ne sia, quantunque di sinistro abbia lo occupatore, lo racquista. Noi abbiamo in Italia, per esempio, il Duca di Ferrara, il quale non ha retto agli assalti de’ Viniziani nell’84, nè a quelli di Papa Iulio nel 10 per altre cagioni che per essere antiquato in quel Dominio. Perchè il Principe naturale ha minori cagioni e minori necessità di offendere; donde conviene che sia più amato; e se strasordinarii vizi non lo fanno odiare, è ragionevole che naturalmente sia ben voluto da’ suoi; e nell’antichità e continuazione del dominio sono spente le memorie e le cagioni delle innovazioni; perchè sempre una mutazione lascia lo addentellato per la edificazione dell’altra.

CAPITOLO III. De’ principati misti.

Ma nel Principato nuovo consistono le difficultà. E prima se non è tutto nuovo, ma come membro, che si può chiamare tutto insieme quasi misto, le variazioni sue nascono in prima da una natural difficultà, quale è in tutti i Principati nuovi; perchè gli uomini mutano volentieri Signore, credendo migliorare; e questa credenza gli fa pigliar l’arme contro a chi regge; di che s’ingannano, perchè veggono poi per esperienza aver peggiorato. Il che dipende da un’altra necessità naturale ed ordinaria, quale fa che sempre bisogni offendere quelli, di chi si diventa nuovo Principe; e con gente d’arme, e con infinite altre ingiurie che si tira dietro il nuovo acquisto. Dimodochè ti trovi avere inimici tutti quelli che tu hai offesi in occupare quel Principato; e non ti puoi mantenere amici quelli, che vi ti hanno messo, per non gli potere satisfare in quel modo che si erano presupposto, e per non potere tu usare contra di loro medicine forti, essendo loro obbligato; perchè sempre, ancorchè uno sia fortissimo in su gli eserciti, ha bisogno del favore de’ provinciali ad entrare in una provincia. Per queste ragioni Luigi XII Re di Francia occupò subito Milano, e subito lo perdè, e bastarono a toglierlo la prima volta le forze proprie di Lodovico; perchè quelli popoli, che gli avevano aperte le porte, trovandosi ingannati della opinione loro, e di quel futuro bene che si aveano presupposto, non potevano sopportare fastidi del nuovo Principe. È ben vero che acquistandosi poi la seconda volta i paesi ribellati, si perdono con più difficultà; perchè il Signore, presa occasione dalla rebellione, è meno rispettivo ad assicurarsi, con punire i delinquenti, chiarire i sospetti, provvedersi nelle parti più deboli. In modo che se a far perdere Milano a Francia bastò la prima volta un Duca Lodovico, che romoreggiasse in su’ confini, a farlo dipoi perdere la seconda, gli bisognò avere contro il mondo tutto, e che gli eserciti suoi fossero spenti, e cacciati d’Italia; il che nacque dalle cagioni sopraddette. Nondimeno e la prima e la seconda volta gli fu tolto. Le cagioni universali della prima si sono discorse; resta ora a vedere quelle della seconda, e dire che remedii egli aveva, e quali può avere uno che fusse ne’ termini suoi, per potersi meglio mantenere nello acquistato, che non fece il Re di Francia. Dico pertanto, che questi Stati, i quali acquistandosi si aggiungono a uno Stato antico di quello che gli acquista, o sono della medesima provincia e della medesima lingua, o non sono. Quando siano, è facilità grande a tenergli, massimamente quando non siano usi a vivere liberi; e, a possedergli sicuramente, basta avere spenta la linea del Principe, che li dominava; perchè nelle altre cose, mantenendosi loro le condizioni vecchie, e non vi essendo disformità di costumi, gli uomini si vivono quietamente, come si è visto, che ha fatto la Borgogna, la Bertagna, la Guascogna, e la Normandia, che tanto tempo sono state con Francia; e benchè vi sia qualche disformità di lingua, nondimeno i costumi sono simili, e possonsi tra loro facilmente comportare: e a chi le acquista, volendole tenere, bisogna avere due rispetti; l’uno che il sangue del loro Principe antico si spenga; l’altro di non alterare nè loro leggi nè loro dazi; talmentechè in brevissimo tempo diventa con il loro Principato antico tutto un corpo. Ma quando si acquistano Stati in una provincia disforme di lingua, di costumi, e di ordini, qui sono le difficultà, e qui bisogna avere gran fortuna, e grande industria a tenergli; ed uno de’ maggiori rimedii e più vivi sarebbe, che la persona di chi gli acquista vi andasse ad abitare.

Questo farebbe più sicura e più durabile quella possessione, come ha fatto il Turco di Grecia, il quale con tutti gli altri ordini osservati da lui per tenere quello Stato, se non vi fusse ito ad abitare, non era possibile, che lo tenesse. Perchè standovi, si veggono nascere i disordini, e presto vi si può rimediare; non vi stando, s’intendono quando sono grandi, e non vi è più rimedio. Non è oltre a questo la provincia spogliata da’ tuoi ufiziali; satisfannosi i sudditi del ricorso propinquo al Principe, donde hanno più cagione di amarlo, volendo essere buoni, e volendo essere altrimente, di temerlo. Chi degli esterni volesse assaltare quello Stato, vi ha più rispetto; tantochè abitandovi lo può con grandissima difficultà perdere. L’altro migliore rimedio è mandare colonie in uno o in due luoghi, che siano quasi le chiavi di quello Stato; perchè è necessario o far questo, o tenervi assai gente d’arme e fanterie. Nelle colonie non ispende molto il Principe, e senza sua spesa, o poca, ve le manda e tiene, e solamente offende coloro, a chi toglie i campi e le case per darle a’ nuovi abitatori, che sono una minima parte di quello Stato; e quelli che egli offende, rimanendo dispersi e poveri, non gli possono mai nuocere, e tutti gli altri rimangono da una parte non offesi, e per questo si quietano facilmente; dall’altra paurosi di non errare, perchè non intervenisse loro come a quelli che sono stati spogliati. Conchiudo, che queste colonie non costano, sono più fedeli, offendono meno, e gli offesi, essendo poveri e dispersi, non possono nuocere, come ho detto. Perchè si ha a notare, che gli uomini si debbono o vezzeggiare o spegnere, perchè si vendicano delle leggieri offese; delle gravi non possono: sicchè l’offesa che si fa all’uomo, deve essere in modo, che ella non tema la vendetta. Ma tenendovi, in cambio di colonie, gente d’arme, si spende più assai, avendo a consumare nella guardia tutte l’entrate di quello Stato: in modo che l’acquistato gli torna in perdita, ed offende molto più; perchè nuoce a tutto quello Stato, tramutando con gli alloggiamenti il suo esercito; del quale disagio ognuno ne sente, e ciascuno li diventa nimico, e sono inimici, che gli possono nuocere, rimanendo battuti in casa loro. Da ogni parte dunque questa guardia è inutile, come quella delle colonie è utile. Debbe ancora chi è in una provincia disforme, come è detto, farsi capo e difensore de’ vicini minori potenti, ed ingegnarsi d’indebolire i più potenti di quella, e guardare che, per accidente alcuno, non vi entri uno forestiere non meno potente di lui: e sempre interverrà che vi sarà messo da coloro che saranno in quella malcontenti o per troppa ambizione o per paura; come si vide già che gli Etoli misero li Romani in Grecia; ed in ogni altra provincia che loro entrarono, vi furono messi dai provinciali. E l’ordine della cosa è, che subito che un forestiere potente entra in una provincia, tutti quelli che sono in essa meno potenti, gli aderiscono, mossi da una invidia che hanno contro a chi è stato potente sopra di loro; tantochè rispetto a questi minori potenti, egli non ha a durare fatica alcuna a guadagnarli, perché subito tutti insieme volentieri fanno massa con lo Stato, che egli vi ha acquistato. Ha solamente a pensare, che non piglino troppe forze, e troppa autorità; e facilmente può con le forze sue, e con il favor loro abbassare quelli che sono potenti, per rimanere in tutto arbitro di quella provincia. E chi non governerà bene questa parte, perderà presto quello che arà acquistato; e mentre che lo terrà, vi arà dentro infinite difficultà e fastidi.

I Romani nelle provincie che pigliarono, osservarono bene queste parti, e mandarono le colonie, intrattenerono i men potenti senza crescere loro potenza, abbassarono li potenti, e non vi lasciarono prendere riputazione a’ potenti forestieri. E voglio mi basti solo la provincia di Grecia per esempio. Furono intrattenuti da loro gli Achei, e gli Etoli, fu abbassato il Regno de’ Macedoni, funne cacciato Antioco; nè mai gli meriti degli Achei o delli Etoli fecero che permettessero loro accrescere alcuno Stato, nè le persuasioni di Filippo gli indussero mai ad essergli amici senza sbassarlo, nè la potenza di Antioco potè fare gli consentissero che tenesse in quella provincia alcuno Stato. Perchè i Romani fecero in questi casi quello che tutti i Principi savi debbono fare, li quali non solamente hanno ad aver riguardo alli scandoli presenti, ma alli futuri, ed a quelli con ogni industria riparare; perchè prevedendosi discosto, facilmente vi si può rimediare, ma aspettando, che ti s’appressino, la medicina non è più a tempo, perchè la malattia è diventata incurabile; ed interviene di questa come dicono i medici dell’etica, che nel principio è facile a curare, e difficile a cognoscere, ma nel corso del tempo, non l’avendo nel principio cognosciuta nè medicata, diventa facile a cognoscere e difficile a curare. Così interviene nelle cose dello Stato, perchè cognoscendo discosto, il che non è dato se non ad un prudente, i mali che nascono in quello, si guariscono presto; ma quando, per non gli aver cognosciuti, si lasciano crescere in modo che ognuno li cognosce, non vi è più rimedio. Però i Romani vedendo discosto gl’inconvenienti, li rimediarono sempre, e non li lasciarono mai seguire per fuggire una guerra, perchè sapevano, che la guerra non si leva, ma si differisce con vantaggio d’altri; però volsero fare con Filippo ed Antioco guerra in Grecia, per non l’avere a fare con loro in Italia; il che non volsero, nè piacque mai loro quello che tutto dì è in bocca de’ savi de’ nostri tempi, Godere li beneficii del tempo; ma bene quello della virtù e prudenza loro; perchè il tempo si caccia innanzi ogni cosa, e può condurre seco bene come male, male come bene.

Ma torniamo a Francia, ed esaminiamo se delle cose dette ne ha fatto alcuna; e parlerò di Luigi e non di Carlo, come di colui, del quale, per aver tenuto più lunga possessione in Italia, si sono meglio visti li suoi andamenti; e vedrete, come egli ha fatto il contrario di quelle cose, che si debbono fare per tenere uno Stato disforme. Il Re Luigi fu messo in Italia dall’ambizione de’ Viniziani, che volsero guadagnarsi mezzo lo Stato di Lombardia per quella venuta. Io non voglio biasimare quella venuta o partito preso dal Re; perchè, volendo cominciare a mettere un piede in Italia, e non avendo in questa provincia amici, anzi essendoli, per li portamenti del Re Carlo, serrate tutte le porte, fu forzato prendere quelle amicizie che poteva; e sarebbeli riuscito il pensiero bene preso, quando negli altri maneggi non avesse fatto errore alcuno. Acquistata adunque il Re la Lombardia, si riguadagnò subito quella riputazione che gli aveva tolta Carlo; Genova cedette, i Fiorentini gli diventarono amici, Marchese di Mantova, Duca di Ferrara, Bentivogli, Madonna di Furlì, Signore di Faenza, di Pesaro, di Rimino, di Camerino, di Piombino, Lucchesi, Pisani, Sanesi, ognuno se li fece incontro per essere suo amico. Ed allora poterono considerare li Viniziani la temerità del partito preso da loro, i quali, per acquistare due terre in Lombardia, fecero Signore il Re di duoi terzi d’Italia. Consideri ora uno con quanta poca difficultà poteva il Re tenere in Italia la sua riputazione, se egli avessi osservate le regole sopraddette, e tenuti sicuri, e difesi tutti quelli amici suoi, li quali, per essere gran numero, e deboli, e paurosi chi della Chiesa, chi de’ Viniziani, erano sempre necessitati a star seco, e per il mezzo loro poteva facilmente assicurarsi di chi ci restava grande. Ma egli non prima fu in Milano, che fece il contrario, dando aiuto a Papa Alessandro, perché egli occupasse la Romagna. Nè si accorse con questa deliberazione che faceva sè debole, togliendosi li amici, e quelli che se li erano gittati in grembo, e la Chiesa grande, aggiugnendo allo spirituale, che gli dà tanta autorità, tanto temporale. E fatto un primo errore, fu costretto a seguitare; intantochè, per porre fine all’ambizione di Alessandro, e perché non divenisse Signore di Toscana, gli fu forza venire in Italia. E non gli bastò aver fatto grande la Chiesa, e toltisi gli amici, che per volere il regno di Napoli, lo divise con il Re di Spagna; e dove egli era prima arbitro d’Italia, vi messe un compagno, acciochè gli ambiziosi di quella provincia e malcontenti di lui avessero dove ricorrere; e dove poteva lasciare in quel Regno un Re suo pensionario, egli ne lo trasse per mettervi uno che potesse cacciarne lui. È cosa veramente molto naturale e ordinaria desiderare di acquistare, e sempre, quando gli uomini lo fanno che possino, ne saranno laudati e non biasimati; ma quando non possono e vogliono farlo in ogni modo, qui è il biasimo e l’errore. Se Francia adunque con le sue forze poteva assaltare Napoli, doveva farlo; se non poteva, non doveva dividerlo. E se la divisione che fece con i Viniziani di Lombardia, meritò scusa per avere con quella messo il piè in Italia, questa meritò biasimo per non essere scusato da quella necessità.

Aveva adunque Luigi fatto questi cinque errori: spenti i minori potenti; accresciuto in Italia potenza a un potente; messo in quella un forestiere potentissimo; non venuto ad abitarvi; non vi messo colonie. Li quali errori, vivendo lui, potevano ancora non lo offendere, se non avesse fatto il sesto, di torre lo Stato a’ Viniziani; perchè quando non avesse fatto grande la Chiesa, nè messo in Italia, Spagna, era ben ragionevole e necessario abbassarli; ma, avendo preso quelli primi partiti, non doveva mai consentire alla rovina loro; perchè essendo quelli potenti, arebbono sempre tenuti gli altri discosto dalla impresa di Lombardia, sì perchè i Viniziani non vi arebbero consentito, senza diventarne Signori loro; sì perchè gli altri non arebbero voluto torla a Francia per darla a loro; e andarli ad urtare ambidui non arebbero avuto animo. E se alcun dicesse, il Re Luigi cedè ad Alessandro la Romagna, ed a Spagna il Regno per fuggire una guerra; rispondo con le ragioni dette di sopra, che non si debba mai lasciar seguire uno disordine per fuggire una guerra; perchè ella non si fugge, ma si differisce a tuo disavvantaggio. E se alcuni altri allegassero la fede, che il Re aveva data al Papa, di far per lui quella impresa per la risoluzione del suo matrimonio, e per il Cappello di Roano, rispondo con quello che per me di sotto si dirà circa la fede dei Principi, e come ella si debba osservare.

Ha perduto dunque il Re Luigi la Lombardia per non avere osservato alcuno di quelli termini osservati da altri, che hanno preso provincie, e volutele tenere. Nè è miracolo alcuno questo, ma molto ragionevole ed ordinario. E di questa materia parlai a Nantes con Roano, quando il Valentino (che così volgarmente era chiamato Cesare Borgia figliuolo di Papa Alessandro) occupava la Romagna; perchè dicendomi il Cardinale Roano, che gl’Italiani non s’intendevano della guerra, io risposi, che i Francesi non s’intendevano dello Stato, perchè, intendendosene, non lascerebbono venire la Chiesa in tanta grandezza. E per esperienza si è visto, che la grandezza in Italia di quella, e di Spagna, è stata causata da Francia, e la rovina sua è proceduta da loro. Di che si cava una regola generale, quale non mai, o raro falla, che chi è cagione che uno diventi potente, rovina; perchè quella potenza è causata da colui o con industria, o con forza, e l’una e l’altra di queste due è sospetta a chi è divenuto potente.

CAPITOLO IV. Perchè il Regno di Dario da Alessandro occupato non si ribellò dalli successori di Alessandro dopo la sua morte.

Considerate le difficultà, le quali si hanno in tenere uno Stato acquistato di nuovo, potrebbe alcuno maravigliarsi, donde nacque che Alessandro Magno diventò Signore dell’Asia in pochi anni, e, non l’avendo appena occupata, morì, donde pareva ragionevole che tutto quello Stato si ribellasse; nondimeno li successori suoi se lo mantennero, e non ebbono a tenerselo altra difficultà, che quella che intra loro medesimi per propria ambizione nacque. Rispondo come i Principati, de’ quali si ha memoria, si trovano governati in due modi diversi, o per un Principe, e tutti gli altri servi, i quali come ministri per grazia e concessione sua aiutano governare quel Regno; o per un Principe e per Baroni, i quali non per grazia del Signore, ma per antichità di sangue tengono quel grado. Questi tali Baroni hanno Stati e sudditi propri, li quali gli riconoscono per Signori, e hanno in loro naturale affezione. Quelli Stati che si governano per un Principe e per servi, hanno il loro Principe con più autorità; perchè in tutta la sua provincia non è alcuno che riconosca per superiore se non lui; e se ubbidiscono altri, lo fanno come a ministro e ufficiale, e non gli portano particolare amore. Gli esempi di queste due diversità di governi sono, ne’ nostri tempi, il Turco e il Re di Francia. Tutta la monarchia del Turco è governata da un Signore; gli altri sono suoi servi; e distinguendo il suo Regno in Sangiacchi, vi manda diversi amministratori, e gli muta e varia come pare a lui. Ma il Re di Francia è posto in mezzo di una moltitudine antica di Signori, ricognosciuti da’ loro sudditi, ed amati da quelli; hanno le loro preminenzie, nè le può il Re torre loro senza suo pericolo. Chi considera adunque l’uno e l’altro di questi Stati, troverà difficultà nell’acquistare lo Stato del Turco; ma vinto che sia, è facilità grande a tenerlo.

Le cagioni della difficultà in potere occupare il Regno del Turco sono per non potere l’occupatore essere chiamato da’ Principi di quel Regno, nè sperare con la ribellione di quelli che egli ha d’intorno, potere facilitare la sua impresa; il che nasce dalle ragioni sopraddette. Perchè essendogli tutti schiavi ed obbligati, si possono con più difficultà corrompere; e quando bene si corrompessino, se ne può sperare poco utile, non potendo quelli trarsi dietro i popoli, per le ragioni assegnate. Onde chi assalta il Turco è necessario pensare di averlo a trovare unito, e li conviene sperare più nelle forze proprie, che ne’ disordini di altri; ma vinto che fusse, e rotto alla campagna, in modo che non possa rifare eserciti, non si ha a dubitare d’altro, che del sangue del Principe, il quale spento, non resta alcuno di chi si abbia a temere, non avendo li altri credito con gli popoli; e come il vincitore avanti la vittoria non poteva sperare in loro, così non debbe dopo quella temere di loro.

Il contrario interviene ne’ Regni governati come è quello di Francia, perchè con facilità puoi entrarvi, guadagnandoti alcuno Barone del Regno; perchè sempre si trova de’ malcontenti, e di quelli che desiderano innovare. Costoro, per le ragioni dette, ti possono aprire la via a quello Stato, e facilitarti la vittoria; la quale dipoi a volerti mantenere, si tira dietro infinite difficultà e con quelli che ti hanno aiutato, e con quelli che tu hai oppressi. Nè ti basta spegnere il sangue del Principe; perchè vi rimangono quelli Signori, che si fanno capi delle nuove alterazioni, e non li potendo nè contentare, nè spegnere, perdi quello stato qualunque volta venga la occasione. Ora se voi considererete di qual natura di governi era quello di Dario, lo troverete simile al Regno del Turco; e però ad Alessandro fu necessario prima urtarlo tutto, e torgli la campagna; dopo la quale vittoria essendo Dario morto, rimase ad Alessandro quello stato sicuro, per le ragioni sopra discorse. E li suoi successori, se fussino stati uniti, se lo potevano godere oziosi; nè in quello Regno nacquero altri tumulti, che quelli che loro proprii suscitarono. Ma gli Stati ordinati, come quello di Francia, è impossibile possedergli con tanta quiete. Di qui nacquero le spesse ribellioni di Spagna, di Francia, e di Grecia da’ Romani, per li spessi Principati che erano in quelli Stati, de’ quali mentre che durò la memoria, sempre furono i Romani incerti di quella possessione; ma spenta la memoria di quelli, con la potenza e diuturnità dell’imperio, ne diventarono sicuri possessori. E poterono dipoi anche quelli, combattendo tra loro, ciascuno tirarsi dietro parte di quelle provincie, secondo l’autorità vi aveva preso dentro; e quelle, per essere il sangue del loro antico Signore spento, non ricognoscevano altri, che i Romani. Considerando adunque queste cose, non si maraviglierà alcuno della facilità che ebbe Alessandro a tenere lo Stato d’Asia, e delle difficultà che hanno avuto gli altri a conservare l’acquistato, come Pirro, e molti altri; il che non è accaduto dalla poca o molta virtù del vincitore, ma dalla disformità del suggetto.

CAPITOLO V. In che modo siano da governare le città o Principati, quali, prima che occupati fussino, vivevano con le loro leggi.

Quando quelli Stati che si acquistano, come è detto, sono consueti a vivere con le loro leggi e in libertà, a volergli tenere ci sono tre modi. Il primo è rovinargli. L’altro andarvi ad abitare personalmente. Il terzo lasciargli vivere con le sue leggi, tirandone una pensione, e creandovi dentro uno Stato di pochi, che te lo conservino amico. Perchè essendo quello Stato creato da quel Principe, sa che non può stare senza l’amicizia e potenza sua, e ha da fare il tutto per mantenerlo; e più facilmente si tiene una città usa a vivere libera con il mezzo de’ suoi cittadini, che in alcuno altro modo, volendola preservare.

Sonoci, per esempio, gli Spartani, ed i Romani. Gli Spartani tennero Atene e Tebe, creandovi uno Stato di pochi: nientedimeno le perderono. I Romani per tenere Capua, Cartagine, e Numanzia, le disfecero, e non le perderono. Vollero tenere la Grecia quasi come la tennero gli Spartani, facendola libera, e lasciandole le sue leggi, e non successe loro; in modo che furono costretti disfare molte città di quella provincia per tenerla, perchè in verità non ci è modo sicuro a possederle, altro che la rovina. E chi diviene padrone di una città consueta a vivere libera, e non la disfaccia, aspetti di essere disfatto da quella; perchè sempre ha per refugio nella ribellione il nome della libertà, e gli ordini antichi suoi, li quali nè per lunghezza di tempo, nè per beneficii mai si scordano; e per cosa che si faccia o si provvegga, se non si disuniscono o dissipano gli abitatori, non si dimentica quel nome, nè quelli ordini, ma subito in ogni accidente vi si ricorre, come fe’ Pisa dopo tanti anni che ella era stata posta in servitù da’ Fiorentini. Ma quando le città o le provincie sono use a vivere sotto un Principe, e quel sangue sia spento, essendo da una parte use ad ubbidire, dall’altra non avendo il Principe vecchio, farne uno intra loro non si accordano, vivere libere non sanno; dimodochè sono più tarde a pigliare le armi, e con più facilità se li può un Principe guadagnare, e assicurarsi di loro. Ma nelle Republiche è maggior odio, più desiderio di vendetta, nè le lascia nè può lasciare riposare la memoria dell’antica libertà; talchè la più sicura via è spegnerle, o abitarvi.

CAPITOLO VI. De’ Principati nuovi, che con le proprie armi e virtù si acquistano.

Non si maravigli alcuno se nel parlare che io farò de’ Principati al tutto nuovi, e di Principe e di Stato, io addurrò grandissimi esempi; perchè, camminando gli uomini quasi sempre per le vie battute da altri, e procedendo nelle azioni loro con le imitazioni, nè si potendo le vie d’altri al tutto tenere, nè alla virtù di quelli che tu imiti, aggiugnere, debbe un uomo prudente entrare sempre per vie battute da uomini grandi, e quelli che sono stati eccellentissimi, imitare, acciochè se la sua virtù non v’arriva, almeno ne renda qualche odore; e fare come gli arcieri prudenti, ai quali parendo il luogo, dove disegnano ferire, troppo lontano, e cognoscendo fino a quanto arriva la virtù del loro arco, pongono la mira assai più alta, che il luogo destinato, non per aggiugnere con la loro forza o freccia a tanta altezza, ma per potere con lo aiuto di sì alta mira pervenire al disegno loro. Dico adunque, che ne’ Principati in tutto nuovi, dove sia un nuovo Principe, si trova più o meno difficultà a mantenergli, secondo che più o meno virtuoso è colui che gli acquista. E perchè questo evento di diventare di privato Principe presuppone o virtù o fortuna, pare che l’una o l’altra di queste due cose mitighino in parte molte difficultà. Nondimeno colui che è stato manco in su la fortuna, si è mantenuto più. Genera ancora facilità l’essere il Principe costretto, per avere altri Stati, venirvi personalmente ad abitare. Ma per venire a quelli, che per propria virtù e non per fortuna sono diventati Principi, dico, che li più eccellenti sono Moisè, Ciro, Romulo, Teseo, e simili. E benchè di Moisè non si debba ragionare, essendo stato un mero esecutore delle cose che gli erano ordinate da Dio; pure merita di essere ammirato solamente per quella grazia che lo faceva degno di parlare con Dio.

Ma considerando Ciro e gli altri, che hanno acquistato o fondato regni, si troveranno tutti mirabili; e se si considereranno le azioni e ordini loro particulari, non parranno differenti da quelli di Moisè, benchè egli ebbe sì gran precettore. Ed esaminando le azioni, e vita loro, non si vedrà che quelli avessino altro dalla fortuna, che l’occasione, la quale dette loro materia di potervi introdurre quella forma che a lor parse; e senza quella occasione la virtù dell’animo loro si saria spenta, e senza quella virtù l’occasione sarebbe venuta invano. Era adunque necessario a Moisè trovare il popolo d’Isdrael in Egitto schiavo, e oppresso dagli Egizi, acciocchè quelli, per uscire di servitù, si disponessino a seguirlo. Conveniva che Romulo non capesse in Alba, e fusse stato esposto al nascer suo, a volere che diventasse Re di Roma, e fondatore di quella patria. Bisognava che Ciro trovasse i Persi malcontenti dell’imperio de’ Medi, ed i Medi molli ed effeminati per lunga pace. Non poteva Teseo dimostrare la sua virtù, se non trovava gli Ateniesi dispersi. Queste occasioni pertanto feciono questi uomini felici, e l’eccellente virtù loro fece quella occasione esser cognosciuta: donde la loro patria ne fu nobilitata, e diventò felicissima. Quelli i quali per vie virtuose simili a costoro diventano Principi, acquistano il Principato con difficultà, ma con facilità lo tengono; e le difficultà che hanno nell’acquistare il Principato, nascono in parte da’ nuovi ordini e modi, che sono forzati introdurre per fondare lo Stato loro e la loro sicurtà. E debbesi considerare come non è cosa più difficile a trattare, nè più dubbia a riuscire, nè più pericolosa a maneggiare, che farsi capo ad introdurre nuovi ordini. Perchè l’introduttore ha per nimici tutti coloro che degli ordini vecchi fanno bene; e tepidi difensori tutti quelli che degli ordini nuovi farebbono bene; la qual tepidezza nasce, parte per paura degli avversari, che hanno le leggi in beneficio loro, parte dalla incredulità degli uomini, i quali non credono in verità le cose nuove, se non ne veggono nata esperienza ferma. Donde nasce che qualunque volta quelli che sono nimici, hanno occasione di assaltare, lo fanno parzialmente, e quelli altri difendono tepidamente, in modo che insieme con loro si periclita. È necessario pertanto, volendo discorrere bene questa parte, esaminare se questi innovatori stanno per lor medesimi, o se dipendano da altri; cioè, se per condurre l’opera loro bisogna che preghino, ovvero possono forzare. Nel primo caso capitano sempre male, e non conducono cosa alcuna; ma quando dipendono da loro proprii, e possono forzare, allora è che rade volte periclitano. Di qui nacque che tutti li Profeti armati vinsono, e li disarmati rovinarono; perchè, oltre le cose dette, la natura de’ popoli è varia, ed è facile a persuadere loro una cosa, ma è difficile fermargli in quella persuasione. E però conviene essere ordinato in modo, che, quando non credono più, si possa far lor credere per forza.

Moisè, Ciro, Teseo, e Romulo non arebbono potuto fare osservare lungamente le loro costituzioni, se fussero stati disarmati, come ne’ nostri tempi intervenne a Frate Girolamo Savonarola, il quale rovinò ne’ suoi ordini nuovi, come la moltitudine cominciò a non credergli, e lui non aveva il modo da tenere fermi quelli, che avevano creduto, nè a far credere i discredenti. Però questi tali hanno nel condursi gran difficultà, e tutti i loro pericoli sono tra via, e conviene che con la virtù gli superino; ma superati che gli hanno, e che cominciano ad essere in venerazione, avendo spenti quelli che di sua qualità gli avevano invidia, rimangono potenti, sicuri, onorati, felici. A sì alti esempi io voglio aggiugnere uno esempio minore; ma bene arà qualche proporzione con quelli, e voglio mi basti per tutti li altri simili: e questo è Ierone Siracusano. Costui di privato diventò Principe di Siracusa; nè ancor egli cognobbe altro dalla fortuna che l’occasione: perchè essendo i Siracusani oppressi l’elessono per loro capitano, donde meritò d’essere fatto loro Principe; e fu di tanta virtù ancora in privata fortuna, che chi ne scrive dice, che niente gli mancava a regnare eccetto il Regno. Costui spense la milizia vecchia, ordinò la nuova, lasciò le amicizie antiche, prese delle nuove; e come ebbe amicizie e soldati che fussero suoi, potette in su tale fondamento edificare ogni edificio; tantochè egli durò assai fatica in acquistare, e poca in mantenere.

CAPITOLO VII. De’ Principati nuovi, che con forze d’altri e per fortuna si acquistano.

Coloro i quali solamente per fortuna diventano di privati Principi, con poca fatica diventano, ma con assai si mantengono: e non hanno difficultà alcuna tra via, perchè vi volano; ma tutte le difficultà nascono dappoi che vi sono posti. E questi tali sono quelli, a chi è concesso alcuno Stato o per danari, o per grazia di chi lo concede, come intervenne a molti in Grecia nelle città di Ionia, e dell’Ellesponto, dove furono fatti Principi da Dario, acciò le tenessero per sua sicurtà e gloria, come erano ancora fatti quelli Imperadori, che di privati per corruzione de’ soldati pervenivano allo Imperio. Questi stanno semplicemente in su la volontà e fortuna di chi gli ha fatti grandi, che sono due cose volubilissime e instabili, e non sanno e non possono tenere quel grado; non sanno, perchè se non è uomo di grande ingegno e virtù, non è ragionevole, che, essendo sempre vissuto in privata fortuna, sappia comandare; non possono, perchè non hanno forze che gli possino essere amiche e fedeli. Dipoi gli Stati che vengono subito, come tutte le altre cose della natura che nascono e crescono presto, non possono avere le radici e corrispondenzie loro in modo che il primo tempo avverso non le spenga; se già quelli, come è detto, che sì in un subito sono diventati Principi, non sono di tanta virtù, che quello che la fortuna ha messo loro in grembo, sappino subito prepararsi a conservare, e quelli fondamenti, che gli altri hanno fatti avanti che diventino Principi, gli faccino poi.

Io voglio all’uno e all’altro di questi modi, circa il diventare Principe per virtù o per fortuna, addurre duoi esempi stati ne’ dì della memoria nostra: e questi sono Francesco Sforza, e Cesare Borgia. Francesco per li debiti mezzi, e con una sua gran virtù, di privato diventò Duca di Milano, e quello che con mille affanni aveva acquistato, con poca fatica mantenne. Dall’altra parte Cesare Borgia, chiamato dal vulgo Duca Valentino, acquistò lo Stato con la fortuna del Padre, e con quella lo perdette, non ostante che per lui si usasse ogni opera, e facessinsi tutte quelle cose che per un prudente e virtuoso uomo si dovevano fare, per mettere le radici sue in quelli Stati, che l’armi e fortuna di altri gli aveva concessi. Perchè, come di sopra si disse, chi non fa i fondamenti prima, gli potrebbe con una gran virtù fare dipoi, ancorchè si faccino con disagio dell’architettore, e pericolo dello edificio. Se adunque si considererà tutti i progressi del Duca, si vedrà quanto lui avesse fatto gran fondamenti alla futura potenzia, li quali non giudico superfluo discorrere, perchè io non saprei quali precetti mi dare migliori ad un Principe nuovo, che lo esempio delle azioni sue; e se gli ordini suoi non gli giovarono, non fu sua colpa, perchè nacque da una strasordinaria ed estrema malignità di fortuna. Aveva Alessandro VI nel voler fare grande il Duca suo figliuolo assai difficultà presenti e future. Prima non vedeva via di poterlo fare Signore di alcuno Stato, che non fusse Stato di Chiesa; e sapeva che il Duca di Milano e i Viniziani non glielo consentirebbono, perchè Faenza e Rimino erano di già sotto la protezione de’ Viniziani. Vedeva, oltre a questo, le armi d’Italia, e quelle in spezie, di chi si fusse possuto servire, essere nelle mani di coloro che dovevano temere la grandezza del Papa; e però non se ne poteva fidare, essendo tutte negli Orsini, e Colonnesi, e loro seguaci. Era adunque necessario che si turbassero quelli ordini, e disordinare gli Stati d’Italia, per potersi insignorire sicuramente di parte di quelli; il che gli fu facile; perchè trovò i Viniziani, che mossi da altre cagioni si erano volti a fare ripassare i Francesi in Italia; il che non solamente non contradisse, ma fece più facile con la risoluzione del matrimonio antico del Re Luigi. Passò adunque il Re in Italia con lo aiuto de’ Viniziani e consenso di Alessandro; nè prima fu in Milano, che il Papa ebbe da lui gente per l’impresa di Romagna, la quale gli fu consentita per la riputazione del Re.

Acquistata adunque il Duca la Romagna, e battuti i Colonnesi, volendo mantenere quella, e procedere più avanti, l’impedivano due cose: l’una l’armi sue, che non gli parevano fedeli; l’altra la volontà di Francia; ciòè temeva che l’armi Orsine, delle quali si era servito, non gli mancassero sotto, e non solamente gl’impedissero l’acquistare, ma gli togliessero l’acquistato; e che il Re ancora non gli facesse il simile. Degli Orsini ne ebbe uno riscontro quando dopo l’espugnazione di Faenza assaltò Bologna, che gli vide andare freddi in quello assalto. E circa il Re, cognobbe l’animo suo, quando, preso il Ducato di Urbino, assaltò la Toscana; dalla quale impresa il Re lo fece desistere; ondechè il Duca deliberò non dipendere più dalla fortuna ed armi d’altri. E la prima cosa indebolì le parti Orsine e Colonnesi in Roma, perchè tutti gli aderenti loro, che fussino gentiluomini, si guadagnò, facendogli suoi gentiluomini, e, dando loro gran provvisioni, gli onorò secondo le qualità loro, di condotte e di governi; in modo che in pochi mesi negli animi loro l’affezione delle parti si spense, e tutta si volse nel Duca.

Dopo questo aspettò l’occasione di spegnere gli Orsini, avendo dispersi quelli di casa Colonna, la quale gli venne bene, ed egli usò meglio; perchè avvedutisi gli Orsini tardi che la grandezza del Duca e della Chiesa era la lor rovina, fecero una dieta a Magione nel Perugino. Da quella nacque la ribellione di Urbino, e li tumulti di Romagna, ed infiniti pericoli del Duca, li quali superò tutti con l’aiuto de’ Francesi; e ritornatoli la riputazione, nè si fidando di Francia, nè di altre forze esterne, per non le avere a cimentare si volse agl’inganni, e seppe tanto dissimulare l’animo suo, che gli Orsini, mediante il Signor Paulo, si riconciliarono seco, con il quale il duca non mancò di ogni ragione di ufizio per assicurarlo, dandoli veste, danari, e cavalli; tantochè la semplicità loro gli condusse a Sinigaglia nelle sue mani. Spenti adunque questi capi, e ridotti li partigiani loro amici suoi, aveva il Duca gittati assai buoni fondamenti alla potenza sua, avendo tutta la Romagna con il Ducato di Urbino, e guadagnatosi tutti quei popoli, per avere incominciato a gustare il ben essere loro. E perchè questa parte è degna di notizia, e da essere imitata da altri, non la voglio lasciare indietro.

Preso che ebbe il Duca la Romagna, trovandola essere stata comandata da Signori impotenti, quali piuttosto avevano spogliato i loro sudditi, che correttoli, e dato loro materia di disunione, che di unione; tantochè quella provincia era tutta piena di latrocini, di brighe, e di ogni altra sorte d’insolenza, giudicò necessario, a volerla ridurre pacifica ed obbediente al braccio regio, darli un buon governo. Però vi prepose messer Ramiro d’Orco, uomo crudele ed espedito, al quale dette pienissima potestà. Costui in breve tempo la ridusse pacifica e unita con grandissima riputazione. Dipoi giudicò il Duca non essere a proposito sì eccessiva autorità, perchè dubitava non diventasse odiosa; e preposevi un giudizio civile nel mezzo della provincia, con un presidente eccellentissimo, dove ogni città avea l’avvocato suo. E perchè cognosceva le rigorosità passate avergli generato qualche odio, per purgare gli animi di quelli popoli, e guadagnarseli in tutto, volse mostrare che se crudeltà alcuna era seguita, non era nata da lui, ma dall’acerba natura del ministro. E, preso sopra questo occasione, lo fece mettere una mattina in duo pezzi a Cesena in su la piazza con un pezzo di legno e un coltello sanguinoso a canto. La ferocità del quale spettacolo fece quelli popoli in un tempo rimanere soddisfatti e stupidi. Ma torniamo donde noi partimmo.

Dico, che trovandosi il Duca assai potente, ed in parte assicurato da’ presenti pericoli, per essersi armato a suo modo, ed avere in buona parte spente quelle armi che vicine lo potevano offendere, li restava, volendo procedere con l’acquisto, il respetto di Francia; perchè cognosceva che dal Re, il quale tardi si era avveduto dell’errore suo, non gli sarebbe sopportato. E cominciò per questo a cercare amicizie nuove, e vacillare con Francia, nella venuta che fecero i Francesi verso il Regno di Napoli contro li Spagnuoli che assediavano Gaeta. E l’animo suo era di assicurarsi di loro; il che già saria presto riuscito, se Alessandro viveva. E questi furono i governi suoi circa le cose presenti. Ma quanto alle future egli aveva da dubitare; prima che un nuovo successore alla Chiesa non gli fusse amico, e cercasse torgli quello che Alessandro gli aveva dato; e pensò farlo in quattro modi. Primo, con ispegnere tutti i sangui di quelli Signori che egli aveva spogliato, per torre al Papa quelle occasioni. Secondo, con guadagnarsi tutti i gentiluomini di Roma per potere con quelli, come è detto, tenere il Papa in freno. Terzo, con ridurre il Collegio più suo che poteva. Quarto, con acquistare tanto imperio, avanti che il Papa morisse, che potesse per sè medesimo resistere a un primo impeto.

Di queste quattro cose alla morte di Alessandro ne aveva condotte tre; la quarta aveva quasi per condotta. Perchè de’ Signori spogliati ne ammazzò quanti ne potè aggiugnere, e pochissimi si salvarono; i gentiluomini Romani si aveva guadagnato; e nel Collegio aveva grandissima parte. E quanto al nuovo acquisto, aveva disegnato diventare Signore di Toscana; e possedeva già Perugia e Piombino, e di Pisa aveva preso la protezione. E come non avesse dovuto avere rispetto a Francia (che non glie n’aveva ad aver più, per essere già i Francesi spogliati del Regno di Napoli dagli Spagnuoli, in forma che ciascun di loro era necessitato di comperare l’amicizia sua), saltava in Pisa. Dopo questo, Lucca e Siena cedeva subito, parte per invidia de’ Fiorentini, e parte per paura; i Fiorentini non avevano rimedio; il che se li fusse riuscito, che gli riusciva l’anno medesimo che Alessandro morì, si acquistava tante forze e tanta riputazione, che per sè stesso si sarebbe retto, senza dipendere dalla fortuna o forza d’altri, ma solo dalla potenza e virtù sua. Ma Alessandro morì dopo cinque anni, che egli aveva incominciato a trarre fuora la spada. Lasciollo con lo Stato di Roma solamente assolidato, con tutti gli altri in aria, intra duoi potentissimi eserciti inimici, ammalato a morte. Ed era nel Duca tanta ferocia e tanta virtù, e si ben cognosceva come gli uomini s’abbino a guadagnare o perdere, e tanto erano validi i fondamenti che in sì poco tempo si aveva fatti, che se non avesse avuto quelli eserciti addosso, o fusse stato sano, arebbe retto ad ogni difficultà. E che li fondamenti suoi fussino buoni, si vide, che la Romagna l’aspettò più di un mese; in Roma, ancora che mezzo morto, stette sicuro; e benchè i Baglioni, Vitelli, e Orsini venissero in Roma, non ebbero seguito contro di lui. Potè fare, se non chi egli volle, almeno che non fusse Papa chi egli non voleva. Ma se nella morte di Alessandro fusse stato sano, ogni cosa gli era facile. Ed egli mi disse ne’ dì che fu creato Iulio II, che avea pensato a tutto quello che potesse nascere morendo il Padre, e a tutto aveva trovato rimedio, eccetto che non pensò mai in su la sua morte di stare ancora lui per morire. Raccolte adunque tutte queste azioni del Duca, non saprei riprenderlo, anzi mi pare, come io ho fatto, di proporlo ad imitare a tutti coloro, che per fortuna e con l’armi d’altri sono saliti all’imperio. Perchè egli avendo l’animo grande, e la sua intenzione alta, non si poteva governare altrimente; e solo si oppose alli suoi disegni la brevità della vita di Alessandro, e la sua infirmità.

Chi adunque giudica necessario nel suo Principato nuovo assicurarsi degl’inimici, guadagnarsi amici, vincere o per forza o per fraude, farsi amare e temere da’ populi, seguire e riverire da’ soldati, spegnere quelli che ti possono o debbono offendere, e innovare con nuovi modi gli ordini antichi, essere severo e grato, magnanimo e liberale, spegnere la milizia infedele, creare della nuova, mantenersi le amicizie de’ Re e delli Principi, in modo che ti abbino a beneficare con grazia, o ad offendere con rispetto, non può trovare più freschi esempi, che le azioni di costui. Solamente si può accusarlo nella creazione di Iulio II, nella quale egli ebbe mala elezione; perchè, come è detto, non potendo fare un Papa a suo modo, poteva tenere, che uno non fusse Papa; e non dovea acconsentire mai al Papato di quelli Cardinali, che lui avesse offesi, o che diventati Pontefici avessino ad avere paura di lui. Perchè gli uomini offendono o per paura, o per odio. Quelli che egli aveva offesi, erano, tra gli altri, S. Pietro ad Vincula, Colonna, S. Giorgio, Ascanio. Tutti gli altri assunti al Pontificato avevano da temerlo, eccetto Roano e gli Spagnuoli. Questi per coniunzione e obbligo, quello per potenza, avendo congiunto seco il Regno di Francia. Pertanto il Duca innanzi ad ogni cosa doveva creare Papa uno Spagnuolo; e, non potendo, dovea consentire che fusse Roano, e non S. Pietro ad Vincula. E chi crede che ne’ personaggi grandi beneficii nuovi faccino dimenticare l’ingiurie vecchie, s’inganna. Errò adunque il Duca in questa elezione, e fu cagione dell’ultima rovina sua.

CAPITOLO VIII. Di quelli che per scelleratezze sono pervenuti al Principato.

Ma perchè di privato si diventa ancora in duoi modi Principe, il che non si può al tutto, o alla fortuna, o alla virtù attribuire, non mi pare da lasciargli indietro, ancora che dell’uno si possa più diffusamente ragionare dove si trattasse delle Republiche. Questi sono, quando o per qualche via scellerata e nefaria si ascende al Principato, o quando uno privato cittadino con il favore degli altri suoi cittadini diventa Principe della sua patria. E, parlando del primo modo, si mostrerà con duoi esempi, l’uno antico, l’altro moderno, senza entrare altrimenti ne’ meriti di questa parte, perchè giudico che bastino a chi fusse necessitato imitargli. Agatocle Siciliano, non solo di privata, ma d’infima ed abietta fortuna, divenne Re di Siracusa. Costui nato di un orciolaio, tenne sempre per i gradi della sua fortuna vita scellerata. Nondimanco accompagnò le sue scelleratezze con tanta virtù di animo e di corpo, che voltosi alla milizia, per li gradi di quella pervenne ad essere Pretore di Siracusa. Nel quale grado essendo costituito, ed avendo deliberato volere diventar Principe, e tenere con violenza e senza obbligo d’altri quello che d’accordo gli era stato concesso, ed avuto di questo suo disegno intelligenza con Amilcare Cartaginese, il quale con gli eserciti militava in Sicilia, congregò una mattina il Popolo ed il Senato di Siracusa, come se egli avesse avuto a deliberare cose pertinenti alla Repubblica; e, ad uno cenno ordinato, fece da’ suoi soldati uccidere tutti li Senatori, e li più ricchi del popolo; li quali morti, occupò e tenne il Principato di quella città senza alcuna controversia civile. E benchè da’ Cartaginesi fusse due volte rotto, e ultimamente assediato, non solamente potè difendere la sua città, ma lasciata parte della sua gente alla difesa di quella, con l’altre assaltò l’Affrica, e in breve tempo liberò Siracusa dall’assedio, e condusse i Cartaginesi in estrema necessità: i quali furono necessitati ad accordarsi con quello, ad essere contenti della possessione dell’Affrica, e ad Agatocle lasciare la Sicilia.

Chi considerasse adunque le azioni e virtù di costui, non vedria cose o poche, le quali possa attribuire alla fortuna, conciossiachè, come di sopra è detto, non per favore di alcuno, ma per li gradi della milizia, quali con mille disagi e pericoli si aveva guadagnato, pervenisse al Principato, e quello dipoi con tanti animosi partiti e pericolosi mantenesse. Non si può chiamare ancora virtù ammazzare li suoi cittadini, tradire gli amici, essere senza fede, senza pietà, senza religione; li quali modi possono far acquistare imperio, ma non gloria. Perchè se si considerasse la virtù di Agatocle nell’entrare e nell’uscire de’ pericoli, e la grandezza dell’animo suo nel sopportare e superare le cose avverse, non si vede perchè egli abbia ad essere tenuto inferiore a qualsisia eccellentissimo capitano. Nondimeno la sua efferata crudeltà e inumanità, con infinite scelleratezze, non consentono che sia tra li eccellentissimi uomini celebrato. Non si può adunque attribuire alla fortuna o alla virtù quello che senza l’una e l’altra fu da lui conseguito. Ne’ tempi nostri, regnante Alessandro VI, Oliverotto da Fermo, essendo più anni addietro rimaso piccolo, fu da un suo zio materno, chiamato Giovanni Fogliani, allevato, e ne’ primi tempi della sua gioventù dato a militare sotto Paulo Vitelli, acciocchè ripieno di quella disciplina, pervenisse a qualche grado eccellente di milizia. Morto dipoi Paulo, militò sotto Vitellozzo suo fratello, ed in brevissimo tempo, per essere ingegnoso, e della persona e dell’animo gagliardo, diventò de’ primi uomini della sua milizia. Ma parendogli cosa servile lo stare con altri, pensò, con l’aiuto di alcuni cittadini di Fermo, a’ quali era più cara la servitù, che la libertà della loro patria, e con il favore Vitellesco, di occupare Fermo; e scrisse a Giovanni Fogliani, come essendo stato più anni fuor di casa, voleva venire a veder lui e la sua città, e in qualche parte ricognoscere il suo patrimonio. E perchè non si era affaticato per altro, che per acquistare onore, acciocchè i suoi cittadini vedessero come non aveva speso il tempo invano, voleva venire onorevolmente, ed accompagnato da cento cavalli di suoi amici e servitori, e pregavalo che fusse contento ordinare che da’ Firmani fusse ricevuto onoratamente; il che non solamente tornava onore a lui, ma a sè proprio, essendo suo allievo.

Non mancò pertanto Giovanni di alcuno officio debito verso il nipote, e fattolo ricevere onoratamente da’ Firmani, alloggiò nelle case sue, dove passato alcun giorno, ed atteso a ordinare quello che alla sua futura scelleratezza era necessario, fece un convito solennissimo, dove invitò Giovanni Fogliani, e tutti li primi uomini di Fermo. Ed avuto che ebbero fine le vivande, e tutti gli altri intrattenimenti che in simili conviti si fanno, Oliverotto ad arte mosse certi ragionamenti gravi, parlando della grandezza di Papa Alessandro e di Cesare suo figliuolo, e dell’imprese loro; alli quali ragionamenti rispondendo Giovanni e gli altri, egli ad un tratto si rizzò, dicendo quelle essere cose da parlarne in più segreto luogo, e ritirossi in una camera, dove Giovanni e tutti gli altri cittadini gli andarono dietro: Nè prima furono posti a sedere, che da luoghi secreti di quella uscirono soldati che ammazzarono Giovanni e tutti gli altri. Dopo il quale omicidio montò Oliverotto a cavallo, e corse la terra, ed assediò nel palazzo il supremo magistrato; tantochè per paura furono costretti ubbidirlo, e fermare un governo, del quale si fece Principe. E morti tutti quelli che, per essere malcontenti, lo potevano offendere, si corroborò con nuovi ordini civili e militari; in modo che in spazio di un anno che tenne il Principato, non solamente egli era sicuro nella città di Fermo, ma era diventato formidabile a tutti li suoi vicini; e sarebbe stata la sua espugnazione difficile, come quella di Agatocle, se non si fusse lasciato ingannare da Cesare Borgia, quando a Sinigaglia, come di sopra si disse, prese gli Orsini e Vitelli, dove, preso ancora lui, un anno dopo il commesso parricidio, fu insieme con Vitellozzo, il quale aveva avuto maestro delle virtù e scelleratezze sue, strangolato.

Potrebbe alcuno dubitare donde nascesse che Agatocle ed alcuno simile, dopo infiniti tradimenti e crudeltà, potette vivere lungamente sicuro nella sua patria, e difendersi dagl’inimici esterni, e da suoi cittadini non gli fu mai conspirato contra; conciossiachè molti altri, mediante la crudeltà, non abbino mai possuto ancora ne’ tempi pacifici mantenere lo Stato, non che ne’ tempi dubbiosi di guerre. Credo che questo avvenga dalle crudeltà male usate o bene usate. Bene usate si possono chiamare quelle, se del male è lecito dire bene, che si fanno una sol volta per necessità dell’assicurarsi, e dipoi non vi s’insiste dentro, ma si convertiscono in più utilità de’ sudditi che si può. Le male usate sono quelle, quali ancora che da principio siano poche, crescono piuttosto col tempo che le si spenghino. Coloro che osserveranno quel primo modo, possono con Dio e con gli uomini allo Stato loro avere qualche rimedio, come ebbe Agatocle. Quegli altri è impossibile si mantenghino. Onde è da notare, che nel pigliare uno Stato, debbe l’occupatore di esso discorrere e fare tutte le crudeltà in un tratto, e per non avere a ritornarvi ogni dì, e per potere, non l’innovando, assicurare gli uomini, e guadagnarseli con beneficargli. Chi fa altrimente per timidità o per mal consiglio, è sempre necessitato tenere il coltello in mano, nè mai si può fondare sopra i suoi sudditi, non si potendo quelli, per le continue e fresche ingiurie, assicurare di lui. Perchè le ingiurie si debbono fare tutte insieme, acciocchè assaporandosi meno, offendino meno; li beneficii si debbono fare a poco a poco, acciocchè si assaporino meglio. E deve sopra tutto un Principe vivere con li suoi sudditi in modo che nessuno accidente, o di male, o di bene, lo abbia a far variare; perchè, venendo per li tempi avversi la necessità, tu non sei a tempo al male; ed il bene che tu fai, non ti giova, perchè è giudicato forzato, e non grado alcuno ne riporti.

CAPITOLO IX. Del Principato civile.

Ma venendo all’altra parte quando un Principe cittadino, non per scelleratezza o altra intollerabile violenza, ma con il favore degli altri suoi cittadini diventa Principe della sua patria, il qual si può chiamare Principato civile, nè al pervenirvi è necessario o tutta virtù, o tutta fortuna, ma piuttosto un’astuzia fortunata; dico, che si ascende a questo Principato o col favore del popolo, o col favore de’ grandi. Perchè in ogni città si trovano questi duoi umori diversi, e nascono da questo, che il popolo desidera non esser comandato nè oppresso da’ grandi, e i grandi desiderano comandare e opprimere il popolo; e da questi duoi appetiti diversi surge nelle città uno de’ tre effetti, o Principato, o Libertà, o Licenza. Il Principato è causato o dal popolo, o da’ grandi, secondochè l’una, o l’altra di queste parte ne ha l’occasione; perchè vedendo i grandi non poter resistere al popolo, cominciano a voltare la riputazione ad uno di loro, e lo fanno Principe, per poter sotto l’ombra sua sfogare l’appetito loro. Il popolo ancora volta la riputazione ad un solo, vedendo non poter resistere alli grandi, e lo fa Principe, per essere con l’autorità sua difeso. Colui che viene al Principato con l’aiuto de’ grandi, si mantiene con più difficultà, che quello che diventa con l’aiuto del popolo; perchè si trova Principe con di molti intorno che a loro pare essere eguali a lui; e per questo non gli può nè comandare, nè maneggiare a suo modo. Ma colui che arriva al Principato con il favor popolare, vi si trova solo, e ha intorno o nessuno o pochissimi che non sieno parati ad ubbidire. Oltre a questo, non si può con onestà satisfare a’ grandi, e senza ingiuria d’altri, ma sibbene al popolo; perchè quello del popolo è più onesto fine che quel de’ grandi, volendo questi opprimere, e quello non essere oppresso. Aggiungesi ancora, che del popolo nimico il Principe non si può mai assicurare per essere troppi; de’ grandi si può assicurare per essere pochi.

Il peggio che possa aspettare un Principe dal popolo nimico, è l’essere abbandonato da lui; ma da’ grandi nimici non solo debbe temere di essere abbandonato, ma che ancor loro gli venghino contro; perchè essendo in quelli più vedere e più astuzia, avanzano sempre tempo per salvarsi, e cercano gradi con quello che sperano che vinca. È necessitato ancora il Principe vivere sempre con quel medesimo popolo, ma può ben fare senza quelli medesimi grandi, potendo farne e disfarne ogni dì, e torre e dare, quando gli piace, riputazione loro. E per chiarire meglio questa parte, dico, come i grandi si debbono considerare in duoi modi principalmente, cioè o si governano in modo col procedere loro, che si obbligano in tutto alla tua fortuna, o no; quelli che si obbligano, e non sieno rapaci, si debbono onorare ed amare; quelli che non si obbligano, si hanno a considerare in duoi modi: o fanno questo per pusillanimità e difetto naturale d’animo, ed allora ti debbi servir di loro, e di quelli massime che sono di buon consiglio; perchè nelle prosperità te ne onori, e nelle avversità non hai da temere. Ma quando non si obbligano ad arte, e per cagione ambiziosa, è segno come e’ pensano più a sè, che a te. E da quelli si deve il Principe guardare, e tenergli come se fussero scoperti nimici, perchè sempre nelle avversità l’aiuteranno rovinare. Debbe pertanto uno che diventa Principe per favore del popolo, mantenerselo amico; il che gli fia facile, non domandando lui se non di non essere oppresso. Ma uno che contro il popolo diventi Principe con il favor de’ grandi, deve innanzi ogni altra cosa cercare di guadagnarsi il popolo; il che gli fia facile, quando pigli la protezione sua. E perchè gli uomini, quando hanno bene da chi credevano aver male, si obbligano più al beneficatore loro, diventa il popolo suddito più suo benevolo, che se si fusse condotto al Principato per li suoi favori; e puosselo il Principe guadagnare in molti modi, li quali perchè variano secondo il suggetto, non se ne può dare certa regola; però si lasceranno indietro.

Conchiuderò solo che ad un Principe è necessario avere il popolo amico, altrimenti non ha nelle avversità rimedio. Nabide Principe degli Spartani sostenne l’ossidione di tutta Grecia e di uno esercito Romano vittoriosissimo, e difese contro a quelli la patria sua e il suo Stato, e gli bastò solo, sopravvenendo il pericolo, assicurarsi di pochi. Che se egli avessi avuto il popolo nemico, questo non gli bastava. E non sia alcuno che ripugni a questa mia opinione con quel proverbio trito, che chi fonda in sul populo fonda in sul fango; perchè quello è vero, quando un cittadino privato vi fa su fondamento, e dassi ad intendere che il popolo lo liberi quando esso fusse oppresso dagl’inimici, o da’ magistrati; in questo caso si potrebbe trovare spesso ingannato, come intervenne in Roma a’ Gracchi, ed a Firenze a Messer Giorgio Scali. Ma essendo un Principe quello che sopra vi si fonda, che possa comandare, e sia un uomo di cuore, nè si sbigottisca nelle avversità, e non manchi delle altre preparazioni, e tenga con l’animo e ordini suoi animato l’universale, non si troverà ingannato da lui, e gli parrà aver fatti i suoi fondamenti buoni. Sogliono questi Principati periclitare quando sono per salire dall’ordine civile allo assoluto: perchè questi Principi o comandano per loro medesimi, o per mezzo de’ magistrati. Nell’ultimo caso è più debole e più pericoloso lo Stato loro, perchè egli stanno al tutto con la volontà di quelli cittadini che sono preposti a’ magistrati, li quali, massimamente ne’ tempi avversi, gli possono torre con facilità grande lo Stato o con fargli contro, o col non l’ubbidire; e il Principe non è a tempo ne’ pericoli a pigliare l’autorità assoluta, perchè li cittadini, e sudditi, che sogliono avere li comandamenti da’ magistrati, non sono in quelli frangenti per ubbidire a’ suoi, e arà sempre ne’ tempi dubbi penuria di chi si possa fidare. Perchè simil Principe non può fondarsi sopra quello che vede ne’ tempi quieti, quando i cittadini hanno bisogno dello Stato; perchè allora ognuno corre, ognuno promette, e ciascuno vuole morire per lui quando la morte è discosto; ma ne’ tempi avversi, quando lo Stato ha bisogno de’ cittadini, allora se ne trova pochi. E tanto più è questa esperienza pericolosa, quanto la non si può fare se non una volta. Però uno Principe savio deve pensare un modo, per il quale li suoi cittadini sempre, ed in ogni modo e qualità di tempo, abbino bisogno dello Stato di lui, e sempre poi gli saranno fedeli.

CAPITOLO X. In che modo le forze di tutti i Principati si debbino misurare.

Conviene avere, nell’esaminare le qualità di questi Principati, un’altra considerazione; cioè se un Principe ha tanto Stato, che possa, bisognando, per sè medesimo reggersi, ovvero se ha sempre necessità della defensione d’altri. E, per chiarire meglio questa parte, dico, come io giudico potersi coloro reggere per sè medesimi, che possono o per abbondanzia d’uomini, o di danari, mettere insieme un esercito giusto, e fare una giornata con qualunque li viene ad assaltare; e così giudico coloro aver sempre necessità d’altri, che non possono comparire contro gli inimici in campagna, ma sono necessitati rifuggirsi dentro alle mura, e guardare quelle. Nel primo caso si è discorso; e per l’avvenire diremo quello che ne occorre. Nel secondo caso non si può dire altro, salvo che confortare tali Principi a munire e fortificare la terra propria, e del paese non tenere alcun conto. E qualunque arà bene fortificata la sua terra, e circa gli altri governi con i sudditi si sia maneggiato, come di sopra è detto, e di sotto si dirà, sarà sempre assaltato con gran rispetto; perchè gli uomini sono sempre nimici delle imprese, dove si vegga difficultà; nè si può vedere facilità assaltando uno che abbia la sua terra gagliarda, e non sia odiato dal popolo.

Le città d’Alemagna sono liberissime, hanno poco contado, ed ubbidiscono all’Imperadore quando le vogliono, e non temono nè questo, nè altro potente che l’abbino intorno, perchè le sono in modo fortificate, che ciascuno pensa la espugnazione di esse dovere essere tediosa e difficile, perchè tutte hanno fossi e mura convenienti, hanno artiglieria a sufficienza, e tengono sempre nelle canove pubbliche da mangiare e da bere, e da ardere per un anno. Ed oltre a questo, per potere tenere la plebe pasciuta, e senza perdita del pubblico, hanno sempre in comune per un anno da poter dar loro da lavorare in quelli esercizi che siano il nervo e la vita di quella città, e dell’industria de’ quali la plebe si pasca; tengono ancora gli esercizi militari in riputazione, e sopra questo hanno molti ordini a mantenerli. Un Principe adunque che abbia una città forte, e non si facci odiare, non può essere assaltato; e se pur fusse chi lo assaltasse, se ne partirebbe con vergogna; perchè le cose del mondo sono sì varie, che egli è quasi impossibile che uno possa con gli eserciti stare un anno ozioso, e campeggiarlo. E chi replicasse, se il popolo arà le sue possessioni fuora, e veggale ardere, non arà pazienza; e il lungo assedio e la carità propria gli farà dimenticare il Principe; rispondo che un Principe potente ed animoso supererà sempre quelle difficultà, dando ora speranza a’ sudditi che il male non sia lungo, ora timore

43

della crudeltà del nimico, ora assicurandosi con destrezza di quelli che gli paressono troppo arditi.

Oltre a questo il nimico debbe ragionevolmente ardere e rovinare il paese loro in su la giunta sua, e ne’ tempi quando gli animi degli uomini sono ancora caldi, e volenterosi alla difesa; e però tanto meno il Principe debbe dubitare, perchè dopo qualche giorno che gli animi sono raffredditi, sono di già fatti i danni, sono ricevuti i mali, e non vi è più rimedio; ed allora tanto più si vengono ad unire col loro Principe, parendo che esso abbia con loro obligo, essendo state loro arse le case, e rovinate le possessioni per la difesa sua. E la natura degli uomini è, così obligarsi per li beneficii che essi fanno, come per quelli che essi ricevono. Onde se si considera bene tutto, non fia difficile a un Principe prudente tenere prima e poi fermi gli animi de’ suoi cittadini nella ossidione, quando non gli manchi da vivere, nè da difendersi.

CAPITOLO XI. De’ Principati Ecclesiastici.

Restaci solamente al presente a ragionare de’ Principati Ecclesiastici, circa i quali tutte le difficultà sono avanti che si possegghino; perchè si acquistano o per virtù o per fortuna, e senza l’una e l’altra si mantengono; perchè sono sostentati dagli ordini anticati nella Religione, quali sono tutti potenti, e di qualità, che tengono i loro Principi in istato in qualunque modo si procedino e vivino. Costoro soli hanno Stati e non gli difendono, hanno sudditi e non gli governano; e gli Stati, per essere indifesi, non sono loro tolti; e li sudditi, per non essere governati, non se ne curano, nè pensano nè possono alienarsi da loro. Solo adunque questi Principati sono sicuri e felici. Ma essendo quelli retti da cagioni superiori, alle quali la mente umana non aggiugne, lascerò il parlarne, perchè essendo esaltati e mantenuti da Dio, sarebbe ufficio d’uomo presuntuoso e temerario il discorrerne. Nondimanco se alcuno mi ricerca donde viene che la Chiesa nel temporale sia venuta a tanta grandezza, conciossiachè da Alessandro indietro i potentati Italiani, e non solamente quelli che si chiamano potentati, ma ogni Barone e Signore, benchè minimo, quanto al temporale, la stimava poco; e ora un Re di Francia ne trema, e l’ha potuto cavare d’Italia, e rovinare i Viniziani; ancorachè ciò noto sia, non mi pare superfluo ridurlo in qualche parte alla memoria.

Avanti che Carlo Re di Francia passasse in Italia, era questa provincia sotto l’imperio del Papa, Viniziani, Re di Napoli, Duca di Milano, e Fiorentini. Questi Potentati avevano ad avere due cure principali: l’una, che un forestiero non entrasse in Italia con l’armi; l’altra, che nessuno di loro occupasse più stato. Quelli, a chi s’aveva più cura, erano il Papa e Viniziani. Ed a tenere addietro i Viniziani, bisognava l’unione di tutti gli altri, come fu nella difesa di Ferrara; e a tenere basso il Papa si servivano de’ Baroni di Roma, li quali essendo divisi in due fazioni, Orsini e Colonnesi, sempre v’era cagione di scandoli tra loro, e stando con l’armi in mano in su gli occhi del Pontefice, tenevano il Pontificato debole ed infermo. E benchè surgesse qualche volta un Papa animoso, come fu Sisto; pure la fortuna o il sapere non lo potè mai disobbligare da queste incomodità. E la brevità della vita loro ne era cagione, perchè in dieci anni che ragguagliato viveva un Papa, a fatica che potesse abbassare l’una delle fazioni; e, se per modo di parlare, l’uno aveva quasi spenti i Colonnesi, surgeva un altro nimico agli Orsini, che gli faceva risurgere, e non era a tempo a spegnerli. Questo faceva che le forze temporali del Papa erano poco stimate in Italia. Surse dipoi Alessandro VI, il quale di tutti li Pontefici che sono stati mai, mostrò quanto un Papa e con il danaio, e con le forze si poteva prevalere; e fece con l’istrumento del Duca Valentino, e con la occasione della passata de’ Francesi tutte quelle cose, che io ho discorso di sopra nelle azioni del Duca. E benchè l’intento suo non fusse di far grande la Chiesa, ma il Duca; nondimeno ciò che fece, tornò a grandezza della Chiesa, la quale dopo la sua morte, spento il Duca, fu erede delle fatiche sue.

Venne dipoi Papa Iulio, e trovò la Chiesa grande, avendo tutta la Romagna, ed essendo spenti tutti li Baroni di Roma, e per le battiture d’Alessandro annullate quelle fazioni; e trovò ancora la via aperta al modo dell’accumulare danari, non mai più usitato da Alessandro indietro. Le quali cose Iulio non solamente seguitò, ma accrebbe, e pensò guadagnarsi Bologna, e spegnere i Viniziani, e cacciare i Francesi d’Italia; e tutte queste imprese gli riuscirono, e con tanta più sua laude, quanto fece ogni cosa per accrescere la Chiesa, e non alcun privato. Mantenne ancora le parti Orsine e Colonnesi in quelli termini che le trovò; e benchè tra loro fusse qualche capo da fare alterazione, nientedimeno due cose gli ha tenuti fermi: l’una, la grandezza della Chiesa che gli sbigottisce; l’altra, il non avere loro Cardinali, quali sono origine di tumulti tra loro; nè mai staranno quiete queste parti qualunque volta abbino Cardinali, perchè questi nutriscono in Roma e fuori le parti, e quelli Baroni sono forzati a difenderle; e così dall’ambizione de’ Prelati nascono le discordie e tumulti tra’ Baroni. Ha trovato adunque la Santità di Papa Leone questo Pontificato potentissimo, del quale si spera che se quelli lo fecero grande con l’armi, esso con la bontà ed infinite altre sue virtù lo farà grandissimo e venerando.

CAPITOLO XII. Quante siano le spezie della milizia, e de’ soldati mercenari.

Avendo discorso particolarmente tutte le qualità di quelli Principati, de’ quali nel principio proposi di ragionare, e considerato in qualche parte le cagioni del bene e del male essere loro, e mostro i modi con li quali molti hanno cerco d’acquistargli e tenergli; mi resta ora a discorrere generalmente le offese e difese, che in ciascuno dei prenominati possono accadere. Noi abbiamo detto di sopra come ad un Principe è necessario avere li suoi fondamenti buoni; altrimente di necessità conviene che rovini. I principali fondamenti che abbino tutti gli Stati, così nuovi come vecchi o misti, sono le buone leggi e le buone armi; e perchè non possono essere buone leggi dove non sono buone armi, e, dove sono buone armi conviene che siano buone leggi; io lascerò indietro il ragionare delle leggi, e parlerò dell’armi. Dico adunque, che l’armi, con le quali un Principe difende il suo Stato, o le sono proprie, o le sono mercenarie, o ausiliarie, o miste. Le mercenarie ed ausiliari sono inutili e pericolose; e se uno tiene lo Stato suo fondato in su l’armi mercenarie, non starà mai fermo nè sicuro, perchè le sono disunite, ambiziose, e senza disciplina, infedeli, gagliarde tra gli amici, tra li nimici vili, non hanno timore di Dio, non fede con gli uomini, e tanto si differisce la rovina, quanto si differisce l’assalto; e nella pace siei spogliato da loro, nella guerra da’ nimici.

La cagione di questo è, che non hanno altro amore, nè altra cagione che le tenga in campo, che un poco di stipendio, il quale non è sufficiente a fare che e’ voglino morire per te. Vogliono bene essere tuoi soldati mentre che tu non fai guerra; ma come la guerra viene, o fuggirsi o andarsene. La qual cosa dovrei durar poca fatica a persuadere, perchè la rovina d’Italia non è ora causata da altra cosa, che per essere in spazio di molti anni riposatasi in sull’armi mercenarie, le quali feciono già per qualcuno qualche progresso, e parevano gagliarde tra loro; ma come venne il forestiero, elle mostrarono quello che l’erano. Onde è che a Carlo Re di Francia fu lecito pigliare Italia col gesto; e chi diceva che ne erano cagione i peccati nostri, diceva il vero; ma non erano già quelli che credeva, ma questi ch’io ho narrato. E perchè gli erano peccati di Principi, ne hanno patita la pena ancora loro. Io voglio dimostrare meglio la infelicità di queste armi.

I capitani mercenari o sono uomini eccellenti, o no; se sono, non te ne puoi fidare, perchè sempre aspirano alla grandezza propria o con l’opprimere te, che li siei padrone, o con l’opprimere altri fuora della tua intenzione; ma se non è il capitano virtuoso, ti rovina per l’ordinario. E se si risponde, che qualunque arà l’arme in mano, farà questo medesimo, o mercenario o no; replicherei, come l’armi hanno ad essere adoperate o da un Principe, o da una Repubblica; il Principe deve andare in persona, e fare lui l’ufficio del capitano; la Repubblica ha da mandare i suoi cittadini; e quando ne manda uno che non riesca valente, debbe cambiarlo; e quando sia, tenerlo con le leggi che non passi il segno. E per esperienza si vede i Principi soli, e le Repubbliche armate fare progressi grandissimi, e l’armi mercenarie non fare mai se non danno; e con più difficultà viene all’ubbidienza di un suo cittadino una Repubblica armata di armi proprie, che un’armata d’armi forestiere. Sterono Roma e Sparta molti secoli armate e libere. I Svizzeri sono armatissimi e liberissimi. Dell’armi mercenarie antiche, per esempio, ci sono li Cartaginesi, li quali furono per essere oppressi da loro soldati mercenari, finita la prima guerra co’ Romani, ancorachè i Cartaginesi avessero per capitani propri cittadini. Filippo Macedone fu fatto da’ Tebani, dopo la morte di Epaminonda, capitano della loro gente, e tolse loro, dopo la vittoria, la libertà. I Milanesi, morto il Duca Filippo, soldarono Francesco Sforza contro a’ Veniziani; il quale, superati li nimici a Caravaggio, si congiunse con loro per opprimere i Milanesi suoi padroni. Sforza suo padre, essendo soldato della Regina Giovanna di Napoli, la lasciò in un tratto disarmata, onde ella, per non perdere il Regno, fu costretta gettarsi in grembo al Re d’Aragona. E se i Viniziani e Fiorentini hanno accresciuto per l’addietro lo imperio loro con queste armi, e li loro capitani non se ne sono però fatti Principi, ma gli hanno difesi; rispondo, che gli Fiorentini in questo caso sono stati favoriti dalla sorte; perchè de’ capitani virtuosi, i quali potevano temere, alcuni non hanno vinto, alcuni hanno avuto opposizioni, altri hanno volto l’ambizione loro altrove. Quello che non vinse fu Giovanni Acuto, del quale, non vincendo, non si potea cognoscere la fede; ma ognuno confesserà, che, vincendo, stavano i Fiorentini a sua discrezione. Sforza ebbe sempre i Bracceschi contrari, che guardrono l’uno l’altro. Francesco volse l’ambizione sua in Lombardia. Braccio contro la Chiesa e il Regno di Napoli. Ma vegniamo a quello che è seguito poco tempo fa.

Feciono i Fiorentini Paolo Vitelli loro capitano, uomo prudentissimo, e che di privata fortuna aveva presa riputazione grandissima. Se costui espugnava Pisa, veruno fia che nieghi come e’ conveniva a’ Fiorentini stare seco; perchè, se fusse diventato soldato de’ loro nemici, non avevano rimedio, e tenendolo, aveano ad ubbidirlo. I Viniziani, se si considera i progressi loro, si vedrà quelli sicuramente e gloriosamente avere operato, mentrechè feciono guerra loro propri, che fu avanti che si volgessino con l’imprese in terra, dove con li gentiluomini e con la plebe armata operarono virtuosamente; ma come cominciarono a combattere in terra, lasciarono questa virtù, e seguitarono i costumi d’Italia. E nel principio dell’augumento loro in terra, per non avere molto stato, e per essere in gran riputazione, non avevano da temere molto de’ loro capitani; ma come essi ampliarono, che fu sotto il Carmignuola, ebbono un saggio di questo errore; perchè, vedutolo virtuosissimo, battuto che ebbero sotto il suo governo il Duca di Milano, e cognoscendo dall’altra parte, come egli era freddo nella guerra, giudicarono non potere più vincere con lui, perchè non volevano, nè poteano licenziarlo, per non perdere ciò che avevano acquistato, ondechè furono necessitati, per assicurarsi, di ammazzarlo.

Hanno dipoi avuto per loro capitani Bartolommeo da Bergamo, Ruberto da S. Severino, il Conte di Pitigliano, e simili, con li quali avevano da temere della perdita, non del guadagno loro; come intervenne dipoi a Vailà, dove in una giornata perderono quello che in ottocento anni con tante fatiche avevano acquistato; perchè da queste armi nascono solo i lenti, tardi e deboli acquisti, e le subite e miracolose perdite. E perchè io sono venuto con questi esempi in Italia, la quale è stata governata già molti anni dall’armi mercenarie, le voglio discorrere più da alto; acciocchè veduta l’origine e progressi di esse, si possano meglio correggere. Avete da intendere come, tostochè in questi ultimi tempi, l’Imperio cominciò ad essere ributtato d’Italia, e che il Papa nel temporale vi prese più riputazione, si divise l’Italia in più Stati; perchè molte delle città grosse presono l’armi contro i loro nobili, li quali prima, favoriti dall’Imperadore, le tenevano oppresse, e la Chiesa le favoriva per darsi riputazione nel temporale; di molte altre i loro cittadini ne diventarono Principi. Ondechè, essendo venuta l’Italia quasi in mano della Chiesa, e di qualche Repubblica; ed essendo quelli Preti e quelli altri cittadini usi a non cognoscere l’armi, incominciarono a soldare forestieri. Il primo che dette riputazione a questa milizia, fu Alberigo da Como Romagnuolo. Dalla disciplina di costui discese, tra gli altri, Braccio e Sforza, che ne’ loro tempi furono arbitri d’Italia.

Dopo questi vennero tutti gli altri, che fino a’ nostri tempi hanno governato l’armi d’Italia; ed il fine delle lor virtù è stato, che quella è stata corsa da Carlo, predata da Luigi, forzata da Ferrando, e vituperata da’ Svizzeri. L’ordine che loro hanno tenuto, è stato, prima per dare riputazione a loro propri, aver tolto riputazione alle fanterie. Feciono questo, perchè essendo senza Stato, e in su la industria, i pochi fanti non davano loro riputazione, e li assai non potevano nutrire; e però si ridussero a’ cavalli, dove con numero sopportabile erano nutriti e onorati; ed erano le cose ridotte in termine, che in un esercito di ventimila soldati non si trovavano duemila fanti. Avevano, oltre a questo, usato ogni industria per levar via a sè, e a’ soldati la fatica e la paura, non s’ammazzando nelle zuffe, ma pigliandosi prigioni e senza taglia. Non traevano di notte alle terre, quelli delle terre non traevano di notte alle tende, non facevano intorno al campo nè steccato nè fossa, non campeggiavano il verno. E tutte queste cose erano permesse ne’ loro ordini militari, e trovate da loro per fuggire, come è detto, e la fatica ed i pericoli; tantochè essi hanno condotta Italia schiava e vituperata.

CAPITOLO XIII. De’ soldati ausiliari, misti, e propri.

L’armi ausiliarie, che sono le altre armi inutili, sono quando si chiama un potente, che con l’armi sue ti venga ad aiutare e difendere, come fece ne’ prossimi tempi Papa Iulio, il quale avendo visto nell’impresa di Ferrara la trista prova delle sue armi mercenarie, si volse alle ausiliari, e convenne con Ferrando Re di Spagna, che con le sue genti ed eserciti dovesse aiutarlo. Queste armi possono essere utili e buone per loro medesime, ma sono per chi le chiama sempre dannose; perchè perdendo rimani disfatto, vincendo resti loro prigione. E ancora che di questi esempi ne sieno piene l’antiche istorie; nondimanco io non mi voglio partire da questo esempio di Papa Iulio II, quale è ancora fresco, il partito del quale non potè essere manco considerato, per volere Ferrara, mettendosi tutto nelle mani d’uno forestiere. Ma la sua buona fortuna fece nascere una terza causa, acciò non cogliesse il frutto della sua mala elezione; perchè, essendo gli ausiliari suoi rotti a Ravenna, e surgendo gli Svizzeri che cacciarono i vincitori fuora d’ogni opinione e sua, e d’altri, venne a non rimanere prigione degli inimici, essendo fugati, nè degli ausiliari suoi, avendo vinto con altre armi, che con le loro.

I Fiorentini essendo al tutto disarmati condussero diecimila Francesi a Pisa per espugnarla; per il qual partito portarono più pericolo che in qualunque tempo de’ travagli loro. Lo Imperadore di Costantinopoli, per opporsi alli suoi vicini, mise in Grecia diecimila Turchi, li quali, finita la guerra, non se ne volsero partire; il che fu principio della servitù della Grecia con gl’infedeli. Colui adunque che vuole non poter vincere, si vaglia di queste armi, perchè sono molto più pericolose, che le mercenarie; perchè in queste è la rovina fatta, sono tutte unite, tutte volte all’obbedienza di altri; ma nelle mercenarie, ad offenderti, vinto che elle hanno, bisogna più tempo, e maggiore occasione, non essendo tutte un corpo, ed essendo trovate e pagate da te, nelle quali un terzo che tu facci capo, non può pigliare subito tanta autorità che ti offenda. Insomma nelle mercenarie è più pericolosa la ignavia, nelle ausiliarie la virtù. Un Principe pertanto savio sempre ha fuggito queste arme, e voltosi alle proprie, e ha voluto piuttosto perdere con le sue, che vincere con l’altrui, giudicando non vera vittoria quella che con l’armi d’altri si acquistasse. Io non dubiterò mai di allegare Cesare Borgia, e le sue azioni.

Questo Duca entrò in Romagna con le armi ausiliarie, conducendovi tutte genti Francesi, e con quelle prese Imola e Furlì; ma, non li parendo poi tali arme sicure, si volse alle mercenarie, giudicando in quelle manco pericolo, e soldò gli Orsini e Vitelli; le quali poi nel maneggiare trovando dubbie, infedeli, e pericolose, le spense e volsesi alle proprie. E puossi facilmente vedere che differenza sia tra l’una e l’altra di queste armi, considerato che differenza fu dalla riputazione del Duca quando aveva gli Orsini e Vitelli, e quando rimase con gli soldati suoi, e sopra di sè stesso, e si troverà sempre accresciuta; nè mai fu stimato assai, se non quando ciascuno vide che egli era intero possessore delle sue armi. Io non mi volevo partire dagli esempi Italiani e freschi: pure non voglio lasciare indietro Ierone Siracusano, essendo uno de’ sopra nominati da me. Costui, come di già dissi, fatto dalli Siracusani capo degli eserciti, cognobbe subito quella milizia mercenaria non essere utile, per essere conduttori fatti come li nostri Italiani, e parendoli non gli potere tenere nè lasciare, gli fece tutti tagliare a pezzi; dipoi fece guerra con l’armi sue, e non con l’altrui. Voglio ancora ridurre a memoria una figura del Testamento Vecchio fatta a questo proposito.

Offerendosi David a Saul di andare a combattere con Golia provocatore Filisteo, Saul, per dargli animo, l’armò dell’armi sue, le quali come David ebbe indosso, ricusò, dicendo, con quelle non si potere ben valere di sè stesso; e però voleva trovare il nimico con la sua fromba, e con il suo coltello. In somma l’armi d’altri o le ti cascono di dosso, o elle ti pesano, e le ti stringono. Carlo VII padre del Re Luigi XI avendo con la sua fortuna e virtù libera la Francia dagl’Inglesi, cognobbe questa necessità di armarsi d’armi proprie, e ordinò nel suo regno l’ordinanza delle genti di arme e delle fanterie. Dipoi il Re Luigi suo figliuolo spense quella de’ fanti, e cominciò a soldare Svizzeri; il quale errore seguitato dagli altri, è, come si vede ora in fatto, cagione de’ pericoli di quel Regno. Perchè, avendo dato riputazione a’ Svizzeri, ha invilito tutte l’armi sue, perchè le fanterie ha spento in tutto, e le sue genti d’arme ha obbligate all’arme d’altri, perchè essendo assuefatti a militare con Svizzeri, non pare loro di poter vincere senza essi.

Di qui nasce, che gli Francesi contro a’ Svizzeri non bastano, e senza i Svizzeri contro ad altri non provano. Sono adunque stati gli eserciti di Francia misti, parte mercenari, e parte propri; le quali armi e tutte insieme sono molto migliori, che le semplici mercenarie, o le semplici ausiliarie, e molto inferiori alle proprie. E basti l’esempio detto, perchè il Regno di Francia sarebbe insuperabile, se l’ordine di Carlo era accresciuto, o preservato. Ma la poca prudenza degli uomini comincia una cosa, che per sapere allora di buono non manifesta il veleno che v’è sotto, come io dissi di sopra delle febbri etiche. Pertanto se colui che è in un Principato, non cognosce i mali se non quando che nascono, non è veramente savio; e questo è dato a pochi. E se si considerasse la prima rovina dell’Imperio Romano, si troverà essere stato solo il cominciare a soldare i Goti; perchè da quel principio cominciarono ad enervare le forze dell’Imperio Romano; e tutta quella virtù, che si levava da lui, si dava a loro. Conchiudo adunque, che, senza avere arme proprie, nessuno Principato è sicuro; anzi tutto obligato alla fortuna, non avendo virtù che nell’avversità lo difenda. E fu sempre opinione e sentenzia degli uomini savi, che niente sia così infermo ed instabile, come è la fama della potenza non fondata nelle forze proprie. E l’arme proprie sono quelle che sono composte di sudditi o di cittadini, o di creati tuoi; tutte l’altre sono o mercenarie, o ausiliari. E il modo ad ordinare l’arme proprie sarà facile a trovare, se si discorreranno gli ordini sopra nominati da me; e se si vedrà come Filippo, padre di Alessandro Magno, e come molte Repubbliche e Principi si sono armati ed ordinati; a’ quali ordini io mi rimetto al tutto.

CAPITOLO XIV. Quello che al Principe si appartenga circa la milizia.

Deve adunque un Principe non avere altro oggetto, nè altro pensiero, nè prendere cosa alcuna per sua arte, fuori della guerra, ed ordini e disciplina di essa; perchè quella è sola arte che si aspetta a chi comanda; ed è di tanta virtù, che non solo mantiene quelli che sono nati Principi, ma molte volte fa gli uomini di privata fortuna salire a quel grado. E per contrario si vede, che quando i Principi hanno pensato più alle delicatezze, che all’arme, hanno perso lo Stato loro. E la prima cagione che ti fa perdere quello, è il disprezzare questa arte; e la cagione che te lo fa acquistare, è l’essere professo di questa arte. Francesco Sforza, per essere armato, diventò di privato Duca di Milano; e li figliuoli, per fuggire le fatiche e i disagi dell’arme, di Duchi diventarono privati. Perchè tra le altre cagioni di male, che ti arreca l’essere disarmato, ti fa disprezzare; la quale è una di quelle infamie, dalle quali il Principe si debbe guardare, come di sotto si dirà. Perchè da uno armato a un disarmato non è proporzione alcuna; e la ragione non vuole che chi è armato ubbidisca volentieri a chi è disarmato, e che il disarmato stia sicuro tra i servitori armati. Perchè essendo nell’uno sdegno, e nell’altro sospetto, non è possibile operino bene insieme. E però un Principe che della milizia non s’intende, oltre all’altre infelicità, come è detto, non può essere stimato da’ suoi soldati, nè fidarsi di loro.

Non debbe pertanto mai levare il pensiero da questo esercizio della guerra, e nella pace vi si deve più esercitare, che nella guerra; il che può fare in due modi, l’uno con l’opere, l’altro con la mente. E quanto all’opere, deve, oltre al tener bene ordinati ed esercitati li suoi, star sempre in sulle caccie, e mediante quelle assuefare il corpo a’ disagi, e parte imparare la natura de’ siti, e cognoscere come sorgono i monti, come imboccano le valli, come giacciono i piani, ed intendere la natura de’ fiumi e delle paludi; ed in questo porre grandissima cura. La qual cognizione è utile in duoi modi. Prima si impara a cognoscere il suo paese, e può meglio intendere le difese di esso. Dipoi, mediante la cognizione e pratica di quelli siti, con facilità comprende un altro sito, che di nuovo gli sia necessario speculare; perchè li poggi, le valli, e piani, e fiumi, e paludi che sono, verbigrazia, in Toscana, hanno con quelle dell’altre provincie certa similitudine; tale che dalla cognizione del sito di una provincia, si può facilmente venire alla cognizione dell’altre. E quel Principe che manca di questa perizia, manca della prima parte che vuole avere un capitano; perchè questa insegna trovar il nemico, pigliare gli alloggiamenti, condurre gli eserciti, ordinare le giornate, campeggiare le terre con tuo vantaggio.

 — Filopemene Principe degli Achei, tralle altre laudi, che dagli scrittori gli son date, è che ne’ tempi della pace non pensava mai se non a’ modi della guerra, e quando era in campagna con gli amici spesso si fermava e ragionava con quelli: se gli nimici fussero in su quel colle, e noi ci trovassimo qui col nostro esercito, chi di noi arebbe vantaggio? Come sicuramente si potrebbe ire a trovargli, servando gli ordini? Se noi volessimo ritirarci, come aremmo a fare? Se loro si ritirassero, come aremmo a seguirgli? E proponeva loro, andando, tutti i casi che in uno esercito possono occorrere, intendeva l’opinion loro, diceva la sua, corroboravala con le ragioni; talchè per queste continue cogitazioni non poteva mai, guidando gli eserciti, nascere accidente alcuno, che egli non vi avesse il rimedio. Ma, quanto all’esercizio della mente, deve il Principe leggere le istorie, ed in quelle considerare le azioni degli uomini eccellenti, vedere come si sono governati nelle guerre, esaminare le cagioni delle vittorie e perdite loro, per potere queste fuggire, quelle imitare; e sopra tutto fare come ha fatto per l’addietro qualche uomo eccellente, che ha preso ad imitare, se alcuno è stato innanzi a lui lodato e glorioso, e di quello che ha tenuto sempre i gesti ed azioni appresso di sè, come si dice che Alessandro Magno imitava Achille, Cesare Alessandro, Scipione Ciro. E qualunque legge la vita di Ciro scritta da Senofonte, riconosce dipoi nella vita di Scipione quanto quella imitazione gli fu di gloria, e quanto nella castità, affabilità, umanità, e liberalità Scipione si conformasse con quelle cose che di Ciro sono da Senofonte scritte. Questi simili modi deve osservare un Principe savio, nè mai ne’ tempi pacifici stare ozioso, ma con industria farne capitale, per potersene valere nelle avversità, acciocchè quando si muta la fortuna, lo trovi parato a resistere alli suoi colpi.

CAPITOLO XV. Delle cose, mediante le quali gli uomini, e massimamente i Principi, sono lodati o vituperati.

Resta ora a vedere quali debbano essere i modi e governi di un Principe con li sudditi e con gli amici. E perchè io so che molti di questo hanno scritto, dubito, scrivendone ancor io, non esser tenuto presontuoso, partendomi, massime nel disputare questa materia, dagli ordini degli altri. Ma essendo l’intento mio scrivere cosa utile a chi l’intende, mi è parso più conveniente andare dietro alla verità effettuale della cosa, che all’immaginazione di essa: e molti si sono immaginate Repubbliche e Principati, che non si sono mai visti nè cognosciuti essere in vero; perchè egli è tanto discosto da come si vive, a come si doveria vivere, che colui che lascia quello che si fa per quello che si doveria fare, impara piuttosto la rovina, che la preservazione sua; perchè un uomo che voglia fare in tutte le parti professione di buono, conviene che rovini fra tanti che non sono buoni. Onde è necessario ad un Principe, volendosi mantenere, imparare a potere essere non buono, ed usarlo e non usarlo secondo la necessità.

Lasciando adunque indietro le cose circa un Principe immaginate, e discorrendo quelle che son vere, dico, che tutti gli uomini, quando se ne parla, e massime i Principi, per esser posti più alto, sono notati di alcuna di queste qualità che arrecano loro o biasimo, o laude; e questo è che alcuno è tenuto liberale, alcuno misero, usando un termine Toscano, (perchè avaro in nostra lingua è ancor colui che per rapina desidera d’avere, e misero chiamiamo quello che troppo si astiene dall’usare il suo) alcuno è tenuto donatore, alcuno rapace; alcuno crudele, alcuno pietoso; l’uno fedífrago, l’altro fedele; l’uno effeminato e pusillanime, l’altro feroce ed animoso; l’uno umano, l’altro superbo; l’uno lascivo, l’altro casto; l’uno intero, l’altro astuto; l’uno duro, l’altro facile; l’uno grave, l’altro leggiere; l’uno religioso, l’altro incredulo, e simili. Io so che ciascuno confesserà, che sarebbe laudabilissima cosa un Principe trovarsi di tutte le sopraddette qualità, quelle che sono tenute buone; ma perchè non si possono avere, nè interamente osservare per le condizioni umane che non lo consentono, gli è necessario essere tanto prudente, che sappia fuggire l’infamia di quelli vizi che li torrebbono lo Stato, e da quelli che non gliene tolgano, guardarsi, se egli è possibile; ma non potendosi, si può con minor rispetto lasciare andare. Ed ancora non si curi d’incorrere nell’infamia di quelli vizi, senza i quali possa difficilmente salvare lo Stato; perchè, se si considera bene tutto, si troverà qualche cosa che parrà virtù, e seguendola sarebbe la rovina sua; e qualcun’altra che parrà vizio, e seguendola ne risulta la sicurtà, ed il ben essere suo.

CAPITOLO XVI. Della liberalità e miseria.

Cominciando adunque dalle prime soprascritte qualità, dico come sarebbe bene esser tenuto liberale. Nondimanco la liberalità usata in modo che tu non sia temuto, ti offende; perchè se la si usa virtuosamente e come la si deve usare, la non fia conosciuta, e non ti cadrà l’infamia del suo contrario. E però a volersi mantenere tra gli uomini il nome del liberale, è necessario non lasciare indietro alcuna qualità di sontuosità; talmentechè sempre un Principe così fatto consumerà in simili opere tutte le sue facultà, e sarà necessitato alla fine, se egli si vorrà mantenere nome del liberale, gravare i popoli straordinariamente, ed esser fiscale, e fare tutte quelle cose che si possono fare per avere danari. Il che comincerà a farlo odioso con li sudditi, e poco stimare da ciascuno, diventando povero; in modo che, avendo con questa sua liberalità offeso molti, e premiato pochi, sente ogni primo disagio, e periclita in qualunque primo pericolo; il che cognoscendo lui, e volendosene ritrarre, incorre subito nell’infamia del misero.

Un Principe adunque, non potendo usare questa virtù del liberale senza suo danno, in modo che la sia cognosciuta, deve, se egli è prudente, non si curare del nome del misero; perchè con il tempo sarà tenuto sempre più liberale. Veggendo che con la sua parsimonia le sue entrate gli bastano, può difendersi da chi gli fa guerra, può fare imprese senza gravare i popoli; talmentechè viene a usare la liberalità a tutti quelli, a chi non toglie, che sono infiniti, e miseria a tutti coloro, a chi non dà, che sono pochi. Ne’ nostri tempi noi non abbiamo veduto fare gran cose, se non a quelli che sono stati tenuti miseri, gli altri essere spenti. Papa Iulio II come si fu servito del nome di liberale per aggiugnere al Papato, non pensò più a mantenerselo per potere far guerra al Re di Francia; e ha fatto tante guerre senza porre un dazio strasordinario, perchè alle superflue spese ha somministrato la lunga sua parsimonia. Il Re di Spagna presente, se fusse tenuto liberale, non arebbe fatto, nè vinto tante imprese. Pertanto un Principe deve stimare poco, per non avere a rubare i sudditi, per poter difendersi, per non diventare povero ed abietto, per non essere forzato diventar rapace, d’incorrere nel nome di misero, perchè questo è uno di quelli vizi, che lo fanno regnare. E se alcun dicesse: Cesare con la liberalità pervenne all’Imperio; e molti altri, per essere stati ed esser tenuti liberali, sono venuti a gradi grandissimi; rispondo: o tu siei Principe fatto, o tu siei in via di acquistarlo. Nel primo caso questa liberalità è dannosa; nel secondo è ben necessario esser tenuto liberale, e Cesare era un di quelli che voleva pervenire al Principato di Roma; ma, se poichè vi fu venuto, fusse sopravvissuto, e non si fusse temperato da quelle spese, arebbe distrutto quell’Imperio. E se alcuno replicasse: molti sono stati Principi, e con gli eserciti hanno fatto gran cose, che sono stati tenuti liberalissimi; ti rispondo: o il Principe spende del suo e de’ suoi sudditi, o di quello d’altri. Nel primo caso deve esser parco, nel secondo non deve lasciare indietro parte alcuna di liberalità. E quel Principe che va con gli eserciti, che si pasce di prede, di sacchi, e di taglie, e maneggia quel d’altri, gli è necessaria questa liberalità; altrimenti non sarebbe seguíto da’ soldati. E di quello che non è tuo o de’ tuoi sudditi, si può essere più largo donatore, come fu Ciro, Cesare, e Alessandro; perchè lo spendere quel d’altri non toglie riputazione, ma te ne aggiugne; solamente lo spendere il tuo è quello che ti nuoce. E non ci è cosa che consumi sè stessa quanto la liberalità, la quale mentre che tu usi, perdi la facultà di usarla, e diventi o povero o vile, o, per fuggire la povertà, rapace e odioso. E tra tutte le cose, da che un Principe si debbe guardare, è l’essere disprezzato e odioso; e la liberalità all’una e l’altra di queste cose ti conduce. Pertanto è più sapienza tenersi il nome di misero, che partorisce una infamia senza odio, che, per volere il nome di liberale, incorrere per necessità nel nome di rapace, che partorisce una infamia con odio.

CAPITOLO XVII. Della crudeltà e clemenzia; e se egli è meglio essere amato, che temuto.

Discendendo appresso alle altre qualità preallegate, dico, che ciascuno Principe deve disiderare di essere tenuto pietoso, e non crudele. Nondimanco deve avvertire di non usar male questa pietà. Era tenuto Cesare Borgia crudele; nondimanco quella sua crudeltà aveva racconcia la Romagna, unitala, e ridottala in pace e in fede. Il che se si considera bene, si vedrà quello essere stato molto più pietoso, che il Popolo Fiorentino, il quale, per fuggire il nome di crudele, lasciò distruggere Pistoia. Deve pertanto un Principe non si curare dell’infamia di crudele, per tenere i sudditi suoi uniti, e in fede: perchè con pochissimi esempi sarai più pietoso, che quelli, li quali per troppa pietà lasciano seguire i disordini, onde naschino occisioni o rapine; perchè queste sogliono offendere una università intera; e quelle esecuzioni che vengono dal Principe, offendono un particolare. E tra tutti i Principi, al Principe nuovo è impossibile fuggire il nome di crudele, per essere gli Stati nuovi pieni di pericoli. Onde Virgilio, per la bocca di Didone, escusa l’inumanità del suo Regno, per essere quello nuovo, dicendo:

Res dura, et regni novitas me talia cogunt
Moliri, et late fines custode tueri.

Nondimeno deve esser grave a credere ed al muoversi, nè si deve far paura da sè stesso, e procedere in modo temperato con prudenza ed umanità, che la troppa confidenza non lo faccia incauto, e la troppa diffidanza non lo renda intollerabile. Nasce da questo una disputa: s’egli è meglio essere amato che temuto, o temuto che amato. Rispondesi, che si vorrebbe essere l’uno e l’altro; ma perchè egli è difficile, che e’ stiano insieme, è molto più sicuro l’esser temuto che amato, quando s’abbi a mancare dell’un de’ duoi. Perchè degli uomini si può dire questo generalmente, che sieno ingrati, volubili, simulatori, fuggitori de’ pericoli, cupidi di guadagno; e mentre fai loro bene sono tutti tuoi, ti offeriscono il sangue, la roba, la vita, ed i figliuoli, come di sopra dissi, quando il bisogno è discosto; ma, quando ti si appressa, si rivoltano. E quel Principe che si è tutto fondato in sulle parole loro, trovandosi nudo di altri preparamenti, rovina; perchè l’amicizie che si acquistano con il prezzo, e non con grandezza e nobiltà d’animo, si meritano, ma non le si hanno, e a’ tempi non si possono spendere. E gli uomini hanno men rispetto di offendere uno che si facci amare, che uno che si facci temere; perchè l’amore è tenuto da un vincolo di obbligo, il quale, per essere gli uomini tristi, da ogni occasione di propria utilità è rotto; ma il timore è tenuto da una paura di pena, che non abbandona mai. Deve nondimeno il Principe farsi temere in modo, che, se non acquista l’amore, e’ fugga l’odio, perchè può molto bene stare insieme esser temuto, e non odiato; il che farà, semprechè s’astenga dalla roba de’ suoi cittadini, e de’ suoi sudditi, e dalle donne loro. E quando pure gli bisognasse procedere contro al sangue di qualcuno, farlo quando vi sia giustificazione conveniente e causa manifesta; ma sopratutto astenersi dalla roba d’altri; perchè gli uomini dimenticano piuttosto la morte del padre, che la perdita del patrimonio.

Dipoi le cagioni del torre la roba non mancano mai; e sempre colui che comincia a vivere con rapina, trova cagioni d’occupare quel d’altri, e per avverso contro al sangue sono più rare e mancano più tosto. Ma quando il Principe è con gli eserciti, e ha in governo moltitudine di soldati, allora è al tutto necessario non si curare del nome di crudele: perchè senza questo nome non si tiene un esercito unito, nè disposto ad alcuna fazione. Tra le mirabili azioni di Annibale si connumera questa, che avendo un esercito grossissimo, misto d’infinite generazioni d’uomini, condotto a militare in terre d’altri, non vi surgesse mai una dissensione nè fra loro, nè contro il Principe, così nella trista, come nella sua buona fortuna. Il che non potè nascere da altro, che da quella sua inumana crudeltà, la quale insieme con infinite sue virtù lo fece sempre nel cospetto de’ suoi soldati venerando e terribile; e, senza quella, l’altre sue virtù a far quello effetto non gli bastavano. E gli scrittori poco considerati dall’una parte ammirano queste sue azioni, e dall’altra dannano la principale cagione di esse. E che sia vero che l’altre sue virtù non gli sarieno bastate, si può considerare in Scipione, rarissimo non solamente ne’ tempi suoi, ma in tutta la memoria delle cose che si sanno, dal quale gli eserciti suoi in Ispagna si ribellarono; il che non nacque da altro, che dalla sua troppa pietà, la quale aveva dato a’ suoi soldati più licenza, che alla disciplina militare non si conveniva. La qual cosa gli fu da Fabio Massimo nel Senato rimproverata, chiamandolo corruttore della Romana milizia. I Locrensi essendo stati da un legato di Scipione distrutti, non furono da lui vindicati, nè l’insolenza di quel legato corretta, nascendo tutto da quella sua natura facile. Talmentechè volendolo alcuno in Senato scusare, disse come egli erano molti uomini, che sapevano meglio non errare, che correggere gli errori d’altri. La qual natura arebbe con il tempo violato la fama e la gloria di Scipione, se egli avesse con essa perseverato nell’imperio; ma vivendo sotto il governo del Senato, questa sua qualità dannosa non solamente si nascose, ma gli fu a gloria. Conchiudo adunque, tornando all’esser temuto ed amato, che amando gli uomini a posta loro, e temendo a posta del Principe, deve un Principe savio fondarsi in su quello che è suo, non in su quello che è d’altri; e deve solamente ingegnarsi di fuggir l’odio, come è detto.

CAPITOLO XVIII. In che modo i Principi debbino osservare la fede.

Quanto sia laudabile in un Principe mantenere la fede, e vivere con integrità, e non con astuzia, ciascuno lo intende. Nondimeno si vede per esperienzia, ne’ nostri tempi, quelli Principi aver fatto gran cose, che della fede hanno tenuto poco conto, e che hanno saputo con astuzia aggirare i cervelli degli uomini, ed alla fine hanno superato quelli che si sono fondati in su la lealtà. Dovete adunque sapere come sono due generazioni di combattere: l’una con le leggi, l’altra con le forze. Quel primo è degli uomini; quel secondo è delle bestie; ma perchè il primo spesse volte non basta, bisogna ricorrere al secondo. Pertanto ad un Principe è necessario saper ben usare la bestia e l’uomo. Questa parte è stata insegnata a’ Principi copertamente dagli antichi scrittori, i quali scrivono come Achille e molti altri di quelli Principi antichi furono dati a nutrire a Chirone Centauro, che sotto la sua disciplina gli custodisse; il che non vuol dire altro l’avere per precettore un mezzo bestia e mezzo uomo, se non che bisogna a un Principe sapere usare l’una e l’altra natura, e l’una senza l’altra non è durabile. Essendo adunque un Principe necessitato sapere bene usare la bestia, debbe di quella pigliare la volpe e il lione; perchè il lione non si defende da’ lacci, la volpe non si defende da’ lupi. Bisogna adunque essere volpe a cognoscere i lacci, e lione a sbigottire i lupi. Coloro che stanno semplicemente in sul lione, non se ne intendono. Non può pertanto un Signore prudente, nè debbe osservare la fede, quando tale osservanzia gli torni contro, e che sono spente le cagioni che la feciono promettere. E se gli uomini fussero tutti buoni, questo precetto non saria buono; ma perchè sono tristi, e non l’osserverebbono a te, tu ancora non l’hai da osservare a loro. Nè mai a un Principe mancheranno cagioni legittime di colorare l’inosservanza.

Di questo se ne potriano dare infiniti esempi moderni, e mostrare quante paci, quante promesse siano state fatte irrite e vane per la infedeltà de’ Principi; e a quello che ha saputo meglio usare la volpe, è meglio successo. Ma è necessario questa natura saperla bene colorire, ed essere gran simulatore e dissimulatore; e sono tanto semplici gli uomini, e tanto ubbidiscono alle necessità presenti, che colui che inganna, troverà sempre chi si lascerà ingannare. Io non voglio degli esempi freschi tacerne uno. Alessandro VI non fece mai altro che ingannare uomini, nè mai pensò ad altro, e trovò soggetto di poterlo fare; e non fu mai uomo che avesse maggiore efficacia in asseverare, e che con maggiori giuramenti affermasse una cosa, e che l’osservasse meno; nondimanco gli succederono sempre gl’inganni, perchè cognosceva bene questa parte del mondo. Ad un Principe adunque non è necessario avere in fatto tutte le soprascritte qualità, ma è ben necessario parere d’averle. Anzi ardirò di dire questo, che avendole, ed osservandole sempre, sono dannose; e parendo d’averle, sono utili; come parere pietoso, fedele, umano, religioso, intero, ed essere; ma stare in modo edificato con l’animo, che bisognando, tu possa e sappi mutare il contrario. E hassi ad intendere questo, che un Principe, e massime un Principe nuovo, non può osservare tutte quelle cose, per le quali gli uomini sono tenuti buoni, essendo spesso necessitato, per mantenere lo Stato, operare contro alla umanità, contro alla carità, contro alla religione. E però bisogna che egli abbia un animo disposto a volgersi secondo che i venti e le variazioni della fortuna gli comandano; e, come di sopra dissi, non partirsi dal bene, potendo, ma sapere entrare nel male, necessitato.

Deve adunque avere un Principe gran cura, che non gli esca mai di bocca una cosa che non sia piena delle soprascritte cinque qualità, e paia, a vederlo e udirlo, tutto pietà, tutto integrità, tutto umanità, tutto religione. E non è cosa più necessaria a parere d’avere, che quest’ultima qualità; perchè gli uomini in universale giudicano più agli occhi che alle mani, perchè tocca a vedere a ciascuno, a sentire a’ pochi. Ognuno vede quel che tu pari; pochi sentono quel che tu sei, e quelli pochi non ardiscono opporsi alla opinione de’ molti, che abbiano la maesta dello stato che gli difende; e nelle azioni di tutti gli uomini, e massime de’ Principi, dove non è giudizio a chi reclamare, si guarda al fine. Facci adunque un Principe conto di vivere e mantenere lo Stato; i mezzi saranno sempre giudicati onorevoli, e da ciascuno lodati; perchè il vulgo ne va sempre preso con quello che pare, e con l’evento della cosa; e nel mondo non è se non vulgo; e gli pochi hanno luogo, quando gli assai non hanno dove appoggiarsi. Alcuno Principe di questi tempi, il quale non è bene nominare, non predica mai altro, che pace e fede; e l’una e l’altra, quando e’ l’avesse osservata, gli arebbe più volte tolto lo Stato, e la riputazione.

CAPITOLO XIX. Che si debbe fuggire l’essere disprezzato e odiato.

Ma perchè circa le qualità, di che di sopra si fa menzione, io ho parlato delle più importanti, l’altre voglio discorrere brevemente sotto queste generalità, che il Principe pensi, come di sopra in parte è detto, di fuggire quelle cose che lo faccino odioso o vile; e qualunque volta fuggirà questo, arà adempiuto le parti sue, e non troverà nell’altre infamie pericolo alcuno. Odioso lo fa soprattutto, come io dissi, lo esser rapace, ed usurpatore della roba, e delle donne de’ sudditi; di che si deve astenere. Qualunque volta alle università degli uomini non si toglie nè roba nè onore, vivono contenti, e solo s’ha a combattere con l’ambizione di pochi, la quale in molti modi e con facilità si raffrena. Abietto lo fa l’esser tenuto vario, leggiero, effeminato, pusillanimo, irresoluto; di che un Principe si deve guardare come da uno scoglio, ed ingegnarsi che nelle azioni sue si riconosca grandezza, animosità, gravità, fortezza; e, circa i maneggi privati de’ sudditi, volere che la sua sentenzia sia irrevocabile, e si mantenga in tale opinione, che alcuno non pensi nè ad ingannarlo, nè ad aggirarlo. Quel Principe che dà di sè questa opinione, è riputato assai; e contro a chi è riputato assai con difficultà si congiura, e con difficultà è assaltato, purchè si intenda che sia eccellente e reverito da’ suoi. Perchè un Principe deve avere due paure: una dentro per conto de’ sudditi; l’altra di fuori per conto de’ potenti esterni. Da questa si difende con le buone arme e buoni amici; e sempre, se arà buone arme, arà buoni amici; e sempre staranno ferme le cose di dentro, quando stieno ferme quelle di fuori, se già le non fossero perturbate da una congiura; e quando pure quelle di fuori movessero, se egli è ordinato, e vissuto come io ho detto, quando non si abbandoni, sosterrà ogni impeto, come dissi che fece Nabide Spartano. Ma circa i sudditi, quando le cose di fuori non muovino, s’ha a temere, che non congiurino segretamente; del che il Principe si assicura assai, fuggendo l’essere odiato e disprezzato, e tenendosi il popolo satisfatto di lui; il che è necessario conseguire, come di sopra si disse a lungo. Ed uno de’ più potenti rimedi che abbi un Principe contro le congiure, è non essere odiato o disprezzato dall’universale; perchè sempre chi congiura crede con la morte del Principe satisfare al popolo; ma quando ei creda offenderlo, non piglia animo a prendere simil partito; perchè le difficultà che sono dalla parte de’ congiuranti, sono infinite. Per esperienzia si vede molte essere state le congiure, e poche aver avuto buon fine; perchè chi congiura non può esser solo, nè può prendere compagnia, se non di quelli, che crede essere malcontenti; e subito che a uno malcontento tu hai scoperto l’animo tuo, gli dai materia a contentarsi, perchè, manifestandolo, lui ne può sperare ogni comodità; talmentechè veggendo il guadagno fermo da questa parte, e dall’altra veggendolo dubbio e pieno di pericolo, convien bene o che sia raro amico, o che sia al tutto ostinato nimico del Principe ad osservarti la fede. E, per ridurre la cosa in brevi termini, dico, che dalla parte del congiurante non è, se non paura, gelosia, sospetto di pena che lo sbigottisce; ma dalla parte del Principe è la maestà del Principato, le leggi, le difese degli amici e dello Stato che lo difendono; talmentechè aggiunto a tutte queste cose la benivolenza populare, è impossibile che alcun sia sì temerario, che congiuri. Perchè per l’ordinario dove uno congiurante ha a temere innanzi alla esecuzione del male, in questo caso debbe temere ancora dappoi, avendo per nimico il popolo, seguíto l’eccesso, nè potendo per questo sperare rifugio alcuno. Di questa materia se ne potria dare infiniti esempi; ma voglio solo esser contento d’uno, seguíto alla memoria de’ padri nostri.

Messer Annibale Bentivogli, avolo del presente Messer Annibale, che era Principe in Bologna, essendo da’ Canneschi, che gli congiurarono contro, ammazzato, nè rimanendo di lui altri che Messer Giovanni, quale era in fasce, subito dopo tale omicidio si levò il popolo, ed ammazzò tutti i Canneschi. Il che nacque dalla benivolenza popolare che la casa de’ Bentivogli aveva in quei tempi in Bologna; la qual fu tanta, che non vi restando alcuno che potesse, morto Annibale, reggere lo Stato, ed avendo indizio come in Firenze era un nato de’ Bentivogli, che si teneva fino allora figliuolo di un fabbro, vennero i Bolognesi per quello in Firenze, e li dettono il governo di quella città, la quale fu governata da lui fino a tanto che Messer Giovanni pervenisse in età conveniente al governo. Conchiudo adunque, che un Principe deve tenere delle congiure poco conto, quando il popolo gli sia benivolo; ma quando gli sia inimico, ed abbilo in odio, deve temere di ogni cosa e di ognuno. E gli stati bene ordinati, e li Principi savi hanno con ogni diligenza pensato di non far cadere in disperazione i grandi e di satisfare al popolo, e tenerlo contento, perchè questa è una delle più importanti materie che abbia un Principe. Tra i Regni bene ordinati e governati a’ nostri tempi è quello di Francia, ed in esso si trovano infinite costituzioni buone, donde ne dipende la libertà e sicurtà del Re, delle quali la prima è il Parlamento, e la sua autorità; perchè quello che ordinò quel Regno, cognoscendo l’ambizione de’ potenti e la insolenza loro, e giudicando esser necessario loro un freno in bocca che gli correggesse; e dall’altra parte cognoscendo l’odio dell’universale contro i grandi, fondato in su la paura, e volendo assicurarli, non volse che questa fusse particolar cura del Re, per torli quel carico che e’ potesse avere con i grandi, favorendo i popolari, e con i popolari, favorendo i grandi; e però constituì un giudice terzo, che fusse quello, che senza carico del Re, battesse i grandi, e favorisse i minori. Nè potè essere questo ordine migliore, nè più prudente, nè maggior cagione di sicurtà del Re, e del Regno. Di che si può trarre un altro notabile, che li Principi debbono le cose di carico fare sumministrare ad altri, e quelle di grazie a lor medesimi. Di nuovo conchiudo, che un Principe debbe stimare i grandi, ma non si far odiare dal popolo.

Parrebbe forse a molti, che, considerata la vita e morte di molti Imperatori Romani, fussono esempi contrarii a questa mia opinione, trovando alcuno esser vissuto sempre egregiamente, e mostro grande virtù d’animo, nondimeno aver perso l’imperio, ovvero essere stato morto da’ suoi che gli hanno congiurato contro. Volendo adunque rispondere a queste obiezioni, discorrerò le qualità di alcuni Imperatori, mostrando la cagione della lor rovina, non disforme da quello che da me si è addutto; e parte metterò in considerazione quelle cose che sono notabili a chi legge le azioni di quelli tempi. E voglio mi basti pigliare tutti quelli Imperatori, che succederono nell’Imperio da Marco Filosofo a Massimino, li quali furono Marco, Commodo suo figliuolo, Pertinace, Iuliano, Severo, Antonino, Caracalla suo figliuolo, Macrino, Eliogabalo, Alessandro, e Massimino. Ed è prima da notare, che dove negli altri Principi si ha solo a contendere con l’ambizione de’ grandi e insolenza de’ popoli, gl’Imperatori Romani avevano una terza difficultà, d’avere a sopportare la crudeltà ed avarizia de’ soldati; la qual cosa era sì difficile, che la fu cagione della rovina di molti, sendo difficile satisfare a’ soldati ed a’ popoli; perchè i populi amano la quiete, e per questo amano i Principi modesti, e li soldati amano il Principe d’animo militare, e che sia insolente, e crudele, e rapace. Le quali cose volevano che egli esercitasse ne’ popoli, per potere avere duplicato stipendio, e sfogare la loro avarizia e crudeltà; donde ne nacque che quelli Imperatori che per natura o per arte non avevano riputazione tale, che con quella tenessero l’uno e l’altro in freno, sempre rovinavano; e li più di loro, massime quelli che come uomini nuovi venivano al Principato, conosciuta la difficultà di questi duoi diversi umori, si volgevano a satisfare a’ soldati, stimando poco l’ingiuriare il popolo. Il qual partito era necessario; perchè non potendo i Principi mancare di non essere odiati da qualcuno, si debbono prima sforzare di non essere odiati dall’università; e quando non possono conseguir questo, si debbono ingegnare con ogni industria fuggire l’odio di quelle università che sono più potenti. E però quelli Imperatori, che per novità avevano bisogno di favori straordinari, aderivano ai soldati più volentieri, che alli popoli; il che tornava loro nondimeno utile o no, secondo che quel Principe si sapeva mantenere riputato con loro.

Da queste cagioni sopradette nacque che Marco, Pertinace, e Alessandro essendo tutti di modesta vita, amatori della giustizia, inimici della crudeltà, umani, e benigni, ebbero tutti, da Marco infuora, tristo fine; Marco solo visse e morì onoratissimo, perchè lui succedè all’Imperio per eredità, e non aveva a ricognoscer quello nè dai soldati, nè dai popoli; dipoi essendo accompagnato da molte virtù che lo facevano venerando, tenne sempre, mentre visse, l’uno ordine e l’altro dentro a’ suoi termini, e non fu mai nè odiato, nè disprezzato. Ma Pertinace fu creato Imperadore contro alla voglia de’ soldati, li quali, essendo usi a vivere licenziosamente sotto Commodo, non poterono sopportare quella vita onesta, alla quale Pertinace gli voleva ridurre; onde avendosi creato odio, ed a questo odio aggiunto dispregio per l’esser vecchio, rovinò ne’ primi principii della sua amministrazione. Onde si deve notare che l’odio si acquista così mediante le buone opere, come le triste; e però, come io dissi di sopra, volendo un Principe mantenere lo Stato, è spesso forzato a non esser buono; perchè quando quella università, o popolo, o soldati, o grandi che sieno, della quale tu giudichi, per mantenerti, aver bisogno, è corrotta, ti convien seguire l’umor suo, e sodisfarle; e allora le buone opere ti sono inimiche. Ma vegniamo ad Alessandro, il quale fu di tanta bontà, che tra l’altre lodi che gli sono attribuite, è, che in quattordici anni, che tenne l’imperio, non fu mai morto da lui nessuno ingiudicato; nondimanco, essendo tenuto effeminato, e uomo che si lasciasse governare dalla madre, e per questo venuto in dispregio; conspirò contro di lui l’esercito, ed ammazzollo.

Discorrendo ora per opposito le qualità di Commodo, di Severo, di Antonino, di Caracalla, e di Massimino, gli troverete crudelissimi e rapacissimi, li quali, per satisfare a’ soldati, non perdonarono a nissuna qualità d’ingiuria che ne’ popoli si potesse commettere; e tutti, eccetto Severo, ebbero tristo fine; perchè in Severo fu tanta virtù, che, mantenendosi i soldati amici, ancorchè i popoli fossero da lui gravati, potè sempre regnare felicemente; perchè quelle sue virtù lo facevano nel cospetto de’ soldati e de’ popoli sì mirabile, che questi rimanevano in un certo modo attoniti e stupidi, e quelli altri riverenti e satisfatti. E perchè le azioni di costui furono grandi in un Principe nuovo, io voglio mostrare brevemente quanto egli seppe bene usare la persona della volpe e del lione, le quali nature dico, come di sopra, esser necessario imitare ad un Principe.

Conosciuta Severo la ignavia di Iuliano Imperadore, persuase al suo esercito, del quale era in Schiavonia capitano, che egli era bene andare a Roma a vendicare la morte di Pertinace, il quale era stato morto dalla guardia imperiale, e sotto questo colore, senza mostrare di aspirare all’Imperio, mosse l’esercito contro a Roma, e fu prima in Italia che si sapesse la sua partita. Arrivato a Roma, fu dal Senato per timore eletto Imperadore, e morto Iuliano. Restavano a Severo dopo questo principio due difficultà a volersi insignorire di tutto lo Stato: l’una in Asia, dove Nigro capo degli eserciti Asiatici si era fatto chiamare Imperatore; l’altra in ponente di Albino, il quale ancora lui aspirava all’Imperio. E perchè giudicava pericoloso scoprirsi nimico a tutti duoi, deliberò di assaltar Nigro, e ingannare Albino; al quale scrisse, come essendo dal Senato eletto Imperadore, voleva partecipare quella dignità con lui, e mandogli il titolo di Cesare, e per deliberazione del Senato se lo aggiunse collega; le quali cose furono da Albino accettate per vere. Ma poichè Severo ebbe vinto e morto Nigro, e pacate le cose orientali, ritornatosi a Roma si querelò in Senato di Albino, che, come poco conoscente de’ beneficii ricevuti da lui, aveva a tradimento cerco d’ammazzarlo, e per questo era necessitato andare a punire la sua ingratitudine. Dipoi andò a trovarlo in Francia, e gli tolse lo Stato e la vita. Chi esaminerà adunque tritamente le azioni di costui, lo troverà un ferocissimo lione e un’astutissima volpe, e vedrà quello temuto e riverito da ciascuno, e dagli eserciti non odiato; e non si maraviglierà se lui, uomo nuovo, arà possuto tenere tanto Imperio, perchè la sua grandissima riputazione lo difese sempre da quell’odio che i popoli per le sue rapine avevano potuto concipere. Ma Antonino suo figliuolo fu ancor lui uomo eccellentissimo, ed aveva in sè parti eccellentissime, che lo facevano ammirabile nel cospetto de’ popoli, e grato a’ soldati, perchè era uomo militare, sopportantissimo di ogni fatica, disprezzatore di ogni cibo delicato, e di ogni altra mollizie; la qual cosa lo faceva amare da tutti gli eserciti. Nondimeno la sua ferocia e crudeltà fu tanta e sì inaudita, per avere dopo molte occisioni particulari morto gran parte del Popolo di Roma, e tutto quello d’Alessandria, che diventò odiosissimo a tutto il mondo, e cominciò ad esser temuto da quelli ancora che egli aveva intorno, in modo che fu ammazzato da un centurione in mezzo del suo esercito. Dove è da notare che queste simili morti, le quali seguitano per deliberazione di un animo deliberato e ostinato, non si possono da’ Principi evitare, perchè ciascuno che non si curi di morire, lo può fare; ma deve bene il Principe temerne meno, perchè le sono rarissime. Deve solo guardarsi di non fare ingiuria grave ad alcuno di coloro, de’ quali si serve, e che egli ha d’intorno al servizio del suo Principato, come aveva fatto Antonino, il quale aveva morto contumeliosamente un fratello di quel centurione, e lui ogni giorno minacciava, e nientedimeno lo teneva a guardia del suo corpo: il che era partito temerario, e da rovinarvi, come gl’intervenne. Ma vegniamo a Commodo, al quale era facilità grande tenere l’Imperio, per averlo ereditario, essendo figliuolo di Marco; e solo gli bastava seguire le vestigia del padre, ed a’ populi e a’ soldati arebbe satisfatto; ma essendo di animo crudele e bestiale, per potere usare la sua rapacità ne’ populi, si volse ad intrattenere gli eserciti, e fargli licenziosi; dall’altra parte non tenendo la sua dignità, descendendo spesso nelli teatri a combattere con i gladiatori, e facendo altre cose vilissime, e poco degne della Maiestà Imperiale, diventò vile nel cospetto de’ soldati; ed essendo odiato da una parte, e dall’altra disprezzato, fu conspirato contro di lui e morto.

Restaci a narrare le qualità di Massimino. Costui fu uomo bellicosissimo; ed essendo gli eserciti infastiditi dalla mollizie di Alessandro, del quale ho di sopra discorso, morto lui, lo elessero all’Imperio, il quale non molto tempo possedette, perchè due cose lo fecero odioso e disprezzato: l’una esser lui vilissimo per aver guardate le pecore in Tracia (la qual cosa era per tutto notissima, e gli faceva una gran dedignazione nel cospetto di ciascuno); l’altra, perchè avendo, nell’ingresso del suo Principato, differito l’andare a Roma, ed entrare nella possessione della sedia Imperiale, aveva dato opinione di crudelissimo, avendo per li suoi prefetti in Roma, e in qualunque luogo dell’Imperio esercitato molte crudeltà; a talchè commosso tutto il mondo dallo sdegno per la viltà del suo sangue, e dall’altra parte dallo odio per la paura della sua ferocia, prima l’Affrica, dipoi il Senato con tutto il Popolo di Roma, e tutta l’Italia gli cospirò contro; al che si aggiunse il suo proprio esercito, il quale campeggiando Aquileia, e trovando difficultà nell’espugnazione, infastidito della crudeltà sua, e, per vedergli tanti nimici, temendolo meno, lo ammazzò. Io non voglio ragionare nè di Eliogabalo, nè di Macrino, nè di Iuliano, i quali, per essere al tutto vili, si spensero subito; ma verrò alla conclusione di questo discorso; e dico, che li Principi de’ nostri tempi hanno meno questa difficultà di satisfare straordinariamente a’ soldati ne’ governi loro, perchè nonostante che si abbi ad avere a quelli qualche considerazione, pure si risolve presto, per non avere alcuno di questi Principi eserciti insieme, che sieno inveterati con li governi ed amministrazioni delle provincie, come erano gli eserciti dell’Imperio Romano; e però se allora era necessario sodisfare a’ soldati, più che a’ popoli, era perchè i soldati potevano più, che i popoli; ora è più necessario a tutti i Principi, eccetto che al Turco ed al Soldano, satisfare a’ popoli, che a’ soldati, perchè i popoli possono più, che quelli. Di che io ne eccettuo il Turco, tenendo sempre quello intorno dodicimila fanti e quindicimila cavalli, da’ quali dipende la sicurtà e la fortezza del suo Regno; ed è necessario che posposto ogni altro rispetto de’ popoli, se gli mantenga amici. Simile è il Regno del Soldano, quale essendo tutto in mano de’ soldati, conviene che ancora lui, senza respetto de’ popoli, se gli mantenga amici. Ed avete a notare, che questo Stato del Soldano è disforme da tutti gli altri Principati; perchè egli è simile al Pontificato Cristiano, il quale non si può chiamare nè Principato ereditario, nè Principato nuovo; perchè non i figliuoli del Principe morto rimangono eredi e signori, ma colui che è eletto a quel grado da coloro che ne hanno autorità. Ed essendo questo ordine anticato, non si può chiamare Principato nuovo; perchè in quello non sono alcune di quelle difficultà che sono ne’ nuovi; perchè sebbene il Principe è nuovo, gli ordini di quello Stato sono vecchi, e ordinati a riceverlo come se fusse loro signore ereditario.

Ma, tornando alla materia nostra, dico, che qualunque considererà al sopraddetto discorso, vedrà o l’odio, o il dispregio essere stato causa della rovina di quelli Imperadori prenominati, e cognoscerà ancora donde nacque, che parte di loro procedendo in uno modo, e parte al contrario, in qualunque di quelli uno ebbe felice, e gli altri infelice fine; perchè a Pertinace ed Alessandro, per essere Principi nuovi, fu inutile e dannoso il volere imitare Marco, che era nel Principato ereditario; e similmente a Caracalla, Commodo e Massimino essere stata cosa perniziosa imitar Severo, per non avere avuto tanta virtù che bastasse a seguitare le vestigia sue. Pertanto un Principe nuovo in un Principato non può imitare le azioni di Marco, nè ancora è necessario imitare quelle di Severo; ma deve pigliare di Severo quelle parti che per fondare il suo Stato sono necessarie, e da Marco quelle che sono convenienti e gloriose a conservare uno Stato, che sia di già stabilito e fermo.

CAPITOLO XX. Se le fortezze, e molte altre cose che spesse volte i Principi fanno, sono utili o dannose.

Alcuni Principi, per tenere sicuramente lo Stato, hanno disarmato i loro sudditi; alcuni altri hanno tenuto divise in parti le terre suggette; alcuni altri hanno nutrito nimicizie contro a sè medesimi; alcuni altri si sono volti a guadagnarsi quelli che gli erano sospetti nel principio del suo Stato; alcuni hanno edificato fortezze; alcuni le hanno rovinate e distrutte. E benchè di tutte queste cose non si possa dare determinata sentenzia, se non si viene su’ particulari di questi Stati, dove si avesse da pigliare alcuna simile deliberazione; nondimeno io parlerò in quel modo largo che la materia per sè medesima sopporta. Non fu mai adunque che un Principe nuovo disarmasse i suoi sudditi; anzi, quando gli ha trovati disarmati, gli ha sempre armati; perchè armandosi, quelle arme diventano tue; diventano fedeli quelli che ti sono sospetti; e quelli che erano fedeli, si mantengono; e gli sudditi tuoi si fanno tuoi partigiani. E perchè tutti i sudditi non si possono armare, quando si benefichino quelli che tu armi, con gli altri si può fare più sicurtà; e quella diversità del procedere che conoscono in loro, gli fa tuoi obbligati; quelli altri ti scusano, giudicando esser necessario quelli aver più merito che hanno più pericolo e più obbligo. Ma quando tu gli disarmi, tu incominci ad offendergli, e mostrare che tu abbi in loro diffidenza o per viltà, o per poca fede; e l’una e l’altra di queste opinioni concipe odio contro di te. E perchè tu non puoi stare disarmato, conviene che ti volti alla milizia mercenaria, della quale di sopra abbiam detto quale sia; e quando essa fusse buona, non può esser tanta, che ti difenda da’ nimici potenti, e da’ sudditi sospetti. Però, come io ho detto, un Principe nuovo in un nuovo Principato sempre vi ha ordinato l’arme. Di questi esempi son piene le istorie. Ma quando un Principe acquista uno Stato nuovo, che come membro si aggiunga al suo vecchio, allora è necessario disarmare quello Stato, eccetto quelli che nello acquistarlo si sono per te scoperti; e questi ancora con il tempo ed occasioni è necessario fargli molli ed effeminati, e ordinarsi in modo, che tutte l’arme del tuo Stato sieno in quelli soldati tuoi propri, che nello Stato tuo antico vivono appresso di te.

Solevano li antichi nostri, e quelli che erano stimati savi, dire, come era necessario tenere Pistoia con le parti, e Pisa con le fortezze; e per questo nutrivano in qualche terra lor suddita le differenze per possederla più facilmente. Questo, in quelli tempi che Italia era in un certo modo bilanciata, doveva essere ben fatto; ma non mi pare si possa dare oggi per precetto; perchè io non credo che le divisioni fatte faccino mai bene alcuno; anzi è necessario, quando il nimico si accosta, che le città divise si perdino subito; perchè sempre la parte più debole si accosterà alle forze esterne, e l’altra non potrà reggere. I Viniziani mossi, come io credo, dalle ragioni sopraddette, nutrivano le sette Guelfe e Ghibelline nelle città loro suddite; e benchè non gli lasciassino mai venire al sangue, pure nutrivano fra loro questi dispareri acciocchè, occupati quelli cittadini in quelle loro differenze, non si muovessero contro di loro. Il che, come si vide, non tornò poi loro a proposito; perchè, essendo rotti a Vailà, subito una parte di quelle prese ardire, e tolsono loro tutto lo Stato. Arguiscano pertanto simili modi debolezza del Principe; perchè in un Principato gagliardo mai si permetteranno tali divisioni; perchè le fanno solo profitto a tempo di pace, potendosi, mediante quelle, più facilmente maneggiare i sudditi; ma, venendo la guerra, mostra simile ordine la fallacia sua.

Sanza dubbio li Principi diventano grandi quando superano le difficultà e le opposizioni che son fatte loro; e però la fortuna, massime quando vuole far grande un Principe nuovo, il quale ha maggiore necessità di acquistare riputazione, che uno ereditario, gli fa nascere de’ nimici, e gli fa fare delle imprese contro, acciocchè quello abbia cagione di superarle, e su per quella scala, che gli hanno portata i nimici suoi, salir più alto. E però molti giudicano che un Principe savio, quando ne abbia l’occasione, deve nutrirsi con astuzia qualche inimicizia, acciocchè, oppressa quella, ne seguiti maggiore sua grandezza. Hanno i Principi, e specialmente quelli che son nuovi, trovato più fede e più utilità in quelli uomini, che nel principio del loro Stato son tenuti sospetti, che in quelli che nel principio erano confidenti. Pandolfo Petrucci Principe di Siena reggeva lo Stato suo più con quelli che furono sospetti, che con gli altri. Ma di questa cosa non si può parlare largamente, perchè ella varia secondo il subietto; solo dirò questo, che quelli uomini che nel principio di un Principato erano stati nimici, che sono di qualità che a mantenersi abbino bisogno di appoggio, sempre il Principe con facilità grandissima se li potrà guadagnare; e loro maggiormente son forzati a servirlo con fede, quanto cognoscono essere loro più necessario cancellare con l’opere quella opinione sinistra che si aveva di loro; e così il Principe ne trae sempre più utilità, che di coloro, i quali, servendolo con troppa sicurtà, trascurano le cose sue. E poichè la materia lo ricerca, non voglio lasciare indietro il ricordare a un Principe che ha preso uno Stato di nuovo, mediante i favori intrinsechi di quello, che consideri bene qual cagione abbi mosso quelli che l’hanno favorito, a favorirlo; e se ella non è affezione naturale verso di quello, ma fusse solo perchè quelli non si contentavano di quello Stato, con fatica e difficultà grande se gli potrà mantenere amici; perchè e’ fia impossibile che lui possa contentargli. E discorrendo bene con quelli esempi che dalle cose antiche e moderne si traggono la cagione di questo, vedrà esser molto più facile il guadagnarsi amici quelli uomini che dello Stato innanzi si contentavono, e però erano suoi nimici, che quelli, i quali, per non se ne contentare, gli diventarono amici, e favorironlo ad occuparlo.

È stata consuetudine de’ Principi, per poter tenere più sicuramente lo Stato loro, edificare fortezze che sieno briglia e freno di quelli che disegnassino far loro contro, ed avere un rifugio sicuro da un primo impeto. Io lodo questo modo, perchè gli è usitato anticamente. Nondimeno Messer Niccolò Vitelli ne’ tempi nostri si è visto disfare due fortezze in Città di Castello, per tener quello Stato. Guid’Ubaldo Duca di Urbino, ritornato nel suo Stato, donde da Cesare Borgia era stato cacciato, rovinò da fondamenti tutte le fortezze di quella provincia; e giudicò senza quelle più difficilmente riperdere quello Stato. I Bentivogli, ritornati in Bologna, usarono simil termine. Sono adunque le fortezze utili o no, secondo li tempi; e se ti fanno bene in una parte, ti offendono in una altra. E puossi discorrere questa parte così. Quel Principe che ha più paura de’ popoli, che de’ forestieri, deve fare le fortezze; ma quello che ha più paura de’ forestieri, che de’ popoli, deve lasciarle indietro. Alla Casa Sforzesca ha fatto e farà più guerra il castello di Milano che vi edificò Francesco Sforza, che alcun altro disordine di quello Stato. Però la migliore fortezza che sia, è non essere odiato da’ popoli; perchè ancora che tu abbi le fortezze, ed il popolo ti abbi in odio, le non ti salvano; perchè non mancano mai a’ popoli, preso che egli hanno l’armi, forestieri che gli soccorrino. Ne’ tempi nostri non si vede che quelle abbin fatto profitto ad alcun Principe, se non alla Contessa di Furlì quando fu morto il Conte Girolamo suo consorte; perchè, mediante quella, potè fuggire l’impeto popolare, ed aspettare il soccorso di Milano, e ricuperare lo Stato; e li tempi stavano allora in modo, che il forestiero non poteva soccorrere il popolo. Ma dipoi valsono ancor poco a lei, quando Cesare Borgia l’assaltò, e che il popolo nimico suo si congiunse col forestiero. Pertanto ed allora, e prima, saria stato più sicuro a lei non essere odiata dal popolo, che avere le fortezze. Considerate adunque queste cose, io loderò chi farà fortezze, e chi non le farà; e biasimerò qualunque, fidandosi delle fortezze, stimerà poco l’essere odiato da’ popoli.

CAPITOLO XXI. Come si debba governare un Principe per acquistarsi riputazione.

Nissuna cosa fa tanto stimare un Principe, quanto fanno le grandi imprese, e il dare di sè esempi rari. Noi abbiamo nei nostri tempi Ferrando Re d’Aragona, presente Re di Spagna. Costui si può chiamare quasi Principe nuovo, perchè d’un Re debole è diventato per fama e per gloria il primo Re dei Cristiani; e se considererete le azioni sue, le troverete tutte grandissime, e qualcuna straordinaria. Egli nel principio del suo regno assaltò la Granata, e quella impresa fu il fondamento dello Stato suo. In prima ei la fece ozioso, e senza sospetto di essere impedito; tenne occupati in quella gli animi de’ Baroni di Castiglia, li quali pensando a quella guerra non pensavano ad innovare; e lui acquistava in questo mezzo riputazione ed imperio sopra di loro, che non se ne accorgevano. Potè nutrire, con danari della Chiesa e de’ popoli, gli eserciti, e fare un fondamento con quella guerra lunga alla milizia, la quale dipoi lo ha onorato. Oltra questo, per potere intraprender maggiori imprese, servendosi sempre della Religione, si volse a una pietosa crudeltà, cacciando e spogliando il suo Regno de’ Marrani; nè può essere questo esempio più mirabile, nè più raro. Assaltò sotto questo medesimo mantello l’Affrica, fece l’impresa d’Italia, ha ultimamente assaltato la Francia, e così sempre ordito cose grande, le quali sempre hanno tenuto sospesi ed ammirati gli animi de’ sudditi, ed occupati nell’evento di esse. E sono nate queste sue azioni in modo l’una dall’altra, che non hanno dato mai spazio agli uomini di quietare ed operargli contro.

Giova ancora assai a un Principe dare di sè esempi rari circa il governo di dentro, simili a quelli che si narrano di Messer Bernabò di Milano, quando si ha l’occasione di qualcuno che operi qualche cosa straordinaria o in bene o in male nella vita civile, e trovare un modo circa il premiarlo o punirlo, di che s’abbi a parlare assai. E soprattutto un Principe si debbe ingegnare dare di sè in ogni sua azione fama di grande ed eccellente. È ancora stimato un Principe quando egli è vero amico, o vero nimico, cioè quando senza alcun rispetto si scuopre in favore di alcuno contro un altro; il qual partito fia sempre più utile, che star neutrale; perchè se duoi potenti tuoi vicini vengono alle mani, o essi sono di qualità che vincendo un di quelli tu abbi da temere del vincitore, o no. In qualunque di questi duoi casi ti sarà sempre più utile lo scuoprirti, e far buona guerra; perchè nel primo caso se tu non ti scuopri sarai sempre preda di chi vince con piacere e satisfazione di colui che è stato vinto, e non arai ragione nè cosa alcuna che ti difenda, nè chi ti riceva. Perchè chi vince non vuole amici sospetti, e che nelle avversità non l’aiutino; chi perde non ti riceve, per non aver tu voluto con l’armi in mano correre la fortuna sua.

Era passato Antioco in Grecia, messovi dagli Etoli per cacciarne i Romani. Mandò Antioco oratori agli Achei, che erano amici de’ Romani, a confortarli a star di mezzo; e dall’altra parte i Romani gli persuadevano a pigliare l’armi per loro. Venne questa cosa a deliberarsi nel concilio degli Achei, dove il legato d’Antioco gli persuadeva a stare neutrali; a che il legato Romano rispose: Quanto alla parte, che si dice essere ottimo ed utilissimo allo Stato vostro il non v’intromettere nella guerra nostra, niente vi è più contrario; imperocchè, non vi ci intromettendo, senza grazia e senza riputazione alcuna resterete premio del vincitore. E sempre interverrà, che quello che non è ti amico, ti richiederà della neutralità, e quello che ti è amico, ti ricercherà che ti scuopra con l’armi. E li Principi mal risoluti, per fuggire i presenti pericoli, seguono il più delle volte quella via neutrale, ed il più delle volte rovinano. Ma quando il Principe si scuopre gagliardamente in favore di una parte, se colui, con chi tu aderisci, vince, ancorachè sia potente e che tu rimanga a sua discrezione, egli ha teco obbligo, e vi è contratto l’amore, e gli uomini non sono mai sì disonesti, che con tanto esemplo d’ingratitudine ti opprimessero. Dipoi le vittorie non sono mai sì prospere, che il vincitore non abbia ad avere qualche rispetto; e massime alla giustizia. Ma se quello, con il quale tu aderisci, perde, tu siei ricevuto da lui; e, mentre che può, ti aiuta, e diventi compagno di una fortuna che può risurgere. Nel secondo caso quando quelli che combattono insieme sono di qualità, che tu non abbia da temere di quello che vince, tantopiù è gran prudenza lo aderire; perchè tu vai alla rovina d’uno con l’aiuto di chi lo dovrrebbe salvare, se fusse savio, e vincendo rimane alla tua discrezione, ed è impossibile con l’aiuto tuo non vinca. E qui è da notare, che un Principe deve avvertire non far mai compagnia con uno più potente di sè per offendere altri, se non quando la necessità lo strigne, come di sopra si dice; perchè, vincendo lui, tu rimani a sua discrezione, e li Principi debbono fuggire quanto possono lo stare a discrezione d’altri. I Viniziani si accompagnarono con Francia contro al Duca di Milano, e potevano fuggire di non fare quella compagnia; di che ne risultò la rovina loro. Ma quando non si può fuggirla, come intervenne a’ Fiorentini quando il Papa e Spagna andarono con gli eserciti ad assaltare la Lombardia, allora vi deve il Principe aderire per le sopradette ragioni. Nè creda mai alcuno Stato poter pigliare partiti sicuri; anzi pensi d’avere a prenderli tutti dubbi; perchè si trova questo nell’ordine delle cose, che mai si cerca fuggire uno inconveniente, che non s’incorra in un altro: ma la prudenza consiste in saper cognoscere la qualità degli inconvenienti, e prendere il manco tristo per buono.

Deve ancora un Principe mostrarsi amatore delle virtù, e onorare gli eccellenti in ciascuna arte. Appresso deve animare i suoi cittadini di poter quietamente esercitare gli esercizi loro e nella mercanzia, e nell’agricultura, ed in ogni altro esercizio degli uomini, acciocchè quello non si astenga di ornare le sue possessioni per timore che non gli sieno tolte, e quell’altro di aprire un traffico per paura delle taglie; ma deve preparare premi a chi vuol fare queste cose, ed a qualunque pensa in qualunque modo di ampliare la sua città o il suo Stato. Deve oltre a questo ne’ tempi convenienti dell’anno tenere occupati li popoli con le feste e spettacoli; e perchè ogni città è divisa o in arti o in tribù, deve tenere conto di quelle università, ragunarsi con loro qualche volta, dare di sè esempio di umanità e di magnificenza; tenendo nondimeno sempre ferma la maestà della dignità sua; perchè questo non si vuole mai che manchi in cosa alcuna.

CAPITOLO XXII. Delli segretari de’ Principi.

Non è di poca importanza a un Principe la elezione de’ ministri, li quali sono buoni o no, secondo la prudenza del Principe. E la prima coniettura che si fa di un signore, e del cervel suo, è vedere gli uomini che lui ha d’intorno; e quando sono sufficienti e fedeli, sempre si può riputarlo savio, perchè ha saputo cognoscergli sufficienti e mantenerseli fedeli. Ma quando siano altrimenti, sempre si può fare non buono giudizio di lui; perchè il primo errore che e’ fa, lo fa in questa elezione. Non era alcuno che cognoscesse Messer Antonio da Venafro per ministro di Pandolfo Petrucci Principe di Siena, che non giudicasse Pandolfo essere prudentissimo uomo, avendo quello per suo ministro. E perchè sono di tre generazioni cervelli; l’uno intende per sè, l’altro intende quanto da altri gli è mostro, il terzo non intende nè sè stesso nè per dimostrazione d’altri. Quel primo è eccellentissimo, il secondo eccellente, il terzo inutile.

Conveniva pertanto di necessità, che se Pandolfo non era nel primo grado, fusse nel secondo; perchè ogni volta che uno ha giudicio di cognoscere il bene ed il male che un fa e dice, ancorachè da sè non abbia invenzione, cognosce le opere triste e le buone del ministro, e quelle esalta e le altre corregge; ed il ministro non può sperare d’ingannarlo, e mantiensi buono. Ma come un Principe possa cognoscere il ministro, ci è questo modo che non falla mai. Quando tu vedi il ministro pensare più a sè, che a te, e che in tutte le azioni vi ricerca l’utile suo, questo tale così fatto mai non fia buon ministro, nè mai te ne potrai fidare; perchè quello che ha lo Stato di uno in mano, non deve mai pensare a sè, ma al Principe; e non gli ricordare mai cosa, che non appartenga a lui. E dall’altra parte il Principe per mantenerlo buono deve pensare al ministro, onorandolo, facendolo ricco, obbligandoselo, partecipandogli gli onori e carichi, acciocchè li assai onori, le assai ricchezze concessegli siano causa che egli non desideri altri onori, e ricchezze; e gli assai carichi gli faccino temere le mutazioni, cognoscendo non poter reggersi senza lui. Quando adunque i Principi e li ministri sono così fatti, possono confidare l’uno dell’altro; quando altrimenti, il fine sarà sempre dannoso o per l’uno, o per l’altro.

CAPITOLO XXIII. Come si debbino fuggire gli adulatori.

Non voglio lasciare indietro un capo importante, ed un errore, dal quale i Principi con difficultà si difendono, se non sono prudentissimi, o se non hanno buona elezione. E questo è quello degli adulatori, delli quali le corti sono piene, perchè gli uomini si compiacciono tanto nelle cose lor proprie, e in modo vi s’ingannano, che con difficultà si difendono da questa peste; ed a volersene difendere si porta pericolo di non diventare disprezzato. Perchè non ci è altro modo a guardarsi dalle adulazioni, se non che gli uomini intendino che non ti offendono a dirti il vero; ma quando ciascuno può dirti il vero, ti manca la riverenza. Pertanto un Principe prudente deve tenere un terzo modo, eleggendo nel suo Stato uomini savi, e solo a quelli deve dare libero arbitrio a parlargli la verità, e di quelle cose sole che lui domanda, e non di altro; ma deve domandargli di ogni cosa, e udire le opinioni loro, dipoi deliberare da sè a suo modo; e con questi consigli, e con ciascun di loro portarsi in modo, che ognuno conosca che quanto più liberamente si parlerà, tanto più gli sarà accettato; fuori di quelli, non volere udire alcuno, andar dietro alla cosa deliberata, ed essere ostinato nelle deliberazioni sue. Chi fa altrimenti o precipita per gli adulatori, o si muta spesso per la variazione de’ pareri; di che nasce la poca estimazione sua. Io voglio a questo proposito addurre un esempio moderno. Pre’ Luca, uomo di Massimiliano presente Imperatore, parlando di sua Maestà, disse, come non si consigliava con persona, e non faceva mai d’alcuna cosa a suo modo; il che nasceva dal tenere contrario termine al sopradetto; perchè l’Imperatore è uomo segreto, non comunica li suoi segreti con persona, non ne piglia parere. Ma come nel mettergli ad effetto s’incominciano a conoscere e scuoprire, gl’incominciano ad esser contradetti da coloro che egli ha d’intorno, e quello come facile se ne stoglie. Di qui nasce che quelle cose che fa l’un giorno, distrugge l’altro; e che non s’intenda mai quello che vogli, o disegni fare, e che sopra le sue deliberazioni non si può fondare.

Un Principe pertanto deve consigliarsi sempre, ma quando lui vuole, non quando altri vuole; anzi deve torre animo a ciascuno di consigliarlo d’alcuna cosa, se non gliene domanda; ma lui deve ben essere largo domandatore, e dipoi, circa le cose domandate, paziente auditore del vero; anzi intendendo che alcuno per qualche rispetto non gliene dica, turbarsene. E perchè molti stimano che alcun Principe, il quale dà di sè opinione di prudente, sia così tenuto non per sua natura, ma per li buoni consigli che lui ha d’intorno, senza dubbio s’ingannano; perchè questa non falla mai, ed è regola generale, che un Principe, il quale non sia savio per sè stesso, non può essere consigliato bene, se già a sorte non si rimettesse in un solo che al tutto lo governasse, che fusse uomo prudentissimo. In questo caso potria bene essere ben governato, ma durerebbe poco, perchè quello governatore in breve tempo gli torrebbe lo Stato; ma consigliandosi con più d’uno, un Principe che non sia savio, non arà mai uniti consigli, nè saprà per sè stesso unirgli. Dei consiglieri ciascuno penserà alla proprietà sua; ed egli non gli saprà correggere, nè cognoscere. E non si possono trovare altrimenti, perchè gli uomini sempre ti riusciranno tristi, se da una necessità non sono fatti buoni. Però si conchiude che li buoni consigli, da qualunque venghino, conviene naschino dalla prudenza del Principe, e non la prudenza del Principe da’ buoni consigli.

CAPITOLO XXIV. Perchè i Principi d’Italia abbino perduto i loro Stati.

Le cose sopradette osservate prudentemente fanno parere un Principe nuovo antico; e lo rendono subito più sicuro e più fermo nello Stato, che se vi fosse anticato dentro. Perchè un Principe nuovo è molto più osservato nelle sue azioni, che uno ereditario; e quando le son cognosciute virtuose, si guadagnano molto più gli uomini, e molto più gli obbligano, che il sangue antico; perchè gli uomini sono molto più presi dalle cose presenti, che dalle passate, e quando nelle presenti ei trovano il bene, vi si godono, e non cercano altro; anzi pigliano ogni difesa di lui, quando il Principe non manchi nelle altre cose a sè medesimo. E così arà duplicata gloria di aver dato principio a un Principato nuovo, ed ornatolo, e corroboratolo di buone leggi, di buone armi, di buoni amici, e di buoni esempi; come quello arà duplicata vergogna, che è nato Principe, e per sua poca prudenza l’ha perduto. E se si considera quelli Signori che in Italia hanno perduto lo Stato ne’ nostri tempi, come il Re di Napoli, Duca di Milano, e altri, si troverà in loro prima un comune difetto quanto all’armi, per le cagioni che di sopra a lungo si sono discorse; dipoi si vedrà alcun di loro o che arà avuto nimici i popoli, o se arà avuto amico il popolo, non si sarà saputo assicurare de’ grandi; perchè senza questi difetti non si perdono gli Stati, che abbino tanto nervi, che possino tenere un esercito alla campagna.

Filippo Macedone, non il padre di Alessandro Magno, ma quello che fu da Tito Quinzio vinto, aveva non molto Stato rispetto alla grandezza de’ Romani, e di Grecia, che l’assaltò; nientedimeno, per essere uomo militare, e che sapeva intrattenere i popoli, ed assicurarsi de’ grandi, sostenne più anni la guerra contro di quelli; e se alla fine perdè il dominio di qualche città, gli rimase nondimanco il Regno. Pertanto questi nostri Principi, i quali molti anni erano stati nel loro Principato, per averlo dipoi perso, non accusino la fortuna, ma l’ignavia loro; perchè non avendo mai pensato ne’ tempi quieti che possino mutarsi; (il che è comune difetto degli uomini non far conto nella bonaccia della tempesta) quando poi vennero i tempi avversi, pensarono a fuggirsi, non a difendersi, e sperarono che i populi, infastiditi per la insolenza de’ vincitori, gli richiamassero. Il quale partito, quando mancano li altri, è buono; ma è ben male avere lasciato gli altri rimedi per quello; perchè non si vorrebbe mai cadere per credere poi di trovare chi ti ricolga. Il che, o non avviene, o se egli avviene, non è con tua sicurtà, per essere quella difesa vile, e non dipendere da te; e quelle difese solamente sono buone, certe, e durabili, che dipendono da te proprio, e dalla virtù tua.

CAPITOLO XXV. Quanto possa nelle umane cose la fortuna, e in che modo se gli possa ostare.

Non mi è incognito, come molti hanno avuto e hanno opinione, che le cose del mondo siano in modo governate dalla fortuna, e da Dio, che gli uomini con la prudenza loro non possino correggerle, anzi non vi abbino rimedio alcuno; e per questo potrebbono giudicare che non fusse da insudare molto nelle cose, ma lasciarsi governare dalla sorte. Questa opinione è suta più creduta ne’ nostri tempi per la variazione delle cose grandi che si sono viste, e veggonsi ogni dì fuori di ogni umana coniettura. A che pensando io qualche volta, sono in qualche parte inchinato nella opinione loro. Nondimanco, perchè il nostro libero arbitrio non sia spento, giudico potere esser vero, che la fortuna sia arbitra della metà delle azioni nostre, ma che ancora ella ne lasci governare l’altra metà, o poco meno, a noi. Ed assomiglio quella ad fiume rovinoso, che quando ei si adira, allaga i piani, rovina gli arbori e gli edifici, lieva da questa parte terreno, ponendolo a quell’altra; ciascuno gli fugge davanti, ognuno cede al suo furore, senza potervi ostare; e benchè sia così fatto, non resta però che gli uomini, quando sono tempi quieti, non vi possino fare provvedimenti e con ripari, e con argini, immodochè crescendo poi, o egli andrebbe per un canale, o l’impeto suo non sarebbe sì licenzioso, nè sì dannoso.

Similmente interviene della fortuna, la quale dimostra la sua potenzia dove non è ordinata virtù a resistere, e quivi volta i suoi impeti, dove la sa che non sono fatti gli argini, nè i ripari a tenerla. E se voi considererete l’Italia, che è la sede di queste variazioni, e quella che ha dato loro il moto, vedrete essere una campagna senza argini, e senza alcun riparo. Che se la fusse riparata da conveniente virtù, come è la Magna, la Spagna, e la Francia, questa inondazione non avrebbe fatto le variazioni grandi che l’ha, o la non ci sarebbe venuta. E questo voglio basti aver detto quanto all’opporsi alla fortuna in universale. Ma restringendomi più al particulare, dico, come si vede oggi questo Principe felicitare, e domani rovinare, senza vederli aver mutato natura o qualità alcuna. Il che credo nasca prima dalle cagioni che si sono lungamente per lo addietro trascorse; cioè, che quel Principe che si appoggia tutto in sulla fortuna, rovina come quella varia. Credo ancora, che sia felice quello, il modo del cui procedere suo si riscontra con la qualità de’ tempi, e similmente sia infelice quello, dal cui procedere si discordano i tempi. Perchè si vede gli uomini nelle cose che gl’inducono al fine, quale ciascuno ha innanzi, cioè gloria e ricchezze, procedervi variamente, l’uno con rispetti, l’altro con impeto; l’uno per violenza, l’altro per arte; l’uno con pazienza, l’altro col suo contrario; e ciascuno con questi diversi modi vi può pervenire. E vedesi ancora duoi respettivi, l’uno pervenire al suo disegno, l’altro no; e similmente duoi equalmente felicitare con due diversi studi, essendo l’uno respettivo, l’altro impetuoso; il che non nasce da altro, se non da qualità di tempi che si conformino o no col procedere loro. Di qui nasce quello ho detto che duoi, diversamente operando, sortiscano il medesimo effetto; e duoi equalmente operando, l’uno si conduce al suo fine, l’altro no. Da questo ancora dipende la variazione del bene; perchè se a uno, che si governa con rispetto e pazienza, i tempi e le cose girano in modo che il governo suo sia buono, esso viene felicitando; ma se li tempi e le cose si mutano, egli rovina, perchè non muta modo di procedere. Nè si trova uomo sì prudente, che si sappi accordare a questo, sì perchè non si può deviare da quello, a che la natura l’inclina; sì ancora perchè avendo sempre uno prosperato camminando per una via, non si può persuadere, che sia bene partirsi da quella; e però l’uomo rispettivo, quando gli è tempo di venire all’impeto non lo sa fare; donde egli rovina; che se si mutasse natura con li tempi e con le cose, non si muterebbe fortuna. Papa Iulio II procedette in ogni sua cosa impetuosamente, e trovò tanto i tempi e le cose conformi a quel suo modo di procedere, che sempre sortì felice fine. Considerate la prima impresa che fece di Bologna, vivendo ancora Messer Giovanni Bentivogli. I Viniziani non se ne contentavano, il Re di Spagna similmente con Francia aveva ragionamento di tale impresa; e lui nondimanco con la sua ferocità ed impeto si mosse personalmente a quella espedizione, la qual mossa fece star sospesi e fermi e Spagna, e i Viniziani; quelli per paura, quell’altro per il desiderio di ricuperare tutto il Regno di Napoli; e dall’altra parte si tirò dietro il Re di Francia, perchè vedutolo quel Re mosso, e desiderando farselo amico per abbassare i Viniziani, giudicò non poterli negare le sue genti senza ingiuriarlo manifestamente.

Condusse adunque Iulio con la sua mossa impetuosa quello che mai altro Pontefice con tutta l’umana prudenza non avria condutto; perchè se egli aspettava di partirsi da Roma con le conclusione ferme, e tutte le cose ordinate, come qualunque altro Pontefice arebbe fatto, mai non gli riusciva. Perchè il Re di Francia avria trovate mille scuse, e gli altri gli arebbero messo mille paure. Io voglio lasciare stare le altre sue azioni, che tutte sono state simili, e tutte gli sono successe bene, e la brevità della vita non gli ha lasciato sentire il contrario; perchè se fussero sopravvenuti tempi che fosse bisognato procedere con rispetti, ne seguiva la sua rovina; perchè mai non arebbe deviato da quelli modi, a’ quali la natura lo inchinava. Conchiudo adunque, che, variando la fortuna, e gli uomini stando nei loro modi ostinati, sono felici mentre concordano insieme, e come discordano sono infelici. Io giudico ben questo, che sia meglio essere impetuoso, che rispettivo, perchè la Fortuna è donna; ed è necessario, volendola tener sotto, batterla, ed urtarla; e si vede che la si lascia più vincere da questi che da quelli che freddamente procedono. E però sempre, come donna, è amica de’ giovani, perchè sono meno rispettivi, più feroci, e con più audacia la comandano.

CAPITOLO XXVI. Esortazione a liberare la Italia da’ barbari.

Considerato adunque tutte le cose di sopra discorse, e pensando meco medesimo se al presente in Italia correvano tempi da onorare un Principe nuovo, e se ci era materia che desse occasione a uno prudente e virtuoso d’introdurvi nuova forma, che facesse onore a lui, e bene alla università degli uomini di quella, mi pare concorrino tante cose in beneficio d’un Principe nuovo, che non so qual mai tempo fusse più atto a questo. E se, come io dissi, era necessario, volendo vedere la virtù di Moisè, che il popolo d’Istrael fusse schiavo in Egitto, ed a conoscere la grandezza e l’animo di Ciro, che i Persi fussero oppressi da’ Medi, e ad illustrare l’eccellenza di Teseo, che gli Ateniesi fussero dispersi; così al presente, volendo conoscere la virtù di uno spirito Italiano, era necessario che l’Italia si conducesse ne’ termini presenti, e che la fusse più schiava che gli Ebrei, più serva che i Persi, più dispersa che gli Ateniesi, senza capo, senz’ordine, battuta, spogliata, lacera, corsa, ed avesse sopportato di ogni sorta rovine. E benchè infino a qui si sia mostro qualche spiraculo in qualcuno da poter giudicare che fusse ordinato da Dio per sua redenzione; nientedimanco si è visto come dipoi nel più alto corso delle azioni è stato dalla fortuna reprobato in modo, che, rimasa come senza vita, aspetta qual possa esser quello che sani le sue ferite, e ponga fine alle direpzioni, e a’ sacchi di Lombardia, alle espilazioni, e taglie del Reame, e di Toscana, e la guarisca di quelle sue piaghe già per lungo tempo infistolite.

Vedesi come la prega Dio che gli mandi qualcuno che la redima da queste crudeltà ed insolenzie barbare. Vedesi ancora tutta pronta e disposta a seguire una bandiera, purchè ci sia alcuno che la pigli. Nè si vede al presente in quale la possa più sperare che nella illustre Casa Vostra, la quale con la sua virtù e fortuna, favorita da Dio e dalla Chiesa, della quale è ora Principe, possa farsi capo di questa redenzione. E questo non vi sarà molto difficile, se vi recherete innanzi le azioni e vite de’ soprannominati. E benchè quelli uomini siano rari e maravigliosi; nondimeno furono uomini, ed ebbe ciascuno di loro minore occasione, che la presente; perchè l’impresa loro non fu più giusta di questa, nè più facile; nè fu Dio più a loro amico, che a voi. Qui è giustizia grande, perchè quella guerra è giusta, che gli è necessaria; e quelle armi sono pietose, dove non si spera in altro, che in elle. Qui è disposizione grandissima; nè può essere, dove è grande disposizione, grande difficultà; purchè quella pigli delli ordini di coloro che io vi ho proposto per mira. Oltre a questo, qui si veggono straordinari senza esempio, condutti da Dio: il mare s’è aperto, una nube vi ha scorto il cammino, la pietra ha versato l’acqua; qui è piovuto la manna, ogni cosa è concorsa nella vostra grandezza; il rimanente dovete far voi. Dio non vuole far ogni cosa, per non ci torre il libero arbitrio, e parte di quella gloria che tocca a noi. E non è maraviglia, se alcuno de’ prenominati Italiani non ha possuto far quello che si può sperare facci la illustre Casa Vostra, e se in tante revoluzioni d’Italia, e in tanti maneggi di guerra, e’ pare sempre che in quella la virtù militare sia spenta; perchè questo nasce che gli ordini antichi di quella non erano buoni, e non ci è suto alcuno che abbia saputo trovare de’ nuovi. Nessuna cosa fa tanto onore ad uno uomo che di nuovo surga, quanto fanno le nuove leggi e nuovi ordini trovati da lui. Queste cose quando sono ben fondate, ed abbino in loro grandezza, lo fanno reverendo e mirabile, e in Italia non manca materia da introdurvi ogni forma. Qui è virtù grande nelle membra, quando ella non mancasse ne’ capi. Specchiatevi nelli duelli, e nei congressi de’ pochi, quanto gl’Italiani siano superiori con le forze, con la destrezza, con l’ingegno. Ma come si viene agli eserciti, non compariscono; e tutto procede dalla debolezza de’ capi, perchè quelli che sanno, non sono ubbedienti, ed a ciascuno par sapere, non ci essendo infino a qui suto alcuno che si sia rilevato tanto e per virtù e per fortuna, che gli altri cedino. Di qui nasce che in tanto tempo, in tante guerre fatte ne’ passati venti anni, quando gli è stato un esercito tutto Italiano, sempre ha fatto mala prova; di che è testimone prima il Taro, dipoi Alessandria, Capua, Genova, Vailà, Bologna, Mestri.

Volendo dunque la illustre Casa Vostra seguitare quelli eccellenti uomini, che redimerono le provincie loro, è necessario innanzi a tutte le altre cose, come vero fondamento d’ogni impresa, provvedersi d’armi proprie; perchè non si può avere nè più fidi, nè più veri, nè migliori soldati. E benchè ciascuno di essi sia buono, tutti insieme diventeranno migliori, quando si vedranno comandare dal loro Principe, e da quello onorare ed intrattenere. È necessario pertanto prepararsi a queste armi, per potersi con virtù Italiana difendere dagli esterni. E benchè la fanteria Svizzera, e Spagnuola sia stimata terribile; nondimanco in ambedue è difetto, per il quale uno ordine terzo potrebbe non solamente opporsi loro, ma confidare di superargli. Perchè gli Spagnuoli non possono sostenere i cavalli, e gli Svizzeri hanno ad aver paura de’ fanti, quando gli riscontrino nel combattere ostinati come loro. Donde si è veduto, e vedrassi per isperienza, gli Spagnuoli non poter sostenere una cavalleria Francese, e gli Svizzeri essere rovinati da una fanteria Spagnuola. E benchè di questo ultimo non se ne sia vista intera sperienza; nientedimeno se ne è veduto uno saggio nella giornata di Ravenna, quando le fanterie Spagnuole si affrontarono con le battaglie Tedesche, le quali servano il medesimo ordine che i Svizzeri, dove gli Spagnuoli con l’agilità del corpo, e aiuti de’ loro brocchieri erano entrati tra le picche loro sotto, e stavano sicuri ad offendergli, senza che li Tedeschi vi avessino rimedio; e se non fusse la cavalleria che gli urtò, gli arebbono consumati tutti. Puossi adunque, cognosciuto il difetto dell’una e dell’altra di queste fanterie, ordinarne una di nuovo, la quale resista a’ cavalli, e non abbia paura de’ fanti; il che lo farà non la generazione delle armi, ma la variazione degli ordini. E queste sono di quelle cose che di nuovo ordinate danno riputazione, e grandezza a un Principe nuovo. Non si deve adunque lasciar passare questa occasione, acciocchè la Italia vegga dopo tanto tempo apparire un suo redentore. Nè posso esprimere con quale amore ei fussi ricevuto in tutte quelle provincie che hanno patito per queste illuvioni esterne, con qual sete di vendetta, con che ostinata fede, con che pietà, con che lacrime. Quali porte se gli serrerebbono? Quali popoli li negherebbono la obbidienza? Quale invidia se gli opporrebbe? Quale Italiano gli negherebbe l’ossequio? Ad ognuno puzza questo barbaro dominio. Pigli adunque la illustre Casa Vostra questo assunto con quello animo, e con quelle speranze che si pigliano l’imprese giuste, acciocchè sotto la sua insegna questa patria ne sia nobilitata, e sotto i suoi auspicii si verifichi quel detto del Petrarca:

Virtù contro al furore

Prenderà l’armi, e fia il combatter corto;

Chè l’antico valore

Negli Italici cuor non è ancor morto.

THE ART OF WAR

The Art of War was written between 1519 and 1520 and published the following year, being Machiavelli’s only historical or political work printed during his lifetime, though he was appointed official historian of Florence in 1520 and entrusted with minor civil duties. The treatise is composed as a Socratic dialogue, with the purpose, declared by Lord Fabrizio Colonna at the outset, “To honour and reward virtù, not to have contempt for poverty, to esteem the modes and orders of military discipline, to constrain citizens to love one another, to live without factions, to esteem less the private than the public good.” To these ends, Machiavelli notes in his preface, the military is like the roof of a palazzo protecting the contents.

The text is divided into a preface and seven books of dialogues that take place in the Orti Oricellari, the gardens built in a classical style by Bernardo Rucellai in the 1490’s for Florentine aristocrats and humanists to engage in discussion. The work is dedicated to Lorenzo di Filippo Strozzi, patrizio fiorentino in a preface that openly pronounces Machiavelli’s authorship. After repeated uses of the first person single to introduce the dialogue, Machiavelli retreats from the work, serving as neither narrator nor interlocutor. Fabrizio is enamoured with the Roman Legions of the early to mid Roman Republic and strongly advocates adapting them to the contemporary situation of Renaissance Florence. He dominates the discussions with his knowledge, wisdom and insights. The other characters, for the most part, simply yield to his superior knowledge and merely bring up topics and ask him questions for clarification. These dialogues often become monologues, with Fabrizio detailing how an army should be raised, trained, organised, deployed and employed.

The Art of War echoes many themes and proposals from Machiavelli’s earlier, more widely read works, The Prince and Discourses on Livy. To the contemporary reader, Machiavelli’s dialogue may seem impractical and to undervalue the effectiveness of both firearms and cavalry. However, his theories were not merely based on a thorough study and analysis of classical and contemporary military practices. Machiavelli had served for fourteen years as secretary to the Chancery of Florence and “personally observed and reported back to his government on the size, composition, weaponry, morale, and logistical capabilities of the most effective militaries of his day.” However, the native fighting force he observed did suffer a catastrophic defeat in Prato in 1512 which led to the downfall of Republican government. Machiavelli wrote that war must be expressly defined. He developed the philosophy of “limited warfare” — that is, when diplomacy fails, war is an extension of politics. The Art of War also emphasises the necessity of a state militia and promotes the concept of armed citizenry. Machiavelli believed that all society, religion, science and art rested on the security provided by the military.

The title page of the first English translation, 1560

Machiavelli by an unknown artist

CONTENTS

PETER WHITEHORNE TRANSLATION, 1560

HENRY NEVILLE TRANSLATION, 1675

THE ORIGINAL ITALIAN TEXT, 1520

The location of the Orti Oricellari today

PETER WHITEHORNE TRANSLATION, 1560

CONTENTS

THE PROHEME

THE TABLE OF CERTAIN PRINCIPALL THINGES, CONTAINED IN THIS WOORKE OF MACHIAVEL

THE FIRST BOOKE

THE SECOND BOOKE

THE THIRDE BOOKE

THE FOWERTH BOOKE

THE FIVETH BOOKE

THE SIXTHE BOOKE

THE SEVENTH BOOKE

TO THE READERS

THE ARTE OF WARRE

WRITTEN FIRST IN ITALIAN BY

NICHOLAS MACHIAVELL

AND SET FORTHE IN ENGLISHE BY

PETER WHITEHORNE

STUDIENT AT GRAIES INNE

WITH AN ADDICION OF OTHER LIKE MARCIALLE FEATES AND EXPERIMENTES

AS IN A TABLE

IN THE ENDE OF THE BOOKE

MAIE APPERE

1560

Menfss. Iulij.

TO THE MOSTE

HIGHE, AND EXCELLENT PRINCES,

ELIZABETH, by the Grace of God, Quene

of Englande, Fraunce, and Irelande,

defender of the faithe, and of the Churche

of Englande, and Irelande, on yearth

next under God, the supreme

Governour.

Although commonlie every man, moste worthie and renoumed Soveraine, seketh specially to commend and extolle the thing, whereunto he feleth hymself naturally bent and inclined, yet al soche parciallitie and private affection laid aside, it is to bee thought (that for the defence, maintenaunce, and advauncemente of a Kyngdome, or Common weale, or for the good and due observacion of peace, and administracion of Justice in the same) no one thinge to be more profitable, necessarie, or more honourable, then the knowledge of service in warre, and dedes of armes; bicause consideryng the ambicion of the  worlde, it is impossible for any realme or dominion, long to continue free in quietnesse and savegarde, where the defence of the sweard is not alwaies in a readinesse. For like as the Grekes, beyng occupied aboute triflyng matters, takyng pleasure in resityng of Comedies, and soche other vain thinges, altogether neclecting Marciall feates, gave occasion to Philip kyng of Macedonia, father to Alexander the Great, to oppresse and to bring theim in servitude, under his subjeccion, even so undoubtedly, libertie will not be kepte, but men shall be troden under foote, and brought to moste horrible miserie and calamitie, if thei givyng theim selves to pastymes and pleasure, forssake the juste regarde of their owne defence, and savegarde of their countrie, whiche in temporall regimente, chiefly consisteth in warlike skilfulnesse. And therefore the aunciente Capitaines and mightie Conquerours, so longe as thei florished, did devise with moste greate diligence, all maner of waies, to bryng their men to the perfect knowledge of what so ever thing appertained to the warre: as manifestly appereth by the warlike games, whiche in old time the Princes of Grecia ordained, upon the mount Olimpus, and also by thorders and exercises, that the aunciente  Romaines used in sundrie places, and specially in Campo Martio, and in their wonderful sumptuous Theaters, whiche chiefly thei builded to that purpose. Whereby thei not onely made their Souldiours so experte, that thei obtained with a fewe, in faightyng againste a greate houge multitude of enemies, soche marveilous victories, as in many credible Histories are mencioned, but also by the same meanes, their unarmed and rascalle people that followed their Campes, gotte soche understandyng in the feates of warre, that thei in the daie of battaile, beeyng lefte destitute of succour, were able without any other help, to set themselves in good order, for their defence againste the enemie, that would seke to hurte theim, and in soche daungerous times, have doen their countrie so good service, that verie often by their helpe, the adversaries have been put to flight, and fieldes moste happely wone. So that thantiquitie estemed nothing more happie in a common weale, then to have in the same many men skilfull in warlike affaires: by meanes whereof, their Empire continually inlarged, and moste wonderfully and triumphantly prospered. For so longe as men for their valiauntnesse, were then rewarded and had in estimacion, glad was he that  could finde occasion to venter, yea, and spende his life, to benefite his countrie: as by the manly actes that Marcus Curcius, Oracius Cocles, and Gaius Mucius did for the savegarde of Rome and also by other innumerable like examples dooeth plainly appeare. But when through long and continuall peace, thei began to bee altogether given to pleasure and delicatenesse, little regardyng Marciall feates, nor soche as were expert in the practise thereof: Their dominions and estates, did not so moche before increase and prospere, as then by soche meanes and oversight, thei sodainly fell into decaie and utter ruine. For soche truly is the nature and condicion, bothe of peace and warre, that where in governemente, there is not had equalle consideration of them bothe, the one in fine, doeth woorke and induce, the others oblivion and utter abholicion. Wherfore, sith the necessitie of the science of warres is so greate, and also the necessarie use thereof so manifeste, that even Ladie Peace her self, doeth in maner from thens crave her chief defence and preservacion, and the worthinesse moreover, and honour of the same so greate, that as by prose we see, the perfecte glorie therof, cannot easely finde roote, but in the hartes of moste noble couragious  and manlike personages, I thought most excellente Princes, I could not either to the specialle gratefiyng of your highnesse, the universall delight of all studious gentlemen, or the common utilitie of the publike wealth, imploie my labours more profitablie in accomplishyng of my duetie and good will, then in settyng foorthe some thing, that might induce to the augmentyng and increase of the knowledge thereof: inespecially thexample of your highnes most politike governemente over us, givyng plaine testimonie of the wonderfull prudente desire that is in you, to have your people instructed in this kinde of service, as well for the better defence of your highnesse, theim selves, and their countrie, as also to discourage thereby, and to be able to resist the malingnitie of the enemie, who otherwise would seeke peradventure, to invade this noble realme or kyngdome.

When therfore about x. yeres paste, in the Emperours warres against the Mores and certain Turkes beyng in Barberie, at the siege and winnyng of Calibbia, Monesterio and Africa, I had as well for my further instruction in those affaires, as also the better to acquainte me with the Italian tongue, reduced into Englishe, the  booke called The arte of Warre, of the famous and excellente Nicholas Machiavell, whiche in times paste he beyng a counsailour, and Secretarie of the noble Citee of Florence, not without his greate laude and praise did write: and havyng lately againe, somwhat perused the same, the whiche in soche continuall broiles and unquietnesse, was by me translated, I determined with my self, by publishyng thereof, to bestowe as greate a gift (sins greater I was not able) emongeste my countrie men, not experte in the Italian tongue, as in like woorkes I had seen before me, the Frenchemen, Duchemen, Spaniardes, and other forreine nacions, moste lovyngly to have bestowed emongeste theirs: The rather undoubtedly, that as by private readyng of the same booke, I then felt my self in that knowledge marveilously holpen and increased, so by communicatyng the same to many, our Englishemen findyng out the orderyng and disposyng of exploictes of warre therein contained, the aide and direction of these plaine and briefe preceptes, might no lesse in knowledge of warres become incomperable, then in prowes also and exercise of the same, altogether invincible: which my translacion moste gracious Soveraine, together  with soche other thynges, as by me hath been gathered, and thought good to adde thereunto, I have presumed to dedicate unto youre highnes: not onely bicause the whole charge and furniture of warlike counsailes and preparacions, being determined by the arbitremente of Governours and Princes, the treatise also of like effecte should in like maner as of right, depende upon the protection of a moste worthie and noble Patronesse, but also that the discourse it self, and the woorke of a forrein aucthour, under the passeport and safeconduite of your highnes moste noble name, might by speciall aucthoritie of the same, winne emongest your Majesties subjectes, moche better credite and estimacion. And if mooste mightie Queen, in this kind of Philosophie (if I maie so terme it) grave and sage counsailes, learned and wittie preceptes, or politike and prudente admonicions, ought not to be accompted the least and basest tewels of weale publike. Then dare I boldely affirme, that of many straungers, whiche from forrein countries, have here tofore in this your Majesties realme arrived, there is none in comparison to bee preferred, before this worthie Florentine and Italian, who havyng frely without any gaine of exchaunge (as after some  acquaintaunce and familiaritie will better appeare) brought with hym moste riche, rare and plentiful Treasure, shall deserve I trust of all good Englishe lishe hartes, most lovingly and frendly to be intertained, embraced and cherished. Whose newe Englishe apparell, how so ever it shall seme by me, after a grosse fasion, more fitlie appoincted to the Campe, then in nice termes attired to the Carpet, and in course clothyng rather putte foorthe to battaile, then in any brave shewe prepared to the bankette, neverthelesse my good will I truste, shall of your grace be taken in good parte, havyng fashioned the phraise of my rude stile, even accordyng to the purpose of my travaile, whiche was rather to profite the desirous manne of warre, then to delight the eares of the fine Rethorician, or daintie curious scholemanne: Moste humblie besechyng your highnes, so to accept my labour herein, as the first fruictes of a poore souldiours studie, who to the uttermoste of his smalle power, in the service of your moste gracious majestie, and of his countrie, will at al tymes, accordyng to his bounden duetie and allegeaunce, promptlie yeld hym self to any labour, travaile, or daunger, what so ever shal happen. Praiyng  in the mean season the almightie God, to give your highnes in longe prosperous raigne, perfect health, desired tranquilitie, and against all your enemies, luckie and joifull victorie.

Your humble subject and dailie oratour,

PETER WHITEHORNE.

THE PROHEME

OF NICHOLAS MACHIAVELL,

Citezein and Secretarie of Florence,

upon his booke of the Arte of Warre, unto

Laurence Philippe Strozze, one of the

nobilitie of Florence.

There have Laurence, many helde, and do holde this opinion, that there is no maner of thing, whiche lesse agreeth the one with the other, nor that is so much unlike, as the civil life to the Souldiours. Wherby it is often seen, that if any determin in thexercise of that kinde of service to prevaile, that incontinent he doeth not only chaunge in apparel, but also in custome and maner, in voice, and from the facion of all civil use, he doeth alter: For that he thinketh not meete to clothe with civell apparell him, who wil be redie, and promt to all kinde of violence, nor the civell customes, and usages maie that man have, the whiche judgeth bothe those customes to be effeminate, and those usages not to be agreable to his profession: Nor it semes not convenient for him to use the civill gesture and ordinarie wordes, who with fasing and blasphemies, will make afraied other menne: the whiche causeth in this time, suche opinion to be moste true. But if thei should consider thauncient orders, there should nothing be founde more united, more confirmable, and that of necessitie ought to love so much the one the other, as these: for as muche as  all the artes that are ordeined in a common weale, in regarde or respecte of common profite of menne, all the orders made in the same, to live with feare of the Lawe, and of God should be vaine, if by force of armes their defence wer not prepared, which, well ordeined, doe maintain those also whiche be not well ordeined. And likewise to the contrarie the good orders, without the souldiours help, no lesse or otherwise doe disorder, then the habitacion of a sumptuous and roiall palais, although it wer decte with gold and precious stones, when without being covered, should not have wherewith to defende it from the raine. And if in what so ever other orders of Cities and Kyngdomes, there hath been used al diligence for to maintain men faithfull, peaceable, and full of the feare of God, in the service of warre, it was doubled: if for in what man ought the countrie to seke greater faith, then in him, who must promise to die for the same? In whom ought there to bee more love of peace, then in him, whiche onely by the warre maie be hurte? In whome ought there to bee more feare of GOD, then in him, which every daie committyng himself to infinite perilles, hath moste neede of his helpe? This necessitie considered wel, bothe of them that gave the lawes to Empires, and of those that to the exercise of service wer apoincted, made that the life of Souldiours, of other menne was praised, and with all studie folowed and imitated. But the orders of service of war, beyng altogether corrupted, and a greate waie from the auncient maners altered, there hath growen these sinisterous opinions, which maketh men to hate the warlike service, and to flie the conversacion of those that dooe exercise it. Albeit I judgeing by the same, that I have seen and redde, that it is not a thyng impossible, to bryng it again to the auncient maners, and to give it some facion of the vertue passed, I have determined to the entente not to passe this my idell time, without doyng some thyng, to write that whiche I doe understande, to the satisfaction of those, who of aunciente actes, are lovers of the science of warre. And although it be a bold thing to intreate of the same matter, wher of  otherwise I have made no profession, notwithstanding I beleve it is no errour, to occupie with wordes a degree, the whiche many with greater presumpcion with their deedes have occupied: for as muche as the errours that I maie happen to make by writing, may be without harme to any man corrected: but those the whiche of them be made in doyng cannot be knowen without the ruine of Empires. Therefore Laurence you ought to consider the qualitie of this my laboure, and with your judgement to give it that blame, or that praise, as shall seeme unto you it hath deserved. The whiche I sende unto you, as well to shewe my selfe gratefull, although my habilitie reche not to the benefites, which I have received of you, as also for that beyng the custome to honour with like workes them who for nobilitie, riches, wisedome, and liberalitie doe shine: I knowe you for riches, and nobilitie, not to have many peeres, for wisedome fewe, and for liberalitie none.

THE TABLE OF CERTAIN PRINCIPALL THINGES, CONTAINED IN THIS WOORKE OF MACHIAVEL

IN THE FIRSTE BOOKE

Why a good man ought not to exersise warfare as his arte

Deedes of armes ought to be used privatly in time of peace for exersise, and in time of warre for necessetie and renoume

The strength of an armie is the footemen

The Romaines renued their Legions and had men in the flower of their age

Whether men of armes ought to be kept

What is requisete for the preparyng of an armie

Out of what contrie souldiers ought to be chosen

Souldiers ought to bee chosen, by thaucthoritie of the Prince, of suche men as be his oune subjectes

The difference of ages, that is to be taken in the chosinge of souldiours for the restoring of an olde power and for the making of a newe

The weapons or power that is prepared, of the naturall subjectes, of a common weale bringeth profit and not hurte

What cause letted the Venetians, that they made not a Monarchi of the worlde

How an armie maye bee prepared in the countrie, where were no exersise of warre

The custome that the Romaines used, in the chosyng of their souldiours

The greater number of men is best

Whether the multitude of armed men ar occation of confusion and of dissorder

How to prohibite, that the Capitaines make no discension

IN THE SECONDE BOOKE

What armour the antiquetie used

The occation of the boldenes of the duchemen

Whiche maner of armyng menne is better either the Duche or Romaine fasion

Diverse examples of late dayes

An example of Tigran

Whether the footemen or the horsemen ought to bee estemed moste

The cause whie the Romaines were overcome of the parthians

What order, or what vertue maketh, that footemen overcum horsemen

Howe the antiquitie exersised their men to learne them to handle their weapons

What the antiquitie estemed moste happie in a common weale

The maner, of maintainyng the order

What a legion is, of Grekes called a Falange, and of Frenchemen Catterva

The devision of a legion, and the divers names of orders

The order of batellraye, and the manner of appoincting the battels

How to order, CCCC.L. men to doo some severall feate

The fation of a battaile that the Suisers make like a crosse

What carriages the Capitaines ought to have, and the number of carriages requisite to every band of men

Diverse effectes caused of diverse soundes

Whereof cometh the utilitie, and the dissorder of the armies that are now a daies

The manner of arminge men

The number of carriages that men of armes and lighte horsemen ought to have

IN THE THIRDE BOOKE

The greatest dissorder that is used now a dayes in the orderinge of an armie

How the Romaines devided their armie in Hastati, Principi and Triarii

The manner that the Romaines used to order them selves agayne in the overthrow

The custom of the Greekes

A maine battaile of Suissers

How manie legions of Romaine Citesens was in an ordinarie armie

The manner how to pitche a fielde to faighte a battaile

Of what number of faighting men an armie oughte to be

The description of a battaile that is a faighting

An exsample of Ventidio faighting against the Parthians

An example of Epaminondas

How the Artillerie is unprofitable

How that a maine battaile of Suissers cannot ocupie more then fower pikes

How the battailes when thei cum to be eight or ten, maye be receyved in the verie same space, that received the fyve

The armes that the Standarde of all tharmie ought to have

Divers examples of the antiquetie

IN THE FOWERTH BOOKE

Whether the fronte of the armie ought to bee made large

To how many thinges respecte ought to be had, in the ordringe of an armie

An example of Scipio

In what place a Capitain maie order his armie with savegarde not to be clene overthrowen

Aniball and Scipio praised for the orderynge of their armies

Cartes used of the Asiaticans

Diverse examples of the antiquitie

The prudence which the Capitaine ought to use, in the accidence that chaunse in faightinge

What a Capitaine ought to doo, that is the conqueror, or that is conquered

A Capitaine ought not to faighte the battaile, but with advauntage, excepte he be constrained

How to avoide the faightinge of the fielde

Advertismentes that the Capitaine ought to have

Speakyng to souldiers helpeth muche to make them to be curagious and bolde

Whether all the armie ought to bee spoken unto, or onely to the heddes thereof

IN THE FYVETH BOOKE

The manner how to leade an armie gowinge thorough suspected places, or to incounter the enemie

An example of Aniball

Wether any thing oughte to bee commaunded with the voise or with the trompet

The occations why the warres made now a dayes, doo impoverish the conquerors as well as the conquered

Credite ought not to be given to thinges which stand nothinge with reason

The armie ought not to knowe what the Capitaine purposeth to doo

Diverse examples

IN THE SIXTE BOOKE

The maner how to incampe an armie

How brode the spaces and the wayes ought to be within the campe

What waye ought to be used when it is requiset to incampe nere the enemie

How the watche and warde ought to be apoincted in the campe, and what punishmente they ought to have that doo not their dutie

How the Romanies prohibited women to be in their armies and idell games to be used

How to incampe accordinge to the nomber of men, and what nomber of menne maie suffise againste, what so ever enemie that wer

How to doo to be assured, of the fideletie of those that are had in suspition

What a Capitaine ought to doo beinge beseged of his enemies

Example of Coriliano and others

It is requiset chiefly for a Capitain to kepe his souldiers punished and payed

Of aguries

Moste excellent advertismentes and pollicies

The occation of the overthrowe of the Frenchmen at Garigliano

IN THE SEVENTH BOOKE

Cities are strong, either by nature or by industrie

The maner of fortificacion

Bulwarkes ought not to be made oute of a towne distante from the same

Example of Genoa

Of the Countes Catherin

The fation of percullesies used in Almaine

Howe the battelmentes of walles were made at the first, and how thei are made now adaies

The provisions that is mete to bee made, for the defence of a towne

Divers pollicies, for the beseginge and defendinge of a toune or fortres

Secrete conveing of letters

The defence againste a breache

Generall rules of warre

THE FIRST BOOKE

Forasmuch as I beleve that after death, al men maie be praised without charge, al occasion and suspecte of flatterie beyng taken awaie, I shal not doubte to praise our Cosimo Ruchellay, whose name was never remembred of me without teares, havyng knowen in him those condicions, the whiche in a good frende or in a citezien, might of his freendes, or of his countrie, be desired: for that I doe not knowe what thyng was so muche his, not excepting any thing (saving his soule) which for his frendes willingly of him should not have been spent: I knowe not what enterprise should have made him afraide, where the same should have ben knowen to have been for the benefite of his countrie. And I doe painly confesse, not to have mette emongest so many men, as I have knowen, and practised withal, a man, whose minde was more inflamed then his, unto great and magnificent thynges. Nor he lamented not with his frendes of any thyng at his death, but because he was borne to die a yong manne within his owne house, before he had gotten honour, and accordynge to his desire, holpen any manne: for that he knewe, that of him coulde not be spoken other, savyng that there should be dead a good freende. Yet it resteth not for this, that we, and what so ever other that as we did know him, are not able to testifie (seeyng his woorkes doe not appere) of his lawdable qualities. True it is, that fortune was not for al this, so muche his enemie, that it left not some brief  record of the readinesse of his witte, as doeth declare certaine of his writinges, and settyng foorthe of amorous verses, wherin (although he were not in love) yet for that he would not consume time in vain, til unto profounder studies fortune should have brought him, in his youthfull age he exercised himselfe. Whereby moste plainly maie be comprehended, with how moche felicitie he did describe his conceiptes, and how moche for Poetrie he should have ben estemed, if the same for the ende therof, had of him ben exercised. Fortune having therfore deprived us from the use of so great a frende, me thinketh there can bee founde no other remedie, then as muche as is possible, to seke to enjoye the memorie of the same, and to repeate suche thynges as hath been of him either wittely saied, or wisely disputed. And for as much as there is nothyng of him more freshe, then the reasonyng, the whiche in his last daies Signior Fabricio Collonna, in his orchard had with him, where largely of the same gentilman were disputed matters of warre, bothe wittely and prudently, for the moste parte of Cosimo demaunded, I thought good, for that I was present there with certain other of our frendes, to bring it to memorie, so that reading the same, the frendes of Cosimo, whiche thether came, might renewe in their mindes, the remembraunce of his vertue: and the other part beyng sorie for their absence, might partly learne hereby many thynges profitable, not onely to the life of Souldiours, but also to civil mennes lives, which gravely of a moste wise man was disputed. Therfore I saie, that Fabricio Collonna retournyng out of Lombardie, where longe time greatly to his glorie, he had served in the warres the catholike kyng, he determined, passyng by Florence, to rest himself certain daies in the same citee, to visite the Dukes excellencie, and to see certaine gentilmen, whiche in times paste he had been acquainted withal. For whiche cause, unto Cosimo it was thought beste to bid him into his orchard, not so muche to use his liberalitee, as to have occasion to talke with him at leasure, and of him to understande and to learne divers thinges, accordyng as of suche a man maie bee hoped for,  semyng to have accasion to spende a daie in reasonyng of suche matters, which to his minde should best satisfie him. Then Fabricio came, accordyng to his desire, and was received of Cosimo together, with certain of his trustie frendes, emongest whome wer Zanoby Buondelmonti, Baptiste Palla, and Luigi Allamanni, all young men loved of him and of the very same studies moste ardente, whose good qualities, for as muche as every daie, and at every houre thei dooe praise themselves, we will omit. Fabricio was then accordyng to the time and place honoured, of all those honours, that thei could possible devise: But the bankettyng pleasures beyng passed, and the tabel taken up, and al preparacion of feastinges consumed, the which are sone at an ende in sight of greate men, who to honorable studies have their mindes set, the daie beyng longe, and the heate muche, Cosimo judged for to content better his desire, that it wer well doen, takyng occasion to avoide the heate, to bring him into the moste secret, and shadowest place of his garden. Where thei beyng come, and caused to sit, some upon herbes, some in the coldest places, other upon litle seates which there was ordeined, under the shadow of moste high trees, Fabricio praiseth the place, to be delectable, and particularly consideryng the trees, and not knowyng some of them, he did stande musinge in his minde, whereof Cosimo beeyng a ware saied, you have not peradventure ben acquainted with some of these sortes of trees: But doe not marvell at it, for as muche as there bee some, that were more estemed of the antiquitie, then thei are commonly now a daies: and he tolde him the names of them, and how Barnardo his graundfather did travaile in suche kinde of plantyng: Fabricio replied, I thought it shuld be the same you saie, and this place, and this studie, made me to remember certaine Princes of the Kyngdome of Naples, whiche of these anncient tillage and shadow doe delight. And staiyng upon this talke, and somewhat standyng in a studdie, saied moreover, if I thought I should not offende, I woud tell my opinion, but I beleeve I shall not, commonyng with friendes, and to dispute of thynges, and not to  condemne them. How much better thei should have doen (be it spoken without displeasure to any man) to have sought to been like the antiquitie in thinges strong, and sharpe, not in the delicate and softe: and in those that thei did in the Sunne, not in the shadowe: and to take the true and perfecte maners of the antiquitie: not those that are false and corrupted: for that when these studies pleased my Romaines, my countrie fell into ruin. Unto which Cosimo answered. But to avoide the tediousnesse to repeate so many times he saied, and the other answered, there shall be onely noted the names of those that speakes, without rehersing other.

Then COSIMO saied, you have opened the waie of a reasoning, which I have desired, and I praie you that you will speake withoute respecte, for that that I without respecte will aske you, and if I demaundyng, or repliyng shall excuse, or accuse any, it shal not be to excuse, or accuse, but to understande of you the truth.

FABRICIO. And I shall be very well contented to tell you that, whiche I understand of al the same that you shall aske me, the whiche if it shall be true, or no, I wil report me to your judgemente: and I will be glad that you aske me, for that I am to learne, as well of you in askyng me, as you of me in aunswerynge you: for as muche as many times a wise demaunder, maketh one to consider many thynges, and to knowe many other, whiche without havyng been demaunded, he should never have knowen.

COSIMO. I will retourne to thesame, that you said first, that my graundfather and those your Princes, should have doen more wisely, to have resembled the antiquitie in hard thinges, then in the delicate, and I will excuse my parte, for that, the other I shall leave to excuse for you. I doe not beleve that in his tyme was any manne, that so moche detested the livyng in ease, as he did, and that so moche was a lover of the same hardenesse of life, whiche you praise: notwithstandyng he knewe not how to bee able in persone, nor in those of his sonnes to use it, beeyng borne in so corrupte a worlde, where one that would digresse from the common use, should  bee infamed and disdained of every man: consideryng that if one in the hottest day of Summer being naked, should wallowe hymself upon the Sande, or in Winter in the moste coldest monethes upon the snowe, as Diogenes did, he should be taken as a foole. If one, (as the Spartans were wonte to doe) should nourishe his children in a village, makyng them to slepe in the open aire, to go with hedde and feete naked, to washe them selves in the colde water for to harden them, to be able to abide moche paine, and for to make theim to love lesse life, and to feare lesse death, he should be scorned, and soner taken as a wilde beast, then as a manne. If there wer seen also one, to nourishe himself with peason and beanes, and to despise gold, as Fabricio doeth, he should bee praised of fewe, and followed of none: so that he being afraied of this present maner of livyng, he left thauncient facions, and thesame, that he could with lest admiracion imitate in the antiquitie, he did.

FABRICIO. You have excused it in this parte mooste strongly: and surely you saie the truthe: but I did not speake so moche of this harde maner of livyng, as of other maners more humaine, and whiche have with the life now a daies greater conformitie. The whiche I doe not beleve, that it hath been difficulte to bryng to passe unto one, who is nombred emongest Princes of a citee: for the provyng whereof, I will never seke other, then thexample of the Romaines. Whose lives, if thei wer well considred, and thorders of thesame common weale, there should therin be seen many thinges, not impossible to induce into a cominaltie, so that it had in her any good thing.

COSIMO. What thynges are those, that you would induce like unto the antiquitie.

FABRICIO. To honour, and to reward vertue, not to despise povertie, to esteme the maners and orders of warfare, to constrain the citezeins to love one an other, to live without sectes, to esteme lesse the private, than the publike, and other like thinges, that easily might bee with this time accompanied: the which maners ar not difficult to bring to passe, when a man should wel consider them, and entre  therin by due meanes: for asmoche as in thesame, the truth so moche appereth, that every common wit, maie easely perceive it: which thing, who that ordeineth, doth plant trees, under the shadowe wherof, thei abide more happie, and more pleasantly, then under these shadowes of this goodly gardeine.

COSIMO. I will not speake any thyng againste thesame that you have saied, but I will leave it to bee judged of these, whom easely can judge, and I will tourne my communicacion to you, that is an accusar of theim, the whiche in grave, and greate doynges, are not followers of the antiquitie, thinkyng by this waie more easely to be in my entent satisfied. Therfore, I would knowe of you whereof it groweth, that of the one side you condempne those, that in their doynges resemble not the antiquitie? Of the other, in the warre, whiche is your art, wherin you are judged excellent, it is not seen, that you have indevoured your self, to bryng the same to any soche ende, or any thyng at all resembled therein the auncient maners.

FABRICIO. You are happened upon the poincte, where I loked: for that my talke deserved no other question: nor I desired other: and albeit that I could save my self with an easie excuse, not withstandyng for my more contentacion, and yours, seyng that the season beareth it, I will enter in moche longer reasoning. Those men, whiche will enterprise any thyng, ought firste with all diligence to prepare theim selves, to be ready and apte when occasion serveth, to accomplish that, which thei have determined to worke: and for that when the preparacions are made craftely, thei are not knowen, there cannot be accused any man of any negligence, if firste it be not disclosed by thoccasion: in the which working not, is after seen, either that there is not prepared so moche as suffiseth, or that there hath not been of any part therof thought upon. And for as moche as to me there is not come any occasion to be able, to shewe the preparacions made of me, to reduce the servise of warre into his auncient orders, if I have not reduced it, I cannot be of you, nor of other blamed: I  beleve this excuse shuld suffise for answere to your accusement.

COSIMO. It should suffice, when I wer certain, that thoccasion were not come.

FABRICIO. But for that I know, that you maie doubt whether this occasion hath been cum, or no, I will largely (when you with pacience will heare me) discourse what preparacions are necessary first to make, what occasion muste growe, what difficultie doeth let, that the preparacions help not, and why thoccasion cannot come, and how these things at ones, which some contrary endes, is most difficill, and most easie to do.

COSIMO. You cannot do bothe to me, and unto these other, a thing more thankfull then this. And if to you it shall not be tedious to speake, unto us it shal never be grevous to heare: but for asmoch as this reasonyng ought to be long, I will with your license take helpe of these my frendes: and thei, and I praie you of one thyng, that is, that you will not bee greved, if some tyme with some question of importaunce, we interrupte you.

Why a good man ought never to use the exercise of armes, as his art.

FABRICIO. I am moste well contented, that you Cosimo with these other younge men here, doe aske me: for that I beleve, that youthfulnes, will make you lovers of warlike thinges, and more easie to beleve thesame, that of me shalbe saied. These other, by reason of havyng nowe their hedde white, and for havyng upon their backes their bloude congeled, parte of theim are wonte to bee enemies of warre, parte uncorrectable, as those, whom beleve, that tymes, and not the naughtie maners, constraine men to live thus: so that safely aske you all of me, and without respecte: the whiche I desire, as well, for that it maie be unto me a little ease, as also for that I shall have pleasure, not to leave in your mynde any doubt. I will begin at your woordes, where you saied unto me, that in the warre, that is my arte, I had not indevoured to bryng it to any aunciente ende: whereupon I saie, as this beyng an arte, whereby men of no maner of age can live honestly, it cannot bee used for an arte, but of a common weale: or of a kyngdome: and the one and the other of these, when thei bee well ordeined, will never  consente to any their Citezeins, or Subjectes, to use it for any arte, nor never any good manne doeth exercise it for his particulare arte: for as moche as good he shall never bee judged, whom maketh an excersise thereof, where purposing alwaies to gaine thereby, it is requisite for hym to be ravenyng, deceiptfull, violente, and to have many qualities, the whiche of necessitie maketh hym not good: nor those menne cannot, whiche use it for an arte, as well the greate as the leaste, bee made otherwise: for that this arte doeth not nourishe them in peace. Wherfore thei ar constrained either to thinke that there is no peace, or so moche to prevaile in the tyme of warre, that in peace thei maie bee able to kepe them selves: and neither of these two thoughtes happeneth in a good man: for that in mindyng to bee able to finde himself at all tymes, dooe growe robberies, violence, slaughters, whiche soche souldiours make as well to the frendes, as to the enemies: and in mindyng not to have peace, there groweth deceiptes, whiche the capitaines use to those, whiche hire them, to the entent the warre maie continue, and yet though the peace come often, it happeneth that the capitaines beyng deprived of their stipendes, and of their licencious livyng, thei erecte an ansigne of adventures, and without any pitie thei put to sacke a province. Have not you in memorie of your affaires, how that beyng many Souldiours in Italie without wages, bicause the warre was ended, thei assembled together many companies, and went taxyng the tounes, and sackyng the countrie, without beyng able to make any remedie? Have you not red, that the Carthagenes souldiours, the first warre beyng ended which thei had with the Romaines, under Matho, and Spendio, twoo capitaines, rebelliously constituted of theim, made more perillous warre to the Carthaginens, then thesame whiche thei had ended with the Romaines? In the time of our fathers, Frances Sforza, to the entente to bee able to live honourably in the time of peace, not only beguiled the Millenars, whose souldiour he was, but he toke from them their libertie and became their Prince. Like unto him hath been all the other souldiours  of Italie whiche have used warfare, for their particulare arte, and albeeit thei have not through their malignitie becomen Dukes of Milein, so moche the more thei deserve to bee blamed: for that although thei have not gotten so moch as he, thei have all (if their lives wer seen) sought to bring the like thynges to passe. Sforza father of Fraunces, constrained Quene Jone, to caste her self into the armes of the king of Aragon, havyng in a sodain forsaken her, and in the middest of her enemies, lefte her disarmed, onely to satisfie his ambicion, either in taxyng her, or in takyng from her the Kyngdome. Braccio with the verie same industrie, sought to possesse the kyngdome of Naples, and if he had not been overthrowen and slaine at Aquila, he had brought it to passe. Like disorders growe not of other, then of soche men as hath been, that use the exercise of warfare, for their proper arte. Have not you a Proverbe, whiche fortefieth my reasons, whiche saieth, that warre maketh Theves, and peace hangeth theim up? For as moche as those, whiche knowe not how to live of other exercise, and in the same finding not enie man to sustayne theym, and havyng not so moche power, to knowe how to reduce theim selves together, to make an open rebellion, they are constrayned of necessetie to Robbe in the highe waies, and Justice is enforced to extinguishe theim.

COSIMO. You have made me to esteme this arte of warfare almoste as nothyng, and I have supposed it the moste excellentes, and moste honourableste that hath been used: so that if you declare me it not better, I cannot remaine satisfied: For that when it is thesame, that you saie, I knowe not, whereof groweth the glorie of Cesar, of Pompei, of Scipio, of Marcello, and of so many Romaine Capitaines, whiche by fame are celebrated as Goddes.

FABRICIO. I have not yet made an ende of disputyng al thesame, that I purposed to propounde: whiche were twoo thynges, the one, that a good manne could not use this exercise for his arte: the other, that a common weale or a kingdome well governed, did never permitte, that their Subjectes or Citezeins should use it for an arte. Aboute the  firste, I have spoken as moche as hath comen into my mynde: there remaineth in me to speake of the seconde where I woll come to aunswere to this your laste question, and I saie that Pompey and Cesar, and almoste all those Capitaines, whiche were at Rome, after the laste Carthagenens warre, gotte fame as valiaunt men, not as good, and those whiche lived before them, gotte glorie as valiaunte and good menne: the whiche grewe, for that these tooke not the exercise of warre for their arte: and those whiche I named firste, as their arte did use it. And so longe as the common weale lived unspotted, never any noble Citezein would presume, by the meane of soche exercise, to availe thereby in peace, breakyng the lawes, spoilyng the Provinces, usurpyng, and plaiyng the Tyraunte in the countrie, and in every maner prevailyng: nor any of how lowe degree so ever thei were, would goe aboute to violate the Religion, confederatyng theim selves with private men, not to feare the Senate, or to followe any tirannicall insolence, for to bee able to live with the arte of warre in all tymes. But those whiche were Capitaines, contented with triumphe, with desire did tourne to their private life, and those whiche were membres, would be more willyng to laie awaie their weapons, then to take them, and every manne tourned to his science, whereby thei gotte their livyng: Nor there was never any, that would hope with praie, and with this arte, to be able to finde theim selves. Of this there maie be made concernyng Citezeins, moste evidente conjecture, by the ensample of Regolo Attillio, who beyng Capitain of the Romaine armies in Affrica, and havyng as it wer overcome the Carthegenens, he required of the Senate, licence to retourne home, to kepe his possessions, and told them, that thei were marde of his housbandmen. Whereby it is more clere then the Sunne, that if thesame manne had used the warre as his arte, and by meanes thereof, had purposed to have made it profitable unto him, havyng in praie so many Provinces, he would not have asked license, to returne to kepe his feldes: for as moche as every daie he might otherwise, have gotten moche more, then the value of al those possessions: but bicause  these good men and soche as use not the warre for their arte, will not take of thesame any thing then labour, perilles, and gloris, when thei are sufficiently glorious, thei desire to returne home, and to live of their owne science. Concernyng menne of lowe degree, and common souldiours, to prove that thei kepte the verie same order, it doeth appeare that every one willingly absented theim selves from soche exercise, and when thei served not in the warre, thei would have desired to serve, and when thei did serve, thei would have desired leave not to have served: whiche is wel knowen through many insamples, and inespecially seeyng how emonge the firste privileges, whiche the Romaine people gave to their Citezeins was, that thei should not be constrained against their willes, to serve in the warres. Therefore Rome so long as it was well governed, whiche was untill the commyng of Graccus, it had not any Souldiour that would take this exercise for an arte, and therefore it had fewe naughtie, and those few wer severely punished. Then a citee well governed, ought to desire, that this studie of warre, be used in tyme of peace for exercise, and in the time of warre, for necessitie and for glorie: and to suffer onely the common weale to use it for an arte, as Rome did, and what so ever Citezein, that hath in soche exercise other ende, is not good, and what so ever citee is governed otherwise, is not well ordeined.

COSIMO. I remain contented enough and satisfied of thesame, whiche hetherto you have told, and this conclusion pleaseth me verie wel whiche you have made, and as muche as is loked for touching a common welth, I beleve that it is true, but concerning Kinges, I can not tell nowe, for that I woulde beleve that a Kinge would have about him, whome particularly should take suche exercise for his arte.

FABRICIO. A kingdome well ordred ought moste of all to avoide the like kinde of men, for only thei, are the destruction of their king, and all together ministers of tiranny, and alledge me not to the contrarie anie presente kingdome, for that I woll denie you all those to be kingdomes well ordered, bicause the kingdomes whiche have  good orders, give not their absolute Empire unto their king, saving in the armies, for as much as in this place only, a quicke deliberation is necessarie, and for this cause a principall power ought to be made. In the other affaires, he ought not to doe any thing without councell, and those are to be feared, which councell him, leaste he have some aboute him which in time of peace desireth to have warre bicause they are not able without the same to live, but in this, I wilbe a little more large: neither to seke a kingdome altogether good, but like unto those whiche be nowe a daies where also of a king those ought to be feared, whiche take the warre for theire art, for that the strength of armies without any doubte are the foote menne: so that if a king take not order in suche wise, that his men in time of peace may be content to returne home, and to live of their owne trades, it will follow of necessitie, that he ruinate: for that there is not found more perilous men, then those, whiche make the warre as their arte: bicause in such case, a king is inforsed either alwaies to make warre, or to paie them alwaies, or else to bee in perill, that they take not from him his kingdome. To make warre alwaies, it is not possible: to paie them alwaies it can not be: see that of necessitie, he runneth in peril to lese the state. The Romaines (as I have saide) so long as they were wise and good, would never permitte, that their Citizeins should take this exercise for their arte, although they were able to nurrishe them therin alwaies, for that that alwaies they made warre: but to avoide thesame hurte, whiche this continuall exercise might doe them, seyng the time did not varie, they changed the men, and from time to time toke such order with their legions, that in xv. yeres alwaies, they renewed them: and so thei had their men in the floure of their age, that is from xviij. to xxxiij. yeres, in which time the legges, the handes, and the yes answere the one the other, nor thei tarried not till there strengthe should decaie, and there naghtines increase, as it did after in the corrupted times. For as muche as Octavian first, and after Tiberius, minding more their own proper power, then the publicke profite, began to  unarme the Romaine people, to be able easely to commaunde them, and to kepe continually those same armies on the frontries of the Empire: and bicause also they judged those, not sufficient to kepe brideled the people and Romaine Senate, they ordeined an armie called Pretoriano, which laie harde by the walles of Rome, and was as a rocke on the backe of the same Citie. And for as much as then thei began frely to permitte, that suche men as were apoincted in suche exercises, should use the service of warre for their arte, streight waie the insolence of theim grewe, that they became fearful unto the Senate, and hurtefull to the Emperour, whereby ensued suche harme, that manie were slaine thorough there insolensie: for that they gave, and toke awaie the Empire, to whome they thought good. And some while it hapned, that in one self time there were manie Emperours, created of divers armies, of whiche thinges proceded first the devision of the Empire, and at laste the ruine of the same. Therefore kinges ought, if thei wil live safely, to have there souldiours made of men, who when it is time to make warre, willingly for his love will go to the same, and when the peace cometh after, more willingly will returne home. Whiche alwaies wilbe, when thei shalbe men that know how to live of other arte then this: and so they ought to desire, peace beyng come, that there Prince doo tourne to governe their people, the gentilmen to the tending of there possessions, and the common souldiours to their particular arte, and everie one of these, to make warre to have peace, and not to seke to trouble the peace, to have warre.

COSIMO. Truely this reasonyng of yours, I thinke to bee well considered, notwithstanding beyng almost contrarie to that, whiche till nowe I have thought, my minde as yet doeth not reste purged of all doubte, for as muche as I see manie Lordes and gentelmen, to finde them selves in time of peace, thorough the studies of warre, as your matches bee, who have provision of there princes, and of the cominaltie. I see also, almost al the gentelmen of armes, remaine with neir provision, I see manie souldiours lie in garison of Cities  and fortresses, so that my thinkes, that there is place in time of peace, for everie one.

FABRICIO. I doe not beleve that you beleve this, that in time of peace everie man may have place, bicause, put case that there coulde not be brought other reason, the small number, that all they make, whiche remaine in the places alledged of you, would answer you. What proporcion have the souldiours, whiche are requiset to bee in the warre with those, whiche in the peace are occupied? For as much as the fortreses, and the cities that be warded in time of peace, in the warre are warded muche more, unto whome are joyned the souldiours, whiche kepe in the fielde, whiche are a great number, all whiche in the peace be putte awaie. And concerning the garde of states, whiche are a small number, Pope July, and you have shewed to everie man, how muche are to be feared those, who will not learne to exercise any other art, then the warre, and you have for there insolence, deprived them from your garde, and have placed therin Swisers, as men borne and brought up under lawes, and chosen of the cominaltie, according to the true election: so that saie no more, that in peace is place for everie man. Concerning men at armes, thei al remaining in peace with their wages, maketh this resolution to seme more difficulte: notwithstandyng who considereth well all, shall finde the answere easie, bicause this manner of keping men of armes, is a corrupted manner and not good, the occasion is, for that they be men, who make thereof an arte, and of them their should grow every daie a thousande inconveniencies in the states, where thei should be, if thei were accompanied of sufficient company: but beyng fewe, and not able by them selves to make an armie, they cannot often doe suche grevous hurtes, neverthelesse they have done oftentimes: as I have said of Frances, and of Sforza his father, and of Braccio of Perugia: so that this use of keping men of armes, I doe not alowe, for it is a corrupte maner, and it may make great inconveniencies.

COSIMO. Woulde you live without them? or keping them, how would you kepe them?

A kinge that hath about him any that are to much lovers of warre, or to much lovers of peace shal cause him to erre.

FABRICIO. By waie of ordinaunce, not like to those of the king of Fraunce: for as muche as they be perilous, and insolent like unto ours, but I would kepe them like unto those of the auncient Romaines, whom created their chivalry of their own subjectes, and in peace time, thei sente them home unto their houses, to live of their owne trades, as more largely before this reasoning ende, I shal dispute. So that if now this part of an armie, can live in such exercise, as wel when it is peace, it groweth of the corrupt order. Concerning the provisions, which are reserved to me, and to other capitaines, I saie unto you, that this likewise is an order moste corrupted: for as much as a wise common weale, ought not to give such stipendes to any, but rather thei ought to use for Capitaines in the warre, their Citezeins, and in time of peace to will, that thei returne to their occupations. Likewise also, a wise king either ought not to give to suche, or giving any, the occasion ought to be either for rewarde of some worthy dede, or else for the desire to kepe suche a kinde of man, as well in peace as in warre. And bicause you alledged me, I will make ensample upon my self, and saie that I never used the warre as an arte, for as muche as my arte, is to governe my subjectes, and to defende them, and to be able to defende them, to love peace, and to know how to make warre, and my kinge not so muche to rewarde and esteeme me, for my knowledge in the warre, as for the knowledge that I have to councel him in peace. Then a king ought not to desire to have about him, any that is not of this condicion if he be wise, and prudently minde to governe: for that, that if he shal have about him either to muche lovers of peace, or to much lovers of warre, they shall make him to erre. I cannot in this my firste reasoning, and according to my purpose saie more, and when this suffiseth you not, it is mete, you seke of them that may satisfie you better. You maie now verie well understand, how difficulte it is to bringe in use the auncient maners in the presente warres, and what preparations are mete for a wise man to make, and what occasions ought to be loked for, to be able to execute it. But by and by, you shall  know these things better, if this reasoning make you not werie, conferring what so ever partes of the auncient orders hath ben, to the maners nowe presente.

COSIMO. If we desired at the first to here your reason of these thinges, truly thesame whiche hetherto you have spoken, hath doubled our desire: wherefore we thanke you for that we have hard, and the rest, we crave of you to here.

FABRICIO. Seyng that it is so your pleasure, I will begin to intreate of this matter from the beginning, to the intent it maye be better understode, being able by thesame meane, more largely to declare it. The ende of him that wil make warre, is to be able to fight with every enemy in the fielde and to be able to overcum an armie. To purpose to doe this, it is convenient to ordeine an hoost. To ordein an hoost, their must be found menne, armed, ordered, and as well in the small, as in the great orders exercised, to knowe howe to kepe araie, and to incampe, so that after bringing them unto the enemie, either standing or marching, they maie know how to behave themselves valiantly. In this thing consisteth all the industrie of the warre on the lande, whiche is the most necessarie, and the most honorablest, for he that can wel order a fielde against the enemie, the other faultes that he should make in the affaires of warre, wilbe borne with: but he that lacketh this knowledge, although that in other particulars he be verie good, he shal never bring a warre to honor: for as muche as a fielde that thou winnest, lesing? img 94 doeth cancell all other thy evill actes: so like wise lesing it, all thinges well done of thee before, remaine vaine. Therfore, beyng necessarie first to finde the menne, it is requiset to come to the choise of them. They whiche unto the warre have given rule, will that the menne be chosen out of temperate countries, to the intente they may have hardines, and prudence, for as muche as the hote countrey, bredes prudente men and not hardy, the colde, hardy, and not prudente. This rule is good to be geven, to one that were prince of all the world, bicause it is lawfull for him to choose men out of those places, whiche he shall thinke beste. But minding to give a rule, that every one may use, it is mete to  declare, that everie common weale, and every kingdome, ought to choose their souldiours out of their owne countrie, whether it be hote, colde, or temperate: for that it is scene by olde ensamples, how that in every countrie with exercise, their is made good souldiours: bicause where nature lacketh, the industry supplieth, the which in this case is worthe more, then nature, and taking them in other places, you shal not have of the choise, for choise is as much to saie, as the best of a province, and to have power to chuse those that will not, as well as those that wil serve. Wherfore, you muste take your choise in those places, that are subjecte unto you, for that you cannot take whome you liste, in the countries that are not yours, but you muste take suche as will goe with you.

COSIMO. Yet there maie bee of those, that will come, taken and lefte, and therefore, thei maie be called chosen.

Oute of what Countrie is best to chuse Souldiours to make a good election.

FABUICIO. You saie the truthe in a certaine maner, but consider the faultes, whiche soche a chosen manne hath in himselfe, for that also many times it hapneth, that he is not a chosen manne. For those that are not thy subjectes, and whiche willyngly doe serve, are not of the beste, but rather of the worste of a Province, for as moche as if any be sclanderous, idell, unruly, without Religion, fugetive from the rule of their fathers, blasphemours, Dise plaiers, in every condicion evill brought up, bee those, whiche will serve, whose customes cannot be more contrarie, to a true and good servise: Albeit, when there bee offered unto you, so many of soche men, as come to above the nomber, that you have appoincted, you maie chuse them: but the matter beyng naught, the choise is not possible to be good: also, many times it chaunceth, that thei be not so many, as will make up the nomber, whereof you have nede, so that beyng constrained to take them al, it commeth to passe, that thei cannot then bee called chosen men, but hired Souldiours. With this disorder the armies of Italie, are made now a daies, and in other places, except in Almaine, bicause there thei doe not hire any by commaundemente of the Prince, but accordyng to the will of them, that are disposed to serve.  Then consider now, what maners of those aunciente armies, maie bee brought into an armie of men, put together by like waies.

COSIMO. What waie ought to bee used then?

FABRICIO. The same waie that I saied, to chuse them of their owne subjectes, and with the auethoritie of the Prince.

COSMO. In the chosen, shall there bee likewise brought in any auncient facion?

FABRICIO. You know well enough that ye: when he that should commaunde theim, were their Prince, or ordinarie lorde, whether he were made chief, or as a Citezein, and for the same tyme Capitaine, beyng a common weale, otherwise it is harde to make any thyng good.

COSIMO. Why?

FABRICIO. I will tell you a nane: For this time I will that this suffise you, that it cannot be wrought well by other waie.

Whether it be better to take menne oute of townes or out of the countrie to serve.

COSIMO. Having then to make this choyse of men in their owne countries, whether judge you that it be better to take them oute of the citie, or out of the countrie?

FABRICIO. Those that have written of such matters, doe all agree, that it is best to chuse them out of the countrie, being men accustomed to no ease, nurished in labours, used to stonde in the sunne, to flie the shadow, knowing how to occupy the spade, to make a diche, to carrie a burden, and to bee without any deceite, and without malisiousnes. But in this parte my opinion should be, that beyng two sortes of souldiours, on foote, and on horsebacke, that those on foote, should be chosen out of the countrie, and those on horseback, oute of the Cities.

Of what age Souldiours ought to bee chosen.

COSIMO. Of what age would you choose them?

FABRICIO. I would take them, when I had to make a newe armie, from xvii. to xl. yeres: when it were made alredy, and I had to restore them, of xvii. alwaies.

COSIMO. I doe not understonde well this distinction.

FABRICIO. I shall tell you: when I should ordaine an hooste to make warre, where were no hooste alredy, it  should be necessarie to chuse all those men, which were most fitte and apte for the warre, so that they were of servisable age, that I might bee able to instructe theim, as by me shalbe declared: but when I would make my choise of menne in places, where a powre were alredy prepared, for suppliyng of thesame, I would take them of xvii. yeres: for as much as the other of more age be alredy chosen and apoincted.

COSIMO. Then woulde you prepare a power like to those whiche is in our countrie?

FABRICIO. Ye truly, it is so that I would arme them, Captaine them, exercise and order them in a maner, whiche I cannot tell, if you have ordred them so.

COSIMO. Then do you praise the keping of order?

FABRICIO. Wherefore would you that I should dispraise it?

COSIMO. Bicause many wise menne have alwaies blamed it.

FABRICIO. You speake against all reason, to saie that a wise man blameth order, he maie bee well thought wise, and be nothyng so.

COSIMO. The naughtie profe, which it hath alwaies, maketh us to have soche opinion thereof.

FABRICIO. Take hede it be not your fault, and not the kepyng of order, the whiche you shall knowe, before this reasonyng be ended.

COSIMO. You shall doe a thyng moste thankfull, yet I will saie concernyng thesame, that thei accuse it, to the entente you maie the better justifie it. Thei saie thus, either it is unprofitable, and we trustyng on the same, shall make us to lese our state, or it shall be verteous, and by thesame meane, he that governeth may easely deprive us thereof. Thei alledge the Romaines, who by meane of their owne powers, loste their libertie. Thei alledge the Venicians, and the Frenche king, whiche Venicians, bicause thei will not be constrained, to obeie one of their owne Citezeins, use the power of straungers: and the Frenche kyng hath disarmed his people, to be able more easely to commaunde them, but thei whiche like not the ordinaunces, feare moche more the unprofitablenesse, that thei suppose maie insue  thereby, then any thyng els: the one cause whiche thei allege is, bicause thei are unexperte: The other, for that thei have to serve par force: for asmoche as thei saie, that the aged bee not so dissiplinable, nor apte to learne the feate of armes, and that by force, is doen never any thyng good.

By what meanes souldiours bee made bolde and experte.

FABRICIO. All these reasons that you have rehearsed, be of men, whiche knoweth the thyng full little, as I shall plainly declare. And firste, concernyng the unprofitablenesse, I tell you, that there is no service used in any countrie more profitable, then the service by the Subjectes of thesame nor thesame service cannot bee prepared, but in this maner: and for that this nedeth not to be disputed of, I will not lese moche tyme: bicause al thensamples of auncient histores, make for my purpose, and for that thei alledge the lacke of experience, and to use constraint: I saie how it is true, that the lacke of experience, causeth lacke of courage, and constrainte, maketh evill contentacion: but courage, and experience thei are made to gette, with the maner of armyng theim, exercisyng, and orderyng theim, as in proceadyng of this reasonyng, you shall heare. But concernyng constrainte, you ought to understande, that the menne, whiche are conducted to warfare, by commaundement of their Prince, thei ought to come, neither altogether forced, nor altogether willyngly, for as moche as to moche willyngnesse, would make thinconveniencies, where I told afore, that he should not be a chosen manne, and those would be fewe that would go: and so to moche constraint, will bring forth naughtie effectes. Therefore, a meane ought to be taken, where is not all constrainte, nor all willingnesse: but beyng drawen of a respecte, that thei have towardes their Prince, where thei feare more the displeasure of thesame, then the presente paine: and alwaies it shall happen to be a constrainte, in maner mingled with willingnesse, that there cannot growe soche evil contentacion, that it make evill effectes. Yet I saie not for all this, that it cannot bee overcome, for that full many tymes, were overcome the Romaine armies, and the armie of Aniball was overcome, so that it is seen, that an armie cannot be ordained so sure, that it cannot be overthrowen.  Therefore, these your wise men, ought not to measure this unprofitablenesse, for havyng loste ones, but to beleve, that like as thei lese, so thei maie winne, and remeadie the occasion of the losse: and when thei shall seke this thei shall finde, that it hath not been through faulte of the waie, but of the order, whiche had not his perfeccion and as I have saied, thei ought to provide, not with blamyng the order, but with redressing it, the whiche how it ought to be doen, you shall understande, from poinct to poinct. Concernyng the doubte, leste soche ordinaunces, take not from thee thy state, by meane of one, whiche is made hedde therof, I answere, that the armure on the backes of citezeins, or subjectes, given by the disposicion of order and lawe, did never harme, but rather alwaies it doeth good, and mainteineth the citee, moche lenger in suretie, through helpe of this armure, then without. Rome continued free CCCC. yeres, and was armed. Sparta viii.C. Many other citees have been disarmed, and have remained free, lesse then xl. For as moche as citees have nede of defence, and when thei have no defence of their owne, thei hire straungers, and the straunges defence, shall hurte moche soner the common weale, then their owne: bicause thei be moche easier to be corrupted, and a citezein that becommeth mightie, maie moche soner usurpe, and more easely bryng his purpose to passe, where the people bee disarmed, that he seketh to oppresse: besides this, a citee ought to feare a greate deale more, twoo enemies then one. Thesame citee that useth straungers power, feareth at one instant the straunger, whiche it hireth, and the Citezein: and whether this feare ought to be, remember thesame, whiche I rehearsed a little a fore of Frances Sforza. That citee, whiche useth her own proper power, feareth no man, other then onely her owne Citezein. But for all the reasons that maie bee saied, this shall serve me, that never any ordeined any common weale, or Kyngdome, that would not thinke, that thei theim selves, that inhabite thesame, should with their sweardes defende it.

And if the Venicians had been so wise in this, as in all  their other orders, thei should have made a new Monarchie in the world, whom so moche the more deserve blame, havyng been armed of their first giver of lawes: for havyng no dominion on the lande, thei wer armed on the sea, where thei made their warre vertuously, and with weapons in their handes, increased their countrie. But when thei were driven to make warre on the lande, to defende Vicenza, where thei ought to have sent one of their citezens, to have fought on the lande, thei hired for their capitain, the Marques of Mantua: this was thesame foolishe acte, whiche cut of their legges, from climyng into heaven, and from enlargyng their dominion: and if thei did it, bicause thei beleved that as thei knewe, how to make warre on the Sea, so thei mistrusted theim selves, to make it on the lande, it was a mistruste not wise: for as moche as more easely, a capitain of the sea, whiche is used to fight with the windes, with the water, and with men, shall become a Capitaine of the lande, where he shall fight with men onely, then a capitaine of the lande, to become a capitain of the sea. The Romanies knowyng how to fight on the lande, and on the sea, commyng to warre, with the Carthaginens, whiche were mightie on the sea, hired not Grekes, or Spaniardes, accustomed to the sea, but thei committed thesame care, to their Citezeins, whiche thei sent on the land, and thei overcame. If thei did it, for that one of their citezeins should not become a tiraunt, it was a feare smally considered: for that besides thesame reasons, whiche to this purpose, a little afore I have rehearsed, if a Citezein with the powers on the sea, was never made a tiraunt in a citee standyng in the sea, so moche the lesse he should have been able to accomplishe this with the powers of the lande: whereby thei ought to se that the weapons in the handes of their Citezeins, could not make tirantes: but the naughtie orders of the governement, whiche maketh tirannie in a citee, and thei havyng good governement, thei nede not to feare their owne weapons: thei toke therefore an unwise waie, the whiche hath been occasion, to take from them moche glorie, and moche felicitie. Concernyng the erroure, whiche the kyng of Fraunce committeth  not kepyng instructed his people in the warre, the whiche those your wise men alledge for ensample, there is no man, (his particulare passions laied a side) that doeth not judge this fault, to be in thesame kyngdome, and this negligence onely to make hym weake. But I have made to greate a digression, and peradventure am come out of my purpose, albeit I have doen it to aunswere you, and to shewe you, that in no countrie, there can bee made sure foundacion, for defence in other powers but of their owne subjectes: and their own power, cannot be prepared otherwise, then by waie of an ordinaunce, nor by other waie, to induce the facion of an armie in any place, nor by other meane to ordein an instruction of warfare. If you have red the orders, whiche those first kynges made in Rome, and inespecially Servio Tullo, you shall finde that the orders of the Classi is no other, then an ordinaunce, to bee able at a sodaine, to bryng together an armie, for defence of thesame citee. But let us retourne to our choise, I saie againe, that havyng to renewe an olde order, I would take them of xvii. havyng to make a newe armie, I would take them of all ages, betwene xvii. and xl. to be able to warre straight waie.

Of what science soldiours ought to bee chosen.

COSIMO. Would you make any difference, of what science you would chuse them?

FABRICIO. The aucthours, which have written of the arte of warre, make difference, for that thei will not, that there bee taken Foulers, Fishers, Cookes, baudes, nor none that use any science of voluptuousnesse. But thei will, that there bee taken Plowmen, Ferrars, Smithes, Carpenters, Buchars, Hunters, and soche like: but I would make little difference, through conjecture of the science, concernyng the goodnesse of the man, notwithstandyng, in as moche as to be able with more profite to use theim, I would make difference, and for this cause, the countrie men, which are used to till the grounde, are more profitable then any other. Next to whom be Smithes, Carpentars, Ferrars, Masons, wherof it is profitable to have enough: for that their occupacions, serve well in many thynges: beyng a thyng verie good to have a souldiour, of whom maie be had double servise.

Howe to chose a souldiour.

COSIMO. Wherby doe thei knowe those, that be, or are not sufficient to serve.

FABRICIO. I will speake of the maner of chusing a new ordinaunce, to make an armie after, for that parte of this matter, doeth come also to be reasoned of, in the election, which should be made for the replenishing, or restoring of an old ordinaunce. I saie therfore, that the goodnesse of one, whiche thou muste chuse for a Souldiour, is knowen either by experience, thorough meane of some of his worthy doynges, or by conjecture. The proofe of vertue, cannot be founde in men whiche are chosen of newe, and whiche never afore have ben chosen, and of these are founde either fewe or none, in the ordinaunce that of newe is ordeined. It is necessarie therefore, lackyng this experience, to runne to the conjecture, whiche is taken by the yeres, by the occupacion, and by the personage: of those two first, hath been reasoned, there remaineth to speake of the thirde. And therefore, I saie how some have willed, that the souldiour bee greate, emongest whom was Pirrus. Some other have chosen theim onely, by the lustinesse of the body, as Cesar did: whiche lustinesse of bodie and mynde, is conjectured by the composicion of the members, and of the grace of the countenaunce: and therefore, these that write saie, that thei would have the iyes lively and cherefull, the necke full of sinowes, the breaste large, the armes full of musculles, the fingers long, little beallie, the flankes rounde, the legges and feete drie: whiche partes are wont alwayes to make a manne nimble and strong, whiche are twoo thynges, that in a souldiour are sought above al other. Regarde ought to bee had above all thynges, to his customes, and that in hym bee honestie, and shame: otherwise, there shall bee chosen an instrumente of mischief, and a beginnyng of corrupcion: for that lette no manne beleve that in the dishoneste educacion, and filthy minde, there maie take any vertue, whiche is in any parte laudable. And I thinke it not superfluous, but rather I beleve it to bee necessarie, to the entente you maie the better understande, the importaunce of this chosen, to tell  you the maner that the Romaine Consuls, in the beginnyng of their rule, observed in the chosing of their Romain legions: in the whiche choise of men, bicause thesame legions were mingled with old souldiours and newe, consideryng the continuall warre thei kepte, thei might in their choise procede, with the experince of the old, and with the conjecture of the newe: and this ought to be noted, that these men be chosen, either to serve incontinently, or to exercise theim incontinently, and after to serve when nede should require. But my intencion is to shew you, how an armie maie be prepared in the countrie, where there is no warlike discipline: in which countrie, chosen men cannot be had, to use them straight waie, but there, where the custome is to levie armies, and by meane of the Prince, thei maie then well bee had, as the Romaines observed, and as is observed at this daie emong the Suisers: bicause in these chosen, though there be many newe menne, there be also so many of the other olde Souldiours, accustomed to serve in the warlike orders, where the newe mingled together with the olde, make a bodie united and good, notwithstanding, that themperours after, beginning the staciones of ordinarie Souldiours, had appoincted over the newe souldiours, whiche were called tironi, a maister to exercise theim, as appeareth in the life of Massimo the Emperour. The whiche thyng, while Rome was free, not onely in the armies, but in the citee was ordeined: and the exercises of warre, beyng accustomed in thesame, where the yong men did exercise, there grewe, that beyng chosen after to goe into warre, thei were so used in the fained exercise of warfare, that thei could easely worke in the true: but those Emperours havyng after put doune these exercises, thei wer constrained to use the waies, that I have shewed you. Therefore, comyng to the maner of the chosen Romain, I saie that after the Romain Consulles (to whom was appoincted the charge of the warre) had taken the rule, myndyng to ordeine their armies, for that it was the custome, that either of them should have twoo Legions of Romaine menne, whiche was the strength of their armies, thei created xxiiii.  Tribunes of warre, and thei appoincted sixe for every Legion, whom did thesame office, whiche those doe now a daies, that we call Conestables: thei made after to come together, all the Romain men apte to beare weapons and thei put the Tribunes of every Legion, seperate the one from the other. Afterwarde, by lot thei drewe the Tribes, of whiche thei had firste to make the chosen, and of thesame Tribe thei chose fower of the best, of whiche was chosen one of the Tribunes, of the first Legion, and of the other three was chosen, one of the Tribunes of the second Legion, of the other two there was chosen one of the Tribunes of the third, and the same last fell to the fowerth Legion. After these iiij, thei chose other fower, of which, first one was chosen of the Tribunes of the seconde Legion, the seconde of those of the thirde, the thirde of those of the fowerth, the fowerth remained to the first. After, thei chose other fower, the first chose the thirde, the second the fowerth, the thirde the fiveth, the fowerth remained to the seconde: and thus thei varied successively, this maner of chosyng, so that the election came to be equall, and the Legions wer gathered together: and as afore we saied, this choise might bee made to use straighte waie, for that thei made them of men, of whom a good parte were experiensed in the verie warfare in deede, and all in the fained exercised, and thei might make this choise by conjecture, and by experience. But where a power must be ordeined of newe, and for this to chuse them out of hande, this chosen cannot be made, saving by conjecture, whiche is taken by consideryng their ages and their likelinesse.

COSIMO. I beleve all to be true, as moche as of you hath been spoken: but before that you procede to other reasonyng, I woll aske of you one thing, which you have made me to remember: saiyng that the chosen, that is to be made where men were not used to warre, ought to be made by conjecture: for asmoche as I have heard some men, in many places dispraise our ordinaunce, and in especially concernyng the nomber, for that many saie, that there ought to bee taken lesse nomber, whereof is gotten this profite, that thei shall  be better and better chosen, and men shal not be so moche diseased, so that there maie bee given them some rewarde, whereby thei maie bee more contented, and better bee commaunded, whereof I would understande in this parte your opinion, and whether you love better the greate nomber, than the little, and what waie you would take to chuse theim in the one, and in the other nomber.

FABRICIO. Without doubte it is better, and more necessary, the great nomber, then the little: but to speake more plainly, where there cannot be ordeined a great nomber of men, there cannot be ordeined a perfect ordinaunce: and I will easely confute all the reasons of them propounded. I saie therefore firste, that the lesse nomber where is many people, as is for ensample Tuscane, maketh not that you have better, nor that the chosen be more excellent, for that myndyng in chosing the menne, to judge them by experience, there shall be founde in thesame countrie moste fewe, whom experience should make provable, bothe for that fewe hath been in warre, as also for that of those, mooste fewe have made triall, whereby thei might deserve to bee chosen before the other: so that he whiche ought in like places to chuse, it is mete he leave a parte the experience, and take them by conjecture. Then being brought likewise into soche necessitie, I would understande, if there come before me twentie young men of good stature, with what rule I ought to take, or to leave any: where without doubte, I beleve that every man will confesse, how it is lesse errour to take them al, to arme theim and exercise theim, beyng not able to knowe, whiche of theim is beste, and to reserve to make after more certaine chosen, when in practisyng theim with exercise, there shall be knowen those of moste spirite, and of moste life: which considered, the chusing in this case a fewe, to have them better, is altogether naught.

Concernyng diseasing lesse the countrie, and men, I saie that the ordinaunce, either evill or little that it bee, causeth not any disease, for that this order doeth not take menne from any of their businesse, it bindeth them not, that thei cannot go to doe any of their affaires: for that it bindeth  them onely in the idell daies, to assemble together, to exercise them, the whiche thyng doeth not hurt, neither to the countrie, nor to the men, but rather to yong men it shall bryng delite: For that where vilie on the holy daies thei stande idell in tipplyng houses, thei will go for pleasure to those exercises, for that the handlyng of weapons, as it is a goodly spectacle, so unto yong men it is pleasaunt. Concernyng to bee able to paie the lesse nomber, and for this to kepe theim more obediente, and more contented, I answere, how there cannot be made an ordinaunce of so fewe, whiche maie be in maner continually paied, where thesame paiment of theirs maie satisfie them. As for ensample, if there were ordeined a power of v. thousande men, for to paie them after soche sorte, that it might be thought sufficient, to content them, it shal bee convenient to give theim at least, ten thousaunde crounes the moneth: first, this nomber of men are not able to make an armie, this paie is intolerable to a state, and of the other side, it is not sufficiente to kepe men contented, and bounde to be able to serve at al times: so that in doyng this, there shall be spent moche, and a small power kept, whiche shall not be sufficient to defend thee, or to doe any enterprise of thine. If thou shouldest give theim more, or shouldest take more, so moche more impossibilitie it should be, for thee to paie theim: if thou shouldest give them lesse, or should take lesse, so moche the lesse contentacion should be in them, or so moche the lesse profite thei shal bring thee. Therfore, those that reason of makyng an ordinaunce, and whilest thei tary at home to paie them, thei reason of a thing either impossible, or unprofitable, but it is necessarie to paie them, when thei are taken up to be led to the warre: albeit, though soche order should somewhat disease those, in time of peace, that are appoincted in thesame, which I se not how, there is for recompence all those benefites, whiche a power brynges, that is ordeined in a countrie: for that without thesame, there is nothyng sure. I conclude, that he that will have the little nomber, to be able to paie them, or for any of the other causes alledged of you, doeth not  understande, for that also it maketh for my opinion, that every nomber shall deminishe in thy handes, through infinite impedimentes, whiche men have: so that the little nomber shall tourne to nothing: again havyng thordinaunce greate, thou maiest at thy pleasure use fewe of many, besides this, it must serve thee in deede, and in reputacion and alwaies the great nomber shall give thee moste reputacion. More over, makyng the ordinaunce to kepe menne exercised, if thou appoincte a fewe nomber of men in many countries, the handes of men bee so farre a sonder, the one from the other, that thou canst not without their moste grevous losse, gather them together to exercise them, and without this exercise, the ordinaunce is unprofitable, as hereafter shall be declared.

COSIMO. It suffiseth upon this my demaunde, that whiche you have saied: but I desire now, that you declare me an other doubt. Thei saie, that soche a multitude of armed men, will make confusion, discension and disorder in the countrie where thei are.

How to provid againste soche inconveniences as souldiours maie cause.

FABRICIO. This is an other vaine opinion, the cause wherof, I shall tell you: soche as are ordeined to serve in the warres, maie cause disorder in twoo maners, either betwene them selves, or against other, whiche thinges moste easely maie be withstode, where the order of it self, should not withstande it: for that concernyng the discorde emong theim selves, this order taketh it waie, and doeth not nourishe it, for that in orderyng them, you give them armour and capitaines. If the countrie where you ordein them, bee so unapte for the warre, that there are not armours emong the men of thesame, and that thei bee so united, that thei have no heddes, this order maketh theim moche fearser against the straunger, but it maketh them not any thyng the more disunited, for that men well ordered, feare the lawe beyng armed, as well as unarmed, nor thei can never alter, if the capitaines, which you give them, cause not the alteracion, and the waie to make this, shall be tolde now: but if the countrie where you ordein them, be warlike and disunited, this order onely shal be occasion to unite them: bicause this order giveth them  armours profitable for the warre, and heddes, extinguishers of discencion: where their owne armours bee unprofitable for the warres, and their heddes nourishers of discorde. For that so sone as any in thesame countrie is offended, he resorteth by and by to his capitain to make complaint, who for to maintain his reputacion, comforteth hym to revengement not to peace. To the contrary doeth the publike hed, so that by this meanes, thoccasion of discorde is taken awaie, and the occasion of union is prepared, and the provinces united and effeminated, gette utilitie, and maintain union: the disunited and discencious, doe agree, and thesame their fearsnesse, which is wont disordinately to worke, is tourned into publike utilitie. To minde to have them, to doe no hurt against other, it ought to bee considered, that thei cannot dooe this, except by meane of the heddes, whiche governe them. To will that the heddes make no disorder, it is necessarie to have care, that thei get not over them to much auctoritie. And you must consider that this auctoritie, is gotten either by nature, or by accidente: and as to nature, it behoveth to provide, that he which is boren in one place, be not apoincted to the men billed in the same, but be made hedde of those places, where he hath not any naturall aquaintance: and as to the accident, the thing ought to be ordeined in suche maner, that every yere the heddes maie be changed from governement to goverment: for as muche as the continuall auctoritie over one sorte of menne, breedeth among them so muche union, that it maie turne easely to the prejudice of the Prince: whiche permutations howe profitable they be to those who have used theim, and hurtefull to them that have not observed theim, it is well knowen by the kingdome of the Assirians, and by the Empire of the Romaines: where is seene, that the same kingdome indured a M. yeres without tumulte, and without any Civill warre: whiche preceded not of other, then of the permutations, whiche from place to place everie yere thesame Capitaines made, unto whome were apoincted the charge of the Armies. Nor for any other occasion in the Romaine Empire, after the bloud of Cesar was extinguished, there grewe so many civill warres,  betwene the Capitaines of the hostes, and so many conspiracies of the forsaied capitaines against the Emperours, not onely kepyng continually still those capitaines alwayes in one governement. And if in some of those firste Emperoures, of those after, whom helde the Empire with reputacion, as Adriane, Marcus, Severus, and soche like, there had been so moche foresight, that thei had brought this custome of chaungyng the capitaines in thesame Empire, without doubte it should have made theim more quiete, and more durable: For that the Capitaines should have had lesse occasion to make tumultes, the Emperours lesse cause to feare, and the senate in the lackes of the successions, should have had in the election of the Emperour, more aucthoritie, and by consequence should have been better: but the naughtie custome, either for ignoraunce, or through the little diligence of menne, neither for the wicked, nor good ensamples, can be taken awaie.

COSIMO. I cannot tell, if with my questionyng, I have as it were led you out of your order, bicause from the chusyng of men, we be entred into an other matter, and if I had not been a little before excused, I should thinke to deserve some reprehension.

The nomber of horsemen, that the Romanies chose for a Legion, and for a Consailes armie.

FABRICIO. Let not this disquiete you, for that all this reasonyng was necessary, myndyng to reason of the ordinaunce, the which beyng blamed of many, it was requsite to excuse it, willyng to have this first parte of chusyng men to be alowed. But now before I discend to the other partes, I will reason of the choise of men on horsebacke. Of the antiquitie, these were made of the moste richeste, havyng regard bothe to the yeres, and to the qualitie of the man, and thei chose CCC. for a Legion, so that the Romain horse, in every Consulles armie, passed not the nomber of vi. C.

COSIMO. Would you make an ordinaunce of hors, to exercise them at home, and to use their service when nede requires?

The choosing and ordering of horsemen, that is to be observed at this present.

FABRICIO. It is most necessary, and it cannot be doen otherwise, minding to have the power, that it be the owne  proper, and not to purpose to take of those, which make thereof an art.

COSIMO. How would you choose them?

FABRICIO. I would imitate the Romans, I would take of the richest, I would give them heads or chief Captains, in the same manner, as nowadays to other is given, and I would arm them and exercise them.

COSIMO. To these should it be well to give some provision?

FABRICIO. Yea marie, but so much only as is necessary to keep the horse, for as much as bringing to thy subjects expenses, they might justly complain of thee, therefore it should be necessary, to pay them their charges of their horse.

COSIMO. What number would you make? and how would you arme them?

FABRICIO. You pass into another matter. I will tell you in convenient place, which shall be when I have told you, how footmen ought to be armed, and how a power of men is prepared, for a day of battle.

THE SECOND BOOKE

Howe the Romaines armed their souldiers and what weapons thei used.

I beleeve that it is necessarye, men being founde, to arme them, and minding to doo this, I suppose that it is a needefull thing to examine, what armoure the antiquitie used, and of the same to chose the best. The Romanes devided their foote men in heavie and lighte armed: Those that were light armed, they called by the name of Veliti: Under this name were understoode all those that threwe with Slinges, shot with Crossebowes, cast Dartes, and they used the most parte of them for their defence, to weare on their heade a Murion, with a Targaet on their arme: they fought out of the orders, and farre of from the heavie armed, which did weare a head peece, that came downe to their shoulders, a Corselet, which with the tases came downe to the knees, and they had the legges and armes, covered with greaves, and vambraces, with a targaet on the left arme, a yarde and a halfe long, and three quarters of a yarde brode, whiche had a hoope of Iron upon it, to bee able to sustaine a blowe, and an other under, to the intente, that it being driven to the earth, it should not breake: for to offende, they had girte on their left flanke a swoorde, the length of a yearde and a naile, on their righte side, a Dagger: they had a darte in every one of their handes, the which they called Pilo, and in the beginning of the fight, they threwe those at the enemie. This was the ordering, and importaunce of the armours of the Romanes, by the which  they possessed all the world. And although some of these ancient writers gave them, besides the foresayde weapons, a staffe in their hande like unto a Partasen, I cannot tell howe a heavy staff, may of him that holdeth a Targaet be occupied: for that to handle it with both hands, the Targaet should bee an impediment, and to occupye the same with one hande, there can be done no good therewith, by reason of the weightynesse thereof: besides this, to faight in the strong, and in the orders with such long kinde of weapon, it is unprofitable, except in the first front, where they have space enough, to thrust out all the staffe, which in the orders within, cannot be done, for that the nature of the battaile (as in the order of the same, I shall tell you) is continually to throng together, which although it be an inconvenience, yet in so doing they fear lesse, then to stande wide, where the perill is most evident, so that all the weapons, which passe in length a yarde and a halfe, in the throng, be unprofitable: for that, if a man have the Partasen, and will occupye it with both handes, put case that the Targaet let him not, he can not hurte with the same an enemy, whom is upon him, if he take it with one hande, to the intent to occupy also the Targaet, being not able to take it, but in the middest, there remayneth so much of the staff behind, that those which are behinde him, shall let him to welde it. And whether it were true, either that the Romans had not this Partasen, or that having it, did little good withal, read all the battailes, in the historye thereof, celebrated of Titus Livius, and you shall see in the same, most seldom times made mencion of Partasens, but rather alwaies he saieth, that the Dartes being thrown, they laid their hands on their sweardes. Therefore I will leave this staffe, and observe, concerning the Romanes, the swoorde for to hurte, and for defense the Targaet, with the other armours aforesaide.

A brave and a terrible thing to the enemies.

The Greekes did not arme them selves so heavyly, for their defense, as the Romans dyd: but for to offend the enemies, they grounded more on their staves, then on their swoordes, and in especiallye the Fallangye of Macedonia,  which used staves, that they called Sarisse, seven yardes and a halfe long, with the which they opened the rankes of their enemies, and they keept the orders in their Fallangy. And although some writers saie, that they had also the Targaet, I can not tell (by the reasons aforesayde) howe the Sarisse and they coulde stande together. Besides this, in the battaile that Paulus Emilius made, with Persa king of Macedonia, I do not remember, that there is made any mention of Targaettes, but only of the Sarisse, and of the difficultie that the Romane armie had, to overcome them: so that I conjecture, that a Macedonicall Fallange, was no other wise, then is now a dayes a battaile of Suizzers, the whiche in their Pikes have all their force, and all their power. The Romanes did garnish (besides the armours) the footemen with feathers; the whiche thinges makes the fight of an armie to the friendes goodly, to the enemies terrible. The armour of the horsemen, in the same first Romane antiquitie, was a rounde Targaet, and they had their head armed, and the rest unarmed: They had a swoorde and a staffe, with an Iron head onely before, long and small: whereby it happened, that they were not able to staye the Targaet, and the staffe in the incountring broke, and they through being unarmed, were subjecte to hurtes: after, in processe of time, they armed them as the footemen, albeit they used the Targaette muche shorter, square, and the staffe more stiffe, and with twoo heades, to the entente, that breaking one of the heades, they mighte prevaile with the other. With these armours as well on foote, as on horsebacke, the Romanes conquered all the worlde, and it is to be beleeved, by the fruiet thereof, whiche is seene, that they were the beste appointed armies, that ever were: and Titus Livius in his history, doeth testifie verye often, where comming to comparison with the enemies armies, he saieth: But the Romanes, by vertue, by the kinde of their armours, and piactise in the service of warre, were superiours: and therfore I have more particularly reasoned of the armours of conquerours, then of the conquered. But nowe mee thikes good, to reason onelye of the manner of arming  men at this presente. Footemen have for their defence, a breast plate, and for to offende, a launce, sixe yardes and three quarters long, which is called a pike, with a swoorde on their side, rather rounde at the poinct, then sharpe. This is the ordinarie arming of footemen nowe a dayes, for that fewe there be, which have their legges armed, and their armes, the heade none, and those fewe, beare insteede of a Pike, a Halberde, the staffe whereof as you know, is twoo yardes and a quarter long, and it hath the Iron made like an axe. Betweene them, they have Harkebutters, the which with the violence of the fire, do the same office, which in olde time the slingers did, and the Crosseboweshoters. This maner of arming, was found out by the Dutchemen, inespeciallye of Suizzers, whom being poore, and desirous to live free, they were, and be constrayned to fight, with the ambition of the Princes of Almaine, who being riche, were able to keepe horse, the which the same people could not do for povertye. Wherby it grewe, that being on foote, minding to defende them selves from the enemies, that were on horsebacke, it behooveth them to seeke of the aunciente orders, and to finde weapons, whiche from the furie of horses, should defende them: This necessitie hath made either to be maintayned, or to bee founde of them the aunciente orders, without whiche, as everye prudente man affirmeth, the footemen is altogether unprofitable. Therefore, they tooke for their weapon the Pike, a moste profitable weapon, not only to withstande horses, but to overcome them: and the Dutchemen have by vertue of these weapons, and of these orders, taken such boldnesse, that XV. or XX. thousande of them, will assault the greatest nomber of horse that maye be: and of this, there hath beene experience enough within this XXV. yeres. And the insamples of their vertue hath bene so mightie, grounded upon these weapons, and these orders, that sence King Charles passed into Italie, everye nation hath imitated them: so that the Spanish armies, are become into most great reputation.

COSIMO. Which maner of arming, do you praise moste, either these Dutchemens, or the auncient Romanes?

Whether the Romanes maner in arming of men, be better then the arming of men, that is used nowe a daies.

FABRICIO. The Romane without doubte, and I will tell the commoditie, and the discommoditie of the one, and the other. The Dutche footemen, are able to withstande, and overcome the horses: they bee moste speedie to marche, and to be set in araye, being not laden with armours: of the other part, they be subjecte to all blowes, both farre of, and at hande: because they be unarmed, they bee unprofitable unto the battaile on the lande, and to everye fighte, where is strong resistaunce. But the Romanes withstoode, and overcame the horses, as well as the Dutchemen, they were safe from blowes at hande, and farre of, being covered with armours: they were also better able to charge, and better able to sustaine charges, having Targaettes: they might more aptly in the preace fight with the swoorde, then these with the Pike, and though the Dutchemen have likewise swoordes, yet being without Targaets, they become in suche case unprofitable: The Romanes might safelye assault townes, having their bodies cleane covered with armour, and being better able to cover themselves with their Targaettes. So that they had no other incommoditie, then the waightynesse of their armours, and the pain to cary them: the whiche thinges thei overcame, with accustomyng the body to diseases, and with hardenyng it, to bee able to indure labour. And you knowe, how that in thinges accustomed, men suffer no grief. And you have to understand this, that the footemen maie be constrained, to faight with footemen, and with horse, and alwaies those be unprofitable, whiche cannot either sustain the horses, or beyng able to sustain them, have notwithstandyng neede to feare the footemen, whiche be better armed, and better ordeined then thei. Now if you consider the Duchemen, and the Romaines, you shall finde in the Duchemen activitie (as we have said) to overcome the horses, but greate dissavauntage, when thei faighte with menne, ordeined as thei them selves are, and armed as the Romaines were: so that there shall be this advauntage more of the one, then of thother, that the Romaines could overcome the men, and the horses, the Duchemen onely the horses.

COSIMO. I would desire, that you would come to some more particulare insample, whereby wee maie better understande.

An ensample whiche proveth that horsemen with staves, cannot prevaile against footemen with Pikes, and what great advauntage the armed have, againste the unarmed. The victory of Carminvola against the Duchemen.

FABRICIO. I saie thus, that you shall finde in many places of our histories, the Romain footemen to have overcome innumerable horses, and you shall never finde, that thei have been overcome of men on foote, for default that thei have had in their armour, or thorowe the vantage that the enemie hath had in the armours: For that if the maner of their armyng, should have had defaulte, it had been necessarie, that there should folowe, the one of these twoo thynges, either that findyng soche, as should arme theim better then thei, thei should not have gone still forwardes, with their conquestes, or that thei should have taken the straungers maners, and should have left their owne, and for that it folowed not in the one thing, nor in the other, there groweth that ther maie be easely conjectured, that the maner of their armyng, was better then thesame of any other. It is not yet thus happened to the Duchemen, for that naughtie profe, hath ben seen made them, when soever thei have chaunsed to faight with men on foote prepared, and as obstinate as thei, the whiche is growen of the vauntage, whiche thesame have incountred in thenemies armours. Philip Vicecounte of Milaine, being assaulted of xviii. thousande Suizzers, sent against theim the Counte Carminvola, whiche then was his capitaine. He with sixe thousande horse, and a fewe footemen, went to mete with them, and incounteryng theim, he was repulsed with his moste greate losse: wherby Carminvola as a prudente man, knewe straight waie the puisaunce of the enemies weapons, and how moche against the horses thei prevailed, and the debilitie of the horses, againste those on foote so appoincted: and gatheryng his men together again, he went to finde the Suizzers, and so sone as he was nere them, he made his men of armes, to a light from their horse, and in thesame mane, faightyng with them he slue theim all, excepte three thousande: the whiche seyng them selves to consume, without havyng reamedy, castyng their weapons to the grounde, yelded.

COSIMO. Whereof cometh so moche disavauntage?

The battailes when thei are a faightyng, doe throng together.

FABRICIO. I have a little afore tolde you, but seyng that you have not understoode it, I will rehearse it againe. The Duchemen (as a little before I saied unto you) as it were unarmed, to defende themselves, have to offende, the Pike and the swearde: thei come with these weapons, and with their orders to finde the enemies, whom if thei bee well armed, to defende theim selves, as were the menne of armes of Carminvola, whiche made theim a lighte on foote, thei come with the sweard, and in their orders to find them, and have no other difficultie, then to come nere to the Suizzers, so that thei maie reche them with the sweard, for that so sone as thei have gotten unto them, thei faight safely: for asmoche as the Duch man cannot strike thenemie with the Pike, whom is upon him, for the length of the staffe, wherefore it is conveniente for hym, to put the hande to the sweard, the whiche to hym is unprofitable, he beyng unarmed, and havyng against hym an enemie, that is all armed. Whereby he that considereth the vantage, and the disavantage of the one, and of the other, shall see, how the unarmed, shall have no maner of remeady, and the overcommyng of the firste faight, and to passe the firste poinctes of the Pikes, is not moche difficulte, he that faighteth beyng well armed: for that the battailes go (as you shall better understande, when I have shewed you, how thei are set together) and incounteryng the one the other, of necessitie thei thrust together, after soche sorte, that thei take the one thother by the bosome, and though by the Pikes some bee slaine, or overthrowen, those that remain on their feete, be so many, that thei suffice to obtaine the victorie. Hereof it grewe, that Carminvola overcame them, with so greate slaughter of the Suizzers, and with little losse of his.

COSIMO. Consider that those of Carminvola, were men of armes, whom although thei wer on foote, thei were covered all with stele, and therefore thei wer able to make the profe thei did: so that me thinkes, that a power ought to be armed as thei, mindyng to make the verie same profe.

FABRICIO. If you should remember, how I tolde you the Romaines were armed, you would not thynke so: for as moche as a manne, that hath the hedde covered with Iron, the breaste defended of a Corselet, and of a Targaet, the armes and the legges armed, is moche more apt to defende hymself from the Pike, and to enter emong them, then a man of armes on foote. I wil give you a little of a late ensample. There wer come out of Cicelie, into the kyngdome of Naples, a power of Spaniardes, for to go to finde Consalvo, who was besieged in Barlet, of the Frenchemen: there made against theim Mounsier de Vhigni, with his menne of armes, and with aboute fower thousande Duchemen on foote: The Duchemen incountered with their Pikes lowe, and thei opened the power of the Spaniardes: but those beyng holp, by meane of their bucklers and of the agiletie of their bodies, mingled togethers with the Duchemen, so that thei might reche them with the swearde, whereby happened the death, almoste of all theim, and the victorie to the Spaniardes. Every man knoweth, how many Duchemen were slaine in the battaile of Ravenna, the whiche happened by the verie same occasion: for that the Spanishe souldiours, got them within a swerdes length of the Duche souldiours, and thei had destroied them all, if of the Frenche horsemen, the Duchemen on foote, had not been succored: notwithstandyng, the Spaniardes close together, brought themselves into a safe place. I conclude therefore, that a good power ought not onely to be able, to withstande the horses, but also not to have fear of menne on foote, the which (as I have many tymes saied) procedeth of the armours, and of the order.

How to arme men, and what weapons to appoincte theim, after the Romaine maner, and Duche facion.

COSIMO. Tell therefore, how you would arme them?

FABRICIO. I would take of the Romaine armours, and of the Duchemennes weapons, and I would that the one haulfe, should bee appoincted like the Romaines, and the other haulfe like the Duchemen: for that if in sixe thousande footemen (as I shall tell you a little hereafter) I should have thre thousande men with Targaettes, after the Romain maner, and two thousande Pikes, and a thousand  Harkebutters, after the Duche facion, thei should sufice me: for that I would place the Pikes, either in the fronte of the battaile, or where I should feare moste the horses, and those with the Targaetes and sweardes, shall serve me to make a backe to the Pikes, and to winne the battaile, as I shall shewe you: so that I beleeve, that a power thus ordayned, should overcome at this daye, any other power.

COSIMO. This which hath beene saide, sufficeth concerning footemen, but concerning horsemen, wee desire to understand which you thinke more stronger armed, either ours, or the antiquitie.

The victorie of Lucullo, against Tiarane king of Armenia; For what pupose horsemen be most requisite.

FABRICIO. I beleeve that in these daies, having respect to the Saddelles bolstered, and to the stiroppes not used of the antiquitie, they stande more stronglye on horsebacke, then in the olde time: I thinke also they arme them more sure: so that at this daye, a bande of men of armes, paysing very muche, commeth to be with more difficultie withstoode, then were the horsemen of old time: notwithstanding for all this, I judge, that there ought not to be made more accompt of horses, then in olde time was made, for that (as afore is sayde) manye times in our dayes, they have with the footemen receyved shame and shall receyve alwayes, where they incounter, with a power of footemen armed, and ordered, as above hath bene declared. Tigrane king of Armenia, had againste the armie of the Romanes, wherof was Capitayne Lucullo, CL. thousande horsemen, amongest the whiche, were many armed, like unto our men of armes, which they called Catafratti, and of the other parte, the Romanes were about sixe thousande, with xxv. thousand footemen: so that Tigrane seeing the armie of the enemies, saide: these be horses enough for an imbassage: notwithstanding, incountering together, he was overthrowen: and he that writeth of the same fighte, disprayseth those Catafratti, declaring them to be unprofitable; for that hee sayeth, because they had their faces covered, they had muche a doe to see, and to offende the enemie, and they falling, being laden with armour coulde not rise up again, nor welde themselves in  any maner to prevaile. I say therefore, that those people or kingdomes, whiche shall esteeme more the power of horses, then the power of footemen be alwaies weake, and subjecte to all ruine, as by Italie hath been seene in our time, the whiche hath beene taken, ruinated, and over run with straungers, through not other fault, then for having taken litle care, of the service on foote, and being brought the souldiours therof, all on horsebacke. Yet there ought to bee had horses, but for seconde, and not for firste foundaion of an armie: for that to make a discovery, to over run and to destroy the enemies countrie, and to keepe troubled and disquieted, the armie of the same, and in their armours alwayes, to let them of their victuals, they are necessary, and most profitable: but concerning for the daye of battaile, and for the fighte in the fielde, whiche is the importaunce of the warre, and the ende, for which the armies are ordeined, they are more meeter to follow the enemie being discomfited then to do any other thing which in the same is to be done, and they bee in comparison, to the footemen much inferiour.

COSIMO. There is happened unto mee twoo doubtes, the one, where I knowe, that the Parthians dyd not use in the warre, other then horses, and yet they devided the worlde with the Romanes: the other is, that I woulde that you should shewe, howe the horsemen can be withstoode of footemen, and wherof groweth the strength of these, and the debilitie of those?

The reason why footmen are able to overcome horsemen; How footmen maie save them selves from horsemen; The exercise of Souldiours, ought to be devided into thre partes; What exercises the auncient common weales used to exercise their youth in, and what commoditie insued thereby; How the antiquitie, learned their yong soldiours, to handell their weapons; What thantiquitie estemed moste happie in a common weale; Mouster Maisters; for thexercisyng of yong men unexperte.

FABRICIO. Either I have tolde you, or I minded to tell you, howe that my reasoning of the affaires of warre, ought not to passe the boundes of Europe: when thus it is, I am not bounde unto you, to make accompte of the same, which is used in Asia, yet I muste saye unto you thus, that the warring of the Parthians, was altogether contrarye, to the same of the Romanes: for as muche as the Parthians, warred all on horsebacke, and in the fight, they proceeded confusedlye, and scattered, and it was a maner of fighte unstable, and full of uncertaintie. The Romanes were (it maye be sayde) almoste al on foote, and thei fought close  together and sure, and thei overcame diversly, the one the other, according to the largenesse, or straightnesse of the situation: for that in this the Romaines were superiours, in thesame the Parthians, whom might make greate proofe, with thesame maner of warryng, consideryng the region, which thei had to defende, the which was moste large: for as moche as it hath the sea coaste, distant a thousande miles, the rivers thone from thother, twoo or three daies journey, the tounes in like maner and the inhabitauntes few: so that a Romaine armie heavie and slowe, by meanes of their armoures, and their orders, could not over run it, without their grevous hurt (those that defended it, being on horsebacke mooste expedite) so that thei were to daie in one place, and to morowe distaunt fiftie miles. Hereof it grewe, that the Parthians might prevaile with their chivalrie onely, bothe to the ruine of the armie of Crassus, and to the perill of thesame, of Marcus Antonius: but I (as I have told you) doe not intende in this my reasonyng, to speake of the warfare out of Europe, therfore I will stand upon thesame, whiche in times past, the Romaines ordained, and the Grekes, and as the Duchemen doe now adaies. But let us se to the other question of yours, where you desire to understande, what order, or what naturall vertue makes, that the footemen overcome the horsmen. And I saie unto you first that the horses cannot go, as the footmen in every place: Thei are slower then the footemen to obeie, when it is requisite to alter the order: for as moche, as if it be nedefull, either goyng forward, to turne backwarde, or tournyng backwarde, to go forwarde, or to move themselves standing stil, or goyng to stand still, without doubt, the horsemen cannot dooe it so redilie as the footemen: the horsemen cannot, being of some violence, disordained, returne in their orders, but with difficultie, although thesame violence cease, the whiche the footemen dooe moste easely and quickly. Besides this, it happeneth many tymes, that a hardie manne shall be upon a vile horse, and a coward upon a good, whereby it foloweth, that this evill matchyng of stomackes, makes disorder. Nor no man doeth marvell, that  a bande of footemenne, susteineth all violence of horse for that a horse is a beaste, that hath sence, and knoweth the perilles, and with an ill will, will enter in them: and if you consider, what force maketh theim go forwarde, and what holdeth them backwarde, you shall se without doubt thesame to be greater, whiche kepeth them backe, then that whiche maketh them go forwardes: For that the spurre maketh theim go forwarde, and of the other side, either the swearde, or the Pike, kepeth theim backe: so that it hath been seen by the olde, and by the late experience, a bande of footemen to bee moste safe, ye, invinsible for horses. And if you should argue to this, that the heate, with whiche thei come, maketh theim more furious to incounter who that would withstande them, and lesse to regard the Pike, then the spurre: I saie, that if the horse so disposed, begin to see, that he must run upon the poincte of the Pike, either of himself, he wil refrain the course so that so sone as he shall feele himself pricked, he will stande still atones, or beeyng come to theim, he will tourne on the right, or on the lefte hande. Whereof if you wil make experience, prove to run a horse against a walle: you shall finde fewe, with what so ever furie he come withall, will strike against it. Cesar havyng in Fraunce, to faighte with the Suizzers, a lighted, and made every manne a light on foote, and to avoide from the araies, the horses, as a thyng more meete to flie, then to faight. But notwithstandyng these naturall impedimentes, whiche horses have, thesame Capitaine, whiche leadeth the footemen, ought to chuse waies, whiche have for horse, the moste impedimentes that maie bee, and seldome tymes it happeneth, but that a manne maie save hymself, by the qualitie of the countrie: for that if thou marche on the hilles, the situacion doeth save thee from thesame furie, whereof you doubt, that thei go withail in the plain, fewe plaines be, whiche through the tillage or by meanes of the woddes, doe not assure thee: for that every hillocke, every bancke, although it be but small, taketh awaie thesame heate, and every culture where bee Vines, and other trees, lettes the horses: and if thou come  to battaile, the very same lettes happeneth, that chaunceth in marchyng: for as moche as every little impedemente, that the horse hath, abateth his furie. One thyng notwithstandyng, I will not forgette to tell you, how the Romaines estemed so moche their orders, and trusted so moche to their weapons, that if thei shuld have had, to chuse either so rough a place to save theim selves from horses, where thei should not have been able, to raunge their orders, or a place where thei should have nede, to feare more of horses, but ben able to deffende their battaile, alwaies thei toke this, and left that: but bicause it is tyme, to passe to the armie, having armed these souldiours, accordyng to the aunciente and newe use, let us see what exercises the Romaines caused theim make, before the menne were brought to the battaile. Although thei be well chosen, and better armed, thei ought with moste greate studie be exercised, for that without this exercise, there was never any souldiour good: these exercises ought to be devided into three partes, the one, for to harden the bodie, and to make it apte to take paines, and to bee more swifter and more readier, the other, to teach them, how to handell their weapons, the third, for to learne them to kepe the orders in the armie, as well in marchyng, as in faightyng, and in the incampyng: The whiche be three principall actes, that an armie doeth: for asmoche, as if an armie marche, incampe, and faight with order, and expertly, the Capitaine leseth not his honoure, although the battaile should have no good ende. Therfore, all thauncient common weales, provided these exercises in maner, by custome, and by lawe, that there should not be left behinde any part thereof. Thei exercised then their youth, for to make them swift, in runnyng, to make theim readie, in leapyng, for to make them strong, in throwyng the barre, or in wrestlyng: and these three qualities, be as it were necessarie in souldiours. For that swiftnesse, maketh theim apte to possesse places, before the enemie, and to come to them unloked for, and at unwares to pursue them, when thei are discomfaicted: the readinesse, maketh theim apte to avoide a blowe, to leape over a diche, to winne a  banke: strength, maketh them the better able to beare their armours, to incounter the enemie, to withstande a violence. And above all, to make the bodie the more apte to take paines, thei used to beare greate burthens, the whiche custome is necessarie: for that in difficulte expedicions it is requisite many tymes, that the souldiour beside his armours, beare vitualles for many daies, and if he were not accustomed to this labour, he could not dooe it: and without this, there can neither bee avoided a perill, nor a victorie gotten with fame. Concernyng to learne how to handell the weapons, thei exercised theim, in this maner: thei would have the yong menne, to put on armour, whiche should waie twise as moche, as their field armour, and in stede of a swearde, thei gave them a cudgell leaded, whiche in comparison of a verie swearde in deede, was moste heavie; thei made for every one of them, a poste to be set up in the ground, which should be in height twoo yardes and a quarter, and in soche maner, and so strong, that the blowes should not slur nor hurle it doune, against the whiche poste, the yong man with a targaet, and with the cudgell, as against an enemie did exercise, and some whiles he stroke, as though he would hurte the hedde, or the face, somewhile he retired backe, an other while he made forewarde: and thei had in this exercise, this advertisment, to make theim apt to cover theim selves, and to hurte the enemie: and havyng the counterfaight armours moste heavy, their ordinarie armours semed after unto them more lighter. The Romanies, would that their souldiours should hurte with the pricke, and not with the cutte, as well bicause the pricke is more mortalle, and hath lesse defence, as also to thentent that he that should hurt, might lye the lesse open, and be more apt to redouble it, then with cuttes. Dooe not marvaile that these auncient men, should thinke on these small thynges, for that where the incounteryng of men is reasoned of, you shall perceive, that every little vauntage, is of greate importaunce: and I remember you the same, whiche the writers of this declare, rather then I to teache you. The antiquitie estemed nothing move  happie, in a common weale, then to be in thesame, many men exercised in armes: bicause not the shining of precious stones and of golde, maketh that the enemies submit themselves unto thee, but onely the fear of the weapons: afterwarde the errours whiche are made in other thynges, maie sometymes be corrected, but those whiche are dooen in the warre, the paine straight waie commyng on, cannot be amended. Besides that, the knowlege to faight, maketh men more bold, bicause no man feareth to doe that thing, which he thinketh to have learned to dooe. The antiquitie would therefore, that their Citezeins should exercise themselves, in all marcial feates, and thei made them to throwe against thesame poste, dartes moche hevier then the ordinarie: the whiche exercise, besides the makyng men expert in throwyng, maketh also the arme more nimble, and moche stronger. Thei taught them also to shote in the long bowe, to whorle with the sling: and to all these thynges, thei appoincted maisters, in soche maner, that after when thei were chosen for to go to the warre, thei were now with mynde and disposicion, souldiours. Nor there remained them to learn other, then to go in the orders, and to maintain them selves in those, either marchyng, or faightyng: The whiche moste easely thei learned, mingeling themselves with those, whiche had long tyme served, whereby thei knewe how to stande in the orders.

COSIMO. What exercises would you cause theim to make at this present?

The exercises that souldiers ought to make in these daies; The exercise of swimmyng; Tiber, is a river runnyng through Rome the water wher of will never corrupte; Thexercise of vautyng, and the commoditie thereof; An order that is taken in certain countries, concerning exercises of warre; What knowledge a Souldiour ought to have; A Cohorte is a bande of men; Of what nomer and of what kind of armours and weapons, a maine battaile ought to bee, and the distributing and appoinetyng of thesame; veliti are light armed men; Thecapitaines that ar appointed to every band of men; Twoo orders observed in an armie; How a captain muste instructe muste instructe his souldiours how thei ought to governe themselves in the battaile.

FABRICIO. A good many of those, whiche have been declared, as runnyng, and wrestlyng, makyng theim to leape, makyng theim to labour in armours, moche heavier then the ordinarie, making them shoote with Crosse bowes, and longe bowes, whereunto I would joyne the harkabus, a newe instrument (as you know) verie necessarie, and to these exercises I would use, al the youth of my state, but with greater industrie, and more sollicitatenesse thesame parte, whiche I should have alreadie appoincted to serve, and alwaies in the idell daies, thei should bee exercised. I would also that thei should learne to swimme, the whiche  is a thyng verie profitable: for that there be not alwaies bridges over rivers, boates be not alwaies readie: so that thy army not knowyng howe to swime, remaineth deprived of many commodities: and many occasions to woorke well, is taken awaie. The Romaines for none other cause had ordained, that the yong men should exercise them selves in Campus Martius, then onely, for that havyng Tiber at hande, thei might, beyng weried with the exercise on lande, refreshe theim selves in the water, and partly in swimmyng, to exercise them selves. I would make also, as the antiquitie, those whiche should serve on horsebacke to exercise, the whiche is moste necessarie, for that besides to know how to ride, thei muste knowe how on horsebacke thei maie prevaile of them selves. And for this thei had ordeined horses of wood, upon the which thei practised, to leape by armed, and unarmed, without any helpe, and on every hande: the whiche made, that atones, and at a beck of a capitain, the horsmen were on foote, and likewise at a token, thei mounted on horsebacke. And soche exercises, bothe on foote and on horsebacke, as thei were then easie to bee doen, so now thei should not be difficult to thesame common weale, or to thesame prince, whiche would cause them to be put in practise of their yong men. As by experience is seen, in certaine citees of the Weste countrie, where is kepte a live like maners with this order. Thei devide all their inhabiters into divers partes: and every parte thei name of the kinde of those weapons, that thei use in the warre. And for that thei use Pikes, Halbardes, Bowes, and Harkebuses, thei call them Pike menne, Halberders, Harkebutters, and Archars: Therefore, it is mete for all the inhabiters to declare, in what orders thei will be appoincted in. And for that all men, either for age, or for other impedimentes, be not fitte for the warre, every order maketh a choise of men, and thei call them the sworen, whom in idell daies, be bounde to exercise themselves in those weapons, wherof thei be named: and every manne hath his place appoincted hym of the cominaltie, where soche exercise ought to be made: and those whiche be of thesame  order, but not of the sworen, are contributaries with their money, to thesame expenses, whiche in soche exercises be necessarie: therfore thesame that thei doe, we maie doe. But our smal prudence dooeth not suffre us, to take any good waie. Of these exercises there grewe, that the antiquitie had good souldiours, and that now those of the Weste, bee better men then ours: for as moche as the antiquitie exercised them, either at home (as those common weales doe) or in the armies, as those Emperours did, for thoccasions aforesaied: but we, at home will not exercise theim, in Campe we cannot, bicause thei are not our subjectes, and for that we are not able to binde them to other exercises then thei them selves liste to doe: the whiche occacion hath made, that firste the armies bee neclected, and after, the orders, and that the kyngdomes, and the common weales, in especially Italians, live in soche debilitie. But let us tourne to our order, and folowyng this matter of exercises, I saie, how it suffiseth not to make good armies, for havyng hardened the men, made them strong, swift, and handsome, it is nedefull also, that thei learne to stande in the orders, to obeie to signes, to soundes, and to the voice of the capitain: to knowe, standyng, to retire them selves, goyng forwardes, bothe faightyng, and marchyng to maintain those: bicause without this knowlege, withal serious diligence observed, and practised, there was never armie good: and without doubt, the fierce and disordered menne, bee moche more weaker, then the fearfull that are ordered, for that thorder driveth awaie from men feare, the disorder abateth fiercenesse. And to the entente you maie the better perceive that, whiche here folowyng shalbe declared, you have to understande, how every nation, in the orderyng of their men to the warre, have made in their hoste, or in their armie, a principall member, the whiche though thei have varied with the name, thei have little varied with the nomber of the menne: for that thei all have made it, betwene sixe and viii. M. men. This nomber of men was called of the Romaines, a Legion, of Grekes a Fallange, of Frenchemen Caterva: this verie same in our tyme of the  Suizzers, whom onely of the auncient warfare, kepe some shadowe, is called in their tongue that, whiche in ours signifieththe maine battaile. True it is, that every one of them, hath after devided it, accordyng to their purposes. Therefore me thinkes beste, that wee grounde our talke, upon this name moste knowen, and after, according to the aunciente, and to the orders now adaies, the beste that is possible to ordaine it; and bicause the Romaines devided their Legion, whiche was made betwene five and sixe thousande men, in ten Cohortes, I will that wee devide our main battaile, into ten battailes, and that we make it of sixe thousande menne on foote, and we will give to every battaile, CCCCL. men, of whiche shall be, CCCC. armed with heavie armour, and L. with light armour: the heavie armed, shall be CCC. Targettes with sweardes, and shalbe called Target men: and C. with Pikes, whiche shalbe called ordinarie Pikes: the light armed shalbe, L. men armed with Harkabuses, Crosse bowes, and Partisans, and smal Targaettes, and these by an aunciente name, were called ordinarie Veliti: all of the ten battailes therefore, comes to have three thousande Targaet men, a thousande ordinarie Pikes, CCCC. ordinarie Veliti, all whiche make the nomber of fower thousande and five hundred men. And we saied, that we would make the maine battaile of six thousande; therefore there must be added an other thousande, five hundred men, of whiche I will appoinet a thousande with Pikes, whom I will call extraordinarie Veliti, and thus my menne should come (as a little before I have saied) to bee made halfe of Targaetes, and halfe of Pikes and other weapons. I would appoinete to everie battaile, or bande of men, a Conestable, fower Centurions and fouretic peticapitaines, and moreover a hedde to the ordinarie Veliti. with five peticapitaines; I would give to the thousande extraordinarie Pikes, three Conestabelles, ten Centurions, and a hundred peticapitaines; to the extraodrinarie Veliti, two Conestabelles, v. Centurions, and l. peticapitaines: I would then apoinet a generall hed, over all the main  battaile: I would that every Conestable should have an Ansigne, and a Drum. Thus there should be made a manne battaile of ten battailes, of three thousande Targaet men, of a thousande ordinarie Pikes, of a thousande extraordinarie of five hundred ordinarie Veliti, of five hundred extraordinarie, so there should come to bee sixe thousande men, emongeste the whiche there should bee M.D. peticapitaines, and moreover, xv. Conestables, with xv. Drummes, and xv. Ansignes, lv. Centurions, x. heddes of the ordinarie Veliti, and a Capitaine over all the maine battaile with his Asigne and Drume, and I have of purpose repeated this order the oftener, to the intent, that after when I shall shewe you, the maners of orderyng the battailes, and tharmies, you should not be confounded: I saie therefore, how that, that king, or that common weale, whiche intendeth to ordeine their subjectes to armes, ought to appoincte theim with these armoures and weapons, and with these partes, and to make in their countrie so many maine battailes, as it were able: and when thei should have ordained them, according to the forsaid distribucion, minding to exercise them in the orders, it should suffice to exercise every battaile by it self: and although the nomber of the men, of every one of them, cannot by it self, make the facion of a juste armie, notwithstandyng, every man maie learne to dooe thesame, whiche particularly appertaineth unto hym: for that in the armies, twoo orders is observed, the one, thesame that the men ought to doe in every battaile, and the other that, whiche the battaile ought to doe after, when it is with the other in an armie. And those men, whiche doe wel the first, mooste easely maie observe the seconde: But without knowyng thesame, thei can never come to the knowlege of the seconde. Then (as I have saied) every one of these battailes, maie by them selves, learne to kepe the orders of the araies, in every qualitie of movyng, and of place, and after learne to put them selves togethers, to understande the soundes, by meanes wherof in the faight thei are commaunded, to learne to know by that, as the Gallics by the whissell, what ought to be doen, either to  stande still, or to tourne forward, or to tourne backwarde or whiche waie to tourne the weapons, and the face: so that knowyng how to kepe well the araie, after soche sorte, that neither place nor movyng maie disorder them, understandyng well the commaundementes of their heddes, by meanes of the sounde, and knowyng quickly, how to retourne into their place, these battailes maie after easly (as I have said) beyng brought many together, learne to do that, whiche all the body together, with the other battailes in a juste armie, is bounde to dooe. And bicause soche universall practise, is also not to bee estemed a little, ones or twise a yere, when there is peace, all the main battaile maie be brought together, to give it the facion of an whole armie, some daies exercisyng theim, as though thei should faight a fielde, settyng the fronte, and the sides with their succours in their places. And bicause a capitaine ordeineth his hoste to the fielde, either for coumpte of the enemie he seeth, or for that, of whiche without seyng he doubteth, he ought to exercise his armie in the one maner, and in the other, and to instructe theim in soche sorte, that thei maie knowe how to marche, and to faight, when nede should require, the wyng to his souldiours, how thei should governe theim selves, when thei should happen to be assaulted of this, or of that side: and where he ought to instructe theim how to faight againste the enemie, whom thei should see: he must shewe them also, how the faight is begun, and where thei ought to retire: being overthrowen, who hath to succeade in their places, to what signes, to what soundes, to what voices, thei ought to obeie, and to practise them in soche wise in the battaile, and with fained assaultes, that thei may desire the verie thyng in deede. For that an armie is not made coragious, bicause in thesame be hardie menne, but by reason the orders thereof bee well appoineted: For as moche as if I be one of the first faighters, and do knowe, beyng overcome, where I maie retire, and who hath to succeade in my place, I shall alwaies faight with boldnes, seing my succour at hand. If I shall be one of the seconde faighters, the first being driven backe,  and overthrowen, I shall not bee afraied, for that I shall have presuposed that I maie bee, and I shall have desire to be thesame, whiche maie give the victory to my maister, and not to bee any of the other. These exercises bee moste necessarie, where an armie is made of newe, and where the old armie is, thei bee also necessarie: for that it is also seen, how the Romaines knew from their infancie, thorder of their armies, notwithstandyng, those capitaines before thei should come to thenemie, continually did exercise them in those. And Josephus in his historie saieth, that the continuall exercises of the Romaine armies, made that all thesame multitude, whiche folowe the campe for gain, was in the daie of battaile profitable: bicause thei all knewe, how to stande in the orders, and to faight kepyng the same: but in the armies of newe men, whether thou have putte theim together, to faight straight waie, or that thou make a power to faight, when neede requires, without these exercises, as well of the battailes severally by themselves, as of all the armie, is made nothing: wherefore the orders beying necessarie, it is conveniente with double industrie and laboure, to shewe them unto soche as knoweth them not, and for to teache it, many excellent capitaines have travailed, without any respecte.

COSIMO. My thinkes that this reasoning, hath sumwhat transported you: for asmoche, as havyng not yet declared the waies, with the whiche the battailes bee exercised, you have reasoned of the whole armie, and of the daie of battaile.

The chief importance in the exercisyng of bandes of men; Three principall for thorderyng of menne into battaile raie; The manner how to bryng a bande of men into battaile raie after a square facion; The better waie for the ordring of a band of men in battaile raie, after the first facion; How to exercise men, and to take soche order, whereby a band of men that were by whatsoever chance disordred maye straighte wai be brought into order againe; What advertisement ought to bee used in tourning about a whole bande of menne, after soche sorte, as though it were but one bodie; How to order a band of menne after soche sort that thei maie make their front againste thenemie of whiche flanke thei list; How a band of man oughte to be ordered, when in marchyng thei should bee constrained to faighton their backes.

FABRICIO. You saie truth, but surely thoccasion hath been the affection, whiche I beare to these orders, and the grief that I feele, seyng thei be not put in use: notwithstanding, doubt not but that I will tourne to the purpose: as I have saied, the chief importaunce that is in thexercise of the battailes, is to knowe how to kepe well the armies: and bicause I tolde you that one of these battailes, ought to bee made of fower hundred men heavie armed, I wil staie my self upon this nomber. Thei ought then to be brought into lxxx. rankes, and five to a ranke: afterward goyng  fast, or softly, to knit them together, and to lose them: the whiche how it is dooen, maie bee shewed better with deedes, then with wordes. Which nedeth not gretly to be taught, for that every manne, whom is practised in servise of warre, knoweth how this order procedeth, whiche is good for no other, then to use the souldiours to keepe the raie: but let us come to putte together one of these battailes, I saie, that there is given them three facions principally, the firste, and the moste profitablest is, to make al massive, and to give it the facion of two squares, the second is, to make it square with the front horned, the thirde is, to make it with a voide space in the middest: the maner to put men together in the first facion, maie be of twoo sortes, tho together in the first facion, maie be of twoo sortes, thone is to double the rankes, that is, to make the seconde ranke enter into the first, the iiii. into the third, the sixt into the fift, and so foorth, so that where there was lxxx. rankes, five to a ranke, thei maie become xl. rankes, x. to a ranke. Afterward cause theim to double ones more in thesame maner, settyng the one ranke into an other, and so there shall remain twentie rankes, twentie men to a ranke: this maketh twoo squares aboute, for as moche as albeit that there bee as many men the one waie, as in the other, notwithstandyng to wardes the hedde, thei joine together, that the one side toucheth the other: but by the other waie, thei be distant the one from the other, at least a yarde and a haulfe, after soche sorte, that the square is moche longer, from the backe to the fronte, then from the one side to thother: and bicause we have at this presente, to speake often of the partes afore, of behinde, and of the sides of these battailes, and of all the armie together, knowe you, that when I saie either hedde or fronte, I meane the parte afore, when I shall saie backe, the part behind, when I shall saie flankes, the partes on the sides. The fiftie ordinarie veliti of the battaile, muste not mingle with the other rankes, but so sone as the battaile is facioned, thei shalbe set a long by the flankes therof. The other waie to set together the battaile is this, and bicause it is better then the firste, I will set it before your ives juste, how it  ought to bee ordeined. I beleve that you remember of what nomber of menne, of what heddes it is made, and of what armours thei are armed, then the facion, that this battaile ought to have, is (as I have saied) of twentie rankes, twentie men to a ranke, five rankes of Pikes in the front, and fiftene rankes of Targaettes on the backe, twoo Centurions standying in the fronte, twoo behinde on the backe, who shall execute the office of those, whiche the antiquitie called Tergiductori. The Conestable with the Ansigne, and with the Drumme, shall stande in thesame space, that is betwene the five rankes of the Pikes, and the fiftene of the Targeaettes. Of the Peticapitaines, there shall stande one upon every side of the ranckes, so that every one, maie have on his side his men, those peticapitaines, whiche shalbe on the left hande, to have their men on the right hand, those Peticapitaines, whiche shall be on the right hand, to have their menne on the left hande: The fiftie Veliti, muste stande a long the flankes, and on the backe of the battaile. To mynde now, that this battaile maie be set together in this facion, the men goyng ordinarily, it is convenient to order them thus. Make the men to be brought into lxxx. rankes, five to a ranke, as a little afore we have said, leavyng the Veliti either at the hedde, or at the taile, so that thei stande out of this order: and it ought to be ordeined, that every Centurion have behinde his back twentie rankes, and to bee nexte behinde every Centurion, five rankes of Pikes, and the reste Targaettes. The Conestable shall stande with the Drum, and the Ansigne, in thesame space, whiche is betwene the Pikes, and the Targaettes of the seconde Centurion, and to occupie the places of three Targaette men. Of the Peticapitaines, twentie shall stand on the sides of the rankes, of the first Centurion, on the lefte hande, and twentie shall stande on the sides of the rankes, of the last Centurion on the right hande. And you muste understande, that the Peticapitaine, whiche hath to leade the Pikes, ought to have a Pike, and those that leade the Targaettes, ought to have like weapons. Then the rankes beyng brought into this order, and mindyng in marchyng,  to bryng them into battaile, for to make the hedde, the first Centurion must be caused to stande still, with the firste twentie rankes, and the seconde to proceade marchyng, and tournyng on the right hand, he must go a long the sides of the twentie rankes that stande still, till he come to bee even with the other Centurion, where he must also stande still, and the thirde Centurion to procede marchyng, likewise tournyng on the right hand, and a long the sides of the rankes that stande still, must go so farre, that he be even with the other twoo Centurions, and he also standyng still, the other Centurion must folowe with his rankes, likewise tournyng on the right hande, a longe the sides of the rankes that stande still, so farre that he come to the hed of the other, and then to stand still, and straight waie twoo Centurions onely, shall depart from the front, and go to the backe of the battaile, the whiche cometh to bee made in thesame maner, and with thesame order juste, as a little afore I have shewed you. The Veliti muste stande a long, by the flankes of thesame, accordyng as is disposed in the first waie, whiche waie is called redoublyng by right line, this is called redoublyng by flanke: the first waie is more easie, this is with better order, and commeth better to passe, and you maie better correcte it, after your owne maner, for that in redoublyng by righte line, you muste bee ruled by the nomber, bicause five maketh ten, ten twentie, twentie fourtie, so that with redoublyng by right line, you cannot make a hedde of fiftene, nor of five and twentie, nor of thirtie, nor of five and thirtie, but you must go where thesame nomber will leade you. And yet it happeneth every daie in particulare affaires, that it is convenient to make the forwarde with sixe hundred, or eight hundred men, so that to redouble by right line, should disorder you: therefore this liketh me better: that difficultie that is, ought moste with practise, and with exercise to bee made easie. Therefore I saie unto you, how it importeth more then any thyng, to have the souldiours to know how to set themselves in araie quickly, and it is necessarie to keepe theim in this battaile, to exercise theim therin, and  to make them to go apace, either forward or backward, to passe through difficulte places, without troublyng thorder: for asmoche as the souldiours, whiche can doe this well, be expert souldiours, and although thei have never seen enemies in the face, thei maie be called old souldiours, and contrariwise, those whiche cannot keepe these orders, though thei have been in a thousande warres, thei ought alwaies to be reputed new souldiours. This is, concernyng setting them together, when thei are marching in small rankes: but beyng set, and after beyng broken by some accident or chaunce, whiche groweth either of the situacion, or of the enemie, to make that in a sodaine, thei maie come into order againe, this is the importaunce and the difficultie, and where is nedefull moche exercise, and moche practise, and wherin the antiquitie bestowed moche studie. Therefore it is necessarie to doe twoo thynges, firste to have this battaile full of countersignes, the other, to keepe alwaies this order, that those same men maie stand alwaies in the ranke, which thei were firste placed in: as for insample, if one have begon to stande in the seconde, that he stande after alwaie in that, and not onely in that self same rancke, but in that self same place: for the observyng whereof (as I have saied) bee necessarie many countersignes. In especially it is requisite, that the Ansigne bee after soche sorte countersigned, that companyng with the other battailes, it maie be knowen from theim, accordyng as the Conestable, and the Centurions have plumes of fethers in their heddes differente, and easie to be knowen, and that whiche importeth moste, is to ordaine that the peticapitaines bee knowen. Whereunto the antiquitie had so moche care, that thei would have nothing els written in their hedde peces, but the nomber that thei were named by, callyng them firste, seconde, thirde, and fourthe xc. And yet thei were not contented with this, but made every souldiour to have written in his Targaet, the nomber of the ranke, and the nomber of the place, in whiche ranke he was appoineted. Then the menne being countersigned thus, and used to stande betwene these limites, it is an easie thyng, thei  beyng disordered, to sett theim all againe quickly into order: considering, that the Ansigne standyng still, the Centurions, and the Peticapitaines maie gesse their places by the iye, and beyng brought the left of the left, the right of the right, with their accustomed distance, the souldiours led by their rule, and by the differences of the cognisances, maie be quickly in their proper places, no otherwise, then as if the boordes of a tunne should bee taken a sunder, whiche beyng first marked, moste easely maie bee set together again, where thesame beyng not countersigned, were impossible to bryng into order any more. These thynges, with diligence and with exercise, are quickely taught, and quickly learned, and beyng learned, with difficultie are forgotten: for that the newe menne, be led of the olde, and with tyme, a Province with these exercises, may become throughly practised in the war. It is also necessarie to teache theim, to tourne theim selves all at ones, and when neede requires, to make of the flankes, and of the backe, the fronte, and of the front, flankes, or backe, whiche is moste easie: bicause it suffiseth that every manne doe tourne his bodie, towardes thesame parte that he is commaunded, and where thei tourne their faces, there the fronte commeth to bee. True it is, that when thei tourne to any of the flanckes, the orders tourne out of their proporcion: for that from the breast to the backe, there is little difference, and from the one flancke to the other, there is verie moche distance, the whiche is al contrarie to the ordinarie order of the battaile: therefore it is convenient, that practise, and discrecion, doe place them as thei ought to be: but this is small disorder, for that moste easely by themselves, thei maie remedie it. But that whiche importeth more, and where is requisite more practise, is when a battaile would tourne all at ones, as though it were a whole bodie, here is meete to have greate practise, and greate discrecion: bicause mindyng to tourne, as for insample on the left hande, the left corner must stande still, and those that be next to hym that standeth still, muste marche so softly, that thei that bee in the right corner, nede not to runne: otherwise  all thing should be confounded. But bicause it happeneth alwaies, when an armie marcheth from place to place, that the battailes, whiche are not placed in the front, shall be driven to faight not by hedde, but either by flancke, or by backe, so that a battaile muste in a sodaine make of flancke, or of backe, hedde: and mindyng that like battailes in soche cace, maie have their proporcion, as above is declared, it is necessarie, that thei have the Pikes on thesame flancke, that ought to be hedde, and the Peticapitaines, Centurions, and Conestables, to resorte accordyngly to their places. Therefore to mynde to dooe this, in plasyng them together, you must ordeine the fower skore rankes, of five in a ranke, thus: Set all the Pikes in the first twentie rankes, and place the Peticapitaines thereof, five in the first places, and five in the last: the other three score rankes, whiche come after, bee all of Targaettes, whiche come to bee three Centuries. Therefore, the first and the laste ranke of every Centurion, would be Peticapitaines, the Conestable with the Ansigne, and with the Drumme, muste stande in the middest of the first Centurie of Targaettes, and the Centurions in the hed of every Centurie. The bande thus ordained, when you would have the Pikes to come on the left flancke, you must redouble Centurie by Centurie, on the right flancke: if you would have them to come on the right flancke, you must redouble theim on the lefte. And so this battaile tourneth with the Pikes upon a flancke, and the Conestable in the middeste: the whiche facion it hath marchyng: but the enemie commyng, and the tyme that it would make of flancke hedde, it nedeth not but to make every man to tourne his face, towardes thesame flancke, where the Pikes be, and then the battaile tourneth with the rankes, and with the heddes in thesame maner, as is aforesaied: for that every man is in his place, excepte the Centurions, and the Centurions straight waie, and without difficultie, place themselves: But when thei in marchyng, should bee driven to faight on the backe, it is convenient to ordein the rankes after soch sorte, that settyng theim in battaile, the Pikes maie come behinde, and to doe this, there is to bee kepte  no other order, then where in orderyng the battaile, by the ordinarie, every Centurie hath five rankes of Pikes before, to cause that thei maie have them behind, and in all the other partes to observe thorder, whiche I declared firste.

COSIMO. You have tolde (if I dooe well remember me) that this maner of exercise, is to bee able to bryng these battailes together into an armie, and that this practise, serveth to be able to order theim selves in the same: But if it should happen, that these CCCCL. men, should have to doe an acte seperate, how would you order them?

How a battaile is made with twoo hornes; The orderyng of a battaile with a voide space in the middeste.

FABRICIO. He that leadeth them, ought then to judge, where he will place the Pikes, and there to put them, the whiche doeth not repugne in any part to the order above written: for that also, though thesame bee the maner, that is observed to faighte a fielde, together with thother battailes, notwithstandyng it is a rule, whiche serveth to all those waies, wherein a band of menne should happen to have to doe: but in shewyng you the other twoo waies of me propounded, of ordering the battailes, I shal also satisfie you more to your question: for that either thei are never used, or thei are used when a battaile is a lone, and not in companie of other, and to come to the waie of ordering them, with twoo hornes, I saie, that thou oughteste to order the lxxx. rankes, five to a ranke, in this maner. Place in the middest, one Centurion, and after hym xxv. rankes, whiche muste bee with twoo Pikes on the lefte hande, and with three Targaettes on the right, and after the first five, there must be put in the twentie folowyng, twentie Peticapitaines, all betwene the pikes, and the Targaettes, excepte those whiche beare the Pike, whom maie stand with the Pikes: after these xxv. rankes thus ordered, there is to be placed an other Centurion, and behinde hym fiftene rankes of Targaettes: after these, the Conestable betwene the Drum and the Ansigne, who also must have after him, other fiftene rankes of Targaettes: after this, the thirde Centurion must be placed, and behinde hym, xxv. rankes,  in every one of whiche, ought to bee three Targaettes on the lefte flancke, and twoo Pikes on the right, and after the five first rankes, there must be xx. Peticapitaines placed betwene the Pikes, and the Targaettes: after these rankes, the fowerth Centurion must folowe. Intendying therefore, of these rankes thus ordered, to make a battaile with twoo hornes, the first Centurion must stand still, with the xxv. rankes, whiche be behinde him, after the second Centurion muste move, with the fiftene rankes of Targaettes, that bee behinde hym, and to tourne on the right hande, and up by the right flancke of the xxv. rankes, to go so farre, that he arrive to the xv. ranke, and there to stande still: after, the Conestable muste move, with the fiftene rankes of Targaettes, whiche be behinde hym, and tournyng likewise on the right hande, up by the right flancke of the fiftene rankes, that wer firste moved, muste marche so farre, that he come to their heddes, and there to stand stil: after, the thirde Centurion muste move with the xxv. rankes, and with the fowerth Centurion, whiche was behinde, and turnyng up straight, must go a long by the right flanck of the fiftene last rankes of the Targaettes, and not to stande still when he is at the heddes of them, but to followe marchyng so farre, that the laste ranke of the xxv. maie come to be even with the rankes behinde. And this dooen, the Centurion, whiche was hedde of the firste fiftene rankes of Targaettes, must go awaie from thens where he stoode, and go to the backe in the lefte corner: and thus a battaile shall be made of xxv. rankes, after twentie men to a rank, with two hornes, upon every side of the front, one horn, and every one, shall have ten rankes, five to a ranke, and there shall remain a space betwene the twoo hornes, as moche as containeth ten men, whiche tourne their sides, the one to thother. Betwene the two hornes, the capitain shall stande, and on every poinct of a horne, a Centurion: There shall bee also behinde, on every corner, a Centurion: there shal be twoo rankes of Pikes, and xx. Peticapitaines on every flancke. These twoo hornes, serve to kepe betwene theim the artillerie, when this battaile should have any  withit, and the cariages: The Veliti muste stande a long the flankes, under the Pikes. But mindyng to bring this horned battaile, with a voide space in the middeste, there ought no other to bee doen, then of fiftene rankes, of twentie to a ranke, to take eight rankes, and to place them on the poinctes of the twoo hornes, whiche then of hornes, become backe of the voide space, in this place, the cariages are kept, the capitain standeth, and the Ansigne, but never the Artillerie, the whiche is placed either in the front, or a long the flankes. These be the waies, that a battaile maie use when it is constrained to passe alone through suspected places: notwithstandyng, the massive battaile without hornes, and without any soche voide place is better, yet purposyng to assure the disarmed, the same horned battaile is necessarie. The Suizzers make also many facions of battailes, emong which, thei make one like unto a crosse: bicause in the spaces that is betwen the armes therof, thei kepe safe their Harkebuters from the daunger of the enemies: but bicause soche battailes be good to faight by theim selves, and my intente is to shew, how many battailes united, do faight with thenemie, I wil not labour further in describing them.

COSIMO. My thinkes I have verie well comprehended the waie, that ought to be kept to exercise the men in these battailes: But (if I remember me well) you have saied, how that besides the tenne battailes, you joyne to the maine battaile, a thousande extraordinarie Pikes, and five hundred extraordinarie Veliti: will you not appoincte these to be exercised?

To what purpose the Pikes and Velite extraordinarie must serve.

FABRICIO. I would have theim to bee exercised, and that with moste great diligence: and the Pikes I would exercise, at leaste Ansigne after Ansigne, in the orders of the battailes, as the other: For as moche as these should doe me more servise, then the ordinarie battailes, in all particulare affaires: as to make guides, to get booties, and to doe like thynges: but the Veliti, I would exercise at home, without bringing them together, for that their office being to faight a sonder, it is not mete, that thei should companie with  other, in the common exercises: for that it shall suffice, to exercise them well in the particular exercises. Thei ought then (as I firste tolde you, nor now me thynkes no labour to rehearse it againe) to cause their men to exercise them selves in these battailes, whereby thei maie knowe how to kepe the raie, to knowe their places, to tourne quickly, when either enemie, or situacion troubleth them: for that, when thei knowe how to do this, the place is after easely learned, which a battaile hath to kepe, and what is the office thereof in the armie: and when a Prince, or a common weale, will take the paine, and will use their diligence in these orders, and in these exercisyng, it shall alwaies happen, that in their countrie, there shall bee good souldiours, and thei to be superiours to their neighbours, and shalbe those, whiche shall give, and not receive the lawes of other men: but (as I have saied) the disorder wherein thei live, maketh that thei neclecte, and doe not esteme these thynges, and therefore our armies be not good: and yet though there were either hed, or member naturally vertuous, thei cannot shewe it.

COSIMO. What carriages would you, that every one of these battailes should have?

Neither Centurion nor Peticapitaine, ought not to ride; What carriages the Capitaines ought to have, and the nomber of carrages requisite to every bande of menne.

FABRICIO. Firste, I would that neither Centurion, nor Peticapitain, should be suffered to ride: and if the Conestable would nedes ride, I would that he should have a Mule, and not a horse: I would allowe hym twoo carriages, and one to every Centurion, and twoo to every three Peticapitaines, for that so many wee lodge in a lodgyng, as in the place therof we shall tell you: So that every battaile will come to have xxxvi. carriages, the whiche I would should carrie of necessitie the tentes, the vesselles to seeth meate, axes, barres of Iron, sufficient to make the lodgynges, and then if thei can carry any other thyng, thei maie dooe it at their pleasure.

COSIMO. I beleve that the heddes of you, ordeined in every one of these battailes, be necessarie: albeit, I would doubt, lest that so many commaunders, should confounde all.

Without many capitaines, an armie cannot be governed; To what purpose Ansignes ought to serve; For what purpose Drummes oughte to bee used; The propertie that soundes of instrumentes have in mens myndes.

FABRICIO. That should bee, when it were not referred to  one man, but referryng it, thei cause order, ye and without theim, it is impossible to governe an armie: for that a wall, whiche on every parte enclineth, requireth rather to have many proppes, and thicke, although not so strong, then fewe, though thei were strong: bicause the vertue of one a lone, doeth not remedie the ruine a farre of. And therefore in tharmies, and emong every ten men, it is convenient that there bee one, of more life, of more harte, or at leaste wise of more aucthoritie, who with stomacke, with wordes, and with example, maie kepe them constante, and disposed to faight, and these thynges of me declared, bee necessarie in an armie, as the Heddes, the Ansignes, and the Drummes, is seen that wee have theim all in our armies, but none doeth his office. First to mynde that the Peticapitaines doe thesame, for whiche thei are ordeined, it is necessarie (as I have said) that there bee a difference, betwene every one of them and their men, and that thei lodge together, doyng their duties, standyng in thorder with them: for that thei placed in their places, bee a rule and a temperaunce, to maintaine the raies straight and steddie, and it is impossible that thei disorder, or disorderyng, dooe not reduce themselves quickly into their places. But we now adaies, doe not use them to other purpose, then to give theim more wages, then to other menne, and to cause that thei dooe some particulare feate: The very same happeneth of the Ansigne bearers, for that thei are kept rather to make a faire muster, then for any other warlike use: but the antiquitie used theim for guides, and to bryng theim selves againe into order: for that every man, so sone as the Ansigne stoode still, knewe the place, that he kept nere to his Ansigne, wherunto he retourned alwaies: thei knewe also, how that the same movyng, or standyng, thei should staie, or move: therfore it is necessarie in an armie, that there be many bodies, and every bande of menne to have his Ansigne, and his guide: wherfore havyng this, it is mete that thei have stomackes inough, and by consequence life enough. Then the menne ought to marche, accordyng to the Ansigne: and the Ansigne to move, accordyng to the  Drumme, the whiche Drumme well ordered, commaundeth to the armie, the whiche goyng with paces, that answereth the tyme of thesame, will come to kepe easilie thorders: for whiche cause the antiquitie had Shalmes, Flutes, and soundes perfectly tymed: For as moche as like as he that daunseth, proceadeth with the tyme of the Musick, and goyng with thesame doeth not erre, even so an armie obeiyng, in movyng it self to thesame sounde, doeth not disorder: and therefore, thei varied the sounde, accordyng as thei would varie the mocion, and accordyng as thei would inflame, or quiete, or staie the mindes of men: and like as the soundes were divers, so diversly thei named them: the sounde Dorico, ingendered constancie, the sounde Frigio, furie: whereby thei saie, that Alexander beyng at the Table, and one soundyng the sounde Frigio, it kendled so moche his minde, that he laied hande on his weapons. All these maners should be necessarie to finde again: and when this should bee difficulte, at least there would not be left behind those that teache the Souldiour to obeie, the whiche every man maie varie, and ordeine after his owne facion, so that with practise, he accustome the eares of his souldiours to knowe it: But now adaies of this sounde, there is no other fruicte taken for the moste part, then to make a rumour.

COSIMO. I would desire to understande of you, if ever with your self you have discourced, whereof groweth so moche vilenesse, and so moche disorder, and so moche necligence in these daies of this exercise?

A notable discourse of the aucthour, declaryng whereof groweth so moche vilenes disorder and necligence in these daies, concernyng the exercises of warre.

FABRICIO. With a good will I will tell you thesame, that I thinke. You knowe how that of the excellente men of warre, there hath been named many in Europe, fewe in Affric, and lesse in Asia: this grewe, for that these twoo laste partes of the worlde, have had not paste one kyngdome, or twoo, and fewe common weales, but Europe onely, hath had many kyngdomes, and infinite common weales, where menne became excellent, and did shewe their vertue, accordyng as thei were sette a woorke, and brought before their Prince, or common weale, or king that he be: it  followeth therefore, that where be many dominions, there rise many valiaunt menne, and where be fewe, fewe. In Asia is founde Ninus, Cirus, Artasercses, Mithridates: and verie fewe other, that to these maie be compared. In Africk, is named (lettyng stande thesame auncient Egipt) Massinissa, Jugurta, and those Capitaines, whiche of the Carthaginens common weale were nourished, whom also in respecte to those of Europe, are moste fewe: bicause in Europe, be excellente men without nomber, and so many more should be, if together with those should bee named the other, that be through the malignitie of time extincte: for that the worlde hath been moste vertuous, where hath been moste states, whiche have favoured vertue of necessitie, or for other humaine passion. There rose therfore in Asia, fewe excellente menne: bicause thesame Province, was all under one kyngdome, in the whiche for the greatnesse thereof, thesame standing for the moste parte of tyme idell, there could not growe men in doynges excellent. To Africke there happened the verie same, yet there were nourished more then in Asia, by reason of the Carthaginens common weale: for that in common weales, there growe more excellent men, then in kingdomes, bicause in common weales for the most part, vertue is honoured, in Kyngdomes it is helde backe: wherby groweth, that in thone, vertuous men are nourished, in the other thei are extincte. Therefore he that shall consider the partes of Europe, shall finde it to have been full of common weales, and of princedomes, the whiche for feare, that the one had of the other, thei wer constrained to kepe lively the warlike orders, and to honor them, whiche in those moste prevailed: for that in Grece, besides the kyngdome of the Macedonians, there were many common weales, and in every one of theim, were bred moste excellente men. In Italie, were the Romaines, the Sannites, the Toscanes, the Gallie Cisalpini. Fraunce, and Almainie, wer ful of common weales and princedomes. Spaine likewise: and although in comparison of the Romaines, there are named fewe other, it groweth through the malignitie of the writers, whom folowe fortune,  and to theim for the moste parte it suffised, to honour the conquerours: but it standeth not with reason, that betwene the Sannites, and the Toscanes, whom fought CL. yeres with the Romaine people, before thei wer overcome, there should not growe exceadyng many excellente menne. And so likewise in Fraunce, and in Spaine: but that vertue, whiche the writers did not celebrate in particuler menne, thei celebrated generally in the people, where thei exalte to the starres, the obstinatenesse that was in them, to defende their libertie. Beyng then true, that where bee moste dominions, there riseth moste valiaunt menne, it foloweth of necessitie, that extinguishyng those, vertue is extincte straighte waie, the occasion decaiyng, whiche maketh menne vertuous. Therefore, the Romaine Empire beyng after increased, and havyng extinguished all the common weales, and Princedomes of Europe, and of Afrike, and for the moste part those of Asia, it lefte not any waie to vertue, excepte Rome: whereby grewe, that vertuous menne began to be as fewe in Europe, as in Asia: the whiche vertue, came after to the laste caste: For as moche, as all the vertue beyng reduced to Roome, so sone as thesame was corrupted, almoste all the worlde came to bee corrupted: and the Scithian people, were able to come to spoile thesame Empire, the whiche had extinguished the vertue of other, and knewe not howe to maintaine their owne: and after, although through the inundacion of those barberous nacions, thesame Empire was devided into many partes, this vertue is not renued:

The causes why the aunciente orders are neclected.

The one cause is, for that it greveth theim moche, to take againe the orders when thei are marde, the other, bicause the maner of livyng now adaies, having respect to the Christian religion, commaundeth not thesame necessitie to menne, to defende themselves, whiche in olde tyme was: for that then, the menne overcome in warre, either were killed, or remained perpetuall slaves, where thei led their lives moste miserably: The tounes overcome, either were rased, or the inhabiters thereof driven out, their goodes taken awaie, sent dispersed through the worlde: so that the vanquished in warre, suffered all extreme miserie:  of this feare, men beyng made afraied, thei wer driven to kepe lively the warlike exercises, and thei honoured soche as were excellente in theim: But nowe adaies, this feare for the moste part is not regarded: of those that are overcom, fewe bee killed, none is kepte longe in prison: for that with facelitie, thei are sette at libertie: the citees also, whiche a thousande tymes have rebelled, are not destroied, the men wherof, are let a lone with their goodes, so that the greateste hurte that is feared, is but a taske: in so moche, that men will not submit them selves to the orders of warre, and to abide alwaies under those, to avoide the perilles whereof thei are little afraied: again these Provinces of Europe, be under a verie fewe heddes, in respecte as it hath been in times past: for that al Fraunce, obeieth one kyng, al Spain, an other: Italie is in fewe partes, so that the weake citees, are defended with leanyng to hym that overcometh, and the strong states, for the causes aforesaied, feare no soche extreme ruine.

COSIMO. Yet ther hath ben seen many tounes that have ben sacked within this xxv. yeres, and lost their dominions, whose insample, ought to teache other how to live, and to take again some of those old orders.

FABRICIO. You saie true: but if you note what tounes have gone to sacke, you shall not finde that thei have been the heddes of states, but of the members; as was seen sacked Tortona, and not Milaine: Capua, and not Napelles, Brescia, and not Venice, Ravenna, and not Roome: the whiche insamples maketh those that governe, not to chaunge their purposes, but rather maketh them to stande more in their opinion, to be able to redeme again all thynges with taskes, and for this, thei will not submit theim selves to the troubles of thexercises of warre, semyng unto them partly not necessarie, partly, an intrinsicate matter, whiche thei understande not: Those other, whiche bee subjectes to them, whom soche insamples ought to make afraied, have no power to remedie it: and those Princes, that have ones loste their estates, are no more able, and those which as yet kept them, know not, nor wil not. Bicause thei will  without any disease rain by fortune, and not by their vertue: for that in the worlde beyng but little vertue, thei see fortune governeth all thynges. And thei will have it to rule theim, not thei to rule it. And to prove this that I have discoursed to bee true, consider Almaine, in the whiche, bicause there is many Princedomes, and common weales, there is moche vertue, and all thesame, whiche in the present service of warre is good, dependeth of the insamples of those people: who beyng all gellious of their states, fearing servitude, the which in other places is not feared, thei all maintaine theim selves Lordes, and honourable: this that I have saied, shall suffice to shewe the occacions of the presente utilitie, accordyng to my opinion: I cannot tell, whether it seeme thesame unto you, or whether there be growen in you any doubtyng.

COSIMO. None, but rather I understande all verie well: onely I desire, tournyng to our principall matter, to understande of you, how you would ordein the horses with these battailes, and how many, and how thei should be governed, and how armed.

The armyng of horsemen; The weapons that light horsmenne should have; The nombre of horsmen requisite for a maine bataille of six thousand men; The nombre of carrages that men of armes and light horsmen ought to have.

FABRICIO. You thinke peraventure, that I have left it behinde: whereat doe not marvell, for that I purpose for twoo causes, to speake therof little, the one is, for that the strengthe, and the importaunce of an armie, is the footemen, the other is, bicause this part of service of warre, is lesse corrupted, then thesame of footemen. For that though it be not stronger then the old, yet it maie compare with thesame, nevertheles ther hath been spoken a little afore, of the maner of exercisyng them. And concernyng tharmyng them, I would arme them as thei doe at this present, as wel the light horsemen, as the menne of armes: but the light horsemen, I would that thei should be all Crossebowe shuters, with some Harkebutters emong them: the whiche though in the other affaires of warre, thei bee little profitable, thei be for this most profitable, to make afraied the countrie menne, and to drive them from a passage, that were kept of them: bicause a Harkebutter, shall feare them more, then twentie other armed. But commyng to the  nomber, I saie, that having taken in hand, to imitate the service of warre of the Romaines, I would not ordein more then three hundred horse, profitable for every maine battaile, of whiche I would that there were CL. men of armes, and CL. light horsmen, and I would give to every one of these partes, a hedde, making after emong them fiftene peticapitaines for a bande, givyng to every one of them a Trompet, and a standarde: I would that every ten menne of armes, should have five carriages, and every ten light horsemen twoo, the whiche as those of the footemen, should carrie the tentes, the vesselles, and the axes, and the stakes, and the rest of their other harneis. Nor beleve not but that it is disorder, where the menne of armes have to their service fower horse, bicause soche a thyng is a corrupt use: for that the men of armes in Almaine, are seen to bee with their horse alone, every twentie of theim, havyng onely a carte, that carrieth after them their necessary thynges. The Romaine horsemen, were likewise a lone: true it is, that the Triary lodged nere them, whiche wer bound to minister helpe unto theim, in the kepyng of their horses the whiche maie easely be imitated of us, as in the distributyng of the lodgynges, I shall shewe you. Thesame then that the Romaines did, and that whiche the Duchmen doe now a daies, we maie doe also, ye, not doyng it, we erre. These horses ordained and appoincted together with a main battaile, maie sometymes be put together, when the battailes bee assembled, and to cause that betwene theim bee made some sight of assault, the whiche should be more to make them acquainted together, then for any other necessitie. But now of this part, there hath been spoke sufficiently, wherefore let us facion the armie, to be able to come into the field against the enemie, and hope to winne it: whiche thyng is the ende, for whiche the exercise of warre is ordeined, and so moche studie therein bestowed.

THE THIRDE BOOKE

COSIMO. Seeing that we chaunge reasonyng, I will that the demaunder be chaunged: bicause I would not be thought presumptuous, the which I have alwaies blamed in other: therfore, I resigne the Dictatorship, and give this aucthoritie to hym that will have it, of these my other frendes.

ZANOBI. We would be moste glad, that you should procede, but seyng that you will not, yet tell at leaste, whiche of us shall succede in your place.

COSIMO. I will give this charge to signor Fabricio.

FABRICIO. I am content to take it, and I will that we folowe the Venecian custome, that is, that the youngeste speake firste: bicause this beyng an exercise for yong men, I perswade my self, that yong menne, bee moste apt to reason thereof, as thei be moste readie to execute it.

COSIMO. Then it falleth to you Luigi: and as I have pleasure of soche a successour, so you shal satisfie your self of soche a demaunder: therefore I praie you, let us tourne to the matter, and let us lese no more tyme.

The greateste disorder that is used now a daies in pitching of a fielde; The order how a Romain Legion was appoincted to faight; The maner that the Grekes used in their Falangi, when thei fought against their enemies; The order that the Suizzers use in their main battailes when thei faight; Howe to appoincte a main battaile with armour and weapons, and to order thesame after the Greke and Romain maner.

FABRICIO. I am certain, that to mynde to shewe wel, how an armie is prepared, to faight a fielde, it should be necessarie to declare, how the Grekes, and the Romaines ordeined the bandes of their armies: Notwithstandyng, you your selves, beeyng able to rede, and to consider these tnynges, by meanes of the auncient writers. I will passe  over many particulars: and I will onely bryng in those thynges, whiche I thinke necessarie to imitate, mindyng at this tyme, to give to our exercise of warre, some parte of perfection: The whiche shall make, that in one instant, I shall shewe you, how an armie is prepared to the field, and how it doeth incounter in the verie faight, and how it maie be exercised in the fained. The greatest disorder, that thei make, whiche ordeine an armie to the fielde, is in giving them onely one fronte, and to binde them to one brunt, and to one fortune: the whiche groweth, of havyng loste the waie, that the antiquitie used to receive one bande within an other: bicause without this waie, thei can neither succour the formoste, nor defende them, nor succede in the faight in their steede: the whiche of the Romaines, was moste excellently well observed. Therefore, purposyng to shewe this waie, I saie, how that the Romaines devided into iii. partes every Legion, in Hastati, Prencipi, and Triarii, of which, the Hastati wer placed in the first front, or forward of the armie, with thorders thicke and sure, behinde whom wer the Prencipi, but placed with their orders more thinne: after these, thei set the Triarii, and with so moche thinnes of orders, that thei might, if nede wer, receive betwene them the Prencipi, and the Hastati. Thei had besides these, the Slingers, and Crosbowshoters, and the other lighte armed, the whiche stoode not in these orders, but thei placed them in the bed of tharmie, betwene the horses and the other bandes of footemen: therefore these light armed, began the faight, if thei overcame (whiche happened seldom times) thei folowed the victorie: if thei were repulced, thei retired by the flanckes of the armie, or by the spaces ordained for soche purposes, and thei brought them selves emong the unarmed: after the departure of whom, the Hastati incountered with the enemie, the whiche if thei saw themselves to be overcome, thei retired by a little and little, by the rarenesse of thorders betwene the Prencipi, and together with those, thei renued the faight if these also wer repulced, thei retired al in the rarenesse of the orders of the Triarii, and al together on a heape,  began againe the faight: and then, if thei were overcome, there was no more remeady, bicause there remained no more waies to renue them again. The horses stoode on the corners of the armie, to the likenes of twoo winges to a bodie, and somewhiles thei fought with the enemies horses, an other while, thei rescued the fotmen, according as nede required. This waie of renuyng theim selves three tymes, is almoste impossible to overcome: for that, fortune muste three tymes forsake thee, and the enemie to have so moche strengthe, that three tymes he maie overcome thee. The Grekes, had not in their Falangi, this maner of renuyng them selves, and although in those wer many heddes, and many orders, notwithstandyng, thei made one bodie, or els one hedde: the maner that thei kepte in rescuyng the one the other was, not to retire the one order within the other, as the Romaines, but to enter the one manne into the place of the other: the which thei did in this maner. Their Falange brought into rankes, and admit, that thei put in a ranke fiftie menne, commyng after with their hedde againste the enemie, of all the rankes the foremoste sixe, mighte faight: Bicause their Launces, the whiche thei called Sarisse, were so long, that the sixt ranke, passed with the hedde of their Launces, out of the first ranke: then in faightyng, if any of the first, either through death, or through woundes fell, straight waie there entered into his place, thesame man, that was behinde in the second ranke, and in the place that remained voide of the seconde, thesame man entred, whiche was behind hym in the thirde, and thus successively, in a sodaine the rankes behinde, restored the faultes of those afore, so that the rankes alwaies remained whole, and no place of the faighters was voide, except the laste rankes, the whiche came to consume, havyng not menne behinde their backes, whom might restore theim: So that the hurte that the first rankes suffered, consumed the laste, and the firste remained alwaies whole: and thus these Falangi by their order, might soner be consumed, then broken, for that the grosse bodie, made it more immovable. The Romaines used at the beginnyng the Falangi, and did set  in order their Legions like unto them: after, this order pleased them not, and thei devided the Legions into many bodies, that is, in bandes and companies: Bicause thei judged (as a little afore I saied) that thesame bodie, should have neede of many capitaines, and that it should be made of sunderie partes, so that every one by it self, might be governed. The maine battailes of the Suizzers, use at this present, all the maners of the Falangi, as well in ordryng it grosse, and whole, as in rescuyng the one the other: and in pitchyng the field, thei set the main battailes, thone to the sides of the other: and though thei set them the one behinde the other, thei have no waie, that the firste retiryng it self, maie bee received of the seconde, but thei use this order, to the entent to bee able to succour the one thother, where thei put a maine battaile before, and an other behinde thesame on the right hande: so that if the first have nede of helpe, that then the other maie make forewarde, and succour it: the third main battaile, thei put behind these, but distant from them, a Harkebus shot: this thei doe, for that thesaid two main battailes being repulced, this maie make forwarde, and have space for theim selves, and for the repulced, and thesame that marcheth forward, to avoide the justling of the one the other: for asmoche as a grosse multitude, cannot bee received as a little bodie: and therefore, the little bodies beyng destincte, whiche were in a Romaine Legion, might be placed in soche wise, that thei might receive betwene theim, and rescue the one the other. And to prove this order of the Suizzers not to be so good, as the auncient Romaines, many insamples of the Romain Legions doe declare, when thei fought with the Grekes Falangi, where alwaies thei were consumed of theim: for that the kinde of their weapons (as I have said afore) and this waie of renuyng themselves, could do more, then the massivenesse of the Falangi. Havyng therefore, with these insamples to ordaine an armie, I have thought good, partly to retaine the maner of armyng and the orders of the Grekes Falangi, and partely of the Romain Legions: and therfore I have saied, that I would have in a main battaile, twoo  thousande pikes, whiche be the weapons of the Macedonicall Falangi, and three thousande Targaettes with sweardes, whiche be the Romain weapons: I have devided the main battaile, into x. battailes, as the Romaines their Legion into ten Cohortes: I have ordeined the Veliti, that is the light armed, to begin the faight, as the Romaines used: and like as the weapons beyng mingled, doe participate of thone and of the other nacion, so the orders also doe participate: I have ordained, that every battaile shall have v. rankes of Pikes in the fronte, and the rest of Targaettes, to bee able with the front, to withstande the horses, and to enter easely into the battaile of the enemies on foot, having in the firste fronte, or vawarde, Pikes, as well as the enemie, the whiche shall suffice me to withstande them, the Targaettes after to overcome theim. And if you note the vertue of this order, you shal se al these weapons, to doe fully their office, for that the Pikes, bee profitable against the horses, and when thei come against the footemenne, thei dooe their office well, before the faight throng together, bicause so sone as thei presse together, thei become unprofitable: wherefore, the Suizzers to avoide this inconvenience, put after everye three rankes of Pikes, a ranke of Halberdes, the whiche they do to make roome to the Pikes, which is not yet so much as suffiseth. Then putting our Pikes afore, and the Targaettes behinde, they come to withstande the horses, and in the beginning of the fight, they open the rayes, and molest the footemen: But when the fight is thrust together, and that they become unprofitable, the Targaettes and swoords succeede, which may in every narowe place be handled.

LUIGI. Wee looke nowe with desire to understande, howe you would ordeyne the armie to fighte the fielde, with these weapons, and with these order.

The nomber of men that was in a Counsulles armie; How the Romaines placed their Legions in the field; How to order an armie in the fielde to fighte a battaile, according to the minde of the authour; How the extraordinary pikes bee placed in the set battaile; The place where thextraordinarie archars and harkebutters, and the men of armes and lighte horsmen ought to stande when the field is pitched, and goeth to faighte the battaile; The ordinarie archars and harkebutters are placed aboute their owne battailes; The place where the generall hedde of a maine battaile muste stande, when thesame power of men is appoincted to faight; What menne a general capitain of a maine battaile oughte to have aboute hym; The place wher a general capitain of all thearmie must stand when the battaile is ready to be fought and what nomber of chosen men oughte to be aboute hym; How many canons is requisite for an armie, and of what sise they ought to bee; Where the artillerie ought to be placed when thearmie is reedie to fight; An armie that were ordered as above is declared, maie in fighting, use the Grekes maner, and the Roman fashion; To what purpose the spaces that be betwene every bande of men do serve.

FABRICIO. And I will not nowe shewe you other, then this: you have to understande, how that in an ordinarye Romane armie, which they call a Consull armie, there were no more, then twoo Legions of Romane Citezens which were sixe hundred horse, and about aleven thousande footemen: they had besides as many more footemen and horsemen,  whiche were sente them from their friends and confiderates, whome they divided into twoo partes, and called the one, the right horne and the other the left horne: nor they never permitted, that these aiding footemen, should passe the nomber of the footemen of their Legions, they were well contented, that the nomber of those horse shoulde be more then theirs: with this armie, which was of xxii. thousand footemen, and about twoo thousande good horse, a Consul executed all affaires, and went to all enterprises: yet when it was needefull to set against a greater force, twoo Consulles joyned together with twoo armies. You ought also to note in especially, that in all the three principall actes, which an armie doth that is, to march, to incampe, and to fight, the Romanes used to put their Legions in the middeste, for that they woulde, that the same power, wherein they most trusted, shoulde bee moste united, as in the reasoning of these three actes, shall be shewed you: those aiding footemen, through the practise they had with the Legion Souldiours, were as profitable as they, because they were instructed, according as the souldiours of the Legions were, and therefore, in like maner in pitching the field, they pitched. Then he that knoweth how the Romaines disposed a Legion in their armie, to fight a field, knoweth how they disposed all: therefor, having tolde you how they devided a Legion into three bandes, and how the one bande received the other, I have then told you, how al tharmie in a fielde, was ordained. Wherefore, I minding to ordain a field like unto the Romaines, as they had twoo Legions, I will take ii. main batailes, and these being disposed, the disposicion of all an armie shalbe understode therby: bycause in joyning more men, there is no other to be doen, then to ingrosse the orders: I thinke I neede not to rehearse how many men a maine battaile hath, and howe it hath ten battailes, and what heades bee in a battaile and what weapons they have, and which be the ordinarie Pikes and Veliti, and which the extraordinarie for that a litle a fore I told you it destinctly, and I willed you to kepe it in memorie as a necessarie thing to purpose, to understande  all the other orders: and therfore I will come to the demonstracion of the order without repeating it any more: Me thinkes good, that the ten battailes of one main battaile be set on the left flanke, and the tenne other, of the other main battaile, on the right: these that are placed on the left flanke, be ordeined in this maner, there is put five battailes the one to the side of the other in the fronte, after suche sorte, that betweene the one and the other, there remaine a space of three yardes, whiche come to occupie for largenesse Cvi. yardes, of ground, and for length thirtie: behinde these five battailes, I would put three other distante by right line from the firste thirtie yardes: twoo of the whiche, should come behinde by right line, to the uttermoste of the five, and the other should kepe the space in the middeste, and so these three, shall come to occupie for bredth and length, as moche space, as the five doeth. But where the five have betwene the one, and the other, a distaunce of three yardes, these shall have a distance of xxv. yardes. After these, I would place the twoo last battailes, in like maner behinde the three by right line, and distaunte from those three, thirtie yardes, and I would place eche of theim, behinde the uttermoste part of the three, so that the space, whiche should remain betwen the one and the other, should be lxviii. yardes: then al these battailes thus ordered, will take in bredth Cvi. yardes, and in length CL. Thextraordinarie Pikes, I would deffende a long the flanckes of these battailes, on the left side, distante from them fiftene yardes, makyng Cxliij. rankes, seven to a ranke, after soche sorte, that thei maie impale with their length, all the left sixe of the tenne battailes in thesame wise, declared of me to be ordained: and there shall remain fourtie rankes to keepe the carriages, and the unarmed, whiche ought to remaine in the taile of the armie, distributyng the Peticapitaines, and the Centurions, in their places: and of the three Conestables, I would place one in the hedde, the other in the middeste, the third in the laste ranke, the whiche should execute the office of a Tergiductore, whom the  antiquitie so called hym, that was appoincted to the backe of the armie. But retournyng to the hedde of the armie, I saie how that I would place nere to the extraordinarie pikes, the Veliti extraordinarie, whiche you knowe to be five hundred, and I would give them a space of xxx. yardes: on the side of these likewise on the left hande, I would place the menne of armes, and I would thei should have a space of a Cxii. yardes: after these, the light horsemen, to whom I would appoinct as moche ground to stande in, as the menne of armes have: the ordinarie veliti, I would leave about their owne battailes, who should stand in those spaces, whiche I appoincte betwene thone battaile and thother: whom should be as their ministers, if sometyme I thought not good to place them under the extraordinarie Pikes: in dooyng or not doyng whereof, I would proceade, accordyng as should tourne best to my purpose. The generall hedde of all the maine battaile, I would place in thesame space, that were betwene the first and the seconde order of the battailes, or els in the hedde, and in thesame space, that is betwene the laste battaile of the firste five, and the extraordinarie Pikes, accordyng as beste should serve my purpose, with thirtie or fourtie chosen men about hym, that knewe by prudence, how to execute a commission, and by force, to withstande a violence, and thei to be also betwen the Drumme and the Ansigne: this is thorder, with the whiche I would dispose a maine battaile, whiche should bee the disposyng of halfe the armie, and it should take in breadth three hundred fourscore and twoo yardes, and in length as moche as above is saied, not accomptyng the space, that thesame parte of the extraordinarie Pikes will take, whiche muste make a defence for the unarmed, whiche will bee aboute lxxv. yardes: the other maine battaile, I would dispose on the righte side, after the same maner juste, as I have disposed that on the lefte, leavyng betwene the one main battaile, and thother, a space of xxii. yardes: in the hedde of whiche space, I would set some little carriages of artillerie, behynde the whiche, should stande the generall capitaine of all the armie, and should have  about hym with the Trumpet, and with the Capitaine standerde, twoo hundred menne at least, chosen to be on foote the moste parte, emongest whiche there should be tenne or more, mete to execute all commaundementes, and should bee in soche wise a horsebacke, and armed, that thei mighte bee on horsebacke, and on foote, accordyng as neede should require. The artillerie of the armie, suffiseth ten Cannons, for the winning of Townes, whose shotte shoulde not passe fiftie pounde: the whiche in the fielde should serve mee more for defence of the campe, then for to fight the battaile: The other artillerie, should bee rather of ten, then of fifteene pounde the shotte: this I would place afore on the front of all the armie, if sometime the countrie should not stande in such wise, that I mighte place it by the flancke in a sure place, where it mighte not of the enemie be in daunger: this fashion of an armie thus ordered, may in fighting, use the order of the Falangi, and the order of the Romane Legions: for that in the fronte, bee Pikes, all the men bee set in the rankes, after such sorte, that incountering with the enemie, and withstanding him, maye after the use of the Falangi, restore the firste ranckes, with those behinde: on the other parte, if they be charged so sore, that they be constrayned to breake the orders, and to retire themselves, they maye enter into the voide places of the seconde battailes, which they have behinde them, and unite their selves with them, and making a new force, withstande the enemie, and overcome him: and when this sufficeth not, they may in the verie same maner, retire them selves the seconde time, and the third fight: so that in this order, concerning to fight, there is to renue them selves, both according to the Greeke maner, and according to the Romane: concerning the strength of the armie, there cannot be ordayned a more stronger: for as much, as the one and the other borne therof, is exceedingly well replenished, both with heades, and weapons, nor there remayneth weake, other then the part behinde of the unarmed, and the same also, hath the flanckes impaled with the extraordinarie Pikes: nor the enemie can not of anye parte  assaulte it, where he shall not finde it well appointed, and the hinder parte can not be assaulted: Because there can not bee an enemie, that hath so much puissaunce, whome equallye maye assault thee on everye side: for that hee having so great a power, thou oughtest not then to matche thy selfe in the fielde with him: but when he were three times more then thou, and as well appointed as thou, hee doth weaken him selfe in assaulting thee in divers places, one part that thou breakest, will cause all the reste go to naughte: concerning horses, although he chaunce to have more then thine, thou needest not feare: for that the orders of the Pikes, which impale thee, defende thee from all violence of them, although thy horses were repulced. The heades besides this, be disposed in such place, that they may easyly commaunde, and obeye: the spaces that bee between the one battaile, and the other, and betweene the one order, and the other, not onely serve to be able to receyve the one the other, but also to give place to the messengers, whiche should go and come by order of the Capitayne. And as I tolde you firste, howe the Romanes had for an armie, aboute foure and twentie thousande men, even so this oughte to bee: and as the other souldiours tooke ensample of the Legions, for the maner of fighting, and the fashion of the armie, so those souldiours, whiche you shoulde joyne to oure twoo mayne battailes, oughte to take the forme and order of them: whereof having put you an ensample, it is an easye matter to imitate it, for that increasing, either twoo other mayne battailes unto the armie, or as many other souldiours, as they bee, there is no other to bee done, then to double the orders, and where was put tenne battailes on the lefte parte, to put twentie, either ingrossing, or distending the orders, according as the place, or the enemie shoulde compell thee.

LUIGI. Surelye sir I imagine in suche wise of this armie, that mee thinkes I nowe see it, and I burne with a desire to see it incounter, and I woulde for nothing in the worlde, that you shoulde become Fabius Maximus intendyng to kepe the enemie at a baie, and to deferre the daie of battaile:  bicause I would saie worse of you, then the Romain people saied of hym.

The descripcion of a battaile that is a faightyng.

FABRICIO. Doubt not: Doe you not heare the artillerie? Ours have alredie shotte, but little hurte the enemie: and thextraordinarie Veliti, issuyng out of their places together with the light horsemen, moste speadely, and with moste merveilous furie, and greateste crie that maie be, thei assaulte the enemie: whose artillerie hath discharged ones, and hath passed over the heddes of our footemen, without doyng them any hurt, and bicause it cannot shoote the seconde tyme, the Veliti, and our horsemen, have nowe gotten it, and the enemies for to defende it, are come fore warde, so that neither our ordinaunce, nor thenemies, can any more doe their office. Se with how moche vertue, strengthe and agilitie our men faighteth, and with how moche knowledge through the exercise, whiche hath made them to abide, and by the confidence, that thei have in the armie, the whiche, see, how with the pace therof, and with the men of armes on the sides, it marcheth in good order, to give the charge on the adversarie: See our artillerie, whiche to give theim place, and to leave them the space free, is retired by thesame space, from whens the Veliti issued: See how the capitaine incourageth them, sheweth them the victorie certain: See how the Veliti and light horsemen bee inlarged, and retourned on the flanckes of tharmie, to seke and view, if thei maie by the flanck, doe any injurie to the adversaries: behold how the armies be affronted. Se with how moche valiauntnesse thei have withstode the violence of thenemies, and with how moche silence, and how the capitain commaundeth the menne of armes, that thei sustain, and not charge, and that thei breake not from the order of the footemen: see how our light horsemen be gone, to give the charge on a band of the enemies Harkebutters, whiche would have hurt our men by flancke, and how the enemies horse have succoured them, so that tourned betwene the one and the other horse, thei cannot shoote, but are faine to retire behinde their owne battaile: see with what furie our Pikes doe also affront, and  how the footemen be now so nere together the one to the other, that the Pikes can no more be occupied: so that according to the knowlege learned of us, our pikes do retire a little and a little betwen the targaettes. Se how in this while a great bande of men of armes of the enemies, have charged our men of armes on the lefte side, and how ours, accordyng to knowlege, bee retired under the extraordinarie Pikes, and with the help of those, giving again a freshe charge, have repulced the adversaries, and slain a good part of them: in so moche, that thordinarie pikes of the first battailes, be hidden betwene the raies of the Targaettes, thei havyng lefte the faight to the Targaet men: whom you maie see, with how moche vertue, securitie, and leasure, thei kill the enemie: see you not how moche by faightyng, the orders be thrust together? That thei can scarse welde their sweardes? Behold with how moche furie the enemies move: bicause beyng armed with the pike, and with the swerd unprofitable (the one for beyng to long, the other for findyng thenemie to well armed) in part thei fall hurt or dedde, in parte thei flie. See, thei flie on the righte corner, thei flie also on the lefte: behold, the victorie is ours. Have not we wonne a field moste happely? But with more happinesse it should bee wonne, if it were graunted me to put it in acte. And see, how there neded not the helpe of the seconde, nor of the third order, for our first fronte hath sufficed to overcome theim: in this part, I have no other to saie unto you, then to resolve if any doubt be growen you.

Questions concerning the shotyng of ordinaunce.

LUIGI. You have with so moche furie wonne this fielde that I so moche mervaile and am so astonied, that I beleve that I am not able to expresse, if any doubt remain in my mynde: yet trustyng in your prudence, I will be so bolde to tell thesame that I understande. Tell me firste, why made you not your ordinaunce to shoote more then ones? And why straighte waie you made them to retire into tharmie, nor after made no mension of them? Me thought also, that you leveled the artillerie of the enemie high, and appoincted it after your own devise: the whiche might very  well bee, yet when it should happen, as I beleve it chaunseth often, that thei strike the rankes, what reamedie have you? And seyng that I have begun of the artillerie, I will finishe all this question, to the intente I nede not to reason therof any more. I have heard many dispraise the armours, and the orders of the aunciente armies, arguyng, how now a daies, thei can doe little, but rather should bee altogether unprofitable, havyng respecte to the furie of the artillerie: bicause, this breaketh the orders, and passeth the armours in soche wise, that it semeth unto them a foolishenesse to make an order, whiche cannot bee kepte, and to take pain to beare a harneis, that cannot defende a man.

An aunswere to the questions that were demaunded, concernyng the shoting of ordinaunce; The best remedie to avoide the hurte that the enemie in the fielde maie doe with his ordinaunce; A policie against bowes and dartes; Nothyng causeth greater confusion in an armie, than to hinder mennes fightes; Nothing more blindeth the sight of men in an armie, then the smoke of ordinaunce; A policie to trouble the enemies sight; The shotte of greate ordinaunce in the fielde, is not moche to bee feared of fotemenne; Bicause menne of armes stand closer together then light horsmen, thei ought to remaine behinde the armie till the enemies ordinaunce have done shootyng; The artillerie is no let, why the auncient orders of warfar ought not to be used in these daies.

FABRICIO. This question of yours (bicause it hath many heddes) hath neede of a long aunswere. It is true, that I made not thartillery to shoote more than ones, and also of thesame ones, I stoode in doubte: the occasion was, for asmoche as it importeth more, for one to take hede not to be striken, then it importeth to strike the enemie. You have to understande, that to purpose that a pece of ordinaunce hurte you not, it is necessarie either to stande where it cannot reche you, or to get behinde a wall, or behinde a banke: other thing there is not that can witholde it: and it is nedefull also, that the one and the other be moste strong. Those capitaines whiche come to faight a field, cannot stand behind a wal, or behind bankes, nor where thei maie not be reached: therfore it is mete for them, seyng thei cannot finde a waie to defende them, to finde some mean, by the whiche thei maie be least hurte: nor thei cannot finde any other waie, then to prevente it quickly: the waie to prevent it, is to go to finde it out of hande, and hastely, not at leasure and in a heape: for that through spede, the blowe is not suffered to bee redoubled, and by the thinnesse, lesse nomber of menne maie be hurt. This, a bande of menne ordered, cannot dooe; bicause if thesame marche hastely, it goweth out of order: if it go scattered, the enemie shall have no paine to breake it, for that it breaketh by it self: and therfore, I ordered the armie after soche sorte, that it might dooe the one thyng  and the other: for as moche as havyng set in the corners thereof, a thousande Veliti, I appoincted that after that our ordinaunce had shotte, thei should issue out together with the light horsemen, to get the enemies artillerie: and therfore, I made not my ordinance to shoote again, to the intente, to give no tyme to the enemie to shoote: Bicause space could not be given to me, and taken from other men, and for thesame occasion, where I made my ordinaunce not to shoote the seconde tyme, was for that I would not have suffered the enemie to have shot at al, if I had could: seyng that to mynde that the enemies artillerie be unprofitable, there is no other remedie, but to assaulte it spedely: for as moche as if the enemies forsake it, thou takeste it, if thei will defende it, it is requisite that thei leave it behind, so that being possessed of enemies, and of frendes, it cannot shoote. I would beleve, that with out insamples these reasons should suffice you, yet beyng able to shewe olde ensamples, to prove my saiynges true, I will. Ventidio commyng to faight a field with the Parthians, whose strength for the moste part, consisted in bowes and arrowes, he suffered theim almoste to come harde to his campe, before he drewe out his armie, the whiche onely he did, to be able quickly to prevent them: and not to give them space to shoote. Cesar when he was in Fraunce, maketh mencion, that in faighting a battaile with the enemies, he was with so moche furie assaulted of them, that his menne had no time to whorle their Dartes, accordyng to the custome of the Romaines: wherfore it is seen, that to intende, that a thyng that shooteth farre of, beyng in the field, doe not hurte thee, there is no other remedy, then with as moche celeritie as maie bee, to prevente it. An other cause moved me to procede, without shotyng the ordinaunce, whereat peradventure you will laugh: yet I judge not that it is to be dispraised. Ther is nothyng that causeth greater confusion in an armie, then to hinder mennes fightes: whereby many moste puisaunte armies have been broken, by meanes their fighte hath been letted, either with duste, or with the Sunne: yet there is nothyng, that more letteth the sight  then the smoke that the artillerie maketh in shotyng: therfore, I would thinke that it wer more wisedome, to suffer the enemie to blinde hymself, then to purpose (thou being blind) to go to finde hym: for this cause, either I would not shote, or (for that this should not be proved, considering the reputacion that the artillerie hath) I would place it on the corners of the armie, so that shootyng, it should not with the smoke thereof, blinde the front of thesame, whiche is the importaunce of my men. And to prove that it is a profitable thyng, to let the sight of the enemie, there maie be brought for insample Epaminondas, whom to blind the enemies armie, whiche came to faight with hym, he caused his light horsemen, to run before the fronte of the enemies, to raise up the duste, and to lette their sight, whereby he gotte the victorie. And where it semeth unto you, that I have guided the shot of the artillerie, after my owne devise, making it to passe over the heddes of my men, I answer you, that most often tymes, and without comparison, the greate ordinaunce misse the footemen, moche soner than hitte theim: for that the footemen are so lowe, and those so difficult to shoote; that every little that thou raisest theim, thei passe over the heddes of men: and if thei be leveled never so little to lowe, thei strike in the yearth, and the blowe cometh not to theim: also the unevenesse of the grounde saveth them, for that every little hillocke, or high place that is, betwene the men and thordinance, letteth the shot therof. And concernyng horsmen, and in especially men of armes, bicause thei ought to stand more close together, then the light horsemen, and for that thei are moche higher, maie the better be stroken, thei maie, untill the artillerie have shotte, be kepte in the taile of the armie. True it is, that the Harkebutters doe moche more hurt, and the field peces, then the greate ordinance, for the whiche, the greatest remedy is, to come to hande strokes quickly: and if in the firste assaulte, there be slaine some, alwaies there shall bee slaine: but a good capitaine, and a good armie, ought not to make a coumpte of a hurte, that is particulare, but of a  generall, and to imitate the Suizzers, whom never eschue to faight, beyng made afraied of the artillerie: but rather punishe with death those, whiche for feare thereof, either should go out of the ranke, or should make with his body any signe of feare. I made them (so sone as thei had shotte) to bee retired into the armie, that thei might leave the waie free for the battaile: I made no more mencion of theim, as of a thyng unprofitable, the faight beyng begun. You have also saied, that consideryng the violence of this instrument, many judge the armours, and the auncient orders to be to no purpose, and it semeth by this your talke, that men now a daies, have founde orders and armours, whiche are able to defend them against the artillerie: if you knowe this, I would bee glad that you would teache it me: for that hetherto, I never sawe any, nor I beleve that there can any be founde: so that I would understande of soche men, for what cause the souldiours on foote in these daies, weare the breastplate, or the corselet of steele, and thei on horsebacke go all armed: bicause seyng that thei blame the aunciente armyng of men as unprofitable, considryng the artillery, thei ought to despise also this? I would understande moreover, for what occasion the Suizzers, like unto the auncient orders, make a battaile close together of sixe, or eight thousande menne, and for what occasion all other have imitated theim, this order bearyng the verie same perill, concernyng the artillerie, that those other should beare, whiche should imitate the antiquitie. I beleve thei should not knowe what to answere: but if you should aske soche Souldiours, as had some judgement, thei would aunswere first, that thei go armed, for that though thesame armoure defende theim not from the artillerie: it defendeth them from crossebowes, from Pikes, from sweardes, from stones, and from all other hurt, that commeth from the enemies, thei would answere also, that thei went close together, like the Suizzers, to be able more easely to overthrow the footemen, to be able to withstand better the horse and to give more difficultie to the enemie to breake them: so that it is seen, that the souldiours have to fear,  many other thynges besides the ordinance: from which thynges, with the armours, and with the orders, thei are defended: whereof foloweth, that the better that an armie is armed, and the closer that it hath the orders, and stronger, so moche the surer it is: so that he that is of thesame opinion, that you saie, it behoveth either that he bee of smalle wisedome, or that in this thyng, he hath studied verie little: for as moche as if we see, that so little a parte of the aunciente maner of armyng, whiche is used now a daies, that is the pike, and so little a parte of those orders, as are the maine battailes of the Suizzers, dooe us so moche good, and cause our armies to bee so strong, why ought not we to beleve, that the other armours, and thother orders whiche are lefte, be profitable? Seyng that if we have no regard to the artillerie, in puttyng our selves close together, as the Suizzers, what other orders maie make us more to feare thesame? For as moche as no order can cause us so moche to feare thesame, as those, whiche bryng men together. Besides this, if the artillerie of the enemies should not make me afraied, in besiegyng a Toune, where it hurteth me with more safegarde, beyng defended of a wall, I beyng not able to prevente it, but onely with tyme, with my artillerie to lette it, after soche sorte that it maie double the blowe as it liste, why should I feare thesame in the field, where I maie quickly prevent it? So that I conclude thus, that the artillerie, according to my opinion, doeth not let, that the aunciente maners cannot be used, and to shewe the auncient vertue: and if I had not talked alreadie with you of this instrument, I would of thesame, declare unto you more at length: but I will remit my self to that, whiche then I saied.

LUIGI. Wee maie now understande verie well, how moche you have aboute the artillerie discoursed: and in conclusion, my thinkes you have shewed, that the preventyng it quickly, is the greatest remedie, that maie be had for thesame, beyng in the fielde, and havyng an armie againste you. Upon the whiche there groweth in me a doubte: bicause me thinkes, that the enemie might place his  ordinaunce in soche wise, in his armie, that it should hurt you, and should be after soche sort garded of the footemen, that it could not be prevented. You have (if you remember your self well) in the orderyng of your armie to faight, made distaunces of three yardes, betwene the one battaile and the other, makyng those distaunces fiftene, whiche is from the battailes, to thextraordinarie pikes: if thenemie, shuld order his armie like unto yours, and should putte the artillerie a good waie within those spaces, I beleve that from thens, it should hurte you with their moste greate safegard: bicause menne can not enter into the force of their enemies to prevent it.

A generall rule againste soche thynges as cannot bee withstoode.

FABRICIO. You doubt moste prudently, and I will devise with my self, either to resolve you the doubte, or shewe you the remedie: I have tolde you, that continually these battailes, either through goyng, or thorowe faightyng, are movyng, and alwaies naturally, thei come to drawe harde together, so that if you make the distaunces of a small breadth, where you set the artillerie, in a little tyme thei be shootte up, after soche sort, that the artillerie cannot any more shoote: if you make theim large, to avoide this perill, you incurre into a greater, where you through those distances, not onely give commoditie to the enemie, to take from you the artillerie, but to breake you: but you have to understande, that it is impossible to keepe the artillerie betwene the bandes, and in especially those whiche go on carriages: For that the artillerie goeth one waie, and shooteth an other waie: So that havyng to go and to shoote, it is necessary, before thei shote, that thei tourne, and for to tourne theim, thei will have so moche space, that fiftie cartes of artillerie, would disorder any armie: therfore, it is mete to kepe them out of the bandes, where thei may be overcome in the maner, as a little afore we have shewed: but admit thei might be kept, and that there might be found a waie betwen bothe, and of soche condicion, that the presyng together of men should not hinder the artillerie, and were not so open that it should give waie to the enemie, I saie, that it is remedied moste easely, with makyng distances  in thy armie against it, whiche maie give free passage to the shot of those, and so the violence thereof shall come to be vain, the which maie be doen moste easely: for asmoche, as the enemie mindyng to have his artillerie stand safe, it behoveth that he put them behinde, in the furthest part of the distances, so that the shot of the same, he purposyng that thei hurt not his owne men, ought to passe by right line, and by that very same alwaies: and therefore with givyng theim place, easely thei maie bee avoided: for that this is a generall rule, that to those thynges, whiche cannot be withstoode, there must bee given waie, as the antiquitie made to the Eliphantes, and to the carres full of hookes. I beleve, ye, I am more then certaine, that it semeth unto you, that I have ordered and wonne a battaile after my own maner: notwithstanding, I answeer unto you this, when so moche as I have saied hetherto, should not suffice, that it should be impossible, that an armie thus ordered, and armed, should not overcome at the first incounter, any other armie that should bee ordained, as thei order the armies now adaies, whom most often tymes, make not but one front, havyng no targaettes, and are in soche wise unarmed, that thei cannot defende themselves from the enemie at hand, and thei order theim after soche sorte, that if thei set their battailes by flanck, the one to the other, thei make the armie thinne: if thei put the one behind the other, havyng no waie to receive the one the other, thei doe it confusedly, and apt to be easly troubled: and although thei give three names to their armies, and devide them into thre companies, vaward, battaile, and rereward, notwithstandyng it serveth to no other purpose, then to marche, and to distinguis the lodgynges: but in the daie of battaile, thei binde them all to the first brunte, and to the first fortune.

LUIGI. I have noted also in the faightyng of your fielde, how your horsemen were repulced of the enemies horsemen: for whiche cause thei retired to the extraordinaire Pikes: whereby grewe, that with the aide of theim, thei withstode, and drave the enemies backe? I beleve that the Pikes maie  withstande the horses, as you saie, but in a grosse and thicke maine battaile, as the Suizzers make: but you in your army, have for the hedde five rankes of Pikes, and for the flancke seven, so that I cannot tell how thei maie bee able to withstande them.

A Battaile how greate so ever it bee, cannot atones occupy above v. rankes of Pikes.

FABRICIO. Yet I have told you, how sixe rankes of pikes wer occupied at ones, in the Macedonicall Falangi, albeit you ought to understande, that a maine battaile of Suizzers, if it were made of a thousande rankes, it cannot occupie more then fower, or at the most five: bicause the Pikes be sixe yardes and three quarters longe, one yarde and halfe a quarter, is occupied of the handes, wherefore to the firste ranke, there remaineth free five yardes and a half, and a halfe quarter of Pike: the seconde ranke besides that whiche is occupied with the hande, consumeth a yarde and half a quarter in the space, whiche remaineth betwene the one ranke and thother: so that there is not left of pike profitable, more then fower yardes and a halfe: to the thirde ranke, by this verie same reason, there remaineth three yardes and a quarter and a halfe: to the fowerth, twoo yardes and a quarter: to the fift one yard and halfe a quarter: the other rankes, for to hurte, be unprofitable, but thei serve to restore these firste rankes, as we have declared, and to bee a fortificacion to those v. Then if five of their rankes can withstande the horse, why cannot five of ours withstande theim? to the whiche also there lacketh not rankes behinde, that doeth sustain and make them the very same staie, although thei have no pikes as the other. And when the rankes of thextraordinarie pikes, which are placed on the flanckes, should seme unto you thinne, thei maie bee brought into a quadrante, and put on the flancke nere the twoo battailes, whiche I set in the laste companie of the armie: From the whiche place, thei maie easely altogether succour the fronte, and the backe of the armie, and minister helpe to the horses, accordyng as nede shall require.

LUIGI. Would you alwaies use this forme of order, when you would pitche a fielde.

An advertiement concernyng the pitchying of a field.

FABRICIO. No in no wise: for that you ought to varie the facion of the armie, according to the qualitie of the situacion, and the condicion and quantitie of the enemie, as before this reasonyng dooe ende, shall bee shewed certaine insamples: but this forme is given unto you, not so moche as moste strongeste of all, where in deede it is verie strong, as to the intente that thereby you maie take a rule, and an order to learne to knowe the waies to ordeine the other: for as moche, as every science hath his generalitie, upon the whiche a good part of it is grounded. One thing onely I advise you, that you never order an armie, after soche sorte, that those that faight afore, cannot bee sucoured of theim, whiche be set behind: bicause he that committeth this errour, maketh the greateste parte of his armie to bee unprofitable, and if it incounter any strength, it cannot overcome.

LUIGI. There is growen in me, upon this parte a doubte. I have seen that in the placyng of the battailes, you make the fronte of five on a side, the middeste of three, and the last partes of twoo, and I beleve, that it were better to ordain them contrariwise: for that I thinke, that an armie should with more difficultie bee broken, when he that should charge upon it, the more that he should entre into the-same, so moche the stronger he should finde it: and the order devised of you, me thinkes maketh, that the more it is entered into, so moche the weaker it is founde.

How the front of the armie ought to bee made; How the middell part of the armie ought to be ordered.

FABRICIO. If you should remember how to the Triarii, whom were the thirde order of the Romain Legions, there were not assigned more then sixe hundred men, you would doubt lesse, havyng understode how thei were placed in the laste companie: For that you should see, how I moved of this insample, have placed in the last companie twoo battailes, whiche are nine hundred men, so that I come rather (folowyng the insample of the Romaine people) to erre, for havyng taken to many, then to fewe: and although this insample should suffice, I will tell you the reason, the which is this. The first fronte of the armie, is made perfectly whole and thicke, bicause it must withstande the brunt of  the enemies, and it hath not to receive in it any of their felowes: and for this, it is fitte that it bee full of menne: bicause a fewe menne, should make it weake, either thinnesse, or for lacke of sufficiente nomber: but the seconde companie, for as moche as it must first receive their frendes, to sustain the enemie, it is mete that it have greate spaces, and for this it behoveth, that it be of lesse nomber then the first: for that if it wer of greater nomber, or equall, it should bee conveniente, either not to leave the distaunces, the whiche should be disorder, or leavyng theim, to passe the boundes of thoseafore, the whiche should make the facion of the armie unperfecte: and it is not true that you saie, that the enemie, the more that he entereth into the maine battaile, so moche the weaker he findeth it: for that the enemie, can never faight with the seconde order, except the first be joined with thesame: so that he cometh to finde the middest of the maine battaile more stronger, and not more weaker, havyng to faight with the first, and with the seconde order altogether: the verie same happeneth, when the enemie should come to the thirde companie: for that there, not with twoo battailes, whiche is founde freshe, but with all the maine battaile he must faight: and for that this last part hath to receive moste men, the spaces therof is requisite to be greatest, and that whiche receiveth them, to be the leste nomber.

The orderyng of the hinder part of tharmy.

LUIGI. It pleaseth me thesame that you have told: but answere me also this: if the five first battailes doe retire betwene the three seconde battailes, and after the eight betwene the twoo thirde, it semeth not possible, that the eight beyng brought together, and then the tenne together, maie bee received when thei bee eight, or when thei be tenne in the verie same space, whiche received the five.

The retire of the Pikes, to place the Targaet men.

FABRICIO. The first thyng that I aunswere is, that it is not the verie same space: For that the five have fower spaces in the middeste, whiche retiryng betwene the thre, or betwene the twoo, thei occupie: then there remaineth thesame space, that is betwene the one maine battaile and  other and thesame that is, betwene the battailes, and the extraordinarie Pikes, al the whiche spaces makes largenesse: besides this, it is to bee considered, that the battailes kepe other maner of spaces, when thei bee in the orders without beyng altered, then when thei be altered: for that in the alteracion: either thei throng together, or thei inlarge the orders: thei inlarge theim, when thei feare so moche, that thei fall to fliyng, thei thrust them together, when thei feare in soche wise, that thei seke to save them selves, not with runnyng a waie, but with defence: So that in this case, thei should come to be destingueshed, and not to be inlarged. Moreover, the five rankes of the Pikes, that are before, so sone as thei have begun the faighte, thei ought betwene their battailes to retire, into the taile of the armie, for to give place to the Targaet men, that thei maie faighte: and thei goyng into the taile of the armie, maie dooe soche service as the capitain should judge, were good to occupie theim aboute, where in the forward, the faight beyng mingled, thei should otherwise bee altogether unprofitable. And for this the spaces ordained, come to bee for the remnaunte of the menne, wide inough to receive them: yet when these spaces should not suffice, the flankes on the sides be men, and not walles, whom givyng place, and inlargyng them selves, maie make the space to containe so moche, that it maie bee sufficient to receive theim.

How the pikes that are placed on the flankes of the armie ought to governe them selves when the rest of the armie is driven to retire.

LUIGI. The rankes of the extraordinarie Pikes, whiche you place on the flanckes of the armie, when the first battailes retire into the second, will you have them to stande still, and remain with twoo homes to the armie? Or will you that thei also retire together, with the battailes? The whiche when thei should do, I see not how thei can, havyng no battailes behinde with distaunces that maie receive them.

Thexercise of the army in generall; The nomber that is mete to be written in the Ansigne of every band of men; The degrees of honours in an armie, whiche soche a man ought to rise by, as should bee made a generall capitain.

FABRICIO. If the enemie overcome theim not, when he inforceth the battailes to retire, thei maie stande still in their order, and hurte the enemie on the flanck, after that the firste battailes retired: but if he should also overcome  theim, as semeth reason, beyng so puisaunte, that he is able to repulce the other, thei also ought to retire: whiche thei maie dooe excellently well, although thei have not behinde, any to receive them: bicause from the middest thei maie redouble by right line, entring the one ranke into the other, in the maner whereof wee reasoned, when it was spoken of the order of redoublyng: True it is, that to mynde redoublyng to retire backe, it behoveth to take an other waie, then thesame that I shewed you: for that I told you, that the second ranke, ought to enter into the first, the fowerth into the thirde, and so foorth: in this case, thei ought not to begin before, but behinde, so that redoublyng the rankes, thei maie come to retire backewarde not to tourne forward: but to aunswere to all thesame, that upon this foughten field by me shewed, might of you bee replied. I saie unto you again, that I have ordained you this armie, and shewed this foughten field for two causes, thone, for to declare unto you how it is ordered, the other to shewe you how it is exercised: thorder, I beleve you understande moste well: and concernyng the exersice, I saie unto you, that thei ought to be put together in this forme, as often times as maie be: for as moche as the heddes learne therby, to kepe their battailes in these orders: for that to particulare souldiours, it appertaineth to keepe well the orders of every battaile, to the heddes of the battailes, it appertaineth to keepe theim well in every order of the armie, and that thei knowe how to obeie, at the commaundement of the generall capitain: therefore, it is conveniente that thei knowe, how to joyne the one battaile with thother, that thei maie knowe how to take their place atones: and for this cause it is mete that thansigne of every battaile, have written in some evident part, the nomber therof: as well for to be able to commaunde them, as also for that the capitain, and the souldiours by thesame nomber, maie more easely knowe theim againe: also the maine battailes, ought to be nombred, and to have the nomber in their principal Ansigne: Therefore it is requisite, to knowe of what nomber the maine battaile shall be, that is placed on the left, or on  the right horne of what nombers the battailes bee, that are set in the fronte, and in the middeste, and so foorthe of the other. The antiquitie would also, that these nombers should bee steppes to degrees, of honors of the armies: as for insample, the first degree, is the Peticapitain, the seconde, the hedde of fiftie ordinarie Veliti, the thirde, the Centurion, the fowerth, the hedde of the first battaile, the fifte, of the second, the sixt, of the thirde, and so forthe, even to the tenth battaile, the whiche must be honoured in the seconde place, nexte the generall capitaine of a maine battaile: nor any ought to come to thesame hedde, if first, he have not risen up by all these degrees. And bicause besides these heddes, there be the three Conestables of the extraordinarie Pikes, and twoo of the extraordinarie Veliti, I would that thei should be in the same degree of the Conestable of the first battaile: nor I would not care, that there were sixe men of like degree, to thintent, that every one of them might strive, who should doe beste, for to be promised to be hedde of the seconde battaile. Then every one of these heddes, knowyng in what place his battaile ought to be sette in, of necessitie it must folowe, that at a sounde of the Trompette, so sone as the hedde standarde shall bee erected, all the armie shall be in their places: and this is the first exercise, whereunto an armie ought to bee accustomed, that is to set theim quickly together: and to doe this, it is requisite every daie, and divers times in one daie, to set them in order, and to disorder them.

LUIGI. What armes would you that thansignes of all the armie, shoul’d have beside the nomber?

The armes that oughte to bee in the standarde, and in the ansignes of an armie; The second and thirde exercise of an armie; The fowerth exercise of an armie; The soundes of the instrumentes of musicke, that the antiquitie used in their armies; What is signified by the sounde of the Trompet.

FABRICIO. The standarde of the generall Capitaine oughte to have the armes of the Prince of the armie, all the other, maie have the verie same armes, and to varie with the fieldes, or to varie with the armes, as should seme beste to the Lorde of the armie: Bicause this importeth little, so that the effect growe, that thei be knowen the one from the other. But let us passe to the other exercise: the which is to make them to move, and with a convenient pace to  marche, and to se, that marehyng thei kepe the orders. The third exercise is, that thei learne to handle themselves in thesame maner, whiche thei ought after to handle theimselves in the daie of battaile, to cause the artillerie to shoote, and to bee drawen out of the waie, to make the extraordinarie Veliti to issue out, after a likenes of an assault, to retire theim: To make that the firste battailes, as though thei wer sore charged, retire into the spaces of the second: and after, all into the thirde, and from thens every one to retourne to his place: and in soche wise to use theim in this exercise, that to every manne, all thyng maie be knowen, and familiar: the which with practise, and with familiaritie, is brought to passe moste quickly. The fowerth exercise is, that thei learne to knowe by meane of the sounde, and of the Ansigne, the commaundemente of their capitaine: for as moche as that, whiche shall be to them pronounced by voice, thei without other commaundemente, maie understande: and bicause the importaunce of this commaundement, ought to growe of the sounde, I shall tell you what soundes the antiquitie used. Of the Lacedemonians, accordyng as Tucidido affirmeth, in their armies were used Flutes: for that thei judged, that this armonie, was moste mete to make their armie to procede with gravetie, and with furie: the Carthaginens beyng moved by this verie same reason, in the first assaulte, used the violone. Aliatte kyng of the Lidians, used in the warre the violone, and the Flutes: but Alexander Magnus, and the Romaines, used hornes, and Trumpettes, as thei, that thought by vertue of soche instrumentes, to bee able to incourage more the myndes of Souldiours, and make theim to faight the more lustely: but as we have in armyng the armie, taken of the Greke maner, and of the Romaine, so in distrihutyng the soundes, we will keepe the customes of the one, and of the other nacion: therefore, nere the generall capitain, I would make the Trompettes to stand, as a sounde not onely apt to inflame the armie, but apte to bee heard in all the whole tumoult more, then any other sounde: all the other soundes, whiche should bee aboute the Conestables, and  the heddes of maine battailes I would, that thei should bee smalle Drummes, and Flutes, sounded not as thei sounde theim now but as thei use to sounde theim at feastes. The capitaine then with the Trompet, should shewe when thei must stande still, and go forward, or tourne backward, when the artillerie must shoote, when the extraordinarie Veliti must move, and with the varietie or distinccion of soche soundes, to shewe unto the armie all those mocions, whiche generally maie bee shewed, the whiche Trompettes, should bee after followed of the Drummes, and in this exercise, bicause it importeth moche, it behoveth moche to exercise the armie. Concernyng the horsemen, there would be used likewise Trompettes, but of a lesse sounde, and of a divers voice from those of the Capitaine. This is as moche as is come into my remembraunce, aboute the order of the armie, and of the exercise of thesame.

LUIGI. I praie you let it not be grevous unto you to declare unto me an other thyng, that is, for what cause you made the light horsmen, and the extraordinarie Veliti, to goe with cries, rumours, and furie, when thei gave the charge? And after in the incountering of the rest of tharmie, you shewed, that the thing folowed with a moste greate scilence? And for that I understande not the occasion of this varietie, I would desire that you would declare it unto me.

The cries, and rumours, wher with the firste charge is given unto the enemies, and the silence that ought to bee used after, when the faight is ones begunne.

FABRICIO. The opinion of auncient capitaines, hath been divers about the commyng to handes, whether thei ought with rumour to go a pace, or with scilence to go faire and softely: this laste waie, serveth to kepe the order more sure, and to understande better the commaundementes of the Capitaine: the firste, serveth to incourage more the mindes of men: and for that I beleve, that respecte ought to bee had to the one, and to the other of these twoo thynges, I made the one goe with rumour, and thother with scilence: nor me thinkes not in any wise, that the continuall rumours bee to purpose: bicause thei lette the commaundementes, the whiche is a thyng moste pernicious: nor it standeth not with reason, that the Romaines used, except at the firste assaulte  to make rumour: for that in their histories, is seen many tymes to have happened, that through the wordes, and comfortinges of the capitain the souldiours that ranne awaie, were made to stande to it, and in sundrie wise by his commaundemente, to have varied the orders, the whiche should not have followed, if the rumoures had been louder then his voyce.

THE FOWERTH BOOKE

LUIGI. Seng that under my governement, a field hath been wonne so honourably, I suppose that it is good, that I tempt not fortune any more, knowyng how variable, and unstable she is: and therefore, I desire to give up my governement, and that Zanobi do execute now this office of demaundyng, mindyng to followe the order, whiche concerneth the youngeste: and I knowe he will not refuse this honoure, or as we would saie, this labour, as well for to doe me pleasure, as also for beyng naturally of more stomach than I: nor it shall not make hym afraied, to have to enter into these travailes, where he maie bee as well overcome, as able to conquere.

ZANOBI. I am readie to do what soever shall please you to appoinete me, although that I desire more willingly to heare: for as moche as hetherto, your questions have satisfied me more, then those should have pleased me, whiche in harkenyng to your reasonyng, hath chaunced to come into my remembraunce. But sir, I beleve that it is good, that you lese no tyme, and that you have pacience, if with these our Ceremonies we trouble you.

FABRICIO. You doe me rather pleasure, for that this variacion of demaunders, maketh me to knowe the sundrie wittes and sunderie appetites of yours: But remaineth there any thyng, whiche seemeth unto you good, to bee joyned to the matter, that alreadie hath been reasoned of?

ZANOBI. Twoo thinges I desire, before you passe to an other parte: the one is, to have you to shewe, if in orderyng armies, there needeth to bee used any other facion: the other, what respectes a capitaine ought to have, before he conducte his men to the faight, and in thesame an accidente risyng or growyng, what reamedie maie be had.

To deffende moche the fronte of an armie, is most perillous; What is beste for a capitaine to dooe, where his power is, moche lesse then thenemies power; A general rule; The higher grounde ought to be chosen; An advertisement not to place an armie wher the enemie maie se what the same doeth; Respectes for the Sonne and Winde; The variyng of order and place maie cause the conquered to become victorius; A policie in the ordering of men and pitchyng of a fielde; How to compasse about the enemies power; How a capitaine maie faight and bee as it were sure, not to be overcome; How to trouble the orders of the enemie; What a capitaine oughte to dooe when he hath not so many horsmen as the enemie; A greate aide for horsemen; The policies used betwene Aniball and Scipio.

FABRICIO. I will inforce my self to satisfie you, I will not answere now distinctly to your questions: for that whileste I shall aunswere to one, many tymes it will come to passe, that I muste aunswere to an other. I have tolde you, how I have shewed you a facion of an armie, to the intent, that accordyng to thesame, there maie bee given all those facions, that the enemie, and the situacion requireth: For as moche as in this case, bothe accordyng to the power thereof, and accordyng to the enemie, it proceadeth: but note this, that there is not a more perillous facion, then to deffende moche the front of tharmie, if then thou have not a most puisant, and moste great hoste: otherwise, thou oughtest to make it rather grosse, and of small largenesse, then of moche largenes and thin: for when thou hast fewe men in comparison to thenemie, thou oughtest to seke other remedies, as is to ordain thine army in soche a place, wher thou maiest be fortefied, either through rivers, or by meanes of fennes, after soch sort, that thou canst not bee compassed aboute, or to inclose thy self on the flanckes with diches, as Cesar did in Fraunce. You have to take in this cace, this generall rule, to inlarge your self, or to draw in your self with the front, according to your nomber, and thesame of the enemie. For thenemies being of lesse nomber, thou oughtest to seke large places, havyng in especially thy men well instructed: to the intent thou maiest, not onely compasse aboute the enemie, but to deffende thy orders: for that in places rough and difficulte, beyng not able to prevaile of thy orders, thou commeste not to have any advauntage, hereby grewe, that the Romaines almoste alwaies, sought the open fieldes, and advoided the straightes. To the contrarie, as I have said, thou oughtest to doe, if thou hast fewe menne, or ill instructed: for that then thou  oughteste to seeke places, either where the little nomber maye be saved, and where the small experience dooe not hurte thee: Thou oughtest also to chuse the higher grounde, to be able more easily to infest them: notwithstandyng, this advertisment ought to be had, not to ordaine thy armie, where the enemie maie spie what thou doest and in place nere to the rootes of the same, where the enemies armie maie come: For that in this case, havyng respecte unto the artillerie, the higher place shall gette thee disadvauntage: Bicause that alwaies and commodiously, thou mightest of the enemies artillerie bee hurte, without beyng able to make any remedy, and thou couldest not commodiously hurte thesame, beyng hindered by thine owne men. Also, he that prepareth an armie to faight a battaile, ought to have respecte, bothe to the Sunne, and to the Winde, that the one and the other, doe not hurte the fronte, for that the one and the other, will let thee the sight, the one with the beames, and the other with the duste: and moreover, the Winde hindereth the weapons, whiche are stroken at the enemie, and maketh their blowes more feable: and concerning the Sunne, it sufficeth not to have care, that at the firste it shine not in the face, but it is requisite to consider, that increasyng the daie, it hurte thee not: and for this, it should bee requsite in orderyng the men, to have it all on the backe, to the entente it should have to passe moche tyme, to come to lye on the fronte. This waie was observed of Aniball at Canne, and of Mario against the Cimbrians. If thou happen to be moche inferiour of horses, ordaine thine armie emongeste Vines, and trees, and like impedimentes, as in our time the Spaniardes did, when thei overthrewe the Frenchmenne at Cirignuola. And it hath been seen many times, with all one Souldiours, variyng onely the order, and the place, that thei have become of losers victorers: as it happened to the Carthageners, whom havyng been overcome of Marcus Regolus divers tymes, were after by the counsaill of Santippo a Lacedemonian, victorious: whom made them to go doune into the plaine, where by vertue of the horses, and of  Eliphantes, thei were able to overcome the Romaines. It semes unto me, accordyng to the auncient insamples that almoste all the excellente Capitaines, when thei have knowen, that the enemie hath made strong one side of his battaile, thei have not set against it, the moste strongest parte, but the moste weakest, and thother moste strongest thei have set against the most weakest: after in the beginning the faighte, thei have commaunded to their strongest parte, that onely thei sustaine the enemie, and not to preace upon hym, and to the weaker, that thei suffer them selves to be overcome, and to retire into the hindermoste bandes of the armie. This breadeth twoo greate disorders to the enemie: the firste, that he findeth his strongest parte compassed about, the second is, that semyng unto him to have the victorie, seldome tymes it happeneth, that thei disorder not theim selves, whereof groweth his sodain losse. Cornelius Scipio beyng in Spain, againste Asdruball of Carthage, and understanding how to Asdruball it was knowen, that he in the orderyng the armie, placed his Legions in the middest, the whiche was the strongest parte of his armie, and for this how Asdruball with like order ought to procede: after when he came to faighte the battaile, he chaunged order, and put his Legions on the hornes of the armie, and in the middest, placed all his weakeste men: then commyng to the handes, in a sodain those men placed in the middeste, he made to marche softly, and the hornes of the armie, with celeritie to make forwarde, so that onely the hornes of bothe the armies fought, and the bandes in the middest, through beyng distaunt the one from the other, joyned not together, and thus the strongest parte of Scipio, came to faight with the weakest of Asdruball, and overcame hym. The whiche waie was then profitable, but now havyng respect to the artillerie, it cannot be used: bicause the same space, whiche should remain in the middest, betwene the one armie and the other, should give tyme to thesame to shoote: The whiche is moste pernicious, as above is saied: Therefore it is requisite to laie this waie aside, and to use, as a little afore we saied, makyng all the  armie to incounter, and the weakest parte to give place. When a capitaine perceiveth, that he hath a greater armie then his enemie, mindyng to compasse hym aboute, before he be aware let hym ordaine his fronte equall, to thesame of his adversaries, after, so sone as the faight is begun, let hym make the fronte by a little and little to retire, and the flanckes to deffende, and alwaies it shall happen, that the enemie shal find hymself, before he be aware compassed about. When a capitain will faight, as it wer sure not to be broken, let hym ordaine his armie in place, where he hath refuge nere, and safe, either betwene Fennes, or betwene hilles, or by some strong citee: for that in this case, he cannot bee followed of the enemie, where the enemie maie be pursued of him: this poincte was used of Aniball, when fortune began to become his adversarie, and that he doubted of the valiauntnesse of Marcus Marcello. Some to trouble the orders of the enemie, have commaunded those that were light armed, to begin the faight, and that beyng begunne, to retire betwene the orders: and when the armies were after buckled together, and that the fronte of either of them were occupied in faightyng, thei have made theim to issue out by the flanckes of the battaile, and thesame have troubled and broken. If any perceive hymself to bee inferiour of horse, he maie besides the waies that are alredie shewed, place behinde his horsemen a battaile of Pikes, and in faightyng take order, that thei give waie to the Pikes, and he shall remain alwaies superiour. Many have accustomed to use certain fotemenne lighte armed, to faighte emong horsemen, the whiche hath been to the chivalrie moste greate helpe. Of all those, which have prepared armies to the field, be moste praised Aniball and Scipio, when thei fought in Africk: and for that Aniball had his armie made of Carthaginers, and of straungers of divers nacions, he placed in the first fronte thereof lxxx. Elephantes, after he placed the straungers, behinde whom he sette his Carthaginers, in the hindermoste place, he putte the Italians, in whom he trusted little: the whiche thing he ordained so, for that the straungers havyng before  theim the enemie, and behinde beyng inclosed of his men, could not flie: so that being constrained to faight thei should overcome, or wearie the Romaines, supposyng after with his freshe and valiaunte men, to be then able easely to overcome the Romaines, beeyng wearied. Against this order, Scipio set the Astati, the Prencipi, and the Triarii, in the accustomed maner, to bee able to receive the one the other, and to rescue the one the other: he made the fronte of the armie, full of voide spaces, and bicause it should not be perceived but rather should seme united, he filled them ful of veliti, to whom he commaunded, that so sone as the Eliphantes came, thei should avoide, and by the ordinarie spaces, should enter betwene the Legins, and leave open the waie to the Eliphauntes, and so it came to passe, that it made vaine the violence of theim, so that commyng to handes, he was superiour.

ZANOBI. You have made me to remember, in alledging me this battaile, how Scipio in faighting, made not the Astati to retire into thorders of the Prencipi, but he devided theim, and made theim to retire in the hornes of the armie, to thintent thei might give place to the Prencipi, when he would force forwarde: therfore I would you should tell me, what occasion moved hym, not to observe the accustomed order.

Cartes full of hookes made to destroie the enemies; The remedy that was used against Cartes full of hookes; The straunge maner that Silla used in orderyng his army against Archelaus; How to trouble in the faighte the armie of the enemies; A policie of Caius Sulpitius, to make his enemies afraied; A policie of Marius againste the Duchmenne; A policie of greate importaunce, while a battaile is a faightyng; How horsemen maie bee disordered; How the turke gave the Sophie an overthrowe; How the Spaniardes overcame the armie of Amilcare; How to traine the enemie, to his destruccion; A policie of Tullo Hostilio and Lucius Silla in dessemlyng of a mischaunce; Sertorius slue a man for telling him of the death of one of his capitaines; Howe certaine captaines have staied their men that hath been running awaie; Attillius constrained his men that ran awaie to tourne again and to faight; How Philip king of Macedonia made his men afraied to run awaie; Victorie ought with all celeritie to bee folowed; What a capitaine ought to dooe, when he should chaunce to receive an overthrowe; How Martius overcame the armie of the Carthaginers; A policie of Titus Dimius to hide a losse, whiche he had received in a faight; A general rule; Aniball; Scipio; Asdruball; A Capitaine ought not to faight without advantage, excepte he be constrained; How advauntage maie bee taken of the enemies; Furie withstode, converteth into vilenesse; What maner of men a capitaine ought to have about him continually, to consult withall; The condicions of the capitain of the enemies, and of those that are about hym is moste requisite to bee knowen; A timerous army is not to be conducted to faight; How to avoide the faightyng of a fielde.

FABRICIO. I will tell you. Aniball had putte all the strengthe of his armie, in the seconde bande: wherefore Scipio for to set againste thesame like strengthe, gathered the Prencipi and the Triarii together: So that the distaunces of the Prencipi, beyng occupied of the Triarii, there was no place to bee able to receive the Astati: and therefore he made the Astati to devide, and to go in the hornes of the armie, and he drewe them not betwene the Prencipi. But note, that this waie of openyng the first bande, for to give place to the seconde, cannot bee used, but when a man is superiour to his enemie: for that then there is commoditie to bee able to dooe it, as Scipio was able: but beyng under, and repulced, it cannot be doen, but with thy manifest ruine: and therefore it is convenient  to have behinde, orders that maie receive thee, but let us tourne to our reasonyng. The auncient Asiaticans, emongest other thynges devised of them to hurt the enemies, used carres. The whiche had on the sides certaine hookes, so that not onely thei served to open with their violence the bandes, but also to kill with the hookes the adversaries: against the violence of those, in thre maners thei provided, either thei sustained theim with the thickenesse of the raies, or thei received theim betwene the bandes, as the Eliphantes were received, or els thei made with arte some strong resistence: As Silla a Romaine made againste Archelaus, whom had many of these cartes, whiche thei called hooked, who for to sustaine theim, drave many stakes into the grounde, behinde his first bandes of men, whereby the cartes beyng stopped, lost their violence. And the newe maner that Silla used against hym in orderyng the armie, is to bee noted: for that he put the Veliti, and the horse, behinde, and all the heavie armed afore, leavyng many distaunces to be able to sende before those behinde, when necessite required: whereby the fight beyng begun, with the helpe of the horsemen, to the whiche he gave the waie, he got the victorie. To intende to trouble in the faight the enemies armie, it is conveniente to make some thyng to growe, that maie make theim afraied, either with showyng of newe helpe that commeth, or with showyng thynges, whiche maie represente a terrour unto theim: after soche sorte, that the enemies begiled of that sight, maie be afraied, and being made afraied, thei maie easely bee overcome: the whiche waies Minutio Rufo used, and Accilio Glabrione Consulls of Rome. Caius Sulpitius also set a greate many of sackes upon Mules, and other beastes unprofitable for the warre, but in soche wise ordained, that thei semed men of armes, and he commaunded, that thei should appere upon a hill, while he were a faightyng with the Frenchemen, whereby grewe his victorie. The verie same did Marius, when he foughte against the Duchemen. Then the fained assaultes availyng moche, whilest the faight continueth, it is conveniente, that the very assaultes in deede, dooe helpe  moche: inespecially if at unwares in the middest of the faight, the enemie might bee assaulted behinde, or on the side: the whiche hardely maie be doen, if the countrie helpe thee not: for that when it is open, parte of thy men cannot bee hid, as is mete to bee doen in like enterprises: but in woddie or hille places, and for this apt for ambusshes parte of thy men maie be well hidden, to be able in a sodain, and contrary to thenemies opinion to assaut him, whiche thyng alwaies shall be occasion to give thee the victorie. It hath been sometyme of greate importaunce, whilest the faighte continueth, to sowe voices, whiche doe pronounce the capitaine of thenemies to be dedde, or to have overcome on the other side of the armie: the whiche many times to them that have used it, hath given the victorie. The chivalrie of the enemies maie bee easely troubled, either with sightes, or with rumours, not used: as Creso did, whom put Camelles againste the horses of the adversaries, and Pirrus sette againste the Romaine horsemen Eliphantes, the sighte of whiche troubled and disordered them. In our time, the Turke discomfited the Sophi in Persia, and the Soldane in Surria with no other, then with the noise of Harkabuses, the whiche in soche wise, with their straunge rumours, disturbed the horses of those, that the Turke mighte easely overcome them: The Spaniardes to overcome the armie of Amilcare, put in the firste fronte Cartes full of towe drawen of oxen, and comming to handes, thei kindeled fire to thesame, wherfore the oxen to flie from the fire, thrust into the armie of Amilcar, and opened it. Thei are wonte (as we have saied) to begile the enemie in the faight, drawyng him into their ambusshes, where the Countrie is commodious for the same purpose, but where it were open and large, many have used to make diches, and after have covered them lightly with bowes and yearth, and lefte certain spaces whole, to be able betnene those to retire: after, so sone as the faight hath been begunne, retiryng by those, and the enemie folowing them, hath fallen in the pittes. If in the faight there happen thee, any accident that maie feare thy souldiours, it is a moste  prudente thyng, to knowe how to desemble it, and to pervert it to good, as Tullo Hostilio did, and Lucius Silla: whom seyng while thei fought, how a parte of his men wer gone to the enemies side, and how thesame thing had verie moche made afraied his men, he made straighte waie throughout all the armie to be understoode, how all thing proceded, accordyng to his order: the whiche not onely did not trouble the armie, but it increased in them so moche stomack, that he remained victorious. It happened also to Silla, that havyng sente certaine souldiours to doe some businesse, and thei beyng slain he saied, to the intent his armie should not be made afraied thereby, that he had with crafte sent theim into the handes of the enemies, for that he had found them nothyng faithfull. Sertorius faightyng a battaile in Spaine, slue one, whom signified unto hym the death of one of his capitaines, for feare that tellyng the very same to other, he should make theim afraied. It is a moste difficult thyng, an armie beyng now moved to flie, to staie it, and make it to faight. And you have to make this distinccion: either that it is all moved, and then to be impossible to tourne it, or there is moved a parte thereof, and then there is some remedie. Many Romain capitaines, with making afore those whiche fled, have caused them to staie, making them ashamed of running awaie, as Lucius Silla did, where alredy parte of his Legions beyng tourned to flight, driven awaie by the men of Mithridates, he made afore them with a swearde in his hande criyng: if any aske you, where you left your capitaine, saie, we have left hym in Boecia, where he faighteth. Attillius a consull set againste that ran awaie, them that ranne not awaie, and made them to understande, that if thei would not tourne, thei should be slaine of their frendes, and of their enemies. Philip of Macedonia understanding how his men feared the Scithian Souldiours, placed behinde his armie, certaine of his moste trustie horsemen, and gave commission to theim, that thei should kill whom so ever fledde: wherfore, his men mindyng rather to die faightyng, then fliyng, overcame. Many Romaines, not so moche to staie a flight, as for to  give occasion to their men, to make greater force, have whileste thei have foughte, taken an Ansigne out of their owne mennes handes, and throwen it emongeste the enemies, and appoincted rewardes to hym that could get it again. I doe not beleve that it is out of purpose, to joyne to this reasonyng those thynges, whiche chaunce after the faight, in especially beyng brief thinges, and not to be left behinde, and to this reasonyng conformable inough. Therefore I saie, how the fielde is loste, or els wonne: when it is wonne, the victorie ought with all celeritie to be folowed, and in this case to imitate Cesar, and not Aniball, whom staiyng after that he had discomfited the Romaines at Canne, loste the Empire of Rome: The other never rested after the victorie, but folowed the enemie beyng broken, with greater violence and furie, then when he assalted hym whole: but when a capitaine dooeth loese, he ought to see, if of the losse there maie growe any utilite unto hym, inespecially if there remain any residue of tharmie. The commoditie maie growe of the small advertisment of the enemie, whom moste often times after the victorie, becometh negligent, and giveth thee occasion to oppresse hym, as Marcius a Romaine oppressed the armie of the Carthaginers, whom having slain the twoo Scipions, and broken their armie, not estemyng thesame remnaunt of menne, whiche with Marcius remained a live, were of hym assaulted and overthrowen: for that it is seen, that there is no thing so moche to bee brought to passe, as thesame, whiche the enemie thinketh, that thou canst not attempte: bicause for the moste parte, men bee hurte moste, where thei doubt leaste: therefore a capitain ought when he cannot doe this, to devise at least with diligence, that the losse bee lesse hurtfull, to dooe this, it is necessarie for thee to use meanes, that the enemie maie not easely folowe thee, or to give him occasion to make delaie: in the first case, some after thei have been sure to lese, have taken order with their heddes, that in divers partes, and by divers waies thei should flie, havyng appoincted wher thei should after assemble together: the which made, that thenemie (fearing to devide the armie)  was faine to let go safe either all, or the greatest part of them. In the seconde case, many have cast before the enemie, their dearest thinges, to the entent that he tariyng about the spoile, might give them more laisure to flie. Titus Dimius used no small policie to hide the losse, whiche he had received in the faight, for asmoche as havyng fought untill night, with great losse of his menne, he made in the night to be buried, the greatest part of them, wherefore in the mornyng, the enemies seyng so many slaine of theirs, and so fewe of the Romaines, belevyng that thei had the disavauntage, ran awaie. I trust I have thus confusedly, as I saied, satisfied in good part your demaunde: in dede about the facions of the armies, there resteth me to tell you, how some tyme, by some Capitaines, it hath been used to make theim with the fronte, like unto a wedge, judgyng to bee able by soche meane, more easely to open the enemies armie. Against this facion, thei have used to make a facion like unto a paire of sheres, to be able betwene thesame voide place, to receive that wedge, and to compasse it about, and to faight with it on every side: whereupon I will that you take this generall rule, that the greatest remedie that is used againste a devise of the enemie, is to dooe willingly thesame, whiche he hath devised that thou shalt dooe perforce: bicause that doyng it willingly, thou doest it with order, and with thy advauntage, and his disadvauntage, if thou shouldest doe it beyng inforced, it should be thy undoyng: For the provyng whereof, I care not to reherse unto you, certain thynges alredy tolde. The adversary maketh the wedge to open thy bandes: if thou gowest with them open, thou disorderest hym, and he disordereth not thee. Aniball set the Elephantes in the fronte of his armie, to open with theim the armie of Scipio. Scipio went with it open, and it was the occasion of his victorie, and of the ruine of hym. Asdruball placed his strongest men in the middest of the fronte of his armie, to overthrowe Scipios menne: Scipio commaunded, that by them selves thei should retire and he broke theim: So that like devises when thei are foreseen, bee the causes of the  victorie of him, against whom thei be prepared. There remaineth me also, if I remember my self well, to tell you what respectes a Capitaine ought to have, before he leade his men to faight: upon whiche I have to tell you firste, how a capitaine ought never to faight a battaile, except he have advauntage, or be constrained. The vantage groweth of the situacion, of the order, of havyng more, or better menne: the necessitie groweth when thou seest how that not faightyng, thou muste in any wise lose, as should bee for lackyng of money, and for this, thy armie to bee ready all maner of waies to resolve, where famishemente is ready to assaulte thee, where the enemie looketh to bee ingrosed with newe men: in these cases, thou oughtest alwaies to faight, although with thy disadvauntage: for that it is moche better to attempte fortune, where she maie favour thee, then not attemptyng, to see thy certaine ruine: and it is as grevous a faulte in this case, in a capitain not to faight, as to have had occasion to overcome, and not to have either knowen it through ignoraunce, or lefte it through vilenesse. The advauntages some tymes the enemie giveth thee, and some tymes thy prudence: Many in passyng Rivers have been broken of their enemie, that hath been aware thereof, whom hath taried, till the one halfe hath been of the one side, and the other halfe on the other, and then hath assaulted them: as Cesar did to the Suizzers, where he destroied the fowerth parte of theim, through beyng halfe over a river. Some tyme thy enemie is founde wearie, for havyng folowed thee to undescritely, so that findyng thy self freshe and lustie, thou oughtest not to let passe soche an occasion: besides this, if the enemie offer unto thee in the mornyng betymes to faight, thou maiest a good while deferre to issue out of thy lodgyng, and when he hath stoode long in armour, and that he hath loste that same firste heate, with the whiche he came, thou maiest then faight with him. This waie Scipio and Metellus used in Spaine: the one against Asdruball, the other against Sertorius. If the enemie be deminished of power, either for havyng devided the armie, as the Scipions in Spain, or  for some other occasion, thou oughteste to prove chaunce. The greateste parte of prudent capitaines, rather receive the violence of the enemies, then go with violence to assalte them: for that the furie is easely withstoode of sure and steddie menne, and the furie beyng sustained, converteth lightly into vilenesse: Thus Fabius did againste the Sannites, and against the Galles, and was victorious and his felowe Decius remained slain. Some fearing the power of their enemies, have begun the faight a little before night, to the intent that their men chaunsyng to bee overcome, might then by the helpe of the darkenesse thereof, save theim selves. Some havyng knowen, how the enemies armie beyng taken of certaine supersticion, not to faight in soche a tyme, have chosen thesame tyme to faighte, and overcome: The whiche Cesar observed in Fraunce, againste Arionistus, and Vespasian in Surrie, againste the Jewes. The greatest and moste importaunte advertismente, that a capitaine ought to have, is to have aboute hym faithfull menne, that are wise and moste expert in the warre, with whom he must continually consulte and reason of his men, and of those of the enemies, whiche is the greater nomber, whiche is beste armed, or beste on horsebacke, or best exercised, whiche be moste apte to suffer necessitie, in whom he trusteth moste, either in the footemen, or in the horsemen: after thei ought to consider the place where thei be, and whether it be more to the purpose for thenemie, then for him: which of theim hath victualles moste commodious: whether it be good to deferre the battaile, or to faight it: what good might bee given hym, or taken awaie by tyme: for that many tymes, souldiours seyng the warre to be delaied, are greved, and beyng wearie, in the pain and in the tediousnesse therof, wil forsake thee. It importeth above all thyng, to knowe the capitain of the enemies, and whom he hath aboute hym, whether he be rashe, or politike, whether he be fearfull, or hardie: to see how thou maiest truste upon the aidyng souldiours. And above all thyng thou oughtest to take hede, not to conducte the armie to faight when it feareth, or when in any wise it mistrusteth  of the victorie: for that the greatest signe to lose, is thei beleve not to be able to winne: and therfore in this case, thou oughtest to avoide the faightyng of the fielde, either with doyng as Fabius Maximus, whom incampyng in strong places, gave no courage to Aniball, to goe to finde hym, or when thou shouldest thinke, that the enemie also in strong places, would come to finde thee, to departe out of the fielde, and to devide the menne into thy tounes to thentent that tediousnesse of winnyng them, maie wearie hym.

ZANOBI. Cannot the faightyng of the battaile be otherwise avoided, then in devidyng the armie in sunderie partes and placyng the men in tounes?

Fabius Maximus.

FABRICIO. I beleve that ones alreadie, with some of you I have reasoned, how that he, that is in the field, cannot avoide to faight the battaile, when he hath an enemie, which will faight with hym in any wise, and he hath not, but one remedie, and that is, to place him self with his armie distant fiftie miles at leaste, from his adversarie, to be able betymes to avoide him, when he should go to finde hym. For Fabius Maximus never avoided to faight the battaile with Aniball, but he would have it with his advauntage: and Aniball did not presume to bee able to overcome hym, goyng to finde hym in the places where he incamped: where if he had presupposed, to have been able to have overcome, it had been conveniente for Fabius, to have fought the battaile with hym, or to have avoided.

Philip king of Macedonia, overcome by the Romaines; How Cingentorige avoided the faightyng of the fielde with Cesar; The ignorance of the Venecians; What is to be doen wher soldiours desire to faight, contrary to their capitaines minde; How to incourage souldiers; An advertisment to make the soldiour most obstinately to faight.

Philip Kyng of Macedonia, thesame that was father to Perse, commyng to warre with the Romaines, pitched his campe upon a verie high hill, to the entent not to faight with theim: but the Romaines wente to find hym on thesame hill, and discomfaited hym. Cingentorige capitain of the Frenche menne, for that he would not faight the field with Cesar, whom contrarie to his opinion, had passed a river, got awaie many miles with his men. The Venecians in our tyme, if thei would not have come to have fought with the Frenche kyng, thei ought not to have taried till the Frenche armie, had passed the River Addus, but to have  gotten from them as Cingentorige, where thei havyng taried knewe not how to take in the passyng of the men, the occasion to faight the battaile, nor to avoide it: For that the Frenche men beyng nere unto them, as the Venecians went out of their Campe, assaulted theim, and discomfited theim: so it is, that the battaile cannot bee avoided, when the enemie in any wise will faight, nor let no man alledge Fabius, for that so moche in thesame case, he did flie the daie of battaile, as Aniball. It happeneth many tymes, that thy souldiours be willyng to faight, and thou knoweste by the nomber, and by the situacion, or for some other occasion to have disadvauntage, and desirest to make them chaunge from this desire: it happeneth also, that necessitie, or occasion, constraineth thee to faight, and that thy souldiours are evill to be trusted, and smally disposed to faight: where it is necessarie in thone case, to make theim afraied, and in the other to incourage theim: In the firste case, when perswacions suffiseth not, there is no better waie, then to give in praie, a part of them unto thenemie, to thintent those that have, and those that have not fought, maie beleve thee: and it may very wel be doen with art, thesame which to Fabius Maximus hapned by chaunce. Tharmie of Fabius (as you knowe) desired to faight with Aniballs armie: the very same desire had the master of his horses: to Fabius it semed not good, to attempte the faight: so that through soche contrary opinions, he was fain to devide the armie: Fabius kept his men in the campe, the other fought, and commyng into great perill, had been overthrowen, if Fabius had not rescued him: by the whiche insample the maister of the horse, together with all the armie, knewe how it was a wise waie to obeie Fabius. Concernyng to incourage theim to faight, it should be well doen, to make them to disdain the enemies, shewyng how thei speake slaunderous woordes of them, to declare to have intelligence with them, and to have corrupted part of them, to incampe in place, where thei maie see the enemies, and make some light skirmishe with them, for that the thyng that is dailie seen, with more facilitie is despised: to shewe  theim to bee unworthie, and with an oracion for the purpose, to reprehende them of their cowardnesse, and for to make them ashamed, to tell theim that you will faight alone, when thei will not beare you companie. And you ought above all thyng to have this advertismente, mindyng to make the Souldiour obstinate to faight, not to permitte, that thei maie send home any of their substaunce, or to leave it in any place, till the warre bee ended, that thei maie understande, that although fliyng save their life, yet it saveth not theim their goodes, the love whereof, is wonte no lesse then thesame, to make men obstinate in defence.

ZANOBI. YOU have tolde, how the souldiours maie be tourned to faight, with speakyng to theim: doe you meane by this, that all the armie must bee spoken unto, or to the heddes thereof?

It is requisite for excellent Capitaines to bee good orators; Alexander Magnus used openly to perswade his armie; The effecteousnes of speking; Souldiours ought to be accustomed to heare their Capitaine speake; How in olde time souldiers were threatened for their faltes; Enterprises maie the easelier be brought to passe by meanes of religion; Sertorius; A policie of Silla; A policie of Charles the seventh king of Fraunce against the Englishmen; How souldiers maiebee made to esteme little their enemies; The surest wai to make souldiours moste obstinat to faight; By what meanes obstinatenesse to faighte is increased.

FABRICIO. TO perswade, or to diswade a thyng unto fewe, is verie easie, for that if woordes suffise not, you maie then use aucthoritie and force: but the difficultie is, to remove from a multitude an evill opinion, and that whiche is contrary either to the common profite, or to thy opinion, where cannot be used but woordes, the whiche is meete that thei be heard of every man, mindyng to perswade them all. Wherfore, it was requisite that the excellente Capitaines were oratours: for that without knowyng how to speake to al the army, with difficultie maie be wrought any good thing: the whiche altogether in this our tyme is laied aside. Rede the life of Alexander Magnus, and you shall see how many tymes it was necessarie for hym to perswade, and to speake publikly to his armie: otherwise he should never have brought theim, beyng become riche, and full of spoile, through the desertes of Arabia, and into India with so moche his disease, and trouble: for that infinite tymes there growe thynges, wherby an armie ruinateth, when the capitain either knoweth not, or useth not to speake unto thesame, for that this speakyng taketh awaie feare, in courageth the mindes, increaseth the obstinatenes to faight, discovereth the deceiptes, promiseth rewardes, sheweth the perilles, and the waie to avoide theim, reprehendeth, praieth,  threatened, filleth full of hope, praise, shame, and doeth a11 those thynges, by the whiche the humaine passions are extincte or kendled: wherefore, that prince, or common weale, whiche should appoincte to make a newe power, and cause reputacion to their armie, ought to accustome the Souldiours thereof, to heare the capitain to speake, and the capitain to know how to speake unto them. In kepyng desposed the souldiours in old tyme, to faight for their countrie, the religion availed moche, and the othes whiche thei gave them, when thei led theim to warfare: for as moche as in al their faultes, thei threatned them not onely with those punishementes, whiche might be feared of men but with those whiche of God might be looked for: the whiche thyng mingled with the other Religious maners, made many tymes easie to the auncient capitaines all enterprises, and will doe alwaies, where religion shall be feared, and observed. Sertorius prevailed, by declaryng that he spake with a Stagge, the whiche in Goddes parte, promised hym the victorie. Silla saied, he spoke with an Image, whiche he had taken out of the Temple of Apollo. Many have tolde how God hath appered unto them in their slepe, whom hath admonished them to faight. In our fathers time, Charles the seventh kyng of Fraunce, in the warre whiche he made againste the Englishemen, saied, he counsailed with a maide, sent from God, who was called every where the Damosell of Fraunce, the which was occacion of his victorie. There maie be also used meanes, that maie make thy men to esteme little the enemie, as Agesilao a Spartaine used, whom shewed to his souldiours, certain Persians naked, to the intent that seyng their delicate members, thei should not have cause to feare them. Some have constrained their men to faight through necessitie, takyng awaie from them all hope of savyng theim selves, savyng in overcommyng. The whiche is the strongest, and the beste provision that is made, to purpose to make the souldiour obstinate to faight: whiche obstinatenesse is increased by the confidence, and love of the Capitaine, or of the countrie. Confidence is caused through the armour,  the order the late victorie, and the opinion of the Capitaine. The love of the countrie, is caused of nature: that of the Capitain, through vertue, more then by any other benefite: the necessities maie be many, but that is strongest, whiche constraineth thee; either to overcome, or to dye.

THE FIVETH BOOKE

How the Romaines marched with their armies; How the Romaines ordered their armie when it happened to be assaulted on the waie; How the main battailes ought to marche; The orderyng of an armie after soche sorte, that it maie marche safelie through the enemies countrie and be alwaies in a redines to faight; The place in the armie wher the bowmen and Harkabutters are appoincted; The place in the armie wher thextraordinarie Pikes are appoincted. The place in the armie wherthe generall capitain must be; Where the artillerie must be placed. The light horsmenne must be sente before to discover the countrie and the menne of armes to come behind tharmy; A generall rule concernyng horse; Wher the carriages and the unarmed are placed; The waie must be made plaine wher the armie shall marche in order; How many miles a day an armie maie marche in battaile raie, to bee able to incampe before sunne set; The orderyng of the armie, when it is assaulted on the vawarde; The orderyng of tharmie when thenemie commes to assaulte it behinde; How the armie is ordered when it is assaulted of any of the sides; doen when the army is assaulted on twoo sides.

FABRICIO. I have shewed you, how an armi, is ordained to faight a fielde with an other armie, which is seen pitched against it, and have declared unto you, howe the same is overcome, and after many circumstaunces, I have likewise shewed you, what divers chaunces, maie happen about thesame, so that me thinkes tyme to shewe you now, how an armie is ordered, againste thesame enemie, whiche otherwise is not seen, but continually feared, that he assaulte thee: this happeneth when an armie marcheth through the enemies countrie, or through suspected places. Firste, you must understande, how a Romaine armie, sent alwaies ordinarely afore, certaine bandes of horsemen, as spies of the waie: after followed the right horne, after this, came all the carriages, whiche to thesame apperteined, after this, came a Legion, after it, the carriages therof, after that, an other legion, and next to it, their carriages, after whiche, came the left horne, with the carriages thereof at their backe, and in the laste part, folowed the remnaunte of the chivalrie: this was in effecte the maner, with whiche ordinarily thei marched: and if it happened that the armie were assaulted in the waie on the fronte, or on the backe, thei made straight waie all the carriages to bee drawen, either on the right, or on the lefte side, accordyng as chaunsed, or as thei could beste, havyng  respecte to the situacion: and all the men together free from their impedimentes, made hedde on that parte, where the enemie came. If thei were assaulted on the flancke, thei drue the carriages towardes thesame parte that was safe, and of the other, thei made hedde. This waie beyng well and prudently governed, I have thought meete to imitate, sending afore the light horsemen, as exploratours of the Countrie: Then havyng fower maine battailes I would make them to marche in araie, and every one with their carriages folowyng theim. And for that there be twoo sortes of carriages, that is partainyng to particulare souldiours, and partainyng to the publike use of all the Campe, I would devide the publike Carriages into fower partes, and to every maine battaile, I would appoinct his parte, deviding also the artillerie into fower partes, and all the unarmed, so that every nomber of armed menne, should equally have their impedimentes. But bicause it happeneth some times, that thei marche through the countrie, not onely suspected, but so daungerous, that thou fearest every hower to be assaulted, thou art constrained for to go more sure, to chaunge the forme of marchyng, and to goe in soche wise prepared, that neither the countrie menne, nor any armie, maie hurte thee, findyng thee in any parte unprovided. In soche case, the aunciente capitaines were wont, to marche with the armie quadrante, whiche so thei called this forme, not for that it was altogether quadrante, but for that it was apte to faight of fower partes, and thei saied, that thei wente prepared, bothe for the waie, and for the faight: from whiche waie, I will not digresse, and I will ordaine my twoo maine battailes, whiche I have taken for to make an armie of, to this effect. Mindyng therefore, to marche safely through the enemies Countrie, and to bee able to aunswere hym on every side, when at unwares the armie might chaunce to be assaulted, and intendyng therefore, accordyng to the antiquitie, to bryng thesame into a square, I would devise to make a quadrant, that the rome therof should be of space on every part Clix. yardes, in this maner. First I would put the flanckes, distant the one  flanck from the other, Clix. yardes, and I would place five battailes for a flancke, in a raie in length, and distant the one from the other, twoo yardes and a quarter: the whiche shall occupie with their spaces, every battaile occupiyng thirtie yardes, Clix. yardes. Then betwen the hedde and the taile of these two flanckes, I would place the other tenne battailes, in every parte five, orderyng them after soche sorte, that fower should joyne to the hedde of the right flanck, and fower to the taile of the lefte flancke, leaving betwene every one of them, a distance of thre yardes: one should after joyne to the hedde of the lefte flancke, and one to the taile of the right flancke: and for that the space that is betwene the one flancke and the other, is Clix. yardes, and these battailes whiche are set the one to the side of the other by breadth, and not by length, will come to occupie with the distaunces one hundred yardes and a halfe yarde, there shall come betwene theim fower battailes, placed in the fronte on the right flancke, and the one placed in thesame on the lefte, to remaine a space of fiftie and eighte yardes and a halfe, and the verie same space will come to remaine in the battailes, placed in the hinder parte: nor there shall bee no difference, saving that the one space shall come on the parte behind towardes the right horne, and thother shall come on the parte afore, towardes the lefte home. In the space of the lviii. yardes and a halfe before, I would place all the ordinarie Veliti, in thesame behinde, the extraordinarie, which wil come to be a thousande for a space, and mindyng to have the space that ought to be within the armie, to be every waie Clix. yardes, it is mete that the five battailes, whiche are placed in the hedde, and those whiche are placed in the taile, occupie not any parte of the space, whiche the flanckes keepe: and therefore it shall be convenient, that the five battailes behinde, doe touche with the fronte, the taile of their flanckes, and those afore, with the taile to touche he hedde, after soche sorte, that upon every corner of the ame armie, there maie remaine a space, to receive an other battaile: and for that there bee fower spaces, I would take  fower bandes of the extraordinarie Pikes, and in every corner I would place one, and the twoo Ansignes of the foresaied Pikes, whiche shall remain overplus, I would sette in the middest of the rome of this armie, in a square battaile, on the hedde whereof, should stande the generall capitaine, with his menne about him. And for that these battailes ordeined thus, marche all one waie, but faight not all one waie, in puttyng them together, those sides ought to be ordained to faight, whiche are not defended of thother battailes. And therfore it ought to be considered, that the five battailes that be in the front, have all their other partes defended, excepte the fronte: and therfore these ought to bee put together in good order, and with the Pikes afore. The five battailes whiche are behinde, have all their sides defended, except the parte behinde, and therefore those ought to bee put together in soche wise, that the Pikes come behind, as in the place therof we shall shewe. The five battailes that bee in the right flancke, have all their sides defended, except the right flancke. The five that be on the left flanck, have all their partes defended, excepte the lefte flancke: and therefore in orderyng the battailes, thei ought to bee made, that the Pikes maie tourne on the same flanck, that lieth open: and the Peticapitaines to stand on the hedde, and on the taile, so that nedyng to faight, all the armour and weapons maie be in their due places, the waie to doe this, is declared where we reasoned of the maner of orderyng the battailes. The artillerie I would devide, and one parte I would place without, on the lefte flancke, and the other on the right. The light horsemen, I would sende afore to discover the countrie. Of the menne of armes, I would place part behinde, on the right home, and parte on the lefte, distante about thirtie yardes from the battailes: and concerning horse, you have to take this for a general rule in every condicion, where you ordaine an armie, that alwaies thei ought to be put, either behinde, or on the flanckes of thesame: he that putteth them afore, over against the armie, it behoveth hym to doe one of these twoo thinges, either that he put  them so moche afore, that beyng repulced, thei maie have so moche space, that maie give them tyme, to be able to go a side from thy footemen, and not to runne upon them, or to order them in soche wise, with so many spaces, that the horses by those maie enter betwene them, without disorderyng them. Nor let no man esteme little this remembraunce, for as moche as many capitaines, whom havyng taken no hede thereof, have been ruinated, and by themselves have been disordered, and broken. The carriages and the unarmed menne are placed, in the rome that remaineth within the armie, and in soche sorte equally devided, that thei maie give the waie easely, to whom so ever would go, either from the one corner to the other, or from the one hedde, to the other of the armie. These battailes without the artillerie and the horse, occupie every waie from the utter side, twoo hundred and eleven yardes and a halfe of space: and bicause this quadrante is made of twoo main battailes, it is convenient to distinguishe, what part thone maine battaile maketh, and what the other: and for that the main battailes are called by the nomber, and every of theim hath (as you knowe) tenne battailes, and a generall hed, I would cause that the first main battaile, should set the first v. battailes therof in the front, the other five, in the left flanck, and the capitain of the same should stande in the left corner of the front. The seconde maine battaile, should then put the firste five battailes therof, in the right flanck, and the other five in the taile, and the hedde capitain of thesame, should stande in the right corner, whom should come to dooe the office of the Tergiductor. The armie ordained in this maner, ought to be made to move, and in the marchyng, to observe all this order, and without doubte, it is sure from all the tumultes of the countrie men. Nor the capitain ought not to make other provision, to the tumultuarie assaultes, then to give sometyme Commission to some horse, or Ansigne of Veliti, that thei set themselves in order: nor it shall never happen that these tumultuous people, will come to finde thee at the drawyng of the swerd, or pikes poincte: for that men out of order, have  feare of those that be in araie: and alwaies it shall bee seen, that with cries and rumours, thei will make a greate assaulte, without otherwise commyng nere unto thee, like unto barking curres aboute a Mastie. Aniball when he came to the hurte of the Romaines into Italie, he passed through all Fraunce, and alwaies of the Frenche tumultes, he took small regarde. Mindyng to marche, it is conveniente to have plainers and labourers afore, whom maie make thee the waie plaine, whiche shall bee garded of those horsemen, that are sent afore to viewe the countrie: an armie in this order maie marche tenne mile the daie, and shall have tyme inough to incampe, and suppe before Sunne goyng doune, for that ordinarely, an armie maie marche twentie mile: if it happen that thou be assaulted, of an armie set in order, this assaulte cannot growe sodainly: for that an armie in order, commeth with his pace, so that thou maiest have tyme inough, to set thy self in order to faight the field, and reduce thy menne quickly into thesame facion, or like to thesame facion of an armie, which afore is shewed thee. For that if thou be assaulted, on the parte afore, thou needeste not but to cause, that the artillerie that be on the flanckes, and the horse that be behinde, to come before, and place theimselves in those places, and with those distaunces, as afore is declared. The thousande Veliti that bee before, must go out of their place, and be devided into CCCCC. for a parte, and go into their place, betwene the horse and the hornes of tharmy: then in the voide place that thei shal leave, the twoo Ansignes of the extraordinarie Pikes muste entre, whiche I did set in the middest of the quadrante of the armie. The thousande Veliti, whiche I placed behinde, must departe from thesame place, and devide them selves in the flanckes of the battailes, to the fortificacion of those: and by the open place that thei shal leave, all the carriages and unarmed menne must go out, and place themselves on the backe of the battaile. Then the rome in the middeste beyng voided, and every man gone to his place: the five battailes, whiche I placed behinde on the armie, must make forward in the voide place, that is  betwene the one and the other flanck, and marche towardes the battailes, that stand in the hedde, and three of theim, muste stande within thirtie yardes of those, with equall distances, betwene the one and the other, and the other twoo shal remain behinde, distaunte other thirtie yardes: the whiche facion maie bee ordained in a sodaine, and commeth almoste to bee like, unto the firste disposicion, whiche of tharmy afore we shewed. And though it come straighter in the fronte, it commeth grosser in the flanckes, whiche giveth it no lesse strength: but bicause the five battailes, that be in the taile, have the Pikes on the hinder parte, for the occasion that before we have declared, it is necessarie to make theim to come on the parte afore, mindyng to have theim to make a backe to the front of tharmie: and therfore it behoveth either to make them to tourne battaile after battaile, as a whole body, or to make them quickly to enter betwen thorders of targettes, and conduct them afore, the whiche waie is more spedy, and of lesse disorder, then to make them to turn al together: and so thou oughtest to doe of all those, whiche remain behind in every condicion of assault, as I shal shewe you. If it appere that thenemie come on the part behinde, the first thyng that ought to bee dooen, is to cause that every man tourne his face where his backe stode, and straight waie tharmie cometh to have made of taile, hed, and of hed taile: then al those waies ought to be kept, in orderyng thesame fronte, as I tolde afore. If the enemie come to incounter the right flancke, the face of thy armie ought to bee made to tourne towardes thesame side: after, make all those thynges in fortificacion of thesame hedde, whiche above is saied, so that the horsemen, the Veliti, and the artillerie, maie be in places conformable to the hed thereof: onely you have this difference, that in variyng the hed of those, which are transposed, some have to go more, and some lesse. In deede makyng hedde of the right flancke, the Veliti ought to enter in the spaces, that bee betwene the horne of the armie, and those horse, whiche were nerest to the lefte flancke, in whose place ought to enter, the twoo Ansignes of the  extraordinarie Pikes, placed in the middest: But firste the carriages and the unarmed, shall goe out by the open place, avoidyng the rome in the middest, and retiryng themselves behinde the lefte flancke, whiche shall come to bee then the taile of the armie: the other Veliti that were placed in the taile, accordyng to the principall orderyng of the armie, in this case, shall not move: Bicause the same place should not remaine open, whiche of taile shall come to be flancke: all other thyng ought to bee dooen, as in orderyng of the firste hedde is saied: this that is told about the makyng hed of the right flanck, must be understode to be told, havyng nede to make it of the left flanck: for that the very same order ought to bee observed. If the enemie should come grose, and in order to assaulte thee on twoo sides, those twoo sides, whiche he commeth to assaulte thee on, ought to bee made stronge with the other twoo sides, that are not assaulted, doublyng the orders in eche of theim, and devidyng for bothe partes the artillerie, the Veliti, and the horse. If he come on three or on fower sides, it is necessarie that either thou or he lacke prudence: for that if thou shalt bee wise, thou wilte never putte thy self in place, that the enemie on three or fower sides, with a greate nomber of men, and in order, maie assault thee: for that mindyng, safely to hurte thee, it is requisit, that he be so great, that on every side, he maie assault thee, with as many men, as thou haste almoste in al thy army: and if thou be so unwise, that thou put thy self in the daunger and force of an enemie, whom hath three tymes more menne ordained then thou, if thou catche hurte, thou canste blame no man but thy self: if it happen not through thy faulte, but throughe some mischaunce, the hurt shall be without the shame, and it shal chaunce unto thee, as unto the Scipions in Spaine, and to Asdruball in Italie but if the enemie have not many more men then thou, and intende for to disorder thee, to assaulte thee on divers sides, it shal be his foolishnesse, and thy good fortune: for as moche as to doe so, it is convenient, that he become so thinne in soche wise, that then easely thou maiste overthrow  one bande, and withstande an other, and in short time ruinate him: this maner of ordering an armie against an enemie, whiche is not seen, but whiche is feared, is a necessarie and a profitable thing, to accustome thy souldiours, to put themselves together, and to march with soche order, and in marchyng, to order theimselves to faight, accordyng to the first hedde, and after to retourne in the forme, that thei marched in, then to make hedde of the taile, after, of the flanckes, from these, to retourne into the first facion: the whiche exercises and uses bee necessarie, mindyng to have an armie, throughly instructed and practised: in whiche thyng the Princes and the capitaines, ought to take paine. Nor the discipline of warre is no other, then to knowe how to commaunde, and to execute these thynges. Nor an instructed armie is no other, then an armie that is wel practised in these orders: nor it cannot be possible, that who so ever in this time, should use like disciplin shall ever bee broken. And if this quadrante forme whiche I have shewed you, is somewhat difficulte, soche difficultnesse is necessarie, takyng it for an exercise: for as moche as knowyng well, how to set theim selves in order, and to maintaine theim selves in the same, thei shall knowe after more easely, how to stand in those, whiche should not have so moche difficultie.

ZANOBI. I beleve as you saie, that these orders bee verie necessarie, and I for my parte, knowe not what to adde or take from it: true it is, that I desire to know of you twoo thynges, the one, if when you will make of the taile, or of the flancke hedde, and would make them to tourne, whether this be commaunded by the voice, or with the sounde: thother, whether those that you sende afore, to make plain the waie, for the armie to marche, ought to be of the verie same souldiours of your battailes, or other vile menne appoincted, to like exercise.

Commaundementes of Capitaines being not wel understoode, maie be the destruction of an armie; Respect that is to be had in commaundementes made with the sounde of the Trompet; In commaundmentes made with the voice, what respect is to be had; Of Pianars.

FABRICIO. Your firste question importeth moche: for that many tymes the commaundementes of Capitaines, beyng not well understoode, or evill interpreted, have disordered their armie: therfore the voices, with the whiche thei commaunde  in perilles, ought to bee cleare, and nete. And if thou commaunde with the sounde, it is convenient to make, that betwene the one waie and the other, there be so moche difference, that the one cannot be chaunged for the other: and if thou commaundest with the voice, thou oughteste to take heede, that thou flie the general voices, and to use the particulares, and of the particulars, to flie those, whiche maie be interpreted sinisterly. Many tymes the saiyng backe, backe, hath made to ruinate an armie; therfore this voice ought not to be used, but in steede therof to use, retire you. If you will make theim to tourne, for to chaunge the hedde, either to flanck, or to backe, use never to saie tourne you, but saie to the lefte, to the right, to the backe, to the front: thus all the other voices ought to be simple, and nete, as thrust on, march, stande stronge, forwarde, retourne you: and all those thynges, whiche maie bee dooen with the voice, thei doe, the other is dooen with the sounde. Concernyng those menne, that must make the waies plaine for the armie to marche, whiche is your seconde question, I would cause my owne souldiours to dooe this office, as well bicause in the aunciente warfare thei did so, as also for that there should be in the armie, lesser nomber of unarmed men, and lesse impedimentes: and I would choose out of every battaile, thesame nomber that should nede, and I would make theim to take the instrumentes, meete to plaine the grounde withall, and their weapons to leave with those rankes, that should bee nereste them, who should carrie them, and the enemie commyng, thei shall have no other to doe, then to take them again, and to retourne into their araie.

ZANOBI. Who shall carrie thinstrumentes to make the waie plaine withall?

FABRICIO. The Cartes that are appoincted to carrie the like instrumentes.

ZANOBI. I doubte whether you should ever brynge these our souldiours, to labour with Shovell or Mattocke, after soche sorte.

The victualles that thantiquitie made provision of, for their armies.

FABRICIO. All these thynges shall bee reasoned in the  place thereof, but now I will let alone this parte, and reason of the maner of the victualing of the armie: for that me thinketh, havyng so moche traivailed theim, it is tyme to refreshe them, and to comfort them with meate. You have to understande, that a Prince ought to ordaine his armie, as expedite as is possible, and take from thesame all those thynges, whiche maie cause any trouble or burthen unto it, and make unto hym any enterprise difficulte. Emongest those thynges that causeth moste difficultie, is to be constrained to keepe the armie provided of wine, and baked bread. The antiquitie cared not for Wine, for that lackyng it, thei dranke water, mingeled with a little vinegre, to give it a taste: For whiche cause, emong the municions of victualles for the hoste, vineger was one, and not wine. Thei baked not the breade in Ovens, as thei use for Citees, but thei provided the Meale, and of thesame, every Souldiour after his owne maner, satisfied hym self, havyng for condimente Larde and Baken, the whiche made the breade saverie, that thei made, and maintained theim strong, so that the provision of victualles for the armie, was Meale, Vineger, Larde, and Bacon, and for the horses Barley. Thei had ordinarely heardes of greate beastes and small, whiche folowed the armie, the whiche havyng no nede to bee carried, caused not moche impedimente. Of this order there grewe, that an armie in old time, marched somtymes many daies through solitarie places, and difficulte, without sufferyng disease of victualles: for that thei lived of thyngs, whiche easely thei might convey after them. To the contrarie it happeneth in the armies, that are now a daies, whiche mindyng not to lacke wine, and to eate baked breade in thesame maner, as when thei are at home, whereof beyng not able to make provision long, thei remaine often tymes famished, or though thei be provided, it is dooen with disease, and with moste greate coste: therfore I would reduce my armie to this maner of living: and I would not that thei should eate other bread, then that, which by themselves thei should bake. Concernyng wine, I would not prohibite the drinkyng thereof, nor yet the commyng of it  into the armie, but I would not use indevour, nor any labour for to have it, and in the other provisions, I would governe my self altogether, like unto the antiquitie: the whiche thing, if you consider well, you shall see how moche difficultie is taken awaie, and how moche trouble and disease, an armie and a capitaine is avoided of, and how moche commoditie shall bee given, to what so ever enterprise is to bee dooen.

ZANOBI. We have overcome thenemie in the field, marched afterward upon his countrie, reason would, that spoiles be made, tounes sacked, prisoners taken, therefore I would knowe how the antiquitie in these thynges, governed them selves.

The occasions why the warres made nowe adaies, doe impoverishe the conquerors as well as the conquered; The order that the Romaines toke, concerning the spoile and the booties that their souldiours gotte; An order that the antiquitie tooke, concernyng their soldiours wages.

FABRICIO. Beholde, I will satisfie you. I beleve you have considered, for that once alredie with some of you I have reasoned, howe these present warres, impoverishe as well those lordes that overcome, as those that leese: for that if the one leese his estate, the other leeseth his money, and his movables: the whiche in olde time was not, for that the conquerour of the warre, waxed ritche. This groweth of keepyng no compte in these daies of the spoiles, as in olde tyme thei did, but thei leave it to the discreacion of the souldiours. This manner maketh twoo moste great disorders: the one, that whiche I have tolde: the other that the souldiour becometh more covetous to spoyle, and lesse observeth the orders: and manie times it hath been seen, howe the covetousnesse of the praye, hath made those to leese, whome were victorious. Therefore the Romaines whiche were princes of armies, provided to the one and to the other of these inconvenienses, ordainyng that all the spoyle should apertaine to the publicke, and that the publicke after should bestowe it, as shoulde be thought good: and therfore thei had in tharmie the questours, whom were as we would say, the chamberlaines, to whose charge all the spoyle and booties were committed: whereof the consull was served to geve the ordinarie pay to the souldiours, to succour the wounded, and the sicke, and for the other businesse of the armie. The consull might well, and he used it often, to graunte a spoyle to soldiours: but  this grauntyng, made no disorder: for that the armie beyng broken all the pray was put in the middest, and distributed by hedde, accordyng to the qualitee of everie man: the which maner thei constituted, to thintente, that the soldiours should attend to overcome, and not to robbe: and the Romaine Legions overcame the enemies, and folowed them not, for that thei never departed from their orders: onely there folowed them, the horsemenne with those that were light armed, and if there were any other souldiours then those of the legions, they likewyse pursued the chase. Where if the spoyle shoulde have ben his that gotte it, it had not ben possible nor reasonable, to have kepte the legions steddie, and to withstonde manie perils; hereby grewe therefore, that the common weale inritched, and every Consull carried with his triumphe into the treasurie, muche treasure, whiche all was of booties and spoiles. An other thing the antiquetie did upon good consideration, that of the wages, whiche they gave to every souldiour, the thirde parte they woulde shoulde be laied up nexte to him, whome carried the ansigne of their bande, whiche never gave it them againe, before the warre was ended: this thei did, beyng moved of twoo reasons, the first was to thintente, that the souldiour should thrive by his wages, because the greatest parte of them beyng yonge men, and carelesse, the more thei have, so muche the more without neede thei spende, the other cause was, for that knowyng, that their movabelles were nexte to the ansigne, thei should be constrained to have more care thereof, and with more obstinatenesse to defende it: and this made them stronge and to holde together: all which thynges is necessarie to observe, purposinge to reduce the exercise of armes unto the intier perfection therof.

ZANOBI. I beleeve that it is not possible, that to an armie that marcheth from place to place, there fal not perrilous accidentes, where the industerie of the capitaine is needefull, and the worthinesse of the souldiours, mindyng to avoyde them. Therefore I woulde be glad, that you remembring any, would shew them.

Captaines mai incurre the daunger of ambusshes twoo maner of wayes; How to avoide the perill of ambusshes; Howe ambusshes have ben perceived; Howe the Capitaine of the enemies ought to be esteemed; Where men be in greatest perill; The description of the countrey where an army muste marche, is most requiset for a Capitaine to have; A most profitable thyng it is for a capitayne to be secrete in all his affaires; An advertisment concernyng the marchyng of an armie; The marching of an armie ought to be ruled by the stroke of the Drumme; The condicion of the enemie ought to be considered.

FABRICIO. I shall contente you with a good will, beyng inespetially necessarie, intendyng to make of this exercise a perfecte science. The Capitaines ought above all other thynges, whileste thei marche with an armie, to take heede of ambusshes, wherein they incurre daunger twoo waies, either marchynge thou entrest into them, or thoroughe crafte of the enemie thou arte trained in before thou arte aware. In the first case, mindyng to avoide suche perill, it is necessarie to sende afore double warde, whome may discover the countrey, and so muche the more dilligence ought to be used, the more that the countrey is apte for ambusshes, as be the woddie or hilly countries, for that alwaies thei be layd either in a wodde, or behind a hille: and as the ambusshe not forseene, doeth ruin thee, so forseyng the same, it cannot hurte thee. Manie tymes birdes or muche duste have discovered the enemie: for that alwayes where the enemie cometh to finde thee, he shall make great duste, whiche shall signifie unto thee his comyng: so often tymes a Capitaine seyng in the places where he ought to passe, Doves to rise, or other of those birdes that flie in flockes, and to tourne aboute and not to light, hath knowen by the same the ambusshe of the enemies to be there, and sendynge before his men, and sertainely understandyng it, hath saved him selfe and hurte his enemie. Concernyng the seconde case, to be trained in, (which these our men cal to be drawen to the shot) thou ought to take heede, not straight way to beleve those thinges, which are nothyng reasonable, that thei be as they seeme: as shoulde be, if the enemie should set afore thee a praie, thou oughtest to beleeve that in the same is the hooke, and that therin is hid the deceipte. If many enemies be driven away by a fewe of thine, if a fewe enemies assaulte manie of thine, if the enemies make a sodeine flight, and not standynge with reason, alwaies thou oughtest in suche cases to feare deceipte, and oughtest never to beleeve that the enemie knoweth not how to doe his businesse, but rather intendyng that he may begile thee the lesse, and mindyng to stand in lesse peril, the weaker that he is, and the lesse craftier that  the enemie is, so muche the more thou oughtest to esteeme him: and thou muste in this case use twoo sundrie poinctes, for that thou oughtest to feare him in thy minde and with the order, but with wordes, and with other outewarde demonstracion, to seeme to dispyse him: because this laste way, maketh that the souldiours hope the more to have the victorie: the other maketh thee more warie, and lesse apte to be begyled. And thou hast to understand, that when men marche thoroughe the enemies countrey, they ar in muche more, and greater perils, then in fayghtyng the fielde: and therefore the Capitaine in marchyng, ought to use double diligence: and the first thyng that he ought to doo, is to get described, and payncted oute all the countrie, thorough the which he must marche, so that he maye know the places, the number, the distances, the waies, the hilles, the rivers, the fennes, and all the quallites of them: and to cause this to bee knowen, it is convenient to have with him diversly, and in sundrie maners such men, as know the places, and to aske them with diligence, and to se whether their talke agree, and accordyng to the agreyng therof, to note: he oughte also to sende afore the horsemen, and with them prudente heddes, not so muche to discover the enemie, as to viewe the countrey, to se whether it agree with the description, and with the knowledge that they have of the same. Also the guydes that are sente, ought to be kepte with hope of rewarde, and feare of paine. And above all thynges it ought to be provided, that the armie knowe not to what businesse he leadeth them: for that there is nothyng in the warre more profitable, then to keepe secret the thynges that is to be dooen: and to thintente a suddeine assaulte dooe not trouble thy soldiours, thou oughteste to see them to stande reddie with their weapons, because the thynges that ar provided for, offend lesse. Manie for to avoyde the confusion of marchyng, have placed under the standerde, the carriages, and the unarmed, and have commaunded them to folow the same, to the intente that in marchyng needyng to staye, or to retire, they might dooe it more easely, which thyng as profitable, I alowe very  muche. Also in marchyng, advertismente ought to be had, that the one parte of the armie goe not a sunder from the other, or that thoroughe some goyng fast, and some softe, the armie become not slender: the whiche thynges, be occation of dissorder: therfore the heddes muste be placed in suche wise, that they may maintaine the pace even, causing to goe softe those that goe to fast, and to haste forward the other that goe to sloe, the whiche pace can not bee better ruled, then by the stroke of the drumme. The waies ought to be caused to be inlarged, so that alwaies at least a bande of iiii. hundred men may marche in order of battaile. The custome and the qualitie of the enemie ought to be considered, and whether that he wil assaulte thee either in the mornyng, or at none or in the evenynge, and whether he be more puisante with fotemen or horsemen, and accordyng as thou understandest, to ordeine and to provide for thy self. But let us come to some particular accidente. It hapneth sometime, that thou gettyng from the enemie, because thou judgest thy selfe inferiour, and therfore mindynge not to faight with him, and he comyng at thy backe, thou arivest at the banke of a river, passyng over the which, asketh time, so that the enemie is redie to overtake thee and to fayght with thee. Some, which chaunsing to bee in suche perill, have inclosed their armie on the hinder parte with a diche, and fillyng the same full of towe, and firyng it, have then passed with the armie without beyng able to be letted of the enemie, he beyng by the same fire that was betwene them held backe.

Annone of Carthage.

ZANOBI. I am harde of beliefe, that this fyre coulde stay theim, in especially because I remember that I have harde, howe Annone of Carthage, beyng besieged of enemies, inclosed him selfe on the same parte, with wodde, which he did set on fire where he purposed to make eruption. Wherfore the enemies beyng not intentive on the same parte to looke to him, he made his armie to passe over the same flame, causing every man to holde his Target before his face for to defend them from the fire, and smoke.

Nabide a spartayne; Quintus Luttatius pollecie to passe over a river; How to passe a ryver without a bridge; A polecie of Cesar to passe a river, where his enemie beyng on the other side therof sought to lette hym.

FABRICIO. You saye well: but consider you howe I have  saied, and howe Annone did: for as muche as I saied that they made a diche, and filled it with towe, so that he, that woulde passe over the same, should be constrained to contende with the diche and with fire: Annone made the fire, without the diche, and because he intended to passe over it, he made it not great, for that otherwise without the diche, it shoulde have letted him. Dooe you not knowe, that Nabide a Spartan beyng besieged in Sparta of the Romaines, set fire on parte of his towne to let the way to the Romaines, who alredie wer entred in? And by meane of the same flame not onely hindered their way, but drave them oute: but let us turne to our matter. Quintus Luttatius a Romaine, havyng at his backe the Cimbri, and commyng to a river, to thentente the enemie should give him time to passe over, semed to geve time to them to faight with him: and therfore he fained that he would lodge there, and caused trenches to be made, and certaine pavilions to be erected, and sent certayne horsemen into the countrie for forredge: so that the Cimbrise beleevyng, that he incamped, they also incamped, and devided them selves into sundrie partes, to provide for victuals, wherof Luttatius being aware, passed the river they beyng not able to let him. Some for to passe a river havynge no bridge, have devided it, and one parte they have turned behynde their backes, and the other then becomynge shalower, with ease they have passed it: when the rivers be swift, purposyng to have their footemen to passe safely, they place their strongest horses on the higher side, that thei may sustain the water, and an other parte be lowe that may succour the men, if any of the river in passyng should be overcome with the water: They passe also rivers, that be verie deepe, with bridges, with botes, and with barrelles: and therfore it is good to have in a redinesse in an armie wherewith to be able to make all these thynges. It fortuneth sometime that in passyng a river, the enemie standynge agaynst thee on the other banke, doeth let thee: to minde to overcome this difficultie, I know not a better insample to folow, then the same of Cesar, whome havynge his armie on the banke of a river in Fraunce, and  his passage beynge letted of Vergintorige a Frenche man, the whiche on the other side of the river had his men, marched many daies a longe the river, and the like did the enemie: wherfore Cesar incamping in a woddie place, apte to hide men, he tooke out of every legion three cohortes, and made them to tarie in the same place, commaundynge theim that so soone as he was departed, they shoulde caste over a bridge, and should fortefie it, and he with his other menne folowed on the waye: wherfore Vergintorige seyng the number of the legions, thinkyng that there was not left anie parte of theim behinde, folowed also his way: but Cesar when he supposed that the bridge was made, tourned backewarde, and findynge all thinges in order, passed the river without difficultee.

ZANOBI. Have ye any rule to know the foordes?

How to know the Foordes of a river.

FABRICIO. Yea, we have: alwaies the river, in that parte, whiche is betwene the water, that is stilleste, and the water that runneth fastest, there is least depth and it is a place more meete to be looked on, then any other where. For that alwaies in thesame place, the river is moste shallowest. The whiche thyng, bicause it hath been proved many tymes, is moste true.

ZANOBI. If it chaunce that the River hath marde the Foorde, so that the horses sincke, what reamedy have you?

Howe to escape oute of a straight where the same is besette with enemies; Howe Lutius Minutius escaped out of a strayght wherin he was inclosed of his enemies; Howe some Capitaynes have suffered them selves to be compassed aboute of their enemies; A polecie of Marcus Antonius; A defence for the shotte of arrowes.

FABRICIO. The remedie is to make hardels of roddes whiche must be placed in the bottome of the river, and so to passe upon those: but let us folowe our reasonyng. If it happen that a capitain be led with his armie, betwen two hilles, and that he have not but twoo waies to save hymself, either that before, or that behinde, and those beyng beset of thenemies, he hath for remidie to doe the same, which some have doen heretofore: that which have made on their hinder parte a greate trenche, difficult to passe over, and semed to the enemie, to mynde to kepe him of, for to be able with al his power, without neding to feare behinde, to make force that waie, whiche before remaineth open. The whiche the enemies belevyng, have made theim selves stronge, towardes the open parte, and have forsaken the  inclosed and he then castyng a bridge of woode over the Trenche, for soche an effect prepared, bothe on thesame parte, with out any impedimente hath passed, and also delivered hymself out of the handes of the enemie. Lucius Minutus a Consul of Rome, was in Liguria with an armie, and was of the enemies inclosed, betwene certaine hilles, whereby he could not go out: therefore he sente certaine souldiours of Numidia on horsebacke, whiche he had in his armie (whom were evill armed, and upon little leane horses) towardes the places that were kepte of the enemies, whom at the first sight made the enemies, to order theim selves together, to defende the passage: but after that thei sawe those men ill apoincted, and accordyng to their facion evill horsed, regardyng theim little, enlarged the orders of their warde, wherof so sone as the Numidians wer a ware, givyng the spurres to their horses, and runnyng violently upon theim, passed before thei could provide any remedy, whom beyng passed, destroied and spoiled the countrie after soche sorte, that thei constrained the enemies, to leave the passage free to the armie of Lucius. Some capitaine, whiche hath perceived hymself to be assaulted of a greate multitude of enemies, hath drawen together his men, and hath given to the enemie commoditie, to compasse hym all about, and then on thesame part, whiche he hath perceived to be moste weake, hath made force, and by thesame waie, hath caused to make waie, and saved hymself.

Marcus Antonius retiryng before the armie of the Parthians, perceived how the enemies every daie before Sunne risyng, when he removed, assaulted him, and all the waie troubled hym: in so moch, that he determined not to departe the nexte daie, before None: so that the Parthians beleving, that he would not remove that daie, retourned to their tentes. Whereby Marcus Antonius might then all the reste of the daie, marche without any disquietnesse. This self same man for to avoide the arrowes of the Parthians, commaunded his men, that when the Parthians came towardes them, thei should knele, and that the second ranke of the battailes, should cover with their Targaettes,  the heddes of the firste, the thirde, the seconde, the fowerth the third, and so successively, that all the armie came, to be as it were under a pentehouse, and defended from the shotte of the enemies. This is as moche as is come into my remembraunce, to tell you, which maie happen unto an armie marchyng: therefore, if you remember not any thyng els, I will passe to an other parte.

THE SIXTHE BOOKE

ZANOBI. I beleve that it is good, seyng the reasonyng must be chaunged, that Baptiste take his office, and I to resigne myne, and wee shall come in this case, to imitate the good Capitaines (accordyng as I have nowe here understoode of the gentilman) who place the beste souldiours, before and behinde the armie, semyng unto theim necessarie to have before, soche as maie lustely beginne the faight, and soche as behinde maie lustely sustaine it. Now seyng Cosimus began this reasonyng prudently, Baptiste prudently shall ende it. As for Luigi and I, have in this middeste intertained it, and as every one of us hath taken his part willingly, so I beleve not, that Baptiste wil refuse it.

BAPTISTE. I have let my self been governed hetherto, so I minde to doe still. Therfore be contente sir, to folowe your reasonyng, and if we interrupte you with this practise of ours, have us excused.

How the Grekes incamped; Howe the Romaines incamped; The maner of the incamping of an armie; The lodging for the generall capitaine.

FABRICIO. You dooe me, as all readie I have saied, a moste greate pleasure; for this your interrupting me, taketh not awaie my fantasie, but rather refresheth me. But mindyng to followe our matter I saie, how that it is now tyme, that we lodge this our armie, for that you knowe every thyng desireth reste and saftie, bicause to reste, and not to reste safely, is no perfecte reste: I doubte moche, whether it hath not been desired of you, that I should firste  have lodged them, after made theim to marche, and laste of all to faight, and we have doen the contrary: whereunto necessitie hath brought us, for that intendyng to shewe, how an armie in going, is reduced from the forme of marching, to thesame maner of faightyng, it was necessarie to have firste shewed, how thei ordered it to faight. But tournyng to our matter, I saie, that minding to have the Campe sure, it is requisite that it be strong, and in good order: the industrie of the Capitaine, maketh it in order, the situacion, or the arte, maketh it stronge. The Grekes sought strong situacions, nor thei would never place theim selves, where had not been either cave, or bancke of a river, or multitude of trees, or other naturall fortificacion, that might defende theim: but the Romaines not so moche incamped safe through the situacion, as through arte, nor thei would never incampe in place, where thei should not have been able to have raunged all their bandes of menne, accordyng to their discipline. Hereby grewe, that the Romaines might kepe alwaies one forme of incamping, for that thei would, that the situacion should bee ruled by them, not thei by the situacion: the which the Grekes could not observe, for that beyng ruled by the situacion, and variyng the situacion and forme, it was conveniente, that also thei should varie the maner of incampyng, and the facion of their lodgynges. Therefore the Romaines, where the situacion lacked strength thei supplied thesame with arte, and with industrie. And for that I in this my declaracion, have willed to imitate the Romaines, I will not departe from the maner of their incamping, yet not observyng altogether their order, but takyng thesame parte, whiche semeth unto me, to be mete for this present tyme. I have told you many tymes, how the Romaines had in their consull armies, twoo Legions of Romaine men, whiche were aboute a leven thousande footemen, and sixe hundred horsemen, and moreover thei had an other leven thousande footemen, sente from their frendes in their aide: nor in their armie thei had never more souldiers that were straungers, then Romaines, excepte horsemenne, whom thei cared not,  though thei were more in nomber then theirs: and in all their doynges, thei did place their Legions in the middeste, and the aiders, on the sides: the whiche maner, thei observed also in incampyng, as by your self you maie rede, in those aucthoures, that write of their actes: and therefore I purpose not to shewe you distinctly how thei incamped, but to tell you onely with what order, I at this presente would incampe my armie, whereby you shall then knowe, what parte I have taken out of the Romaine maners. You knowe, that in stede of twoo Romaine Legions, I have taken twoo maine battailes of footemen, of sixe thousande footemen, and three hundred horsemen, profitable for a maine battaile, and into what battailes, into what weapons, into what names I have devided theim: you knowe howe in orderyng tharmie to marche, and to faight, I have not made mencion of other men, but onely have shewed, how that doublyng the men, thei neded not but to double the orders: but mindyng at this presente, to shew you the maner of incampyng, me thinketh good not to stande onely with twoo maine battailes, but to bryng together a juste armie, made like unto the Romaines, of twoo maine battailes, and of as many more aidyng men: the whiche I make, to the intent that the forme of the incampyng, maie be the more perfect, by lodgyng a perfecte armie: whiche thyng in the other demonstracions, hath not semed unto me so necessarie. Purposing then, to incampe a juste armie, of xxiiii. thousande footemen, and of twoo thousande good horsemenne, beeyng devided into fower maine battailes, twoo of our owne menne, and twoo of straungers, I would take this waie. The situacion beyng founde, where I would incampe, I would erecte the hed standarde, and aboute it, I would marke out a quadrant, whiche should have every side distante from it xxxvii. yardes and a half, of whiche every one of them should lye, towardes one of the fower regions of heaven, as Easte, Weste, Southe, and Northe: betwene the whiche space, I would that the capitaines lodgyng should be appoincted. And bicause I beleve that it is wisedom, to devide the armed from the unarmed, seyng that so, for the moste parte the  Romaines did, I would therefore seperate the menne, that were cumbered with any thing, from the uncombered. I would lodge all, or the greatest parte of the armed, on the side towardes the Easte, and the unarmed, and the cumbred, on the Weste side, makyng Easte the hedde, and Weste the backe of the Campe, and Southe, and Northe should be the flanckes: and for to distinguishe the lodgynges of the armed, I would take this waie. I would drawe a line from the hedde standarde, and lead it towardes the Easte, the space of CCCCC.x. yardes and a half: I would after, make two other lines, that should place in the middeste the same, and should bee as longe as that, but distante eche of theim from it a leven yardes and a quarter: in the ende whereof, I would have the Easte gate, and the space that is betwene the twoo uttermoste lines, should make a waie, that should go from the gate, to the capitaines lodging, whiche shall come to be xxii. yardes and a halfe broad, and CCCClxxii. yardes and a halfe longe, for the xxxvii. yardes and a halfe, the lodgyng of the Capitaine will take up: and this shall bee called the Capitaine waie. Then there shall be made an other waie, from the Southe gate, to the Northe gate, and shall passe by the hedde of the capitaine waie, and leave the Capitaines lodgyng towardes theaste, whiche waie shalbe ix.C.xxxvii. yardes and a halfe long (for the length therof wilbe as moche as the breadth of all the lodgynges) and shall likewise be xxii. yardes and a half broad, and shalbe called the crosse waie. Then so sone as the Capitaines lodgyng, were appoincted out, and these twoo waies, there shall bee begun to be appoincted out, the lodginges of our own two main battailes, one of the whiche, I would lodge on the right hand of the capitaines waie, and the other, on the lefte: and therefore passing over the space, that the breadth of the crosse waie taketh, I would place xxxii. lodgynges, on the lefte side of the capitain waie, and xxxii. on the right side, leavyng betwene the xvi. and the xvii. lodgyng, a space of xxii. yardes and a halfe, the whiche should serve for a waie overthwart, whiche should runne overthwarte, throughout all the lodgynges of the  maine battailes as in the distributyng of them shall bee seen.

The lodgings for the men of armes, and their Capitaine; Note, which is breadth and whiche length in the square campe; The lodgings for the lighte horsemen, and their capitain; The lodgings for the footemen of twoo ordinary main battailes; The lodgings for the conestables; The nomber of footemen appoincted to every lodging; The lodynges for the chiefe Capitaines of the maine battayles and for the treasurers, marshals and straungers; Lodginges for the horsemen, of the extraordinarie mayne battailes; The lodgynges for the extraordinarie Pykes and Veliti; How the Artillerie must be placed in the Campe; Lodgynges for the unarmed men, and the places that are apoineted for the impedimentes of the campe.

Of these twoo orders of lodgynges in the beginnyng of the head, whiche shall come to joygne to the crosse waye, I would lodge the Capitaine of the men of armes, in the xv. lodgynges, which on everie side foloweth next, their men of armes, where eche main battaile, havyng a CL. men of armes, it will come to ten men of armes for a lodgyng. The spaces of the Capitaines lodgynges, should be in bredth xxx. and in length vii. yardes and a halfe. And note that when so ever I sai bredeth, it signifieth the space of the middest from Southe to Northe, and saiyng length, that whiche is from weste to Easte. Those of the men of armes, shoulde be xi. yardes and a quarter in length, and xxii. yardes and a halfe in bredeth. In the other xv. lodgynges, that on everie syde should folowe, the whiche should have their beginnyng on the other side of the overthwarte way, and whiche shall have the very same space, that those of the men of armes had, I woulde lodge the light horsemen: wherof beynge a hundred and fiftie, it will come to x. horsemen for a lodgyng, and in the xvi. that remaineth, I woulde lodge their Capitaine, gevynge him the verie same space, that is geven to the Capitain of the men of armes: and thus the lodginges of the horsemen of two maine battailes, will come to place in the middest the Capitaine way, and geve rule to the lodginges of the footemen, as I shall declare. You have noted how I have lodged the CCC. horsemen of everie main battaile with their Capitaines, in xxxii. lodgynges placed on the Captaine waie, havynge begun from the crosse waie, and how from the xvi. to the xvii. there remaineth a space of xxii. yardes and a halfe, to make awaie overthwarte. Mindyng therefore to lodge the xx. battailes, which the twoo ordinarie maine battailes have, I woulde place the lodgyng of everie twoo battailes, behinde the lodgynges of the horsemen, everie one of whiche, should have in length xi. yardes and a quarter, and in bredeth xxii. yardes and a half as those of the horsemens, and shoulde bee joigned on the hinder parte, that thei shoulde touche the one the other.  And in every first lodgyng on everie side which cometh to lie on the crosse waie, I woulde lodge the Counstable of a battaile, whiche should come to stand even with the lodgyng of the Capitayne of the men of armes, and this lodgyng shall have onely of space for bredeth xv. yardes, and for length vii. yardes and a halfe. In the other xv. lodgynges, that on everie side followeth after these, even unto the overthwarte way, I would lodge on everie part a battaile of foote men, whiche beyng iiii. hundred and fiftie, there will come to a lodgyng xxx. The other xv. lodgynges, I woulde place continually on every side on those of the light horse men, with the verie same spaces, where I woulde lodge on everie part, an other battaile of fote men, and in the laste lodgyng, I would place on every parte the Conestable of the battaile, whiche will come to joigne with the same of the Capitaine of the lighte horsemen, with the space of vii. yardes and a halfe for length, and xv. for bredeth: and so these two firste orders of lodgynges, shal be halfe of horsemen, and halfe of footemen. And for that I woulde (as in the place therof I have tolde you) these horse menne shoulde be all profitable, and for this havynge no servauntes whiche in kepyng the horses, or in other necessarie thynges might helpe them, I woulde that these footemen, who lodge behynde the horse, should bee bounde to helpe to provide, and to keepe theim for their maisters: and for this to bee exempted from the other doynges of the Campe. The whiche maner, was observed of the Romanies. Then leavyng after these lodgynges on everie parte, a space of xxii. yardes and a halfe, whiche shoulde make awaye, that shoulde be called the one, the firste waye on the righte hande, and the other the firste waie on the lefte hand, I woulde pitche on everie side an other order of xxxii. double lodgynges, whiche should tourne their hinder partes the one againste the other with the verie same spaces, as those that I have tolde you of, and devided after the sixtenth in the verie same maner for to make the overthwarte waie, where I would lodge on every side iiii. battailes of footemen, with their constables in bothe endes. Then leavyng on every side an other space of xxii. yardes  and a halfe, that shoulde make a waie, whiche shoulde be called of the one side, the seconde waie on the right hande, and on the other syde, the seconde way on the lefte hande, I would place an other order on everie side of xxxii. double lodgynges, with the verie same distance and devisions, where I would lodge on everie side, other iiii. battailes with their Constables: and thus the horesemenne and the bandes of the twoo ordinarie maine battailes, should come to be lodged in three orders of lodgynges, on the one side of the capitaine waie, and in three other orders of lodgynges on the other side of the Capitaine waie. The twoo aidyng maine battels (for that I cause them to be made of the verie same nation) I woulde lodge them on everie parte of these twoo ordinarie maine battailes, with the very same orders of double lodgynges, pitchyng first one order of lodgynges, where should lodge halfe the horsemen, and half the foote men, distance xxii. yardes and a halfe from the other, for to make a way whiche should be called the one, the thirde waie on the right hande, and the other the thirde waie on the lefte hande. And after, I woulde make on everie side, twoo other orders of lodgynges, in the verie same maner destinguesshed and ordeined, as those were of the ordinarie maine battelles, which shall make twoo other wayes, and they all should be called of the numbre, and of the hande, where thei should be placed: in suche wyse, that all this side of the armie, shoulde come to be lodged in xii. orders of double lodgynges, and in xiii. waies, reckenynge captaine waie, and crosse waie: I would there should remayne a space from the lodgynges to the Trenche of lxxv. yardes rounde aboute: and if you recken al these spaces, you shall see that from the middest of the Capitaines lodgyng to the easte gate, there is Dx. yardes. Now there remaineth twoo spaces, whereof one is from the Capitaines lodgyng to the Southe gate, the other is from thense to the Northe gate: whiche come to be (either of them measurynge them from the poincte in the middest) CCCC.lxxvi. yardes. Then takyng out of everie one of these spaces xxxvii. yardes and a halfe, whiche the Capitaynes lodgynge occupieth, and xxxiiii. yardes everie  waie for a market place, and xxii. yardes and a halfe for way that devides everie one of the saied spaces in the middest, and lxxv. yardes, that is lefte on everie part betweene the lodgynges and the Trenche, there remaineth on every side a space for lodginges of CCC. yardes broade, and lxxv. yardes longe, measurynge the length with the space that the Captaines lodgynge taketh up. Devidynge then in the middest the saied lengthe, there woulde be made on every hande of the Capitaine xl. lodgynges xxxvii. yardes and a halfe longe, and xv. broade, whiche will come to be in all lxxx. lodgynges, wherin shall be lodged the heddes of the maine battailes, the Treasurers, the Marshalles of the fielde, and all those that shoulde have office in the armie, leavyng some voide for straungers that shoulde happen to come, and for those that shall serve for good will of the Capitaine. On the parte behinde the Capitaines lodgynge, I would have a way from Southe to Northe xxiii. yardes large, and shoulde be called the bed way, whiche shall come to be placed a longe by the lxxx. lodgynges aforesayd: for that this waie, and the crosseway, shall come to place in the middest betweene them bothe the Capitaines lodgynge, and the lxxx. lodgynges that be on the sides therof. From this bed waie, and from over agaynst the captaines lodgyng, I would make an other waie, which shoulde goe from thens to the weste gate, lykewyse broade xxii. yardes and a halfe, and should aunswer in situation and in length to the Captaine way, and should be called the market waie. These twoo waies beynge made, I woulde ordeine the market place, where the market shall bee kepte, whiche I woulde place on the head of the market way over against the capitaines lodgynge, and joigned to the head way, and I woulde have it to be quadrante, and woulde assigne lxxxx. yardes and three quarters to a square: and on the right hande and lefte hande, of the saied market place, I would make two orders of lodginges, where everie order shal have eight double lodginges, which shall take up in length, ix. yardes, and in bredeth xxii. yardes and a halfe, so that there shall come to be on every hande of the market place, xvi. lodgynges  that shall place the same in the middest which shall be in al xxxii. wherin I woulde lodge those horsemen, which shoulde remaine to the aidyng mayne battailes: and when these should not suffise, I woulde assigne theim some of those lodginges that placeth between them the Capitaines lodgynge, and in especially those, that lie towardes the Trenche. There resteth now to lodge the Pikes, and extraordinarie Veliti, that everie main battaile hath, which you know accordynge to our order, how everie one hath besides the x. battailes M. extraordinarie Pikes, and five hundreth Veliti: so that the twoo cheefe maine battailes, have two thousande extraordinarie Pikes, and a thousande extraordinarie Veliti, and the ayders as many as those, so that yet there remaineth to be lodged, vi. M. menne, whome I woulde lodge all on the weste side, and a longe the Trenche. Then from the ende of the hed waye, towardes Northe, leavyng the space of lxxv. yardes from them to the trenche, I woulde place an order of v. double lodgynges, whiche in all shoulde take up lvi. yardes in lengthe, and xxx. in bredeth: so that the bredeth devided, there will come to everie lodgyng xi. yardes and a quarter for lengthe, and for bredeth twoo and twentie yardes and a half. And because there shall be x. lodgynges, I will lodge three hundred men, apoinctyng to every lodging xxx. men: leavyng then a space of three and twentie yardes and a quarter, I woulde place in like wise, and with like spaces an other order of five double lodgynges, and againe an other, till there were five orders of five double lodgynges: which wil come to be fiftie lodgynges placed by right line on the Northe side, every one of them distante from the Trenche lxxv. yardes, which will lodge fifteene hundred men. Tournyng after on the lefte hande towardes the weste gate, I woulde pitche in all the same tracte, whiche were from them to the saied gate, five other orders of double lodgynges, with the verie same spaces, and with the verie same maner: true it is, that from the one order to the other, there shall not be more then a xi. yardes and a quarter of space: wherin shall be lodged also fifteene hundred men: and thus from the  Northe gate to the weste, as the Trenche turneth, in a hundred lodginges devided in x. rewes of five double lodgynges in a rowe, there will be lodged all the Pikes and extraordinarie Veliti of the cheefe maine battayles. And so from the west gate to the Southe, as the Trenche tourneth even in the verie same maner, in other ten rewes of ten lodgynges in a rewe, there shall be lodged the pikes, and extraordinarie Veliti of the aidyng mayne battailes. Their headdes or their counstables may take those lodgynges, that shal seeme unto them moste commodious, on the parte towardes the trenche. The Artillerie, I woulde dispose throughoute all the Campe, a longe the banke of the Trenche: and in all the other space that shoulde remaine towardes weste, I woulde lodge all the unarmed, and place all the impedimentes of the Campe. And it is to be understoode, that under this name of impedimentes (as you know) the antiquitee mente all the same trayne, and all those thynges, which are necessarie for an armie, besides the souldiours: as are Carpenters, Smithes, Masons, Ingeners, Bombardiers, althoughe that those might be counted in the numbre of the armed, herdemen with their herdes of motons and beeves whiche for victuallyng of the armie, are requiset: and moreover maisters of all sciences, together with publicke carriages of the publicke munition, whiche pertaine as well to victuallyng, as to armynge. Nor I would not distinguishe these lodginges perticularly, only I would marke out the waies which should not be occupied of them: then the other spaces, that betweene the waies shall remaine, whiche shall be fower, I woulde appoincte theim generally for all the saied impedimentes, that is one for the herdemen, the other for artificers and craftes men, the thirde for publicke carriages of victuals, the fowerth for the municion of armour and weapons. The waies whiche I woulde shoulde be lefte without ocupiyng them, shal be the market waie, the head waye, and more over a waie that shoulde be called the midde waye, whiche should goe from Northe to Southe, and should passe thoroughe the middest of the market waie, whiche from the weste parte, shoulde serve for the same purpose  that the overthwarte way doeth on the east parte. And besides this, a waye whiche shall goe aboute on the hinder parte, alonge the lodgynges of the Pikes and extraordinarie Veliti, and all these wayes shall be twoo and tweentie vardes and a halfe broade. And the Artilerie, I woulde place a longe the Trenche of the Campe, rounde aboute the same.

BAPTISTE. I confesse that I understand not, nor I beleeve that also to saye so, is any shame unto me, this beyng not my exercise: notwithstandyng, this order pleaseth me muche: onely I woulde that you shoulde declare me these doubtes: The one, whie you make the waie, and the spaces aboute so large. The other, that troubleth me more, is these spaces, whiche you apoincte oute for the lodgynges, howe they ought to be used.

The Campe ought to be all waies of one facion.

FABRICIO. You must note, that I make all the waies, xxii. yardes and a halfe broade, to the intente that thorowe them, maie go a battaile of men in araie, where if you remember wel, I tolde you how every bande of menne, taketh in breadth betwene xviii. and xxii. yardes of space to marche or stande in. Nowe where the space that is betwene the trenche, and the lodgynges, is lxxv. yardes broade, thesame is moste necessarie, to the intent thei maie there order the battailes, and the artillerie, bothe to conducte by thesame the praies, and to have space to retire theim selves with newe trenches, and newe fortificacion if neede were: The lodginges also, stande better so farre from the diches, beyng the more out of daunger of fires, and other thynges, whiche the enemie, might throwe to hurte them. Concernyng the seconde demaunde, my intent is not that every space, of me marked out, bee covered with a pavilion onely, but to be used, as tourneth commodious to soch as lodge there, either with more or with lesse Tentes, so that thei go not out of the boundes of thesame. And for to marke out these lodginges, there ought to bee moste cunnyng menne, and moste excellente Architectours, whom, so sone as the Capitaine hath chosen the place, maie knowe how to give it the facion, and to distribute it, distinguishyng the waies,  devidyng the lodgynges with Coardes and staves, in soche practised wise, that straight waie, thei maie bee ordained, and devided: and to minde that there growe no confusion, it is conveniente to tourne the Campe, alwaies one waie, to the intente that every manne maie knowe in what waie, in what space he hath to finde his lodgyng: and this ought to be observed in every tyme, in every place, and after soche maner, that it seme a movyng Citee, the whiche where so ever it goweth, carrieth with it the verie same waies, the verie same habitacions, and the verie same aspectes, that it had at the firste: The whiche thing thei cannot observe, whom sekyng strong situacions, must chaunge forme, accordyng to the variacion of the grounde: but the Romaines in the plaine, made stronge the place where thei incamped with trenches, and with Rampires, bicause thei made a space about the campe, and before thesame a ditche, ordinary broad fower yardes and a halfe, and depe aboute twoo yardes and a quarter, the which spaces, thei increased, according as thei intended to tarie in a place, and accordyng as thei feared the enemie. I for my parte at this presente, would not make the listes, if I intende not to Winter in a place: yet I would make the Trenche and the bancke no lesse, then the foresaied, but greater, accordyng to necessitie. Also, consideryng the artellerie, I would intrench upon every corner of the Campe, a halfe circle of ground, from whens the artillerie might flancke, whom so ever should seke to come over the Trenche. In this practise in knowyng how to ordain a campe, the souldiours ought also to be exercised, and to make with them the officers expert, that are appoincted to marke it out, and the Souldiours readie to knowe their places: nor nothyng therein is difficulte, as in the place thereof shall bee declared: wherefore, I will goe forewarde at this tyme to the warde of the campe, bicause without distribucion of the watche, all the other pain that hath been taken, should be vain.

BAPTISTE. Before you passe to the watche, I desire that you would declare unto me, when one would pitche his campe nere the enemie, what waie is used: for that I knowe  not, how a man maie have tyme, to be able to ordaine it without perill.

FABRICIO. You shall understande this, that no Capitaine will lye nere the enemie, except he, that is desposed to faight the fielde, when so ever his adversarie will: and when a capitaine is so disposed, there is no perill, but ordinarie: for that the twoo partes of the armie, stande alwaies in a redinesse, to faight the battaile, and thother maketh the lodginges. The Romaines in this case, gave this order of fortifiyng the Campe, unto the Triarii: and the Prencipi, and the Astati, stoode in armes. This thei did, for as moche as the Triarii, beyng the last to faight, might have time inough, if the enemie came, to leave the woorke, and to take their weapons, and to get them into their places. Therfore, accordyng unto the Romaines maner, you ought to cause the Campe to be made of those battailes, whiche you will set in the hinder parte of the armie, in the place of the Triarii. But let us tourne to reason of the watche.

Theantiquitie used no Scoutes; The watche and warde of the Campe.

I thinke I have not founde, emongest the antiquitie, that for to warde the campe in the night, thei have kepte watche without the Trenche, distaunte as thei use now a daies, whom thei call Scoutes: the whiche I beleve thei did, thinkyng that the armie might easely bee deceived, through the difficultie, that is in seeyng them againe, for that thei might bee either corrupted, or oppressed of the enemie: So that to truste either in parte, or altogether on them, thei judged it perillous. And therefore, all the strength of the watche, was with in the trenche, whiche thei did withall diligence kepe, and with moste greate order, punished with death, whom so ever observed not thesame order: the whiche how it was of them ordained, I will tell you no other wise, leaste I should bee tedious unto you, beyng able by your self to see it, if as yet you have not seen it: I shall onely briefly tell that, whiche shall make for my purpose, I wold cause to stand ordinarely every night, the thirde parte of the armie armed, and of thesame, the fowerth parte alwaies on foote, whom I would make to bee destributed,  throughout all the banckes, and throughout all the places of the armie, with double warde, placed in every quadrante of thesame: Of whiche, parte should stande still, parte continually should go from the one corner of the Campe, to the other: and this order, I would observe also in the daie, when I should have the enemie nere.

Dilligence ought to be used, to knowe who lieth oute of the Campe, and who they be that cometh of newe; Claudius Nero; The justice that ought to be in a campe. The fauts that the antiquitie punisshed with Death; Where greate punishementes be, there oughte likewise to bee great rewardes; It was no marvel that the Romaines became mightie Princes; A meane to punishe and execute Justice, without raising tumultes; Manlius Capitolinus; Souldiours sworen to kepe the discipline of warre.

Concernyng the givyng of the watche worde, and renuyng thesame every evening, and to doe the other thynges, whiche in like watches is used, bicause thei are thynges well inough knowen, I will speake no further of them: onely I shall remember one thyng, for that it is of greate importaunce, and whiche causeth great saulfgarde observyng it, and not observyng it, moche harme: The whiche is, that there be observed greate diligence, to knowe at night, who lodgeth not in the Campe, and who commeth a newe: and this is an easie thing to see who lodgeth, with thesame order that wee have appoincted: for as moche as every lodgyng havyng the determined nomber of menne, it is an easie matter to see, if thei lacke, or if there be more menne: and when thei come to be absente without lisence, to punishe them as Fugetives, and if there bee more, to understande what thei be, what they make there, and of their other condicions. This diligence maketh that the enemie cannot but with difficultie, practise with thy capitaines, and have knowlege of thy counsailes: which thing if of the Romaines, had not been diligently observed, Claudius Nero could not, havyng Aniball nere hym, depart from his Campe, whiche he had in Lucania, and to go and to retourne from Marca, without Aniball should have firste heard thereof some thyng. But it suffiseth not to make these orders good, excepte thei bee caused to bee observed, with a greate severtie: for that there is nothyng that would have more observacion, then is requisite in an armie: therefore the lawes for the maintenaunce of thesame, ought to be sharpe and harde, and the executour therof moste harde. The Romaines punished with death him that lacked in the watch, he that forsoke the place that was given hym to faight in, he that caried any thynge, hidde out of the  Campe, if any manne should saie, that he had doen some worthy thing in the faight, and had not doen it, if any had fought without the commaundemente of the Capitaine, if any had for feare, caste awaie his weapons: and when it happened, that a Cohorte, or a whole Legion, had committed like fault, bicause thei would not put to death all, thei yet tooke al their names, and did put them in a bagge, and then by lotte, thei drue oute the tenthe parte, and so those were put to death: the whiche punishemente, was in soche wise made, that though every man did not feele it every man notwithstandyng feared it: and bicause where be greate punishementes, there ought to be also rewardes, mindyng to have menne at one instant, to feare and to hope, thei had appoincted rewardes to every worthie acte: as he that faighting, saved the life of one of his Citezeins, to hym that firste leapte upon the walle of the enemies Toune, to hym that entered firste into the Campe of the enemies, to hym that had in faightyng hurte, or slaine the enemie, he that had stroken him from his horse: and so every vertuous act, was of the Consulles knowen and rewarded, and openly of every manne praised: and soche as obtained giftes, for any of these thynges, besides the glorie and fame, whiche thei got emongest the souldiours, after when thei returned into their countrie, with solemne pompe, and with greate demonstracion emong their frendes and kinsfolkes, thei shewed them. Therefore it was no marveile, though thesame people gotte so moche dominion, having so moche observacion in punishemente, and rewarde towardes theim, whom either for their well doyng, or for their ill doyng, should deserve either praise or blame: Of whiche thynges it were convenient, to observe the greater parte. Nor I thinke not good to kepe secrete, one maner of punishmente of theim observed, whiche was, that so sone as the offendour, was before the Tribune, or Consulle convicted, he was of the same lightely stroken with a rodde: after the whiche strikyng, it was lawfull for the offendour to flie, and to all the Souldiours to kill hym: so that straight waie, every man threwe at hym either stones, or dartes, or with  other weapons, stroke hym in soche wise, that he went but little waie a live, and moste fewe escaped, and to those that so escaped, it was not lawfull for them to retourne home, but with so many incommodities, and soche greate shame and ignomie, that it should have ben moche better for him to have died. This maner is seen to be almoste observed of the Suizzers, who make the condempned to be put to death openly, of thother souldiours, the whiche is well considered, and excellently dooen: for that intendyng, that one be not a defendour of an evill doer, the greateste reamedie that is founde, is to make hym punisher of thesame: bicause otherwise, with other respecte he favoureth hym: where when he hymself is made execucioner, with other desire, he desireth his punishemente, then when the execucion commeth to an other. Therefore mindyng, not to have one favored in his faulte of the people, a greate remedie it is, to make that the people, maie have hym to judge. For the greater proofe of this, thinsample of Manlius Capitolinus might be brought, who being accused of the Scenate, was defended of the people, so longe as thei were not Judge, but becommyng arbitratours in his cause, thei condempned hym to death. This is then a waie to punishe, without raisyng tumultes, and to make justise to be kepte: and for as moche as to bridell armed menne, neither the feare of the Lawes, nor of menne suffise not, the antiquitie joined thereunto the aucthoritie of God: and therefore with moste greate Ceremonies, thei made their souldiours to sweare, to kepe the discipline of warre, so that doyng contrariewise, thei should not onely have to feare the Lawes, and menne, but God: and thei used all diligence, to fill them with Religion.

Women and idell games, were not suffered by the antiquitie, to bee in their armies.

BAPTISTE. Did the Romaines permitte, that women might bee in their armies, or that there might be used these idell plaies, whiche thei use now a daies.

FABRICIO. Thei prohibited the one and thother, and this prohibicion was not moche difficulte: For that there were so many exercises, in the whiche thei kept every daie the souldiours, some whiles particularely, somewhiles generally  occupied that thei had no time to thinke, either on Venus, or on plaies, nor on any other thyng, whiche sedicious and unproffitable souldiours doe.

BAPTISTE. I am herein satisfied, but tell me, when the armie had to remove, what order kepte thei?

Ordre in the removing the armie by the soundes of a Trumpet.

FABRICIO. The chief Trumpet sounded three tymes, at the firste sound, thei toke up the Tentes, and made the packes, at the seconde, thei laded the carriage, at the thirde, thei removed in thesame maner aforsaied, with the impedimentes after every parte of armed men, placyng the Legions in the middeste: and therefore you ought to cause after thesame sorte, an extraordinarie maine battaile to remove: and after that, the particulare impedimentes therof, and with those, the fowerth part of the publike impedimentes, which should bee all those, that were lodged in one of those partes, whiche a little afore we declared: and therfore it is conveniente, to have every one of them, appointed to a maine battaile, to the entente that the armie removyng, every one might knowe his place in marchyng: and thus every maine battaile ought to goe awaie, with their owne impedimentes, and with the fowerth parte of the publike impedimentes, followyng after in soche maner, as wee shewed that the Romaines marched.

BAPTISTE. In pitchyng the Campe, had thei other respectes, then those you have tolde?

Respectes to be had for incampyng; How to choose a place to incampe; How to avoide diseases from the armie; The wonderfull commoditie of exercise; The provision of victualles that ought alwaies to bee in a readinesse in an armie.

FABRICIO. I tell you again, that the Romaines when thei encamped, would be able to kepe the accustomed fashion of their maner, the whiche to observe, thei had no other respecte: but concernyng for other consideracions, thei had twoo principall, the one, to incampe theim selves in a wholesome place, the other, to place themselves, where thenemie could not besiege theim, nor take from them the waie to the water, or victualles. Then for to avoide infirmitie, thei did flie from places Fennie, or subjecte to hurtfull windes: whiche thei knewe not so well, by the qualitie of the situacion, as by the face of the inhabitours: for when thei sawe theim evill coloured, or swollen, or full of other infeccion, thei would not lodge there: concernyng thother respecte  to provide not to be besieged, it is requisite to consider the nature of the place, where the friendes lye, and thenemies, and of this to make a conjecture, if thou maiest be besieged or no: and therefore it is meete, that the Capitaine be moste experte, in the knowlege of situacions of countries, and have aboute him divers men, that have the verie same expertenes. Thei avoide also diseases, and famishment, with causyng the armie to kepe no misrule, for that to purpose to maintain it in health, it is nedefull to provide, that the souldiours maie slepe under tentes, that thei maie lodge where bee Trees, that make shadowe, where woodde is for to dresse their meate, that thei go not in the heate, and therefore thei muste bee drawen out of the campe, before daie in Summer, and in Winter, to take hede that thei marche not in the Snowe, and in the Froste, without havyng comoditie to make fire, and not to lack necessarie aparel, nor to drink naughtie water: those that fall sicke by chaunce, make them to bee cured of Phisicions: bicause a capitain hath no reamedie, when he hath to faight with sicknesse, and with an enemie: but nothing is so profitable, to maintaine the armie in health, as is the exercise: and therfore the antiquitie every daie, made them to exercise: wherby is seen how muche exercise availeth: for that in the Campe, it kepeth thee in health, and in the faight victorious. Concernyng famishemente, it is necessarie to see, that the enemie hinder thee not of thy victualles, but to provide where thou maieste have it, and to see that thesame whiche thou haste, bee not loste: and therefore it is requisite, that thou have alwaies in provision with the armie, sufficiente victuall for a monethe, and then removyng into some strong place, thou muste take order with thy nexte frendes, that daily thei maie provide for thee, and above al thinges bestowe the victual with diligence, givyng every daie to every manne, a reasonable measure, and observe after soche sorte this poincte, that it disorder thee not: bicause all other thyng in the warre, maie with tyme be overcome, this onely with tyme overcometh thee: nor there shall never any enemie of thyne, who maie overcome thee  with famishemente, that will seeke to overcome thee with iron. For that though the victory be not so honourable, yet it is more sure and more certaine: Then, thesame armie cannot avoide famishemente, that is not an observer of justice, whiche licenciously consumeth what it liste: bicause the one disorder, maketh that the victualls commeth not unto you, the other, that soche victuall as commeth, is unprofitably consumed: therefore thantiquitie ordained, that thei should spende thesame, whiche thei gave, and in thesame tyme when thei appoincted: for that no souldiour did eate, but when the Capitaine did eate: The whiche how moche it is observed of the armies nowe adaies, every manne knoweth, and worthely thei can not bee called menne of good order and sober, as the antiquitie, but lasivious and drunkardes.

BAPTISTE. You saied in the beginnyng of orderynge the Campe, that you woulde not stande onely uppon twoo maine battailes, but woulde take fower, for to shewe how a juste armie incamped: therfore I would you shoulde tell me twoo thynges, the one, when I shoulde have more or lesse men, howe I ought to incampe them, the other, what numbre of souldiours should suffice you to faight against what so ever enemie that were.

Howe to lodge in the Campe more or lesse menne, then the ordinarie; The nombre of men that an army ought to be made of, to bee able to faighte with the puisantest enemie that is; Howe to cause men to do soche a thing as shold bee profitable for thee, and hurtfull to them selves; Howe to overcome menne at unwares; How to tourne to commoditie the doynges of soche, as use to advertise thy enemie of thy proceadynges; How to order the campe, that the enemie shal not perceive whether the same bee deminished, or increased; A saiyng of Metellus; Marcus Crassus; How to understand the secretes of thy enemie; A policie of Marius, to understande howe he might truste the Frenchmen; What some Capitaines have doen when their countrie have been invaded of enemies; To make the enemie necligente in his doynges; Silla Asdruball; The policie of Aniball, where by he escaped out of the danger of Fabius Maximus; A Capitayne muste devise how to devide the force of his enemies; How to cause the enemie to have in suspect his most trusty men; Aniball Coriolanus; Metellus against Jugurte; A practis of the Romayne oratours, to bryng Aniball out of Credit with Antiochus; Howe to cause the enemie to devide his power; Howe Titus Didius staied his enemies that wer going to incounter a legion of men that were commyng in his ayde; Howe some have caused the enemie to devide his force; A policie to winne the enemies countrie before he be aware; Howe to reforme sedicion and discorde; The benefitte that the reputacion of the Capitaine causeth, which is only gotten by vertue; The chiefe thyng that a capitayne ought to doe; When paie wanteth, punishment is not to be executed; The inconvenience of not punisshynge; Cesar chaunsynge to fall, made the same to be supposed to signifi good lucke; Religion taketh away fantasticall opinions; In what cases a Capitaine ought not to faight with his enemie if he may otherwyse choose; A policie of Fulvius wherby he got and spoyled his enemies Campe; A policie to disorder the enemie; A policie to overcome the enemie; A policie; How to beguile the enemie; Howe Mennonus trained his enemies oute of stronge places to bee the better able to overcom them.

FABRICIO. To the first question I answer you, that if the armie be more or lesse, then fower or sixe thousande souldiours, the orders of lodgynges, may bee taken awaie or joined, so many as suffiseth: and with this way a man may goe in more, and in lesse, into infinite: Notwithstandynge the Romaines, when thei joigned together twoo consull armies, thei made twoo campes, and thei tourned the partes of the unarmed, thone against thother. Concernyng the second question, I say unto you, that the Romaines ordinary armie, was about xxiiii. M. souldiours: but when thei were driven to faight against the greatest power that might be, the moste that thei put together, wer L. M. With this number, thei did set against two hundred thousand Frenchemen, whome assaulted them after the first warre, that thei had with the Carthageners. With this verie same numbre, thei fought againste Anniball. And you muste note, that  the Romaines, and the Grekes, have made warre with fewe, fortefiyng themselves thorough order, and thorough arte: the west, and the easte, have made it with multitude: But the one of these nacions, doeth serve with naturall furie: as doe the men of the west partes, the other through the great obedience whiche those men have to their kyng. But in Grece, and in Italy, beyng no naturall furie, nor the naturall reverence towardes their king, it hath been necessary for them to learne the discipline of warre, the whiche is of so muche force, that it hath made that a fewe, hath been able to overcome the furie, and the naturall obstinatenesse of manie. Therefore I saie, that mindyng to imitate the Romaines, and the Grekes, the number of L. M. souldiers ought not to bee passed, but rather to take lesse: because manie make confucion, nor suffer not the discipline to be observed, and the orders learned, and Pirrus used to saie, that with xv. thousande men he woulde assaile the worlde: but let us pas to an other parte. We have made this our armie to winne a field and shewed the travailes, that in the same fight may happen: we have made it to marche, and declared of what impedimentes in marchyng it may be disturbed: and finally we have lodged it: where not only it ought to take a littell reste of the labours passed, but also to thinke howe the warre ought to be ended: for that in the lodgynges, is handeled many thynges, inespecially thy enemies as yet remainyng in the fielde, and in suspected townes, of whome it is good to be assured, and those that be enemies to overcome them: therfore it is necessarie to come to this demonstracion, and to passe this difficultie with the same glorie, as hitherto we have warred. Therfore comynge to particular matters, I saie that if it shoulde happen, that thou wouldest have manie men, or many people to dooe a thyng, whiche were to thee profittable, and to theim greate hurte, as should be to breake downe the wall of their citie, or to sende into exile many of them, it is necessarie for thee, either to beguile them in such wise that everie one beleeve not that it toucheth him: so that succouryng not the one the other, thei may finde them selves al to  be oppressed without remedie, or els unto all to commaunde the same, whiche they ought to dooe in one selfe daie, to the intente that every man belevyng to be alone, to whome the commaundement is made, maie thinke to obey and not to remedie it: and so withoute tumulte thy commaundement to be of everie man executed. If thou shouldest suspecte the fidelitie of anie people, and woulde assure thee, and overcome them at unawares, for to colour thy intente more easelie, thou canst not doe better, then to counsel with them of some purpose of thine, desiryng their aide, and to seeme to intende to make an other enterprise, and to have thy minde farre from thinkyng on them: the whiche will make, that thei shall not think on their owne defence, beleevyng not that thou purposest to hurte them, and thei shal geve thee commoditie, to be able easely to satisfie thy desire. When thou shouldest perceive, that there were in thine armie some, that used to advertise thy enemie of thy devises, thou canst not doe better, myndynge to take commoditie by their traiterous mindes, then to commen with them of those thynges, that thou wilte not doe, and those that thou wilt doe, to kepe secret, and to say to doubte of thynges, that thou doubtest not, and those of whiche thou doubtest, to hide: the which shall make thenemie to take some enterprise in hand, beleving to know thy devises, where by easly thou maiest beguile and opresse hym. If thou shouldest intende (as Claudius Nero did) to deminishe thy armie, sendynge helpe to some freende, and that the enemie shoulde not bee aware therof, it is necessarie not to deminishe the lodgynges, but to maintayne the signes, and the orders whole, makyng the verie same fires, and the verye same wardes throughout all the campe, as wer wont to be afore. Lykewise if with thy armie there should joigne new men, and wouldest that the enemie shoulde not know that thou werte ingrosed, it is necessarie not to increase the lodgynges: Because keepyng secrete doynges and devises, hath alwaies been moste profitable. Wherfore Metellus beyng with an armie in Hispayne, to one, who asked him what he would doe the nexte daie, answered, that if his sherte knew therof, he  would bourne it. Marcus Craussus, unto one, whome asked him, when the armie shoulde remove, saied beleevest thou to be alone not to here the trumpet? If thou shouldest desire to understande the secretes of thy enemie, and to know his orders, some have used to sende embassadours, and with theim in servauntes aparel, moste expertest men in warre: whom havynge taken occasion to se the enemies armie, and to consider his strengthe and weakenesse, it hath geven them oportunitie to overcome him. Some have sente into exile one of their familiars, and by meanes of the same, hath knowen the devises of his adversarie. Also like secrettes are understoode of the enemies when for this effecte there were taken any prisoners. Marius whiche in the warre that he made with the Cimbrie, for to know the faieth of those Frenchmen, who then inhabited Lombardie, and were in leage with the Romaine people, sent them letters open, and sealed: and in the open he wrote, that they shoulde not open the sealed, but at a certaine time, and before the same time demaundyng them againe, and finding them opened, knew thereby that their faithe was not to be trusted. Some Capitaines, being invaded, have not desired to goe to meete the enemie, but have gone to assaulte his countrey, and constrained him to retorne to defende his owne home: The whiche manie times hath come wel to passe, for that those soldiours beginnyng to fil them selves with booties, and confidence to overcome, shall sone make the enemies souldiours to wexe afraide, when they supposynge theim selves conquerours, shal understand to become losers: So that to him that hath made this diversion, manie times it hath proved well. But onely it may be doen by him, whiche hath his countrey stronger then that of the enemies, because when it were otherwise, he should goe to leese. It hath been often a profitable thyng to a capitaine, that hath been besieged in his lodgynges by the enemie, to move an intreatie of agreemente, and to make truse with him for certaine daies: the which is wonte to make the enemies more necligente in all doynges: so that avaylynge thee of their necligence, thou maiest easely have occacion to get thee oute of  handes. By this way Silla delivered him selfe twise from the enemies: and with this verie same deceipte, Asdruball in Hispayne got oute of the force of Claudious Nero, whome had besieged him. It helpeth also to deliver a man out of the daunger of the enemie, to do some thyng beside the forsaied, that may keepe him at a baye: this is dooen in two maners, either to assaulte him with parte of thy power, so that he beyng attentive to the same faight, may geve commoditie to the reste of thy men to bee able to save theim selves, or to cause to rise some newe accidente, which for the strayngenesse of the thynge, maie make him to marvell, and for this occasion to stande doubtefull, and still: as you knowe howe Anniball dyd, who beynge inclosed of Fabius Maximus, tied in the nighte small Bavens kindeled beetweene the hornes of manie Oxen, so that Fabius astonied at the strangenesse of the same sight, thought not to lette him at all the passage. A Capitayne oughte amonge all other of his affaires, with al subtiltie to devise to devide the force of the enemie, either with makyng him to suspecte his owne menne, in whome he trusteth, or to give him occasion, that he maye seperate his menne, and therby to be come more weake. The fyrste way is dooen with keepyng saulfe the thynges of some of those whiche he hath aboute him, as to save in the warre their menne and their possessions, renderynge theim their children, or other their necessaries withoute raunsome. You know that Anniball havynge burned all the fieldes aboute Rome, he made onely to bee reserved saulfe those of Fabius Maximus. You know how Coriolanus comyng with an armie to Rome, preserved the possessions of the nobilitie, and those of the comminaltie he bourned, and sacked. Metellus havinge an armie againste Jugurte, all the oratours, whiche of Jugurte were sente him, were required of him, that they woulde geve him Jugurte prisoner, and after to the verie same men writyng letters of the verie same matter, wrought in suche wise, that in shorte tyme Jugurte havyng in suspecte all his counsellours, in diverse maners put them to death. Anniball beynge fled to Antiochus, the Romaine oratours practised  with him so familiarly, that Antiochus beyng in suspecte of him, trusted not anie more after to his counselles. Concernyng to devide the enemies men, there is no more certainer waie, then to cause their countrie to be assaulted to the intente that being constrained to goe to defende the same, they maie forsake the warre. This way Fabius used havynge agaynst his armie the power of the Frenchemen, of the Tuscans, Umbries and Sannites. Titus Didius havyng a few men in respecte to those of the enemies, and lookynge for a legion from Rome, and the enemies purposinge to goe to incounter it, to the intente that they should not goe caused to bee noised through all his armie, that he intended the nexte daie to faighte the field with the enemies: after he used means, that certaine of the prisoners, that he had taken afore, had occasion to runne awaie. Who declaryng the order that the Consull had taken to faighte the nexte daie, by reason wherof the enemies beyng afraide to deminishe their owne strength, went not to incounter the same legion, and by this way thei wer conducted safe. The which means serveth not to devide the force of the enemies, but to augmente a mans owne. Some have used to devide the enemies force, by lettyng him to enter into their countrie, and in profe have let him take manie townes, to the intente that puttynge in the same garrisons, he might thereby deminishe his power, and by this waie havynge made him weake, have assaulted and overcomen him. Some other mindyng to goe into one province, have made as though they woulde have invaded an other, and used so much diligence, that sodenly entryng into the same, where it was not doubted that they woulde enter, they have first wonne it, before the ennemie coulde have time to succour it: for that thy enemie beynge not sure, whether thou purposest to tourne backe, to the place fyrste of thee threatned, is constrained not to forsake the one place, to succour the other, and so many times he defendeth neither the one nor the other. It importeth besides the sayde thynges to a Capitaine, if there growe sedicion or discorde amonge the souldiours, to knowe with arte howe to extynguishe it: The  beste waie is to chastise the headdes of the faultes, but it muste be doen in such wise, that thou maiest first have oppressed them, before they be able to be aware: The way is if they be distante from thee, not onely to call the offenders, but together with theim all the other, to the entente that not beleevynge, that it is for any cause to punishe them, they become not contumelius, but geve commoditie to the execution of the punishemente: when thei be present, thou oughtest to make thy selfe stronge with those that be not in faulte, and by meane of their helpe to punishe the other. When there hapneth discorde amonge them, the beste waye is, to bryng them to the perill, the feare whereof is wonte alwaies to make them agree. But that, which above all other thynge kepeth the armie in unitee, is the reputacion of the Capitaine, the whiche onely groweth of his vertue: because neither bloud, nor authoritie gave it ever without vertue. And the chiefe thyng, whiche of a Capitain is looked for to be doen, is, to keepe his souldiours punisshed, and paied: for that when so ever the paie lacketh, it is conveniente that the punisshement lacke: because thou canst not correcte a souldiour, that robbeth, if thou doest not paie him, nor the same mindynge to live, cannot abstaine from robbynge: but if thou paiest him and punisshest him not, he beecometh in everie condicion insolente: For that thou becomest of small estimacion, where thou chaunsest not to bee able to maintaine the dignitie of thy degree, and not mainetainyng it, there foloweth of necessitee tumulte, and discorde, whiche is the ruine of an armie. Olde Capitaines had a troubell, of the which the presente be almoste free, whiche was to interprete to their purpose the sinister auguries: because if there fell a thunderbolte in an armie, if the sunne were darkened or the Moone, if there came an erthequake, if the Capitaine either in gettyng up, or in lightynge of his horse fell, it was of the souldiours interpreted sinisterously: And it ingendred in them so moche feare, that comynge to faight the fielde, easely they should have lost it: and therefore the aunciente Capitaines so sone as a lyke accidente grewe, either they  shewed the cause of the same, and redused it to a naturall cause, or they interpreted it to their purpose. Cesar fallyng in Africa, in comyng of the sea saied, Africa I have taken thee. Moreover manie have declared the cause of the obscuryng of the Moone, and of earthquakes: which thing in our time cannot happen, as well because our men be not so supersticious, as also for that our religion taketh away altogether such opinions: al be it when they should chaunse, the orders of the antiquitie ought to be imitated. When either famishement, or other naturall necessitie, or humaine passion, hath broughte thy enemie to an utter desperation, and he driven of the same, cometh to faight with thee, thou oughtest to stande within thy campe, and as muche as lieth in thy power, to flie the faight. So the Lacedemonians did against the Masonians, so Cesar did against Afranio, and Petreio. Fulvius beyng Consul, against the Cimbrians, made his horsemen manie daies continually to assaulte the enemies, and considered how thei issued out of their campe for to folow them: wherfore he sette an ambusshe behinde the Campe of the Cimbrians, and made them to be assaulted of his horsmen, and the Cimbrians issuyng oute of their campe for to follow them. Fulvio gotte it, and sacked it. It hath ben of great utilitie to a Capitaine, havyng his armie nere to the enemies armie, to sende his menne with the enemies ansignes to robbe, and to burne his owne countrey, whereby the enemies beleevynge those to bee menne, whiche are come in their aide, have also runne to helpe to make them the pray: and for this disorderyng them selves, hathe therby given oportunitie to the adversary to overcome them. This waie Alexander of Epirus used againste the Illirans and Leptenus of Siracusa against the Carthaginers and bothe to the one and to the other, the devise came to passe most happely. Manie have overcome the enemie, gevyng him occasion to eate and to drinke oute of measure, fayning to have feared, and leaving their Campes full of wyne and herdes of cattell, wherof the enemie beyng filled above all naturall use, have then assaulted him, and with his destruction overthrowen him. So Tamirus did against  Cirus, and Tiberius Graccus agaynst the Spaniardes. Some have poysoned the wine, and other thynges to feede on, for to be able more easely to overcome them. I saied a littel afore how I founde not, that the antiquetie kepte in the night Scoutes abroade, and supposed that they did it for to avoide the hurte, whiche might growe therby: because it is founde, that through no other meane then throughe the watche man, whiche was set in the daie to watche the enemie, hath been cause of the ruin of him, that set him there: for that manie times it hath hapned, that he beyng taken, hath been made perforce to tell theim the token, whereby they might call his felowes, who commyng to the token, have been slaine or taken. It helpeth to beguile the enemie sometime to varie a custome of thine, whereupon he having grounded him self, remaineth ruinated: as a Capitaine did once, whome usinge to cause to be made signes to his men for comynge of the enemies in the night with fire, and in the daie with smoke, commaunded that withoute anie intermission, they shoulde make smoke and fire, and after commynge upon them the enemie, they should reste, whome beleevyng to come without beynge seen, perceivyng no signe to be made of beyng discovered, caused (through goeyng disordered) more easie the victorie to his adversarie. Mennonus a Rodian mindynge to drawe from stronge places the enemies armie, sente one under colour of a fugitive, the whiche affirmed, howe his armie was in discorde, and that the greater parte of them wente awaie: and for to make the thynge to be credited, he caused to make in sporte, certaine tumultes amonge the lodgynges: whereby the enemie thvnkyng thereby to be able to discomfaighte them, assaultynge theim, were overthrowen.

The enemie ought not to be brought into extreme desperacion; How Lucullus constrained certaine men that ran awaie from him to his enemies, to fayght whether they wold or not.

Besides thesaied thynges, regarde ought to be had not to brynge the enemie into extreme desperacion: whereunto Cesar had regarde, faightyng with the Duchemen, who opened them the waie, seyng, howe thei beyng not able to flie, necessitie made them strong, and would rather take paine to followe theim, when thei fled, then the perill to overcome them, when thei defended them selves.  Lucullus seyng, how certaine Macedonian horsemenne, whiche were with hym, went to the enemies parte, straight waie made to sounde to battaile, and commaunded, that the other men should folowe hym: whereby the enemies beleving, that Lucullus would begin the faight, went to incounter the same Macedonians, with soche violence, that thei were constrained to defende themselves: and so thei became against their willes, of fugetives, faighters. It importeth also to knowe, how to be assured of a toune, when thou doubteste of the fidelitie thereof, so sone as thou haste wonne the fielde, or before, the whiche certain old insamples maie teache thee.

A policie wher by Pompey got a towne; How Publius Valerius assured him self of a towne; A policie that Alexander Magnus used to be assured of all Tracia, which Philip kynge of Spaine did practise to be asured of England when he wente to sainct Quintens; Examples for Capitaines to winne the hartes of the people.

Pompei doubtyng of the Catinensians, praied them that thei would bee contente, to receive certaine sicke menne, that he had in his armie, and sendyng under the habite of sicke persones, most lustie menne, gotte the toune. Publius Valerius, fearyng the fidelitie of the Epidannians, caused to come, as who saieth, a Pardon to a churche without the toune, and when al the people wer gone for Pardon, he shutte the gates, receivyng after none in, but those whom he trusted. Alexander Magnus, mindyng to goe into Asia, and to assure himself of Thracia, toke with him all the principall of thesame Province, givyng theim provision, and he set over the common people of Thracia, men of lowe degree, and so he made the Princes contented with paiyng theim, and the people quiete, havyng no heddes that should disquiete them: But emong all the thynges, with the whiche the Capitaines, winne the hartes of the people, be the insamples of chastitie and justice, as was thesame of Scipio in Spaine, when he rendered that yong woman, moste faire of personage to her father, and to her housebande: the whiche made him more, then with force of armes to winne Spain.

Cesar having caused that woodde to bee paied for, whiche he had occupied for to make the Listes, about his armie in Fraunce, got so moche a name of justice, that he made easier the conquest of thesame province. I cannot tell what remaineth me, to speake more upon these accidentes, for that concerning this matter, there is not lefte any parte,  that hath not been of us disputed. Onely there lacketh to tell, of the maner of winnyng, and defendyng a toune: the whiche I am readie to doe willingly, if you be not now wearie.

BAPTISTE. Your humanitie is so moche, that it maketh us to followe our desires, without beyng afraied to be reputed presumptuous, seyng that you liberally offer thesame, whiche we should have been ashamed, to have asked you: Therefore, we saie unto you onely this, that to us you cannot dooe a greater, nor a more gratefuller benefite, then to finishe this reasonyng. But before that you passe to that other matter, declare us a doubte, whether it bee better to continewe the warre, as well in the Winter, as thei use now adaies, or to make it onely in the Sommer, and to goe home in the Winter, as the antiquitie did.

Warre ought not to be made in winter; Rough situacions, colde and watrie times, are enemies to the oder of warre; An overthrowe caused by winter.

FABRICIO. See, that if the prudence of the demaunder were not, there had remained behinde a speciall part, that deserveth consideracion. I answere you againe, that the antiquitie did all thynges better, and with more prudence then wee: and if wee in other things commit some erroure, in the affaires of warre, wee commit all errour. There is nothing more undiscrete, or more perrillous to a Capitayne, then to make warre in the Winter, and muche more perrill beareth he, that maketh it, then he that abideth it: the reason is this. All the industrie that is used in the discipline of warre, is used for to bee prepared to fighte a fielde with thy enemie, because this is the ende, whereunto a Capitayne oughte to goo or endevour him selfe: For that the foughten field, geveth thee the warre wonne or loste: then he that knoweth best how to order it, and he that hath his army beste instructed, hath moste advauntage in this, and maye beste hope to overcome. On the other side, there is nothing more enemie to the orders, and then the rough situacions, or the colde watery time: for that the rough situacions, suffereth thee not to deffende thy bandes, according to thee discipline: the coulde and watery times, suffereth thee not to keepe thy men together, nor thou canst not bring them in good order to the enemy: but it is convenient for thee to lodge them a sunder of necessitie, and  without order, being constrayned to obeye to Castells, to Boroughes, and to the Villages, that maye receyve thee, in maner that all thy laboure of thee, used to instructe the army is vaine. Nor marvayle you not though now a daies, they warre in the Winter, because the armies being without discipline, know not the hurt that it dooth them, in lodging not together, for that it is no griefe to them not to be able to keepe those orders, and to observe that discipline, which they have not: yet they oughte to see howe much harme, the Camping in the Winter hath caused, and to remember, how the Frenchmen in the yeare of oure Lorde God, a thousande five hundred and three, were broken at Gariliano of the Winter, and not of the Spaniardes: For as much as I have saide, he that assaulteth, hath more disadvauntage then he that defendeth: because the fowle weather hurteth him not a littell, being in the dominion of others and minding to make warre. For that he is constrayned, either to stande together with his men, and to sustaine the incommoditie of water and colde, or to avoide it to devide his power: But he that defendeth, may chuse the place as he listeth, and tary him with his freshe men: and he in a sodayne may set his men in araye, and goo to find a band of the enemies men, who cannot resiste the violence of them. So the Frenchemen were discomfited, and so they shall alwayes be discomfited, which will assaulte in the Winter an enemye, whoo hath in him prudence. Then he that will that force, that orders, that discipline and vertue, in anye condition availe him not, let him make warre in the fielde in the winter: and because that the Romaines woulde that all these thinges, in which they bestowed so much diligence, should availe them, fleedde no otherwise the Winter, then the highe Alpes, and difficulte places, and whatsoever other thing shoulde let them, for being able to shewe their arte and their vertue. So this suffiseth to your demaund, wherefore we wil come to intreate of the defending and besieging of tounes, and of their situacions and edifications.

THE SEVENTH BOOKE

Tounes and Fortresses maie be strong twoo waies; The place that now a daies is moste sought to fortifie in; How a Toune walle ought to bee made; The walle of a toune ought to bee high, and the diche within, and not without; The thickenes that a Toune walle ought to bee of, and the distaunces betwene everie flancker, and of what breadth and deapth the dich ought to bee; How the ordinaunce is planted, for the defence of a toune; The nature of the batterie.

You oughte to knowe, how that tounes and fortresses, maie bee strong either by nature, or by industrie; by nature, those bee strong, whiche bee compassed aboute with rivers, or with Fennes, as Mantua is and Ferrara, or whiche bee builded upon a Rocke, or upon a stepe hille, as Monaco, and Sanleo: For that those that stande upon hilles, that be not moche difficulct to goe up, be now a daies, consideryng the artillerie and the Caves, moste weake. And therfore moste often times in building, thei seke now a daies a plain, for to make it stronge with industrie. The firste industrie is, to make the walles crooked, and full of tournynges, and of receiptes: the whiche thyng maketh, that thenemie cannot come nere to it, bicause he maie be hurte, not onely on the front, but by flancke. If the walles be made high, thei bee to moche subjecte to the blowes of the artillerie: if thei be made lowe, thei bee moste easie to scale. If thou makeste the diches on the out side thereof, for to give difficultie to the Ladders, if it happen that the enemie fill them up (whiche a great armie maie easely dooe) the wall remaineth taken of thenemie. Therefore purposyng to provide to the one and thother foresaid inconveniences, I beleve (savyng alwaies better judgement) that the walle ought to be made highe, and the Diche within, and not without. This is the moste strongeste waie of  edificacion, that is made, for that it defendeth thee from the artillerie, and from Ladders, and it giveth not facilitie to the enemie, to fill up the diche: Then the walle ought to be high, of that heighth as shall bee thought beste, and no lesse thick, then two yardes and a quarter, for to make it more difficult to ruinate. Moreover it ought to have the toures placed, with distances of CL. yardes betwen thone and thother: the diche within, ought to be at leaste twoo and twentie yardes and a halfe broad, and nine depe, and al the yearth that is digged out, for to make the diche, muste be throwen towardes the Citee, and kepte up of a walle, that muste be raised from the bottome of the diche, and goe so high over the toune, that a man maie bee covered behinde thesame, the whiche thing shal make the depth of the diche the greater. In the bottome of the diche, within every hundred and l. yardes, there would be a slaughter house, which with the ordinaunce, maie hurte whom so ever should goe doune into thesame: the greate artillerie that defende the citee, are planted behinde the walle, that shutteth the diche, bicause for to defende the utter walle, being high, there cannot bee occupied commodiously, other then smalle or meane peeses. If the enemie come to scale, the heigth of the firste walle moste easely defendeth thee: if he come with ordinaunce, it is convenient for hym to batter the utter walle: but it beyng battered, for that the nature of the batterie is, to make the walle to fall, towardes the parte battered, the ruine of the walle commeth, finding no diche that receiveth and hideth it, to redouble the profunditie of thesame diche: after soche sorte, that to passe any further, it is not possible, findyng a ruine that with holdeth thee, a diche that letteth thee, and the enemies ordinaunce, that from the walle of the diche, moste safely killeth thee. Onely there is this remedie, to fill the diche: the whiche is moste difficulte to dooe, as well bicause the capacitie thereof is greate, as also for the difficultie, that is in commyng nere it, the walle beeyng strong and concaved, betwene the whiche, by the reasons aforesaied, with difficultie maie be entered, havyng after to goe up a breache through a  ruin, whiche giveth thee moste greate difficultie, so that I suppose a citee thus builded, to be altogether invinsible.

BAPTISTE. When there should bee made besides the diche within, a diche also without, should it not bee stronger?

FABRICIO. It should be without doubt, but mindyng to make one diche onely, myne opinion is, that it standeth better within then without.

BAPTISTE. Would you, that water should bee in the diches, or would you have them drie?

A drie diche is moste sureste.

FABRICIO. The opinion of men herein bee divers, bicause the diches full of water, saveth thee from mines under grounde, the Diches without water, maketh more difficulte the fillyng of them: but I havyng considered all, would make them without water, for that thei bee more sure: For diches with water, have been seen in the Winter to bee frosen, and to make easie the winnyng of a citee, as it happened to Mirandola, when Pope Julie besieged it: and for to save me from mines, I would make it so deepe, that he that would digge lower, should finde water.

An advertisemente for the buildyng and defending of a Toune or Fortresse; Small fortresses cannot bee defended; A toune of war or Fortresse, ought not to have in them any retiring places; Cesar Borgia; The causes of the losse of the Fortresse of Furlie, that was thought invincible; Howe the houses that are in a toune of war or Fortresse ought to be builded.

The Fortresses also, I would builde concernyng the diches and the walles in like maner, to the intent thei should have the like difficultie to be wonne. One thyng I will earnestly advise hym, that defendeth a Citee: and that is, that he make no Bulwarkes without distaunte from the walle of thesame: and an other to hym that buildeth the Fortresse, and this is, that he make not any refuge place in them, in whiche he that is within, the firste walle beyng loste, maie retire: That whiche maketh me to give the firste counsaile is, that no manne ought to make any thyng, by meane wherof, he maie be driven without remedie to lese his firste reputacion, the whiche losyng, causeth to be estemed lesse his other doinges, and maketh afraied them, whom have taken upon theim his defence, and alwaies it shall chaunce him this, whiche I saie, when there are made Bulwarkes out of the Toune, that is to bee defended, bicause alwaies he shall leese theim, little thynges now a daies, beyng not able to bee defended, when thei be subject to the furie of ordinance, in soche wise that lesyng them,  thei be beginning and cause of his ruine. When Genua rebelled againste king Leus of Fraunce, it made certaine Bulwarkes alofte on those hilles, whiche bee about it, the whiche so sone as thei were loste, whiche was sodainly, made also the citee to be loste. Concernyng the second counsaile, I affirme nothyng to be to a Fortresse more perilous, then to be in thesame refuge places, to be able to retire: Bicause the hope that menne have thereby, maketh that thei leese the utter warde, when it is assaulted: and that loste, maketh to bee loste after, all the Fortresse. For insample there is freshe in remembraunce, the losse of the Fortresse of Furly, when Catherin the Countesse defended it againste Cesar Borgia, sonne to Pope Alexander the vi. who had conducted thether the armie of the king of Fraunce: thesame Fortresse, was al full of places, to retire out of one into an other: for that there was firste the kepe, from the same to the Fortresse, was a diche after soche sorte, that thei passed over it by a draw bridge: the fortresse was devided into three partes, and every parte was devided from the other with diches, and with water, and by Bridges, thei passed from the one place to the other: wherefore the Duke battered with his artillerie, one of the partes of the fortresse, and opened part of the walle: For whiche cause Maister Jhon Casale, whiche was appoincted to that Warde, thought not good to defende that breache, but abandoned it for to retire hymself into the other places: so that the Dukes men having entered into that parte without incounter, in a sodaine thei gotte it all: For that the Dukes menne became lordes of the bridges, whiche went from one place to an other. Thei loste then this Fortresse, whiche was thought invinsible, through two defaultes, the one for havyng so many retiryng places, the other, bicause every retiryng place, was not Lorde of the bridge thereof. Therefore, the naughtie builded Fortresse, and the little wisedome of them that defended it, caused shame to the noble enterprise of the countesse, whoe had thought to have abidden an armie, whiche neither the kyng of Naples, nor the Duke of Milaine would have abidden: and although  his inforcementes had no good ende, yet notwithstandyng he gotte that honoure, whiche his valiauntnesse had deserved: The whiche was testified of many Epigrammes, made in those daies in his praise. Therefore, if I should have to builde a Fortresse, I would make the walles strong, and the diches in the maner as we have reasoned, nor I would not make therein other, then houses to inhabite, and those I would make weake and lowe, after soche sorte that thei should not let him that should stande in the middest of the Market place, the sight of all the walle, to the intente that the Capitain might see with the iye, where he maie succour: and that every manne should understande, that the walle and the diche beyng lost, the fortresse were lost. And yet when I should make any retiryng places, I would make the bridges devided in soche wise, that every parte should be Lorde of the bridges of his side, ordainyng, that thei should fall upon postes, in the middest of the diche.

BAPTISTE. You have saied that littel thynges now a daies can not bee defended, and it seemed unto me to have understoode the contrarie, that the lesser that a thyng wer, the better it might be defended.

The fortifiyng of the entrance of a Toune.

FABRICIO. You have not understoode well, because that place cannot be now a daies called stronge, wher he that defendeth it, hath not space to retire with new diches, and with new fortificacions, for that the force of the ordinance is so much, that he that trusteth uppon the warde of one wall and of one fortification only, is deceived: and because the Bulwarkes (mindyng that they passe not their ordinarie measure, for that then they shoulde be townes and Castels) be not made, in suche wise that men maie have space within them to retire, thei are loste straight waie. Therefore it is wisdom to let alone those Bulwarkes without, and to fortifie thenterance of the toune, and to kever the gates of the same with turnyngs after suche sort, that men cannot goe in nor oute of the gate by right line: and from the tournynges to the gate, to make a diche with a bridge. Also they fortifie the gate, with a Percullis, for to bee abell  to put therin their menne, when they be issued out to faight, and hapnyng that the enemies pursue them, to avoide, that in the mingelynge together, they enter not in with them: and therfore these be used, the which the antiquitie called Cattarratte, the whiche beyng let fall, exclude thenemies, and save the freendes, for that in suche a case, men can do no good neither by bridges nor by a gate, the one and the other beynge ocupied with prease of menne.

BAPTISTE. I have seene these Perculleses that you speake of, made in Almayne of littell quarters of woodde after the facion of a grate of Iron, and these percullises of ouers, be made of plankes all massive: I woulde desire to understande whereof groweth this difference, and which be the strongest.

Battelments ought to be large and thicke and the flanckers large within.

FABRICIO. I tell you agayne, that the manners and orders of the warre, throughe oute all the worlde, in respecte to those of the antiquitie, be extinguesshed, and in Italye they bee altogether loste, for if there bee a thing somewhat stronger then the ordinarye, it groweth of the insample of other countries. You mighte have understoode and these other may remember, with howe muche debilitie before, that king Charles of Fraunce in the yere of our salvation a thousande CCCC. xciiii. had passed into Italie, they made the batelmentes not halfe a yarde thicke, the loopes, and the flanckers were made with a litle opening without, and muche within, and with manye other faultes whiche not to be tedious I will let passe: for that easely from thinne battelments the defence is taken awaye, the flanckers builded in the same maner, moste easylye are opened: Nowe of the Frenchemen is learned to make the battelment large and thicke, and the flanckers to bee large on the parte within, and to drawe together in the middeste of the wall, and then agayn to waxe wider unto the uttermost parte without: this maketh that the ordinaunce hardlye can take away the defence. Therfore the Frenchmen have, manye other devises like these, the whiche because they have not beene seene of our men, they have not beene considered. Among whiche, is this kinde of  perculles made like unto a grate, the which is a greate deale better then oures: for that if you have for defence of a gate a massive parculles as oures, letting it fall, you shutte in your menne, and you can not though the same hurte the enemie, so that hee with axes, and with fire, maye breake it downe safely: but if it bee made like a grate, you maye, it being let downe, through those holes and through those open places, defende it with Pikes, with crosbowes, and with all other kinde of weapons.

BAPTISTE. I have seene in Italye an other use after the outelandishe fashion, and this is, to make the carriage of the artillery with the spokes of the wheele crooked towardes the Axeltree. I woulde knowe why they make them so: seeming unto mee that they bee stronger when they are made straighte as those of oure wheeles.

Neither the ditche, wall tillage, nor any kinde of edificacion, ought to be within a mile of a toune of warre.

FABRICIO. Never beleeve that the thinges that differ from the ordinarie wayes, be made by chaunce: and if you shoulde beleeve that they make them so, to shewe fayrer, you are deceaved: because where strength is necessarie, there is made no counte of fayrenesse: but all groweth, for that they be muche surer and muche stronger then ours. The reason is this: the carte when it is laden, either goeth even, or leaning upon the righte, or upon the lefte side: when it goeth even, the wheeles equally sustayne the wayght, the which being equallye devided betweene them, doth not burden much, but leaning, it commeth to have all the paise of the cariage on the backe of that wheele upon the which it leaneth. If the spokes of the same be straight they wil soone breake: for that the wheele leaning, the spokes come also to leane, and not to sustaine the paise by the straightnesse of them, and so when the carte goeth even, and when they are least burdened, they come to bee strongest: when the Carte goeth awrye, and that they come to have moste paise, they bee weakest. Even the contrarie happeneth to the crooked spokes of the Frenche Cartes, for that when the carte leaning upon one side poincteth uppon them, because they bee ordinary crooked, they come then to bee straight, and to be able to sustayne  strongly al the payse, where when the carte goeth even, and that they bee crooked, they sustayne it halfe: but let us tourne to our citie and Fortresse. The Frenchemen use also for more safegarde of the gates of their townes, and for to bee able in sieges more easylye to convey and set oute men of them, besides the sayde thinges, an other devise, of which I have not seene yet in Italye anye insample: and this is, where they rayse on the oute side from the ende of the drawe bridge twoo postes, and upon either of them they joigne a beame, in suche wise that the one halfe of them comes over the bridge, the other halfe with oute: then all the same parte that commeth withoute, they joygne together with small quarters of woodde, the whiche they set thicke from one beame to an other like unto a grate, and on the parte within, they fasten to the ende of either of the beames a chaine: then when they will shutte the bridge on the oute side, they slacke the chaines, and let downe all the same parte like unto a grate, the whiche comming downe, shuttethe the bridge, and when they will open it, they drawe the chaines, and the same commeth to rise up, and they maye raise it up so much that a man may passe under it, and not a horse, and so much that there maye passe horse and man, and shutte it againe at ones, for that it falleth and riseth as a window of a battelment. This devise is more sure than the Parculles, because hardely it maye be of the enemye lette in such wise, that it fall not downe, falling not by a righte line as the Parculles, which easely may be underpropped. Therfore they which will make a citie oughte to cause to be ordained all the saide things: and moreover aboute the walle, there woulde not bee suffered any grounde to be tilled, within a myle thereof, nor any wall made, but shoulde be all champaine, where should be neither ditch nor banck, neither tree nor house, which might let the fighte, and make defence for the enemie that incampeth.

Noote; The provision that is meete to be made for the defence of a toune.

And noote, that a Towne, whiche hathe the ditches withoute, with the banckes higher then the grounde, is moste weake: for as muche as they make defence to the enemye  which assaulteth thee, and letteth him not hurte thee, because easely they may be opened, and geve place to his artillerye: but let us passe into the Towne. I will not loose so muche time in shewing you howe that besides the foresayde thinges, it is requisite to have provision of victualles, and wherewith to fight, for that they be thinges that everye man underdeth, and without them, all other provision is vaine: and generally twoo thinges oughte to be done, to provide and to take the commoditie from the enemie that he availe not by the things of thy countrey: therfore the straw, the beastes, the graine, whiche thou canste not receive into house, ought to be destroied. Also he that defendeth a Towne, oughte to provide that nothing bee done tumultuouslye and disordinatelye, and to take suche order, that in all accidentes everye man maye knowe what he hath to doo.

What incoragethe the enemy most that besiegeth a toune; What he that besiegeth and he that defendeth oughte to doo; Advertisementes for a besieged towne; Howe the Romaines vitaled Casalino besieged of Aniball; A policie for the besieged.

The order that oughte to be taken is thus, that the women, the olde folkes, the children, and the impotent, be made to keepe within doores, that the Towne maye be left free, to yong and lustie men, whom being armed, must be destributed for the defence of the same, appointing part of them to the wall, parte to the gates, parte to the principall places of the Citie, for to remedie those inconveniences, that might growe within: an other parte must not be bound to any place, but be ready to succour all, neede requiring: and the thing beeing ordained thus, with difficultie tumulte can growe, whiche maye disorder thee. Also I will that you note this, in the besieging and defending of a Citie, that nothing geveth so muche hoope to the adversarye to be able to winne a towne, as when he knoweth that the same is not accustomed to see the enemie: for that many times for feare onely without other experience of force, cities have bene loste: Therefore a man oughte, when he assaulteth a like Citie, to make all his ostentacions terrible. On the other parte he that is assaulted, oughte to appoincte to the same parte, whiche the enemie fighteth againste, strong men and suche as opinion makethe not afraide, but weapons onely: for that if the first proofe turne vaine, it  increaseth boldenesse to the besieged, and then the enemie is constrained to overcome them within, with vertue and reputacion. The instrumentes wherwith the antiquitie defended townes, where manie: as balistes, onagris, scorpions, Arcubalistes, Fustibals, Slinges: and also those were manie with which thei gave assaultes. As Arrieti, Towers, Musculi Plutei, Viney, Falci, testudeni, in steede of which thynges be now a daies the ordinance, the whiche serve him that bessegeth, and him that defendeth: and therfore I will speake no forther of theim: But let us retourne to our reasonyng and let us come to particular offences. They ought to have care not to be taken by famine, and not to be overcome through assaultes: concernyng famin, it hath ben tolde, that it is requiset before the siege come, to be well provided of vitualles. But when a towne throughe longe siege, lacketh victuals, some times hath ben seen used certaine extraordinarie waies to be provided of their friendes, whome woulde save them: inespeciall if through the middest of the besieged Citie there runne a river, as the Romaines vittelled their castell called Casalino besieged of Anibal, whom being not able by the river to sende them other victual then Nuttes, wherof castyng in the same great quantitie, the which carried of the river, without beyng abel to be letted, fedde longe time the Casalinians. Some besieged, for to shew unto the enemie, that they have graine more then inough and for to make him to dispaire, that he cannot, by famin overcome theim, have caste breade oute of the gates, or geven a Bullocke graine to eate, and after have suffered the same to be taken, to the intent that kilde and founde full of graine, might shewe that aboundance, whiche they had not. On the other parte excellent Capitaines have used sundrie waies to werie the enemie.

A policie of Fabius in besieging of a toune; A policie of Dionisius in besiegynge of a toune.

Fabius suffered them whome he besieged, to sowe their fieldes, to the entente that thei should lacke the same corne, whiche they sowed.

Dionisius beynge in Campe at Regio, fained to minde to make an agreement with them, and duryng the practise  therof he caused him selfe to be provided of their victuales, and then when he had by this mean got from them their graine, he kepte them straight and famished them.

Howe Alexander wanne Leucadia.

Alexander Magnus mindyng to winne Leucadia overcame all the Castels aboute it, and by that means drivyng into the same citie a great multitude of their owne countrie men, famished them.

The besieged ought to take heed of the first brunte; The remedie that townes men have, when the enemies ar entred into the towne; How to make the townes men yeelde.

Concernynge the assaultes, there hath been tolde that chiefely thei ought to beware of the firste bronte, with whiche the Romaines gotte often times manie townes, assaultyng them sodainly, and on every side: and thei called it Aggredi urbem corona. As Scipio did, when he wanne newe Carthage in Hispayne: the which brunte if of a towne it be withstoode, with difficultie after will bee overcome: and yet thoughe it should happen that the enemie were entred into the citie, by overcomynge the wall, yet the townes men have some remedie, so thei forsake it not: for as much as manie armies through entring into a toune, have ben repulced or slaine: the remedie is, that the townes men doe keepe them selves in highe places, and from the houses, and from the towers to faight with them: the whiche thynge, they that have entered into the citie, have devised to overcome in twoo manners: the one with openyng the gates of the citie, and to make the waie for the townes men, that thei might safely flie: the other with sendynge foorthe a proclamacion, that signifieth, that none shall be hurte but the armed, and to them that caste their weapons on the grounde, pardon shall be graunted: the whiche thynge hath made easie the victorie of manie cities.

How townes or cities are easelie wonne; How duke Valentine got the citie of Urbine; The besieged ought to take heede of the deciptes and policies of the enemie; How Domitio Calvino wan a towne.

Besides this, the Citees are easie to bee wonne, if thou come upon them unawares: whiche is dooen beyng with thy armie farre of, after soche sort, that it be not beleved, either that thou wilte assaulte theim, or that thou canst dooe it, without commyng openly, bicause of the distance of the place: wherefore, if thou secretely and spedely assaulte theim, almoste alwaies it shall followe, that thou shalte gette the victorie. I reason unwillingly of the thynges succeded in our tyme, for that to me and to mine, it  should be a burthen, and to reason of other, I cannot tel what to saie: notwithstanding, I cannot to this purpose but declare, the insample of Cesar Borgia, called duke Valentine, who beyng at Nocera with his menne, under colour of goyng to besiege Camerino, tourned towardes the state of Urbin, and gotte a state in a daie, and without any paine, the whiche an other with moche time and cost, should scante have gotten. It is conveniente also to those, that be besieged, to take heede of the deceiptes, and of the policies of the enemie, and therefore the besieged ought not to truste to any thyng, whiche thei see the enemie dooe continually, but let theim beleve alwaies, that it is under deceipte, and that he can to their hurte varie it. Domitio Calvino besiegyng a toune, used for a custome to compasse aboute every daie, with a good parte of his menne, the wall of the same: whereby the Tounes menne, belevyng that he did it for exercise, slacked the Ward: whereof Domicius beyng aware, assaulted and overcame them.

A policie to get a towne.

Certaine Capitaines understandyng, that there should come aide to the besieged, have apareled their Souldiours, under the Ansigne of those, that should come, and beyng let in, have gotte the Toune.

How Simon of Athens wan a towne; A policie to get a towne; How Scipio gotte certaine castels in Afrike.

Simon of Athens set fire in a night on a Temple, whiche was out of the toune, wherefore, the tounes menne goyng to succour it, lefte the toune in praie to the enemie. Some have slaine those, whiche from the besieged Castle, have gone a foragyng, and have appareled their souldiours, with the apparell of the forragers, whom after have gotte the toune. The aunciente Capitaines, have also used divers waies, to destroie the Garison of the Toune, whiche thei have sought to take. Scipio beyng in Africa, and desiring to gette certaine Castles, in whiche were putte the Garrisons of Carthage, he made many tymes, as though he would assaulte theim, albeit, he fained after, not onely to abstaine, but to goe awaie from them for feare: the whiche Aniball belevyng to bee true, for to pursue hym with greater force, and for to bee able more easely to oppresse him, drewe out  all the garrisons of theim: The whiche Scipio knowyng, sente Massinissa his Capitaine to overcome them.

Howe Pirrus wan the chiefe Citie of Sclavonie; A policie to get a towne; How the beseiged are made to yelde; Howe to get a towne by treason; A policie of Aniball for the betraiyng of a Castell; How the besieged maie be begiled; How Formion overcame the Calcidensians; What the besieged muste take heede of; Liberalitie maketh enemies frendes; The diligence that the besieged ought to use in their watche and ward.

Pirrus makyng warre in Sclavonie, to the chiefe citee of the same countrie, where were brought many menne in Garrison, fained to dispaire to bee able to winne it, and tourning to other places, made that the same for to succour them, emptied it self of the warde, and became easie to bee wonne. Many have corrupted the water, and have tourned the rivers an other waie to take Tounes. Also the besieged, are easely made to yelde them selves, makyng theim afraied, with signifiyng unto them a victorie gotten, or with new aides, whiche come in their disfavour. The old Capitaines have sought to gette Tounes by treason, corruptyng some within, but thei have used divers meanes. Sum have sente a manne of theirs, whiche under the name of a fugetive, might take aucthoritie and truste with the enemies, who after have used it to their profite. Some by this meanes, have understode the maner of the watche, and by meanes of the same knowledge, have taken the Toune. Some with a Carte, or with Beames under some colour, have letted the gate, that it could not bee shutte, and with this waie, made the entrie easie to the enemie. Aniball perswaded one, to give him a castle of the Romaines, and that he should fain to go a huntyng in the night, makyng as though he could not goe by daie, for feare of the enemies, and tournyng after with the Venison, should put in with hym certaine of his menne, and so killyng the watchmen, should give hym the gate. Also the besieged are beguiled, with drawyng them out of the Toune, and goyng awaie from them, faining to flie when thei assault thee. And many (emong whom was Anibal) have for no other intente, let their Campe to be taken, but to have occasion to get betwene theim and home, and to take their Toune. Also, thei are beguiled with fainyng to departe from them, as Formion of Athens did, who havyng spoiled the countrie of the Calcidensians, received after their ambassadours, fillyng their Citee with faire promises, and hope of safetie, under the which as simple menne, thei were a little after of Formione  oppressed. The besieged ought to beware of the men, whiche thei have in suspecte emong them: but some times thei are wont, as well to assure them selves with deserte, as with punishemente. Marcellus knoweyng how Lucius Bancius a Nolane, was tourned to favour Aniball so moche humanitie and liberalitie, he used towardes him, that of an enemie, he made him moste frendely. The besieged ought to use more diligence in the warde, when the enemie is gone from theim, then when he is at hande. And thei ought to warde those places, whiche thei thinke, that maie bee hurt least: for that many tounes have been loste, when thenemie assaulteth it on thesame part, where thei beleve not possible to be assaulted. And this deceipt groweth of twoo causes, either for the place being strong, and to beleve, that it is invinsible, or through craft beyng used of the enemie, in assaltyng theim on one side with fained alaroms, and on the other without noise, and with verie assaltes in deede: and therefore the besieged, ought to have greate advertisment, and above all thynges at all times, and in especially in the night to make good watche to bee kepte on the walles, and not onely to appoincte menne, but Dogges, and soche fiearse Mastives, and lively, the whiche by their sente maie descrie the enemie, and with barkyng discover him: and not Dogges onely, but Geese have ben seen to have saved a citee, as it happened to Roome, when the Frenchemen besieged the Capitoll.

An order of Alcibiades for the dew keping of watch and warde.

Alcibiades for to see, whether the warde watched, Athense beeyng besieged of the Spartaines, ordained that when in the night, he should lifte up a light, all the ward should lift up likewise, constitutyng punishmente to hym that observed it not.

The secrete conveighyng of Letters; The defence against a breach; How the antiquitie got tounes by muining under grounde.

Isicrates of Athens killed a watchman, which slept, saiyng that he lefte him as he found him. Those that have been besieged, have used divers meanes, to sende advise to their frendes: and mindyng not to send their message by mouth, thei have written letters in Cifers, and hidden them in sundrie wise: the Cifers be according, as pleaseth him that ordaineth them, the maner of hidyng them is divers. Some  have written within the scaberde of a sweard: Other have put the Letters in an unbaked lofe, and after have baked the same, and given it for meate to hym that caried theim. Certaine have hidden them, in the secreteste place of their bodies: other have hidden them in the collor of a Dogge, that is familiare with hym, whiche carrieth theim: Some have written in a letter ordinarie thinges, and after betwene thone line and thother, have also written with water, that wetyng it or warming it after, the letters should appere. This waie hath been moste politikely observed in our time: where some myndyng to signifie to their freendes inhabityng within a towne, thinges to be kept secret, and mindynge not to truste any person, have sente common matters written, accordyng to the common use and enterlined it, as I have saied above, and the same have made to be hanged on the gates of the Temples, the whiche by countersignes beyng knowen of those, unto whome they have been sente, were taken of and redde: the whiche way is moste politique, bicause he that carrieth them maie bee beguiled, and there shall happen hym no perill. There be moste infinite other waies, whiche every manne maie by himself rede and finde: but with more facilitie, the besieged maie bee written unto, then the besieged to their frendes without, for that soche letters cannot be sent, but by one, under colour of a fugetive, that commeth out of a toune: the whiche is a daungerous and perilous thing, when thenemie is any whit craftie: But those that sende in, he that is sente, maie under many colours, goe into the Campe that besiegeth, and from thens takyng conveniente occasion, maie leape into the toune: but lette us come to speake of the present winnyng of tounes. I saie that if it happen, that thou bee besieged in thy citee, whiche is not ordained with diches within, as a little before we shewed, to mynde that thenemie shall not enter through the breach of the walle, whiche the artillerie maketh: bicause there is no remedie to lette thesame from makyng of a breache, it is therefore necessarie for thee, whileste the ordinance battereth, to caste a diche within the wall which is battered, and that it be in bredth at leaste  twoo and twentie yardes and a halfe, and to throwe all thesame that is digged towardes the toun, whiche maie make banke, and the diche more deper: and it is convenient for thee, to sollicitate this worke in soche wise, that when the walle falleth, the Diche maie be digged at least, fower or five yardes in depth: the whiche diche is necessarie, while it is a digging, to shutte it on every side with a slaughter house: and when the wall is so strong, that it giveth thee time to make the diche, and the slaughter houses, that battered parte, commeth to be moche stronger, then the rest of the citee: for that soche fortificacion, cometh to have the forme, of the diches which we devised within: but when the walle is weake, and that it giveth thee not tyme, to make like fortificacions, then strengthe and valiauntnesse muste bee shewed, settyng againste the enemies armed menne, with all thy force. This maner of fortificacion was observed of the Pisans, when you besieged theim, and thei might doe it, bicause thei had strong walles, whiche gave them time, the yearth beyng softe and moste meete to raise up banckes, and to make fortificacions: where if thei had lacked this commoditie, thei should have loste the toune. Therefore it shall bee alwaies prudently doen, to provide afore hand, makyng diches within the citee, and through out all the circuite thereof, as a little before wee devised: for that in this case, the enemie maie safely be taried for at laisure, the fortificacions beyng redy made. The antiquitie many tymes gotte tounes, with muinyng under ground in twoo maners, either thei made a waie under grounde secretely, whiche risse in the toune, and by thesame entered, in whiche maner the Romaines toke the citee of Veienti, or with the muinyng, thei overthrewe a walle, and made it ruinate: this laste waie is now a daies moste stronge, and maketh, that the citees placed high, be most weake, bicause thei maie better bee under muined: and puttyng after in a Cave of this Gunne pouder, whiche in a momente kindelyng, not onely ruinateth a wall, but it openeth the hilles, and utterly dissolveth the strength of them.

The reamedie against Caves or undermuinynges; What care the besieged ought to have; What maketh a citee or campe difficulte to bee defended; By what meanes thei that besiege ar made afraied; Honour got by constancie.

The remedie for this, is to builde in the plain, and to  make the diche that compasseth thy citee, so deepe, that the enemie maie not digge lower then thesame, where he shall not finde water, whiche onely is enemie to the caves: for if thou be in a toune, which thou defendest on a high ground, thou canst not remedie it otherwise, then to make within thy walles many deepe Welles, the whiche be as drouners to thesame Caves, that the enemie is able to ordain against thee. An other remedie there is, to make a cave againste it, when thou shouldeste bee aware where he muineth, the whiche waie easely hindereth hym, but difficultly it is foreseen, beyng besieged of a craftie enemie. He that is besieged, ought above al thinges to have care, not to bee oppressed in the tyme of reste: as is after a battaile fought, after the watche made, whiche is in the Mornyng at breake of daie, and in the Evenyng betwen daie and night, and above al, at meale times: in whiche tyme many tounes have been wonne, and armies have been of them within ruinated: therefore it is requisite with diligence on all partes, to stande alwaies garded, and in a good part armed. I will not lacke to tell you, how that, whiche maketh a citee or a campe difficult to be defended, is to be driven to kepe sundred all the force, that thou haste in theim, for that the enemie beyng able to assaulte thee at his pleasure altogether, it is conveniente for thee on every side, to garde every place, and so he assaulteth thee with all his force, and thou with parte of thine defendest thee. Also, the besieged maie bee overcome altogether, he without cannot bee, but repulced: wherefore many, whom have been besieged, either in a Campe, or in a Toune, although thei have been inferiour of power, have issued out with their men at a sodaine, and have overcome the enemie. This Marcellus of Nola did: this did Cesar in Fraunce, where his Campe beeyng assaulted of a moste great nomber of Frenchmen, and seeyng hymself not able to defende it, beyng constrained to devide his force into many partes, and not to bee able standyng within the Listes, with violence to repulce thenemie: he opened the campe on thone side, and turning towardes thesame parte with all his  power, made so moche violence against them, and with moche valiantnes, that he vanquisshed and overcame them. The constancie also of the besieged, causeth many tymes displeasure, and maketh afraied them that doe besiege. Pompei beyng against Cesar, and Cesars armie beeyng in greate distresse through famine, there was brought of his bredde to Pompei, whom seyng it made of grasse, commaunded, that it should not bee shewed unto his armie, least it shoulde make them afraide, seyng what enemies they had against theim. Nothyng caused so muche honour to the Romaines in the warre of Aniball, as their constancie: for as muche as in what so ever envious, and adverse fortune thei were troubled, they never demaunded peace, thei never made anie signe of feare, but rather when Aniball was aboute Rome, thei solde those fieldes, where he had pitched his campe, dearer then ordinarie in other times shoulde have been solde: and they stoode in so much obstinacie in their enterprises, that for to defende Rome, thei would not raise their campe from Capua, the whiche in the verie same time that Roome was besieged, the Romaines did besiege.

I knowe that I have tolde you of manie thynges, the whiche by your selfe you might have understoode, and considered, notwithstandyng I have doen it (as to daie also I have tolde you) for to be abell to shewe you better by meane therof, the qualitie of this armie, and also for to satisfie those, if there be anie, whome have not had the same commoditie to understand them as you. Nor me thinkes that there resteth other to tell you, then certaine generall rules, the whiche you shal have moste familiar, which be these.

Generall rules of warre.

The same that helpeth the enemie, hurteth thee: and the same that helpeth thee, hurteth the enemie.

He that shall be in the warre moste vigilant to observe the devises of the enemie, and shall take moste payne to exercise his armie, shall incurre least perilles and maie hope moste of the victorie.

Never conducte thy men to faight the field, if first them hast not confirmed their mindes and knowest them to be  without feare, and to be in good order: for thou oughteste never to enterprise any dangerous thyng with thy souldiours, but when thou seest, that they hope to overcome.

It is better to conquere the enemie with faminne, then with yron: in the victorie of which, fortune maie doe much more then valiantnesse.

No purpose is better then that, whiche is hidde from the enemie untill thou have executed it.

To know in the warre how to understande occasion, and to take it, helpeth more then anie other thynge.

Nature breedeth few stronge menne, the industrie and the exercise maketh manie.

Discipline maie doe more in warre, then furie.

When anie departe from the enemies side for to come to serve thee, when thei be faithfull, thei shalbe unto thee alwaies great gaines: for that the power of thadversaries are more deminisshed with the losse of them, that runne awaie, then of those that be slaine, although that the name of a fugetive be to new frendes suspected, to olde odius.

Better it is in pitchyng the fielde, to reserve behynde the first front aide inoughe, then to make the fronte bigger to disperse the souldiours.

He is difficultely overcome, whiche can know his owne power and the same of the enemie.

The valiantenesse of the souldiours availeth more then the multitude.

Some times the situacion helpeth more then the valiantenesse.

New and sudden thynges, make armies afrayde.

Slowe and accustomed thinges, be littell regarded of them. Therfore make thy armie to practise and to know with small faightes a new enemie, before thou come to faight the fielde with him.

He that with disorder foloweth the enemie after that he is broken, will doe no other, then to become of a conquerour a loser.

He that prepareth not necessarie victualles to live upon, is overcome without yron.

He that trusteth more in horsemen then in footemen, more in footemen then in horsemen, must accommodate him selfe with the situacion.

When thou wilte see if in the daie there be comen anie spie into the Campe, cause everie man to goe to his lodgynge.

Chaunge purpose, when thou perceivest that the enemie hath forseene it.

How to consulte.

Consulte with many of those thinges, which thou oughtest to dooe: the same that thou wilt after dooe, conferre with fewe.

Souldiours when thei abide at home, are mainteined with feare and punishemente, after when thei ar led to the warre with hope and with rewarde.

Good Capitaines come never to faight the fielde, excepte necessitie constraine theim, and occasion call them.

Cause that thenemies know not, how thou wilte order thy armie to faight, and in what so ever maner that thou ordainest it, make that the firste bande may be received of the seconde and of the thirde.

In the faight never occupie a battell to any other thyng, then to the same, for whiche thou haste apoineted it, if thou wilt make no disorder.

The sodene accidentes, with difficultie are reamedied: those that are thought upon, with facilitie.

What thynges are the strength of the warre.

Men, yron, money, and bread, be the strengthe of the warre, but of these fower, the first twoo be moste necessarie: because men and yron, finde money and breade: but breade and money fynde not men and yron.

The unarmed riche man, is a bootie to the poore souldiour.

Accustome thy souldiours to dispise delicate livyng and lacivius aparell.

This is as muche as hapneth me generally to remember you, and I know that there might have ben saied manie other thynges in all this my reasonynge: as should be, howe and in howe manie kinde of waies the antiquitie ordered their bandes, how thei appareled them, and how in manie other thynges they exercised them, and to have joygned  hereunto manie other particulars, the whiche I have not judged necessarie to shew, as wel for that you your self may se them, as also for that my intente hath not been to shew juste how the olde servis of warre was apoincted, but howe in these daies a servis of warre might be ordained, whiche should have more vertue then the same that is used. Wherfore I have not thought good of the auncient thynges to reason other, then that, which I have judged to suche introduction necessarie. I know also that I might have delated more upon the service on horsebacke, and after have reasoned of the warre on the Sea: for as muche as he that destinguissheth the servis of warre, saieth, how there is an armie on the sea, and of the lande, on foote, and on horsebacke. Of that on the sea, I will not presume to speake, for that I have no knowledge therof: but I will let the Genoues, and the Venecians speake therof, whome with like studies have heretofore doen great thinges.

Also of horses, I wil speake no other, then as afore I have saied, this parte beynge (as I have declared) least corrupted. Besides this, the footemen being wel ordained, which is the puissance of the armie, good horses of necessitie will come to be made.

Provisions that maie bee made to fill a Realme full of good horse; The knowledge that a capitaine oughte to have.

Onely I counsel him that would ordayne the exercise of armes in his owne countrey, and desireth to fill the same with good horses, that he make two provisions: the one is, that he destribute Mares of a good race throughe his dominion, and accustome his menne to make choise of coltes, as you in this countrie make of Calves and Mules: the other is, that to thentente the excepted might finde a byer, I woulde prohibet that no man should kepe a Mule excepte he woulde keepe a horse: so that he that woulde kepe but one beaste to ride on, shoulde be constrained to keepe a horse: and moreover that no man should weare fine cloathe except he which doeth keepe a horse: this order I under stande hath beene devised of certaine princes in our time, whome in short space have therby, brought into their countrey an excellente numbre of good horses. Aboute the other thynges, as much as might be looked for concernynge  horse, I remit to as much as I have saied to daie, and to that whiche they use. Peradventure also you woulde desire to understand what condicions a Capitaine ought to have: wherof I shal satisfie you moste breeflie: for that I cannot tell how to chose anie other man then the same, who shoulde know howe to doe all those thynges whiche this daie hath ben reasoned of by us: the which also should not suffise, when he should not knowe howe to devise of him selfe: for that no man without invencion, was ever excellent in anie science: and if invencion causeth honour in other thynges, in this above all, it maketh a man honorable: for everie invention is seen, although it were but simple, to be of writers celebrated: as it is seen, where Alexander Magnus is praised, who for to remove his Campe moste secretely, gave not warnyng with the Trumpette, but with a hatte upon a Launce. And was praised also for havyng taken order that his souldiours in buckelynge with the enemies, shoulde kneele with the lefte legge, to bee able more strongly to withstande their violence: the whiche havyng geven him the victorie, it got him also so muche praise, that all the Images, whiche were erected in his honour, stoode after the same facion. But because it is tyme to finishe this reasonyng, I wil turne againe to my first purpose, and partly I shall avoide the same reproche, wherin they use to condempne in this towne, such as knoweth not when to make an ende.

The auctor retorneth to his first purpose and maketh a littel discorse to make an ende of his reasonyng.

If you remembre Cosimus you tolde me, that I beyng of one side an exalter of the antiquitie, and a dispraiser of those, which in waightie matters imitated them not, and of the other side, I havynge not in the affaires of war, wherin I have taken paine, imitated them, you coulde not perceive the occasion: wherunto I answered, how that men which wil doo any thing, muste firste prepare to knowe how to doe it, for to be able, after to use it, when occasion permitteth: whether I doe know how to bryng the servis of warre to the auncient manners or no, I will be judged by you, whiche have hearde me upon this matter longe dispute wherby you may know, how much time I have consumed  in these studies: and also I beleeve that you maie imagen, how much desire is in me to brynge it to effecte: the whiche whether I have been able to have doen, or that ever occasion hath been geven me, most easely you maie conjecture: yet for to make you more certaine and for my better justificacion, I will also aledge the occasions: and as much as I have promised, I will partely performe, to shew you the difficultie and the facelitie, whiche bee at this presente in suche imitacions.

A prince may easelie brynge to intiere perfection the servis of warre; Two sortes of Capitaines worthie to bee praysed.

Therfore I saie, how that no deede that is doen now a daies emong men, is more easie to be reduced unto the aunciente maners, then the service of Warre: but by them onely that be Princes of so moche state, who can at least gather together of their owne subjectes, xv. or twentie thousande yong menne: otherwise, no thyng is more difficulte, then this, to them whiche have not soche commoditie: and for that you maie the better understande this parte, you have to knowe, howe that there bee of twoo condicions, Capitaines to bee praised: The one are those, that with an armie ordained through the naturalle discipline thereof, have dooen greate thynges: as were the greater parte of the Romaine Citezeins, and suche as have ledde armies, the which have had no other paine, then to maintaine them good, and to se them guided safely: the other are they, whiche not onely have had to overcome the enemie, but before they come to the same, have been constrained to make good and well ordered their armie: who without doubte deserve muche more praise, then those have deserved, which with olde armies, and good, have valiantely wrought. Of these, such wer Pelopida, and Epaminonda, Tullus Hostillius, Phillip of Macedony father of Alexander, Cirus kyng of the Percians, Graccus a Romaine: they all were driven first to make their armies good, and after to faighte with them: they all coulde doe it, as well throughe their prudence, as also for havynge subjectes whome thei might in like exercises instruct: nor it shuld never have ben otherwise possible, that anie of theim, though they had ben never so good and ful of al excellencie, should have  been able in a straunge countrey, full of men corrupted, not used to anie honest obedience, to have brought to passe anie laudable worke. It suffiseth not then in Italie, to know how to governe an army made, but first it is necessarie to know how to make it and after to know how to commaunde it: and to do these things it is requisit they bee those princes, whome havyng much dominion, and subjectes inoughe, maie have commoditie to doe it: of whiche I can not bee, who never commaunded, nor cannot commaunde, but to armies of straungers, and to men bounde to other, and not to me: in whiche if it be possible, or no, to introduce anie of those thynges that this daie of me hath ben reasoned, I will leave it to your judgement.

Albeit when coulde I make one of these souldiours which now a daies practise, to weare more armur then the ordinarie, and besides the armur, to beare their owne meate for two or three daies, with a mattocke: When coulde I make theim to digge, or keepe theim every daie manie howers armed, in fained exercises, for to bee able after in the verie thyng in deede to prevaile? When woulde thei abstaine from plaie, from laciviousnesse, from swearynge, from the insolence, whiche everie daie they committe? when would they be reduced into so muche dissepline, into so much obedience and reverence, that a tree full of appels in the middest of their Campe, shoulde be founde there and lefte untouched? As is redde, that in the auncient armies manie times hapned. What thynge maye I promis them, by meane wherof thei may have me in reverence to love, or to feare, when the warre beyng ended, they have not anie more to doe with me? wher of maie I make them ashamed, whiche be borne and brought up without shame? whie shoulde thei be ruled by me who knowe me not? By what God or by what sainctes may I make them to sweare? By those that thei worship, or by those that they blaspheme? Who they worship I knowe not anie: but I knowe well they blaspheme all. How shoulde I beleeve that thei will keepe their promise to them, whome everie hower they dispise? How can they, that dispise God, reverence men? Then  what good fashion shoulde that be, whiche might be impressed in this matter? And if you should aledge unto me that Suyzzers and Spaniardes bee good souldiours, I woulde confesse unto you, how they be farre better then the Italians: but if you note my reasonynge, and the maner of procedyng of bothe, you shall see, howe they lacke many thynges to joygne to the perfection of the antiquetie. And how the Suyzzers be made good of one of their naturall uses caused of that, whiche to daie I tolde you: those other are made good by mean of a necessitie: for that servyng in a straunge countrie, and seemyng unto them to be constrained either to die, or to overcome, thei perceivynge to have no place to flie, doe become good: but it is a goodnesse in manie partes fawtie: for that in the same there is no other good, but that they bee accustomed to tarie the enemie at the Pike and sweardes poincte: nor that, which thei lacke, no man should be meete to teache them, and so much the lesse, he that coulde not speake their language.

The Auctor excuseth the people of Italie to the great reproche of their prynces for their ignorance in the affaires of warre.

But let us turne to the Italians, who for havynge not had wise Princes, have not taken anie good order: and for havyng not had the same necessitie, whiche the Spaniardes have hadde, they have not taken it of theim selves, so that they remaine the shame of the worlde: and the people be not to blame, but onely their princes, who have ben chastised, and for their ignorance have ben justely punisshed, leesinge moste shamefully their states, without shewing anie vertuous ensample. And if you will see whether this that I say be trew: consider how manie warres have ben in Italie since the departure of kyng Charles to this day, where the war beyng wonte to make men warlyke and of reputacion, these the greater and fierser that they have been, so muche the more they have made the reputacion of the members and of the headdes therof to bee loste. This proveth that it groweth, that the accustomed orders were not nor bee not good, and of the newe orders, there is not anie whiche have knowen how to take them. Nor never beleeve that reputacion will be gotten, by the Italians weapons, but by the same waie that  I have shewed, and by means of theim, that have great states in Italie: for that this forme maie be impressed in simple rude men, of their owne, and not in malicious, ill brought up, and straungers. Nor there shall never bee founde anie good mason, whiche will beleeve to be able to make a faire image of a peece of Marbell ill hewed, but verye well of a rude peece.

A discription of the folishenesse of the Italian princes; Cesar and Alexander, were the formoste in battell; The Venecians and the duke of Ferare began to have reduced the warfare to the Aunciente maners; He that despiseth the servis of warre, despiseth his own welthe.

Our Italian Princes beleved, before thei tasted the blowes of the outlandishe warre, that it should suffice a Prince to knowe by writynges, how to make a subtell answere, to write a goodly letter, to shewe in saiynges, and in woordes, witte and promptenesse, to knowe how to canvas a fraude, to decke theim selves with precious stones and gold, to slepe and to eate with greater glorie then other: To keepe many lascivious persones aboute them, to governe theim selves with their subjectes, covetuously and proudely: To rotte in idlenesse, to give the degrees of the exercise of warre, for good will, to despise if any should have shewed them any laudable waie, minding that their wordes should bee aunswers of oracles: nor the sely wretches were not aware, that thei prepared theim selves to bee a praie, to whom so ever should assaulte theim. Hereby grewe then in the thousande fower hundred nintie and fower yere, the greate feares, the sodain flightes, and the marveilous losses: and so three most mightie states which were in Italie, have been divers times sacked and destroied. But that which is worse, is where those that remaine, continue in the verie same erroure, and live in the verie same disorder, and consider not, that those, who in old time would kepe their states, caused to be dooen these thynges, which of me hath been reasoned, and that their studies wer, to prepare the body to diseases, and the minde not to feare perilles. Whereby grewe that Cesar, Alexander, and all those menne and excellente Princes in old tyme, were the formoste emongest the faighters, goyng armed on foote: and if thei loste their state, thei would loose their life, so that thei lived and died vertuously. And if in theim, or in parte of theim, there might bee condempned to muche ambicion to reason of: yet there shall  never bee founde, that in theim is condempned any tendernesse or any thynge that maketh menne delicate and feable: the whiche thyng, if of these Princes were redde and beleved, it should be impossible, that thei should not change their forme of living, and their provinces not to chaunge fortune. And for that you in the beginnyng of this our reasonyng, lamented your ordinaunces, I saie unto you, that if you had ordained it, as I afore have reasoned, and it had given of it self no good experience, you might with reason have been greved therewith: but if it bee not so ordained, and exercised, as I have saied, it maie be greeved with you, who have made a counterfaite thereof, and no perfecte figure. The Venecians also, and the Duke of Ferare, beganne it, and followed it not, the whiche hath been through their faulte, not through their menne. And therfore I assure you, that who so ever of those, whiche at this daie have states in Italie, shall enter firste into this waie, shall be firste, before any other, Lorde of this Province, and it shall happen to his state, as to the kyngdome of the Macedonians, the which commyng under Philip, who had learned the maner of settyng armies in order of Epaminondas a Thebane, became with this order, and with these exercises (whileste the reste of Grece stoode in idlenesse, and attended to risite comedes) so puisant, that he was able in few yeres to possesse it all, and to leave soche foundacion to his sonne, that he was able to make hymself, prince of all the world. He then that despiseth these studies, if he be a Prince, despiseth his Princedome: if he bee a Citezein, his Citee. Wherefore, I lamente me of nature, the whiche either ought not to have made me a knower of this, or it ought to have given me power, to have been able to have executed it: For now beyng olde, I cannot hope to have any occasion, to bee able so to dooe: In consideracion whereof, I have been liberall with you, who beeyng grave yong menne, maie (when the thynges saied of me shall please you) at due tymes in favour of your Princes, helpe theim and counsaile them, wherein I would have you not to bee afraied, or mistrustfull, bicause this Province seemes to bee altogether given,  to raise up againe the thynges dedde, as is seen by the perfeccion that poesie, paintyng, and writing, is now brought unto: Albeit, as moche as is looked for of me, beyng strooken in yeres, I do mistruste. Where surely, if Fortune had heretofore graunted me so moche state, as suffiseth for a like enterprise, I would not have doubted, but in moste shorte tyme, to have shewed to the worlde, how moche the aunciente orders availe: and without peradventure, either I would have increased it with glory, or loste it without shame.

The ende of the seventh and laste booke of the arte of warre, of Nicholas Machiavell, Citezein and Secretarie of Florence, translated out of Italian into Englishe: By Peter Whitehorne, felow of Graise Inne.

TO THE READERS

To thentente that such as rede this booke maie without difficultie understande the order of the battailes, or bandes of men, and of the armies, and lodgynges in the Campe, accordynge as they in the discription of theim are apoincted, I thinke it necessarie to shewe you the figure of everie one of them: wherefore it is requiset firste, to declare unto you, by what poinctes and letters, the footemen, the horsemen, and everie other particuler membre are set foorthe.

In the first figure nexte folowyng, is discribed the forme of an ordinarie battaile or bande of fower hundred and fiftie men, and in what maner it is redoubled by flanke. And also how with the verie same order of lxxx. rankes, by chaungyng onely to the hinder parte the five rankes of Pikes which were the formost of everie Centurie, thei maye likewise in bringyng them in battaile raie, come to bee placed behinde: whiche may be doen, when in marchyng, the enemies should come to assaulte them at their backes: accordynge as the orderyng therof is before declared. Fol. 87.

In the seconde figure, is shewed how a battaile or bande of men is ordered, whiche in marchyng should be driven to faight on the flanke: accordyng as in the booke is declared. Fol. 87.

In the thirde figure, is shewed how a battaile or bande of men, is ordered with two hornes, fol. 88, and after is shewed how the same maie be made with a voide place in the middest: accordynge as the orderyng therof, in the booke moste plainely is declared, fol. 89.

In the fowerth figure, is shewed the forme or facion of an armie apoincted to faight the battaile with the enemies: and for the better understandynge thereof, the verie same is plainlier set foorthe in the figure next unto it, wherby the other two figures next folowyng maie the easier be understoode: accordynge as in the booke is expressed. Fol. 105.

In the fifte figure, is shewed the forme of a fower square armie: as in the booke is discribed. Fol. 152.

In the sixte figure, is shewed howe an Armie is brought from a fower square facion, to the ordinarie forme, to faight a fielde: accordyng as afore is declared. Fol. 156.

In the seventh figure, is discribed the maner of incamping: according as the same in the booke is declared. Fol. 174.

This is the maner of ordering of CCCC. men, into lxxx. rankes, five to a ranke, to bring them into a iiii square battaile with the Pikes on the front, as after foloweth.

This is the foresaied lxxx. rankes of iiii. C. men brought into a fower square battaile with the Pikes on the fronte. And the fiftie Veliti on the sides and on the backe.

THE SECONDE FIGURE

This is the maner of ordering of CCCC. men, into lxxx. rankes, five to a ranke, to bring them into a iiii square battaile with the Pikes on the side, as after foloweth.

This is the foresaied lxxx. rankes of iiii. C. men brought into a fower square battaile with the Pikes on the side.

THE THYRDE FIGURE

These are the nombers of rankes appoincted to make the horned battaile of, and the square battaile with the voide space in the middest, as after foloweth.

THE FOURTH FIGURE

The cariages and

the unarmed.

THE FIFT FIGURE

HENRY NEVILLE TRANSLATION, 1675

CONTENTS

PREFACE

BOOK I.

BOOK II.

BOOK III.

BOOK IV.

BOOK V.

BOOK VI.

BOOK VII.

THE ART OF WAR

BY

NICCOLO MACHIAVELLI

CITIZEN AND SECRETARY OF FLORENCE TO

LORENZO DI FILIPPO STROZZI,

A GENTLEMEN OF FLORENCE

PREFACE

Many, Lorenzo, have held and still hold the opinion, that there is nothing which has less in common with another, and that is so dissimilar, as civilian life is from the military. Whence it is often observed, if anyone designs to avail himself of an enlistment in the army, that he soon changes, not only his clothes, but also his customs, his habits, his voice, and in the presence of any civilian custom, he goes to pieces; for I do not believe that any man can dress in civilian clothes who wants to be quick and ready for any violence; nor can that man have civilian customs and habits, who judges those customs to be effeminate and those habits not conducive to his actions; nor does it seem right to him to maintain his ordinary appearance and voice who, with his beard and cursing, wants to make other men afraid: which makes such an opinion in these times to be very true. But if they should consider the ancient institutions, they would not find matter more united, more in conformity, and which, of necessity, should be like to each other as much as these (civilian and military); for in all the arts that are established in a society for the sake of the common good of men, all those institutions created to (make people) live in fear of the laws and of God would be in vain, if their defense had not been provided for and which, if well arranged, will maintain not only these, but also those that are not well established. And so (on the contrary), good institutions without the help of the military are not much differently disordered than the habitation of a superb and regal palace, which, even though adorned with jewels and gold, if it is not roofed over will not have anything to protect it from the rain. And, if in any other institutions of a City and of a Republic every diligence is employed in keeping men loyal, peaceful, and full of the fear of God, it is doubled in the military; for in what man ought the country look for greater loyalty than in that man who has to promise to die for her? In whom ought there to be a greater love of peace, than in him who can only be injured by war? In whom ought there to be a greater fear of God than in him who, undergoing infinite dangers every day, has more need for His aid? If these necessities in forming the life of the soldier are well considered, they are found to be praised by those who gave the laws to the Commanders and by those who were put in charge of military training, and followed and imitated with all diligence by others.

But because military institutions have become completely corrupt and far removed from the ancient ways, these sinister opinions have arisen which make the military hated and intercourse with those who train them avoided. And I, judging, by what I have seen and read, that it is not impossible to restore its ancient ways and return some form of past virtue to it, have decided not to let this leisure time of mine pass without doing something, to write what I know of the art of war, to the satisfaction of those who are lovers of the ancient deeds. And although it requires courage to treat of those matters of which others have made a profession, none the less, I do not believe that it is a mistake to occupy a position with words, which may, with greater presumption, have been occupied with deeds; for the errors which I should make in writing can be corrected without injury to anyone, but those which are made with deeds cannot be found out except by the ruin of the Commanders.

You, Lorenzo, will therefore consider the quality of these efforts of mine, and will give in your judgement of them that censure or praise which will appear to you to be merited. I send you these, as much as to show myself grateful for all the benefits I have received from you, although I will not include in them the (review) of this work of mine, as well as also, because being accustomed to honor similar works of those who shine because of their nobility, wealth, genius, and liberality, I know you do not have many equals in wealth and nobility, few in ingenuity, and no one in liberality.

BOOK I.

As I believe that it is possible for one to praise, without concern, any man after he is dead since every reason and supervision for adulation is lacking, I am not apprehensive in praising our own Cosimo Ruccelai, whose name is never remembered by me without tears, as I have recognized in him those parts which can be desired in a good friend among friends and in a citizen of his country. For I do not know what pertained to him more than to spend himself willingly, not excepting that courage of his, for his friends, and I do not know of any enterprise that dismayed him when he knew it was for the good of his country. And I confess freely not to have met among so many men whom I have known and worked with, a man in whom there was a mind more fired with great and magnificent things. Nor does one grieve with the friends of another of his death, except for his having been born to die young unhonored within his own home, without having been able to benefit anyone with that mind of his, for one would know that no one could speak of him, except (to say) that a good friend had died. It does not remain for us, however, or for anyone else who, like us, knew him, to be able because of this to keep the faith (since deeds do not seem to) to his laudable qualities. It is true however, that fortune was not so unfriendly to him that it did not leave some brief memory of the dexterity of his genius, as was demonstrated by some of his writings and compositions of amorous verses, in which (as he was not in love) he (employed as an) exercise in order not to use his time uselessly in his juvenile years, in order that fortune might lead him to higher thoughts. Here, it can be clearly comprehended, that if his objective was exercise, how very happily he described his ideas, and how much he was honored in his poetry. Fortune, however, having deprived us of the use of so great a friend, it appears to me it is not possible to find any other better remedy than for us to seek to benefit from his memory, and recover from it any matter that was either keenly observed or wisely discussed. And as there is nothing of his more recent than the discussions which the Lord Fabrizio Colonna had with him in his gardens, where matters pertaining to war were discussed at length by that Lord, with (questions) keenly and prudently asked by Cosimo, it seemed proper to me having been present with other friends of ours, to recall him to memory, so that reading it, the friends of Cosimo who met there will renew in their minds the memory of his virtue, and another part grieving for not having been there, will learn in part of many things discussed wisely by a most sagacious man useful not only to the military way of life, but to the civilian as well. I will relate, therefore, how Fabrizio Colonna, when he returned from Lombardy where he had fought a long time gloriously for the Catholic King, decided to pass through Florence to rest several days in that City in order to visit His Excellency the Duke, and see again several gentlemen with whom he had been familiar in the past. Whence it appeared proper to Cosimo to invite him to a banquet in his gardens, not so much to show his generosity as to have reason to talk to him at length, and to learn and understand several things from him, according as one can hope to from such a man, for it appeared to him to give him an opportunity to spend a day discussing such matters as would satisfy his mind.

Fabrizio, therefore, came as planned, and was received by Cosimo together with several other loyal friends of his, among whom were Zanobi Buondelmonti, Battista Della Palla, and Luigi Alamanni, young men most ardent in the same studies and loved by him, whose good qualities, because they were also praised daily by himself, we will omit. Fabrizio, therefore, was honored according to the times and the place, with all the highest honors they could give him. As soon as the convivial pleasures were past and the table cleared and every arrangement of feasting finished, which, in the presence of great men and those who have their minds turned to honorable thoughts is soon accomplished, and because the day was long and the heat intense, Cosimo, in order to satisfy their desire better, judged it would be well to take the opportunity to escape the heat by leading them to the more secret and shadowy part of his garden: when they arrived there and chairs brought out, some sat on the grass which was most fresh in the place, some sat on chairs placed in those parts under the shadow of very high trees; Fabrizio praised the place as most delightful, and looking especially at the trees, he did not recognize one of them, and looked puzzled. Cosimo, becoming aware of this said: Perhaps you have no knowledge of some of these trees, but do not wonder about them, because here are some which were more widely known by the ancients than are those commonly seen today. And giving him the name of some and telling him that Bernardo, his grandfather, had worked hard in their culture, Fabrizio replied: I was thinking that it was what you said I was, and this place and this study make me remember several Princes of the Kingdom, who delighted in their ancient culture and the shadow they cast. And stopping speaking of this, and somewhat upon himself as though in suspense, he added: If I did not think I would offend you, I would give you my opinion: but I do not believe in talking and discussing things with friends in this manner that I insult them. How much better would they have done (it is said with peace to everyone) to seek to imitate the ancients in the strong and rugged things, not in the soft and delicate, and in the things they did under the sun, not in the shadows, to adopt the honest and perfect ways of antiquity, not the false and corrupt; for while these practices were pleasing to my Romans, my country (without them) was ruined. To which Cosimo replied (but to avoid the necessity of having to repeat so many times who is speaking, and what the other adds, only the names of those speaking will be noted, without repeating the others). Cosimo, therefore, said: You have opened the way for a discussion which I desired, and I pray you to speak without regard, for I will question you without regard; and if, in questioning or in replying, I accuse or excuse anyone, it will not be for accusing or excusing, but to understand the truth from you.

FABRIZIO

And I will be much content to tell you what I know of all that you ask me; whether it be true or not, I will leave to your judgement. And I will be grateful if you ask me, for I am about to learn as much from what you ask me, as you will from me replying to you, because many times a wise questioner causes one to consider many things and understand many others which, without having been asked, would never have been understood.

COSIMO

I want to return to what you first were saying, that my grandfather and those of yours had more wisely imitated the ancients in rugged things than in delicate ones, and I want to excuse my side because I will let you excuse the other (your side). I do not believe that in your time there was a man who disliked living as softly as he, and that he was so much a lover of that rugged life which you praise: none the less he recognized he could not practice it in his personal life, nor in that of his sons, having been born in so corrupted an age, where anyone who wanted to depart from the common usage would be deformed and despised by everyone. For if anyone in a naked state should thrash upon the sand under the highest sun, or upon the snow in the most icy months of winter, as did Diogenes, he would be considered mad. If anyone (like the Spartan) should raise his children on a farm, make them sleep in the open, go with head and feet bare, bathe in cold water in order to harden them to endure vicissitudes, so that they then might love life less and fear death less, he would be praised by few and followed by none. So that dismayed at these ways of living, he presently leaves the ways of the ancients, and in imitating antiquity, does only that which he can with little wonderment.

FABRIZIO

You have excused him strongly in this part, and certainly you speak the truth: but I did not speak so much of these rugged ways of living, as of those other more human ways which have a greater conformity to the ways of living today, which I do not believe should have been difficult to introduce by one who is numbered among the Princes of a City. I will never forego my examples of my Romans. If their way of living should be examined, and the institutions in their Republic, there will be observed in her many things not impossible to introduce in a Society where there yet might be something of good.

COSIMO

What are those things similar to the ancients that you would introduce?

FABRIZIO

To honor and reward virtu, not to have contempt for poverty, to esteem the modes and orders of military discipline, to constrain citizens to love one another, to live without factions, to esteem less the private than the public good, and other such things which could easily be added in these times. It is not difficult to persuade (people) to these ways, when one considers these at length and approaches them in the usual manner, for the truth will appear in such (examinations) that every common talent is capable of undertaking them. Anyone can arrange these things; (for example), one plants trees under the shadow of which he lives more happily and merrily than if he had not (planted them).

COSIMO

I do not want to reply to anything of what you have spoken, but I do want leave to give a judgment on these, which can be easily judged, and I shall address myself to you who accuse those who in serious and important actions are not imitators of the ancients, thinking that in this way I can more easily carry out my intentions. I should want, therefore, to know from you whence it arises that, on the one hand you condemn those who do not imitate the ancients in their actions, on the other hand, in matters of war which is your profession and in which you are judged to be excellent, it is not observed that you have employed any of the ancient methods, or those which have some similarity.

FABRIZIO

You have come to the point where I expected you to, for what I said did not merit any other question, nor did I wish for any other. And although I am able to save myself with a simple excuse, none the less I want, for your greater satisfaction and mine, since the season (weather) allows it, to enter into a much longer discussion. Men who want to do something, ought first to prepare themselves with all industry, in order ((when the opportunity is seen)) to be prepared to achieve that which they have proposed. And whenever the preparations are undertaken cautiously, unknown to anyone, no none can be accused of negligence unless he is first discovered by the occasion; in which if it is not then successful, it is seen that either he has not sufficiently prepared himself, or that he has not in some part given thought to it. And as the opportunity has not come to me to be able to show the preparations I would make to bring the military to your ancient organization, and it I have not done so, I cannot be blamed either by you or by others. I believe this excuse is enough to respond to your accusation.

COSIMO

It would be enough if I was certain that the opportunity did not present itself.

FABRIZIO

But because I know you could doubt whether this opportunity had come about or not, I want to discuss at length ((if you will listen to me with patience)) which preparations are necessary to be made first, what occasion needs to arise, what difficulty impedes the preparations from becoming beneficial and the occasion from arriving, and that this is ((which appears a paradox)) most difficult and most easy to do.

COSIMO

You cannot do anything more pleasing for me and for the others than this. But if it is not painful for you to speak, it will never be painful for us to listen. But at this discussion may be long, I want help from these, my friends, and with your permission, and they and I pray you one thing, that you do not become annoyed if we sometimes interrupt you with some opportune question.

FABRIZIO

I am most content that you, Cosimo, with these other young people here, should question me, for I believe that young men will become more familiar with military matters, and will more easily understand what I have to say. The others, whose hair (head) is white and whose blood is icy, in part are enemies of war and in part incorrigible, as those who believe that the times and not the evil ways constrain men to live in such a fashion. So ask anything of me, with assurance and without regard; I desire this, as much because it will afford me a little rest, as because it will give me pleasure not to leave any doubts in your minds. I want to begin from your words, where you said to me that in war ((which is my profession)) I have not employed any of the ancient methods. Upon this I say, that this being a profession by which men of every time were not able to live honestly, it cannot be employed as a profession except by a Republic or a Kingdom; and both of these, if well established, will never allow any of their citizens or subjects to employ it as a profession: for he who practices it will never be judged to be good, as to gain some usefulness from it at any time he must be rapacious, deceitful, violent, and have many qualities, which of necessity, do not make him good: nor can men who employ this as a profession, the great as well as the least, be made otherwise, for this profession does not provide for them in peace. Whence they are obliged, either to hope that there will be no peace or to gain so much for themselves in times of war, that they can provide for themselves in times of peace. And wherever one of these two thoughts exists, it does not occur in a good man; for, from the desire to provide for oneself in every circumstance, robberies, violence and assassinations result, which such soldiers do to friends as well as to enemies: and from not desiring peace, there arises those deceptions which Captains perpetrate upon those whom they lead, because war hardens them: and even if peace occurs frequently, it happens that the leaders, being deprived of their stipends and of their licentious mode of living, raise a flag of piracy, and without any mercy sack a province.

Do you not have within the memory of events of your time, many soldiers in Italy, finding themselves without employment because of the termination of wars, gathered themselves into very troublesome gangs, calling themselves companies, and went about levying tribute on the towns and sacking the country, without there being any remedy able to be applied? Have you not read how the Carthaginian soldiers, when the first war they engaged in with the Romans under Matus and Spendius was ended, tumultuously chose two leaders, and waged a more dangerous war against the Carthaginians than that which they had just concluded with the Romans? And in the time of our fathers, Francesco Sforza, in order to be able to live honorably (comfortably) in times of peace, not only deceived the Milanese, in whose pay he was, but took away their liberty and became their Prince. All the other soldiers of Italy, who have employed the military as their particular profession, have been like this man; and if, through their malignity, they have not become Dukes of Milan, so much more do they merit to be censured; for without such a return ((if their lives were to be examined)), they all have the same cares. Sforza, father of Francesco, constrained Queen Giovanna to throw herself into the arms of the King of Aragon, having abandoned her suddenly, and left her disarmed amid her enemies, only in order to satisfy his ambition of either levying tribute or taking the Kingdom. Braccio, with the same industry, sought to occupy the Kingdom of Naples, and would have succeeded, had he not been routed and killed at Aquilla. Such evils do not result from anything else other than the existence of men who employ the practice of soldiering as their own profession. Do you not have a proverb which strengthens my argument, which says: War makes robbers, and peace hangs them? For those who do not know how to live by another practice, and not finding any one who will support them in that, and not having so much virtu that they know how to come and live together honorably, are forced by necessity to roam the streets, and justice is forced to extinguish them.

COSIMO

You have made me turn this profession (art) of soldiering back almost to nothing, and I had supposed it to be the most excellent and most honorable of any: so that if you do not clarify this better, I will not be satisfied; for if it is as you say, I do not know whence arises the glory of Caesar, Pompey, Scipio, Marcellus, and of so many Roman Captains who are celebrated for their fame as the Gods.

FABRIZIO

I have not yet finished discussing all that I proposed, which included two things: the one, that a good man was not able to undertake this practice because of his profession: the other, that a well established Republic or Kingdom would never permit its subjects or citizens to employ it for their profession. Concerning the first, I have spoken as much as has occurred to me: it remains for me to talk of the second, where I shall reply to this last question of yours, and I say that Pompey and Caesar, and almost all those Captains who were in Rome after the last Carthaginian war, acquired fame as valiant men, not as good men: but those who had lived before them acquired glory as valiant and good men: which results from the fact that these latter did not take up the practice of war as their profession; and those whom I named first as those who employed it as their profession. And while the Republic lived immaculately, no great citizen ever presumed by means of such a practice to enrich himself during (periods of) peace by breaking laws, despoiling the provinces, usurping and tyrannizing the country, and imposing himself in every way; nor did anyone of the lowest fortune think of violating the sacred agreement, adhere himself to any private individual, not fearing the Senate, or to perform any disgraceful act of tyranny in order to live at all times by the profession of war. But those who were Captains, being content with the triumph, returned with a desire for the private life; and those who were members (of the army) returned with a desire to lay down the arms they had taken up; and everyone returned to the art (trade or profession) by which they ordinarily lived; nor was there ever anyone who hoped to provide for himself by plunder and by means of these arts. A clear and evident example of this as it applies to great citizens can be found in the Regent Attilio, who, when he was captain of the Roman armies in Africa, and having almost defeated the Carthaginians, asked the Senate for permission to return to his house to look after his farms which were being spoiled by his laborers. Whence it is clearer than the sun, that if that man had practiced war as his profession, and by means of it thought to obtain some advantage for himself, having so many provinces which (he could) plunder, he would not have asked permission to return to take care of his fields, as each day he could have obtained more than the value of all his possessions. But as these good men, who do not practice war as their profession, do not expect to gain anything from it except hard work, danger, and glory, as soon as they are sufficiently glorious, desire to return to their homes and live from the practice of their own profession. As to men of lower status and gregarious soldiers, it is also true that every one voluntarily withdrew from such a practice, for when he was not fighting would have desired to fight, but when he was fighting wanted to be dismissed. Which illustrates the many ways, and especially in seeing that it was among the first privileges, that the Roman people gave to one of its Citizens, that he should not be constrained unwillingly to fight. Rome, therefore, while she was well organized ((which it was up to the time of the Gracchi)) did not have one soldier who had to take up this practice as a profession, and therefore had few bad ones, and these were severely punished. A well ordered City, therefore, ought to desire that this training for war ought to be employed in times of peace as an exercise, and in times of war as a necessity and for glory, and allow the public only to use it as a profession, as Rome did. And any citizen who has other aims in (using) such exercises is not good, and any City which governs itself otherwise, is not well ordered.

COSIMO

I am very much content and satisfied with what you have said up to now, and this conclusion which you have made pleases me greatly: and I believe it will be true when expected from a Republic, but as to Kings, I do not yet know why I should believe that a King would not want particularly to have around him those who take up such a practice as their profession.

FABRIZIO

A well ordered Kingdom ought so much the more avoid such artifices, for these only are the things which corrupt the King and all the Ministers in a Tyranny. And do not, on the other side, tell me of some present Kingdom, for I will not admit them to be all well ordered Kingdoms; for Kingdoms that are well ordered do not give absolute (power to) Rule to their Kings, except in the armies, for only there is a quick decision necessary, and, therefore, he who (rules) there must have this unique power: in other matters, he cannot do anything without counsel, and those who counsel him have to fear those whom he may have near him who, in times of peace, desire war because they are unable to live without it. But I want to dwell a little longer on this subject, and look for a Kingdom totally good, but similar to those that exist today, where those who take up the profession of war for themselves still ought to be feared by the King, for the sinews of armies without any doubt are the infantry. So that if a King does not organize himself in such a way that his infantry in time of peace are content to return to their homes and live from the practice of their own professions, it must happen of necessity that he will be ruined; for there is not to be found a more dangerous infantry than that which is composed of those who make the waging of war their profession; for you are forced to make war always, or pay them always, or to risk the danger that they take away the Kingdom from you. To make war always is not possible: (and) one cannot pay always; and, hence, that danger is run of losing the State. My Romans ((as I have said)), as long as they were wise and good, never permitted that their citizens should take up this practice as their profession, notwithstanding that they were able to raise them at all times, for they made war at all times: but in order to avoid the harm which this continuous practice of theirs could do to them, since the times did not change, they changed the men, and kept turning men over in their legions so that every fifteen years they always completely re-manned them: and thus they desired men in the flower of their age, which is from eighteen to thirty five years, during which time their legs, their hands, and their eyes, worked together, nor did they expect that their strength should decrease in them, or that malice should grow in them, as they did in corrupt times.

Ottavianus first, and then Tiberius, thinking more of their own power than the public usefulness, in order to rule over the Roman people more easily, begun to disarm them and to keep the same armies continually at the frontiers of the Empire. And because they did not think it sufficient to hold the Roman People and the Senate in check, they instituted an army called the Praetorian (Guard), which was kept near the walls of Rome in a fort adjacent to that City. And as they now begun freely to permit men assigned to the army to practice military matters as their profession, there soon resulted that these men became insolent, and they became formidable to the Senate and damaging to the Emperor. Whence there resulted that many men were killed because of their insolence, for they gave the Empire and took it away from anyone they wished, and it often occurred that at one time there were many Emperors created by the several armies. From which state of affairs proceeded first the division of the Empire and finally its ruin. Kings ought, therefore, if they want to live securely, have their infantry composed of men, who, when it is necessary for him to wage war, will willingly go forth to it for love of him, and afterwards when peace comes, more willingly return to their homes; which will always happen if he selects men who know how to live by a profession other than this. And thus he ought to desire, with the coming of peace, that his Princes return to governing their people, gentlemen to the cultivation of their possessions, and the infantry to their particular arts (trades or professions); and everyone of these will willingly make war in order to have peace, and will not seek to disturb the peace to have war.

COSIMO

Truly, this reasoning of yours appears to me well considered: none the less, as it is almost contrary to what I have thought up to now, my mind is not yet purged of every doubt. For I see many Lords and Gentlemen who provide for themselves in times of peace through the training for war, as do your equals who obtain provisions from Princes and the Community. I also see almost all the men at arms remaining in the garrisons of the city and of the fortresses. So that it appears to me that there is a long time of peace for everyone.

FABRIZIO

I do not believe that you believe this, that everyone has a place in time of peace; for other reasons can be cited for their being stationed there, and the small number of people who remain in the places mentioned by you will answer your question. What is the proportion of infantry needed to be employed in time of war to that in peace? for while the fortresses and the city are garrisoned in times of peace, they are much more garrisoned in times of war; to this should be added the soldiers kept in the field who are a great number, but all of whom are released in time of peace. And concerning the garrisons of States, who are a small number, Pope Julius and you have shown how much they are to be feared who do not know any other profession than war, as you have taken them out of your garrisons because of their insolence, and placed the Swiss there, who are born and raised under the laws and are chosen by the community in an honest election; so do not say further that in peace there is a place for every man. As to the men at arms continued in their enlistment in peace time, the answer appears more difficult. None the less, whoever considers everything well, will easily find the answer, for this thing of keeping on the men at arms is a corrupt thing and not good. The reason is this; as there are men who do not have any art (trade or profession), a thousand evils will arise every day in those States where they exist, and especially so if they were to be joined by a great number of companions: but as they are few, and unable by themselves to constitute an army, they therefore, cannot do any serious damage. None the less, they have done so many times, as I said of Francesco and of Sforza, his father, and of Braccio of Perugia. So I do not approve of this custom of keeping men at arms, both because it is corrupt and because it can cause great evils.

COSIMO

Would you do without them?, or if you keep them, how would you do so?

FABRIZIO

By means of an ordinance, not like those of the King of France, because they are as dangerous and insolent as ours, but like those of the ancients, who created horsemen (cavalry) from their subjects, and in times of peace sent them back to their homes to live from the practice of their own profession, as I shall discuss at length before I finish this discussion. So, if this part of the army can now live by such a practice even when there is peace, it stems from a corrupt order. As to the provisions that are reserved for me and the other leaders, I say to you that this likewise is a most corrupt order, for a wise Republic ought not to give them to anyone, rather it ought to employ its citizens as leaders in war, and in time of peace desire that they return to their professions. Thus also, a wise King ought not to give (provisions) to them, or if he does give them, the reasons ought to be either as a reward for some excellent act, or in order to avail himself of such a man in peace as well as in war. And because you have mentioned me, I want the example to include me, and I say I have never practiced war as a profession, for my profession is to govern my subjects, and defend them, and in order to defend them, I must love peace but know how to make war; and my King does not reward and esteem me so much for what I know of war, as because I know also how to counsel him in peace. Any King ought not, therefore, to want to have next to him anyone who is not thusly constituted, if he is wise and wants to govern prudently; for if he has around him either too many lovers of peace or too many lovers of war, they will cause him to err. I cannot, in this first discussion of mine and according to my suggestion, say otherwise, and if this is not enough for you, you must seek one which satisfies you better. You can begin to recognize how much difficulty there is in bringing the ancient methods into modern wars, and what preparations a wise man must make, and what opportunities he can hope for to put them into execution. But little by little you will know these things better if the discussion on bringing any part of the ancient institutions to the present order of things does not weary you.

COSIMO

If we first desired to hear your discussion of these matters, truly what you have said up to now redoubles that desire. We thank you, therefore, for what we have had and ask you for the rest.

FABRIZIO

Since this is your pleasure, I want to begin to treat of this matter from the beginning being able in that way to demonstrate it more fully, so that it may be better understood. The aim of those who want to make war is to be able to combat in the field with every (kind) of enemy, and to be able to win the engagement. To want to do this, they must raise an army. In raising an army, it is necessary to find men, arm them, organize them, train them in small and large (battle) orders, lodge them, and expose them to the enemy afterwards, either at a standstill or while marching. All the industry of war in the field is placed in these things, which are the more necessary and honored (in the waging of war). And if one does well in offering battle to the enemy, all the other errors he may make in the conduct of the war are supportable: but if he lacks this organization, even though he be valiant in other particulars, he will never carry on a war to victory (and honor). For, as one engagement that you win cancels out every other bad action of yours, so likewise, when you lose one, all the things you have done well before become useless. Since it is necessary, therefore, first to find men, you must come to the Deletto (Draft) of them, as thus the ancients called it, and which we call Scelta (Selection): but in order to call it by a more honored name, I want us to preserve the name of Deletto. Those who have drawn up regulations for war want men to be chosen from temperate countries as they have spirit and are prudent; for warm countries give rise to men who are prudent but not spirited, and cold (countries) to men who are spirited but not prudent. This regulation is drawn up well for one who is the Prince of all the world, and is therefore permitted to draw men from those places that appear best to him: but wanting to draw up a regulation that anyone can use, one must say that every Republic and every Kingdom ought to take soldiers from their own country, whether it is hot, cold, or temperate. For, from ancient examples, it is seen that in every country, good soldiers are made by training; because where nature is lacking, industry supplies it, which, in this case, is worth more than nature: And selecting them from another place cannot be called Deletto, because Deletto means to say to take the best of a province, and to have the power to select as well those who do not want to fight as those who do want to. This Deletto therefore, cannot be made unless the places are subject to you; for you cannot take whoever you want in the countries that are not yours, but you need to take those who want to come.

COSIMO

And of those who want to come, it can even be said, that they turn and leave you, and because of this, it can then be called a Deletto.

FABRIZIO

In a certain way, you say what is true: but consider the defects that such as Deletto has in itself, for often it happens that it is not a Deletto. The first thing (to consider), is that those who are not your subjects and do not willingly want to fight, are not of the best, rather they are of the worst of a province; for if nay are troublesome, idle, without restraint, without religion, subject to the rule of the father, blasphemous, gamblers, and in every way badly brought up, they are those who want to fight, (and) these habits cannot be more contrary to a true and good military life. When there are so many of such men offered to you that they exceed the number you had designated, you can select them; but if the material is bad, it is impossible for the Deletto to be good: but many times it happens that they are not so many as (are needed) to fill the number you require: so that being forced to take them all, it results that it can no longer be called the making of a Deletto, but in enlisting of infantry. The armies of Italy and other places are raised today with these evils, except in Germany, where no one is enlisted by command of the Prince, but according to the wishes of those who want to fight. Think, therefore, what methods of those ancients can now be introduced in an army of men put together by similar means.

COSIMO

What means should be taken therefore?

FABRIZIO

What I have just said: select them from your own subjects, and with the authority of the Prince.

COSIMO

Would you introduce any ancient form in those thus selected?

FABRIZIO

You know well it would be so; if it is a Principality, he who should command should be their Prince or an ordinary Lord; or if it is a Republic, a citizen who for the time should be Captain: otherwise it is difficult to do the thing well.

COSIMO

Why?

FABRIZIO

I will tell you in time: for now, I want this to suffice for you, that it cannot be done well in any other way.

COSIMO

If you have, therefore, to make ibis Deletto in your country, whence do you judge it better to draw them, from the City or the Countryside?

FABRIZIO

Those who have written of this all agree that it is better to select them from the Countryside, as they are men accustomed to discomfort, brought up on hard work, accustomed to be in the sun and avoid the shade, know how to handle the sword, dig a ditch, carry a load, and are without cunning or malice. But on this subject, my opinion would be, that as soldiers are of two kinds, afoot and on horseback, that those afoot be selected from the Countryside, and those on horseback from the City.

COSIMO

Of what age would you draw them?

FABRIZIO

If I had to raise an (entirely) new army, I would draw them from seventeen to forty years of age; if the army already exists and I had to replenish it, at seventeen years of age always.

COSIMO

I do not understand this distinction well.

FABRIZIO

I will tell you: if I should have to organize an army where there is none, it would be necessary to select all those men who were more capable, as long as they were of military age, in order to instruct them as I would tell them: but if I should have to make the Deletto in places where the army was (already) organized, in order to supplement it, I would take those of seventeen years of age, because the others having been taken for some time would have been selected and instructed.

COSIMO

Therefore you would want to make an ordinance similar to that which exists in our countries.

FABRIZIO

You say well: it is true that I would arm them, captain them, train them, and organize them, in a way which I do not know whether or not you have organized them similarly.

COSIMO

Therefore you praise the ordinance?

FABRIZIO

Why would you want me to condemn it?

COSIMO

Because many wise men have censured it.

FABRIZIO

You say something contrary, when you say a wise man censured the ordinance: for he can be held a wise man and to have censured them wrongly.

COSIMO

The wrong conclusion that he has made will always cause us to have such a opinion.

FABRIZIO

Watch out that the defect is not yours, but his: as that which you recognized before this discussion furnishes proof.

COSIMO

You do a most gracious thing. But I want to tell you that you should be able to justify yourself better in that of which those men are accused. These men say thusly: either that it is useless and our trusting in it will cause us to lose the State: or it is of virtue, and he who governs through it can easily deprive her of it. They cite the Romans, who by their own arms lost their liberty: They cite the Venetians and the King of France, of whom they say that the former, in order not to obey one of its Citizens employed the arms of others, and the King disarmed his People so as to be able to command them more easily. But they fear the uselessness of this much more; for which uselessness they cite two principal reasons: the one, because they are inexpert; the other, for having to fight by force: because they say that they never learn anything from great men, and nothing good is ever done by force.

FABRIZIO

All the reasons that you mention are from men who are not far sighted, as I shall clearly show. And first, as to the uselessness, I say to you that no army is of more use than your own, nor can an army of your own be organized except in this way. And as there is no debating over this, which all the examples of ancient history does for us, I do not want to lose time over it. And because they cite inexperience and force, I say ((as it is true)) that inept experience gives rise to little spirit (enthusiasm) and force makes for discontent: but experience and enthusiasm gains for themselves the means for arming, training, and organizing them, as you will see in the first part of this discussion. But as to force, you must understand that as men are brought to the army by commandment of the Prince, they have to come, whether it is entirely by force or entirely voluntarily: for if it were entirely from desire, there would not be a Deletto as only a few of them would go; so also, the (going) entirely by force would produce bad results; therefore, a middle way ought to be taken where neither the entirely forced or entirely voluntarily (means are used), but they should come, drawn by the regard they have for the Prince, where they are more afraid of of his anger then the immediate punishment: and it will always happen that there will be a compulsion mixed with willingness, from which that discontent cannot arise which causes bad effects. Yet I do not claim that an army thus constituted cannot be defeated; for many times the Roman armies were overcome, and the army of Hannibal was defeated: so that it can be seen that no army can be so organized that a promise can be given that it cannot be routed. These wise men of yours, therefore, ought not measure this uselessness from having lost one time, but to believe that just as they can lose, so too they can win and remedy the cause of the defeat. And if they should look into this, they will find that it would not have happened because of a defect in the means, but of the organization which was not sufficiently perfect. And, as I have said, they ought to provide for you, not by censuring the organization, but by correcting it: as to how this ought to be done, you will come to know little by little.

As to being apprehensive that such organization will not deprive you of the State by one who makes himself a leader, I reply, that the arms carried by his citizens or subjects, given to them by laws and ordinances, never do him harm, but rather are always of some usefulness, and preserve the City uncorrupted for a longer time by means of these (arms), than without (them). Rome remained free four hundred years while armed: Sparta eight hundred: Many other Cities have been dis-armed, and have been free less than forty years; for Cities have need of arms, and if they do not have arms of their own, they hire them from foreigners, and the arms of foreigners more readily do harm to the public good than their own; for they are easier to corrupt, and a citizen who becomes powerful can more readily avail himself, and can also manage the people more readily as he has to oppress men who are disarmed. In addition to this, a City ought to fear two enemies more than one. One which avails itself of foreigners immediately has to fear not only its citizens, but the foreigners that it enlists; and, remembering what I told you a short while ago of Francesco Sforza, (you will see that) that fear ought to exist. One which employs its own arms, has not other fear except of its own Citizens. But of all the reasons which can be given, I want this one to serve me, that no one ever established any Republic or Kingdom who did not think that it should be defended by those who lived there with arms: and if the Venetians had been as wise in this as in their other institutions, they would have created a new world Kingdom; but who so much more merit censure, because they had been the first who were armed by their founders. And not having dominion on land, they armed themselves on the sea, where they waged war with virtu, and with arms in hand enlarged their country. But when the time came when they had to wage war on land to defend Venice and where they ought to have sent their own citizens to fight (on land), they enlisted as their captain (a foreigner), the Marquis of Mantua. This was the sinister course which prevented them from rising to the skies and expanding. And they did this in the belief that, as they knew how to wage war at sea, they should not trust themselves in waging it on land; which was an unwise belief (distrust), because a Sea captain, who is accustomed to combat with winds, water, and men, could more easily become a Captain on land where the combat is with men only, than a land Captain become a sea one. And my Romans, knowing how to combat on land and not on the sea, when the war broke out with the Carthaginians who were powerful on the sea, did not enlist Greeks or Spaniards experienced at sea, but imposed that change on those citizens they sent (to fight) on land, and they won. If they did this in order that one of their citizens should not become Tyrant, it was a fear that was given little consideration; for, in addition to the other reasons mentioned a short while ago concerning such a proposal, if a citizen (skilled) in (the use of) arms at sea had never been made a Tyrant in a City situated in the sea, so much less would he be able to do this if he were (skilled) in (the use of arms) on land. And, because of this, they ought to have seen that arms in the hands of their own citizens could not create Tyrants, but the evil institutions of a Government are those which cause a City to be tyrannized; and, as they had a good Government, did not have to fear arms of their own citizens. They took an imprudent course, therefore, which was the cause of their being deprived of much glory and happiness. As to the error which the King of France makes in not having his people disciplined to war, from what has been cited from examples previously mentioned, there is no one ((devoid of some particular passion of theirs)) who does not judge this defect to be in the Republic, and that this negligence alone is what makes it weak. But I have made too great a digression and have gotten away from my subject: yet I have done this to answer you and to show you, that no reliance can be had on arms other than ones own, and ones own arms cannot be established otherwise than by way of an ordinance, nor can forms of armies be introduced in any place, nor military discipline instituted. If you have read the arrangements which the first Kings made in Rome, and most especially of Servius Tullus, you will find that the institution of classes is none other than an arrangement to be able quickly to put together an army for the defense of that City. But turning to our Deletto, I say again, that having to replenish an established (old) organization, I would take the seventeen year olds, but having to create a new one, I would take them of every age between seventeen and forty in order to avail myself of them quickly.

COSIMO

Would you make a difference of what profession (art) you would choose them from?

FABRIZIO

These writers do so, for they do not want that bird hunters, fishermen, cooks, procurers, and anyone who makes amusement his calling should be taken, but they want that, in addition to tillers of the soil, smiths and blacksmiths, carpenters, butchers, hunters, and such like, should be taken. But I would make little difference in conjecturing from his calling how good the man may be, but how much I can use him with the greatest usefulness. And for this reason, the peasants, who are accustomed to working the land, are more useful than anyone else, for of all the professions (arts), this one is used more than any other in the army: After this, are the forgers (smiths), carpenters, blacksmiths, shoemakers; of whom it is useful to have many, for their skills succeed in many things, as they are a very good thing for a soldier to have, from whom you draw double service.

COSIMO

How are those who are or are not suitable to fight chosen?

FABRIZIO

I want to talk of the manner of selecting a new organization in order to make it after wards into an army; which yet also apply in the discussion of the selection that should be made in re-manning an old (established) organization. I say, therefore, that how good the man is that you have to select as a soldier is recognized either from his experience, shown by some excellent deeds of his, or by conjecture. The proof of virtu cannot be found in men who are newly selected, and who never before have been selected; and of the former, few or none are found in an organization which is newly established. It is necessary, therefore, lacking experience to have recourse to conjecture, which is derived from their age, profession, and physical appearance. The first two have been discussed: it remains to talk of the third. And yet I say that some have wanted that the soldier be big, among whom was Pyrrhus: Some others have chosen them only from the strength of the body, as Caesar did: which strength of body is conjectured from the composition of the members and the gracefulness of aspect. And yet some of those who write say that he should have lively and merry eyes, a nervy neck, a large breast, muscular arms, long fingers, a small stomach, round hips, sleek legs and feet: which parts usually render a man strong and agile, which are the two things sought above everything else in a soldier. He ought, above all, to have regard for his habits and that there should be in him a (sense of) honesty and shame, otherwise there will be selected only an instrument of trouble and a beginning of corruption; for there is no one who believes that in a dishonest education and in a brutish mind, there can exist some virtu which in some part may be praiseworthy. Nor does it appear to me superfluous, rather I believe it necessary, in order for you to understand better the importance of this selection, to tell you the method that the Roman Consuls at the start of their Magistracy observed in selecting the Roman legions. In which Deletto, because those who had to be selected were to be a mixture of new and veteran men ((because of the continuing wars)), they proceeded from experience with regard to the old (veteran) men, and from conjecture with regard to the new. And this ought to be noted, that these Deletti are made, either for immediate training and use, or for future employment.

I have talked, and will talk, of those that are made for future employment, because my intention is to show you how an army can be organized in countries where there is no military (organization), in which countries I cannot have Deletti in order to make use of them. But in countries where it is the custom to call out armies, and by means of the Prince, these (Deletti) exist, as was observed at Rome and is today observed among the Swiss. For in these Deletti, if they are for the (selection of) new men, there are so many others accustomed to being under military orders, that the old (veteran) and new, being mixed together, make a good and united body. Notwithstanding this, the Emperors, when they began to hold fixed the (term of service of the) soldiers, placed new men in charge over the soldiers, whom they called Tironi, as teachers to train them, as is seen in the life of the Emperor Maximus: which thing, while Rome was free, was instituted, not in the army, but within the City: and as the military exercises where the young men were trained were in the City, there resulted that those then chosen to go to war, being accustomed in the method of mock warfare, could easily adapt themselves to real war. But afterwards, when these Emperors discontinued these exercises, it was necessary to employ the methods I have described to you. Arriving, therefore, at the methods of the Roman Selection, I say that, as soon as the Roman Consuls, on whom was imposed the carrying on of the war, had assumed the Magistracy, in wanting to organize their armies ((as it was the custom that each of them had two legions of Roman men, who were the nerve (center) of their armies)), created twenty four military Tribunes, proposing six for each legion, who filled that office which today is done by those whom we call Constables. After they had assembled all the Roman men adept at carrying arms, and placed the Tribunes of each legion apart from each of the others. Afterwards, by lot they drew the Tribes, from which the first Selection was to be made, and of that Tribe they selected four of their best men, from whom one was selected by the Tribunes of the first legion, and of the other three, one was selected by the Tribunes of the second legion; of the other two, one was selected by the Tribunes of the third, and that last belonged to the fourth legion. After these four, four others were selected, of whom the first man was selected by the Tribunes of the second legion, the second by those of the third, the third by those of the fourth, the fourth remained to the first. After, another four were chosen: the first man was selected by the (Tribunes of the) third (legion), the second by the fourth, the third by the first, the fourth remained to the second. And thus this method of selection changed successively, so that the selection came to be equal, and the legions equalized. And as we said above, this was done where the men were to be used immediately: and as it was formed of men of whom a good part were experienced in real warfare, and everyone in mock battles, this Deletto was able to be based on conjecture and experience. But when a new army was to be organized and the selection made for future employment, this Deletto cannot be based except on conjecture, which is done by age and physical appearance.

COSIMO

I believe what you have said is entirely true: but before you pass on to other discussion, I want to ask about one thing which you have made me remember, when you said that the Deletto which should be made where these men are not accustomed to fighting should be done by conjecture: for I have heard our organization censured in many of its parts, and especially as to number; for many say that a lesser number ought to be taken, of whom those that are drawn would be better and the selection better, as there would not be as much hardship imposed on the men, and some reward given them, by means of which they would be more content and could be better commanded. Whence I would like to know your opinion on this part, and if you preferred a greater rather than a smaller number, and what methods you would use in selecting both numbers.

FABRIZIO

Without doubt the greater number is more desirable and more necessary than the smaller: rather, to say better, where a great number are not available, a perfect organization cannot be made, and I will easily refute all the reasons cited in favor of this. I say, therefore, first, that where there are many people, as there are for example in Tuscany, does not cause you to have better ones, or that the Deletto is more selective; for desiring in the selection of men to judge them on the basis of experience, only a very few would probably be found in that country who would have had this experience, as much because few have been in a war, as because of those few who have been, very few have ever been put to the test, so that because of this they merit to be chosen before the others: so that whoever is in a similar situation should select them, must leave experience to one side and take them by conjecture: and if I were brought to such a necessity, I would want to see, if twenty young men of good physical appearance should come before me, with what rule rule I ought to take some or reject some: so that without doubt I believe that every man will confess that it is a much smaller error to take them all in arming and training them, being unable to know (beforehand) which of them are better, and to reserve to oneself afterwards to make a more certain Deletto where, during the exercises with the army, those of greater courage and vitality may be observed. So that, considering everything, the selection in this case of a few in order to have them better, is entirely false. As to causing less hardship to the country and to the men, I say that the ordinance, whether it is bad or insufficient, does not cause any hardship: for this order does not take men away from their business, and does not bind them so that they cannot go to carry out their business, because it only obliges them to come together for training on their free days, which proposition does not do any harm either to the country or the men; rather, to the young, it ought to be delightful, for where, on holidays they remain basely indolent in their hangouts, they would now attend these exercises with pleasure, for the drawing of arms, as it is a beautiful spectacle, is thus delightful to the young men. As to being able to pay (more to) the lesser number, and thereby keeping them more content and obedient, I reply, that no organization of so few can be made, who are paid so continually, that their pay satisfies them. For instance, if an army of five thousand infantry should be organized, in wanting to pay them so that it should be believed they would be contented, they must be given at least ten thousand ducats a month. To begin with, this number of infantry is not enough to make an army, and the payment is unendurable to a State; and on the other hand, it is not sufficient to keep the men content and obligated to respect your position. So that in doing this although much would be spent, it would provide little strength, and would not be sufficient to defend you, or enable you to undertake any enterprise. If you should give them more, or take on more, so much more impossible would it be for you to pay them: if you should give them less, or take on fewer, so much less would be content and so much less useful would they be to you. Therefore, those who consider things which are either useless or impossible. But it is indeed necessary to pay them when they are levied to send to war.

But even if such an arrangement should give some hardship to those enrolled in it in times of peace, which I do not see, they are still recompensed by all those benefits which an army established in a City bring; for without them, nothing is secure. I conclude that whoever desires a small number in order to be able to pay them, or for any other reason cited by you, does not know (what he is doing); for it will also happen, in my opinion, that any number will always diminish in your hands, because of the infinite impediments that men have; so that the small number will succeed at nothing. However, when you have a large organization, you can at your election avail yourself of few or of many. In addition to this, it serves you in fact and reputation, for the large number will always give you reputation. Moreover, in creating the organization, in order to keep men trained, if you enroll a small number of men in many countries, and the armies are very distant from each other, you cannot without the gravest injury to them assemble them for (joint) exercises, and without this training the organization is useless, as will be shown in its proper place.

COSIMO

What you have said is enough on my question: but I now desire that you resolve another doubt for me. There are those who say that such a multitude of armed men would cause confusion, trouble, and disorder in the country.

FABRIZIO

This is another vain opinion for the reason I will tell you. These organized under arms can cause disorders in two ways: either among themselves, or against others; both of these can be obviated where discipline by itself should not do so: for as to troubles among themselves, the organization removes them, not brings them up, because in the organization you give them arms and leaders. If the country where you organize them is so unwarlike that there are not arms among its men, and so united that there are no leaders, such an organization will make them more ferocious against the foreigner, but in no way will make it more disunited, because men well organized, whether armed or unarmed, fear the laws, and can never change, unless the leaders you give them cause a change; and I will later tell you the manner of doing this. But if the country where you have organized an army is warlike and disunited, this organization alone is reason enough to unite them, for these men have arms and leaders for themselves: but the arms are useless for war, and the leaders causes of troubles; but this organization gives them arms useful for war, and leaders who will extinguish troubles; for as soon as some one is injured in that country, he has recourse to his (leader) of the party, who, to maintain his reputation, advises him to avenge himself, (and) not to remain in peace. The public leader does the contrary. So that by this means, the causes for trouble are removed, and replaced by those for union; and provinces which are united but effeminate (unwarlike) lose their usefulness but maintain the union, while those that are disunited and troublesome remain united; and that disordinate ferocity which they usually employ, is turned to public usefulness.

As to desiring that they do us injury against others, it should be kept in mind that they cannot do this except by the leaders who govern them. In desiring that the leaders do not cause disorders, it is necessary to have care that they do not acquire too much authority over them. And you have to keep in mind that this authority is acquired either naturally or by accident: And as to nature, it must be provided that whoever is born in one place is not put in charge of men enrolled in another place, but is made a leader in those places where he does not have any natural connections. As to accidents, the organization should be such that each year the leaders are exchanged from command to command; for continuous authority over the same men generates so much unity among them, which can easily be converted into prejudice against the Prince. As to these exchanges being useful to those who have employed them, and injurious to those who have not observed them, is known from the example of the Kingdom of Assyria and from the Empire of the Romans, in which it is seen that the former Kingdom endured a thousand years without tumult and without civil war; which did not result from anything else than the exchanges of those Captains, who were placed in charge of the care of the armies, from place to place every year. Nor, for other reasons, (did it result) in the Roman Empire; once the blood (race) of Caesar was extinguished, so many civil wars arose among the Captains of the armies, and so many conspiracies of the above mentioned Captains against the Emperors, resulting from the continuing of those Captains in their same Commands. And if any of those Emperors, and any who later held the Empire by reputation, such as Hadrian, Marcus, Severus, and others like them, would have observed such happenings, and would have introduced this custom of exchanging Captains in that Empire, without doubt they would have made it more tranquil and lasting; for the Captains would have had fewer opportunities for creating tumults, and the Emperors fewer causes to fear them, and the Senate, when there was a lack in the succession, would have had more authority in the election of Emperors, and consequently, better conditions would have resulted. But the bad customs of men, whether from ignorance or little diligence, or from examples of good or bad, are never put aside.

COSIMO

I do not know if, with my question, I have gone outside the limits you set; for from the Deletto we have entered into another discussion, and if I should not be excused a little, I shall believe I merit some reproach.

FABRIZIO

This did us no harm; for all this discussion was necessary in wanting to discuss the Organization (of an Army), which, being censured by many, it was necessary to explain it, if it is desired that this should take place before the Deletto. And before I discuss the other parts, I want to discuss the Deletto for men on horseback. This (selection) was done by the ancients from among the more wealthy, having regard both for the age and quality of the men, selecting three hundred for each legion: so that the Roman cavalry in every Consular army did not exceed six hundred.

COSIMO

Did you organize the cavalry in order to train them at home and avail yourself of them in the future?

FABRIZIO

Actually it is a necessity and cannot be done otherwise, if you want to have them take up arms for you, and not to want to take them away from those who make a profession of them.

COSIMO

How would you select them?

FABRIZIO

I would imitate the Romans: I would take the more wealthy, and give them leaders in the same manner as they are given to others today, and I would arm them, and train them.

COSIMO

Would it be well to give these men some provision?

FABRIZIO

Yes, indeed: but only as much as is necessary to take care of the horse; for, as it brings an expense to your subjects, they could complain of you. It would be necessary, therefore, to pay them for the horse and its upkeep.

COSIMO

How many would you make? How would you arm them?

FABRIZIO

You pass into another discussion. I will tell you in its place, which will be when I have said how the infantry ought to be armed, and how they should prepare for an engagement.

BOOK II.

I believe that it is necessary, once the men are found, to arm them; and in wanting to do this, I believe it is necessary to examine what arms the ancients used, and from them select the best. The Romans divided their infantry into the heavily and lightly armed. The light armed they gave the name Veliti. Under this name they included all those who operated with the sling, cross-bow, and darts: and the greater part of them carried a helmet (head covering) and a shield on the arm for their defense. These men fought outside the regular ranks, and apart from the heavy armor, which was a Casque that came up to the shoulders, they also carried a Cuirass which, with the skirt, came down to the knees, and their arms and legs were covered by shin-guards and bracelets; they also carried a shield on the arm, two arms in length and one in width, which had an iron hoop on it to be able to sustain a blow, and another underneath, so that in rubbing on the ground, it should not be worn out. For attacking, they had cinched on their left side a sword of an arm and a half length, and a dagger on the right side. They carried a spear, which they called Pilus, and which they hurled at the enemy at the start of a battle. These were the important Roman arms, with which they conquered the world. And although some of the ancient writers also gave them, in addition to the aforementioned arms, a shaft in the hand in the manner of a spit, I do not know how a staff can be used by one who holds a shield, for in managing it with two hands it is impeded by the shield, and he cannot do anything worthwhile with one hand because of its heaviness. In addition to this, to combat in the ranks with the staff (as arms) is useless, except in the front rank where there is ample space to deploy the entire staff, which cannot be done in the inner ranks, because the nature of the battalions ((as I will tell you in their organization)) is to press its ranks continually closer together, as this is feared less, even though inconvenient, than for the ranks to spread further apart, where the danger is most apparent. So that all the arms which exceed two arms in length are useless in tight places; for if you have a staff and want to use it with both hands, and handled so that the shield should not annoy you, you cannot attack an enemy with it who is next to you. If you take it in one hand in order to serve yourself of the shield, you cannot pick it up except in the middle, and there remains so much of the staff in the back part, that those who are behind impede you in using it. And that this is true, that the Romans did not have the staff, or, having it, they valued it little, you will read in all the engagements noted by Titus Livius in his history, where you will see that only very rarely is mention made of the shaft, rather he always says that, after hurling the spears, they put their hands on the sword. Therefore I want to leave this staff, and relate how much the Romans used the sword for offense, and for defense, the shield together with the other arms mentioned above.

The Greeks did not arm so heavily for defense as did the Romans, but in the offense relied more on this staff than on the sword, and especially the Phalanxes of Macedonia, who carried staffs which they called Sarisse, a good ten arms in length, with which they opened the ranks of the enemy and maintained order in the Phalanxes. And although other writers say they also had a shield, I do not know ((for the reasons given above)) how the Sarisse and the shield could exist together. In addition to this, in the engagement that Paulus Emilius had with Perseus, King of Macedonia, I do not remember mention being made of shields, but only of the Sarisse and the difficulty the Romans had in overcoming them. So that I conjecture that a Macedonian Phalanx was nothing else than a battalion of Swiss is today, who have all their strength and power in their pikes. The Romans ((in addition to the arms)) ornamented the infantry with plumes; which things make the sight of an army beautiful to friends, and terrible to the enemy. The arms for men on horseback in the original ancient Roman (army) was a round shield, and they had the head covered, but the rest (of the body) without armor. They had a sword and a staff with an iron point, long and thin; whence they were unable to hold the shield firm, and only make weak movements with the staff, and because they had no armor, they were exposed to wounds. Afterwards, with time, they were armed like the infantry, but the shield was much smaller and square, and the staff more solid and with two iron tips, so that if the one side was encumbered, they could avail themselves of the other. With these arms, both for the infantry and the cavalry, my Romans occupied all the world, and it must be believed, from the fruits that are observed, that they were the best armed armies that ever existed.

And Titus Livius, in his histories, gives many proofs, where, in coming to the comparison with enemy armies, he says, “but the Romans were superior in virtu, kinds of arms, and discipline”. And, therefore, I have discussed more in particular the arms of the victors than those of the losers. It appears proper to me to discuss only the present methods of arming. The infantry have for their defense a breast plate of iron, and for offense a lance nine armlengths long, which they call a pike, and a sword at their side, rather round in the point than sharp. This is the ordinary armament of the infantry today, for few have their arms and shins (protected by) armor, no one the head; and those few carry a halberd in place of a pike, the shaft of which ((as you know)) is three armlengths long, and has the iron attached as an axe. Among them they have three Scoppettieri (Exploders, i.e., Gunners), who, with a burst of fire fill that office which anciently was done by slingers and bow-men. This method of arming was established by the Germans, and especially by the Swiss, who, being poor and wanting to live in freedom, were, and are, obliged to combat with the ambitions of the Princes of Germany, who were rich and could raise horses, which that people could not do because of poverty: whence it happened that being on foot and wanting to defend themselves from enemies who were on horseback, it behooved them to search the ancient orders and find arms which should defend them from the fury of horses. This necessity has caused them to maintain or rediscover the ancient orders, without which, as every prudent man affirms, the infantry is entirely useless. They therefore take up pikes as arms, which are most useful not only in sustaining (the attacks of) horses, but to overcome them. And because of the virtu of these arms and ancient orders, the Germans have assumed so much audacity, that fifteen or twenty thousand of them would assault any great number of horse, and there have been many examples of this seen in the last twenty five years. And this example of their virtu founded on these arms and these orders have been so powerful, that after King Charles passed into Italy, every nation has imitated them: so that the Spanish armies have come into a very great reputation.

COSIMO

What method of arms do you praise more, this German one or the ancient Roman?

FABRIZIO

The Roman without any doubt, and I will tell you the good and the bad of one and the other. The German infantry can sustain and overcome the cavalry. They are more expeditious in marching and in organizing themselves, because they are not burdened with arms. On the other hand, they are exposed to blows from near and far because of being unarmed. They are useless in land battles and in every fight where there is stalwart resistance. But the Romans sustained and overcame the cavalry, as these (Germans) do. They were safe from blows near and far because they were covered with armor. They were better able to attack and sustain attacks having the shields. They could more actively in tight places avail themselves of the sword than these (Germans) with the pike; and even if the latter had the sword, being without a shield, they become, in such a case, (equally) useless. They (the Romans) could safely assault towns, having the body covered, and being able to cover it even better with the shield. So that they had no other inconvenience than the heaviness of the arms (armor) and the annoyance of having to carry them; which inconveniences they overcame by accustoming the body to hardships and inducing it to endure hard work. And you know we do not suffer from things to which we are accustomed. And you must understand this, that the infantry must be able to fight with infantry and cavalry, and those are always useless who cannot sustain the (attacks of the) cavalry, or if they are able to sustain them, none the less have fear of infantry who are better armed and organized than they. Now if you will consider the German and the Roman infantry, you will find in the German ((as we have said)) the aptitude of overcoming cavalry, but great disadvantages when fighting with an infantry organized as they are, and armed as the Roman. So that there will be this advantage of the one over the other, that the Romans could overcome both the infantry and the cavalry, and the Germans only the cavalry.

COSIMO

I would desire that you give some more particular example, so that we might understand it better.

FABRIZIO

I say thusly, that in many places in our histories you will find the Roman infantry to have defeated numberless cavalry, but you will never find them to have been defeated by men on foot because of some defect they may have had in their arms or because of some advantage the enemy had in his. For if their manner of arming had been defective, it was necessary for them to follow one of two courses: either when they found one who was better armed than they, not to go on further with the conquest, or that they take up the manner of the foreigner, and leave off theirs: and since neither ensued, there follows, what can be easily conjectured, that this method of arming was better than that of anyone else. This has not yet occurred with the German infantry; for it has been seen that anytime they have had to combat with men on foot organized and as obstinate as they, they have made a bad showing; which results from the disadvantage they have in trying themselves against the arms of the enemy. When Filippo Visconti, Duke of Milan, was assaulted by eighteen thousand Swiss, he sent against them Count Carmingnuola, who was his Captain at that time. This man with six thousand cavalry and a few infantry went to encounter them, and, coming hand to hand with them, was repulsed with very great damage. Whence Carmingnuola as a prudent man quickly recognized the power of the enemy arms, and how much they prevailed against cavalry, and the weakness of cavalry against those on foot so organized; and regrouping his forces, again went to meet the Swiss, and as they came near he made his men-at-arms descend from their horses, and in that manner fought with them, and killed all but three thousand, who, seeing themselves consumed without having any remedy, threw their arms on the ground and surrendered.

COSIMO

Whence arises such a disadvantage?

FABRIZIO

I have told you a little while ago, but since you have not understood it, I will repeat it to you. The German infantry ((as was said a little while ago)) has almost no armor in defending itself, and use pikes and swords for offense. They come with these arms and order of battle to meet the enemy, who ((if he is well equipped with armor to defend himself, as were the men-at-arms of Carmingnuola who made them descend to their feet)) comes with his sword and order of battle to meet him, and he has no other difficulty than to come near the Swiss until he makes contact with them with the sword; for as soon as he makes contact with them, he combats them safely, for the German cannot use the pike against the enemy who is next to him because of the length of the staff, so he must use the sword, which is useless to him, as he has no armor and has to meet an enemy that is (protected) fully by armor. Whence, whoever considers the advantages and disadvantages of one and the other, will see that the one without armor has no remedy, but the one well armored will have no difficulty in overcoming the first blow and the first passes of the pike: for in battles, as you will understand better when I have demonstrated how they are put together, the men go so that of necessity they accost each other in a way that they are attacked on the breast, and if one is killed or thrown to the ground by the pike, those on foot who remain are so numerous that they are sufficient for victory. From this there resulted that Carmingnuola won with such a massacre of the Swiss, and with little loss to himself.

COSIMO

I see that those with Carmingnuola were men-at-arms, who, although they were on foot, were all covered with iron (armor), and, therefore, could make the attempt that they made; so that I think it would be necessary to arm the infantry in the same way if they want to make a similar attempt.

FABRIZIO

If you had remembered how I said the Romans were armed, you would not think this way. For an infantryman who has his head covered with iron, his breast protected by a cuirass and a shield, his arms and legs with armor, is much more apt to defend himself from pikes, and enter among them, than is a man-at-arms (cavalryman) on foot. I want to give you a small modern example. The Spanish infantry had descended from Sicily into the Kingdom of Naples in order to go and meet Consalvo who was besieged in Barletta by the French. They came to an encounter against Monsignor D’Obigni with his men-at-arms, and with about four thousand German infantry. The Germans, coming hand to hand with their pikes low, penetrated the (ranks of the) Spanish infantry; but the latter, aided by their spurs and the agility of their bodies, intermingled themselves with the Germans, so that they (the Germans) could not get near them with their swords; whence resulted the death of almost all of them, and the victory of the Spaniards. Everyone knows how many German infantry were killed in the engagement at Ravenna, which resulted from the same causes, for the Spanish infantry got as close as the reach of their swords to the German infantry, and would have destroyed all of them, if the German infantry had not been succored by the French Cavalry: none the less, the Spaniards pressing together made themselves secure in that place. I conclude, therefore, that a good infantry not only is able to sustain the (attack) of cavalry, but does not have fear of infantry, which ((as I have said many times)) proceeds from its arms (armor) and organization (discipline).

COSIMO

Tell us, therefore, how you would arm them.

FABRIZIO

I would take both the Roman arms and the German, and would want half to be armed as the Romans, and the other half as the Germans. For, if in six thousand infantry ((as I shall explain a little later)) I should have three thousand infantry with shields like the Romans, and two thousand pikes and a thousand gunners like the Germans, they would be enough for me; for I would place the pikes either in the front lines of the battle, or where I should fear the cavalry most; and of those with the shield and the sword, I would serve myself to back up the pikes and to win the engagement, as I will show you. So that I believe that an infantry so organized should surpass any other infantry today.

COSIMO

What you have said to us is enough as regards infantry, but as to cavalry, we desire to learn which seems the more strongly armed to you, ours or that of the ancients?

FABRIZIO

I believe in these times, with respect to saddles and stirrups not used by the ancients, one stays more securely on the horse than at that time. I believe we arm more securely: so that today one squadron of very heavily (armed) men-at-arms comes to be sustained with much more difficulty than was the ancient cavalry. With all of this, I judge, none the less, that no more account ought to be taken of the cavalry than was taken anciently; for ((as has been said above)) they have often in our times been subjected to disgrace by the infantry armed (armored) and organized as (described) above. Tigranus, King of Armenia, came against the Roman army of which Lucullus was Captain, with (an army) of one hundred fifty thousand cavalry, among whom were many armed as our men-at-arms, whom they called Catafratti, while on the other side the Romans did not total more than six thousand (cavalry) and fifteen thousand infantry; so that Tigranus, when he saw the army of the enemy, said: “These are just about enough horsemen for an embassy”. None the less, when they came to battle, he was routed; and he who writes of that battle blames those Catafratti, showing them to be useless, because, he says, that having their faces covered, their vision was impaired and they were little adept at seeing and attacking the enemy, and as they were heavily burdened by the armor, they could not regain their feet when they fell, nor in any way make use of their persons. I say, therefore, that those People or Kingdoms which esteem the cavalry more than the infantry, are always weaker and more exposed to complete ruin, as has been observed in Italy in our times, which has been plundered, ruined, and overrun by foreigners, not for any other fault than because they had paid little attention to the foot soldiers and had mounted all their soldiers on horses. Cavalry ought to be used, but as a second and not the first reliance of an army; for they are necessary and most useful in undertaking reconnaissance, in overrunning and despoiling the enemy country, and to keep harassing and troubling the enemy army so as to keep it continually under arms, and to impede its provisions; but as to engagements and battles in the field, which are the important things in war and the object for which armies are organized, they are more useful in pursuing than in routing the enemy, and are much more inferior to the foot soldier in accomplishing the things necessary in accomplishing such (defeats).

COSIMO

But two doubts occur to me: the one, that I know that the Parthians did not engage in war except with cavalry, yet they divided the world with the Romans: the other, that I would like you to tell me how the (attack of) the cavalry can be sustained by the infantry, and whence arises the virtu of the latter and the weakness of the former?

FABRIZIO

Either I have told you, or I meant to tell you, that my discussion on matters of war is not going beyond the limits of Europe. Since this is so, I am not obliged to give reasons for that which is the custom in Asia. Yet, I have this to say, that the army of Parthia was completely opposite to that of the Romans, as the Parthians fought entirely on horseback, and in the fighting was about confused and disrupted, and was a way of fighting unstable and full of uncertainties. The Romans, it may be recalled, were almost all on foot, and fought pressed closely together, and at various times one won over the other, according as the site (of the battle) was open or tight; for in the latter the Romans were superior, but in the former the Parthians, who were able to make a great trial with that army with respect to the region they had to defend, which was very open with a seacoast a thousand miles distant, rivers two or three days (journey) apart from each other, towns likewise, and inhabitants rare: so that a Roman army, heavy and slow because of its arms and organization, could not pursue him without suffering great harm, because those who defended the country were on horses and very speedy, so that he would be in one place today, and tomorrow fifty miles distant. Because of this, the Parthians were able to prevail with cavalry alone, and thus resulted the ruin of the army of Crassus, and the dangers to those of Marcantonio. But ((as I have said)) I did not intend in this discussion of mine to speak of armies outside of Europe; and, therefore, I want to continue on those which the Romans and Greeks had organized in their time, and that the Germans do today.

But let us come to the other question of yours, in which you desire to know what organization or what natural virtu causes the infantry to be superior to the cavalry. And I tell you, first, that the horses cannot go in all the places that the infantry do, because it is necessary for them either to turn back after they have come forward, or turning back to go forward, or to move from a stand-still, or to stand still after moving, so that, without doubt, the cavalry cannot do precisely thus as the infantry. Horses cannot, after being put into disorder from some attack, return to the order (of the ranks) except with difficulty, and even if the attack does not occur; the infantry rarely do this. In addition to this, it often occurs that a courageous man is mounted on a base horse, and a base man on a courageous horse, whence it must happen that this difference in courage causes disorders. Nor should anyone wonder that a Knot (group) of infantry sustains every attack of the cavalry, for the horse is a sensible animal and knows the dangers, and goes in unwillingly. And if you would think about what forces make him (the horse) go forward and what keep him back, without doubt you will see that those which hold him back are greater than those which push him; for spurs make him go forward, and, on the other hand, the sword and the pike retain him. So that from both ancient and modern experiences, it has been seen that a small group of infantry can be very secure from, and even actually insuperable to, the cavalry. And if you should argue on this that the Elan with which he comes makes it more furious in hurling himself against whoever wants to sustain his attack, and he responds less to the pike than the spur, I say that, as soon as the horse so disposed begins to see himself at the point of being struck by the points of the pikes, either he will by himself check his gait, so that he will stop as soon as he sees himself about to be pricked by them, or, being pricked by them, he will turn to the right or left. If you want to make a test of this, try to run a horse against a wall, and rarely will you find one that will run into it, no matter with what Elan you attempt it. Caesar, when he had to combat the Swiss in Gaul, dismounted and made everyone dismount to their feet, and had the horses removed from the ranks, as they were more adept at fleeing than fighting.

But, notwithstanding these natural impediments that horses have, the Captain who leads the infantry ought to select roads that have as many obstacles for horses as possible, and rarely will it happen that the men will not be able to provide for their safety from the kind of country. If one marches among hills, the location of the march should be such that you may be free from those attacks of which you may be apprehensive; and if you go on the plains, rarely will you find one that does not have crops or woods which will provide some safety for you, for every bush and embankment, even though small, breaks up that dash, and every cultivated area where there are vines and other trees impedes the horses. And if you come to an engagement, the same will happen to you as when marching, because every little impediment which the horse meets cause him to lose his fury. None the less, I do not want to forget to tell you one thing, that although the Romans esteemed much their own discipline and trusted very much on their arms (and armor), that if they had to select a place, either so rough to protect themselves from horses and where they could not be able to deploy their forces, or one where they had more to fear from the horses but where they were able to spread out, they would always take the latter and leave the former.

But, as it is time to pass on to the training (of the men), having armed this infantry according to the ancient and modern usage, we shall see what training they gave to the Romans before the infantry were led to battle. Although they were well selected and better armed, they were trained with the greatest attention, because without this training a soldier was never any good. This training consisted of three parts. The first, to harden the body and accustom it to endure hardships, to act faster, and more dexterously. Next, to teach the use of arms: The third, to teach the trainees the observance of orders in marching as well as fighting and encamping. These are the three principal actions which make an army: for if any army marches, encamps, and fights, in a regular and practical manner, the Captain retains his honor even though the engagement should not have a good ending. All the ancient Republics, therefore, provided such training, and both by custom and law, no part was left out. They therefore trained their youth so as to make them speedy in running, dextrous in jumping, strong in driving stakes and wrestling. And these three qualities are almost necessary in a soldier; for speed makes him adept at occupying places before the enemy, to come upon him unexpectedly, and to pursue him when he is routed. Dexterity makes him adept at avoiding blows, jumping a ditch and climbing over an embankment. Strength makes him better to carry arms, hurl himself against an enemy, and sustain an attack. And above all, to make the body more inured to hardships, they accustom it to carry great weights. This accustoming is necessary, for in difficult expeditions it often happens that the soldier, in addition to his arms, must carry provisions for many days, and if he had not been accustomed to this hard work, he would not be able to do it, and, hence, he could neither flee from a danger nor acquire a victory with fame.

As to the teaching of the use of arms, they were trained in this way. They had the young men put on arms (armor) which weighed more than twice that of the real (regular) ones, and, as a sword, they gave them a leaded club which in comparison was very heavy. They made each one of them drive a pole into the ground so that three arm-lengths remained (above ground), and so firmly fixed that blows would not drive it to one side or have it fall to the ground; against this pole, the young men were trained with the shield and the club as against an enemy, and sometime they went against it as if they wanted to wound the head or the face, another time as if they wanted to puncture the flank, sometimes the legs, sometime they drew back, another time they went forward. And in this training, they had in mind making themselves adept at covering (protecting) themselves and wounding the enemy; and since the feigned arms were very heavy, the real ones afterwards seemed light. The Romans wanted their soldiers to wound (the enemy) by the driving of a point against him, rather than by cutting (slashing), as much because such a blow was more fatal and had less defense against it, as also because it left less uncovered (unprotected) those who were wounding, making him more adept at repeating his attack, than by slashing. Do you not wonder that those ancients should think of these minute details, for they reasoned that where men had to come hand to hand (in battle), every little advantage is of the greatest importance; and I will remind you of that, because the writers say of this that I have taught it to you. Nor did the ancients esteem it a more fortunate thing in a Republic than to have many of its men trained in arms; for it is not the splendor of jewels and gold that makes the enemy submit themselves to you, but only the fear of arms. Moreover, errors made in other things can sometimes be corrected afterwards, but those that are made in war, as the punishment happens immediately, cannot be corrected. In addition to this, knowing how to fight makes men more audacious, as no one fears to do the things which appear to him he has been taught to do. The ancients, therefore, wanted their citizens to train in every warlike activity; and even had them throw darts against the pole heavier than the actual ones: which exercise, in addition to making men expert in throwing, also makes the arm more limber and stronger. They also taught them how to draw the bow and the sling, and placed teachers in charge of doing all these things: so that when (men) were selected to go to war, they were already soldiers in spirit and disposition. Nor did these remain to teach them anything else than to go by the orders and maintain themselves in them whether marching or combatting: which they easily taught by mixing themselves with them, so that by knowing how to keep (obey) the orders, they could exist longer in the army.

COSIMO

Would you have them train this way now?

FABRIZIO

Many of those which have been mentioned, like running wrestling, making them jump, making them work hard under arms heavier than the ordinary, making them draw the crossbow and the sling; to which I would add the light gun, a new instrument ((as you know)), and a necessary one. And I would accustom all the youth of my State to this training: but that part of them whom I have enrolled to fight, I would (especially) train with greater industry and more solicitude, and I would train them always on their free days. I would also desire that they be taught to swim, which is a very useful thing, because there are not always bridges at rivers, nor ships ready: so that if your army does not know how to swim, it may be deprived of many advantages, and many opportunities, to act well are taken away. The Romans, therefore, arranged that the young men be trained on the field of Mars, so that having the river Tiber nearby, they would be able after working hard in exercises on land to refresh themselves in the water, and also exercise them in their swimming.

I would also do as the ancients and train those who fight on horseback: which is very necessary, for in addition to knowing how to ride, they would know how to avail themselves of the horse (in maneuvering him). And, therefore, they arranged horses of wood on which they straddled, and jumped over them armed and unarmed without any help and without using their hands: which made possible that in a moment, and at a sign from the Captain, the cavalry to become as foot soldiers, and also at another sign, for them to be remounted. And as such exercises, both on foot and horseback, were easy at that time, so now it should not be difficult for that Republic or that Prince to put them in practice on their youth, as is seen from the experience of Western Cities, where these methods similar to these institutions are yet kept alive.

They divide all their inhabitants into several parts, and assign one kind of arms of those they use in war to each part. And as they used pikes, halberds, bows, and light guns, they called them pikemen, halberdiers, archers, and gunners. It therefore behooved all the inhabitants to declare in what order they wanted to be enrolled. And as all, whether because of age or other impediment, are not fit for war (combat), they make a selection from each order and they call them the Giurati (Sworn Ones), who, on their free days, are obliged to exercise themselves in those arms in which they are enrolled: and each one is assigned his place by the public where such exercises are to be carried on, and those who are of that order but are not sworn, participate by (contributing) money for those expenses which are necessary for such exercises. That which they do, therefore, we can do, but our little prudence does not allow us to take up any good proceeding.

From these exercises, it resulted that the ancients had good infantry, and that now those of the West have better infantry than ours, for the ancients exercised either at home as did those Republics, or in the armies as did those Emperors, for the reasons mentioned above. But we do not want to exercise at home, and we cannot do so in the field because they are not our subjects and we cannot obligate them to other exercises than they themselves want. This reason has caused the armies to die out first, and then the institutions, so that the Kingdoms and the Republics, especially the Italian, exist in such a weak condition today.

But let us return to our subject, and pursuing this matter of training, I say, that it is not enough in undertaking good training to have hardened the men, made them strong, fast and dextrous, but it is also necessary to teach them to keep discipline, obey the signs, the sounds (of the bugle), and the voice of the Captain; to know when to stand, to retire, to go forward, and when to combat, to march, to maintain ranks; for without this discipline, despite every careful diligence observed and practiced, an army is never good. And without doubt, bold but undisciplined men are more weak than the timid but disciplined ones; for discipline drives away fear from men, lack of discipline makes the bold act foolishly. And so that you may better understand what will be mentioned below, you have to know that every nation has made its men train in the discipline of war, or rather its army as the principal part, which, if they have varied in name, they have varied little in the numbers of men involved, as all have comprised six to eight thousand men. This number was called a Legion by the Romans, a Phalanx by the Greeks, a Caterna by the Gauls. This same number, by the Swiss, who alone retain any of that ancient military umbrage, in our times is called in their language what in ours signifies a Battalion. It is true that each one is further subdivided into small Battaglia (Companies), and organized according to its purpose. It appears to me, therefore, more suitable to base our talk on this more notable name, and then according to the ancient and modern systems, arrange them as best as is possible. And as the Roman Legions were composed of five or six thousand men, in ten Cohorts, I want to divide our Battalion into ten Companies, and compose it of six thousand men on foot; and assign four hundred fifty men to each Company, of whom four hundred are heavily armed and fifty lightly armed: the heavily armed include three hundred with shields and swords, and will be called Scudati (shield bearers), and a hundred with pikes, and will be called pikemen: the lightly armed are fifty infantry armed with light guns, cross-bows, halberds, and bucklers, and these, from an ancient name, are called regular (ordinary) Veliti: the whole ten Companies, therefore, come to three thousand shield bearers; a thousand ordinary pikemen, and one hundred fifty ordinary Veliti, all of whom comprise (a number of) four thousand five hundred infantry. And we said we wanted to make a Battalion of six thousand men; therefore it is necessary to add another one thousand five hundred infantry, of whom I would make a thousand with pikes, whom I will call extraordinary pikemen, (and five hundred light armed, whom I will call extraordinary Veliti): and thus my infantry would come ((according as was said a little while ago)) to be composed half of shield bearers and half among pikemen and other arms (carriers). In every Company, I would put in charge a Constable, four Centurions, and forty Heads of Ten, and in addition, a Head of the ordinary Veliti with five Heads of Ten. To the thousand extraordinary pikemen, I would assign three Constables, ten Centurions, and a hundred Heads of Ten: to the extraordinary Veliti, two Constables, five Centurions, and fifty Heads of Ten. I would also assign a general Head for the whole Battalion. I would want each Constable to have a distinct flag and (bugle) sound.

Summarizing, therefore, a Battalion would be composed of ten Companies, of three thousand shield bearers, a thousand ordinary pikemen, a thousand extraordinary pikemen, five hundred ordinary Veliti, and five hundred extraordinary Veliti: thus they would come to be six thousand infantry, among whom there would be one thousand five hundred Heads of Ten, and in addition fifteen Constables, with fifteen Buglers and fifteen flags, fifty five Centurions, ten Captains of ordinary Veliti, and one Captain for the whole Battalion with its flag and Bugler. And I have knowingly repeated this arrangement many times, so that then, when I show you the methods for organizing the Companies and the armies, you will not be confounded.

I say, therefore, that any King or Republic which would want to organize its subjects in arms, would provide them with these parties and these arms, and create as many battalions in the country as it is capable of doing: and if it had organized it according to the division mentioned above, and wanting to train it according to the orders, they need only to be trained Company by Company. And although the number of men in each of them could not be themselves provide a reasonably (sized) army, none the less, each man can learn to do what applies to him in particular, for two orders are observed in the armies: the one, what men ought to do in each Company: the other, what the Company ought to do afterwards when it is with others in an army: and those men who carry out the first, will easily observe the second: but without the first, one can never arrive at the discipline of the second. Each of these Companies, therefore, can by themselves learn to maintain (discipline in) their ranks in every kind and place of action, and then to know how to assemble, to know its (particular bugle) call, through which it is commanded in battle; to know how to recognize by it ((as galleys do from the whistle)) as to what they have to do, whether to stay put, or go forward, or turn back, or the time and place to use their arms. So that knowing how to maintain ranks well, so that neither the action nor the place disorganizes them, they understand well the commands of the leader by means of the (bugle) calls, and knowing how to reassemble quickly, these Companies then can easily ((as I have said)), when many have come together, learn to do what each body of them is obligated to do together with other Companies in operating as a reasonably (sized) army. And as such a general practice also is not to be esteemed little, all the Battalions can be brought together once or twice in the years of peace, and give them a form of a complete army, training it for several days as if it should engage in battle, placing the front lines, the flanks, and auxiliaries in their (proper) places.

And as a Captain arranges his army for the engagement either taking into account the enemy he sees, or for that which he does not see but is apprehensive of, the army ought to be trained for both contingencies, and instructed so that it can march and fight when the need arises; showing your soldiers how they should conduct themselves if they should be assaulted by this band or that. And when you instruct them to fight against an enemy they can see, show them how the battle is enkindled, where they have to retire without being repulsed, who has to take their places, what signs, what (bugle) calls, and what voice they should obey, and to practice them so with Companies and by mock attacks, that they have the desire for real battle. For a courageous army is not so because the men in it are courageous, but because the ranks are well disciplined; for if I am of the first line fighters, and being overcome, I know where I have to retire, and who is to take my place, I will always fight with courage seeing my succor nearby: If I am of the second line fighters, I would not be dismayed at the first line being pushed back and repulsed, for I would have presupposed it could happen, and I would have desired it in order to be he who, as it was not them, would give the victory to my patron. Such training is most necessary where a new army is created; and where the army is old (veteran), it is also necessary for, as the Romans show, although they knew the organization of their army from childhood, none the less, those Captains, before they came to an encounter with the enemy, continually exercised them in those disciplines. And Joseph in his history says, that the continual training of the Roman armies resulted in all the disturbance which usually goes on for gain in a camp, was of no effect in an engagement, because everyone knew how to obey orders and to fight by observing them. But in the armies of new men which you have to put together to combat at the time, or that you caused to be organized to combat in time, nothing is done without this training, as the Companies are different as in a complete army; for as much discipline is necessary, it must be taught with double the industry and effort to those who do not have it, and be maintained in those who have it, as is seen from the fact that many excellent Captains have tired themselves without any regard to themselves.

COSIMO

And it appears to me that this discussion has somewhat carried you away, for while you have not yet mentioned the means with which Companies are trained, you have discussed engagements and the complete army.

FABRIZIO

You say the truth, and truly the reason is the affection I have for these orders, and the sorrow that I feel seeing that they are not put into action: none the less, have no fear, but I shall return to the subject. As I have told you, of first importance in the training of the Company is to know how to maintain ranks. To do this, it is necessary to exercise them in those orders, which they called Chiocciole (Spiralling). And as I told you that one of these Companies ought to consist of four hundred heavily armed infantry, I will stand on this number. They should, therefore, be arranged into eighty ranks (files), with five per file. Then continuing on either strongly or slowly, grouping them and dispersing them; which, when it is done, can be demonstrated better by deeds than by words: afterwards, it becomes less necessary, for anyone who is practiced in these exercises knows how this order proceeds, which is good for nothing else but to accustom the soldiers to maintain ranks. But let us come and put together one of those Companies.

I say that these can be formed in three ways: the first and most useful is to make it completely massive and give it the form of two squares: the second is to make the square with a homed front: the third is to make it with a space in the center, which they call Piazza (plaza). The method of putting together the first form can be in two steps. The first is to have the files doubled, that is, that the second file enters the first, the fourth into the third, and sixth into the fifth, and so on in succession; so that where there were eighty files and five (men) per file, they become forty files and ten per file. Then make them double another time in the same manner, placing one file within the other, and thus they become twenty files of twenty men per file. This makes almost a square, for although there are so many men on one side (of the square) as the other, none the less, on the side of the front, they come together so that (the side of) one man touches the next; but on the other side (of the square) the men are distant at least two arm lengths from each other, so that the square is longer from the front to the back (shoulders), then from one side (flank) to the other. (So that the rectangle thus formed is called two squares).

And as we have to talk often today of the parts in front, in the rear, and on the side of this Company, and of the complete army, you will understand that when I will say either head or front, I mean to say the part in front; when I say shoulder, the part behind (rear); when I say flanks, the parts on the side.

The fifty ordinary Veliti of the company are not mixed in with the other files, but when the company is formed, they extend along its flanks.

The other method of putting together (forming) the company is this; and because it is better than the first, I want to place in front of your eyes in detail how it ought to be organized. I believe you remember the number of men and the heads which compose it, and with what arms it is armed. The form, therefore, that this company ought to have is ((as I have said)) of twenty files, twenty men per file, five files of pikemen in front, and fifteen files of shield bearers on the shoulders (behind); two centurions are in front and two behind in the shoulders who have the office of those whom the ancients called Tergiduttori (Rear-leaders): The Constable, with the flag and bugler, is in that space which is between the five files of pikemen and the fifteen of shield-bearers: there is one of the Captains of the Ten on every flank, so that each one is alongside his men, those who are on the left side of his right hand, those on the right side on his left hand. The fifty Veliti are on the flanks and shoulders (rear) of the company. If it is desired, now, that regular infantry be employed, this company is put together in this form, and it must organize itself thusly: Have the infantry be brought to eighty files, five per file, as we said a little while ago; leaving the Veliti at the head and on the tail (rear), even though they are outside this arrangement; and it ought to be so arranged that each Centurion has twenty files behind him on the shoulders, and those immediately behind every Centurion are five files of pikemen, and the remaining shield-bearers: the Constable, with his flag and bugler, is in that space that is between the pikemen and the shield-bearers of the second Centurion, and occupies the places of three shield-bearers: twenty of the Heads of Ten are on the Flanks of the first Centurion on the left hand, and twenty are on the flanks of the last Centurion on the right hand. And you have to understand, that the Head of Ten who has to guide (lead) the pikemen ought to have a pike, and those who guide the shield-bearers ought to have similar arms.

The files, therefore, being brought to this arrangement, and if it is desired, by marching, to bring them into the company to form the head (front), you have to cause the first Centurion to stop with the first file of twenty, and the second to continue to march; and turning to the right (hand) he goes along the flanks of the twenty stopped files, so that he comes head-to-head with the other Centurion, where he too stops; and the third Centurion continues to march, also turning to the right (hand), and marches along the flanks of the stopped file so that he comes head-to-head with the other two Centurions; and when he also stops, the other Centurion follows with his file, also going to the right along the flanks of the stopped file, so that he arrives at the head (front) with the others, and then he stops; and the two Centurions who are alone quickly depart from the front and go to the rear of the company, which becomes formed in that manner and with those orders to the point which we showed a little while ago. The Veliti extend themselves along its flanks, according as they were disposed in the first method; which method is called Doubling by the straight line, and this last (method) is called Doubling by the flanks.

The first method is easier, while this latter is better organized, and is more adaptable, and can be better controlled by you, for it must be carried out by the numbers, that from five you make ten, ten twenty, twenty forty: so that by doubling at your direction, you cannot make a front of fifteen, or twenty five or thirty or thirty five, but you must proceed to where the number is less. And yet, every day, it happens in particular situations, that you must make a front with six or eight hundred infantry, so that the doubling by the straight line will disarrange you: yet this (latter) method pleases me more, and what difficulty may exist, can be more easily overcome by the proper exercise and practice of it.

I say to you, therefore, that it is more important than anything to have soldiers who know how to form themselves quickly, and it is necessary in holding them in these Companies, to train them thoroughly, and have them proceed bravely forward or backward, to pass through difficult places without disturbing the order; for the soldiers who know how to do this well, are experienced soldiers, and although they may have never met the enemy face to face, they can be called seasoned soldiers; and, on the contrary, those who do not know how to maintain this order, even if they may have been in a thousand wars, ought always to be considered as new soldiers. This applies in forming them when they are marching in small files: but if they are formed, and then become broken because of some accident that results either from the location or from the enemy, to reorganize themselves immediately is the important and difficult thing, in which much training and practice is needed, and in which the ancients placed much emphasis. It is necessary, therefore, to do two things: first, to have many countersigns in the Company: the other, always to keep this arrangement, that the same infantry always remain in the same file. For instance, if one is commanded to be in the second (file), he will afterwards always stay there, and not only in this same file, but in the same position (in the file); it is to be observed ((as I have said)) how necessary are the great number of countersigns, so that, coming together with other companies, it may be recognized by its own men. Secondly, that the Constable and Centurion have tufts of feathers on their head-dress different and recognizable, and what is more important, to arrange that the Heads of Ten be recognized. To which the ancients paid very much attention, that nothing else would do, but that they wrote numbers on their bucklers, calling then the first, second, third, fourth, etc. And they were not above content with this, but each soldier had to write on his shield the number of his file, and the number of his place assigned him in that file. The men, therefore, being thus countersigned (assigned), and accustomed to stay within these limits, if they should be disorganized, it is easy to reorganize them all quickly, for the flag staying fixed, the Centurions and Heads of Ten can judge their place by eye, and bring the left from the right, or the right from the left, with the usual distances between; the infantry guided by their rules and by the difference in countersigns, can quickly take their proper places, just as, if you were the staves of a barrel which you had first countersigned, I would wager you would put it (the barrel) back together with great ease, but if you had not so countersigned them (the staves), it is impossible to reassemble (the barrel). This system, with diligence and practice, can be taught quickly, and can be quickly learned, and once learned are forgotten with difficulty; for new men are guided by the old, and in time, a province which has such training, would become entirely expert in war. It is also necessary to teach them to turn in step, and do so when he should turn from the flanks and by the soldiers in the front, or from the front to the flanks or shoulders (rear). This is very easy, for it is sufficient only that each man turns his body toward the side he is commanded to, and the direction in which they turned becomes the front. It is true that when they turn by the flank, the ranks which turn go outside their usual area, because there is a small space between the breast to the shoulder, while from one flank to the other there is much space, which is all contrary to the regular formation of the company. Hence, care should be used in employing it. But this is more important and where more practice is needed, is when a company wants to turn entirely, as if it was a solid body. Here, great care and practice must be employed, for if it is desired to turn to the left, for instance, it is necessary that the left wing be halted, and those who are closer to the halted one, march much slower then those who are in the right wing and have to run; otherwise everything would be in confusion.

But as it always happens when an army marches from place to place, that the companies not situated in front, not having to combat at the front, or at the flanks or shoulders (rear), have to move from the flank or shoulder quickly to the front, and when such companies in such cases have the space necessary as we indicated above, it is necessary that the pikemen they have on that flank become the front, and the Heads of the Ten, Centurions, and Constables belonging to it relocate to their proper places. Therefore, in wanting to do this, when forming them it is necessary to arrange the eighty files of five per file, placing all the pikemen in the first twenty files, and placing five of the Heads of Ten (of it) in the front of them and five in the rear: the other sixty files situated behind are all shield-bearers, who total to three hundred. It should therefore be so arranged, that the first and last file of every hundred of Heads of Ten; the Constable with his flag and bugler be in the middle of the first hundred (century) of shield-bearers; and the Centurions at the head of every century. Thus arranged, when you want the pikemen to be on the left flank, you have to double them, century by century, from the right flank: if you want them to be on the right flank, you have to double them from the left. And thus this company turns with the pikemen on the flank, with the Heads of Ten on the front and rear, with the Centurions at the front of them, and the Constable in the middle. Which formation holds when going forward; but when the enemy comes and the time for the (companies) to move from the flanks to the front, it cannot be done unless all the soldiers face toward the flank where the pikemen are, and then the company is turned with its files and heads in that manner that was described above; for the Centurions being on the outside, and all the men in their places, the Centurions quickly enter them (the ranks) without difficulty. But when they are marching frontwards, and have to combat in the rear, they must arrange the files so that, in forming the company, the pikes are situated in the rear; and to do this, no other order has to be maintained except that where, in the formation of the company ordinarily every Century has five files of pikemen in front, it now has them behind, but in all the other parts, observe the order that I have mentioned.

COSIMO

You have said ((if I remember well)) that this method of training is to enable them to form these companies into an army, and that this training serves to enable them to be arranged within it. But if it should occur that these four hundred fifty infantry have to operate as a separate party, how would you arrange them?

FABRIZIO

I will now guide you in judging where he wants to place the pikes, and who should carry them, which is not in any way contrary to the arrangement mentioned above, for although it may be the method that is observed when, together with other companies, it comes to an engagement, none the less, it is a rule that serves for all those methods, in which it should happen that you have to manage it. But in showing you the other two methods for arranging the companies, proposed by me, I will also better satisfy your question; for either they are never used, or they are used when the company is above, and not in the company of others.

And to come to the method of forming it with two horns (wings), I say, that you ought to arrange the eighty files at five per file in this way: place a Centurion in the middle, and behind him twenty five files that have two pikemen (each) on the left side, and three shield-bearers on the right: and after the first five, in the next twenty, twenty Heads of Ten be placed, all between the pikemen and shield-bearers, except that those (Heads) who carry pikes stay with the pikemen. Behind these twenty five files thusly arranged, another Centurion is placed who has fifteen files of shield-bearers behind him. After these, the Constable between the flag and the bugler, who also has behind him another fifteen files of shield-bearers. The third Centurion is placed behind these, and he has twenty five files behind him, in each of which are three shield-bearers on the left left side and two pikemen on the right: and after the first five files are twenty Heads of Ten placed between the pikemen and the shield-bearers. After these files, there is the fourth Centurion. If it is desired, therefore, to arrange these files to form a company with two horns (wings), the first Centurion has to be halted with the twenty five files which are behind him. The second Centurion then has to be moved with the fifteen shield-bearers who are on his rear, and turning to the right, and on the right flank of the twenty five files to proceed so far that he comes to the fifteen files, and here he halts. After, the Constable has to be moved with the fifteen files of shield bearers who are behind, and turning around toward the right, over by the right flank of the fifteen files which were moved first, marches so that he comes to their front, and here he halts. After, move the third Centurion with the twenty five files and with the fourth Centurion who is behind them, and turning to the right, march by the left flank of the last fifteen files of shield-bearers, and he does not halt until he is at the head of them, but continues marching up until the last files of twenty five are in line with the files behind. And, having done this, the Centurion who was Head of the first fifteen files of shield-bearers leaves the place where he was, and goes to the rear of the left angle. And thus he will turn a company of twenty five solid files, of twenty infantry per file, with two wings, on each side of his front, and there will remain a space between then, as much as would (be occupied by) by ten men side by side. The Captain will be between the two wings, and a Centurion in each corner of the wing. There will be two files of pikemen and twenty Heads of Ten on each flank. These two wings (serve to) hold between them that artillery, whenever the company has any with it, and the carriages. The Veliti have to stay along the flanks beneath the pikemen. But, in wanting to bring this winged (formed) company into the form of the piazza (plaza), nothing else need be done than to take eight of the fifteen files of twenty per file and place them between the points of the two horns (wings), which then from wings become the rear (shoulder) of the piazza (plaza). The carriages are kept in this plaza, and the Captain and the flag there, but not the artillery, which is put either in the front or along the flanks. These are the methods which can be used by a company when it has to pass by suspicious places by itself. None the less, the solid company, without wings and without the plaza, is best. But in wanting to make safe the disarmed ones, that winged one is necessary.

The Swiss also have many forms of companies, among which they form one in the manner of a cross, as in the spaces between the arms, they keep their gunners safe from the attacks of the enemy. But since such companies are good in fighting by themselves, and my intention is to show how several companies united together combat with the enemy, I do not belabor myself further in describing it.

COSIMO

And it appears to me I have very well comprehended the method that ought to be employed in training the men in these companies, but ((if I remember well)) you said that in addition to the ten companies in a Battalion, you add a thousand extraordinary pikemen and four hundred extraordinary Veliti. Would you not describe how to train these?

FABRIZIO

I would, and with the greatest diligence: and I would train the pikemen, group by group, at least in the formations of the companies, as the others; for I would serve myself of these more than of the ordinary companies, in all the particular actions, how to escort, to raid, and such things. But the Veliti I would train at home without bringing them together with the others, for as it is their office to combat brokenly (in the open, separately), it is not as necessary that they come together with the others or to train in common exercises, than to train them well in particular exercises. They ought, therefore, ((as was said in the beginning, and now it appears to me laborious to repeat it)) to train their own men in these companies so that they know how to maintain their ranks, know their places, return there quickly when either the evening or the location disrupts them; for when this is caused to be done, they can easily be taught the place the company has to hold and what its office should be in the armies. And if a Prince or a Republic works hard and puts diligence in these formations and in this training, it will always happen that there will be good soldiers in that country, and they will be superior to their neighbors, and will be those who give, and not receive, laws from other men. But ((as I have told you)) the disorder in which one exists, causes them to disregard and not to esteem these things, and, therefore, our training is not good: and even if there should be some heads or members naturally of virtue, they are unable to demonstrate it.

COSIMO

What carriages would you want each of these companies to have?

FABRIZIO

The first thing I would want is that the Centurions or the Heads of Ten should not go on horseback: and if the Constables want to ride mounted, I would want them to have a mule and not a horse. I would permit them two carriages, and one to each Centurion, and two to every three Heads of Ten, for they would quarter so many in each encampment, as we will narrate in its proper place. So that each company would have thirty six carriages, which I would have (them) to carry the necessary tents, cooking utensils, hatchets, digging bars, sufficient to make the encampment, and after that anything else of convenience.

COSIMO

I believe that Heads assigned by you in each of the companies are necessary: none the less, I would be apprehensive that so many commanders would be confusing.

FABRIZIO

They would be so if I would refer to one, but as I refer to many, they make for order; actually, without those (orders), it would be impossible to control them, for a wall which inclines on every side would need many and frequent supports, even if they are not so strong, but if few, they must be strong, for the virtu of only one, despite its spacing, can remedy any ruin. And so it must be that in the armies and among every ten men there is one of more life, of more heart, or at least of more authority, who with his courage, with words and by example keeps the others firm and disposed to fight. And these things mentioned by me, as the heads, the flags, the buglers, are necessary in an army, and it is seen that we have all these in our (present day) armies, but no one does his duty. First, the Heads of Ten, in desiring that those things be done because they are ordered, it is necessary ((as I have said)) for each of them to have his men separate, lodge with them, go into action with them, stay in the ranks with them, for when they are in their places, they are all of mind and temperament to maintain their ranks straight and firm, and it is impossible for them to become disrupted, or if they become disrupted, do not quickly reform their ranks. But today, they do not serve us for anything other than to give them more pay than the others, and to have them do some particular thing. The same happens with the flags, for they are kept rather to make a beautiful show, than for any military use. But the ancients served themselves of it as a guide and to reorganize themselves, for everyone, when the flag was standing firm, knew the place that he had to be near his flag, and always returned there. He also knew that if it were moving or standing still, he had to move or halt. It is necessary in an army, therefore, that there be many bodies, and that each body have its own flag and its own guide; for if they have this, it needs must be they have much courage and consequently, are livelier. The infantry, therefore, ought to march according to the flag, and the flag move according to the bugle (call), which call, if given well, commands the army, which proceeding in step with those, comes to serve the orders easily. Whence the ancients having whistles (pipes), fifes, and bugles, controlled (modulated) them perfectly; for, as he who dances proceeds in time with the music, and keeping with it does not make a miss-step, so an army obedient in its movement to that call (sound), will not become disorganized. And, therefore, they varied the calls according as they wanted to enkindle or quiet, or firm the spirits of men. And as the sounds were various, so they named them variously. The Doric call (sound) brought on constancy, Frigio, fury (boldness): whence they tell, that Alexander being at table, and someone sounding the Frigio call, it so excited his spirit that he took up arms. It would be necessary to rediscover all these methods, and if this is difficult, it ought not at least to be (totally) put aside by those who teach the soldier to obey; which each one can vary and arrange in his own way, so long as with practice he accustoms the ears of his soldiers to recognize them. But today, no benefit is gotten from these sounds in great part, other than to make noise.

COSIMO

I would desire to learn from you, if you have ever pondered this with yourself, whence such baseness and disorganization arises, and such negligence of this training in our times?

FABRIZIO

I will tell you willingly what I think. You know of the men excellent in war there have been many famed in Europe, few in Africa, and less in Asia. This results from (the fact that) these last two parts of the world have had a Principality or two, and few Republics; but Europe alone has had some Kingdoms and an infinite number of Republics. And men become excellent, and show their virtu, according as they are employed and recognized by their Prince, Republic, or King, whichever it may be. It happens, therefore, that where there is much power, many valiant men spring up, where there is little, few. In Asia, there are found Ninus, Cyrus, Artafersus, Mithradates, and very few others to accompany these. In Africa, there are noted ((omitting those of ancient Egypt)) Maximinius, Jugurtha, and those Captains who were raised by the Carthaginian Republic, and these are very few compared to those of Europe; for in Europe there are excellent men without number, and there would be many more, if there should be named together with them those others who have been forgotten by the malignity of the time, since the world has been more virtuous when there have been many States which have favored virtu, either from necessity or from other human passion. Few men, therefore, spring up in Asia, because, as that province was entirely subject to one Kingdom, in which because of its greatness there was indolence for the most part, it could not give rise to excellent men in business (activity). The same happened in Africa: yet several, with respect to the Carthaginian Republic, did arise. More excellent men come out of Republics than from Kingdoms, because in the former virtu is honored much of the time, in the Kingdom it is feared; whence it results that in the former, men of virtu are raised, in the latter they are extinguished. Whoever, therefore, considers the part of Europe, will find it to have been full of Republics and Principalities, which from the fear one had of the other, were constrained to keep alive their military organizations, and honor those who greatly prevailed in them. For in Greece, in addition to the Kingdom of the Macedonians, there were many Republics, and many most excellent men arose in each of them. In Italy, there were the Romans, the Samnites, the Tuscans, the Cisalpine Gauls. France and Germany were full of Republics and Princes. Spain, the very same. And although in comparison with the Romans, very few others were noted, it resulted from the malignity of the writers, who pursued fortune and to whom it was often enough to honor the victors. For it is not reasonable that among the Samnites and Tuscans, who fought fifty years with the Roman People before they were defeated, many excellent men should not have sprung up. And so likewise in France and Spain. But that virtu which the writers do not commemorate in particular men, they commemorate generally in the peoples, in which they exalt to the stars (skies) the obstinacy which existed in them in defending their liberty. It is true, therefore, that where there are many Empires, more valiant men spring up, and it follows, of necessity, that those being extinguished, little by little, virtu is extinguished, as there is less reason which causes men to become virtuous. And as the Roman Empire afterwards kept growing, and having extinguished all the Republics and Principalities of Europe and Africa, and in greater part those of Asis, no other path to virtu was left, except Rome. Whence it resulted that men of virtu began to be few in Europe as in Asia, which virtu ultimately came to decline; for all the virtu being brought to Rome, and as it was corrupted, so almost the whole world came to be corrupted, and the Scythian people were able to come to plunder that Empire, which had extinguished the virtu of others, but did not know how to maintain its own. And although afterwards that Empire, because of the inundation of those barbarians, became divided into several parts, this virtu was not renewed: first, because a price is paid to recover institutions when they are spoiled; another, because the mode of living today, with regard to the Christian religion, does not impose that necessity to defend it that anciently existed, in which at the time men, defeated in war, were either put to death or remained slaves in perpetuity, where they led lives of misery: the conquered lands were either desolated or the inhabitants driven out, their goods taken away, and they were sent dispersed throughout the world, so that those overcome in war suffered every last misery. Men were terrified from the fear of this, and they kept their military exercises alive, and honored those who were excellent in them. But today, this fear in large part is lost, and few of the defeated are put to death, and no one is kept prisoner long, for they are easily liberated. The Citizens, although they should rebel a thousand times, are not destroyed, goods are left to their people, so that the greatest evil that is feared is a ransom; so that men do not want to subject themselves to dangers which they little fear. Afterwards, these provinces of Europe exist under very few Heads as compared to the past, for all of France obeys a King, all of Spain another, and Italy exists in a few parts; so that weak Cities defend themselves by allying themselves with the victors, and strong States, for the reasons mentioned, do not fear an ultimate ruin.

COSIMO

And in the last twenty five years, many towns have been seen to be pillaged, and lost their Kingdoms; which examples ought to teach others to live and reassume some of the ancient orders.

FABRIZIO

That is what you say, but if you would note which towns are pillaged, you would not find them to be the Heads (Chief ones) of the States, but only members: as is seen in the sacking of Tortona and not Milan, Capua and not Naples, Brescia and not Venice, Ravenna and not Rome. Which examples do not cause the present thinking which governs to change, rather it causes them to remain in that opinion of being able to recover themselves by ransom: and because of this, they do not want to subject themselves to the bother of military training, as it appears to them partly unnecessary, partly a tangle they do not understand. Those others who are slave, to whom such examples ought to cause fear, do not have the power of remedying (their situation), and those Princes who have lost the State, are no longer in time, and those who have (the State) do not have (military training) and those Princes who have lost the State, are no longer in time, and those who have (the State) do not have (military training) or want it; for they want without any hardship to remain (in power) through fortune, not through their own virtu, and who see that, because there is so little virtu, fortune governs everything, and they want it to master them, not they master it. And that that which I have discussed is true, consider Germany, in which, because there are many Principalities and Republics, there is much virtu, and all that is good in our present army, depends on the example of those people, who, being completely jealous of their State ((as they fear servitude, which elsewhere is not feared)) maintain and honor themselves all us Lords. I want this to suffice to have said in showing the reasons for the present business according to my opinion. I do not know if it appears the same to you, or if some other apprehension should have risen from this discussion.

COSIMO

None, rather I am most satisfied with everything. I desire above, returning to our principal subject, to learn from you how you would arrange the cavalry with these companies, and how many, how captained, and how armed.

FABRIZIO

And it, perhaps, appears to you that I have omitted these, at which do not be surprized, for I speak little of them for two reasons: one, because this part of the army is less corrupt than that of the infantry, for it is not stronger than the ancient, it is on a par with it. However, a short while before, the method of training them has been mentioned. And as to arming them, I would arm them as is presently done, both as to the light cavalry as to the men-at-arms. But I would want the light cavalry to be all archers, with some light gunners among them, who, although of little use in other actions of war, are most useful in terrifying the peasants, and place them above a pass that is to be guarded by them, for one gunner causes more fear to them (the enemy) than twenty other armed men. And as to numbers, I say that departing from imitating the Roman army, I would have not less than three hundred effective cavalry for each battalion, of which I would want one hundred fifty to be men-at-arms, and a hundred fifty light cavalry; and I would give a leader to each of these parts, creating among them fifteen Heads of Ten per hand, and give each one a flag and a bugler. I would want that every ten men-at-arms have five carriages and every ten light cavalrymen two, which, like those of the infantry, should carry the tents, (cooking) utensils, hitches, poles, and in addition over the others, their tools. And do not think this is out of place seeing that men-at-arms have four horses at their service, and that such a practice is a corrupting one; for in Germany, it is seen that those men-at-arms are alone with their horses, and only every twenty have a cart which carries the necessary things behind them. The horsemen of the Romans were likewise alone: it is true that the Triari encamped near the cavalry and were obliged to render aid to it in the handling of the horses: this can easily be imitated by us, as will be shown in the distribution of quarters. That, therefore, which the Romans did, and that which the Germans do, we also can do; and in not doing it, we make a mistake. These cavalrymen, enrolled and organized together with a battalion, can often be assembled when the companies are assembled, and caused to make some semblance of attack among them, which should be done more so that they may be recognized among them than for any necessity. But I have said enough on this subject for now, and let us descend to forming an army which is able to offer battle to the enemy, and hope to win it; which is the end for which an army is organized, and so much study put into it.

BOOK III.

COSIMO

Since we are changing the discussion, I would like the questioner to be changed, so that I may not be held to be presumptuous, which I have always censured in others. I, therefore, resign the speakership, and I surrender it to any of these friends of mine who want it.

ZANOBI

It would be most gracious of you to continue: but since you do not want to, you ought at least to tell us which of us should succeed in your place.

COSIMO

I would like to pass this burden on the Lord Fabrizio.

FABRIZIO

I am content to accept it, and would like to follow the Venetian custom, that the youngest talks first; for this being an exercise for young men, I am persuaded that young men are more adept at reasoning, than they are quick to follow.

COSIMO

It therefore falls to you Luigi: and I am pleased with such a successor, as long as you are satisfied with such a questioner.

FABRIZIO

I am certain that, in wanting to show how an army is well organized for undertaking an engagement, it would be necessary to narrate how the Greeks and the Romans arranged the ranks in their armies. None the less, as you yourselves are able to read and consider these things, through the medium of ancient writers, I shall omit many particulars, and will cite only those things that appear necessary for me to imitate, in the desire in our times to give some (part of) perfection to our army. This will be done, and, in time, I will show how an army is arranged for an engagement, how it faces a real battle, and how it can be trained in mock ones. The greatest mistake that those men make who arrange an army for an engagement, is to give it only one front, and commit it to only one onrush and one attempt (fortune). This results from having lost the method the ancients employed of receiving one rank into the other; for without this method, one cannot help the rank in front, or defend them, or change them by rotation in battle, which was practiced best by the Romans. In explaining this method, therefore, I want to tell how the Romans divided each Legion into three parts, namely, the Astati, the Princeps, and the Triari; of whom the Astati were placed in the first line of the army in solid and deep ranks, (and) behind them were the Princeps, but placed with their ranks more open: and behind these they placed the Triari, and with ranks so sparse, as to be able, if necessary, to receive the Princeps and the Astati between them. In addition to these, they had slingers, bow-men (archers), and other lightly armed, who were not in these ranks, but were situated at the head of the army between the cavalry and the infantry. These light armed men, therefore, enkindled the battle, and if they won ((which rarely happened)), they pursued the victory: if they were repulsed, they retired by way of the flanks of the army, or into the intervals (gaps) provided for such a result, and were led back among those who were not armed: after this proceeding, the Astati came hand to hand with the enemy, and who, if they saw themselves being overcome, retired little by little through the open spaces in the ranks of the Princeps, and, together with them, renewed the fight. If these also were forced back, they all retired into the thin lines of the Triari, and all together, en masse, recommenced the battle; and if these were defeated, there was no other remedy, as there was no way left to reform themselves. The cavalry were on the flanks of the army, placed like two wings on a body, and they some times fought on horseback, and sometimes helped the infantry, according as the need required. This method of reforming themselves three times is almost impossible to surpass, as it is necessary that fortune abandon you three times, and that the enemy has so much virtu that he overcomes you three times. The Greeks, with their Phalanxes, did not have this method of reforming themselves, and although these had many ranks and Leaders within them, none the less, they constituted one body, or rather, one front. So that in order to help one another, they did not retire from one rank into the other, as the Romans, but one man took the place of another, which they did in this way. Their Phalanxes were (made up) of ranks, and supposing they had placed fifty men per rank, when their front came against the enemy, only the first six ranks of all of them were able to fight, because their lances, which they called Sarisse, were so long, that the points of the lances of those in the sixth rank reached past the front rank. When they fought, therefore, if any of the first rank fell, either killed or wounded, whoever was behind him in the second rank immediately entered into his place, and whoever was behind him in the third rank immediately entered into the place in the second rank which had become vacant, and thus successively all at once the ranks behind restored the deficiencies of those in front, so that the ranks were always remained complete, and no position of the combatants was vacant except in the last rank, which became depleted because there was no one in its rear to restore it. So that the injuries which the first rank suffered, depleted the last, and the first rank always remained complete; and thus the Phalanxes, because of their arrangement, were able rather to become depleted than broken, since the large (size of its) body made it more immobile. The Romans, in the beginning, also employed Phalanxes, and instructed their Legions in a way similar to theirs. Afterwards, they were not satisfied with this arrangement, and divided the Legion into several bodies; that is, into Cohorts and Maniples; for they judged ((as was said a little while ago)) that that body should have more life in it (be more active) which should have more spirit, and that it should be composed of several parts, and each regulate itself. The Battalions of the Swiss, in these times, employed all the methods of the Phalanxes, as much in the size and entirety of their organization, as in the method of helping one another, and when coming to an engagement they place the Battalions one on the flank of the other, or they place them one behind the other. They have no way in which the first rank, if it should retire, to be received by the second, but with this arrangement, in order to help one another, they place one Battalion in front and another behind it to the right, so that if the first has need of aid, the latter can go forward and succor it. They put a third Battalion behind these, but distant a gun shot. This they do, because if the other two are repulsed, this (third) one can make its way forward, and the others have room in which to retire, and avoid the onrush of the one which is going forward; for a large multitude cannot be received (in the same way) as a small body, and, therefore, the small and separate bodies that existed in a Roman Legion could be so placed together as to be able to receive one another among themselves, and help each other easily. And that this arrangement of the Swiss is not as good as that of the ancient Romans is demonstrated by the many examples of the Roman Legions when they engaged in battle with the Greek Phalanxes, and the latter were always destroyed by the former, because the kinds of arms ((as I mentioned before)) and this method of reforming themselves, was not able to maintain the solidity of the Phalanx. With these examples, therefore, if I had to organize an army, I would prefer to retain the arms and the methods, partly of the Greek Phalanxes, partly of the Roman Legions; and therefore I have mentioned wanting in a Battalion two thousand pikes, which are the arms of the Macedonian Phalanxes, and three thousand swords and shield, which are the arms of the Romans. I have divided the Battalion into ten Companies, as the Romans (divided) the Legion into ten Cohorts. I have organized the Veliti, that is the light armed, to enkindle the battle, as they (the Romans did). And thus, as the arms are mixed, being shared by both nations and as also the organizations are shared, I have arranged that each company have five ranks of pikes (pikemen) in front, and the remainder shields (swordsmen with shields), in order to be able with this front to resist the cavalry, and easily penetrate the enemy companies on foot, and the enemy at the first encounter would meet the pikes, which I would hope would suffice to resist him, and then the shields (swordsmen) would defeat him. And if you would note the virtu of this arrangement, you will see all these arms will execute their office completely. First, because pikes are useful against cavalry, and when they come against infantry, they do their duty well before the battle closes in, for when they are pressed, they become useless. Whence the Swiss, to avoid this disadvantage, after every three ranks of pikemen place one of halberds, which, while it is not enough, gives the pikemen room (to maneuver). Placing, therefore, our pikes in the front and the shields (swordsmen) behind, they manage to resist the cavalry, and in enkindling the battle, lay open and attack the infantry: but when the battle closes in, and they become useless, the shields and swords take their place, who are able to take care of themselves in every strait.

LUIGI

We now await with desire to learn how you would arrange the army for battle with these arms and with these organizations.

FABRIZIO

I do not now want to show you anything else other than this. You have to understand that in a regular Roman army, which they called a Consular Army, there were not more than two Legions of Roman Citizens, which consist of six hundred cavalry and about eleven thousand infantry. They also had as many more infantry and cavalry which were sent to them by their friends and confederates, which they divided into two parts, and they called one the right wing, and the other the left wing, and they never permitted this (latter) infantry to exceed the number of the infantry of the Legion. They were well content that the cavalry should be greater in number. With this army which consisted of twenty two thousand infantry and about two thousand cavalry effectives, a Consul undertook every action and went on every enterprise. And when it was necessary to face a large force, they brought together two Consuls with two armies. You ought also to note that ordinarily in all three of the principal activities in which armies engage, that is, marching, camping, and fighting, they place the Legion in the middle, because they wanted that virtu in which they should trust most should be greater unity, as the discussion of all these three activities will show you. Those auxiliary infantry, because of the training they had with the infantry of the Legion, were as effective as the latter, as they were disciplined as they were, and therefore they arranged them in a similar way when organizing (for) and engagement. Whoever, therefore, knows how they deployed the entire (army). Therefore, having told you how they divided a Legion into three lines, and how one line would receive the other, I have come to tell you how the entire army was organized for an engagement.

If I would want, therefore, to arrange (an army for) an engagement in imitation of the Romans, just as they had two Legions, I would take two Battalions, and these having been deployed, the disposition of an entire Army would be known: for by adding more people, nothing else is accomplished than to enlarge the organization. I do not believe it is necessary that I remind you how many infantry there are in a Battalion, and that it has ten companies, and what Leaders there are per company, and what arms they have, and who are the ordinary (regular) pikemen and Veliti, and who the extraordinary, because a little while I distinctly told you, and I reminded you to commit it to memory as something necessary if you should want to understand all the other arrangements: and, therefore, I will come to the demonstration of the arrangement, without repeating these again. And it appears to me that ten Companies of a Battalion should be placed on the left flank, and the ten others of the other on the right. Those on the left should be arranged in this way. The five companies should be placed one alongside the other on the front, so that between one and the next there would be a space of four arm lengths which come to occupy an area of one hundred forty one arm lengths long, and forty wide. Behind these five Companies I would place three others, distant in a straight line from the first ones by forty arm lengths, two of which should come behind in a straight line at the ends of the five, and the other should occupy the space in the middle. Thus these three would come to occupy in length and width the same space as the five: but where the five would have a distance of four arm lengths between one another, this one would have thirty three. Behind these I would place the last two companies, also in a straight line behind the three, and distant from those three forty arm lengths, and I would place each of them behind the ends of the three, so that the space between them would be ninety one arm lengths. All of these companies arranged thusly would therefore cover (an area of) one hundred forty one arm lengths long and two hundred wide. The extraordinary pikemen I would extend along the flanks of these companies on the left side, distant twenty arm lengths from it, creating a hundred forty three files of seven per file, so that they should cover the entire length of the ten companies arranged as I have previously described; and there would remain forty files for protecting the wagons and the unarmed people in the tail of the army, (and) assigning the Heads of Ten and the Centurions in their (proper) places: and, of the three Constables, I would put one at the head, another in the middle, and the third in the last file, who should fill the office of Tergiduttore, as the ancients called the one placed in charge of the rear of the Army. But returning to the head (van) of the Army I say, that I would place the extraordinary Veliti alongside the extraordinary pikemen, which, as you know, are five hundred, and would place them at a distance of forty arm lengths. On the side of these, also on the left hand; I would place the men-at-arms, and would assign them a distance of a hundred fifty arm lengths away. Behind these, the light cavalry, to whom I would assign the same space as the men-at-arms. The ordinary Veliti I would leave around their companies, who would occupy those spaces which I placed between one company and another, who would act to minister to those (companies) unless I had already placed them under the extraordinary pikemen; which I would do or not do according as it should benefit my plans. The general Head of all the Battalions I would place in that space that exists between the first and second order of companies, or rather at the head, and in that space with exists between the last of the first five companies and the extraordinary pikemen, according as it should benefit my plans, surrounded by thirty or sixty picked men, (and) who should know how to execute a commission prudently, and stalwartly resist an attack, and should also be in the middle of the buglers and flag carriers. This is the order in which I would deploy a Battalion on the left side, which would be the deployment of half the Army, and would cover an area five hundred and eleven arm lengths long and as much as mentioned above in width, not including the space which that part of the extraordinary pikemen should occupy who act as a shield for the unarmed men, which would be about one hundred arm lengths. The other Battalions I would deploy on the right side exactly in the same way as I deployed those on the left, having a space of thirty arm lengths between our battalions and the other, in the head of which space I would place some artillery pieces, behind which would be the Captain general of the entire Army, who should have around him in addition to the buglers and flag carriers at least two hundred picked men, the greater portion on foot, among whom should be ten or more adept at executing every command, and should be so provided with arms and a horse as to be able to go on horseback or afoot as the needs requires. Ten cannon of the artillery of the Army suffice for the reduction of towns, which should not exceed fifty pounds per charge, of which in the field I would employ more in the defense of the encampment than in waging a battle, and the other artillery should all be rather often than fifteen pounds per charge. This I would place in front of the entire army, unless the country should be such that I could situate it on the flank in a safe place, where it should not be able to be attacked by the enemy.

This formation of the Army thusly arranged, in combat, can maintain the order both of the Phalanxes and of the Roman Legions, because the pikemen are in front and all the infantry so arranged in ranks, that coming to battle with the enemy, and resisting him, they should be able to reform the first ranks from those behind according to the usage of the Phalanxes. On the other hand, if they are attacked so that they are compelled to break ranks and retire, they can enter into the spaces of the second company behind them, and uniting with them, (and) en masse be able to resist and combat the enemy again: and if this should not be enough, they can in the same way retire a second time, and combat a third time, so that in this arrangement, as to combatting, they can reform according to both the Greek method, and the Roman. As to the strength of the Army, it cannot be arranged any stronger, for both wings are amply provided with both leaders and arms, and no part is left weak except that part behind which is unarmed, and even that part has its flanks protected by the extraordinary pikemen. Nor can the enemy assault it in any part where he will not find them organized, and the part in the back cannot be assaulted, because there cannot be an enemy who has so much power that he can assail every side equally, for it there is one, you don’t have to take the field with him. But if he should be a third greater than you, and as well organized as you, if he weakens himself by assaulting you in several places, as soon as you defeat one part, all will go badly for him. If his cavalry should be greater than yours, be most assured, for the ranks of pikemen that gird you will defend you from every onrush of theirs, even if your cavalry should be repulsed. In addition to this, the Heads are placed on the side so that they are able easily to command and obey. And the spaces that exist between one company and the next one, and between one rank and the next, not only serve to enable one to receive the other, but also to provide a place for the messengers who go and come by order of the Captain. And as I told you before, as the Romans had about twenty thousand men in an Army, so too ought this one have: and as other soldiers borrowed their mode of fighting and the formation of their Army from the Legions, so too those soldiers that you assembled into your two Battalions would have to borrow their formation and organization. Having given an example of these things, it is an easy matter to initiate it: for if the army is increased either by two Battalions, or by as many men as are contained in them, nothing else has to be done than to double the arrangements, and where ten companies are placed on the left side, twenty are now placed, either by increasing or extending the ranks, according as the place or the enemy should command you.

LUIGI

Truly, (my) Lord, I have so imagined this army, that I see it now, and have a desire to see it facing us, and not for anything in the world would I desire you to become Fabius Maximus, having thoughts of holding the enemy at bay and delaying the engagement, for I would say worse of you, than the Roman people said of him.

FABRIZIO

Do not be apprehensive. Do you not hear the artillery? Ours has already fired, but harmed the enemy little; and the extraordinary Veliti come forth from their places together with the light cavalry, and spread out, and with as much fury and the loudest shouts of which they are capable, assault the enemy, whose artillery has fired one time, and has passed over the heads of our infantry without doing them an injury. And as it is not able to fire a second time, our Veliti and cavalry have already seized it, and to defend it, the enemy has moved forward, so that neither that of friend or enemy can perform its office. You see with what virtu our men fight, and with what discipline they have become accustomed because of the training they have had, and from the confidence they have in the Army, which you see with their stride, and with the men-at-arms alongside, in marching order, going to rekindle the battle with the adversary. Your see our artillery, which to make place for them, and to leave the space free, has retired to the place from which the Veliti went forth. You see the Captain who encourages them and points out to them certain victory. You see the Veliti and light cavalry have spread out and returned to the flanks of the Army, in order to see if they can cause any injury to the enemy from the flanks. Look, the armies are facing each other: watch with what virtu they have withstood the onrush of the enemy, and with what silence, and how the Captain commands the men-at-arms that they should resist and not attack, and do not detach themselves from the ranks of the infantry. You see how our light cavalry are gone to attack a band of enemy gunners who wanted to attach by the flank, and how the enemy cavalry have succored them, so that, caught between the cavalry of the one and the other, they cannot fire, and retire behind their companies. You see with what fury our pikemen attack them, and how the infantry is already so near each other that they can no longer manage their pikes: so that, according to the discipline taught by us, our pikemen retire little by little among the shields (swordsmen). Watch how in this (encounter), so great an enemy band of men-at-arms has pushed back our men-at-arms on the left side and how ours, according to discipline, have retired under the extraordinary pikemen, and having reformed the front with their aid, have repulsed the adversary, and killed a good part of them. In fact all the ordinary pikemen of the first company have hidden themselves among the ranks of the shields (swordsmen), and having left the battle to the swordsmen, who, look with what virtu, security, and leisure, kill the enemy. Do you not see that, when fighting, the ranks are so straitened, that they can handle the swords only with much effort? Look with what hurry the enemy moves; for, armed with the pike and their swords useless ((the one because it is too long, the other because of finding the enemy too greatly armed)), in part they fall dead or wounded, in part they flee. See them flee on the right side. They also flee on the left. Look, the victory is ours. Have we not won an engagement very happily? But it would have been won with greater felicity if I should have been allowed to put them in action. And see that it was not necessary to avail ourselves of either the second or third ranks, that our first line was sufficient to overcome them. In this part, I have nothing else to tell you, except to dissolve any doubts that should arise in you.

LUIGI

You have won this engagement with so much fury, that I am astonished, and in fact so stupefied, that I do not believe I can well explain if there is any doubt left in my mind. Yet, trusting in your prudence, I will take courage to say that I intend. Tell me first, why did you not let your artillery fire more than one time? and why did you have them quickly retire within the army, nor afterward make any other mention of them? It seems to me also that you pointed the enemy artillery high, and arranged it so that it should be of much benefit to you. Yet, if it should occur ((and I believe it happens often)) that the lines are pierced, what remedy do you provide? And since I have commenced on artillery, I want to bring up all these questions so as not to have to discuss it any more. I have heard many disparage the arms and the organization of the ancient Armies, arguing that today they could do little, or rather how useless they would be against the fury of artillery, for these are superior to their arms and break the ranks, so that it appears to them to be madness to create an arrangement that cannot be held, and to endure hardship in carrying a weapon that cannot defend you.

FABRIZIO

This question of yours has need ((because it has so many items)) of a long answer. It is true that I did not have the artillery fire more than one time, and because of it one remains in doubt. The reason is, that it is more important to one to guard against being shot than shooting the enemy. You must understand that, if you do not want the artillery to injure you, it is necessary to stay where it cannot reach you, or to put yourself behind a wall or embankment. Nothing else will stop it; but it is necessary for them to be very strong. Those Captains who must make an engagement cannot remain behind walls or embankments, nor can they remain where it may reach them. They must, therefore, since they do not have a way of protecting themselves, find one by which they are injured less; nor can they do anything other than to undertake it quickly. The way of doing this is to go find it quickly and directly, not slowly or en masse; for, speed does not allow them to shoot again, and because the men are scattered, they can injure only a few of them. A band of organized men cannot do this, because if they march in a straight line, they become disorganized, and if they scatter, they do not give the enemy the hard work to rout them, for they have routed themselves. And therefore I would organize the Army so that it should be able to do both; for having placed a thousand Veliti in its wings, I would arrange, that after our artillery had fired, they should issue forth together with the light cavalry to seize the enemy artillery. And therefore I did not have my artillery fire again so as not to give the enemy time, for you cannot give me time and take it from others. And for that, the reason I did not have it fired a second time, was not to allow it to be fired first; because, to render the enemy artillery useless, there is no other remedy than to assault it; which, if the enemy abandons it, you seize it; if they want to defend it, it is necessary that they leave it behind, so that in the hands of the enemy or of friends, it cannot be fired. I believe that, even without examples, this discussion should be enough for you, yet, being able to give you some from the ancients, I will do so. Ventidius, coming to battle with the Parthians, the virtu of whom (the latter) in great part consisted in their bows and darts, be allowed them to come almost under his encampments before he led the Army out, which he only did in order to be able to seize them quickly and not give them time to fire. Caesar in Gaul tells, that in coming to battle with the enemy, he was assaulted by them with such fury, that his men did not have time to draw their darts according to the Roman custom. It is seen, therefore, that, being in the field, if you do not want something fired from a distance to injure you, there is no other remedy than to be able to seize it as quickly as possible. Another reason also caused me to do without firing the artillery, at which you may perhaps laugh, yet I do not judge it is to be disparaged. And there is nothing that causes greater confusion in an Army than to obstruct its vision, whence most stalwart Armies have been routed for having their vision obstructed either by dust or by the sun. There is also nothing that impedes the vision than the smoke which the artillery makes when fired: I would think, therefore, that it would be more prudent to let the enemy blind himself, than for you to go blindly to find him. I would, therefore, not fire, or ((as this would not be approved because of the reputation the artillery has)) I would put it in the wings of the Army, so that firing it, its smoke should not blind the front of what is most important of our forces. And that obstructing the vision of the enemy is something useful, can be adduced from the example of Epaminondas, who, to blind the enemy Army which was coming to engage him, had his light cavalry run in front of the enemy so that they raised the dust high, and which obstructed their vision, and gave him the victory in the engagement. As to it appearing to you that I aimed the shots of artillery in my own manner, making it pass over the heads of the infantry, I reply that there are more times, and without comparison, that the heavy artillery does not penetrate the infantry than it does, because the infantry lies so low, and they (the artillery) are so difficult to fire, that any little that you raise them, (causes) them to pass over the heads of the infantry, and if you lower them, they damage the ground, and the shot does not reach them (the infantry). Also, the unevenness of the ground saves them, for every little mound or height which exists between the infantry and it (the artillery), impedes it. And as to cavalry, and especially men-at-arms, because they are taller and can more easily be hit, they can be kept in the rear (tail) of the Army until the time the artillery has fired. It is true that often they injure the smaller artillery and the gunners more that the latter (cavalry), to which the best remedy is to come quickly to grips (hand to hand): and if in the first assault some are killed ((as some always do die)) a good Captain and a good Army do not have to fear an injury that is confined, but a general one; and to imitate the Swiss, who never shun an engagement even if terrified by artillery, but rather they punish with the capital penalty those who because of fear of it either break ranks or by their person give the sign of fear. I made them ((once it had been fired)) to retire into the Army because it left the passage free to the companies. No other mention of it was made, as something useless, once the battle was started.

You have also said in regard to the fury of this instrument that many judge the arms and the systems of the ancients to be useless, and it appears from your talk that the moderns have found arms and systems which are useful against the artillery. If you know this, I would be pleased for you to show it to me, for up to now I do not know of any that have been observed, nor do I believe any can be found. So that I would like to learn from those men for what reasons the soldiers on foot of our times wear the breastplate or the corselet of iron, and those on horseback go completely covered with armor, since, condemning the ancient armor as useless with respect to artillery, they ought also to shun these. I would also like to learn for what reason the Swiss, in imitation of the ancient systems, for a close (pressed) company of six or eight thousand infantry, and for what reason all the others have imitated them, bringing the same dangers to this system because of the artillery as the others brought which had been imitated from antiquity. I believe that they would not know what to answer; but if you asked the soldiers who should have some experience, they would answer, first that they go armed because, even if that armor does not protect them from the artillery, it does every other injury inflicted by an enemy, and they would also answer that they go closely together as the Swiss in order to be better able to attack the infantry, resist the cavalry, and give the enemy more difficulty in routing them. So that it is observed that soldiers have to fear many other things besides the artillery, from which they defend themselves with armor and organization. From which it follows that as much as an Army is better armed, and as much as its ranks are more serrated and more powerful, so much more is it secure. So that whoever is of the opinion you mentioned must be either of little prudence, or has thought very little on this matter; for if we see the least part of the ancient way of arming in use today, which is the pike, and the least part of those systems, which are the battalions of the Swiss, which do us so much good, and lend so much power to our Armies, why shouldn’t we believe that the other arms and other systems that they left us are also useful? Moreover, if we do not have any regard for the artillery when we place ourselves close together, like the Swiss, what other system than that can make us afraid? inasmuch as there is no other arrangement that can make us afraid than that of being pressed together. In addition to this, if the enemy artillery does not frighten me when I lay siege to a town, where he may injure me with great safety to himself, and where I am unable to capture it as it is defended from the walls, but can stop him only with time with my artillery, so that he is able to redouble his shots as he wishes, why do I have to be afraid of him in the field where I am able to seize him quickly? So that I conclude this, that the artillery, according to my opinion, does not impede anyone who is able to use the methods of the ancients, and demonstrate the ancient virtu. And if I had not talked another time with you concerning this instrument, I would extend myself further, but I want to return to what I have now said.

LUIGI

We are able to have a very good understanding since you have so much discoursed about artillery, and in sum, it seems to me you have shown that the best remedy that one has against it when he is in the field and having an Army in an encounter, is to capture it quickly. Upon which, a doubt rises in me, for it seems to me the enemy can so locate it on a side of his army from which he can injure you, and would be so protected by the other sides, that it cannot be captured. You have ((if you will remember)) in your army’s order for battle, created intervals of four arm lengths between one company and the next, and placed twenty of the extraordinary pikemen of the company there. If the enemy should organize his army similarly to yours, and place his artillery well within those intervals, I believe that from here he would be able to injure you with the greatest safety to himself, for it would not be possible to enter among the enemy forces to capture it.

FABRIZIO

You doubt very prudently, and I will endeavor either to resolve the doubt, or to give you a remedy. I have told you that these companies either when going out or when fighting are continually in motion, and by nature always end up close together, so that if you make the intervals small, in which you would place the artillery, in a short time, they would be so closed up that the artillery can no longer perform its function: if you make them large to avoid this danger, you incur a greater, so that, because of those intervals, you not only give the enemy the opportunity to capture your artillery, but to rout you. But you have to know that it is impossible to keep the artillery between the ranks, especially those that are mounted on carriages, for the artillery travel in one direction, and are fired in the other, so that if they are desired to be fired while travelling, it is necessary before they are fired that they be turned, and when they are being turned they need so much space, that fifty carriages of artillery would disrupt every Army. It is necessary, therefore, to keep them outside the ranks where they can be operated in the manner which we showed you a short time ago. But let us suppose they can be kept there, and that a middle way can be found, and of a kind which, when closed together, should not impede the artillery, yet not be so open as to provide a path for the enemy, I say that this is easily remedied at the time of the encounter by creating intervals in your army which give a free path for its shots, and thus its fury will be useless. Which can be easily done, because the enemy, if it wants its artillery to be safe, must place it in the end portions of the intervals, so that its shots, if they should not harm its own men, must pass in a straight line, and always in the same line, and, therefore, by giving them room, can be easily avoided. Because this is a general rule, that you must give way to those things which cannot be resisted, as the ancients did to the elephants and chariots with sickles. I believe, rather I am more than certain, that it must appear to you that I prepared and won an engagement in my own manner; none the less, I will repeat this, if what I have said up to now is now enough, that it would be impossible for an Army thus organized and armed not to overcome, at the first encounter, every other Army organized as modern Armies are organized, which often, unless they have shields (swordsmen), do not form a front, and are of an unarmed kind, which cannot defend themselves from a near-by enemy; and so organized that, that if they place their companies on the flanks next to each other, not having a way of receiving one another, they cause it to be confused, and apt to be easily disturbed. And although they give their Armies three names, and divide them into three ranks, the Vanguard, the Company (main body) and the Rearguard, none the less, they do not serve for anything else than to distinguish them in marching and in their quarters: but in an engagement, they are all pledged to the first attack and fortune.

LUIGI

I have also noted that in making your engagement, your cavalry was repulsed by the enemy cavalry, and that it retired among the extraordinary pikemen, whence it happened that with their aid, they withstood and repulsed the enemy in the rear. I believe the pikemen can withstand the cavalry, as you said, but not a large and strong Battalion, as the Swiss do, which, in your Army, have five ranks of pikemen at the head, and seven on the flank, so that I do not know how they are able to withstand them.

FABRIZIO

Although I have told you that six ranks were employed in the Phalanxes of Macedonia at one time, none the less, you have to know that a Swiss Battalion, if it were composed of ten thousand tanks could not employ but four, or at most five, because the pikes are nine arm lengths long and an arm length and a half is occupied by the hands; whence only seven and a half arm lengths of the pike remain to the first rank. The second rank, in addition to what the hand occupies, uses up an arm’s length of the space that exists between one rank and the next; so that not even six arm lengths of pike remain of use. For the same reasons, these remain four and one half arm lengths to the third rank, three to the fourth, and one and a half to the fifth. The other ranks are useless to inflict injury; but they serve to replace the first ranks, as we have said, and serve as reinforcements for those (first) five ranks. If, therefore, five of their ranks can control cavalry, why cannot five of ours control them, to whom five ranks behind them are also not lacking to sustain them, and give the same support, even though they do not have pikes as the others do? And if the ranks of extraordinary pikemen which are placed along the flanks seem thin to you, they can be formed into a square and placed by the flank of the two companies which I place in the last ranks of the army, from which place they would all together be able easily to help the van and the rear of the army, and lend aid to the cavalry according as their need may require.

LUIGI

Would you always use this form of organization, when you would want to engage in battle?

FABRIZIO

Not in every case, for you have to vary the formation of the army according to the fitness of the site, the kind and numbers of the enemy, which will be shown before this discussion is furnished with an example. But this formation that is given here, not so much because it is stronger than others, which is in truth very strong, as much because from it is obtained a rule and a system, to know how to recognize the manner of organization of the others; for every science has its generations, upon which, in good part, it is based. One thing only, I would remind you, that you never organize an army so that whoever fights in the van cannot be helped by those situated behind, because whoever makes this error renders useless the great part of the army, and if any virtu is eliminated, he cannot win.

LUIGI

And on this part, some doubt has arisen in me. I have seen that in the disposition of the companies you form the front with five on each side the center with three, and the rear with two; and I would believe that it should be better to arrange them oppositely, because I think that an army can be routed with more difficulty, for whoever should attack it, the more he should penetrate into it, so much harder would he find it: but the arrangement made by you appears to me results, that the more one enters into it, the more he finds it weak.

FABRIZIO

If you would remember that the Triari, who were the third rank of the Roman Legions, were not assigned more than six hundred men, you would have less doubt, when you leave that they were placed in the last ranks, because you will see that I (motivated by this example) have placed two companies in the last ranks, which comprise nine-hundred infantry; so that I come to err rather with the Roman people in having taken away too many, than few. And although this example should suffice, I want to tell you the reasons, which is this. The first front (line) of the army is made solid and dense because it has to withstand the attack of the enemy, and does not have to receive any friends into it, and because of this, it must abound in men, for few men would make it weak both from their sparseness and their numbers. But the second line, because it has to relieve the friends from the first who have withstood the enemy, must have large intervals, and therefore must have a smaller number than the first; for if it should be of a greater or equal number, it would result in not leaving any intervals, which would cause disorder, or if some should be left, it would extend beyond the ends of those in front, which would make the formation of the army incomplete (imperfect). And what you say is not true, that the more the enemy enters into the Battalions, the weaker he will find them; for the enemy can never fight with the second line, if the first one is not joined up with it: so that he will come to find the center of the Battalion stronger and not weaker, having to fight with the first and second (lines) together. The same thing happens if the enemy should reach the third line, because here, he will not only have to fight with two fresh companies, but with the entire Battalion. And as this last part has to receive more men, its spaces must be larger, and those who receive them lesser in number.

LUIGI

And I like what you have said; but also answer me this. If the five companies retire among the second three, and afterwards, the eight among the third two, does it not seem possible that the eight come together then the ten together, are able to crowd together, whether they are eight or ten, into the same space which the five occupied.

FABRIZIO

The first thing that I answer is, that it is not the same space; for the five have four spaces between them, which they occupy when retiring between one Battalion and the next, and that which exists between the three or the two: there also remains that space which exists between the companies and the extraordinary pikemen, which spaces are all made large. There is added to this whatever other space the companies have when they are in the lines without being changed, for, when they are changed, the ranks are either compressed or enlarged. They become enlarged when they are so very much afraid, that they put themselves in flight: they become compressed when they become so afraid, that they seek to save themselves, not by flight, but by defense; so that in this case, they would compress themselves, and not spread out. There is added to this, that the five ranks of pikemen who are in front, once they have started the battle, have to retire among their companies in the rear (tail) of the army to make place for the shield-bearers (swordsmen) who are able to fight: and when they go into the tail of the army they can serve whoever the captain should judge should employ them well, whereas in the front, once the fight becomes mixed, they would be completely useless. And therefore, the arranged spaces come to be very capacious for the remaining forces. But even if these spaces should not suffice, the flanks on the side consist of men and not walls, who, when they give way and spread out, are able to create a space of such capacity, which should be sufficient to receive them.

LUIGI

The ranks of the extraordinary pikemen, which you place on the flank of the army when the first company retires into the second, do you want them to remain firm, and become as two wings of the army or do you also want them to retire with the company. Which, if they have to do this, I do not see how they can, as they do not have companies behind them with wide intervals which would receive them.

FABRIZIO

If the enemy does not fight them when he faces the companies to retire, they are able to remain firm in their ranks, and inflict injury on the enemy on the flank since the first companies had retired: but if they should also fight them, as seems reasonable, being so powerful as to be able to force the others to retire, they should cause them also to retire. Which they are very well able to do, even though they have no one behind who should receive them, for from the middle forward they are able to double on the right, one file entering into the other in the manner we discussed when we talked of the arrangement for doubling themselves. It is true, that when doubling, they should want to retire behind, other means must be found than that which I have shown you, since I told you that the second rank had to enter among the first, the fourth among the third, and so on little by little, and in this case, it would not be begun from the front, but from the rear, so that doubling the ranks, they should come to retire to the rear, and not to turn in front. But to reply to all of that, which (you have asked) concerning this engagement as shown by me, it should be repeated, (and) I again say that I have so organized this army, and will (again) explain this engagement to you for two reasons: one, to show you how it (the army) is organized: the other, to show you how it is trained. As to the systems, I believe you all most knowledgeable. As to the army, I tell you that it may often be put together in this form, for the Heads are taught to keep their companies in this order: and because it is the duty of each individual soldier to keep (well) the arrangement of each company, and it is the duty of each Head to keep (well) those in each part of the Army, and to know well how to obey the commands of the general Captain. They must know, therefore, how to join one company with another, and how to take their places instantly: and therefore, the banner of each company must have its number displayed openly, so that they may be commanded, and the Captain and the soldiers will more readily recognize that number. The Battalions ought also to be numbered, and have their number on their principal banner. One must know, therefore, what the number is of the Battalion placed on the left or right wing, the number of those placed in the front and the center, and so on for the others. I would want also that these numbers reflect the grades of positions in the Army. For instance, the first grade is the Head of Ten, the second is the head of fifty ordinary Veliti, the third the Centurion, the fourth the head of the first company, the fifth that of the second (company), the sixth of the third, and so on up to the tenth Company, which should be in the second place next to the general Captain of the Battalion; nor should anyone arrive to that Leadership, unless he had (first) risen through all these grades. And, as in addition to these Heads, there are the three Constables (in command) of the extraordinary pikemen, and the two of the extraordinary Veliti, I would want them to be of the grade of Constable of the first company, nor would I care if they were men of equal grade, as long as each of them should vie to be promoted to the second company. Each one of these Captains, therefore, knowing where his Company should be located, of necessity it will follow that, at the sound of the trumpet, once the Captain’s flag was raised, all of the Army would be in its proper places. And this is the first exercise to which an Army ought to become accustomed, that is, to assemble itself quickly: and to do this, you must frequently each day arrange them and disarrange them.

LUIGI

What signs would you want the flags of the Army to have, in addition to the number?

FABRIZIO

I would want the one of the general Captain to have the emblem of the Army: all the others should also have the same emblem, but varying with the fields, or with the sign, as it should seem best to the Lord of the Army, but this matters little, so long as their effect results in their recognizing one another.

But let us pass on to another exercise in which an army ought to be trained, which is, to set it in motion, to march with a convenient step, and to see that, while in motion, it maintains order. The third exercise is, that they be taught to conduct themselves as they would afterwards in an engagement; to fire the artillery, and retire it; to have the extraordinary Veliti issue forth, and after a mock assault, have them retire; have the first company, as if they were being pressed, retire within the intervals of the second (company), and then both into the third, and from here each one return to its place; and so to accustom them in this exercise, that it become understood and familiar to everyone, which with practice and familiarity, will readily be learned. The fourth exercise is that they be taught to recognize commands of the Captain by virtue of his (bugle) calls and flags, as they will understand, without other command, the pronouncements made by voice. And as the importance of the commands depends on the (bugle) calls, I will tell you what sounds (calls) the ancients used. According as Thucydides affirms, whistles were used in the army of the Lacedemonians, for they judged that its pitch was more apt to make their Army proceed with seriousness and not with fury. Motivated by the same reason, the Carthaginians, in their first assault, used the zither. Alliatus, King of the Lydians, used the zither and whistles in war; but Alexander the Great and the Romans used horns and trumpets, like those who thought the courage of the soldiers could be increased by virtue of such instruments, and cause them to combat more bravely. But just as we have borrowed from the Greek and Roman methods in equipping our Army, so also in choosing sounds should we serve ourselves of the customs of both those nations. I would, therefore, place the trumpets next to the general Captain, as their sound is apt not only to inflame the Army, but to be heard over every noise more than any other sound. I would want that the other sounds existing around the Constables and Heads of companies to be (made by) small drums and whistles, sounded not as they are presently, but as they are customarily sounded at banquets. I would want, therefore, for the Captain to use the trumpets in indicating when they should stop or go forward or turn back, when they should fire the artillery, when to move the extraordinary Veliti, and by changes in these sounds (calls) point out to the Army all those moves that generally are pointed out; and those trumpets afterwards followed by drums. And, as training in these matters are of great importance, I would follow them very much in training your Army. As to the cavalry, I would want to use the same trumpets, but of lower volume and different pitch of sounds from those of the Captain. This is all that occurs to me concerning the organization and training of the Army.

LUIGI

I beg you not to be so serious in clearing up another matter for me: why did you have the light cavalry and the extraordinary Veliti move with shouts and noise and fury when they attacked, but they in rejoining the Army you indicated the matter was accomplished with great silence: and as I do not understand the reason for this fact, I would desire you to clarify it for me.

FABRIZIO

When coming to battle, there have been various opinions held by the ancient Captains, whether they ought either to accelerate the step (of the soldiers) by sounds, or have them go slowly in silence. This last manner serves to keep the ranks firmer and have them understand the commands of the Captain better: the first serves to encourage the men more. And, as I believe consideration ought to be given to both these methods, I made the former move with sound, and the latter in silence. And it does not seem to me that in any case the sounds are planned to be continuous, for they would impede the commands, which is a pernicious thing. Nor is it reasonable that the Romans, after the first assault, should follow with such sounds, for it is frequently seen in their histories that soldiers who were fleeing were stopped by the words and advice of the Captains, and changed the orders in various ways by his command: which would not have occurred if the sounds had overcome his voice.

BOOK IV.

LUIGI

Since an engagement has been won so honorably under my Rule, I think it is well if I do not tempt fortune further, knowing how changeable and unstable it is. And, therefore, I desire to resign my speakership, and that, wanting to follow the order that belongs to the youngest, Zanobi now assume this office of questioning. And I know he will not refuse this honor, or we would rather say, this hard work, as much in order to (give) pleasure, as also because he is naturally more courageous than I: nor should he be afraid to enter into these labors, where he can thus be overcome, as he can overcome.

ZANOBI

I intend to stay where you put me, even though I would more willingly stay to listen, because up to now I am more satisfied with your questions than those which occurred to me in listening to your discussions pleased me. But I believe it is well, Lords, that since you have time left, and have patience, we do not annoy you with these ceremonies of ours.

FABRIZIO

Rather you give me pleasure, because this change of questioners makes me know the various geniuses, and your various desires. Is there anything remaining of the matter discussed which you think should be added?

ZANOBI

There are two things I desire before we pass on to another part: the one is, that you would show me if there is another form of organizing the Army which may occur to you: the other, what considerations ought a Captain have before going to battle, and if some accident should arise concerning it, what remedies can be made.

FABRIZIO

I will make an effort to satisfy you, I will not reply to your questions in detail; for, when I answer one, often it will also answer another. I have told you that I proposed a form for the Army which should fill all the requirements according to the (nature of) the enemy and the site, because in this case, one proceeds according to the site and the enemy. But note this, that there is no greater peril than to over extend the front of your army, unless you have a very large and very brave Army: otherwise you have to make it rather wide and of short length, than of long length and very narrow. For when you have a small force compared to the enemy, you ought to seek other remedies; for example, arrange your army so that you are girded on a side by rivers or swamps, so that you cannot be surrounded or gird yourself on the flanks with ditches, as Caesar did in Gaul. In this case, you have to take the flexibility of being able to enlarge or compress your front, according to the numbers of the enemy: and if the enemy is of a lesser number, you ought to seek wide places, especially if you have your forces so disciplined, that you are able not only to surround the enemy, but extend your ranks, because in rough and difficult places, you do not have the advantage of being able to avail yourself of (all) your ranks. Hence it happened that the Romans almost always sought open fields, and avoided the difficult ones. On the other hand ((as I have said)) you ought to, if you have either a small force or a poorly disciplined one, for you have to seek places where a small number can defend you, or where inexperience may not cause you injury. Also, higher places ought to be sought so as to be able more easily to attack (the enemy). None the less, one ought to be aware not to arrange your Army on a beach and in a place near the adjoining hills, where the enemy Army can come; because in this case, with respect to the artillery, the higher place would be disadvantageous to you, because you could continuously and conveniently be harmed by the enemy artillery, without being able to undertake any remedy, and similarly, impeded by your own men, you cannot conveniently injure him. Whoever organizes an Army for battle, ought also to have regard for both the sun and the wind, that the one and the other do not strike the front, because both impede your vision, the one with its rays, the other with dust. And in addition, the wind does not aid the arms that are thrown at the enemy, and makes their blows more feeble. And as to the sun, it is not enough that you take care that it is not in your face at the time, but you must think about it not harming you when it comes up. And because of this, in arranging the army, I would have it (the sun) behind them, so that much time should pass before it should come in front of you. This method was observed by Hannibal at Cannae and by Marius against the Cimbrians. If you should be greatly inferior in cavalry, arrange your army between vines and trees, and such impediments, as the Spaniards did in our times when they routed the French in the Kingdom (of Naples) on the Cirignuola. And it has been frequently seen that the same soldiers, when they changed only their arrangement and the location, from being overcome became victorious, as happened to the Carthaginians, who, after having been often defeated by Marius Regulus, were afterwards victorious, through the counsel of Xantippe, the Lacedemonian, who had them descend to the plain, where, by the virtu of their cavalry and Elephants, they were able to overcome the Romans. And it appears to me, according to the examples of the ancients, that almost all the excellent Captains, when they learned that the enemy had strengthened one side of the company, did not attack the stronger side, but the weaker, and the other stronger side they oppose to the weaker: then, when starting a battle, they cornered the stronger part that it only resist the enemy, and not push it back, and the weaker part that it allow itself to be overcome, and retire into the rear ranks of the Army. This causes two great disorders to the enemy: the first, that he finds his strongest part surrounded: the second is, that as it appears to them they will obtain the victory quickly, it rarely happens that he will not become disorganized, whence his defeat quickly results. Cornelius Scipio, when he was in Spain, (fighting) against Hasdrubal, the Carthaginian, and knowing that Hasdrubal was noted, that in arranging the Army, placed his legions in the center, which constituted the strongest part of his Army, and therefore, when Hasdrubal was to proceed in this manner, afterwards, when he came to the engagement, changed the arrangement, and put his Legions in the wings of the Army, and placed his weakest forces in the center. Then when they came hand to hand, he quickly had those forces in the center to walk slowly, and the wings to move forward swiftly: so that only the wings of both armies fought, and the ranks in the center, being distant from each other, did not join (in battle), and thus the strongest part of (the army of) Scipio came to fight the weakest part of (that of) Hasdrubal, and defeated it. This method at that time was useful, but today, because of the artillery, could not be employed, because that space that existed between one and the other army, gives them time to fire, which is most pernicious, as we said above. This method, therefore, must be set aside, and be used, as was said a short time ago, when all the Army is engaged, and the weaker part made to yield. When a Captain finds himself to have an army larger than that of the enemy, and not wanting to be prevented from surrounding him, arranges his Army with fronts equal to those of the enemy: then when the battle is started, has his front retire and the flanks extend little by little, and it will always happen that the enemy will find himself surrounded without being aware of it. When a Captain wants to fight almost secure in not being routed, he arranges his army in a place where he has a safe refuge nearby, either amid swamps or mountains or in a powerful city; for, in this manner, he cannot be pursued by the enemy, but the enemy cannot be pursued by him. This means was employed by Hannibal when fortune began to become adverse for him, and he was apprehensive of the valor of Marcus Marcellus. Several, in order to disorganize the ranks of the enemy, have commanded those who are lightly armed, that they begin the fight, and having begun it, retire among the ranks; and when the Armies afterwards have joined fronts together, and each front is occupied in fighting, they have allowed them to issue forth from the flanks of the companies, and disorganized and routed them. If anyone finds himself inferior in cavalry, he can, in addition to the methods mentioned, place a company of pikemen behind his cavalry, and in the fighting, arrange for them to give way for the pikemen, and he will always remain superior. Many have accustomed some of the lightly armed infantry to get used to combat amidst the cavalry, and this has been a very great help to the cavalry. Of all those who have organized Armies for battle, the most praiseworthy have been Hannibal and Scipio when they were fighting in Africa: and as Hannibal had his Army composed of Carthaginians and auxiliaries of various kinds, he placed eighty Elephants in the first van, then placed the auxiliaries, after these he placed his Carthaginians, and in the rear, he placed the Italians, whom he trusted little. He arranged matters thusly, because the auxiliaries, having the enemy in front and their rear closed by his men, they could not flee: so that being compelled to fight, they should overcome or tire out the Romans, thinking afterwards with his forces of virtu, fresh, he could easily overcome the already tired Romans. In the encounter with this arrangement, Scipio placed the Astati, the Principi, and the Triari, in the accustomed fashion for one to be able to receive the other, and one to help the other. He made the vans of the army full of intervals; and so that they should not be seen through, but rather appear united, he filled them with Veliti, whom he commanded that, as soon as the Elephants arrived, they should give way, and enter through the regular spaces among the legions, and leave the way open to the Elephants: and thus come to render their attack vain, so that coming hand to hand with them, he was superior.

ZANOBI

You have made me remember in telling me of this engagement, that Scipio, during the fight, did not have the Astati retire into the ranks of the Principi, but divided them and had them retire into the wings of the army, so as to make room for the Principi, if he wanted to push them forward. I would desire, therefore, that you tell me what reason motivated him not to observe the accustomed arrangement.

FABRIZIO

I will tell you. Hannibal had placed all the virtu of his army in the second line; whence Scipio, in order to oppose a similar virtu to it, assembled the Principi and the Triari; so that the intervals of the Principi being occupied by the Triari, there was no place to receive the Astati, and therefore, he caused the Astati to be divided and enter the wings of the army, and did not bring them among the Principi. But take note that this method of opening up the first lines to make a place for the second, cannot be employed except when the other are superior, because then the convenience exists to be able to do it, as Scipio was able to. But being inferior and repulsed, it cannot be done except with your manifest ruin: and, therefore, you must have ranks in the rear which will receive you. But let us return to our discussion. The ancient Asiatics ((among other things thought up by them to injure the enemy)) used chariots which had scythes on their sides, so that they not only served to open up the lines with their attack, but also kill the adversary with the scythes. Provisions against these attacks were made in three ways. It was resisted by the density of the ranks, or they were received within the lines as were the Elephants, or a stalwart resistance was made with some stratagems, as did Sulla, the Roman, against Archelaus, who had many of those chariots which they called Falcati; he (Sulla), in order to resist them, fixed many poles in the ground behind the first ranks, by which the chariots, being resisted, lost their impetus. And note is to be taken of the new method which Sulla used against this man in arranging the army, since he put the Veliti and the cavalry in the rear, and all the heavily armed in front, leaving many intervals in order to be able to send those in the rear forward if necessity should require it; whence when the battle was started, with the aid of the cavalry, to whom he gave the way, he obtained the victory. To want to worry the enemy during the battle, something must be made to happen which dismays him, either by announcing new help which is arriving, or by showing things which look like it, so that the enemy, being deceived by that sight, becomes frightened; and when he is frightened, can be easily overcome. These methods were used by the Roman Consuls Minucius Rufus and Accilius Glabrius, Caius Sulpicius also placed many soldier-packs on mules and other animals useless in war, but in a manner that they looked like men-at-arms, and commanded that they appear on a hill while they were (in) hand to hand (combat) with the Gauls: whence his victory resulted. Marius did the same when he was fighting against the Germans. Feigned assaults, therefore, being of great value while the battle lasts, it happens that many are benefited by the real (assaults), especially if, improvised in the middle of the battle, it is able to attack the enemy from behind or on the sides. Which can be done only with difficulty, unless the (nature of the) country helps you; for if it is open, part of your forces cannot be speeded, as must be done in such enterprises: but in wooded or mountainous places, and hence capable of ambush, part of your forces can be well hidden, so that the enemy may be assaulted, suddenly and without his expecting it, which will always be the cause of giving you the victory. And sometimes it has been very important, while the battle goes on, to plant voices which announce the killed of the enemy Captain, or to have defeated some other part of the army; and this often has given the victory to whoever used it. The enemy cavalry may be easily disturbed by unusual forms (sights) or noises; as did Croesus, who opposed camels to the cavalry of his adversaries, and Pyrrhus who opposed elephants to the Roman cavalry, the sight of which disturbed and disorganized it. In our times, the Turk routed the Shah in Persia and the Soldan in Syria with nothing else than the noise of guns, which so affected their cavalry by their unaccustomed noises, that the Turk was able easily to defeat it. The Spaniards, to overcome the army of Hamilcar, placed in their first lines chariots full of tow drawn by oxen, and when they had come to battle, set fire to them, whence the oxen, wanting to flee the fire, hurled themselves on the army of Hamilcar and dispersed it. As we mentioned, where the country is suitable, it is usual to deceive the enemy when in combat by drawing him into ambushes: but when it is open and spacious, many have employed the making (digging) of ditches, and then covering them lightly with earth and branches, but leaving several places (spaces) solid in order to be able to retire between them; then when the battle is started, retire through them, and the enemy pursuing, comes to ruin in them. If, during the battle, some accident befalls you which dismays your soldiers, it is a most prudent thing to know how to dissimulate and divert them to (something) good, as did Lucius Sulla, who, while the fighting was going on, seeing that a great part of his forces had gone over to the side of the enemy, and that this had dismayed his men, quickly caused it to be understood throughout the entire army that everything was happening by his order, and this not only did not disturb the army, but so increased its courage that it was victorious. It also happened to Sulla, that having sent certain soldiers to undertake certain business, and they having been killed, in order that his army would not be dismayed said, that because he had found them unfaithful, he had cunningly sent them into the hands of the enemy. Sertorious, when undertaking an engagement in Spain, killed one who had pointed out to him the slaying of one of his Heads, for fear that by telling the same to the others, he should dismay them. It is a difficult matter to stop an army already in flight, and return it to battle. And you have to make this distinction: either they are entirely in flight (motion), and here it is impossible to return them: or only a part are in flight, and here there is some remedy. Many Roman Captains, by getting in front of those fleeing, have stopped them, by making them ashamed of their flight, as did Lucius Sulla, who, when a part of his Legions had already turned, driven by the forces of Mithradates, with his sword in hand he got in front of them and shouted, “if anyone asks you where you have left your Captain, tell them, we have left him in Boetia fighting.” The Consul Attilius opposed those who fled with those who did not flee, and made them understand that if they did not turn about, they would be killed by both friends and enemies. Phillip of Macedonia, when he learned that his men were afraid of the Scythian soldiers, put some of his most trusted cavalry behind his army, and commissioned them to kill anyone who fled; whence his men, preferring to die fighting rather than in flight, won. Many Romans, not so much in order to stop a flight, as to give his men an occasion to exhibit greater prowess, while they were fighting, have taken a banner out of their hands, and tossing it amid the enemy, offered rewards to whoever would recover it.

I do not believe it is out of order to add to this discussion those things that happen after a battle, especially as they are brief, and not to be omitted, and conform greatly to this discussion. I will tell you, therefore, how engagements are lost, or are won. When one wins, he ought to follow up the victory with all speed, and imitate Caesar in this case, and not Hannibal, who, because he had stopped after he had defeated the Romans at Cannae, lost the Empire of Rome. The other (Caesar) never rested after a victory, but pursued the routed enemy with great impetus and fury, until he had completely assaulted it. But when one loses, a Captain ought to see if something useful to him can result from this loss, especially if some residue of the army remains to him. An opportunity can arise from the unawareness of the enemy, which frequently becomes obscured after a victory, and gives you the occasion to attack him; as Martius, the Roman, attacked the Carthaginian army, which, having killed the two Scipios and defeated their armies, thought little of that remnant of the forces who, with Martius, remained alive; and was (in turn) attacked and routed by him. It is seen, therefore, that there is nothing so capable of success as that which the enemy believes you cannot attempt, because men are often injured more when they are less apprehensive. A Captain ought, therefore, when he cannot do this, at least endeavor with industry to restrict the injury caused by the defeat. And to do this, it is necessary for you to take steps that the enemy is not able to follow you easily, or give him cause for delay. In the first case some, after they realize they are losing, order their Leaders to flee in several parts by different paths, having (first) given an order where they should afterward reassemble, so that the enemy, fearing to divide his forces, would leave all or a greater part of them safe. In the second case, many have thrown down their most precious possessions in front of the enemy, so that being retarded by plundering, he gave them more time for flight. Titus Dimius used not a little astuteness in hiding the injury received in battle; for, after he had fought until nightfall with a loss of many of his men, caused a good many of them to be buried during the night; whence in the morning, the enemy seeing so many of their dead and so few Romans, believing they had had the disadvantage, fled. I believe I have thus confused you, as I said, (but) satisfied your question in good part: it is true, that concerning the shape of the army, there remains for me to tell you how sometimes it is customary for some Captains to make the front in the form of a wedge, judging in that way to be able more readily to open (penetrate) the Army of the enemy. In opposition to this shape they customarily would use a form of a scissor, so as to be able to receive that wedge into that space, and surround and fight it from every side. On this, I would like you to have this general rule, that the greatest remedy used against the design of the enemy, is to do that willingly which he designs for you to do by force, because doing it willingly you do it with order and to your advantage, but to his disadvantage: if you should do it by force, it would be to your ruin. As to the fortifying of this, I would not care to repeat anything already said. Does the adversary make a wedge in order to open your ranks? if you proceed with yours open, you disorganize him, and he does not disorganize you. Hannibal placed Elephants in front of his Army to open that of the Army of Scipio; Scipio went with his open and was the cause of his own victory and the ruin of the former (Hannibal). Hasdrubal placed his most stalwart forces in the center of the van of his Army to push back the forces of Scipio: Scipio commanded in like fashion that they should retire, and defeated him. So that such plans, when they are put forward, are the cause for the victory of him against whom they were organized. It remains for me yet, if I remember well, to tell you what considerations a Captain ought to take into account before going into battle: upon which I have to tell you first that a Captain never has to make an engagement, if he does not have the advantage, or if he is not compelled to. Advantages arise from the location, from the organization, and from having either greater or better forces. Necessity, (compulsion) arises when you see that, by not fighting, you must lose in an event; for example, when you see you are about to lack money, and therefore your Army has to be dissolved in any case; when hunger is about to assail you, or when you expect the enemy to be reinforced again by new forces. In these cases, one ought always to fight, even at your disadvantage; for it is much better to try your fortune when it can favor you, than by not trying, see your ruin sure: and in such a case, it is as serious an error for a Captain not to fight, as it is to pass up an opportunity to win, either from ignorance, or from cowardice. The enemy sometimes gives you the advantage, and sometimes (it derives from) your prudence. Many have been routed while crossing a river by an alert enemy of theirs, who waited until they were in the middle of the stream, and then assaulted them on every side; as Caesar did to the Swiss, where he destroyed a fourth part of them, after they had been split by the river. Some time you may find your enemy tired from having pursued you too inconsiderately, so that, finding yourself fresh, and rested, you ought not to lose such an opportunity. In addition to this, if an enemy offers you battle at a good hour of the morning, you can delay going out of your encampment for many hours: and if he has been under arms for a long time, and has lost that first ardor with which he started, you can then fight with him. Scipio and Metellus employed this method in Spain, the first against Hasdrubal, and the other against Sertorius. If the enemy has diminished in strength, either from having divided the Armies, as the Scipios (did) in Spain, or from some other cause, you ought to try (your) fortune. The greater part of prudent Captains would rather receive the onrush of the enemy, who impetuously go to assault them, for their fury is easily withstood by firm and resolute men, and that fury which was withstood, easily converts itself into cowardice. Fabius acted thusly against the Samnites and against the Gauls, and was victorious, but his colleague, Decius was killed. Some who feared the virtu of their enemy, have begun the battle at an hour near nightfall, so that if their men were defeated, they might be able to be protected by its darkness and save themselves. Some, having known that the enemy Army, because of certain superstitions, does not want to undertake fighting at such a time, selected that time for battle, and won: which Caesar did in Gaul against Ariovistus, and Vespatianus in Syria against the Jews. The greater and more important awareness that a Captain ought to have, is (to see) that he has about him, men loyal and most expert in war, and prudent, with whom he counsels continually, and discusses his forces and those of the enemy with them: which are the greater in number, which are better armed or better trained, which are more apt to suffer deprivation, which to confide in more, the infantry or the cavalry. Also, they consider the location in which they are, and if it is more suitable for the enemy than for themselves; which of them has the better convenience of supply; whether it is better to delay the engagement or undertake it, and what benefit the weather might give you or take away from them; for often when the soldiers see the war becoming long, they become irritable, and weary from hard work and tedium, will abandon you. Above all, it is important for the Captain to know the enemy, and who he has around him: if he is foolhardy or cautious: if timid or audacious. See whether you can trust the auxiliary soldiers. And above all, you ought to guard against leading an army into battle which is afraid, or distrustful in any way of victory, for the best indication of defeat is when one believes he cannot win. And, therefore, in this case, you ought to avoid an engagement, either by doing as Fabius Maximus did, who, by encamping in strong places, did not give Hannibal courage to go and meet him, or by believing that the enemy, also in strong places, should come to meet you, you should depart from the field, and divide your forces among your towns, so that the tedium of capturing them will tire him.

ZANOBI

Can he not avoid the engagement in other ways than by dividing it (the army) into several parts, and putting them in towns?

FABRIZIO

I believe at another time I have discussed with some of you that whoever is in the field, cannot avoid an engagement if he has an enemy who wants to fight in any case; and he has but one remedy, and that is to place himself with his Army at least fifty miles distant from his adversary, so as to be in time to get out of his way if he should come to meet him. And Fabius Maximus never avoided an engagement with Hannibal, but wanted it at his advantage; and Hannibal did not presume to be able to overcome him by going to meet him in the places where he was encamped. But if he supposed he could defeat him, it was necessary for Fabius to undertake an engagement with him in any case, or to flee. Phillip, King of Macedonia, he who was the father of Perseus, coming to war with the Romans, placed his encampment on a very high mountain so as not to have an engagement with them; but the Romans went to meet him on that mountain, and routed him. Vercingetorix, a Captain of the Gauls, in order to avoid an engagement with Caesar, who unexpectedly had crossed the river, placed himself miles distant with his forces. The Venetians in our times, if they did not want to come to an engagement with the King of France, ought not to have waited until the French Army had crossed the Adda, but should have placed themselves distant from him, as did Vercingetorix: whence, having waited for him, they did not know how to take the opportunity of undertaking an engagement during the crossing, nor how to avoid it; for the French being near to them, as the Venetians decamped, assaulted and routed them. And so it is, that an engagement cannot be avoided if the enemy at all events wants to undertake it. Nor does anyone cite Fabius, for he avoided an engagement in cases like that, just as much as did Hannibal. It often happens that your soldiers are not willing to fight, and you know that because of their number or the location, or from some other cause, you have a disadvantage, and would like them to change their minds. It also happens that necessity or opportunity constrains you to (come to) an engagement, and that your soldiers are discontent and little disposed to fight, whence it is necessary for you in one case to frighten them, and in the other to excite them. In the first instance, if persuasion is not enough, there is no better way to have both those who fight and those who would not believe you, than to give some of them over to the enemy as plunder. It may also be well to do with cunning that which happened to Fabius Maximus at home. The Army of Fabius desired ((as you know)) to fight with the Army of Hannibal: his Master of cavalry had the same desire. It did not seem proper to Fabius to attempt the battle, so that in order to dispel such (desires), he had to divide the Army. Fabius kept his men in the encampments: and the other (the Master of cavalry) going forth, and coming into great danger, would have been routed, if Fabius had not succored him. By this example, the Master of the cavalry, together with the entire army, realized it was a wise course to obey Fabius. As to exciting them to fight, it is well to make them angry at the enemy, by pointing out that (the enemy) say slanderous things of them, and showing them to have with their intelligence (in the enemy camp) and having corrupted some part, to encamp on the side where they see they enemy, and undertake some light skirmishes with them; because things that are seen daily are more easily disparaged. By showing yourself indignant, and by making an oration in which you reproach them for their laziness, you make them so ashamed by saying you want to fight only if they do not accompany you. And above every thing, to have this awareness, if you want to make the soldiers obstinate in battle, not to permit them to send home any of their possessions, or settle in any place, until the war ends, so that they understand that if flight saves them their lives, it will not save them their possessions, the love of the latter, not less than the former, renders men obstinate in defense.

ZANOBI

You have told how soldiers can be made to turn and fight, by talking to them. Do you mean by this that he has to talk to the entire Army, or to its Heads?

FABRIZIO

To persuade or dissuade a few from something, is very easy; for if words are not enough, you can use authority and force: but the difficulty is to take away a sinister idea from a multitude, whether it may be in agreement or contrary to your own opinion, where only words can be used, which, if you want to persuade everyone, must be heard by everyone. Captains, therefore, must be excellent Orators, for without knowing how to talk to the entire Army, good things can only be done with difficulty. Which, in these times of ours, is completely done away with. Read the life (biography) of Alexander the Great, and see how many times it was necessary to harangue and speak publicly to the Army; otherwise he could never have them led them ((having become rich and full of plunder)) through the deserts of Arabia and into India with so much hardship and trouble; for infinite numbers of things arose by which an Army is ruined if a Captain does not know how or is not accustomed to talking to it; for this speaking takes away fear, incites courage, increases obstinacy, and sweeps away deceptions, promises rewards, points out dangers and the ways to avoid them, reprimands, begs, threatens, fills with hope, praises, slanders, and does all those things by which human passion are extinguished or enkindled. Whence that Prince or Republic planning to raise a new army, and to give this army reputation, ought to accustom the soldiers to listen to the talk of the Captain, and the Captain to know how to talk to them. Religion was (also) of much value in keeping the ancient soldiers well disposed and an oath was given to (taken by) them when they came into the army; for whenever they made a mistake, they were threatened not only by those evils that can be feared by men, but also by those that can be expected from the Deity. This practice, mixed with other religious means, often made an entire enterprise easy for the ancient Captains, and would always be so whenever religion was feared and observed. Sertorius availed himself of this when he told of talking with a Hind (female stag), which promised him victory on the part of the Deity. Sulla was said to talk with a Statue which he had taken from the Temple of Apollo. Many have told of God appearing to them in their sleep, and admonishing them to fight. In the times of our fathers, Charles the seventh, King of France, in the war he waged against the English, was said to counsel with a young girl sent by God, who is called the Maid of France, and who was the cause for victory. You can also take means to make your (soldiers) value the enemy little, as Agesilaus the Spartan did, who showed his soldiers some Persians in the nude, so that seeing their delicate members, they should have no cause for being afraid of them. Some have constrained them to fight from necessity, by removing from their paths all hope of saving themselves, except through victory. This is the strongest and the best provision that can be made when you want to make your soldiers obstinate. Which obstinacy is increased by the confidence and the love either of the Captain or of the Country. Confidence is instilled by arms organization, fresh victories, and the knowledge of the Captain. Love of Country springs from nature: that of the Captain from (his) virtu more than any other good event. Necessities can be many, but that is the strongest, which constrains you either to win or to die.

BOOK V.

FABRIZIO

I have shown you how to organize an army to battle another army which is seen posted against you, and I have told you how it is overcome, and also of the many circumstances which can occur because of the various incidents surrounding it, so that it appears to me now to be the time to show you how to organize an army against an enemy which is unseen, but which you are continually afraid will assault you. This happens when marching through country which is hostile, or suspected (of being so). And first you have to understand that a Roman Army ordinarily always sent ahead some groups of cavalry as observers for the march. Afterwards the right wing followed. After this came all the wagons which pertained to it. After those, another Legion, and next its wagons. After these come the left wing with its wagon in the rear, and the remainder of the cavalry followed in the last part. This was in effect the manner in which one ordinarily marched. And if it happened that the Army should be assaulted on the march in front or from the rear, they quickly caused all the wagons to be withdrawn either on the right, or on the left, according as it happened, or rather as best they could depending on the location, and all the forces together, free from their baggage, set up a front on that side from which the enemy was coming. If they were assaulted on the flank, they would withdraw the wagons to the side which was secure, and set up a front on the other. This method being good, and prudently conducted, appears to me ought to be imitated, sending cavalry ahead to observe the country, then having four battalions, having them march in line, and each with its wagons in the rear. And as the wagons are of two kinds, that is, those pertaining to individual soldiers, and the public ones for use by the whole camp, I would divide the public wagons into four parts, and assign a part to each Battalion, also dividing the artillery and all the unarmed men, so that each one of those armed should have its equal share of impedimenta. But as it sometimes happens that one marches in a country not only suspect, but hostile in fact, that you are afraid of being attacked hourly, in order to go on more securely, you are compelled to change the formation of the march, and go on in the regular way, so that in some unforeseen place, neither the inhabitants nor the Army can injure you. In such a case, the ancient Captains usually went on with the Army in squares, for such they called these formations, not because it was entirely square, but because it was capable of fighting on four sides, and they said that they were going prepared either for marching or for battle. I do not want to stray far from this method, and want to arrange my two Battalions, which I have taken as a rule for an Army, in this manner. If you want, therefore, to walk securely through the enemy country, and be able to respond from every side, if you had been assaulted by surprise, and wanting, in accordance with the ancients, to bring it into a square, I would plan to make a square whose hollow was two hundred arm lengths on every side in this manner. I would first place the flanks, each distant from the other by two hundred twelve arm lengths, and would place five companies in each flank in a file along its length, and distant from each other three arm lengths; these would occupy their own space, each company occupying (a space) forty arm lengths by two hundred twelve arm lengths. Between the front and rear of these two flanks, I would place another ten companies, five on each side, arranging them in such a way that four should be next to the front of the right flank, and five at the rear of the left flank, leaving between each one an interval (gap) of four arm lengths: one of which should be next to the front of the left flank, and one at the rear of the right flank. And as the space existing between the one flank and the other is two hundred twelve arm lengths, and these companies placed alongside each other by their width and not length, they would come to occupy, with the intervals, one hundred thirty four arm lengths, (and) there would be between the four companies placed on the front of the right flank, and one placed on the left, a remaining space of seventy eight arm lengths, and a similar space be left among the companies placed in the rear parts; and there would be no other difference, except that one space would be on the rear side toward the right wing, the other would be on the front side toward the left wing. In the space of seventy eight arm lengths in front, I would place all the ordinary Veliti, and in that in the rear the extraordinary Veliti, who would come to be a thousand per space. And if you want that the space taken up by the Army should be two hundred twelve arm lengths on every side, I would see that five companies are placed in front, and those that are placed in the rear, should not occupy any space already occupied by the flanks, and therefore I would see that the five companies in the rear should have their front touch the rear of their flanks, and those in front should have their rear touch the front (of their flanks), so that on every side of that army, space would remain to receive another company. And as there are four spaces, I would take four banners away from the extraordinary pikemen and would put one on every corner: and the two banners of the aforementioned pikemen left to me, I would place in the middle of the hollow of their army (formed) in a square of companies, at the heads of which the general Captain would remain with his men around him. And as these companies so arranged all march in one direction, but not all fight in one, in putting them together, one has to arrange which sides are not guarded by other companies during the battle. And, therefore, it ought to be considered that the five companies in front protect all the other sides, except the front; and therefore these have to be assembled in an orderly manner (and) with the pikemen in front. The five companies behind protect all the sides, except the side in the back; and therefore ought to be assembled so that the pikemen are in the rear, as we will demonstrate in its place. The five companies on the right flank protect all the sides, from the right flank outward. The five on the left, engird all the sides, from the left flank outward: and therefore in arranging the companies, the pikemen ought to be placed so that they turn by that flank which in uncovered. And as the Heads of Ten are placed in the front and rear, so that when they have to fight, all the army and its members are in their proper places, the manner of accomplishing this was told when we discussed the methods of arranging the companies. I would divide the artillery, and one part I would place outside the right flank, and the other at the left. I would send the light cavalry ahead to reconnoiter the country. Of the men-at-arms, I would place part in the rear on the right wing, and part on the left, distant forty arms lengths from the companies. And no matter how you arrange your Army, you have to take up ((as the cavalry)) this general (rule), that you have to place them always either in the rear or on the flanks. Whoever places them ahead in front of the Army must do one of two things: either he places them so far ahead, that if they are repulsed they have so much room to give them time to be able to obtain shelter for themselves from your infantry and not collide with them; or to arrange them (the infantry) with so many intervals, that by means of them the cavalry can enter among them without disorganizing them. Let not anyone think little of this instruction, because many, not being aware of this, have been ruined, and have been disorganized and routed by themselves. The wagons and the unarmed men are placed in the plaza that exists within the Army, and so compartmented, that they easily make way for whoever wants to go from one side to the other, or from one front of the Army to the other. These companies, without artillery and cavalry, occupy two hundred eighty two arm lengths of space on the outside in every direction. And as this square is composed of two Battalions, it must be devised as to which part one Battalion makes up, and which part the other. And since the Battalions are called by number, and each of them has ((as you know)) ten companies and a general Head, I would have the first Battalion place its first five companies in the front, the other five on the left flank, and the Head should be in the left angle of the front. The first five companies of the second Battalion then should be placed on the right flank, and the other five in the rear, and the Head should be in the right angle, who would undertake the office of the Tergiduttore.

The Army organized in this manner is ready to move, and in its movement should completely observe this arrangement: and without doubt it is secure from all the tumults of the inhabitants. Nor ought the Captain make other provisions against these tumultuous assaults, than sometime to give a commission to some cavalry or band of Veliti to put them in their place. Nor will it ever happen that these tumultuous people will come to meet you within the drawing of a sword or pike, because disorderly people are afraid of order; and it will always be seen that they make a great assault with shouts and noises without otherwise approaching you in the way of yelping dogs around a mastiff. Hannibal, when he came to harm from the Romans in Italy, passed through all of France, and always took little account of the tumults of the French. When you want to march, you must have levellers and men with pick axes ahead who clear the road for you, and who are well protected by that cavalry sent ahead to reconnoiter. An Army will march in this order ten miles a day, and enough Sun (light will remain for them to dine and camp, since ordinarily an Army marches twenty miles. If it happens that it is assaulted by an organized Army, this assault cannot arise suddenly, because an organized Army travels at its own rate (step), so that you are always in time to reorganize for the engagement, and quickly bring yourself to that formation, or similar to that formation of the Army, which I showed you above. For if you are assaulted on the front side, you do nothing except (to have) the artillery in the flanks and the cavalry behind come forward and take those places and with those distances mentioned above. The thousand Veliti who are forward, come forth from their positions, and dividing into groups of a hundred, enter into their places between the cavalry and the wings of the Army. Then, into the voids left by them, enter the two bands of extraordinary pikemen which I had placed in the plaza of the Army. The thousand Veliti that I had placed in the rear depart from there, and distribute themselves among the flanks of the companies to strengthen them: and from the open space they leave all the wagons and unarmed men issue forth and place themselves at the rear of the companies. The plaza, therefore, remains vacant as everyone has gone to their places, and the five companies that I placed in the rear of the Army come forward through the open void that exists between the one and the other flank, and march toward the company in the front, and the three approach them at forty arm lengths with equal intervals between one another, and two remain behind distant another forty arm lengths. This formation can be organized quickly, and comes to be almost the same as the first disposition of the Army which we described before: and if it becomes more straitened in the front, it becomes larger in the flanks, which does not weaken it. But as the five companies in the back have their pikemen in the rear for the reasons mentioned above, it is necessary to have them come from the forward part, if you want them to get behind the front of the Army; and, therefore, one must either make them turn company by company, as a solid body, or make them enter quickly between the ranks of the shield-bearers (swordsmen), and bring them forward; which method is more swift and less disorderly than to make them turn. And thus you ought to do with all those who are in the rear in every kind of assault, as I will show you. If it should happen that the enemy comes from the rear, the first thing that ought to be done is to have everyone turn to face the enemy, so that at once the front of the army becomes the rear, and the rear the front. Then all those methods of organizing the front should be followed, which I mentioned above. If the enemy attacks on the right flank, the entire army ought to be made to face in that direction, and then those things ought to be done to strengthen that (new) front which were mentioned above, so that the cavalry, the Veliti, and the artillery are in the position assigned in this front. There is only this difference, that in the changing of fronts, of those who move about, some have to go further, and some less. It is indeed true that when a front is made of the right flank, the Veliti would have to enter the intervals (gaps) that exist between the wings of the Army, and the cavalry would be those nearer to the left flank, in the position of those who would have to enter into the two bands of extraordinary pikemen placed in the center. But before they enter, the wagons and unarmed men stationed at the openings, should clear the plaza and retire behind the left flank, which then becomes the rear of the army. And the other Veliti who should be placed in the rear according to the original arrangement, in this case should not be changed, as that place should not remain open, which, from being the rear, would become a flank. All the other things ought to be done as was said concerning the first front.

What has been said concerning making a front from the right flank, is intended also in making one from the left flank, since the same arrangements ought to be observed. If the enemy should happen to be large and organized to assault you on two sides, the two sides on which he assaults you ought to be strengthened from the two that are not assaulted, doubling the ranks in each one, and distributing the artillery, Veliti, and cavalry among each side. If he comes from three or four sides, it needs must be either you or he lacks prudence, for if you were wise, you would never put yourself on the side where the enemy could assault you from three or four sides with large and organized forces, and if he wanted to attach you in safety he must be so large and assault you on each side with a force almost as large as you have in your entire Army. And if you are so little prudent that you put yourself in the midst of the territory and forces of an enemy, who has three times the organized forces that you have, you cannot complain if evil happens to you, except of yourself. If it happens, not by your fault, but by some misadventure, the injury will be without shame, and it will happen to you as it did to the Scipios in Spain, and the Hasdrubal in Italy. But if the enemy has a much larger force than you, and in order to disorganize you wants to assault you on several sides, it will be his foolishness and his gamble; for to do this, he must go (spread) himself thin, that you can always attack on one side and resist on another, and in a brief time ruin him. This method of organizing an Army which is not seen, but who is feared, is necessary, and it is a most useful thing to accustom your soldiers to assemble, and march in such order, and in marching arrange themselves to fight according to the first front (planned), and then return to marching formation, from that make a front from the rear, and then from the flank, and from that return to the original formation. These exercises and accustomization are necessary matters if you want a disciplined and trained Army. Captains and Princes have to work hard at these things: nor is military discipline anything else, than to know how to command and how to execute these things, nor is a disciplined Army anything else, than an army which is well trained in these arrangements; nor would it be possible for anyone in these times who should well employ such discipline ever to be routed. And if this square formation which I have described is somewhat difficult, such difficulty is necessary, if you take it up as exercise; since knowing how to organize and maintain oneself well in this, one would afterwards know how to manage more easily those which not be as difficult.

ZANOBI

I believe as you say, that these arrangements are very necessary, and by myself, I would not know what to add or leave out. It is true that I desire to know two things from you: the one, when you want to make a front from the rear or from a flank, and you want them to turn, whether the command is given by voice or by sound (bugle call): the other, whether those you sent ahead to clear the roads in order to make a path for the Army, ought to be soldiers of your companies, or other lowly people assigned to such practices.

FABRIZIO

Your first question is very important, for often the commands of the Captain are not very well understood or poorly interpreted, have disorganized their Army; hence the voices with which they command in (times of) danger, ought to be loud and clear. And if you command with sounds (bugle calls), it ought to be done so that they are so different from each other that one cannot be mistaken for another; and if you command by voice, you ought to be alert to avoid general words, and use particular ones, and of the particular ones avoid those which might be able to be interpreted in an incorrect manner. Many times saying “go back, go back”, has caused an Army to be ruined: therefore this expression ought to be avoided, and in its place use “Retreat”. If you want them to turn so as to change the front, either from the rear or from the flank, never use “Turn around”, but say, “To the left”, “To the right”, “To the rear”, “To the front”. So too, all the other words have to be simple and clear, as “Hurry”, “Hold still”, “Forward”, “Return”. And all those things which can be done by words are done, the others are done by sounds (calls). As to the (road) clearers, which is your second question, I would have this job done by my own soldiers, as much because the ancient military did so, as also because there would be fewer unarmed men and less impediments in the army: and I would draw the number needed from every company, and I would have them take up the tools suitable for clearing, and leave their arms in those ranks that are closest to them, which would carry them so that if the enemy should come, they would have nothing to do but take them up again and return to their ranks.

ZANOBI

Who would carry the clearing equipment?

FABRIZIO

The wagons assigned to carry such equipment.

ZANOBI

I’m afraid you have never led these soldiers of ours to dig.

FABRIZIO

Everything will be discussed in its place. For now I want to leave these parts alone, and discuss the manner of living of the Army, for it appears to me that having worked them so hard, it is time to refresh and restore it with food. You have to understand that a Prince ought to organize his army as expeditiously as possible, and take away from it all those things that add burdens to it and make the enterprise difficult. Among those that cause more difficulty, are to have to keep the army provided with wine and baked bread. The ancients did not think of wine, for lacking it, they drank water tinted with a little vinegar, and not wine. They did not cook bread in ovens, as is customary throughout the cities; but they provided flour, and every soldier satisfied himself of that in his own way, having lard and grease for condiment, which gave flavor to the bread they made, and which kept them strong. So that the provisions of living (eating) for the army were Flour, Vinegar, Lard (Bacon) and Grease (Lard), and Barley for the horses. Ordinarily, they had herds of large and small beasts that followed the Army, which ((as they did not need to be carried)) did not impede them much. This arrangement permitted an ancient Army to march, sometimes for many days, through solitary and difficult places without suffering hardship of (lack of) provisions, for it lived from things which could be drawn behind. The contrary happens in modern Armies, which, as they do not want to lack wine and eat baked bread in the manner that those at home do, and of which they cannot make provision for long, often are hungry; or even if they are provided, it is done with hardship and at very great expense. I would therefore return my Army to this form of living, and I would not have them eat other bread than that which they should cook for themselves. As to wine, I would not prohibit its drinking, or that it should come into the army, but I would not use either industry or any hard work to obtain it, and as to other provisions, I would govern myself entirely as the ancients. If you would consider this matter well, you will see how much difficulty is removed, and how many troubles and hardships an army and a Captain avoid, and what great advantage it will give any enterprise which you may want to undertake.

ZANOBI

We have overcome the enemy in the field, and then marched on his country: reason wants that there be no booty, ransoming of towns, prisoners taken. Yet I would like to know how the ancients governed themselves in these matters.

FABRIZIO

Here, I will satisfy you. I believe you have considered ((since I have at another time discussed this with some of you)) that modern wars impoverish as much those Lords who win, as those who lose; for if one loses the State, the other loses his money and (movable) possessions. Which anciently did not happen, as the winner of a war (then) was enriched. This arises from not keeping track in these times of the booty (acquired), as was done anciently, but everything is left to the direction of the soldiers. This method makes for two very great disorders: the one, that of which I have spoken: the other, that a soldier becomes more desirous of booty and less an observer of orders: and it has often been said that the cupidity for booty has made him lose who had been victorious. The Romans, however, who were Princes in this matter, provided for both these inconveniences, ordering that all the booty belong to the public, and that hence the public should dispense it as it pleased. And so they had Quaestors in the Army, who were, as we would say, chamberlains, to whom all the ransoms and booty was given to hold: from which the Consul served himself to give the soldiers their regular pay, to help the wounded and infirm, and to provide for the other needs of the army. The Consul could indeed, and often did, concede a booty to the soldiers, but this concession did not cause disorders; for when the (enemy) army was routed, all the booty was placed in the middle and was distributed to each person, according to the merits of each. This method made for the soldiers attending to winning and not robbing, and the Roman legions defeating the enemy but not pursuing him: for they never departed from their orders: only the cavalry and lightly armed men pursued him, unless there were other soldiers than legionnaires, which, if the booty would have been kept by whoever acquired it, it was neither possible nor reasonable to (expect to) hold the Legion firm, and would bring on many dangers. From this it resulted, therefore that the public was enriched, and every Consul brought, with his triumphs, much treasure into the Treasury, which (consisted) entirely of ransoms and booty. Another thing well considered by the ancients, was the pay they gave to each soldier: they wanted a third part to be placed next to him who carried the flag of the company, who never was given any except that furnished by the war. They did this for two reasons: The first so that the soldier would make capital (save) of his pay: for the greater part of them being young and irresponsible, the more they had, the more they spent without need to. The other part because, knowing that their movable possessions were next to the flag, they would be forced to have greater care, and defend it with greater obstinacy: and thus this method made them savers, and strong. All of these things are necessary to observe if you want to bring the military up to your standards.

ZANOBI

I believe it is not possible for an army while marching from place to place not to encounter dangerous incidents, (and) where the industry of the Captain and the virtu of the soldier is needed if they are to be avoided; therefore, if you should have something that occurs to you, I would take care to listen.

FABRIZIO

I will willingly content you, especially as it is necessary, if I want to give you complete knowledge of the practice. The Captains, while they march with the Army, ought, above everything else, to guard against ambushes, which may happen in two ways: either you enter into them while marching, or the enemy cunningly draws you into them without your being aware of it. In the first case, if you want to avoid them, it is necessary to send ahead double the guard, who reconnoiter the country. And the more the country is suitable for ambush, as are wooded and mountainous countries, the more diligence ought to be used, for the enemy always place themselves either in woods or behind a hill. And, just as by not foreseeing an ambush you will be ruined, so by foreseeing it you will not be harmed. Birds or dust have often discovered the enemy, for where the enemy comes to meet you, he will always raise a great dust which will point out his coming to you. Thus often a Captain when he sees in a place whence he ought to pass, pigeons taking off and other birds flying about freely, circling and not setting, has recognized this to be the place of any enemy ambush, and knowing this has sent his forces forward, saving himself and injuring the enemy. As to the second case, being drawn into it ((which our men call being drawn into a trap)) you ought to look out not to believe readily those things that appear to be less reasonable than they should be: as would be (the case) if an enemy places some booty before you, you would believe that it to be (an act of) love, but would conceal deceit inside it. If many enemies are driven out by few of your man: if only a few of the enemy assault you: if the enemy takes to sudden and unreasonable flight: in such cases, you ought always to be afraid of deceit; and you should never believe that the enemy does not know his business, rather, if you want to deceive yourself less and bring on less danger, the more he appears weak, the more enemy appears more cautious, so much the more ought you to esteem (be wary) of him. And in this you have to use two different means, since you have to fear him with your thoughts and arrangements, but by words and other external demonstrations show him how much you disparage him; for this latter method causes your soldiers to have more hope in obtaining the victory, the former makes you more cautious and less apt to be deceived. And you have to understand that when you march through enemy country, you face more and greater dangers than in undertaking an engagement. And therefore, when marching, a Captain ought to double his diligence, and the first thing he ought to do, is to have all the country through which he marches described and depicted, so that he will know the places, the numbers, the distances, the roads, the mountains, the rivers, the marshes, and all their characteristics. And in getting to know this, in diverse ways one must have around him different people who know the places, and question them with diligence, and contrast their information, and make notes according as it checks out. He ought to send cavalry ahead, and with them prudent Heads, not so much to discover the enemy as to reconnoiter the country, to see whether it checks with the places and with the information received from them. He ought also to send out guides, guarded (kept loyal) by hopes of reward and fear of punishment. And above all, he ought to see to it that the Army does not know to which sides he guides them, since there is nothing more useful in war, than to keep silent (about) the things that have to be done. And so that a sudden assault does not disturb your soldiers, you ought to advise them to be prepared with their arms, since things that are foreseen cause less harm. Many have ((in order to avoid the confusion of the march)) placed the wagons and the unarmed men under the banners, and commanded them to follow them, so that having to stop or retire during the march, they are able to do so more easily: which I approve very much as something useful. He ought also to have an awareness during the march, that one part of the Army does not detach itself from another, or that one (part) going faster and the other more slowly, the Army does not become compacted (jumbled), which things cause disorganization. It is necessary, therefore, to place the Heads along the sides, who should maintain the steps uniform, restraining those which are too fast, and hastening the slow; which step cannot be better regulated than by sound (music). The roads ought to be widened, so that at least one company can always move in order. The customs and characteristics of the enemy ought to be considered, and if he wants to assault you in the morning, noon, or night, and if he is more powerful in infantry or cavalry, from what you have learned, you may organize and prepare yourself. But let us come to some incident in particular. It sometimes happens that as you are taking yourself away from in front of the enemy because you judge yourself to be inferior (to him), and therefore do not want to come to an engagement with him, he comes upon your rear as you arrive at the banks of a river, which causes you to lose times in its crossing, so that the enemy is about to join up and combat with you. There have been some who have found themselves in such a peril, their army girded on the rear side by a ditch, and filling it with tow, have set it afire, then have passed on with the army without being able to be impeded by the enemy, he being stopped by that fire which was in between.

ZANOBI

And it is hard for me to believe that this fire can check him, especially as I remember to have heard that Hanno, the Carthaginian, when he was besieged by the enemy, girded himself on that side from which he wanted to make an eruption with wood, and set fire to it. Whence the enemy not being intent to guard that side, had his army pass over the flames, having each (soldier) protect his face from the fire and smoke with his shield.

FABRIZIO

You say well; but consider what I have said and what Hanno did: for I said that he dug a ditch and filled it with tow, so that whoever wanted to pass had to contend with the ditch and the fire. Hanno made the fire without a ditch, and as he wanted to pass through it did not make it very large (strong), since it would have impeded him even without the ditch. Do you not know that Nabidus, the Spartan, when he was besieged in Sparta by the Romans, set fire to part of his own town in order to stop the passage of the Romans, who had already entered inside? and by those flames not only stopped their passage, but pushed them out. But let us return to our subject. Quintus Luttatius, the Roman, having the Cimbri at his rear, and arriving at a river, so that the enemy should give him time to cross, made as if to give him time to combat him, and therefore feigned to make camp there, and had ditches dug, and some pavilions raised, and sent some horses to the camps to be shod: so that the Cimbri believing he was encamping, they also encamped, and divided themselves into several parts to provide themselves with food: of which Luttatius becoming aware, he crossed the river without being able to be impeded by them. Some, in order to cross a river, not having a bridge, have diverted it, and having drawn a part of it in their rear, the other then became so low that they crossed it easily. If the rivers are rapid, (and) desiring that the infantry should cross more safely, the more capable horses are placed on the side above which holds back the water, and another part below which succor the infantry if any, in crossing, should be overcome by the river. Rivers that are not forded, are crossed by bridges, boats, and rafts: and it is therefore well to have skills in your Armies capable of doing all these things. It sometimes happens that in crossing a river, the enemy on the opposite bank impedes you. If you want to overcome this difficulty there is no better example known than that of Caesar, who, having his army on the bank of a river in Gaul, and his crossing being impeded by Vercingetorix, the Gaul, who had his forces on the other side of the river, marched for several days along the river, and the enemy did the same. And Caesar having made an encampment in a woody place (and) suitable to conceal his forces, withdrew three cohorts from every Legion, and had them stop in that place, commanding then that as soon as he should depart, they should throw a bridge across and fortify it, and he with the rest of his forces continued the march: Whence Vercingetorix seeing the number of Legions, and believing that no part had remained behind, also continued the march: but Caesar, as soon as he thought the bridge had been completed, turned back, and finding everything in order, crossed the river without difficulty.

ZANOBI

Do you have any rule for recognizing the fords?

FABRIZIO

Yes, we have. The river, in that part between the stagnant water and the current, always looks like a line to whoever looks at it, is shallower, and is a place more suitable for fording than elsewhere, for the river always places more material, and in a pack, which it draws (with it) from the bottom. Which thing, as it has been experienced many times, is very true.

ZANOBI

If it happens that the river has washed away the bottom of the ford, so that horses sink, what remedy do you have?

FABRIZIO

Make grids of wood, and place them on the bottom of the river, and cross over those. But let us pursue our discussion. If it happens that a Captain with his army is led (caught) between two mountains, and has but two ways of saving himself, either that in front, or the one in the rear, and both being occupied by the enemy, has, as a remedy, to do what some have done in the past, which is to dig a large ditch, difficult to cross, and show the enemy that by it you want to be able to hold him with all his forces, without having to fear those forces in the rear for which the road in front remains open. The enemy believing this, fortifies himself on the side open, and abandons the (side) closed, and he then throws a wooden bridge, planned for such a result, over the ditch, and without any impediment, passes on that side and freed himself from the hands of the enemy. Lucius Minutius, the Roman Consul, was in Liguria with the Armies, and had been enclosed between certain mountains by the enemy, from which he could not go out. He therefore sent some soldiers of Numidia, whom he had in his army, who were badly armed, and mounted on small and scrawny horses, toward those places which were guarded by the enemy, and the first sight of whom caused the enemy to assemble to defend the pass: but then when they saw those forces poorly organized, and also poorly mounted, they esteemed them little and loosened their guard. As soon as the Numidians saw this, giving spurs to their horses and attacking them, they passed by without the enemy being able to take any remedy; and having passed, they wasted and plundered the country, constraining the enemy to leave the pass free to the army of Lucius. Some Captain, who has found himself assaulted by a great multitude of the enemy, has tightened his ranks, and given the enemy the faculty of completely surrounding him, and then has applied force to that part which he has recognized as being weaker, and has made a path in that way, and saved himself. Marcantonio, while retiring before the army of the Parthians, became aware that every day at daybreak as he moved, the enemy assaulted him, and infested him throughout the march: so that he took the course of not departing before midday. So that the Parthians, believing he should not want to decamp that day returned to their quarters, and Marcantonio was able then for the remainder of the day to march without being molested. This same man, to escape the darts of the Parthians, commanded that, when the Parthians came toward them, they should kneel, and the second rank of the company should place their shields on the heads of (those in the) first, the third on (those of the) second, the fourth on the third, and so on successively: so that the entire Army came to be as under a roof, and protected from the darts of the enemy. This is as much as occurs to me to tell you of what can happen to an army when marching: therefore, if nothing else occurs to you, I will pass on to another part.

BOOK VI.

ZANOBI

I believe it is well, since the discussion ought to be changed, that Battista take up his office, and I resign mine; and in this case we would come to imitate the good Captains, according as I have already learned here from the Lord, who place the best soldiers in the front and in the rear of the Army, as it appears necessary to them to have those who bravely enkindle the battle, and those in the rear who bravely sustain it. Cosimo, therefore, begun this discussion prudently, and Battista will prudently finish it. Luigi and I have come in between these. And as each one of us has taken up his part willingly, so too I believe Battista is about to close it.

BATTISTA

I have allowed myself to be governed up to now, so too I will allow myself (to be governed) in the future. Be content, therefore, (my) Lords, to continue your discussions, and if we interrupt you with these questions (practices), you have to excuse us.

FABRIZIO

You do me, as I have already told you, a very great favor, since these interruptions of yours do not take away my imagination, rather they refresh it. But if we want to pursue our subject I say, that it is now time that we quarter this Army of ours, since you know that everything desires repose, and safety; since to repose oneself, and not to repose safely, is not complete (perfect) repose. I am afraid, indeed, that you should not desire that I should first quarter them, then had them march, and lastly to fight, and we have done the contrary. Necessity has led us to this, for in wanting to show when marching, how an army turns from a marching formation to that of battle, it was necessary first to show how they were organized for battle. But returning to our subject I say, that if you want the encampment to be safe, it must be Strong and Organized. The industry of the Captain makes it organized: Arts or the site make it Strong. The Greeks sought strong locations, and never took positions where there was neither grottoes (caves), or banks of rivers, or a multitude of trees, or other natural cover which should protect them. But the Romans did not encamp safely so much from the location as by arts, nor ever made an encampment in places where they should not have been able to spread out all their forces, according to their discipline. From this resulted that the Romans were always able to have one form of encampment, for they wanted the site to obey them, and not they the site. The Greeks were not able to observe this, for as they obeyed the site, and the sites changing the formation, it behooved them that they too should change the mode of encamping and the form of their encampment. The Romans, therefore, where the site lacked strength, supplied it with (their) art and industry. And since in this narration of mine, I have wanted that the Romans be imitated, I will not depart from their mode of encamping, not, however, observing all their arrangements: but taking (only) that part which at the present time seems appropriate to me. I have often told you that the Romans had two Legions of Roman men in their consular armies, which comprised some eleven thousand infantry of forces sent by friends (allies) to aid them; but they never had more foreign soldiers in their armies than Romans, except for cavalry, which they did not care if they exceeded the number in their Legions; and that in every action of theirs, they place the Legions in the center, and the Auxiliaries on the sides. Which method they observed even when they encamped, as you yourselves have been able to read in those who write of their affairs; and therefore I am not about to narrate in detail how they encamped, but will tell you only how I would at present arrange to encamp my army, and then you will know what part of the Roman methods I have treated. You know that at the encounter of two Roman Legions I have taken two Battalions of six thousand infantry and three hundred cavalry effective for each Battalion, and I have divided them by companies, by arms, and names. You know that in organizing the army for marching and fighting, I have not made mention of other forces, but have only shown that in doubling the forces, nothing else had to be done but to double the orders (arrangements).

Since at present I want to show you the manner of encamping, it appears proper to me not to stay only with two Battalions, but to assemble a fair army, and composed like the Roman of two Battalions and as many auxiliary forces. I know that the form of an encampment is more perfect, when a complete army is quartered: which matter did not appear necessary to me in the previous demonstration. If I want, therefore, to quarter a fair (sized) army of twenty four thousand infantry and two thousand cavalry effectives, being divided into four companies, two of your own forces and two of foreigners, I would employ this method. When I had found the site where I should want to encamp, I would raise the Captain’s flag, and around it I would draw a square which would have each face distant from it fifty arm lengths, of which each should look out on one of the four regions of the sky, that is, east, west, south and north, in which space I would put the quarters of the Captain. And as I believe it prudent, and because thus the Romans did in good part, I would divide the armed men from the unarmed, and separate the men who carry burdens from the unburdened ones. I would quarter all or a greater part of the armed men on the east side, and the unarmed and burdened ones on the west side, making the east the front and the west the rear of the encampment, and the south and north would be the flanks. And to distinguish the quarters of the armed men, I would employ this method. I would run a line from the Captain’s flag, and would lead it easterly for a distance of six hundred eighty (680) arm lengths. I would also run two other lines which I would place in the middle of it, and be of the same length as the former, but distant from each of them by fifteen arm lengths, at the extremity of which, I would want the east gate to be (placed): and the space which exists between the two extreme (end) lines, I would make a road that would go from the gate to the quarters of the Captain, which would be thirty arm lengths in width and six hundred thirty (630) long ((since the Captain’s quarters would occupy fifty arm lengths)) and call this the Captain’s Way. I would then make another road from the south gate up to the north gate, and cross by the head of the Captain’s Way, and along the east side of the Captain’s quarters which would be one thousand two hundred fifty (1250) arm lengths long ((since it would occupy the entire width of the encampment)) and also be thirty arm lengths wide and be called the Cross Way. The quarters of the Captain and these two roads having been designed, therefore the quarters of the two battalions of your own men should begin to be designed; and I would quarter one on the right hand (side) of the Captain’s Way, and one on the left. And hence beyond the space which is occupied by the width of the Cross Way, I would place thirty two quarters on the left side of the Captain’s Way, and thirty two on the right side, leaving a space of thirty arm lengths between the sixteenth and seventeenth quarters which should serve as a transverse road which should cross through all of the quarters of the battalions, as will be seen in their partitioning. Of these two arrangements of quarters, in the first tents that would be adjacent to the Cross Way, I would quarter the heads of men-at-arms, and since each company has one hundred and fifty men-at-arms, there would be assigned ten men-at-arms to each of the quarters. The area (space) of the quarters of the Heads should be forty arm lengths wide and ten arm lengths long. And it is to be noted that whenever I say width, I mean from south to north, and when I say length, that from west to east. Those of the men-at-arms should be fifteen arm lengths long and thirty wide. In the next fifteen quarters which in all cases are next ((which should have their beginning across the transverse road, and which would have the same space as those of the men-at-arms)) I would quarter the light cavalry, which, since they are one hundred fifty, ten cavalrymen would be assigned to each quarter, and in the sixteenth which would be left, I would quarter their Head, giving him the same space which is given to the Head of men-at-arms. And thus the quarters of the cavalry of the two battalions would come to place the Captain’s Way in the center and give a rule for the quarters of the infantry, as I will narrate. You have noted that I have quartered the three hundred cavalry of each battalion with their heads in thirty two quarters situated on the Captain’s Way, and beginning with the Cross Way, and that from the sixteenth to the seventeenth there is a space of thirty arm lengths to make a transverse road. If I want, therefore, to quarter the twenty companies which constitute the two regular Battalions, I would place the quarters of every two companies behind the quarters of the cavalry, each of which should be fifteen arm lengths long and thirty wide, as those of the cavalry, and should be joined on the rear where they touch one another. And in every first quarter of each band that fronts on the Cross Way, I would quarter the Constable of one company, which would come to correspond with the quartering of the Head of the men-at-arms: and their quarters alone would have a space twenty arm lengths in width and ten in length. And in the other fifteen quarters in each group which follow after this up the Transverse Way, I would quarter a company of infantry on each side, which, as they are four hundred fifty, thirty would be assigned to each quarter. I would place the other fifteen quarters contiguous in each group to those of the cavalry with the same space, in which I would quarter a company of infantry from each group. In the last quarter of each group I would place the Constable of the company, who would come to be adjacent to the Head of the light cavalry, with a space of ten arm lengths long and twenty wide. And thus these first two rows of quarters would be half of cavalry and half of infantry.

And as I want ((as I told you in its place)) these cavalry to be all effective, and hence without retainers who help taking care of the horses or other necessary things, I would want these infantry quartered behind the cavalry should be obligated to help the owners (of the horses) in providing and taking care of them, and because of this should be exempt from other activities of the camp, which was the manner observed by the Romans. I would also leave behind these quarters on all sides a space of thirty arm lengths to make a road, and I would call one of the First Road on the right hand (side) and the other the First Road on the left, and in each area I would place another row of thirty two double quarters which should face one another on the rear, with the same spaces as those which I have mentioned, and also divided at the sixteenth in the same manner to create a Transverse Road, in which I would quarter in each area four companies of infantry with the Constables in the front at the head and foot (of each row). I would also leave on each side another space of thirty arm lengths to create a road which should be called the Second Road on the right hand (side) and on the other side the Second Road to the left; I would place another row in each area of thirty two double quarters, with the same distances and divisions, in which I would quarter on every side four companies (of infantry) with their Constables. And thus there would come to be quartered in three rows of quarters per area the cavalry and the companies (of infantry) of the two regular battalions, in the center of which I would place the Captain’s Way. The two battalions of auxiliaries ((since I had them composed of the same men)) I would quarter on each side of these two regular battalions with the same arrangement of double quarters, placing first a row of quarters in which I should quarter half with cavalry and half infantry, distant thirty arm lengths from each other, to create two roads which I should call, one the Third Road on the right hand (side), the other the Third on the left hand. And then I would place on each side two other rows of quarters, separate but arranged in the same way, which are those of the regular battalions, which would create two other roads, and all of these would be called by the number and the band (side) where they should be situated. So that all this part of the Army would come to be quartered in twelve rows of double quarters, and on thirteen roads, counting the Captain’s Way and the Cross Way.

I would want a space of one hundred arm lengths all around left between the quarters and the ditch (moat). And if you count all those spaces, you will see, that from the middle of the quarters of the Captain to the east gate, there are seven hundred arm lengths. There remains to us now two spaces, of which one is from the quarters of the Captain to the south gate, the other from there to the north gate, each of which comes to be, measuring from the center point, six hundred thirty five (635) arm lengths. I then subtract from each of these spaces fifty arm lengths which the quarters of the Captain occupies, and forty five arm lengths of plaza which I want to give to each side, and thirty arm lengths of road, which divides each of the mentioned spaces in the middle, and a hundred arm lengths which are left on each side between the quarters and the ditch, and there remains in each area a space left for quarters four hundred arm lengths wide and a hundred long, measuring the length to include the space occupied by the Captain’s quarters. Dividing the said length in the middle, therefore, there would be on each side of the Captain forty quarters fifty arm lengths long and twenty wide, which would total eighty quarters, in which would be quartered the general Heads of the battalions, the Chamberlains, the Masters of the camps, and all those who should have an office (duty) in the army, leaving some vacant for some foreigners who might arrive, and for those who should fight through the courtesy of the Captain. On the rear side of the Captain’s quarters, I would create a road thirty arm lengths wide from north to south, and call it the Front Road, which would come to be located along the eighty quarters mentioned, since this road and the Cross Way would have between them the Captain’s quarters and the eighty quarters on their flanks. From this Front road and opposite to the Captain’s quarters, I would create another road which should go from there to the west gate, also thirty arm lengths wide, and corresponding in location and length to the Captain’s Way, and I should call it the Way of the Plaza. These two roads being located, I would arrange the plaza where the market should be made, which I would place at the head of the Way of the Plaza, opposite to the Captain’s quarters, and next to the Front Road, and would want it to be square, and would allow it a hundred twenty one arm lengths per side. And from the right hand and left hand of the said plaza, I would make two rows of quarters, and each row have eight double quarters, which would take up twelve arm lengths in length and thirty in width so that they should be on each side of the plaza, in which there would be sixteen quarters, and total thirty two all together, in which I would quarter that cavalry left over from the auxiliary battalions, and if this should not be enough, I would assign them some of the quarters about the Captain, and especially those which face the ditch.

It remains for us now to quarter the extraordinary pikemen and Veliti, which every battalion has; which you know, according to our arrangement, in addition to the ten companies (of infantry), each has a thousand extraordinary pikemen, and five hundred Veliti; so that each of the two regular battalions have two thousand extraordinary pikemen, and a thousand extraordinary pikemen, and five hundred Veliti; so that each of the two regular battalions have two thousand extraordinary pikemen, and a thousand extraordinary Veliti, and the auxiliary as many as they; so that one also comes to have to quarter six thousand infantry, all of whom I would quarter on the west side along the ditches. From the point, therefore, of the Front Road, and northward, leaving the space of a hundred arm lengths from those (quarters) to the ditch, I would place a row of five double quarters which would be seventy five arm lengths long and sixty in width: so that with the width divided, each quarters would be allowed fifteen arm lengths for length and thirty for width. And as there would be ten quarters, I would quarter three hundred infantry, assigning thirty infantry to each quarters. Leaving then a space of thirty one arm lengths, I would place another row of five double quarters in a similar manner and with similar spaces, and then another, so that there would be five rows of five double quarters, which would come to be fifty quarters placed in a straight line on the north side, each distant one hundred arm lengths from the ditches, which would quarter one thousand five hundred infantry. Turning then on the left hand side toward the west gate, I would want in all that tract between them and the said gate, five other rows of double quarters, in a similar manner and with the same spaces, ((it is true that from one row to the other there would not be more than fifteen arm lengths of space)) in which there would also be quartered a thousand five hundred infantry: and thus from the north gate to that on the west, following the ditches, in a hundred quarters, divided into ten rows of five double quarters per row, the extraordinary pikemen and Veliti of the regular battalions would be quartered. And so, too, from the west gate to that on the south, following the ditches, in exactly the same manner, in another ten rows of ten quarters per row, the extraordinary pikemen and Veliti of the auxiliary battalions would be quartered. Their Heads, or rather their Constables, could take those quarters on the side toward the ditches which appeared most convenient for themselves.

I would dispose the artillery all along the embankments of the ditches: and in all the other space remaining toward the west, I would quarter all the unarmed men and all the baggage (impedimenta) of the Camp. And it has to be understood that under this name of impedimenta ((as you know)) the ancients intended all those carriages (wagons) and all those things which are necessary to an Army, except the soldiers; as are carpenters (wood workers), smiths, blacksmiths, shoe makers, engineers, and bombardiers, and others which should be placed among the number of the armed: herdsmen with their herds of castrated sheep and oxen, which are used for feeding the Army: and in addition, masters of every art (trade), together with public wagons for the public provisions of food and arms. And I would not particularly distinguish their quarters: I would only designate the roads that should not be occupied by them. Then the other spaces remaining between the roads, which would be four, I would assign in general to all the impedimenta mentioned, that is, one to the herdsmen, another to Artificers and workmen, another to the public wagons for provisions, and the fourth to the armorers. The roads which I would want left unoccupied would be the Way of the Plaza, the Front Road, and in addition, a road that should be called the Center Road, which should take off at the north and proceed toward the south, and pass through the center of the Way of the Plaza, which, on the west side, should have the same effect as has the Transverse Road on the east side. And in addition to this a Road that should go around the rear along the quarters of the extraordinary pikemen and Veliti. And all these roads should be thirty arm lengths wide. And I would dispose the artillery along the ditches on the rear of the camp.

BATTISTA

I confess I do not understand, and I also do not believe that to say so makes me ashamed, as this is not my profession. None the less, I like this organization very much: I would want only that you should resolve these doubts for me. The one, why you make the roads and the spaces around the quarters so wide. The other, which annoys me more, is this, how are these spaces that you designate for quarters to be used.

FABRIZIO

You know that I made all the roads thirty arm lengths wide, so that a company of infantry is able to go through them in order (formation): which, if you remember well, I told you that each of these (formations) were twenty five to thirty arm lengths wide. The space between the ditch and the quarters, which is a hundred arm lengths wide, is necessary, since the companies and the artillery can be handled here, through which booty is taken, (and) when space is needed into which to retire, new ditches and embankments are made. The quarters very distant from the ditches are better, for they are more distant from the fires and other things that might be able to draw the enemy to attack them. As to the second question, my intention is not that every space designated by me is covered by only one pavilion, but is to be used as an all-round convenience for those who are quartered, with several or few tents, so long as they do not go outside its limits. And in designing these quarters, the men must be most experienced and excellent architects, who, as soon as the Captain has selected the site, know how to give it form, and divide it, and distinguishing the roads, dividing the quarters with cords and hatchets in such a practical manner, that they might be divided and arranged quickly. And if confusion is not to arise, the camp must always face the same way, so that everyone will know on which Road and in which space he has to find his quarters. And this ought to be observed at all times, in every place, and in a manner that it appears to be a movable City, which, wherever it goes, brings with it the same roads, the same houses, and the same appearance: which cannot be observed by those men who, seeking strong locations, have to change the form according to the variations in the sites. But the Romans made the places strong with ditches, ramparts, and embankments, for they placed a space around the camp, and in front of it they dug a ditch and ordinarily six arm lengths wide and three deep, which spaces they increased according to the (length of) time they resided in the one place, and according as they feared the enemy. For myself, I would not at present erect a stockade (rampart), unless I should want to winter in a place. I would, however, dig the ditch and embankment, not less than that mentioned, but greater according to the necessity. With respect to the artillery, on every side of the encampment, I would have a half circle ditch, from which the artillery should be able to batter on the flanks whoever should come to attack the moats (ditches). The soldiers ought also to be trained in this practice of knowing how to arrange an encampment, and work with them so they may aid him in designing it, and the soldiers quick in knowing their places. And none of these is difficult, as will be told in its proper place. For now I want to pass on to the protection of the camp, which, without the distribution (assignment) of guards, all the other efforts would be useless.

BATTISTA

Before you pass on to the guards, I would want you to tell me, what methods are employed when others want to place the camp near the enemy, for I do not know whether there is time to be able to organize it without danger.

FABRIZIO

You have to know this, that no Captain encamps near the enemy, unless he is disposed to come to an engagement whenever the enemy wants; and if the others are so disposed, there is no danger except the ordinary, since two parts of the army are organized to make an engagement, while the other part makes the encampment. In cases like this, the Romans assigned this method of fortifying the quarters to the Triari, while the Principi and the Astati remained under arms. They did this, because the Triari, being the last to combat, were in time to leave the work if the enemy came, and take up their arms and take their places. If you want to imitate the Romans, you have to assign the making of the encampment to that company which you would want to put in the place of the Triari in the last part of the army.

But let us return to the discussion of the guards. I do not seem to find in connection with the ancients guarding the camp at night, that they had guards outside, distant from the ditches, as is the custom today, which they call the watch. I believe I should do this, when I think how the army could be easily deceived, because of the difficulty which exists in checking (reviewing) them, for they may be corrupted or attacked by the enemy, so that they judged it dangerous to trust them entirely or in part. And therefore all the power of their protection was within the ditches, which they dug with very great diligence and order, punishing capitally anyone who deviated from such an order. How this was arranged by them, I will not talk to you further in order not to tire you, since you are able to see it by yourselves, if you have not seen it up to now. I will say only briefly what would be done by me. I would regularly have a third of the army remain armed every night, and a fourth of them always on foot, who would be distributed throughout the embankments and all the places of the army, with double guards posted at each of its squares, where a part should remain, and a part continually go from one side of the encampment to the other. And this arrangement I describe, I would also observe by day if I had the enemy near. As to giving it a name, and renewing it every night, and doing the other things that are done in such guarding, since they are things (already) known, I will not talk further of them. I would only remind you of a most important matter, and by observing it do much good, by not observing it do much evil; which is, that great diligence be used as to who does not lodge within the camp at night, and who arrives there anew. And this is an easy matter, to review who is quartered there, with those arrangements we have designated, since every quarter having a predetermined number of men, it is an easy thing to see if there are any men missing or if any are left over; and when they are missing without permission, to punish them as fugitives, and if they are left over, to learn who they are, what they know, and what are their conditions. Such diligence results in the enemy not being able to have correspondence with your Heads, and not to have co-knowledge of your counsels. If this had not been observed with diligence by the Romans, Claudius Nero could not, when he had Hannibal near to him, have departed from the encampment he had in Lucania, and go and return from the Marches, without Hannibal having been aware of it. But it is not enough to make these good arrangements, unless they are made to be observed by great security, for there is nothing that wants so much observance as any required in the army. Therefore, the laws for their enforcement should be harsh and hard, and the executor very hard. The Roman punished with the capital penalty whoever was missing from the guard, whoever abandoned the place given him in combat, whoever brought anything concealed from outside the encampment; if anyone should tell of having performed some great act in battle, and should not have done it; if anyone should have fought except at the command of the Captain, if anyone from fear had thrown aside his arms. And if it occurred that an entire Cohort or an entire Legion had made a similar error, in order that they not all be put to death, they put their names in a purse, and drew the tenth part, and those they put to death. Which penalty was so carried out, that if everyone did not hear of it, they at least feared it. And because where there are severe punishments, there also ought to be rewards, so that men should fear and hope at the same time, they proposed rewards for every great deed; such as to him who, during the fighting, saved the life of one of its citizens, to whoever first climbed the walls of enemy towns, to whoever first entered the encampment of the enemy, to whoever in battle wounded or killed an enemy, to whoever had thrown him from his horse. And thus any act of virtu was recognized and rewarded by the Consuls, and publicly praised by everyone: and those who received gifts for any of these things, in addition to the glory and fame they acquired among the soldiers, when they returned to their country, exhibited them with solemn pomp and with great demonstrations among their friends and relatives. It is not to marvel therefore, if that people acquired so much empire, when they had so great an observance of punishment and reward toward them, which operated either for their good or evil, should merit either praise or censure; it behooves us to observe the greater part of these things. And it does not appear proper for me to be silent on a method of punishment observed by them, which was, that as the miscreant was convicted before the Tribune or the Consul, he was struck lightly by him with a rod: after which striking of the criminal, he was allowed to flee, and all the soldiers allowed to kill him, so that immediately each of them threw stones or darts, or hit him with other arms, of a kind from which he went little alive, and rarely returned to camp; and to such that did return to camp, he was not allowed to return home except with so much inconvenience and ignominy, that it was much better for him to die. You see this method almost observed by the Swiss, who have the condemned publicly put to death by the other soldiers. Which is well considered and done for the best, for if it is desired that one be not a defender of a criminal, the better remedy that is found, is to make him the punisher of him (the criminal); for in some respects he favors him while from other desires he longs for his punishment, if he himself is the executioner, than if the execution is carried out by another. If you want, therefore, that one is not to be favored in his mistakes by a people, a good remedy is to see to it that the public judged him. In support of this, the example of Manlius Capitol that can be cited, who, when he was accused by the Senate, was defended so much by the public up to the point where it no longer became the judge: but having become arbiter of his cause, condemned him to death. It is, therefore, a method of punishing this, of doing away with tumults, and of having justice observed. And since in restraining armed men, the fear of laws, or of men, is not enough, the ancients added the authority of God: and, therefore, with very great ceremony, they made their soldiers swear to observe the military discipline, so that if they did the contrary, they not only had to fear the laws and men, but God; and they used every industry to fill them with Religion.

BATTISTA

Did the Romans permit women to be in their armies, or that they indulge in indolent games that are used to day?

FABRIZIO

They prohibited both of them, and this prohibition was not very difficult, because the exercises which they gave each day to the soldiers were so many, sometimes being occupied all together, sometimes individually, that no time was left to them to think either of Venery, or of games, or of other things which make soldiers seditious and useless.

BATTISTA

I like that. But tell me, when the army had to take off, what arrangements did they have?

FABRIZIO

The captain’s trumpet was sounded three times: at the first sound the tents were taken down and piled into heaps, at the second they loaded the burdens, and at the third they moved in the manner mentioned above, with the impedimenta behind, the armed men on every side, placing the Legions in the center. And, therefore, you would have to have a battalion of auxiliaries move, and behind it its particular impedimenta, and with those the fourth part of the public impedimenta, which would be all those who should be quartered in one of those (sections of the camp) which we showed a short while back. And, therefore, it would be well to have each one of them assigned to a battalion, so that when the army moved, everyone would know where his place was in marching. And every battalion ought to proceed on its way in this fashion with its own impedimenta, and with a quarter of the public (impedimenta) at its rear, as we showed the Roman army marched.

BATTISTA

In placing the encampment, did they have other considerations than those you mentioned?

FABRIZIO

I tell you again, that in their encampments, the Romans wanted to be able to employ the usual form of their method, in the observance of which, they took no other consideration. But as to other considerations, they had two principal ones: the one, to locate themselves in a healthy place: to locate themselves where the enemy should be unable to besiege them, and cut off their supply of water and provisions. To avoid this weakness, therefore, they avoided marshy places, or exposure to noxious winds. They recognized these, not so much from the characteristics of the site, but from the looks of the inhabitants: and if they saw them with poor color, or short winded, or full of other infections, they did not encamp there. As to the other part of not being besieged, the nature of the place must be considered, where the friends are, and where the enemy, and from these make a conjecture whether or not you can be besieged. And, therefore, the Captain must be very expert concerning sites of the countries, and have around him many others who have the same expertness. They also avoided sickness and hunger so as not to disorganize the army; for if you want to keep it healthy, you must see to it that the soldiers sleep under tents, that they are quartered, where there are trees to create shade, where there is wood to cook the food, and not to march in the heat. You need, therefore, to consider the encampment the day before you arrive there, and in winter guard against marching in the snow and through ice without the convenience of making a fire, and not lack necessary clothing, and not to drink bad water. Those who get sick in the house, have them taken care of by doctors; for a captain has no remedy when he has to fight both sickness and the enemy. But nothing is more useful in maintaining an army healthy than exercise: and therefore the ancients made them exercise every day. Whence it is seen how much exercise is of value, for in the quarters it keeps you healthy, and in battle it makes you victorious. As to hunger, not only is it necessary to see that the enemy does not impede your provisions, but to provide whence you are to obtain them, and to see that those you have are not lost. And, therefore, you must always have provisions (on hand) for the army for a month, and beyond that to tax the neighboring friends that they provide you daily, keep the provisions in a strong place, and, above all, dispense it with diligence, giving each one a reasonable measure each day, and so observe this part that they do not become disorganized; for every other thing in war can be overcome with time, this only with time overcomes you. Never make anyone your enemy, who, while seeking to overcome you with the sword (iron), can overcome you by hunger, because if such a victory is not as honorable, it is more secure and more certain. That army, therefore, cannot escape hunger which does not observe justice, and licentiously consume whatever it please, for one evil causes the provisions not to arrive, and the other that when they arrive, they are uselessly consumed: therefore the ancients arranged that what was given was eaten, and in the time they assigned, so that no soldier ate except when the Captain did. Which, as to being observed by the modern armies, everyone does (the contrary), and deservedly they cannot be called orderly and sober as the ancients, but licentious and drunkards.

BATTISTA

You have said in the beginning of arranging the encampment, that you did not want to stay only with two battalions, but took up four, to show how a fair (sized) army was quartered. Therefore I would want you to tell me two things: the one, if I have more or less men, how should I quarter them: the other, what number of soldiers would be enough to fight against any enemy?

FABRIZIO

To the first question, I reply, that if the army has four or six thousand soldiers more or less, rows of quarters are taken away or added as are needed, and in this way it is possible to accommodate more or fewer infinitely. None the less, when the Romans joined together two consular armies, they made two encampments and had the parts of the disarmed men face each other. As to the second question, I reply, that the regular Roman army had about twenty four thousand soldiers: but when a great force pressed them, the most they assembled were fifty thousand. With this number they opposed two hundred thousand Gauls whom they assaulted after the first war which they had with the Carthaginians. With the same number, they opposed Hannibal. And you have to note that the Romans and Greeks had made war with few (soldiers), strengthened by order and by art; the westerners and easterners had made it with a multitude: but one of these nations serves itself of natural fury, as are the westerners; the other of the great obedience which its men show to their King. But in Greece and Italy, as there is not this natural fury, nor the natural reverence toward their King, it has been necessary to turn to discipline; which is so powerful, that it made the few able to overcome the fury and natural obstinacy of the many. I tell you, therefore, if you want to imitate the Romans and Greeks, the number of fifty thousand soldiers ought not to be exceeded, rather they should actually be less; for the many cause confusion, and do not allow discipline to be observed nor the orders learned. And Pyrrhus used to say that with fifteen thousand men he would assail the world.

But let us pass on to another part. We have made our army win an engagement, and I showed the troubles that can occur in battle; we have made it march, and I have narrated with what impedimenta it can be surrounded while marching: and lastly we have quartered it: where not only a little repose from past hardship ought to be taken, but also to think about how the war ought to be concluded; for in the quarters, many things are discussed, especially if there remain enemies in the field, towns under suspicion, of which it is well to reassure oneself, and to capture those which are hostile. It is necessary, therefore, to come to these demonstrations, and to pass over this difficulty with that (same) glory with which we have fought up to the present. Coming down to particulars, therefore, that if it should happen to you that many men or many peoples should do something, which might be useful to you and very harmful to them, as would be the destruction of the walls of their City, or the sending of many of themselves into exile, it is necessary that you either deceive them in a way that everyone should believe he is affected, so that one not helping the other, all find themselves oppressed without a remedy, or rather, to command everyone what they ought to do on the same day, so that each one believing himself to be alone to whom the command is given, thinks of obeying it, and not of a remedy; and thus, without tumult, your command is executed by everyone. If you should have suspicion of the loyalty of any people, and should want to assure yourself and occupy them without notice, in order to disguise your design more easily, you cannot do better than to communicate to him some of your design, requesting his aid, and indicate to him you want to undertake another enterprise, and to have a mind alien to every thought of his: which will cause him not to think of his defense, as he does not believe you are thinking of attacking him, and he will give you the opportunity which will enable you to satisfy your desire easily. If you should have present in your army someone who keeps the enemy advised of your designs, you cannot do better if you want to avail yourself of his evil intentions, than to communicate to him those things you do not want to do, and keep silent those things you want to do, and tell him you are apprehensive of the things of which you are not apprehensive, and conceal those things of which you are apprehensive: which will cause the enemy to undertake some enterprise, in the belief that he knows your designs, in which you can deceive him and defeat him. If you should design ((as did Claudius Nero)) to decrease your army, sending aid to some friend, and they should not be aware of it, it is necessary that the encampment be not decreased, but to maintain entire all the signs and arrangements, making the same fires and posting the same guards as for the entire army. Likewise, if you should attach a new force to your army, and do not want the enemy to know you have enlarged it, it is necessary that the encampment be not increased, for it is always most useful to keep your designs secret. Whence Metellus, when he was with the armies in Spain, to one who asked him what he was going to do the next day, answered that if his shirt knew it, he would bum it. Marcus Crassus, to one who asked him when he was going to move his army, said: “do you believe you are alone in not hearing the trumpets?” If you should desire to learn the secrets of your enemy and know his arrangement, some used to send ambassadors, and with them men expert in war disguised in the clothing of the family, who, taking the opportunity to observe the enemy army, and consideration of his strengths and weaknesses, have given them the occasion to defeat him. Some have sent a close friend of theirs into exile, and through him have learned the designs of their adversary. You may also learn similar secrets from the enemy if you should take prisoners for this purpose. Marius, in the war he waged against Cimbri, in order to learn the loyalty of those Gauls who lived in Lombardy and were leagued with the Roman people, sent them letters, open and sealed: and in the open ones he wrote them that they should not open the sealed ones except at such a time: and before that time, he called for them to be returned, and finding them opened, knew their loyalty was not complete. Some Captains, when they were assaulted have not wanted to go to meet the enemy, but have gone to assail his country, and constrain him to return to defend his home. This often has turned out well, because your soldiers begin to win and fill themselves with booty and confidence, while those of the enemy become dismayed, it appearing to them that from being winners, they have become losers. So that to whoever has made this diversion, it has turned out well. But this can only be done by that man who has his country stronger than that of the enemy, for if it were otherwise, he would go on to lose. It has often been a useful thing for a Captain who finds himself besieged in the quarters of the enemy, to set in motion proceedings for an accord, and to make a truce with him for several days; which only any enemy negligent in every way will do, so that availing yourself of his negligence, you can easily obtain the opportunity to get out of his hands. Sulla twice freed himself from his enemies in this manner, and with this same deceit, Hannibal in Spain got away from the forces of Claudius Nero, who had besieged him.

It also helps one in freeing himself from the enemy to do something in addition to those mentioned, which keeps him at bay. This is done in two ways: either by assaulting him with part of your forces, so that intent on the battle, he gives the rest of your forces the opportunity to be able to save themselves, or to have some new incident spring up, which, by the novelty of the thing, makes him wonder, and for this reason to become apprehensive and stand still, as you know Hannibal did, who, being trapped by Fabius Maximus, at night placed some torches between the horns of many oxen, so that Fabius is suspense over this novelty, did not think further of impeding his passage. A Captain ought, among all the other actions of his, endeavor with every art to divide the forces of the enemy, either by making him suspicious of his men in whom he trusted, or by giving him cause that he has to separate his forces, and, because of this, become weaker. The first method is accomplished by watching the things of some of those whom he has next to him, as exists in war, to save his possessions, maintaining his children or other of his necessities without charge. You know how Hannibal, having burned all the fields around Rome, caused only those of Fabius Maximus to remain safe. You know how Coriolanus, when he came with the army to Rome, saved the possessions of the Nobles, and burned and sacked those of the Plebs. When Metellus led the army against Jugurtha, all me ambassadors, sent to him by Jugurtha, were requested by him to give up Jugurtha as a prisoner; afterwards, writing letters to these same people on the same subject, wrote in such a way that in a little while Jugurtha became suspicious of all his counsellors, and in different ways, dismissed them. Hannibal, having taken refuge with Antiochus, the Roman ambassadors frequented him so much at home, that Antiochus becoming suspicious of him, did not afterwards have any faith in his counsels. As to dividing the enemy forces, there is no more certain way than to have one country assaulted by part of them (your forces), so that being constrained to go to defend it, they (of that country) abandon the war. This is the method employed by Fabius when his Army had encountered the forces of the Gauls, the Tuscans, Umbrians, and Samnites. Titus Didius, having a small force in comparison with those of the enemy, and awaiting a Legion from Rome, the enemy wanted to go out to meet it; so that in order that it should not do so, he gave out by voice throughout his army that he wanted to undertake an engagement with the enemy on the next day; then he took steps that some of the prisoners he had were given the opportunity to escape, who carried back the order of the Consul to fight on the next day, (and) caused the enemy, in order not to diminish his forces, not to go out to meet that Legion: and in this way, kept himself safe. Which method did not serve to divide the forces of the enemy, but to double his own. Some, in order to divide his (the enemy) forces, have employed allowing him to enter their country, and (in proof) allowed him to take many towns so that by placing guards in them, he diminished his forces, and in this manner having made him weak, assaulted and defeated him. Some others, when they wanted to go into one province, feigned making an assault on another, and used so much industry, that as soon as they extended toward that one where there was no fear they would enter, have overcome it before the enemy had time to succor it. For the enemy, as he is not certain whether you are to return back to the place first threatened by you, is constrained not to abandon the one place and succor the other, and thus often he does not defend either. In addition to the matters mentioned, it is important to a Captain when sedition or discord arises among the soldiers, to know how to extinguish it with art. The better way is to castigate the heads of this folly (error); but to do it in a way that you are able to punish them before they are able to become aware of it. The method is, if they are far from you, not to call only the guilty ones, but all the others together with them, so that as they do not believe there is any cause to punish them, they are not disobedient, but provide the opportunity for punishment. When they are present, one ought to strengthen himself with the guiltless, and by their aid, punish them. If there should be discord among them, the best way is to expose them to danger, which fear will always make them united. But, above all, what keeps the Army united, is the reputation of its Captain, which only results from his virtu, for neither blood (birth) or authority attain it without virtu. And the first thing a Captain is expected to do, is to see to it that the soldiers are paid and punished; for any time payment is missed, punishment must also be dispensed with, because you cannot castigate a soldier you rob, unless you pay him; and as he wants to live, he can abstain from being robbed. But if you pay him but do not punish him, he becomes insolent in every way, because you become of little esteem, and to whomever it happens, he cannot maintain the dignity of his position; and if he does not maintain it, of necessity, tumults and discords follow, which are the ruin of an Army. The Ancient Captains had a molestation from which the present ones are almost free, which was the interpretation of sinister omen to their undertakings; for if an arrow fell in an army, if the Sun or the Moon was obscured, if an earthquake occurred, if the Captain fell while either mounting or dismounting from his horse, it was interpreted in a sinister fashion by the soldiers, and instilled so much fear in them, that when they came to an engagement, they were easily defeated. And, therefore, as soon as such an incident occurred, the ancient Captains either demonstrated the cause of it or reduced it to its natural causes, or interpreted it to (favor) their own purposes. When Caesar went to Africa, and having fallen while he was putting out to sea, said, “Africa, I have taken you”: and many have profited from an eclipse of the Moon and from earthquakes: these things cannot happen in our time, as much because our men are not as superstitious, as because our Religion, by itself, entirely takes away such ideas. Yet if it should occur, the orders of the ancients should be imitated. When, either from hunger, or other natural necessity, or human passion, your enemy is brought to extreme desperation, and, driven by it, comes to fight with you, you ought to remain within your quarters, and avoid battle as much as you can. Thus the Lacedemonians did against the Messinians: thus Caesar did against Afranius and Petreius. When Fulvius was Consul against the Cimbri, he had the cavalry assault the enemy continually for many days, and considered how they would issue forth from their quarters in order to pursue them; whence he placed an ambush behind the quarters of the Cimbri, and had them assaulted by the cavalry, and when the Cimbri came out of their quarters to pursue them, Fulvius seized them and plundered them. It has been very effective for a Captain, when his army is in the vicinity of the enemy army, to send his forces with the insignia of the enemy, to rob and burn his own country: whence the enemy, believing they were forces coming to their aid, also ran out to help them plunder, and, because of this, have become disorganized and given the adversary the faculty of overcoming them. Alexander of Epirus used these means fighting against the Illirici, and Leptenus the Syracusan against the Carthaginians, and the design succeeded happily for both. Many have overcome the enemy by giving him the faculty of eating and drinking beyond his means, feigning being afraid, and leaving his quarters full of wine and herds, and when the enemy had filled himself beyond every natural limit, they assaulted him and overcome him with injury to him. Thus Tamirus did against Cyrus, and Tiberius Gracchus against the Spaniards. Some have poisoned the wine and other things to eat in order to be able to overcome them more easily. A little while ago, I said I did not find the ancients had kept a night Watch outside, and I thought they did it to avoid the evils that could happen, for it has been found that sometimes, the sentries posted in the daytime to keep watch for the enemy, have been the ruin of him who posted them; for it has happened often that when they had been taken, and by force had been made to give the signal by which they called their own men, who, coming at the signal, have been either killed or taken. Sometimes it helps to deceive the enemy by changing one of your habits, relying on which, he is ruined: as a Captain had already done, who, when he wanted to have a signal made to his men indicating the coming of the enemy, at night with fire and in the daytime with smoke, commanded that both smoke and flame be made without any intermission; so that when the enemy came, he should remain in the belief that he came without being seen, as he did not see the signals (usually) made to indicate his discovery, made ((because of his going disorganized)) the victory of his adversary easier. Menno Rodius, when he wanted to draw the enemy from the strong places, sent one in the disguise of a fugitive, who affirmed that his army was full of discord, and that the greater part were deserting, and to give proof of the matter, had certain tumults started among the quarters: whence to the enemy, thinking he was able to break him, assaulted him and was routed.

In addition to the things mentioned, one ought to take care not to bring the enemy to extreme desperation; which Caesar did when he fought the Germans, who, having blocked the way to them, seeing that they were unable to flee, and necessity having made them brave, desired rather to undergo the hardship of pursuing them if they defended themselves. Lucullus, when he saw that some Macedonian cavalry who were with him, had gone over to the side of the enemy, quickly sounded the call to battle, and commanded the other forces to pursue it: whence the enemy, believing that Lucullus did not want to start the battle, went to attack the Macedonians with such fury, that they were constrained to defend themselves, and thus, against their will, they became fighters of the fugitives. Knowing how to make yourself secure of a town when you have doubts of its loyalty once you have conquered it, or before, is also important; which some examples of the ancients teach you. Pompey, when he had doubts of the Catanians, begged them to accept some infirm people he had in his army, and having sent some very robust men in the disguise of infirm ones, occupied the town. Publius Valerius, fearful of the loyalty of the Epidaurians, announced an amnesty to be held, as we will tell you, at a Church outside the town, and when all the public had gone there for the amnesty, he locked the doors, and then let no one out from inside except those whom he trusted. Alexander the Great, when he wanted to go into Asia and secure Thrace for himself, took with him all the chiefs of this province, giving them provisions, and placed lowborn men in charge of the common people of Thrace; and thus he kept the chiefs content by paying them, and the common people quiet by not having Heads who should disquiet them. But among all the things by which Captains gain the people over to themselves, are the examples of chastity and justice, as was that of Scipio in Spain when he returned that girl, beautiful in body, to her husband and father, which did more than arms in gaining over Spain. Caesar, when he paid for the lumber that he used to make the stockades around his army in Gaul, gained such a name for himself of being just, that he facilitated the acquisition of that province for himself. I do not know what else remains for me to talk about regarding such events, and there does not remain any part of this matter that has not been discussed by us. The only thing lacking is to tell of the methods of capturing and defending towns, which I am about to do willingly, if it is not painful for you now.

BATTISTA

Your humaneness is so great, that it makes us pursue our desires without being afraid of being held presumptuous, since you have offered it willingly, that we would be ashamed to ask you. Therefore we say only this to you, that you cannot do a greater or more thankful benefit to us than to furnish us this discussion. But before you pass on to that other matter, resolve a doubt for us: whether it is better to continue the war even in winter, as is done today, or wage it only in the summer, and go into quarters in the winter, as the ancients did.

FABRIZIO

Here, if there had not been the prudence of the questioner, some part that merits consideration would have been omitted. I tell you again that the ancients did everything better and with more prudence than we; and if some error is made in other things, all are made in matters of war. There is nothing more imprudent or more perilous to a Captain than to wage war in winter, and more dangerous to him who brings it, than to him who awaits it. The reason is this: all the industry used in military discipline, is used in order to be organized to undertake an engagement with your enemy, as this is the end toward which a Captain must aim, for the engagement makes you win or lose a war. Therefore, whoever know how to organize it better, and who has his army better disciplined, has the greater advantage in this, and can hope more to win it. On the other hand, there is nothing more inimical to organization than the rough sites, or cold and wet seasons; for the rough side does not allow you to use the plentitude (of your forces) according to discipline, and the cold and wet seasons do not allow you to keep your forces together, and you cannot have them face the enemy united, but of necessity, you must quarter them separately, and without order, having to take into account the castles, hamlets, and farm houses that receive you; so that all the hard work employed by you in disciplining your army is in vain. And do not marvel if they war in winter time today, for as the armies are without discipline, and do not know the harm that is done to them by not being quartered together, for their annoyance does not enable those arrangements to be made and to observe that discipline which they do not have. Yet, the injury caused by campaigning in the field in the winter ought to be observed, remembering that the French in the year one thousand five hundred three (1503) were routed on the Garigliano by the winter, and not by the Spaniards. For, as I have told you, whoever assaults has even greater disadvantage, because weather harms him more when he is in the territory of others, and wants to make war. Whence he is compelled either to withstand the inconveniences of water and cold in order to keep together, or to divide his forces to escape them. But whoever waits, can select the place to his liking, and await him (the enemy) with fresh forces, and can unite them in a moment, and go out to find the enemy forces who cannot withstand their fury. Thus were the French routed, and thus are those always routed who assault an enemy in winter time, who in itself has prudence. Whoever, therefore, does not want the forces, organization, discipline, and virtu, in some part, to be of value, makes war in the field in the winter time. And because the Romans wanted to avail themselves of all of these things, into which they put so much industry, avoided not only the winter time, but rough mountains and difficult places, and anything else which could impede their ability to demonstrate their skill and virtu. So this suffices to (answer) your question; and now let us come to treat of the attacking and defending of towns, and of the sites, and of their edifices.

BOOK VII.

You ought to know that towns and fortresses can be strong either by nature or industry. Those are strong by nature which are surrounded by rivers or marshes, as is Mantua or Ferrara, or those situated on a rock or sloping mountain, as Monaco and San Leo; for those situated on mountains which are not difficult to climb, today are ((with respect to caves and artillery)) very weak. And, therefore, very often today a plain is sought on which to build (a city) to make it strong by industry. The first industry is, to make the walls twisted and full of turned recesses; which pattern results in the enemy not being able to approach them, as they will be able to be attacked easily not only from the front, but on the flanks. If the walls are made too high, they are excessively exposed to the blows of the artillery; if they are made too low, they are very easily scaled. If you dig ditches (moats) in front of them to make it difficult (to employ) ladders, if it should happen that the enemy fills them ((which a large army can do easily)) the wall becomes prey to the enemy. I believe, therefore, ((subject to a better judgement)) that if you want to make provision against both evils the wall ought to be made high, with the ditches inside and not outside. This is the strongest way to build that is possible, for it protects you from artillery and ladders, and does not give the enemy the faculty of filling the ditches. The wall, therefore, ought to be as high as occurs to you, and not less than three arm lengths wide, to make it more difficult to be ruined. It ought to have towers placed at intervals of two hundred arm lengths. The ditch inside ought to be at least thirty arm lengths wide and twelve deep, and all the earth that is excavated in making the ditch is thrown toward the city, and is sustained by a wall that is part of the base of the ditch, and extends again as much above the ground, as that a man may take cover behind it: which has the effect of making the depth of the ditch greater. In the base of the ditch, every two hundred arm lengths, there should be a matted enclosure, which with the artillery, causes injury to anyone who should descend into it. The heavy artillery which defends the city, are placed behind the wall enclosing the ditch; for to defend the wall from the front, as it is high, it is not possible to use conveniently anything else other than small or middle sized guns. If the enemy comes to scale your wall, the height of the first wall easily protects you. If he comes with artillery, he must first batter down the first wall: but once it is battered down, because the nature of all batterings is to cause the wall to fall toward the battered side, the ruin of the wall will result ((since it does not find a ditch which receives and hides it)) in doubling the depth of the ditch, so that it is not possible for you to pass on further as you will find a ruin that holds you back and a ditch which will impede you, and from the wall of the ditch, in safety, the enemy artillery kills you. The only remedy there exists for you, is to fill up the ditch: which is very difficult, as much because its capacity is large, as from the difficulty you have in approaching it, since the walls being winding and recessed, you can enter among them only with difficulty, for the reasons previously mentioned; and then, having to climb over the ruin with the material in hand, causes you a very great difficulty: so that I know a city so organized is completely indestructible.

BATTISTA

If, in addition to the ditch inside, there should be one also on the outside, wouldn’t (the encampment) be stronger?

FABRIZIO

It would be, without doubt; but my reasoning is, that if you want to dig one ditch only, it is better inside than outside.

BATTISTA

Would you have water in the ditch, or would you leave them dry?

FABRIZIO

Opinions are different; for ditches full of water protect you from (subterranean) tunnels, the ditches without water make it more difficult for you to fill them in again. But, considering everything, I would have them without water; for they are more secure, and, as it has been observed that in winter time the ditches ice over, the capture of a city is made easy, as happened at Mirandola when Pope Julius besieged it. And to protect yourself from tunnels, I would dig them so deep, that whoever should want to go (tunnel) deeper, should find water. I would also build the fortresses in a way similar to the walls and ditches, so that similar difficulty would be encountered in destroying it I want to call to mind one good thing to anyone who defends a city. This is, that they do not erect bastions outside, and they be distant from its wall. And another to anyone who builds the fortresses: And this is, that he not build any redoubts in them, into which whoever is inside can retire when the wall is lost. What makes me give the first counsel is, that no one ought to do anything, through the medium of which, you begin to lose your reputation without any remedy, the loss of which makes others esteem you less, and dismay those who undertake your defense. And what I say will always happen to you if you erect bastions outside the town you have to defend, for you will always lose them, as you are unable to defend small things when they are placed under the fury of the artillery; so that in losing them, they become the beginning and the cause of your ruin. Genoa, when it rebelled from King Louis of France, erected some bastions on the hills outside the City, which, as soon as they were lost, and they were lost quickly, also caused the city to be lost. As to the second counsel, I affirm there is nothing more dangerous concerning a fortress, than to be able to retire into it, for the hope that men have (lose) when they abandon a place, cause it to be lost, and when it is lost, it then causes the entire fortress to be lost. For an example, there is the recent loss of the fortress of Forli when the Countess Catherine defended it against Caesare Borgia, son of Pope Alexander the Sixth, who had led the army of the King of France. That entire fortress was full of places by both of them: For it was originally a citadel. There was a moat before coming to the fortress, so that it was entered by means of a draw bridge. The fortress was divided into three parts, and each part separated by a ditch, and with water between them; and one passed from one place to another by means of bridges: whence the Duke battered one of those parts of the fortress with artillery, and opened up part of a wall; whence Messer Giovanni Da Casale, who was in charge of the garrison, did not think of defending that opening, but abandoned to retire into the other places; so that the forces of the Duke, having entered that part without opposition, immediately seized all of it, for they became masters of the bridges that connected the members (parts) with each other. He lost the fort which was held to be indestructible because of two mistakes: one, because it had so many redoubts: the other, because no one was made master of his bridges (they were unprotected). The poorly built fortress and the little prudence of the defender, therefore, brought disgrace to the magnanimous enterprise of the Countess, who had the courage to face an army which neither the King of Naples, nor the Duke of Milan, had faced. And although his (the Duke) efforts did not have a good ending, none the less, he became noted for those honors which his virtu merited. Which was testified to by the many epigrams made in those times praising him. If I should therefore have to build a fortress, I would make its walls strong, and ditches in the manner we have discussed, nor would I build anything else to live in but houses, and they would be weak and low, so that they would not impede the sight of the walls to anyone who might be in the plaza, so that the Captain should be able to see with (his own) eyes where he could be of help, and that everyone should understand that if the walls and the ditch were lost, the entire fortress would be lost. And even if I should build some redoubts, I would have the bridges so separated, that each part should be master of (protect) the bridge in its own area, arranging that it be buttressed on its pilasters in the middle of the ditch.

BATTISTA

You have said that, today, the little things can not be defended, and it seems to me I have understood the opposite, that the smaller the thing was, the better it was defended.

FABRIZIO

You have not understood well, for today that place can not be called strong, where he who defends it does not have room to retire among new ditches and ramparts: for such is the fury of the artillery, that he who relies on the protection of only one wall or rampart, deceives himself. And as the bastions ((if you want them not to exceed their regular measurements, for then they would be terraces and castles)) are not made so that others can retire into them, they are lost quickly. And therefore it is a wise practice to leave these bastions outside, and fortify the entrances of the terraces, and cover their gates with revets, so that one does not go in or out of the gate in a straight line, and there is a ditch with a bridge over it from the revet to the gate. The gates are also fortified with shutters, so as to allow your men to reenter, when, after going out to fight, it happens that the enemy drives them back, and in the ensuing mixing of men, the enemy does not enter with them. And therefore, these things have also been found which the ancients called “cataracts”, which, being let down, keep out the enemy but saves one’s friends; for in such cases, one can not avail himself of anything else, neither bridges, or the gate, since both are occupied by the crowd.

BATTISTA

I have seen these shutters that you mention, made of small beams, in Germany, in the form of iron grids, while those of ours are made entirely of massive planks. I would want to know whence this difference arises, and which is stronger.

FABRIZIO

I will tell you again, that the methods and organizations of war in all the world, with respect to those of the ancients, are extinct; but in Italy, they are entirely lost, and if there is something more powerful, it results from the examples of the Ultramontanes. You may have heard, and these others can remember, how weakly things were built before King Charles of France crossed into Italy in the year one thousand four hundred ninety four (1494). The battlements were made a half arm length thin (wide), the places for the cross-bowmen and bombardiers (gunners) were made with a small aperture outside and a large one inside, and with many other defects, which I will omit, not to be tedious; for the defenses are easily taken away from slender battlements; the (places for) bombardiers built that way are easily opened (demolished). Now from the French, we have learned to make the battlements wide and large, and also to make the (places of the) bombardiers wide on the inside, and narrow it at the center of the wall, and then again widen it up to the outside edge: and this results in the artillery being able to demolish its defenses only with difficulty, The French, moreover, have many other arrangements such as these, which, because they have not been seen thus, have not been given consideration. Among which, is this method of the shutters made in the form of a grid, which is by far a better method than yours; for if you have to repair the shutters of a gate such as yours, lowering it if you are locked inside, and hence are unable to injure the enemy, so that they can attack it safely either in the dark or with a fire. But if it is made in the shape of a grid, you can, once it is lowered, by those weaves and intervals, to be able to defend it with lances, cross-bows, and every other kind of arms.

BATTISTA

I have also seen another Ultramontane custom in Italy, and it is this, making the carriages of the artillery with the spokes of the wheels bent toward the axles. I would like to know why they make them this way, as it seems to me they would be stronger straight, as those of our wheels.

FABRIZIO

Never believe that things which differ from the ordinary are made at home, but if you would believe that I should make them such as to be more beautiful, you would err; for where strength is necessary, no account is taken of beauty; but they all arise from being safer and stronger than ours. The reason is this. When the carriage is loaded, it either goes on a level, or inclines to the right or left side. When it goes level, the wheels equally sustain the weight, which, being divided equally between them, does not burden them much; when it inclines, it comes to have all the weight of the load upon that wheel on which it inclines. If its spokes are straight, they can easily collapse, since the wheel being inclined, the spokes also come to incline, and do not sustain the weight in a straight line. And, thus, when the carriage rides level and when they carry less weight, they come to be stronger; when the carriage rides inclined and when they carry more weight, they are weaker. The contrary happens to the bent spokes of the French carriages; for when the carriage inclines to one side, it points (leans straight) on them, since being ordinarily bent, they then come to be (more) straight (vertical), and can sustain all the weight strongly; and when the carriage goes level and they (the spikes) are bent, they sustain half the weight.

But let us return to our Cities and Fortresses. The French, for the greater security of their towns, and to enable them during sieges to put into and withdraw forces from them more easily, also employ, in addition to the things mentioned, another arrangement, of which I have not yet seen any example in Italy: and it is this, that they erect two pilasters at the outside point of a draw-bridge, and upon each of them they balance a beam so that half of it comes over the bridge, and the other half outside. Then they join small beams to the part outside, which are woven together from one beam to another in the shape of a grid, and on the inside they attach a chain to the end of each beam. When they want to close the bridge from the outside, therefore, they release the chains and allow all that gridded part to drop, which closes the bridge when it is lowered, and when they want to open it, they pull on the chains, and they (gridded beams) come to be raised; and they can be raised so that a man can pass under, but not a horse, and also so much that a horse with the man can pass under, and also can be closed entirely, for it is lowered and raised like a lace curtain. This arrangement is more secure than the shutters: for it can be impeded by the enemy so that it cannot come down only with difficulty, (and) it does not come down in a straight line like the shutters which can easily be penetrated. Those who want to build a City, therefore, ought to have all the things mentioned installed; and in addition, they should want at least one mile around the wall where either farming or building would not be allowed, but should be open field where no bushes, embankments, trees, or houses, should exist which would impede the vision, and which should be in the rear of a besieging enemy. It is to be noted that a town which has its ditches outside with its embankments higher than the ground, is very weak; for they provide a refuge for the enemy who assaults you, but does not impede him in attacking you, because they can be easily forced (opened) and give his artillery an emplacement.

But let us pass into the town. I do not want to waste much time in showing you that, in addition to the things mentioned previously, provisions for living and fighting supplies must also be included, for they are the things which everyone needs, and without them, every other provision is in vain. And, generally, two things ought to be done, provision yourself, and deprive the enemy of the opportunity to avail himself of the resources of your country. Therefore, any straw, grain, and cattle, which you cannot receive in your house, ought to be destroyed. Whoever defends a town ought to see to it that nothing is done in a tumultuous and disorganized manner, and have means to let everyone know what he has to do in any incident. The manner is this, that the women, children, aged, and the public stay at home, and leave the town free to the young and the brave: who armed, are distributed for defense, part being on the walls, part at the gates, part in the principal places of the City, in order to remedy those evils which might arise within; another part is not assigned to any place, but is prepared to help anyone requesting their help. And when matters are so organized, only with difficulty can tumults arise which disturb you. I want you to note also that in attacking and defending Cities, nothing gives the enemy hope of being able to occupy a town, than to know the inhabitants are not in the habit of looking for the enemy; for often Cities are lost entirely from fear, without any other action. When one assaults such a City, he should make all his appearances (ostentatious) terrible. On the other hand, he who is assaulted ought to place brave men, who are not afraid of thoughts, but by arms, on the side where the enemy (comes to) fight; for if the attempt proves vain, courage grows in the besieged, and then the enemy is forced to overcome those inside with his virtu and his reputation.

The equipment with which the ancients defended the towns were many, such as, Ballistas, Onagers, Scorpions, Arc-Ballistas, Large Bows, Slingshots; and those with which they assaulted were also many, such as, Battering Rams, Wagons, Hollow Metal Fuses (Muscoli), Trench Covers (Plutei), Siege Machines (Vinee), Scythes, Turtles (somewhat similar to present day tanks). In place of these things, today there is the artillery, which serves both attackers and defenders, and, hence, I will not speak further about it. But let us return to our discussion, and come to the details of the siege (attack). One ought to take care not to be able to be taken by hunger, and not to be forced (to capitulate) by assaults. As to hunger, it has been said that it is necessary, before the siege arrives, to be well provided with food. But when it is lacking during a long siege, some extraordinary means of being provided by friends who want to save you, have been observed to be employed, especially if a river runs in the middle of the besieged City, as were the Romans, when their castle of Casalino was besieged by Hannibal, who, not being able to send them anything else by way of the river, threw great quantities of nuts into it, which being carried by the river without being able to be impeded, fed the Casalinese for some time. Some, when they were besieged, in order to show the enemy they had grain left over, and to make them despair of being able to besiege (defeat) them by hunger, have either thrown bread outside the walls, or have given a calf grain to eat, and then allowed it to be taken, so that when it was killed, and being found full of grain, gave signs of an abundance which they do not have. On the other hand, excellent Captains have used various methods to enfamish the enemy. Fabius allowed the Campanians to sow so that they should lack that grain which they were sowing. Dionysius, when he was besieged at Reggio, feigned wanting to make an accord with them, and while it was being drawn, had himself provided with food, and then when, by this method, had depleted them of grain, pressed them and starved them. Alexander the Great, when he wanted to capture Leucadia, captured all the surrounding castles, and allowed the men from them to take refuge in it (the City), and thus by adding a great multitude, he starved them. As to assaults, it has been said that one ought to guard against the first onrush, with which the Romans often occupied many towns, assaulting them all at once from every side, and they called it attacking the city by its crown: as did Scipio when he occupied new Carthage in Spain. If this onrush is withstood, then only with difficulty will you be overcome. And even if it should occur that the enemy had entered inside the city by having forced the walls, even the small terraces give you some remedy if they are not abandoned; for many armies have, once they have entered into a town, been repulsed or slain. The remedy is, that the towns people keep themselves in high places, and fight them from their houses and towers. Which thing, those who have entered in the City, have endeavored to win in two ways: the one, to open the gates of the City and make a way for the townspeople by which they can escape in safety: the other, to send out a (message) by voice signifying that no one would be harmed unless armed, and whoever would throw his arms on the ground, they would pardon. Which thing has made the winning of many Cities easy. In addition to this, Cities are easy to capture if you fall on them unexpectedly, which you can do when you find yourself with your army far away, so that they do not believe that you either want to assault them, or that you can do it without your presenting yourself, because of the distance from the place. Whence, if you assault them secretly and quickly, it will almost always happen that you will succeed in reporting the victory. I unwillingly discuss those things which have happened in our times, as I would burden you with myself and my (ideas), and I would not know what to say in discussing other things. None the less, concerning this matter, I can not but cite the example of Cesare Borgia, called the Duke Valentine, who, when he was at Nocera with his forces, under the pretext of going to harm Camerino, turned toward the State of Urbino, and occupied a State in one day and without effort, which some other, with great time and expense, would barely have occupied. Those who are besieged must also guard themselves from the deceit and cunning of the enemy, and, therefore, the besieged should not trust anything which they see the enemy doing continuously, but always believe they are being done by deceit, and can change to injure them. When Domitius Calvinus was besieging a town, he undertook habitually to circle the walls of the City every day with a good part of his forces. Whence the townspeople, believing he was doing this for exercise, lightened the guard: when Domitius became aware of this, he assaulted them, and destroyed them. Some Captains, when they heard beforehand that aid was to come to the besieged, have clothed their soldiers with the insignia of those who were to come, and having introduced them inside, have occupied the town. Chimon, the Athenian, one night set fire to a Temple that was outside the town, whence, when the townspeople arrived to succor it, they left the town to the enemy to plunder. Some have put to death those who left the besieged castle to blacksmith (shoe horses), and redressing their soldiers with the clothes of the blacksmiths, who then surrendered the town to him. The ancient Captains also employed various methods to despoil the garrisons of the towns they want to take. Scipio, when he was in Africa, and desiring to occupy several castles in which garrisons had been placed by Carthaginians, feigned several times wanting to assault them, but then from fear not only abstained, but drew away from them. Which Hannibal believing to be true, in order to pursue him with a larger force and be able to attack him more easily, withdrew all the garrisons from them: (and) Scipio becoming aware of this, sent Maximus, his Captain, to capture them. Pyrrhus, when he was waging war in Sclavonia, in one of the Chief Cities of that country, where a large force had been brought in to garrison it, feigned to be desperate of being able to capture it, and turning to other places, caused her, in order to succor them, to empty herself of the garrison, so that it became easy to be forced (captured). Many have polluted the water and diverted rivers to take a town, even though they then did not succeed. Sieges and surrenders are also easily accomplished, by dismaying them by pointing out an accomplished victory, or new help which is come to their disfavor. The ancient Captains sought to occupy towns by treachery, corrupting some inside, but have used different methods. Some have sent one of their men under the disguise of a fugitive, who gained authority and confidence with the enemy, which he afterward used for his own benefit. Many by this means have learned the procedures of the guards, and through this knowledge have taken the town. Some have blocked the gate so that it could not be locked with a cart or a beam under some pretext, and by this means, made the entry easy to the enemy. Hannibal persuaded one to give him a castle of the Romans, and that he should feign going on a hunt at night, to show his inability to go by day for fear of the enemy, and when he returned with the game, placed his men inside with it, and killing the guard, captured the gate. You also deceive the besieged by drawing them outside the town and distant from it, by feigning flight when they assault you. And many ((among whom was Hannibal)) have, in addition, allowed their quarters to be taken in order to have the opportunity of placing them in their midst, and take the town from them. They deceive also by feigning departure, as did Forminus, the Athenian, who having plundered the country of the Calcidians, afterwards received their ambassadors, and filled their City with promises of safety and good will, who, as men of little caution, were shortly after captured by Forminus. The besieged ought to look out for men whom they have among them that are suspect, but sometimes they may want to assure themselves of these by reward, as well as by punishment. Marcellus, recognizing that Lucius Bancius Nolanus had turned to favor Hannibal, employed so much humanity and liberality toward him, that, from an enemy, he made him a very good friend. The besieged ought to use more diligence in their guards when the enemy is distant, than when he is near. And they ought to guard those places better which they think can be attacked less; for many towns have been lost when the enemy assaulted them on a side from which they did not believe they would be assaulted. And this deception occurs for two reasons: either because the place is strong and they believe it is inaccessible, or because the enemy cunningly assaults him on one side with feigned uproars, and on the other silently with the real assaults. And, therefore, the besieged ought to have a great awareness of this, and above all at all times, but especially at night, have good guards at the walls, and place there not only men, but dogs; and keep them ferocious and ready, which by smell, detect the presence of the enemy, and with their baying discover him. And, in addition to dogs, it has been found that geese have also saved a City, as happened to the Romans when the Gauls besieged the Capitol. When Athens was besieged by the Spartans, Alcibiades, in order to see if the guards were awake, arranged that when a light was raised at night, all the guards should rise, and inflicted a penalty on those who did not observe it. Hissicratus, the Athenian, slew a guard who was sleeping, saying he was leaving him as he had found him. Those who are besieged have had various ways of sending news to their friends, and in order not to send embassies by voice, wrote letters in cipher, and concealed them in various ways. The ciphers are according to the desires of whoever arranges them, the method of concealment is varied. Some have written inside the scabbard of a sword. Others have put these letters inside raw bread, and then baked it, and gave it as food to him who brought it. Others have placed them in the most secret places of the body. Others have put them in the collar of a dog known to him who brings it. Others have written ordinary things in a letter, and then have written with water (invisible ink) between one line and another, which afterwards by wetting or scalding (caused) the letter to appear. This method has been very astutely observed in our time, where some wanting to point out a thing which was to be kept secret to their friends who lived inside a town, and not wanting to trust it in person, sent communications written in the customary manner, but interlined as I mentioned above, and had them hung at the gates of a Temple; which were then taken and read by those who recognized them from the countersigns they knew. Which is a very cautious method, because whoever brings it can be deceived by you, and you do not run any danger. There are infinite other ways by which anyone by himself likewise can find and read them. But one writes with more facility to the besieged than the besieged do to friends outside, for the latter can not send out such letters except by one who leaves the town under the guise of a fugitive, which is a doubtful and dangerous exploit when the enemy is cautious to a point. But as to those that are sent inside, he who is sent can, under many pretexts, go into the camp that is besieged, and from here await a convenient opportunity to jump into the town.

But let us come to talk of present captures, and I say that, if they occur when you are being fought in your City, which is not arranged with ditches inside, as we pointed out a little while ago, when you do not want the enemy to enter by the breaks in the wall made by artillery ((as there is no remedy for the break which it makes)), it is necessary for you, while the artillery is battering, to dig a ditch inside the wall that is being hit, at least thirty arm lengths wide, and throw all (the earth) that is excavated toward the town, which makes embankments and the ditch deeper: and you must do this quickly, so that if the wall falls, the ditch will be excavated at least five or six arm lengths deep. While this ditch is being excavated, it is necessary that it be closed on each side by a block house. And if the wall is so strong that it gives you time to dig the ditches and erect the block houses, that part which is battered comes to be stronger than the rest of the City, for such a repair comes to have the form that we gave to inside ditches. But if the wall is weak and does not give you time, then there is need to show virtu, and oppose them with armed forces, and with all your strength. This method of repair was observed by the Pisans when you went to besiege them, and they were able to do this because they had strong walls which gave them time, and the ground firm and most suitable for erecting ramparts and making repairs. Which, had they not had this benefit, would have been lost. It would always be prudent, therefore, first to prepare yourself, digging the ditches inside your City and throughout all its circuit, as we devised a little while ago; for in this case, as the defenses have been made, the enemy is awaited with leisure and safety. The ancients often occupied towns with tunnels in two ways: either they dug a secret tunnel which came out inside the town, and through which they entered it, in the way in which the Romans took the City of the Veienti: or, by tunnelling they undermined a wall, and caused it to be ruined. This last method is more effective today, and causes Cities located high up to be weaker, for they can be undermined more easily, and then when that powder which ignites in an instant is placed inside those tunnels, it not only ruins the wall, but the mountains are opened, and the fortresses are entirely disintegrated into several parts. The remedy for this is to build on a plain, and make the ditch which girds your City so deep, that the enemy can not excavate further below it without finding water, which is the only enemy of these excavations. And even if you find a knoll within the town that you defend, you cannot remedy it otherwise than to dig many deep wells within your walls, which are as outlets to those excavations which the enemy might be able to arrange against it. Another remedy is to make an excavation opposite to where you learn he is excavating: which method readily impedes him, but is very difficult to foresee, when you are besieged by a cautious enemy. Whoever is besieged, above all, ought to take care not to be attacked in times of repose, as after having engaged in battle, after having stood guard, that is, at dawn, the evening between night and day, and, above all, at dinner time, in which times many towns have been captured, and many armies ruined by those inside. One ought, therefore, to be always on guard with diligence on every side, and in good part well armed. I do not want to miss telling you that what makes defending a City or an encampment difficult, is to have to keep all the forces you have in them disunited; for the enemy being able all together to assault you at his discretion, you must keep every place guarded on all sides, and thus he assaults you with his entire force, and you defend it with part of yours. The besieged can also be completely overcome, while those outside cannot unless repulsed; whence many who have been besieged either in their encampment or in a town, although inferior in strength, have suddenly issued forth with all their forces, and have overcome the enemy. Marcellus did this at Nola, and Caesar did this in Gaul, where his encampment being assaulted by a great number of Gauls, and seeing he could not defend it without having to divide this forces into several parts, and unable to stay within the stockade with the driving attack of the enemy, opened the encampment on one side, and turning to that side with all his forces, attacked them with such fury, and with such virtu, that he overcame and defeated them. The constancy of the besieged has also often displeased and dismayed the besieger. And when Pompey was affronting Caesar, and Caesar’s army was suffering greatly from hunger, some of his bread was brought to Pompey, who, seeing it made of grass, commanded it not be shown to his army in order not to frighten it, seeing what kind of enemies he had to encounter. Nothing gave the Romans more honor in the war against Hannibal, as their constancy; for, in whatever more inimical and adverse fortune, they never asked for peace, (and) never gave any sign of fear: rather, when Hannibal was around Rome, those fields on which he had situated his quarters were sold at a higher price than they would ordinarily have been sold in other times; and they were so obstinate in their enterprises, that to defend Rome, they did not leave off attacking Capua, which was being besieged by the Romans at the same time Rome was being besieged.

I know that I have spoken to you of many things, which you have been able to understand and consider by yourselves; none the less, I have done this ((as I also told you today)) to be able to show you, through them, the better kind of training, and also to satisfy those, if there should be any, who had not had that opportunity to learn, as you have. Nor does it appear to me there is anything left for me to tell you other than some general rules, with which you should be very familiar: which are these. What benefits the enemy, harms you; and what benefits you, harm the enemy. Whoever is more vigilant in observing the designs of the enemy in war, and endures much hardship in training his army, will incur fewer dangers, and can have greater hope for victory. Never lead your soldiers into an engagement unless you are assured of their courage, know they are without fear, and are organized, and never make an attempt unless you see they hope for victory. It is better to defeat the enemy by hunger than with steel; in such victory fortune counts more than virtu. No proceeding is better than that which you have concealed from the enemy until the time you have executed it. To know how to recognize an opportunity in war, and take it, benefits you more than anything else. Nature creates few men brave, industry and training makes many. Discipline in war counts more than fury. If some on the side of the enemy desert to come to your service, if they be loyal, they will always make you a great acquisition; for the forces of the adversary diminish more with the loss of those who flee, than with those who are killed, even though the name of the fugitives is suspect to the new friends, and odious to the old. It is better in organizing an engagement to reserve great aid behind the front line, than to spread out your soldiers to make a greater front. He is overcome with difficulty, who knows how to recognize his forces and those of the enemy. The virtu of the soldiers is worth more than a multitude, and the site is often of more benefit than virtu. New and speedy things frighten armies, while the customary and slow things are esteemed little by them: you will therefore make your army experienced, and learn (the strength) of a new enemy by skirmishes, before you come to an engagement with him. Whoever pursues a routed enemy in a disorganized manner, does nothing but become vanquished from having been a victor. Whoever does not make provisions necessary to live (eat), is overcome without steel. Whoever trusts more in cavalry than in infantry, or more in infantry than in cavalry, must settle for the location. If you want to see whether any spy has come into the camp during the day, have no one go to his quarters. Change your proceeding when you become aware that the enemy has foreseen it. Counsel with many on the things you ought to do, and confer with few on what you do afterwards. When soldiers are confined to their quarters, they are kept there by fear or punishment; then when they are led by war, (they are led) by hope and reward. Good Captains never come to an engagement unless necessity compels them, or the opportunity calls them. Act so your enemies do not know how you want to organize your army for battle, and in whatever way you organize them, arrange it so that the first line can be received by the second and by the third. In a battle, never use a company for some other purpose than what you have assigned it to, unless you want to cause disorder. Accidents are remedied with difficulty, unless you quickly take the facility of thinking. Men, steel, money, and bread, are the sinews of war; but of these four, the first two are more necessary, for men and steel find find money and bread, but money and bread do not find men and steel. The unarmed rich man is the prize of the poor soldier. Accustom your soldiers to despise delicate living and luxurious clothing.

This is as much as occurs to me generally to remind you, and I know I could have told you of many other things in my discussion, as for example, how and in how many ways the ancients organized their ranks, how they dressed, and how they trained in many other things; and to give you many other particulars, which I have not judged necessary to narrate, as much because you are able to see them, as because my intention has not been to show you in detail how the ancient army was created, but how an army should be organized in these times, which should have more virtu than they now have. Whence it does not please me to discuss the ancient matters further than those I have judged necessary to such an introduction. I know I should have enlarged more on the cavalry, and also on naval warfare; for whoever defines the military, says, that it is an army on land and on the sea, on foot and on horseback. Of naval matters, I will not presume to talk, not because of not being informed, but because I should leave the talk to the Genoese and Venetians, who have made much study of it, and have done great things in the past. Of the cavalry, I also do not want to say anything other than what I have said above, this part being ((as I said)) less corrupted. In addition to this, if the infantry, who are the nerve of the army, are well organized, of necessity it happens that good cavalry be created. I would only remind you that whoever organizes the military in his country, so as to fill (the quota) of cavalry, should make two provisions: the one, that he should distribute horses of good breed throughout his countryside, and accustom his men to make a round-up of fillies, as you do in this country with calves and mules: the other, ((so that the round-up men find a buyer)) I would prohibit anyone to keep mules who did not keep a horse; so that whoever wanted to keep a mount only, would also be constrained to keep a horse; and, in addition, none should be able to dress in silk, except whoever keeps a horse. I understand this arrangement has been done by some Princes of our times, and to have resulted in an excellent cavalry being produced in their countries in a very brief time. About other things, how much should be expected from the cavalry, I will go back to what I said to you today, and to that which is the custom. Perhaps you will also desire to learn what parts a Captain ought to have. In this, I will satisfy you in a brief manner; for I would not knowingly select any other man than one who should know how to do all those things which we have discussed today. And these would still not be enough for him if he did not know how to find them out by himself, for no one without imagination was ever very great in his profession; and if imagination makes for honor in other things, it will, above all, honor you in this one. And it is to be observed, that every creation (imagination), even though minor, is celebrated by the writers, as is seen where they praised Alexander the Great, who, in order to break camp more secretly, did not give the signal with the trumpet, but with a hat on the end of a lance. He is also praised for having ordered his soldiers, when coming to battle with the enemy, to kneel with the left foot (knee) so that they could more strongly withstand the attack (of the enemy); which not only gave him victory, but also so much praise that all the statues erected in his honor show him in that pose.

But as it is time to finish this discussion, I want to return to the subject, and so, in part, escape that penalty which, in this town, custom decrees for those who do not return. If you remember well, Cosimo, you said to me that I was, on the one hand, an exalter of antiquity, and a censurer of those who did not imitate them in serious matters, and, on the other (hand), in matters of war in which I worked very hard, I did not imitate them, you were unable to discover the reason: to that I replied, that men who want to do something must first prepare themselves to know how to do it in order to be able afterwards to do it when the occasion permits it. whether or not I would know how to bring the army to the ancient ways, I would rather you be the judge, who have heard me discuss on this subject at length; whence you have been able to know how much time I have consumed on these thoughts, and I also believe you should be able to imagine how much desire there is in me to put them into effect. Which you can guess, if I was ever able to do it, or if ever the opportunity was given to me. Yet, to make you more certain, and for my greater justification, I would like also to cite you the reasons, and in part, will observe what I promised you, to show you the ease and the difficulty that are present in such imitation. I say to you, therefore, that no activity among men today is easier to restore to its ancient ways than the military; but for those only who are Princes of so large a State, that they are able to assemble fifteen or twenty thousand young men from among their own subjects. On the other hand, nothing is more difficult than this to those who do not have such a convenience. And, because I want you to understand this part better, you have to know that Captains who are praised are of two kinds. The one includes those, who, with an army (well) ordered through its own natural discipline, have done great things, such as were the greater part of the Roman Citizens, and others, who have led armies, who have not had any hardship in maintaining them good, and to see to it that they were safely led. The other includes those who not only had to overcome the enemy, but before they came to this, had been compelled to make their army good and well ordered, (and) who, without doubt, deserve greater praise that those others merited who with a army which was (naturally) good have acted with so much virtu. Such as these were Pelopidas, Epaminondas, Tullus Hostilius, Phillip of Macedonia father of Alexander, Cyrus King of the Persians, and Gracchus the Roman. All these had first to make the army good, and then fight with it. All of these were able to do so, as much by their prudence, as by having subjects capable of being directed in such practices. Nor would it have been possible for any of them to accomplish any praiseworthy deed, no matter how good and excellent they might have been, should they have been in an alien country, full of corrupt men, and not accustomed to sincere obedience. It is not enough, therefore, in Italy, to govern an army already trained, but it is necessary first to know how to do it, and then how to command it. And of these, there need to be those Princes, who because they have a large State and many subjects, have the opportunity to accomplish this. Of whom, I cannot be one, for I have never commanded, nor can I command except armies of foreigners, and men obligated to others and not to me. Whether or not it is possible to introduce into them (those Princes) some of the things we discussed today, I want to leave to your judgement. Would I make one of these soldiers who practice today carry more arms than is customary, and in addition, food for two or three days, and a shovel? Should I make him dig, or keep him many hours every day under arms in feigned exercises, so that in real (battles) afterward he could be of value to me? Would they abstain from gambling, lasciviousness, swearing, and insolence, which they do daily? Would they be brought to so much discipline, obedience, and respect, that a tree full of apples which should be found in the middle of an encampment, would be left intact, as is read happened many times in the ancient armies? What can I promise them, by which they well respect, love, or fear me, when, with a war ended, they no longer must come to me for anything? Of what can I make them ashamed, who are born and brought up without shame? By what Deity or Saints do I make them take an oath? By those they adore, or by those they curse? I do not know any whom they adore; but I well know that they curse them all. How can I believe they will observe the promises to those men, for whom they show their contempt hourly? How can those who deprecate God, have reverence for men? What good customs, therefore, is it possible to instill in such people? And if you should tell me the Swiss and the Spaniards are good, I should confess they are far better than the Italians: but if you will note my discussion, and the ways in which both proceeded, you will see that there are still many things missing among them (the Swiss and Spaniards) to bring them up to the perfection of the ancients. And the Swiss have been good from their natural customs, for the reasons I told you today, and the others (Spaniards) from necessity; for when they fight in a foreign country, it seems to them they are constrained to win or die, and as no place appeared to them where they might flee, they became good. But it is a goodness defective in many parts, for there is nothing good in them except that they are accustomed to await the enemy up to the point of the pike and of the sword. Nor would there be anyone suitable to teach them what they lack, and much less anyone who does not (speak) their language.

But let us turn to the Italians, who, because they have not wise Princes, have not produced any good army; and because they did not have the necessity that the Spaniards had, have not undertaken it by themselves, so that they remain the shame of the world. And the people are not to blame, but their Princes are, who have been castigated, and by their ignorance have received a just punishment, ignominously losing the State, (and) without any show of virtu. Do you want to see if what I tell you is true? Consider how many wars have been waged in Italy, from the passage of King Charles (of France) until today; and wars usually make men warlike and acquire reputations; these, as much as they have been great (big) and cruel, so much more have caused its members and its leaders to lose reputation. This necessarily points out, that the customary orders were not, and are not, good, and there is no one who know how to take up the new orders. Nor do you ever believe that reputation will be acquired by Italian arms, except in the manner I have shown, and by those who have large States in Italy, for this custom can be instilled in men who are simple, rough, and your own, but not to men who are malignant, have bad habits, and are foreigners. And a good sculptor will never be found who believes he can make a beautiful statue from a piece of marble poorly shaped, even though it may be a rough one. Our Italian Princes, before they tasted the blows of the ultramontane wars, believed it was enough for them to know what was written, think of a cautious reply, write a beautiful letter, show wit and promptness in his sayings and in his words, know how to weave a deception, ornament himself with gems and gold, sleep and eat with greater splendor than others, keep many lascivious persons around, conduct himself avariciously and haughtily toward his subjects, become rotten with idleness, hand out military ranks at his will, express contempt for anyone who may have demonstrated any praiseworthy manner, want their words should be the responses of oracles; nor were these little men aware that they were preparing themselves to be the prey of anyone who assaulted them. From this, then, in the year one thousand four hundred ninety four (1494), there arose the great frights, the sudden flights, and the miraculous (stupendous) losses: and those most powerful States of Italy were several times sacked and despoiled in this manner. But what is worse is, that those who remained persist in the same error, and exist in the same disorder: and they do not consider that those who held the State anciently, had done all those things we discussed, and that they concentrated on preparing the body for hardships and the mind not to be afraid of danger. Whence it happened that Caesar, Alexander, and all those excellent men and Princes, were the first among the combatants, went around on foot, and even if they did lose their State, wanted also to lose their lives; so that they lived and died with virtu. And if they, or part of them, could be accused of having too much ambition to rule, there never could be found in them any softness or anything to condemn, which makes men delicate and cowardly. If these things were to be read and believed by these Princes, it would be impossible that they would not change their way of living, and their countries not change in fortune. And as, in the beginning of our discussion, you complained of your organization, I tell you, if you had organized it as we discussed above, and it did not give a good account for itself, then you have reason to complain; but if it is not organized and trained as I have said, (the Army) it can have reason to complain of you, who have made an abortion, and not a perfect figure (organization). The Venetians also, and the Duke of Ferrara, begun it, but did not pursue it; which was due to their fault, and not of their men. And I affirm to now, that any of them who have States in Italy today, will begin in this way, he will be the Lord higher than any other in this Province; and it will happen to his State as happened to the Kingdom of the Macedonians, which, coming under Phillip, who had learned the manner of organizing the armies from Epaminondas, the Theban, became, with these arrangements and practices ((while the rest of Greece was in idleness, and attended to reciting comedies)) so powerful, that in a few years, he was able to occupy it completely, and leave such a foundation to his son, that he was able to make himself Prince of the entire world. Whoever disparages these thoughts, therefore, if he be a Prince, disparages his Principality, and if he be a Citizen, his City. And I complain of nature, which either ought to make me a recognizer of this, or ought to have given me the faculty to be able to pursue it. Nor, even today when I am old, do I think I can have the opportunity: and because of this, I have been liberal with you, who, being young and qualified, when the things I have said please you, could, at the proper time, in favor of your Princes, aid and counsel them. I do not want you to be afraid or mistrustful of this, because this country appears to be born (to be destined) to resuscitate the things which are dead, as has been observed with Poetry, Painting, and Sculpture. But as for waiting for me, because of my years, do not rely on it. And, truly, if in the past fortune had conceded to me what would have sufficed for such an enterprise, I believe I would, in a very brief time, have shown the world how much the ancient institutions were of value, and, without doubt, I would have enlarged it with glory, or would have lost it without shame.

THE ORIGINAL ITALIAN TEXT, 1520

CONTENTS

PROEMIO

LIBRO PRIMO

LIBRO SECONDO

LIBRO TERZO

LIBRO QUARTO

LIBRO QUINTO

LIBRO SESTO

LIBRO SETTIMO

PROEMIO

A LORENZO DI FILIPPO STROZZI.

HANNO, Lorenzo, molti tenuto, e tengono questa opinione, che e’ non sia cosa alcuna che minore convenienza abbia con un’altra, nè che sia tanto dissimile, quanto la vita civile dalla militare. Donde si vede spesso, se alcuno disegna nello esercizio del soldo prevalersi, che subito, non solamente cangia abito, ma ancora ne’ costumi, nelle usanze, nella voce e nella presenza da ogni civile uso si disforma; perchè non crede potere vestire uno abito civile colui che vuole essere espedito e pronto a ogni violenza; nè i civili costumi e usanze puote avere quello il quale giudica e quegli costumi essere effeminati e quelle usanze non favorevoli alle sue operazioni; nè pare conveniente mantenere la presenza e le parole ordinarie a quello che con la barba e con le bestemmie vuole fare paura agli altri uomini, il che fa in questi tempi tale opinione essere verissima. Ma se si considerassino gli antichi ordini, non si troverebbono cose più unite più conformi e che, di necessità, tanto l’una amasse l’altra, quanto queste, perchè tutte l’arti che si ordinano in una civiltà per cagione del bene comune degli uomini, tutti gli ordini fatti in quella per vivere con timore delle leggi e d’Iddio, sarebbono vani, se non fussono preparate le difese loro; le quali, bene ordinate mantengono quegli, ancora che non bene ordinati. E così per il contrario i buoni ordini, senza il militare ajuto, non altrimenti si disordinano, che l’abitazioni d’uno superbo e regale palazzo, ancora che ornate di gemme e d’oro, quando, senza essere coperte, non avessino cosa che dalla pioggia le difendesse. E se in qualunque altro ordine delle cittadi e de’ regni si usava ogni diligenza per mantenere gli uomini fedeli, pacifici e pieni del timore d’Iddio nella milizia si raddoppiava; perchè in quale uomo debbe ricercare la patria maggiore fede, che in colui che le ha a promettere di morire per lei? In quale debbe essere più amore di pace, che in quello che solo dalla guerra puote essere offeso? In quale debbe essere più timore d’Iddio, che in colui che ogni dì, sottomettendosi a infiniti pericoli, ha più bisogno degli ajuti suoi? Questa necessità considerata bene, e da coloro che davano le leggi agli imperj, e da quegli che agli esercizi militari erano preposti, faceva che la vita de’ soldati dagli altri uomini era lodata e con ogni studio seguitata e imitata. Ma per essere gli ordini militari al tutto corrotti e, di gran lunga, dagli antichi modi separati, ne sono nate queste sinistre opinioni, che fanno odiare la milizia e fuggire la conversazione di coloro che la esercitano. E giudicando io, per quello che io ho veduto e letto, ch’e’ non sia impossibile ridurre quella negli antichi modi e renderle qualche forma della passata virtù, diliberai, per non passare questi mia oziosi tempi senza operare alcuna cosa, di scrivere, a sodisfazione di quegli che delle antiche azioni sono amatori, della arte della guerra quello che io ne intenda. E benchè sia cosa animosa trattare di quella materia della quale altri non ne abbia fatto professione, nondimeno io non credo sia errore occupare con le parole uno grado il quale molti, con maggiore prosunzione, con le opere hanno occupato; perchè gli errori che io facessi, scrivendo, possono essere senza danno d’alcuno corretti, ma quegli i quali da loro sono fatti, operando, non possono essere se non con la rovina degli imperj conosciuti. Voi pertanto, Lorenzo, considererete le qualità di queste mie fatiche e darete loro, con il vostro giudizio, quel biasimo o quella lode la quale vi parrà ch’elle abbiano meritato. Le quali a voi mando sì per dimostrarmi grato, ancora che la mia possibilità non vi aggiunga, de’ benefizi ho ricevuto da voi, sì ancora, perchè essendo consuetudine onorare di simili opere coloro i quali per nobiltà, ricchezze, ingegno e liberalità risplendono, conosco voi di ricchezze e nobiltà non avere molti pari, d’ingegno pochi, e di liberalità niuno.

LIBRO PRIMO

PERCHÈ io credo che si possa lodare dopo la morte ogni uomo, senza carico, sendo mancata ogni cagione e sospetto di adulazione, non dubiterò di lodare Cosimo Rucellai nostro, il nome del quale non fia mai ricordato da me senza lagrime, avendo conosciute in lui quelle parti le quali, in uno buono amico dagli amici, in uno cittadino dalla sua patria si possono disiderare. Perchè io non so quale cosa si fusse tanto sua, non eccettuando, non ch’altro, l’anima) che per gli amici volentieri da lui non fusse stata spesa; non so quale impresa lo avesse sbigottito, dove quello avesse conosciuto il bene della sua patria. Ed io confesso, liberamente, non avere riscontro, tra tanti uomini che io ho conosciuti e pratichi, uomo nel quale fusse il più acceso animo alle cose grandi e magnifiche. Nè si dolse con gli amici d’altro, nella sua morte, se non di essere nato per morire giovane dentro alle sue case e inonorato, senza avere potuto secondo l’animo suo giovare ad alcuno perchè sapeva che di lui non si poteva parlare altro, se non che fusse morto un buono amico. Non resta però per questo, che noi, e qualunque altro che come noi lo conosceva, non possiamo fare fede, poichè l’opere non appariscono, delle sue lodevoli qualità. Vero è che non gli fu però in tanto la fortuna nemica, che non lasciasse alcun breve ricordo della destrezza del suo ingegno, come ne dimostrano alcuni suoi scritti e composizioni di amorosi versi, ne’ quali, come che innamorato non fusse, per non consumare il tempo invano, tanto che a più alti pensieri la fortuna lo avesse condotto, nella sua giovanile età si esercitava. Dove chiaramente si può comprendere con quanta felicità i suoi concetti descrivesse, e quanto nella poetica si fusse onorato, se quella, per suo fine fusse da lui stata esercitata. Avendone pertanto privati la fortuna dello uso d’uno tanto amico, mi pare che non si possa farne altri rimedi che, il più che a noi è possibile cercare, di godersi la memoria di quello e repetere se da lui alcuna cosa fusse stata o acutamente detta o saviamente disputata. E perchè non è cosa di lui più fresca, che il ragionamento il quale ne’ prossimi tempi il signore Fabrizio Colonna dentro a’ suoi orti ebbe con seco, dove largamente fu da quel signore delle cose della guerra disputato, e acutamente e prudentemente in buona parte da Cosimo domandato,; mi è parso, essendo con alcuni altri nostri amici stato presente, ridurlo alla memoria, acciò che, leggendo quello, gli amici di Cosimo che quivi convennono, nel loro animo la memoria delle sue virtù rinfreschino, e gli altri, parte si dolgano di non vi essere intervenuti, parte molte cose utili alla vita non solamente militare, ma ancora civile, saviamente da uno sapientissimo uomo disputate, imparino.

Dico pertanto che, tornando Fabrizio Colonna di Lombardia, dove più tempo aveva per il Re cattolico con grande sua gloria militato, deliberò, passando per Firenze, riposarsi alcun giorno in quella città, per visitare l’Eccellenza del Duca e rivedere alcuni gentili uomini co’ quali per lo addietro aveva tenuto qualche familiarità. Donde che a Cosimo parve convitarlo ne’ suoi orti, non tanto per usare la sua liberalità quanto per avere cagione di parlar seco lungamente, e da quello intendere ed imparare varie cose, secondo che da un tale uomo si può sperare, parendogli avere occasione di spendere uno giorno in ragionare di quelle materie che allo animo suo sodisfacevano. Venne adunque Fabrizio, secondo che quello volle, e da Cosimo insieme con alcuni altri suoi fidati amici fu ricevuto, tra’ quali furono Zanobi Buondelmonti, Batista della Palla e Luigi Alamanni, giovani tutti amati da lui e de’ medesimi studi ardentissimi, le buone qualità de’ quali, perchè ogni giorno e ad ogni ora per se medesime si lodano, ommettereno. Fabrizio adunque fu, secondo i tempi e il luogo, di tutti quegli onori che si poterono maggiori onorato; ma passati i convivali piaceri e levate le tavole e consumato ogni ordine di festeggiare, il quale, nel conspetto degli uomini grandi e che a pensieri onorevoli abbiano la mente volta si consuma tosto, essendo il dì lungo e il caldo molto, giudicò Cosimo, per sodisfare meglio al suo disiderio, che fusse bene, pigliando l’occasione dal fuggire il caldo, condursi nella più segreta e ombrosa parte del suo giardino. Dove pervenuti e posti a sedere, chi sopra all’erba che in quel luogo è freschissima, chi sopra a sedili in quelle parti ordinati sotto l’ombra d’altissimi arbori, lodò Fabrizio il luogo come dilettevole; e considerando particolarmente gli arbori e alcuno di essi non ricognoscendo stava con l’animo sopeso. Della qual cosa accortosi Cosimo, disse: Voi per avventura non avete notizia di parte di questi arbori; ma non ve ne maravigliate, perchè ce ne sono alcuni più dagli antichi, che oggi dal comune uso celebrati. E dettogli il nome di essi, e come Bernardo suo avolo in tale cultura si era affaticato, replicò Fabrizio: Io pensava che fusse quello che voi dite e questo luogo e questo studio mi faceva ricordare d’alcuni principi del Regno, i quali di queste antiche culture e ombre si dilettano. E fermato in su questo il parlare e stato alquanto sopra di se come sospeso, soggiunse: Se io non credessi offendere, io ne direi la mia opinione; ma io non lo credo fare, parlando con gli amici, e per disputare le cose e non per calunniarle. Quanto meglio avrebbono fatto quelli, sia detto con pace di tutti, a cercare di somigliare gli antichi nelle cose forti e aspre, non nelle delicate e molli, e in quelle che facevano sotto il sole, non sotto l’ombra, e pigliare i modi della antichità vera e perfetta, non quelli della falsa e corrotta; perchè, poichè questi studi piacquero ai miei Romani, la mia patria rovinò. A che Cosimo rispose: ma per fuggire il fastidio d’avere a ripigliare tante volte quel disse, e quello altro soggiunse, si noteranno solamente i nomi di chi parli, senza replicarne altro. Disse dunque.

Cosimo. Voi avete aperto la via a uno ragionamento quale io desiderava, e vi priego che voi parliate senza rispetto, perchè io senza rispetto vi domanderò; e se io, domandando o replicando, scuserò o accuserò alcuno, non sarà per scusare o per accusare, ma per intendere da voi la verità.

Fabrizio. Ed io sarò molto contento di dirvi quel che io intenderò di tutto quello mi domanderete; il che se sarà vero o no, me ne rapporterò al vostro giudicio. E mi sarà grato mi domandiate; perchè io sono per imparare così da voi nel domandarmi, come voi da me nel rispondervi; perchè molte volte uno savio domandatore fa a uno considerare molte cose e conoscerne molte altre, le quali, senza esserne domandato, non avrebbe mai conosciute.

Cosimo. Io voglio tornare a quello che voi diceste prima: che l’avolo mio e quegli vostri avrebbero fatto più saviamente a somigliar gli antichi nelle cose aspre che nelle delicate; e voglio scusare la parte mia, perchè l’altra lascerò scusare a voi. Io non credo ch’egli fusse, ne’ tempi suoi, uomo che tanto detestasse il vivere molle quanto egli, e che tanto fusse amatore di quella asprezza di vita che voi lodate; nondimeno e’ conosceva non potere nella persona sua, nè in quella de’ suoi figliuoli, usarla, essendo nato in tanta corruttela di secolo, dove uno che si volesse partire dal comune uso, sarebbe infame e vilipeso da ciascheduno. Perchè se uno ignudo, di state, sotto il più alto sole si rivoltasse sopr’alla rena, o di verno ne’ più gelati mesi sopra alla neve, come faceva Diogene, sarebbe tenuto pazzo. Se uno, come gli Spartani, nutrisse i suoi figliuoli in villa, facessegli dormire al sereno, andare col capo e co’ piedi ignudi, lavare nell’acqua fredda per indurgli a poter sopportare il male e per fare loro amare meno la vita e temere meno la morte, sarebbe schernito e tenuto piuttosto una fiera che uno uomo. Se fusse ancora veduto uno nutrirsi di legumi e spregiare l’oro, come Fabrizio, sarebbe lodato da pochi e seguito da niuno. Tal che, sbigottito da questi modi del vivere presente, egli lasciò gli antichi, e in quello che potè con minore ammirazione imitare l’antichità, lo fece.

Fabrizio. Voi lo avete scusato in questa parte gagliardamente, e certo voi dite il vero; ma io non parlava tanto di questi modi di vivere duri, quanto di altri modi più umani e che hanno con la vita d’oggi maggiore conformità; i quali io non credo che ad uno che sia numerato tra’ principi d’una città, fusse stato difficile introdurgli. Io non mi partirò mai, con lo esemplo di qualunque cosa, da’ miei Romani. Se si considerasse la vita di quegli e l’ordine di quella repubblica, si vedrebbero molte cose in essa non impossibili ad introdurre in una civilità dove fusse qualche cosa ancora del buono.

Cosimo. Quali cose sono quelle che voi vorreste introdurre simili all’antiche?

Fabrizio. Onorare e premiare le virtù, non dispregiare la povertà, stimare i modi e gli ordini della disciplina militare, constringere i cittadini ad amare l’uno l’altro, a vivere senza sette, a stimare meno il privato che il pubblico, e altre simili cose che facilmente si potrebbono con questi tempi accompagnare. I quali modi non sono difficili persuadere, quando vi si pensa assai ed entrasi per li debiti mezzi, perchè in essi appare tanto la verità, che ogni comunale ingegno ne puote essere capace; la quale cosa chi ordina, planta arbori sotto l’ombra de’ quali si dimora più felice e più lieto che sotto questa.

Cosimo. Io non voglio replicare, a quello che voi avete detto, alcuna cosa, ma ne voglio lasciare dare giudicio a questi, i quali facilmente ne possono giudicare; e volgerò il mio parlare a voi, che siete accusatore di coloro che nelle gravi e grandi azioni non sono degli antichi imitatori, pensando, per questa via, più facilmente essere nella mia intenzione sodisfatto. Vorrei pertanto sapere da voi, donde nasce che dall’un canto voi danniate quegli che nelle azioni loro gli antichi non somigliano; dall’altro, nella guerra, la quale è l’arte vostra e in quella che voi siete giudicato eccellente, non si vede che voi abbiate usato alcuno termine antico, o che a quegli alcuna similitudine renda.

Fabrizio. Voi siete capitato appunto dove io vi aspettava, perchè il parlare mio non meritava altra domanda, nè io altra ne desiderava. E benchè io mi potessi salvare con una facile scusa, nondimeno voglio entrare, a più sodisfazione mia e vostra, poichè la stagione lo comporta, in più lungo ragionamento. Gli uomini che vogliono fare una cosa, deono prima con ogni industria prepararsi, per essere, venendo l’occasione, apparecchiati a sodisfare a quello che si hanno presupposto di operare. E perchè, quando le preparazioni sono fatte cautamente elle non si conoscono, non si può accusare alcuno d’alcuna negligenza, se prima non è scoperto dalla occasione; nella quale poi, non operando, si vede o che non si è preparato tanto che basti, o che non vi ha in alcuna parte pensato. E perchè a me non è venuta occasione alcuna di potere mostrare i preparamenti da me fatti per potere ridurre la milizia negli antichi suoi ordini, se io non la ho ridotta, non ne posso essere da voi nè da altri incolpato. Io credo che questa scusa basterebbe per risposta all’accusa vostra.

Cosimo. Basterebbe, quando io fussi certo che l’occasione non fusse venuta.

Fabrizio. Ma perchè io so che voi potete dubitare se questa occasione è venuta o no, voglio io largamente, quando voi vogliate con pazienza ascoltarmi discorrere quali preparamenti sono necessarii prima fare, quale occasione bisogna nasca, quale difficultà impedisce che i preparamenti non giovano e che l’occasione non venga; e come questa cosa a un tratto, che paiono termini contrarii, è difficilissima e facilissima a fare.

Cosimo. Voi non potete fare, e a me e a questi altri, cosa più grata di questa; e se a voi non rincrescerà il parlare, mai a noi non rincrescerà l’udire. Ma perchè questo ragionamento debbe esser lungo, io voglio aiuto da questi miei amici con licenza vostra; e loro ed io vi preghiamo d’una cosa che voi non pigliate fastidio se qualche volta, con qualche domanda importuna, vi interromperemo.

Fabrizio. Io sono contentissimo che voi, Cosimo, con questi altri giovani qui mi domandiate, perchè io credo che la gioventù vi faccia più amici delle cose militari e più facili a credere quello che da me si dirà. Questi altri, per aver già il capo bianco e avere i sangui ghiacciati addosso, parte sogliono essere nimici della guerra, parte incorreggibili, come quegli che credono che i tempi e non i cattivi modi costringano gli uomini a vivere così. Sì che domandatemi tutti voi sicuramente e senza rispetto; il che io disidero, sì perchè mi fia un poco di riposo, sì perchè io arò piacere non lasciare nella mente vostra alcuna dubitazione. Io mi voglio cominciare dalle parole vostre, dove voi mi diceste che nella guerra, che è l’arte mia, io non aveva usato alcun termine antico. Sopra a che dico come, essendo questa una arte mediante la quale gli uomini d’ogni tempo non possono vivere onestamente, non la può usare per arte se non una repubblica o uno regno; e l’uno e l’altro di questi, quando sia bene ordinato, mai non consentì ad alcuno suo cittadino o suddito usarla per arte; nè mai alcuno uomo buono l’esercitò per sua particulare arte. Perchè buono non sarà mai giudicato colui che faccia uno esercizio che, a volere d’ogni tempo trarne utilità, gli convenga essere rapace, fraudolento, violento e avere molte qualitadi le quali di necessità lo facciano non buono; nè possono gli uomini che l’usano per arte, così i grandi come i minimi, essere fatti altrimenti, perchè questa arte non gli nutrisce nella pace; donde che sono necessitati o pensare che non sia pace, o tanto prevalersi ne’ tempi della guerra, che possano nella pace nutrirsi. E qualunque l’uno di questi due pensieri non cape in uno uomo buono; perchè dal volersi potere nutrire d’ogni tempo, nascono le ruberie, le violenze, gli assassinamenti che tali soldati fanno così agli amici come a’ nimici; e dal non volere la pace nascono gli inganni che i capitani fanno a quegli che gli conducono, perchè la guerra duri; e se pure la pace viene, spesso occorre che i capi, sendo privi degli stipendi e del vivere, licenziosamente rizzano una bandiera di ventura e senza alcuna piatà saccheggiano una provincia. Non avete voi nella memoria delle cose vostre come, trovandosi assai soldati in Italia senza soldo per essere finite le guerre, si ragunarono insieme più brigate, le quali si chiamarono Compagnie, e andavano taglieggiando le terre e saccheggiando il paese, senza che vi si potesse fare alcuno rimedio? Non avete voi letto che i soldati cartaginesi, finita la prima guerra ch’egli ebbero co’ Romani, sotto Mato e Spendio, due capi fatti tumultuariamente da loro, ferono più pericolosa guerra a’ Cartaginesi che quella che loro avevano finita co’ Romani? Ne’ tempi de’ padri nostri, Francesco Sforza, per potere vivere onorevolmente ne’ tempi della pace, non solamente ingannò i Milanesi de’ quali era soldato, ma tolse loro la libertà e divenne loro principe. Simili a costui sono stati tutti gli altri soldati di Italia, che hanno usata la milizia per loro particolare arte; e se non sono, mediante le loro malignitadi, diventati Duchi di Milano, tanto più meritano di essere biasimati, perchè senza tanto utile hanno tutti, se si vedesse la vita loro, i medesimi carichi. Sforza, padre di Francesco, costrinse la reina Giovanna a gittarsi nelle braccia del Re di Ragona, avendola in un subito abbandonata e in mezzo a’ suoi nimici lasciatala disarmata, solo per sfogare l’ambizione sua o di taglieggiarla o di torle il regno. Braccio, con le medesime industrie, cercò di occupare il regno di Napoli, e se non era rotto e morto a l’Aquila, gli riusciva. Simili disordini non nascono da altro che da essere stati uomini che usavano lo esercizio del soldo per loro propria arte. Non avete voi uno proverbio il quale fortifica le mie ragioni, che dice: «La guerra fa i ladri, e la pace gl’impicca?». Perchè quegli che non sanno vivere d’altro esercizio, e in quello non trovando chi gli sovvenga e non avendo tanta virtù che sappiano ridursi insieme a fare una cattività onorevole, sono forzati dalla necessità rompere la strada, e la giustizia è forzata spegnerli.

Cosimo. Voi m’avete fatto tornare questa arte del soldo quasi che nulla, ed io me la aveva presupposta la più eccellente e la più onorevole che si facesse; in modo che, se voi non me la dichiarate meglio, io non resto sodisfatto, perchè, quando sia quello che voi dite, io non so donde si nasca la gloria di Cesare, di Pompeo, di Scipione, di Marcello, e di tanti capitani romani che sono per fama celebrati come dii.

Fabrizio. Io non ho ancora finito di disputare tutto quello che io proposi, che furono due cose: l’una, che uno uomo buono non poteva usare questo esercizio per sua arte; l’altra, che una repubblica o uno regno bene ordinato non permesse mai che i suoi suggetti o i suoi cittadini la usassono per arte. Circa la prima ho parlato quanto mi è occorso, restami a parlare della seconda, dove io verrò a rispondere a questa ultima domanda vostra, e dico che Pompeo e Cesare, e quasi tutti quegli capitani che furono a Roma dopo l’ultima guerra cartaginese, acquistarono fama come valenti uomini, non come buoni; e quegli che erano vivuti avanti a loro, acquistarono gloria come valenti e buoni. Il che nacque perchè questi non presero lo esercizio della guerra per loro arte, e quegli che io nominai prima, come loro arte la usarono. E in mentre che la repubblica visse immaculata, mai alcuno cittadino grande non presunse, mediante tale esercizio, valersi nella pace, rompendo le leggi, spogliando le provincie, usurpando e tiranneggiando la patria e in ogni modo prevalendosi; nè alcuno d’infima fortuna pensò di violare il sacramento, aderirsi agli uomini privati, non temere il senato, o seguire alcuno tirannico insulto per potere vivere, con l’arte della guerra, d’ogni tempo. Ma quegli che erano capitani, contenti del trionfo, con disiderio tornavono alla vita privata; e quelli che erano membri, con maggior voglia deponevano le armi che non le pigliavano; e ciascuno tornava all’arte sua mediante la quale si aveva ordinata la vita; nè vi fu mai alcuno che sperasse con le prede e con questa arte potersi nutrire. Di questo se ne può fare, quanto a’ cittadini grandi, evidente coniettura mediante Regolo Attilio, il quale, sendo capitano degli eserciti romani in Affrica e avendo quasi che vinti i Cartaginesi, domandò al senato licenza di ritornarsi a casa a custodire i suoi poderi che gli erano guasti dai suoi lavoratori. Donde è più chiaro che il sole, che, se quello avesse usata la guerra come sua arte e, mediante quella, avesse pensato farsi utile, avendo in preda tante provincie, non avrebbe domandato licenza per tornare a custodire i suoi campi; perchè ciascuno giorno avrebbe molto più, che non era il prezzo di tutti quegli, acquistato. Ma perchè questi uomini buoni, e che non usano la guerra per loro arte, non vogliono trarre di quella se non fatica, pericoli e gloria, quando e’ sono a sufficienza gloriosi disiderano tornarsi a casa e vivere dell’arte loro. Quanto agli uomini bassi e soldati gregarii, che sia vero che tenessono il medesimo ordine apparisce, che ciascuno volentieri si discostava da tale esercizio e, quando non militava, avrebbe voluto militare e, quando militava, avrebbe voluto essere licenziato. Il che si riscontra per molti modi, e massime vedendo come, tra’ primi privilegi che dava il popolo romano a un suo cittadino, era che non fusse constretto fuora di sua volontà a militare. Roma pertanto, mentre ch’ella fu bene ordinata, che fu infino a’ Gracchi, non ebbe alcuno soldato che pigliasse questo esercizio per arte; e però ne ebbe pochi cattivi, e quelli tanti furono severamente puniti. Debbe adunque una città bene ordinata volere che questo studio di guerra si usi ne’ tempi di pace per esercizio e ne’ tempi di guerra per necessità e gloria; ed al pubblico solo lasciarla usare per arte, come fece Roma. E qualunque cittadino che ha in tale esercizio altro fine, non è buono; e qualunque città si governa altrimenti, non è bene ordinata.

Cosimo. Io resto contento assai e sodisfatto di quello che insino a qui avete detto, e piacemi assai questa conclusione che voi avete fatta; e quanto si aspetta alla repubblica, io credo ch’ella sia vera; ma quanto ai re, non so già, perchè io crederrei che uno Re volesse avere intorno chi particolarmente prendesse, per arte sua, tale esercizio.

Fabrizio. Tantopiù debbe uno regno bene ordinato fuggire simili artefici, perchè solo essi sono la corruttela del suo Re e, in tutto, ministri della tirannide. E non mi allegate all’incontro alcuno regno presente, perchè io vi negherò quelli essere regni bene ordinati. Perchè i regni che hanno buoni ordini, non danno lo imperio assoluto agli loro Re se non nelli eserciti; perchè in questo luogo solo è necessaria una subita deliberazione e, per questo, che vi sia una unica podestà. Nell’altre cose non può fare alcuna cosa senza consiglio; e hanno a temere, quegli che lo consigliano, che gli abbi alcuno appresso che ne’ tempi di pace disideri la guerra, per non potere senza essa vivere. Ma io voglio in questo essere un poco più largo, nè ricercare uno regno al tutto buono, ma simile a quegli che sono oggi; dove ancora da’ Re deono esser temuti quegli che prendono per loro arte la guerra, perchè il nervo degli eserciti, senza alcun dubbio, sono le fanterie. Tal che, se uno Re non si ordina in modo che i suoi fanti a tempo di pace stieno contenti tornarsi a casa e vivere delle loro arti, conviene di necessità che rovini; perchè non si truova la più pericolosa fanteria che quella che è composta di coloro che fanno la guerra come per loro arte, perchè tu sei forzato o a fare sempre mai guerra, o a pagarli sempre, o a portare pericolo che non ti tolgano il regno. Fare guerra sempre non è possibile; pagargli sempre non si può; ecco che di necessità si corre ne’ pericoli di perdere lo stato. I miei Romani, come ho detto, mentre che furono savi e buoni, mai non permessero che i loro cittadini pigliassono questo esercizio per loro arte, non ostante che potessono nutrirgli d’ogni tempo, perchè d’ogni tempo fecero guerra. Ma per fuggire quel danno che poteva fare loro questo continuo esercizio, poichè il tempo non variava, ei variavano gli uomini, e andavano temporeggiando in modo con le loro legioni, che in quindici anni sempre l’avevano rinnovate; e così si valevano degli uomini nel fiore della loro età, che è da diciotto a’ trentacinque anni, nel qual tempo le gambe, le mani e l’occhio rispondevano l’uno all’altro; nè aspettavano che in loro scemasse le forze e crescesse la malizia, com’ella fece poi ne’ tempi corrotti. Perchè Ottaviano, prima, e poi Tiberio, pensando più alla potenza propria che all’utile pubblico, cominciarono a disarmare il popolo romano per poterlo più facilmente comandare, e a tenere continuamente quegli medesimi eserciti alle frontiere dello Imperio. E perchè ancora non giudicarono bastassero a tenere in freno il popolo e senato romano, ordinarono uno esercito chiamato Pretoriano, il quale stava propinquo alle mura di Roma ed era come una rocca addosso a quella città. E perchè allora ei cominciarono liberamente a permettere che gli uomini deputati in quelli eserciti usassero la milizia per loro arte, ne nacque subito la insolenza di quegli, e diventarono formidabili al senato e dannosi allo imperadore; donde ne risultò che molti ne furono morti dalla insolenza loro, perchè davano e toglievano l’imperio a chi pareva loro; e talvolta occorse che in uno medesimo tempo erano molti imperadori creati da varii eserciti. Dalle quali cose procedè, prima, la divisione dello Imperio e, in ultimo, la rovina di quello. Deggiono pertanto i re, se vogliono vivere sicuri, avere le loro fanterie composte di uomini che, quando egli è tempo di fare guerra, volentieri per suo amore vadano a quella, e, quando viene poi la pace, più volentieri se ne ritornino a casa. Il che sempre fia, quando egli scerrà uomini che sappiano vivere d’altra arte che di questa. E così debbe volere, venuta la pace, che i suoi principi tornino a governare i loro popoli, i gentili uomini al culto delle loro possessioni, e i fanti alla loro particolare arte: e ciascuno d’essi faccia volentieri la guerra per avere pace, e non cerchi turbare la pace per avere guerra.

Cosimo. Veramente questo vostro ragionamento mi pare bene considerato; nondimeno, sendo quasi che contrario a quello che io insino a ora ne ho pensato, non mi resta ancora l’animo purgato d’ogni dubbio; perchè io veggo assai signori e gentili uomini nutrirsi a tempo di pace mediante gli studii della guerra, come sono i pari vostri che hanno provvisioni dai principi e dalle comunità. Veggo ancora quasi tutti gli uomini d’arme rimanere con le provvisioni loro; veggo assai fanti restare nelle guardie delle città e delle fortezze, tale che mi pare che ci sia luogo, a tempo di pace, per ciascuno.

Fabrizio. Io non credo che voi crediate questo, che a tempo di pace ciascheduno abbia luogo; perchè, posto che non se ne potesse addurre altra ragione, il poco numero che fanno tutti coloro che rimangono ne’ luoghi allegati da voi, vi risponderebbe: che proporzione hanno le fanterie che bisognano nella guerra, con quelle che nella pace si adoperano? Perchè le fortezze e le città che si guardano a tempo di pace, nella guerra si guardano molto più; a che si aggiungono i soldati che si tengono in campagna, che sono un numero grande, i quali tutti nella pace si abbandonano. E circa le guardie degli stati, che sono uno piccolo numero, papa Iulio e voi avete mostro a ciascuno quanto sia da temere quegli che non vogliono sapere fare altra arte che la guerra; e gli avete per la insolenza loro privi delle vostre guardie e postovi Svizzeri, come nati e allevati sotto le leggi e eletti dalle comunità, secondo la vera elezione; sì che non dite più che nella pace sia luogo per ogni uomo. Quanto alle genti d’arme rimanendo quelle nella pace tutte con li loro soldi, pare questa soluzione più difficile; nondimeno, chi considera bene tutto, truova la risposta facile, perchè questo modo del tenere le genti d’arme è modo corrotto e non buono. La cagione è perchè sono uomini che ne fanno arte, e da loro nascerebbe ogni dì mille inconvenienti nelli stati dove ei fussono, se fussero accompagnati da compagnia sufficiente, ma sendo pochi e non potendo per loro medesimi fare un esercito, non possono fare così spesso danni gravi. Nondimeno ne hanno fatti assai volte, come io vi dissi di Francesco e di Sforza, suo padre e di Braccio da Perugia. Sì che questa usanza di tenere le genti d’arme, io non la appruovo, ed è corrotta e può fare inconvenienti grandi.

Cosimo. Vorreste voi fare senza? o, tenendone, come le vorreste tenere?

Fabrizio. Per via d’ordinanza; non simile a quella del Re di Francia, perch’ella è pericolosa ed insolente come la nostra, ma simile a quelle degli antichi; i quali creavano la cavalleria di sudditi loro, e ne’ tempi di pace gli mandavano alle case loro a vivere delle loro arti, come più largamente, prima finisca questo ragionamento, disputerò. Sì che, se ora questa parte di esercito può vivere in tale esercizio, ancora quando sia pace, nasce dall’ordine corrotto. Quanto alle provvisioni che si riserbano a me e agli altri capi, vi dico che questo medesimamente è uno ordine corrottissimo; perchè una savia repubblica non le debbe dare ad alcuno; anzi debbe operare per capi, nella guerra, i suoi cittadini e, a tempo di pace, volere che ritornino all’arte loro. Così ancora uno savio Re o e’ non le debbe dare o, dandole, debbono essere le cagioni: o per premio d’alcuno egregio fatto, o per volersi valere di un uomo così nella pace come nella guerra. E perchè voi allegaste me, io voglio esemplificare sopra di me; e dico non aver mai usata la guerra per arte, perchè l’arte mia è governare i miei sudditi e defendergli, e per potergli defendere, amare la pace e saper fare la guerra. Ed il mio Re non tanto mi premia e stima per intendermi io della guerra, quanto per sapere io ancora consigliarlo nella pace. Non debbe adunque alcuno Re volere appresso di se alcuno, che non sia così fatto s’egli è savio e prudentemente si voglia governare; perchè, s’egli arà intorno, o troppi amatori della pace, o troppi amatori della guerra, lo faranno errare. Io non vi posso, in questo mio primo ragionamento e secondo le proposte mie, dire altro; e quando questo non vi basti, conviene cerchiate di chi vi sodisfaccia meglio. Potete bene avere cominciato a conoscere quanta difficultà sia ridurre i modi antichi nelle presenti guerre, e quali preparazioni ad uno uomo savio conviene fare, e quali occasioni si possa sperare a poterle esequire; ma voi di mano in mano conoscerete queste cose meglio, quando non vi infastidisca il ragionamento, conferendo qualunque parte degli antichi ordini ai modi presenti.

Cosimo. Se noi desideravamo prima di udirvi ragionare di queste cose, veramente quello che infino ad ora ne avete detto, ne ha raddoppiato il disiderio; pertanto noi vi ringraziamo di quel che noi avemo avuto, e il restante vi domandiamo.

Fabrizio. Poichè così vi è in piacere, io voglio cominciare a trattare questa materia da principio, acciò meglio s’intenda, potendosi per quel modo più largamente dimostrare. Il fine di chi vuole fare guerra è potere combattere con ogni nimico alla campagna e potere vincere una giornata. A volere far questo, conviene ordinare uno esercito. A ordinare lo esercito, bisogna trovare gli uomini, armargli, ordinargli, e ne’ piccoli e ne’ grossi ordini esercitargli, alloggiargli, e al nimico dipoi, o stando o camminando, rappresentargli. In queste cose consiste tutta la industria della guerra campale, che è la più necessaria e la più onorata. E chi sa bene presentare al nimico una giornata, gli altri errori che facesse ne’ maneggi della guerra sarebbono sopportabili; ma chi manca di questa disciplina, ancora che negli altri particolari valesse assai, non condurrà mai una guerra a onore; perchè una giornata che tu vinca, cancella ogni altra tua mala azione; così medesimamente, perdendola, restono vane tutte le cose bene da te avanti operate. Sendo pertanto necessario prima trovare gli uomini, conviene venire al Deletto di essi, chè così lo chiamavano gli antichi; il che noi diremmo scelta, ma, per chiamarlo per nome più onorato, io voglio gli serviamo il nome del Deletto. Vogliono coloro che alla guerra hanno dato regole, che si eleggano gli uomini de’ paesi temperati, acciò ch’egli abbino animo e prudenza; perchè il paese caldo gli genera prudenti e non animosi, il freddo animosi e non prudenti. Questa regola è bene data a uno che sia principe di tutto il mondo e, per questo, gli sia lecito trarre gli uomini di quegli luoghi che a lui verrà bene; ma volendo darne una regola che ciascun possa usarla, conviene dire che ogni repubblica e ogni regno debbe scerre i soldati de’ paesi suoi, o caldi o freddi o temperati che si sieno. Per che si vede, per gli antichi esempli, come in ogni paese con lo esercizio si fa buoni soldati; perchè, dove manca la natura, sopperisce la ‘ndustria, la quale in questo caso vale più che la natura. Ed eleggendogli in altri luoghi, non si può chiamare Deletto, perchè Deletto vuol dire torre i migliori d’una provincia e avere potestà di eleggere quegli che non vogliono, come quegli che vogliono, militare. Non si può pertanto fare questo Deletto se non ne’ luoghi a te sottoposti, perchè tu non puoi torre chi tu vuoi ne’ paesi che non sono tuoi, ma ti bisogna prendere quelli che vogliono.

Cosimo. E’ si può pure di quelli che voglion venire, torne e lasciarne; e per questo si può chiamare Deletto.

Fabrizio. Voi dite il vero in uno certo modo; ma considerate i difetti che ha tale Deletto in se, perchè ancora molte volte occorre che non è Deletto. La prima cosa: quegli che non sono tuoi sudditi e che voluntarii militano, non sono de’ migliori, anzi sono de’ più cattivi d’una provincia; perchè se alcuni vi sono scandolosi, oziosi, senza freno, senza religione, fuggitisi dallo imperio del padre, bestemmiatori, giucatori, in ogni parte male nutriti, sono quegli che vogliono militare; i quali costumi non possono essere più contrarii a una vera e buona milizia. Quando di tali uomini ti se ne offerisce tanti che te ne avanzi al numero che tu hai disegnato, tu puoi eleggergli; ma, sendo la materia cattiva, non è possibile che il Deletto sia buono. Ma molte volte interviene che non sono tanti ch’egli adempino il numero di che tu hai bisogno; tal che, sendo forzato prendergli tutti, ne nasce che non si può chiamare più fare Deletto ma soldare fanti. Con questo disordine si fanno oggi gli eserciti in Italia e altrove eccetto che nella Magna, perchè non si solda alcuno per comandamento del principe, ma secondo la volontà di chi vuole militare. Pensate adunque ora voi che modi di quegli antichi eserciti si possano introdurre in uno esercito di uomini messi insieme per simile via.

Cosimo. Quale via si avrebbe a tenere adunque?

Fabrizio. Quella che io dissi: scergli di suoi suggetti e con l’autorità del principe.

Cosimo. Negli scelti così introdurrebbesi alcuna antica forma?

Fabrizio. Ben sapete che sì, quando chi li comandasse fusse loro principe o signore ordinario, quando fusse principato, o come cittadino e, per quel tempo, capitano, sendo una repubblica; altrimenti è difficile fare cosa di buono.

Cosimo. Perchè?

Fabrizio. Io vel dirò al tempo; per ora voglio vi basti questo: che non si può operare bene per altra via.

Cosimo. Avendosi adunque a far questo Deletto ne’ suoi paesi, donde giudicate voi sia meglio trarli, o della città o del contado?

Fabrizio. Questi che ne hanno scritto, tutti s’accordano che sia meglio eleggergli del contado, sendo uomini avvezzi a’ disagi, nutriti nelle fatiche, consueti stare al sole, fuggire l’ombra, sapere adoperare il ferro, cavare una fossa, portare un peso, ed essere senza astuzia e senza malizia. Ma in questa parte l’opinione mia sarebbe che, sendo di due ragioni soldati, a piè e a cavallo, che si eleggessero quegli a piè del contado e gli a cavallo delle cittadi.

Cosimo. Di quale età gli torreste voi?

Fabrizio. Torreigli, quando io avessi a fare nuova milizia, da diciassette a quaranta anni; quando la fusse fatta ed io l’avessi a instaurare, di diciassette, sempre.

Cosimo. Io non intendo bene questa distinzione.

Fabrizio. Dirovvi. Quando io avessi a ordinare una milizia dov’ella non fusse, sarebbe necessario eleggere tutti quegli uomini che fussero più atti, pure che fussero di età militare, per potergli instruire, come per me si dirà; ma quando io avessi a fare il Deletto ne’ luoghi dove fusse ordinata questa milizia, per supplimento di essa gli torrei di diciassette anni, perchè gli altri di più tempo sarebbono scelti e descritti.

Cosimo. Dunque vorreste voi fare una ordinanza simile a quella che è ne’ paesi nostri.

Fabrizio. Voi dite bene. Vero è che io gli armerei, capitanerei, eserciterei e ordinerei in un modo, che io non so se voi gli avete ordinati così.

Cosimo. Dunque lodate voi l’ordinanza?

Fabrizio. Perchè, volete voi che io la danni?

Cosimo. Perchè molti savi uomini l’hanno sempre biasimata.

Fabrizio. Voi dite una cosa contraria a dire che un savio biasimi l’ordinanza, ei può bene essere tenuto savio ed essergli fatto torto.

Cosimo. La cattiva pruova ch’ella ha fatto sempre, farà avere per noi tale opinione.

Fabrizio. Guardate che non sia il difetto vostro, non il suo, il che voi conoscerete prima che si fornisca questo ragionamento.

Cosimo. Voi ne farete cosa gratissima; pure io vi voglio dire in quello che costoro l’accusano, acciò voi possiate meglio giustificarne. Dicono costoro così: o ella fia inutile e fidandoci noi di quella ci farà perdere lo stato; o ella fia virtuosa, e, mediante quella, chi la governa ce lo potrà facilmente torre. Allegano i Romani, i quali, mediante queste armi proprie, perderono la libertà; allegano i Viniziani e il Re di Francia, de’ quali quelli, per non avere ad ubbidire a un loro cittadino, usano le armi d’altri, e il Re ha disarmati i suoi popoli per potergli più facilmente comandare. Ma temono più assai la inutilità che questo. Della quale inutilità ne allegano due ragioni principali: una, per essere inesperti, l’altra, per avere a militare per forza; perchè dicano che da grande non si imparano le cose, e a forza non si fece mai nulla bene.

Fabrizio. Tutte queste ragioni che voi dite, sono da uomini che cognoschino le cose poco discosto, come io apertamente vi mostrerrò. E prima, quanto alla inutilità, io vi dico che non si usa milizia più utile che la propria, nè si può ordinare milizia propria se non in questo modo. E perchè questo non ha disputa, io non ci voglio molto perdere tempo, perchè tutti gli esempj delle istorie antiche fanno per noi. E perchè eglino allegano la inesperienza e la forza, dico come egli è vero che la inesperienza fa poco animo e la forza fa mala contentezza; ma l’animo e l’esperienza si fa guadagnare loro con il modo dello armargli, esercitargli ed ordinargli, come nel procedere di questo ragionamento vedrete. Ma, quanto alla forza, voi avete a intendere che gli uomini che si conducono alla milizia per comandamento del principe, vi hanno a venire nè al tutto forzati, nè al tutto volontarii, perchè tutta la volontà farebbe gli inconvenienti che io dissi di sopra: che non sarebbe Deletto e sarebbono pochi quegli che andassero; e così la tutta forza partorirebbe cattivi effetti. Però si debbe prendere una via di mezzo dove non sia nè tutta forza nè tutta volontà, ma sieno tirati da uno rispetto ch’egli abbiano al principe, dove essi temano più lo sdegno di quello, che la presente pena; e sempre occorrerà ch’ella fia una forza in modo mescolata con la volontà, che non ne potrà nascere tale mala contentezza che faccia mali effetti. Non dico già, per questo, ch’ella non possa essere vinta, perchè furono vinti tante volte gli eserciti romani, e fu vinto lo esercito d’Annibale; tale che si vede che non si può ordinare uno esercito, del quale altri si prometta che non possa essere rotto. Pertanto questi vostri uomini savi non deono misurare questa inutilità dallo avere perduto una volta, ma credere che, così come e’ si perde, e’ si possa vincere e rimediare alla cagione della perdita. E quando ei cercassero questo, troverebbono che non sarebbe stato per difetto del modo, ma dell’ordine che non aveva la sua perfezione; e, come ho detto, dovevano provvedervi, non con biasimare l’ordinanza, ma con ricorreggerla; il che come si debbe fare, lo intenderete di mano in mano. Quanto al dubitare che tale ordine non ti tolga lo stato mediante uno che se ne faccia capo, rispondo che l’arme in dosso a’ suoi cittadini o sudditi, date dalle leggi e dall’ordine, non fecero mai danno, anzi sempre fanno utile e mantengonsi le città più tempo immaculate mediante queste armi, che senza. Stette Roma libera quattrocento anni, ed era armata; Sparta, ottocento; molte altre città sono state disarmate, e sono state libere meno di quaranta. Perchè le città hanno bisogno delle armi; e quando non hanno armi proprie, soldano delle forestiere; e più presto noceranno al bene pubblico l’armi forestiere, che le proprie, perchè le sono più facili a corrompersi e più tosto uno cittadino che diventi potente se ne può valere; e parte ha più facile materia a maneggiare, avendo ad opprimere uomini disarmati. Oltre a questo una città debbe più temere due nimici che uno. Quella che si vale dell’armi forestiere, teme ad uno tratto il forestiero ch’ella solda e il cittadino; e che questo timore debba essere, ricordivi di quello che io dissi poco fa di Francesco Sforza. Quella che usa l’arme proprie, non teme se non il suo cittadino. Ma per tutte le ragioni che si potessono dire, voglio mi serva questa: che mai alcuno ordinò alcuna repubblica o regno, che non pensasse che quegli medesimi che abitavano quella, con le armi l’avessono a difendere. E se i Viniziani fussero stati savi in questo come in tutti gli altri loro ordini, eglino avrebbono fatto una nuova monarchia nel mondo. I quali tanto più meritano biasimo, sendo stati dai loro primi datori di legge, armati. Ma non avendo dominio in terra, erano armati in mare, dove ferono le loro guerre virtuosamente e, con l’armi in mano, accrebbero la loro patria. Ma venendo tempo ch’eglino ebbero a fare guerra in terra per difendere Vicenza, dove essi dovevano mandare uno loro cittadino a combattere in terra, ci soldarono per loro capitano il marchese di Mantova. Questo fu quel partito sinistro che tagliò loro le gambe del salire in cielo e dello ampliare. E se lo fecero per credere che, come che ei sapessono far guerra in mare, ei si diffidassono farla in terra, ella fu una diffidenza non savia; perchè più facilmente un capitanodi mare, che è uso a combattere con i venti, con l’acque e con gli uomini, diventerà capitano di terra, dove si combatte con gli uomini solo, che uno di terra non diventerà di mare. E i miei Romani, sapendo combattere in terra e non in mare, venendo a guerra con i Cartaginesi che erano potenti in mare, non soldarono Greci o Spagnuoli consueti in mare, ma imposero quella cura a’ loro cittadini che mandavano in terra, e vinsero. Se lo ferono perchè uno loro cittadino non diventasse tiranno, ei fu uno timore poco considerato; perchè, oltre a quelle ragioni che a questo proposito poco fa dissi, se uno cittadino con l’armi di mare non si era mai fatto tiranno in una città posta in mare, tanto meno avrebbe potuto fare questo con le armi di terra. E, mediante questo, dovevano vedere che l’armi in mano a’ loro cittadini non gli potevano fare tiranni, ma i malvagi ordini del governo che fanno tiranneggiare una città; e avendo quegli buono governo, non avevano a temere delle loro armi. Presero pertanto uno partito imprudente; il che è stato cagione di torre loro di molta gloria e di molta felicità. Quanto allo errore che fa il Re di Francia a non tenere disciplinati i suoi popoli alla guerra, il che quelli vostri allegano per esemplo, non è alcuno, deposta qualche sua particolare passione, che non giudichi questo difetto essere in quel regno e questa negligenza sola farlo debile. Ma io ho fatto troppa grande digressione, e forse sono uscito del proposito mio; pure lo ho fatto per rispondervi e dimostrarvi che non si può fare fondamento in altre armi che nelle proprie, e l’armi proprie non si possono ordinare altrimenti che per via d’una ordinanza, ne’ per altre vie introdurre forme di eserciti in alcuno luogo nè per altro modo ordinare una disciplina militare. Se voi avete letto gli ordini che quelli primi Re fecero in Roma e massimamente Servio Tullo, troverrete che l’ordine delle classi non è altro che una ordinanza per potere di subito mettere insieme uno esercito per difesa di quella città. Ma torniamo al nostro Deletto. Dico di nuovo che, avendo ad instaurare un ordine vecchio, io gli prenderei diciassette; avendo a crearne uno nuovo, io gli prenderei d’ogni età tra diciassette e quaranta, per potermene valere subito.

Cosimo. Fareste voi differenza di quale arte voi gli scegliessi?

Fabrizio. Questi scrittori la fanno, perchè non vogliono che si prendano uccellatori, pescatori, cuochi, ruffiani e qualunque fa arte di sollazzo; ma vogliono che si tolgano, oltre a’ lavoratori di terra, fabbri, maniscalchi, legnaiuoli, beccai, cacciatori, e simili. Ma io ne farei poca differenza, quanto al conietturare dall’arte la bontà dell’uomo; ma sì bene, quanto al poterlo con più utilità usare. E per questa cagione i contadini che sono usi a lavorare la terra, sono più utili che niuno; perchè di tutte l’arti questa negli eserciti si adopera più che l’altre. Dopo questa sono i fabbri, legnaiuoli, maniscalchi, scarpellini; de’ quali è utile avere assai, perchè torna bene la loro arte in molte cose, sendo cosa molto buona avere uno soldato del quale tu tragga doppio servigio.

Cosimo. Da che si conoscono quelli che sono o non sono sufficienti a militare?

Fabrizio. Io voglio parlare del modo dello eleggere una ordinanza nuova per farne dipoi uno esercito; perchè parte si viene ancora a ragionare della elezione che si facesse ad instaurazione d’una ordinanza vecchia. Dico, pertanto, che la bontà d’uno che tu hai ad eleggere per soldato, si conosce o per esperienza, mediante qualche sua egregia opera, o per coniettura. La pruova di virtù non si può trovare negli uomini che si eleggono di nuovo e che mai più non sono stati eletti; e di questi se ne truova o pochi o niuno nell’ordinanze che di nuovo s’ordinano. È necessario pertanto, mancando questa esperienza, ricorrere alla coniettura; la quale si trae dagli anni, dall’arte e dalla presenza. Di quelle due prime si è ragionato; resta parlare della terza; e però dico come alcuni hanno voluto che il soldato sia grande, tra i quali fu Pirro; alcuni altri gli hanno eletti dalla gagliardia solo del corpo, come faceva Cesare; la quale gagliardia di corpo e d’animo si coniettura dalla composizione delle membra e dalla grazia dell’aspetto. E però dicono questi che ne scrivono, che vuole avere gli occhi vivi e lieti, il collo nervoso, il petto largo, le braccia musculose, le dita lunghe, poco ventre, i fianchi rotundi, le gambe e il piede asciutto; le quali parti sogliono sempre rendere l’uomo agile e forte, che sono due cose che in uno soldato si cercano sopra tutte l’altre. Debbesi sopratutto riguardare a’ costumi, e che in lui sia onestà e vergogna, altrimenti si elegge uno instrumento di scandolo e uno principio di corruzione; perchè non sia alcuno che creda che nella educazione disonesta e nello animo brutto possa capere alcuna virtù che sia in alcuna parte lodevole. Non mi pare superfluo, anzi credo che sia necessario, perchè voi intendiate meglio la importanza di questo Deletto, dirvi il modo che i consoli romani nel principio del magistrato loro osservavono nello eleggere le romane legioni; nel quale Deletto, per essere mescolati quegli si avevono ad eleggere, rispetto alle continue guerre, d’uomini veterani e nuovi, potevano procedere con la esperienza ne’ vecchi e con la coniettura ne’ nuovi. E debbesi notare questo: che questi Deletti si fanno, o per usargli allora, o per esercitargli allora ed usargli a tempo. Io ho parlato e parlerò di tutto quello che si ordina per usarlo a tempo, perchè la intenzione mia è mostrarvi come si possa ordinare uno esercito ne’ paesi dove non fusse milizia, ne’ quali paesi non si può avere Deletti per usargli allora; ma in quegli donde sia costume trarre eserciti, e per via del principe, si può bene avergli per allora, come si osservava a Roma e come si osserva oggi tra i Svizzeri. Perchè in questi Deletti, se vi sono de’ nuovi, vi sono ancora tanti degli altri consueti a stare negli ordini militari, che, mescolati i nuovi ed i vecchi insieme, fanno uno corpo unito e buono; nonostante che gli imperadori, poichè cominciarono a tenere le stazioni de’ soldati ferme, avevano preposto sopra i militi novelli, i quali chiamavano Tironi, uno maestro ad esercitargli, come si vede nella vita di Massimino imperadore. La quale cosa, mentre che Roma fu libera, non negli eserciti, ma dentro nella città era ordinato; ed essendo in quella consueti gli esercizi militari dove i giovanetti si esercitavano, ne nasceva che, sendo scelti poi per ire in guerra, erano assuefatti in modo nella finta milizia, che potevano facilmente adoperarsi nella vera. Ma avendo dipoi quegli imperadori spenti questi esercizi, furono necessitati usare i termini che io v’ho dimostrati. Venendo pertanto al modo del Deletto romano, dico, poichè i consoli romani, a’ quali era imposto il carico della guerra, avevano preso il magistrato, volendo ordinare i loro eserciti, perchè era costume che qualunque di loro avesse due legioni d’uomini romani, le quali erano il nervo degli eserciti loro,, creavano ventiquattro tribuni militari, e ne proponevano sei per ciascuna legione, i quali facevano quello uffizio che fanno oggi quegli che noi chiamiamo connestaboli. Facevano dipoi convenire tutti gli uomini romani idonei a portare armi, e ponevano i tribuni di qualunque legione separati l’uno dall’altro. dipoi a sorte traevano i tribi, de’ quali si avesse prima a fare il Deletto, e di quello tribo sceglievano quattro de’ migliori, de’ quali ne era eletto uno da’ tribuni della prima legione; dagli altri tre, ne era eletto uno da’ tribuni della seconda legione; degli altri due, ne era eletto uno da’ tribuni della terza; e quello ultimo toccava alla quarta legione. Dopo questi quattro se ne sceglieva altri quattro; de’ quali, prima, uno ne era eletto da’ tribuni della seconda legione; il secondo da quelli della terza; il terzo da quelli della quarta; il quarto rimaneva alla prima. dipoi se ne sceglieva altri quattro: il primo sceglieva la terza, il secondo la quarta, il terzo la prima, il quarto restava alla seconda; e così variava successivamente questo modo dello eleggere, tanto che la elezione veniva ad essere pari e le legioni si ragguagliavano. E come di sopra dicemmo, questo Deletto si poteva fare per usarlo allora, perchè si faceva d’uomini de’ quali buona parte erano esperimentati nella vera milizia e tutti, nella finta, esercitati; e potevasi fare questo Deletto per coniettura e per esperienza. Ma dove si avesse ad ordinare una milizia di nuovo, e per questo a scergli per a tempo, non si può fare questo Deletto se non per coniettura, la quale si prende dagli anni e dalla presenza.

Cosimo. Io credo al tutto essere vero quanto da voi è stato detto. Ma, innanzi che voi passiate ad altro ragionamento, io vi voglio domandare d’una cosa di che voi mi avete fatto ricordare, dicendo che il Deletto che si avesse a fare dove non fussero gli uomini usi a militare, si avrebbe a fare per coniettura; perchè io ho sentito in molte parti biasimare l’ordinanza nostra, e massime quanto al numero, perchè molti dicono che se ne debbe torre minore numero, di che se ne trarrebbe questo frutto: che sarebbono migliori e meglio scelti; non si darebbe tanto disagio agli uomini; potrebbesi dar loro qualche premio mediante il quale starebbono più contenti, e meglio si potrebbono comandare. Donde io vorrei intendere in questa parte l’opinione vostra, e se voi amereste più il numero grande che il piccolo, e quali modi terreste ad eleggerli nell’uno e nell’altro numero.

Fabrizio. senza dubbio egli è migliore e più necessario il numero grosso che il piccolo; anzi, a dire meglio, dove non se ne può ordinare gran quantità, non si può ordinare una ordinanza perfetta; e facilmente io vi annullerò tutte le ragioni assegnate da costoro. Dico pertanto in prima, che il minore numero dove sia assai popolo, come è, verbigrazia Toscana, non fa che voi gli abbiate migliori, nè che il Deletto sia più scelto. Perchè volendo, nello eleggere gli uomini, giudicargli dall’esperienza, se ne troverebbe in quel paese pochissimi i quali l’esperienza facesse probabili, sì perchè pochi ne sono stati in guerra, sì perchè, di quegli pochi, pochissimi hanno fatto pruova mediante la quale ei meritassono di essere prima scelti che gli altri; in modo che chi gli debbe in simili luoghi eleggere, conviene lasci da parte l’esperienza e gli prenda per coniettura. Riducendosi dunque altri in tale necessità, vorrei intendere, se mi vengono avanti venti giovani di buona presenza, con che regola io ne debbo prendere o lasciare alcuno; tale che, senza dubbio, credo che ogni uomo confesserà come e’ fia minore errore torgli tutti per armargli ed esercitargli, non potendo sapere quale di loro sia migliore, e riserbarsi a fare poi più certo Deletto quando, nel praticargli con lo esercizio, si conoscessero quegli di più spirito e di più vita. In modo che, considerato tutto, lo scerne in questo caso pochi per avergli migliori è al tutto falso. Quanto per dare meno disagio al paese e agli uomini, dico che l’ordinanza, o molta o poca ch’ella sia, non dà alcuno disagio; perchè questo ordine non toglie gli uomini da alcuna loro faccenda, non gli lega che non possano ire a fare alcuno loro fatto, perchè gli obliga solo ne’ giorni oziosi a convenire insieme per esercitarsi; la quale cosa non fa danno nè al paese nè agli uomini, anzi a’ giovani arrecherebbe diletto, perchè, dove ne’ giorni festivi vilmente si stanno oziosi per li ridotti, andrebbero per piacere a questi esercizi, perchè il trattare dell’armi, com’egli è bello spettacolo, così è a’ giovani dilettevole. Quanto a potere pagare il minore numero e, per questo, tenergli più ubbidienti e più contenti, rispondo come non si può fare ordinanza di sì pochi, che si possano in modo continuamente pagare, che quel pagamento loro sodisfaccia. Verbigrazia, se si ordinasse una milizia di cinquemila fanti, a volergli pagare in modo che si credesse che si contentassono, converrebbe dar loro almeno diecimila ducati il mese. In prima, questo numero di fanti non basta a fare uno esercito; questo pagamento è insopportabile a uno stato, e, dall’altro canto, non è sufficiente a tenere gli uomini contenti, ed obligati da potersene valere a sua posta. In modo che, nel fare questo, si spenderebbe assai, avrebbesi poche forze, e non sarebbero a sufficienza o a defenderti o a fare alcuna tua impresa. Se tu dessi loro più, o ne prendessi più, tanta più impossibilità ti sarebbe il pagargli. Se tu dessi loro meno, o ne prendessi meno, tanta meno contentezza sarebbe in loro, o a te tanta meno utilità arrecherebbono. Pertanto quegli che ragionano di fare una ordinanza, e, mentre ch’ella si dimora a casa, pagarla, ragionano di cose o impossibili o inutili. Ma è bene necessario pagargli quando si levono per menargli alla guerra. Pure se tale ordine dessi a’ descritti in quello qualche disagio ne’ tempi di pace, che non ce lo veggo, e’ vi sono per ricompenso tutti quegli beni che arreca una milizia ordinata in uno paese, perchè senza quella non vi è secura cosa alcuna. Conclude che, chi vuole il poco numero per poterlo pagare, o per qualunque altra delle cagioni allegate da voi, non se ne intende, perchè ancora fa per la opinione mia, che sempre ogni numero ti diminuirà tra le mani per infiniti impedimenti che hanno gli uomini, di modo che il poco numero tornerebbe a niente. Appresso, avendo l’ordinanza grossa, ti puoi a tua elezione valere de’ pochi e degli assai. Oltre a questo, ella ti ha a servire in fatto e in riputazione, e sempre ti darà più riputazione il gran numero. Aggiugnesi a questo che, faccendosi l’ordinanze per tenere gli uomini esercitati, se tu scrivi poco numero di uomini in assai paesi, ei sono tanto distanti gli scritti l’uno dall’altro, che tu non puoi senza loro danno gravissimo raccozzargli per esercitargli; e senza questo esercizio l’ordinanza è inutile, come nel suo luogo si dirà.

Cosimo. Basti sopra questa mia domanda quanto avete detto; ma io disidero ora che voi mi solviate uno altro dubbio. Costoro dicono che tale moltitudine di armati è per fare confusione, scandolo e disordine nel paese.

Fabrizio. Questa è un’altra vana opinione, per la cagione vi dirò. Questi ordinati all’armi possono causare disordine in due modi: o tra loro, o contro ad altri. Alle quali cose si può facilmente ovviare, dove l’ordine per se medesimo non ovviasse; perchè, quanto agli scandoli tra loro, questo ordine gli leva, non gli nutrisce, perchè, nello ordinarli, voi date loro armi e capi. Se il paese dove voi gli ordinate è sì imbelle che non sia, tra gli uomini di quello, armi, e sì unito che non vi sia capi, questo ordine gli fa più feroci contro al forestiero, ma non gli fa in niuno modo più disuniti, perchè gli uomini bene ordinati temono le leggi, armati come disarmati; nè mai possono alterare, se i capi che voi date loro non causano l’alterazione; e il modo a fare questo si dirà ora. Ma se il paese dove voi gli ordinate, è armigero e disunito, questo ordine solo è cagione d’unirgli, perchè costoro hanno armi e capi per loro medesimi, ma sono l’armi inutili alla guerra, e i capi nutritori di scandoli. E questo ordine dà loro armi utili alla guerra e capi estinguitori degli scandoli; perchè subito che in quel paese è offeso alcuno, ricorre al suo capo di parte, il quale, per mantenersi la reputazione, lo conforta alla vendetta, non alla pace. Al contrario fa il capo pubblico; tale che per questa via si lieva la cagione degli scandoli e si prepara quella della unione; e le provincie unite ed effeminate perdono la viltà e mantengono l’unione; le disunite e scandolose si uniscono e quella loro ferocia, che sogliono disordinatamente adoperare, si rivolta in pubblica utilità. Quanto a volere che non nuocano contro ad altri, si debbe considerare che non possono fare questo se non mediante i capi che gli governono. A volere che i capi non facciano disordine, è necessario avere cura che non acquistino sopra di loro troppa autorità. E avete a considerare che questa autorità si acquista o per natura, o per accidente. E quanto alla natura, conviene provvedere che chi è nato in un luogo, non sia preposto agli uomini descritti in quello, ma sia fatto capo di quelli luoghi dove non abbia alcuna naturale convenienza. Quanto allo accidente, si debbe ordinare la cosa in modo che ciascuno anno i capi si permutino da governo a governo; perchè la continua autorità sopra i medesimi uomini genera tra loro tanta unione, che facilmente si può convertire in preiudizio del principe. Le quali permute quanto sieno utili a quegli che le hanno usate, e dannose a chi non le ha osservate, si conosce per lo esempio del regno degli Assiri e dello imperio de’ Romani; dove si vede che quel regno durò mille anni senza tumulto e senza alcuna guerra civile; il che non procedè da altro che dalle permute che facevono da luogo a luogo ogni anno quegli capitani i quali erano preposti alla cura degli eserciti. Nè per altra cagione nello imperio romano, spento che fu il sangue di Cesare, vi nacquero tante guerre civili tra’ capitani degli eserciti e tante congiure da’ predetti capitani contro agli imperadori, se non per tenere continuamente fermi quegli capitani ne’ medesimi governi. E se in alcuni di quegli primi imperadori e di quegli poi i quali tennono l’imperio con reputazione, come Adriano, Marco, Severo e simili, fusse stato tanto vedere, che gli avessono introdotto questo costume di permutare i capitani in quello imperio, senza dubbio lo facevono più quieto e più durabile; perchè i capitani avrebbero avuta minore occasione di tumultuare, gl’imperadori minore cagione di temere, e il senato, ne’ mancamenti delle successioni, avrebbe avuto nella elezione dello imperadore più autorità, e per conseguente sarebbe stata migliore. Ma le cattive consuetudini, o per la ignoranza o per la poca diligenza degli uomini, nè per i malvagi nè per i buoni esempli si possono levare via.

Cosimo. Io non so se col mio domandare io v’ho quasi che tratto fuora dell’ordine vostro, perchè dal Deletto noi siamo entrati in uno altro ragionamento; e se io non me ne fussi poco fa scusato, crederrei meritarne qualche riprensione.

Fabrizio. Non vi dia noia questo; perchè tutto questo ragionamento era necessario volendo ragionare della ordinanza la quale, sendo biasimata da molti, conveniva la scusassi, volendo che questa prima parte del Deletto ci avesse luogo. E prima che io descenda all’altre parti, io voglio ragionare del Deletto degli uomini a cavallo. Questo si faceva, appresso agli antichi, de’ più ricchi, avendo riguardo e agli anni e alla qualità dell’uomo; e ne eleggevano trecento per legione, tanto che i cavagli romani in ogni esercito consolare non passavano la somma di secento.

Cosimo. Fareste voi ordinanza di cavagli per esercitargli a casa, e valersene col tempo?

Fabrizio. Anzi è necessario; e non si può fare altrimenti, a volere avere l’armi che sieno sue, e a non volere avere a torre di quegli che ne fanno arte.

Cosimo. Come gli eleggeresti?

Fabrizio. Imiterei i Romani; torrei de’ più ricchi, darei loro capi in quel modo che oggi agli altri si danno, e gli armerei ed eserciterei.

Cosimo. A questi sarebb’egli bene dare qualche provvisione!

Fabrizio. Sibbene, ma tanta solamente, quanta è necessaria a nutrire il cavallo; perchè, arrecando a’ tuoi sudditi spesa, si potrebbono dolere di te. Però sarebbe necessario pagare loro il cavallo e le spese di quello.

Cosimo. Quanto numero ne faresti, e come gli armeresti?

Fabrizio. Voi passate in un altro ragionamento. Io vel dirò nel suo luogo, che fia quando io vi avrò detto come si debbono armare i fanti, o come a fare una giornata si preparano.

LIBRO SECONDO

IO credo che sia necessario, trovati che sono gli uomini, armargli; e volendo fare questo, credo sia cosa necessaria esaminare che arme usavano gli antichi, e di quelle eleggere le migliori. I Romani dividevano le loro fanterie in gravemente e leggermente armate. Quelle dell’armi leggieri chiamavano con uno vocabolo Veliti. Sotto questo nome s’intendevano tutti quegli che traevano con la fromba, con la balestra, co’ dardi; e portavano la maggior parte di loro, per loro difesa, coperto il capo e come una rotella in braccio. Combattevano costoro fuora degli ordini e discosti alla grave armadura; la quale era una celata che veniva infino in sulle spalle, una corazza che con le sue falde perveniva infino alle ginocchia; e avevano le gambe e le braccia coperte dagli stinieri e da’ bracciali, con uno scudo imbracciato lungo due braccia e largo uno, il quale aveva un cerchio di ferro di sopra, per potere sostenere il colpo, e un altro di sotto, acciocchè, in terra stropicciandosi, non si consumasse. Per offendere avevano cinta una spada in sul fianco sinistro lunga uno braccio e mezzo, in sul fianco destro uno stiletto. Avevano uno dardo in mano, il quale chiamavono pilo, e nello appiccare la zuffa lo lanciavano al nimico. Questa era la importanza delle armi Romane, con le quali eglino occuparono tutto il mondo. E benchè alcuni di questi antichi scrittori dieno loro, oltre alle predette armi, un’asta in mano in modo che uno spiede, io non so come un’asta grave si possa da chi tiene lo scudo adoperare; perchè, a maneggiarla con due mani, lo scudo lo impedisce, con una, non può fare cosa buona per la gravezza sua. Oltre a questo, combattere nelle frotte e negli ordini con l’arme in asta è inutile, eccetto che nella prima fronte dove si ha lo spazio libero a potere spiegare tutta l’asta; il che negli ordini dentro non si può fare, perchè la natura delle battaglie, come nello ordine di quelle vi dirò, è continuamente ristringersi; perchè si teme meno questo, ancora che sia inconveniente, che il rallargarsi, dove è il pericolo evidentissimo. Talchè tutte le armi che passano di lunghezza due braccia, nelle stretture sono inutili; perchè se voi avete l’asta e vogliate adoperarla a due mani, posto che lo scudo non vi noiasse, non potete offendere con quella uno nimico che vi sia addosso. Se voi la prendete con una mano, per servirvi dello scudo, non la potendo pigliare se non nel mezzo, vi avanza tanta asta dalla parte di dietro, che quelli che vi sono di dietro v’impediscono a maneggiarla. E che sia vero, o che i Romani non avessono queste aste, o che, avendole, se ne valessono poco, leggete tutte le giornate nella sua istoria da Tito Livio celebrate, e vedrete, in quelle radissime volte essere fatta menzione delle aste; anzi sempre dice che, lanciati i pili, ei mettevano mano alla spada. Però io voglio lasciare queste aste, ed attenermi, quanto a’ Romani, alla spada per offesa, e per difesa allo scudo con l’altre armi sopradette. I Greci non armavono sì gravemente per difesa come i Romani, ma, per offesa si fondavono più in sull’asta che in sulla spada, e massime le falangi di Macedonia, le quali portavano aste che chiamavono sarisse, lunghe bene dieci braccia, con le quali eglino aprivono le stiere nimiche e tenevano gli ordini nelle loro falangi. E benchè alcuni scrittori dicono ch’egli avevano ancora lo scudo, non so, per le ragioni dette di sopra, come e’ potevano stare insieme le sarisse e quegli. Oltre a questo, nella giornata che fece Paulo Emilio con Persa re di Macedonia, non mi ricorda che vi sia fatta menzione di scudi, ma solo delle sarisse e delle difficultà che ebbe lo esercito Romano a vincerle. In modo che io conietturo, che non altrimenti fusse una falange macedonica, che si sia oggi una battaglia di Svizzeri, i quali hanno nelle picche tutto lo sforzo e tutta la potenza loro. Ornavano i Romani oltre alle armi le fanterie con pennacchi; le quali cose fanno l’aspetto d’uno esercito agli amici bello, a’ nimici terribile. l’armi degli uomini a cavallo in quella prima antichità Romana erano uno scudo tondo, ed avevano coperto il capo, ed il resto era disarmato. Avevano la spada, ed un’asta con il ferro solamente dinanzi, lunga e sottile, donde venivano a non potere fermare lo scudo; e l’asta nello agitarsi si fiaccava, ed essi, per essere disarmati, erano esposti alle ferite. Dipoi con il tempo si armarono come i fanti; ma avevano lo scudo più breve e quadrato e l’asta più ferma e con due ferri, acciocchè, scollandosi da una parte, si potessero valere dell’altra. Con queste armi, così di piede come di cavallo, occuparono i miei Romani tutto il mondo; ed è credibile, per il frutto che se ne vide, che fussono i meglio armati eserciti che fussero mai. E Tito Livio nelle sue istorie ne fa fede assai volte dove, venendo in comparazione degli eserciti nimici, dice: Ma i Romani per virtù, per generazione di armi e disciplina erano superiori. E però io ho più particolarmente ragionato dell’armi de’ vincitori, che de’ vinti. Parmi bene solo a ragionare del modo dello armare presente. Hanno i fanti, per loro difesa, uno petto di ferro e, per offesa, una lancia nove braccia lunga, la quale chiamano picca, con una spada al fianco piuttosto tonda nella punta che acuta. Questo è l’armare ordinario delle fanterie d’oggi, perchè pochi ne sono che abbiano armate le stiene e le braccia, niuno il capo; e quelli pochi portano in cambio di picca un’alabarda, l’asta della quale, come sapete, è lunga tre braccia e ha il ferro ritratto come una scure. Hanno tra loro scoppiettieri, i quali, con lo impeto del fuoco, fanno quello ufficio che facevano anticamente i funditori e i balestrieri. Questo modo dello armare fu trovato da’ populi Tedeschi e massime dai Svizzeri; i quali, sendo poveri e volendo vivere liberi, erano e sono necessitati combattere con la ambizione de’ principi della Magna; i quali, per essere ricchi, potevano nutrire cavalli, il che non potevano fare quelli popoli per la povertà; onde ne nacque che, essendo a piè e volendosi difendere da’ nimici che erano a cavallo, convenne loro ricercare degli antichi ordini e trovare arme che dalla furia de’ cavalli gli difendesse. Questa necessità ha fatto o mantenere o ritrovare a costoro gli antichi ordini, senza quali, come ciascuno prudente afferma, la fanteria è al tutto inutile. Presono pertanto per arme le picche, arme utilissima non solamente a sostenere i cavalli, ma a vincergli. E hanno per virtù di queste armi e di questi ordini presa i Tedeschi tanta audacia, che quindici o ventimila di loro assalterebbero ogni gran numero di cavalli; e di questo da venticinque anni in qua se ne sono vedute esperienze assai. E sono stati tanto possenti gli esempli della virtù loro fondati in su queste armi e questi ordini, che poi che il re Carlo passò in Italia, ogni nazione gli ha imitati; tantochè gli eserciti Spagnuoli sono divenuti in una grandissima reputazione.

Cosimo. Quale modo di armare lodate voi più, o questo Tedesco o, l’antico Romano?

Fabrizio. Il Romano senza dubbio; e dirovvi il bene e il male dell’uno e dell’altro. I fanti Tedeschi così armati possono sostenere e vincere i cavalli; sono più espediti al cammino e all’ordinarsi, per non essere carichi d’armi. Dall’altra parte sono esposti a tutti i colpi, e discosto e d’appresso, per essere disarmati; sono inutili alle battaglie delle terre e ad ogni zuffa dove sia gagliarda resistenza. Ma i Romani sostenevano e vincevano i cavalli, come questi; erano sicuri da’ colpi da presso e di lontano, per essere coperti d’armi; potevano meglio urtare e meglio sostenere gli urti, avendo gli scudi; potevano più attamente nelle presse valersi con la spada che questi con la picca; e se ancora hanno la spada, per essere senza lo scudo, ella diventa in tale caso inutile. Potevano sicuramente assaltare le terre, avendo il capo coperto e potendoselo meglio coprire con lo scudo. Talmente che ei non avevano altra incommodità che la gravezza dell’armi e la noia dello averle a condurre; le quali cose essi superavano coll’avvezzare il corpo a’ disagi e con indurirlo a potere durare fatica. E voi sapete come nelle cose consuete gli uomini non patiscono. E avete ad intendere questo: che le fanterie possono avere a combattere con fanti e con cavalli, e sempre fieno inutili quelle che non potranno o sostenere i cavalli, o, potendoli sostenere, abbiano nondimeno ad avere paura di fanterie che sieno meglio armate e meglio ordinate che loro. Ora se voi considererete la fanteria Tedesca e la Romana, voi troverrete nella Tedesca attitudine, come abbiamo detto, a vincere i cavalli, ma disavvantaggio grande quando combatte con una fanteria ordinata come loro e armata come la Romana. Tale che vi sarà questo vantaggio dall’una all’altra: che i Romani potranno superare i fanti e i cavalli, i Tedeschi solo i cavalli.

Cosimo. Io disidererei che voi venissi a qualche esempio più particolare, acciocchè noi lo intendessimo meglio.

Fabrizio. Dico così: che voi troverrete, in molti luoghi delle istorie nostre, le fanterie Romane avere vinti innumerabili cavalli, e mai troverrete ch’elle sieno state vinte da uomini a piè, per difetto ch’ell’abbiano avuto nell’armare, o per vantaggio che abbia avuto il nimico nell’armi. Perchè, se il modo delloro armare avesse avuto difetto, egli era necessario che seguisse l’una delle due cose: o che, trovando chi armasse meglio di loro, ei non andassono più avanti con gli acquisti, o che pigliassero de’ modi forestieri e lasciassero i loro. E perchè non seguì nè l’una cosa nè l’altra, ne nasce che si può facilmente conietturare che il modo dell’armare loro fusse migliore che quello di alcuno altro. Non è già così intervenuto alle fanterie Tedesche, perchè si è visto fare loro cattiva pruova qualunque volta quelle hanno avuto a combattere con uomini a piè, ordinati e ostinati come loro; il che è nato dal vantaggio che quelle hanno riscontro nelle armi nimiche. Filippo Visconti, duca di Milano, essendo assaltato da diciottomila Svizzeri, mandò loro incontro il conte Carmignuola, il quale allora era suo capitano. Costui con seimila cavalli e pochi fanti, gli andò a trovare, e, venendo con loro alle mani, fu ributtato con suo danno gravissimo. Donde il Carmignuola, come uomo prudente, subito conobbe la potenza dell’armi nimiche, e quanto contro a’ cavalli le prevalevano, e la debolezza de’ cavalli contro a quegli a piè così ordinati; e rimesso insieme le sue genti, andò a ritrovare i Svizzeri e, come fu loro propinquo, fece scendere da cavallo le sue genti d’armi; e in tale maniera combattendo con quegli, tutti, fuora che tremila, gli ammazzò; i quali, veggendosi consumare senza avere rimedio, gittate l’armi in terra, si arrenderono.

Cosimo. Donde nasce tanto disavvantaggio?

Fabrizio. Io ve l’ho poco fa detto; ma poichè voi non l’avete inteso, io ve lo replicherò. Le fanterie Tedesche, come poco fa vi si disse, quasi disarmate per difendersi, hanno, per offendere, la picca e la spada. Vengono con queste armi e con gli loro ordini a trovare il nimico, il quale, se è bene armato per difendersi, come erano gli uomini d’arme del Carmignuola che gli fece scendere a piè, viene con la spada e ne’ suoi ordini a trovargli; e non ha altra difficultà che accostarsi a’ Svizzeri tantochè gli aggiunga con la spada; perchè, come gli ha aggiunti, li combatte sicuramente, perchè il Tedesco non può dare con la picca al nimico che gli è presso per la lunghezza dell’asta, e gli conviene mettere mano alla spada, la quale è a lui inutile, sendo egli disarmato e avendo all’incontro uno nimico che sia tutto armato. Donde chi considera il vantaggio e il disavvantaggio dell’uno e dell’altro, vedrà come il disarmato non vi arà rimedio veruno; e il vincere la prima punga e passare le prime punte delle picche non è molta difficultà, sendo bene armato chi le combatte; perchè le battaglie vanno, come voi intenderete meglio, quando io vi arò dimostro com’elle si mettono insieme, e, andando, di necessità si accostano in modo l’una all’altra, ch’elle si pigliano per il petto; e se dalle picche ne è alcuno morto o gittato per terra, quegli che rimangono in piè sono tanti che bastano alla vittoria. Di qui nacque che il Carmignuola vinse con tanta strage de’ Svizzeri e con poca perdita de’ suoi.

Cosimo. Considerate che quegli del Carmignuola furono uomini d’arme, i quali, benchè fussero a piè, erano coperti tutti di ferro, e però poterono fare la pruova che fecero; sì che io mi penso che bisognasse armare una fanteria come loro, volendo fare la medesima pruova.

Fabrizio. Se voi vi ricordassi come io dissi che i Romani armavano, voi non pensereste a cotesto, perchè uno fante che abbia il capo coperto dal ferro, il petto difeso dalla corazza e dallo scudo, le gambe e le braccia armate, è molto più atto a difendersi dalle picche ed entrare tra loro, che non è uno uomo d’arme a piè. Io ne voglio dare un poco di esemplo moderno. Erano scese di Sicilia nel Regno di Napoli fanterie Spagnuole, per andare a trovare Consalvo, che era assediato in Barletta da’ Francesi. Fecesi loro incontro monsignore d’Ubignì con le sue genti d’arme e con circa quattromila fanti Tedeschi. Vennero alle mani i Tedeschi. Con le loro picche basse apersero le fanterie Spagnuole, ma quelle, aiutate da’ loro brocchieri e dall’agilità del corpo loro, si mescolarono con i Tedeschi, tantochè gli poterono aggiugnere con la spada; donde ne nacque la morte, quasi, di tutti quegli e la vittoria degli Spagnuoli. Ciascuno sa quanti fanti Tedeschi morirono nella giornata di Ravenna; il che nacque dalle medesime cagioni: perchè le fanterie Spagnuole si accostarono al tiro della spada alle fanterie Tedesche, e le avrebbero consumate tutte, se da’ cavalli Francesi non fussero i fanti Tedeschi stati soccorsi; nondimeno gli Spagnuoli, stretti insieme, si ridussero in luogo sicuro. Concludo, adunque, che una buona fanteria dee non solamente potere sostenere i cavalli, ma non avere paura de’ fanti; il che, come ho molte volte detto procede dall’armi e dall’ordine.

Cosimo. Dite, pertanto, come voi l’armereste.

Fabrizio. Prenderei delle armi Romane e delle Tedesche, e vorrei che la metà fussero armati come i Romani e l’altra metà come i Tedeschi. Perchè, se in seimila fanti, come io vi dirò poco dipoi, io avessi tremila fanti con gli scudi alla Romana e dumila picche e mille scoppiettieri alla Tedesca, mi basterebbono; perchè io porrei le picche o nella fronte delle battaglie, o dove io temessi più de’ cavalli; e di quelli dello scudo e della spada mi servirei per fare spalle alle picche, e per vincere la giornata, come io vi mostrerò. Tantochè io crederei che una fanteria così ordinata superasse oggi ogni altra fanteria.

Cosimo. Questo che è detto ci basta quanto alle fanterie, ma quanto a’ cavalli disideriamo intendere quale vi pare più gagliardo armare, o il nostro o l’antico?

Fabrizio. Io credo che in questi tempi, rispetto alle selle arcionate e alle staffe non usate dagli antichi, si stia più gagliardamente a cavallo che allora. Credo che si armi anche più sicuro, tale che oggi uno squadrone di uomini d’arme, pesando assai, viene ad essere con più difficultà sostenuto che non erano gli antichi cavalli. Con tutto questo, nondimeno, io giudico che non si debba tenere più conto de’ cavalli, che anticamente se ne tenesse; perchè, come di sopra si è detto, molte volte ne’ tempi nostri hanno con i fanti ricevuta vergogna, e la riceveranno, sempre che riscontrino una fanteria armata e ordinata come di sopra. Aveva Tigrane, re d’Armenia, contro allo esercito Romano del quale era capitano Lucullo, cento cinquantamila cavalli, tra li quali erano molti armati come gli uomini d’arme nostri, i quali chiamavano catafratti; e dall’altra parte i Romani non aggiugnevano a seimila, con venticinquemila fanti, tantochè Tigrane, veggendo l’esercito de’ nimici disse: Questi sono cavalli assai per un’ambasceria; nondimeno, venuto alle mani, fu rotto. E chi scrive quella zuffa vilipende quelli catafratti mostrandogli inutili, perchè dice che, per avere coperto il viso, erano poco atti a vedere e offendere il nimico e, per essere aggravati dall’armi, non potevano, cadendo, rizzarsi nè della persona loro in alcuna maniera valersi. Dico, pertanto, che quegli popoli, o regni, che istimeranno più la cavalleria che la fanteria, sempre fieno deboli ed esposti a ogni rovina, come si è veduta l’Italia ne’ tempi nostri; la quale è stata predata, rovinata e corsa da’ forestieri, non per altro peccato che per avere tenuta poca cura della milizia di piè, ed essersi ridotti i soldati suoi tutti a cavallo. Debbesi bene avere de’ cavalli, ma per secondo e non per primo fondamento dello esercito suo; perchè, a fare scoperte, a correre e guastare il paese nimico, a tenere tribolato e infestato l’esercito di quello e in sull’armi sempre, a impedirgli le vettovaglie, sono necessarj e utilissimi; ma, quanto alle giornate e alle zuffe campali che sono la importanza della guerra e il fine a che si ordinano gli eserciti, sono più utili a seguire il nimico, rotto ch’egli è, che a fare alcuna altra cosa che in quelle si operi, e sono alla virtù del peditato assai inferiori.

Cosimo. E’ mi occororno due dubitazioni; l’una, che io so che i Parti non operavano in guerra altro che i cavalli, e pure si divisono il mondo con i Romani; l’altra, che io vorrei che voi mi dicestecome la cavalleria puote essere sostenuta da’ fanti, e donde nasca la virtù di questi e la debolezza di quella.

Fabrizio. O io vi ho detto, o io vi ho voluto dire, come il ragionamento mio delle cose della guerra non ha a passare i termini d’Europa. Quando così sia, io non vi sono obligato a rendere ragione di quello che si è costumato in Asia. Pure io v’ho a dire questo: che la milizia de’ Parti era al tutto contraria a quella de’ Romani, perchè i Parti militavano tutti a cavallo e, nel combattere, procedevano confusi e rotti ed era uno modo di combattere instabile e pieno di incertitudine. I Romani erano, si può dire, quasi tutti a piè e combattevano stretti insieme e saldi; e vinsono variamente l’uno l’altro secondo il sito largo o stretto; perchè, in questo, i Romani erano superiori, in quello, i Parti; i quali poterono fare gran pruove con quella milizia, rispetto alla regione che loro avevano a difendere; la quale era larghissima, perchè ha le marine lontane mille miglia, i fiumi l’uno dall’altro due o tre giornate, e le terre medesimamente e gli abitatori radi; dimodochè un esercito Romano, grave e tardo per l’armi e per l’ordine, non poteva cavalcarlo senza suo grave danno, per esser chi lo difendeva a cavallo ed espeditissimo, in modochè egli era oggi in uno luogo, e domani discosto cinquanta miglia. Di quì nacque, che i Parti poterono prevalersi con la cavalleria solo, e la rovina dell’esercito di Crasso, e li pericoli di quello di Marcantonio. Ma io come vi ho detto, non intendo in questo mio ragionamento parlare della milizia fuori d’Europa, però voglio star in su quello che ordinarono già i Romani e i Greci, ed oggi fanno i Tedeschi. Ma vegniamo all’altra domanda vostra, dove voi desiderate intendere quale ordine o quale virtù naturale fa che i fanti superano la cavalleria. E vi dico in prima, come i cavalli non possono andare, come i fanti, in ogni luogo. Sono più tardi ad ubbidire, quando occorre variare l’ordine, che i fanti; perchè s’egli è bisogno, o andando avanti tornare indietro, o tornando indietro andare avanti, o muoversi stando fermi, o andando fermarsi, senza dubbio non lo possono così appunto fare i cavalli come i fanti. Non possono i cavalli, sendo da qualche impeto disordinati, ritornare negli ordini, se non con difficoltà, ancorchè quello impeto manchi; il che rarissimo fanno i fanti. Occorre oltre a questo, molte volte, che uno uomo animoso sarà sopra uno cavallo vile e uno vile sopra uno animoso; donde conviene che queste disparità d’animo faccino disordine. Nè alcuno si maravigli, che un nodo di fanti sostenga ogni impeto di cavalli; perchè il cavallo è animale sensato, e conosce i pericoli, e mal volentieri vi entra. E se considererete quali forze lo faccino andar avanti, e quali lo tengano indietro, vedrete senza dubbio esser maggiori quelle che lo ritengono, che quelle che lo spingono; perchè innanzi lo fa andar lo sprone, e dall’altra banda lo ritiene o la spada o la picca. Tale che si è visto per l’ antiche e per le moderne esperienze un nodo di fanti essere sicurissimo, anzi insuperabile da’ cavalli. E se voi arguissi a questo che la foga con la quale viene, lo fa più furioso a urtare chi lo volesse sostenere, meno stimare la picca che lo sprone, dico che, se il cavallo discosto comincia a vedere di avere a percuotere nelle punte delle picche, o per se stesso egli raffrenerà il corso, di modo che come egli si sentirà pugnere si fermerà affatto, o, giunto a quelle, si volterà a destra o a sinistra. Di che se volete fare esperienza, provate a correre un cavallo contro a un muro; radi ne troverrete che, con quale vi vogliate foga, vi dieno dentro. Cesare, avendo in Francia a combattere con i Svizzeri, scese e fece scendere ciascuno a piè e rimuovere dalla schiera i cavalli, come cosa più atta a fuggire che a combattere. Ma, nonostante questi naturali impedimenti che hanno i cavalli, quello capitano che conduce i fanti, debbe eleggere vie che abbiano per i cavalli più impedimenti si può; e rado occorrerà che l’uomo non possa assicurarsi per la qualità del paese. Perchè, se si cammina per le colline, il sito ti libera da quelle foghe di che voi dubitate; se si va per il piano, radi piani sono che, per le colture o per li boschi, non ti assicurino; perchè ogni macchia, ogni argine, ancora debole, toglie quella foga, e ogni coltura, dove sia vigne e altri arbori, impedisce i cavalli. E se tu vieni a giornata, quello medesimo ti interviene che camminando, perchè ogni poco di impedimento che il cavallo abbia, perde la foga sua. Una cosa nondimeno non voglio scordare di dirvi: come i Romani istimavano tanto i loro ordini e confidavono tanto nelle loro armi, che se gli avessono avuto ad eleggere o un luogo sì aspro per guardarsi dai cavalli, dove ei non avessono potuti spiegare gli ordini loro, o uno dove avessono avuto a temere più de’ cavalli, ma vi si fussono potuti distendere, sempre prendevano questo e lasciavano quello. Ma perch’egli è tempo passare allo esercizio, avendo armate queste fanterie secondo l’ antico e moderno uso, vedreno quali esercizj facevano loro fare i Romani, avanti che le fanterie si conduchino a fare giornata. Ancora ch’elle sieno bene elette e meglio armate, si deggiono con grandissimo studio esercitare, perchè senza questo esercizio mai soldato alcuno non fu buono. Deggiono essere questi esercizj tripartiti: l’uno, per indurare il corpo e farlo atto a’ disagi e più veloce e più destro; l’altro, per imparare ad operare l’armi; il terzo, per imparare ad osservare gli ordini negli eserciti, così nel camminare, come nel combattere e nello alloggiare. Le quali sono le tre principali azioni che faccia uno esercito; perchè, se uno esercito cammina, alloggia e combatte ordinatamente e praticamente, il capitano ne riporta l’onore suo, ancora che la giornata avesse non buono fine. Hanno pertanto a questi esercizj tutte le republiche antiche provvisto in modo, per costume e per legge, che non se ne lasciava indietro alcuna parte. Esercitavano adunque la loro gioventù per fargli veloci nel correre, per fargli destri nel saltare, per fargli forti a trarre il palo o a fare alle braccia. E queste tre qualità sono quasi che necessarie in uno soldato, perchè la velocità lo fa atto a preoccupare i luoghi al nimico, a giugnerlo insperato e inaspettato, a seguitarlo quando egli è rotto. La destrezza lo fa atto a schifare il colpo, a saltare una fossa, a superare uno argine. La fortezza lo fa meglio portare l’armi, urtare il nimico, sostenere uno impeto. E sopratutto, per fare il corpo più atto a’ disagi, si avvezzavano a portare gran pesi. La quale consuetudine è necessaria, perchè nelle espedizioni difficili conviene molte volte che il soldato oltre all’armi, porti da vivere per più giorni; e se non fusse assuefatto a questa fatica non potrebbe farlo; e per questo o e’ non si potrebbe fuggire uno pericolo o acquistare con fama una vittoria. Quanto ad imparare ad operare l’armi, gli esercitavano in questo modo. Volevano che i giovani si vestissero armi che pesassero più il doppio che le vere, e per spada davano loro un bastone piombato, il quale a comparazione di quella era gravissimo. Facevano a ciascuno di loro ficcare un palo in terra, che rimanesse alto tre braccia, e in modo gagliardo, che i colpi non lo fiaccassero o atterrassono; contro al qual palo il giovane con lo scudo e col bastone, come contro ad un nimico si esercitava, ed ora gli tirava come se gli volesse ferire la testa o la faccia, ora come se lo volesse percuotere per fianco, ora per le gambe, ora si tirava indietro, ora si faceva innanzi. E avevano in questo esercizio questa avvertenza, di farsi atti a coprire se e ferire il nemico; ed avendo l’armi finte gravissime, parevano dipoi loro le vere più leggieri. Volevano i Romani che i loro soldati ferissono di punta e non di taglio, sì per essere il colpo più mortale, ed avere manco difesa, sì per scoprirsi meno chi ferisse, ed esser più atto a raddoppiarsi che il taglio. Non vi maravigliate che quelli antichi pensassero a queste cose minime, perchè dove si ragiona, che gli uomini abbiano a venire alle mani, ogni picciolo vantaggio è di gran momento; ed io vi ricordo quello, che di questo gli scrittori ne dicono, piuttosto ch’io ve l’insegni. Nè istimavano gli antichi cosa più felice in una Repubblica, che essere in quella assai uomini esercitati nell’armi; perchè non lo splendor delle gemme e dell’oro fa che i nemici ti si sottomettono, ma solo il timore dell’armi. Dipoi gli errori che si fanno nelle altre cose, si possono qualche volta correggere; ma quegli che si fanno nella guerra, sopravvenendo subito la pena, non si possono emendare. Oltre a quello il saper combatter fa gli uomini più audaci, perchè niuno teme di fare quelle cose, che gli pare aver imparato a fare. Volevano pertanto gli antichi, che i loro cittadini si esercitassino in ogni bellica azione, e facevano trarre loro contro a quel palo dardi più gravi che i veri; il qual esercizio, oltre al fare gli uomini esperti nel trarre, fa ancora le braccia più snodate e più forti. Insegnavano ancora lor trarre con l’arco e con la fromba, e a tutte queste cose avevano preposti maestri, in modo che poi, quando egli erano eletti per andare alla guerra, egli erano già con l’animo e con la disposizione soldati. Nè restava loro ad imparare altro che andare negli ordini e mantenersi in quegli, o camminando o combattendo, il che facilmente imparavano, mescolandosi con quegli che, per avere più tempo militato, sapevano stare negli ordini.

Cosimo. Quali esercizj fareste voi fare loro al presente?

Fabrizio. Assai di quegli che si sono detti, come: correre e fare alle braccia, fargli saltare, fargli affaticare sotto armi più gravi che l’ordinarie, fargli trarre con la balestra e con l’arco; a che aggiugnerei lo scoppietto, instrumento nuovo, come voi sapete, e necessario. E a questi esercizj assuefarei tutta la gioventù del mio stato, ma, con maggiore industria e più sollecitudine, quella parte che io avessi descritta per militare; e sempre ne’ giorni oziosi si eserciterebbero. Vorrei ancora ch’egl’imparassino a notare; il che è cosa molto utile, perchè non sempre sono i ponti a’ fiumi, non sempre sono parati i navigj; tale che, non sapendo il tuo esercito notare, resti privo di molte commodità, e ti si tolgono molte occasioni al bene operare. I Romani non per altro avevano ordinato che i giovani si esercitassero in Campo Marzio, se non perchè, avendo propinquo il Tevere, potessero, affaticati nello esercizio di terra, ristorarsi nella acqua e parte, nel notare, esercitarsi. Farei ancora, come gli antichi, esercitare quegli che militassono a cavallo; il che è necessarissimo, perchè, oltre al sapere cavalcare sappiano a cavallo valersi di loro medesimi. E per questo avevano ordinati cavalli di legno, sopr’alli quali si addestravano, saltandovi sopra armati e disarmati, senza alcuno aiuto e da ogni mano, il che faceva che ad un tratto e ad un cenno d’uno capitano la cavalleria era a piè, e così ad un cenno rimontava a cavallo. E tali esercizi, e di piè e di cavallo, come allora erano facili, così ora non sarebbero difficili a quella Repubblica o a quel principe che volesse farli mettere in pratica alla sua gioventù; come per esperienza si vede in alcune città di Ponente, dove si tengono vivi simili modi con questo ordine. Dividono quelle tutti i loro abitanti in varie parti, e ogni parte nominano da una generazione di quell’armi che egli usano in guerra. E perchè egli usano picche, alabarde, archi e scoppietti, chiamano quelle: picchieri, alabardieri, scoppiettieri e arcieri. Conviene, adunque, a tutti gli abitanti dichiararsi in quale ordine voglia essere descritto. E perchè tutti, o per vecchiezza o per altri impedimenti, non sono atti alla guerra, fanno di ciascuno ordine una scelta, e gli chiamano i Giurati; i quali ne’ giorni oziosi sono obligati a esercitarsi in quell’armi dalle quali sono nominati. E ha ciascuno illuogo suo deputato dal publico, dove tale esercizio si debba fare; e quelli che sono di quello ordine, ma non de’ Giurati, concorrono con i danari a quelle spese che in tale esercizio sono necessarie. Quello pertanto che fanno loro, potremmo fare noi; ma la nostra poca prudenza non lascia pigliare alcuno buono partito. Da questi esercizj nasceva che gli antichi avevano buone fanterie e che ora quegli di Ponente sono migliori fanti che i nostri; perchè gli antichi gli esercitavano, o a casa, come facevano quelle republiche, o negli eserciti, come facevano quegli imperadori, per le cagioni che di sopra si dissono. Ma noi a casa esercitare non li vogliamo; in campo non possiamo, per non essere nostri suggetti e non gli potere obligare ad altri esercizj che per loro medesimi si vogliono. La quale cagione ha fatto che si sono straccurati prima gli esercizj e poi gli ordini, e che i Regni e le Repubbliche, massime italiane, vivono in tanta debolezza. Ma torniamo all’ordine nostro; e, seguitando questa materia degli esercizi, dico come non basta a far buoni eserciti avere indurati gli uomini, fattigli gagliardi, veloci e destri; che bisogna ancora ch’essi imparino a stare negli ordini, ad ubbidire a’ segni a’ suoni ed alle voci del capitano; sapere, stando, ritirandosi, andando innanzi, combattendo e camminando, mantenere quelli; perchè senza questa disciplina, con ogni accurata diligenza osservata e praticata, mai esercito non fu buono. E senza dubbio gli uomini feroci e disordinati sono molto più deboli che i timidi e ordinati; perchè l’ordine caccia dagli uomini il timore, il disordine scema la ferocia. E perchè voi intendiate meglio quello che di sotto si dirà, voi avete a intendere come ogni nazione, nell’ordinare gli uomini suoi alla guerra, ha fatto nell’esercito suo, ovvero nella sua milizia uno membro principale; il quale, se l’hanno variato con il nome, l’hanno poco variato con il numero degli uomini, perchè tutti l’hanno composto di sei in ottomila uomini. Questo membro da’ Romani fu chiamato Legione, da’ Greci Falange, dai Francesi Caterva. Questo medesimo ne’ nostri tempi da’ Svizzeri, i quali soli dell’antica milizia ritengono alcuna ombra, è chiamato in loro lingua quello che in nostra significa battaglione. Vero è che ciascuno l’ha poi diviso in varie battaglie, ed a suo proposito ordinato. Parmi, adunque, che noi fondiamo il nostro parlare in su questo nome come più noto, e dipoi, secondo gli antichi e moderni ordini, il meglio che è possibile, ordinarlo. E perchè i Romani dividevano la loro legione, che era composta di cinque in seimila uomini, in dieci coorti, io voglio che noi dividiamo il nostro battaglione in dieci battaglie e lo componiamo di seimila uomini di piè; e dareno a ogni battaglia quattrocentocinquanta uomini, de’ quali ne sieno quattrocento armati d’armi gravi e cinquanta d’armi leggieri. l’armi gravi sieno trecento scudi con le spade, e chiaminsi scudati; e cento con le picche, e chiaminsi picche ordinarie; l’armi leggieri sieno cinquanta fanti armati di scoppietti, balestra e partigiane e rotelle; e questi da un nome antico si chiamino Veliti ordinarii. Tutte le dieci battaglie pertanto vengono ad avere tremila scudati, mille picche ordinarie e cinquecento Veliti ordinarj; i quali tutti fanno il numero di quattromila e cinquecento fanti. E noi diciamo, che vogliamo fare il battaglione di seimila, però bisogna aggiugnere altri mille cinquecento fanti, de’ quali ne farei mille con le picche, le quali chiamerei picche estraordinarie, e cinquecento armati alla leggiera, i quali chiamerei Veliti estraordinarii. E così verrebbero le mie fanterie, secondo che poco fa dissi, a essere composte mezze di scudi e mezze fra picche e altre armi. Preporrei a ogni battaglia uno connestabole, quattro Centurioni e quaranta Capidieci; e di più un capo a’ Veliti ordinarj, con cinque Capidieci. Darei alle mille picche estraordinarie tre connestaboli, dieci Centurioni e cento Capidieci; a’ Veliti estraordinarj due connestaboli, cinque Centurioni e cinquanta Capidieci. Ordinerei dipoi un capo generale di tutto il battaglione. Vorrei che ciascuno connestabole avesse la bandiera e il suono. Sarebbe pertanto composto uno battaglione di dieci battaglie, di tremila scudati, di mille picche ordinarie, di mille estraordinarie, di cinquecento Veliti ordinarj, di cinquecento estraordinarj; e così verrebbero ad essere seimila fanti, tra quali sarebbero mille cinquecento Capidieci e, di più, quindici connestaboli con quindici suoni e quindici bandiere, cinquantacinque Centurioni, dieci capi de’ Veliti ordinarj, e uno capitano di tutto il battaglione con la sua bandiera e con il suo suono. E vi ho volentieri replicato questo ordine più volte, acciocchè poi, quando io vi mostrerò i modi dell’ordinare le battaglie e gli eserciti, voi non vi confondiate. Dico, pertanto, come quel re o quella Repubblica dovrebbe quegli suoi sudditi ch’ella volesse ordinare all’armi, ordinargli con queste armi e con queste parti, e fare nel suo paese tanti battaglioni di quanti fusse capace. E quando gli avesse ordinati, secondo la sopradetta distribuzione, volendogli esercitare negli ordini, basterebbe esercitargli battaglia per battaglia. E benchè il numero degli uomini di ciascuna di esse non possa per se fare forma d’un giusto esercito, nondimeno può ciascuno uomo imparare a fare quello, che s’appartiene a lui particolarmente; perchè negli eserciti si osserva due ordini: l’uno, quello che deggiono fare gli uomini in ciascuna battaglia, e l’altro, quello che dipoi debbe fare la battaglia quando è coll’altre in uno esercito. E quelli uomini che fanno bene il primo, facilmente osservano il secondo; ma, senza sapere quello, non si può mai alla disciplina del secondo pervenire. Possono, adunque, come ho detto, ciascuna di queste battaglie da per se imparare a tenere l’ordine delle file in ogni qualità di moto e di luogo e, dipoi, a sapere mettersi insieme, intendere il suono mediante il quale nelle zuffe si comanda; sapere cognoscere da quello, come i galeotti dal fischio, quanto abbiano a fare, o a stare saldi, o gire avanti, o tornare indietro, o dove rivolgere l’armi e il volto. In modo che, sappiendo tenere bene le file, talmente che nè luogo nè moto le disordinino, intendendo bene i comandamenti del capo mediante il suono e sappiendo di subito ritornare nel suo luogo, possono poi facilmente, come io dissi, queste battaglie, sendone ridotte assai insieme, imparare a fare quello che tutto il corpo loro è obligato, insieme con l’altre battaglie, in un esercito giusto operare. E perchè tale pratica universale ancora non è da istimare poco, si potrebbe una volta o due l’anno, quando fusse pace, ridurre tutto il battaglione insieme e dargli forma d’uno esercito intero, esercitandogli alcuni giorni come se si avesse a fare giornata, ponendo la fronte, i fianchi e i sussidi ne’ luoghi loro. E perchè uno capitano ordina il suo esercito alla giornata, o per conto del nimico che vede o per quello del quale senza vederlo dubita, si debbe esercitare il suo esercito nell’uno modo e nell’altro, e istruirlo in modo che possa camminare e, se il bisogno lo ricercasse, combattere, mostrando a’ tuoi soldati quando fussero assaltati da questa o da quella banda, come si avessero a governare. E quando lo istruisse da combattere contro al nimico che vedessono, mostrar loro come la zuffa s’appicca, dove si abbiano a ritirare sendo ributtati, chi abbi a succedere in luogo loro, a che segni, a che suoni, a che voci debbano ubbidire e praticarvegli in modo, con le battaglie e con gli assalti finti, ch’egli abbiano a disiderare i veri. Perchè lo esercito animoso non lo fa per essere in quello uomini animosi, ma lo esservi ordini bene ordinati; perchè se io sono de’ primi combattitori, e io sappia, sendo superato, dove io m’abbia a ritirare e chi abbia a succedere nelluogo mio, sempre combatterò con animo, veggendomi il soccorso propinquo. Se io sarò de’ secondi combattitori, lo essere spinti e ributtati i primi non mi sbigottirà, perchè io mi arò presupposto che possa essere e l’arò disiderato, per essere quello che dia la vittoria al mio padrone, e non sieno quegli. Questi esercizj sono necessarissimi dove si faccia uno esercito di nuovo; e dove sia lo esercito vecchio sono necessarj, perchè si vede come ancora che i Romani sapessero da fanciugli l’ordine degli eserciti loro, nondimeno quegli capitani, avanti che venissero al nimico, continuamente gli esercitavano in quegli. E Iòsafo nella sua Istoria dice che i continui esercizj degli eserciti Romani facevano che tutta quella turba che segue il campo per guadagni, era, nelle giornate, utile; perchè tutti sapevano stare negli ordini e combattere servando quelli. Ma negli eserciti d’uomini nuovi, o che tu abbi messi insieme per combattere allora, o che tu ne faccia ordinanza per combattere con il tempo, senza questi esercizi, così delle battaglie di per se, come di tutto l’esercito, è fatto nulla; perchè, sendo necessarj gli ordini, conviene con doppia industria e fatica mostrargli a chi non gli sa, che mantenergli a chi gli sa, come si vede che per mantenergli e per insegnargli molti capitani eccellenti si sono senza alcuno rispetto affaticati.

Cosimo. E’ mi pare che questo ragionamento vi abbia alquanto trasportato, perchè, non avendo voi ancora dichiarati i modi con i quali s’esercitano le battaglie, voi avete ragionato dell’esercito intero e delle giornate.

Fabrizio. Voi dite la verità; e veramente ne è stata cagione l’affezione che io porto a questi ordini, e il dolore che io sento veggendo che non si mettono in atto, nondimanco non dubitate che io tornerò a segno. Come io v’ho detto la prima importanza che è nell’esercizio, delle battaglie, è sapere tenere bene le file. Per fare questo è necessario esercitargli in quegli ordini che chiamano chiocciole. E perchè io vi dissi che una di queste battaglie debbe essere di quattrocento fanti armati d’armi gravi, io mi fermerò sopra questo numero. Deonsi adunque ridurre in ottanta file a cinque per fila. Di poi, andando o forte o piano, annodargli insieme e sciorli; il che come si faccia, si può dimostrare più con i fatti che con le parole. Di poi è meno necessario, perchè ciascuno che è pratico negli eserciti sa come questo ordine proceda; il quale non è buono ad altro che all’avvezzare i soldati a tenere le file. Ma vegnamo a mettere insieme una di queste battaglie. Dico che si dà loro tre forme principali. La prima, la più utile, è farla tutta massiccia e darle la forma di due quadri; la seconda è fare il quadro con la fronte cornuta; la terza è farla con uno vacuo in mezzo che chiamano piazza. Il modo del mettere insieme la prima forma può essere di due sorti. L’una è fare raddoppiare le file: cioè, che la seconda fila entri nella prima, la quarta nella terza, la sesta nella quinta, e così successive; tanto che, dove ell’erono ottanta file a cinque per fila, diventino quaranta file a dieci per fila. Di poi farle raddoppiare un’altra volta nel medesimo modo, commettendosi l’una fila nell’altra, e così restono venti file a venti uomini per fila. Questo fa due quadri in circa, perchè, ancora che sieno tanti uomini per un verso quanti per l’altro, nondimeno di verso le teste si congiungono insieme, che l’uno fianco tocca l’altro; ma per l’altro verso sono distanti almeno due braccia l’uno dall’altro, di qualità che il quadro è più lungo dalle spalle alla fronte, che dall’uno fianco all’altro. E perchè noi abbiamo oggi a parlare più volte delle parti davanti, di dietro e da lato di queste battaglie e di tutto l’esercito insieme, sappiate che, quando io dirò o testa o fronte, vorrò dire le parti dinanzi; quando dirò spalle, la parte di dietro; quando dirò fianchi, le parti da lato. I cinquanta Veliti ordinarj della battaglia non si mescolano con l’altre file, ma, formata che è la battaglia, si distendono per i fianchi di quella. l’altro modo di mettere insieme la battaglia è questo; e perchè egli è migliore che il primo, io vi voglio mettere davanti agli occhi appunto com’ella si debbe ordinare. Io credo che voi vi ricordiate di che numero d’uomini, di che capi ella è composta e di che armi armata. La forma adunque che debbe avere questa battaglia, è, come io dissi, di venti file a venti uomini per fila: cinque file di picche in fronte e quindici file di scudi a spalle; due Centurioni stieno nella fronte e due dietro alle spalle, i quali facciano l’ufficio di quegli che gli antichi chiamavano tergiduttori; il connestabole con la bandiera e con il suono stia in quello spazio che è tra le cinque file delle picche e le quindici degli scudi; de’ Capidieci, ne stia, sopr’ogni fianco di fila, uno, in modo che ciascuno abbia a canto i suoi uomini; quegli che saranno a mano manca, in sulla man destra; quelli che sieno a mano destra, in sulla man manca. Li cinquanta Veliti stieno a’ fianchi e a spalle della battaglia. A volere ora che, andando per l’ordinario i fanti, questa battaglia si metta insieme in questa forma, conviene ordinarsi così: fare di avere ridotti i fanti in ottanta file, a cinque per fila, come poco fa dicemmo, lasciando i Veliti o dalla testa o dalla coda, pure ch’egli stieno fuora di quest’ordine; e debbesi ordinare che ogni Centurione abbia dietro alle spalle venti file, e sia dietro a ogni Centurione immediate cinque file di picche, e il resto scudi. Il connestabole stia con il suono e con la bandiera in quello spazio che è tra le picche e gli scudi del secondo Centurione, e occupino i luoghi di tre scudati; degli Capidieci, venti ne stieno ne’ fianchi delle file del primo Centurione in sulla man sinistra, e venti ne stieno ne’ fianchi delle file dell’ultimo Centurione in sulla man destra. E avete ad intendere che il Capodieci che ha a guidare le picche, debbe avere la picca, e quegli che guidano gli scudi, deggiono avere l’armi simili. Ridotte adunque in questo ordine le file e volendo nel camminare ridurle in battaglia per fare testa, tu hai a fare che si fermi il primo Centurione con le prime venti file, ed il secondo seguiti di camminare e, girandosi in sulla man ritta, ne vada lungo i fianchi delle venti file ferme, tantochè si attesti con l’altro Centurione, dove si fermi ancora egli; e il terzo Centurione seguiti di camminare, pure girando in sulla man destra, e, lungo i fianchi delle file ferme, cammini tanto, che si attesti con gli altri due Centurioni: e, fermandosi ancora egli, l’altro Centurione seguiti con le sue file, pure piegando in sulla destra lungo i fianchi delle file ferme, tanto ch’egli arrivi alla testa degli altri, e allora si fermi; e subito due de’ Centurioni soli si partino dalla fronte e vadino a spalle della battaglia, la quale viene fatta in quel modo e con quello ordine appunto che poco fa ve la dimostrammo. I Veliti si distendino per i fianchi di essa, secondo che nel primo modo si dispose, il quale modo si chiama raddoppiargli per retta linea; questo si dice raddoppiargli per fianco. Quel primo modo è più facile, questo più ordinato e vien più appunto e meglio lo puoi a tuo modo correggere; perchè in quello conviene ubbidire al numero, perchè cinque ti fa dieci, dieci venti, venti quaranta; talchè, con il raddoppiare per diritto, tu non puoi fare una testa di quindici nè di venticinque, nè di trenta, nè di trentacinque, ma ti bisogna andare dove quel numero ti mena. Eppure occorre ogni dì, nelle fazioni particolari, che conviene fare testa con secento o ottocento fanti, in modo che il raddoppiare per linea retta ti disordinerebbe. Però mi piace più questo; e quella difficultà che vi è più, conviene con la pratica e con l’esercizio facilitarla.

Dicovi, adunque, com’egli importa più che cosa alcuna avere i soldati che si sappiano mettere negli ordini tosto; ed è necessario tenergli in queste battaglie, esercitarvegli dentro e fargli andare forte o innanzi o indietro, passare per luoghi difficili senza turbare l’ordine; perchè i soldati che sanno fare questo bene, sono soldati pratichi, e, ancora che non avessero mai veduti nimici in viso, si possono chiamare soldati vecchi. E al contrario, quegli che non sanno tenere questi ordini, se si fussero trovati in mille guerre, si deggiono sempre istimare soldati nuovi. Questo è quanto al mettergli insieme, quando sono nelle file piccole, camminando. Ma messi che sono, e poi, essendo rotti per qualche accidente che nasca o dal sito o dal nimico, a fare che in uno subito si riordinino, questa è la importanza e la difficultà e dove bisogna assai esercizio ed assai pratica, e dove gli antichi mettevano assai studio. È necessario pertanto fare due cose: prima, avere questa battaglia piena di contrassegni; l’altra, tenere sempre questo ordine: che quegli medesimi fanti stieno sempre in quelle medesime file. Verbigrazia, se uno ha cominciato a stare nella seconda, ch’egli stia dipoi sempre in quella; e non solamente in quella medesima fila, ma in quello medesimo luogo; a che osservare, come ho detto, sono necessarj gli assai contrassegni. In prima, è necessario che la bandiera sia in modo contrassegnata che, convenendo con l’altre battaglie, ella si conosca da loro. Secondo, che il connestabole e i Centurioni abbiano pennacchi in testa, differenti e conoscibili; e, quello che importa più, ordinare che si conoscano i Capidieci. A che gli antichi avevano tanta cura, che, non ch’altro, avevano scritto nella celata il numero, chiamandoli primo, secondo, terzo, quarto, ecc. E non erano ancora contenti a questo; che de’ soldati ciascuno aveva scritto nello scudo il numero della fila e il numero delluogo che in quella fila gli toccava. Sendo dunque gli uomini contrassegnati così e assuefatti a stare tra questi termini, è facil cosa, disordinati che fussono, tutti riordinarli subito; perchè, ferma che è la bandiera, i Centurioni e i Capidieci possono giudicare a occhio illuogo loro, e, ridottisi i sinistri da sinistra, i destri da destra con le distanze loro consuete, i fanti, guidati dalla regola loro e dalle differenze de’ contrassegni, possono essere subito ne’ luoghi propri; non altrimenti che, se tu scommetti le doghe d’una botte che tu abbi contrassegnata prima, con facilità grandissima la riordini; che non l’avendo contrassegnata, è impossibile a riordinarla. Queste cose con la diligenza e con l’esercizio s’insegnano tosto e tosto s’imparano, e, imparate, con difficultà si scordano, perchè gli uomini nuovi sono guidati da’ vecchi, e con il tempo una provincia con questi esercizj diventerebbe tutta pratica nella guerra. È necessario ancora insegnare loro voltarsi in un tempo e fare quando egli accaggia, de’ fianchi e delle spalle fronte, e della fronte fianchi e spalle. Il che è facilissimo, perchè basta che ogni uomo volti la sua persona verso quella parte che gli è comandato; e dove voltano il volto, quivi viene ad essere la fronte. Vero è che quando si voltano per fianco, gli ordini tornano fuora della proporzione loro, perchè dal petto alle spalle v’è poca distanza, e dall’un fianco all’altro v’è assai distanza; il che è tutto contro all’ordine ordinario delle battaglie. Però conviene che la pratica e la discrezione gli rassetti. Ma questo è poco disordine, perchè facilmente per loro medesimi vi rimediano. Ma quello che importa più, e dove bisogna più pratica, è quando una battaglia si vuole voltare tutta come s’ella fusse un corpo solido. Qui conviene avere gran pratica e gran discrezione, perchè, volendola girare, verbigrazia, in sulla man manca, bisogna che si fermi il corno manco e, quegli che sono più propinqui a chi sta fermo, camminino tanto adagio, che quegli che sono dritto non abbiano a correre; altrimenti ogni cosa si confonderebbe.

Ma perchè egli occorre sempre, quando uno esercito cammina da luogo a luogo, che le battaglie che non sono poste in fronte, hanno a combattere non per testa, ma o per fianco o a spalle, in modo che una battaglia ha in uno subito a fare del fianco o delle spalle testa, e volendo che simili battaglie in tale caso abbiano la proporzione loro, secondo che di sopra si è dimostro, è necessario che ell’abbiano le picche da quel fianco che abbia ad essere testa e i Capidieci, Centurioni e connestabole, a quello ragguaglio, ne’ luoghi loro, però, a volere fare questo, nel metterle insieme vi bisogna ordinare le ottanta file di cinque per fila, così: mettere tutte le picche nelle prime venti file, e, de’ Capidieci d’esse, metterne cinque nel primo luogo e cinque nell’ultimo; l’altre sessanta file, che vengono dietro, sono tutte di scudi; che vengono ad essere tre centurie. Vuolsi adunque che la prima e ultima fila d’ogni centuria sieno Capidieci; il connestabole con la bandiera e con il suono stia nel mezzo della prima centuria degli scudi i Centurioni in testa d’ogni centuria ordinati. Ordinati così, quando volessi che le picche venissono in sul fianco manco, voi gli avete a raddoppiare centuria per centuria dal fianco ritto, se volessi ch’elle venissero dal fianco ritto, voi le avete a raddoppiare dal manco. E così questa battaglia torna con le picche sopr’un fianco, con i Capidieci da testa e da spalle, con i Centurioni per testa e il connestabole nel mezzo. La quale forma tiene andando; ma, venendo il nimico e il tempo ch’ella voglia fare del fianco testa, non si ha se non a fare voltare il viso a tutti i soldati verso quel fianco dove sono le picche; e torna allora la battaglia con le file e con i capi in quel modo si è ordinata di sopra; perchè da’ Centurioni in fuora tutti sono ne’ luoghi loro, e i Centurioni subito e senza difficultà vi entrano. 

Ma quando ell’abbia, camminando per testa, a combattere a spalle, conviene ordinare le file in modo che, mettendole in battaglia, le picche vengano di dietro; e a fare questo non s’ha a tenere altro ordine se non che, dove, nello ordinare la battaglia, per l’ordinario ogni centuria ha cinque file di picche davanti, le abbia di dietro, e in tutte l’altre parti osservare l’ordine che io dissi prima.

Cosimo. Voi avete detto, se bene mi ricorda, che questo modo dello esercizio è per potere poi ridurre queste battaglie insieme in uno esercito, e che questa pratica serve a potere ordinarsi in quello. Ma s’egli occorresse che questi quattrocento cinquanta fanti avessono a fare una fazione separata, come gli ordineresti?

Fabrizio. Dee, chi gli guida, allora giudicare dove egli vuole collocare le picche, e quivi porle. Il che non repugna in parte alcuna all’ordine soprascritto; perchè, ancora che quello sia il modo che si osserva per fare la giornata insieme con l’altre battaglie, nondimeno non è regola che serve a tutti quegli modi nelli quali ti occorresse averti a maneggiare. Ma nel mostrarvi gli altri due modi, da me preposti, di ordinare le battaglie, sodisfarò ancora più alla domanda vostra; perchè o e’ non si usano mai, o e’ si usano quando una battaglia è sola e non in compagnia dell’altre. E per venire al modo di ordinarla con due corna, dico che tu dèi ordinare le ottanta file a cinque per fila in questo modo: porre là in mezzo uno Centurione, e, dopo lui, venticinque file che sieno di due picche in sulla sinistra e di tre scudi in sulla destra; e dopo le prime cinque, sieno posti nelle venti sequenti venti Capidieci; tutti tra le picche e gli scudi, eccetto che quelli che portano le picche, i quali possono stare con le picche. Dopo queste venticinque file così ordinate si ponga un altro Centurione: il quale abbia dietro a se quindici file di scudi. Dopo questi il connestabole in mezzo del suono e della bandiera; il quale ancora abbia dietro a se altre quindici file di scudi. Dopo queste si ponga il terzo Centurione; e abbia dietro a se venticinque file, in ognuna delle quali sieno tre scudi in sulla sinistra e due picche in sulla destra; e dopo le cinque prime file sieno venti Capidieci posti tra le picche e gli scudi. Dopo queste file sia il quarto Centurione. Volendo pertanto di queste file così ordinate fare una battaglia con due corna, si ha a fermare il primo Centurione con le venticinque file che gli sono dietro. Di poi si ha a muovere il secondo Centurione con le quindici file scudate che gli sono a spalle, e volgersi a mano ritta e, su per il fianco ritto delle venticinque file, andare tanto ch’egli arrivi alla quintadecima fila, e qui fermarsi. Di poi si ha a muovere il connestabole con le quindici file degli scudati che gli sono dietro, e, girando pure in sulla destra, su per il fianco destro delle quindici file mosse prima, cammini tanto ch’egli arrivi alla testa loro, e quivi si fermi. Di poi muova il terzo Centurione con le venticinque file e con il quarto Centurione che era dietro, e, girando pure in sulla ritta, cammini su per il fianco destro delle quindici file ultime degli scudati, e non si fermi quando è alla testa di quelle, ma seguiti di camminare, tanto che l’ultime file delle venticinque sieno al pari delle file di dietro. E, fatto questo, il Centurione che era capo delle prime quindici file degli scudati, si lievi donde era e ne vadia a spalle nello angulo sinistro. E così tornerà una battaglia di venticinque file ferme, a venti fanti per fila, con due corna, sopr’ogni canto della fronte uno, e ciascuno arà dieci file a cinque per fila, e resterà uno spazio tra le due corna, quanto tengono dieci uomini che volgano i fianchi l’uno all’altro. Sarà tra le due corna il capitano; in ogni punta di corno uno Centurione. Sarà ancora di dietro in ogni canto uno Centurione. Fieno due file di picche e venti Capidieci da ogni fianco. Servono queste due corna a tenere tra quelle l’artiglierie, quando questa battaglia ne avesse con seco, e i carriaggi. I Veliti hanno a stare lungo i fianchi sotto le picche. Ma a volere ridurre questa battaglia cornuta con la piazza, non si dee fare altro che, delle quindici file di venti per fila, prenderne otto e porle in sulla punta delle due corna: le quali allora di corna diventano spalle della piazza. In questa piazza si tengono i carriaggi; stavvi il capitano e la bandiera; ma non già l’artiglierie, le quali si mettono o nella fronte o lungo i fianchi. Questi sono i modi che si possono tenere da una battaglia, quando, sola, dee passare per i luoghi sospetti. Nondimeno la battaglia soda, senza corna e senza piazza è meglio. Pure, volendo assicurare i disarmati, quella cornuta è necessaria.  ‘‘FORMA DEL CAMMINARE’’

Fanno li Svizzeri ancora molte forme di battaglie; tra le quali ne fanno una a modo di croce, perchè, negli spazi che sono tra i rami di quella, tengono sicuri dall’urto de’ nimici i loro scoppiettieri. Ma perchè simili battaglie sono buone a combattere da per loro, e la intenzione mia è mostrare come più battaglie unite insieme combattono, non voglio affaticarmi altrimenti in dimostrarle.

Cosimo. E’ mi pare avere assai bene compreso il modo che si dee tenere a esercitare gli uomini in queste battaglie; ma, se mi ricorda bene, voi avete detto come, oltre alle dieci battaglie, voi aggiugnevi al battaglione mille picche estraordinarie e cinquecento Veliti estraordinarii. Questi non gli vorreste voi descrivere ed esercitare?

Fabrizio. Vorrei, e con diligenza grandissima. E le picche eserciterei almeno bandiera per bandiera, negli ordini delle battaglie, come gli altri; perchè di questi io mi servirei più che delle battaglie ordinarie in tutte le fazioni particolari, come è fare scorte, predare, e simili cose. Ma i Veliti gli eserciterei alle case senza ridurli insieme; perchè, sendo l’ufficio loro combattere rotti, non è necessario che convenghino con li altri negli esercizj comuni, perchè assai sarebbe esercitargli bene negli esercizj particolari. Deonsi adunque, come in prima vi dissi nè ora mi pare fatica replicarlo, fare esercitare i suoi uomini in queste battaglie, in modo che sappiano tenere le file, conoscere i luoghi loro, tornarvi subito quando o nimico o sito gli perturbi, perchè, quando si sa fare questo, facilmente s’impara poi illuogo che ha a tenere una battaglia e quale sia l’ufficio suo negli eserciti. E quando uno principe o una Repubblica durerà fatica e metterà diligenza in questi ordini e in queste esercitazioni, sempre avverrà che nel paese suo saranno buoni soldati; ed essi fieno superiori a’ loro vicini e saranno quegli che daranno e non riceveranno le leggi dagli altri uomini. Ma  come io vi ho detto, il disordine nel quale si vive fa che si straccurano e non si istimano queste cose; e però gli eserciti nostri non son buoni; e se pure ci fusse o capi o membra naturalmente virtuosi, non la possono dimostrare.

Cosimo. Che carriaggi vorreste voi che avesse ciascuna di queste battaglie?

Fabrizio. La prima cosa, io non vorrei che nè Centurione nè Capodieci avesse da ire a cavallo; e se il connestabole volesse cavalcare vorrei ch’egli avesse mulo e non cavalio. Permettere’gli bene due carriaggi e uno a qualunque Centurione e due ad ogni tre Capidieci, perchè tanti ne alloggiamo per alloggiamento, come nel suo luogo direno; talmente che ogni battaglia verrebbe avere trentasei carriaggi; i quali vorrei portassono di necessità le tende, i vasi da cuocere, scure e pali di ferro in sufficienza per fare gli alloggiamenti e, dipoi, se altro potessono, a commodità loro.

Cosimo. Io credo che i capi da voi ordinati in ciascuna di queste battaglie sieno necessarj; nondimeno io dubiterei che tanti comandatori non si confondessero.

Fabrizio. Cotesto sarebbe quando non si referissono a uno, ma, referendosi, fanno ordine; anzi senza essi è impossibile reggersi; perchè uno muro il quale da ogni parte inclini, vuole piuttosto assai puntegli e spessi, ancora che non così forti, che pochi, ancora che gagliardi, perchè la virtù d’uno solo non rimedia alla rovina discosto. E però conviene che negli eserciti, e tra ogni dieci uomini, sia uno di più vita, di più cuore o almeno di più autorità, il quale coll’animo, con le parole, con lo esemplo tenga gli altri fermi e disposti al combattere. E che queste cose da me dette sieno necessarie in uno esercito, come i capi, le bandiere, i suoni, si vede che noi l’abbiamo tutte ne’ nostri eserciti; ma niuna fa l’ufficio suo. Prima, i Capidieci, a volere che facciano quello per che sono ordinati, è necessario abbia come ho detto, ciascuno distinti i suoi uomini, alloggi con quegli, faccia le fazioni, stia negli ordini con quegli; perchè collocati ne’ luoghi loro sono come uno rigo e temperamento a mantenere le file diritte e ferme, ed è impossibile ch’elle disordinino o, disordinando, non si riduchino tosto ne’ luoghi loro. Ma noi oggi non ce ne serviamo ad altro che a dare loro più soldo che agli altri e a fare che facciano qualche fazione particolare. Il medesimo ne interviene delle bandiere, perchè si tengono piuttosto per fare bella una mostra, che per altro militare uso. Ma gli antichi se ne servivano per guida e per riordinarsi; perchè ciascuno, ferma che era la bandiera, sapeva illuogo che teneva presso alla sua bandiera e vi ritornava sempre. Sapeva ancora come, movendosi e stando quella, avevano a fermarsi o a muoversi. Però è necessario in uno esercito che vi sia assai corpi, e ogni corpo abbia la sua bandiera e la sua guida; perchè, avendo questo, conviene ch’egli abbia assai anime e, per consequente, assai vita. Deggiono adunque i fanti camminare secondo la bandiera e la bandiera muoversi secondo il suono; il quale suono, bene ordinato, comanda allo esercito; il quale, andando con i passi che rispondano a’ tempi di quello, viene a servare facilmente gli ordini. Onde che gli antichi avieno sufoli, pifferi e suoni modulati perfettamente; perchè, come chi balla procede con il tempo della musica e, andando con quella, non erra, così uno esercito, ubbidendo nel muoversi a quel suono, non si disordina. E però variavano il suono, secondo che volevano variare il moto e secondo che volevano accendere o quietare o fermare gli animi degli uomini. E come i suoni erano varj, così variamente gli nominavano. Il suono dorico generava costanzia, il frigio furia, donde che dicono che, essendo Alessandro a mensa e sonando uno il suono frigio, gli accese tanto l’animo, che misse mano all’armi. Tutti questi modi sarebbe necessario ritrovare; e quando questo fosse difficile, non si vorrebbe almeno lasciare indietro quegli che insegnassono ubbidire al soldato; i quali ciascuno può variare e ordinare a suo modo, pure che con la pratica assuefaccia gli orecchi de’ suoi soldati a conoscerli. Ma oggi di questo suono non se ne cava altro frutto in maggiore parte, che fare quel rumore.

Cosimo. Io disidererei intendere da voi, se mai con voi medesimo l’avete discorso, donde nasca tanta viltà e tanto disordine e tanta negligenza, in questi tempi, di questo esercizio.

Fabrizio. Io vi dirò volentieri quello che io ne pensi. Voi sapete come degli uomini eccellenti in guerra ne sono stati nominati assai in Europa, pochi in Affrica e meno in Asia. Questo nasce perchè queste due ultime parti del mondo hanno avuto uno principato o due, e poche republiche; ma l’Europa solamente ha avuto qualche Regno e infinite republiche. Gli uomini diventono eccellenti e mostrano la loro virtù, secondo che sono adoperati e tirati innanzi dal principe loro, o Repubblica o re che si sia. Conviene pertanto che, dove è assai potestadi, vi surga assai valenti uomini; dove ne è poche, pochi. In Asia si truova Nino, Ciro, Artaserse, Mitridate, e pochissimi altri che a questi facciano compagnia. In Affrica si nominano, lasciando stare quella antichità Egizia, Massinissa, Jugurta, e quegli capitani che dalla Repubblica cartaginese furono nutriti; i quali ancora, rispetto a quegli d’Europa, sono pochissimi; perchè in Europa sono gli uomini eccellenti senza numero, e tanti più sarebbero, se insieme con quegli si nominassono gli altri che sono stati dalla malignità del tempo spenti; perchè il mondo è stato più virtuoso dove sono stati più Stati che abbiano favorita la virtù o per necessità o per altra umana passione. Sursero adunque in Asia pochi uomini, perchè quella provincia era tutta sotto uno regno, nel quale, per la grandezza sua, stando esso la maggior parte del tempo ozioso, non poteva nascere uomini nelle faccende eccellenti. All’Affrica intervenne il medesimo; pure vi se ne nutrì più, rispetto alla Repubblica cartaginese. Perchè delle republiche esce più uomini eccellenti che de’ regni, perchè in quelle il più delle volte si onora la virtù, ne’ Regni si teme; onde ne nasce che nell’una gli uomini virtuosi si nutriscono, nell’altra si spengono. Chi considererà adunque la parte d’Europa, la troverrà essere stata piena di republiche e di principati, i quali, per timore che l’uno aveva dell’altro, erano constretti a tenere vivi gli ordini militari e onorare coloro che in quegli più si prevalevano. Perchè in Grecia, oltre al Regno de’ Macedoni, erano assai republiche, e in ciascuna di quelle nacquero uomini eccellentissimi. In Italia erano i Romani, i Sanniti, i Toscani, i Galli Cisalpini. La Francia e la Magna era piena di republiche e di principi; la Ispagna quel medesimo. E benchè a comparazione de’ Romani se ne nominino pochi altri, nasce dalla malignità degli scrittori, i quali seguitano la fortuna, e a loro il più delle volte basta onorare i vincitori. Ma egli non è ragionevole che tra i Sanniti e i Toscani, i quali combatterono cento cinquanta anni col popolo Romano prima che fussero vinti, non nascessero moltissimi uomini eccellenti. E così medesimamente in Francia e in Ispagna. Ma quella virtù che gli scrittori non celebrano negli uomini particolari, celebrano generalmente ne’ popoli, dove esaltano infino alle stelle l’ostinazione che era in quegli per difendere la libertà loro. Sendo adunque vero che, dove sia più imperj, surga più uomini valenti, seguita di necessità che, spegnendosi quelli, si spenga di mano in mano la virtù, venendo meno la cagione che fa gli uomini virtuosi. Essendo pertanto dipoi cresciuto l’imperio Romano, e avendo spente tutte le republiche e i principati d’Europa e d’Affrica e in maggior parte quelli dell’asia, non lasciò alcuna via alla virtù, se non Roma. Donde ne nacque che cominciarono gli uomini virtuosi ad essere pochi in Europa come in Asia; la quale virtù venne poi in ultima declinazione, perchè, sendo tutta la virtù ridotta in Roma, come quella fu corrotta, venne a essere corrotto quasi tutto il mondo; e poterono i popoli Sciti venire a predare quello Imperio il quale aveva la virtù d’altri spenta e non saputo mantenere la sua. E benchè poi quello Imperio, per la inundazione di quegli barbari, si dividesse in più parti, questa virtù non vi è rinata; l’una, perchè si pena un pezzo a ripigliare gli ordini quando sono guasti; l’altra, perchè il modo del vivere d’oggi, rispetto alla cristiana religione, non impone quella necessità al difendersi, che anticamente era; perchè, allora, gli uomini vinti in guerra o s’ammazzavano o rimanevano in perpetuo schiavi, dove menavano la loro vita miseramente; le terre vinte o si desolavano o ne erano cacciati gli abitatori, tolti loro i beni, mandati dispersi per il mondo; tantochè i superati in guerra pativano ogni ultima miseria. Da questo timore spaventati, gli uomini tenevano gli esercizj militari vivi e onoravano chi era eccellente in quegli. Ma oggi questa paura in maggior parte è perduta; de’ vinti, pochi se ne ammazza; niuno se ne tiene lungamente prigione, perchè con facilità si liberano. Le città, ancora ch’elle si sieno mille volte ribellate, non si disfanno; lasciansi gli uomini ne’ beni loro, in modo che il maggior male che si tema è una taglia; talmente che gli uomini non vogliono sottomettersi agli ordini militari e stentare tuttavia sotto quegli, per fuggire quegli pericoli de’ quali temono poco. Di poi queste provincie d’Europa sono sotto pochissimi capi, rispetto allora; perchè tutta la Francia obedisce a uno re, tutta l’Ispagna a un altro, l’Italia è in poche parti; in modo che le città deboli si difendono coll’accostarsi a chi vince, e gli stati gagliardi, per le cagioni dette, non temono una ultima rovina.

Cosimo. E’ si sono pur vedute molte terre andare a sacco, da venticinque anni in qua, e perdere de’ regni, il quale esemplo doverrebbe insegnare agli altri vivere e ripigliare alcuno degli ordini antichi.

Fabrizio. Egli è quello che voi dite; ma se voi noterete quali terre sono ite a sacco, voi non troverrete ch’elle sieno de’ capi degli stati, ma delle membra: come si vede che fu saccheggiata Tortona e non Milano, Capova e non Napoli, Brescia e non Vinegia, Ravenna e non Roma. I quali esempli non fanno mutare di proposito chi governa, anzi gli fa stare più nella loro opinione di potersi ricomperare con le taglie; e per questo non vogliono sottoporsi agli affanni degli esercizj della guerra, parendo loro, parte non necessario, parte uno viluppo che non intendono. Quegli altri che sono servi, a chi tali esempli doverrebbero fare paura, non hanno potestà di rimediarvi; e quegli principi, per avere perduto lo stato, non sono più a tempo, e quegli che lo tengono, non sanno e non vogliono; perchè vogliono senza alcuno disagio stare con la fortuna e non con la virtù loro, perchè veggono che, per esserci poca virtù, la fortuna governa ogni cosa, e vogliono che quella gli signoreggi, non essi signoreggiare quella. E che questo che io ho discorso sia vero, considerate la Magna; nella quale, per essere assai principati e republiche, vi è assai virtù, e tutto quello che nella presente milizia è di buono, depende dallo esemplo di quegli popoli; i quali, sendo tutti gelosi de’ loro stati, temendo la servitù, il che altrove non si teme, tutti si mantengono signori e onorati. Questo voglio che basti avere detto a mostrare le cagioni della presente viltà, secondo l’opinione mia. Non so se a voi pare il medesimo, o se vi fusse nata, per questo ragionare, alcuna dubitazione.

Cosimo. Niuna; anzi rimango di tutto capacissimo. Solo disidero, tornando alla materia principale nostra, intendere da voi come voi ordineresti i cavalli con queste battaglie, e quanti e come capitanati e come armati.

Fabrizio. E’ vi pare forse che io gli abbia lasciati indietro; di che non vi maravigliate, perchè io sono per due cagioni per parlarne poco: l’una, perchè il nervo e la importanza dello esercito è la fanteria; l’altra, perchè questa parte di milizia è meno corrotta che quella de’ fanti; perchè, s’ella non è più forte dell’antica, ell’è al pari. Pure si è detto, poco innanzi, del modo dello esercitargli. E quanto allo armargli, io gli armerei come al presente si fa, così i cavalli leggieri come gli uomini d’arme. Ma i cavalli leggieri vorrei che fussero tutti balestrieri con qualche scoppiettiere tra loro; i quali, benchè negli altri maneggi di guerra sieno poco utili, sono a questo utilissimi: di sbigottire i paesani e levargli di sopra uno passo che fusse guardato da loro, perchè più paura farà loro un scoppiettiere che venti altri armati. Ma, venendo al numero, dico che, avendo tolto a imitare la milizia Romana, io non ordinerei se non trecento cavalli utili per ogni battaglione; de’ quali vorrei ne fusse centocinquanta uomini d’arme e centocinquanta cavalli leggieri; e darei a ciascuna di queste parti uno capo, faccendo poi tra loro quindici Capidieci per banda, dando a ciascuna uno suono e una bandiera. Vorrei che ogni dieci uomini d’arme avessero cinque carriaggi e, ogni dieci cavalli leggieri, due; i quali, come quegli de’ fanti, portassero le tende, i vasi, e le scure e i pali e, sopravanzando, gli altri arnesi loro. Nè crediate che questo sia disordine, vedendo ora come gli uomini d’arme hanno alloro servizio quattro cavalli, perchè tale cosa è una corruttela; perchè si vede nella Magna quegli uomini d’arme essere soli con illoro cavallo; solo avere, ogni venti, uno carro che porta loro dietro le cose loro necessarie. I cavalli de’ Romani erano medesimamente soli; vero è che i triarj alloggiavano propinqui alla cavalleria, i quali erano obligati a somministrare aiuto a quella nel governo de’ cavalli; il che si può facilmente imitare da noi, come nel distribuire degli alloggiamenti vi si mostrerà. Quello, adunque, che facevano i Romani, e quello che fanno oggi i Tedeschi, possiamo fare ancora noi, anzi, non lo faccendo, si erra. Questi cavalli ordinati e descritti insieme col battaglione, si potrebbero qualche volta mettere insieme, quando si ragunassono le battaglie, e fare che tra loro facessero qualche vista d’assalto, il quale fussi più per riconoscersi insieme, che per altra necessità. Ma sia per ora detto di questa parte abbastanza; e discendiamo a dare forma a uno esercito per potere presentare la giornata al nimico e sperare di vincerla; la quale cosa è il fine per il quale si ordina la milizia e tanto studio si mette in quella.

LIBRO TERZO

Cosimo.

POichè noi mutiamo ragionamento, io voglio che si muti domandatore, perchè io non vorrei essere tenuto presuntuoso; il che sempre ho biasimato negli altri. Però io depongo la dittatura, e do questa autorità a chi la vuole di questi altri miei amici.

Zanobi. E’ ci era gratissimo che voi seguitassi; pure, poichè voi non volete, dite almeno quale di noi dee succedere nel luogo vostro.

Cosimo. Io voglio dare questo carico al signore.

Fabrizio. Io sono contento prenderlo, e voglio che noi seguitiamo il costume viniziano: che il più giovane parli prima, perchè, sendo questo esercizio da giovani, mi persuado che i giovani sieno più atti a ragionarne, come essi sono più pronti a esseguirlo.

Cosimo. Adunque tocca a voi, Luigi. E come io ho piacere di tale successore, così voi vi sodisfarete di tale domandatore. Però vi priego torniamo alla materia e non perdiamo più tempo.

Fabrizio. Io son certo che, a volere dimostrare bene come si ordina uno esercito per far la giornata, sarebbe necessario narrare come i Greci e i Romani ordinavano le schiere negli loro eserciti. Nondimeno, potendo voi medesimi leggiere e considerare queste cose mediante gli scrittori antichi, lascerò molti particolari indietro, e solo ne addurrò quelle cose che di loro mi pare necessario imitare, a volere ne’ nostri tempi dare alla milizia nostra qualche parte di perfezione. Il che farà che in uno tempo io mostrerò come uno esercito si ordini alla giornata, e come si affronti nelle vere zuffe, e come si possa esercitarlo nelle finte. Il maggiore disordine che facciano coloro che ordinano uno esercito alla giornata, è dargli solo una fronte e obligarlo a uno impeto e una fortuna. Il che nasce dallo avere perduto il modo che tenevano gli antichi a ricevere l’una schiera nell’altra; perchè, senza questo modo, non si può nè sovvenire a’ primi, nè difendergli, nè succedere nella zuffa in loro scambio; il che da’ Romani era ottimamente osservato. Per volere adunque mostrare questo modo, dico come i Romani avevano tripartita ciascuna Legione in Astati, Principi e Triarj; de’ quali, gli Astati erano messi nella prima fronte dell’esercito con gli ordini spessi e fermi; dietro a’ quali erano i Principi, ma posti con gli loro ordini più radi: dopo questi mettevano i Triarj, e con tanta radità di ordini che potessono, bisognando, ricevere tra loro i Principi e gli Astati. Avevano, oltre a questi, i funditori e i balestrieri e gli altri armati alla leggiera; i quali non stavano in questi ordini, ma li collocavano nella testa dell’esercito tra li cavalli e i fanti. Questi, adunque, leggiermente armati appiccavano la zuffa, e se vincevano, il che occorreva rade volte, essi seguivano la vittoria; se erano ributtati, si ritiravano per i fianchi dell’esercito o per gli intervalli a tale effetto ordinati, e si riducevano tra’ disarmati. Dopo la partita de’ quali venivano alle mani con il nemico gli Astati; i quali, se si vedevano superare, si ritiravano a poco a poco per la radità degli ordini tra’ Principi e, insieme con quegli, rinnovavano la zuffa. Se questi ancora erano sforzati, si ritiravano tutti nella radità degli ordini de’ Triarj e, tutti insieme, fatto uno mucchio, ricominciavano la zuffa; e se questi la perdevano, non vi era più rimedio, perchè non vi restava più modo a rifarsi. I cavalli stavano sopra alli canti dell’esercito, posti a similitudine di due ali e a uno corpo; e or combattevano con i cavalli, or sovvenivano i fanti, secondo che il bisogno lo ricercava. Questo modo di rifarsi tre volte è quasi impossibile a superare, perchè bisogna che tre volte la fortuna ti abbandoni e che il nemico abbia tanta virtù che tre volte ti vinca. I Greci non avevano con le loro Falangi questo modo di rifarsi; e benchè in quelle fussero assai capi e di molti ordini, nondimeno ne facevano un corpo o vero una testa. Il modo ch’essi tenevano in sovvenire l’uno l’altro era, non di ritirarsi l’uno ordine nell’altro, come i Romani, ma di entrare l’uno uomo nel luogo dell’altro. Il che facevano in questo modo: la loro Falange era ridotta in file; e pognamo che mettessono per fila cinquanta uomini, venendo poi con la testa sua contro al nemico; di tutte le file, le prime sei potevano combattere perchè le loro lance, le quali chiamavano Sarisse, erano sì lunghe che la sesta fila passava con la punta della sua lancia fuora della prima fila. Combattendo, adunque, se alcuno della prima o per morte o per ferite cadeva, subito entrava nel luogo suo quello che era di dietro nella seconda fila, e, nel luogo che rimaneva vòto della seconda, entrava quello che gli era dietro nella terza; e così successive in uno subito le file di dietro instauravano i difetti di quegli davanti; in modo che le file sempre restavano intere e niuno luogo era di combattitori vacuo, eccetto che la fila ultima, la quale si veniva consumando per non avere dietro alle spalle chi la instaurasse, in modo che i danni che pativano le prime file consumavano le ultime, e le prime restavano sempre intere; e così queste Falangi, per l’ordine loro, si potevano piuttosto consumare che rompere, perchè il corpo grosso le faceva più immobili. Usarono i Romani, nel principio, le Falangi, e instruirono le loro Legioni a similitudine di quelle. Dipoi non piacque loro questo ordine, e divisero le Legioni in più corpi, cioè in coorti e in manipuli; perchè giudicarono, come poco fa dissi, che quel corpo avesse più vita, che avesse più anime, e che fusse composto di più parti, in modo che ciascheduna per se stessa si reggesse. I battaglioni de’ Svizzeri usano in questi tempi tutti i modi della Falange, così nello ordinarsi grossi e interi, come nel sovvenire l’uno l’altro; e nel fare la giornata pongono i battaglioni l’uno a’ fianchi dell’altro; e, se li mettono dietro l’uno all’altro, non hanno modo che il primo, ritirandosi, possa essere ricevuto dal secondo; ma tengono, per potere sovvenire l’uno l’altro, quest’ordine: che mettono uno battaglione innanzi e un altro dietro a quello in sulla man ritta, tale che, se il primo ha bisogno d’aiuto, quello si può fare innanzi e soccorrerlo. Il terzo battaglione mettono dietro a questi, ma discosto un tratto di scoppietto. Questo fanno perchè, sendo quegli due ributtati, questo si possa fare innanzi, e abbiano spazio, e i ributtati e quel che si fa innanzi, a evitare l’urto l’uno dell’altro; perchè una moltitudine grossa non può essere ricevuta come un corpo piccolo, e però i corpi piccoli e distinti che erano in una Legione Romana si potevano collocare in modo che si potessono tra loro ricevere e l’uno l’altro con facilità sovvenire. E che questo ordine de’ Svizzeri non sia buono quanto lo antico Romano, lo dimostrano molti esempj delle Legioni Romane quando si azzuffarono con le Falangi Greche; e sempre queste furono consumate da quelle, perchè la generazione dell’armi, come io dissi dianzi, e questo modo di rifarsi, potè più che la solidità delle Falangi. Avendo, adunque, con questi esempj a ordinare uno esercito, mi è parso ritenere l’armi e i modi, parte delle Falangi Greche, parte delle Legioni Romane; e però io ho detto di volere in uno battaglione duemila picche, che sono l’armi delle Falangi Macedoniche, e tremila scudi con la spada, che sono l’armi de’ Romani. Ho diviso il battaglione in dieci battaglie, come i Romani; la Legione in dieci coorti. Ho ordinato i Veliti, cioè l’armi leggieri, per appiccare la zuffa come loro. E perchè così, come l’armi sono mescolate e participano dell’una e dell’altra nazione, ne participino ancora gli ordini, ho ordinato che ogni battaglia abbia cinque file di picche in fronte e il restante di scudi, per potere, con la fronte, sostenere i cavalli e entrare facilmente nelle battaglie de’ nemici a piè, avendo nel primo scontro le picche, come il nemico, le quali voglio mi bastino a sostenerlo, gli scudi, poi, a vincerlo. E se voi noterete la virtù di questo ordine, voi vedrete queste armi tutte fare interamente l’ufficio loro; perchè le picche sono utili contro a’ cavalli, e, quando vengono contro a’ fanti, fanno bene l’ufficio loro prima che la zuffa si ristringa; perchè, ristretta ch’ella è, diventano inutili. Donde che i Svizzeri, per fuggire questo inconveniente, pongono dopo ogni tre file di picche una fila d’alabarde; il che fanno per dare spazio alle picche, il quale non è tanto che basti. Ponendo adunque le nostre picche davanti e gli scudi di dietro, vengono a sostenere i cavalli e, nello appiccare la zuffa, aprono e molestano i fanti; ma poi che la zuffa è ristretta, e ch’elle diventerebbono inutili, succedono gli scudi e le spade; i quali possono in ogni strettura maneggiarsi.

Luigi. Noi aspettiamo ora con desiderio di intendere come voi ordinereste l’esercito a giornata con queste armi e con questi ordini.

Fabrizio. E io non voglio ora dimostrarvi altro che questo. Voi avete a intendere come in uno esercito Romano ordinario, il quale chiamavano esercito Consolare, non erano più che due Legioni di cittadini Romani, che erano secento cavalli e circa undicimila fanti. Avevano dipoi altrettanti fanti e cavalli, che erano loro mandati dagli amici e confederati loro; i quali dividevano in due parti e chiamavano, l’una, corno destro e, l’altra, corno sinistro; nè mai permettevano che questi fanti ausiliari passassero il numero de’ fanti delle Legioni loro; erano bene contenti che fusse più numero quello de’ cavalli. Con questo esercito, che era di ventiduemila fanti e circa duemila cavalli utili, faceva uno Consolo ogni fazione e andava a ogni impresa. Pure, quando bisognava opporsi a maggiori forze, raccozzavano due Consoli con due eserciti. Dovete ancora notare come, per l’ordinario, in tutte le tre azioni principali che fanno gli eserciti, cioè camminare, alloggiare e combattere, mettevano le Legioni in mezzo; perchè volevano che quella virtù in la quale più confidavano, fusse più unita, come nel ragionare di tutte queste azioni vi si mostrerà. Quelli fanti ausiliarj, per la pratica che avevano con i fanti Legionari, erano utili quanto quelli; perchè erano disciplinati come loro e però, nel simile modo, nello ordinare la giornata gli ordinavano. Chi adunque sa come i Romani disponevano una Legione nell’esercito a giornata, sa come lo disponevano tutto. Però, avendovi io detto come essi dividevano una Legione in tre schiere, e come l’una schiera riceveva l’altra, vi vengo ad avere detto come tutto lo esercito in una giornata si ordinava.

Volendo io pertanto ordinare una giornata a similitudine de’ Romani come quegli avevano due Legioni, io prenderò due battaglioni, e, disposti questi, si intenderà la disposizione di tutto un esercito; perchè nello aggiungere più genti non si arà a fare altro che ingrossare gli ordini. Io non credo che bisogni che io vi ricordi quanti fanti abbia uno battaglione, e come egli ha dieci battaglie, e che capi sieno per battaglia, e quali armi abbiano, e quali sieno le picche e i Veliti ordinarj e quali gli estraordinarj; perchè poco fa ve lo dissi distintamente, e vi ricordai lo mandassi alla memoria come cosa necessaria a volere intendere tutti gli altri ordini; e però io verrò alla dimostrazione dell’ordine senza replicare altro. E’ mi pare che le dieci battaglie d’uno battaglione si pongano nel sinistro fianco e, le dieci altre dell’altro, nel destro. Ordininsi quelle del sinistro in questo modo: pongansi cinque battaglie l’una allato all’altra nella fronte, in modo che tra l’una e l’altra rimanga uno spazio di quattro braccia che vengano a occupare, per larghezza, centoquarantuno braccio di terreno e, per la lunghezza, quaranta. Dietro a queste cinque battaglie ne porrei tre altre, discosto per linea retta dalle prime quaranta braccia; due delle quali venissero dietro per linea retta alle estreme delle cinque, e l’altra tenesse lo spazio di mezzo. E così verrebbero queste tre ad occupare per larghezza e per lunghezza il medesimo spazio che le cinque; ma, dove le cinque hanno tra l’una e l’altra una distanza di quattro braccia, queste l’arebbero di trentatrè. Dopo queste porrei le due ultime battaglie pure dietro alle tre, per linea retta e distanti, da quelle tre, quaranta braccia; e porrei ciascuna d’esse dietro alle estreme delle tre, tale che lo spazio che restasse tra l’una e l’altra sarebbe novantuno braccio. Terrebbero adunque tutte queste battaglie così ordinate, per larghezza, centoquarantuno braccio e, per lunghezza, dugento. Le picche estraordinarie distenderei lungo i fianchi di queste battaglie dal lato sinistro, discosto venti braccia da quelle, faccendone centoquarantatrè file a sette per fila; in modo ch’elle fasciassono con la loro lunghezza tutto il lato sinistro delle dieci battaglie, nel modo da me detto, ordinate; e ne avanzerebbe quaranta file per guardare i carriaggi e i disarmati che rimanessono nella coda dell’esercito, distribuendo i Capidieci e i Centurioni ne’ luoghi loro; e degli tre Connestabili ne metterei uno nella testa, l’altro nel mezzo, il terzo nell’ultima fila, il quale facesse l’ufficio del tergiduttore; chè così chiamavano gli antichi quello che era proposto alle spalle dell’esercito. Ma, ritornando alla testa dell’esercito, dico come io collocherei appresso alle picche estraordinarie i Veliti estraordinarj, che sapete che sono cinquecento, e darei loro uno spazio di quaranta braccia. A lato a questi, pure in sulla man manca, metterei gli uomini d’arme, e vorrei avessero uno spazio di centocinquanta braccia. Dopo questi, i cavalli leggieri, a’ quali darei il medesimo spazio che alle genti d’arme. I Veliti ordinarj lascerei intorno alle loro battaglie, i quali stessono in quegli spazi che io pongo tra l’una battaglia e l’altra, che sarebbero come ministri di quelle, se già egli non mi paresse da metterli sotto le picche estraordinarie; il che farei, o no, secondo che più a proposito mi tornasse. Il capo generale di tutto il battaglione metterei in quello spazio che fusse tra il primo e il secondo ordine delle battaglie, ovvero nella testa e in quello spazio che è tra l’ultima battaglia delle prime cinque e le picche estraordinarie, secondo che più a proposito mi tornasse, con trenta o quaranta uomini intorno, scelti e che sapessono per prudenza esseguire una commissione e per fortezza sostenere uno impeto; e fusse ancora esso in mezzo del suono e della bandiera. Questo è l’ordine col quale io disporrei uno battaglione nella parte sinistra, che sarebbe la disposizione della metà dell’esercito; e terrebbe, per larghezza, cinquecento undici braccia e, per lunghezza, quanto di sopra si dice, non computando lo spazio che terrebbe quella parte delle picche estraordinarie che facessono scudo a’ disarmati, che sarebbe circa cento braccia. L’altro battaglione disporrei sopra il destro canto, in quel modo appunto che io ho disposto quello del sinistro, lasciando dall’uno battaglione all’altro uno spazio di trenta braccia, nella testa del quale spazio porrei qualche carretta di artiglieria, dietro alle quali stesse il capitano generale di tutto l’esercito e avesse intorno, con il suono e con la bandiera capitana, dugento uomini almeno, eletti, a piè la maggior parte, tra’ quali ne fusse dieci, o più, atti a esseguire ogni comandamento; e fusse in modo a cavallo e armato, che potesse essere e a cavallo e a piè, secondo che il bisogno ricercasse. L’artiglierie dell’esercito, bastano dieci cannoni per la espugnazione delle terre, che non passassero cinquanta libbre di portata; de’ quali in campagna mi servirei più per la difesa degli alloggiamenti che per fare giornata; l’altra artiglieria tutta fusse piuttosto di dieci che di quindici libbre di portata. Questa porrei innanzi alla fronte di tutto l’esercito, se già il paese non stesse in modo che io la potessi collocare per fianco in luogo sicuro, dov’ella non potesse dal nemico essere urtata.  

Questa forma d’esercito così ordinato può tenere nel combattere l’ordine delle Falangi e l’ordine delle Legioni Romane; perchè nella fronte sono picche, sono tutti i fanti ordinati nelle file, in modo che, appiccandosi col nemico e sostenendolo, possono ad uso delle Falangi ristorare le prime file con quelli di dietro. Dall’altra parte, se sono urtati in modo che fieno necessitati rompere gli ordini e ritirarsi, possono entrare negli intervalli delle seconde battaglie che hanno dietro, e unirsi con quelle, e di nuovo, fatto uno mucchio, sostenere il nemico e combatterlo. E quando questo non basti, possono nel medesimo modo ritirarsi la seconda volta, e la terza combattere; sì che in questo ordine, quanto al combattere, ci è da rifarsi e secondo il modo Greco e secondo il Romano. Quanto alla fortezza dell’esercito, non si può ordinare più forte; perchè l’uno e l’altro corno è munitissimo e di capi e di armi, nè gli resta debole altro che la parte di dietro de’ disarmati; e quella ha ancora fasciati i fianchi dalle picche estraordinarie. Nè può il nemico da alcuna parte assaltarlo che non lo truovi ordinato; e la parte di dietro non può essere assaltata, perchè non può essere nemico che abbia tante forze che equalmente ti possa assalire da ogni banda; perchè, avendole, tu non ti hai a mettere in campagna seco. Ma quando fusse il terzo più di te e bene ordinato come te, se si indebolisce per assaltarti in più luoghi, una parte che tu ne rompa, tutto va male. Da’ cavalli, quando fussono più che i tuoi, sei sicurissimo; perchè gli ordini delle picche che ti fasciano, ti difendano da ogni impeto di quegli, quando bene i tuoi cavalli fussero ributtati. I capi, oltre a questo, sono disposti in lato che facilmente possono comandare e ubbidire. Gli spazi che sono tra l’una battaglia e l’altra e tra l’uno ordine e l’altro, non solamente servono a potere ricevere l’uno l’altro, ma ancora a dare luogo a’ mandati che andassono e venissono per ordine del capitano. E com’io vi dissi prima, i Romani avevano per esercito circa ventiquattromila uomini, così debbe essere questo; e come il modo del combattere e la forma dell’esercito gli altri soldati lo prendevano dalle Legioni, così quelli soldati che voi aggiugneste agli due battaglioni vostri avrebbero a prendere la forma e ordine da quelli. Delle quali cose avendone posto uno esemplo, è facil cosa imitarlo; perchè, accrescendo o due altri battaglioni all’esercito, o tanti soldati degli altri quanti sono quegli, egli non si ha a fare altro che duplicare gli ordini e, dove si pose dieci battaglie nella sinistra parte, porvene venti, o ingrossando o distendendo gli ordini secondo che il luogo o il nemico ti comandasse.

Luigi. Veramente, signore, io mi immagino in modo questo esercito, che già lo veggo, e ardo d’uno desiderio di vederlo affrontare. E non vorrei, per cosa del mondo, che voi diventassi Fabio Massimo, faccendo pensiero di tenere a bada il nemico e differire la giornata, perchè io direi peggio di voi che il popolo Romano non diceva di quello.

Fabrizio. Non dubitate. Non sentite voi l’artiglierie? Le nostre hanno già tratto, ma poco offeso il nemico; e i Veliti estraordinarj escono de’ luoghi loro insieme con la cavalleria leggiere, e più sparsi e con maggiore furia e maggior grida che possono, assaltano il nemico; l’artiglieria del quale ha scarico una volta e ha passato sopra la testa de’ nostri fanti senza fare loro offensione alcuna. E perch’ella non possa trarre la seconda volta, vedete i Veliti e i cavalli nostri che l’hanno già occupata, e che i nemici, per difenderla, si sono fatti innanzi; talchè quella degli amici e nemici non può più fare l’ufficio suo. Vedete con quanta virtù combattono i nostri, e con quanta disciplina, per lo esercizio che ne ha fatto loro fare abito e per la confidenza ch’egli hanno nell’esercito; il quale vedete che, col suo passo, e con le genti d’arme allato, cammina ordinato per appiccarsi con l’avversario. Vedete l’artiglierie nostre che, per dargli luogo e lasciargli lo spazio libero, si sono ritirate per quello spazio donde erano usciti i Veliti. Vedete il capitano che gli inanimisce e mostra loro la vittoria certa. Vedete che i Veliti ed i cavalli leggieri si sono allargati e ritornati ne’ fianchi dell’esercito, per vedere se possono per fianco fare alcuna ingiuria alli avversarj. Ecco che si sono affrontati gli eserciti. Guardate con quanta virtù egli hanno sostenuto lo impeto de nemici, e con quanto silenzio, e come il capitano comanda agli uomini d’arme che sostengano e non urtino e dall’ordine delle fanterie non si spicchino. Vedete come i nostri cavalli leggieri sono iti a urtare una banda di scoppettieri nemici che volevano ferire per fianco, e come i cavalli nemici gli hanno soccorsi: talchè, rinvolti tra l’una e l’altra cavalleria, non possono trarre e ritiransi dietro alle loro battaglie. Vedete con che furia le picche nostre si affrontano, e come i fanti sono già sì propinqui l’uno all’altro, che le picche non si possono più maneggiare; dimodochè, secondo la disciplina imparata da noi, le nostre picche si ritirano a poco a poco tra gli scudi. Guardate come, in questo tanto, una grossa banda d’uomini d’arme, nemici, hanno spinti gli uomini d’arme nostri dalla parte sinistra, e come i nostri, secondo la disciplina, si sono ritirati sotto le picche estraordinarie, e, con lo aiuto di quelle avendo rifatto testa, hanno ributtati gli avversari e morti buona parte di loro. Intanto tutte le picche ordinarie delle prime battaglie si sono nascose tra gli ordini degli scudi, e lasciata la zuffa agli scudati; i quali guardate con quanta virtù, sicurtà e ozio ammazzano il nemico. Non vedete voi quanto, combattendo, gli ordini sono ristretti, che a fatica possono menare le spade? Guardate con quanta furia i nemici muoiono. Perchè, armati con la picca e con la loro spada, inutile l’una per essere troppo lunga, l’altra per trovare il nemico troppo armato, in parte cascano feriti o morti, in parte fuggono. Vedetegli fuggire dal destro canto; fuggono ancora dal sinistro, ecco che la vittoria è nostra. Non abbiamo noi vinto una giornata felicissimamente? Ma con maggiore felicità si vincerebbe, se mi fusse concesso il metterla in atto. E vedete che non è bisognato valersi nè del secondo nè del terzo ordine; che gli è bastata la nostra prima fronte a superargli. In questa parte io non ho che dirvi altro, se non risolvere se alcuna dubitazione vi nasce.

Luigi. Voi avete con tanta furia vinta questa giornata, che io ne resto tutto ammirato e in tanto stupefatto, che io non credo potere bene esplicare se alcuno dubbio mi resta nell’animo. Pure, confidandomi nella vostra prudenza, piglierò animo a dire quello che io intendo. Ditemi prima: perchè non facesti voi trarre le vostre artiglierie più che una volta? E perchè subito le facesti ritirare dentro all’esercito, nè poi ne facesti menzione? Parvemi ancora che voi poneste l’artiglierie del nemico alte e ordinassile a vostro modo; il che può molto bene essere. Pure, quando egli occorresse, che credo ch’egli occorrà spesso, che percuotano le schiere, che rimedio ne date? E poichè io mi sono cominciato dalle artiglierie, io voglio fornire tutta questa domanda, per non ne avere a ragionare più. Io ho sentito a molti spregiare l’armi e gli ordini degli eserciti antichi, arguendo come oggi potrebbono poco, anzi tutti quanti sarebbero inutili, rispetto al furore delle artiglierie; perchè queste rompono gli ordini e passono l’armi in modo, che pare loro pazzia fare uno ordine che non si possa tenere, e durare fatica a portare an’arme che non ti possa difendere.

Fabrizio. Questa domanda vostra ha bisogno, perch’ella ha assai capi, d’una lunga risposta. Egli è vero che io non feci tirare l’artiglieria più che una volta, e ancora di quella una stetti in dubbio. La cagione è, perchè egli importa più a uno guardare di non essere percosso, che non importa percuotere il nemico. Voi avete a intendere che, a volere che an’artiglieria non ti offenda, è necessario o stare dov’ella non ti aggiunga, o mettersi dietro a uno muro o dietro a uno argine. Altra cosa non è che la ritenga, ma bisogna ancora che l’uno e l’altro sia fortissimo. Quelli capitani che si riducono a fare giornata, non possono stare dietro a’ muri o agli argini, nè dove essi non sieno aggiunti. Conviene adunque loro, poichè non possono trovare uno modo che gli difenda, trovarne uno per il quale essi sieno meno offesi; nè possono trovare altro modo che preoccuparla subito. Il modo del preoccuparla è andare a trovarla tosto e rotto, non adagio e in mucchio; perchè, con la prestezza, non se le lascia raddoppiare il colpo e, per la radità, può meno numero d’uomini offendere. Questo non può fare una banda di gente ordinata, perchè, s’ella cammina ratta, ella si disordina; s’ella va sparsa, non dà quella fatica al nemico di romperla, perchè si rompe per se stessa. E però io ordinai l’esercito in modo che potesse fare l’una cosa e l’altra; perchè, avendo messo nelle sue corna mille Veliti, ordinai che, dopo che le nostre artiglierie avessono tratto, uscissero insieme con la cavalleria leggiere a occupare l’artiglierie nemiche. E però non feci ritrarre l’artiglieria mia, per non dare tempo alla nemica; perchè e’ non si poteva dare spazio a me e torlo ad altri. E per quella cagione che io non la feci trarre la seconda volta, fu per non lasciare trarre la prima, acciocchè, anche la prima volta, la nemica non potesse trarre. Perchè, a volere che l’artiglieria nemica sia inutile, non è altro rimedio che assaltarla; perchè, se i nemici l’abbandonano, tu la occupi; se la vogliono difendere, bisogna se la lascino dietro; in modo che, occupata da’ nemici e dagli amici, non può trarre. Io crederrei che senza esempj queste ragioni vi bastassero; pure, potendone dare degli antichi, lo voglio fare. Ventidio venendo a giornata con li Parti, la virtù de’ quali in maggior parte consisteva negli archi e nelle saette, gli lasciò quasi venire sotto i suoi alloggiamenti, avanti che traesse fuora l’esercito; il che solamente fece per poterli tosto occupare e non dare loro spazio a trarre. Cesare in Francia referisce che, nel fare una giornata con gli nemici, fu con tanta furia assaltato da loro, che i suoi non ebbero tempo a trarre i dardi secondo la consuetudine Romana. Pertanto si vede che, a volere che una cosa che tira discosto, sendo alla campagna, non ti offenda, non ci è altro rimedio che, con quanta più celerità si può, occuparla. Un’altra cagione ancora mi moveva a fare senza trarre l’artiglieria, della quale forse voi vi riderete; pure io non giudico ch’ella sia da spregiarla. E’ non è cosa che facci maggiore confusione in uno esercito che impedirgli la vista; onde che molti gagliardissimi eserciti sono stati rotti, per essere loro stato impedito il vedere o dalla polvere o dal sole. Non è ancora cosa che più impedisca la vista che il fumo che fa l’artiglieria nel trarla; però io crederrei che fusse più prudenza lasciare accecarsi il nemico da se stesso, che volere tu, cieco, andarlo a trovare. Però o io non la trarrei, o, perchè questo non sarebbe approvato, rispetto alla riputazione che ha l’artiglieria, io la metterei in su’ corni dell’esercito, acciocchè, traendola, con il fumo ella non accecasse la fronte di quello; che è la ‘mportanza delle mie genti. E che lo impedire la vista al nemico sia cosa utile, se ne può addurre per esemplo Epaminonda; il quale, per accecare l’esercito nemico che veniva a fare seco giornata, fece correre i suoi cavalli leggieri innanzi alla fronte de’ nemici, perchè levassono alta la polvere e gli impedissono la vista; il che gli dette vinta la giornata. Quanto al parervi che io abbia guidati i colpi delle artiglierie a mio modo, faccendogli passare sopra la testa de’ fanti, vi rispondo che sono molte più le volte, e senza comparazione, che l’artiglierie grosse non percuotono le fanterie, che quelle ch’elle percuotono; perchè la fanteria è tanto bassa e quelle sono sì difficili a trattare, che, ogni poco che tu l’alzi, elle passano sopra la testa de’ fanti; e se l’abbassi, danno in terra, e il colpo non perviene a quegli. Salvagli ancora la inequalità del terreno, perchè ogni poco di macchia o di rialto che sia tra’ fanti e quelle, le impedisce. E quanto a’ cavalli, e massime quegli degli uomini d’arme, perchè hanno a stare più stretti che i leggieri, e per essere più alti possono essere meglio percossi, si può, infino che l’artiglierie abbiano tratto, tenergli nella coda dell’esercito. Vero è che assai più nuocono gli scoppietti e l’artiglierie minute, che quelle; alle quali è il maggiore rimedio venire alle mani tosto; e se nel primo assalto ne muore alcuno, sempre ne morì; e uno buono capitano e uno buono esercito non ha a temere uno danno che sia particolare, ma uno generale; ed imitare i Svizzeri, i quali non schifarono mai giornata sbigottiti dalle artiglierie; anzi puniscono di pena capitale quegli che per paura di quelle o si uscissero della fila o facessero con la persona alcuno segno di timore. Io le feci, tratto ch’elle ebbero, ritirare nell’esercito, perch’elle lasciassero il passo libero alle battaglie. Non ne feci più menzione, come di cosa inutile, appiccata che è la zuffa. Voi avete ancora detto che, rispetto alla furia di questo instrumento, molti giudicano l’armi e gli ordini antichi essere inutili; e pare, per questo vostro parlare, che i moderni abbiano trovati ordini e armi che contro all’artiglieria sieno utili. Se voi sapete questo, io arò caro che voi me lo insegniate, perchè infino a quì non ce ne so io vedere alcuno, nè credo se ne possa trovare. In modo che io vorrei intendere da cotestoro, per quali cagioni i soldati a piè de’ nostri tempi portano il petto o il corsaletto di ferro e quegli a cavallo vanno tutti coperti d’arme; perchè, poi che dannano l’armare antico come inutile rispetto alle artiglierie, doverrebbero fuggire ancora queste. Vorrei intendere anche per che cagione i Svizzeri, a similitudine degli antichi ordini, fanno una battaglia stretta di sei o ottomila fanti, e per quale cagione tutti gli hanno imitati, portando questo ordine quel medesimo pericolo, per conto dell’artiglierie, che si porterebbono quegli altri che dell’antichità si imitassero. Credo che non saprebbero che si rispondere; ma se voi ne dimandassi i soldati che avessero qualche giudicio, risponderebbero, prima, che vanno armati, perchè, sebbene quelle armi non gli difendono dalle artiglierie, gli difendono dalle balestre, dalle picche, dalle spade, da’ sassi e da ogni altra offesa che viene da’ nemici. Risponderebbero ancora che vanno stretti insieme come i Svizzeri, per potere più facilmente urtare i fanti, per potere sostenere meglio i cavalli e per dare più difficultà al nemico a rompergli. In modo che si vede che i soldati hanno a temere molte altre cose oltre alle artiglierie, dalle quali cose con l’armi e con gli ordini si difendono. Di che ne seguita che, quanto meglio armato è uno esercito e quanto ha gli ordini suoi più serrati e più forti, tanto è più sicuro. Tale che, chi è di quella opinione che voi dite, conviene o che sia di poca prudenza, o che a queste cose abbia pensato molto poco; perchè, se noi veggiamo che una minima parte del modo dello armare antico che si usa oggi, che è la picca, è una minima parte di quegli ordini, che sono i battaglioni de’ Svizzeri, ci fanno tanto bene e porgono agli eserciti nostri tanta fortezza, perchè non abbiamo noi a credere che l’altre armi e gli altri ordini che si sono lasciati, sieno utili? dipoi, se noi non abbiamo riguardo all’artiglieria nel metterci stretti insieme come i Svizzeri, quali altri ordini ci possono fare più temere di quella? Con ciò sia cosa che niuno ordine può fare che noi temiamo tanto quella, quanto quegli che stringono gli uomini insieme. Oltre a questo, se non mi sbigottisce l’artiglieria de’ nemici nel pormi col campo a una terra dov’ella mi offende con più sua sicurtà, non la potendo io occupare per essere difesa dalle mura, ma solo col tempo con la mia artiglieria impedire di modo ch’ella può raddoppiare i colpi a suo modo, , perchè la ho io a temere in campagna dove io la posso tosto occupare? Tanto che io vi conchiudo questo: che l’artiglierie, secondo l’opinione mia, non impediscono che non si possano usare gli antichi modi e mostrare l’antica virtù. E se io non avessi parlato altra volta con voi di questo instrumento, mi vi distenderei più; ma io mi voglio rimettere a quello che allora ne dissi.

Luigi. Noi possiamo avere inteso benissimo quanto voi ne avete circa l’artiglierie discorso; e, in somma, mi pare abbiate mostro che lo occuparle prestamente sia il maggiore rimedio si abbia con quelle, sendo in campagna e avendo uno esercito allo incontro. Sopra che mi nasce una dubitazione: perchè mi pare che il nemico potrebbe collocarle in lato, nel suo esercito, ch’elle vi offenderebbero, e sarebbono in modo guardate da’ fanti, ch’elle non si potrebbero occupare. Voi avete, se bene mi ricordo, nello ordinare lo esercito vostro a giornata, fatto intervalli di quattro braccia dall’una battaglia all’altra; fatto di venti quegli che sono dalle battaglie alle picche estraordinarie. Se il nemico ordinasse l’esercito a similitudine del vostro, e mettesse l’artiglierie bene dentro in quegli intervalli, io credo che di quivi elle vi offenderebbero con grandissima sicurtà loro, perchè non si potrebbe entrare nelle forze de’ nemici a occuparle.

Fabrizio. Voi dubitate prudentissimamente, e io mi ingegnerò o di risolvervi il dubbio o di porvi il rimedio. Io vi ho detto che continuamente queste battaglie, o per lo andare o per il combattere, sono in moto e sempre, per natura, si vengono a ristringere; in modo che, se voi fate gli intervalli di poca larghezza dove voi mettete l’artiglierie, in poco tempo son ristretti in modo che l’artiglieria non potrà più fare l’ufficio suo; se voi gli fate larghi per fuggire questo pericolo, voi incorrerete in uno maggiore; che voi per quegli intervalli non solamente date commodità al nemico di occuparvi l’artiglieria, ma di rompervi. Ma voi avete a sapere ch’egli è impossibile tenere l’artiglierie tra le schiere, massime quelle che vanno in sulle carrette, perchè l’artiglierie camminano per uno verso e traggono per l’altro; dimodochè, avendo a camminare e trarre, è necessario, innanzi al trarre, si voltino e, per voltarsi, vogliono tanto spazio che cinquanta carri d’artiglieria disordinerebbono ogni esercito. Però è necessario tenerle fuora delle schiere, dov’elle possono essere combattute nel modo che poco fa dimostrammo. Ma poniamo ch’elle vi si potessono tenere e che si potesse trovare una via di mezzo, e di qualità che, ristringendosi, non impedisse l’artiglieria e non fusse sì aperta ch’ella desse la via al nemico; dico che ci si rimedia facilmente col fare all’incontro intervalli nell’esercito tuo che dieno la via libera a’ colpi di quella; e così verrà la furia sua ad essere vana. Il che si può fare facilissimamente, perchè, volendo il nemico che l’artiglieria sua stia sicura, conviene ch’egli la ponga dietro nell’ultima parte degli intervalli; in modo che i colpi di quella, a volere che non offendano i suoi proprj, conviene passino per una linea retta e per quella medesima, sempre; e però col dare loro luogo, facilmente si possono fuggire; perchè questa è una regola generale: che a quelle cose le quali non si possono sostenere, si ha a dare la via, come facevano gli antichi a’ liofanti e a’ carri falcati. Io credo, anzi sono più che certo, che vi pare che io abbia acconcia e vinta una giornata a mio modo; nondimeno io vi replico questo, quando non basti quanto ho detto infino a quì, che sarebbe impossibile che uno esercito, così ordinato e armato, non superasse nel primo scontro ogni altro esercito che si ordinasse come si ordinano gli eserciti moderni. I quali il più delle volte non fanno se non una fronte, non hanno scudi e sono di qualità disarmati, che non possono difendersi dal nemico propinquo; ed ordinansi in modo che, se mettono le loro battaglie per fianco l’una all’altra, fanno l’esercito sottile; se le mettono dietro l’una all’altra, non avendo modo a ricevere l’una l’altra, lo fanno confuso e atto ad essere facilmente perturbato. E benchè essi pongano tre nomi agli loro eserciti e li dividano in tre schiere, antiguardo, battaglia e retroguardo, nondimeno non se ne servono ad altro che a camminare e a distinguere gli alloggiamenti; ma nelle giornate tutti gli obligano a uno primo impeto e a una prima fortuna.

Luigi. Io ho notato ancora, nel fare la vostra giornata, come la vostra cavalleria fu ributtata da’ cavalli nemici, donde ch’ella si ritirò dalle picche estraordinarie; donde nacque che, con l’aiuto di quelle, sostenne e ripinse i nemici indietro. Io credo che le picche possano sostenere i cavalli, come voi dite, ma in uno battaglione grosso e sodo, come fanno i Svizzeri; ma voi nel vostro esercito avete per testa cinque ordini di picche e, per fianco, sette, in modo che io non so come si possano sostenergli.

Fabrizio. Ancora che io v’abbia detto come sei file si adoperavano nelle Falangi di Macedonia ad un tratto, nondimeno voi avete a intendere che uno battaglione de’ Svizzeri, se fusse composto di mille file, non ne può adoperare se non quattro o, al più, cinque; perchè le picche sono lunghe nove braccia; uno braccio e mezzo è occupato dalle mani; donde alla prima fila resta libero sette braccia e mezzo di picca. La seconda fila, oltre a quello ch’ella occupa con mano, ne consuma uno braccio e mezzo nello spazio che resta tra l’una fila e l’altra; di modo che non resta di picca utile se non sei braccia. Alla terza fila, per queste medesime ragioni, ne resta quattro e mezzo; alla quarta tre, alla quinta uno braccio e mezzo. L’altre file, per ferire, sono inutili, ma servono a instaurare queste prime file, come avemo detto, e a fare come uno barbacane a quelle cinque. Se adunque cinque delle loro file possono reggere i cavalli, perchè non gli possono reggere cinque delle nostre, alle quali ancora non manca file dietro che le sostengano e facciano loro quel medesimo appoggio, benchè non abbiano picche come quelle? E quando le file delle picche estraordinarie che sono poste ne’ fianchi, vi paressono sottili, si potrebbe ridurle in uno quadro e porle per fianco alle due battaglie che io pongo nell’ultima schiera dell’esercito; dal quale luogo potrebbono facilmente tutte insieme favorire la fronte e le spalle dell’esercito e prestare aiuto a’ cavalli, secondo che il bisogno lo ricercasse.

Luigi. Useresti voi sempre questa forma di ordine, quando voi voleste fare giornata?

Fabrizio. No, in alcun modo: perchè voi avete a variare la forma dell’esercito secondo la qualità del sito e la qualità e quantità del nemico; come se ne mostrerà, avanti che si fornisca questo ragionamento, qualche esemplo. Ma questa forma vi si è data, non tanto come più gagliarda che l’altre, che è in vero gagliardissima, quanto perchè da quella prendiate una regola e uno ordine a sapere conoscere i modi d’ordinare l’altre; perchè ogni scienza ha le sue generalità, sopra le quali in buona parte si fonda. Una cosa solo vi ricordo: che mai voi non ordiniate esercito in modo che, chi combatte dinanzi, non possa essere sovvenuto da quegli che sono posti di dietro; perchè, chi fa questo errore, rende la maggior parte del suo esercito inutile, e, se riscontra alcuna virtù, non può vincere.

Luigi. E’ mi è nato sopra questa parte uno dubbio. Io ho visto che nella disposizione delle battaglie voi fate la fronte di cinque per lato, il mezzo di tre e l’ultime parti di due; ed io crederrei che fusse meglio ordinarle al contrario, perchè io penso che uno esercito si potesse con più difficultà rompere, quando chi l’urtasse, quanto più penetrasse in quello, tanto più lo trovasse duro, e l’ordine fatto da voi mi pare che faccia che, quanto più s’entri in quello, tanto più si truovi debole.

Fabrizio. Se voi vi ricordassi come a’ Triarj, i quali erano il terzo ordine delle Legioni Romane, non erano assegnati più che secento uomini, voi dubiteresti meno, avendo inteso come quegli erano posti nell’ultima schiera; perchè voi vedresti come io, mosso da questo esemplo, ho posto nella ultima schiera due battaglie, che sono novecento fanti; in modo che io vengo piuttosto, andando con l’ordine Romano, a errare per averne tolti troppi che pochi. E benchè questo esemplo bastasse, io ve ne voglio dire la ragione. La quale è questa: la prima fronte dell’esercito si fa solida e spessa, perch’ella ha a sostenere l’impeto de’ nemici e non ha a ricevere in se alcuno degli amici, e per questo conviene ch’ell’abbondi di uomini, perchè i pochi uomini la farebbero debole o per radità o per numero. Ma la seconda schiera, perchè ha prima a ricevere gli amici che a sostenere il nemico, conviene che abbia gli intervalli grandi; e per questo conviene che sia di minore numero che la prima, perchè, s’ella fusse di numero maggiore o equale, converrebbe o non vi lasciare gli intervalli, il che sarebbe disordine, o lasciandovegli, passare il termine di quelle dinanzi; il che farebbe la forma dell’esercito imperfetta. E non è vero quel che voi dite: che il nemico, quanto più entra dentro al battaglione, tanto più lo truovi debole; perchè il nemico non può combattere mai col secondo ordine se il primo non è congiunto con quello; in modo che viene a trovare il mezzo del battaglione più gagliardo e non più debole, avendo a combattere col primo e col secondo ordine insieme. Quel medesimo interviene, quando il nemico pervenisse alla schiera terza, perchè quivi, non con due battaglie che vi truova fresche, ma con tutto il battaglione avrebbe a combattere. E perchè questa ultima parte ha a ricevere più uomini, conviene che gli spazi sieno maggiori e, chi li riceve, sia minore numero.

Luigi. E’ mi piace quello che voi avete detto; ma rispondetemi ancora a questo: se le cinque prime battaglie si ritirano tra le tre seconde e, dipoi, le otto tra le due terze, non pare possibile che, ridotte le otto insieme e dipoi le dieci insieme, cappiano, o quando sono otto o quando sono dieci, in quel medesimo spazio che capevano le cinque.

Fabrizio. La prima cosa che io vi rispondo, è ch’egli non è quel medesimo spazio; perchè le cinque hanno quattro spazi in mezzo, che ritirandosi tra le tre o tra le due, gli occupano: restavi poi quello spazio che è tra uno battaglione e l’altro e quello che è tra le battaglie e le picche estraordinarie; i quali spazi tutti fanno larghezza. Aggiugnesi a questo, che altro spazio tengono le battaglie quando sono negli ordini senza essere alterate, che quando le sono alterate; perchè, nell’alterazione, o elle stringono o elle allargano gli ordini. Allargangli, quando temono tanto ch’elle si mettono in fuga; stringongli, quando temono in modo ch’elle cercono assicurarsi non con la fuga, ma con la difesa, tale che in questo caso elle verrebbero a ristringersi e non a rallargarsi. Aggiugnesi a questo, che le cinque file delle picche che sono davanti, appiccata ch’elle hanno la zuffa, si hanno tra le loro battaglie a ritirare nella coda dell’esercito, per dare luogo agli scudati che possano combattere, e quelle, andando nella coda dell’esercito, possono servire a quello che il capitano giudicasse fusse bene operarle; dove dinanzi, mescolata che è la zuffa, sarebbono al tutto inutili. E per questo gli spazi ordinati vengono ad essere del rimanente delle genti capacissimi. Pure, quando questi spazi non bastassero, i fianchi dal lato sono uomini e non mura, i quali, cedendo e rallargandosi, possono fare lo spazio di tanta capacità che sia sufficiente a ricevergli.

Luigi. Le file delle picche estraordinarie che voi ponete nell’esercito per fianco, quando le battaglie prime si ritirano nelle seconde, volete voi ch’elle stieno salde e rimangano come due corna allo esercito, o volete che ancora loro insieme con le battaglie si ritirino? Il che, quando abbiano a fare, non veggo come si possano, per non avere dietro battaglie con intervalli radi che le ricevano.

Fabrizio. Se il nemico non le combatte quando egli sforza le battaglie a ritirarsi, possono star salde nell’ordine loro e ferire il nemico per fianco, poi che le battaglie prime si fussero ritirate; ma se combattesse ancora loro, come pare ragionevole, sendo sì possente che possa sforzare l’altre, si deggiono ancora esse ritirare. Il che possono fare ottimamente, ancora ch’elle non abbiano dietro chi le riceva; perchè dal mezzo innanzi si possono raddoppiare per dritto, entrando l’una fila nell’altra, nel modo che ragionammo quando si parlò dell’ordine del raddoppiarsi. Vero è che a volere, raddoppiando, ritirarsi indietro, conviene tenere altro modo che quello che io vi mostrai; perchè io vi dissi che la seconda fila aveva a entrare nella prima, la quarta nella terza, e così di mano in mano; in questo caso non s’arebbe a cominciare davanti, ma di dietro, acciocchè, raddoppiandosi le file, si venissero a ritirare indietro, non a gire innanzi. Ma per rispondere a tutto quello che da voi, sopra questa giornata da me dimostrata, si potesse replicare, io di nuovo vi dico che io vi ho ordinato questo esercito e dimostro questa giornata per due cagioni: l’una, per mostrarvi come si ordina, l’altra, per mostrarvi come si esercita. Dell’ordine io credo che voi restiate capacissimi; e quanto allo esercizio, vi dico che si dee, più volte che si può, mettergli insieme in queste forme, perchè i capi imparino a tenere le loro battaglie in questi ordini. Perchè a’ soldati particolari s’appartiene tenere bene gli ordini di ciascuna battaglia, a’ capi delle battaglie s’appartiene tenere bene quelle in ciascuno ordine di esercito e che sappiano ubbidire al comandamento del capitano generale. Conviene pertanto che sappiano congiugnere l’una battaglia con l’altra, sappiano pigliare il luogo loro in un tratto; e perciò conviene che la bandiera di ciascuna battaglia abbia descritto, in parte evidente, il numero suo, sì per poterle comandare, sì perchè il capitano e i soldati a quel numero più facilmente le riconoscano. deggiono ancora i battaglioni essere numerati e avere il numero nella loro bandiera principale. Conviene, adunque, sapere di qual numero sia il battaglione posto nel sinistro o nel destro corno, di quale numero sieno le battaglie poste nella fronte e nel mezzo, e così l’altre di mano in mano. Vuolsi ancora che questi numeri sieno scala a’ gradi degli onori degli eserciti; verbigrazia: il primo grado sia il Capodieci, il secondo il capo de’ cinquanta Veliti ordinarj, il terzo il Centurione, il quarto il capo della prima battaglia, il quinto della seconda, il sesto della terza; e, di mano in mano, infino alla decima battaglia, il quale fusse onorato in secondo luogo dopo al capo generale d’uno battaglione, nè potesse venire a quel capo alcuno se non vi fusse salito per tutti questi gradi. E perchè, fuora di questi capi, ci sono gli tre Connestabili delle picche estraordinarie e gli due dei Veliti estraordinarj vorrei che fussono in quel grado del connestabole della prima battaglia; nè mi curerei che fussero sei uomini di pari grado, acciocchè ciascuno di loro facesse a gara per essere promosso alla seconda battaglia. Sappiendo adunque ciascheduno di questi capi in quale luogo avesse a essere collocata la sua battaglia, di necessità ne seguirebbe che, ad un suono di tromba, ritta che fusse la bandiera capitana, tutto l’esercito sarebbe ai luoghi suoi. E questo è il primo esercizio a che si debbe assuefare uno esercito, cioè a mettersi prestamente insieme; e per fare questo conviene ogni giorno, e in uno giorno più volte, ordinarlo e disordinarlo.

Luigi. Che segno vorresti voi che avessono le bandiere di tutto l’esercito, oltre al numero?

Fabrizio. Quella del capitano generale avesse il segno del principe dell’esercito, l’altre tutte potrebbero avere il medesimo segno e variare con i campi, o variare con i segni, come paresse meglio al signore dell’esercito; perchè questo importa poco, pure che ne nasca l’effetto ch’elle si conoscano l’una dall’altra. Ma passiamo all’altro esercizio in che si debba esercitare uno esercito, il quale è farlo muovere e con il passo conveniente andare, e vedere che, andando, mantenga gli ordini. Il terzo esercizio è ch’egli impari a maneggiarsi in quel modo che si ha dipoi a maneggiare nella giornata; far trarre l’artiglierie e ritirarle; fare uscire fuora i Veliti estraordinari; e dopo uno sembiante di assalto, ritirargli; fare che le prime battaglie, come s’elle fussono spinte, si ritirino nella radità delle seconde, e dipoi tutte nelle terze, e di quivi ciascuna ritorni al suo luogo; e in modo assuefargli in questo esercizio, che a ciascuno ogni cosa fosse nota e familiare; il che con la pratica e con la familiarità si conduce prestissimamente. Il quarto esercizio è ch’egli imparino a conoscere, per virtù del suono e delle bandiere, il comandamento del loro capitano; perchè quello che sarà loro pronunziato in voce, essi senza altro comandamento lo intenderanno. E, perchè l’importanza di questo comandamento dee nascere dal suono, io vi dirò quali suoni usavano gli antichi. Da’ Lacedemonj, secondo che afferma Tucidide, ne’ loro eserciti erano usati zufoli; perchè giudicavano che questa armonia fusse più atta a fare procedere il loro esercito con gravità e non con furia. Da questa medesima ragione mossi i Cartaginesi, nel primo assalto, usavano la citera. Aliatte, Re de’ Lidj, usava nella guerra la citera e i zufoli; ma Alessandro Magno e i Romani usavano i corni e le trombe, come quelli che pensavano per virtù di tali istrumenti, potere più accendere gli animi de’ soldati e farli combattere più gagliardamente. Ma come noi abbiamo, nello armare lo esercito preso del modo Greco e del Romano, così nel distribuire i suoni servereno i costumi dell’una e dell’altra nazione. Però farei presso al capitano generale stare i trombetti, come suono non solamente atto a infiammare l’esercito, ma atto a sentirsi in ogni romore più che alcuno altro suono. Tutti gli altri suoni che fussero intorno a’ Connestabili e a’ capi de’ battaglioni, vorrei che fussono tamburi piccoli e zufoli sonati, non come si suonano ora, ma come è consuetudine sonargli ne’ conviti. Il capitano, adunque, con le trombe mostrasse quando si avesse a fermare o ire innanzi o tornare indietro, quando avessono a trarre l’artiglierie, quando muovere gli Veliti estraordinarj, e, con la variazione di tali suoni, mostrare all’esercito tutti quegli moti che generalmente si possono mostrare; le quali trombe fussero dipoi seguitate da’ tamburi. E in questo esercizio, perch’egli importa assai, converrebbe assai esercitare il suo esercito. Quanto alla cavalleria, si vorrebbe usare medesimamente trombe, ma di minore suono e di diversa voce da quelle del capitano. Questo è quanto mi è occorso circa l’ordine dell’esercito e dell’esercizio di quello.

Luigi. Io vi priego che non vi sia grave dichiararmi un’altra cosa: per che cagione voi facesti muovere con grida e romore e furia i cavalli leggieri e i Veliti estraordinarj, quando assaltarono, e dipoi, nello appiccare il resto dell’esercito, mostrasti che la cosa seguiva con uno silenzio grandissimo? E perchè io non intendo la cagione di questa varietà, desidererei me la dichiarasse.

Fabrizio. E’ sono state varie l’opinioni de’ capitani antichi circa al venire alle mani: se si dee o con romore accelerare il passo o con silenzio andare adagio. Questo ultimo modo serve a tenere l’ordine più fermo e a intendere meglio i comandamenti del capitano. Quel primo serve ad accendere più gli animi degli uomini. E perchè io credo che si dee avere rispetto all’una e all’altra di queste due cose, io feci muovere quegli con romore e quegli altri con silenzio. Nè mi pare in alcun modo che i romori continui sieno a proposito, perch’egli impediscono i comandamenti; il che è cosa perniciosissima. Nè è ragionevole che i Romani, fuora del primo assalto, seguissero di romoreggiare, perchè si vede, nelle loro istorie, essere molte volte intervenuto, per le parole e conforti del capitano, i soldati che fuggivano essersi fermi e in varj modi per suo comandamenti avere variati gli ordini; il che non sarebbe seguito, se i romori avessero la sua voce superato.

LIBRO QUARTO

Luigi.

Poichè sotto l’imperio mio si è vinta una giornata sì onorevolmente, io penso che sia bene che io non tenti più la fortuna, sapendo quanto quella è varia e instabile. E però io desidero deporre la dittatura e che Zanobi faccia ora questo uffizio del domandare, volendo seguire l’ordine che tocchi al più giovane. E io so che non ricuserà questo onore o, vogliamo dire, questa fatica, sì per compiacermi, sì ancora per essere naturalmente più animoso di me; nè gli recherà paura avere a entrare in questi travagli, dove egli potesse così essere vinto, come vincere.

Zanobi. Io sono per stare dove voi mi metterete, ancora che io stessi più volentieri ad ascoltare; perchè, infino a quì, mi sono più soddisfatte le domande vostre che non mi sarieno piaciute quelle che a me, nello ascoltare i vostri ragionamenti, occorrevano. Ma io credo che sia bene, signore, che voi avanziate tempo e abbiate pazienza, se con queste nostre cerimonie vi infastidissimo.

Fabrizio. Anzi mi date piacere, perchè questa variazione de’ domandatori mi fa conoscere i varj ingegni e i varj appetiti vostri. Ma restavi cosa alcuna che vi paia da aggiugnere alla materia ragionata?

Zanobi. Due cose desidero, avanti che si passi ad un’altra parte: l’una, è che voi ne mostriate se altra forma di ordinare eserciti vi occorre; l’altra, quali rispetti debbe avere uno capitano prima che si conduca alla zuffa, e, nascendo alcuno accidente in essa, quali rimedj vi si possa fare.

Fabrizio. Io mi sforzerò soddisfarvi. Non risponderò già distintamente alle domande vostre, perchè, mentre che io risponderò a una, molte volte si verrà a rispondere all’altra. Io vi ho detto come io vi proposi una forma di esercito, acciocchè, secondo quella, gli potesse dare tutte quelle forme che il nemico e il sito ricerca; perchè, in questo caso, e secondo il sito e secondo il nemico si procede. Ma notate questo: che non ci è la più pericolosa forma che distendere assai la fronte dell’esercito tuo, se già tu non hai un gagliardissimo e un grandissimo esercito; altrimenti tu l’hai a fare piuttosto grosso e poco largo, che assai largo e sottile. Perchè, quando tu hai poche genti a comparazione del nemico, tu dei cercare degli altri rimedj, come sono: ordinare l’esercito tuo in lato che tu sia fasciato o da fiume o da palude, in modo che tu non possa essere circondato; o fasciarti da’ fianchi con le fosse, come fece Cesare in Francia. E avete a prendere in questo caso questa generalità: di allargarvi o ristrignervi con la fronte, secondo il numero vostro e quello del nemico; ed essendo il nemico di minore numero, dei cercare di luoghi larghi, avendo tu massimamente le genti tue disciplinate, acciocchè tu possa non solamente circondare il nemico, ma distendervi i tuoi ordini; perchè ne’ luoghi aspri e difficili, non potendo valerti degli ordini tuoi, non vieni ad avere alcuno vantaggio. Quinci nasceva che i Romani quasi sempre cercavano i campi aperti e fuggivano i difficili. Al contrario, come ho detto, dei fare se hai o poche genti o male disciplinate; perchè tu hai a cercare luoghi, o dove il poco numero si salvi, o dove la poca esperienza non ti offenda. Debbesi ancora eleggere il luogo superiore, per potere più facilmente urtarlo. Nondimanco si debbe avere questa avvertenza: di non ordinare l’esercito tuo in una spiaggia e in luogo propinquo alle radici di quella, dove possa venire l’esercito nemico; perchè in questo caso, rispetto alle artiglierie, il luogo superiore ti arrecherebbe disavvantaggio; perchè sempre e commodamente potresti dalle artiglierie nemiche essere offeso senza potervi fare alcuno rimedio, e tu non potresti commodamente offendere quello, impedito da’ tuoi medesimi. Debbe ancora, chi ordina uno esercito a giornata, avere rispetto al sole e al vento, che l’uno e l’altro non ti ferisca la fronte; perchè l’uno e l’altro ti impediscono la vista, l’uno con i razzi, l’altro con la polvere. E di più il vento disfavorisce l’armi che si traggono al nemico e fa più deboli i colpi loro. E quanto al sole, non basta avere cura che allora non ti dia nel viso, ma conviene pensare che, crescendo il dì, non ti offenda. E per questo converrebbe, nello ordinare le genti, averlo tutto alle spalle, acciocch’egli avesse a passare assai tempo nello arrivarti in fronte. Questo modo fu osservato da Annibale a Canne e da Mario contro a’ Cimbri. Se tu fossi assai inferiore di cavalli, ordina l’esercito tuo tra vigne e arbori e simili impedimenti, come fecero ne’ nostri tempi gli Spagnuoli, quando ruppono i Francesi nel Reame alla Cirignuola. E si è veduto molte volte come con i medesimi soldati, variando solo l’ordine e il luogo, si diventa di perdente vittorioso, come intervenne a’ Cartaginesi, i quali, sendo stati vinti da Marco Regolo più volte, furono dipoi, per il consiglio di Santippo lacedemonio, vittoriosi, il quale gli fece scendere nel piano, dove, per virtù de’ cavalli e degli liofanti, poterono superare i Romani. E mi pare, secondo gli antichi esempj, che quasi tutti i capitani eccellenti, quando eglino hanno conosciuto che il nemico ha fatto forte uno lato della battaglia, non gli hanno opposta la parte più forte, ma la più debole; e l’altra più forte hanno opposta alla più debole; poi, nello appiccare la zuffa, hanno comandato alla loro parte più gagliarda, che solamente sostenga il nemico e non lo spinga, e alla più debole, che si lasci vincere e ritirisi nell’ultima schiera dell’esercito. Questo genera due grandi disordini al nemico: il primo, ch’egli si truova la sua parte più gagliarda circondata; il secondo è che, parendogli avere la vittoria subito, rade volte è che non si disordini; donde ne nasce la sua subita perdita. Cornelio Scipione, sendo in Ispagna contro ad Asdrubale cartaginese, e sapendo come ad Asdrubale era noto ch’egli nell’ordinare l’esercito poneva le sue Legioni in mezzo, la quale era la più forte parte del suo esercito, e, per questo, come Asdrubale con simile ordine doveva procedere; quando dipoi venne alla giornata, mutò ordine, e le sue Legioni messe ne’ corni dell’esercito, e nel mezzo pose tutte le sue genti più deboli. Dipoi, venendo alle mani, in un subito quelle genti poste nel mezzo fece camminare adagio ed i corni dell’esercito con celerità farsi innanzi; dimodochè solo i corni dell’uno e dell’altro esercito combattevano, e le schiere di mezzo, per essere distante l’una dall’altra, non si aggiugnevano; e così veniva a combattere la parte di Scipione più gagliarda con la più debole d’Asdrubale; e vinselo. Il quale modo fu allora utile; ma oggi, rispetto alle artiglierie, non si potrebbe usare; perchè quello spazio che rimarrebbe nel mezzo, tra l’uno esercito e l’altro, darebbe tempo a quelle di potere trarre; il che è perniciosissimo, come di sopra dicevo. Però conviene lasciare questo modo da parte, e usarlo, come poco fa dissi, faccendo appiccare tutto lo esercito e la parte più debole cedere. Quando uno capitano si truova avere più esercito di quello del nemico, a volerlo circondare che non lo prevegga, ordini lo esercito suo di equale fronte a quello dello avversario; dipoi, appiccata la zuffa, faccia che a poco a poco la fronte si ritiri e i fianchi si distendano; e sempre occorrerà che il nemico si troverrà, senza accorgersene, circondato. Quando uno capitano voglia combattere quasi che sicuro di non potere essere rotto, ordini l’esercito suo in luogo dove egli abbia il refugio propinquo e sicuro, o tra paludi o tra monti o in una città potente; perchè, in questo caso, egli non può essere seguito dal nemico e il nemico può essere seguitato da lui. Questo termine fu usato da Annibale, quando la fortuna cominciò a diventargli avversa e che dubitava del valore di Marco Marcello. Alcuni, per turbare gli ordini del nemico, hanno comandato a quegli che sono leggiermente armati, che appicchino la zuffa, e, appiccata, si ritirino tra gli ordini; e quando dipoi gli eserciti si sono attestati insieme e che la fronte di ciascuno è occupata al combattere, gli hanno fatti uscire per li fianchi delle battaglie, e quello turbato e rotto. Se alcuno si truova inferiore di cavalli, può, oltre a’ modi detti, porre dietro a’ suoi cavalli una battaglia di picche, e, nel combattere, ordinare che dieno la via alle picche; e rimarrà sempre superiore. Molti hanno consueto di avvezzare alcuni fanti leggiermente armati a combattere tra’ cavalli; il che è stato alla cavalleria di aiuto grandissimo. Di tutti coloro che hanno ordinati eserciti alla giornata, sono i più lodati Annibale e Scipione quando combatterono in Affrica, e perchè Annibale aveva l’esercito suo composto di Cartaginesi e di ausiliarj di varie generazioni, pose nella prima fronte ottanta liofanti; dipoi collocò gli ausiliarj, dopo a’ quali pose i suoi Cartaginesi; nell’ultimo luogo messe gli Italiani, ne’ quali confidava poco. Le quali cose ordinò così, perchè gli ausiliarj, avendo innanzi il nemico e di dietro sendo chiusi da’ suoi, non potessono fuggire; dimodochè, sendo necessitati al combattere, vincessero o straccassero i Romani, pensando poi, con la sua gente fresca e virtuosa facilmente i Romani già stracchi superare. All’incontro di questo ordine, Scipione collocò gli Astati, i Principi e i Triarj nel modo consueto da potere ricevere l’uno l’altro e sovvenire l’uno all’altro. Fece la fronte dell’esercito piena di intervalli; e perch’ella non transparesse, anzi paresse unita, li riempiè di Veliti; a’ quali comandò che, tosto ch’e’ liofanti venivano, cedessero, e, per li spazi ordinarj, entrassono tra le Legioni e lasciassero la via aperta a’ liofanti; e così venne a rendere vano l’impeto di quegli, tanto che, venuto alle mani, ei fu superiore.

Zanobi. Voi mi avete fatto ricordare, nello allegarmi cotesta giornata, come Scipione nel combattere non fece ritirare gli Astati negli ordini de’ Principi, ma gli divise e fecegli ritirare nelle corna dell’esercito, acciocchè dessono luogo a’ Principi, quando gli volle spingere innanzi. Però vorrei mi diceste quale cagione lo mosse a non osservare l’ordine consueto.

Fabrizio. Dirovvelo. Aveva Annibale posta tutta la virtù del suo esercito nella seconda schiera; donde che Scipione, per opporre, a quella, simile virtù, raccozzò i Principi e i Triarj insieme: tale che essendo gli intervalli de’ Principi occupati da’ Triarj, non vi era luogo a potere ricevere gli Astati; e però fece dividere gli Astati e andare ne’ corni dell’esercito, e non gli ritirò tra’ Principi. Ma notate che questo modo dello aprire la prima schiera per dare luogo alla seconda, non si può usare se non quando altri è superiore; perchè allora si ha commodità a poterlo fare, come potette Scipione. Ma essendo al disotto e ributtato, non lo puoi fare se non con tua manifesta rovina; e però conviene avere, dietro, ordini che ti ricevino. Ma torniamo al ragionamento nostro. Usavano gli antichi Asiatici, tra l’altre cose pensate da loro per offendere i nemici, carri i quali avevano da’ fianchi alcune falce; tale che, non solamente servivano ad aprire con il loro impeto le schiere, ma ancora ad ammazzare con le falci gli avversarj. Contro a questi impeti in tre modi si provvedeva: o si sostenevano con la densità degli ordini, o si ricevevano dentro nelle schiere come i liofanti, o e’ si faceva con arte alcuna resistenza gagliarda; come fece Silla Romano contro ad Archelao, il quale aveva assai di questi carri che chiamavano falcati, che, per sostenergli, ficcò assai pali in terra dopo le prime schiere, da’ quali i carri sostenuti perdevano l’impeto loro. Ed è da notare il nuovo modo che tenne Silla contro a costui in ordinare lo esercito; perchè misse i Veliti e i cavalli dietro e tutti gli armati gravi davanti, lasciando assai intervalli da potere mandare innanzi quegli di dietro quando la necessità lo richiedesse; donde, appiccata la zuffa, con lo aiuto de’ cavalli a’ quali dette la via, ebbe la vittoria. A volere turbare nella zuffa l’esercito nemico, conviene fare nascere qualche cosa che lo sbigottisca, o con annunziare nuovi aiuti che vengano, o col dimostrare cose che gli rappresentino; talmente che i nemici, ingannati da quello aspetto, sbigottiscono e, sbigottiti, si possano facilmente vincere. I quali modi tennono Minuzio Ruffo e Acilio Glabrione Consoli Romani. Caio Sulpizio ancora misse assai saccomanni sopra muli e altri animali alla guerra inutili, ma in modo ordinati che rappresentavano gente d’arme, e comandò ch’eglino apparissono sopra uno con le, mentre ch’egli era alle mani con i Francesi; donde ne nacque la sua vittoria. Il medesimo fece Mario quando combattè contro a’ Tedeschi. Valendo, adunque, assai gli assalti finti mentre che la zuffa dura, conviene che molto più giovino i veri, massimamente se allo improvviso nel mezzo della zuffa si potesse di dietro o da lato assaltare il nemico. Il che difficilmente si può fare se il paese non ti aiuta; perchè, quando egli è aperto, non si può celare parte delle tue genti come conviene fare in simili imprese; ma ne’ luoghi silvosi o montuosi, e per questo atti agli agguati, si può bene nascondere parte delle tue genti, per potere, in uno subito e fuora di sua opinione assaltare il nemico; la quale cosa sempre sarà cagione di darti la vittoria. È stato qualche volta di grande momento, mentre che la zuffa dura, seminare voci che pronuncino il capitano de’ nemici essere morto, o avere vinto dall’altra parte dell’esercito; il che molte volte a chi l’ha usato ha dato la vittoria. Turbasi facilmente la cavalleria nemica o con forme o con romori inusitati; come fece Creso, che oppose i cammegli agli cavalli degli avversarj; e Pirro oppose alla cavalleria Romana i liofanti, lo aspetto de’ quali la turbò e la disordinò. Ne’ nostri tempi il Turco ruppe il Sofì in Persia e il Soldano in Sorìa, non con altro se non con i romori degli scoppietti; i quali in modo alterarono con gli loro inusitati romori la cavalleria di quegli, che il Turco potèo facilmente vincerla. Gli Spagnuoli, per vincere l’esercito d’Amilcare missero nella prima fronte carri pieni di stipa tirati da buoi, e, venendo alle mani, appiccarono fuoco a quella; donde che i buoi, volendo fuggire il fuoco, urtarono nell’esercito di Amilcare e lo apersero. Soglionsi, come abbiamo detto, ingannare i nemici nel combattere, tirandogli negli agguati, dove il paese è accomodato; ma, quando fusse aperto e largo, hanno molti usato di fare fosse, e dipoi ricopertole leggiermente di frasche e terra e lasciato alcuni spazi solidi da potersi tra quelle ritirare; dipoi, appiccata la zuffa, ritiratosi per quelli, e il nemico seguendogli, è rovinato in esse. Se nella zuffa ti occorre alcuno accidente da sbigottire i tuoi soldati, è cosa prudentissima il saperlo dissimulare e pervertirlo in bene, come fece Tullo Ostilio e Lucio Silla; il quale, veggendo come, mentre che si combatteva, una parte delle sue genti se ne era ita dalla parte nemica, e come quella cosa aveva assai sbigottiti i suoi, fece subito intendere per tutto lo esercito come ogni cosa seguiva per ordine suo; il che non solo non turbò lo esercito, ma gli accrebbe in tanto lo animo, che rimase vittorioso. Occorse ancora a Silla che, avendo mandati certi soldati a fare alcuna faccenda, ed essendo stati morti, disse, perchè l’esercito suo non si sbigottisse, avergli con arte mandati nelle mani de’ nemici perchè gli aveva trovati poco fedeli. Sertorio, faccendo una giornata in Ispagna, ammazzò uno che gli significò la morte d’uno de’ suoi capi, per paura che, dicendo il medesimo agli altri, non gli sbigottisse. È cosa difficilissima, uno esercito già mosso a fuggire, fermarlo e renderlo alla zuffa. E avete a fare questa distinzione: o egli è mosso tutto, e quì è impossibile restituirlo; o ne è mossa una parte, e quì è qualche rimedio. Molti capitani Romani con il farsi innanzi a quegli che fuggivano, gli hanno fermi, faccendoli vergognare della fuga; come fece Lucio Silla, che, sendo già parte delle sue Legioni in volta cacciate dalle genti di Mitridate, si fece innanzi con una spada in mano, gridando: Se alcuno vi domanda dove voi avete lasciato il capitano vostro, dite: Noi lo abbiamo lasciato in Beozia che combatteva. Attilio Consolo a quegli che fuggivano oppose quegli che non fuggivano, e fece loro intendere che, se non voltavano, sarebbero morti dagli amici e da’ nemici. Filippo di Macedonia, intendendo come i suoi temevano de’ soldati sciti, pose dietro al suo esercito alcuni de’ suoi cavalli fidatissimi, e commisse loro ammazzassono qualunque fuggiva; onde che i suoi, volendo più tosto morire combattendo che fuggendo, vinsero. Molti Romani, non tanto per fermare una fuga, quanto per dare occasione a’ suoi di fare maggiore forza, hanno, mentre che si combatte tolta una bandiera di mani a’ suoi e gittatala tra i nimici e proposto premj a chi la riguadagnava. Io non credo che sia fuora di proposito aggiugnere a questo ragionamento quelle cose che intervengono dopo la zuffa, massime sendo cose brevi e da non le lasciare indietro e a questo ragionamento assai conformi. Dico, adunque, come le giornate si perdono o si vincono. Quando si vince, si dee con ogni celerità seguire la vittoria e imitare in questo caso Cesare e non Annibale; il quale, per essersi fermo da poi ch’egli ebbe rotti i Romani a Canne, ne perdè lo imperio di Roma. Quello altro mai dopo la vittoria non si posava, ma con maggiore impeto e furia seguiva el nemico rotto, che non l’aveva assaltato intero. Ma quando si perde, dee un capitano vedere se dalla perdita ne può nascere alcuna sua utilità, massimamente se gli è rimaso alcuno residuo di esercito. La commodità può nascere dalla poca avvertenza del nemico, il quale, il più delle volte, dopo la vittoria diventa trascurato e ti dà occasione di opprimerlo; come Marzio Romano oppresse gli eserciti cartaginesi, i quali, avendo morti i duoi Scipioni e rotti i loro eserciti, non stimando quello rimanente delle genti che con Marzio erano rimase vive, furono da lui assaltati e rotti. Per che si vede che non è cosa tanto riuscibile quanto quella che il nemico crede che tu non possa tentare, perchè il più delle volte gli uomini sono offesi più dove dubitano meno. Debbe un capitano pertanto, quando egli non possa fare questo, ingegnarsi almeno con la industria che la perdita sia meno dannosa. A fare questo ti è necessario tenere modi che il nemico non ti possa con facilità seguire, o dargli cagione ch’egli abbia a ritardare. Nel primo caso, alcuni, poi ch’egli hanno conosciuto di perdere, ordinarono agli loro capi che in diverse parti e per diverse vie si fuggissono, avendo dato ordine dove si avevano dipoi a raccozzare; il che faceva che il nemico, temendo di dividere l’esercito, ne lasciava ire salvi o tutti o la maggior parte di essi. Nel secondo caso, molti hanno gittato innanzi al nemico le loro cose più care, acciocchè quello, ritardato dalla preda, dia loro più spazio alla fuga. Tito Dimio usò non poca astuzia per nascondere il danno ch’egli aveva ricevuto nella zuffa; perchè, avendo combattuto infino a notte con perdita di assai de’ suoi, fece la notte sotterrare la maggior parte di quegli; donde che la mattina, vedendo i nemici tanti morti de’ loro e si pochi de’ Romani, credendo avere disavvantaggio, si fuggirono. Io credo di avere così confusamente, come io dissi, soddisfatto in buona parte alla domanda vostra. Vero è che, circa la forma degli eserciti, mi resta a dirvi come alcuna volta per alcun capitano si è costumato fargli con la fronte a uso d’uno conio, giudicando potere per tale via più facilmente aprire l’esercito nemico. Contro a questa forma hanno usato fare una forma a uso di forbici, per potere tra quello vacuo ricevere quello conio e circondarlo e combatterlo da ogni parte. Sopra che voglio che voi prendiate questa regola generale: che il maggiore rimedio che si usi contro a uno disegno del nemico, è fare volontario quello ch’egli disegna che tu faccia per forza; perchè, faccendolo volontario, tu lo fai con ordine e con vantaggio tuo e disavvantaggio suo; se lo facessi forzato, vi sarebbe la tua rovina. A fortificazione di questo non mi curerò di replicarvi alcuna cosa già detta. Fa il conio lo avversario per aprire le tue schiere? Se tu vai con esse aperte, tu disordini lui ed esso non disordina te. Pose i liofanti in fronte del suo esercito Annibale per aprire con quegli l’esercito di Scipione; andò Scipione con esso aperto e fu cagione e della sua vittoria e della rovina di quello. Pose Asdrubale le sue genti più gagliarde nel mezzo della fronte del suo esercito, per spingere le genti di Scipione; comandò Scipione che per loro medesime si ritirassono, e ruppelo. In modo che simili disegni, quando si presentano, sono cagione della vittoria di colui contro a chi essi sono ordinati. Restami ancora, se bene mi ricorda, dirvi quali rispetti debbe avere uno capitano prima che si conduca alla zuffa. Sopra che io vi ho a dire, in prima, come uno capitano non ha mai a fare giornata se non ha vantaggio, o se non è necessitato. Il vantaggio nasce dal sito, dall’ordine, dall’avere o più o migliore gente, La necessità nasce quando tu vegga, non combattendo, dovere in ogni modo perdere; come è: che sia per mancarti danari e, per questo, lo esercito tuo si abbia in ogni modo a risolvere; che sia per assaltarti la fame; che il nemico aspetti di ingrossare di nuova gente. In questi casi sempre si dee combattere, ancora con tuo disavvantaggio, perch’egli è assai meglio tentare la fortuna dov’ella ti possa favorire, che, non la tentando, vedere la tua certa rovina. Ed è così grave peccato, in questo caso, in uno capitano il non combattere, come è d’avere avuta occasione di vincere e non la avere o conosciuta per ignoranza o lasciata per viltà. I vantaggi qualche volta te gli dà il nemico e qualche volta la tua prudenza. Molti, nel passare i fiumi, sono stati rotti da uno loro nemico accorto, il quale ha aspettato che sieno mezzi da ogni banda e, dipoi, gli ha assaltati; come fece Cesare a’ Svizzeri, che consumò la quarta parte di loro, per essere tramezzati da uno fiume. Trovasi alcuna volta il tuo nemico stracco per averti seguito troppo inconsideratamente, dimodochè, trovandoti tu fresco e riposato, non dei lasciare passare tale occasione. Oltre a questo, se il nemico ti presenta, la mattina di buona ora, la giornata, tu puoi differire di uscir de’ tuoi alloggiamenti per molte ore; e quando egli è stato assai sotto l’armi e ch’egli ha perso quel primo ardore con il quale venne, puoi allora combattere seco. Questo modo tenne Scipione e Metello in Ispagna, l’uno contro ad Asdrubale, l’altro contro a Sertorio. Se il nemico è diminuito di forze, o per avere diviso gli eserciti, come gli Scipioni in Ispagna, o per qualche altra cagione, dei tentare la sorte. La maggior parte de’ capitani prudenti piuttosto ricevano l’impeto de’ nemici, che vadano con impeto ad assaltare quelli: perchè il furore è facilmente sostenuto dagli uomini fermi e saldi, e il furore sostenuto facilmente si convertisce in viltà. Così fece Fabio contro a’ Sanniti e contro a’ Galli, e fu vittorioso; e Decio suo collega vi rimase morto. Alcuni che hanno temuto della virtù del loro nemico, hanno cominciato la zuffa nell’ora propinqua alla notte, acciocchè i suoi, sendo vinti, potessero, difesi dalla oscurità di quella, salvarsi. Alcuni, avendo conosciuto come l’esercito nemico è preso da certa superstizione di non combattere in tale tempo, hanno quel tempo eletto alla zuffa, e vinto. Il che osservò Cesare in Francia contro ad Ariovisto, e Vespasiano in Sorìa contro a’ Giudei. La maggiore e più importante avvertenza che debba avere uno capitano, è di avere appresso di se uomini fedeli, peritissimi della guerra e prudenti, con gli quali continuamente si consigli e con loro ragioni delle sue genti e di quelle del nemico: quale sia maggiore numero, quale meglio armato, o meglio a cavallo, o meglio esercitato; quali sieno più atti a patire la necessità; in quali confidi più, o ne’ fanti o ne’ cavalli. Dipoi considerino il luogo dove sono, e s’egli è più a proposito per il nemico che per lui; chi abbia di loro più commodamente la vettovaglia; s’egli è bene differire la giornata o farla; che di bene gli potesse dare o torre il tempo; perchè molte volte i soldati, veduta allungare la guerra, infastidiscono e, stracchi nella fatica e nel tedio, ti abbandonano. Importa sopra tutto conoscere il capitano de’ nemici e chi egli ha intorno: s’egli è temerario o cauto, se timido o audace. Vedere come tu ti puoi fidare de’ soldati ausiliarj. E sopra tutto ti debbi guardare di non condurre l’esercito ad azzuffarsi che tema o che in alcuno modo diffidi della vittoria; perchè il maggiore segno di perdere è quando non si crede potere vincere. E però in questo caso dei fuggire la giornata, o col fare come Fabio Massimo che, accampandosi ne’ luoghi forti, non dava animo ad Annibale d’andarlo a trovare; o, quando tu credessi che il nemico ancora ne’ luoghi forti ti venisse a trovare, partirsi della campagna e dividere le genti per le tue terre, acciocchè il tedio della espugnazione di quelle lo stracchi.

Zanobi. Non si può egli fuggire altrimenti la giornata, che dividersi in più parti e mettersi nelle terre?

Fabrizio. Io credo, altra volta, con alcuno di voi avere ragionato come quello che sta alla campagna non può fuggire la giornata, quando egli ha uno nemico che lo vogli combattere in ogni modo; e non ha se non uno rimedio: porsi con l’esercito suo discosto cinquanta miglia almeno dall’avversario suo, per essere a tempo a levarsegli dinanzi quando lo andasse a trovare. E Fabio Massimo non fuggì mai la giornata con Annibale, ma la voleva fare a suo vantaggio; e Annibale non presumeva poterlo vincere andando a trovarlo ne’ luoghi dove quello alloggiava; chè s’egli avesse presupposto poterlo vincere, a Fabio conveniva fare giornata seco in ogni modo, o fuggirsi. Filippo, Re di Macedonia, quello che fu padre di Perse, venendo a guerra con i Romani, pose gli alloggiamenti suoi sopra uno monte altissimo per non fare giornata con quegli; ma i Romani lo andarono a trovare in su quello monte e lo ruppono. Cingentorige, capitano de’ Franciosi, per non avere a fare giornata con Cesare, il quale fuora della sua opinione aveva passato un fiume, si discostò molte miglia con le sue genti. I Viniziani, ne’ tempi nostri, se non volevano venire a giornata con il Re di Francia, non dovevano aspettare che l’esercito francioso passasse l’Adda, ma discostarsi da quello, come Cingentorige. Donde che quegli, avendo aspettato, non seppono pigliare nel passare delle genti la occasione del fare la giornata, nè fuggirla; perchè i Franciosi, sendo loro pripinqui, come i Viniziani disalloggiarono, gli assaltarono e ruppero. Tanto è che la giornata non si può fuggire quando il nemico la vuole in ogni modo fare. Nè alcuno alleghi Fabio, perchè tanto in quel caso fuggì la giornata egli, quanto Annibale. Egli occorre molte volte che i tuoi soldati sono volonterosi di combattere, e tu cognosci, per il numero e per il sito o per qualche altra cagione, avere disavvantaggio, e desideri fargli rimuovere da questo desiderio. Occorre ancora che la necessità o l’occasione ti costringe alla giornata, e che i tuoi soldati sono male confidenti e poco disposti a combattere; donde che ti è necessario nell’uno caso sbigottirgli e nell’altro accendergli. Nel primo caso, quando le persuasioni non bastano, non è il migliore modo che darne in preda una parte di loro al nemico, acciocchè quegli che hanno e quegli che non hanno combattuto, ti credano. E puossi molto bene fare con arte quello che a Fabio Massimo intervenne a caso. desiderava, come voi sapete, l’esercito di Fabio combattere con l’esercito d’Annibale; il medesimo desiderio aveva il suo maestro de’ cavalli; a Fabio non pareva di tentare la zuffa; tantochè, per tale disparere, egli ebbero a dividere l’esercito. Fabio ritenne i suoi negli alloggiamenti; quell’altro combattè, e, venuto in pericolo grande, sarebbe stato rotto, se Fabio non lo avesse soccorso. Per il quale esemplo il maestro de’ cavalli, insieme con tutto lo esercito, cognobbe come egli era partito savio ubbidire a Fabio. Quanto allo accendergli al combattere, è bene fargli sdegnare contro a’ nemici, mostrando che dicono parole ignominiose di loro; mostrare di avere con loro intelligenza e averne corrotti parte; alloggiare in lato che veggano i nemici e che facciano qualche zuffa leggiere con quegli, perchè le cose che giornalmente si veggono, con più facilità si dispregiano; mostrarsi indegnato e, con una orazione a proposito, riprendergli della loro pigrizia e, per fargli vergognare dire di ogni giorno al fare del dì, quando si moveva, lo assaltavano e, per tutto il cammino, lo infestavano; dimodochè prese per partito di non partire prima che a mezzogiorno. Tale che i Parti, credendo che per quel giorno egli non volesse disalloggiare, se ne tornarono alle loro stanze; e Marco Antonio potèo dipoi tutto il rimanente dì camminare senza alcuna molestia. Questo medesimo, per fuggire il saettume de’ Parti, comandò alle sue genti che quando i Parti venivano verso di loro, s’inginocchiassero, e la seconda fila delle battaglie ponesse gli scudi in capo alla prima, la terza alla seconda, la quarta alla terza, e così successive; tanto che tutto l’esercito veniva ad essere come sotto uno tetto e difeso dal saettume nemico. Questo è tanto quanto mi occorre dirvi che possa a uno esercito, camminando, intervenire; però quando a voi non occorra altro, io passerò ad un’altra parte.

volere combattere solo, quando non gli vogliano fare compagnia. E dei, sopra ogni cosa, avere questa avvertenza, volendo fare il soldato ostinato alla zuffa: di non permettere che ne mandino a casa alcuna loro facultà, o depongano in alcuno luogo, infino ch’egli è terminata la guerra, acciocchè intendano che, se il fuggire salva loro la vita, egli non salva loro la roba; l’amore della quale non suole meno di quella rendere ostinati gli uomini alla difesa.

Zanobi. Voi avete detto come egli si può fare i soldati volti a combattere parlando loro. Intendete voi, per questo, che si abbia a parlare a tutto l’esercito, o a’ capi di quello?

Fabrizio. A persuadere o a dissuadere a’ pochi una cosa è molto facile perchè, se non bastano le parole, tu vi puoi usare l’autorità e la forza; ma la difficultà è rimuovere da una moltitudine una sinistra opinione e che sia contraria o al bene comune o all’opinione tua; dove non si può usare se non le parole le quali conviene che sieno udite da tutti, volendo persuadergli tutti. Per questo gli eccellenti capitani conveniva che fussono oratori, perchè, senza sapere parlare a tutto l’esercito, con difficultà si può operare cosa buona; il che al tutto in questi nostri tempi è dismesso. Leggete la vita d’Alessandro Magno, e vedete quante volte gli fu necessario concionare e parlare pubblicamente all’esercito; altrimenti non l’arebbe mai condotto, sendo diventato ricco e pieno di preda, per i deserti d’Arabia e nell’India con tanto suo disagio e noia; perchè infinite volte nascono cose mediante le quali uno esercito rovina, quando il capitano o non sappia o non usi di parlare a quello; perchè questo parlare lieva il timore, accende gli animi, cresce l’ostinazione, scuopre gl’inganni, promette premj, mostra i pericoli e la via di fuggirli, riprende, priega, minaccia, riempie di speranza, loda, vitupera, e fa tutte quelle cose per le quali le umane passioni si spengono o si accendono. Donde quel principe o Repubblica che disegnasse fare una nuova milizia e rendere riputazione a questo esercizio, debbe assuefare i suoi soldati a udire parlare il capitano, e il capitano a sapere parlare a quegli. Valeva assai, nel tenere disposti gli soldati antichi, la religione e il giuramento che si dava loro quando si conducevano a militare; perchè in ogni loro errore si minacciavano non solamente di quelli mali che potessono temere dagli uomini, ma di quegli che da Dio potessono aspettare. La quale cosa, mescolata con altri modi religiosi, fece molte volte facile a’ capitani antichi ogni impresa, e farebbe sempre, dove la religione si temesse e osservasse. Sertorio si valse di questa, mostrando di parlare con una cervia la quale, da parte d’Iddio, gli prometteva la vittoria. Silla diceva di parlare con una immagine ch’egli aveva tratta dal tempio di Apolline. Molti hanno detto essere loro apparso in sogno Iddio, che gli ha ammoniti al combattere. Ne’ tempi de’ padri nostri, Carlo VII Re di Francia, nella guerra che fece contro agli Inghilesi, diceva consigliarsi con una fanciulla mandata da Iddio, la quale si chiamò per tutto la Pulzella di Francia; il che gli fu cagione della vittoria. Puossi ancora tenere modi che facciano che i tuoi apprezzino poco il nemico; come tenne Agesilao spartano, il quale mostrò a’ suoi soldati alcuni Persiani ignudi, acciocchè, vedute le loro membra dilicate, non avessero cagione di temergli. Alcuni gli hanno costretti a combattere per necessità, levando loro via ogni speranza di salvarsi, fuora che nel vincere; la quale è la più gagliarda e la migliore provvisione che si faccia, a volere fare il suo soldato ostinato. La quale ostinazione è accresciuta dalla confidenza e dall’ amore del capitano o della patria. La confidenza, la causa l’armi; l’ordine, le vittorie fresche e l’opinione del capitano. L’amore della patria è causato dalla natura; quello del capitano, dalla virtù più che da niuno altro beneficio. Le necessitadi possono essere molte, ma quella è più forte, che ti costringe o vincere o morire.

LIBRO QUINTO

Fabrizio.

IO vi ho mostro come si ordina uno esercito per fare giornata con un altro esercito che si vegga posto all’incontro di se, e narratovi come quella si vince e, dipoi, molte circustanze per li varj accidenti che possono occorrere intorno a quella; tanto che mi pare tempo da mostrarvi ora come si ordina uno esercito contro a quel nemico che altri non vede, ma che continuamente si teme non ti assalti. Questo interviene quando si cammina per il paese nemico o sospetto. E prima avete a intendere come uno esercito Romano, per l’ordinario, sempre mandava innanzi alcune torme di cavalli come speculatori del cammino. Dipoi seguitava il corno destro. Dopo questo ne venivano tutti i carriaggi che a quello appartenevano. Dopo questi veniva una Legione. Dopo lei i suoi carriaggi. Dopo quelli un’altra Legione, ed appresso a quella, i suoi carriaggi. Dopo i quali ne veniva il corno sinistro co’ suoi carriaggi a spalle e, nell’ultima parte, seguiva il rimanente della cavalleria. Questo era in effetto il modo col quale ordinariamente si camminava. E se avveniva che l’esercito fusse assaltato a cammino da fronte o da spalle, essi facevano a un tratto ritirare tutti i carriaggi o in sulla destra o in sulla sinistra, secondo che occorreva o che meglio, rispetto al sito, si poteva e tutte le genti insieme, libere dagli impedimenti loro, facevano testa da quella parte donde il nemico veniva. Se erano assaltate per fianco, si ritiravano i carriaggi verso quella parte che era sicura, e dell’altra facevano testa. Questo modo, sendo buono e prudentemente governato, mi parrebbe da imitare, mandando innanzi i cavalli leggieri come speculatori del paese, dipoi, avendo quattro battaglioni, fare che camminassero alla fila, e ciascuno con i suoi carriaggi a spalle. E perchè sono di due ragioni carriaggi, cioè pertinenti a’ particolari soldati e pertinenti al pubblico uso di tutto il campo, dividerei i carriaggi pubblici in quattro parti e, ad ogni battaglione, ne concederei la sua parte, dividendo ancora in quarto le artiglierie e tutti i disarmati, acciocchè ogni numero di armati avesse equalmente gli impedimenti suoi. Ma perchè egli occorre alcuna volta che si cammina per il paese, non solamente sospetto, ma in tanto nemico che tu temi a ogni ora di essere assalito, sei necessitato, per andare più sicuro, mutare forma di cammino e andare in modo ordinato, che nè i paesani nè l’esercito ti possa offendere, trovandoti in alcuna parte improvvisto. Solevano in tale caso gli antichi capitani andare con l’esercito quadrato, chè così chiamavano questa forma, non perch’ella fusse al tutto quadra, ma per essere atta a combattere da quattro parti, e dicevano che andavano parati e al cammino e alla zuffa; dal quale modo io non mi voglio discostare, e voglio ordinare i miei due battaglioni, i quali ho preso per regola d’uno esercito, a questo effetto. Volendo pertanto camminare sicuro per il paese nemico e potere rispondere da ogni parte quando fusse all’improvviso assaltato, e volendo, secondo gli antichi, ridurlo in quadro, disegnerei fare uno quadro, che il vacuo suo fusse di spazio da ogni parte dugentododici braccia, in questo modo: io porrei prima i fianchi, discosto l’uno fianco dall’altro dugentododici braccia, e metterei cinque battaglie per fianco in filo per lunghezza, e discosto l’una dall’altra tre braccia; le quali occuperebbero con gli loro spazj, occupando ogni battaglia quaranta braccia, dugentododici braccia. Tra le teste poi e tra le code di questi due fianchi porrei l’altre dieci battaglie, in ogni parte cinque, ordinandole in modo che quattro se ne accostassono alla testa del fianco destro, e quattro alla coda del fianco sinistro, lasciando tra ciascuna uno intervallo di tre braccia; una poi se ne accostasse alla testa del fianco sinistro e una alla coda del fianco destro. E perchè il vano che è dall’uno fianco all’altro è dugentododici braccia, e queste battaglie, che sono poste allato l’una all’altra per larghezza e non per lunghezza, verrebbero a occupare con gli intervalli centotrentaquattro braccia, verrebbe, tra le quattro battaglie poste in sulla fronte del fianco destro e l’una posta in su quella del sinistro, a restare uno spazio di settantotto braccia; e quello medesimo spazio verrebbe a rimanere nelle battaglie poste nella parte posteriore; nè vi sarebbe altra differenza se non che l’uno spazio verrebbe dalla parte di dietro verso il corno destro, l’altro verrebbe dalla parte davanti verso il corno sinistro. Nello spazio delle settantotto braccia davanti porrei tutti i Veliti ordinarj: in quello di dietro gli straordinarj, che ne verrebbe ad essere mille per spazio. E volendo che lo spazio che avesse di dentro l’esercito fusse per ogni verso dugentododici braccia, converrebbe che le cinque battaglie che si pongono nella testa, e quelle che si pongono nella coda, non occupassono alcuna parte dello spazio che tengono i fianchi; e però converrebbe che le cinque battaglie di dietro toccassero, con la fronte, la coda de’ loro fianchi, e quelle davanti, con la coda, toccassero le teste, in modo che sopra ogni canto di questo esercito resterebbe uno spazio da ricevere un’altra battaglia. E perchè sono quattro spazi, io torrei quattro bandiere delle picche estraordinarie e, in ogni canto, ne metterei una; e le due bandiere di dette picche che mi avanzassero, porrei nel mezzo del vano di questo esercito in uno quadro in battaglia, alla testa delle quali stesse il capitano generale co’ suoi uomini intorno. E perchè queste battaglie, ordinate così, camminano tutte per uno verso, ma non tutte per uno verso combattono, si ha, nel porle insieme, a ordinare quegli lati a combattere che non sono guardati dall’altre battaglie. E però si dee considerare che le cinque battaglie che sono in fronte, hanno guardate tutte l’altre parti eccetto che la fronte; e però queste s’hanno a mettere insieme ordinariamente e con le picche davanti. Le cinque battaglie che sono dietro, hanno guardate tutte le bande fuora che la parte di dietro; e però si dee mettere insieme queste in modo che le picche vengano dietro, come nel suo luogo dimostrammo. Le cinque battaglie che sono nel fianco destro hanno guardati tutti i lati, dal fianco destro in fuora. Le cinque che sono in sul sinistro, hanno fasciate tutte le parti, dal fianco sinistro in fuora; e però nell’ordinare le battaglie si debbe fare che le picche tornino da quel fianco che resta scoperto. E perchè i Capidieci vengano per testa e per coda, acciocchè, avendo a combattere, tutte l’armi e le membra sieno ne’ luoghi loro, il modo a fare questo si disse quando ragionammo de’ modi dell’ordinare le battaglie. L’artiglierie dividerei; e una parte ne metterei di fuora nel fianco destro e l’altra nel sinistro. I cavalli leggieri manderei innanzi a scoprire il paese. Degli uomini d’arme, ne porrei parte dietro in sul corno destro, e parte in sul sinistro, distanti un quaranta braccia dalle battaglie. E avete a pigliare, in ogni modo che voi ordinate uno esercito, quanto a’ cavalli, questa generalità: che sempre si hanno a porre o dietro o da’ fianchi. Chi li pone davanti, nel dirimpetto dell’esercito, conviene faccia una delle due cose: o che gli metta tanto innanzi che, sendo ributtati, eglino abbiano tanto spazio che dia loro tempo a potere cansarsi dalle fanterie tue e non le urtare; o ordinare in modo quelle con tanti intervalli, che i cavalli, per quegli, possano entrare tra loro senza disordinarle. Nè sia alcuno che stimi poco questo ricordo, perchè molti, per non ci avere avvertito, ne sono rovinati e, per loro medesimi, si sono disordinati e rotti. I carriaggi e gli uomini disarmati si mettono nella piazza che resta dentro all’esercito, e in modo compartiti che dieno la via facilmente a chi volesse andare o dall’uno canto all’altro o dall’una testa all’altra dell’esercito. Occupano queste battaglie, senza l’artiglierie e i cavalli, per ogni verso dal lato di fuora, dugentottantadue braccia di spazio. E perchè questo quadro è composto di due battaglioni, conviene divisare quale parte ne faccia uno battaglione e quale l’altro. E perchè i battaglioni si chiamano dal numero e ciascuno di loro ha, come sapete, dieci battaglie e uno capo generale, farei che il primo battaglione ponesse le sue prime cinque battaglie nella fronte, l’altre cinque nel fianco sinistro, e il capo stesse nell’angulo sinistro della fronte. Il secondo battaglione dipoi mettesse le prime cinque sue battaglie nel fianco destro, e le altre cinque nella coda, e il capo stesse nell’angulo destro; il quale verrebbe a fare l’ufficio del Tergiduttore.

Ordinato in questo modo l’esercito, si ha a fare muovere e, nello andare, osservare tutto questo ordine; e senza dubbio egli è sicuro da tutti i tumulti de’ paesani. Nè dee fare il capitano altra provvisione agli assalti tumultuarj, che dare qualche volta commissione, a qualche cavallo o bandiera de’ Veliti, che gli rimettano. Nè mai occorrerà che queste genti tumultuarie vengano a trovarti al tiro della spada o della picca, perchè la gente inordinata ha paura della ordinata; e sempre si vedrà che, con le grida e con i romori, faranno uno grande assalto senza appressartisi altrimenti, a guisa di cani botoli intorno a uno maschino. Annibale, quando venne a’ danni de’ Romani in Italia passò per tutta la Francia e, sempre, de’ tumulti Francesi tenne poco conto. Conviene, a volere camminare, avere spianatori e marraiuoli innanzi che ti facciano la via; i quali saranno guardati da quegli cavalli che si mandono avanti a scoprire. Camminerà uno esercito in questo ordine dieci miglia il giorno, e avanzeragli tanto di sole, che egli alloggerà e cenerà; perchè per l’ordinario uno esercito cammina venti miglia. Se viene che sia assaltato da uno esercito ordinato, questo assalto non può nascere subito, perchè uno esercito ordinato viene col passo tuo; tanto che tu sei a tempo a riordinarti alla giornata e ridurti tosto in quella forma, o simile a quella forma di esercito che di sopra ti si mostrò. Perchè, se tu sei assaltato dalla parte dinanzi, tu non hai se non a fare che l’artiglierie che sono ne’ fianchi e i cavalli che sono di dietro vengano dinanzi e pongansi in quegli luoghi e con quelle distanze che di sopra si dice. I mille Veliti che sono davanti escano del luogo suo, e dividansi in cinquecento per parte, ed entrino nel luogo loro tra’ cavalli e le corna dell’esercito. Dipoi nel vuoto che lasceranno, entrino le due bandiere delle picche estraordinarie che io posi nel mezzo della piazza dell’esercito. I mille Veliti che io posi di dietro, si partano di quel luogo e dividansi per i fianchi delle battaglie a fortificazione di quelle; e, per la apertura che loro lasceranno, escano tutti i carriaggi e i disarmati, e mettansi alle spalle delle battaglie. Rimasa adunque la piazza vota e andato ciascuno a’ luoghi suoi, le cinque battaglie che io posi dietro all’esercito si facciano innanzi per il vòto che è tra l’uno e l’altro fianco, e camminino verso le battaglie di testa; e le tre si accostino a quelle a quaranta braccia con uguali intervalli intra l’una e l’altra; e le due rimangano addietro, discosto altre quaranta braccia. La quale forma si può ordinare in uno subito; e viene ad essere quasi simile alla prima disposizione che dell’esercito dianzi dimostrammo; e se viene più stretto in fronte, viene più grosso ne’ fianchi; che non gli dà meno fortezza. Ma perchè le cinque battaglie che sono nella coda hanno le picche dalla parte di dietro, per le cagioni che dianzi dicemmo, è necessario farle venire dalla parte davanti, volendo ch’elle facciano spalle alla fronte dell’esercito; e però conviene: o fare voltare battaglia per battaglia come uno corpo solido, o farle subito entrare tra gli ordini degli scudi e condurle davanti; il quale modo è più ratto e di minore disordine che farle voltare. E così dèi fare di tutte quelle che restono di dietro, in ogni qualità di assalto, come io vi mostrerò. Se si presenta che il nemico venga dalla parte di dietro, la prima cosa, si ha a fare che ciascuno volti il viso dov’egli aveva le schiene; e subito l’esercito viene ad avere fatto del capo coda e della coda capo. Dipoi si dee tenere tutti quegli modi in ordinare quella fronte che io dico di sopra. Se il nemico viene ad affrontare il fianco destro, si debbe, verso quella banda, fare voltare il viso a tutto l’esercito; dipoi fare tutte quelle cose, in fortificazione di quella testa, che di sopra si dicono; tale che i cavalli, i Veliti, l’artiglierie sieno ne’ luoghi conformi a questa testa. Solo vi è questa differenza: che nel variare le teste di quelli che si tramutano, chi ha ad ire meno e chi più. Bene è vero che faccendo testa del fianco destro, i Veliti che avessono ad entrare negli intervalli che sono tra le corna dell’esercito e i cavalli, sarebbono quegli che fussono più propinqui al fianco sinistro; nel luogo de’ quali avrebbero ad entrare le due bandiere delle picche estraordinarie, poste nel mezzo. Ma, innanzi vi entrassero, i carriaggi e i disarmati per l’apertura sgomberassono la piazza e ritirassonsi dietro al fianco sinistro; il che verrebbe ad essere allora coda dell’esercito. E gli altri Veliti che fussono posti nella coda secondo l’ordinazione principale, in questo caso non si mutassero, perchè quello luogo non rimanesse aperto, il quale di coda verrebbe ad essere fianco. Tutte l’altre cose si deggiono fare come nella prima testa si disse.

Questo che si è detto circa il far testa del fianco destro, s’intende detto avendola a fare del fianco sinistro; perchè si dee osservare il medesimo ordine. Se il nemico venisse grosso ed ordinato per assaltarti da due bande, si deggiono fare quelle due bande, ch’egli viene ad assaltare, forti con quelle due che non sono assaltate, duplicando gli ordini in ciascheduna e dividendo, per ciascuna parte, l’artiglieria, i Veliti e i cavalli. Se viene da tre o da quattro bande, è necessario o che tu o esso manchi di prudenza; perchè, se tu sarai savio, tu non ti metterai mai in lato che il nemico da tre o da quattro bande con gente grossa e ordinata ti possa assaltare; perchè, a volere che sicuramente ti offenda, conviene che sia sì grosso, che da ogni banda egli ti assalti con tanta gente quanta abbia quasi tutto il tuo esercito. E se tu se’ si poco prudente, che tu ti metta nelle terre e forze d’uno nemico che abbia tre volte gente ordinata più di te, non ti puoi dolere, se tu capiti male, se non di te. Se viene, non per tua colpa, ma per qualche sventura, sarà il danno senza la vergogna, e ti interverrà come agli Scipioni in Ispagna e ad Asdrubale in Italia. Ma se il nemico non ha molta più gente di te, e voglia, per disordinarti, assaltarti da più bande, sarà stoltizia sua e ventura tua; perchè conviene che a fare questo egli s’assottigli in modo che tu puoi facilmente urtarne una banda e sostenerne un’altra, e in brieve tempo rovinarlo. Questo modo dell’ordinare un esercito contro a uno nemico che non si vede ma che si teme, è necessario, ed è cosa utilissima assuefare i tuoi soldati a mettersi insieme e camminare con tale ordine e, nel camminare, ordinarsi per combattere secondo la prima testa e, dipoi, ritornare nella forma che si cammina; da quella, fare testa della coda, poi del fianco; da queste, ritornare nella prima forma. I quali esercizj e assuefazioni sono necessarj, volendo avere uno esercito disciplinato e pratico. Nelle quali cose si hanno ad affaticare i capitani ed i principi; nè è altro la disciplina militare, che sapere bene comandare ed eseguire queste cose; nè è altro uno esercito disciplinato, che uno esercito che sia bene pratico in su questi ordini; nè sarebbe possibile che chi in questi tempi usasse bene simile disciplina, fusse mai rotto. E se questa forma quadrata che io vi ho dimostra, è alquanto difficile, tale difficultà è necessaria, pigliandola per esercizio; perchè, sapendo bene ordinarsi e mantenersi in quella, si saprà dipoi più facilmente stare in quelle che non avessono tanta difficultà.

Zanobi. Io credo, come voi dite che questi ordini sieno molto necessarj; e io per me non saprei che mi vi aggiungere o levare. Vero è che io desidero sapere da voi due cose: l’una, se, quando voi volete fare della coda o del fianco, testa, e voi gli volete fare voltare, se questo si comanda con la voce o con il suono; l’altra, se quegli che voi mettete davanti a spianare le strade per fare la via all’esercito, deggiono essere de’ medesimi soldati delle vostre battaglie, oppure altra gente vile, deputata a simile esercizio.

Fabrizio. La prima vostra domanda importa assai; perchè molte volte lo essere i comandamenti de’ capitani non bene intesi, o male interpretati, ha disordinato il loro esercito; però le voci con le quali si comanda ne’ pericoli deggiono essere chiare e nette. E se tu comandi con il suono, conviene fare che dall’uno modo all’altro sia tanta differenza, che non si possa scambiare l’uno dall’altro; e, se comandi con le voci, dèi avere avvertenza di fuggire le voci generali e usare le particolari, e delle particulari fuggire quelle che si potessono interpretare sinistramente. Molte volte il dire, addietro, addietro, ha fatto rovesciare un esercito; però questa voce si dee fuggire, ed in suo luogo usare: ritiratevi. Se voi gli volete fare rimutare testa o per fianco o a spalle, non usate mai, voltatevi, ma dite: a sinistra, a destra, a spalle, A fronte. Così tutte le altre voci hanno ad essere semplici e nette, come: Premete! State forti! Innanzi! Tornate!. E tutte quelle cose che si possono fare con la voce, si facciano; l’altre si facciano con il suono. Quanto agli spianatori, che è la seconda domanda vostra, io fare’ fare questo uffizio a’ miei soldati proprj, sì perchè così si faceva nella antica milizia, sì ancora, perchè fusse nell’esercito meno gente disarmata e meno impedimenti, e ne trarrei d’ogni battaglia quel numero bisognasse, e farei loro pigliare gli istrumenti atti a spianare, e l’armi lasciare a quelle file che fussero loro più presso, le quali le porterebbero loro, e, venendo il nemico non avrebbono a fare altro che ripigliarle e ritornare negli ordini loro.

Zanobi. Gli istrumenti da spianare chi gli porterebbe?

Fabrizio. I carri, a portare simili istrumenti, deputati.

Zanobi. Io dubito che voi non condurresti mai questi vostri soldati a zappare.

Fabrizio. Di tutto si ragionerà nel luogo suo. Per ora io voglio lasciare stare questa parte e ragionare del modo del vivere dell’esercito; perchè mi pare, avendolo tanto affaticato, che sia tempo da rinfrescarlo e ristorarlo con il cibo. Voi avete ad intendere che uno principe debbe ordinare l’esercito suo più espedito che sia possibile e torgli tutte quelle cose che gli aggiugnessero carico e gli facessero difficili le imprese. Tra quelle che arrecono più difficultà, sono avere a tenere provvisto l’esercito di vino e di pane cotto. Gli antichi al vino non pensavano, perchè, mancandone, beevano acqua tinta con un poco d’aceto per darle sapore; donde che tra le munizioni de’ viveri dell’esercito era l’aceto e non il vino. Non cocevano il pane ne’ forni, come si usa per le cittadi, ma provvedevano le farine; e di quelle ogni soldato a suo modo si soddisfaceva, avendo per condimento lardo e sugna; il che dava, al pane che facevano, sapore e gli manteneva gagliardi. In modo che le provvisioni di vivere per l’esercito erano farine, aceto, lardo e sugna e, per i cavalli, orzo. Avevano, per l’ordinario, branchi di bestiame grosso e minuto che seguiva l’esercito; il quale, per non avere bisogno di essere portato, non dava molto impedimento. Da questo ordine nasceva che uno esercito antico camminava alcuna volta molti giorni per luoghi solitarj e difficili senza patire disagi di vettovaglie, perchè viveva di cose che facilmente se le poteva tirare dietro. Al contrario interviene ne’ moderni eserciti; i quali, volendo non mancare del vino e mangiare pane cotto in quegli modi che quando sono a casa, di che non possono fare provvisione a lungo, rimangono spesso affamati, o, se pure ne sono provvisti, si fa con uno disagio e con una spesa grandissima. Pertanto io ritirerei l’esercito mio a questa forma del vivere, nè vorrei mangiassono altro pane che quello che per loro medesimi si cocessero. Quanto al vino non proibirei il berne, nè che nell’esercito ne venisse, ma non userei nè industria nè fatica alcuna per averne, e nell’altre provvisioni mi governerei al tutto come gli antichi. La quale cosa se considererete bene, vedrete quanta difficultà si lieva via, e di quanti affanni e disagi si priva uno esercito e uno capitano, e quanta commodità si darà a qualunque impresa si volesse fare.

Zanobi. Noi abbiamo vinto il nemico alla campagna, camminato dipoi sopra il paese suo; la ragione vuole che si sia fatto prede, taglieggiato terre, preso prigioni; però io vorrei sapere come gli antichi in queste cose si governavano.

Fabrizio. Ecco che io vi soddisfarò. Io credo che voi abbiate considerato, perchè altra volta con alcuni di voi ne ho ragionato, come le presenti guerre impoveriscono così quegli signori che vincono, come quegli che perdono; perchè se l’uno perde lo stato, l’altro perde i danari e il mobile suo; il che anticamente non era, perchè il vincitore delle guerre arricchiva. Questo nasce da non tenere conto in questi tempi delle prede, come anticamente si faceva, ma si lasciano tutte alla discrezione de’ soldati. Questo modo fa due disordini grandissimi: l’uno, quello che io ho detto; l’altro, che il soldato diventa più cupido del predare e meno osservante degli ordini; e molte volte si è veduto come la cupidità della preda ha fatto perdere chi era vittorioso. I Romani pertanto, che furno Principi di questo esercizio, provvidero all’uno e all’altro di questi inconvenienti, ordinando che tutta la preda appartenesse al pubblico, e che il pubblico poi la dispensasse come gli paresse. E però avevano negli eserciti i questori, che erano, come diremmo noi, i camarlinghi; appresso a’ quali tutte le taglie e le prede si collocavano; di che il Consolo si serviva a dar la paga ordinaria a’ soldati, a sovvenire i feriti e gl’infermi, e agli altri bisogni dell’esercito. Poteva bene il Consolo, e usavalo spesso, concedere una preda a’ soldati; ma questa concessione non faceva disordine, perchè, rotto l’esercito, tutta la preda si metteva in mezzo e distribuivasi per testa secondo le qualità di ciascuno. Il quale modo faceva che i soldati attendevano a vincere e non a rubare; e le Legioni Romane vincevano il nemico e non lo seguitavano, perchè mai non si partivano degli ordini loro; solamente lo seguivano i cavalli con quegli armati leggiermente e, se vi erano, altri soldati che Legionari. Che se le prede fussero state di chi le guadagnava, non era possibile nè ragionevole tenere le Legioni ferme, e portavasi molti pericoli. Di quì nasceva pertanto che il pubblico arricchiva, e ogni Consolo portava con gli suoi trionfi nello erario assai tesoro, il quale era tutto di taglie e di prede. Un’altra cosa facevano gli antichi bene considerata; che del soldo che davano a ciascuno soldato, la terza parte volevano che deponesse appresso quello che della sua battaglia portava la bandiera; il quale mai non gliene riconsegnava se non fornita la guerra. Questo facevano mossi da due ragioni: la prima, perchè il soldato facesse del suo soldo capitale; perchè, essendo la maggior parte giovani e straccurati, quanto più hanno, tanto più senza necessità spendono; l’altra, perchè sapendo che il mobile loro era appresso alla bandiera, fussero forzati averne più cura e con più ostinazione difenderla; e così questo modo gli faceva massai e gagliardi. Le quali cose tutte è necessario osservare, a volere ridurre la milizia ne’ termini suoi.

Zanobi. Io credo che non sia possibile che ad uno esercito, mentre che cammina da luogo a luogo, non scaggia accidenti pericolosi dove bisogni la industria del capitano e la virtù de’ soldati, volendogli evitare; però io arei caro che voi, occorrendone alcuno, lo narrassi.

Fabrizio. Io vi contenterò volentieri, essendo massimamente necessario, volendo dare di questo esercizio perfetta scienza. deggiono i capitani, sopra ogni altra cosa, mentre che camminano con l’esercito, guardarsi dagli agguati; ne’ quali si incorre in due modi: o camminando tu entri in quegli, o con arte del nemico vi se’ tirato dentro, senza che tu gli presenta. Al primo caso volendo obviare, è necessario mandare innanzi doppie guardie le quali scuoprano il paese; e tanto maggiore diligenza vi si debba usare, quanto più il paese fusse atto agli agguati, come sono i paesi selvosi e montuosi, perchè sempre si mettono o in una selva o dietro a uno con le. E come lo agguato, non lo prevedendo, ti rovina, così, prevedendolo, non ti offende. Hanno gli uccegli o la polvere molte volte scoperto il nemico, perchè, sempre che il nemico ti venga a trovare, farà polverio grande che ti significherà la sua venuta. Così molte volte uno capitano veggendo, ne’ luoghi donde egli debbe passare, levare colombi o altri di quegli uccelli che volono in schiera, e aggirarsi e non si porre, ha conosciuto essere quivi lo agguato de’ nemici e mandato innanzi sue genti; e, conosciuto quello ha salvato se e offeso il nemico suo. Quanto al secondo caso di esservi tirato dentro, che questi nostri chiamono essere tirato alla tratta, dèi stare accorto di non credere facilmente a quelle cose che sono poco ragionevoli ch’elle sieno, come sarebbe: se il nemico ti mettesse innanzi una preda, dèi credere che in quella sia l’amo e che vi sia dentro nascoso lo inganno. Se gli assai nemici sono cacciati da’ tuoi pochi; se pochi nemici assaltono i tuoi assai; se i nemici fanno una subita fuga e non ragionevole; sempre dèi in tali casi temere di inganno. E non hai a credere mai che il nemico non sappia fare i fatti suoi; anzi, a volerti ingannare meno e a volere portare meno pericolo, quanto è più debole, quanto è meno cauto il nemico, tanto più dèi stimarlo. E hai in questo ad usare due termini diversi, perchè tu hai a temerlo con il pensiero e con l’ordine; ma con le parole e con l’altre estrinseche dimostrazioni mostrare di spregiarlo, perchè questo ultimo modo fa che i tuoi soldati sperano più di avere vittoria, quell’altro ti fa più cauto e meno atto ad essere ingannato. E hai ad intendere che, quando si cammina per il paese nemico, si porta più e maggiori pericoli che nel fare la giornata. E però il capitano, camminando, dee raddoppiare la diligenza; e la prima cosa che dee fare, è di avere descritto e dipinto tutto il paese per il quale egli cammina, in modo che sappia i luoghi, il numero, le distanze, le vie, i monti, i fiumi, i paludi e tutte le qualità loro: e a fare di sapere questo, conviene abbia a se, diversamente e in diversi modi, quegli che sanno i luoghi, e dimandargli con diligenza, e riscontrare il loro parlare e, secondo i riscontri, notare. Deve mandare innanzi cavalli e, con loro, capi prudenti, non tanto a scoprire il nemico, quanto a speculare il paese, per vedere se riscontra col disegno e con la notizia ch’egli ha avuta di quello. Deve ancora mandare guardate le guide con speranza di premio, e timore di pena e, sopra tutto, deve fare che l’esercito non sappia a che fazione egli lo guida; perchè non è cosa nella guerra più utile che tacere le cose che si hanno a fare. E perchè uno subito assalto non turbi i tuoi soldati, li dèi avvertire ch’egli stieno parati con l’armi; perchè le cose previse offendono meno. Molti hanno, per fuggire le confusioni del cammino, messo sotto le bandiere i carriaggi e i disarmati, e comandato loro che seguino quelle, acciocchè, avendosi, camminando, a fermare o a ritirare, lo possano fare più facilmente, la quale cosa, come utile, io appruovo assai. Debbesi avere ancora quella avvertenza nel camminare, che l’una parte dell’esercito non si spicchi dall’altra, o che, per andare l’uno tosto e l’altro adagio, l’esercito non si assottigli, le quali cose sono cagione di disordine. Però bisogna collocare i capi in lato che mantengano il passo uniforme, ritenendo i troppo solleciti e sollecitando i tardi; il quale passo non si può meglio regolare che col suono. Debbonsi fare rallargare le vie, acciocchè sempre una battaglia almeno possa ire in ordinanza. Debbesi considerare il costume e le qualità del nemico, e se ti suole assaltare o da mattino o da mezzo dì o da sera, e s’egli è più potente co’ fanti o co’ cavalli; e, secondo intendi, ordinarti e provvederti. Ma vegnamo a qualche particolare accidente. Egli occorre qualche volta che, levandoti dinanzi al nemico per giudicarti inferiore, e per questo, non volere fare giornata seco, e venendoti quello a spalle, arrivi alla ripa d’un fiume il quale ti toglie tempo nel passare, in modo che il nemico è per raggiungerti e per combatterti. Hanno alcuni, che si sono trovati in tale pericolo, cinto l’esercito loro dalla parte di dietro con una fossa, e quella ripiena di stipa e messovi fuoco; dipoi passato con l’esercito senza potere essere impediti dal nemico, essendo quello da quel fuoco che era di mezzo ritenuto.

Zanobi. E mi è duro a credere che cotesto fuoco li possa ritenere, massime perchè mi ricorda avere udito come Annone cartaginese, essendo assediato da’ nemici, si cinse, da quella parte che voleva fare eruzione, di legname e messevi fuoco; donde che, i nemici non essendo intenti da quella parte a guardarlo, fece sopra quelle fiamme passare il suo esercito, faccendo tenere a ciascuno gli scudi al viso per difendersi dal fuoco e dal fumo.

Fabrizio. Voi dite bene; ma considerate come io ho detto e come fece Annone; perchè io dissi che fecero una fossa e la riempierono di stipa; in modo che, chi voleva passare, aveva a contendere con la fossa e col fuoco. Annone fece il fuoco senza la fossa; e perchè lo voleva passare, non lo dovette fare gagliardo, perchè, ancora senza la fossa l’arebbe impedito. Non sapete voi che Nabide spartano, sendo assediato in Sparta da’ Romani, messe fuoco in parte della sua terra per impedire il passo a’ Romani, i quali erano di già entrati dentro? E mediante quelle fiamme, non solamente impedì loro il passo, ma gli ributtò fuora. Ma torniamo alla materia nostra. Quinto Lutazio Romano, avendo alle spalle i Cimbri e arrivato ad uno fiume, perchè il nemico gli desse tempo a passare, mostrò di dare tempo a lui al combatterlo; e però finse di volere alloggiare quivi, e fece fare fosse e rizzare alcuno padiglione e mandò alcuni cavalli per i campi a saccomanno; tanto che, credendo i Cimbri ch’egli alloggiasse, ancora essi alloggiarono e si divisero in più parti per provvedere a’ viveri; di che essendosi Lutazio accorto, passò il fiume senza potere essere impedito da loro. Alcuni, per passare uno fiume non avendo ponte, lo hanno derivato e una parte tiratasi dietro alle spalle; e l’altra dipoi, divenuta più bassa, con facilità passata. Quando i fiumi sono rapidi, a volere che le fanterie passino più sicuramente, si mettono i cavalli più possenti dalla parte di sopra, che sostengano l’acqua, e un’altra parte di sotto, che soccorra i fanti, se alcuno dal fiume nel passare ne fusse vinto. Passansi ancora i fiumi che non si guadano, con ponti, con barche, con otri; e però è bene avere ne’ suoi eserciti attitudine a potere fare tutte queste cose. Occorre alcuna volta che, nel passare uno fiume, il nemico opposto dall’altra ripa t’impedisce. A volere vincere questa difficultà non ci conosco esemplo da imitare migliore che quello di Cesare; il quale, avendo l’esercito suo alla riva d’un fiume in Francia, ed essendogli impedito il passare da Vergingetorige Francese il quale dall’altra parte del fiume aveva le sue genti, camminò più giornate lungo il fiume, e il simile faceva il nemico. E avendo Cesare fatto uno alloggiamento in uno luogo selvoso e atto a nascondere gente, trasse da ogni Legione tre coorti e fecele fermare in quello luogo, comandando loro che, subito che fusse partito, gittassero uno ponte e lo fortificassero, ed egli con l’altre sue genti seguitò il cammino. Donde che Vergingetorige vedendo il numero delle Legioni, credendo che non ne fusse rimasa parte a dietro, seguì ancora egli il camminare; ma Cesare, quando credette che il ponte fusse fatto, se ne tornò indietro e, trovato ogni cosa ad ordine, passò il fiume senza difficultà.

Zanobi. Avete voi regola alcuna a conoscere i guadi?

Fabrizio. Sì, abbiamo. Sempre il fiume in quella parte la quale è tra l’acqua che stagna e la corrente, che fa a chi vi riguarda come una riga, ha meno fondo ed è luogo più atto a essere guadato che altrove; perchè sempre in quello luogo il fiume ha posto più, e ha tenuto più in collo di quella materia che per il fondo trae seco. La quale cosa, perchè è stata esperimentata assai volte, è verissima.

Zanobi. Se egli avviene che il fiume abbia sfondato il guado, tale che i cavalli vi si affondino, che rimedio ne date?

Fabrizio. Fare graticci di legname e porgli nel fondo del fiume e, sopra quegli, passare. Ma seguitiamo il ragionamento nostro. S’egli accade che uno capitano si conduca col suo esercito tra due monti e che non abbia se non due vie a salvarsi, o quella davanti o quella di dietro, e quelle sieno da’ nemici occupate, ha, per rimedio, di far quello che alcuno ha per l’addietro fatto; il che è: fare dalla parte di dietro una fossa grande e difficile a passare, e mostrare al nemico di volere con quella ritenerlo, per potere con tutte le forze senza avere a temere di dietro, fare forza per quella via che davanti resta aperta. Il che credendo i nemici, si fecero forti di verso la parte aperta e abbandonarono la chiusa, e quello allora gittò uno ponte di legname a tale effetto ordinato sopra la fossa, e da quella parte senza alcuno impedimento passò e liberossi dalle mani del nemico. Lucio Minuzio, Consolo Romano, era in Liguria con gli eserciti, ed era stato da’ nemici rinchiuso tra certi monti donde non poteva uscire. Pertanto mandò quello alcuni soldati di Numidia a cavallo, ch’egli aveva nel suo esercito, i quali erano male armati e sopra cavalli piccoli e magri, verso i luoghi che erano guardati da’ nemici, i quali, nel primo aspetto, fecero che i nemici si missero insieme a difendere il passo; ma, poi che viddero quelle genti male in ordine e, secondo loro, male a cavallo, stimandogli poco, allargarono gli ordini della guardia. Di che come i Numidi si avviddero, dato di sproni a’ cavalli e fatto impeto sopra di loro, passarono senza che quegli vi potessero fare alcuno rimedio; i quali passati, guastando e predando il paese, costrinsero i nemici a lasciare il passo libero all’esercito di Lucio. Alcuno capitano che si è trovato assaltato da gran moltitudine di nemici, si è ristretto insieme e dato al nemico facultà di circondarlo tutto, e dipoi, da quella parte ch’egli l’ha conosciuto più debole, ha fatto forza e, per quella via, si ha fatto fare luogo, e salvatosi. Marco Antonio andando ritirandosi dinanzi all’esercito de’ Parti, s’accorse come i nemici

ogni giorno al fare del dì, quando si moveva, lo assaltavano e, per tutto il cammino, lo infestavano; dimodochè prese per partito di non partire prima che a mezzogiorno. Tale che i Parti, credendo che per quel giorno egli non volesse disalloggiare, se ne tornarono alle loro stanze; e Marco Antonio potèo dipoi tutto il rimanente dì camminare senza alcuna molestia. Questo medesimo, per fuggire il saettume de’ Parti, comandò alle sue genti che quando i Parti venivano verso di loro, s’inginocchiassero, e la seconda fila delle battaglie ponesse gli scudi in capo alla prima, la terza alla seconda, la quarta alla terza, e così successive; tanto che tutto l’esercito veniva ad essere come sotto uno tetto e difeso dal saettume nemico. Questo è tanto quanto mi occorre dirvi che possa a uno esercito, camminando, intervenire; però quando a voi non occorra altro, io passerò ad un’altra parte.

LIBRO SESTO

Zanobi.

IO credo che sia bene, poichè si debbe mutare ragionamento, che Batista pigli l’ufficio suo e io deponga il mio; e verreno in questo caso ad imitare i buoni capitani, secondo che io intesi già quì dal signore; i quali pongono i migliori soldati dinanzi e di dietro all’esercito, parendo loro necessario avere davanti chi gagliardamente appicchi la zuffa e chi, di dietro, gagliardamente la sostenga. Cosimo, pertanto, cominciò questo ragionamento prudentemente, e Batista prudentemente lo finirà. Luigi ed io l’abbiamo in questi mezzi intrattenuto. E come ciascuno di noi ha presa la parte sua volentieri, così non credo che Batista sia per ricusarla.

Batista. Io mi sono lasciato governare infino a quì; così sono per lasciarmi per lo avvenire. Pertanto, signore, siate contento di seguitare i ragionamenti vostri e, se noi v’interrompiamo con queste pratiche, abbiateci per iscusati.

Fabrizio. Voi mi fate, come già vi dissi, cosa gratissima; perchè questo vostro interrompermi non mi toglie fantasia, anzi me la rinfresca. Ma, volendo seguitare la materia nostra, dico come ormai è tempo che noi alloggiamo questo nostro esercito; perchè voi sapete che ogni cosa desidera il riposo, e sicuro, perchè riposarsi, e non si riposare sicuramente, non è riposo perfetto. Dubito bene che da voi non si fusse desiderato che io l’avessi prima alloggiato, dipoi fatto camminare e, in ultimo, combattere; e noi abbiamo fatto al contrario. A che ci ha indotto la necessità, perchè, volendo mostrare, camminando, come uno esercito si riduceva dalla forma del camminare a quella dell’azzuffarsi, era necessario avere prima mostro come si ordinava alla zuffa. Ma, tornando alla materia nostra, dico che, a volere che lo alloggiamento sia sicuro, conviene che sia forte e ordinato. Ordinato lo fa la industria del capitano, forte lo fa o il sito o l’arte. I Greci cercavano de’ siti forti, e non si sarebbero mai posti dove non fusse stata o grotta o ripa di fiume o moltitudine di arbori, o altro naturale riparo che gli difendesse. Ma i Romani non tanto alloggiavano sicuri dal sito quanto dall’arte; nè mai sarebbero alloggiati ne’ luoghi dove eglino non avessero potuto, secondo la disciplina loro, distendere tutte le loro genti. Di quì nasceva che i Romani potevano tenere una forma d’alloggiamento, perchè volevano che il sito ubbidisse a loro, non loro al sito. Il che non potevano osservare i Greci, perchè, ubbidendo al sito e variando i siti di forma, conveniva che ancora eglino variassero il modo dello alloggiare e la forma degli loro alloggiamenti. I Romani adunque, dove il sito mancava di fortezza, supplivano con l’arte e con la industria. E perchè io, in questa mia narrazione, ho voluto che si imitino i Romani, non mi partirò nel modo dello alloggiare da quegli, non osservando però al tutto gli ordini loro, ma prendendone quella parte quale mi pare che a’ presenti tempi si confaccia. Io vi ho detto più volte come i Romani avevano, negli loro eserciti Consolari, due Legioni d’uomini Romani, i quali erano circa undicimila fanti e seicento cavalli; e di più avevano altri undicimila fanti di gente mandata dagli amici in loro aiuto: nè mai negli loro eserciti avevano più soldati forestieri che Romani, eccetto che di cavalli, i quali non si curavano passassero il numero delle Legioni loro; e, come in tutte l’azioni loro, mettevano le Legioni in mezzo e, gli ausiliari da lato. Il quale modo osservavano ancora nello alloggiarsi, come per voi medesimi avete potuto leggiere in quegli che scrivono le cose loro; e però io non sono per narrarvi appunto come quegli alloggiassero, ma per dirvi solo con quale ordine io al presente alloggerei il mio esercito, e voi allora conoscerete quale parte io abbia tratta da’ modi Romani. Voi sapete che, all’incontro di due Legioni Romane, io ho preso due battaglioni di fanti, di semila fanti e trecento cavalli utili per battaglione, e in che battaglie, in che arme, in che nomi io li ho divisi. Sapete come nell’ordinare l’esercito a camminare e a combattere, io non ho fatto menzione d’altre genti, ma solo ho mostro come, raddoppiando le genti, non si aveva se non a raddoppiare gli ordini. Ma volendo, al presente, mostrarvi il modo dello alloggiare, mi pare da non stare solamente con due battaglioni, ma da ridurre insieme uno esercito giusto, composto, a similitudine del Romano, di due battaglioni e di altrettante genti ausiliarie. Il che fo, perchè la forma dello alloggiamento sia più perfetta, alloggiando uno esercito perfetto; la quale cosa nelle altre dimostrazioni non mi è paruta necessaria. Volendo adunque alloggiare uno esercito giusto di ventiquattro mila fanti e di duemila cavalli utili, essendo diviso in quattro battaglioni, due di gente propria e due di forestieri, terrei questo modo. Trovato il sito dove io volessi alloggiare, rizzerei la bandiera capitana e, intorno, le disegnerei uno quadro che avesse ogni faccia discoste da lei cinquanta braccia; delle quali qualunque, l’una guardasse l’una delle quattro regioni del cielo, come è levante, ponente, mezzodì e tramontana; tra il quale spazio vorrei che fusse lo alloggiamento del capitano. E perchè io credo che sia prudenza, e perchè così in buona parte facevano i Romani, dividerei gli armati da’ disarmati e separerei gli uomini impediti dagli espediti. Io alloggerei tutti, o la maggior parte degli armati, dalla parte di levante, e i disarmati e gli impediti dalla parte di ponente, faccendo levante la testa e ponente le spalle dello alloggiamento e mezzodì e tramontana fussero i fianchi. E per distinguere gli alloggiamenti degli armati, terrei questo modo: io moverei una linea dalla bandiera capitana e la guiderei verso levante per uno spazio di secentottanta braccia. Farei dipoi due altre linee che mettessero in mezzo quella e fussero di lunghezza quanto quella, ma distante ciascuna da lei quindici braccia; nella estremità delle quali vorrei fusse la porta di levante, e lo spazio, che è tra le due estreme linee, facesse una via che andasse dalla porta allo alloggiamento del capitano; la quale verrebbe ad essere larga trenta braccia e lunga secento trenta, perchè cinquanta braccia ne occuperebbe lo alloggiamento del capitano, e chiamassesi questa la via capitana; movessesi dipoi un’altra via dalla porta di mezzodì infino alla porta di tramontana, e passasse per la testa della via capitana e rasente lo alloggiamento del capitano di verso levante, la quale fusse lunga mille dugento cinquanta braccia, perchè occuperebbe tutta la larghezza dello alloggiamento, e fusse larga pure trenta braccia e si chiamasse la via di croce. Disegnato adunque che fusse lo alloggiamento del capitano e queste due vie, si cominciassero a disegnare gli alloggiamenti de’ due battaglioni proprj; e uno ne alloggerei da mano destra della via capitana, e uno da sinistra. E però, passato lo spazio che tiene la larghezza della via di croce, porrei trentadue alloggiamenti dalla parte sinistra della via capitana, e trentadue dalla parte destra, lasciando, tra il sedicesimo e diciassettesimo alloggiamento, uno spazio di trenta braccia; il che servisse a una via traversa che attraversasse per tutti gli alloggiamenti de’ battaglioni, come nella distribuzione d’essi si vedrà. Di questi due ordini di alloggiamenti, ne’ primi delle teste, che verrebbero ad essere appiccati alla via di croce, alloggerei i capi degli uomini d’arme; ne’ quindici alloggiamenti che da ogni banda seguissono appresso, le loro genti d’arme, che, avendo ciascuno battaglione centocinquanta uomini d’arme, toccherebbe dieci uomini d’arme per alloggiamento. Gli spazi degli alloggiamenti de’ capi fussero, per larghezza, quaranta e, per lunghezza, dieci braccia. E notisi che, qualunque volta io dico larghezza, significo lo spazio da mezzodì a tramontana, e, dicendo lunghezza, quello da ponente a levante. Quelli degli uomini d’arme fussero quindici braccia per lunghezza e trenta per larghezza. Negli altri quindici alloggiamenti che da ogni parte seguissono, i quali avrebbero il principio loro passata la via traversa e che avrebbero il medesimo spazio che quegli degli uomini d’arme, alloggerei i cavalli leggieri; de’ quali, per essere centocinquanta, ne toccherebbe dieci cavalli per alloggiamento; e nel sedecimo che ne restasse, alloggerei il capo loro, dandogli quel medesimo spazio che si dà al capo degli uomini d’arme. E così gli alloggiamenti de’ cavalli de’ due battaglioni verrebbero a mettere in mezzo la via capitana e dare regola agli alloggiamenti delle fanterie, come io narrerò. Voi avete notato come io ho alloggiato i trecento cavalli d’ogni battaglione, con gli loro capi, in trentadue alloggiamenti posti in sulla via capitana e cominciati dalla via di Croce; come dal sedici al diciassette resta uno spazio di trenta braccia per fare una via traversa. Volendo pertanto alloggiare le venti battaglie che hanno i due battaglioni ordinarj, porrei gli alloggiamenti d’ogni due battaglie dietro gli alloggiamenti de’ cavalli, che avessero ciascuno, di lunghezza, quindici braccia e, di larghezza, trenta come quegli de’ cavalli, e fussero congiunti dalla parte di dietro, che toccassero l’uno l’altro. E in ogni primo alloggiamento, da ogni banda, che viene appiccato con la via di croce, alloggerei il connestabole d’una battaglia, che verrebbe a rispondere allo alloggiamento del capo degli uomini d’arme; ed avrebbe questo alloggiamento solo di spazio, per lunghezza, venti braccia e, per lunghezza, dieci. Negli altri quindici alloggiamenti, che da ogni banda seguissono dopo questo infino alla via traversa, alloggerei da ogni parte una battaglia di fanti, che, essendo quattrocentocinquanta, ne toccherebbe per alloggiamento trenta. Gli altri quindici alloggiamenti porrei continui, da ogni banda, a quegli de’ cavalli leggieri, con gli medesimi spazi, dove alloggerei da ogni parte un’altra battaglia di fanti. E nell’ultimo alloggiamento porrei da ogni parte il connestabole della battaglia, che verrebbe ad essere appiccato con quello del capo de’ cavalli leggieri, con lo spazio di dieci braccia per lunghezza e di venti per larghezza. E così questi due primi ordini di alloggiamenti sarebbero mezzi di cavalli e mezzi di fanti. E perchè io voglio, come nel suo luogo vi dissi, che questi cavalli sieno tutti utili, e per questo non avendo famigli che, nel governare i cavalli o nell’altre cose necessarie, gli sovvenissono, vorrei che questi fanti che alloggiassero dietro a’ cavalli, fussero obligati ad aiutargli provvedere e governare a’ padroni, e per questo fussero esenti dall’altre fazioni del campo; il quale modo era osservato da’ Romani. Lasciato dipoi, dopo questi alloggiamenti, da ogni parte, uno spazio di trenta braccia che facesse via e chiamassesi l’una, prima via a mano destra, e l’altra, prima via a sinistra, porrei da ogni banda un altro ordine di trentadue alloggiamenti doppi, che voltassero la parte di dietro l’uno all’altro, con gli medesimi spazi che quegli ho detti, e divisi dopo i sedecimi nel medesimo modo, per fare la via traversa; dove alloggerei da ogni lato quattro battaglie di fanti con i Connestabili nelle teste da piè e da capo. Lasciato dipoi, da ogni lato, un altro spazio di trenta braccia che facesse via, che si chiamasse da una parte, la seconda via a man destra, e dall’altra parte, la seconda via a sinistra, metterei un altro ordine da ogni banda di trentadue alloggiamenti doppi, con le medesime distanze e divisioni; dove alloggerei da ogni lato altre quattro battaglie con gli loro Connestabili. E così verrebbero ad essere alloggiati, in tre ordini d’alloggiamenti per banda, i cavalli e le battaglie degli due battaglioni ordinarj, e metterebbero in mezzo la via capitana. I due battaglioni ausiliarj, perchè io gli fo composti de’ medesimi uomini, alloggerei da ogni parte di questi due battaglioni ordinarj, con gli medesimi ordini di alloggiamenti, ponendo prima uno ordine di alloggiamenti doppi dove alloggiassono mezz’i cavalli e mezz’i fanti, discosto trenta braccia dagli altri, per fare una via che si chiamasse, l’una, terza via a man destra, e l’altra, terza via a sinistra. E dipoi farei da ogni lato due altri ordini di alloggiamenti, nel medesimo modo distinti e ordinati che sono quegli de’ battaglioni ordinarj, che farebbero due altre vie; e tutte quante si chiamassono dal numero e dalla mano dov’elle fussero collocate. In modo che tutta quanta questa banda di esercito verrebbe ad essere alloggiata in dodici ordini d’alloggiamenti doppi, e in tredici vie, computando la via capitana e quella di croce. Vorrei restasse uno spazio, dagli alloggiamenti al fosso, di cento braccia intorno intorno. E se voi computerete tutti questi spazi, vedrete che dal mezzo dello alloggiamento del capitano alla porta di levante, sono seicento ottanta braccia. Restaci ora due spazi, de’ quali, uno è dallo alloggiamento del capitano alla porta di mezzodì, l’altro è da quello alla porta di tramontana; che viene ad essere ciascuno, misurandolo dal punto del mezzo, secentoventicinque braccia. Tratto dipoi da ciascuno di questi spazi cinquanta braccia, che occupa l’alloggiamento del capitano, e quarantacinque braccia di piazza, che io gli voglio dare da ogni lato, e trenta braccia di via, che divida ciascuno di detti spazi nel mezzo, e cento braccia che si lasciano da ogni parte tra gli alloggiamenti e il fosso, resta da ogni banda uno spazio per alloggiamenti largo quattrocento braccia e lungo cento, misurando la lunghezza con lo spazio che tiene l’alloggiamento del capitano. Dividendo adunque per il mezzo dette lunghezze, si farebbe da ciascuna mano del capitano quaranta alloggiamenti lunghi cinquanta braccia e larghi venti, che verrebbero ad essere in tutto ottanta alloggiamenti; ne’ quali si alloggerebbe i capi generali de’ battaglioni, i camarlinghi, i maestri di campi e tutti quegli che avessono uffizio nell’esercito, lasciandone alcuno voto per gli forestieri che venissono e per quegli che militassero per grazia del capitano. Dalla parte di dietro dello alloggiamento del capitano moverei una via da mezzodì a tramontana, larga trenta braccia, e chiamassesi la via di testa, la quale verrebbe ad essere posta lungo gli ottanta alloggiamenti detti, perchè questa via e la via di croce metterebbero in mezzo l’alloggiamento del capitano e gli ottanta alloggiamenti che gli fussero da’ fianchi. Da questa via di testa, e di rincontro allo alloggiamento del capitano, moverei un’altra via che andasse da quella alla porta di ponente, larga pure trenta braccia, e rispondesse per sito e per lunghezza alla via capitana e si chiamasse la via di piazza. Poste queste due vie ordinerei la piazza dove si facesse il mercato; la quale porrei nella testa della via di piazza, all’incontro allo alloggiamento del capitano, ed appiccata con la via di testa; e vorrei ch’ella fusse quadra, e le consegnerei novantasei braccia per quadro. E da man destra e man sinistra di detta piazza farei due ordini d’alloggiamenti, che ogni ordine avesse otto alloggiamenti doppi, i quali occupassero per lunghezza dodici braccia e per larghezza trenta; sì che verrebbero ad essere da ogni mano della piazza che la mettessono in mezzo, sedici alloggiamenti che sarebbero in tutto trentadue; ne’ quali alloggerei quegli cavalli che avanzassero a’ battaglioni ausiliarj; e quando questi non bastassero, consegnerei loro alcuni di quegli alloggiamenti che mettono in mezzo il capitano, e massime di quegli che guardano verso i fossi. Restanci ora ad alloggiare le picche e i Veliti estraordinarj che ha ogni battaglione; che sapete, secondo l’ordine nostro, come ciascuno ha, oltre alle dieci battaglie, mille picche estraordinarie e cinquecento Veliti; talmente che i due battaglioni proprj hanno duemila picche estraordinarie e mille Veliti estraordinarj e gli ausiliarj quanto quegli; dimodochè si viene ancora avere ad alloggiare semila fanti, i quali tutti alloggerei nella parte di verso ponente e lungo i fossi. Dalla punta adunque della via di testa e di verso tramontana lasciando lo spazio delle cento braccia da quegli al fosso, porrei uno ordine di cinque alloggiamenti doppi, che tenessero tutti settantacinque braccia per lunghezza e sessanta per larghezza; tale che, divisa la larghezza, toccherebbe a ciascuno alloggiamento quindici braccia per lunghezza e trenta per larghezza. E perchè sarebbero dieci alloggiamenti, alloggerebbero trecento fanti, toccando ad ogni alloggiamento trenta fanti. Lasciando dipoi uno spazio di trentun braccio, porrei in simile modo e con simili spazi un altro ordine di cinque alloggiamenti doppi, e dipoi un altro, tanto che fossero cinque ordini di cinque alloggiamenti doppi; che verrebbero ad essere cinquanta alloggiamenti posti per linea retta dalla parte di tramontana, distanti tutti da’ fossi cento braccia, che alloggerebbero mille cinquecento fanti. Voltando dipoi in sulla mano sinistra verso la porta di ponente, porrei in tutto quel tratto che fusse da loro a detta porta, cinque altri ordini d’alloggiamenti doppi, co’ medesimi spazi e co’ medesimi modi; vero è che dall’uno ordine all’altro non sarebbe più che quindici braccia di spazio, ne’ quali si alloggerebbero ancora mille cinquecento fanti; e così dalla porta di tramontana a quella di ponente, come girano i fossi in cento alloggiamenti, compartiti in dieci ordini di cinque alloggiamenti doppi per ordine, si alloggerebbero tutte le picche e i Veliti estraordinarj de’ battaglioni proprj. E così dalla porta di ponente a quella di mezzodì, come girano i fossi nel medesimo modo appunto in altri dieci ordini di dieci alloggiamenti per ordine, si alloggerebbero le picche e i Veliti estraordinarj de’ battaglioni ausiliarii. I capi ovvero i Connestabili loro, potrebbero pigliarsi quegli alloggiamenti paressono loro più commodi dalla parte di verso i fossi. L’artiglierie disporrei per tutto lungo gli argini de’ fossi; ed in tutto l’altro spazio che restasse di verso ponente, alloggerei tutti i disarmati e tutti gli impedimenti del campo. E hassi ad intendere che, sotto questo nome di impedimenti, come voi sapete, gli antichi intendevano tutto quel traino e tutte quelle cose che sono necessarie a uno esercito, fuora de’ soldati, come sono: legnaiuoli, fabbri, maniscalchi, scarpellini, ingegneri, bombardieri, ancora che quegli si potessero mettere nel numero degli armati, mandriani con le loro mandrie di castroni e buoi che per vivere dell’esercito bisognano e, di più, maestri d’ogni arte, insieme co’ carriaggi pubblici delle munizioni pubbliche, pertinenti al vivere e allo armare. Nè distinguerei particolarmente questi alloggiamenti; solo disegnerei le vie che non avessero ad essere occupate da loro; dipoi gli altri spazi che tra le vie restassero, che sarebbero quattro, consegnerei in genere a tutti i detti impedimenti, cioè l’uno a’ mandriani, l’altro agli artefici e maestranze, l’altro a carriaggi pubblici de’ viveri, il quarto a quegli dell’armare. Le vie, le quali io vorrei si lasciassero senza occuparle, sarebbero la via di piazza, la via di testa e, di più, una via che si chiamasse la via di mezzo; la quale si partisse da tramontana e andasse verso mezzodì e passasse per il mezzo della via di piazza, la quale dalla parte di ponente facesse quello effetto che fa la via traversa dalla parte di levante. E, oltre a questo, una via che girasse dalla parte di dentro, lungo gli alloggiamenti delle picche e de’ Veliti estraordinarj. E tutte queste vie fussero larghe trenta braccia. E l’artiglierie disporrei lungo i fossi del campo dalla parte di drento.

Batista. Io confesso non me ne intendere; nè credo anche che a dire così mi sia vergogna, non sendo questo mio esercizio. Nondimanco, questo ordine mi piace assai; solo vorrei che voi mi solveste questi dubbi: l’uno, perchè voi fate le vie e gli spazi d’intorno sì larghi; l’altro, che mi dà più noia, è, questi spazi che voi disegnate per gli alloggiamenti, come eglino hanno a essere usati.

Fabrizio. Sappiate che io fo le vie tutte larghe trenta braccia, acciocchè per quelle possa andare una battaglia di fanti in ordinanza, che, se bene vi ricorda, vi dissi come per larghezza tiene ciascuna dalle venticinque alle trenta braccia. Che lo spazio il quale è tra il fosso e gli alloggiamenti sia cento braccia, è necessario, perchè vi si possano maneggiare le battaglie e l’artiglierie, condurre per quello le prede e, bisognando, avere spazio da ritirarsi con nuovi fossi e nuovi argini. Stanno meglio ancora gli alloggiamenti discosto assai da’ fossi, per essere più discosto a’ fuochi e alle altre cose che potesse trarre il nemico per offesa di quegli. Quanto alla seconda domanda, la intenzione mia non è che ogni spazio da me disegnato sia coperto da uno padiglione solo, ma sia usato come torna commodità a quegli che vi alloggiano, o con più o con manco tende, pure che non si esca de’ termini di quello. E a disegnare questi alloggiamenti, conviene sieno uomini pratichissimi e architettori eccellenti; i quali, subito che il capitano ha eletto il luogo, gli sappiano dare la forma e distribuirlo, distinguendo le vie, dividendo gli alloggiamenti con corde e con aste in modo, praticamente, che subito sieno ordinati e divisi. E a volere che non nasca confusione conviene voltare sempre il campo in uno medesimo modo, acciocchè ciascuno sappia in quale via, in quale spazio egli ha a trovare il suo alloggiamento. E questo si dee osservare in ogni tempo, in ogni luogo, e in maniera che paia una città mobile, la quale, dovunque va, porti seco le medesime vie, le medesime case e il medesimo aspetto; la quale cosa non possono osservare coloro i quali, cercando di siti forti, hanno a mutare forma secondo la variazione del sito. Ma i Romani facevano forte il luogo co’ fossi, col vallo e con gli argini, perchè facevano uno steccato intorno al campo e, innanzi a quello, la fossa, per l’ordinario larga sei braccia e fonda tre; i quali spazi accrescevano, secondo che volevano dimorare in uno luogo e secondo che temevano il nemico. Io per me al presente non farei lo steccato, se già io non volessi vernare in uno luogo. Farei bene la fossa e l’argine non minore che la detta, ma maggiore secondo la necessità, farei ancora, rispetto all’artiglierie, sopra ogni canto dello alloggiamento un mezzo circulo di fosso, dal quale le artiglierie potessero battere per fianco chi venisse a combattere i fossi. In questo esercizio di sapere ordinare uno alloggiamento si deggiono ancora esercitare i soldati e fare, con quello, i ministri pronti a disegnarlo e i soldati presti a cognoscere i luoghi loro. Nè cosa alcuna è difficile, come nel luogo suo più largamente si dirà. Perchè io voglio passare per ora alle guardie del campo, perchè, senza la distribuzione delle guardie, tutte l’altre fatiche sarebbero vane.

Batista. Avanti che voi passiate alle guardie, vorrei mi dicessi: quando altri vuole porre gli alloggiamenti propinqui al nemico, che modi si tengono? perchè io non so come vi sia tempo a potergli ordinare senza pericolo.

Fabrizio. Voi avete a sapere questo: che niuno capitano alloggia propinquo al nemico, se non quello che è disposto fare la giornata qualunque volta il nemico voglia; e quando altri è così disposto, non ci è pericolo se non ordinario; perchè si ordinano le due parti dell’esercito a fare la giornata, e l’altra parte fa gli alloggiamenti. I Romani in questo caso davano questa via di fortificare gli alloggiamenti a’ Triari, ed i Principi e gli Astati stavano in arme. Questo facevano perchè, essendo i Triari gli ultimi a combattere, erano a tempo, se il nemico veniva, a lasciare l’opera e pigliare l’armi e entrare ne’ luoghi loro. Voi, a imitazione de’ Romani, avresti a far fare gli alloggiamenti a quelle battaglie che voi voleste mettere nella ultima parte dell’esercito in luogo de’ Triarj. Ma torniamo a ragionare delle guardie. E’ non mi pare avere trovato, appresso agli antichi, che per guardare il campo la notte tenessero guardie fuora de’ fossi discosto, come si usa oggi, le quali chiamano ascolte. Il che credo facessero, pensando che facilmente l’esercito ne potesse restare ingannato per la difficultà che è nel rivederle, e per potere essere quelle o corrotte o oppresse dal nemico; in modo che fidarsi o in parte o in tutto di loro giudicavano pericoloso. E però tutta la forza della guardia era dentro a’ fossi; la quale facevano con una diligenza e con uno ordine grandissimo, punendo capitalmente qualunque da tale ordine deviava. Il quale, come era da loro ordinato non vi dirò altrimenti, per non vi tediare, potendo per voi medesimi vederlo quando, infino a ora, non l’aveste veduto. Dirò solo brevemente quello che per me si farebbe. Io farei stare per l’ordinario ogni notte il terzo dell’esercito armato, e di quello la quarta parte sempre in piè; la quale sarebbe distribuita per tutti gli argini e per tutti i luoghi dell’esercito con guardie doppie poste da ogni quadro di quello; delle quali, parte stessono saldi, parte continuamente andassero dall’uno canto dello alloggiamento all’altro. E questo ordine che io dico, osserverei ancora di giorno quando io avessi il nemico propinquo. Quanto a dare il nome, e quello rinnovare ogni sera e fare l’altre cose che in simili guardie si usano, per essere cose note, non ne parlerò altrimenti. Solo ricorderò una cosa, per essere importantissima e che genera molto bene osservandola, e, non la osservando, molto male; la quale è, che si usi gran diligenza di chi la sera non alloggia dentro al campo e di chi vi viene di nuovo. E questo è facile cosa rivedere a chi alloggia con quello ordine che noi abbiamo disegnato; perchè, avendo ogni alloggiamento il numero degli uomini determinato, è facile cosa vedere se vi manca o se vi avanza uomini, e, quando ve ne manca senza licenza, punirgli come fuggitivi, e, se ve ne avanza, intendere chi sono, quello che fanno e dell’altre condizioni loro. Questa diligenza fa che il nemico non può, se non con difficultà, tenere pratica co’ tuoi capi ed essere consapevole de’ tuoi consigli. La quale cosa se da’ Romani non fusse stata osservata con diligenza, non poteva Claudio Nerone, avendo Annibale appresso, partirsi da’ suoi alloggiamenti ch’egli aveva in Lucania, e andare e tornare dalla Marca, senza che Annibale ne avesse presentito alcuna cosa. Ma egli non basta fare questi ordini buoni, se non si fanno con una gran severità osservare; perchè non è cosa che voglia tanta osservanza, quanta si ricerca in uno esercito. Però le leggi a fortificazione di quello deggiono essere aspre e dure, e lo esecutore durissimo. I Romani punivano di pena capitale chi mancava nelle guardie, chi abbandonava il luogo che gli era dato a combattere, chi portava cosa alcuna di nascosto fuora degli alloggiamenti, se alcuno dicesse avere fatta qualche cosa egregia nella zuffa e non l’avesse fatta, se alcuno avesse combattuto fuora del comandamento del capitano, se alcuno avesse per timore gittato via l’armi. E quando egli occorreva che una coorte o una Legione intera avesse fatto simile errore, per non gli fare morire tutti, gl’imborsavano tutti e ne traevano la decima parte, e quegli morivano. La quale pena era in modo fatta che, se ciascuno non la sentiva, ciascuno nondimeno la temeva. E perchè dove sono le punizioni grandi, vi deggiono essere ancora i premi, a volere che gli uomini ad un tratto temano o sperino, egli avevano proposti premj a ogni egregio fatto: come a colui che, combattendo, salvava la vita ad uno suo cittadino, a chi prima saliva sopra il muro delle terre nemiche, a chi prima entrava negli alloggiamenti de’ nemici, a chi avesse, combattendo, ferito o morto il nemico, a chi lo avesse gittato da cavallo. E così qualunque atto virtuoso era da’ Consoli riconosciuto e premiato e, pubblicamente, da ciascuno lodato; e quegli che conseguitavano doni per alcuna di queste cose, oltre alla gloria e alla fama che ne acquistavano tra’ soldati, poi ch’egli erano tornati nella patria, con solenni pompe e con gran dimostrazioni tra gli amici e parenti le dimostravano. Non è adunque maraviglia se quel popolo acquistò tanto imperio, avendo tanta osservanza di pena e di merito verso di quegli che, o per loro bene o per loro male operare, meritassono o lode o biasimo; delle quali cose converrebbe osservare la maggior parte. Nè mi pare da tacere un modo di pena da loro osservato; il quale era che, come il reo era, innanzi al tribuno o il Consolo, convinto, era da quello leggiermente con una verga percosso; dopo la quale percossa, al reo era lecito fuggire e a tutti i soldati ammazzarlo; in modo che subito ciascuno gli traeva o sassi o dardi, o con altre armi lo percoteva; di qualità ch’egli andava poco vivo e radissimi ne campavano; e a quegli tali campati non era lecito tornare a casa, se non con tanti incommodi e ignominie, ch’egli era molto meglio morire. Vedesi questo modo essere quasi osservato da’ Svizzeri, i quali fanno i condannati ammazzare popularmente dagli altri soldati. Il che è bene considerato e ottimamente fatto; perchè, a volere che uno non sia defensore d’uno reo, il maggiore rimedio che si truovi è farlo punitore di quello; perchè con altro rispetto lo favorisce e con altro desiderio brama la punizione sua, quando egli proprio ne è esecutore, che quando la esecuzione perviene ad uno altro. Volendo adunque che uno non sia negli errori sua favorito da uno popolo, gran rimedio è fare che il popolo l’abbia egli a giudicare. A fortificazione di questo si può addurre lo esemplo di Manlio Capitolino; il quale, essendo accusato dal senato, fu difeso dal popolo infino a tanto che non ne diventò giudice; ma, diventato arbitro nella causa sua, lo condannò a morte. È adunque un modo di punire questo da levare i tumulti e da fare osservare la giustizia. E perchè a frenare gli uomini armati non bastono nè il timore delle leggi, nè quello degli uomini, vi aggiugnevano gli antichi l’autorità di Iddio; e però con cerimonie grandissime facevano a’ loro soldati giurare l’osservanza della disciplina militare, acciocchè contrafaccendo, non solamente avessero a temere le leggi e gli uomini, ma Iddio; e usavano ogni industria per empiergli di religione.

Batista. Permettevano i Romani che negli loro eserciti fussero femmine, o vi si usasse di questi giuochi oziosi che si usano oggi?

Fabrizio. Proibivano l’uno e l’altro. E non era questa proibizione molto difficile, perchè egli erano tanti gli esercizj ne’ quali tenevano ogni dì i soldati, ora particolarmente, ora generalmente occupati, che non restava loro tempo a pensare o a Venere o a’ giuochi, nè ad altre cose che facciano i soldati sediziosi e inutili.

Batista. Piacemi. Ma ditemi: quando l’esercito si aveva a levare, che ordine tenevano?

Fabrizio. Sonava la tromba capitana tre volte. Al primo suono si levavano le tende e facevano le balle; al secondo caricavano le some; al terzo movevano in quel modo dissi di sopra, con gli impedimenti dopo, ogni parte di armati, mettendo le Legioni in mezzo. E però voi avresti a fare muovere uno battaglione ausiliare e, dopo quello, i suoi particolari impedimenti e, con quegli la quarta parte degli impedimenti pubblici; che sarebbero tutti quegli che fussero alloggiati in uno di quegli quadri che poco fa dimostrammo. E però converrebbe avere ciascuno di este consegnato ad uno battaglione, acciocchè, movendosi l’esercito, ciascuno sapesse quale luogo fusse il suo nel camminare. E così debbe andare via ogni battaglione co’ suoi impedimenti proprj, e con la quarta parte de’ pubblici a spalle, in quel modo dimostrammo che camminava l’esercito Romano.

Batista. Nel porre lo alloggiamento avevano eglino altri rispetti che quegli avete detti?

Fabrizio. Io vi dico di nuovo che i Romani volevano, nello alloggiare, potere tenere la consueta forma del modo loro; il che per osservare, non avevano alcuno rispetto. Ma quanto all’altre considerazioni, ne avevano due principali: l’una, di porsi in luogo sano; l’altra, di porsi dove il nemico non lo potesse assediare e torgli la via dell’acqua o delle vettovaglie. Per fuggire adunque le infermità, ei fuggivano i luoghi paludosi o esposti a’ venti nocivi. Il che conoscevano non tanto dalle qualità del sito quanto dal viso degli abitatori, e quando gli vedevano male colorati o bolsi, o di altra infezione ripieni, non vi alloggiavano. Quanto all’altra parte di non essere assediato, conviene considerare la natura del luogo, dove sono posti gli amici e dove i nemici, e da questo fare tua coniettura se tu puoi essere assediato o no. E però conviene che il capitano sia peritissimo de’ siti de’ paesi, e abbia intorno assai che ne abbiano la medesima perizia. Fuggesi ancora le malattie e la fame, col non fare disordinare l’esercito; perchè, a volerlo mantenere sano, conviene operare che i soldati dormano sotto le tende, che si alloggi dove sieno arbori che facciano ombra, dove sia legname da potere cuocere il cibo, che non cammini per il caldo. E però bisogna trarlo dello alloggiamento innanzi dì, la state, e di verno guardarsi che non cammini per le nevi e per i ghiacci senza avere commodità di fare fuoco, e non manchi del vestito necessario e non bea acque malvage. Quelli che ammalano a caso, farli curare da’ medici; perchè uno capitano non ha rimedio quando egli ha a combattere con le malattie e col nemico. Ma niuna cosa è tanto utile a mantenere l’esercito sano quanto è l’esercizio; e però gli antichi ciascuno dì gli facevano esercitare. Donde si vede quanto questo esercizio vale; perchè, negli alloggiamenti, ti fa sano e, nelle zuffe, vittorioso. Quanto alla fame, non solamente è necessario vedere che il nemico non t’impedisca la vettovaglia, ma provvedere donde tu abbia a averla, e vedere che quella che tu hai, non si sperda. E però ti conviene averne sempre in munizione coll’esercito per uno mese, e dipoi tassare i vicini amici che giornalmente te ne provveggano; farne munizioni in qualche luogo forte e, sopra tutto, dispensarla con diligenza, dandone ogni giorno a ciascuno una ragionevole misura; e osservare in modo questa parte ch’ella non ti disordini, perchè ogni altra cosa nella guerra si può col tempo vincere, questa sola col tempo vince te. Nè sarà mai alcuno tuo nemico, il quale ti possa superare con la fame, che cerchi vincerti col ferro; perchè, se la vittoria non è sì onorevole, ella è più sicura e più certa. Non può adunque fuggire la fame quell’esercito che non è osservante di giustizia e che licenziosamente consuma quello che gli pare; perchè l’uno disordine fa che la vettovaglia non vi viene, l’altro, che la venuta inutilmente si consuma. Però ordinavano gli antichi che si consumasse quella che davano e in quel tempo che volevano; perchè niuno soldato mangiava se non quando il capitano. Il che quanto sia osservato da’ moderni eserciti lo sa ciascuno, e meritamente non si possono chiamare ordinati e sobrj come gli antichi, ma licenziosi ed ebbriachi.

Batista. Voi dicesti nel principio dello ordinare lo alloggiamento, che non volevi stare solamente in su due battaglioni, ma che ne volevi torre quattro, per mostrare come uno esercito giusto si alloggiava. Però vorrei mi dicessi due cose: l’una, quando io avessi più o meno gente, come io avessi ad alloggiare: l’altra, che numero di soldati vi basterebbe a combattere contro a qualunque nemico?

Fabrizio. Alla prima domanda vi rispondo che, se l’esercito è più o meno quattro o semila fanti si lieva od aggiugne ordini di alloggiamenti tanto che basti; e con questo modo si può ire nel più e nel meno in infinito. Nondimeno i Romani, quando congiugnevano insieme due eserciti Consolari, facevano due alloggiamenti e voltavano la parte de’ disarmati l’una all’altra. Quanto alla seconda domanda, vi replico come l’esercito ordinario Romano era intorno a ventiquattromila soldati; ma quando maggiore forza gli premeva, i più che ne mettevano insieme erano cinquantamila. Con questo numero si opposono a dugentomila Francesi, che gli assaltarono dopo la guerra prima ch’egli ebbero co’ Cartaginesi. Con questo medesimo si opposono ad Annibale; e avete a notare che i Romani e i Greci hanno fatto la guerra co’ pochi, affortificati dall’ordine e dall’arte; gli occidentali o gli orientali l’hanno fatta con la moltitudine, ma l’una di queste nazioni si serve del furore naturale, come sono gli occidentali, l’altra della grande ubbidienza che quegli uomini hanno agli loro re. Ma in Grecia e in Italia, non essendo il furore naturale nè la naturale reverenza verso i loro re, è stato necessario voltarsi alla disciplina; la quale è di tanta forza, ch’ella ha fatto che i pochi hanno potuto vincere il furore e la naturale ostinazione degli assai. Però vi dico che, volendo imitare i Romani e i Greci, non si debbe passare il numero di cinquantamila soldati, anzi piuttosto torne meno; perchè i più fanno confusione, nè lasciano osservare la disciplina e gli ordini imparati. E Pirro usava dire che con quindicimila uomini voleva assalire il mondo. Ma passiamo ad un’altra parte. Noi abbiamo a questo nostro esercito fatta vincere una giornata, e mostro i travagli che in essa zuffa possono occorrere; abbiànlo fatto camminare, e narrato da quali impedimenti, camminando, egli possa essere circumvenuto; e in fine lo abbiamo alloggiato dove, non solamente si dee pigliare un poco di requie delle passate fatiche, ma ancora pensare come si dee finire la guerra perchè negli alloggiamenti si maneggia di molte cose, massime restandoti ancora de’ nemici alla campagna e delle terre sospette, delle quali è bene assicurarsi, e quelle che sono nemiche espugnare. Però è necessario venire a queste dimostrazioni e passare queste difficultà con quella gloria che infino a quì abbiamo militato. Però, scendendo a’ particolari, dico che, se ti occorresse che assai uomini o assai popoli facessero una cosa che fusse a te utile e a loro di danno grande, come sarebbe o disfare le mura delle loro città, o mandare in esilio molti di loro, ti è necessario o ingannargli in modo che ciascuno non creda che tocchi a lui, tanto che, non sovvenendo l’uno all’altro, si truovino dipoi oppressi tutti senza rimedio; ovvero a tutti comandare quello che deggiono fare in uno medesimo giorno, acciocchè, credendo ciascuno essere solo a chi sia il comandamento fatto, pensi ad ubbidire e non a’ rimedi; e così fia senza tumulto da ciascuno il tuo comandamento eseguito. Se tu avessi sospetta la fede di alcuno popolo e volessi assicurartene e occuparlo allo improvvisto, per potere colorire il disegno tuo più facilmente, non puoi far meglio che comunicare con quello alcuno tuo disegno, richiederlo di aiuto, e mostrare di voler fare altra impresa e di avere lo animo alieno da ogni pensiero di lui; il che farà che non penserà alla difesa sua, non credendo che tu pensi a offenderlo, e ti darà commodità di potere facilmente soddisfare al tuo desiderio. Quando tu presentissi che fusse nel tuo esercito alcuno che tenesse avvisato il tuo nemico de’ tuoi disegni, non puoi fare meglio, a volerti valere del suo malvagio animo, che comunicargli quelle cose che tu non vuoi fare e quelle che tu vuoi fare, tacere, e dire di dubitare delle cose che tu non dubiti e, quelle di che tu dubiti, nascondere, il che farà fare al nemico qualche impresa, credendo sapere i disegni tuoi, dove facilmente tu lo potrai ingannare e opprimere. Se tu disegnassi, come fece Claudio Nerone, diminuire il tuo esercito, mandando aiuto ad alcuno amico, e che il nemico non se ne accorgesse, è necessario non diminuire gli alloggiamenti, ma mantenere i segni e gli ordini interi, faccendo i medesimi fuochi e le medesime guardie per tutto. Così se col tuo esercito si congiungesse nuova gente, e volessi che il nemico non sapesse che tu fossi ingrossato, è necessario non accrescere gli alloggiamenti; perchè, tenere secreto le azioni e i disegni suoi, fu sempre utilissimo. Donde Metello, essendo con gli eserciti in Ispagna, a uno che lo domandò quello che voleva fare l’altro giorno, rispose che se la camicia sua lo sapesse, l’arderebbe. Marco Crasso a uno che lo domandava quando moverebbe l’esercito, disse: Credi tu essere solo a non sentire le trombe? Se tu desiderassi intendere i secreti del tuo nemico e conoscere gli ordini suoi, hanno usato alcuni mandar gli ambasciadori e con quegli, sotto veste di famigli, uomini peritissimi in guerra; i quali, presa occasione di vedere l’esercito nemico e considerare le fortezze e le debolezze sue gli hanno dato occasione di superarlo. Alcuni hanno mandato in esilio uno loro familiare e, mediante quello, conosciuti i disegni dello avversario suo. Intendonsi ancora simili segreti da’ nemici, quando a questo effetto ne pigliassi prigioni. Mario, nella guerra che fece co’ Cimbri per conoscere la fede di quegli Franciosi che allora abitavano la Lombardia ed erano collegati col popolo Romano, mandò loro lettere aperte e suggellate; e nelle aperte scriveva che non aprissero le suggellate se non al tale tempo; e innanzi a quel tempo ridomandandole e trovandole aperte, conobbe la fede loro non essere intera. Hanno alcuni capitani, essendo assaltati, non voluto ire a trovare il nemico, ma sono iti ad assalire il paese suo e costrettolo a tornare a difendere la casa sua. Il che molte volte è riuscito bene, perchè i tuoi soldati cominciano a vincere, a empiersi di preda e di confidenza; quegli del nemico si sbigottiscono, parendo loro di vincitori diventare perditori. In modo che a chi ha fatta questa diversione, molte volte è riuscito bene. Ma solo si può fare per colui che ha il suo paese più forte che non è quel del nemico, perchè, quando fusse altrimenti, andrebbe a perdere. È stata spesso cosa utile a uno capitano che si truova assediato negli alloggiamenti dal nemico, muovere pratica d’accordo e fare triegua con seco per alcuno giorno; il che suole fare i nemici più negligenti in ogni azione, tale che, valendoti della negligenza loro, puoi avere facilmente occasione di uscire loro delle mani. Per questa via Silla si liberò due volte da’ nemici, e con questo medesimo inganno Asdrubale in Ispagna uscì delle forze di Claudio Nerone, il quale lo aveva assediato. Giova ancora, a liberarsi dalle forze del nemico, fare qualche cosa, oltre alle dette, che lo tenga a bada. Questo si fa in due modi: o assaltarlo con parte delle forze, acciocchè, intento a quella zuffa, dia commodità al resto delle tue genti di potersi salvare; o fare surgere qualche nuovo accidente che, per la novità della cosa lo faccia maravigliare e per questa cagione stare dubbio e fermo; come voi sapete che fece Annibale che, essendo rinchiuso da Fabio Massimo, pose di notte facelline accese tra le corna di molti buoi, tanto che Fabio, sospeso da questa novità, non pensò impedirgli altrimenti il passo. Debbe uno capitano, tra tutte l’altre sue azioni, con ogni arte ingegnarsi di dividere le forze del nemico, o col fargli sospetti i suoi uomini ne’ quali confida, o con dargli cagione ch’egli abbia a separare le sue genti e, per questo, diventare più debole. Il primo modo si fa col riguardare le cose di alcuno di quegli ch’egli ha appresso, come è conservare nella guerra le sue genti e le sue possessioni, rendendogli i figliuoli o altri suoi necessari senza taglia. Voi sapete che Annibale, avendo abbruciato intorno a Roma tutti i campi, fece solo restare salvi quegli di Fabio Massimo. Sapete come Coriolano, venendo coll’esercito a Roma, conservò le possessioni dei nobili e quelle della plebe arse e saccheggiò. Metello, avendo l’esercito contro a Iugurta, tutti gli oratori che da Iugurta gli erano mandati, erano richiesti da lui che gli dessono Iugurta prigione: e a quegli medesimi scrivendo dipoi della medesima materia lettere, operò in modo che in poco tempo Iugurta insospettì di tutti i suoi consiglieri e in diversi modi gli spense. Essendo Annibale rifuggito ad Antioco, gli oratori Romani lo praticarono tanto domesticamente, che Antioco, insospettito di lui, non prestò dipoi più fede a’ suoi consigli. Quanto al dividere le genti nemiche, non ci è il più certo modo che fare assaltare il paese di parte di quelle acciocchè, essendo costrette andare a difendere quello, abbandonino la guerra. Questo modo tenne Fabio, avendo all’incontro del suo esercito le forze de’ Francesi, de’ Toscani, Umbri e Sanniti. Tito Didio, avendo poche genti rispetto a quelle de’ nemici e aspettando una legione da Roma e volendo i nemici ire ad incontrarla, acciò non vi andassero, dette voce per tutto il suo esercito di volere l’altro giorno fare giornata co’ nemici; dipoi tenne modi che alcuni de’ prigioni ch’egli aveva, ebbono occasione di fuggirsi; i quali, referendo l’ordine del Consolo di combattere l’altro giorno fecero che i nemici, per non diminuire le loro forze, non andarono ad incontrare quella Legione; e per questa via si condusse salva; il quale modo non servì a dividere le forze de’ nemici, ma a duplicare le sue. Hanno usato alcuni, per dividere le sue forze, lasciarlo entrare nel paese suo e, in pruova, lasciatogli pigliare di molte terre, acciocchè, mettendo, in quelle, guardie diminuisca le sue forze; e per questa via avendolo fatto debole, assaltatolo e vinto. Alcuni altri, volendo andare in una provincia, hanno finto di volerne assaltare un’altra e usata tanta industria che, subito entrati in quella dove e’ non si dubitava ch’egli entrassono, l’hanno prima vinta che il nemico sia stato a tempo a soccorrerla. Perchè il nemico tuo, non essendo certo se tu se’ per tornare indietro al luogo prima da te minacciato, è costretto non abbandonare l’uno luogo e soccorrere l’altro; e così spesso non difende nè l’uno nè l’altro. Importa, oltre alle cose dette, a uno capitano, se nasce sedizione o discordia tra’ soldati, saperle con arte spegnere. Il migliore modo è gastigare i capi degli errori; ma farlo in modo che tu gli abbia prima oppressi che essi se ne sieno potuti accorgere. Il modo è: se sono discosto da te, non chiamare solo i nocenti, ma insieme con loro tutti gli altri, acciocchè, non credendo che sia per cagione di punirgli, non diventino contumaci, ma dieno commodità alla punizione. Quando sieno presenti, si dee farsi forte con quegli che non sono in colpa, e, mediante lo aiuto loro, punirgli. Quando ella fusse discordia tra loro, il migliore modo è presentargli al pericolo, la quale paura gli suole sempre rendere uniti. Ma quello che sopra ogni altra cosa tiene l’esercito unito, è la reputazione del capitano, la quale solamente nasce dalla virtù sua, perchè nè sangue nè autorità la dette mai senza la virtù. E la prima cosa che a uno capitano si aspetta a fare, è tenere i suoi soldati puniti e pagati; perchè, qualunque volta manca il pagamento, conviene che manchi la punizione; perchè tu non puoi gastigare uno soldato che rubi, se tu non lo paghi, nè quello, volendo vivere, si può astenere dal rubare. Ma se tu lo paghi e non lo punisci, diventa in ogni modo insolente, perchè tu diventi di poca stima, dove chi capita non può mantenere la dignità del suo grado; e non lo mantenendo, ne seguita di necessità il tumulto e le discordie, che sono la rovina d’uno esercito. Avevano gli antichi capitani una molestia della quale i presenti ne sono quasi liberi, la quale era di interpretare a loro proposito gli auguri sinistri; perchè se cadeva una saetta in uno esercito, s’egli scurava il sole o la luna, se veniva un tremuoto, se il capitano o nel montare o nello scendere da cavallo cadeva, era da’ soldati interpretato sinistramente, e generava in loro tanta paura che, venendo alla giornata, facilmente l’arebbero perduta. E però gli antichi capitani, tosto che uno simile accidente nasceva, o e’ mostravano la cagione di esso e lo riducevano a cagione naturale, o e’ l’interpretavano a loro proposito. Cesare, cadendo in Affrica nello uscire di nave, disse: Affrica io t’ho presa. E molti hanno renduto la cagione dello oscurare della luna e de’ tremuoti; le quali cose ne’ tempi nostri non possono accadere, sì per non essere i nostri uomini tanto superstiziosi, sì perchè la nostra religione rimuove in tutto da se tali opinioni. Pure, quando egli occorresse, si dee imitare gli ordini degli antichi. Quando o fame o altra naturale necessità o umana passione ha condotto il nemico tuo ad una ultima disperazione e, cacciato da quella, venga a combattere teco, dèi starti dentro a’ tuoi alloggiamenti e, quanto è in tuo potere, fuggire la zuffa. Così fecero i Lacedemoni contro a’ Messeni, così fece Cesare contro ad Afranio e Petrejo. Essendo Fulvio Consolo contro a’ Cimbri, fece molti giorni continui alla sua cavalleria assaltare i nemici, e considerò come quegli uscivano degli alloggiamenti per seguitargli; donde che quello pose uno agguato dietro agli alloggiamenti de’ Cimbri e, fattigli assaltare da’ cavalli e i Cimbri uscendo degli alloggiamenti per seguitargli, Fulvio gli occupò e saccheggiogli. È stato di grande utilità ad alcuno capitano, avendo l’esercito propinquo all’esercito nemico, mandare le sue genti con le insegne nemiche a rubare ed ardere il suo paese proprio; donde che i nemici hanno creduto che sieno genti che vengano loro in aiuto, e sono ancora essi corsi ad aiutare far loro la preda, e per questo disordinatisi, e dato facultà allo avversario loro di vincergli. Questo termine usò Alessandro di Epiro combattendo contra agli Illirici e Leptene siracusano contra a’ Cartaginesi; ed all’uno ed all’altro riuscì il disegno facilmente. Molti hanno vinto il nemico, dando a quello facultà di mangiare e bere fuora di modo, simulando di avere paura e lasciando gli alloggiamenti suoi pieni di vino e di armenti; de’ quali, sendosi ripieno il nemico sopra ogni uso naturale lo hanno assaltato e, con suo danno, vinto. Così fece Tamiri contra a Ciro e Tiberio Gracco contra agli Spagnuoli. Alcuni hanno avvelenati i vini e l’altre cose da cibarsi per potere più facilmente vincergli. Io dissi poco fa come io non trovavo che gli antichi tenessero la notte ascolte fuora, e stimavo lo facessero per schifare i mali che ne poteva nascere; perchè si truova che, non ch’altro, le velette che pongono il giorno a velettare il nemico, sono state cagioni della rovina di colui che ve le pose, perchè molte volte è accaduto che, essendo state prese, è stato loro fatto fare per forza il cenno col quale avevano a chiamare i suoi; i quali al segno venendo, sono stati o morti o presi. Giova ad ingannare il nemico qualche volta variare una tua consuetudine; in sulla quale fondandosi quello, ne rimane rovinato; come fece già uno capitano il quale, solendo far fare cenno a’ suoi per la venuta de’ nemici, la notte, col fuoco e, il dì, col fumo, comandò che senza alcuna intermissione si facesse fumo e fuoco, e dipoi, sopravvenendo il nemico, si restasse; il quale, credendo venire senza essere visto, non veggendo fare segni da essere scoperto, fece, per ire disordinato, più facile la vittoria al suo avversario. Mennone Rodio, volendo trarre de’ luoghi forti l’esercito nemico mandò uno, sotto colore di fuggitivo, il quale affermava come il suo esercito era in discordia e che la maggior parte di quello si partiva; e per dare fede alla cosa, fece fare in pruova certi tumulti tra gli alloggiamenti, donde che il nemico pensando di poterlo rompere, assaltandolo, fu rotto. Debbesi, oltre alle cose dette, avere riguardo di non condurre il nemico in ultima disperazione; a che ebbe riguardo Cesare combattendo co’ Tedeschi; il quale aperse loro la via, veggendo come, non si potendo fuggire, la necessità gli faceva gagliardi; e volle più tosto la fatica di seguirgli quando essi fuggivano, che il pericolo di vincergli, quando si difendevano. Lucullo, veggendo come alcuni cavalli di Macedonia ch’erano seco, se ne andavano dalla parte nemica, subito fe’ sonare a battaglia e comandò che l’altre genti li seguissono; donde i nemici, credendosi che Lucullo volesse appiccare la zuffa, andarono a urtare i Macedoni con tale impeto, che quegli furono costretti difendersi; e così diventarono contra a loro voglia di fuggitivi combattitori. Importa ancora il sapersi assicurare d’una terra, quando tu dubiti della sua fede, vinta che tu hai la giornata o prima, il che t’insegneranno alcuni esempj antichi. Pompeo, dubitando de’ Catinensi li pregò che fussero contenti accettare alcuni infermi ch’egli aveva nel suo esercito; mandato, sotto abito di infermi, uomini robustissimi occupò la terra. Publio Valerio, temendo della fede degli Epidauri, fece venire, come noi diremmo, un perdono a una chiesa fuor della terra, e, quando tutto il popolo era ito per la perdonanza, serrò le porte e dipoi non ricevè dentro se non quegli di chi egli confidava. Alessandro Magno, volendo andare in Asia e assicurarsi di Tracia, ne menò seco tutti i Principi di quella provincia, dando loro provvisione, e a’ populari di Tracia prepose uomini vili; e così fece i Principi contenti, pagandogli, e i popolari quieti, non avendo capi che gli inquietassono. Ma tra tutte le cose con le quali i capitani si guadagnano i popoli, sono gli esempj di castità e di giustizia; come fu quello di Scipione in Ispagna, quando egli rendè quella fanciulla di corpo bellissima al padre e al marito; la quale gli fece più che coll’armi guadagnare la Ispagna. Cesare, avendo fatto pagare quelle legne ch’egli aveva adoperato per fare lo steccato intorno al suo esercito in Francia, si guadagnò tanto nome di giusto, ch’egli si facilitò lo acquisto di quella provincia. Io non so che mi resti a parlare altro sopra questi accidenti; nè ci resta sopra questa materia parte alcuna che non sia stata da noi disputata. Solo ci manca a dire del modo dell’espugnare e difendere le terre; il che sono per fare volentieri, se già a voi non rincrescesse.

Batista. La umanità vostra è tanta, ch’ella ci fa conseguire i desiderj nostri senza avere paura di essere tenuti prosuntuosi; poichè voi liberamente ne offerite quello che noi ci saremmo vergognati di domandarvi. Però vi diciamo solo questo: che a noi non potete fare maggiore nè più grato beneficio, che fornire questo ragionamento. Ma prima che passiate a quell’altra materia, solveteci uno dubbio: s’egli è meglio continuare la guerra ancora il verno, come si usa oggi, o farla solamente la state e ire alle stanze il verno, come gli antichi.

Fabrizio. Ecco, che se non fusse la prudenza del domandatore, egli rimaneva indietro una parte che merita considerazione. Io vi dico, di nuovo, che gli antichi facevano ogni cosa meglio e con maggiore prudenza di noi; e se nelle altre cose si fa qualche errore, nelle cose della guerra si fanno tutti. Non è cosa più imprudente o più pericolosa a uno capitano, che fare la guerra il verno, e molto più pericolo porta colui che la fa che quello che l’aspetta. La ragione è questa: tutta la industria che si usa nella disciplina militare, si usa per essere ordinato a fare una giornata col tuo nemico, perchè questo è il fine al quale ha ad ire uno capitano, perchè la giornata ti dà vinta la guerra o perduta. Chi sa adunque meglio ordinarla; chi ha l’esercito suo meglio disciplinato, ha più vantaggio in questa e più può sperare di vincerla. Dall’altro canto non è cosa più nemica degli ordini, che sono i siti aspri o i tempi freddi e acquosi; perchè il sito aspro non ti lascia distendere le tue copie secondo la disciplina, i tempi freddi e acquosi non ti lasciano tenere le genti insieme, nè ti puoi unito presentare al nemico, ma ti conviene alloggiare disiunto di necessità e senza ordine avendo ad ubbidire a’ castegli, a’ borghi e alle ville che ti ricevano, in maniera che tutta quella fatica da te usata per disciplinare il tuo esercito è vana. Nè vi maravigliate se oggi guerreggiano il verno; perchè, essendo gli eserciti senza la disciplina, non conoscono il danno che fa loro il non alloggiare uniti, perchè non dà loro noia non potere tenere quegli ordini e osservare quella disciplina che non hanno. Pure e’ doverrebbono vedere di quanti danni è stato cagione il campeggiare la vernata, e ricordarsi come i Francesi, l’anno millecinquecentotre, furono rotti in sul Garigliano dal verno e non dagli Spagnuoli. Perchè, come io vi ho detto, chi assalta ha ancora più disavvantaggio; perchè il mal tempo l’offende più, essendo in casa altri e volendo fare la guerra. Onde è necessitato, o, per stare insieme, sostenere la incommodità dell’acqua e del freddo, o, per fuggirla, dividere le genti. Ma colui che aspetta può eleggere il luogo a suo modo e aspettarla con le sue genti fresche; e quelle può, in uno subito unire ed andare a trovare una banda delle genti nemiche, le quali non possono resistere all’impeto loro. Così furono rotti i Francesi, e così sempre fieno rotti coloro che assalteranno la vernata uno nemico che abbia in se prudenza. Chi vuole adunque che le forze, gli ordini, le discipline e la virtù in alcuna parte non gli vaglia, faccia guerra alla campagna il verno. E perchè i Romani volevano che tutte queste cose in che eglino mettevano tanta industria valessono loro, fuggivano non altrimenti le vernate, che l’alpi aspre e i luoghi difficili e qualunque altra cosa gli impedisse a potere mostrare l’arte e la virtù loro. Sicchè questo basti alla domanda vostra, e vegnamo a trattare della difesa ed offesa delle terre e de’ siti e della edificazione loro.

LIBRO SETTIMO

VOi dovete sapere come le terre e le rocche possono essere forti o per natura o per industria. Per natura sono forti quelle che sono circondate da fiumi o da paludi, come è Mantova e Ferrara, o che sono poste sopra uno scoglio o sopra uno monte erto, come Monaco e Santo Leo; perchè quelle poste sopra a’ monti, che non sieno molto difficili a salirgli, sono oggi, rispetto alle artiglierie e le cave, debolissime. E però, il più delle volte nello edificare si cerca oggi uno piano, per farlo forte con la industria. La prima industria è fare le mura ritorte e piene di volture e di ricetti; la quale cosa fa che il nemico non si può accostare a quelle, potendo facilmente essere ferito non solamente a fronte, ma per fianco. Se le mura si fanno alte, sono troppo esposte a’ colpi dell’artiglieria; s’elle si fanno basse, sono facili a scalare. Se tu fai i fossi innanzi a quelle per dare difficoltà alle scale, se avviene che il nemico gli riempia, il che può uno grosso esercito fare facilmente, resta il muro in preda del nemico. Pertanto io credo, salvo sempre migliore giudicio, che a volere provvedere all’uno e all’altro inconveniente, si debba fare il muro alto e con fossi di dentro e non di fuora. Questo è il più forte modo di edificare che si faccia, perchè ti difende dall’artiglierie e dalle scale, e non da facilità al nemico di riempiere il fosso. Debbe essere adunque il muro alto di quale altezza vi occorre maggiore, e grosso non meno di tre braccia, per rendere più difficile il farlo rovinare. Debbe avere poste le torri con gli intervalli di dugento braccia; debbe il fosso dentro essere largo almeno trenta braccia e fondo dodici; e tutta la terra che si cava per fare il fosso, sia gettata di verso la città, e sia sostenuta da uno muro che si parta dal fondo del fosso e vadia tanto alto sopra la terra che uno uomo si cuopra dietro a quello: la quale cosa farà la profondità del fosso maggiore. Nel fondo del fosso ogni dugento braccia vuole essere una casamatta che, con l’artiglierie, offenda qualunque scendesse in quello. L’artiglierie grosse che difendono la città, si pongano dietro al muro che chiude il fosso; perchè, per difendere il muro davanti, sendo alto, non si possono adoperare commodamente altro che le minute o mezzane. Se il nemico ti viene a scalare, l’altezza del primo muro facilmente ti difende. Se viene con l’artiglierie, gli conviene prima battere il muro primo; ma battuto ch’egli è, perchè la natura di tutte le batterie è fare cadere il muro di verso la parte battuta, viene la rovina del muro, non trovando fosso che la riceva e nasconda, a raddoppiare la profondità del fosso; in modo che passare più innanzi non ti è possibile, per trovare una rovina che ti ritiene, uno fosso che ti impedisce e l’artiglierie nemiche che dal muro del fosso sicuramente ti ammazzano. Solo vi è questo rimedio: riempire il fosso; il che è difficilissimo, sì perchè la capacità sua è grande, sì per la difficoltà che è nello accostarvisi, essendo le mura sinuose e concave; tra le quali, per le ragioni dette, con difficoltà si può entrare, e dipoi avendo a salire con la materia su per una rovina che ti dà difficoltà grandissima; tantochè io fo una città così ordinata al tutto inespugnabile.

Batista. Quando si facesse, oltre al fosso di dentro, ancora uno fosso di fuora, non sarebbe ella più forte?

Fabrizio. Sarebbe senza dubbio, ma il ragionamento mio è, volendo fare uno fosso solo, ch’egli sta meglio dentro che fuora.

Batista. Vorresti voi che ne’ fossi fusse acqua, o gli ameresti asciutti?

Fabrizio. Le opinioni sono diverse; perchè i fossi pieni d’acqua ti guardano dalle cave sutterranee, i fossi senza acqua ti fanno più difficile il riempierli. Ma io considerato tutto, li farei senza acqua, perchè sono più sicuri; e si è visto di verno ghiacciare i fossi e fare facile la espugnazione di una città, come intervenne alla Mirandola, quando papa Iulio la campeggiava. E per guardarmi dalle cave, gli farei profondi tanto che chi volesse andare più sotto trovasse l’acqua. Le rocche ancora edificherei, quanto a’ fossi e alle mura, in simile modo, acciocch’elle avessero la simile difficoltà a espugnarle. Una cosa bene voglio ricordare a chi difende le città: e questo è, che non facciano bastioni fuora e che sieno discosto dalle mura di quelle, ed un’altra a chi fabbrica le rocche: e questo è, che non faccia ridotto alcuno in quelle, nel quale chi vi è dentro, perduto il primo muro, si possa ritirare. Quello che mi fa dare il primo consiglio è che niuno debbe fare cosa mediante la quale, senza rimedio, tu cominci a perdere la tua prima riputazione; la quale, perdendosi, fa stimare meno gli altri ordini tuoi e sbigottire coloro che hanno preso la tua difesa. E sempre t’interverrà questo che io dico, quando tu faccia bastioni fuora della terra che tu abbia a difendere; perchè sempre gli perderai, non si potendo oggi le cose piccole difendere, quando che sieno sottoposte al furore delle artiglierie; in modo che, perdendoli, fieno principio e cagione della tua rovina. Genova, quando si ribellò dal Re Luigi di Francia, fece alcuni bastioni su per quegli colli che gli sono d’intorno; i quali, come furono perduti, che si perderono subito, fecero ancora perdere la città. Quanto al consiglio secondo, affermo niuna cosa essere ad una rocca più pericolosa, che essere in quella ridotti da potersi ritirare; perchè la speranza che gli uomini hanno, abbandonando uno luogo, fa che egli si perde, e quello perduto fa perdere poi tutta la rocca. Di esemplo ci è fresco la perdita della rocca di Furlì, quando la Contessa Caterina la difendeva contra a Cesare Borgia, figliuolo di papa Alessandro VI il quale vi aveva condotto l’esercito dei Re di Francia. Era tutta quella fortezza piena di luoghi da ritirarsi dall’uno nell’altro; perchè vi era prima la cittadella; da quella alla rocca era uno fosso, in modo che vi si passava per uno ponte levatoio; la rocca era partita in tre parti, e ogni parte era divisa con fossi e con acque dall’altra, e con ponti da quello luogo a quell’altro si passava. Donde che il duca battè coll’artiglieria una di quelle parti della rocca e aperse parte del muro; donde messer Giovanni da Casale, che era preposto a quella guardia, non pensò di difendere quella apertura, ma l’abbandonò per ritirarsi negli altri luoghi; talchè, entrate le genti del duca senza contrasto in quella parte, in uno subito la presero tutta, perchè diventarono signori de’ ponti che andavano dall’uno membro all’altro. Perdessi adunque questa rocca, ch’era tenuta inespugnabile, per due difetti: l’uno per avere tanti ridotti, l’altro per non essere ciascuno ridotto signore de’ ponti suoi. Fece, dunque, la mala edificata fortezza e la poca prudenza di chi la difendeva, vergogna alla magnanima impresa della Contessa; la quale aveva avuto animo ad aspettare uno esercito, il quale nè il Re di Napoli nè il duca di Milano aveva aspettato. E benchè gli suoi sforzi non avessero buono fine, nondimeno ne riportò quello onore che aveva meritata la sua virtù. Il che fu testificato da molti epigrammi in quegli tempi in sua lode fatti. Se io avessi pertanto ad edificare rocche, io farei loro le mura gagliarde e i fossi nel modo abbiamo ragionato; nè vi farei dentro altro che case per abitare, e quelle farei deboli e basse di modo ch’elle non impedissero, a chi stesse nel mezzo della piazza, la vista di tutte le mura, acciocchè il capitano potesse vedere coll’occhio dove potesse soccorrere e che ciascuno intendesse che perdute le mura e il fosso, fusse perduta la rocca. E quando pure io vi facessi alcuno ridotto, farei i ponti divisi in tal modo che ciascuna parte fusse signore de’ ponti dalla banda sua, ordinando che battessero in su’ pilastri nel mezzo del fosso.

Batista. Voi avete detto che le cose piccole oggi non si possono difendere; ed egli mi pareva avere inteso al contrario: che quanto minore era una cosa, meglio si difendeva.

Fabrizio. Voi non avevi inteso bene; perchè egli non si può chiamare oggi forte quello luogo dove, chi lo difende non abbia spazio da ritirarsi con nuovi fossi e con nuovi ripari; perchè egli è tanto il furore delle artiglierie, che quello che si fonda in sulla guardia d’uno muro e d’uno riparo solo, s’inganna; e perchè i bastioni, volendo che non passino la misura ordinaria loro, perchè poi sarebbono terre e castella, non si fanno in modo che altri si possa ritirare, si perdono subito. È adunque savio partito lasciare stare questi bastioni di fuora e fortificare l’entrate delle terre e coprire le porte di quelle con rivellini, in modo che non si entri o esca della porta per linea retta, e dal rivellino alla porta sia uno fosso con uno ponte. Affortificansi ancora le porte con le saracinesche, per potere mettere dentro i suoi uomini quando sono usciti fuora a combattere e occorrendo che i nemici gli caccino, ovviare che alla mescolata non entrino dentro con loro. E però sono trovate queste, le quali gli antichi chiamano cateratte, le quali, calandosi, escludono i nemici e salvono gli amici; perchè in tale caso altri non si può valere nè de’ ponti nè della porta, sendo l’uno e l’altra occupata dalla calca.

Batista. Io ho vedute queste saracinesche che voi dite, fatte nella Magna di travette in forma d’una graticola di ferro, e queste nostre sono fatte di panconi tutte massicce. desidererei intendere donde nasca questa differenza e quali sieno più gagliarde.

Fabrizio. Io vi dico di nuovo che i modi e ordini della guerra in tutto il mondo, rispetto a quegli degli antichi, sono spenti; ma in Italia sono al tutto perduti; e se ci è cosa un poco più gagliarda, nasce dallo esemplo degli oltramontani. Voi potete avere inteso, e quest’altri se ne possono ricordare, con quanta debolezza si edificava innanzi che il Re Carlo di Francia nel mille quattrocento novantaquattro passasse in Italia. I merli si facevano sottili un mezzo braccio, le balestriere e le bombardiere si facevano con poca apertura di fuora e con assai dentro, e con molti altri difetti che, per non essere tedioso, lascerò; perchè da’ merli sottili facilmente si lievano le difese, e le bombardiere edificate in quel modo facilmente si aprono. Ora da’ Francesi si è imparato a fare il merlo largo e grosso, e che ancora le bombardiere sieno larghe dalla parte di dentro e ristringano infino alla metà del muro e poi, di nuovo, rallarghino infino alla corteccia di fuora; questo fa che l’artiglieria con fatica può levare le difese. Hanno pertanto i Francesi, come questi, molti altri ordini i quali, per non essere stati veduti da’ nostri, non sono stati considerati. Tra’ quali è questo modo di saracinesche fatte ad uso di graticola, il quale è di gran lunga migliore modo che il vostro; perchè, se voi avete per riparo d’una porta una saracinesca soda come la vostra, calandola, voi vi serrate dentro e non potete per quella offendere il nemico; talmente che quello con scure o con fuoco la può combattere sicuramente. Ma s’ella è fatta ad uso di graticola, potete, calata ch’ella è, per quelle maglie e per quegli intervalli difenderla con lance, con balestre e con ogni altra generazione d’armi.

Batista. Io ho veduto in Italia un altra usanza oltramontana, e questo è fare i carri delle artiglierie co’ razzi delle ruote torti verso i poli. Io vorrei sapere perchè gli fanno così, parendomi che sieno più forti diritti, come quegli delle ruote nostre.

Fabrizio. Non crediate mai che le cose che si partono da modi ordinarj sieno fatte a caso; e se voi credeste che gli facessero così per essere più begli, voi erreresti, perchè dove è necessaria la fortezza, non si fa conto della bellezza, ma tutto nasce perchè sono assai più sicuri e più gagliardi che i vostri. La ragione è questa: il carro, quando egli è carico, o e’ va pari, o e’ pende sopra il destro o sopra il sinistro lato. Quando egli va pari, le ruote parimente sostengono il peso, il quale, sendo diviso ugualmente tra loro, non le aggrava molto, ma, pendendo, viene ad avere tutto il pondo del carro addosso a quella ruota, sopra la quale egli pende. Se i razzi di quella sono diritti, possono facilmente fiaccarsi, perchè, pendendo la ruota, vengono i razzi a pendere ancora loro e a non sostenere il peso per il ritto. E così quando il carro va pari e quando eglino hanno meno peso, vengono ad essere più forti; quando il carro va torto e che vengono ad avere più peso, e’ sono più deboli. Al contrario appunto interviene a’ razzi torti de’ carri Francesi; perchè, quando il carro, pendendo sopra una banda, ponta sopra di loro, per essere ordinariamente torti, vengono allora ad essere diritti e potere sostenere gagliardamente tutto il peso; che quando il carro va pari e che sono torti lo sostengono mezzo. Ma torniamo alle nostre città e rocche. Usano ancora i Francesi, per più sicurtà delle porte delle terre loro e per potere nelle ossidioni più facilmente mettere e trarre genti di quelle, oltre alle cose dette, un altro ordine, del quale io non ne ho veduto ancora in Italia alcuno esemplo; e questo è che rizzano dalla punta di fuora del ponte levatoio due pilastri, e sopra ciascuno di quegli bilicono una trave; in modo che le metà di quelle vengano sopra il ponte, l’altre metà di fuora. Dipoi tutta quella parte che viene di fuora congiungono con travette, le quali tessono dall’una trave all’altra ad uso di graticola, e dalla parte di dentro appiccano alla punta di ciascuna trave una catena. Quando vogliono adunque chiudere il ponte dalla parte di fuora, eglino allentano le catene e lasciano calare tutta quella parte ingraticolata la quale, abbassandosi, chiude il ponte; e quando lo vogliono aprire, tirano le catene, e quella si viene ad alzare; e puossi alzare tanto che vi passi sotto uno uomo e non uno cavallo, e tanto che vi passi il cavallo e l’uomo, e chiuderla ancora affatto, perch’ella si abbassa ed alza come una ventiera di merlo. Questo ordine è più sicuro che la saracinesca, perchè difficilmente può essere dal nemico impedito in modo che non cali, non calando per una linea retta come la saracinesca, che facilmente si può puntellare. deggiono adunque coloro che vogliono fare una città, fare ordinare tutte le cose dette; e di più si vorrebbe, almeno uno miglio intorno alle mura, non vi lasciare nè cultivare, nè murare, ma fusse tutta campagna dove non fusse nè macchia, nè argine, nè arbori, nè casa che impedisse la vista e che facesse spalle al nemico che si accampa. E notate che una terra che abbia i fossi di fuora con gli argini più alti che il terreno, è debolissima; perchè quegli fanno riparo al nemico che ti assalta e non gli impediscono l’offenderti, perchè facilmente si possono aprire e dare luogo alle artiglierie di quello. Ma passiamo dentro nella terra. Io non voglio perdere molto tempo in mostrarvi come, oltre alle cose predette, conviene avere munizioni da vivere e da combattere, perchè sono cose che ciascuno se le intende e, senza esse, ogni altro provvedimento è vano. E generalmente si dee fare due cose: provvedere se e torre commodità al nemico di valersi delle cose del tuo paese. Però gli strami, il bestiame, il frumento che tu non puoi ricevere in casa, si dee corrompere. Debbe ancora, chi difende una terra, provvedere che tumultuariamente e disordinatamente non si faccia alcuna cosa, e tenere modi che in ogni accidente ciascuno sappia quello abbia a fare. Il modo è questo: che le donne, i vecchi, i fanciugli e i deboli si stieno in casa e lascino la terra libera a’ giovani e gagliardi; i quali armati si distribuiscano alla difesa, stando parte di quegli alle mura, parte alle porti, parte ne’ luoghi principali della città, per rimediare a quegli inconvenienti che potessero nascere dentro; un’altra parte non sia obligata ad alcuno luogo, ma sia apparecchiata a soccorrere a tutti, richiedendolo il bisogno. Ed essendo le cose ordinate così, possono con difficoltà nascere tumulti che ti disordinino. Ancora voglio che notiate questo nelle offese e difese delle città: che niuna cosa dà tanta speranza al nemico di potere occupare una terra, quanto il sapere che quella non è consueta a vedere il nemico; perchè molte volte, per la paura solamente, senza altra esperienza di forze, le città si perdono. Però debbe uno, quando egli assalta una città simile, fare tutte le sue ostentazioni terribili. Dall’altra parte chi è assaltato debba preporre, da quella parte che il nemico combatte uomini forti e che non gli spaventi l’opinione ma l’arme; perchè se la prima pruova torna vana, cresce animo agli assediati, e dipoi il nemico è forzato a superare chi è dentro con la virtù e non con la reputazione. Gli instrumenti co’ quali gli antichi difendevano le terre erano molti, come baliste, onagri, scorpioni, arcubaliste, fustibali, funde; ed ancora erano molti quegli co’ quali le assaltavano, come arieti, torri, musculi, plutei, vinee, falci, testudini. In cambio delle quali cose sono oggi l’artiglierie, le quali servono a chi offende e a chi si difende; e però io non ne parlerò altrimenti. Ma torniamo al ragionamento nostro, e vegnamo alle offese particolari. Debbesi avere cura di non potere essere preso per fame e di non essere sforzato per assalti. Quanto alla fame, si è detto che bisogna, prima che la ossidione venga, essersi munito bene di viveri. Ma quando ne manca per la ossidione lunga, si è veduto usare qualche volta qualche modo estraordinario ad essere provvisto dagli amici che ti vorrebbero salvare, massime se per il mezzo della città assediata corre uno fiume, come ferno i Romani essendo assediato Casalino loro castello da Annibale, che, non potendo per il fiume mandare loro altro, gittorno in quello gran quantità di noci, le quali, portate dal fiume senza potere essere impedite, ciborno più tempo i Casalinesi. Alcuni assediati, per mostrare al nemico che gli avanza loro grano e per farlo disperare che non possa per fame assediargli, hanno o gittato pane fuora delle mura, o dato mangiare grano ad uno giovenco, e quello dipoi lasciato pigliare, acciocchè, morto e trovatolo pieno di grano, mostri quella abbondanza che non hanno. Dall’altra parte, i capitani eccellenti hanno usato vari termini per affamare il nemico. Fabio lasciò seminare a’ Campani, acciocchè mancassero di quel frumento che seminavano. Dionisio, essendo a campo a Reggio, finse di volere fare con loro accordo, e durante la pratica si faceva provvedere da vivere, e quando poi gli ebbe per questo modo voti di frumento, gli ristrinse ed affamogli. Alessandro Magno, volendo espugnare Leucadia, espugnò tutti i castegli allo intorno, e gli uomini di quegli lasciò rifuggire in quella; e così, sopravvenendo assai moltitudine, l’affamò. Quanto agli assalti, si è detto che altri si debbe guardare dal primo impeto, col quale i Romani occuparono molte volte di molte terre, assaltandole ad un tratto e da ogni parte, e chiamavanlo «Aggredi urbem corona», come fece Scipione quando occupò Cartagine Nuova in Ispagna. Il quale impeto se si sostiene, con difficoltà sei poi superato. E se pure egli occorresse che il nemico fusse entrato dentro nella città per avere sforzate le mura, ancora i terrazzani vi hanno qualche rimedio, se non si abbandonano; perchè molti eserciti sono, poi che sono entrati in una terra, stati o ributtati o morti. Il rimedio è che i terrazzani si mantengano ne’ luoghi alti e dalle case e dalle torri gli combattano. La quale cosa coloro che sono entrati nelle città si sono ingegnati vincere in due modi: l’uno, con aprire le porte della città e fare la via a’ terrazzani che sicuramente si possano fuggire; l’altro, col mandare fuora una voce che significhi che non si offenda se non gli armati, e a chi getta l’armi in terra si perdoni. La quale cosa ha renduta facile la vittoria di molte città. Sono facili, oltre a questo, le città ad espugnarle, se tu giugni loro addosso imprevisto; il che si fa, trovandosi con l’esercito discosto, in modo che non si creda o che tu le voglia assaltare, o che tu possa farlo senza che si presenta per la distanza del luogo. Donde che se tu secretamente e sollecitamente le assalti, quasi sempre ti succederà di riportarne la vittoria. Io ragiono male volentieri delle cose successe de’ nostri tempi, perchè di me e de’ miei mi sarebbe carico a ragionare; d’altri non saprei che mi dire. Nondimeno non posso a questo proposito non addurre lo esemplo di Cesare Borgia, chiamato duca Valentino; il quale, trovandosi a Nocera con le sue genti, sotto colore di andare a’ danni di Camerino si volse verso lo stato d’Urbino, ed occupò uno stato in uno giorno e senza alcuna fatica, il quale un altro con assai tempo e spesa non avrebbe appena occupato. Conviene ancora, a quegli che sono assediati, guardarsi dagli inganni e dalle astuzie del nemico; e però non si deggiono fidare gli assediati d’alcuna cosa che veggano fare al nemico continuamente, ma credano sempre che vi sia sotto lo inganno e che possa a loro danno variare. Domizio Calvino, assediando una terra, prese per consuetudine di circuire ogni giorno, con buona parte delle sue genti, le mura di quella. Donde credendo i terrazzani lo facesse per esercizio, allentarono le guardie; di che accortosi Domizio, gli assaltò ed espugnogli. Alcuni capitani, avendo presentito che doveva venire aiuto agli assediati, hanno vestiti loro soldati sotto le insegne di quegli che dovevano venire, ed essendo stati intromessi hanno occupato la terra. Cimone ateniese messe fuoco una notte in uno tempio che era fuora della terra, onde i terrazzani, andando a soccorrerlo, lasciarono in preda la terra al nemico. Alcuni hanno morti quegli che del castello assediato vanno a saccomanno e rivestiti i suoi soldati con la veste de’ saccomanni; i quali dipoi gli hanno dato la terra. Hanno ancora usato gli antichi capitani vari termini da spogliare di guardie le terre che vogliono pigliare. Scipione, sendo in Affrica e desiderando occupare alcuni castegli ne’ quali erano messe guardie da’ Cartaginesi, finse più volte di volergli assaltare, ma poi per paura non solamente astenersi, ma discostarsi da quegli. Il che credendo Annibale essere vero, per seguirlo con maggiore forze e per potere più facilmente opprimerlo, trasse tutte le guardie di quegli; il che Scipione conosciuto, mandò Massinissa suo capitano ad espugnargli. Pirro, faccendo guerra in Schiavonia ad una città capo di quello paese, dove era ridotta assai gente in guardia, finse di essere disperato di poterla espugnare e, voltatosi agli altri luoghi, fece che quella per soccorrergli si votò di guardie e diventò facile ad essere sforzata. Hanno molti corrotte l’acque e derivati i fiumi per pigliare le terre, ancora che dipoi non riuscisse. Fannosi facili ancora gli assediati ad arrendersi, spaventandogli con significare loro una vittoria avuta o nuovi aiuti che vengano in loro disfavore. Hanno cerco gli antichi capitani occupare le terre per tradimento, corrompendo alcuno di dentro; ma hanno tenuti diversi modi. Alcuno ha mandato uno suo che, sotto nome di fuggitivo, prenda autorità e fede co’ nemici, la quale dipoi usi in benificio suo. Alcuno per questo mezzo ha inteso il modo delle guardie e, mediante quella notizia, presa la terra. Alcuno ha impedito la porta, ch’ella non si possa serrare, con uno carro e con travi sotto qualche colore, e per questo modo fatto l’entrare facile al nemico. Annibale persuase ad uno che gli desse uno castello de’ Romani e che fingesse di andare a caccia la notte, mostrando non potere andare di giorno per paura de’ nemici, e, tornando dipoi con la cacciagione, mettesse dentro con seco de’ suoi uomini e, ammazzata la guardia, gli desse la porta. Ingannansi ancora gli assediati col tirargli fuora della terra e discostargli da quella, mostrando, quando essi ti assaltano, di fuggire. E molti, tra’ quali fu Annibale, hanno non ch’altro, lasciatosi torre gli alloggiamenti per avere occasione di mettergli in mezzo e torre loro la terra. Ingannansi ancora col fingere di partirsi, come fece Formione ateniese; il quale, avendo predato il paese de’ Calcidensi, ricevè dipoi i loro ambasciadori, riempiendo la loro città di sicurtà e di buone promesse sotto le quali, come uomini poco cauti, furono poco dipoi da Formione oppressi. Debbonsi gli assediati guardare dagli uomini che egli hanno fra loro sospetti; ma qualche volta si suole così assicurarsene col merito come con la pena. Marcello, conoscendo come Lucio Banzio Nolano era volto a favorire Annibale, tanta umanità e liberalità usò verso di lui, che di nemico se lo fece amicissimo. deggiono gli assediati usare più diligenza nelle guardie, quando il nemico si è discostato, che quando egli è propinquo; e deggiono guardare meglio quegli luoghi i quali pensano che possano essere offesi meno; perchè si sono perdute assai terre quando il nemico le assalta da quella parte donde essi non credono essere assaltati. E questo inganno nasce da due cagioni: o per essere il luogo forte e credere che sia inaccessibile, o per essere usata arte dal nemico di assaltargli da uno lato, con romori finti e, dall’altro, taciti e con assalti veri. E però deggiono gli assediati avere a questo grande avvertenza, e sopra tutto d’ogni tempo, e massime la notte, fare buone guardie alle mura; e non solamente preporvi uomini, ma i cani, e torgli feroci e pronti, i quali col fiuto presentano il nemico e con lo abbaiare lo scuoprano. E non che i cani, si è trovato che l’oche hanno salvo una città, come intervenne a’ Romani quando i Francesi assediavano il Campidoglio. Alcibiade, per vedere se le guardie vigilavano, essendo assediata Atene dagli Spartani, ordinò che, quando la notte egli alzasse uno lume, tutte le guardie lo alzassero, constituendo pena a chi non lo osservasse. Ificrate ateniese ammazzò una guardia che dormiva, dicendo di averlo lasciato come l’aveva trovato. Hanno coloro che sono assediati tenuti vari modi a mandare avvisi agli amici loro; e per non mandare imbasciate a bocca, scrivono lettere in cifera e nascondonle in vari modi: le cifere sono secondo la volontà di chi l’ordina, il modo del nasconderle è vario. Chi ha scritto il fodero, dentro, d’una spada; altri hanno messe le lettere in uno pane crudo, e dipoi cotto quello e datolo come per suo cibo a colui che le porta. Alcuni se le sono messe ne’ luoghi più secreti del corpo. Altri le hanno messe in un collare d’uno cane che sia familiare di quello che le porta. Alcuni hanno scritto in una lettera cose ordinarie, e dipoi, tra l’uno verso e l’altro, scritto con acque che, bagnandole e scaldandole, poi le lettere appariscano. Questo modo è stato astutissimamente osservato ne’ nostri tempi; dove che, volendo alcuno significare cose da tenere secrete a’ suoi amici che dentro a una terra abitavano, e non volendo fidarsi di persona, mandava scomuniche scritte secondo la consuetudine ed interlineate, come io dico di sopra, e quelle faceva alle porte de’ templi suspendere; le quali conosciute da quegli che per gli contrassegni le conoscevano, erano spiccate e lette. Il quale modo è cautissimo, perchè chi le porta vi può esser ingannato e non vi corre alcuno pericolo. Sono infiniti altri modi che ciascuno per se medesimo può fingere e trovare. Ma con più facilità si scrive agli assediati, che gli assediati agli amici di fuora, perchè tali lettere non le possono mandare, se non per uno che sotto ombra di fuggitivo esca della terra; il che è cosa dubbia e pericolosa quando il nemico è punto cauto. Ma quelli che mandono dentro, può quello che è mandato, sotto molti colori andare nel campo che assedia, e di quivi, presa conveniente occasione, saltare nella terra. Ma vegnamo a parlare delle presenti espugnazioni; e dico che s’egli occorre che tu sia combattuto nella tua città, che non sia ordinata co’ fossi dalla parte di dentro, come poco fa dimostrammo, a volere che il nemico non entri per le rotture del muro che l’artiglieria fa, perchè alla rottura ch’ella non si faccia non è rimedio, , ti è necessario, mentre che l’artiglieria batte, muovere uno fosso dentro al muro che è percosso, largo almeno trenta braccia, e gittare tutto quello che si cava di verso la terra, che faccia argine e più profondo il fosso; e ti conviene sollecitare questa opera in modo che, quando il muro caggia, il fosso sia cavato almeno cinque o sei braccia. Il quale fosso è necessario, mentre che si cava, chiudere da ogni fianco con una casamatta. E quando il muro è sì gagliardo che ti dia tempo a fare il fosso e le casematte, viene ad essere più forte quella parte battuta che il resto della città; perchè tale riparo viene ad avere la forma che noi demmo a’ fossi di dentro. Ma quando il muro è debole e che non ti dia tempo, allora è che bisogna mostrare la virtù, ed opporvisi con le genti armate e con tutte le forze tue. Questo modo di riparare fu osservato da’ Pisani, quando voi vi andavi a campo; e poterono farlo, perchè avevano le mura gagliarde, che davano loro tempo, e il terreno tenace e attissimo a rizzare argini e fare ripari. Che se fussono mancati di questa commodità, si sarebbero perduti. Pertanto si farà sempre prudentemente a provvedersi prima, faccendo i fossi dentro alla sua città e per tutto il suo circuito, come poco fa divisammo, perchè in questo caso si aspetta ozioso e sicuro il nemico, essendo i ripari fatti. Occupavano gli antichi molte volte le terre con le cave sutterranee in due modi: o e’ facevano una via sotterra segretamente che riusciva nella terra, e per quella entravano, nel quale modo i Romani presono la città de’ Veienti, o con le cave scalzavano uno muro e facevanlo rovinare. Questo ultimo modo è oggi più gagliardo e fa che le città poste alto sieno più deboli, perchè si possono meglio cavare; e mettendo dipoi nelle cave di quella polvere che in istante si accende, non solamente rovina uno muro, ma i monti si aprono e le fortezze tutte in più parti si dissolvono. Il rimedio a questo è edificare in piano e fare il fosso che cigne la tua città tanto profondo, che il nemico non possa cavare più basso di quello che non trovi l’acqua, la quale è solamente nemica di queste cave. E se pure ti truovi con la terra che tu difendi in poggio, non puoi rimediarvi con altro che fare dentro alle tue mura assai pozzi profondi, i quali sono come sfogatoi a quelle cave che il nemico ti potesse ordinare contra. Un altro rimedio è fargli una cava all’incontro, quando ti accorgessi donde quello cavasse; il quale modo facilmente lo impedisce, ma difficilmente si prevede, essendo assediato da uno nemico cauto. Deve sopra tutto avere cura, quello che è assediato, di non essere oppresso ne’ tempi del riposo, come è dopo una battaglia avuta, dopo le guardie fatte, che è la mattina al fare del giorno, la sera tra dì e notte, e sopra tutto quando si mangia; nel quale tempo molte terre sono espugnate e molti eserciti sono stati da quegli di dentro rovinati. Però si debbe con diligenza da ogni parte stare sempre guardato e in buona parte armato. Io non voglio mancare di dirvi come quello che fa difficile il difendere una città o uno alloggiamento è lo avere a tenere disunite tutte le forze che tu hai in quegli; perchè, potendoti il nemico assalire a sua posta tutto insieme da qualunque banda, ti conviene tenere ogni luogo guardato; e così quello ti assalta con tutte le forze e tu con parte di quelle ti difendi. Può ancora lo assediato essere vinto in tutto, quello di fuora non può essere se non ributtato; onde che molti che sono stati assediati o nello alloggiamento o in una terra, ancora che inferiori di forze sono usciti con tutte le loro genti ad un tratto fuora e hanno superato il nemico. Questo fece Marcello a Nola; questo fece Cesare in Francia, che, essendogli assaltati gli alloggiamenti da uno numero grandissimo di Francesi e veggendo non gli potere difendere per avere a dividere le sue forze in più parti, e non potere, stando dentro agli steccati, con empito urtare il nemico, aperse da una banda lo alloggiamento, e, rivoltosi in quella parte con tutte le forze, fece tanto impeto loro contra e con tanta virtù che gli superò e vinse. La costanza ancora degli assediati fa molte volte disperare e sbigottire coloro che assediano. Essendo Pompeo a fronte di Cesare e patendo assai l’esercito Cesariano per la fame, fu portato del suo pane a Pompeo; il quale vedendo fatto di erbe comandò che non si mostrasse al suo esercito per non lo fare sbigottire, vedendo quali nemici aveva all’incontro. Niuna cosa fece tanto onore a’ Romani nella guerra di Annibale quanto la costanza loro, perchè in qualunque più nemica e avversa fortuna mai non domandorono pace, mai fecero alcun segno di timore; anzi, quando Annibale era allo intorno di Roma, si venderono quegli campi dove egli aveva posti i suoi alloggiamenti, più pregio che per l’ordinario per altri tempi venduti non si sarebbono; e stettero in tanto ostinati nelle imprese loro, che, per difendere Roma, non vollero levare le offese da Capua, la quale, in quel medesimo tempo che Roma era assediata, i Romani assediavano. Io so che io vi ho detto di molte cose le quali per voi medesimi avete potuto intendere e considerare; nondimeno l’ho fatto, come oggi ancora vi dissi, per potervi mostrare, mediante quelle, meglio la qualità di questo esercizio e ancora per soddisfare a quegli, se alcuno ce ne fusse, che non avessero avuta quella commodità di intenderle che voi. Nè mi pare che ci resti altro a dirvi che alcune regole generali, le quali voi averete famigliarissime; che sono queste: Quello che giova al nemico nuoce a te, e quel che giova a te nuoce al nemico. Colui che sarà nella guerra più vigilante a osservare i disegni del nemico e più durerà fatica ad esercitare il suo esercito, in minori pericoli incorrerà e più potrà sperare della vittoria. Non condurre mai a giornata i tuoi soldati, se prima non hai confermato l’animo loro e conosciutogli senza paura e ordinati, nè mai ne farai pruova, se non quando vedi ch’egli sperano di vincere. Meglio è vincere il nemico con la fame che col ferro, nella vittoria del quale può molto più la fortuna che la virtù. Niuno partito è migliore che quello che sta nascoso al nemico infino che tu lo abbia eseguito. Sapere nella guerra conoscere l’occasione e pigliarla, giova più che niuna altra cosa. La natura genera pochi uomini gagliardi; la industria e l’esercizio ne fa assai. Può la disciplina nella guerra più che il furore. Quando si partono alcuni dalla parte nemica per venire a’ servizj tuoi, quando sieno fedeli vi sarà sempre grandi acquisti; perchè le forze degli avversari più si minuiscono con la perdita di quegli che si fuggono, che di quegli che sono ammazzati, ancora che il nome de’ fuggitivi sia a’ nuovi amici sospetto, a’ vecchi odioso. Meglio è, nell’ordinare la giornata, riserbare dietro alla prima fronte assai aiuti, che, per fare la fronte maggiore, disperdere i suoi soldati. Difficilmente è vinto colui che sa conoscere le forze sue e quelle del nemico. Più vale la virtù de’ soldati che la moltitudine; più giova alcuna volta il sito che la virtù. Le cose nuove e subite sbigottiscono gli eserciti; le cose consuete e lente sono poco stimate da quegli; però farai al tuo esercito praticare e conoscere con piccole zuffe un nemico nuovo, prima che tu venga alla giornata con quello. Colui che seguita con disordine il nemico poi ch’egli è rotto, non vuole fare altro che diventare, di vittorioso, perdente. Quello che non prepara le vettovaglie necessarie al vivere è vinto senza ferro. Chi confida più ne’ cavalli che ne’ fanti, o più ne’ fanti che ne’ cavalli, si accomodi col sito. Quando tu vuoi vedere se, il giorno, alcuna spia è venuta in campo, fa’ che ciascuno ne vadia al suo alloggiamento. Muta partito, quando ti accorgi che il nemico l’abbia previsto. Consigliati, delle cose che tu dèi fare, con molti; quello che dipoi vuoi fare conferisci con pochi. I soldati, quando dimorano alle stanze, si mantengano col timore e con la pena; poi, quando si conducono alla guerra, con la speranza e col premio. I buoni capitani non vengono mai a giornata se la necessità non gli strigne o la occasione non gli chiama. Fa’ che i tuoi nemici non sappiano come tu voglia ordinare l’esercito alla zuffa: e in qualunque modo l’ordini, fa’ che le prime squadre possano essere ricevute dalle seconde e dalle terze. Nella zuffa non adoperare mai una battaglia ad un’altra cosa che a quella per che tu l’avevi deputata, se tu non vuoi fare disordine. Agli accidenti subiti con difficoltà si rimedia, a’ pensati con facilità. Gli uomini, il ferro, i danari e il pane sono il nervo della guerra; ma di questi quattro sono più necessarj i primi due, perchè gli uomini e il ferro truovano i danari e il pane, ma il pane e i danari non truovano gli uomini e il ferro. Il disarmato ricco è premio del soldato povero. Avvezza i tuoi soldati a spregiare il vivere delicato e il vestire lussurioso. Questo è quanto mi occorre generalmente ricordarvi; e so che si sarebbero possute dire molte altre cose in tutto questo mio ragionamento, come sarebbero: come e in quanti modi gli antichi ordinavano le schiere; come vestivano e come in molte altre cose si esercitavano, e aggiugnervi assai particolari i quali non ho giudicati necessarj narrare, sì perchè per voi medesimi potete vederli, sì ancora perchè la intenzione mia non è stata mostrarvi appunto come l’antica milizia era fatta, ma come in questi tempi si potesse ordinare una milizia che avesse più virtù che quella che si usa. Donde che non mi è parso delle cose antiche ragionare altro che quello che io ho giudicato a tale introduzione necessario. So ancora che io mi arei avuto ad allargare più sopra la milizia a cavallo e dipoi ragionare della guerra navale, perchè chi distingue la milizia dice come egli è uno esercizio di mare e di terra, a piè e a cavallo. Di quello di mare io non presumerei parlare, per non ne avere alcuna notizia; ma lascieronne parlare a’ Genovesi e a’ Viniziani, i quali con simili studi hanno per lo addietro fatto gran cose. De’ cavalli ancora non voglio dire altro che di sopra mi abbia detto, essendo, come io dissi, questa parte corrotta meno. Oltre a questo, ordinate che sono bene le fanterie, che sono il nervo dell’esercito, si vengono di necessità a fare buoni cavalli. Solo ricorderei a chi ordinasse la milizia nel paese suo per riempierlo di cavalli, facesse due provvedimenti: l’uno, che distribuisse cavalle di buona razza per il suo contado e avvezzasse i suoi uomini a fare incette di puledri come voi in questo paese fate de’ vitegli e de’ muli; l’altro, acciocchè gli incettanti trovassero il comperatore, proibirei il potere tenere mulo ad alcuno che non tenesse cavallo, talmente che chi volesse tenere una cavalcatura sola fusse costretto tenere cavallo; e di più, che non potesse vestire di drappo se non chi tenesse cavallo. Questo ordine intendo essere stato fatto da alcuno principe ne’ nostri tempi, e in brevissimo tempo avere nel paese suo ridotto una ottima cavalleria. Circa alle altre cose, quanto si aspetta a’ cavalli, mi rimetto a quanto oggi vi dissi e a quello che si costuma. Desidereresti forse ancora intendere quali parte debbe avere uno capitano? A che io vi soddisfarò brevissimamente, perchè io non saprei eleggere altro uomo che quello che sapesse fare tutte quelle cose che da noi sono state oggi ragionate; le quali ancora non basterebbero, quando non ne sapesse trovare da se, perchè niuno senza invenzione fu mai grande uomo nel mestiero suo; e se la invenzione fa onore nell’altre cose, in questo sopra tutto ti onora. E si vede ogni invento, ancora che debole, essere dagli scrittori celebrato; come si vede che lodano Alessandro Magno, che, per disalloggiare più segretamente, non dava il segno con la tromba, ma con uno cappello sopra una lancia. È laudato ancora per avere ordinato agli suoi soldati che, nello appiccarsi con gli nemici, s’inginocchiassero col piè manco, per potere più gagliardamente sostenere l’impeto loro; il che avendogli dato la vittoria, gli dette ancora tanta lode, che tutte le statue, che si rizzavano in suo onore, stavano in quella guisa. Ma perch’egli è tempo di finire questo ragionamento, io voglio tornare a proposito; e parte fuggirò quella pena in che si costuma condannare in questa terra coloro che non vi tornano. Se vi ricorda bene, Cosimo, voi mi dicesti che, essendo io dall’uno canto esaltatore della antichità e biasimatore di quegli che nelle cose gravi non la imitano, e, dall’altro, non la avendo io nelle cose della guerra, dove io mi sono affaticato, imitata, non ne potevi ritrovare la cagione; a che io risposi come gli uomini che vogliono fare una cosa, conviene prima si preparino a saperla fare, per potere poi operarla quando l’occasione lo permetta. Se io saprei ridurre la milizia ne’ modi antichi o nò, io ne voglio per giudici voi che mi avete sentito sopra questa materia lungamente disputare; donde voi avete potuto conoscere quanto tempo io abbia consumato in questi pensieri, e ancora credo possiate immaginare quanto desiderio sia in me di mandargli ad effetto. Il che se io ho potuto fare, o se mai me ne è stata data occasione, facilmente potete conietturarlo. Pure per farvene più certi, e per più mia giustificazione, voglio ancora addurne le cagioni; e parte vi osserverò quanto promissi di dimostrarvi: le difficoltà e le facilità che sono al presente in tali imitazioni. Dico pertanto come niuna azione che si faccia oggi tra gli uomini, è più facile a ridurre ne’ modi antichi che la milizia, ma per coloro soli che sono Principi di tanto stato, che potessero almeno di loro suggetti mettere insieme quindici o ventimila giovani. Dall’altra parte, niuna cosa è più difficile che questa a coloro che non hanno tale commodità. E perchè voi intendiate meglio questa parte, voi avete a sapere come e’ sono di due ragioni capitani lodati. L’una è quegli che con uno esercito ordinato per sua naturale disciplina hanno fatto grandi cose, come furono la maggior parte de’ cittadini Romani e altri che hanno guidati eserciti; i quali non hanno avuto altra fatica che mantenergli buoni e vedere di guidargli sicuramente. L’altra è quegli che non solamente hanno avuto a superare il nemico, ma, prima ch’egli arrivino a quello, sono stati necessitati fare buono e bene ordinato l’esercito loro, i quali senza dubbio meritono più lode assai che non hanno meritato quegli che con gli eserciti antichi e buoni hanno virtuosamente operato. Di questi tali fu Pelopida ed Epaminonda, Tullo Ostilio, Filippo di Macedonia padre d’Alessandro, Ciro Re de’ Persi, Gracco Romano. Costoro tutti ebbero prima a fare l’esercito buono, e poi combattere con quello. Costoro tutti lo poterono fare, sì per la prudenza loro, sì per avere suggetti da potergli in simile esercizio indirizzare. Nè mai sarebbe stato possibile che alcuno di loro, ancora che uomo pieno d’ogni eccellenza, avesse potuto in una provincia aliena, piena di uomini corrotti, non usi ad alcuna onesta ubbidienza, fare alcuna opera lodevole. Non basta adunque in Italia il sapere governare uno esercito fatto, ma prima è necessario saperlo fare e poi saperlo comandare. E di questi bisogna sieno quegli Principi che, per avere molto stato e assai suggetti, hanno commodità di farlo. De’ quali non posso essere io che non comandai mai, nè posso comandare se non a eserciti forestieri e a uomini obligati ad altri e non a me. Ne’ quali s’egli è possibile o nò, introdurre alcuna di quelle cose da me oggi ragionate, lo voglio lasciare nel giudicio vostro. Quando potrei io fare portare a uno di questi soldati che oggi si praticano, più armi che le consuete, e, oltra alle armi, il cibo per due o tre giorni e la zappa? Quando potrei io farlo zappare o tenerlo ogni giorno molte ore sotto l’armi negli esercizj finti, per potere poi ne’ veri valermene? Quando si asterrebbe egli da’ giuochi, dalle lascivie, dalle bestemmie, dalle insolenze che ogni dì fanno? Quando si ridurrebbero eglino in tanta disciplina e in tanta ubbidienza e reverenza, che uno arbore pieno di pomi nel mezzo degli alloggiamenti vi si trovasse e lasciasse intatto come si legge che negli eserciti antichi molte volte intervenne? Che cosa posso io promettere loro, mediante la quale e’ mi abbiano con reverenza ad amare o temere, quando, finita la guerra, e’ non hanno più alcuna cosa a convenire meco? Di che gli ho io a fare vergognare, che sono nati e allevati senza vergogna? Perchè mi hanno eglino ad osservare che non mi conoscono? Per quale Iddio, o per quali santi gli ho io a fare giurare? Per quei ch’egli adorano, o per quei che bestemmiano? Che ne adorino non so io alcuno, ma so bene che li bestemmiano tutti. Come ho io a credere ch’egli osservino le promesse a coloro che ad ogni ora essi dispregiano? Come possono coloro che dispregiano Iddio, riverire gli uomini? Quale adunque buona forma sarebbe quella che si potesse imprimere in questa materia? E se voi mi allegassi che i Svizzeri e gli Spagnuoli sono buoni, io vi confesserei come eglino sono di gran lunga migliori che gli Italiani; ma se voi noterete il ragionamento mio e il modo del procedere d’ambidue, vedrete come e’ manca loro di molte cose ad aggiugnere alla perfezione degli antichi. E i Svizzeri sono fatti buoni da uno loro naturale uso causato da quello che oggi vi dissi, quegli altri da una necessità; perchè, militando in una provincia forestiera e parendo loro essere costretti o morire o vincere, per non parere loro avere luogo alla fuga, sono diventati buoni. Ma è una bontà in molte parti defettiva, perchè in quella non è altro di buono, se non che si sono assuefatti ad aspettare il nemico infino alla punta della picca e della spada. Nè quello che manca loro, sarebbe alcuno atto ad insegnarlo, e tanto meno chi non fusse della loro lingua. Ma torniamo agli Italiani, i quali, per non avere avuti i Principi savi, non hanno preso alcuno ordine buono, e, per non avere avuto quella necessità che hanno avuta gli Spagnuoli, non gli hanno per loro medesimi presi; tale che rimangono il vituperio del mondo. Ma i popoli non ne hanno colpa, ma sì bene i Principi loro; i quali ne sono stati gastigati, e della ignoranza loro ne hanno portate giuste pene perdendo ignominiosamente lo stato, e senza alcuno esemplo virtuoso. Volete voi vedere se questo che io dico è vero? Considerate quante guerre sono state in Italia dalla passata del Re Carlo ad oggi; e solendo le guerre fare uomini bellicosi e riputati, queste quanto più sono state grandi e fiere, tanto più hanno fatto perdere di riputazione alle membra e a’ capi suoi. Questo conviene che nasca che gli ordini consueti non erano e non sono buoni; e degli ordini nuovi non ci è alcuno che abbia saputo pigliarne. Nè crediate mai che si renda riputazione alle armi italiane, se non per quella via che io ho dimostra e mediante coloro che tengono stati grossi in Italia; perchè questa forma si può imprimere negli uomini semplici, rozzi e proprj, non ne’ maligni, male custoditi e forestieri. Nè si troverrà mai alcuno buono scultore che creda fare una bella statua d’un pezzo di marmo male abbozzato, ma sì bene d’uno rozzo. Credevano i nostri Principi italiani, prima ch’egli assaggiassero i colpi delle oltramontane guerre, che a uno principe bastasse sapere negli scrittoi pensare an’acuta risposta, scrivere una bella lettera, mostrare ne’ detti e nelle parole arguzia e prontezza, sapere tessere una fraude, ornarsi di gemme e d’oro, dormire e mangiare con maggiore splendore che gli altri, tenere assai lascivie intorno, governarsi co’ sudditi avaramente e superbamente, marcirsi nello ozio, dare i gradi della milizia per grazia, disprezzare se alcuno avesse loro dimostro alcuna lodevole via, volere che le parole loro fussero responsi di oraculi; nè si accorgevano i meschini che si preparavano ad essere preda di qualunque gli assaltava. Di quì nacquero poi nel mille quattrocento novantaquattro i grandi spaventi, le subite fughe e le miracolose perdite; e così tre potentissimi stati che erano in Italia, sono stati più volte saccheggiati e guasti. Ma quello che è peggio, è che quegli che ci restano stanno nel medesimo errore e vivono nel medesimo disordine, e non considerano che quegli che anticamente volevano tenere lo stato, facevano e facevano fare tutte quelle cose che da me si sono ragionate, e che il loro studio era preparare il corpo a’ disagi e lo animo a non temere i pericoli. Onde nasceva che Cesare, Alessandro e tutti quegli uomini e Principi eccellenti, erano i primi tra’ combattitori, andavano armati a piè, e se pure perdevano lo stato, e’ volevano perdere la vita; talmente che vivevano e morivano virtuosamente. E se in loro, o in parte di loro, si poteva dannare troppa ambizione di regnare, mai non si troverrà che in loro si danni alcuna mollizia o alcuna cosa che faccia gli uomini delicati e imbelli. Le quali cose, se da questi Principi fussero lette e credute, sarebbe impossibile che loro non mutassero forma di vivere e le provincie loro non mutassero fortuna. E perchè voi, nel principio di questo nostro ragionamento, vi dolesti della vostra ordinanza, io vi dico che, se voi la avete ordinata come io ho di sopra ragionato ed ella abbia dato di se non buona esperienza, voi ragionevolmente ve ne potete dolere; ma s’ella non è così ordinata ed esercitata come ho detto, ella può dolersi di voi che avete fatto uno abortivo, non una figura perfetta. I Viniziani ancora e il duca di Ferrara la cominciarono e non la seguirono, il che è stato per difetto loro, non degli uomini loro. E io vi affermo che qualunque di quelli che tengono oggi stati in Italia prima entrerrà per questa via, fia, prima che alcuno altro, signore di questa provincia; e interverrà allo stato suo come al Regno de’ Macedoni, il quale, venendo sotto a Filippo che aveva imparato il modo dello ordinare gli eserciti da Epaminonda tebano, diventò, con questo ordine e con questi esercizi, mentre che l’altra Grecia stava in ozio e attendeva a recitare commedie, tanto potente che potette in pochi anni tutta occuparla, e al figliuolo lasciare tale fondamento, che potèo farsi principe di tutto il mondo. Colui adunque che dispregia questi pensieri, s’egli è principe, dispregia il principato suo; s’egli è cittadino, la sua città. E io mi dolgo della natura, la quale o ella non mi dovea fare conoscitore di questo, o ella mi doveva dare facultà a poterlo eseguire. Nè penso oggimai, essendo vecchio, poterne avere alcuna occasione; e per questo io ne sono stato con voi liberale, che, essendo giovani e qualificati, potrete, quando le cose dette da me vi piacciano, ai debiti tempi, in favore de’ vostri Principi, aiutarle e consigliarle. Di che non voglio vi sbigottiate o diffidiate, perchè questa provincia pare nata per risuscitare le cose morte, come si è visto della poesia, della pittura e della scultura. Ma quanto a me si aspetta, per essere in là con gli anni, me ne diffido. E veramente, se la fortuna mi avesse conceduto per lo addietro tanto stato quanto basta a una simile impresa, io crederei, in brevissimo tempo, avere dimostro al mondo quanto gli antichi ordini vagliono; e senza dubbio o io l’arei accresciuto con gloria o perduto senza vergogna.

A DISCOURSE ABOUT THE REFORMING OF FLORENCE

Anonymous translation, 1772

The reason why Florence has always so often changed its government has been because it has never been a Republic or a Principality of the proper kind; for that Principate cannot be called stable where things are done according to the desires of an individual but are decided by the consent of the many; nor can it be believed that that Republic will endure where those moods of the people are not satisfied, and which, if they are not satisfied, cause the ruin of the Republic: and that this is true can be seen from the States (governments) that that city has had from the year one thousand three hundred ninety three (1393) until now: and beginning with the Reform made in the said time by Messer Maso Degli Albizi, it will be seen how at that time it was desired to give it the form of a Republic governed by the Optimates (Aristocrats), but that there were so many defects in it, that it did not last forty years; and it would have lasted even less if the wars of the Visconti had not ensued and which kept it united. Among other defects there was the promulgation of a list of eligible candidates (Squittini) a long time in advance, in which fraud could easily be introduced, and in which the elections could be not good; but on the other hand, because men change easily, from good becoming wicked, giving eligibility to citizens a long time in advance, it could easily happen that while the selection might be good, the drawing (up of the lists) could be bad: in addition to this, there had not been instilled in great men a fear of creating Sects (Factions), which are the ruin of a State. The Signoria also had little reputation (influence) and too much authority, being able to dispose of the lives and possessions of the citizens without appeal, and being able to call the people to a parliament. So that the Signoria came to be, not the defenders of the State, but an instrument to cause its overthrow whenever an influential Citizen should be able either to govern her or swindle her. On the other hand, as has been said, as it had little reputation, and often consisted of abject young men, existed for only a short time, and did not apply itself to any serious business, it could not have much influence.

There also existed in that State a defect of no little importance, which was, that private individuals were founded in the councils of public affairs, which maintained the reputation of these private individuals but took it away from the public (officials), and resulted in taking away of authority from the Magistrates, something contrary to every civil institution. To which defect there was added yet another that mattered even more, which was, that the People did not participate in those councils; and these all together caused infinite troubles: and if, as I have said, the external wars had not served to keep her united, she would have been ruined earlier than she was.

After this, there sprung up the State of Cosimo, which learned more toward a Principality than a Republic, and if it lasted longer than the other, two things were the reasons: the one, it was created with the favor of the People; the other, it was governed by the prudence of two men, Cosimo and his grandson Lorenzo: none the less, his (Cosimo’s) long deliberations so increased its weakness, that that which Cosimo wanted to bring about many times was brought to the point of danger of losing it; whence there arose frequent public assemblies and resultant frequent banishments during the existence of that State; and then it was lost because of the incident of the passage of King Charles into Italy. After which the City wanted to reestablish itself in the form of a Republic, but did not plan it in such a way that it should last; for, while the government did not satisfy all the moods of the Citizens, yet on the other hand it could not furnish them; and was so weak and far from being a true Republic, that a Gonfalonier for life, if he was wise and wicked, could easily make himself Prince; if he was good and weak, could easily be driven out to the entire ruin of all that State.

And as it would be a lengthy matter to enlarge on all the reasons, I will mention only one, which is, that the Gonfalonier did not have around him those who could defend him if he were good or to restrain and correct him if he were bad. The reason why all these governments have been defective, is that their Reforms have not been made to satisfy the common good, but for the security and confirmation in power of one of the Parties; which security, however, has not been found, because one Party has always been discontent and it has been a powerful instrument to whoever has desired change.

There remains now for us to discuss the State from XII (1512) to the present, and what its strengths and weaknesses have been: but since it is a recent thing and everyone knows it, I will not speak of it. It is true that when this government comes to an end, as it has, by the death of the Duke, that new ways of governing have to be discussed, and as it appears proper to me to show my loyalty toward Your Holiness, not by telling you what occurs to me with the possibility of erring, but first to tell you the opinions of many others, according as they seemed to me when I heard them discussed, and afterwards adding my opinion, in which I should en, Your Holiness will excuse me for being more loving than prudent.

I say, therefore, that some judge that no other stable government can be organized than that which existed in the times of Cosimo and Lorenzo: Some others would have desired it much more liberal. Those who would want the government similar to that of Cosimo say, therefore, that things easily return to their nature; and, therefore, as it is natural for the Florentine Citizens to honour your House, to enjoy those benefits which proceed from You, to love those things which were loved by You, and having made a habit of this for sixty years, it is not possible for them not to return to the same mind and the same manners; and while a few may remain of a contrary mind, yet, because of their contrary temperament, they will easily extinguish themselves; and they add to these reasons one more, that of necessity, showing that Florence cannot remain without a Head, for without one she will live in confusion, but having to have one, it is much better that he be of that House which they are accustomed to revere than to select him from another place where there should be less reputation and everyone be less content.

In opposition to this opinion, it is answered that a State thus formed is dangerous for no other reason than because it is weak; for if Cosimo’s State had had in those times so great a weakness, as has been alleged above, a similar State in these times would have double such weaknesses, because the City, the Citizens, and the times are different from those which existed then; so that it is impossible to look for a State in Florence which can exist and still be similar to that (of Cosimo).

Originally, that State had the general public as a friend, and this one has it as an enemy: the Citizens of the former had never found a State in Florence which was more generally liked than it, while the latter have found one that appears to be better ruled, and where men are more contended. In Italy at that time, there were no arms and no power which the Florentines could not, even when alone, sustain with their own arms; but now that Spain and France are there, they must side with one or the other, and when it happens that that one loses, she quickly becomes prey to the victor, a thing that formerly did not happen. Also, the Citizens were accustomed to paying heavy taxes: now, either being unable or from want of practice, they have been weaned from them, and to want to reaccustom them is an obvious and dangerous thing.

The Medici who governed at that time, because they grew up and were raised with their Citizens, governed with such familiarity that it gained them favor: now they have become so great, surpassing all the other citizens, that such familiarity can no longer exist, and, as a consequence, neither can that favor: so that, considering the difference in times and men, there cannot be a greater deception than to believe that the same form of government can be impressed on so greatly different people. And if at that time, as has been said before, every ten years brought the danger of losing the State, today they would have lost it. Nor is it to be believed to be true that men easily return to their old and customary way of living, for this is proven true only when the old way of living pleases more than the new one: but when it pleases less, men do not return to it unless they are forced, and then only live that way as long as that force endures.

In addition to this, although it is true that Florence cannot remain without a head, and that it should have to judge between the head of one private group and another, she would love more a head from the House of Medici than from any other House, none the less, when one judges between the head of a private group and the head of a public group, the head of the public group drawn from that place will always be liked more than the head of the private group.

Some judged that the State could not be lost except by an assault from outside, and believed there was always time to be able to make friends with those who should assault her, and here they are greatly deceived; for very often a friendship is not made with one who is more capable of harming you, but with one who has more opportunity to do so at that time, or with one whom your mind and imagination more incline you to love; but it can easily happen that your friend is defeated, and having been defeated remains at the discretion of the Victor, so that he does not want an accord with you, either because you did not have the time to seek it, or because of the hatred he has conceived against you for the friendship you had with his enemies.

Lodovico, Duke of Milan, would have made such an accord with King Louis XII of France, if he had been able to obtain it. King Federigo (of Spain) would also have made an accord with that man (Louis), if he had met up with him: but not being able to make an accord with him, they both lost their States, since a thousand things arise which impede your making such accords; so that, everything considered, that State can neither be called secure nor stable, having had so many reasons for instability, so that it could not be able to please Your Holiness, or its Friends.

As to those who would want a Government broader than this, I say, that unless it is liberalized in a way that it becomes a well organized Republic, such broadening only causes it to be ruined more quickly; and if they would describe in detail how they would have it formed, I would answer them in detail: but as they speak in generalities, I cannot answer except generally. I only want that this reply be enough for me. And as to refuting Cosimo’s State, it is this, that no stable State can be organized, unless it is either a true Principality or a true Republic: for all forms of Government situated between these two are defective. The reason is very clear; for the Principality has only one way to go towards its dissolution, which is to descend toward a Republic, and so also a Republic has only one way of dissolving itself, which is to rise toward a Principality. States between these have two ways, being able to rise toward a Principality or descend toward a Republic; from which results their instability.

If your Holiness desires to create a stable State in Florence for your glory and the safety of your friends, you cannot, therefore, organize anything else other than a true Principality or a Republic, which will have all the parts. All others are useless and will have only a very short life. And, as to the Principality, I will not discuss it in detail, as much because it would be difficult to do so, as because such an instrument is lacking: and Your Holiness has to understand this, that in all Cities where there is a great equality among Citizens, a Principality cannot be organized except with the greatest difficulty: for it want to create a Republic in Milan, where there is a great inequality among Citizens, it would be necessary to eliminate all the Nobility and reduce it to an equality with the others; for they behave so irregularly among themselves that laws are not enough to reproach them, but a strong voice and a Royal Power is needed which will reproach them. And on the other hand, to want a Principality in Florence, where there is a great equality, it would be necessary for you first to arrange an inequality, and create for yourself many nobles with Castles and Villas, who, together with the Prince, keep the City and all the Province in subjugation with their arms and adherents. For a Prince, despoiled of Nobility, cannot sustain the burden of the Principality; and, therefore, it is necessary that there be a middle group between him and the general public which would aid him in sustaining this burden. This is observed in all the States of Princes, and especially in the Kingdom of France, where the Gentlemen make themselves lords over the people, and the Princes over the Gentlemen, and the King over the Princes. But it is a difficult thing to create Principality where a Republic would work well, or a Republic where a Principality would work well, for, because it is difficult, it is inhumane and unworthy of anyone who wishes to be thought merciful and good. I will leave further discussion of a Principality and will speak of a Republic, because it is known that Your Holiness is most disposed toward this, and it is believed He delays its creation because He would desire to find a government in Florence wherein His authority would remain great, and his friends would live securely; and it seems to me having thought on it, that if there is only one good thing this serves, it is to make it possible through this for you to know what my loyalty (servitude) is toward You.

And you will see that in this Republic of mine, your authority not only is preserved, but will increase, and your Friends be honoured and secure, and the other general mass of Citizens have a very evident reason to be content.

With reverence I pray Your Holiness that you neither censure nor praise this discussion of mine before you have read it entirely; and likewise, I pray that you be not dismayed at some changes (suggested) in the Magistracies, for where things are not well organized, the less that remains of the old, so much the less remains of the bad.

Those who institute Republics ought to assign a place to three different classes of men who are to be found in every City; that is, upper, middle, and lower; and although that equality which was mentioned above exists in Florence, none the less there are some there who are high minded who believe they merit taking precedence over the others and who it is necessary to satisfy in instituting a Republic; and, for no other reason than it did not satisfy such classes, the former State was ruined.

It is impossible to satisfy these people so constituted except by giving Majesty (power) to those of the highest offices in the Republic, and this Majesty must be sustained by their persons.

It is not possible to give this Majesty to those of the highest office in the State of Florence as long as the Signoria and their Colleagues maintain the conditions which have existed in the past; for they cannot be trusted as regards the manner of selecting them, instead of choosing serious men of reputation, although rare, they will place this Majesty of the State either in the lower or middle classes, which is contrary to every political order, or turn it over to private individuals: and, therefore, it is necessary to correct this method, and together with such correction satisfy the more highly ambitious who are in the City; and the method of this.

Annul the Signoria, the Eight of the Practica, and the Twelve Good Men; and in place of these to give Majesty (Power) to the Government, choose sixty five citizens, who are at least forty five years of age, of whom fifty three will come from the major Guilds and twelve from the minor Guilds, and who would continue for life in the Government, in the manner to be described.

Create one a Gonfalonier of justice for two or three years, unless it seems proper to appoint him for life; and of the remaining sixty four Citizens, divide them into two parts, thirty two in each part; one part would govern one year with the Gonfalonier, and the other part the following year: and thus they should be exchanged successively, keeping this stated arrangement; and all together they should be called the Signoria.

The thirty two should be divided into four parts, eight per part, and each part should reside with the Gonfalonier three months in the Palace, and should take up the magistracy with the customary ceremonies, and should carry on all that business which the Signoria, the Eight of the Practica, and the Colleagues, carry on today, all of which were abolished above; and this (body of sixty five) should be the principal head of the state and its principal member; which arrangement, if it be well considered, will be seen by itself to have rendered Majesty and reputation to the Head of the State, and it will be seen that serious and authoritative men will always sit in the highest offices, and the Proceedings (Committees) of private men will not be necessary; which, as I have said above, are pernicious in the Republic, for the thirty two who would not be in the Magistracy that year can serve as consultants and as procedure (Committee) men: and Your Holiness can place in the first selection, as will be mentioned below, all your friends and confidants. But let us now go to the second rank in the State.

I believe, as was said above, that since there are three kinds of men, it is also necessary to have three ranks in a Republic, and no more. Therefore I believe it is well to remove the confusion of Councils that has existed for some time in Your City; these were created, not because they were necessary to civil existence, but in order to feed (the vanity) of some citizens, and to feed them with some things which in fact are of no importance in any way to the well-being of the City, because all of them could be corrupted by way of the Sects (Factions).

Since, I want, therefore, to restore a Republic with just three arms, it appears to me proper to abolish the Seventy, the Head, the Council of the People, and the Council of the Commons; and in place of all these, to summon a Council of two hundred, each (of whom would be) at least forty years of age; forty for the minor guilds and a hundred sixty for the major guilds, none of whom could be of the Sixty Five, but should (hold office) for life, and should be called the Council of the Selected; which Council, together with the sixty five already named, should carry on all those affairs, and should have all the Authority, that is held today by all the aforementioned Councils, which, by virtue of this, should be abolished; and this would be the second rank of the State: and all would be selected by Your Holiness. Whence to do this, and to maintain and regulate the institutions mentioned above, and those which will be mentioned below, and for the greater security of the Authority and friends of Your Holiness, there should be given to Your Holiness and to the Most Reverend Cardinal De’Medici, by means of a Balia (Committee with Power), for the lifetime of both of you, as much Authority as all the People of Florence now possess.

The Magistracy of the Eight of the Guard and the Balia should be chosen by Your Holiness from time to time.

Also for the greater security of the State and of the friends of Your Holiness, the organization of the Infantry should be divided into two bands, to which Your Holiness should on your Authority deputize two Commissioners, one Commissioner for each band.

From the above-mentioned proposals, it is seen that two kinds of men will be satisfied, that your Authority and that of your Friends will be corroborated in that City, for you will have the arms and criminal justice in your hands, the laws in your heart, and all the heads of the State are yours.

It remains now to satisfy the third and last class of men, which consists of the whole general mass of Citizens, who are never satisfied - and whoever believes otherwise is not wise — unless you restore, or promise to restore to them their Authority; and because to restore it all at once would not be for the security of Your Friends or the maintenance of the Authority of Your Holiness, it is necessary in part to restore it and in part to promise to restore it, so that they may be entirely certain of regaining them: and, therefore, I judge it will be necessary to reopen the Hall of the Council of the Thousand, or at least of the Six Hundred Citizens, who should distribute in the same manner as they have up to now all the offices and magistracies, except the afore-mentioned sixty five, the Two Hundred, and the Eight of the Balia, who during the life of Your Holiness and the Cardinal should be appointed by you. And so that your Friends should be certain of having their names in the ballot box when the Council makes its decision, Your Holiness should deputize eight Accoppiatori (Couplers), who being in on the secret, should be able to give the decision to whomever they wanted, and should not be able to take it away from anyone. And, so that the general public should believe that the names of those who were chosen were in the ballot box, the Council should be permitted to send secretly two Citizens chosen by it to be witnesses of the placing of the names in the ballot box.

No stable Republic was ever established without satisfying the general public. The general mass of Florentine Citizens will never be satisfied except the (Council) Chamber be reopened: therefore, in wanting to establish a Republic in Florence, this Chamber must be reopened and restore the distribution (of offices) to the general public. And Your Holiness knows, that whoever thinks of taking away the State, will think of reopening it (the Council Chamber) before he does anything else: and therefore it is the better proceeding that You open it with secure methods and means, and that You take away from whoever was your enemy, the opportunity to reopen it against your will, and with the destruction and ruin of your friends.

When the State was so organized, it would not be necessary to provide for anything else, if Your Holiness and the Most Reverend Monsignor were going to live always; but as you have to go, and wanting to leave a perfect Republic, and that everyone sees and understands that it is such, so that the general public ((and because of what given and what is promised to them)) may be contented, it is necessary to arrange further: That the sixteen Gonfaloniers of the Companies of the People be created by the method and for the time as is done up to the present, being created either by the Authority of Your Holiness, or allowing the Council to create them, as Your Holiness should please; and only those Prohibited (ineligible) should be increased, so that they (the Gonfaloniers) be better spread throughout the City; it should also be arranged that none of the Sixty-five Citizens be able to hold this office. When they (the Gonfaloniers) are summoned, four of those drawn should be Monitors and hold that office for a month, so that at the end of the term they all would have been monitors: Of these four, one should be drawn, who would make his residence for a week with the nine Lords, so that by the end of the month all four would have resided there: the said Lords residing at the Palace should not be able to do anything if he (the Monitor) were absent, and he should not have to take part in the proceedings, but only be a witness to their actions: he should be able to stop them from deciding on a case and could ask judgment on it from all of them; nor could the Thirty-two decide anything without the presence of two of the monitors, yet they (the two monitors) should have no other authority than to stop a decision which has been discussed among them, and ask it (appeal) of the Council of the Selected; nor should the Council of the Two-hundred be able to do anything unless there should be at least six of the sixteen, including the two monitors, present: yet they (the Gonfaloniers) could do nothing except, if three of them were in accord, to take a Cause from that Council and ask (action on) it of the Grand Council: the Grand Council should not be able to convene without twelve of the above mentioned Gonfaloniers, including at least three Monitors, where they should be able to carry on proceedings like other Citizens.

Such an arrangement of these Colleges thusly constituted is necessary after the death of Your Holiness and the Most Reverend Monsignor, for two reasons: the one, because if the Signoria or the other Council did not decide a matter from a lack of union, or did something against the common good from malice, there would be at hand someone to take away that authority and reassign it to another (body); for it is not good that one kind of Magistracy or Council should be able to stop an action, without there being someone who likewise can provide for it. It is also not good that Citizens do not have someone to watch them, and who makes them abstain from actions that are not good: the other reason is, that taking away the Signoria as it is today takes away from the general mass of Citizens the ability to be members of the Signoria, so that it is necessary to restore to them some office which resembles that taken away from them; and this one is such that it is greater, more useful to the Republic, and more honorable than the former one: And for the present these Gonfaloniers are to be summoned to get the City properly organized, but not to allow them to perform their office without permission from Your Holiness, which could serve to make them review the actions of those bodies as they regard the Authority and the state of Your Holiness.

In addition, to this, to give perfection to the Republic after the death of Your Holiness and of the Most Reverend Monsignor, and to ascertain that no part should be lacking, it is necessary to arrange a (Court of) Appeal to the Eight of the Guard and a Balia of thirty Citizens, to be drawn from the names from the Ballot boxes of the Two Hundred and of the Six Hundred together. Which court should be able to call the accuser and the accused within a certain time, but I would not allow such a court to be called during your life (time) without your permission. This Court is necessary in a Republic, because a few Citizens do not dare to punish great men: and it is necessary, therefore, that many Citizens should get together for such an effort, so that the judgment may be concealed, and as it is concealed, everyone can excuse himself. Such a Court would also serve during your Life (time) to cause the Eight to expedite cases and render justice; for, from fear that You should not permit the meeting (for appeal), they would judge more justly, and no appeal should be possible for matters pertaining to fraud, unless they amount to at least fifty Ducats, nor for matters pertaining to violence, unless they are accompanied by broken bones or effusion of blood, or the damage should exceed the sum of fifty Ducats.

It appears to us, having considered all this organization for a Republic and without your authority, that there is nothing lacking, according to what has been debated and discussed above at length; but if it be considered while Your Holiness and the Most Reverend Monsignor are living, it is a Monarchy, because You command the armies, you command the criminal Judges, you have the laws in your heart, and they are more than one can desire in a City. Nor is it seen what your friends, if they are good and want to live on their own (property), have to fear, as Your Holiness remains with so much authority, and they find themselves sitting in the first offices of the Government; nor do we see also how the general mass of Citizens should fail to be content, seeing the distribution of public offices already partly given to them and the others falling into their hands little allow the Council to choose some of the Sixty-five who should be missing (vacancies), and likewise for the Two Hundred, and You choose some according to the time; and I am certain that in a little while, through the authority of Your Holiness, who would guide everything, that the present State would be converted in a way that (I propose), and the later into the (present one), which would come to be the same thing, and all in one body, with peace to the City and the perpetual fame of Your Holiness, for the authority of Your Holiness can always remedy any defects that should spring up.

I believe that the greatest honor that men can have is that which is willingly given them by their Country, and I believe that the greatest good that is done, and the most pleasing to God, is that which is done for your Country. In addition to this, no man is exalted as much in any of his actions, as are those who have reformed Republics and Kingdoms with (new) Laws and Institutions. These are, after those who have been Gods, the highest praised: and as there have been few who have had opportunity to do so, and still fewer those who have known how to do it, the number of those who have done it is small; and this glory has been esteemed so much by men who have known nothing but glory, that not being able to establish a Republic in fact, have established it in writing; for Aristotle, Plato, and many others have wanted to show the World, that if they had not been able to found a Republic as Solon and Lycurgus did, they did not fail from ignorance but from being powerless to put it into effect.

Heaven does not, therefore, give a greater gift to man, nor can it show him a road more glorious than this: and among so much felicity that God has given to Your House and to the Person of Your Holiness, the greatest is that of giving you power and material for making yourself immortal, and surpass in this way the glory of your father and grandfather. Your Holiness should consider first, therefore, that if the City of Florence be kept in its present condition, you may run a thousand dangers, if incidents happen: and before they happen, Your Holiness has to endure a thousand annoyances unbearable to any man; of which annoyances the Most Reverend Monsignor the Cardinal can give witness, having been in Florence these past months; and these arise partly from the many Citizens who are presumptuous and unbearable in their demands, partly from the many who think they do not live securely, things being as they are, and therefore do nothing other than to assert that the government should be reorganized. And some talk of enlarging it, some that it ought to be restricted; and no one comes to particulars on the method of restricting or enlarging it, for they are all confused; and as they do not think they are living securely in the manner in which they live, they do not know how to prepare to do it, and they do not believe those who should know: such that with their confusion they are apt to confound any well regulated brain.

In wanting to avoid these annoyances, therefore, there are only two ways: either to withdraw yourself from audiences, and not give them the courage to ask even in an ordinary way, or of speaking unless requested to, as did the Duke of illustrious Memory: or rather, to organize the State in a way that it administers itself, and that it is enough for Your Holiness to keep only half an eye turned on it; of which methods, this last is free from both dangers and annoyances, while the other frees you from annoyances only.

But to return to the dangers which are incurred with things being as they are, I want to make a prophecy, that if an incident should happen, and the City is not otherwise reorganized, one of two things will happen, or both or them together: either there will be a head created instantly amid tumults, who will defend the State with arms and violence, or one party will run to open the Hall of the Council, and give the other in prey; and whichever of these two things ensues, which God forbid, Your Holiness may think of how many dead, how many exiles, how much extortion would ensue to make every most cruel man, not to mention Your Holiness who is most merciful, die of sorrow. Nor is there another way of avoiding these evils than to reorganize that City so that it may in itself be firm; and it will always be firm when every one has a part in it and knows what he has to do, and in whom to confide, and that no class of Citizen has to desire innovations, either through fear for himself or through ambition.

THOUGHTS OF A STATESMAN

Translated by Christian Detmold, 1882

CONTENTS

PREFATORY NOTE.

NICCOLO MACHIAVELLI TO HIS SON BERNARDO.

CHAPTER I. RELIGION.

CHAPTER II. PEACE AND WAR.

CHAPTER III. THE ADMIRABLE LAW OF NATIONS BORN WITH CHRISTIANITY.

CHAPTER IV. VICES THAT HAVE MADE THE GREAT THE PREY OF THE SMALL.

CHAPTER V. LAWS.

CHAPTER VI. JUSTICE.

CHAPTER VII. PUBLIC CHARGES.

CHAPTER VIII. OF AGRICULTURE, COMMERCE, POPULATION, LUXURY, AND SUPPLIES.

CHAPTER IX. THE EVILS OF IDLENESS.

CHAPTER X. ILL EFFECTS OF A CORRUPT GOVERNMENT.

CHAPTER XI. NOTABLE PRECEPTS AND MAXIMS.

CHAPTER XII. BEAUTIFUL EXAMPLE OF A GOOD FATHER OF A FAMILY.

CHAPTER XIII. THE GOOD PRINCE.

CHAPTER XIV. OF THE MINISTERS.

CHAPTER XV. THE TYRANT PRINCE.

CHAPTER XVI. PRAISE AND SAFETY OF THE GOOD PRINCE, AND INFAMY AND DANGER OF THE TYRANT.

PREFATORY NOTE.

This collection of maxims, extracted from the works of Machiavelli, was made by an eminent Italian jurist and man of letters, who selected and arranged them to show the injustice of the charges against the writings of Machiavelli, resulting from an unfair prejudice and imperfect understanding of his sentiments. The little book was printed in Rome, with the entire approval of the Papal censors, in the year 1771. Subsequently a corrected edition was printed at Lausanne in Switzerland, enriched with a polished dedicatory letter, pretending to have been written by Machiavelli himself to his son. This letter was so exactly in the style of Machiavelli that it deceived the public, and even those best acquainted with his writings. To give it still more a varnish of authenticity, a little note was added to the letter intended to make it appear that it had been found amongst the papers of Francesco del Nero.

Supposing that it may be interesting to the reader, a translation of this letter is subjoined.

NICCOLO MACHIAVELLI TO HIS SON BERNARDO.

In these few pages, my son, you have the substance of many volumes, the fruit of many years of labor of mine, and of the immense labor of others during many centuries. Study then, whilst still young yourself, the thoughts of a head blanched by age. I know that some one has poured out his venom against my writings because he has formed his judgment upon each one separately, instead of all together, and has looked more to the words than the spirit; as if one could judge correctly of a work or a science or art from a single part, and not the whole together, or could judge of the colors without regard to the drawing. These sentences, my son, if you are more favored by Heaven than myself, will serve you as a sufficient training for the safe management of affairs and the carrying them to a happy end. Vale!

CHAPTER I. RELIGION.

All enterprises to be undertaken should be for the honor of God and the general good of the country.

2. The fear of God facilitates every enterprise undertaken by governments.

3. Wherever there is religion, there every good may be presupposed; and where it is lacking, there all evil may be presupposed.

4. As the observance of Divine worship is the cause of the greatness of states, so the disregard of Divine worship is the cause of their ruin.

5. The non-observance of religion and of laws are vices that are the more detestable as they are caused by those who govern.

6. It is impossible that he who governs should himself be respected by those who disregard the Deity.

7. In well-constituted governments the citizens fear more to break their oaths than the laws; because they esteem the power of God more than that of men.

8. Governments that wish to maintain themselves incorrupt must above all else maintain religious ceremonies uncorrupted, and hold them always in the highest veneration.

9. If in all the governments of the Christian republic religion were maintained as it was instituted by its Divine Founder, the state and the Christian republics would be much more united and happy than what they are now.

10. To show little reverence to God, and still less to the Church, is not the act of a free man, but of one that is dissolute, and more inclined to evil than to good.

11. The disregard of all devotion and of all religion brings with it many troubles and infinite disorders.

12. St. Francis and St. Dominic, by their poverty and the example of the life of Christ, brought back the Christian religion into the minds of men, and restored it to its original principles.

13. The Christian religion, having shown us the truth and the true way, should be interpreted according to virtue, and not according to idleness.

14. It is not proper that men should pass their holidays in idleness and in places of pleasure.

15. Amongst all the qualities that distinguish a citizen in his country is his being above all other men liberal and munificent, especially in the construction of public edifices, such as churches, monasteries, and retreats for the poor, for the infirm, and for pilgrims.

16. The good citizen, although constantly spending money in the building of churches and in charities, yet complains that he has never been able to spend so much in honor of God but what he finds himself His debtor on his books.

17. It is proper to thank God, when in his infinite goodness he deigns to accord to a state or to a citizen some mark of approval, which the one has merited by its greatness, and the other by his rare virtues and wisdom.

CHAPTER II. PEACE AND WAR.

A good and wise prince should love peace and avoid war.

2. Those who counsel a prince have to fear lest he should have some one near him who in time of peace desires war, because he cannot gain his living without it.

3. Arms should be reserved for the last extremity, when all other means prove insufficient.

4. A prince who has any feelings of humanity cannot altogether rejoice at a victory that spreads sorrow amongst all his subjects.

5. The increase of power and state brings with it an increase  of enmity and envy, the invariable sources of war and disaster.

6. That government alone is durable which rests upon the free will of the governed.

7. He who, blinded by ambition, rises to a place from which he cannot rise any higher, necessarily prepares for a most disastrous fall.

8. In a well-constituted government, wars, peace, and alliances are decided upon, not for the satisfaction of the few, but for the general good.

9. That war is just which is necessary.

10. The people will complain of a war made without reason.

11. Not he who first takes to arms is the cause of the mischief, but he who gives the first cause for taking to arms.

12. Princes should remember that wars are begun at the will of others, but are not terminated at the will of others.

13. Whenever victory impoverishes or conquests enfeeble us, we ought to abandon them, or we shall not arrive at the aim for which the war is made.

14. He who is impoverished by war cannot acquire strength, even though he is victorious, for he expends more than what he gains by his conquests.

15. In badly organized governments, victories first empty the treasury; after that they impoverish the people without securing them against the enemy. Thence the victor enjoys his victory but little, and the enemy does not feel the loss.

16. We must guard against the conquest of such cities or provinces as revenge themselves upon the victor without fighting and without blood; but who by corrupting him with their evil habits expose him to be overcome by whoever assails him.

17. The valor of men is pleasing even to the enemy, whilst cowardice and malice are despised.

18. He who makes too much account of the cuirass, and wishes to be honored with it on, incurs no loss that he values so much as that of his reputation.

19. Even in war but little glory is derived from any fraud that involves the breaking of a given pledge and of agreements made.

20. An ally should prefer his pledged faith to advantages or to perils.

21. The greatest and most important care for the commander  of an army is to have near him men that are faithful, experienced in war, and prudent, with whom he can constantly counsel and discuss as to his own troops and those of the enemy, from whom he can learn which are the most numerous, which the best armed, the best mounted, and the best drilled, which the most able to bear privations, and on which to rely most, whether on infantry or cavalry.

22. No qualities are calculated to win for a commander the good will of the people so much as examples of chastity and justice.

23. Even in war it is a cruel, inhuman, and impious thing to dishonor the women, to debauch the virgins, and not to spare temples and holy places.

24. An act of humanity and clemency has more influence with men than an act of ferocity and violence; and there are many instances when provinces or cities that would not yield to arms, to engines of war, or to any other human force, have surrendered to an example of humanity, piety, charity, or generosity. History has many proofs of this. The capture of Carthagena in Spain did not give Scipio Africanus so great a reputation as the example of chastity which he gave when he restored a beautiful young wife intact to her husband. The fame of this act won him the friendship of all Spain. We see from this how much the people desire that those who are above them should possess these virtues, and how much they are praised by historians; and by those who write the lives of princes, as well as by those authors who teach them how to bear themselves. Amongst these Xenophon takes the greatest pains to show what honors, what victories, and what glory Cyrus won by being humane and affable, and by not having given any proofs of pride, cruelty, or luxuriousness, or of any other vice that stains the lives of men.

25. It is never wise to drive an enemy to desperation.

26. People readily subject themselves to the empire of him who treats the vanquished as brothers, and not as enemies.

27. Whoever is harsh and cruel in commanding is badly obeyed by his subjects; but whoever is kind and humane meets with ready obedience.

28. To command a multitude it is better to be humane than proud, and merciful rather than cruel.

29. Those Roman commanders who made themselves beloved  by their armies, and managed them with condescension, achieved greater advantages than those who made themselves extraordinarily feared by their soldiers.

30. Humanity, affability, and a courteous reception on the part of the commander, have great influence upon the minds of the soldiers; and the giving advice to the one, the promising to another, the taking one by the hand and embracing another, makes them rush with impetuosity to the attack.

31. It is important in armies strictly to distribute rewards and punishments to those who by their good or evil conduct have merited praise or blame. In this way great control is obtained over the troops.

32. The respect for the commander, his habits, and his other great qualities, often cause an immediate suspension of arms.

33. The prince who has plenty of subjects, and lacks soldiers, should not complain of the cowardice of men, but of his own indolence and want of wisdom.

34. An army which disregards justice, and consumes in a reckless manner its means of subsistence, cannot escape want. For the first disorder causes the non-arrival of provisions, and the other useless consumption of those that do arrive.

35. The morals of a soldier should be looked to above all else. He must have honesty and a sense of shame; otherwise he will prove but an instrument of scandal and the first cause of corruption. For it is impossible to believe that either valor or anything praiseworthy can result from a dishonest education, or an impure and immodest mind.

36. If in republics or monarchies it is necessary to have special ordinances for keeping men loyal, peaceful, and in the fear of God, then is it doubly necessary with soldiers. For where should the country look for more devotion than in him who has promised to die for her? Where should she look for greater love of peace than in him who can only be injured by war? And where should there be more fear of God than in him who, being every day exposed to an infinity of dangers, has more need of Divine aid than any one else?

37. The disreputable, the idle, the unbridled, the impious, the fugitives from paternal control, blasphemers, gamblers, and in all respects the badly brought up, should not be accepted as soldiers; for nothing can be more contrary to good discipline than such habits.

38. Women and odious games should be prohibited in armies; soldiers should be so constantly exercised, both individually and collectively, that they have no time left them to think of women, or games, or anything else that renders them seditious and useless.

39. A well-regulated government selects for war men in the flower of their age, when the legs, the hands, and the eye respond to each other; and it waits not until the men come to an age when the forces diminish and wickedness increases.

40. Arms in the hands of national troops, and given them by the laws and regulations, have never done any injury, but have rather always proved useful; and republics maintain themselves longer untainted by means of such arms, than without them.

41. We should imitate the ancients in the boldness and strength of their actions, and not in those that were feeble and effeminate.

42. We should pray God to grant victory to him who brings safety and peace to Christendom.

43. Whoever is content with a moderate victory will always be the better for it; for those who wish to carry it too far often lose.

44. A city that voluntarily surrenders can afford you advantage and security; but to be obliged to hold a city by force causes you weakness and injury in times of adversity; and in peaceful times it causes loss and expense.

45. To conclude an agreement it is necessary to cancel the difficulties that have arisen.

46. An agreement concluded with good intentions is maintained the best.

47. It is the business of a good prince, after the termination of war, to turn his mind to his own greatness and to that of his state.

48. A man proves himself excellent in war and in peace, when in the former he proves himself victorious, and when in the latter he greatly benefits his state and his people.

49. A prince who excels in the conduct of affairs will recover in peace twofold what he has lost in war.

50. The way for a prince to maintain his state is to be armed with troops of his own, to show love and affection to his subjects, and friendship to his neighbors.

CHAPTER III. THE ADMIRABLE LAW OF NATIONS BORN WITH CHRISTIANITY.

With the Gentiles the men vanquished in war were either killed, or they remained in perpetual slavery, where they led a most miserable existence. The cities that were taken were either destroyed, or the inhabitants, after having been stripped of their goods and possessions, were expelled and scattered throughout the world, so that the unfortunate in war led the most miserable existence. But the Christian religion has been the cause that but few of the vanquished are killed, and none are kept long in captivity. For they can easily liberate themselves; and the cities, though they have a thousand times rebelled, are not destroyed, and the inhabitants are left in the enjoyment of their possessions.

2. Our Christian princes, in the midst of their conquests, show an equal affection for the cities that have become subject to them; they leave them almost all their ancient institutions, and all their industries; differing in that respect from the barbarous potentates of the East, who are devastators of the countries and destroyers of all civilization amongst men.

CHAPTER IV. VICES THAT HAVE MADE THE GREAT THE PREY OF THE SMALL.

Those ancient princes deceived themselves when they thought that the art of well governing their states consisted in knowledge, in writings, in making a cautious reply, in inditing a clever letter, in displaying in their words and sayings smartness and quickness, in skilfully contriving a fraud, in adorning themselves with gems and with gold, in sleeping and eating with greater splendor than others, in surrounding themselves with luxuries and indulging in licentiousness, in bearing themselves towards their subjects with avarice and pride, in spoiling in idleness, in bestowing grades in the army by favor, in treating with neglect whoever had distinguished himself by some  praiseworthy action, and in requiring that their words should be accepted as the responses of oracles. Unhappy men! they did not perceive that by all this they prepared themselves to fall victims to whoever chose to attack them. Witness Italy, where three of the most powerful states were pillaged and laid waste, because the princes who governed them persisted in similar errors, and lived in the same disorder.

CHAPTER V. LAWS.

We ought to attach little value to living in a city where the laws are less powerful than men. That country only is desirable where you can enjoy your substance and your friends in security, and not that where your property can be easily taken away from you, and where your friends, for fear of their own property, abandon you in your greatest need.

2. A state cannot exist securely unless it has bound itself by many laws, in which the security of all its population is comprised.

3. Whoever is not restrained by the laws commits the same error as an unrestrained mob.

4. The power of the law is capable of overcoming every obstacle, even that of the nature of the territory.

5. As the preservation of good morals needs good laws, so the laws, to maintain themselves, require good morals.

6. To prevent good morals from being corrupted and changed into bad morals, the legislator must restrain the human passions and deprive men of all hope of being able to trespass with impunity.

7. It is the laws that make men good.

8. Good laws give rise to good education.

9. Good education produces good examples.

10. In a well-constituted government the laws are made for the public good, and not to satisfy the ambition of a few.

11. To despoil any one of his goods by new laws, at a time when he claims them with justice before the tribunals, is a wrong that will bring with it the greatest dangers to the legislator.

12. Where a thing works well by itself without the support of the law, there law is not necessary.

13. No law should ever stain the pledged faith of public engagements.

14. No more injurious laws can be made than such as are retroactive to a great extent of time.

15. Laws should not go back upon things of the past, but should thoroughly provide for the future.

16. Nothing does so much honor to a man newly risen to eminence, as to make new laws and new regulations devised by himself. If these, when once established, show that they have grandeur in them, then will they render the man an object of reverence and admiration.

17. It does not suffice for the welfare of a state to have a prince who governs wisely during his life; but it is necessary to have one who regulates matters in such a manner that even after his death the state shall maintain itself.

18. A general rule that never fails is this: make no change where there is no defect, as that produces nothing but disorder. But where there is nothing but disorder, the less you leave of the old, the less will there remain of what is bad.

19. The governments that are best regulated and have most vitality are those which, by means of their institutions, can renew themselves. And the way to renew themselves is, to bring the government back to its original principles; as, for instance, to make the people resume their observances of religion and of justice when these begin to become corrupt.

20. That state may call itself happy which has produced a man so wise that he gives to the state laws so regulated that the people can live under them securely without the necessity of reforming them.

21. The reformer of laws must act with prudence, justice, and integrity, and must manage in such manner that from his reforms shall result the good, the welfare of his people, justice, and the well-regulated life of the citizens.

22. That law can never be praised which conceals many defects under small advantage.

CHAPTER VI. JUSTICE.

A good prince must preserve perfect justice in his states, and in giving audiences he must be affable and gracious.

2. He must watch diligently that justice have its full course.

3. By favoring justice, you show that injustice displeases you.

4. Judges, to have dignity and consideration, should be of an advanced age.

5. It is necessary that the judges should be numerous; for when there are but few, they always act with regard to the convenience of the few.

6. It is the duty and office of every man who claims justice to demand it by legal means, and never to employ force.

7. We must employ all proper means to repress violence and force, and that whoever claims justice shall employ the regular way for obtaining it, and aid no one to employ force or violence.

8. Respecting condemnations, none but such as are for civil offences should be commuted; but no condemnation for criminal offences should ever be commuted.

9. A well-constituted government should prevent the disorders arising from equal condemnations, which impoverish both parties, who will in consequence continue to aggravate each other.

10. In condemnations there should be used humanity, moderation, and mercy.

11. It is proper for relatives to adjust their differences amicably rather than by litigation; to settle them by compromise is laudable.

12. To avoid causing trouble to both parties, the judge, after having heard and thoroughly examined the case, should make every effort to reconcile the parties to each other, which would be a most praiseworthy act.

13. The judge, after having heard both parties and the arguments of each, should in a kindly way, and without compulsion,  by the sole force of justice, endeavor to reconcile the parties to each other; which is a laudable act. But if he fails in this effort, then he must administer reason and justice according to the laws.

14. The judge must listen kindly to all parties, and render justice to each with impartiality.

15. The judge must hear and diligently examine the cause, and must render justice to either of the parties, according as reason and honesty demand.

16. In writing or speaking to a judge, asking him to favor your cause, you must not say to him anything else than that, if he can aid you without departing from exact justice, you would esteem it very much.

CHAPTER VII. PUBLIC CHARGES.

The imposts, to be equal, must be distributed by the law, and not by any one man.

2. Sumptuousness obliges the prince to impose extraordinary charges upon the people, and to see that the public treasury is well supplied.

3. Expenditures engender exactions, and exactions produce complaints.

4. By economy the prince becomes able to show liberality to all those from whom he takes nothing, and these are numberless; but it is regarded as avarice by those to whom he gives nothing, and these are but few.

5. In the exaction of taxes we must above all have pity on the misery and sufferings of the people, so as to preserve them as much as possible to the country.

6. It is eminently proper to feel pity for the poor and wretched. You must therefore show them compassion, for it is cruel to attempt to get anything where there is nothing.

7. The wretchedness of the people demands that, in the exaction of taxes, you should show them mercy and moderation, by bearing with them, and not trying to get from them more than they can possibly pay.

8. By honest and ordinary proceedings, the taxes can be reduced to what is just and reasonable.

9. In public works the officials should bear themselves with humanity and moderation towards the laborers of the country; and they should not exasperate them, especially in disastrous times, when they need compassion more than severity. In fact, the principal object of public works is public health, utility, and the good of the country in propitious times; but not to impoverish the inhabitants and excite their discontent.

10. In the carrying on of public works, the laborers of the country should be treated in so kindly a fashion that they come to work voluntarily rather than by compulsion; in fact, a government should have the happiness of the people more at heart than the construction of its public works.

11. Such public works should be carried on with the most becoming and kindly treatment of the workmen, so as not to drive them to despair.

CHAPTER VIII. OF AGRICULTURE, COMMERCE, POPULATION, LUXURY, AND SUPPLIES.

In moderate and peaceful governments the wealth resulting from agriculture and the arts increases most rapidly; for every one eagerly aims to increase and seeks to acquire those goods which he believes that he can enjoy in security. Whence it comes that all men vie with each other in the production of private and public wealth, both of which thus increase in the most marvellous manner.

2. Public security and the protection of the laws are the sinews of agriculture and of commerce. The prince should therefore encourage his subjects quietly to devote themselves to the pursuits of agriculture and commerce, as well as to all other human industries; so that the one may not abstain from embellishing his possessions for fear of their being taken from him, and that the other may not hesitate to open a new traffic for fear of taxes. But he should reward those who are willing to devote themselves to these occupations, and who in any way contribute to the enlargement of the city or state.

3. Landed possessions are more stable and solid riches than those that are founded on commercial industries.

4. The Romans believed very justly that it was not from the extent of territory, but from good cultivation, that riches are derived.

5. It is impossible to make a large city without an abundant population; and this is obtained by a benign government in keeping the roads open, to induce strangers to come and live there, and so that every one may gladly make that city his dwelling-place.

6. Under mild and moderate governments the population is always more numerous; because marriages there are more free and more desired. For every one will gladly have children, when he is sure of being able to support them, and has no fear of their being despoiled of their patrimony; and when he knows not only that they are born free and not slaves, but that by means of their own merits they may even become great.

7. A state increases by being the asylum for the persons that are expelled and dispersed by other states.

8. Colonies cannot successfully organize themselves without pastures in common, where every one can pasture his cattle; and forests in common, where every one may take his firewood.

9. Banishments deprive cities of their inhabitants, of their wealth, and of their industries.

10. The people are rich when they live as though they were poor, and when no one attaches importance to what he has not, but only to that which he needs.

11. The people are rich when the money does not go out of their country, when they are content with what their country produces, and when money is constantly brought into their country by those who want the products of their industry, which they supply to foreign countries.

12. Well-regulated governments have public magazines, where they keep stores of provisions, drink, and firewood sufficient for at least one year.

13. Well-regulated governments, for the purpose of assuring the subsistence of the people without loss to the treasury, should always keep on hand one year’s supply in common of raw materials, so as to keep the people actively employed in  those industries which are the nerve and life of the city, and by means of which the people earn their bread.

14. Those provinces where there is money and order are the nerve and sinews of the state.

CHAPTER IX. THE EVILS OF IDLENESS.

Idleness engenders many evils destructive of good morals; for young men without occupation and without restraint spend far beyond their means in dressing, feasting, and licentiousness. Being idle, they waste their time and substance with gaming and with women. Their study is to appear dressed in rich garments, to express themselves in cunning and subtle language; and he who can thus most dexterously wound others is most esteemed; and the precepts of the Church are entirely disregarded.

2. A state where the inhabitants pass the greater part of their time in idleness cannot produce men suitable for the conduct of business.

3. Idle people are most frequently used as tools by those who desire a disturbance.

4. If the situation of a city conduces of itself to idleness, then the laws should impose upon the inhabitants those necessities to which nature does not oblige them. And the rulers should imitate those wise people who, living in the most agreeable and fertile countries, where the men were given to idleness and indisposed to every severe exercise, for the purpose of obviating the disadvantages which idleness would have added to the softness of the climate, subjected the inhabitants to the necessity of labor and severe exercise.

CHAPTER X. ILL EFFECTS OF A CORRUPT GOVERNMENT.

In a corrupt government there is neither union nor friendship amongst the citizens, unless it be amongst those who are accomplices in some villany.

2. As in corrupt governments all religion and fear of God are extinct, so an oath and a given pledge have lost all value, except when they can be employed for the purpose of gaining some advantage. Men avail themselves of them, not for the purpose of observing them, but because they serve them as a means for deceiving the more easily; and the more easily and securely the fraud succeeds, the more praise and glory are derived from it. The bad men, therefore, are praised as clever, and the honest men are blamed as imbeciles.

3. In a corrupt government the young men are idle and the old men lascivious, and every age and sex given over to abominable practices; which cannot be remedied even by good laws, as these have become corrupt by common practice.

4. From this corruption arise that rapacity which is noticeable in every citizen, and that thirst, not for real glory, but for those discreditable honors which are the sources of hatred, enmity, disagreements, and plots; these are a cause of affliction to the good, and of triumph to the wicked. For the good, confiding in their innocence, do not, like the wicked, seek some one who will defend and honor them by extraordinary means, so that undefended and unhonored the good are ruined.

5. From this example of corruption arises the love of parties and their power; to these the wicked attach themselves from rapacity and ambition, and the good from necessity. And what is most mischievous is to see how the originators of these parties cover their aims and intentions with some pious name or title.

6. It results from this corruption that the ordinances and laws are not made for the public good, but for personal and individual advantage.

7. This corruption causes wars, peace, and alliances to be concluded, not for the common glory, but for the satisfaction of the few.

8. In a city tainted by such disorders, the laws, the statutes, and the civil ordinances are not made for the public good, but have ever been and ever will be established to satisfy the ambition of the dominant party.

CHAPTER XI. NOTABLE PRECEPTS AND MAXIMS.

Great modesty is essential to good manners. You must never do an act or say a word that can cause displeasure. You must be reverent to your superiors, modest with your equals, and affable to your inferiors. These things will make you beloved by the whole city.

2. One of the most important things in this world is to know one’s self, and properly to measure the forces of one’s mind, and one’s condition.

3. Those only deserve to be free who apply themselves to good works, and not to evil ones; for liberty badly employed injures itself and others.

4. To the generous mind, the speaking of the truth gives pleasure, especially when in the presence of wise men.

5. The consideration derived from one’s father or ancestors is fallacious, and is quickly lost when not sustained by one’s own virtue.

6. In judging of the acts of others, we must never cover a dishonest act with an honest reason, nor tarnish a praiseworthy act as having been done for a contrary purpose.

7. Forgiveness springs from a generous spirit.

8. The wise and good man should be content to leave to angry spirits the grave offences resulting from their own violent words.

9. A good citizen should forget his own private wrongs for the love of the public good.

10. Whoever offends wrongfully, gives to others the right to offend him rightfully.

11. The beginning of enmity is injury, and benefits are the beginning of friendship; and he makes a great mistake who, wishing to make another his friend, begins by injuring him.

12. No merciful thought can enter the heart of a dissolute villain.

13. The virtuous man who knows the world is daily less gladdened by good actions, and less saddened by evil ones.

14. A resolute spirit shows that misfortune has no power over it.

15. Superior men retain in all the vicissitudes of fortune the same courage and the same dignity. Weak-minded men become intoxicated in prosperity, attributing all their good fortune to virtues which they never knew, and thus they become insupportable and odious to all those whom they have around them.

16. It is the nature of proud and cowardly men to be insolent in prosperity, and in adversity abject and humble.

17. Fraud is detestable in every action.

18. That man will never be regarded as good, who, for the purpose of always making a profit from an occupation which he carries on, proves himself rapacious, fraudulent, and violent.

19. An evil principle can only produce alike evil results.

20. Evil-disposed men constantly fear that others will do to them what they are conscious of deserving.

21. Of all the insults that can be offered to men, that which touches the honor of their wives is most keenly felt.

22. There is no more certain indication of a man’s character than the company he keeps. A man who frequents honest company acquires deservedly a good name; for it is impossible that he should not somewhat resemble his associates.

23. A man who has been a good friend to others finds good friends in turn.

24. In time of adversity one learns to know the fidelity of one’s friends.

25. There is nothing which a man should not cheerfully spend to serve a friend.

26. It is impossible without tears to recall to memory the loss of one who was gifted with all those qualities that can be desired in a good friend, or in a citizen by his country.

27. When fortune has robbed us of a friend, then there is no other consolation than to try, as far as possible, to enjoy his memory, and to recall all the wise things he has said, and all the good things he has done.

28. There never was and never will be a law that prohibits or censures and condemns mercy, liberality, and benevolence.

29. It is the duty of a virtuous man, who has been prevented by the malignity of fortune from doing good, to teach it to others; so that they, more favored by Heaven than he was, may be able to practise it.

30. The good citizen should be compassionate, and not only give charity to those who ask it, but should frequently supply the wants of the poor without being asked.

31. The good citizen should relieve others in adversity, and sustain them in prosperity.

32. The good citizen should love everybody, praise the good, and have compassion for the bad.

33. There is no gain in benefiting one to offend the many.

34. We must esteem him who is, not him who can be liberal.

35. Nothing makes us meet death with more cheerfulness than to remember that we have never injured any one, but rather benefited everybody.

CHAPTER XII. BEAUTIFUL EXAMPLE OF A GOOD FATHER OF A FAMILY.

Nicomaco was a grave, resolute, and respectable man. He spent his time honorably, rose early in the morning, and, after hearing mass, attended to laying in the provisions for the day. After that, if he had any business in the public square, in the market, or with the magistrates, he attended to it. And when he had nothing to do, he either amused himself in discussing serious matters with some neighbor, or he withdrew at home into his library, where he reviewed his writings and regulated his accounts. After that he dined pleasantly with his family, and during dinner he conversed with his son, gave him good advice, and taught him to know mankind; and by some example drawn from ancient or modern times, he instructed him how to live. After that he went out and employed the remainder of the day in attending to business, or in grave and honest amusements. When evening came the Ave Maria always found him at home, where he remained awhile with his family by the fireside, if it was winter, and  then returned to his library to revise the business he had done, and then at the third hour all enjoyed a cheerful supper. This habit of life was an example to all the others in the house, which every one was ashamed not to imitate; and thus everything went its regular and cheerful course.

CHAPTER XIII. THE GOOD PRINCE.

The good prince, by his rare and virtuous example, produces in the government as it were the same effect as the laws and regulations. For the real virtues of a prince have so much influence that the good men desire to imitate him, and the bad ones are ashamed to follow a different course of life.

2. The eminent qualities of the prince make him feared and beloved by his subjects, and most highly esteemed by other princes; and thus he leaves to his descendants authority founded upon a broad basis.

3. It is often seen that, when two princes of great virtue succeed each other, they achieve the greatest results, so that their fame rises to heaven. David doubtless excelled in war, in knowledge, and in judgment; and so great was his valor that, after having vanquished and humbled his neighbors, he left to his son Solomon a tranquil kingdom, which he could preserve and embellish with the arts of peace and war, and thus could enjoy happily the benefits of his father’s virtues.

4. The successive reign of two valorous princes is sufficient, so to say, to conquer the whole world.

5. Nothing causes a prince to be more esteemed than when he renders himself famous by some act or wise saying, consistent with the public good, and which shows the prince to be magnanimous, liberal, and just, and which becomes familiar as a proverb amongst all his subjects.

6. A prince should aim to have the obedience and affection of his subjects. He obtains their obedience by being himself a strict observer of the law, and by having the reputation of being brave. And he wins their affection by affability, humanity, and benevolence.

7. It is much easier for a good and wise prince to be beloved by the good than by the bad, and to obey the laws rather than to wish to control them. And to know how to arrive at this, he need undergo no other trouble than to copy like a mirror the lives of good princes, such as Timoleon of Corinth, Arato of Sicyon, and others like them. In their lives he will find such security and such satisfaction, for him who rules as well as for those who are ruled, that it ought to excite the desire to imitate them, which is easily done. For when men are well governed they neither seek nor wish for any other liberty.

8. To be humane, affable, show no sign of cruelty, pride, sensuality, nor any other vice that taints men’s lives, will bring a prince honors, victories, and renown.

9. A wise and virtuous prince, to preserve his own character, and not to give his sons cause for becoming bad, will never build fortresses; so that his sons may not attempt to found their reliance upon such fortresses, but upon the good will and affection of his subjects.

10. A prince should receive his subjects with so much affability that no one, after having spoken to him, should go away dissatisfied.

11. A prince should occasionally meet his citizens in their assemblies, and give them proof of his affability and magnificence. He should, however, always preserve the majesty of his office, which will not bear to be disregarded even in the slightest degree.

12. In principalities that have proper institutions absolute authority is never given to any one except in the army, for there only is an immediate decision often necessary, requiring absolute authority in one man. In all other matters the wise and good prince can do nothing without his council.

13. A prince should shun flatterers as he does the pest; and to defend himself from them he must choose wise men as counsellors, and give them full power to tell him the truth.

14. A prince should be an extensive questioner, and a patient listener to the truth touching the things he has asked about; and if he finds that any one does not tell him the truth from fear, then he should manifest his displeasure in consequence.

15. Good counsels, no matter whence they come, should be the result of the prudence of the prince, but the prudence of the prince should not spring from good counsels.

16. The counsels of a head blanched with age and full of experience are the wisest and most useful.

17. A prince will derive great glory from having been the founder of his principality; bestowing honor upon it, and strengthening it by good laws, good allies, and good examples.

18. A prince should be agreeable to his allies, feared by his enemies, just towards his subjects, and loyal in his dealings with foreigners.

19. A prince should aim to keep his city abundantly supplied, his people united, and the nobility honored.

20. In bestowing offices and honors the prince should seek for merit wherever it is to be found, regardless of birth.

21. The practices, similar to those of the ancients, which a good prince should introduce in his state are, to honor and reward virtue, not to contemn poverty, to respect the regulations of military discipline, to constrain the citizens to love each other, to live without factions, to respect private interests less than public ones, and other similar things.

22. Every one knows how laudable it is in a prince to keep his pledges, to live with integrity, and not with craft and deceit.

23. The public faith pledged by a prince to his subjects should be inviolably observed.

24. The good prince knows not and never will give occasion for any subject of scandal; for he is a lover of peace and of justice.

25. It is the duty of the prince to turn offenders from the road of sin, and to bring them back to the right road.

26. Calumnies are detestable in every kind of government, and to restrain them the prince should not hesitate to pass any regulations that will effect it.

27. The good and wise prince should be a lover and protector of men of letters.

28. He should open public schools under the direction of the most distinguished men, so that the youth may apply themselves to the study of letters.

29. He should love all those who excel in any one art.

30. The prince must take care that his people never lack the means of subsistence.

31. He must fix honest and just prices for the provisions, and above all he must see that the poor have their due and are not defrauded.

CHAPTER XIV. OF THE MINISTERS.

There should be a great distance between the authority of the minister and that of the prince.

2. What excites admiration for a minister is his vigilance, prudence, magnanimity, and in fact the good regulation of the government.

3. A minister who does not counsel useful measures to his prince, regardless of all other considerations, fails in his duty.

4. He who counsels princes must act in all matters with moderation, and must not himself assume the responsibility of anything; he must give his opinion without passion, and defend it with modesty, so that if the prince follows his counsel he may do it voluntarily, and not seem to be carried away by importunity.

5. The minister should defend his opinion with reasons, and not attempt to employ either authority or force.

6. A wise minister should recognize evils from afar, so as to prevent their growth in time; or he should take such precautions that, if these evils do grow, they shall do no harm.

7. A minister should pursue his course with courage and vigilance, regardless of any other considerations.

8. The good minister fears no undertaking which he knows to be for the public good.

9. The minister should never, from fear of a vain reproach, abandon any project which he knows to be for the advantage of the state.

10. Calumnies directed against any one employed in important affairs of state are injuries that may do much harm.

11. The minister should do everything so as not to be obliged to justify himself, for justification presupposes error, or the supposition of error.

12. It behooves the minister, in case he has to reprove any one, not to offer the opportunity of being himself reproved.

13. The object for which ministers are sent into a city is to rule and govern the subjects with affection and justice, and not to dispute and contend with each other. But they should  agree together like brothers and citizens appointed by the same prince.

14. The minister who thinks more of himself than of the prince and the state will never be a good minister; for he who has the management of the state in his hands must never think of himself, but only of the prince, and must never bring anything to his notice that does not concern him.

15. The minister must administer his office for the public good, and not for his own advantage.

16. Whoever is a slave to his own passions can never serve another well.

17. It rarely happens that private passions do not prejudice public convenience.

18. The minister must be a stranger to public rapine, and should labor to increase the wealth of the state.

19. In a state corrupted by parties, everything, even the smallest, becomes a subject of contention amongst the ministers. The secrets of the state are made public, the good and the wicked are alike favored or disfavored. The good as well as the bad are equally defamed, and no one attends to his business.

20. A minister should beware of either cunning or audacious parties; for although they may in the beginning seem good, yet they soon become difficult to manage, and end by becoming dangerous.

21. The minister should guard against those errors which, although not known, yet prove the ruin of the state.

22. The idleness of princes and the faithlessness of ministers will ruin an empire, although founded upon the blood of ever so many brave men.

23. A foreign minister should be acceptable to the sovereign to whom he is sent, and should be practical, prudent, zealous, and devoted to his sovereign and his country.

24. A minister should be able to discuss the condition of states, the disposition of the princes and the people, and what may be hoped for from peace and feared in war.

25. The minister must remember that titles do not make men illustrious, but men the titles, and that neither blood nor authority has ever any reputation without virtue.

26. The minister should die richer in good fame and benevolence than in treasure.

CHAPTER XV. THE TYRANT PRINCE.

It is not less useful to observe the cunning and the deceits which tyrannous princes employ to keep up a reputation which they have not merited, than to know and observe virtuous actions. For if the latter incite the liberal spirits to imitate them, the former will prompt the desire to avoid and destroy them.

2. The tyrant prince, happily unknown in our age, had no regard for anything but his personal interests.

3. To carry his evil thoughts into effect, he made pretence of religion and humanity.

4. He broke the laws of the state, and governed it arbitrarily.

5. He violated the laws and the ancient rules and customs under which the people had lived for a long time.

6. He stripped the magistrates of all the emblems of honor, and of all authority, and appropriated them to himself.

7. The taxes which he imposed upon the people were heavy, and his judgments were unjust.

8. The business that used to be transacted publicly to everybody’s satisfaction, he transferred to his own palace, incurring thereby the reproaches and the just hatred of the people.

9. The strict justice and humanity which he feigned at the beginning were soon changed into haughtiness and cruelty.

10. So as not to govern better without than within the city, he appointed rectors throughout the country, who beat and despoiled the country people.

11. He favored the populace so as the better to beat down the great, whom he always regarded with suspicion, although he was supported by them. For he did not believe that the generous spirits that used to be amongst the nobility could live contentedly under his despotism.

12. His favorite maxim, and which cannot be sufficiently detested, was, that men must be caressed or exterminated.

13. By frequent and continuous executions he impoverished and depopulated the cities.

14. Everybody’s hands were tied, and every mouth was closed, and whoever found fault with the tyrant’s government was punished with cruelty.

15. In his government he showed himself avaricious and cruel; in granting audiences, difficult; and in his replies, haughty.

16. He made and unmade men at his pleasure.

17. He wanted the subjection and not the good will of his people, and for that reason he preferred to be feared rather than beloved.

18. He changed all the institutions of the government, and left nothing intact; and he removed the inhabitants from one province to another, like herds of cattle.

19. As such proceedings are most cruel, and opposed, not only to all Christian, but even humane ways of living, every man should avoid them and prefer private life rather than the life of a prince at the expense of so much injury to mankind.

20. It was this conduct that filled his subjects with indignation; for they saw the majesty of the state destroyed, the institutions overthrown, the laws annulled, and every honest way of living corrupted, and all civil modesty extinct.

21. These methods and extraordinary ways rendered the prince himself unhappy and insecure; for the more cruelty he practised, the feebler his government became.

22. In this wise the state of the prince became an example of all the greatest villanies; the slightest ground gave occasion for executions and the grossest rapine, which was due to the wickedness of the ruler, and not to the evil nature of the governed. And as the needs of the tyrant prince were endless, he was obliged to resort to constant rapine, which he practised in many ways.

23. Amongst other dishonest practices of the tyrant was that of enacting laws prohibiting certain acts, which laws he was afterwards himself the first to infringe. This caused a general disregard of these laws; but he never punished the offenders until he saw that a great number had made themselves liable; and then he turned to punish them, not from zeal for the law, but from cupidity, so as to have them ransom themselves from the penalty.

24. Thence arose many inconveniences, and, above all this, that the people became impoverished without being improved.

25. And those who were thus impoverished endeavored to take advantage of those who were less powerful than themselves.

26. Whence it comes that all the crimes committed by the people who are governed by a tyrant arise necessarily from the fact that he himself is stained by similar crimes.

CHAPTER XVI. PRAISE AND SAFETY OF THE GOOD PRINCE, AND INFAMY AND DANGER OF THE TYRANT.

As the founders of a well-constituted government deserve praise, so those of a tyranny merit infamy.

2. Those who incline to tyranny do not perceive how much fame, honor, security, quiet, and contentment of the soul they lose, incurring instead so much infamy, ignominy, blame, danger, and disquietude.

3. It is impossible that those princes, if they have read history and attached any value to the memory of things of the past, should not have wished rather to have lived like Agesilaus, Timoleon, and Dion, who were good princes, than like Nabis, Phalaris, and Dionysius, who were tyrants. For they would have seen that the latter were covered with infamy, whilst the former were overwhelmed with praise.

4. They would also have seen how Timoleon and the others had no less authority in their countries than what Dionysius and Phalaris had in theirs, and that they enjoyed infinitely more security.

5. We should consider how much more those Emperors deserved praise who lived conformably to the laws, and as good princes, than those whose lives were the opposite.

6. It will be seen that Titus, Nerva, Trajan, Antoninus, and Marcus Aurelius did not need the Prætorian troops nor a multiplicity of laws to defend them; for their own good habits, the affection of the people, and the love of the Senate, protected them.

7. It will be seen how insufficient the eastern and western armies were to protect Caligula, Nero, Vitellius, and many  other wicked Emperors, against those enemies which their evil practices and their villanous lives had created.

8. If the history of these Emperors were well considered, it would be a good lesson to those princes who are inclined to become tyrants; for it would teach them the way to glory or to shame, and of security or of fear. For out of twenty-six Emperors that reigned from Cæsar to Maximin, sixteen were assassinated, and only ten died a natural death. And if amongst those that were killed there were some that were good, like Galba and Pertinax, their death resulted from that corruption which their predecessors had allowed to enter the army.

9. If we consider the times when Rome was governed by good Emperors, we shall see a prince secure in the midst of his secure citizens, the whole world enjoying peace and justice, the Senate in all its authority, the magistrates with their honors, the wealthy citizens enjoying their riches, and nobility and virtue exalted. We shall also see all license, corruption, and ambition extinct; in fact, we should see a return of the golden times when everybody could fearlessly hold and defend whatever opinion he chose to entertain. In fine, we should see the world triumph, the prince surrounded with respect and glory, and the people filled with love and a sense of security.

10. Whoever studies the period when Rome was governed by tyrants, will find that she was torn by atrocious wars; full of discord in consequence of seditions; cruel both in peace and in war; many princes killed by the sword, and endless civil and foreign wars; all Italy afflicted and full of fresh disasters, and her cities pillaged and in ruins. He will see Rome herself burned, her Capitol destroyed by her own citizens, the ancient temples desolate, the religious ceremonies corrupted, the city filled with adultery, the sea full of exiles, and the rocky shores stained with blood. He will find endless cruelty in Rome, and nobility, riches, honors, and, above all, virtue, treated as capital crimes. He will see the informers rewarded, the servants corrupted to denounce their masters, the freedmen opposed to their patrons, and those who had no enemies oppressed by their own friends.

11. After this, whoever is of woman born should dread a recurrence of times when the wicked governed, and should be moved with an intense desire to see the good prince imitated.

12. He should desire to possess a corrupt city, not to waste it entirely like Cæsar, but to reform it like Romulus. And truly Heaven could not give men a greater opportunity for glory, nor could men desire any greater. In short, those to whom Heaven vouchsafes such an opportunity should regard it as though two ways were offered them; the one leading to a life of security, and after life a glorious memory; and the other, to a life of perpetual anxiety, and after death eternal infamy.

DIPLOMATIC MISSIONS

Translated by Christian Detmold, 1882

CONTENTS

MISSIONS.

MISSION TO THE LORD OF PIOMBINO.

LETTER OF THE MAGISTRACY OF THE TEN TO THE LORD OF PIOMBINO.

MISSION OF MACHIAVELLI TO THE SAME.

MISSION TO THE COUNTESS CATHARINE SFORZA.

LETTER I.

LETTER II.

LETTER III.

LETTER IV.

LETTER V.

LETTER VI.

LETTER VII.

COMMISSION TO THE ARMY IN THE FIELD AGAINST THE PISANS.

LETTER I. FROM LUCA DEGLI ALBIZZI TO THE SIGNORIA OF FLORENCE.

LETTER II.

LETTER III. FROM GIO. BATTISTA BARTOLINI TO THE SIGNORIA OF FLORENCE.

LETTER IV. COPY OF A LETTER WRITTEN BY ME, LUCA DI ANTONIO DEGLI ALBIZZI, TO THE ILLUSTRIOUS AND MAGNIFICENT SIGNORIA, 9 JULY, 22D HOUR.

LETTER V. THE MAGISTRACY OF THE TEN TO GIOV. BATTISTA BARTOLINI, COMMISSIONER AT CASCINA, JULY 9, 1500.

LETTER VI. THE MAGISTRACY OF THE TEN TO LUCA DEGLI ALBIZZI, IN CAMP, 10 JULY, 1500.

LETTER VII. COPY OF A LETTER FROM HIS MOST CHRISTIAN MAJESTY KING LOUIS XII. OF FRANCE TO THE SIGNORI OF FLORENCE, DATED AT ROUEN, 27 JULY, 1500.

MISSION TO THE COURT OF FRANCE. 18 July, 1500.

INSTRUCTIONS GIVEN TO FRANCESCO DELLA CASA AND NICCOLO MACHIAVELLI BY LORENZO LENZI, AMBASSADOR, ETC., ETC.

LETTER I.

LETTER II.

LETTER III.

LETTER IV.

LETTER V.

LETTER VI.

LETTER VII.

LETTER VIII.

LETTER IX.

LETTER X.

LETTER XI.

LETTER XII.

LETTER XIII.

LETTER XIV.

LETTER XV.

LETTER XVI.

LETTER XVII.

LETTER XVIII.

LETTER XIX.

LETTER XX.

LETTER XXI.

LETTER XXII.

LETTER XXIII.

LETTER XXIV.

LETTER XXV.

LETTER XXVI.

LETTER XXVII.

LETTER XXVIII.

THE MAGISTRACY OF THE TEN TO FRANCESCO DELLA CASA AND NICCOLO MACHIAVELLI.

MISSION TO THE DUKE OF VALENTINOIS. October 5, 1502.

COMMISSION GIVEN TO NICCOLO MACHIAVELLI, 5TH OCTOBER, 1502.

LETTER I.

LETTER II.

LETTER III.

LETTER IV.

LETTER V.

LETTER VI.

LETTER VII.

LETTER VIII.

LETTER IX.

LETTER X.

LETTER XI.

LETTER XII.

LETTER XIII.

LETTER XIV.

LETTER XV.

LETTER XVI.

LETTER XVII.

LETTER XVIII.

LETTER XIX.

LETTER XX.

LETTER XXI.

LETTER XXII.

LETTER XXIII.

LETTER XXIV.

LETTER XXV.

LETTER XXVI.

LETTER XXVII.

LETTER XXVIII.

LETTER XXIX.

LETTER XXX.

LETTER XXXI.

LETTER XXXII.

LETTER XXXIII.

LETTER XXXIV.

LETTER XXXV.

LETTER XXXVI.

LETTER XXXVII.

LETTER XXXVIII.

LETTER XXXIX.

LETTER XL.

LETTER XLI.

LETTER XLII.

LETTER XLIII.

LETTER XLIV.

LETTER XLV.

LETTER XLVI.

LETTER XLVII.

LETTER XLVIII.

LETTER XLIX.

LETTER L.

LETTER LI.

LETTER LII.

MISSION TO SIENNA.

MISSION TO THE COURT OF ROME. October 24, 1503.

LETTER I.

LETTER II.

LETTER III.

LETTER IV.

LETTER V.

LETTER VI.

LETTER VII.

LETTER VIII.

LETTER IX.

LETTER X.

LETTER XI.

LETTER XII.

LETTER XIII.

LETTER XIV.

LETTER XV.

LETTER XVI.

LETTER XVII.

LETTER XVIII.

LETTER XIX.

LETTER XX.

LETTER XXI.

LETTER XXII.

LETTER XXIII.

LETTER XXIV.

LETTER XXV.

LETTER XXVI.

LETTER XXVII.

LETTER XXVIII.

LETTER XXIX.

LETTER XXX.

LETTER XXXI.

LETTER XXXII.

LETTER XXXIII.

LETTER XXXIV.

LETTER XXXV.

LETTER XXXVI.

LETTER XXXVII.

LETTER XXXVIII.

LETTER XXXIX.

LETTER XL.

LETTER XLI.

LETTER XLII.

LETTER XLIII.

LETTER XLIV.

LETTER XLV.

LETTER XLVI.

LETTER XLVII.

LETTER XLVIII.

LETTER XLIX.

SECOND MISSION TO THE COURT OF FRANCE.

LETTER I.

LETTER II.

LETTER III.

LETTER IV.

LETTER V.

LETTER VI.

LETTER VII.

LETTER VIII.

LETTER IX.

LETTER X.

LETTER XI.

LETTER XII.

LETTER XIII.

LETTER XIV.

LETTER XV.

MISSION TO GIANPAOLO BAGLIONI.

MISSION TO THE MARQUIS OF MANTUA, JOHN FRANCIS II. OF GONZAGA.

SECOND MISSION TO SIENNA.

LETTER I.

LETTER II.

LETTER III.

LETTER IV.

LETTER V.

LETTER VI.

LETTER VII.

SECOND MISSION TO THE ARMY BEFORE PISA.

SECOND MISSION TO THE COURT OF ROME.

LETTER I.

LETTER II.

LETTER III.

LETTER IV.

LETTER V.

LETTER VI.

LETTER VII.

LETTER VIII.

LETTER IX.

LETTER X.

LETTER XI.

LETTER XII.

LETTER XIII.

LETTER XIV.

LETTER XV.

LETTER XVI.

LETTER XVII.

LETTER XVIII.

LETTER XIX.

LETTER XX.

LETTER XXI.

LETTER XXII.

LETTER XXIII.

LETTER XXIV.

LETTER XXV.

LETTER XXVI.

LETTER XXVII.

LETTER XXVIII.

LETTER XXIX.

LETTER XXX.

LETTER XXXI.

LETTER XXXII.

LETTER XXXIII.

LETTER XXXIV.

LETTER XXXV.

LETTER XXXVI.

LETTER XXXVII.

LETTER XXXVIII.

LETTER XXXIX.

LETTER XL.

THIRD MISSION TO SIENNA.*

LETTER I.

LETTER II.

LETTER III.

MISSION TO THE EMPEROR OF GERMANY.*

LETTER I.

LETTER II.

LETTER III.*

LETTER IV.

LETTER V.

LETTER VI.

LETTER VII.

LETTER VIII.

LETTER IX.

LETTER X.

LETTER XI.

LETTER XII.

LETTER XIII.

LETTER XIV.

LETTER I. TO NICCOLO CAPPONI, COMMISSARY-GENERAL, ETC.

LETTER II.

COMMISSION TO NICCOLO MACHIAVELLI, RESOLVED UPON BY THE MAGISTRACY OF THE TEN ON THE 10th OF MARCH, 1509.*

LETTER III.

LETTER IV.

LETTER V.

LETTER VI.

LETTER VII.

LETTER VIII.

LETTER IX.

LETTER X.

LETTER XI.

LETTER XII.

LETTER XIII.

LETTER XIV.

LETTER XV.

LETTER XVI.

LETTER XVII.

LETTER XVIII.

LETTER XIX.

LETTER XX.

LETTER XXI.

LETTER XXII.

LETTER XXIII.

LETTER XXIV.

MISSION TO MANTUA ON BUSINESS WITH THE EMPEROR OF GERMANY.*

LETTER I.

LETTER II.

LETTER III.

LETTER IV.

LETTER V.

LETTER VI.

LETTER VII.

LETTER VIII.

LETTER IX.

LETTER X.

LETTER XI.

LETTER XII.

LETTER XIII.

THIRD MISSION TO THE COURT OF FRANCE.*

LETTER I.

LETTER II.

LETTER III.

LETTER IV.

LETTER V.

LETTER VI.

LETTER VII.

LETTER VIII.

LETTER IX.

LETTER X.

LETTER XI.

LETTER XII.

LETTER XIII.

LETTER XIV.

LETTER XV.

LETTER XVI.

LETTER XVII.

LETTER XVIII.

COMMISSION TO THE INTERIOR OF THE STATE.

PATENT. We, the Ten of Liberty and Balia of the Florentine Republic,

COMMISSION TO SIENNA.

MISSION TO THE LORD OF MONACO.

PATENT AND PASSPORT.

FOURTH MISSION TO THE COURT OF FRANCE.

LETTERS PATENT.

INSTRUCTIONS GIVEN TO NICCOLO MACHIAVELLI, SENT BY THE ILLUSTRIOUS TEN TO LOMBARDY AND FRANCE.

LETTER I.

LETTER II.

LETTER III.

LETTER IV.

COMMISSION TO PISA AT THE TIME OF THE COUNCIL.

THE TEN TO THE CARDINALS THAT WERE AT PISA. 2 November, 1511.

THE TEN TO THE SEIGNEUR DE LAUTREC. 2 November, 1511.

THE TEN TO NICCOLO MACHIAVELLI. 3 November, 1511.

COMMISSION FOR RAISING TROOPS.

LETTERS PATENT.

LETTER.

COMMISSIONS TO PISA AND OTHER PLACES WITHIN AND WITHOUT THE FLORENTINE DOMINION.

LETTER I.

LETTER II.

LETTER III.

LETTER IV.

LETTERS PATENT. We, the Ten of Liberty and Balia of the Florentine Republic, etc.,

LETTER V.

LETTER VI.

LETTER VII.

LETTER VIII.

LETTER IX.

LETTER X.

LETTER XI.

MISSION TO THE CHAPTER OF THE MINORITE BROTHERS AT CARPI.

INSTRUCTIONS OF THE EIGHT OF PRACTICE. Deliberated, the 11th of May, 1521.

OTHER INSTRUCTIONS BY FATHER HILARION.

To the most Reverend and most Illustrious Cardinale Giulio de’ Medici.

MISSION TO VENICE.

CREDENTIALS. SERENISSIMO PRINCIPI ET EXCELLENTISSIMO DOMINO ANDREÆ GRITTI, DEI GRATIA DUCI VENETIARUM PATR. OBSERV.

BRIEF INSTRUCTION TO YOU, NICCOLO MACHIAVELLI, AS TO WHAT YOU HAVE TO DO IN YOUR MISSION TO VENICE, BY OUR ORDER.

REPRESENTATIONS.

MISSION TO THE ARMY OF THE LEAGUE, ENGAGED IN THE SIEGE OF CREMONA.

INSTRUCTIONS GIVEN TO MICHIAVELLI BY FRANCESCO GUICCIARDINI, LIEUTENANT OF THE POPE AT THE ARMY OF THE LEAGUE.

MISSION TO FRANCESCO GUICCIARDINI.

INSTRUCTIONS TO NICCOLO MACHIAVELLI, SENT BY THE MAGISTRACY OF THE EIGHT OF PRACTICE TO MESSER FRANCESCO GUICCIARDINI, LIEUTENANT OF HIS HOLINESS THE POPE.

LETTER I.

LETTER II.

SECOND MISSION TO FRANCESCO GUICCIARDINI.

INSTRUCTIONS TO NICCOLO MACHIAVELLI, RESOLVED BY THE EIGHT OF PRACTICE, 3 FEBRUARY, 1527.

LETTER I.

LETTER II.

LETTER III.

LETTER IV.

LETTER V.

LETTER VI.

LETTER VII.

LETTER VIII.

LETTER IX.

LETTER X.

LETTER XI.

LETTER XII.

LETTER XIII.

LETTER XIV.

LETTER XV.

LETTER XVI.

LETTER XVII.

LETTER XVIII.

LETTER XIX.

LETTER XX.

LETTER XXI.

MISCELLANEOUS PAPERS.

DESCRIPTION OF THE MANNER IN WHICH THE DUKE VALENTINO PROCEEDED TO KILL VITELLOZZO VITELLI, OLIVEROTTO DA FERMO, AND THE SIGNOR PAGOLO AND THE DUKE GRAVINA ORSINI.

REPORT ON THE AFFAIRS OF GERMANY.

SECOND REPORT ON THE AFFAIRS OF GERMANY. Made 17 June, 1508.

DISCOURSE ON THE AFFAIRS OF GERMANY AND ON THE EMPEROR.

AN ACCOUNT OF THE AFFAIRS OF FRANCE.

OF THE NATURE OF THE FRENCH.

CONFIDENTIAL INSTRUCTIONS

MISSIONS.

MISSION TO THE LORD OF PIOMBINO.

Niccolo Machiavelli

November 20, 1498

LETTER OF THE MAGISTRACY OF THE TEN TO THE LORD OF PIOMBINO.

November 20, 1498.

The entire faith and the very high estimation in which we hold your illustrious Lordship, induce us confidently to ask you to consent to do what our commissioners will ask of you, namely: — Having to withdraw our Captain-General with his troops from the neighborhood of Pisa, for the purpose of sending him to Arezzo, and desiring to replace these troops by others, and in the absence of our general to have a chief capable of properly commanding them, and not knowing to whom we could better confide this responsibility, we have concluded to commit it to your charge, feeling assured that the affection which you bear us will induce you to accept it  willingly, and that you will with the utmost possible promptitude proceed with your troops to the Pisan territory. And we feel convinced that, when you are once on the spot with your troops, our interests there will be fully protected.

And so that you may have some one to guide you there, we send you our most valued citizen, Niccolo Machiavelli, to accompany and guide you by the most convenient route. And we beg you most earnestly to comply with our request and expectations with your accustomed promptitude and prudence, feeling assured that you will do so cheerfully, as the charge which we ask you to accept is a most honorable one, etc., etc.

MISSION OF MACHIAVELLI TO THE SAME.

INSTRUCTIONS.

You will proceed to Pontedera, where you will present yourself to the illustrious Lord of Piombino; and after having presented our letters of credence, you will explain to him that you have been sent by us because we had been informed by his chancellor, who is here, and through our ambassadors at Milan, that it is his Lordship’s desire to receive from us, besides the sum stipulated in the contract for his engagement, the additional sum of five thousand ducats; alleging that this was promised him, and that it would be no more than proper inasmuch as his lordship is in no way inferior to the Count Rinuccio. In relation to which demand we have judged that you could better explain by your personal presence what we have to say on the subject; which in fact amounts to this, that we are sincerely desirous of satisfying his Lordship generally in every respect, because of the good faith and affection which he has manifested towards our republic, and which we appreciate highly. You will enlarge upon this in the most effective manner, so as to show our favorable disposition towards his Lordship, but you will do it in vague and general terms, so as not to commit us to any positive obligation whatever.

As regards this demand for an increase of compensation, you will say that, so soon as we received notice of it, we examined the register of our military engagements, where we found in  the second chapter that his Lordship had agreed with his Excellency the Duke of Milan and our magistracy that his compensation for the engagement was to be 2,400 ducats, and as much more as our magistracy might deem proper. And that upon this point we beg his Lordship to content himself with what at one time had been satisfactory to him. And although this matter was left to our discretion yet we trust that his Lordship will take into consideration the circumstances in which we find ourselves, but that he may count upon our good will; and that he will excuse us on account of the many considerations which we are obliged to have in this matter. And thus you will offer to his Lordship for another time all that is due to his valor and good conduct, and to the love we bear him; keeping however in your language always within the limits of friendly expressions, from which he may know our good feelings towards him and may hope to realize them. But above all you must have patience if he should threaten a rupture, and let him run on, and then reply and use your best efforts to induce him also to have patience.

It may also happen that his Lordship will claim from you the additional forty men-at-arms provided for in the third clause of his engagement. To which you will reply that, as his engagement was in common between us and his Excellency the Duke of Milan, it would not seem proper for us to make any alterations or additions to it without the concurrence of his Excellency, because of his interest in the matter. But that we will write to Milan about it and await a reply, which we doubt not will be in accordance with his Lordship’s desire. And so far as we are concerned in this matter you will assure his Lordship that we shall strive in every way to meet his wishes; and you will excuse this delay on account of the necessity above stated of having the concurrence of the Duke of Milan, because of his interest in the matter.

With these considerations you will carry out the first and second part of your commission; and you will do so in such manner as at the moment may seem most suitable to you.

Decemviri Libertates et Ballæ
Rep. Flor.

Ex Palatio Florentino,

24 March, 1499

MISSION TO THE COUNTESS CATHARINE SFORZA.

INSTRUCTIONS GIVEN TO NICCOLO MACHIAVELLI ON BEING SENT TO FURLI, TO THEIR EXCELLENCIES THE COUNTESS SFORZA AND HER ELDEST SON, SIGNOR OTTAVIANO.

Resolved on, 12 July, 1499.

You will proceed to Furli and present yourself to the illustrious Lady Catharine and to his Excellency the Signor Ottaviano, her eldest son, and after having offered your homage to them, and presented our letters of credence, with which you will be furnished, to both of them jointly and to each separately, you  will state the object of your mission; which you will explain has been resolved upon in consequence of their agent’s having asked of us a renewal for this year of the Signor Ottaviano’s engagement. Upon this subject you will point out to them  that we do not consider ourselves bound to do so, having at the proper time, through our commissioner, Andrea de’ Pazzi, made their Excellencies understand the reasons which we believed would readily justify our refusal.

You will also recall the fact, that when, on the last day of January, our commissioner urged the Signor Ottaviano to give his consent to such a renewal, his Excellency replied, “Non teneri, nec obligatum esse, cum pro parte Magistratus Decemvirorum, etc., non fuerint sibi servata capitula conductæ suæ.” This refusal on his part was formally drawn up by a certain Ser Spinucci of Furli; and was moreover confirmed on the same day by letters from the said Signor Ottaviano, and by several letters from Andrea de’ Pazzi, in which he wrote in behalf of the illustrious Lady Catharine that she would on no account give her consent to such an engagement. Whence we concluded that his Excellency was under no obligations to us, nor we to him; it seeming to us that the efforts we had made, and the written replies thereto, were sufficient evidence that their Excellencies would on no account accept a renewal of the engagement. Added to this is the fact that our ambassadors at Milan had written several times that her Excellency the Countess had written to that most illustrious prince, in reply to his letters in which he advised her to accept the engagement, that she would under no consideration give her consent; alleging that she was badly compensated, etc., and that she hoped, in the event of her obtaining more favorable conditions elsewhere, his Excellency would not deprive her of that advantage.

All these circumstances constrain us to think that both by words and by acts their Excellencies will not continue their engagement any longer. And moreover, that, even if all these reasons did not exist, the fact that his Excellency did not accept within four months the conditions which we offered makes it impossible for us now, after a lapse of so much time, to come back to the terms of an engagement which has absolutely expired. In this wise you will clearly justify our course, so that his Excellency may understand that we have acted with good reason in this matter, as the above argument will show. And you will immediately add that, notwithstanding all this, we have an earnest desire to meet the wishes of his Excellency, and to satisfy him as far as we possibly can at this time; and  with the view to showing him our gratitude for all he has done for our republic, we have determined to accord to their Excellencies such an engagement at the expiration of the present term. But owing to the present state of things, and the great number of men-at-arms which we have still in our service, we desire that such an engagement should be on a peace footing, and for one year, at a compensation of ten thousand ducats. And we think that such an engagement ought to satisfy his Excellency, if not by its importance, at least by its stability, for in this way it may last longer than if we maintained it at the same rate of compensation and the same number of men-at-arms as heretofore. And moreover we believe that, in accepting our proposition, his Excellency will be influenced less by a desire to advance his own interests than to gratify our republic, and by the wish to secure our affection more and more by adding to his past services this new proof of his liberality.

You will also point out to his Excellency, that, if such an engagement is not altogether in accordance with his wishes, yet it will not be without dignity nor without the prospect of improvement, when once our republic shall have recovered all her territory and is restored to her proper state and power. And should his Excellency refer to the increase of compensation conceded by us to some of our other Condottieri, you will have ample reasons for explaining to him that the circumstances at the time demanded this, assuring him at the same time that, if we had to do so now, it would not be on so large a scale, nor should we have the same considerations for these Condottieri now as we were obliged to have at the time, when our affairs were in the condition in which they were then. And should reference be made by his Excellency to the loss of rations, you will in reply observe that two months of such an engagement have already expired, which is clear gain to his Excellency, and that we could easily compensate him for such loss.

Upon these several points you will enlarge in the most effective language and in the best terms that may suggest themselves to you; so as to convince his Excellency of our sincere desire for an opportunity to benefit him, and to acknowledge the services which he has rendered to our republic, as also of our entire confidence in him. At the same time, you will point out the necessity of the union of our states, employing  the most acceptable language in your endeavor to persuade him to that effect.

You will not omit to write to us promptly an account of your proceedings, so that we may reply at once and remove any difficulties that may arise. And you must shape your proceedings so that his Excellency will not take it amiss if we do not at all times meet our payments at the moment they are due. For this purpose you will explain to him, that we propose to make this engagement with him from no necessity of our own, but merely to gratify his desire; and that, weighed down as we are with such heavy charges, we may find ourselves obliged occasionally to defer our payments, in respect to which you will make our excuses in such terms as will be acceptable to his Excellency.

CREDENZIALE. Illustribus et Excellentib. D. D. Catharinæ Sfortiæ, Vicecomiti, etc., et D. Octaviano de Riario, Imolæ Furliviique D. D. et amicis clarissimis.

Illustres et excellentes Domini, amici clarissimi. Mittimus ad excellentias vestras Nicolaum Machiavellum, civem et secretarium nostrum, qui, ut illi mandavimus, coram multa exponet, in quibus habere illi certissimam optamus fidem, non secus ac nobis loquentibus. Bene valete.

Ex Palatio nostro die

12 Julii 1499

Priores Libertatis et Vexillifer Justitiæ } Pop. Flor.

Marcellus.

Niccolo Machiavelli

16 July, 1499

Castrocaro

Catharine Sforza

LETTER I.

Magnificent and Illustrious Signori, etc., etc. —

I arrived here yesterday evening about the twenty-second hour, and reported myself immediately to his Magnificence the Captain-General, and communicated to him your Lordships’ wishes in relation to the powder, balls, and saltpetre. He replied that all the iron balls here, both large and small, had been  sent last year to be employed in the siege of Vico; and that the powder that had been left here by the French, amounting only to about fifteen or twenty pounds, had been destroyed two years ago, having been set on fire by a stroke of lightning, and that the explosion had shattered that part of the citadel where the powder had been stored. I then sent for Farragano to obtain information respecting the saltpetre, in accordance with the instructions given me by your Lordships’ purveyor. He told me that he had only one hundred pounds, but that he had a friend in the country who had about six hundred pounds of powder; and although this is but a small quantity, yet I send it to your Lordships by the bearer of this, so that this trip shall not have been entirely in vain; and I beg that you will have him paid promptly at the rate of forty florins per one thousand pounds, which I have promised him. Upon weighing this powder we found it to be five hundred and eighty-seven pounds; the teamster who brings it to you is called Tommaso di Mazolo, to whom you will please pay the value of the powder according to my promise to him; I have paid him for carrying it to you the sum of eight florins and three soldi.

In regard to what has passed between Ser Guerrino del Bello and our commander touching the attempt of the latter to arrest Marchione Golferelli, as well as the other occurrences here, I have learned the following from persons of different conditions, so that I believe it to be true; namely, that your Lordships’ predecessors having written to the commander here that they had some apprehensions lest Dionigio Naldi should enter the place during the night for the purpose of doing some mischief to the Corbizo family, and that a certain Marchione Golferelli was to aid him in this, the commander resolved to lay his hands upon this Marchione; but having been brought by the sergeants almost within the palace courtyard, he was rescued by two of his relatives, who carried him away with them to Furli. And as they believed that this attempted arrest of Marchione’s had been suggested by the Corbizzo family, they cancelled the truce that had for years subsisted between the two families.

Respecting this matter of Ser Guerrino, I called on his father, Bello, who does not attempt to excuse the disobedience of his son, but complains of the inhumanity of the captain in requiring him to send away out of his house in the night four of his friends and relatives. For he believed that his loyalty was so  well known that no one could have a doubt upon that point; and that at the time when the enemy was all around them he had received at different times thirty of his friends in his house, and had never been blamed, but rather commended for it by the commissioner, and therefore he recommended himself and his son to your Lordships. This Bello, according to what I learn from the chief priest Farragano, and from a number of other inhabitants of this place, is a worthy and peaceful man, who has never openly taken sides with either party, but has always been rather a peace-maker than a fomenter of troubles. Taking now a general view of things in this country, it seems to me that the people are very united, and that there is no open enmity between any of its inhabitants.

Since the death of Corbizzo some little jealousy appears to have sprung up amongst them, as each desires to exercise the same influence which he had; but unless this feeling is purposely stimulated by some one, it is not likely to produce any bad results. The only thing is a very strong feeling of apprehension lest this Dionigio Naldi, with the aid of the Lady Catharine, should do them some mischief. For although this lady is on terms of friendship with your Lordships, yet they cannot rely upon nor trust her, and thus the inhabitants of the place as well as the country are kept in a constant state of anxiety. It was only yesterday that some fifteen or twenty crossbowmen of the Lady Catharine’s went to a place about a mile from here, called Salutare, belonging to your Lordships, and wounded three men and carried one away with them after having robbed his house. Similar outrages are committed every day, and it was only yesterday that a number of country people complained to me, saying, “Our lords have abandoned us; they have too many other things on their hands.” Your Lordships will doubtless, with your great prudence, take such measuresin this matter as the honor of our republic demands, and as will give satisfaction to these your most faithful subjects.

There is nothing else of interest to communicate. I shall leave immediately for Furli to execute the commission given me by your Lordships, to whom I commend myself most humbly. Quæ feliciter valeant.

Minimus servitor,

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Castrocaro,

16 July, 1499

Niccolo Machiavelli

17 July, 1499

Furli

Catharine Sforza

LETTER II.

Magnificent Signori: —

I wrote to your Lordships yesterday morning from Castrocaro, reporting what I had done in relation to the balls, powder, and saltpetre, and the condition of things generally there. I went afterwards on the same day, at an early hour, to Furli; but finding the illustrious Lady Catharine occupied with some of her own affairs, I did not obtain an audience until about the twenty-second hour. No one was present but her Ladyship and Messer Giovanni da Casale, the Duke of Milan’s Chargé d’Affaires here. Her Ladyship’s son Ottaviano had gone on a pleasure trip to Furlimpiccolo.

After having presented myself to her Excellency, I explained to her your Lordships’ commission, employing the most suitable expressions to convince her in the first instance of your Lordships’ earnest desire that the time might come when you could show effectually how highly you valued those who had loyally served our republic, and who, regardless of everything else, had shared her varying fortunes, as her Excellency had ever done. And that if the refusal to accept her services now seemed contrary to these assurances, and if we had contested with her agents our being bound and held by an annual engagement, her Ladyship might be assured upon this point, as was proved by the several letters of your Lordships which showed that the reason of it was the impossibility of providing the means, because of the heavy charges to which our republic was already subjected. And as to our efforts to explain that we were not bound to a renewed engagement, I pointed out to her Ladyship that it had never been your intention to refuse to do anything that might be agreeable to her, and that the only reason why your Lordships wished to explain that you were not bound was to make her Excellency understand that nothing, not even the necessity of the evil times, induced you to offer her a renewal of the engagement, but that you do it solely from the affection you have for her, because of her great merits. And that for this reason you had sent me to her Excellency to make known to her that, although your Lordships were not bound, yet in recognition of the valuable services which she had rendered to our republic you were willing to accord an  engagement to her son; but that, on account of the number of men-at-arms which you had already in your service, you wished such an engagement to be on a peace footing, and the compensation for this year not to exceed ten thousand ducats.

Nor did I fail to demonstrate to her Excellency, with the best arguments that suggested themselves to me, that such an engagement ought to be satisfactory to her; saying that her acceptance of it would be an addition to her many other merits, and that time would prove that she had not served an ungrateful Signoria; and that she would never have occasion to repent having added this to her other services to our republic.Her Excellency replied that your Lordships’ words had always been satisfactory to her, but that your actions had not always pleased her, and that she had never received compensation commensurate with the value of her services. Nevertheless, knowing that gratitude was one of the characteristics of your illustrious republic, she could not believe that you would now begin to show yourselves ungrateful to one who had for a great while back done more for you than perhaps any of your other allies, by exposing her dominions, without any obligations on her part, to the rapacity of the Venetians, her most powerful neighbors. And that therefore she was willing to abide by the hopes which your Lordships held out to her. Nor would she dispute whether your Lordships were bound or not to renew the engagement, but she desired time for replying to the propositions made to her, inasmuch as it seemed but reasonable to her not to decide at a moment’s notice a matter which you had with so much prudence discussed and consulted about for some time. And having replied to this in becoming terms, I begged her Excellency to hasten her decision, and took my leave.

Later in the day, at about the sixteenth hour, Messer Antonio Baldraccani, first secretary of her Excellency the Countess, came to see me, and told me that the illustrious Duke of Milan had written some five or six days ago to her Excellency, asking her to send him for his own use fifty men-at-arms and fifty mounted crossbowmen. That her Excellency had written on Sunday last to your Lordships on the subject, but had as yet received no reply. And he added that on that very day a letter had been received by her Excellency from the aforesaid Duke of Milan, begging her that, inasmuch as she had not come to terms with the Florentine Signoria about a renewal  of her engagement for the year, she ought to enter his service on the same terms and conditions as she had last year from your Lordships. The aforesaid secretary also told me that letters had been received the evening before from the curate of Cascina, saying that eight deputies, members of the Council of Eighty, had given him to understand that they wanted to re-engage the Signor Ottaviano on two conditions. The first was the same which I had already explained to her Excellency; and the second was that she should consent to pledge her state, which the said curate demonstrated to the deputies that her Excellency could never agree to. Moreover the said secretary stated that her Excellency was in doubt what course to take, and therefore could not give a prompt reply. The reason of this was that it seemed disgraceful for her and her son to accept the conditions offered by your Lordships, because others, who had not rendered you the same services as herself, had their compensation increased, whilst that of herself and her son was diminished; and she could not believe that your Lordships made so little account of her as never to give her anything but fair words. And in fact she did not know how to excuse herself to the Duke of Milan if she accepted the conditions offered by you, which were so little creditable, and refused his, which were in the highest degree honorable. At the same time it seemed to her that she was under obligations to the Duke of Milan both by blood as well as by the numberless benefits she had received from that prince; and for that reason she was at a loss, and could not decide so promptly upon a reply, but wanted me to write to your Lordships, so that you might in the mean time write back what you thought of the matter.

In answer to the first part, touching the demand by the Duke of Milan for men, and the other propositions, I said, that as your Lordships had received no notice of this before my departure, you could not have given me any instructions on the subject, and therefore I could do nothing but write to your Lordships and await your reply. Respecting what the curate of Cascina had written about pledging her state, etc., I could also say nothing, but wondered much that, if this matter had been decided upon before my departure, no instructions were given me about it, or that I was not afterwards written to on the subject; and therefore I had also nothing to say on this point,  but would write the same as in relation to the other matter. To this Messer Baldraccani replied that this latter point was of no importance, for if we were agreed about the other matters this would present no difficulties whatsoever; for her Excellency did not care to give any written obligation upon this point, but that she intended to fulfil her promises without any writings, the same as she had done in the last year. In my reply to this I observed, with regard to the embarrassment in which her Excellency found herself in deeming it discreditable for her to have the terms of her engagement reduced, whilst those of others were increased, as also in reference to the considerations which he thought she ought to have for the Duke of Milan, and the offers made by him, etc., etc., that if her Excellency would carefully weigh the reasons that obliged your Lordships to increase the pay of your other Condottieri who are carrying on the war for our republic, and those which influence them now to offer to re-engage her Excellency, she would find that her acceptance of the proffered engagement, so far from being discreditable, as she alleged, would be in the highest degree honorable. For whilst your Lordships were constrained to the former by the exigencies of the times, you were prompted to the latter by nothing else than the regard and affection which you had for her Excellency, and therefore your propositions to her were the more honorable and worthy of acceptance, as they were entirely voluntary. Moreover, his Excellency the Duke of Milan could not and should not complain if her Ladyship declined his propositions, although somewhat more advantageous, and accepted those of your Lordships, which for the moment seem less brilliant; first because of the friendly relations existing between his Excellency and our republic, which should make him look upon every advantage to your Lordships as for the common benefit; and secondly because in a certain measure the Signor Ottaviano was still in our pay, and the terms offered him now were in no wise in contradiction with his engagement of last year.

After having thus replied to each other, as the subject required, the secretary reiterated the conclusion that the Countess Catharine could not decide so promptly, and therefore it would be well that I should inform your Lordships of all that had been said and done; and that he would in the same way communicate all that I had said to her Excellency the Countess,  although I had the privilege of communicating at all times personally with her Excellency. And on leaving me he said that he had forgotten to tell me on the part of the Countess that she desired much to know what compensation your Lordships intended to give her for former services; and that I should, on her part, beg you to send some reply upon these points. For if you came to some favorable conclusion upon that matter, she would regard it as an evidence of your disposition, and could then with greater confidence and security enter your service.

Having been here but so short a time, I shall not presume to say much of the state of things here; but according to what those Florentines who are near the Countess tell me, her Excellency could not be better disposed towards our republic than what she is. There is here a certain Messer Giovanni da Casale, Chargé d’Affaires of the Duke of Milan, of whose character and condition I shall not attempt to say anything, as he was last winter with the ducal troops in the Casentino. It will be enough for you to know that since he is here, which is now two months, he seems to rule everything.

Valeant Dominationes vestræ.

Furli,

17 July, 1499

P. S. — Yesterday I demanded of her Excellency on the part of your Lordships the balls and saltpetre, under the conditions prescribed by you. Her Excellency replied that she had neither, and was herself greatly in need of them.

Iterum valeant E. E. N. V.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Niccolo Machiavelli

18 July, 1499

Furli

Leonardo Strozzi

LETTER III.

Magnificent Signori: —

I wrote to your Lordships yesterday at length, by the courier Ardingo, what I had done in execution of the commission intrusted to me, and await your reply with impatience. This morning I received through Tommaso Totti, a letter from your Lordships urging me in relation to the powder and saltpetre which I was to obtain at Castrocaro. Having reported fully on  this subject on the 16th instant, I shall not enlarge upon it any further; but as your Lordships had charged me also to ask her Excellency for powder and men, I presented myself immediately before her and communicated again to her Ladyship your wishes and the pleasure which her compliance with your request would give you. She replied that she had no saltpetre at all, and but little powder; but that by way of not failing to do what was possible she would be glad to give you ten thousand out of the twenty thousand pounds of saltpetre which Leonardo Strozzi had purchased for her account at Pesaro, and she charged Risorbolo to write to the said Leonardo what she wished done in the matter. I spared no efforts to dispose her Excellency favorably to your requests, but could obtain nothing more from her. Your Lordships will therefore have to see Leonardo Strozzi, and can arrange with him so that you may send your teams at once to Pesaro to bring the saltpetre away. Or if you prefer, you can write and send me an order from Leonardo to have the saltpetre delivered to my order; and I will arrange to have it transported to Castrocaro, where your Lordships’ teamsters can come and take it. This was the course adopted last year, as is well known to your minister, Guaspare Pasgni.

Respecting the troops, her Excellency told me that she was quite willing to permit her subjects to engage in your Lordships’ service, but that it was notpossible to make them march without money. Your Lordships must, therefore, send means to raise the troops, whilst her Excellency will endeavor to send you only picked men, well armed and loyal, and will expedite them promptly. If, therefore, your Lordships are in want of troops, you must at once send five hundred ducats, so that one may be given to each man; and I believe that within two weeks from now they would be on Pisan territory, but not sooner. Your Lordships will decide what arrangement will suit you best, and advise me accordingly, and I shall execute your commands with the utmost diligence.

When I communicated your Lordship’s letters to the illustrious Countess this morning, and before I had time to add a word, she said: “I have good news this morning, for I see that your Signoria are going to make earnest of it; they are collecting troops, for which I commend them, and am the more pleased at it as I was before dissatisfied by their tardiness, and the seemingly irreparable loss of time.” I thanked her Excellency  most sincerely, and then assured her that this tardiness had been caused altogether by necessity. Her Excellency readily admitted this, adding that she wished that her states were so situated that she could stir up all her troops and subjects in your favor, as that would show to the whole world that in espousing your cause she had been influenced solely by her affection for and entire faith in your Lordships. But she desired some acknowledgment for this, and that she should not be wounded in her honor, which she prized above all else. This she thought would be becoming in your Lordships, not so much on her own account as for the example which you would thereby give to your other adherents of your not being ungrateful for services received. I replied to the best of my ability, but could not help observing that mere words and arguments will not go far in satisfying her Excellency, unless supported, in part at least, by acts. And I truly believe that if your Lordships were to make some acknowledgment to the Countess for past services, or increase the compensation under the new engagement, you will be sure to preserve her Ladyship’s friendship. For she could not be better disposed towards our republic than what she is, of which I have every day the most striking indications. It has seemed to me proper to write all these particulars so that your Lordships may the better judge what I wrote you yesterday.

Quæ feliciter valeant.

Humilis servitor,

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Furli,

18 July, 1499

P. S. — Enclosed is the letter which her Excellency had written to Leonardo Strozzi about the saltpetre.

P. S. — One of the secretaries of the Countess has been to see me, and informed me on the part of her Excellency that two kinds of troops may be raised in her dominions. The one is a corps of fifteen hundred men, which she has armed for her own service as may be needed. Of these she cannot send any to your Lordships, unless they are paid a whole month in advance. Her Excellency would pay them herself, or hold herself responsible for such as do not serve the full time of a month. She wants eighteen lire per man; so if your Lordships want any of them you will have to send fifteen hundred ducats for five hundred men, which her Excellency  promises shall be good men and well armed, and shall be sent at once. The other kind of troops are such as are in the habit of engaging with any one for pay, but are not enrolled by her Excellency. Of these the Countess leaves you to hire at your pleasure, and at such rates of pay as you can agree with them for. Your Lordships will in your high wisdom take such as you may deem most suited for your purpose. I am ready with all diligence to execute whatever commission your Lordships may charge me with.

Iterum valeant, die qua in literis.

Niccolo Machiavelli

22 July, 1499

Furli

Catharine Sforza

LETTER IV.

Magnificent Signori: —

I wrote to your Lordships on the 17th by the courier Ardingo, that the illustrious Lady Catharinewas in doubt as to what course to take; for on the one hand your Lordships wanted to reduce the conditions of the new engagement, and on the otherthe Duke of Milan offered her the same terms as under the former engagement; and that her Excellency therefore wanted me to write to your Lordships, so that you might understand the whole case, and might show more consideration for her honor, and satisfy her in proportion to the services she had rendered, etc., etc. She awaits your reply with eagerness, and as it has not yet been received, it seemed to me well to send the bearer of this, and to beg your Lordships to reply promptly, unless you have already done so, and let me know your final decision; so that, whether I conclude an arrangement with her Excellency or not, I may return to your Lordships’ feet.

I believe the way to content her Excellency would be first to assure her that she will be compensated for her former services, upon which point she has been greatly dissatisfied, and then to increase the pay for this year to twelve thousand florins. This at least is my opinion, in which however I may be mistaken; for her Excellency has always stood much upon her honor, and has never intimated to me that she would accept any less than what the Duke of Milan has offered her; and it is difficult to judge by her disposition whether she is more favorably inclined to the Duke of Milan or to your republic. For, to begin with, I see  her court filled with Florentines, of whom it may be said that they almost entirely control her government; and then I see her naturally well inclined towards our city, and manifest the most earnest desire to have the love of our citizens, for which there are the most palpable reasons, for having a son by Giovanni de’ Medici, she hopes to have the usufruct of his possessions, and expects every day to assume his guardianship. And finally, what is most important, she sees the Duke of Milan attacked by the king of France, and does not know what security there would be for her to attach herself to him under these circumstances, all of which her Excellency knows very well.

These are the considerations upon which I found the opinion that she will accept our conditions, even though they be not liberal. On the other hand, I see near her Excellency the Duke of Milan’s agent Messer Giovanni da Casale, who is very highly esteemed, and seems to rule everything here. This is of great importance, and may easily sway the undecided mind of the Countess to whatever side he pleases.

In fact, were it not for the influence of this fear of the king of France, I should be inclined to believe that even on equal terms she would leave us, particularly as she supposes that she would not thereby forfeit your Lordships’ friendship because of your amicable relations with the Duke of Milan.

I have thought it proper to make this statement to your Lordships, so that you may know what impediments present themselves here to my success, and so that you may come to some positive decision, if you have not already done so. Her Excellency awaits your reply impatiently, for she is every day tormented by the Duke.

There was a review here yesterday of five hundred infantry, whom her Excellency sends to the Duke of Milan under command of Dionigio Naldi. A couple of days ago there was also a muster of fifty mounted crossbowmen, equally destined for Milan. These will leave here within the next few days with one of the Duke’s secretaries, who came here to enlist and pay them. I am under the impression that your Lordships have changed your mind respecting the infantry which you wanted to obtain from the Countess; which seems to me the wiser course, as you have been able to obtain them from elsewhere more conveniently. Should your Lordships, however, still be in want of them, then you can have good and faithful troops from here,  well disciplined and ready to start immediately. In that case, however, it will be necessary to send the money for a month’s pay, as I have already stated in my last letter to your Lordships, to whom I recommend myself ever so much.

Humilis servitor,

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Furli,

22 July, 1499

Niccolo Machiavelli

23 July, 1499

Furli

Catharine Sforza

LETTER V.

Magnificent Signori: —

I wrote yesterday that I had despatched an express to your Lordships, as a reply to my letter of the 17th seemed to me to be unduly delayed. Since then your Lordships’ courier Ardingo arrived, bringing me your letters of the 19th and 20th instant. So soon as I had perused their contents, I presented myself before her Excellency, and communicated to her in the most becoming terms what your Lordships have charged me with touching the propositions made to her Excellency by the Duke of Milan. After that, I stated to her the offers made by your Lordships, and endeavored to make her understand that you would certainly never fail to do all that might inure to the honor, safety, and advantage of her Excellency, employing such arguments as I thought necessary and proper to persuade her, etc. To which her Excellency replied that all her hopes were in your Lordships; and that the only thing that caused her pain in this whole matter was the dishonor which she feared she would incur, and the respect which she felt she ought to observe towards her uncle. But that, knowing now the final resolves of your Lordships, she would endeavor to come to a prompt decision, and remove, so far as in her power, all difficulties that might interpose. After having replied in a becoming manner, and referred to your Lordships’ letter of the 19th, in relation to the outrage committed upon some of your subjects, I begged her Ladyship to come to a speedy decision, and took my leave.

Later in the day, Messer Baldraccani called to see me, and, after having made excuses for her Excellency’s not having personally informed me of her intentions, alleging that it was owing to her being indisposed, and most unhappy on account of  the serious illness of her son Lodovico, by Giovanni de’ Medici, he communicated to me, on behalf of her Excellency, that she did not regret having, regardless of all else, thrown herself into your Lordships’ arms, in whom she placed all confidence and hope. That she consented to accept the engagement on a peace footing for one year, on the basis of your Lordships’ last offer of twelve thousand ducats. But for the sake of being able more completely to justify her taking this step before the whole world, and with the more honor and credit to her government, her Excellency desired that your Lordships would bind yourselves to defend, protect, and maintain the integrity of her dominions, which she was fully assured your Lordships would do anyhow, without any special obligation to that effect. Yet that she greatly desired such an obligation from your Lordships, which she knew you would not refuse her, as it would be in the highest degree honorable for her, and in no way prejudicial to your Lordships. And, lastly, Messer Baldraccani said that her Excellency desired to have a settlement, if not in full, then at least in part, for her former services; that she needs it for her many wants and urgent necessities, and that she cannot believe that the charges which you have to provide for are so heavy as to be an obstacle to such a settlement; and therefore she charged me most emphatically to write to your Lordships, and urge this matter on her behalf.

As to the first point, namely, the acceptance of an engagement for a year, etc., I replied in the most amicable manner, saying that I felt sure that the good opinion which her Excellency had of our republic would even increase with time and experience. But as to the obligation which her Ladyship asked for, I regarded it as superfluous for the very reasons alleged by her Excellency herself. And as I had no authority to conclude anything not comprised in my commission, her Excellency might for the present accept the engagement, and afterwards write to her agent at Florence to present her demands, which I believed would be favorably received.

Messer Antonio replied that her Excellency wished to close the entire business at one and the same time, and that therefore she had requested that I should write to your Lordships to send me the necessary powers, promising at the same time to ratify any agreement that might be made by me in your name. All the arguments I could present to the contrary could  not induce her to alter her decision; and I am therefore obliged to submit to you the demands made by her Excellency as they have been presented to me; so that your Lordships may in your supreme wisdom decide, and promptly advise me of, your ultimate resolve, and so that I may be enabled to return to Florence, which is my most earnest desire.

Respecting the indemnity for former services, I observed that her Excellency had spoken to me some days ago about it, and that I had written to your Lordships on the subject, and that you had replied; and therefore it seemed to me superfluous to repeat the same thing over again, particularly as I knew your favorable disposition, as well as the difficulties which prevent you from doing anything in the matter now. Nevertheless, by way of satisfying her Excellency, I would write once more very urgently on the subject.

Yesterday, when I complained to the Countess on behalf of your Lordships of the outrage committed by some of her archers upon your people at Salutare, she made me the most strenuous excuses, saying that she had directed her men to go and gather the harvest of a certain Carlo Buosi, who cultivated a farm on her territory; that this Carlo had been killed not long since by Dionigio Naldi to revenge the Signor Ottaviano; and that when the country people saw her archers carry off the harvest, they had shouted to them that they would be cut to pieces, and otherwise overwhelmed them with insulting words, so that the archers felt themselves as it were constrained to resent this abuse. Her Excellency added, that she was nevertheless grieved at heart about it, and as proof of it she had at once ordered the leader of her archers, who had begun the disturbance, to be disarmed and dismissed from her service; and this has been done.

I recommend myself most humbly to your Lordships.

Quæ bene valeant.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Furli,

23 July, 1499

P. S. — The fifty mounted crossbowmen which the Duke had taken into his pay leave to-morrow for Milan.

Niccolo Machiavelli

23 July, 1499

Furli

Catharine Sforza

LETTER VI.

Magnificent Signori: —

Yesterday I received by your Lordships’ courier Ardingo your two letters of the 19th and 20th, and hope to-morrow to close the engagement with the illustrious Lady Catharine, in accordance with your latest instructions; and after that I expect also to arrange the business of your subjects at Salutare in a manner entirely satisfactory to your Lordships. I cannot enlarge upon these matters now, as the messenger is in the greatest haste to depart. I will only add, that, so soon as these matters are settled, I shall return to your Lordships, to whom I recommend myself most humbly.

Humilis servitor,

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Furli,

23 July, 1499

Niccolo Machiavelli

24 July, 1499

Furli

Catharine Sforza

LETTER VII.

Magnificent Signori: —

I had written the enclosed yesterday, and was just about to despatch the bearer of this, Ardingo, when Messer Giovanni da Casale came to see me, and told me on the part of her Excellency that I need not write, as her Excellency the Countess was satisfied not to ask any further obligations from your Lordships, feeling perfectly assured that you would not act differently in your dealings with her than what she would have done towards your Lordships; and requesting me to come to her Excellency this morning for the purpose of signing the engagement, etc.

Fully persuaded that the business would actually be closed, and the curate of Casina being about to despatch an express to Lorenzo di Pier Francesco, I availed myself of that opportunity to write to your Lordships expressing my belief that the matter was as good as concluded. This morning, then, fully persuaded that everything would be closed according to the understanding, and being with Messer Giovanni in presence of her Excellency, she said to me that she had  reflected upon the matter during the night, and thought that it would be more for her honor in attaching herself to your Lordships, if you were to declare that you would obligate yourselves to defend her dominions, as her secretary had previously explained to me. She had therefore resolved again to ask me to write to your Lordships about it. Her Excellency added, that, if she had given me to understand differently through Messer Giovanni, I must not be astonished at it, for the more matters of that kind were examined, the better were they understood. I could not but feel disappointed at this sudden change, and manifested my feelings both by words and gestures, saying that your Lordships would also be greatly surprised, as I had written you that her Excellency was satisfied upon every point without exception. But as I could get nothing else from her Excellency, I feel constrained to send you the enclosed, and to inform you specially by this of what has taken place, so that your Lordships may judge of it, and promptly decide what is to be done.

To-morrow I purpose going to Castrocaro, to see if I can secure the Corbizzos against Dionigio Naldi and his partisans; her Excellency, the Lady Catharine, has offered to do her best to aid me in this matter. Whatever the result may be, I will advise your Lordships, to whom I humbly recommend myself. Quæ bene valeant.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Furli,

24 July, 1499

COMMISSION TO THE ARMY IN THE FIELD AGAINST THE PISANS.

Lucas Antonio degli Albizzi

July 8, 1500

Florence

LETTER I. FROM LUCA DEGLI ALBIZZI TO THE SIGNORIA OF FLORENCE.

Magnificent and Illustrious Signori: —

We are now at the fourteenth hour, and have as yet no further news from the Gascons, as M. Samper has not returned from there, although we expect him at every moment. Everything remains in confusion and uncertainty, and things augur badly for us, for at every moment we hear of some fresh attempt  or outrage against us; and no sooner is one disposed of than four others occur, — enough to convince any one that they are endless. Moreover, a number of Germans came into my chamber this morning, saying that at the time when the Emperor came to Pisa they were three months in our service, and that one hundred and thirty of their companions under command of a captain called Antonio Buner had never been paid; and with insulting and threatening language they demanded immediate payment from me. I told them that I knew nothing whatever of the matter; but if they would depute two of their number I would give them letters to your Lordships so that you could settle with them. But they refused this, and the only arrangement I could make with them, after much abusive language on their part, was that I should write to your Lordships; and if within forty-eight hours they were paid they would be satisfied; if not, they would pay themselves with my blood. M. Saliente and some other Frenchmen happened to come in at the time; they seemed frightened to death, and were as much alarmed by this crowd as I was myself. They excused themselves, and comforted me with fresh water, and approved the proposition that I should write you. Beaumont seemed utterly disheartened, and manifests great regret at this occurrence; but he sees no remedy for it, and seems really distressed that both his good will and his ability are of no avail. The captain of the Swiss seems full of good intentions, but brings forth nothing. All this, however, may be merely pretended, and may have no other object than the justification of the king at our expense.

As for myself, I augur very ill of the situation, and should deem it well if your Lordships would consider whether, without prejudice to our republic, I might think of my own safety; for what has not yet taken place may occur at any moment. I beg your Lordships, however, not to attribute this suggestion to cowardice on my part, for I am resolved to face any danger that may be deemed for the interest of our republic.

All these proceedings tend only to make us despair of Pisa, and to apprehend even worse, and therefore, as I have several times written to your Lordships, it is well to watch the whole of this game, and amongst many evils to choose the least, and above all promptly to apply the remedies that can be thought of, so as to produce an immediate effect. Weigh all this carefully, and confine yourselves to such measures and dispositions as the times demand; and believe him who tells you in good faith that the eye speaks the truth, rather than the ear.

Your Lordships must understand that I had been notified some days before of the above-mentioned trouble with the Swiss; but not wishing to annoy your Lordships, and believing that I should be able to defend myself against such dishonesty, I did not inform your Lordships of it before; nor should I have said anything on the subject now, but that I recognize the manifest danger.

I recommend myself to your Lordships.

Lucas Antonio degli Albizzi,
Commissioner-General.

From the Camp before Pisa,

July 8, 1500,

at the 14½ hour.

P. S. — For God’s sake do not forget the provisions, for that would be the completion of our ruin. De Beaumont must also be provided for; he has begun to importune me, and never sees me without worrying me on that point.

Niccolo Machiavelli

9 July

Florence

LETTER II.

Magnificent Signori: —

The commissioner wrote you yesterday evening the condition of things in which we find ourselves here; and to-day at three o’clock there came about one hundred Swiss to his quarters,  and demanded pay for the company of Gianotto; saying that they would not leave without being paid. The commissioner could not pacify them with words or promises, so that after much disputing they have carried him off prisoner. Since then I have heard nothing further, for I have remained at the station of San Michele, so as to be able to give your Lordships this information, that you may take measures to prevent one of your citizens, with so many of his people, all your subjects, from being carried off, and by whom! Valete!

Niccolo Machiavelli.

From the Camp before Pisa,

9 July, 14th hour

G. B. Bartolini

9 July, 1500

Cascina

LETTER III. FROM GIO. BATTISTA BARTOLINI TO THE SIGNORIA OF FLORENCE.

Magnificent and Illustrious Signori: —

I wrote to your Lordships at the sixteenth hour, and sent it by the same courier that brought me the news of the carrying off of the commissioner by the Swiss, so that he might in his own words relate to you what he has told me; for having nothing else to communicate, I should not have ventured to have written you expressly about this matter. We are now at the twentieth hour, and I have heard nothing positive except that a little while ago Piero Pucci returned with another courier, and told me with his own lips that the commissioner had been liberated, but he could give me no further particulars. He said also that he had been told in camp to stop the provisions here in Cascina, as the camp was to be moved to-morrow to San Giovanni della Vena. Not having any other positive information on this point, I should not have mentioned it to your Lordships were it not for the importance of this place, which is well known to you, and therefore it seemed to me dangerous to leave it badly supplied with everything, as I have already several times written to your Lordships.

Borgo Rinaldi has arrived, but he has only a few men, and these without arms. I have anyhow urged him to make up his company. Believing the Signor Piero in Florence, I have urged him also to the same effect, as your Lordships know.  But I fear that unless they act promptly we shall not be in time. We have neither cuirasses, long lances, nor bucklers, nor any ammunition except a few barrels of powder, which I have retained here since yesterday. Everything else is absolutely wanting. I beg your Lordships to provide these things if you think proper, and very promptly.

There is a post here of some eight or ten archers, sent here by M. de Beaumont, at the request of Gio. Battista Ridolfi and Luca degli Albizzi, as before mentioned, for the purpose of protecting the country against the outrages of the brutal camp followers. Up to the present these men have kept good and diligent watch; if I receive some infantry now, so that I can myself protect the country, I do not know whether or not to discharge this post of archers. I believe that the troops which I expect will arrive before I can receive a reply from your Lordships, in which case I will do the best under the circumstances until I shall receive your wiser decision. But I beg you will send me your instructions, and, if received in time, I will conform to them. But above all things I entreat you to send provisions, and that quickly, as otherwise I greatly mistrust the people of the country, particularly in view of the treatment we have experienced at the hands of these troops. Moreover, if the camp is moved to-morrow to San Giovanni, we shall have the Pisans full of courage and confidence after us.

Knowing these things now, I hope your Lordships will weigh them well and provide for them. I recommend myself most humbly to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Cascina,

9 July, 1500

P. S. At the 20th hour. — Letters from the commissioner inform us that the army will be to-morrow morning at Campi, the other side of the Caprona, whence they are to make their first movement. He directs me to be sure and have a supply of provisions ready. I shall do my utmost in the matter. He moreover charges me to urge Borgo, and the Signor Pietro Guagni and Carlo da Cremona, and Messer Bandino, to have their companies ready and in order; and that your Lordships urge the Signor Piero in Florence to the same effect.

G. B. Bartolini,
Commissioner-General.

Luca di Antonio Degli Albizzi

9 July

Florence

LETTER IV. COPY OF A LETTER WRITTEN BY ME, LUCA DI ANTONIO DEGLI ALBIZZI, TO THE ILLUSTRIOUS AND MAGNIFICENT SIGNORIA, 9 JULY, 22D HOUR.

Magnificent Signori: —

I know not whether in the last hour of my life (which God grant may be soon!) I shall suffer one fourth of the pain and affliction which I feel at this time; not so much on account of the perils to which I have been, and am still exposed, nor on account of my seizure and detention, but because I see from the letters of your Lordships, and particularly the one of the 8th, written at the fourth hour, that you have not as much faith in me as I had supposed that I deserved; but that I have been abandoned by all, like one forsaken and lost. My sins and ill fortune will it so; but God perhaps will succor him who is so unjustly abandoned! Having fully pointed out to your Lordships the dangers, and you knowing perfectly yourselves the wretched conduct of these men so recently towards the king of France and the Duke of Milan, it was not to be supposed that any expedients would moderate the dishonest demands of these Swiss. But it has pleased your Lordships to have it so, and although for the moment out of prison, yet I continue to be obliged to dispute my life, for at every moment there are fresh menaces and impositions, and new dangers, all on account of our republic, and whether just or unjust, I alone have to suffer without so much as being pitied! May God comfort me by death, if in no other way!

Niccolo Machiavelli has informed you of my capture; after that I was led on foot half a mile or more in the direction of Pisa, and taken before the captain of the Swiss, where after a long altercation, and being threatened with their halberds, I was told that before they would let me get out of their hands they meant that some four or five hundred of their companions who had come from Rome, allured by the prospects held out to them by your Lordships, should be paid, and that I should guarantee it; and if not promptly done, they would not content themselves merely by keeping me prisoner. I recalled to them the honor of the king, the good treatment  they had received, and that they would be settled with by your Lordships, and therefore they ought not to maltreat me personally; but neither reason nor the manifest impossibility of my doing anything could move them in the least. So that after much contention and threatening I was told that, if I did not settle with them, not only my person, but our whole republic, would suffer in consequence; and that they had the means of paying themselves with our artillery if they chose to do so. Seeing no help, and being utterly without any means wherewith to satisfy them, I begged their captain to guarantee my promises to them, which he did; but it is evident that he will have to be paid before I can leave him. I will do my utmost to procure the means, and if Pellegrino has nothing left, I must see whether I can have recourse to Lodovico Morelli, and to what little money may remain in the hands of Bernardo Pacini, which, however, would derange everything, unless your Lordships provide otherwise; for I had intended that money for the re-establishment of the garrisons of Cascina and Vico; but I shall do as best I can. Although it was agreed in my arrangement with the captain of the Swiss that the artillery should be brought to me all safe to Cascina, yet I am not certain whether it will be done.

These men intend breaking up in the night and moving towards San Giovanni alla Vena, where they are to remain to-morrow, and then go by the Lucca road to Pietrasanta, to remain until they learn the pleasure of his Majesty the king. I understand that the Gascons are waiting for them on Lucchese territory; and if I am permitted, I shall remain at Vico or Cascina and wait there for my leave from your Lordships. Upon this point I ought reasonably to have no apprehensions, my hope being mainly in your Lordships’ good will; nor do I reply to your third and last letter, for both the times and circumstances favor those at whose discretion we happen to be. I recommend myself to your Lordships.

Although I wrote yesterday at Cascina and Vico urging the completion of the companies, yet I entreat your Lordships to provide for them at once, whilst we are in danger. And so soon as these troops have left here the Lord of Piombino should concentrate all his forces at Cascina; and if you have other troops at your service they should be sent to Vico, so as to establish a reasonable garrison there. And when Cascina shall  have been properly provided for, then all the suspected persons whom your Lordships have lately sent away from Florence should be removed from there.

Niccolo Machiavelli

July 9, 1500

Cascina

Battista Bartolini

LETTER V. THE MAGISTRACY OF THE TEN TO GIOV. BATTISTA BARTOLINI, COMMISSIONER AT CASCINA, JULY 9, 1500.

A letter from Niccolo Machiavelli informs us this morning that the Germans have carried off Luca degli Albizzi. Sensible of the discredit and danger which this may cause us, we have deliberated all day as to the means of providing for your safety and of that of the other places near you. Besides remedying these evils as far as we can, we have at once sent the Signori Piero and Borgo Rinaldi in that direction, and have called Messer Criaco and the Count Checco to reorganize their companies, for which the necessary funds will be ready. According to their promises there will be no delay, and we believe that by to-morrow or the day after at furthest troops enough will be ready to suffice for the protection and defence of Cascina. Meantime you must do your utmost to hold the place, and so far as in your power provide also for the necessities of the other places, or at least write and advise them as to what they should do. And inasmuch as the charge of all this may be too heavy a burden for one man, in the midst of all these troubles and disorders, we have to-day sent Piero Vespucci with the authority of a commission with whom yourself and such other of our citizens as may be there will consult as to the best course to pursue.

Of the capture of our commissioner we have but a very brief account from Niccolo Machiavelli, given in a few words, as indeed at the date of his letter he could say no more. He does not tell where they have taken the commissioner to, and whether any other persons have been carried off at the same time; nor what has become of the artillery, or of the four hundred Germans who had gone in the direction of Livorno; nor does he say whether any others left the camp at the same time, or what the men-at-arms intend to do, or what course the captain has  decided to take. It would be well for you to give us a full account of all this as soon as possible. We desire also to know what has become of such of our citizens as were in camp at the time, for their relatives are in the extremest degree anxious on the subject.

Niccolo Machiavelli

10 July, 1500

Florence

Luca Degli Albizzi

LETTER VI. THE MAGISTRACY OF THE TEN TO LUCA DEGLI ALBIZZI, IN CAMP, 10 JULY, 1500.

Magnificent Signori: —

As much as we were grieved yesterday on hearing of your capture, through Machiavelli, and afterwards through Giov. Battista Bartolini, which made us fear that all our other citizens in your neighborhood had probably shared the same fate, just so much are we elated to-day by the news of your liberation, from which we conclude that the others are safe and free. And although the defection of those troops placed us in the most precarious position possible, because of the discredit and dishonor which it has brought us, yet the discomforts, injuries, and danger to which you have been exposed aggravates the matter so much that we regard it as a great change from bad to good to know that you are safe and well.

We could wish to repair all the other misfortunes in the same way, but as that is impossible, we must accommodate ourselves to circumstances, and think for the present only of consolidating our affairs in those parts. For this purpose it seems to us desirable if possible to have all the artillery and munitions which we had sent you brought back here, and to have them withdrawn to Pontedera for greater security. Also, without loss of time, to withdraw all the artillery and the remainder of the munitions that are still in the hands of the French, and to make every effort to provide for the defence of Cascina; which we have so much at heart that we shall not lose an hour in despatching some infantry there. We should have done so already this evening, had it not been that the danger which threatens Pescia is even more pressing. We learn from several sources that the Gascons are marching on that place, together with  some other troops to the number of four thousand, and some hundreds of cavalry; which surprises us the more, as up to this hour we had not heard that any men-at-arms had left the camp. You can well imagine how much we regret this, which we are greatly inclined to attribute to some intrigue of the Lucchese. But we should not have attached any credit to this, knowing how fear makes these people exaggerate everything, were it not that we knew that some one from Lucca had told the same thing at Pescia, and under the influence of fear had withdrawn all his effects from there, which only a few days before he had stored there from fear of the French. We have sent some officers there with their companies, and think of nothing else than to provide for the safety of the two places, but first for that which is hardest pressed.

It would be well for you to notify M. de Beaumont of all this, and to try and get a reply from his Lordship as to the matters that have been intrusted to Piero Vespucci, and respecting which we also wrote to you this morning; and more especially with regard to the offer of troops. We should like to have a reply from him in writing, which we charge you by all means to obtain from him if possible; and you will renew to him the same proposition for troops to serve during the siege; so that the engagement of these troops be made with his consent, and that we may avail ourselves of their service to suit our purpose.

So long as the revolted troops remain in your vicinity, which will probably be not more than a few days, it seems to us that it will not do for you to leave, as that would expose our affairs to complete ruin; but whenever they depart you can advise us and have our reply in a few hours.

As we have no particulars from you as to the cause or the manner of your detention, nor as to the means of your release, nor any other details on the subject, we cannot definitely instruct you as to the course to be pursued when those troops leave, and if they should require you to go with them, either for the reasons that prompted your capture, or for any other reason. We must therefore leave this matter entirely to your own judgment; and fully persuaded that you will do nothing without having thoroughly examined all the circumstances and consequences, we can but approve in advance all that you may decide upon doing.

Your determination to call to your aid the Lord of Piombino seems to us in the highest degree commendable. We shall write to him this evening, to mount and proceed with all his men in your direction, and if possible to push on to Cascina; and if that cannot be done, then at least go to Pontedera, and to make every effort to send from there as many men as possible to Cascina, and to conform in all respects to whatever orders you may give him.

We have again written to-day in all directions for provisions, and especially to the Vicars of — , and have given them hopes that these hardships and annoyances will not continue long. It does not seem to us advisable to withdraw any men from Cascina, until there is a sufficient garrison of infantry to enable us to do it more safely and more creditably.

We have forgotten to tell you that, in case Beaumont should leave with the troops, and should wish to have some one of our people accompany him, as you cannot go with him, you must try to send Pellegrino or Francesco della Casa.

We wish very much to know the particulars of your capture and detention, as also the cause and the means of your release, if you can give us this information without danger to yourself or ourselves; but if you think it not safe to communicate it by letter, then send us some confidential person who is fully informed on that subject, as well as on all other matters that we ought to know.

Bene vale!

King Louis XII

27 July, 1500

Rouen

LETTER VII. COPY OF A LETTER FROM HIS MOST CHRISTIAN MAJESTY KING LOUIS XII. OF FRANCE TO THE SIGNORI OF FLORENCE, DATED AT ROUEN, 27 JULY, 1500.

Louis, King of France, etc., etc. —

Very dear Friends, —

We have been informed only a few days since of the great disorders that have occurred in the army engaged in the siege of Pisa, in consequence of the mutiny  and quarrel of several ill-disciplined bodies of infantry forming part of that camp; and who without any cause have risen and left the camp and the siege without the knowledge or consent of M. de Beaumont, our lieutenant, or that of any of the captains or men of rank who were in the camp; which occurrence has caused us as much regret as anything that could possibly have happened. And inasmuch as, besides the injury which it has caused you, it touches our honor and reputation, we are absolutely determined and resolved to remedy and provide for what has occurred in such manner as fully to maintain our power and authority. And to effect this purpose we have decided to leave nothing undone, as you shall see and know very soon by the result. We have therefore sent our Major-domo Corcou, whom amongst other things we have directed to make us an exact and true report upon this affair, and how these disorders originated and progressed, so that we may provide against them as becomes our honor and to your satisfaction. For the present we have thought, and have so communicated to your ambassadors here, that for the good of the cause, and for the re-establishment of our army, it would be best that some one else should select some suitable spot on your territory where the army might stop and go into camp, without retreating any further this way. And for this purpose we have written to and especially enjoined upon M. de Beaumont and all his captains, as they value their lives, not to move, nor leave or abandon the army, without having fresh orders from us.

We have equally written and made known to your neighbors, that the matter of Pisa touches us personally, and that their giving aid, comfort, and support to its inhabitants will cause us to regard them as our declared enemies. That we  have had them advised of this, so that henceforth they may avoid doing so, otherwise we shall provide such remedies as we may deem proper.

You must conclude anyhow to settle this matter in such manner that it shall be terminated with honor to ourselves, and with advantage to yourselves and your republic. And finally we beg you to show your spirit in a matter that concerns you so closely; and to employ all your forces and power to that effect. And be assured that in acting thus we make no doubt, and apprehend no difficulty, but what you will in a short time oblige the city of Pisa to return to her duty.

All that we have said and declared in this letter we have also caused to be said and declared to your ambassadors, so that they may also communicate it to you, etc., etc.

Addio, dear lords and friends.

MISSION TO THE COURT OF FRANCE. 18 July, 1500.

COMMISSION.

Magnifici Domini, etc., etc. —

Intelligentes multis de causis oportere non literis tantum, sed per eos etiam, qui in Castris Gallicis fuissent, excusare, purgareque multa quæ objicerentur R. P. obque recessum esset ab obsidione Pisanæ urbis, elegerunt Franciscum Casam, et Nicolaum Machiavellum secretarium secum, ambos nobilissimos cives Florentinos, dederuntque illis in sua hac legatione ea mandata, quæ infra scripta sunt, et cum salario unoquoque die, videlicet Francisco Casæ librarum octo florenorum parvorum, et Nicolao Machiavello, ultra ejus salarium ordinarium, ad rationem florenorum viginti largorum in grossis unoquoque mense.

Franciscus reversus est die 6 Martii 1500.

Nicolaus reversus est die 14 Januarius 1500.

You will proceed with all possible despatch, even to riding post, if your strength permits it, to Lyons, or wherever you learn that his most Christian Majesty is to be found. Upon arrival, you will at once call upon our ambassadors there, Messers Francesco Gualterotti and Lorenzo Lenzi, and communicate to them  our present instructions, and confer with them as to whether there is anything to be added or left out; also as to your mode of proceeding in urging one thing more than another. You will then present yourselves, together with our ambassadors, before his Majesty, the king, and, after the customary formalities of the first audience, you will expose to him in our name the substance of the instructions you will receive from us; although we do not believe that we can give you more clear and positive information than what you already possess touching the events of which you have yourselves been witnesses, and in connection with which you were in great part the agents and executors of all that had to be done on our part.

The whole of this matter consists of two parts, viz. first, to complain of the disturbances that have taken place, and to make known their cause and the names of their originators; and, secondly, to defend and exculpate us from the imputations that may be brought against us. But upon this latter part you will not touch unless obliged by necessity to repel the charges they may make in relation to what we ought to have done under the circumstances, etc., etc. You will, therefore, limit yourselves in your first exposition to enumerating all the reasons  that have constrained Monseigneur de Beaumont to despair of success, and finally to abandon the siege of Pisa. And these were, according to our judgment, the lack of obedience of the troops to the orders of the commander-in-chief, the intrigues which at first were carried on by the captain of the Swiss with the Pisans, and afterwards by certain Italians of the party of the Trivulzi and the Pallavicini, by order of Messer Gianjacopo, who, seeing how much our city, after recovering all her possessions, could do to aid in the preservation of the duchy of Milan, had taken this means of thwarting an undertaking which he did not approve of; and perhaps he also contemplated in this way to interrupt the attempt against the kingdom of Naples. It is thus that nearly all the others excepting Beaumont and Samplet have acted; and that the governor of Asti and Monsignore di Buno (on account of Entraghes) have revived all the old passions of Italy. To this statement you will be careful to add the full particulars of what you have witnessed yourselves, and of which you have a distinct recollection, but of which it is impossible for us to give particular details. You must add, furthermore, all that has been done in favor of the Pisans by the people of Lucca, Genoa, and Sienna, of which we have no positive evidence, although we know that ambassadors from these cities were kept in camp to create disturbances and to keep the army in suspense. You will on no account omit to say that these men have often been seen to enter Pisa in secret; and especially Rinieri della Sassetta, who has been pointed out to us as the agent and special favorite of the Pallavicini, to whom, together with all the others who were unfriendly to our enterprise against Pisa, we attribute the defection of the Gascons, and which had no other cause than that, and was the manifest origin of the ruin of this enterprise. For after that the Swiss became turbulent, and refused to perform all service, in consequence of which the camp had to be broken up. The object of stating all this to his Majesty is to demonstrate to him that the failure of the enterprise can in no way be attributed to us.

You may begin your statement with the departure of the troops from Piacenza, and show that, until their arrival under the walls of Pisa, all that could be done was done by us; and then you can go on immediately to state the above-mentioned circumstances, and add all that you can remember as having  contributed to the failure of the enterprise. Let that be the substance of your first audience, and be careful to avoid seeming to excuse us in any way, unless it be that we are reproached with having neglected to throw a bridge over the river Osole, or with having allowed the army to remain without provisions and ammunition as well as pioneers. Your reply upon these points will not be difficult, however, for the bridge could not be constructed for want of an escort, which it was their business to furnish; and as regards munitions, you are yourselves aware that they were furnished in more than double the quantity that their bombardiers had asked for, of which we still have their own letters as proof. In fact, they have never been short of ammunition, unless it was after it became manifest that the success of the enterprise was despaired of. And, moreover, they declared that they would not burn an ounce of their own powder, although it was agreed at Milan that they were to let us have all the powder and balls which they had, on condition that our commissioner paid them for it, or returned them an equal quantity. And finally as to the pioneers, notwithstanding the bad treatment to which they were subjected in being obliged to plant batteries by daylight, yet our commissioner had offered and agreed with the master of artillery, in case he should be in want of pioneers, to supply them at our expense from amongst those who were in camp, without any reclamation whatever for their pay; and this offer was accepted, and had satisfied them. As regards the matter of provisions, you have so large a field for explanation in the frequent and manifest dishonesty of the French, that this point will be more easily excused than any other; and you must not fail to relate the greater part of the particular instances that have occurred, which was so frequent a subject of our letters to the camp.

It will, furthermore, be proper for you to speak of the capture of our commissioner, of the persons guilty of this outrage, and of the manner in which it was done, and of the outrages and insults we have had to bear, even from the lowest private soldier. In fact, you must make a summary of all these matters, which will go to prove that we have been treated by them more like enemies than friends, amplifying or extenuating these matters as will best serve our cause. And upon this point you must not forget to say that the detention of Gianotto da San Martino and of his troops was entirely by order of Beaumont;  and for our entire justification upon this point you will take his letter with you, as well as copies and originals of other writings that will serve for our vindication.

We deem it unnecessary to add anything more for your information to this commission; for all the knowledge we have has been obtained from the camp, where you were personally present, and could therefore see and know all the facts better than ourselves. You will therefore enlarge upon these facts as much as may seem necessary to you, without departing from the course which we have indicated to you above; namely, you will first explain all the causes that have given rise to these disorders; and then you will show all that has been done by us since the departure of the troops from Piacenza, both for the payment of the stipend, as well as everything else; and when necessary, you will repel and vindicate us from all charges of having been the authors of these disorders that have led to the failure of the enterprise.

And although we have refrained from blaming the commander, not wishing to incur his enmity, nevertheless when, speaking before his Majesty the king, or other personages of importance, the opportunity presents itself of successfully laying the blame upon him, you will do so energetically, and must not hesitate to charge him with cowardice and corruption. You will also state that he had constantly in his tent with him, and at his table, either one or both of the ambassadors from Lucca, through whom the Pisans obtained information and advice of all our plans and our doings. But until such an opportunity occurs, you must speak of the commander in an honorable manner, and throw all the blame upon others, and avoid particularly saying anything against him in presence of the Cardinal d’Amboise; for we do not wish to lose his good will, unless we can thereby gain a corresponding advantage in another direction. Our ambassadors can give you all the information, not only upon this point, but also whether it will do for you to speak openly of Trivulzio and the others, in which matters they can best guide you, for they know the favors and disfavors of the court much better than we do.

You may add in justification of the non-construction of the bridge over the river Osole, that the troops had hastened their march, and arrived there on the very day when they were expected to reach the bridge over the Serchio.

Touching the Lucchese, you will state that one of their ambassadors accompanied the Gascons at the time of their defection; and that, whilst the French held the mouth of the river Arno, they constantly permitted provisions and troops and munitions of war, etc. to reach Pisa by way of the river; and particularly that Tarlatino of Citta di Castello entered Pisa in that way with a number of companions; and immediately upon his arrival was placed at the head of all the infantry that was there.

REGI FRANCORUM.

Die

17 Julii 1500

Christianissime Rex, etc. —

Mittimus ad Christianissimam Majestatem Vestram Franciscum della Casa et Nicolaum Machiavellum, nobilissimos cives nostros, quibus mandavimus multa exponere illi nostro nomine de his quæ pertinunt ad bellum quod gestum est contra Pisanos: quibus precamur fidem habere certissimam, et quia nostro nomine loquentur, et quia presentes in castris omnia viderunt, poteruntque ob id certissime omnia renuntiare Majestati Vestræ.

PATENTES PRO NICOLAO MACHIAVELLO ET FRANCISCO DELLA CASA, AD CHRISTIANISSIMAM REGIAM MAJESTATEM.

Die quo supra

(17 Julii 1500)

In sending at the present time, on account of certain important matters of ours, our respectable and most valued citizens Francesco della Casa and Niccolo Machiavelli to the court of the Most Christian King, we beg the friends, confederates, and well-wishers of our republic, and command our subjects, that both in going and returning you will receive them with all their servants, goods, and equipage, and treat them in the most friendly manner everywhere within your dominion, without payment of any tolls or taxes. And in case they should require any guides, escorts, or any other favors for their safe conveyance to where they wish to go, we pray you promptly to comply  with their requests. Your doing so will be appreciated by us in the highest degree, and in similar or more important occasions we offer you the same service at your good will and pleasure.

INSTRUCTIONS GIVEN TO FRANCESCO DELLA CASA AND NICCOLO MACHIAVELLI BY LORENZO LENZI, AMBASSADOR, ETC., ETC.

In consequence of the absence of Messer Francesco Gualterotti, and the departure of the king from here, I shall not be able to present you to his Majesty, and therefore deem it necessary to give you the following instructions, namely: —

You will follow the court, and upon your arrival there you will present yourselves to the Cardinal d’Amboise and make known to him the object of your mission. Say to him that you have come for the purpose of explaining to his Majesty all that has occurred in the camp before Pisa; but that before doing so you desire to render a full and particular account of it to his Eminence, so that you may afterwards communicate so much of it to his Majesty and the Council as his Eminence may deem proper. In fact, that you are prepared to follow his advice in all things, inasmuch as our republic looks upon his Eminence as her chief protector and benefactor. Ask him to present you to his Majesty whenever he thinks it best, and to direct you what, in his judgment, it will be proper for you to communicate to his Majesty, as well as the manner of doing it. And in your language to his Eminence be prodigal of assurances of our having the most unlimited confidence in him; in short, do all that can be done to preserve his favorable disposition towards our republic, and to derive from it all the advantages possible.

When you enter upon the particulars of the troubles that occurred in the camp, you must avoid as much as possible laying the blame upon M. de Beaumont, particularly in those matters that cannot be laid to our charge. You may say that the trouble arose from his not having influence enough in camp, and from the natural gentleness of his character, which caused him not to be sufficiently feared as he should have been. But that his intentions always had been most excellent, and that he  always manifested the greatest anxiety and displeasure at seeing things go as they did, to our disadvantage and to the discredit of his Majesty; and that, so far as his talents and labors could produce any good effect, he never relaxed his efforts nor his diligence; and that the malignity of others was the sole cause of all the disorders. You must reiterate that it was the envy and bad conduct of those Italians who were in the camp; and whom you may blame regardlessly, for you will be addressing your remarks to his Eminence the Cardinal d’Amboise, and in presence of Monseigneur d’Alby and the Maréchal de Gies.

And when you happen to be alone with his Eminence d’Amboise, you may incidentally state that the conduct of these Italians had been so bad that there could be no doubt but they were acting under orders from outside of the camp. You may point out to his Eminence some of the instances mentioned in your commission, and especially the fact that they had engaged Rinieri della Sassetta, one of our rebels, and employed him in the intrigues with the Pisans, in which a great many of the Lombards participated. In the same way you may refer to the insolence and brutality of the infantry, and the waste of provisions of which they were guilty, and from which all the other troubles originated. Do not fail to testify to the good conduct of Saliente. And another matter to which I must call your particular attention is, that if his Eminence d’Amboise should say to you, when you are alone with him, or in the presence of the king or any other persons, that M. de Beaumont had been appointed to the command of the army at the request of Pietro Soderini, and with our concurrence; then admit that you have heard that this was so, and that it could only have been of advantage for us; for it is most important to preserve the good will of the Cardinal for objects of greater magnitude, or when we may need him to relieve us from even heavier charges.

You will add that you have heard that, notwithstanding what has occurred, his Majesty is disposed to persevere in carrying on the war against the Pisans, and against all who give them aid and support, or attempt in any way to injure us. So that the siege is to be recommenced, and that for that reason it had lately been agreed with us Ambassadors that the camp shall be located in a healthy place in the vicinity of Pisa, and where it can be conveniently supplied with provisions and other necessaries  for making fair war against Pisa, until the siege is resumed; but that you are ignorant as to the present whereabouts and the condition of the camp, as well as what Florence may be able to do; knowing that since the departure of the troops the Pisans have ravaged the country to our detriment and dishonor, which would not have occurred but for the fact that our reliance upon the troops of his Majesty made us disband our own, so as the better to be able to provide for the pay of the army and the other expenses of the war. That it is necessary promptly to put an end to these insults, and for that reason, although without having been asked to do so by our Signoria, we have resolved to ask of his Majesty as soon as possible to give orders to his commander and his troops, whenever requested by the Florentine government, to send two hundred lances, but not Italians, to go and remain on Pisan territory; where they are to be quartered in a convenient and healthy situation, the same as has been specified for the whole army, and for the purpose of obtaining the same results. And you may say that you expect to find his Majesty well disposed to do this, as you have heard from your Ambassadors that his Majesty had said to them that, believing his army had crossed the Alps, he intended to send one hundred fresh lances into the Pisan territory for the purpose of carrying his objects into execution. But that in your judgment this number would be insufficient to make itself feared; and that their coming would be rather late, inasmuch as the Pisans had taken fresh courage. Nevertheless, this number would be better than the whole army, for, whilst they would answer the immediate purpose, it would be easier to supply them with provisions, and they would be a less heavy charge; and moreover, if the whole army were there, it would be a shame not to press the place more closely; whilst the small number would seem to be there merely to prevent further insults, until the siege could be really resumed in earnest. It would also show that his Majesty had no thought of abandoning the enterprise, which would comport with his dignity as well as our interests. You must also ask his Majesty to allow Giovanni Bentivogli to come to our aid with his forces, he being animated by the desire to do so in honor of his Majesty and for our benefit, whenever his Majesty will deign to permit it, for he deems it his duty to do nothing without his Majesty’s consent.

The persons upon whose influence with his Most Christian Majesty we can most depend are, first, the Cardinal d’Amboise, Monseigneur d’Alby, — in fact, I may say the whole house of Amboise; the Maréchal de Gies, and Monseigneur General Robertet, whom you will see as often as you can, and let him see that you have full faith in him, which you will find to your advantage.

I had forgotten to name the Grand Chancellor, who, although he has the reputation of being favorably inclined towards the Lucchese, yet is our friend, and you may safely trust him. Show equal confidence to Messer Jacopo da Trivulzi, and when you come to discuss matters with him, give him to understand that you intend to follow his counsels, and recommend our city to him. The same with Ligny; when you have occasion to talk with him, show him confidence, and use all means to dispose him favorably towards us, or at any rate as little unfavorably as possible.

You have been informed of what the Cardinal has lately written, showing that he is inclined to accept the excuses of the Lucchese. It is possible that on your arrival you may find that this matter has not yet been finally disposed of; if this be so, then let his Eminence know the manner in which the Lucchese have conducted themselves towards us, making it appear as bad as you can, without, however, manifesting any passion. And having done all this, you will say to his Eminence that our Signoria will approve whatever he may decide; but if, with regard to the reinforcements asked for the enterprise against Pisa, his Eminence should be of the opinion that things ought to be left as they are until after the capture of the city, then I think you should insist upon such reinforcements, which would act as a stimulant to keep the Lucchese in greater fear, and make them more circumspect. The same with the Pisans, and such as are disposed to aid them, for they also would feel more restrained by a greater terror than if all the troops were recalled, which would reanimate the courage of the Pisans and of their allies.

Above all, do not dispute upon any of the points on which you see that his Eminence has formed a definite judgment; and when you find him decided upon any particular course, approve all he has done, for the power and good will of the king of France will make up for all that we might lack. And do not  fail to say to the Cardinal d’Amboise that the report which has been made to him in relation to the conduct of the Lucchese may be the result of ignorance of the individual who made it, or he may have been influenced by some other motive. Nevertheless, after you have done all you can in the matter, you must conform to the will of his Eminence.

Francesco della Casa

Niccolo Machiavelli

28 July, 1500

Lyons

LETTER I.

Magnificent and Illustrious Signori, etc., etc. —

Having but just now heard of the departure of the courier, we have no time to write to your Lordships other than most briefly to inform you that, after travelling with the utmost speed, we arrived here on Sunday the 26th of this month, bbut found that the king had left. To enable us therefore to execute your Lordships’ commission, and some other instructions given us by your Ambassador Lorenzo Lenzi, with regard to the troops of Messer Giovanni Bentivogli, etc., we propose mounting horses here to-morrow, it being impossible to follow the king by post, and to proceed as rapidly as possible to such place as will be most suitable for having an audience of his Majesty. We shall use all diligence and care faithfully to make known to him all that you have charged us with; and will then report fully and at length to your Lordships, which it is not in our power to do to-day.

Valeant Dominationes vestræ.

Servitores

Francesco della Casa et
Niccolo Machiavelli.

Lyons,

28 July, 1500

Francesco della Casa

Niccolo Machiavelli

29 July, 1500

Lyons

LETTER II.

Magnificent Signori: —

As the courier of yesterday could not wait we had to write but very briefly to your Lordships, but stated amongst other things the causes of our having arrived here a little later perhaps than your Lordships could have desired. The cause of  this delay was an unforeseen accident, which obliged us to stop on the road. On arriving here we found that Messer Francesco Gualterotti had left with the court, as stated in our letter of yesterday, and had taken the road to San Antonio. Your Lordships may judge of our disappointment; particularly as it obliged us to execute our commission as though we ourselves were ambassadors.

We communicated to his Magnificence Lorenzo Lenzi the object of our coming and of the commission with which we had been charged by your Lordships, all of which he listened to with attention, and examined with his habitual prudence. Our justification as to the raising of the siege of Pisa seemed to him complete, and calculated to confute all attempts to blame us, whenever heard and examined. His Magnificence afterwards explained to us the position of the affairs of our republic with his Majesty, and stated what he had written to your Lordships, in consequence of the determination of the king to keep his men-at-arms and infantry in healthy locations on Pisan territory, and convenient for attacking the Pisans at any moment, until he should return from Troyes, whither he had gone now to have an understanding with the Emperor of Germany’s ambassador for the reorganization of his army and a fresh attempt at the capture of Pisa. He stated that all this had been communicated by himself and his colleague to your Lordships; but as in your reply you had declined this proposition, they did not deem it proper to lay it before the king, but had decided at once to write you again, suggesting to your Lordships once more carefully to examine the matter, and that they are still awaiting your reply, which his Majesty also desires to have; for every time that he has seen D’Amboise he has asked after the ambassadors.

We have said, in answer to all this, that we thought the probable reason of the coldness of your reply, and your nonacceptance of the king’s offer, was the want of success in the siege of Pisa, which had disappointed the general expectation, and had brought little honor to the king and great injury to our republic. So that your Lordships, from the experience you have had, can never again have confidence in those troops; and that the collecting of five hundred men-at-arms and three thousand infantry around Cascina, according to the latest resolve of the king, would be impossible, in view of their character,  etc., etc.; for they could not be supplied with provisions for any length of time. Adding that it would not redound to his Majesty’s honor that so large a number of his troops should remain here merely to ravage an already wasted and exhausted country, without laying regular siege to a city that had been many times besieged and closely pressed by your Lordships with a less numerous force.

These considerations, we said, might possibly have caused your Lordships not to listen to what your ambassadors had written; and we enlarged upon this in such manner, narrating the events of recent occurrence, and the spirit and disposition of these troops, that he remained silent, and almost changed his views. And in the discussion as to the means of satisfying the king, to whom we would have to speak before receiving your Lordship’s answer, the ambassador was of opinion, that, since his Majesty was inclined to temporize with his troops on Pisan territory until a regular resumption of the siege could be organized, we ought to point out to his Majesty that this could be done equally well with a much less number of men-at-arms, and without infantry. That in fact, if his Majesty thought proper to leave, or, in case they should already have left, to send back two hundred of his lances, to be stationed between Cascina and Vico, and who could scour the country daily up to the very walls of Pisa, being supported by our infantry, his Majesty would gain time, as has been said, until a reorganization of the entire enterprise; and your Lordships would profit by the king’s credit, without incurring any further expense for men-at-arms, whilst the king would consider himself in a manner interested in the success of the enterprise from seeing his name connected with it, and consequently his honor. The ambassador thought that his Majesty would readily consent to this, having already offered one hundred lances in support of your interests, when under the impression that his army had already passed through the territory of Parma, as had been reported to him. Adding, however, that all this ought not to be asked of his Majesty until your Lordships had decided whether you would avail yourselves of this support. Now although we charge ourselves very reluctantly with this commission, as not being comprised in your orders to us, yet, being only conditional, we shall execute it so soon as the opportunity is given to us to be with the king or the Cardinal  d’Amboise. And we will endeavor to obtain letters to these captains, instructing them to place two hundred lances at your disposal, if you request it. Your Lordships, however, can examine the whole subject, and will then communicate to us your decision at length. We have nothing else of interest to mention from here to-day.

We leave here positively to-morrow to follow the court; we have been obliged to defer our departure in consequence of our having arrived here denuded of everything, and having to procure at the same time horses, wearing apparel, and servants. All this has become very difficult because of the recent departure of the court; they having stripped the whole country around of all means of travel and transport. Thus the small compensation which we receive, and the heavy expenses to which we are subjected with little prospect of being reimbursed, cause us no little anxiety. But we have every degree of confidence in your Lordships’ discretion and kindness.

In passing through Bologna we had an interview with Messer Giovanni Bentivogli in accordance with your Lordships’ instructions; and after having spoken to him about the mules that had been taken, etc., etc., we offered him on behalf of your Lordships all our good offices during the expedition; which his Lordship accepted in a suitable manner, thanking us and offering his own in return. We shall do what we can to render him service, and so that he may be permitted to come to your assistance, in accordance with your late instructions to the ambassadors; for Lorenzo Lenzi is, to our great regret, positively determined not to follow the court, but to return to Florence.

It remains for us to inform your Lordships that we met between Parma and Piacenza several thousand Swiss, who had formed part of the army, and who were now returning home. Although this fact ought to have been made known to you by Pellegrino Lorini, yet we deem it well not to omit mentioning it, so that your Lordships may avail of the information when occasion offers.

We recommend ourselves to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Servitores

Francesco della Casa,
Niccolo Machiavelli.

Lyons,

29 July, 1500

Francesco della Casa

Niccolo Machiavelli

30 July, 1500

Lyons

LETTER III.

Magnificent Signori: —

By the enclosed we have informed your Lordships of what had occurred up to that time. The present is to let you know that at this very moment, it being the twenty-first hour, we are about to leave for the court; so that we may communicate to his Majesty the king the object of the mission which your Lordships have confided to us. We shall endeavor with the utmost celerity to make up for the time which we were unavoidably obliged to lose in putting ourselves in proper condition, and to supply ourselves with all the necessaries for the purpose of proceeding, which involved many difficulties and much expense, as already stated in the enclosed.

It remains for us now most respectfully to remind your Lordships that it may readily happen that we shall have to despatch special couriers to you for matters of great importance; but which we shallnot be able to do, being without money or credit. It becomes necessary therefore that your Lordships should think of ordering either Nasi or Dei, or some other of the merchants, to forward our despatches, with promise of prompt compensation for such service; for unless this is done we shall be helpless, and might be charged with neglect without any fault of ours. We shall be equally embarrassed, in consequence of our being destitute of money, by the couriers whom your Lordships may think proper to despatch to us. We have deemed it proper to make this state of things known to you, so that your Lordships may have compassion on us.We can but do our best to perform our duty, and the impossibility of doing it will always serve as our justification in the eyes of everybody.

Bene valeant Dominationes vestræ!

Servitores

Francesco della Casa,
Niccolo Machiavelli.

Lyons,

30 July, 1500

Niccolo Machiavelli

5 August, 1500

St. Pierre

LETTER IV.

Magnificent Signori: —

Your Lordships know what salary was assigned to me on our departure from Florence, and also the amount accorded to Francesco della Casa. Doubtless this was done under the belief that in the natural course of things I would have occasion to spend less money than Francesco. Such however has not been the case; for not finding his Most Christian Majesty at Lyons, I had to provide myself with horses, servants, and clothing, the same as he; and thus following the court has obliged me to incur the same expenses as Francesco. It seems to me, therefore, beyond all human and divine reason that I should not have the same emoluments. If the expenses which I incur seem to your Lordships too great, then I would observe that they are quite as useful as those of Francesco’s, or that the twenty ducats allowed me per month are simply thrown away. If in your opinion the latter is the case, then I beg your Lordships to recall me; but if it be not so, then I trust your Lordships will take such measures that I may not ruin myself, and that at least I may be credited in Florence with the amounts for which I am compelled to become indebted here. For I pledge you my faith that up to the present moment I have spent already forty ducats of my own, and have requested my brother at Florence to make me an advance of seventy ducats more.

I recommend myself again to your Lordships, and beg that a faithful servant of yours may not, without any fault of his own, be subjected to shame and loss in the performance of services that bring to others profit and honor.

Humilissimus servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli.

From

St. Pierre,

5 August, 1500

Francesco della Casa

Niccolo Machiavelli

5 August, 1500

St. Pierre le Moutier

LETTER V.

Magnificent Signori: —

As we informed you by our last, we left Lyons on the 30th ultimo, and made every effort to join the court, with all the speed that our wretched horses would permit, having been obliged to buy such as we could get. We should have succeeded ere this in overtaking the court, had it not been that his Majesty has travelled more rapidly than usual, and has varied his route because of the sickness that prevails in this country; so that in several instances where we attempted to take a shorter and more direct road for the purpose of gaining time, we have actually gone farther away from him. Nevertheless we reached to-day this little town of St. Pierre le Moutier, about five leagues from Nevers, where we were told we should find the king, so that we hope confidently to overtake his Majesty to-morrow. We shall as soon as possible execute your Lordships’ commission; also the additional instructions given us by our ambassador, and which we communicated to your Lordships in our last. And so soon as we shall have been able to do this, we shall immediately notify your Lordships of the result, sending our letter to Rinieri Dei at Lyons, for which we shall pay with what little money may remain in our purses; for the sum which you have given us has enabled us to pay only about two thirds of the expenses which we have incurred thus far.

We take our chance in sending you this letter, as we desire that your Lordships shall be informed day by day of our progress, and because we know how disagreeable it would be for your Lordships if there were any delay in receiving our reports, even if there be nothing of importance to communicate.

Servitores

Francesco della Casa,
Niccolo Machiavelli.

St. Pierre le Moutier,

5 August, 1500

Francesco della Casa

Niccolo Machiavelli

7 August, 1500

Nevers

LETTER VI.

Magnificent Signori: —

Since our departure from Lyons, we have written you twice from different places, and advised your Lordships of the causes that have delayed our joining the court, which we will not now reiterate, partly because we do not wish to weary your Lordships, and partly because we assume that our letters have reached you safely, although we sent them at a venture. Since then we have continued our route in disregard of all the fatigue and fear of sickness which prevails in this country; and with God’s help we have arrived here, where we found his Majesty with a very small court, on account of the limited size of the place. Immediately after dismounting we presented ourselves before his Eminence the Cardinal d’Amboise; and although we had no letters for him from your Lordships, which it would have been well for us to have had, we exposed to him summarily on your behalf and on the part of the ambassadors the cause of our coming, and recommended your interests to him, as your only protector, in whom your Lordships always had and continued to have the most entire confidence.

His Eminence replied briefly, showing by his remarks that there was no great occasion for vindicating your conduct as regards the occurrences in camp, which were already an old affair; but that it was of much greater importance to think of repairing the losses in honor and profit which his Majesty as well as yourselves had experienced in consequence. And then he began immediately to question us as to what we thought of recommencing the enterprise. To this we could make no reply, for we arrived at that very moment at the king’s quarters. His Majesty, having just dined, was taking a little repose; but a few moments afterwards he arose, and, having learnt from the Cardinal d’Amboise the object of our coming, he had us called, and after we had presented our credentials, his Majesty made us enter an adjoining cabinet, where he gave us most graciously a very satisfactory audience; to which none of the French seigneurs were admitted except his Eminence the Cardinal d’Amboise and Robertet. All the other lords of the council being absent, Messer Gianjacopo Trivulzio, the Bishop of Novara, and two others of the Palavicini, were called in, as  they happened to be there, and remained throughout the whole audience.

In conformity with your Lordships’ instructions we began by submitting that inasmuch as the enterprise against Pisa and the siege of the city had, to our great prejudice and the great discredit of his Majesty’s army, an entirely different issue from his other most fortunate and successful enterprises, and as we had ourselves been present at all the events that had occurred in camp, we had been sent by your Lordships to explain to his Majesty that the cause of the raising of the siege of Pisa was in no way chargeable to any act or neglect on your part. We then related, according to our instructions, all the details as far as seemed to the purpose, and more particularly all that related to the departure from camp of the Gascons, the outrages of the Swiss, and the carrying off of our commissioner, and to the constant parleying of the French commander with the enemy. We also mentioned the insulting manner in which your Lordships and all the Florentines had been spoken of, and how all this had inspired the Pisans with fresh courage to defend themselves, contrary to the expectations of everybody; and how all this had been the chief cause of the ruin of the enterprise. It did not seem to us advisable, notwithstanding your orders upon this point, specially to accuse any Italians; for the individuals whom we have named being present, we thought that such a public accusation would be likely to make us more enemies, rather than prove of advantage to our cause.

The king and D’Amboise replied that the failure of the enterprise against Pisa was as much due to your shortcomings as to those of the king’s army; and when we answered that we really did not know wherein your Lordships had been wanting, they alleged the lack of provisions, munitions, and of many other things, observing at the same time that it was not worth while to say anything more about the matter, as it would only lead to endless recriminations.

Nevertheless, deeming it our duty to avail of the occasion to vindicate ourselves from such charges, we said that your Lordships had never failed to furnish the most abundant supply of provisions, and that there never had been any deficiency, but that they had been wantonly wasted, and that those who had brought them into camp had been overwhelmed with all  sorts of insults and bad treatment; and that if at any time it had seemed to any one that there was not a sufficient abundance, it was solely due to the injudicious distribution and the waste to which we had referred; and when we offered to give some special details upon this point, they cut us short in our statement.

As to the ammunition and the pay, in the furnishing of which we were accused of having been tardy, etc., we replied, as to the first point, that your Lordships had supplied more than what the king’s chief of artillery had called for; and as to the second, that the money had arrived in camp at the proper time, but that the paying of the troops had been deferred some five or six days because the captains of the companies had themselves so ordered it, as they did not care to have the troops paid any sooner. Respecting the Gascons, his Majesty showed several times in the course of his remarks that he was cognizant of their perfidy and treason, and that he should not fail to have them punished. And when we remarked that they had gone off by sea, his Majesty said that he had ordered their arrest and punishment on their arrival in their own country.

In relation to the carrying off of our commissioner, of which we spoke very fully, characterizing the act as brutal and infamous, they only said that the Swiss were in the habit of acting thus, and of practising similar extortions. His Majesty finally cut the discussion short by admitting that his troops had not done their duty, but that there had been equal remissness on our part; adding that Beaumont had not always made himself obeyed as he ought to have done, and that, if there had been another commander who had more thoroughly enforced obedience, the enterprise would not have failed. Having been advised by our ambassador that the Cardinal d’Amboise held Beaumont in great affection, and that the least censure of Beaumont would be displeasing to the Cardinal, we were very careful, whilst admitting on the one hand that there had been great lack of discipline, beyond all reasonable limits, which in fact had been the cause of all the disorders, to say on the other hand that we had always found Beaumont extremely jealous of his Majesty’s honor, and very friendly to our country, and that, if the others had shown an equal good will and disposition with Beaumont, we should doubtless have been victorious.  And thus we succeeded in satisfying the Cardinal, to whom we knew that what we had said of Beaumont would be most agreeable, and at the same time not contradicting the king’s conclusions as to want of discipline, etc., etc.

As it seemed to his Majesty that enough had been said on these matters, he turned towards us and said: “Since now this enterprise has ended in a manner so prejudicial to yourselves, and so little creditable to myself, and with a view to prevent my army from ever experiencing a similar check, it is necessary to come to some decision as to what had best be done for the recovery of my honor, and at the same time your interests. Some days ago already I made my views known to your Signoria through their ambassadors, and also through one of my couriers whom I despatched for that purpose to Tuscany. I have thus far done all I possibly can, and wish to do the same for the future, and only ask you to let me have your answer.”

To this we replied that we had no orders from your Lordships upon that point, and that our instructions were confined to the events that had occurred in camp, and at which we had been personally present. But that our opinion was, that the people of Florence, who had been involved for so many years in a continual and most onerous war, seeing the unhappy and unexpected issue of this last enterprise, had become impressed with the idea that, owing either to their ill fortune or to their numerous enemies, both within and without Italy, they had nothing more to hope for; that they had lost all confidence, and consequently the courage and the strength necessary for venturing upon another enterprise. But that if once his Majesty restored Pisa to our hands, so that we could see a certain reward for the expenses which we should have to incur anew, in that case we confidently believed that your Lordships would justly and amply compensate his Majesty for his outlays.

At these words the king, the Cardinal, and the other persons present began all to cry out, saying that it would be very unseemly for the king to make war for our benefit and at his expense. We at once replied that such was in no way our intention, but that we meant that his Majesty should be fully reimbursed for all the expenses incurred after having placed Pisa in our hands. To which it was answered, that the king would always  do his duty according to the stipulations of the treaty; and that, if your Lordships failed in yours, his Majesty would be excused by the whole world. The king himself added, that Pisa and Montepulciano were as much in his power as Pietrasanta and Mutrone, if he wished to keep them for himself; giving us to understand thereby that, if he did not keep them, it was merely from his desire strictly to keep his engagements. Thereupon Messer Gianjacopo Trivulzio turned towards us and said that, if we allowed this opportunity to be lost, which the king’s will and disposition, as well as other circumstances, rendered so favorable, your Lordships would in all probability never be able to recover your losses, and especially not by these means. We made no reply to this except that what we had suggested was our individual opinion, and that we had no instructions upon this point from your Lordships. Whereupon the king and D’Amboise remarked that, inasmuch as we had left Florence before the arrival there of the king’s courier, it was not surprising that we had received no instructions upon that point.

We suggested that we should receive within a very few days a reply from your Lordships to his Majesty’s letter, whereupon the king said, that without such a reply and a definite decision on your part it would be impossible to proceed any further in this matter; and that it was important that your Lordships should decide at once, so that he might know whether or not to disband the infantry, which remained on the ground at your Lordships’ disposal, giving us to understand at the same time that the expense thereof was at your charge; and that whilst awaiting your Lordships’ reply we might go on to Montargis, where he would be himself within three days. And with that conclusion we took our leave.

In our reply touching the matter of Pisa we conformed  strictly to your Lordships’ intentions; for although no instructions had been given us upon this point, yet having read at Lyons your Lordships’ last letters to our ambassadors, which, in fact, we had here with us, and which state that a reply upon this point would be expressly sent to his Majesty, we availed ourselves of the occasion respectfully to make such reply to him, being convinced that it could not in any way affect whatever new decision your Lordships may have made. We hope most earnestly that our conduct may be satisfactory to your Lordships.

This is all we have to communicate to your Lordships, up to the present, in relation to the execution of our commission. We should have enlarged more amply upon certain points but for the consideration which we were obliged to have for the Italians who were present, and also because we knew that such discussions could not but be disagreeable to the king and D’Amboise; first, because they regarded this whole matter as a thing of the past, and as it were already digested; and next, because we should have made them hear some particulars little creditable to their honor and government. Nevertheless, we thought that we ought not to leave any important particulars unnoticed, except such as we have referred to above; and these we shall relate to the king and the Cardinal on some other and more suitable occasion. We mean more especially the matter of the Lucchese, respecting which we had given some intercepted letters to Robertet, who advised us to have such portions of them as it was proper to make known translated into French, showing thus that he attached some importance to them. It was from him also that we learnt that the Lucchese ambassadors had been recalled on the day previous, so that they might appear at court.

Your Lordships had also written to our ambassadors to obtain permission from the king for Messer Giovanni Bentivogli to come with his troops to your assistance. Lorenzo Lenzi had also directed us to ask his Majesty to leave two hundred lances for the protection of your interests, but we did not think it advisable to speak of this matter in the presence of the other Italians; but we took General Robertet aside, and made your Lordships’ wishes known to him with regard to Messer Giovanni’s troops, but did not mention anything else to him. He replied, that he hardly thought such a feeble  assistance would be needed by us, as the king’s troops were at Pietrasanta, and in condition to make effectual war, and that only quite lately one hundred more lances had been sent there. Nevertheless so soon as his Majesty comes to Montargis we shall speak to him and D’Amboise about this matter; and unless we should receive contrary orders from your Lordships, we shall endeavor to obtain the permission and the number of troops you ask for.

Having arrived only to-day, we are unable to say anything as to what is going on here. The reason why his Majesty has given up his visit to Troyes, and has come here instead, is not clearly known; although we had heard on the road that the Emperor’s ambassadors, who were to have gone there, will not go. We shall endeavor to ascertain the truth more fully, and will inform your Lordships in our next letters.

Servitores

Francesco della Casa,
Niccolo Machiavelli.

Nevers,

7 August, 1500

P. S. — We have kept this letter until to-day, 10th August, as we had no opportunity of sending it sooner, although we made every effort to do so. We send it now, by some one who is going to Lyons, to Rinieri Dei, who is to forward it by first express. We are now at Montargis, where his Majesty also arrived this morning; but we have as yet no further news to communicate to your Lordships, to whom we again recommend ourselves.

Francesco della Casa

Niccolo Machiavelli

11 August, 1500

Montargis

LETTER VII.

Magnificent Signori, etc., etc. —

[The beginning of this letter is a copy of the preceding one, after which it continues: — ]

To here is a copy of our last letter of the 7th, which we could not send until the 10th from Montargis. In the execution of so much of your Lordships’ orders as had not already been attended to, we called upon the Cardinal d’Amboise, and were fortunate in having a good long audience  from him. We had translated the intercepted letter of Piero da Poggio of Lucca into French, and begged his Eminence to read and examine it, as he would find in it many particulars that would prove to him in the most evident manner that the Lucchese had manifestly acted adversely to his Majesty the king. Seeing that the Cardinal did not care to read it, we began to relate to him some of the main points of the letter, but his Eminence promptly objected, and said that a report from Beaumont and the other captains proved that the Lucchese had never acted adversely to his Majesty, but had served him more effectually, and with a better will, than the Florentines, and more especially in the matter of provisions. To this we replied, that it seemed very strange to us that the Lucchese, with a show of fair words and by the influence of some friends, should prevail over truth itself; that in fact we had always striven to uphold the honor of the king, whilst the conduct of the Lucchese had been directly the reverse, and more especially in the affair of Pisa. We wanted again to submit to his Eminence the translation of the letter mentioned above, but he declined; and when we offered to leave it with him, he cared not to accept it.

On our observing to the Cardinal that we had learnt that the Lucchese ambassadors had been called back to the court, he answered promptly that, not having found them at fault in any way, he deemed it proper to have them recalled. His Eminence then began to tell us that, when Corcou was at Florence, he had made known to your Lordships how favorably the king was disposed towards our republic, and most particularly in relation to the matter of Pisa; and then he complained that your Lordships had been reluctant to take any measures for the success of that enterprise; and, further, that you had been unwilling, or cared not, to have his Majesty’s troops in garrison within the Florentine territory; and, moreover, that you had refused to pay what was due to the Swiss, although it was provided in their engagement that they should have pay for their return home; and, finally, his Eminence charged the ill success of the expedition against Pisa entirely to our short-comings. To these charges we replied, first, that our republic was exhausted by the many protracted wars, and, moreover, that the people of Florence could not and ought not to have any confidence in such ill-disciplined troops, who had shown themselves  so ill disposed towards our republic. His Eminence answered the same as he had done on a former occasion, that, besides the insufficient measures taken by the Florentines, they were not even united amongst themselves. We expressed our astonishment that he should hold such an opinion, which was altogether erroneous. The Cardinal said that he had been so informed by all the Frenchmen who had been at Florence. We assured him that they could not have heard or known anything of the kind, as our republic was perfectly united upon all important matters, and most particularly in the desire to recover Pisa, as was proved by the energetic measures adopted in raising and sending the money required for that purpose, and which could only be obtained by the concurrence of two thirds of all the citizens of Florence. We begged his Eminence to reflect well upon the character of the individuals who had made such statements to him, as also upon the nature of the things reported to him. As to the pay of the Swiss, we observed that your Lordships were not bound to pay them, for they had not performed the service required of them, and had refused to mount guard or stand sentinel, and, moreover, had nearly all disbanded. To which the Cardinal replied that your Lordships ought to pay them; for if you did not, the king would have to do it with his own means, which would make him greatly dissatisfied with your conduct. Respecting the complaint that the enterprise failed in consequence of your short-comings, we recalled to him very briefly the disorders that had broken out in camp, and closed by saying that, if his Majesty had not been informed that a great part of the wagons had been stolen, and the remainder badly distributed, then the truth had been studiously withheld from him. We urged again that we had come here prepared to submit to the strictest investigation, for the purpose of proving the truth that your Lordships had always supplied abundance of everything that was needed. His Eminence answered by declaring any further discussion useless, and that he was astonished at your Lordships’ unwillingness to do anything to recommence the enterprise, and at the proposition that the king should restore Pisa to you at his own expense. We expressed at once our conviction that your Lordships intended to do your duty in the matter to the utmost extent of your ability; but since the late attempt had resulted in the manner known to his Eminence, it  was not to be wondered at that the republic of Florence, fed so long with vain hopes, should mistrust the future, and that consequently she lacked men and money to undertake a fresh enterprise; but that it was a small matter for his Majesty the king to make so inconsiderable a war at his own expense, provided only that in the end he was victorious, which could not fail to be the case, especially when it became known that the enterprise was carried on absolutely in his Majesty’s name and at his expense; for that would keep any of our neighbors or enemies from venturing to interfere at the risk of offending his Majesty. We concluded by saying to his Eminence, that, if the king would assume the enterprise from the beginning as his own, it would not only be more easy, but most certain of success; that it would redound more to the honor of his Majesty, and would give greater satisfaction to your Lordships, and really without any burden of expense to his Majesty, as it was always your intention to reimburse the king, in strict accordance with the treaty stipulations, immediately upon the restitution to them of the city of Pisa.

All these arguments produced no effect upon his Eminence, who constantly replied that the king would never agree to such a proposition. Robertet also told us, that such a proposition on the part of your Lordships seemed almost as if made in derision of the king, and that his Majesty was so dissatisfied and ill content with your disposition that really he did not see any person at court who, under the circumstances, could remain your friends, or could support your interests. Subsequently we stated to his Eminence that, in addition to the other causes that discouraged the people of Florence, was the non-restitution of Pietrasanta, which was now in his Majesty’s possession. To which he replied, that he had informed Pietro Soderini that the reason of this non-restitution was a promise made to the Lucchese not to restore Pietrasanta to your Lordships until after the taking of Pisa. We said that of all others that was precisely the reason that induced the Lucchese to put every obstacle in the way of our recovering Pisa; and, moreover, that his Majesty the king had obligated himself to restore Pietrasanta to your hands before ever he made any promise to the Lucchese, and that the first pledge and obligation ought to have precedence. His Eminence assured us that all of his Majesty’s obligations would be fulfilled, provided your Lordships  would do their duty in recovering Pisa; but if you would not, then the king would hold you responsible.

We asked his Eminence to obtain from the king the authorization and letters to Messer Giovanni Bentivogli, so that he may come to your aid with his men-at-arms and infantry, as requested by your Lordships. He said that he would do it with pleasure, and has ordered the letters asked for to be written; and so soon as we receive them we will forward them to your Lordships, to whom we humbly recommend ourselves.

Servitores

Francesco della Casa,
Niccolo Machiavelli.

Montargis,

11 August, 1500

Niccolo Machiavelli

12 August, 1500

Montargis

LETTER VIII.

Magnificent Signori: —

Uncertain whether your Lordships have received the previous letters which I have addressed to you on my own account, I venture once more to write to your Lordships, so as not to be wanting to myself in the straits in which I am. At our departure from Florence, your Lordships assigned to Francesco della Casa eight lire per day, and only four lire to me. I doubt not that your Lordships had good reasons for doing so, but that you did not suppose that things would happen as they have done. Now you must know, Magnificent Signori, that I follow the court at my own expense, and that in every way I am obliged to spend just as much as Francesco. I therefore entreat your Lordships either to accord to me the same salary as Francesco, or that you will recall me, so that I may not impoverish myself, which I am sure cannot be your Lordships’ wish. I have already spent forty ducats of my own, and have given orders on my brother Totto for seventy ducats more. Again I recommend myself most earnestly to your Lordships.

Servitor humilissimus

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Montargis,

12 August, 1500

Francesco della Casa

Niccolo Machiavelli

12 August, 1500

Montargis

LETTER IX.

Magnificent Signori: —

We had not yet sent off the enclosed, which is in part a copy of one of our previous letters, when we received by the courier Bolognino, who had been sent by Nasi to Lyons, your Lordships’ last letters of 5th instant, with two enclosures, the one for his Most Christian Majesty, and the other for his Eminence the Cardinal d’Amboise; also copies of your correspondence with Corcou and Beaumont; also the deposition of the witnesses in relation to the Lucchese. After carefully reading and examining them all, we called at once upon the Cardinal, his Majesty the king having left three hours before to hunt some three leagues from here, whence, according to what some persons say, he is going about seven leagues farther to a property belonging to the Grand Admiral, to remain some days for his pleasure, after which he will return here. It is difficult, however, to get at the exact truth, owing to the natural uncertainties of the court.

After presenting ourselves before his Eminence the Cardinal, we handed him the letters from your Lordships, and informed him that you had advised us of your having sent commissioners towards Pescia, to arrange with Corcou and the other captains for the distribution of the quarters to the men-at-arms of his Majesty on Florentine territory; adding, so far as circumstances would permit, such remarks as seemed to us suitable to make this matter more acceptable to him; for we found him closely engaged with Monseigneur d’Alby. We have stated in the enclosed how his Eminence had spoken to us, at our interview with him yesterday, of the answer which Corcou had reported as having been made to him by your Lordships, and how he had complained to him of the want of confidence which we had shown him, as well as of many other things, all which we have reported in the enclosed. We deemed it proper to say in reply to his Eminence, that Corcou had doubtless misinterpreted your Lordships’ reply, since you had proposed that the men-at-arms should be quartered in a healthy locality upon Pisan territory, whence they could press the Pisans closely; and where they would be amply supplied with everything, and would in all respects be well cared for by your Lordships; and  that you had always left it to Corcou to decide what course to pursue, he being better acquainted with the king’s will than any one else. His Eminence seemed well satisfied with your having sent commissioners for assigning quarters to the men-at-arms; nevertheless, he intimated to us that he expected letters from the captains upon this matter, and that they would undoubtedly go fully into details on this subject. And as to our suggestion respecting Corcou’s having misinterpreted the reply, etc., and that consequently he could not make it fairly known here, his Eminence manifested some displeasure, saying that Corcou was a man of honor and sagacity, and greatly beloved by the king on account of his good qualities. We found no difficulty in removing this little irritation by assuring his Eminence that your Lordships had an equally good opinion of Corcou, but that even a man of honor and intelligence might easily misunderstand a matter of that kind. His Eminence admitted this; nevertheless he deferred his final judgment until he should have received the next letters from Corcou and the other captains.

After that, we broached the Lucchese business and the testimony of the witnesses given in presence of the king’s officers. We pointed out to his Eminence that this examination had been made with all due solemnity, and that the evidence was of a character that left no doubt as to the perfidy of the Lucchese, and of the aid given by them to the Pisans; so that the king might without hesitation restore Pietrasanta to our hands, even if he had to make more account of the obligation which he had contracted with the Lucchese than of that which he had concluded with your Lordships, — which, however, could not and ought not in reason to be done. And holding this deposition of the witnesses in our hands, we wanted to submit it to his Eminence, who however declined to look at it, and repeated to us the same language he had used the day before, and which we have reported to your Lordships in the enclosed; namely, that Beaumont and all the other captains affirmed the very contrary of what we had stated; and that we, being a party concerned, ought not to be believed; and that, even if the aforementioned captains had in their letters confirmed and justified our statements, the Lucchese ought certainly to be made sensible of the error of their conduct, but that your simple averment was not sufficient.

Thus your Lordships see what foundations you will require if you wish to build up anything good and solid in relation to this affair. It seems to us that in this as in all other matters which we may have to attend to here, for the purpose of satisfying the king or of serving your interests, we shall have to depend entirely upon the reports made by the captains; so that it is of the utmost importance to dispose these officers favorably to your Lordships. The contrary might be very prejudicial to your interests, as the experience with regard to Pietrasanta will prove to your Lordships; for it has not been of the least service for us to meet all the objections to its restoration to us, or to demonstrate that the investigation and examination of witnesses was authentic, and resulted from a public act made in due form. In fact, all that we could say, and all the proofs we could adduce, led to no other conclusion than what we have reported to your Lordships.

We did not deem it well to speak to his Eminence in relation to the pay of the artillery and of the Swiss, nor did he ever say anything to us about it; but the very first time that he mentions these matters, which we believe will be very soon, we shall reply in accordance with your Lordships’ latest instructions. Nothing else occurs to us in response to your letters. It is said that his Eminence intends leaving here to-morrow to join the king, and that both will then return here. We shall not lose sight of his Eminence, and shall govern ourselves in our dealings with him according to circumstances, and as events may suggest.

Although it may seem presumptuous for us to speak of matters here, having but so recently come here, yet we shall write to your Lordships all we can learn of any interest, trusting that you will pardon us if our information should in some instances not prove entirely correct. His Majesty’s court here is very small compared with that of his predecessor; and of this small number one third are Italians, which is ascribed to the fact that the distribution of favors is not as abundant as the courtiers could desire. The Italians are all dissatisfied, some for one reason, some for another, beginning with Messer Gianjacopo, who seems to think that he is not treated with the consideration due to his reputation. He makes no secret of this to any one, for, happening to meet him the other day in church, and knowing his disposition of old, we entered into  conversation with him; and when we touched upon the Pisan business he expressed himself in terms of great affection towards us, and laid all the blame of that failure upon the French, adding in a formal manner the following words: “In saying that errors were committed by all parties, the French attempt to make others share the responsibility of the faults which were exclusively their own.”

We shall say nothing of the other Milanese, for they all seem to think the same as their chief. The Neapolitans here, of whom a good many are banished from their own country, despairing of the renewal of an attempt upon Pisa, are in the highest degree dissatisfied; for, according to common report, both the king and queen are opposed to their projects. True his Majesty the king was quite ready for another expedition, but since the Pisan affair proved a failure, he is not quite so anxious for it; for he had counted that, Pisa once taken, he would be able, with the money obtained from your Lordships, and with the help offered him by the Pope and the Orsini, and above all by the influence of his own reputation, to push his army at once against Naples. But as the Pisan affair had quite a different result from what he anticipated, he is more disposed to listen to terms of accommodation than to engage in a new enterprise; and there are already rumors that Neapolitan ambassadors are already on the way for that purpose.

The Venetian ambassador solicits the king’s aid against the Turk, pointing out the danger to which they are exposed, and alleging the loss already of a good many places, and altogether exaggerating the alarm and danger far beyond what it is supposed to be in reality; but up to the present he has not succeeded in obtaining any encouragement.

It is said that the Pope also asks his Majesty’s support most urgently in his attempt to take Faenza, with the view of adding that place to Furli and Imola for his son, the Duke Valentino; but the king does not seem disposed to do anything for him, deeming that he has already done enough for his Holiness. Nevertheless, he does not deprive him of all hope, and goes on encouraging the same as he has always done; whilst the Venetians and some other persons of the court do all they can to encourage the Lord of Faenza. There is moreover an emissary of Vitellozzo’s here, who spreads reports everywhere of the damage which Vitellozzo will shortly inflict upon your Lordships,  whenever the Pope or any other power shall declare war against Florence. This individual is constantly on the lookout for some dissension between his Majesty the king and your Lordships, that will permit him to push on his intrigues; and he intimates that the Pope would really be more disposed to favor Vitellozzo’s projects than the attempt upon Faenza, if he could be convinced that the court here would countenance it.

There is nothing else going on here worthy of your Lordships’ attention, unless it be the rumor that his Majesty, accompanied by a few persons of the court, will devote himself for a few days to hunting and other pleasures. Nothing more is heard of the Ambassador of the Empire, who was to have had an interview with his Majesty at Troyes; and it is said even that he will not come at all. It is also reported as a positive fact that the Archduke has been made a Prince of Spain, which gives force to the suspicion that it will not be so easy to come to terms with the Emperor, and that his Majesty the king will think less of an attempt upon Naples.

There is here in the house of the Pope’s ambassador, a certain Messer Astorre from Sienna; and so far as we have been able to find out, he is kept there by Pandolfo Petrucci. It is said that he openly expresses the confident hope of arranging the Pisan business, and on better terms even than what could have been done some time ago; adding that Montepulciano and its territory will remain theirs. We shall take the greatest pains to discover this intrigue, and if we find that there is really some truth in it we will make it a point to remind the Cardinal of our treaties, and of the honor of the king.

There is not a single Florentine merchant here, nor any other person of whom we could avail ourselves to procure us either money, of which we stand in great need, or to despatch couriers, or forward our letters. Your Lordships will hold us excused, therefore, if you do not receive communications from us as promptly and as often as you could desire. It is important, so long as we are kept here, that your Lordships should provide for this service in such manner as you may deem best; for even before leaving Lyons we had already spent all the money we had received from your Lordships, so that at present  we are living upon our own means, and upon what our friends at Lyons could furnish us. We recommend ourselves to your Lordships’ good graces.

We had not yet closed this letter, when news came that his Majesty, in running his horse this morning, had a fall, and has injured one of his shoulders. All his equipages have been sent back here, and he himself is expected to-morrow. In our next we will further report upon the consequences of this accident, and again recommend ourselves to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Servitores

Francesco della Casa,
Niccolo Machiavelli.

Montargis,

12 August, 1500

P. S. — Deeming this letter of importance, and having no other means of sending it, we have sent Bolognino back to Lyons, and directed this letter to the care of Nasi, who will forward it to your Lordships, and whom we have instructed to pay Bolognino seven scudi. We beg your Lordships will have this amount reimbursed to him, so that we may have credit with him on future occasions.

Die qua in literis, etc., etc.

Francesco della Casa

Niccolo Machiavelli

14 August, 1500

Montargis

LETTER X.

Magnificent Signori: —

Two days since we wrote at length to your Lordships advising you of the receipt of your letters and instructions of the 5th instant, and rendering an account of all we have done here up to that time. To insure the safe arrival of that despatch we sent it by an express, to whom we promised seven scudi for that service. It does not seem necessary, therefore, to repeat now what we reported in that communication. Up to the present we have not been able to deliver your Lordships’ letter to his Majesty the king, who, as we have already informed you, met with an accident whilst running his horse in hunting. The horse fell on him and sprained his Majesty’s shoulder, causing him a good deal of pain, so that he has been obliged to remain at a little village some six miles from here, where  we believe he lies still confined to his room and bed. It seems certain, however, that this accident has had no other bad consequences, and that his Majesty intends to return here within a couple of days. Meantime, letters ought to arrive from Corcou and Beaumont respecting the Lucchese affair. We shall endeavor to learn the nature of the report they may have on this matter, and shall do what we may judge for the best in relation thereto.

We recommend ourselves to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Servitores

Francesco della Casa,
Niccolo Machiavelli.

Montargis,

14 August, 1500

Francesco della Casa

Niccolo Machiavelli

26 August, 1500

Melun

LETTER XI.

Magnificent Signori: —

Since our last of the 12th from Montargis, we wrote very briefly on the 14th, but have no letters to acknowledge from your Lordships since the one of the 5th instant. His Majesty the king has been obliged, in consequence of his fall, to remain ever since at some of the small villages along the road here. At first he had to remain quiet in bed, after which he had himself carried in a litter, so that it was only yesterday that he was well enough to return here, although his shoulder is not yet entirely well, but has to be kept bandaged. The whole court is now here, the Maréchal de Gye, the Admiral, and the Grand Chancellor having arrived, together with many other lords. We have presented ourselves several times within the past few days before his Majesty, and have not failed to call at least every other day upon his Eminence the Cardinal d’Amboise, in whatever place he happened to be at the time; although we did not care much to speak to him for some days past, knowing that he was not well pleased because the men-at-arms were not in garrison on Florentine territory. But having been informed by your Lordships’ last letters that you had sent commissioners to Pescia to receive those troops, we hope they have succeeded in quartering them on Florentine territory, and that this act of your Lordships has so gratified  the captains of these troops, that they will have sent more favorable reports from there than what they have done hitherto. It was in this hope that at any moment letters might arrive from these captains expressive of their satisfaction, which would placate the king and the Cardinal, that we thought it best for a day or two not to press our own business, feeling convinced that had we done so we should, as usual, have received an unfavorable reply and unsatisfactory conclusions.

In a conversation which we have since had with Robertet, however, we learned that the men-at-arms were this side of Pontremoli, and refused to return to Pisa; and that his Majesty the king was much dissatisfied with your Lordships, and that there was no chance for your friends to say anything in your favor.

We expressed our astonishment at this assertion, after your Lordships’ letter of the 5th, and said that the refusal of the troops to return to Pisa could in no way be laid to your charge, and that before pronouncing such a judgment matters ought to be thoroughly understood; but all we could say was of no use, and Robertet persisted in his opinion that the fault lay with your Lordships, and added some very unpleasant expressions as to dissensions existing amongst your Lordships, and intimating that there was a party in Florence who wanted the return of Piero de’ Medici, and not Pisa, — words not to be disregarded as coming from the mouth of a secretary of state. We said all we possibly could, and which was not a little, to refute this assertion, but it produced no effect upon him. During this conversation Robertet pointed out to us a Pisan who happened to pass at that moment, and who has been a long while in France, but whom we have never seen since. We do not know by whom he is specially protected, unless it be that he enjoys the favor of all your enemies here, and they are more numerous than your friends. It is quite possible that this individual has returned to Pisa charged with some fresh intrigue. We shall do our best to find out, and will then promptly inform your Lordships.

Since this conversation with Robertet we had an interview with D’Amboise, now six days ago, and found him of the same mind as regards his unwillingness to engage in a fresh war, and as to the pay of the Swiss, and the refusal to receive the men-at-arms. It was of no use for us to attempt to refute  these charges, which we had already done so often; for he came back immediately to the Swiss whom his Majesty the king had been obliged to pay out of his own resources. And thus we parted from his Eminence, without being able to get anything more from him.

As already stated, his Majesty has returned here now with all the court, and by a singular coincidence Corcou arrived here on the same day. So soon as we heard of his arrival, we thought it important to have an interview with him before presenting ourselves again before D’Amboise, so as to learn Corcou’s opinions, and judge therefrom in what manner to approach his Eminence again. Accordingly we called upon Corcou and assured him that your Lordships had the most entire confidence in him, and that you hoped that he had made a good report as to your Lordships’ favorable disposition and attachment to his Majesty the king; adding all we thought proper to incline him favorably to us.

He replied that he was well affectioned to your Lordships on account of the great honor which you had shown him; but that he could not say anything else to his Majesty than the official answer to him of your Lordships, and what you had communicated to him in writing. He dwelt particularly upon the payment of the Swiss, saying that the king had been greatly displeased at having been obliged to pay them out of his own purse. Having replied to this in the same way in which we had before met this charge, he accused the Swiss of gross brutality, and attributed their dishonesty to their habits; but soon returned to his first complaint, that the king had been obliged to pay them. He then added, that you had never been willing to receive the men-at-arms in garrison on Florentine territory, although these troops had been specially asked for from his Majesty by your Lordships’ ambassadors, and complained that he himself had made a useless voyage to Florence on that account. And when we said in reply, that your Lordships had never refused quarters to the king’s men-at-arms, but had hesitated only as regards the infantry, in consequence of the experience you had had with them, he said that it could not reasonably be expected that men-at-arms would go into quarters on foreign territory without infantry, and that fifteen hundred infantry ought not to have caused your Lordships any apprehensions; but that the real cause of all  the difficulties was the want of unity in Florence, where one party wanted Pisa, and the other party did not want it.

As this opinion seemed to have been generally disseminated at court, and was calculated to produce very bad effects, we made every possible effort to refute it, and to eradicate it from Corcou’s mind by the fullest and most earnest arguments, even to saying to him that such a statement exposed him to have his sound judgment called into question. We almost succeeded in convincing him, or at any rate we thought that we had produced a good effect upon him. But we must not omit to tell your Lordships that in the course of this discussion Corcou said: “What has lost you Pisa is, that you did not spend some eight or ten thousand ducats amongst all these lords and captains. In similar affairs, you must keep your money-bags open; for in that way you spend but once, whilst otherwise you spend six times.”

After leaving Corcou we resolved to speak with the Cardinal d’Amboise, and took occasion to call upon his Eminence, to whom we said that now, since Corcou had arrived, both his Majesty the king and his Eminence must have heard from him how things had happened; as also your Lordships’ good disposition towards his Majesty and his men-at-arms, and likewise the bad conduct of the others, and especially that of the Lucchese. His Eminence interrupted our remarks abruptly, and said: “Yes, we have heard everything, and, by my faith, until now I have always done you all the good I possibly could; but now, since your conduct is so bad, I really know not what more to do for you; and his Majesty thinks it very strange that he should be obliged to pay the Swiss for your Lordships.” We replied, that, if his Eminence would listen to our justification, he, as well as his Majesty the king, would find that our republic had always done her duty in all respects; and that the refusal to resume the war against Pisa resulted from the impossibility of doing so, to which the republic found herself reduced, partly because she was overwhelmed and exhausted, and partly from the lack of confidence in the army, which on every occasion had manifested hostility rather than friendship for our republic. We then spoke of the payment of the Swiss, to which the king seemed to attach more importance than to all else, and said that this matter might be adjusted in a reasonable manner, if his Eminence would favor us with his  aid and advice. To which he replied: “Neither that nor any other means can now arrange your difficulties in a way that would be satisfactory.” We reiterated our entreaties that his Eminence would not withhold his protection from your Lordships without reason; and not by such words to discourage a people who had always been faithful friends of France, and who had suffered, and in such various ways, for that devotion, that they merited commendation and support rather than disfavor and discouragement, which would only benefit those who wished no good to his Eminence, and still less to his Majesty the king of France. For what could the other peoples of Italy hope for from his Majesty when his devoted friends, the Florentines, who had spent and suffered so much on his account, were treated so badly by his Majesty?

We concluded by saying that your Lordships were more willing and better disposed than ever to render any service and pleasure to the crown of France. To all this the Cardinal replied that these were mere words, and that he had no confidence in all our arguments, and was in short extremely dissatisfied with your Lordships; and this was said by him so loud that all the bystanders could hear it; and thereupon he immediately mounted his horse to follow his pleasure.

The reason of our not yet having had an audience of the king, nor presented your Lordships’ letter, was the accident which his Majesty had, on account of which he refrained for some days from all business, and remained for his pleasure in some villages in the woods, and in other places, where no lodgings could be had for any one else; and since his return here we thought it might seem inopportune to present your Lordships’ letter. His Majesty is constantly and closely surrounded by a few persons, except when he rides out, so that it is difficult to find a convenient moment for approaching him; and all business is devolved upon the Cardinal d’Amboise. We shall, nevertheless, watch the first opportunity of speaking to his Majesty, and will endeavor, in as suitable a manner as the occasion may permit, to impress him most efficiently with your Lordships’ devotion and good will towards him, and to efface from his mind whatever unfavorable opinion he may have formed in consequence of the reported dissensions and want of unity amongst the Florentines that have reached his Majesty’s ears from various sources; and of the result your Lordships shall be duly informed.

The letter of license for Messer Giovanni Bentivogli has not yet been prepared, nor have we asked for it again; for when this matter was touched upon in our conversation with Robertet, we asked whether his Eminence of Amboise had ordered the letter to be written, he replied, that he had not; and that the Cardinal did not intend to have it done; and that, if we would speak to him ourselves on the subject, we would find that he had changed his mind. We therefore deemed it best to say nothing about it now to D’Amboise, as your Lordships have yet to decide whether you will receive the French men-at-arms in garrison, for his Eminence might have formed an erroneous conjecture as to your Lordships’ intentions, and might suppose that you preferred to employ Italian troops instead of French. We shall not renew the request without further instructions.

Nor have we said anything about Pietrasanta; for the answer we received upon that point, and which we have communicated to your Lordships, discouraged us from bringing this matter up again. We are constantly after Corcou, trying to induce him to serve us in this matter, as the investigation that had been ordered to be made on the spot was made in his presence; also to see whether we can, with the assistance of Robertet, who has much influence over him in this as well as in other matters, obtain any advantageous results. We shall do our best to that effect, although the ambassador from Lucca has returned, and has been well received. All this comes from knowing how to acquire amicos de mammona iniquitatis, whilst your Lordships believe that you need no other help but justice and reason, etc.

We have had a long conference with the Grand Chancellor, and related to him the entire course of things, and how the whole Pisan affair occurred; we also told him of your Lordships’ offer for recovering the honor of the king’s troops, and for repairing the damage which you had suffered, and the reasons why you could do no more. His Lordship was very glad to see us, and listened most graciously to all we had to say. But as to the last point he remarked that he could say nothing except that his Majesty would certainly fulfil the promise he had made to furnish us the men-at-arms; but as to restoring Pisa to our possession, that depended altogether upon fortune, and therefore his Majesty could make no promise upon that  point. But he added that, whenever opportunity occurred, he would always favor our cause the same as he had ever done in the past. We begged him to continue the same good will towards our republic, and said that your Lordships regarded him as a real benefactor, etc. We have had an interview with this minister since then, during which he told us that he had not yet had an opportunity to speak with his Majesty in relation to our business; but this did not seem likely, and we believe that he did not wish to make any other answer, having found his Majesty not well disposed towards your Lordships.

We shall endeavor to see his Lordship again, and shall not fail in our duty, sparing no effort, regardless of either fatigue or discomfort; and if we do not accomplish anything, it will be because we cannot or know not how, in which case we hope your Lordships will hold us excused.

Your Lordships’ letters recommending Bartolommeo Ginori have been received by us and presented to his Majesty, who had already made him come to court and ordered the marshals to hear his complaints, and to have justice done him. Yesterday Bartolommeo appeared before them, and they took him from the hands of Talaru and placed him in those of the king. We shall do what we can for him, and shall employ what credit we may yet have here in his behalf, and believe that we may hope for a good result.

Nothing more is said about the treaty between his Majesty and Pandolfo Petrucci. We believe the reason of this is that it is no longer desired.

Two days ago an ambassador from the Swiss arrived here in relation to the matter of Bellinzona. He had a long audience, but the result is not yet known.

It is also said that his Majesty the king has concluded a truce with the Emperor, to last until next March; and although some personage of importance speaks of it as really true, yet we hear on the other hand that it is doubted by many; thus we can neither affirm nor deny it.

We recommend ourselves to the good graces of your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Servitores

Francesco della Casa,
Niccolo Machiavelli.

Melun,

26 August, 1500

Francesco della Casa

Niccolo Machiavelli

27 August, 1500

Melun

LETTER XII.

Magnificent Signori: —

From our preceding letters your Lordships will have seen the condition of our affairs here; and our latest despatch will have informed you that his Majesty is not at all satisfied with your Lordships, particularly upon two points to which he attaches most importance. The first is your having refused to resume the war against Pisa, and the second, your not having paid the Swiss. To these may be added a third, which to some extent is also deemed important, and that is your refusal to receive French troops in garrison. Whenever either of these subjects is discussed, it gives rise to complaints in such manner and terms as we have already made known to your Lordships. And although all these matters could easily be explained, as your Lordships have endeavored to do at Florence with Corcou, and as we in compliance with your orders have striven to do here, yet we are never listened to when opportunity occurs for us to speak on these subjects; nor do we see any chance for bettering this state of things, unless something quite unforeseen should occur. For as to the first point, we do not believe that his Majesty will ever assume the entire burden of a fresh war; the reason for our thinking so is, first, the king’s indisposition to send money; and secondly, his whole conduct hitherto with regard to the affairs of Italy, being ever anxious to draw all he can from this country, but never willing to spend anything there, seeming to attach more importance to immediate profit than to ultimate results. This causes his Majesty to attach little importance to what your Lordships offer him after he shall have taken Pisa; so that when his Majesty was spoken to on that point he treated it as a jest. And there is the more reason to believe that he will not do it, as (you may venture nineteen sous to a lira) peace will either be made with Naples, or the new enterprise will be deferred for a long time to come, which would cause his Majesty to think no more of the fifty thousand florins, etc., etc. And there are several grounds for looking upon such a peace as probable; first, the will of the queen, who is said to be most favorably inclined to it, and, according to report, spares no pains to bring it about; and it is also said that the majority of the council is of the same mind,  deeming the conquest difficult, and the maintaining it still more so, referring to the experience of the past, as well as to other reasons which your Lordships will readily find out. It is, moreover, supposed that such an attempt might arouse the Turk, who certainly would oppose it most determinately; and that the apprehension of the loss of Naples would induce the Emperor and the Empire to take measures such as even the conquest of Milan did not cause them to take. For King Frederick constantly keeps ambassadors near his Majesty, who fears the war and earnestly desires peace. These imperial ambassadors have not yet come to Troyes, and when they do come, it is understood that their demands will be so great that they will not be acceded to.

Your Lordships will have heard that the king of Spain has raised troops for the purpose of supporting King Frederick, and that he has created the Archduke a Prince, all of which facts indicate the same purpose. And then comes his Majesty’s aversion to spending money, and his extreme prudence, which makes him move very slowly in all doubtful matters. Moreover, his Majesty has seen lately, in the case of Pisa, that where force is necessary neither chalk nor reputation will suffice; and that, if he found the enterprise in itself difficult, the help of the Turk or of others would render it next to impossible, and would expose him to the risk of being obliged to withdraw in a manner that would be anything but honorable for him, and expose him to the loss of all his possessions in Italy; being unable to support such heavy expenses for so long a time, or to be disastrously defeated.

But even if all this were not true, or had not been properly understood, or still worse explained, which is quite possible, yet this much is true beyond all question, — that the secretary of Naples is here and labors incessantly to bring about a peace. And if once they listen to any one here who promises and gives, it is difficult not to believe that they will take what is offered. Thus to return to our own matter. Even if such a peace be one of the things that will be, or if the enterprise against Pisa is to be deferred for a long time to come, which we leave to your  Lordships’ wisdom to decide, the fifty thousand florins are not likely to influence the king to engage in that enterprise for his own account. If, therefore, your Lordships’ views on this point are not changed, his Majesty of France cannot remain satisfied; and we are rather apprehensive, from some remarks made by the Cardinal d’Amboise and by Robertet, lest his Majesty, for the purpose of repairing the honor of his arms, attempt some measure adverse to your interests and necessities.

As to the payment of the Swiss, which seems to be the thing that irritates his Majesty the most, and the refusal to receive the French troops in garrison, we have made such answer as we have stated in the enclosed, and which has been accepted, as the enclosed will also inform your Lordships. According to our judgment your Lordships ought to satisfy the demands of the Swiss, or you will have to think how you will defend yourselves against the anger which his Majesty will feel against you; and which, in our opinion, will increase of itself, and from being fomented and kept alive by your enemies. Nor must your Lordships imagine that well-digested letters or arguments will be of service in the matter, for they are not even listened to. It is idle to recall to the French here the good faith with which our republic has always acted towards the crown of France, or the services rendered to some of her former sovereigns, or the large sums of money which we have spent and the dangers we have borne on their account, and how many times we have in return been fed by them with vain hopes; or to point to more recent occurrences, and to the ruinous damage which our republic suffered in consequence; or what his Majesty might still count upon from you if you were strong, and what security your power and greatness would give to his Majesty’s possessions in Italy, and how it would insure the good faith of the other Italian states. But it is all useless, for they hold a very different language about all these things from what you do, and view them with another eye altogether from that of persons who are not of this court; for they are blinded by their power and their immediate advantage, and have consideration only for those who are either well armed, or who are prepared to pay. It is this that does your Lordships so much harm, for they imagine you lacking both these qualifications. As regards the first point of being well armed, they see that ordinarily you are without troops. And as to the second, namely, the question of their own  advantage, they have given up all hope, for they believe that you consider yourselves as having been badly served by them, and that you have lost all confidence in them in consequence of their conduct in the late affair of Pisa. They call you Ser Nihilo (Signor Nothing), and baptize your inability discord amongst yourselves; and the ill conduct of their troops they ascribe to your bad government. And this opinion is gaining ground, according to our judgment, in consequence of the departure of your ambassadors from here, and the fact that nothing is heard of the coming of new ones, which they charge to our want of union, or to a wish on our part to alienate ourselves from them entirely. We therefore beg your Lordships, with all due respect, to give attention to this, and to think of remedying it seasonably; for our mission here is evidently not agreeable to them, and our rank and quality insufficient to save a sinking cause. But if your Lordships really desire to maintain your relations with this court, then we deem it absolutely indispensable for you to send fresh ambassadors here. At the same time, we beg you to understand distinctly that they will be of little use, unless they come with instructions to pay the Swiss, and with means enough to make friends; for there is no one here that does not understand his own interests, or who has not managed to secure for himself some patron to whom he can resort when occasion requires. In truth, your Lordships are the only ones who have deprived yourselves of such support; and even the king’s friendship for you, as well as that of the Cardinal, needs to be sustained if you desire to preserve it; for it has been shaken in various ways by your many enemies, as well as by the ill fortune of our republic. But under any circumstances, and however they may come, we hold the sending of ambassadors here as indispensable, if you desire to advance your cause here in any way.

Meantime we beg your Lordships to be pleased to instruct us as to the course which we shall pursue, and what attitude we shall assume in relation to that point which seems to us so important and delicate, and which demands a prompt remedy. Valete!

Servitores

Francesco della Casa,
Niccolo Machiavelli.

Melun,

27 August, 1500

Francesco della Casa

Niccolo Machiavelli

29 August, 1500

Melun

LETTER XIII.

Magnificent Signori: —

When your predecessors first decided upon sending us here, in the belief that we should find his Majesty the king at Lyons, and your ambassadors near him, they provided us with just sufficient means to execute our commission, and return to Florence in a few days; and it was more particularly to me, Francesco, that the Signori said that we were not to remain here. The very opposite, however, has happened. In the first instance, we found that the king had already left Lyons; and then, being denuded of everything, we were obliged to incur the expense of supplying ourselves in two days with such horses as we could find, to provide ourselves with clothing, and to hire servants. And, without the advantage of travelling in the company of ambassadors, we had to follow the court, and continue to follow it still at an expense of one half more than we should have needed to incur if the court had been at Lyons. It would have been a great relief to us if we had been in the company of ambassadors; for as it is, we are obliged to keep two more servants. We do not live in hostelries, but in private houses, where we have to supply all the provisions and other necessaries, and have the cooking done ourselves. And besides, there are always other extraordinary expenses, such as quartermasters, porters, and couriers, etc., etc., which altogether make up a sum which in our position is very heavy for us. Being thus under the necessity of applying to your Lordships for assistance, we have deemed it proper to inform you of the particulars of our situation; and therefore beg your Lordships most respectfully and confidently to take into consideration, first, that with the salary allowed us of eight lire per day for each, it is impossible for us to supply our wants without adding a portion of our own means. Your Lordships will also bear in mind that at our departure from Florence each of us received only eighty lire, of which we each spent thirty lire for our voyage to Lyons, and having there to provide ourselves with horses, clothing, and other necessaries, we were obliged to borrow money from our friends to enable us to resume our route, and after having spent that, we have been forced to recur to Paris for further loans from others. And if these  should fail us before your Lordships order funds to be sent to us, we shall suddenly find ourselves without money and without credit, and your Lordships may judge of the situation in which we should then find ourselves placed.

We therefore entreat your Lordships, most humbly, to send without delay sufficient means for our necessities during the time that your Lordships may determine that either one or both of us shall remain here in your service. Your Lordships will bear in mind that we have neither the means nor the credit of our own that would permit us, like so many other ambassadors, to maintain ourselves here for months, or even weeks, without receiving the means of subsistence from your Lordships, to whom we recommend ourselves.

Servitores

Francesco della Casa,
Niccolo Machiavelli.

Melun,

29 August, 1500

Francesco della Casa

Niccolo Machiavelli

3 September, 1500

Melun

LETTER XIV.

Magnificent Signori: —

To-day is the 2d of September, and we have not yet despatched the enclosed, being unwilling to send them at a venture, and yet unable to despatch them by a special messenger, such is the penury to which our ordinary mode of living has reduced us; and unless your Lordships promptly supply us with means, we shall be compelled to leave here. Our necessary expenses are one scudi and a half per day for each; we have already laid out for clothing, and in establishing ourselves here, more than one hundred scudi each, and are now actually without a single penny, and have in vain attempted to use our credit, public and private. So that your Lordships must excuse us if, in the event of our not receiving funds, we find ourselves obliged to return to Florence; for we prefer being at the discretion of fortune in Italy rather than in France.

Since our writing the enclosed, we hear from all sides, O Magnificent Signori, that his Majesty is greatly dissatisfied with us. The principal reason of this is, that his arms remain  dishonored in Italy on your account, and because he finds, according to the answer given by your Lordships to Corcou, that he will not be able to repair this dishonor at your expense; and moreover he has had to pay thirty thousand francs to the Swiss, and for artillery and other things, out of his private purse; whilst according to the terms of the agreement and the convention concluded at Milan between the Cardinal d’Amboise and Pietro Soderini, all these items should have been paid by your Lordships. His Majesty’s irritation on that account has increased to that degree, that it has encouraged a number of your enemies to propose various measures to his Majesty that would be adverse to your interests and necessities. These propositions have all found favor with the king, so that a few days since it was discussed in council, whether it might not be well to accept the proposition made by the Pisans to surrender, on condition that they should not be subjected to the rule of your Lordships. If this negotiation has not been actually concluded, supported as it is by all the Italians here, it is owing rather to a regard for your Lordships’ rights, which has caused it to remain in suspense, than to the interposition of any friend who may have remained true to you here. For amongst the entire court, since his Majesty’s dissatisfaction with you has become manifest, you have scarcely a single friend left, but everybody seeks to injure your cause to the extent of his power to do so.

Although we were of our own knowledge cognizant of this unfriendly disposition, from the several conferences which we have had with the Cardinal d’ Amboise, as mentioned in our several despatches to your Lordships, yet we have become still more sensible of it from the reports that reach us from all sides; so that if your Lordships do not take measures to correct it, you will find yourselves very soon in such a position with regard to the king, that you will have to think more of protecting and defending your possessions, and even your personal liberty, than of recovering the territory you have lost.

This state of things has been made known to us, amongst others, by Robertet, who is the only person that has remained our friend; but we shall lose him too very soon, unless we sustain his friendship with something more substantial than words. The same with some other gentlemen; and even Messer Gianjacopo Trivulzio called us aside one morning whilst  at court, and said: “I am sorry to see your republic in such imminent danger, for if you do not promptly apply some remedy, you will be obliged to think how to defend yourselves against the anger of the people here; for it is their nature to take very sudden resolves, and they never forgive those whom they have once offended, but will continue rather in their hostility; so look to your interests, and that promptly.” And he said this with much earnestness, so that from all we have seen and heard we cannot doubt but what he spoke from the heart.

We have been cautioned in the same way by others, on whom we can rely, but who were afraid to speak to us in public, fearing lest they should be remarked as being your friends. These have told us, amongst other things, that it had been reported to his Majesty the king that your Lordships had sent ambassadors to the Emperor and to the king of Naples, with offers of money, for the purpose of stirring them up against his Majesty of France; and that his Eminence the Cardinal d’Amboise had several times said that you had broken your word; and that you would yet be forced, to your shame and damage, to repay his Majesty the amount which he had paid to the Swiss.

All these things seemed to us of great moment, and, unless promptly remedied, as calculated to embroil you with his Majesty beyond the chance of reconciliation. We made great efforts, therefore, to have an audience of the Cardinal d’Amboise, where we should be listened to quietly, and with that attention which the case really deserves. Although we have failed thus far to obtain such an audience as we desired, yet we took occasion to meet and converse with his Eminence; and began by complaining of the malice of your Lordships’ enemies, who were not ashamed to defame you to his Majesty beyond all reason, by telling him that you had sent ambassadors to the Emperor and King Frederick with offers of money for the purpose of turning them against him, a proceeding so incredible that we could not believe that either his Majesty or his Eminence would attach the least credence to it; for the long-continued fidelity of your Lordships to his Majesty, as well as the experience which he had had so lately of your good faith, did not deserve that such a calumny should have been believed; but as such a report had reached our ears, we desired to speak to  his Majesty on the subject, more for the purpose of performing our duty than because we believed that you needed such a justification. After that we added, that from the several conversations which we had had with his Eminence, and from what we had heard from various quarters, it appeared that his Majesty the king was dissatisfied with your Lordships, and was engaged in negotiations that did not comport with our friendship and the loyalty which we had always manifested towards the crown of France; that no notice whatever had been given us of these proceedings, at which we were astonished, for we believed that his Majesty ought to have complained in an amicable way of any supposed short-comings on the part of your Lordships, and that he would have spoken his mind openly and freely about it, and would have listened to your Lordships’ explanations; and that if there had really been any remissness of duty on your part, that in such case his Majesty would take every occasion to assert his rights against your Lordships. And therefore we entreated his Eminence to be pleased to tell us what was really going on, and to enlighten us upon those points upon which we had to report to your Lordships.

His Eminence made no answer whatever to the first part of our remarks, as to your having sent ambassadors to the Emperor, etc., but complained at great length that he had been much pained by your Lordships’ conduct, which had deprived him of all means of helping you; for that you had neither been willing to resume the war, nor to receive the French troops in garrison, nor to pay the Swiss; so that his Majesty’s interests as well as his honor had suffered damage in consequence. When we attempted to reply to this, his Eminence added: “We have already heard and know what you would say; we have also seen the answer you have made to Corcou.” And when we urged his Eminence to inform us as to what we ought to write to your Lordships, etc., he said: “Speak to Corcou about it; he happens luckily to be here, and will tell you what is necessary for you to know.”

We therefore went to see Corcou, and he concluded that you must either pay back to his Majesty the thirty-eight thousand francs which he has disbursed on your account, or have him for your enemy forever. And although we said all we could, — that this was unreasonable, and that it would be useless to write this to your Lordships, — yet he remained firm in his  decision. And seeing thus how much importance they attach to this matter, we said that we would write to your Lordships on the subject; and Corcou promised to try and induce the Cardinal d’Amboise to await your Lordships’ reply; and thus we left him.

You see thus, O Magnificent Signori, in what condition our affairs are here; and in our judgment it will really depend upon your answer, whether we shall have the king’s friendship or enmity. Do not imagine that reasons and arguments will be of any avail with him, for they would not be listened to, as we have already explained in the accompanying letters. And so important has it seemed to us to preserve his Majesty’s friendship, that if I, Francesco, had not felt so seriously indisposed that I believed I should be obliged to leave the court for the purpose of taking care of my health, one of us two would have come by the diligence to Florence, to tell you by word of mouth, and so to say to make you touch with your fingers, what we cannot make so plain to you by writing.

We must not omit, however, to tell you, that we learn from a good source that there are intrigues on foot to induce his Majesty to take Pisa for himself after having first caused all its territory to be restored; and to form a state out of it by adding Pietrasanta, Livorno, and Piombino, and in course of time also Lucca, and to establish a governor of his own there; which they think can easily be done and maintained, as a portion of the constituent parts are well disposed for such an arrangement, being contiguous to the state of Milan. They see another advantage in the fact that the Pisans have offered an immediate payment of one hundred thousand francs, contributed by your enemies, and afterwards a regular yearly revenue. This project is furthermore regarded as a step towards the taking of the kingdom of Naples, whenever that attempt shall be made. We believe that this project has its origin with and is being urged by your many enemies, and that it may easily be accomplished because of the king’s dissatisfaction with your Lordships, and because of the immediate advantage which he would derive from it. And moreover, amidst the general hatred of your Lordships, it is supposed that his Majesty can only gain in doing what would be a great injury to you.

In accordance with your Lordships’ wishes, we have written without reserve, and very fully, about matters here, as we see  and understand them; and if we have expressed ourselves too boldly upon any one point, it was because we preferred rather to harm ourselves by thus erring, than not to write, and thereby risk of failing in our duty to our republic. And we have ventured to do so because of our confidence in the wisdom of your Lordships, who, after careful examination of our communications, can form a more correct judgment upon the points in question, and can thus come to a wiser decision.

We beg most respectfully to remind your Lordships of the importance of promptly sending ambassadors here, so that your next despatches may inform us of their coming, and that they may be in time to achieve some good results; for we ourselves can do no more in the business here than what we have done, and have, indeed, played our last stake. Nor would we like to find ourselves present here at the breaking up of a friendship which we have so earnestly solicited, and nursed at such expense, and maintained with so much hopefulness. And until we receive orders from your Lordships that will permit our presenting ourselves at court, we shall avoid all conversation with them upon other points; for having really nothing to tell them, they might think that we are merely mocking them. We shall simply show ourselves, so that they may know that we are here, and that they may call us if there should be occasion for it.

His Eminence, D’Amboise, leaves to-morrow for Rouen, and will remain there some ten or twelve days. It would be well if on his return we could present to him your Lordships’ answer, which we beg you will send to us; and that we may then also be able to say to him that your ambassadors are on the way here, which is so essential.

Messer Giulio Scurcigliato, a Neapolitan, has had a long conversation with his Eminence, the Cardinal, in relation to your Lordships’ affairs, of which we shall say nothing more, as he will write you himself very fully at Florence. Since then we have heard that the truce between the king and the Emperor has been publicly proclaimed at Milan.

We commend ourselves to your Lordships.

Servitores

Francesco della Casa,
Niccolo Machiavelli.

Melun,

3 September, 1500

P. S. — Whilst in the act of sealing this letter, Ugolino came to us to say that a friend of his, who had agreed to co-operate with him in the expediting of our despatches, had changed his mind, so that we were obliged to promise him twenty-five sun scudi. We must therefore beg your Lordships promptly to pay that amount to Giovanni di Niccolo Martelli, so that we may be able to command his services on future occasions, and not be obliged to pay him out of our own means. He has promised to have this despatch delivered within seven days.

Francesco della Casa

Niccolo Machiavelli

3d day of September, 1500

Melun

LETTER XV.

Magnificent Signori: —

It is now evening, and we have not yet been able to come to any agreement with the party who had proposed to unite in despatching this courier, nor do we know whether we shall succeed in coming to terms with him, nor the hour at which the courier is likely to start to-morrow.

We cannot think of anything more to say to your Lordships, unless it be to urge once more the sending of the ambassadors, and to decide about paying the thirty-eight thousand francs. For, on returning from accompanying the Cardinal, who started to-day after dinner for Rouen, we met Robertet, and questioned him with regard to our affairs. To which he replied: “They have improved somewhat since our last conversation; but do not fail to write to your Signoria that they must not think of doing otherwise than paying the money which his Majesty has paid for your account. Say to them also, that, whatever they may decide upon, the most important thing is to send ambassadors here, or at least one, who, however, should be the first and most reputed citizen of Florence; and that his having started should be made immediately known here, so that it may in a measure remove the ill feeling and the umbrage given by the abrupt departure from here of the former ambassadors. Write most stenuously upon this point, for it is of the utmost importance.”

We replied that the ambassadors would be sent, and made excuses for the departure of the former ones; and told him that we would write to you about it, as also about the money,  although we hardly knew what to write you upon this latter point, owing to the events that had occurred since. And as we wanted to touch upon the Pietrasanta affair, Robertet said, “All can yet be arranged, if you will only hasten the coming of the ambassadors.” We have deemed it proper to communicate all this fully to your Lordships, so that you may be able to decide the better as to the course to be adopted.

It is now three o’clock in the night, and with the help of God we have arranged to despatch this courier by our paying half the cost. Thus, your Lordships will pay to Giovanni Martelli thirty-five scudi, that being the amount which Ugolino Martelli has advanced to us. What we have written in the enclosed upon this point is hereby cancelled. Thus, your Lordships will have to pay only thirty-five scudi, which we trust you will be pleased to do, so that the favor conferred upon us here may not be paid with ingratitude; and so that we may not have to remain debtors to Ugolino, to whom we have pledged ourselves personally.

And thus we recommend ourselves to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Melun,

at the 3d hour of night, and

3d day of September, 1500

The present courier will leave early to-morrow, and promises to be in Florence within seven days.

Servitores

Francesco della Casa,
Niccolo Machiavelli.

Francesco della Casa

Niccolo Machiavelli

8 September, 1500

Melun

LETTER XVI.

Magnificent Signori: —

On the 5th of the present month we received two letters from your Lordships, the one of the 14th ultimo, and the other of the 30th, together with a copy of a letter from Beaumont to your Lordships. From these we learn your wishes, and the steps you want us to take with regard to the affair of the Marquis of Massa, and the restitution of Pietrasanta.

We believe, Magnificent Signori, that, before the arrival of  your letters here, your Lordships will have received our despatches of the 26th and 27th ultimo, and of the 3d of the present month, which were sent to you by a special courier through the agency of Martelli, under cover to Ser Antonio della Valle, and at the cost of thirty-five scudi. We do not deem it worth while to send a copy of it, but merely, by way of precaution, will briefly repeat the substance of it; which was to the effect that his Majesty of France was much irritated against your Lordships because of your inability to resume the war against Pisa, and that thus he was prevented from retrieving the honor of his arms at your expense; and then that he had been obliged to spend his own money to pay the Swiss, and the artillery, and the Gascons, all of which should have been paid by you. This is the sum and substance of all that has to be settled here; and unless these points are satisfactorily arranged, it will be impossible to attempt any new negotiations, or, even if begun, to conclude them satisfactorily.

We desire to point out to your Lordships, that to the above two causes of discontent on the part of his Majesty a third must be added, which is no less important than the others; and this is the suspicion which his Majesty has conceived that you are not willing to take any other course. This doubt has been excited in his Majesty’s mind by the unfortunate issue of the attempt upon Pisa, and makes him think that you may consider yourselves as having been badly served in that affair; and that it was in consequence of this that your ambassadors left, so to say, ex abrupto, and that nothing is heard of the coming of any new ones. These things have been suggested by your enemies here, and so plausibly that more importance has been attached to them than what their nature would otherwise merit. And more than all others have the Italians been active in this; for they may be said to labor without restraint to put your Lordships in disgrace with his Majesty, and to compass your ruin. The story of your having sent ambassadors to the Emperor of Germany had its origin in the sanctuary of Monseigneur d’Arles, the Pope’s ambassador. In fact, they have stretched the cord so tight that, if we had not labored with the Cardinal d’Amboise as we have done, and of which we have sent full report to your Lordships, his Majesty would most probably have decided ere this upon some measures detrimental to your interests, which it would have been difficult, if not  impossible, to avert or counteract. And yet matters remain in suspense for the present, for no reason but to ascertain your intentions, which, according to our judgment, should have for their first object the determination to pay the sum which the king claims to have expended for your account; and next to send ambassadors here whose departure from Florence should be immediately notified to this court. And the sooner they start actually to come here, the sooner shall we be able to begin negotiations touching your Lordships’ interests. Meantime we can give you the assurance that everything will remain quiet until the arrival of such ambassadors.

So soon, therefore, as we received your Lordships’ letters of the 14th and 30th of last month, we presented ourselves at court, not in the expectation of effecting anything in the Pietrasanta matter, or in that of the Marquis of Massa, but for the purpose of acquainting his Majesty with what you had written us from Librafatta, so that he might know it first from us, rather than from any one else, for we had been told that the Lucca ambassador had received a courier at the same time with us. And by way of disposing his Majesty more favorably towards us, and inducing him to give us a more favorable hearing, we thought it well in our address to mention the coming of ambassadors from your Lordships. And although you merely inform us in your letter of the 14th of the election of Luca degli Albizzi, and make no further reference to it in yours of the 30th, yet this seemed to us so important a matter that, seeing no better way of gaining time, we assumed the authority of stating to his Majesty that we had letters from your Lordships, informing us of the selection of the ambassadors, and of their  early departure, and that we had every reason to believe that they would certainly be on the way hither by the middle of the present month. After that we told his Majesty of the loss of Librafatta; and to save our credit as much as possible, we said that, although your Lordships had been deprived of your men-at-arms from having relied with too much confidence upon his Majesty’s troops, and that since their withdrawal you had not had the time to reorganize your forces, yet the Pisans never could have taken Librafatta without the treachery of the castellan in charge of it, and the aid and support of the Lucchese, who in that affair, as in all other instances, had manifested their bad disposition and evil-mindedness towards us, caring little at the same time whether they offended his Majesty or not, as was seen but a short time ago, when his Majesty’s army was before the walls of Pisa; that his Majesty could by a single blow make them sensible of the mistake they have made, and at the same time relieve our republic from the wretched situation in which it is placed by the restitution of Pietrasanta. And here we pointed out to his Majesty the good that would result from it, in such terms as the time and the nature of the audience admitted; recommending to him at the same time our republic, and assuring him of your constant good faith, and of the malignity of those who were not ashamed boldly to accuse your Lordships of having sent ambassadors to the Emperor of Germany; but as this would have been altogether a most unreasonable act, we did not deem it worth while to say anything more in excuse of your Lordships.

His Majesty graciously replied, that if your ambassadors were ready to start he would receive them with pleasure, for he should then know that your Lordships felt the same towards him now as you had always done in the past, and as you had said you desired to do in the future. But that he should still be more convinced on the subject when he should see that he was not to suffer any loss, by having to pay what, according to the stipulations of the convention, should be paid by you. In speaking of this blessed money which he has paid to the Swiss and others for your account, after the raising of the siege of Pisa, his Majesty made use of expressions that should be seriously weighed, coming as they do from the mouth of so powerful a person; for he said, “If your Lordships were to refuse to pay this money, I should consider that they are  no friends of mine, and should protect myself by all the means at my command.” When we wanted to reply to his Majesty, and relate to him the dishonesty and bad conduct of the Swiss, he replied, “that he was himself very ill satisfied with them; that he had been subjected by them to paying tribute; that he had been obliged to have patience with them, and that your Lordships ought now to do the same.” Coming back, however, always to the money which he had disbursed, he said “that he could not have done otherwise without disturbing and spoiling the negotiations now being carried on in Germany, which he had much at heart and desired to settle, so that it was really necessary that your Lordships should satisfy him upon that point.” We replied that those ambassadors would soon be here, and we believed that your Lordships would, in accordance with your invariable practice, always do what was right and reasonable; and that we hoped his Majesty would be pleased to await their coming, so as to be able to judge fairly of their disposition. To this his Majesty replied, that he was well satisfied, and that we might now dismiss that Pietrasanta affair, as well as the other matters that remained to be settled; and thereupon we took our leave. We did not think it advisable to bring up the affair of the Marquis of Massa, for the reason that nothing relating to your Lordships’ interests or to those of your adherents, would be listened to here, until the departure of the ambassadors is positively known here, owing to the doubts entertained of your real intentions. Moreover, as the Cardinal d’Amboise is not here, nothing would be concluded without him, even if all else were favorable for us. Therefore it seemed to us prudent to defer a discussion of that subject until a more suitable time, when it could be done with greater advantage and less risk for your Lordships.

Since then we have had a long conference with Monseigneur d’Alby, of the same tenor as that with his Majesty the king. His Lordship professed quite an affectionate regard for our republic, and a readiness to do anything that might be to our advantage, but said that, if your Lordships wished that he and your other friends should be able to do so, then you must make up your minds to refund the king the money which he has paid out for your account, and arrange so that something positive should be heard as to the coming of the ambassadors.  And then he enlarged upon the subject, showing how much umbrage it had given to his Majesty that your former ambassadors had left at the very time when ambassadors should have been sent, if none had been here; and that the king had on several occasions said, “The Florentines are drawing off from me, and I am sorry for them.” We replied to his remarks about the money the same as we had replied to his Majesty, and excused the going away of the ambassadors; saying at the same time that he would see that your Lordships would send others, and men of such high character that his Majesty would be convinced that your Lordships desired to be regarded as good children to him, the same as they had ever been. He evinced great pleasure at hearing this, and thus we left him, unable to obtain any other answer from him in relation to the Pietrasanta affair than what we had already obtained from the king; unless it be that a person familiar with all the secrets had intimated to him that, by agreeing to refund to his Majesty the money which he had paid out, we might possibly obtain Pietrasanta; and he gave us to understand that it was almost as good as done, provided there was no delay in the coming of the ambassadors.

This is all we have been able to do in the matter; nor will it be in our power to do more, for the reasons explained in our former despatch, and repeated in this. We ask the indulgence of the Almighty and of your Lordships on that account; for to remove the impression that has been created here by our disunion, by our alienation from France, and by our weakness, requires new remedies, and greater authority than we possess. We shall continue, as we have done heretofore, to do our best to prevent the conclusion of any treaty with the Lucchese, or any one else, before the arrival of your ambassadors; but it is essential that we should hear within ten or fifteen days that they have actually started, and that we should be able to show a letter to that effect to his Majesty the king; for when the Cardinal d’Amboise returns, who ought to be here within that time, and does not find that your ambassadors are really on the way hither, it may easily happen that they will not be able to accomplish any good when they do arrive. We beg your Lordships in your wisdom to think of this, and to do what will be of greatest advantage to our republic; also to excuse our presumption on account of our devotion, which makes  us speak as we have done. We learn, moreover, to-day that Monsignore di Ligni is coming here in the course of a few days. Some say that he will be accompanied by Piero de’ Medici; so that if this enemy joins the others, who are already quite powerful enough, and if your Lordships do not take care to prevent his Majesty from giving ear to them, the danger to our republic will be increased twofold.

We know nothing of what Monseigneur de Beaumont has had to communicate to your Lordships by his envoy to you, Salient, and therefore can say nothing on the subject; but should anything come to light in relation to it, we will at once inform your Lordships.

The affairs of Italy are more discussed here than those of any other country, and yet we have nothing new to write, for we do not deem it necessary to make your Lordships read again what you know already. In truth, nothing new has occurred here, unless it be the report that ambassadors from the Emperor of Germany are now on the way here; but they are said to be men of little importance, and are not the same that were at first nominated, and to meet whom the king had left Lyons to go to Troyes.

The ambassadors of the king of Naples, however, are said to be coming, notwithstanding that they have been several times ordered to return home, and are in doubt whether to come or return; although at present their coming seems to be the most likely. We shall know by to-morrow what the result will be. Bene valete!

Servitores

Francesco della Casa,
Niccolo Macchiavelli.

Melun,

8 September, 1500

Francesco della Casa

Niccolo Machiavelli

14 September, 1500

Melun

LETTER XVII.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

Our last of the 8th instant was a reply to two of your Lordships’ communications of the 14th and 30th ultimo; and although we suppose that our despatch has reached your hands safely, yet we deem it well to send a duplicate. Nothing special  has occurred since, nor have we anything else to write beyond what we have already said to your Lordships; namely, that if you wish to preserve the friendship of his Majesty of France, you must make up your minds to reimburse him the amounts which he claims to have paid out for your account to the Swiss and the other troops employed in the siege of Pisa. And this comes to our ears from so many quarters that in our judgment there is really no other remedy; for in matters of this kind his Majesty would demand the same satisfaction, if the amount were only one hundred francs, as he does for the thirty-eight thousand francs which he claims. And so long as his Majesty has such a subject of complaint against your Lordships, it will be useless to argue, or to think of obtaining the least thing in your favor. After this it is of the utmost importance that the ambassadors should come here to remove the opinion entertained here, and which has been suggested to the court here, as to your Lordships’ alienation from the king and the want of union amongst yourselves, to which two causes the departure of the former ambassadors and the non-arrival of the new ones are attributed. Every day fresh rumors are set afloat here; at one moment it is that you have sent ambassadors to the Turk, at another it is to the Emperor of Germany. We do our best to contradict these reports everywhere, but shall not be able to do so any more, if the departure of your ambassadors to his Majesty is delayed any longer. We desire to do our duty in calling your Lordships’ attention to this, and to repeat doing so very often, so that in any event we may never be charged with having neglected our mission in this particular. And we tell your Lordships frankly that our labors here can be of no further advantage, for which we have given you the most conclusive reasons.

At another interview which we have had with Monseigneur d’Alby, for the purpose of contradicting the report that your Lordships had sent ambassadors to the Emperor, etc., he declined to speak on any other subject except the money which his Majesty had paid out for your account, and to inquire of us whether the ambassadors had yet left Florence to come here. We desire, moreover, not to fail to remind you, with all due respect for your Lordships, of the importance of making some one here your friend, who from other motives than mere natural affection will watch your Lordships’ interests  here, and will occupy himself in your behalf, and of whose services those who may be here as your agents may avail themselves for your advantage. We will not discuss here any further why and how necessary this is. You have in Florence many distinguished and wise citizens, who have been here as ambassadors, and who can give you better reasons than we can for such a measure. But we will only say upon this point, that it is with just such weapons that the Pisans defend themselves, and that the Lucchese attack you; and that the Venetians and King Frederick, as well as all others who have any business to transact at this court, help themselves; and whoever does not do the same may be said to think of gaining a lawsuit without paying an attorney.

Corcou has returned here; we leave it to your Lordships to judge of his reason for coming back. He has made such a report of the state of things at Florence, that, if Messer Giulio Scurcigliati, on whom, as a disinterested party, some reliance can be placed, had not arrived since then, affairs there would seem to be turning to everybody’s advantage except that of your Lordships. As this Messer Giulio will have fully reported to you of all he has done, we will not weary you with giving an account of it, but shall confine ourselves merely to his request to recommend to your Lordships a lawsuit that is pending between himself and the heirs of Paolo Antonio Bandini, in relation to which his Majesty will also write you.

As we have already stated in our previous letter, ambassadors from Germany are on the way here; but they are personages of less importance than what was reported a couple of months ago. His Majesty the king leaves to-morrow for Blois; we shall follow him there, hoping for the news that your Lordships’ ambassadors have really started. We shall continue with the utmost diligence to do all in our power for your advantage, and humbly recommend ourselves to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Servitores

Francesco della Casa,
Niccolo Machiavelli.

Melun,

14 September, 1500

Niccolo Machiavelli

26 September, 1500

Blois

LETTER XVIII.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

On the 14th instant Francesco della Casa and myself wrote you our last joint despatch from Melun, and sent it with a duplicate of our previous one of the 8th, which was in reply to your Lordships’ two letters of the 16th and 30th ultimo. These were sent by royal post to Lyons to Francesco Martelli, under cover directed to Giovanni Martelli; we presume they have reached you, as also the original sent in the same way. From these letters, as well as from our previous one, which we sent by express messenger on the 3d instant, we think your Lordships will have fully understood the condition in which our affairs here are at the present time; also the extent of our ability to be of use here, and how very necessary it is to have started the ambassadors from Florence; also what determination you ought to come to with regard to the thirty-eight thousand francs, and whether it is your wish to temporize in this matter in the hope of obtaining anything from his Majesty. You will have learnt also how much importance the king attaches to this matter, and in what manner he speaks of it. We are in hourly expectation of letters that will bring us the information that your ambassadors have really started; for we are daily questioned upon this subject, and could have desired, as we have stated to your Lordships, to have been able to show such letters to the Cardinal d’Amboise on his return, so as to remove the dangers to which we are daily exposed of the king’s concluding some treaty prejudicial to the interests of our republic, and to close the mouths of your enemies, who employ every argument to prove to his Majesty that your Lordships are ready to turn their backs upon him on the first occasion; adding thereto the statement that you have sent an envoy to the Emperor of Germany, and have come to a secret understanding with the king of Naples; all of which it is easy to make his Majesty believe, for the reasons given in our former despatches.

His Majesty left Melun on the 14th instant to come here, as we wrote to your Lordships in our last; and Francesco della Casa went at the same time to Paris, being troubled with a slight fever, which he desired to have cured before the malady  should become permanent; but according to what he writes me, he will be back very shortly. The king arrived here six days ago, and to-day the Cardinal d’Amboise also came, having been absent from here and at his own home since the 3d of this month. When I heard yesterday morning that his Eminence was coming, I thought it well promptly to mount and meet him where he was to lodge over night, both by way of showing him the courtesy of riding out to meet him, as also to have the opportunity of conversing with him at my convenience. It was thus that I came last night to a village about eight leagues from here, but as it was already late, I deferred speaking to his Eminence until this morning; and then I accosted him on the road, and in the most suitable and affectionate words that occurred to me I made known to him the sad condition in which your Lordships found yourselves, on account of the heavy expense which you had been obliged to incur in the past solely on account of France, and lately also in aiding his Majesty in his enterprise against Milan, and since then in the attempt upon Pisa; and that, whilst you were hoping at least to have his Majesty’s sympathy and to be able again to begin to recover your forces and your credit, you find yourselves daily assailed and discouraged by various calumnies, your reputation blackened, and all sorts of plots set on foot against you; so that every Italian here is encouraged to raise his hand against our republic. I related to him the loss of Librafatta, and that Vitellozzo, Baglioni, and the Orsini were up in arms, and that it was the general belief that they intended to employ them against your Lordships. And therefore I begged his Eminence not to withdraw his protection from you, but rather to persist in persuading his Majesty the king to treat you like his own children, and to do so in a manner that would make it known to everybody; and thereby to restore your credit and reputation, which it would be easy to do by the mere restitution to us of Pietrasanta, etc.

His Eminence replied with some feeling and at length, and argued that there had been no default on the part of his Majesty in complying with the terms of the treaty, and that he had loaned you his men-at-arms, and had offered to resume the attempt upon Pisa de novo, and afterwards to maintain troops on the Pisan territory; but that none of his propositions had been accepted by your Lordships; and that as to Librafatta  you had only to blame yourselves, and not his Majesty, who had really good cause for complaining because of the money which he had to pay for your account, contrary even to the treaty stipulations. And then his Eminence went on speaking at length, and said that your Lordships did not act prudently, and would not make reparation in time, and that by and by you would not be able to do so. He asked whether the ambassadors had started, and the causes why their coming had been delayed so long, etc., etc. To all this I replied as fully as possible, earnestly contesting every point excepting the subject of the money, upon which he would listen to no argument, so that I was constrained, for the sake of not leaving the matter in dangerous suspense, to tell his Eminence that I had had an audience of his Majesty, and that, when the king complained of having been obliged to make this payment, I had begged his Majesty to be pleased to await the arrival of your ambassadors before coming to any determination, so that he might hear from them the justification of your Lordships and your devotion to his Majesty; and that, as the king had promised to be satisfied with this, I begged his Eminence to do the same, for I felt persuaded that the ambassadors had certainly started before this.

Thus your Lordships will see how your interests remain in suspense until the coming of your ambassadors. There was no other way of gaining time, and even this delay will quickly expire if they are not already on the way. Anyhow it cannot be said that we have failed to bring this matter to your notice, having written so often and so urgently to your Lordships about it, and pointed out to you that it was impossible for us to take any other course; and that, if your Lordships do not consent to the repayment of these thirty-eight thousand francs, all other thoughts of obtaining anything from his Majesty will be in vain; and that henceforth you will have to look upon him as your enemy. It may very possibly happen that, if we succeed in gaining time, the restitution of Pietrasanta may take place. Thus if your Lordships should fail either to send ambassadors here, or to advise us how we shall bear ourselves in this strait, and how we are to gain time in these matters, being without a single friend at court, having lost the favor of the king, who is surrounded by so many of your worst enemies, who present to him daily new projects, pointing out to him your weakness and the great advantages which he would  derive from creating a state for himself around Pisa (as we have explained to you in previous despatches) and placing a governor there of tried fidelity, who, unable to maintain himself there except with the support of his Majesty, would of necessity be most loyally devoted to the king, — that then your Lordships, surrounded by the states of the king, would, without waiting for other forces, come to his Majesty with chains around your necks and lay a carte blanche at his feet. All these things are listened to, and there is danger lest they be carried into effect, as I have been given to understand by some one here. And what increases my apprehensions is, that, being lately at court, N. N. approached me, saying, “I have something to tell you; try and come to my house to-day.” I went there, and, finding him reticent and indisposed to say anything on any particular subject, I asked him why he had requested me to come to him, whereupon he said, “Are your ambassadors coming?” and when I replied that I believed they had started, he said, “If they are really coming they may be productive of good, and may prevent some acts that would be prejudicial to your Signoria.” But with my utmost efforts I could not draw anything more from his lips. I am greatly afraid, therefore, lest some secret intrigue is going on which the king may have so much at heart that this person was afraid to confide it to me. I have deemed it proper to write you all this exactly, so that your Lordships may judge of it more correctly than I can; and in any event to urge the coming of your ambassadors.

As already stated in our previous despatch, Italian affairs are much talked of here, and especially the army which the Pope has collected. But no one is able to say what direction it is going to take; whether it will march to the Romagna to attack Faenza, Rimini, and Pesaro, or whether it is intended to meet the Colonnesi. The latter is most generally believed, because that would best please his Majesty of France, and would also serve a better purpose with regard to the king of Naples; for if war be made against the allies of the latter, he would be compelled to defend them; and being thus weakened, it would be easier for his Majesty of France to make satisfactory terms with the king of Naples. Or if he should attempt the conquest of the kingdom of Naples, he would find success more easy. All of these matters I think must now be quite clear to your Lordships.

Respecting the coming of the ambassadors of the Emperor of  Germany there are various reports; up to the present, it is not even known whether they have set foot on French soil. And it is evident that there is a slight feeling of uneasiness here with regard to Germany, which accounts for their giving just now less attention to Italian affairs, which may enable us more easily to temporize in your Lordships’ matters.

The departure of Monseigneur de Ligny from Lyons for Genoa has for some days kept all minds in a state of suspense, and is variously interpreted. Some say that he has been sent by the king on some particular business of his own, and perhaps having reference to Pisa; others say that he has gone entirely on his own account, being in love with the daughter of the governor of Genoa; and upon this point more things are said here than I could venture to affirm. But whether it be the one thing or the other, I shall leave to the better judgment of your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secretary.

Blois,

26 September, 1500

Niccolo Machiavelli

2 October, 1500

Blois

LETTER XIX.

Magnificent Signori: —

My last despatch to your Lordships was of the 26th ultimo. I therein related to you the arrival here of his Most Christian Majesty, and that I was left alone here in consequence of Francesco della Casa having gone sick to Paris; also that the Cardinal d’Amboise had returned, and my efforts in your behalf with his Eminence; and how essentially necessary it was that your ambassadors should come, if you wished to prevent altogether, or at least delay, the carrying into effect of some projects with regard to Pisa, as well as other intrigues carried on here to your prejudice.

I judge that my letters have reached you safely, for I sent them to Rinieri Dei at Lyons by a special messenger, who was despatched by the agent of Messer Giovanni Bentivogli. Since then I have received your Lordships’ last of the 20th ultimo, by the hands of one of the Prefect’s men, specially sent here for the reasons mentioned in your Lordships’ letter to me. So  soon as I received it, I presented myself first before the king, and afterwards before the Cardinal d’Amboise, and communicated to them your Lordships’ instructions to me; and explained to them that the necessity of defending yourselves had obliged you to take men-at-arms into your pay, and to claim the services of the Prefect, in conformity with the treaties between your Lordships and his Majesty the king. And although the Prefect’s envoy had already spoken both to the king and the Cardinal, yet his Majesty sent me back to the latter, not forgetting, however, first to ask me whether the ambassadors were coming, and to complain about the money which he had paid out. I replied in the very words of your Lordships’ letter; namely, that you informed me that you would not write me again except through the ambassadors, adding, however, that I was firmly persuaded that they would certainly present themselves before his Majesty within the month of October.

His Eminence the Cardinal spoke to me at length, and whilst doing so, he took Monseigneur d’Alby, who was present, by the arm, so that his Lordship might hear him, and said: “The conduct of the Florentines begins to be inexplicable. We offered to keep for their defence five hundred men-at-arms and fifteen hundred infantry, but they would not have them; we then offered them one hundred, or two hundred, or as many as they might deem necessary, but they declined them, and now they go begging for help from others.” And then he turned to me and said, “Secretary, I really know not what to say to you.” When I attempted to reply to the charge that we had refused their men-at-arms, etc., he added, that we knew well how to give reasons for our conduct, but that his Majesty had nevertheless been obliged to pay the money which ought to have been paid by your Lordships. And then he asked me whether the ambassadors were coming, to which I answered the same as I had done to his Majesty the king; namely, that they ought to be here in the course of the present month, if not sooner; and that they would prove that our  fidelity to his Majesty had increased rather than otherwise, and could not but continue to increase; and that they would exculpate your Lordships from all the calumnies that were daily originated by those who wished no good to your Lordships, and still less to the honor of his Majesty the king. And when I finally asked his Eminence what I should write to your Lordships in regard to the Prefect, he replied that an agent of the Prefect’s had arrived, and that they would give him their answer, which was all I could get out of his Eminence. I have nothing further to write to your Lordships on this subject; but as this agent is about to return to the Cardinal San Pietro in Vincola, and will be the bearer of this letter, your Lordships will be able to get full information from Pietro Soderini. But I must not omit to tell your Lordships that, after my conversation with the Cardinal d’Amboise, Robertet called me aside, and told me how much he had always had your interests at heart, and how he had always labored for your advantage, and that he had ever been ready to exert himself in your favor, and how grieved he was to see that you had abandoned your own cause; for that in so important and urgent a matter as the present, your not having ambassadors here gives offence to everybody, and is regarded as the result either of disunion amongst yourselves, or of discontent with the state of things here, or because you have not been well informed on the subject. For reason alone demanded that the ambassadors should have been sent here by post, so as to prevent the adoption by his Majesty of some unfriendly resolution, which is daily urged upon him. To all this I answered as for the moment seemed to me most suitable, affirming again that the present month would not pass without seeing the ambassadors here; and that everything would be satisfactorily arranged, provided there was no determination to wrong your Lordships anyhow, which I did not believe, etc., etc.

As I have already said in my former letter, Italian affairs are more talked about than anything else, and more particularly the Pope’s enterprise, which, as I wrote you in my last, was believed to be intended against the Colonnesi. But now we understand that it is just the contrary, and that the purpose is to march to the Romagna. I can say nothing further on the subject, but your Lordships are in a position to know the truth of the matter better than myself. I will merely say that everything  is conceded to the Pontiff, more from an unwillingness on the part of the king to oppose the Pope’s unbridled desires, than from any wish to see him victorious; for Messer Giovanni Bentivogli has been written to, with the king’s special approval, to do all in his power for the defence of Faenza, and to act in the matter as a good relative, etc., etc.

I have nothing new to write to your Lordships respecting the embassy from Germany, for we do not yet know exactly when it is likely to arrive; his Majesty himself is altogether in doubt about it. The only thing of interest is that the Venetian ambassador is here to solicit aid against the Turk, more especially now since the loss of Modone and Corone is clearly known. Long consultations have been held on the subject, but as yet it is not known what conclusion has been come to. It was proposed to levy a tithe upon the priests, which formerly had been entirely consumed by the receivers, and which his Majesty intends to revive. With all this the Venetian ambassador is not very well satisfied.

Your Lordships must have heard that the Grand Turk has sent ambassadors to his Majesty here, to reply to the complaints which the king had communicated to the Turk through a herald, and how the Grand Master of Rhodes had placed this herald on the footing of an ambassador, by way of giving him more importance. Upon their arrival at Venice, the Turkish ambassadors were dismissed by his Majesty, at the request of the Venetians, who gave them to understand that they would not be welcome without full power to conclude a peace; and that they must not advance any further, but return whence they had come. His Majesty has since then repented this very much, having been informed that the Venetians had urged this advice upon him, so that he might not hear of the intrigues they were carrying on with the Turk adverse to his Majesty. The Grand Master of Rhodes was also greatly irritated, inasmuch as it was mainly upon his solicitations that the Turk had sent this embassy, and it is said that he has sent one of his knights here to accuse the Venetians, and to treat them as enemies. This is the reason why the aid asked by the Venetians of his Majesty is deferred, and that it will certainly not be rendered in time for this year.

I mention this matter very briefly, so as not to weary your Lordships’ patience, as I take it for granted that you have  received from other sources more detailed and accurate accounts of the greater part of this affair.

I recommend myself most humbly to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Blois,

2 October, 1500

P. S. — I can but rejoice at the re-establishment of the Magistracy of the Ten, and thank God for it. Let us hope much good from it; for from a better government we have the right to hope for happier results. I shall avail myself of this information as I may judge best for the credit of our republic.

Iterum valete!

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Niccolo Machiavelli

October 8, 1500

Blois

LETTER XX.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

My last was of the 2d instant, and was sent by the agent of the Prefect; and although I have at this moment nothing special to communicate to your Lordships, beyond what I have urged upon you in every despatch, and have actually persuaded myself that your ambassadors are on the way here, nevertheless their coming seems to me of such supreme importance that I do not hesitate to weary your Lordships with the same story by every messenger that leaves here. And what makes me do so with even increased energy is, to see your enemies every day inventing some new schemes for their own advantage. Not more than a couple of days since, a report was spread at court that your Lordships had recalled, under heavy penalties, all the Florentine merchants that are in France; and this report was confirmed by some Frenchmen just up from Lyons. And although such things carry their justification with them so far as you are concerned, nevertheless they are heard, and together with other rumors that are set afloat every day they produce a bad impression. Until now we have kept these rumors in check by assuring the court of the near arrival of the ambassadors, through whom his Majesty will learn the good spirit that animates you in all things possible and reasonable  for your Lordships. This has in part satisfied them, but if the actual departure of the ambassadors from Florence does not become known here very soon, I cannot foresee the consequences, but doubt much whether it will be anything to your advantage. On the other hand, however, if they do come, then I shall hope for good results, if anything good can be hoped for from here; for his Majesty the king has been very much annoyed for the last few days by the German affairs; for the embassy that was expected from there with so much solemnity will either not come at all, or will be reduced to a simple herald, or some other personage of similar rank. Since then we see manifest signs of doubts and suspicions; such as the ordering of three hundred lances into Lombardy again; the drawing closer to the Pope, and attaching more importance to it than usual; and where, as I stated in my last, Giovanni Bentivogli had been directed to act like a good relation with regard to Faenza, he has now been written to just the contrary, with special injunctions not to render any assistance whatever to that city. Moreover, they greatly favor the requests made by the Pope of the Venetians, namely, that they confer upon his son the Duke Valentino the title of Captain-General of their armies and the rank of gentleman, and give him a palace in Venice; all of which they hope to obtain. His Majesty’s conduct towards the Venetians is very much in the same style; he promises them more decidedly than he has ever done before to render them assistance against the Turk. And therefore I believe that the same causes will also place your Lordships upon a more favorable footing with his Majesty, provided that your ambassadors arrive here promptly; for the above-mentioned apprehensions with regard to Germany will not fail in their effects, nor are they likely to be removed, provided you will take advantage of this chance, as seems to me most reasonable. But if it does not very soon become known that your ambassadors are really coming, then his Majesty will be more inclined to believe the calumnies of your enemies than our justifications. Everything depends upon the faith which his Majesty may have as to their coming or not; and should he once think that you are his enemies, then he will take care that you shall not be able to injure him. I therefore pray your Lordships, with the utmost respect, that you will not fail of your duty to our republic in this matter; and that you will not  be satisfied to have the ambassadors come in the ordinary way, but that they come by post at least as far as Lyons, for the importance of the matter merits every possible effort.

For the past three or four days it has been rumored that his Majesty will leave here to go to Nantes, — not to remain there however very long, his intention being to proceed to Lyons; but I cannot say anything positive upon this or many other subjects, because the plans and resolutions are changed almost every hour. Your Lordships will therefore pardon me if you should find some contradictions in my letters.

I shall not write at length about relieving my own necessities, for your Lordships know that on my leaving Florence I had but eighty ducats, of which I spent thirty to come here by post. At Lyons I had to renew my entire outfit, and have to keep here three horses at the hostelry; and without money nothing can be done.

I recommend myself most humbly to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli
apud Christianissimum.

Blois,

October 8, 1500

Niccolo Machiavelli

11 October, 1500

Blois

LETTER XXI.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

My last was of the 7th instant, in which I reported to your Lordships all that had occurred of interest up to the day. I had previously sent two other despatches, one of the 26th ultimo, and the other of the 2d instant; which I presume have safely reached your hands. Since then I have received your Lordship’s letters of the 26th ultimo, with report of the state of things in Florence. After carefully reading and examining their contents, and particularly all that relates to the coming of the ambassadors, and to the calumnies circulated about your Lordships, and to the arrangements of the Genoese for seizing Pietrasanta, I called upon his Eminence the Cardinal d’Amboise, as his Majesty had gone to a village some eight leagues from here, where he was going to pass the evening. And although it was hardly worth while to take much trouble to  justify your Lordships from the calumnies, having already done so on previous occasions, to the extent that both his Majesty the king and the Cardinal had promised me to await the arrival of your ambassadors to know the truth and come to some decision, and that I could rather have wished to be able to announce the positive departure of the ambassadors from Florence; nevertheless, encouraged by your Lordships’ letters, I made it a point to declare to his Eminence your Lordships’ disposition, intentions, and desires; and demonstrated to him also how utterly without foundation were the calumnies spread about your Lordships, and in what evil disposition they had their origin; and in fact, that it was the calumniators, rather than the calumniated, who ought to be looked after. I furthermore said to his Eminence, that the future would prove the truth of all this, even if the past were insufficient to do so; and that his Majesty the king, as well as his Eminence himself, would be fully satisfied upon all these points, when your Lordships’ ambassadors should arrive here; and that these ambassadors were on the point of starting, and would assuredly be here in the course of this month. I begged his Eminence, at the same time, to keep his Majesty in his present favorable disposition, and to abide the arrival of the ambassadors, and not to listen to evil tongues, nor to come to any decision for the present, as in fact his Eminence had on a former occasion promised.

I then proceeded to speak of the Pietrasanta affair, and related to his Eminence the reports started by the Genoese, of their having a concession, etc.; I told him of the attempt which their commissary had made, and the injuries which your vassals had suffered at his hands. His Eminence listened patiently to all I said, without particularly replying to any one point; but suddenly he entered upon the same subject upon which he had already spoken to me several times, as reported by me to your Lordships; namely, that his Majesty was exceedingly displeased by your having refused to resume the war against Pisa, by your declining his offer of men-at-arms, and by your unwillingness to refund the money which he had paid to the Swiss and for artillery, etc., etc.; and that for that reason no thought could be given to your affairs, nor could anything be said in your favor. I replied, that as to your refusal to resume the war against Pisa, and the non-acceptance of the troops, I had no other excuse to offer than what I had already  presented on former occasions; namely, as to the first, the actual impossibility of your doing so; and as to the latter, the bad disposition of those very troops; and I added that these excuses were so well founded, that neither his Majesty the king nor his Eminence himself could or ought to think differently. And as to the third point of complaint, namely, the money, that I had entreated his Majesty to await the arrival of the ambassadors, who were ready to start, and had instructions to satisfy his Majesty; and that if he wished to see your Lordships’ letters on that subject, I was prepared to show them to him. To this his Eminence replied in the precise following words: “Dixisti, verum est; sed erimus mortui antequam oratores veniant; sed conabimur ut alii prius moriantur.” And when I replied that the time was short, and that there could be no loss by waiting, he said, “Come back here to-day at three o’clock in the afternoon, and you shall then know the king’s intentions, and the course which these things must take.”

The Cardinal left his house whilst talking to me, and continued his remarks on the way to church; and when we reached the chapel we found Messer Giulio Scurcigliati there waiting for the Cardinal, who, so soon as he saw him, called him, and said that he wished him to be present at this last interview between us, and that he would be obliged to him if he would return with me to his house at three o’clock; for knowing his devotion to your Lordships, he wanted him to be present and hear what was said. And thereupon I took my leave, his Eminence being very angry at what I had told him about Pietrasanta; and he immediately directed Robertet to write to Genoa and give orders that no Genoese should be allowed to enter Pietrasanta; and also to write to Beaumont to give strict orders to the commandant of the citadel to be well upon his guard, and under no circumstances to have any dealings with the Genoese. To the first letter he added a paragraph about the restitution of the stolen cattle, and to enjoin upon the people the preservation of good relations with their neighbors, etc. However, I shall endeavor to obtain a special letter upon this subject, and will send it to your Lordships.

In accordance with the Cardinal’s request, I returned to his house at three o’clock, and presented myself before his Eminence,  and found Messer Giulio there. His Eminence spoke for more than half an hour, beginning with complaints of your obstinacy before the first treaty was concluded with his Majesty of France; and how badly your Lordships afterwards observed the stipulations of that treaty; and how tardy you had always been in all matters; and blaming us in a measure for the money spent in the recovery of Milan, after the revolt of that city. After that he came to the new treaty made with Pietro Soderini at Milan, and to the army that had been directed against Pisa; and how, from his affection for you, his Majesty’s arms had suffered dishonor in that affair; and how you had always lagged behind on every occasion of danger, although you had shown yourselves very brave in refusing to pay one farthing of the money for the Swiss and the artillery, etc., leaving it all to be paid by his Majesty. And finally he concluded by saying, that he was willing to forget all the other things, but that it was indispensable for your Lordships to decide upon refunding that money to his Majesty; that there was not a day but what the Lucchese, the Genoese, and the Pisans came about his Majesty’s ears with offers of large sums of money, without agreement or obligations of any kind; which his Majesty could not but admire, seeing on the one hand their excellent disposition, and noting on the other hand your obstinacy, first in refusing to pay despite your obligations under the treaty, and your delay now in putting off to do anything under pretence of waiting for the new ambassadors. “But I tell you,” said he, “from the affection which I have for your republic, although of course not equal to that which I have for the king, that these ambassadors of yours can neither negotiate, nor will they be listened to upon any point, unless payment is first made of the amount due to his Majesty; and if it is not understood that such is your intention, write therefore at once to your Signoria, for we do not wish to remain any longer in suspense upon this point, and let them understand that, whether they choose to be friends or enemies, in any event they will have to pay. But if you remain our friends, as you will if you are wise, his Majesty will pass Christmas at Lyons, and Easter at Milan. Up to the present he has sent two thousand lances into Italy, and over six thousand infantry, of those who have already been there; and we shall see whether Pisa will resist him, and whether those who oppose  him are stronger than he is. His friends will know then that he is king, and that his promises will be strictly carried out.” And then, turning to Robertet, his Eminence told him to have the accounts got ready, and to give them to me, so that I might forward them to your Lordships.

Your Lordships will judge whether it would have been possible for me to have made a reply to such a proposition, even if I had been able to constrain them to listen to me with patience. Therefore I judged it best to confine my remarks to touching upon the most necessary points; I could not, however, refrain from saying that the fact of his Eminence complaining of all your Lordships’ actions, and particularly of those that really deserved the highest encomiums, encouraged me also to complain of the Pietrasanta business, and that the restitution of that place to your Lordships had not been made according to the terms of the treaty. This stirred and vexed his Eminence, who said that that was another business altogether; but that all this would be arranged provided your Lordships did not fail in the performance of your obligations. I continued the conversation, and said that I would attempt no further justification of your Lordships, nor weary myself by repeating what had been so often discussed and demonstrated, namely, that no default had ever been made by your Lordships in the performance of your engagements; nor would I say anything more respecting the last point, upon which depended his Majesty’s favorable or unfavorable disposition towards us, than what I had always said until now, namely, that the ambassadors were coming, and would give full satisfaction to the king, provided he demanded nothing unreasonable or impossible. For to demand either the one or the other could only be regarded as an attempt to injure our republic, which I could not believe was intended, because it would be injuring the best friends which his Majesty had in all Italy. I begged his Eminence not to give so ready an ear to the promises of the Genoese, the Lucchese, and the Pisans; and said that he ought not to listen to anything but what was to the honor of his Majesty the king, and to such promises as were likely to be fulfilled; and that he ought to consider whether a small present advantage was preferable to a great and continued benefit. But that I would report everything fully to your Lordships; and that the reply would be in the same  spirit that had always been manifested by our republic, which by the heavy and fruitless expenditures to which she had been so long subjected ought to have extinguished all jealousy henceforward, and ought to excite compassion instead.

His Eminence replied to the last part of my remarks, that his Majesty the king regretted the sufferings to which our republic had been exposed, but could take no other action than what he had done; nor could it be reasonably expected that he should submit to a loss by paying out his own money. He advised me to write you at once, and that they would await your reply provided it was not delayed too long; that they wanted acts, having no longer any faith in words; and that the king’s friendship could only be preserved by your paying the amount in question, whilst to refuse it would provoke his enmity. And thereupon I took my leave.

Magnificent Signori, the enclosed memorandum will show you the amount that is claimed, and the reasons why you are held responsible for it. You will find that it comprises the amount which you are to pay for account of the Signor Lodovico, and for which you are held responsible the same as for the other items. I have taken the memorandum just as it was brought to me, not wishing to examine the calculations, nor to make any further objections, as it would have been of no use to have done so, but might rather have made the condition of our case worse in some respects. I could truly wish this letter had wings, so as to enable me to have a prompt reply; but know not how to manage, having never received any instructions as to what to do in case it should become necessary to send a special courier. I shall pray the Almighty to aid me, and if I can find any one who will carry this despatch, I shall devote to it what little money I may yet have.

I have nothing further to say to your Lordships, unless it be to entreat you, with the utmost respect, to let me have your answer promptly, and, if you resolve to pay, then to prove it by deeds; for I doubt whether they will wait much longer, mainly on account of German affairs, which cause them a good deal  of apprehension here, as mentioned in a former letter, and which has made them draw nearer to the Venetians and to the Pope. I want to see now how they will behave towards your Lordships, and how they will employ the money which they demand of you, or what they may obtain from others in the event of your refusing to pay; and how, in case you declare yourselves their enemies, they will act so as to render you harmless. But they are not willing at the same time to be in uncertainty as to your intentions, and leave Pisa open for any one to go in who may be disposed to make war upon them. Your Lordships will also remember, from all we have written, and from the conduct of the court since we have been here, that neither the king nor the Cardinal ever descended actually to ask us for the money, or to name their conditions to us as they are doing at present; but that they only complained to us on the subject on every occasion and in every place, and that they have entertained the Lucchese, have had dealings and close relations with the Pisans and the Genoese, and openly threatened your Lordships. It was this that induced me to go to the Cardinal and to express to him my surprise at his pretended dissatisfaction, and at the treaties that were being negotiated without reference or notice to your Lordships. And when I pressed his Eminence warmly as to what I should write to your Lordships, he refused to give me a definite reply, and referred me to Corcou, as I wrote you fully in my letter of the 3d of September. Then came your Lordships’ letters of the 30th of August, which afforded me the opportunity to speak of the coming of your ambassadors; and since then all my efforts have been devoted to urging your Lordships to hasten their departure, and to keeping matters here in suspense until their arrival. And what has occurred since then is reported above in this despatch. I have not deemed it amiss to make this little recapitulation, so that your Lordships may form a better idea of the state of things here, and may thus be enabled to determine what course will be for the greatest advantage to our republic.

I have no further news to communicate, unless it be that two days since there arrived here an ambassador from the Marquis of Mantua, together with one from the Marquis of Ferrara, and likewise an ambassador from the king of Naples. From this your Lordships will not fail in your wisdom to see  that they all have more fear of this king than faith in each other; notwithstanding that Mantua is situated in a lake, and that the king of Naples has the Turk for his neighbor and is on good terms with the Emperor of Germany. I must therefore beg your Lordships again, with the utmost respect, to reflect well upon your answer, and to let me have it as quickly as possible. And yet Robertet has intimated to me that his Majesty the king will send some one to settle these matters; but as the Cardinal has not said anything to me on the subject, I cannot affirm the truth of it. Nor should I advise your Lordships to delay your answer on that account, for I am in daily fear lest something be resolved upon here that would make your answer come too late, and that thus you might be obliged to pay the amount in question without deriving any advantage from it, and without preserving the king’s friendship; and in that case our ambassadors would have to come here on wings to be able to ameliorate our situation in any degree, even if that be possible. Above all things, therefore, is it essential to act with the utmost promptitude, and hasten the time of the ambassadors’ departure.

Being unable to find any one willing to share in the expense of sending a special courier, or to pay the whole cost of it myself, I have been obliged to despatch it by the king’s post, and to direct it to Nasi at Lyons, at the cost of one franc; and have written him, for the love which he bears to our republic, promptly to forward it by special messenger, in case no regular courier is despatched from Lyons; and that your Lordships will reimburse him for it, and in case you do not, then to charge the cost of it to me. I pray your Lordships, therefore, to repay Nasi the amount which he has expended, and of which he will inform you; so that he may be willing to render us similar service on future occasions, and so that I may not be afraid to ask it of him, or that I may not have to pay it out of my private means.

I recommend myself to the good graces of your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secretary, etc.

Blois,

11 October, 1500

Niccolo Machiavelli

14 October, 1500

Blois

LETTER XXII.

Magnificent Signori: —

This is the 14th of the month, and his Most Christian Majesty has resolved to send Odoardo Bugliotto, one of his body servants, and bearer of this, to learn more fully your Lordships’ intentions with regard to the money which he claims from you, as I have explained at length to your Lordships in my despatch of the 11th instant, which, for want of other facilities, I sent by the royal post to Nasi at Lyons, with instructions to forward it with all possible speed to your Lordships. There is no occasion for me to repeat what I have written before, inasmuch as the bearer of this will inform you fully as to the king’s intentions, and will supply any omissions I may have made. I will only repeat what the Cardinal d’Amboise told me, viz. “That, friends or enemies, we would have to pay, and that thus your real intentions would be made known by your acts, for words and promises would no longer satisfy them.” Assuming that your Lordships have received my letters, and moreover as you will hear what the bearer of this will have to say, your Lordships will decide with your habitual prudence as to the course which it will be best to pursue. But I beg your Lordships, amongst other things in connection with this matter, to take some measures that will oblige the person who comes to you, if he cannot or will not favor your cause in any other way, at least to write the truth when he reports to the king. For the unfavorable reports that have been sent here on previous occasions are to a great degree the reasons that have provoked the anger of the king, and of the bad condition in which your interests are here at present.

Nothing further occurs to me to write, except to recommend myself humbly to the good graces of your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secretary.

Blois,

14 October, 1500

His Majesty the king leaves this morning for Nantes, where he will remain a few days, and then return by way of Lyons, etc.

Niccolo Machiavelli

25 October, 1500

Nantes in Brittany

LETTER XXIII.

Magnificent Signori: —

Having written to your Lordships on the 11th instant, and stated at length all that his Eminence the Cardinal had said to me respecting the money they claim that your Lordships ought to pay, etc.; and having since then repeated the same in my despatch of the 14th, sent by the hands of Odoardo Bugliotto, who was sent to Florence by the king for a similar purpose, I should not have had occasion to write again to your Lordships, were it not that your despatch of the 3d instant had been received, which informs me of the nomination of Pier Francesco Tosinghi, and that he is to start on the 10th or 12th instant. Nothing could have given me more pleasure to learn, for the reasons which I have so repeatedly written to your Lordships, as well as on account of the distinguished character of the man, from whom we may hope for such fruit as it may still be possible to gather on this soil. And although since it was decided to send Odoardo to Florence I have not been so harassed every day about the delay in the arrival of the ambassadors, yet it seemed to me well to inform his Eminence the Cardinal what your Lordships have written me, namely, that the ambassador was to start, and must at the present moment be near Lyons; adding such words of my own as seemed to me suited to calm his feelings. His Eminence replied to me, in a few words, that it was well, and that the ambassador ought to hasten his journey. He asked me why there was only one ambassador, which I readily explained, although I do not know but what they may take umbrage at it; for your Lordships’ enemies here will not fail to comment upon it in a dozen different ways. But I shall continue to be on my guard, and shall spare no efforts to justify your Lordships, if need be. His Eminence subsequently asked me again to write and urge you to come to a good resolution with regard to the money due to his Majesty, and to prove it by acts; assuring me that they had no longer any faith in fair words or promises, and that they should clearly know what to expect, so soon as they should hear from Bugliotto. I replied that I would do so with the utmost diligence, although it seemed to me unnecessary to urge your Lordships to do what was proper,  or what you possibly could do in the interest of the king; to which his Eminence replied, that it would have to be proved by facts.

Your Lordships requestme to ascertain the condition of Messer Giovanni Bentivogli’s affairs here. Now, as all doubts as to the preservation of his state arise from the enterprise which the Pope is carrying on against the Romagna, I will begin my explanations with that. Your Lordships will remember that, soon after our first arrival here, we informed you how the Pope pressed the king to aid him in this attempt against the Romagna, and how the king procrastinated and kept the Pope along with promises. For being at that time still more hopeful as to the affairs of Germany, his Majesty wanted the Pope to employ his power against the Colonnesi, as was then generally believed, for the reasons which we wrote you in some of our former communications. And the king had given his consent that, if the Pope should nevertheless attempt this attack upon theRomagna, Messer Giovanni Bentivogli should act the part of a relative, inasmuch as his Majesty had not yet charged the Venetians, as he has done since, to give up the protection of the Romagna. But as since then the ambassadors of the German Emperor have not arrived, and as his Majesty is in daily apprehension of being attacked, he was, as it were, forced to consent to the Pope’s carrying out his plans against the Romagna. For inall the possible events that may occur in Italy, his Majesty counts more upon the Pope than upon any of the other Italian potentates; partly because the Pontiff has always proved himself better armed than any other, and has suffered less from wars hitherto, and has fewer obstacles to surmount, and is moreover head of the Church, etc., etc. The Cardinal d’Amboise aims also at the same mark; for he, beingreally the man that governs, has drawn upon himself the envy and enmity of all the other powerful lords, and therefore hopes through the Pope’s influence so to increase his own credit as to be able the better to resist the envy of the others. It is said, even, that in the creation of the new legates on account of the Turkish affairs the Pope will name the Cardinal his legate for France.

The Venetians also, being afraid of the Turk, and advised by the king to give up the protection of the towns of the Romagna, have done so readily; hoping that the Pope would move all  Christian potentates in their favor. They judge moreover, that they will not lose much if those towns were to fall into the hands of the Duke Valentino, as they have taken him under their protection, and have adopted him as their son, and, as is generally supposed, will make him Captain-General of their forces.

Now the well-known insatiable rapacity of the Pope makes everybody here suppose that the same reasons that have made his Majesty and the Venetians yield their consent to the Pope’s attempt upon the Romagna will also cause them to consent to his attempt uponMesser Giovanni Bentivogli. And fearing this, Messer Giovanni, together with the Duke of Ferrara, have made the greatest efforts to induce his Majesty to consent to their rendering assistance to their friends of the Romagna; and it is only quite lately that Monseigneur d’Aubigny, at their request, sent one of his men here expressly for that purpose; who, however, could obtain no further answerfrom his Majesty, than that he could not interfere, as it was a matter of the Church, and that he could not consent to his allies making any opposition to her. And quite lately, when the envoy of Messer Giovanni spoke to his Majesty on the subject, and pointed out to him the danger to which his lord would be exposed, unless he could depend upon his Majesty’s protection in the event of the Pope’s succeeding in his present under-taking, he obtained, after much talking, the following reply: “That when it had come to the point that the Pontiff was actuallyabout to attack Messer Giovanni, that then hisMajesty would hear the reasons of the Pope and of Messer Giovanni, and would then decide against whoever was in the wrong.” This is in fact all that can be learnt here in relation to Messer Giovanni’s affairs; and as I have it from the best authority, I believe it to be the truth.

I have notyet said anything to your Lordships about Agostino Semenza, for the reason that several days ago Giulio Scurcigliati received letters from Messer Antonio Cola, an agent of the Prefect of Rome, informing him of the coming of this envoy, but giving at the same time much more importance to his mission, and a reply highly favorable to affairs here. But as I reported that information fully in a former communication, it seems to me not worth while to bring it up again now.

I stated to Messer Giulio your Lordships’ favorable disposition towards him, on account of the good services which he has rendered, etc. He thanks your Lordships, and entreats you again to expedite his business. He has never himself written to your Lordships, but has always made every occurrence of interest here promptlyknown to his particular friends in Florence.

Since his Majesty’s arrival here a number of high personages have come here, amongst them Monseigneur de Ligny, Monseigneur de la Tremouille, the Prince of Orange, etc., but not a word has been said about German affairs; nevertheless, there are great apprehensions upon that point; and so soon as the Ogni Santi (All Saints) is over, the court will at once move from here to Lyons.

The ambassadors from Naples are supposed to have arrived at Lyons, and the marriage between the Princess, daughter of King Frederick, and Monsignor della Roccia, is regarded as definitely arranged. The Cardinale di San Severino is expected here. Beyond this I have nothing to write, but to recommend myself to the good graces of your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli.

From

Nantes in Brittany,

25 October, 1500

P. S. — I was just about to seal this despatch when Ugolino Martelli received a letter from Lyons, informing him, amongst other things, that the thirty-five scudi, which he had to pay for expediting my despatch of the 3d September from Melun, had not yet been refunded to him; and that Giovanni Martelli had written that he had as much as given it up. He complains very much to me about it, and I can only say in reply, that he is entirely right, and that I would write to your Lordships about it. I entreat you, therefore, so to arrange this matter that I may not have to pay it myself; and that, should occasion arise, I may not be compelled to do as it happened to me once at Blois, where I was obliged to send an important despatch by the king’s post as far as Lyons. Valete!

Niccolo Machiavelli

25 October, 1500

Nantes

LETTER XXIV.

Magnificent and Illustrious Signori, etc., etc. —

Although I hardly think it necessary to ask your Lordships for my leave, firmly believing that you will have sent it to me by the ambassador, as my remaining here after his arrival would be superfluous; nevertheless the necessity for my being at Florence is so urgent that, in case my leave should not have been sent, I do not wish to be wanting to myself, and therefore entreat your Lordships with the utmost respect to be pleased to grant me that favor. For, as you are aware, my father died a month before my departure, and since then I have lost a sister; and my private affairs are so unsettled and without order, that my property is in every way actually going to waste. I hope, therefore, that your Lordships will kindly grant my request, so that I may in some measure restore order to my own affairs. I should want to remain in Florence only one month, after which I am willing either to come back to France, or to go to any other place where it may please your Lordships to send me. I recommend myself most humbly to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Nantes,

25 October, 1500

Niccolo Machiavelli

4 November, 1500

Nantes

LETTER XXV.

Magnificent Signori: —

Since writing my last of the 27th ultimo, I have received your Lordships’ letter of the 21st, which refers to some particulars of a despatch of the 10th which has not yet come to hand. I am therefore at a loss how to execute your Lordships’ orders. I have determined, nevertheless, to speak to the king and the Cardinal about your Lordships’ apprehensions on account of the rumors that have reached you from many quarters as to the evil disposition of the army of the Duke Valentino towards your Lordships; and how seriously this matter disturbs you, being without any organized force of men-at-arms.  I therefore relied altogether upon his Majesty, and entreated him to be pleased to aid you with such means as he might deem necessary; and that on your part you would not fail to do everything in your power to save your liberty; and that if you were assailed by the Orsini and the Vitelli, you would seek to defend yourselves. His Majesty, being at the moment very much occupied, made no reply except that I should speak to the Cardinal d’Amboise about it. I therefore went immediately to see his Eminence, and spoke to him in the same sense as I had done to his Majesty; adding such further remarks in favor of your cause as the time permitted. He replied that he did not believe that the Pope would attempt to engage in any enterprise in Italy, without first conferring with his Majesty the king on the subject; and as he had not done so, he did not think the Pope would make any such attempt. But should he yet consult his Majesty, or attempt such an attack independently, then in the first case his Majesty would not give his consent, and in the latter he would lend you his assistance, provided you maintained your friendly relations with his Majesty. And then he began to complain again of the delay in the coming of your ambassadors, etc., etc. And as to the part of the Colonnesi, he reflected a moment, and then said, “Preserve the friendship of the king, and then you will not need his assistance; but if you lose his good graces, all the help will not suffice you.”

I replied in a becoming manner; but respecting the Lucchese it seemed to me best neither to touch upon that subject nor to make any further reply, for I did not want to irritate them more than what they are already until the arrival of your ambassador, hoping that his instructions may be satisfactory to the king, and that then we may be able to discuss the point in question more freely, particularly as, according to the time of his departure from Florence, the ambassador ought shortly to be here.

Afterwards, on All Souls’ Day, came your Lordships’ letter of the 10th ultimo, and, after carefully studying its contents, I returned again to the Cardinal, and explained to him briefly the causes of your apprehensions; and that it would be easy for the Duke Valentino, after once having taken Faenza, to make an attack upon Florence, and, having one of your rebels with him, it would not be difficult for him to make a hostile attempt  against your liberties. Such an act would prove an injury to your Lordships and a dishonor to his Majesty. And we being his Majesty’s most devoted and trusted friends, it would be very proper for his Eminence to write to the Pope and to the Duke Valentino that whatever they might attempt against your Lordships would be the same as if they attempted it against his Majesty.

Thereupon his Eminence took me by the hand and led me to the Grand Chancellor and the Marquis of Rothelin, who were near by, and then began again, as he had done several times before, to speak of all the trouble he had taken for your Lordships’ benefit, and of the dishonor to which the king had been subjected from his affection for you; but that you had broken the treaties by refusing to pay the money due by you to the Swiss, etc.; and that now, being afraid of the Pope, you claimed the aid and support of the king, which his Majesty, however, would not grant unless it was clearly understood whether or not you intended to remain his friends. For to write anything in your favor would be acting adversely to the people of Lucca, Sienna, and your other enemies, whom his Majesty did not want to become his enemies when your Lordships ceased to be his friends.

I replied to the first point the same as I had already done several times; and as to the others, I said that there was no reason to have any doubts as to your Lordships’ friendship, any more than there was for having any particular consideration for either the Lucchese or the Siennese, when the question was as to his Majesty’s giving you his aid and support; for that I could not recall either the one or the other having rendered his Majesty any special service. Nor did I know what they had been able to do in time of peace or in war, nor what service could be hoped for from them now. But that I well knew what your Lordships had done for the present king, as well as for his predecessor; and that in their time of adversity, when the fidelity of friends is put to the test, you alone of all the Italian powers had remained faithful; that you did not deserve to be treated thus, and that a Most Christian King ought not to allow your Lordships to be subjected to it. The Cardinal replied to me merely in the following words: “Write to your ambassador to come at once, or to send his instructions to you, so that we may know the intentions of  your government. After that we shall not fail on our part to do all that ought to be done for your Signoria.” I told him of the Pope’s envoy that had been sent to Pisa on the 12th, to which he answered in an excited manner, that that was nothing, and that I had better do what he had recommended, etc.

The day after, which was yesterday, Robertet came to meet me, saying, “I have special orders from his Majesty and from the Cardinal to write to Monseigneur d’Aubigny at Milan, and to our ambassador at Rome, and to charge the one to signify to the Pope, and the other to the Duke Valentino, how displeased his Majesty was to learn that there was talk in the army which was at present in the Romagna of going with rebels and other enemies to attack the Florentines, which his Majesty would not in any way permit.” In short, he told me that he was instructed to write as strongly as possible in favor of your Lordships. I asked him to give me that letter, but he said that he had no instructions to that effect, and that he thought it was better so, as otherwise it might appear as though we had begged for such action.

This is all I have to communicate to your Lordships in reply to your last letter, nor is there anything else new here, except that his Majesty the king leaves to-day for Tours, where he is to give an audience to the ambassadors from Germany.

Bene valete!

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secretary.

Nantes,

4 November, 1500

Niccolo Machiavelli

21 November, 1500

Tours

LETTER XXVI.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

On the 4th instant I wrote to our illustrious Signoria in reply to two of their despatches of the 11th and 21st ultimo. His Majesty the king having since then left Nantes for Tours, I resolved not to separate myself from the court (although they went by cross-roads); thinking that your Lordships’ answer to the propositions which Odoardo Bugliotto had gone to  submit on the part of his Majesty to our illustrious Signoria might arrive during this time. And this happened just as I had supposed; for just as his Majesty reached Champagne, a small village about ten leagues from Tours, the letters from your Lordships arrived, with the answer given by our illustrious Signoria to Odoardo. But as I arrived on the 18th at about two o’clock in the night, I put off until morning to ask for an audience and to speak in accordance with your Lordships’ instructions. The next morning I went to court, and by chance found his Eminence the Cardinal d’Amboise alone and unoccupied. I deemed it best to seize this opportunity, notwithstanding my intention to speak first to his Majesty the king, and approaching his Eminence I told him that I had received letters from your Lordships, with a copy of the answer given to Odoardo; but that it was hardly worth while to repeat it to him, as his Majesty had been fully informed of it by Odoardo himself. I added that your Lordships felt persuaded that their answer and resolution would not be entirely satisfactory to his Majesty, considering the necessities to which circumstances had exposed him. But considering, on the other hand, the anxieties which your Lordships had experienced, and to which you were still exposed, and the heavy expenses which your Lordships had borne, and were still compelled to bear from not being able to recover your possessions, and from your desire to sustain the name and fame of France in Italy, you could not believe but what his Most Christian Majesty would accept their resolution, and would be satisfied to bear for a short time the delay in the payment of a portion of the amount claimed, in recognition of the services which our republic had rendered to him. And if to this were added the restitution of Pietrasanta, which would be no more than reasonable, and which your Lordships’ fidelity had so well merited, and to which a strict observance of the treaty stipulations and the malevolence of the Lucchese fairly entitled you, it would completely resuscitate our republic, and would encourage the Florentine people to devote their substance and their blood to the service of his Most Christian Majesty; and would so restore their credit and reputation, that neither the Pope nor the Venetians would venture to assail their state or their liberties, as they are now presuming to do. I enlarged upon these points as much as the subject and the patience of the Cardinal  would permit. His Eminence replied that it was true that, by your answer to Odoardo, your Lordships confessed your indebtedness to his Majesty, and had ordered an immediate payment of ten thousand ducats at Milan; but that this did not satisfy his Majesty, who had suffered great inconvenience from having disbursed this money for your account; and that it would be of no use to argue in favor of your Lordships, unless the whole amount had actually been paid; and that myself, as well as the ambassador, whenever he should arrive, must expect an unfavorable answer from the king. As his Eminence afforded me the time to do so, I replied by showing him at length that his Majesty’s displeasure, if real, was nevertheless very unreasonable; not because he wanted to have back what belonged to him, but in failing to look at it in the way a father should towards his sons, which would be to accept their acts, not according to his wishes, but according to their ability. I enlarged upon this view of the matter with such arguments as the nature of the case suggested; but could obtain no other conclusion from his Eminence than that this money was required by his Majesty to pay the men-at-arms which he had in Lombardy; still, if your Lordships wanted a little time on a portion of this money, they would have to come to an understanding about it with Monseigneurs d’Aubigny and de Chaumont, governors at Milan; and if they were willing to wait a few months, his Majesty would also be satisfied. I observed that this was not the answer which I had anticipated, and which our republic had confidently counted upon. And as I knew that it would only humiliate and discourage your Lordships, I was not willing to communicate it; for I felt persuaded that your Lordships, deprived of all hope of achieving any good, would give yourselves up to despair; and believing that such an answer would neither be of advantage to his Majesty nor to your Lordships, I was not willing to write it; but would rather wait in the hope of a different response, such as your Lordships merited for your good faith, as well as for the actual services rendered to his Most Christian Majesty. Unable to obtain anything else from his Eminence, I took my leave, and the same morning saw his Majesty the king, and spoke to him in the same spirit; and in the most earnest and effective language that I could command, I pointed out to his Majesty how faithful your Lordships had ever been to him, and how sincere your  desire was to satisfy him; and how easy it was for his Majesty to show his affection for your Lordships. I also explained the reasons that made the immediate payment of the amount due to his Majesty quite impossible at this moment, etc. But not to weary your Lordships by repeating the same thing over and over again, I will merely state that I omitted to say nothing that I thought would be of service for his Majesty to hear on this subject. But I could obtain nothing from him except the usual complaints as to the money paid out by him, and the dishonor to his arms by our fault. And although I replied in a becoming manner to all these complaints, yet I failed to convince his Majesty upon any one point, nor did I succeed in gaining any other fruit from this interview.

After that we came on to Tours on the same day, and there had a conversation with a friend from whom I have been in the habit of obtaining secret information about the Pope, and more particularly as to the negotiations now going on between the Pope and the Venetians. He confided to me that the ambassador of his Majesty of France at present at Venice, suborned by the Pope’s ambassador, had stated in the Venetian Senate that he had learned from various sources, all worthy of faith, that the Florentines, the Bolognese, the Duke of Ferrara, and the Marquis of Mantua had formed a close league amongst themselves, under the pretext of mutual defence of their states, but in reality for the purpose of turning their combined arms against his Majesty of France, whenever the Emperor of Germany should make an attack upon Lombardy. And that your illustrious Signoria ought to be very careful to inform his Majesty of this, from a feeling of obligation to him for all the benefits received, etc., etc. My friend told me furthermore, that, when the French ambassador made this statement to the Senate, they replied, that this was very probable, for the parties named were all armed, and pretended to be dissatisfied with the conduct of the French; that the Senate would write to their ambassador, and that he also ought to write to the king about it.

This friend of mine told me, moreover, that the Pope’s ambassador here had express instructions to persuade the king of the truth of this statement, and to suggest that he could easily avert this trouble by putting Piero de’ Medici in power again in Florence, and in that way establish a government there that would be entirely devoted to his Majesty. That by doing this  he would deprive Ferrara, Mantua, and Bologna of their head, and thus prevent them from carrying on their machinations against the king. Adding to all this, that inasmuch as the Cardinal de’ Medici was a churchman, it was the duty of his Holiness to act thus, particularly as this Cardinal had supplicated the Pope to aid him in his efforts to re-enter his own country and home; and that his Holiness, moved by just such prayers, had been compelled to consent to grant him such aid. But that his Holiness asked no other help from his Majesty the king than to preserve a strict neutrality; and that by consenting to this, and showing that he had abandoned your friendship, and withdrawn the protection hitherto extended to the other princes, he would add to the Pope’s credit and reputation to that degree, that in a short time he should feel encouraged with his own forces, and such as the Venetians would furnish him, to deprive Giovanni Bentivogli of his state, and to compel your Lordships to re-establish Piero de’ Medici in Florence; and that thus he would make Ferrara and Mantua come to him with the halter around their necks. And by way of giving still more credit to this enterprise and to his desire, the Pope begged his Majesty, besides granting his consent, also to send a few hundred lances to the borders of the Bolognese territory, whilst the Venetians would send theirs where they would be of most use.

My friend tells me, furthermore, that all these things are already done, and that they urge, beg, and importune his Majesty the king to give his sanction to it all; and that it was for no other purpose that they had brought Piero de’ Medici from France to Pisa, but to have him near at hand for the execution of their designs.

Upon hearing all this, which seemed to me a plot worthy of our Most Holy Father the Pope, I resolved to say something to his Eminence of Amboise on the subject; and seizing the first suitable moment, I complained to his Eminence of the malignity of your Lordships’ enemies, but spoke only in general terms, without mentioning either the Pope or the Venetians; saying that they persuaded themselves they could make his Majesty the king believe that your Lordships wanted to alienate themselves from him; that I did not want, for the purpose of opposing these rash and infamous calumnies, to allege either our good faith in the past, nor the present proofs of it, but wished merely to show how unreasonable it was that your Lordships  should hope for help from the Emperor, who had not even been able to help or defend Milan, which was regarded as belonging to him; and that knowing this you should be willing to make an enemy of a king whom your Lordships imagined they had laid under obligations to them, by so many perils and expenditures which they had borne and incurred for his sake. Nor could I comprehend how the Bolognese or the Ferrarese could place their hopes on any one else but his Majesty of France, being by the very position of their states obliged, under all circumstances, to follow the fortunes of whoever possessed Milan; the one from fear of the Pope, and the other from dread of the Venetians. But that his Majesty ought to be well on his guard against those who sought the destruction of his friends, for no other purpose than their own aggrandizement, and to enable them the more easily to wrench Italy from his hands. That his Majesty ought to prevent all this by adopting the practice of sovereigns who wish to establish their power in a foreign province; namely, to weaken the powerful, conciliate the subjected, sustain their friends, and to beware of associates, that is to say, of such as want to exercise an equal share of power with them in that province. And if his Majesty would look around and see who were the parties that desired to be his associates and share his power in Italy, he would find that it was not your Lordships, nor Ferrara, nor Bologna, but those who in the past had always sought to dominate the country.

His Eminence heard me patiently, and then replied, that the king was in the highest degree prudent; that his ears were long, but his belief short; that he listened to everything, but put faith only in what he could touch with his hands and prove true. And that besides having written to Rome and Milan some time ago, when I had first spoken to him on the subject, he had only three days since written again, of his own motion, and in the most earnest manner, in commendation of your interests. And that although Monseigneur d’Allegri had been allowed to go with a hundred lances into the Romagna to aid the Duke Valentino, yet it was with the express injunction in every way to favor your interests; and that your Lordships would see, when your ambassador arrived, that his Majesty would not be wanting in his duty, if you did not fail on your part, and offered more acceptable terms as to the payment of the money due him. Since then Robertet has spoken to me in the same  spirit, assuring me that his Majesty would not himself do anything wrong towards you, nor would he permit others to do so, if only the Florentines would not harm themselves by their disunion and by harboring within their walls persons who had little love for the liberties of the republic; to which, he said, your Lordships ought to look carefully. In replying to his Eminence I had no difficulty in justifying your Lordships upon this matter of disunion, the idea of which it is above all things important to remove from their minds, for the mere belief of it would produce as bad consequences here as the reality would with you in Florence.

I have nothing further of interest to communicate, for no one speaks of the propositions which the German ambassadors have brought. Those who visit them are observed and noted, as well as those who talk about them with too much curiosity.

Whilst writing I received a letter from Pier Francesco Tosinghi, in answer to several of mine, which I addressed to him at a venture. I learn from this letter that his Magnificence arrived at Lyons on the 2d instant, and was to have left there on the 15th on his way here. I expect him with impatience, and may God grant him better fortune than what those have had who have hitherto been charged with this mission.

I recommend myself to the good graces of your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secretary.

Tours,

21 November, 1500

Niccolo Machiavelli

24 November, 1500

Tours

LETTER XXVII.

Magnificent Signori: —

On the 21st instant I replied to your Lordships’ letter, and informed you fully of what his Majesty and the Cardinal d’Amboise had told me about the answer given by the Illustrious Signoria of Florence to Odoardo. I also wrote you about the intrigues set on foot by the Pope and the Venetians for the purpose of making your Lordships suspected to his Majesty, and what D’Amboise had said to me on the subject. Although I have nothing of special interest to say, yet I will not lose the  opportunity of some one’s going to Italy to inform your Lordships of what has occurred here since my last.

Not being altogether satisfied with the answer made me by the resolution which your Lordships have recently taken with regard to the sum claimed by his Majesty; and news having reached here that the Duke Valentino had seized the Val di Lamona, and that he counted upon obtaining possession of Faenza erelong, and then hearing that Piero de’ Medici was at Pisa, and moreover that a new ambassador had arrived from Lucca, with instructions, it is said, to pay at once ten thousand ducats to his Majesty on condition that Pietrasanta should be given up to them; and in addition to all this that Messrs. de la Palisse and de Chatillon had been sent by the queen to Pisa as governors; — in view of all this, I say, I determined to present myself once more before his Majesty. I pointed out to him again, that if the answer given by our illustrious Signoria to Odoardo was not exactly according to his Majesty’s wishes, it was owing to the absolute impossibility of doing better, in consequence of the heavy expenses to which you had been and continued to be subjected, having the victorious army of the Duke Valentino on your borders, who constantly threatened to assail your Lordships, not so much with his own forces as with those of his Majesty, and who constantly boasts of being thus supported, which is calculated to produce very bad effects unless his Majesty promptly put a stop to it. To all this his Majesty replied at once: “Why, we have written in duplicate to our lieutenants in Italy, that, if the Duke Valentino should attempt anything against the Florentines or the Bolognese, they should instantly march against the Duke Valentino, so that upon this point you may rest in perfect security.”

And then his Majesty began his usual complaints; and as to the other matters that I had touched upon, namely, the queen’s having sent governors to Pisa, and the proposition of the Lucchese with regard to Pietrasanta, his Majesty replied, in general terms, that we had broken our agreements with him in not having at the very first made payment of the money due him, and that even now we were not willing to do so in a way that he might avail himself of. And to all I could say or allege, (and I talked to him so long that I feared to abuse his patience,) I could obtain no further reply. And when I finally  said to him that your ambassador would be here within two days, he answered, “Perhaps he may come too late.”

Thereupon I left his Majesty and went to seek Robertet, and in discussing with him all I have written above, he told me there was no truth in the story of Monseigneur de la Palisse having been sent to Pisa; and that if Piero de’ Medici was really at Pisa, he was not there by order of the king, but because he had been called there by the Duke Valentino, to see whether his presence there could in any way advance the Duke’s projects. And that it was perfectly true that his Majesty had written three times, or even oftener, to his lieutenants in favor of your Lordships and of the Bolognese; adding, under a pledge of secrecy, “That the success of the Duke Valentino had become very distasteful to his Majesty.” And as to the Lucchese, he told me that they were making every possible effort to get Pietrasanta back again, offering ten thousand ducats, and even more, for it, and that there was danger of their success owing to the king’s dissatisfaction with your tardiness in paying his claims. And when I had replied to all this in a becoming manner, he stated as his general conclusion, that according to his own judgment, as well as what he had heard others say to his Majesty the king and to the Cardinal d’Amboise respecting your Lordships’ interests, it seemed to him certain that, if your Lordships would endeavor not to injure yourselves, when it came to the proof, you need never apprehend anything that was not for your advantage. And with this assurance I took my leave of his Lordship. I now await the arrival of the ambassador with the greatest impatience, so as to see what turn your affairs will take, and to be able to judge of them more correctly.

I will only now remind your Lordships, with the utmost respect, of a matter that we wrote about very fully on our first coming here, but which we have not touched upon since, partly because we did not wish to appear presumptuous, and also because you have in Florence some extremely prudent citizens, who are much more experienced than ourselves in the ways of this court; namely, that your Lordships should arrange to have some one here who will act as your friend, and who will defend and protect your interests, the same as is done by all others who have any business with this court; and indeed I cannot but think that the ambassador who is coming here is  fully prepared upon this point. And I can assure your Lordships that, if your ambassador cannot at least give some proofs of gratitude to Robertet, he will find himself completely at a loss here, to such an extent and degree that he will hardly be able to expedite an ordinary letter.

The embassy from Germany, which consists of a M. Philip de Nanso (Nassau) and two other gentlemen, had yesterday its first audience of his Majesty the king. There were present the Cardinal d’Amboise, Monseigneurs de la Tremouille and d’Aubigny, the Grand Chancellor, the Maréchal de Gié, the Prince of Orange, the Marquis de Rothelin, and Monseigneur de Clary, together with the ambassadors of the Pope, of Spain, and of Venice, and three or four Italian gentlemen. The address of the ambassadors was in ordinary and general terms, to the effect that the Empire deemed it necessary that all Christendom should arm for the purpose of putting a stop to the violence of the infidels; and that, unless this were done, the Christian republic would with difficulty be able to maintain itself against the daily spoliations of the Turk. And as it was impossible for all Christendom to arm, unless peace prevailed between the Empire and his most Christian Majesty, as chiefs of Christendom, they had been sent here for no other purpose than to promote such a peace. The ambassador touched upon no other point in his address, and employed only such words and phrases as are customary on similar ceremonious occasions. After the audience his Majesty appointed four commissioners to negotiate this treaty of peace. This commission consists of his Eminence the Cardinal, the Grand Chancellor, Monseigneur de Bourbon, and the Maréchal de Gié; and the whole is to be completed this week, after which, it is said, his Majesty will leave for Blois; and nothing more is said about Lyons.

I recommend myself to the good graces of your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secretary.

Tours,

24 November, 1500

Niccolo Machiavelli

24 November, 1500

Tours

LETTER XXVIII.

Magnificent Signori: —

Having received several letters from the Magistracy of the Ten, in reply to several of my despatches addressed to your Lordships, and having in turn informed the said Magistracy of all that relates to the interests of our republic, I deem it superfluous to repeat the same things to your most excellent Lordships. The only thing that induces me to write now is to present my homage to your Lordships, and to recommend myself most humbly to your good graces. I am furthermore moved to write by the affection I bear to Messer Giulio Scurcigliati of Naples; not for any particular service that he has rendered to me personally, but because of his warm, fruitful, constant, and affectionate labors in favor of the liberties of our republic. And therefore I beg most earnestly to recommend this gentleman to your Lordships; and humbly to ask that, if you desire to have him continue your friend and defender here, and if your Lordships do not wish to be charged with ingratitude by the whole court here at seeing all Messer Giulio’s services unrecognized, you will be pleased to aid him with your sovereign hand, and to favor him by looking into the litigation in which he is involved with the heirs of Pierantonio Bandini. For I assure your Lordships that when he received the news, some three days ago, that a decision in the matter had not been rendered because of the inhibition, etc., etc., he became so furious at the wrong which he conceived had been done him, that, if I had not been present, he would have rushed to the court to cry out and complain of the injury, etc.

He complains of several things: firstly, that your Lordships had remitted his case to the ordinary tribunal, whilst it ought to have been summarily adjudged by your Lordships yourselves; secondly, that this ordinary tribunal had so protracted the matter that it afforded time to his adversaries to obtain an order of inhibition; thirdly, that the woman has been relieved from banishment; and fourthly, that the person who is charged with watching his interests at Florence has deprived him of all hope of being able to obtain his rights by these proceedings; and finally, that in the inhibition his adversaries  had called him “merchant and usurer.” He claims that he asks no more than his own capital, and is willing to forego all accrued interest.

So far as I am concerned, Magnificent Signori, I know nothing of Scurcigliati’s case, but I do know that so long as your relations with his Majesty are so uncertain, and as it were in the air, few persons can be of service to you, whilst it is in every one’s power to injure you; and therefore I have thought it not amiss, but rather necessary on the whole, to manage this man and temporize with him. And if you do not, he will, at the receipt of the first letter from Florence, rush like lightning through the court, and the evil he will say of you will be more readily believed than all the good he has said before. For he is a man of some influence and credit here, — a fluent talker, most audacious, importunate, and terrible, and of uncontrollable passions, — and therefore apt to carry through whatever he undertakes. I have enlarged upon this matter solely from my devotion to my country; and my belief that it was for her good has made me write as I have done. Your most excellent Lordships will, I trust, hold me excused, and will act in the whole matter with your wonted goodness and wisdom.

I recommend myself most humbly to your Lordships.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Tours,

24 November, 1500

THE MAGISTRACY OF THE TEN TO FRANCESCO DELLA CASA AND NICCOLO MACHIAVELLI.

Spectabiles Viri, etc. —

As we have promised you several times that upon the arrival of our ambassador at court we would give you leave to return here, we have this day passed a resolution to that effect, inasmuch as two days since we had letters from our said ambassador, dated the last day of November, announcing his arrival. And having replied to him and instructed him  upon all points that occurred to us, we have nothing to communicate to you except to instruct you to return here as soon as you can, which we do herewith. Before leaving, you will give full information to the ambassador of all that you have done during your stay at court.

Bene valete!

Ex Palatio Florentino,

12 December, 1500

MISSION TO THE DUKE OF VALENTINOIS. October 5, 1502.

Cesare Borgia, second son of Pope Alexander VI., was originally intended for the Church, and had been made Cardinal of Valence by his father. But after the assassination of his elder brother, the Duke of Gandia, charged by all the writers of the day upon Cesare, he doffed the cardinal’s hat and eagerly seized the sword as more congenial to him. His father, the Pope, granted him a bull of secularization, and sent him with letters of credence and strong recommendations to King Louis XII. of France, as bearer of the Pope’s bull dissolving the marriage of the King with the Queen Jeanne, thus enabling Louis XII. to marry Anne of Brittany, widow of King Charles VIII., of whom he had been enamored whilst yet Duke of Orleans. At the same time Cesare Borgia was bearer of the cardinal’s hat for Georges d’Amboise, Archbishop of Rouen and prime minister of Louis XII. In recognition of these services the king, who had already made Cesare Duke of Valentinois, gave him for wife Carlotta d’Albret, daughter of the Sieur d’Albret; and from Cardinal d’Amboise he obtained the promise of aid and support in the establishment of a state for himself in the Romagna, which had been given him by his father, Pope Alexander VI., together with the command of the papal forces. The Romagna, however, was at that time occupied by a number of petty lords and despots, some of whom were employed by the Duke of Valentinois as captains of his troops. These fearing lest the Duke would dispossess them, met in secret at Magione, in the Perugian territory, to devise measures for thwarting the Duke’s projects. Immediately after his return from France, however, the Duke pushed his military movements with extraordinary energy and skill, and very quickly made himself master of Faenza, Urbino, etc. Feeling the importance of having the support and alliance of the Florentine republic, whose territory adjoined the Romagna, Cesare requested the Signoria of Florence to send an ambassador to him with whom he could treat of these matters. The Signoria accordingly sent Francesco Soderini, Cardinal of Volterra, and Niccolo Machiavelli to him at Urbino; but the demands of the Duke for an alliance and a change in the government of Florence, by which he hoped to facilitate his future plans of conquest in Tuscany, were such as the envoys could not accede to. The Duke gave them four days for a final reply, during which Machiavelli returned to Florence for the purpose of consulting the government; the result  of which was that the Signoria wrote to Soderini to inform the Duke of the impossibility of their complying with his demands.

Meantime, however, the Florentine government became still more alarmed by the disturbances in the Val di Chiano and Arezzo, which had been stirred up by some of the Duke’s captains, especially Vitellozzo Vitelli. Although these disturbances were quieted and Arezzo restored to the Florentines by the intervention of the French, yet they had produced such an impression upon the Florentine government that they resolved on the 5th of October, 1502, to despatch Machiavelli on a special mission to the Duke of Valentinois and to remain near him and watch his movements. This is the mission that gave rise to the following despatches from Machiavelli to the Signoria, which are of the highest interest, especially as they contain an authentic account of the proceedings of the Duke of Valentinois at Sinigaglia in killing Vitellozzo Vitelli, Oliverotto da Fermo, and the Signor Paolo and the Duke Gravina Orsini.

COMMISSION GIVEN TO NICCOLO MACHIAVELLI, 5TH OCTOBER, 1502.

Niccolo, —

We send you to his Excellency the Duke Valentino at Imola, with letters of credence, and you will proceed thither as speedily as possible. At your first interview you will explain to his Excellency that we have learnt within the last few days that, after his return to Romagna, the Orsini have become alienated and detached from his Excellency; that they have appointed a meeting with their adherents at Magione, in the Perugian territory, and that according to current report the Duke of Urbino and the Signor Bartolommeo del Viano are also to be there for the purpose of negotiating and adopting some project against his Excellency, which we regard as equally directed against his Most Christian Majesty the king of France. Also, that we have been cunningly invited to send a deputy there, with the view to coming to some understanding with them. But that we continue the same as ever disposed and resolved to remain good friends with the Sovereign Pontiff and his Excellency, and firmly resolved not to separate ourselves from them, nor from our devotion to the king of France, on whose friendship and protection our republic depends. And that therefore, when his interests are in question, or those of his allies or their adherents, we cannot do otherwise than to make known to him what is going on and what we hear, and  to do our duty towards him as good friends. And that for these reasons we have sent you promptly to his Excellency, as the importance of the matter seemed to demand it, to assure him anew that, in the midst of these movements of our neighbors, we are resolved to have due regard for what concerns him, and to continue our good will towards him the same as ever. For we regard all the friends of France as our friends, and whenever their interests are concerned ours are equally involved. This seems to us sufficient for your first audience, in which you will in every way show his Excellency that we place every degree of hope and confidence in him. You may enlarge upon all this as the occasion may prompt you, amplifying your remarks with all the circumstances that bear upon the subject, and which we need not specify as you are fully informed upon this whole matter. But we desire you not to go outside of it, nor to touch upon any other subject. And should his Excellency question you beyond this, you will reserve to yourself to communicate with us and await our reply. After this first exposé, either at the same audience or at a subsequent one, you will state to his Excellency that you have been particularly instructed to thank him most cordially for the service which he has rendered to our merchants in ordering the restoration of those cloths that had been retained at Urbino for several months, and which, according to the news in our markets to-day, have been restored to the agents of those merchants in a most friendly and courteous manner; and you will say to his Excellency that we regard this service as having been done to ourselves personally, as well as to our republic. And after that, when a favorable opportunity presents itself, you will ask his Excellency in our name to grant security and safe conduct to the goods of our merchants on their passage through his states and territories on their way to and from the Levant. As this is an object of the greatest importance to us, commerce being as it were the vital part of our republic, you will use your best efforts to achieve the success we so much desire.

Niccolo Machiavelli

7th October, 1502

LETTER I.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

Finding myself not well on horseback at my departure from Florence, and believing that my commission required all speed, I took the post at Scarperia and came here without loss of time, arriving to-day at about the eighteenth hour. Having left my horses and servants behind, I presented myself at once, in my travelling costume, to his Excellency, who received me most graciously. After presenting my credentials, I explained to his Excellency the object of my coming, beginning by thanking him for the restitution of the cloths. I then spoke of the defection of the Orsini, of their meeting with their adherents, how they had cunningly endeavored to induce your Lordships to unite with them, and of your disposition in regard to your friendship with the king of France and your devotion to the Church, amplifying in the best manner I could the reasons that bind you in friendship to these two powers, and caused you to avoid any alliance with their adversaries. I assured him that under all circumstances your Lordships would have every consideration for the interests of his Excellency consistent with your friendship for the king of France and your ancient devotion to the Church, as well as the affection which you had ever borne to his Excellency, regarding as you do all the friends of France as your allies and particular friends.

His Excellency made no reply to what I said respecting the restitution of the merchandise, but, passing to the other matters, he thanked your Lordships for your offers and obliging demonstrations. After that he said that he had always desired your friendship, and that, if he had failed to obtain it, it was owing more to the malice of others than to any fault of his own, — adding that he wished to relate to me what he had never before told any one respecting his coming to Florence with his army. And then he told me that ever since the taking of Faenza, and his attempt upon Bologna, the Orsini and the Vitelli had been after him trying to persuade him to return to Rome by way of Florence, which he had refused, because the Pope, by a special brief, had instructed him differently. That thereupon Vitellozzo had thrown himself at his feet, weeping, and begging him to come that way, and promising him that no harm of any  kind should be done either to the country or the city. But that, still refusing to consent, they had so beset him with prayers to that effect, that he finally yielded, but under a pledge on their part that no damage should be done to the country, and that the subject of the Medici should not be mentioned.

Wishing, however, to derive some benefit from his coming to Florence, he had thought of availing of the opportunity to form a friendship with your Lordships, which is proved by the fact that he had engaged in no negotiations, or had hardly said one word respecting the Medici, a fact well known by the commissioner who had treated with him, and that he never allowed Piero de’ Medici to come to his camp. And that whilst they were at Campi the Orsini and the Vitelli had repeatedly asked permission of him to present themselves at Florence or at Pistoja, showing him how they could strike some successful blows; but that so far from consenting, he had made them understand by a thousand protests that he would rather fight them himself. That afterwards, when the treaty was concluded, the Orsini and the Vitelli, on pretence that he had consulted only his own interests and not theirs, and that his coming to Florence had been solely for his benefit and to their injury, had tried by dishonest means to break the treaty; and had committed all sorts of outrages for the purpose of giving offence to your Lordships, and to disturb the good understanding between yourselves and him. Nor had it been possible for him to remedy these outrages, because he could not be in all places at once; and also because your Lordships had not paid him the subsidies stipulated and provided for. Thus matters had remained until the month of June past, when the revolt of Arezzo occurred, respecting which he told me, the same as he had previously told the Bishop of Volterra, that he had not heard anything until then. Still he was pleased that it had occurred, for he thought the occasion might be used to render your Lordships a service that would merit your acknowledgments. But that even then nothing was done, either because of the ill-luck of both parties, or because our republic was not disposed to treat and conclude an arrangement that would have been mutually advantageous, which, however, had not caused him much uneasiness. But being disposed to render you a service, and knowing the wishes of the king, he had  written and at once had sent messengers to Vitellozzo to withdraw from Arezzo. And not content with this, he had himself gone with his troops to Citta di Castello, and could easily have deprived Vitellozzo of his state, for the principal inhabitants had come to offer themselves to him; and this, he said, was the cause of Vitellozzo’s ill-will and dissatisfaction. As to the Orsini, he said that he really knew not what had given rise to their indignation and their departure from the court of Rome without leave of the Pope. Subsequently, when they saw that his Majesty the king had treated him better than the Cardinal of their name, and had bestowed great honors upon him, to which came furthermore certain reports that had been spread that he intended to deprive them of their possessions, then the Orsini abandoned him, and joined that gathering of bankrupts at Magione. And although he had received several messages from Signor Giulio Orsino, protesting that they had no intention of opposing him, etc., etc., yet he knew full well that the reason why they did not wish to declare themselves openly against him was that they had received his money. But if ever they did so declare themselves, he would look upon them as greater fools than he had ever supposed them to be, for not knowing how to choose a better moment for injuring him than the present, when the king of France was in Italy, and his Holiness the Pope still alive; two circumstances that had kindled such a fire in his favor as all the water the Orsini could command would not quench. Nor did he care much about their stirring up the duchy of Urbino, for he had not yet forgotten the way to reconquer it, in case he should lose it.

His Excellency then added, that now was the moment to oblige him, if your Lordships really wished to be his friends, for he could now form an alliance with you regardless of the Orsini, which he had never before been able to do. But if your Lordships were to defer it, and he in the mean time should make up with the Orsini, which they sought by all means to bring about, then he would be bound again by the same considerations as before. And as no arrangement would satisfy the Orsini that did not re-establish the Medici, your Lordships would be exposed to the same difficulties and jealousies as before. He therefore thought that your Lordships should anyhow declare yourselves at once either his friends or theirs, as delay might bring about an agreement between him and the Orsini, that  would be prejudicial to you. For in the case of victory of either party, the successful one would either remain your enemy, or would anyhow be under no obligations to your Lordships. And his Excellency says that when you come to decide upon this matter, which of necessity you will have to do, he does not see how you can take a different course from that in which his Majesty the king of France and his Holiness the Pope concur; adding, at the same time, that it would be most agreeable to him, in case that Vitellozzo or any other should make an attempt upon any of his states, that you should cause whatever troops you have to advance either towards the Borgo or to the frontiers of his states, for the purpose of sustaining his cause.

I listened with the utmost attention to the above remarks of his Excellency, and have given you in full, not only their substance, but his very words, so that your Lordships may be able to form a better judgment of it all. Not deeming it important, I shall not relate what I answered, but I was careful not to go outside of my instructions. In relation to the subject of the troops I made no reply at all, but merely said that I would report to your Lordships his excellent disposition, which I had no doubt would give you signal pleasure. And although, as you will perceive, his Excellency manifested a great desire that a treaty between yourselves and him should be promptly concluded, yet notwithstanding my efforts to get at his real thoughts, he always avoided the subject, so that I did not succeed in getting more from him than what I have written.

But having heard on my arrival here that there had been some disturbances in the duchy of Urbino, and his Excellency having said in the course of his remarks that he did not attach any importance to the troubles in that duchy, it seemed to me not amiss, in the course of my reply, to ask him how this matter had occurred. To this his Excellency made answer:— “My clemency and disregard of these things have done me harm. You are aware that I took that duchy in three days without hurting a hair of any one’s head, with the exception of Messer Dolce and two others, who had made open opposition to his Holiness the Pope. And what is more, I had even confided the public offices of that state to many of its principal citizens, and had placed one of them in charge of a certain  wall which I had ordered to be built in the citadel of San Leo. A couple of days ago, under pretence of raising a beam, this individual concerted a plot with certain peasants, that enabled him to obtain possession of that citadel by force, and thus I lost it. Some say that they raised the cry of St. Mark, others say that of the Vitelli or the Orsini; but up to the present, neither one nor the other have openly declared themselves. Now, although I give up that duchy for lost, it being a weak and feeble state, and its inhabitants dissatisfied in consequence of my having burdened them heavily with my troops, yet I hope to put all this matter right again. And you must write to your Signori to look well to their own affairs, and to let us hear from them promptly; for if the Duke of Urbino returns to his duchy from Venice, it will not be for their advantage, and still less for ours; and this should cause us to have more confidence in each other.”

This is all I am at present able to communicate to your Lordships; and although my duty would require me to write you how many troops the Duke has, and where they are stationed, as well as many other particulars respecting the state of things here, yet, having arrived only to-day, it is impossible for me to ascertain the exact truth, and I therefore reserve all that for another time, and recommend myself to your Lordships.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

7th October, 1502

P. S. — I have kept this letter until the sixteenth hour of this morning, because my courier had no horse and was not able to find one until now. I have to add, that, in the course of conversation last evening, his Excellency told me that Pandolfo Petrucci had sent a disguised messenger to him on the previous evening to assure him that he would not countenance any one that opposed his Excellency, and that he had given him the most positive assurances to that effect. On my way here yesterday, I met Messer Agapito about two miles from here with some seven or eight cavaliers; and, recognizing me, he asked where I was going, and who it was that sent me. He gave me a cordial welcome, but after having gone on his way  a short distance he turned back. This morning I have learnt that said Messer Agapito was on his way to Florence, being sent on a mission to your Lordships by his Excellency the Duke, and that my coming caused him to return.

Iterum valete!

8th October, 1502. — I have given the bearer of this two ducats, so that he might be at Florence by to-morrow, the 9th, before daylight. I beg you will have that sum reimbursed to Ser Agostini Vespucci.

Niccolo Machiavelli

9 October, 1502

Imola

LETTER II.

Magnificent Signori: —

I wrote to your Lordships yesterday, and sent my letter by Campriano, who was to reach Florence this morning before day, for which I paid him two ducats, which I beg you will reimburse to Messer Agostino Vespucci. The courier Ardingo arrived here this morning with letters for several private persons; and as he brought none for me from your Lordships, I fear they were either left at Florence or lost on the road, and I remain in doubt as to how this has occurred.

As this courier is to return to Florence, I have concluded to write you by him what has taken place here since my first despatch. Being at court to day at about the twentieth hour, the Duke sent for me and told me that he wished to communicate some news he had received, so that I might give the information to your Lordships. He showed me a letter from Monseigneur d’Arles, the Pope’s ambassador in France, dated the 4th instant, in which he writes that the king and the Cardinal d’Amboise were well disposed to do what might be agreeable to him; and that so soon as they heard of his desire to have troops for his attempt upon Bologna, they had sent word to M. de Chaumont at Milan to send without delay M. de Lanques with three hundred lances to the Duke; and that if his Excellency should require it, he was to go with three hundred more lances towards Parma. He had sent to his Excellency a copy of the letter which the king had written to the said Chaumont, which the Duke read to me aloud, and wanted me to see the signature of  M. d’Arles, as well as the letter written to him. I recognized the handwriting, having seen it often in France and at Florence. In fact, according to that copy, it would be impossible to give more explicit orders for the moving of these troops.

After having read these letters his Excellency said to me: “You see now, Secretary, that letter was written in reply to my request for an attack upon Bologna, and you will note how very positive it is. You may imagine, then, what I could obtain for the purpose of defending myself against those, the greater part of whom his Majesty looks upon as his worst enemies; for they have always sought to cause him some check in Italy. Believe me that this is a great thing for me, and the Vitelli and Orsini could not have declared against me at a time when they could have harmed me less. Nor could I have desired anything more advantageous for the consolidation of my states, for I shall know now against whom I shall have to be on my guard, and who are my real friends. And even if under these circumstances the Venetians were to declare against me, which I do not believe they will do, neither myself nor the king of France could desire anything better. I give you this information, and will make known to you from time to time what takes place, so that you may communicate it to your Signori, and so that they may see that I am far from abandoning my own case, and that I am not lacking in friends, amongst whom I should be glad to count your Signori, provided they promptly give me so to understand. And if they do not do so now, I shall leave them aside, and though I had the water up to my throat I should nevermore talk about friendship with them; though I should always regret having a neighbor to whom I could not render friendly service nor receive any from him.”

Thereupon the Duke asked me when I thought an answer would come to the letter I wrote yesterday to your Lordships; to which I replied, that I thought it ought not to be later than Wednesday. I then thanked his Excellency for having communicated to me those letters, and for his desire to entertain relations of friendship with our republic, expressing myself in such terms as I knew would be satisfactory to his Excellency, whilst at the same time I kept strictly within your Lordships’ instructions. His Excellency said also that he had forgotten, when I had spoken to him on a previous occasion, to reply to  that part of my remarks in which I expressed your Lordships’ thanks for the restitution of the cloths, saying that he had done it most cheerfully and would always act in the same way whenever an opportunity occurred to render you a service; and that he had had more trouble to defend these cloths against the Orsini than any other business had ever caused him; that it had been from the first his intention to restore these cloths of his own accord, and without the intercession of any one, as that was his way of rendering a service. I thereupon asked the Duke for a general safe-conduct for all our citizens, which he promptly agreed to give, saying, however, that he did not understand such matters, and that I must speak with Messer Alessandro Spannochi about it, and prepare it with him, which I shall not fail to do. His Excellency having thus referred me in this matter to Messer Alessandro, I shall have to shape my course to suit his views; and although I have reason to believe, from the experience of the past, that he is well disposed towards us, yet I think it would be well if some of our merchants who stand well with him were to write to him and dispose him still more favorably; although I deem it well to caution those merchants not to venture too far in this matter, for in these days of change a country often belongs one day to one master and the next day to another.

His Excellency has talked to me again about the affair of San Leo, much to the same effect as I wrote you in my last; but says that only two small castles in the neighborhood of San Leo have revolted, whilst all the other places are still undecided, and that neither the Orsini nor the Vitelli have as yet made any open demonstrations against him. He told me also that three days since a certain Chevalier Orsino, one of the gentlemen of his suite, had gone to see the Orsini and the Vitelli, and that he looked momentarily for his return; and that Pandolfo continued to write him frequently and to send him messages to the effect that he had no intention of doing anything adverse to him.

On taking my leave of his Excellency he reminded me again to recall to your Lordships that if you remained undecided you would certainly lose, whilst by uniting with him you might be victorious.

I cannot express in writing with what demonstrations of affection the Duke spoke, and what efforts he made to justify  the past, in all of which the chief persons of his court concur. Although I tell your Lordships all this, yet it is not likely that the Duke will long remain in this mood; his object is to know clearly your intentions, if not by your first, then by your second answer. I wish to make this known to your Lordships, for if you judge that the course which I have suggested is a good one, you must not persuade yourselves that you will always be in time to adopt it; for the Duke told me at the first interview that, although for the moment he was not obliged to have any considerations for the Orsini, yet such would be the case if he should become reconciled with them. This manifests itself in many ways that are easier to understand than to explain in writing. I beg your Lordships, therefore, to come to some decision, and to write me how I am to bear myself in this matter; also not to fail to instruct me what answer I am to make to the Duke’s request, that in case of any movement on the part of the Vitelli you should direct your troops towards the Borgo. Whatever instructions your Lordships may have to give me, I beg you will be pleased to write them, so that I may the more readily obtain an audience and more easily gain time. And should you really wish to conclude anything essential, then the more importance you give yourselves in the negotiation, the better and the more advantageously will you be able to carry it through. Thus it would be very much to the purpose if you were to reinforce me by sending some one here in the capacity of ambassador or otherwise.

I must now give your Lordships some particulars of the situation of things here. So soon as the Duke heard of the loss of San Leo, he caused the duchy of Urbino to be evacuated, and resolved to concentrate all his efforts on maintaining his power in Romagna with what troops he had, until he should have strengthened himself sufficiently to be able to attack those who had molested him. For this purpose he sent at once Messer Ramiro to scour the whole country, and to visit all the fortresses and put them in condition for defence. He wrote to Don Hugo di Cardona, one of his Spanish captains, who was with his troops on the borders of Urbino, to withdraw towards Rimini; and sent Don Michele Coreglia with money to collect some thousand of infantry, with which to join the other troops; and to-day he has distributed money to some eight hundred infantry from the Val di Lamona and sent them forward in the  same direction. At the present the Duke has altogether not over twenty-five hundred paid infantry, and out of all his men-at-arms he has only about one hundred lances left to him, and these are composed mainly of his own gentlemen, who can put about four hundred horses into the field for service. Besides these he has three companies of fifty lances each under three Spanish captains; these, however, have been considerably diminished in number, from having been a long time without pay. The infantry and mounted men which he is now trying to raise, and the auxiliaries upon which he counts, are as follows. He has sent Rafaello dei Pazzi to Milan to form a company of five hundred Gascons out of the adventurers that are in Lombardy; a man of experience has been sent to the Swiss to engage fifteen hundred of them; and five days ago he mustered six thousand infantry into his service from his own states, and which he can have together in two days. As to men-at-arms and light cavalry, he has caused it to be published that he will take into his pay all such as are within his own states, and they are at once to report themselves to him. He has as much artillery, and in good condition, as almost all the rest of Italy together. He despatches frequent letters and special messengers to Rome, to France, and to Ferrara, and is hopeful of receiving from everywhere whatever he asks for. With regard to Rome there can be no doubt; as to France your Lordships know what I have above written on that subject; but what he asks from Ferrara I know not.

As regards your Lordships his Excellency counts upon having you as friends, on account of France and the character of his enemies, or that you will remain neutral. On the other hand, we see all his enemies armed and ready at any moment to light a general conflagration; and yet the people are at heart all for Romagna, but they have been badly treated by the Duke, who has always favored his soldiers more than the inhabitants.

It is feared that the Venetians have a hand in all these movements, and that according as the affair succeeds it may also have the support of Spain and Germany, and of all those who are jealous of the power of France. But if all be true that his Excellency has told me, none of the Vitelli or the Orsini have as yet stirred since the events of Urbino, except Messer Giovanni Bentivogli, who has sent three of them to  Castel San Piero, a few miles from here, and four detachments of infantry under the command of Ramazotto and Del Mancino; but has caused them to return home again, according to what his Excellency told me to-day. From the side of the Venetians we hear nothing, except that they have some troops at Ravenna, who have been there for some time; but this also comes to me from a source that is not authentic.

I have thought that my duty required me to inform your Lordships fully of the condition in which matters are here, and how I regard them; and I have done so with the same fidelity which is at once my duty and my habit. I leave it now to your Lordships to judge of them according to your wisdom, and recommend myself to you.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Imola,

9 October, 1502

P. S. — Messer Alessandro Spannochi told me yesterday evening, just as I was about to despatch Ardingo, that the Duke wanted to send some one this morning to Rome by way of Florence, and desired me to delay the departure of my courier. I could not, therefore, send him off until now at the twenty-second hour, and on the 10th of the month. Having spoken with Messer Alessandro about a general safe-conduct for all our people, he told me to wait a couple of days, and that then he would try and do what would be agreeable to me. I shall not fail to do my best in this matter.

I recommend myself to your Lordships.

Iterum valete!

Niccolo Machiavelli

11 October, 1502

Imola

LETTER III.

Magnificent Signori: —

Yesterday I wrote to your Lordships by the courier Ardingo, giving an account of all that had occurred here; and not wishing to omit informing your Lordships each day of what I hear, I must now tell you as the news of to-day that the Signoria of Venice, so soon as they heard of the revolt of the citadel of San Leo, sent for the Bishop of Tivoli, the Pope’s ambassador, and informed him of the revolt, manifesting great displeasure,  and complaining that the cry of St. Mark had been raised in that citadel; and assuring him that they had no intention of abandoning either the cause of France or that of the Holy Father, nor the protection which they enjoyed at the hands of his Excellency the Duke, and that they had no idea of supporting the Duke of Urbino in any way. And having sent for the latter, they declared their intentions to him in presence of the said Bishop.

This news has greatly encouraged the whole court, satisfying them that the origin of these troubles is not as has been presumed. His Excellency the Duke, by way of manifesting his satisfaction, immediately sent his secretary, Messer Romolino to the Venetian Signoria, to thank them for their good disposition and for their offers. It is reported here, moreover, that a certain Don Hugo, a Spaniard, and captain of the Duke’s men-at-arms, and Don Michele, captain of his infantry, whom the Duke in consequence of these troubles had ordered to fall back in the direction of Rimini, have altogether transgressed their orders and gone to the assistance of the governors of La Pergola and Fossombrone; that they have taken both these places and given them up to pillage, killing nearly all the inhabitants. Thus we see that events are taking a favorable turn for the Duke rather than otherwise.

I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Imola,

11 October, 1502

Niccolo Machiavelli

12 October, 1502

Imola

LETTER IV.

Magnificent Signori: —

Your Lordships will learn from the enclosed the news which I heard yesterday at court. Since then, at about the fifth hour of the night, your courier Baccino arrived with your Lordships’ letters of the 10th, in reply to mine of the 8th. Having thoroughly examined them and informed myself of their contents, I went at the Duke’s audience time, which is about the twenty-second hour, and presented myself before his Excellency, who said to me, “We have good news from all quarters.” And then he related to me the offers made to him by the Venetians,  precisely as I have written to your Lordships, and also what Don Hugo and Don Michele have done in Pergola and Fossombrone, saying gayly, “An evil star reigns this year for those who rebel.” After that he told me that he had news from Perugia through the Pope’s envoy, who on his arrival there found Vitellozzo ill with fever, and the Signor Paolo Orsino covered with scurvy; and that no sooner had he arrived than the Orsini threw themselves into his arms, saying they were soldiers of the Church and did not wish to deviate in the least from the will of the Sovereign Pontiff; and that their leaving Rome was caused solely by their being short of provisions; and that they had implored his Holiness to be pleased to receive them again and afford them quarters as he had formerly done, as they could no longer exist where they were. Of Vitellozzo his Excellency did not tell me anything more; but I have learnt from another source that he had sent word to the Duke that, if he could be assured of his safety, he would come to his Excellency; but if not, then he would go away to a distance, and would thus show him that he was still devoted to him.

After some conversation about the professions of the Orsini, I communicated to his Excellency what your Lordships reply in your letter of the 10th, which I explained to him paragraph by paragraph, as also the reasons that would have caused you to withhold the assistance in case his Excellency should at this time have need of it; and also those considerations that prevented you from being able at the present moment to declare yourselves his friends; making him understand that, as you had written to France on the subject, you would necessarily have to await an answer from there. After that I informed him of the engagement of the Marquis of Mantua, adding, as a suggestion of my own, that I was persuaded his Majesty the king of France had caused your Lordships to do it; for having given a prominent position to one of his friends, for such the Marquis had now become, and wishing at the same time to furnish our republic, which had ever been his most faithful ally, with a reliable armed force, of which both they and their friends might avail themselves, and as it was at the same time the interest of Florence to keep an instrument of such importance from those who were jealous of his Excellency’s power, his Majesty had thought that he could not make your  Lordships do a wiser and more advantageous thing than to engage the Marquis of Mantua, at which his Excellency the Duke would also have reason to rejoice. I did not fail on this point, as well as upon many others, to impress his Excellency with your friendly disposition, as requested in your letter. He answered me most graciously as to the first part, showing that he believed in reality what your Lordships say with regard to the troops and the alliance; nor did he insist much upon these points, or solicit them as he had formerly done. He spoke of the Marquis of Mantua in an honorable manner, saying that he was an honest man and his friend, and that he would show me letters from him in which he had quite recently offered to come to him with troops to aid him in any of his undertakings; and that he was very glad to have him in his neighborhood; to all which I replied in a suitable manner. Afterwards, in fulfilment of your instructions, I brought the conversation back to the subject of the Vitelli and the Orsini, of whom the Duke showed that he had a bad opinion, confessing freely that he could not trust them, but would bide his time, etc., etc.

I suggested that in their despair they might perhaps make incursions into our territory, and, although we had no fear as to any of our towns, yet it would tend to disturb the country. I asked what his Excellency would do if such a thing were to occur before the troops which your Lordship had organized could be on the spot. His Excellency replied, that he could not for the world believe that they would attempt anything of the kind, and gave some reasons for it; but if they should, nevertheless, make any movement, and he should know in what direction they were and what troops they had, he certainly would not fail in his duty as a good friend to do all he could in case you should need help. More than that I could not get from his Excellency in this conversation. On taking my leave I asked him again for a general safe-conduct for all our people, which he again promised most freely, telling me to speak with Messer Alessandro about it. I told him that I had done so, but that Messer Alessandro had put me off for two or three days. To this the Duke replied that this delay was caused by Messer Alessandro’s manifold occupations just at this moment; but that I must speak to him again on the subject. This I have done since, and he has again given me fair  words, but as yet without any result; the reason of which I do not know.

I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Imola,

12 October, 1502

Niccolo Machiavelli

13 October, 1502

Imola

LETTER V.

Magnificent Signori: —

I have deferred until this evening to send Baccino back with the two enclosed letters, so as to be able to give your Lordships fuller information about matters here; and more particularly to satisfy the desire you express to know the Duke’s disposition, and what he designs doing in regard to yourselves. But not having been able to get anything more out of his Excellency than what I have written, and there being at this moment a secretary of the Duke of Ferrara here, recently sent to his Excellency in relation to late events, I took occasion to talk with him. And going from one subject to another, he told me of his own accord that he had a special commission from his master to advise the Duke to form the talked of alliance with your Lordships; adding, as a suggestion of his own, that it seemed as though such an alliance had been too long thought about ever to be really concluded; and that he was resolved the first time that he should talk with the Duke to see whether he could not bring him to some definite conclusion which might afterwards be proposed to you by the Duke of Ferrara, and that he would talk further to me on the subject before his departure. I showed myself neither anxious to avoid nor to accept this offer, but rather thanked the secretary in a general way. He has since then had an interview with the Duke, and, meeting me again, he entered upon that subject, and told me that he had found his Excellency most favorably disposed; and that having finally told him that if he wished to conclude anything definite it would be necessary to specify particulars, and if he desired that the Duke of Ferrara should take some steps in the matter, etc., etc., his Excellency replied, “Not yet, but that he “would let him know in time.” But as this did not satisfy me, I took occasion to have a long conversation to-day with  Messer Agapito, the Duke’s first secretary; and having discussed this matter as between two secretaries who say to each other frankly what each thinks best for the common interest, he spoke to me in the following lengthy argument: —

“See now how well it would be if our two governments could form an alliance together. The friends of your Signoria are equally the best friends of my Duke, and those who are hostile to my Duke are likewise the bitterest enemies of your Signoria. The Venetians are regarded with suspicion by both of us since the Duke has wrested Romagna from their hands. There was no occasion for your Signoria to take the Marquis of Mantua into their pay at this time; they could not be attacked, for the Duke can never more trust the Orsini and the Vitelli, for they have deceived him ever so often. But he thinks that your Signoria have lost a fine opportunity, particularly in giving the position that would have suited the Duke so well to some one else; and he does not know what arguments could now be presented to your Signoria, the Duke being covered with glory, most fortunate, and accustomed to conquer, and his power having increased whilst yours has diminished since the engagement of the Marquis of Mantua. And that it was reasonable that in any arrangement with you the Duke’s rank and honor should be augmented rather than diminished.”

After having spoken of the Duke’s good fortune apart from his successful enterprises, Messer Agapito spoke of recent events, and said that his Excellency could not ask for anything that suited his purpose better; for their result had been, that where the Orsini hoped to stir up all the world against his Excellency, everybody, on the contrary, had declared in his favor; that your Lordships had sent an embassy to him, that the Venetians had written him congratulatory letters, and that his Majesty the king of France had sent him troops; adding, that some account ought to be made of such signal good fortune.

In the course of his conversation, which was by no means a short one, Messer Agapito touched twice upon the subject of the engagement of the Duke as commander of your troops, saying that, unless the past could be undone, there was no chance of doing anything in that way for the future. I will not weary your Lordships by telling you what I replied, but can assure  you that I omitted little that can be said to the purpose. But in the end I could not get anything more out of Messer Agapito, except that the Duke still had his eyes upon such an appointment.

I must not omit mentioning to your Lordships that the secretary from Ferrara, in talking with me as to the causes that could make the Duke so reluctant to move, said that he believed his Excellency had written to the Pope on the subject, and that he desired to proceed in the matter according to the Pope’s wishes. I believe, however, that there may be two other reasons; namely, either he does not want to forego the chance of that appointment now,since his affairs here wear a brighter aspect, and therefore he temporizes, etc., etc.; or hewants to wait, before the matter goes any further, until the next Gonfalonier shall have been installed in his palace; for this new order of things has raised the credit of the city of Florence to a degree that no one could have believed.

I cannot and must not, Magnificent Signori, judge ofthese matters differently, but will continue from time to time to give you simply information as to the condition in which they are; up to the present hour, you are informed of the changes that have occurred. The more favorable the weather, the more difficult will it be to work the soil here; that is to say, the more favorable the condition of the Duke’s affairs, the more difficulty will you have in dealing with him.

Only one thing more I wish to say to your Lordships, and I do so with the utmostrespect; namely, if you make the Marquis of Mantua march promptly, you will at once bring back to reason all those who have strayed from it.

Bene valete!

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Imola,

at the 4th hour of night,

13 October, 1502

Niccolo Machiavelli

14 October, 1502

Imola

LETTER VI.

Magnificent Signori: —

Your Lordships will have learnt from my letters of the 11th, 12th, and 13th, which I sent by the courier Baccino, all that has taken place here until now. I have therefore but little to communicate by the present; still, having the opportunity of sending by Spinelli, who arrived here to-day from Bologna, and will return by post to Florence, I will write to your Lordships what little has occurred here since my last.

In my previous letter I informed your Lordships that the Duke had sent a certain Chevalier Orsino to the other Orsini at their meeting with their adherents at Magione, to ascertain their real intentions, and to see whether there be any way of bringing them back. The said Chevalier returned yesterday, but I have not been able to learn precisely the result of his mission. All I have heard is that Paolo Orsino has offered to come here, and that the Chevalier has returned to obtain the consent of the Duke, and that he was sent back yesterday afternoon with instructions that the said Paolo may come here in all safety, and that accordingly he is expected here within two or three days.

The above-named Spinelli has told me many things which your Lordships canlearn from him direct. I will only mention specially what he says he has heard at Bologna; namely, that at the Magione meeting it was decided that the said Paolo Orsino might come here and make terms with his Excellency the Duke, provided that whatever arrangement might be made, all attempts against Bologna should be excluded therefrom.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Imola,

14 October, 1502

Niccolo Machiavelli

15 October, 1502

Imola

LETTER VII.

Magnificent Signori: —

To-day at about the twentieth hour, whilst I was at court, your Lordships’ courier arrived with your letters of the 13th. As they contain much the same with regard to the negotiations,  etc., as your previous one of the 10th, to which I have replied at length by mine of the 11th, 12th, and 13th, and as their general tenor was of no special importance, I should not have cared to bring them to the notice of his Excellency the Duke but for the information they contain from Borgo about the movement of the artillery and infantry. That seemed to me of importance, and, knowing that it would be greatly appreciated by the Duke, I sought to obtain an audience from him. But his Excellency was extremely occupied in reviewing some detachments of infantry, which defiled in succession before his palace to be mustered into service. I gave a copy of the article of Giovanni Ridolfi to one of the Duke’s secretaries, so that he might present it to him as a matter of importance. So soon as the Duke had read it, he had me called in, and said to me, “What think you of the news?” After having read it, I replied, that if I had to judge of it by the place whence it was written, and by the character of the man who had written it, I could not but affirm that it was true. For the Borgo was only five miles from Castello, and Giovanni is a most prudent man, and as highly esteemed as any one in that city. Whereupon the Duke said: “I can guess how this matter is. You see that Vitellozzo has only started the infantry and the detached lances, but not the men-at-arms, so that he may be able to excuse himself from the charge of treason against me, which would probably be brought against him if he had contravened me with the troops whom I have paid. This movement of the artillery may also be merely a feint on the part of Vitellozzo, for he has certain pieces of artillery belonging to me, which I sent to demand of him only a few days ago. He may therefore make my troops believe that he is sending those pieces back to me under escort, so that they may not be seized by the people of Agobbio; and to the people of Agobbio he may pretend that he is coming to their assistance. But we shall soon see the upshot of all this, and I wait with the utmost impatience for them to declare themselves openly; although I do not believe that the Orsini will do so because of certain negotiations that are going on; and besides, my troops ought to present themselves before Urbino this day.”

After conversing for some time with the Duke upon this subject, I availed of the occasion to let him know how openly  your Lordships had favored Grechetto and Bianchino, and how cheerfully you had given leave of absence to Maglianes; and that although these were but small things, yet that out of small things great ones grow; and that the intentions of men could be judged of even in the smallest things. I then told him in a few words, according to your Lordships’ instructions, of your favorable disposition in all other matters, looking always to what was reasonable and possible, and provided that he showed your Lordships all due and suitable respect. At the same time I thanked him for the favorable answers he had given me about the safe-conducts, and that your Lordships would be pleased to have them soon forthcoming in fact. His Excellency thanked your Lordships upon the first point, saying that he regarded the smallest service rendered him by your Lordships as of the greatest magnitude to him; and closed his remarks with general expressions, but in most obliging and friendly language. As to the safe-conducts, he called Messer Alessandro Spannochi, and said to him, “Arrange yourself here with the secretary, and try to put this safe-conduct into shape.” And thus I left his Excellency after some further conversation, in which he told me particularly of the disposition of the king of France to be agreeable to him, and that the day before Odoardo Baglio had been here to confirm to him orally what the king of France had several times written to him, and that he would soon see the practical evidences of his Majesty’s friendly disposition.

In my letter of the 9th, which I retained here until the 10th, I wrote so fully to your Lordships respecting the forces which the Duke has, and the assistance which he expects, that it seems superfluous to write more. The condition of his affairs is greatly improved since it is understood that the Venetians are resolved not to attack him, and since it is seen that he has the upper hand again in the duchy of Urbino, which he had looked upon as lost. To this must be added the fact, if indeed it be true, that the Orsini have submitted or are about to submit themselves to him. But of this we have not heardanything more, notwithstanding that the Signor Paolo Orsino is about to come here, as I have stated in one of my letters of yesterday.

His Excellency has, moreover, taken the Signor Lodovico della Mirandola into his pay, with sixty men-at-arms and sixty light-horse. Besides this, he has ordered the son of the general  of Milan, who was formerly the general of Savoy, and who had been sent to enlist those fifteen hundred Swiss infantry, to collect one hundred and fifty men-at-arms in Lombardy, of which the Duke is going to give him the command. Thus the men-at-arms which he expects to have together here in the course of a month are as follows. First, those of his own gentlemen and the three companies under the Spanish captains, which I have mentioned in one of my letters, and those which he is collecting in his possessions in Romagna; — all these taken together will make about 500 men-at-arms. Then there is the Signor Lodovico, and the son of the general of Milan, who will bring about 210; and he counts upon having as many light-horse as he has men-at-arms. As to infantry, I estimate that he will find in Sienna and in the duchy of Urbino about 2,500; and he will have just as many more as he has money wherewith to pay them. Thus you see that he is collecting them from all quarters.

As to what your Lordships say in your postscript, that I should temporize and make no definite engagements, and endeavor to find out the Duke’s real intentions, I think I have thus far done the first two, and have tried my best to do the third, of which my letter of the 13th gives ample evidence; and therefore it would be superfluous to repeat it again now. I believe truly that, besides the other reasons which I have mentioned why the Duke remains undecided, there may be another, and that is that he wishes you to be governed in these matters by the king of France, since you show that you are waiting for his consent.

As I have already mentioned above, Odoardo Baglio was here yesterday; I called upon him, but had no opportunity to learn anything from him, which matters little, as he tells me that he has instructions to go to Florence to your Lordships. Having returned to the palace, Messer Alessandro Spannochi told me that he had again spoken to the Duke about the safe-conduct, but that to make it general would rather be a disadvantage for the Duke than otherwise. And when I wanted to reply to this objection, he said, “I shall have occasion to-morrow to be with Messer Agapito, and we will then see what can be done.” I can say nothing more on this subject except that it would be very much to the purpose if some friend of Messer Agapito were to write to him on the subject. We hear  nothing whatever either from Bologna or from the direction of Urbino.

I recommend myself to your Lordships.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Imola,

15 October, 1502

Niccolo Machiavelli

16 October, 1502

LETTER VIII.

Magnificent Signori: —

Your Lordships will see from the enclosed, that since the receipt of yours of the 13th I have had an interview with his Excellency the Duke; also what I have to say respecting the state of things here, which I have deemed proper to communicate to your Lordships in a confidential letter.

Upon receiving the information from Giovanni Ridolfi as to the movement of the artillery and of the troops of Vitellozzo, his Excellency the Duke used, if I remember well, the following words: “Two considerations have prevented your Signoria from sending some troops to the confines of Vitellozzo’s possessions. The one was the desire to await the orders of the king of France, and to know what course to take in regard to the disturbances here; and the other is the small number of troops they have, and the many places they have to guard. And as I could have desired much to gain time, and that your Signoria should show me some favor, I explain these two considerations in the following manner. As to the first, touching the king, you may assure your Signoria that I am more sure than of death itself, that his Majesty would like to have the whole Florentine people come in person to support my interests, and upon this point you will shortly receive a definite reply. As to the other consideration, namely, the having but a small number of troops, you must write to your Signoria, that, by way of preventing any inconvenience arising from the sending of some of their troops from the places where they are, I am ready to go in person to their assistance, and to bear myself the entire burden of the war. In truth, I do not want them to do anything more than send to those places near Castello some fifty or sixty horse and some three hundred to four hundred regular troops,  to have two pieces of artillery taken there, and to levy there one man for each house; to order reviews to be held there, and to make other demonstrations of that kind. And I charge you to urge these things upon your Signoria with all possible energy.”

Such were almost his very words. I did not fail to point out to his Excellency our lack of troops, and the apprehensions which their being sent away would naturally excite. He insisted, nevertheless, that I should write to you anyhow and make the request. I deemed it proper to promise it, but I do so in a separate and confidential letter, so that your Lordships may, if you judge it advisable to comply with the Duke’s request, do it without making it publicly known, and without compromising yourselves. In that case you ought to send some regular troops towards the Borgo and Anghiari, hold reviews, and do what else the Duke asks, either in whole or in part, pretending that you fear an attack from that direction. And, on the other hand, you could raise yourselves still more in the Duke’s estimation by representing the number double what they really are; for the Duke will not be able to get reliable information.

I beg your Lordships will not ascribe these suggestions either to presumption on my part, or to a desire to obtrude my advice; but rather to that natural affection which every man ought to feel for his country. Awaiting your prompt reply to all this, I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

16 October, 1502

Niccolo Machiavelli

17 October, 1502

Imola

LETTER IX.

Magnificent Signori: —

By my last, which I sent yesterday with the courier, your Lordships will have been informed of the state of things here, and of what I had to say in reply to yours of the 13th, to which I expect your answer. By the present I have to inform you that to-day at about the eighteenth hour his Excellency the Duke sent for me, and on my arrival said: “I desire to carry out my  intention of communicating to you whatever I hear concerning the interests of your Signori, or our common interests. To-day I have received this letter from Sienna from an agent of mine whom I have sent there.” And then he read me a passage from that letter, saying, “that the Orsini had marched their troops in the direction of Cagli; not as enemies, but under pretence that the Chevalier Orsino had told them on the part of the Duke that, if they would withdraw with their troops towards the duchy of Urbino, the Duke would look upon them as his friends. Moreover, that the Florentines had sought their alliance, and had offered them honorable conditions.” After that the writer of the letter added, “that the Orsini would really be good friends of his Excellency provided he would give up his attempt upon Bologna, and enter either into the states of Florence or of Venice.” After reading to me that passage from the letter, his Excellency said: “You see that I act in good faith towards you, believing that your Signoria will cheerfully come to be my friends, and will not deceive me. And really they ought to have more confidence in me now than ever; nor shall I for my part fail to do my duty.”

I thanked the Duke first on behalf of your Lordships, for his frankness in communicating to me that letter, and then said to him that, if I had to speak to him according to the instructions given me by your Lordships on leaving Florence, and according to the letters received since, I could not but bear witness to the excellent disposition of your Lordships towards him. And I enlarged upon this subject as far as I thought proper in accordance with your Lordships’ instructions. After that, whilst conversing together about the Orsini, as to their whereabouts with their troops, and as to their intentions, the Duke told me that he had information from another source that they were at Cagli, and that upon their arrival there the people of Cagli wanted to attack the citadel, but that the Orsini would not agree to it. And when the people of Cagli had asked the Orsini whether they intended to injure them, they replied, “No, but that they had not come to defend them either.” And thus they go on temporizing in the matter.

Such was my interview with the Duke, and to judge by what he said, and the general tenor of his remarks, which it would be too long to write, I found him to-day even more desirous  of closing an alliance with your Lordships than he was the last time that I spoke to him.

I must not omit communicating to your Lordships what one of the Duke’s principal officers told me, whose name I will not mention, having been specially requested by him to that effect. Having conversed with him about the affairs of the day, he began to censure the tardiness of both your Lordships and the Duke in coming to an understanding; and whilst upon this point he said to me: “Only two days ago I told the Duke the same thing that I tell you now, that it is high time to finish the matter, which seems to me easy enough, for both the Florentines and his Excellency the Duke are equally well disposed for it. Both one and the other have enemies, and each has to maintain an armed force to defend themselves, and therefore it is the easiest thing in the world to agree upon all points.” To which the Duke had replied: “Why then do these Signori put off so long making me some proposition? Nothing else makes me doubtful of them except the fact that they do not declare or explain themselves. The only reason why I desire that the first proposition should come from them is to give greater stability to whatever may be concluded between us.” It is not worth while to tell you what I said in reply; I merely wanted to give your Lordships this information, so that you may the better understand the Duke’s intentions, or rather be better able to conjecture them.

I have forgotten to write to your Lordships that in my conversation with his Excellency this morning he said to me: “That agent of mine who writes me from Sienna says that your Signori have sent an envoy there to negotiate the conclusion of some sort of truce.” I replied that it was altogether news to me that there were any negotiations pending between your Lordships and the people of Sienna; nor did I know what truce there could be in question, unless it be the one which was made in 1498 for five years, and which would expire in six or eight months; and that they possibly might wish to renew it. He then asked me what the conditions of that truce were, to which I replied, they were simply that the parties should not injure one another, nor give support to any hostile force that might attempt to assail the territory of either; which the Duke seemed to believe.

We have news from the direction of Urbino, that the Duke’s  army which had orders to approach that town have not passed Fossombrone; some say on account of the weather, and others say that it was because a company of Vitellozzo’s infantry had entered into Urbino; or perhaps because of the arrival of the Orsini at Cagli, which I have mentioned above.

There are one thousand infantry here, who are in the Duke’s pay; and I believe this has prevented him from raising more. However, a large sum of money is expected from Rome by way of Florence. The execution of the orders which I have mentioned to you for the French troops, and for the raising of both mounted men and infantry, are urgently pressed forward, and all day messengers are arriving and departing for Lombardy.

The Chevalier Orsino, whom I have mentioned before, returned yesterday evening from Perugia. What news he brings I know not; I conjecture, the same as what the Duke’s agent has written from Sienna, of which I informed you above. I have nothing more to write to your Lordships, unless it be that, if I were asked for my opinion of all these movements, I should answer, with your permission, that so long as the present Pope lives, and so long as the Duke preserves the friendship of the king of France, he will not be abandoned by that good fortune which until now has steadily increased. For those who have given indications of being hostile to him are too late to do him much harm, and will be still more unable to-morrow than they are to-day.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Imola,

17 October, 1502

Niccolo Machiavelli

20 October, 1502

Imola

LETTER X.

Magnificent Signori: —

Yesterday about the twentieth hour I received by the courier Baccino your Lordships’ letter of the 17th, with copies of the letters sent from Perugia. Immediately after their receipt I presented myself before his Excellency the Duke, and after communicating to him what your Lordships write touching the advices you expect from France, and your expressions of good feeling towards him, as also the object of your sending a special  courier to me, I read to him the copies of those letters from Perugia. Having listened to them, his Excellency thanked your Lordships very much for the marks of friendship you give him on every occasion, enlarging upon that point in the most amiable manner, and promising you proof of his gratitude whenever occasion should present itself. After that he said that those six hundred men-at-arms of which his adversaries boasted might on review turn out less in number, and added laughingly: “They do well to write men-at-arms in blank, which means to say none. I do not mean to boast, but I intend the results shall prove what they are, and what we are. The more I know them, the less account I make of them and their troops. And as to this Vitellozzo, to whom they have given so great a reputation, I cannot say that I have ever seen him do a single thing that showed him to be a man of courage. His constant excuse was the French disease. All he is fit for is to devastate a defenceless country, to rob those who dare not face him, and to practise treason. And he has shown this very clearly now in this affair of Pisa, so that no one can any longer doubt it; for he has betrayed me, being in my pay and having accepted my money.” He enlarged very much upon this matter, speaking, however, very calmly and without manifesting any anger. I replied to his Excellency in the way I thought proper, and did not omit in this interview, which did not terminate very speedily, to do my best to confirm him in the opinion that he could not and ought not to trust them any longer; bringing clearly to his attention many instances of the past, when, whilst making show of friendship, they were to the extent of their ability scheming and plotting treason against him. I continue to do my utmost to win his Excellency’s confidence, and to be allowed to talk familiarly with him, in which I am aided by circumstances as well as by the friendly demonstrations which your Lordships have until now made towards him. But up to the present time I have not been able to learn anything more from him.

As his Excellency did not himself broach the subject of the affairs of Urbino, I did not touch upon it lest it might offend him; and besides, I can learn about it in great part by other means.

There is an admirable secrecy observed at this court, and no one speaks of things respecting which silence is to be observed; it is quite possible, therefore, that your Lordships may have  heard more accurately at Florence than I have here, that the Orsini, the Vitelli, and their other confederates, have all declared themselves openly, and no longer dissimulate their intentions. His Excellency had already told me of it, and accordingly I mentioned it in my letter of the 17th. Three days ago they routed after a fashion Don Michele, Don Hugo, and Messer Ramiro, and drove them into Fossombrone. Some say that Don Hugo has been taken, Don Michele wounded, and that Messer Ramiro has retreated to Fano with the greater part of the troops. Others say that they have abandoned Fossombrone entirely, and others again assert that they left there some three hundred infantry. Be that as it may, the details are of little importance; enough to know that the Duke’s forces have retreated, after receiving some hard knocks. Since then we hear of no further encounters.

As to the Duke Guido, we got an inkling here a few days ago that he had left Venice to enter into the duchy of Urbino; and for that reason his Excellency has promptly sent a large force to try and bar him the way; it is not known yet at what place he has arrived. Some say he is at Urbino, others in San Leo, and others again maintain that he has not yet passed the frontier. I can only write you what I learn, and can only learn what I hear. No one stirs from the direction of Bologna, and there seems to be no apprehension from that quarter. The measures taken by his Excellency are being urged from all sides, as I have several times mentioned in my letters; and he has spent since I have been here as much money for couriers and special messengers as any one else would have spent in two years. He does not cease day or night to send off messengers, and yesterday evening he sent off two of his gentlemen, and with them Guglielmo di P. di Buonaccorso, who had been in his service at one time, and who speaks French well, to meet the French lances that are on the way, and which, according to what his Excellency tells me, might at this moment be on this side of Modena.

I hope to be able to send you to-day the general safe-conduct for our people. In speaking yesterday with his Excellency on the subject, he was very angry that it had not yet been sent; and in speaking of the matter he said, “Would it not be proper that I should have some security for my people in your territory?” To which I replied, that he might see from the facts  that there was no need of it; still, if his Excellency desired to have a safe-conduct for those in his service and for his subjects, it would most assuredly not be refused.

I recommend myself to your Lordships.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Imola,

20 October, 1502

Niccolo Machiavelli

20 October, 1502

Imola

LETTER XI.

Magnificent Signori: —

Yesterday, before receiving your Lordships’ letter of the 17th, to which this is a reply, his Excellency the Duke sent for me, and told me that he had letters from France from Monseigneur d’Arles, containing the information that your Lordships’ ambassador had presented himself on your part to his Majesty the king, and had related to him the doings of the Orsini, the meetings held by them, as well as the other movements against his Holiness the Pope; that he had pointed out to his Majesty the consequences that might result therefrom, and had advised him to take the matter in hand himself; and that, in conclusion, he had told him that your Lordships were ready to do whatever you could in support of the Pope and the Duke whenever his Majesty should deem proper. That his Majesty had expressed himself in reply very warmly in favor of the Duke, and extremely pleased at the assurances of the ambassador, saying that the more vigorous the support, the more agreeable would it be to him, and that the Florentine Signoria ought to render such aid by their armed forces and by all other means. When our ambassador replied that your Lordships were short of troops, the king said that he would grant you permission to raise troops in all his states for the benefit of the Church. After having communicated to me this information, his Excellency added: “You must write to your Signoria to send ten squadrons of cavalry to my assistance; and tell them that I am ready to conclude a firm and indissoluble alliance with them, from which they will derive all the advantages that can be hoped for from my support and my fortune.” Adding that, “since his Majesty the king has manifested that disposition, of which your Lordships must  now be fully informed, he would wish that that matter should be carried into effect” about which I wrote you on the 16th, which letter was sent by our courier Giovanni de Domenico, and which I will not repeat here. Moreover, the Duke would wish that your Lordships, under color of some excuse, should give the Orsini and their partisan chiefs to understand, either verbally or by letter as you may deem best, that you are obliged to obey the commands or suggestions of his Majesty the king; and that if his Majesty should require you to give your support to his Holiness the Pope, no matter against whom, you would be obliged to give it. And here the Duke protested to me that your Lordships would thus render him a very great service, and desired me to write you immediately.

After that he touched upon various other subjects, to all of which I replied as I thought my duty demanded, but being of no particular importance, I deem it superfluous to give you an account of them; and will only mention this, that in speaking of Pandolfo Petrucci he said, “This man sends me every day letters or special messengers to assure me of his great friendship for me, but I know him.” He then told me that he had been written to from various places that your Lordships counselled the Bolognese to declare war against him, and that those who had so written him said that you had done so either because you desired his ruin, or for the purpose of making a more advantageous treaty with him. But the Duke said that he did not believe it, from all the evidence he had, and especially from the information he had received from France.

Valete!

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Imola,

20 October, 1502

Niccolo Machiavelli

21 October, 1502

LETTER XII.

Magnificent Signori: —

I wrote to your Lordships yesterday by the courier Baccino, in reply to yours of the 17th. In the beginning of my letter I told you that I expected at last to obtain the safe-conduct; and for that purpose I went to see Messer Agapito, who told me it was ready, but that he wanted from your Lordships a  corresponding safe-conduct for all the subjects of the Duke. He gave me a copy of the one he had prepared, which I send you herewith, so that if you think fit you may have a similar one prepared and send it to me; and I will then immediately get the one from here, and will try to effect the exchange without any expense, provided your Lordships approve of this arrangement.

Nothing new has occurred here since my last, unless it be that Messer Antonio da Venafro, one of Pandolfo Petrucci’s men, arrived here yesterday evening, being sent by the Orsini; he left again to-day, but I do not know the object of his mission. I shall make every effort, however, to find it out, and will then communicate it to your Lordships, to whom I recommend myself.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

21 October, 1502

Copy of the Safe-conduct.

Cesare Borgia of France, by the grace of God Duke of Romagna and of Valentino, Prince of Adria and Venafro, Lord of Piombino, etc., etc., Gonfalonier and Captain-General of the Holy Church of Rome: —

To all the captains, condottieri, chiefs of squadrons, constables, soldiers, and others in our pay, composing our army; and to the respected President and Auditors of our Council, lieutenants, commissaries, podestas, officers ordinary and special, directly or indirectly subject to our authority, to whom these presents may come: — Be it known and made manifest that we, being desirous that the illustrious Signoria, community, and people of Florence experience, for the convenience of their citizens and subjects, the proofs and demonstrations of our good will, in conformity with the close and fraternal affection which we bear to the said Signoria, — therefore we have ordered that the aforesaid citizens and subjects may with entire liberty and security contract and maintain friendly intercourse with all our subjects, and may travel unmolested in person and with their goods throughout our states and dominions.

And we command and enjoin all the aforementioned officers and persons, generally and individually, not to permit any impediment, real or personal, to any citizen or subject of the  aforementioned republic anywhere, and most particularly in the cities, towns, castles, or other places in our dominion of Romagna, or other states; but to let them pass freely with their merchandise or goods of any kind belonging to them, for the purpose of trade or traffic, giving them safe passage, friendly reception, and good treatment everywhere; and to afford them friendly assistance, and whatever protection they may call for.

And let no one act contrary to these presents, on pain of incurring the full weight of our resentment and indignation.

Given at Imola, on the 19th of October, 1502, the second year of our Duchy of Romagna.

Niccolo Machiavelli

23 October, 1502

Imola

LETTER XIII.

Magnificent Signori: —

To-day, at about the twenty-fourth hour, I received through Francesco del Magno three letters from your Lordships, one of the 19th and two of the 21st; and after having read and examined them carefully, I went to his Excellency the Duke to communicate to him your reply to his demands respecting which I wrote in my letter of the 16th. I told him of the arrival at Florence of Messer Guasparre by order of the Pope, and of his demands. To the first two, respecting the hundred lances and the Marquis of Mantua, he replied by declaring the one impossible, and that he had nothing to do with the Marquis, not wishing to begin his engagement before the month of March. As to the third, touching the alliance, etc., I related to him the determination you had come to, promptly to send an ambassador to the Pope, so as to learn his wishes more fully, and to treat of all matters of common interest. I did not in any way make known to the Duke your particular instructions, as suggested to me by you at the end of your last letter; and did not fail to try earnestly to convince him of your desire to be of service to him, and how far you were from having an understanding with any of his adversaries. And as it seemed to me to the purpose, I communicated to him that portion of your letter which refers to that matter.

His Excellency listened to me most graciously, as he always does; and then, having gone to a table upon which lay some letters, he said to me: “Before otherwise replying to you, I wish to show you a letter which his Majesty King Louis XII. has written to the Venetians, and of which Monseigneur d’Arles has sent me a copy in French. And for the better understanding of it, you must know that these Venetians, under pretext of friendship, have sent word to the king by their envoys, that their love for his Majesty made them apprehensive lest he should meet with some damage to his renown in Italy; that as his most devoted friends they felt themselves obliged to apprise him of the current rumors, and of the harm resulting to him from the protection which he had accorded and continued to accord to the Pope and the Duke of Valentinois, who without provocation usurped the possessions of others, wasted the provinces by war, and committed endless damage and disorders, discreditable to his Majesty who permitted it. That the wrongs of the past were as nothing compared to those lately done at Bologna, which his Majesty had undertaken to protect. The king, after hearing these things, replied to them by letter, so that the Venetians might keep it before their eyes, and thus more clearly understand his intentions.” After that the Duke read me that letter at length, which in effect justified all these calumnies, and concluded by an expression of his determination to reduce all the States of the Church to obedience, and that, if the Venetians were to oppose the attempts of the Pope, his Majesty would treat them as enemies.

Having finished reading that letter, his Excellency added: “I have told you several times, and repeat it to you again now, that I shall not lack support. The French lances will be here shortly; and thus the Pope will not permit me to want for money, nor the king of France to want for troops. Nor will I boast either by act or word, but I think my enemies are likely to have occasion to regret their treachery to me.” And then, turning the conversation upon the Orsini, he said: “That they had lately been guilty of the greatest treachery against him that had ever been committed. You know,” he said, “that I told you within the last few days that they were about to enter the duchy of Urbino in my stead, and according to my orders, which had been communicated to them by  the Chevalier Orsino. Believing this, as they had raised the siege of the castle of Cagli, as I have told you, I wrote to Don Hugo di Cardona to march with his troops to Urbino, as the Orsini were coming to my support from the other side. He did so; but had it not been that he stopped on his way to demolish two small castles, my troops would have been all cut to pieces. For when they were about to advance, they were assailed by a great number of the people of the country, and were on the point of being surrounded by the Orsini, who ought to have been my friends. They have now made a descent into the territory of Fano, where, however, they take only what is necessary for their subsistence, pretending all the while to be my friends. Giampaolo Baglioni, another friend of the same sort, wanted to enter Fano, but did not succeed. You see now how they conduct themselves; they keep up friendly negotiations with me, and write me fine letters. To-day Signor Pagolo is to come here to see me, and to-morrow the Cardinal Orsino is to come, and thus they mock me in their fashion; but I temporize, listen to all I hear, and bide my time. By way of answer to what you told me on behalf of your Signoria, I readily accept their excuses, knowing that they are founded in truth. Nor could I be better satisfied with them than what I am, and with what they write me of having gone purposely to Sienna; and therefore I wish you to offer them, on my part, all the service I have it in my power to render them. I did not upon your arrival open myself so entirely to you, because my states were at that time in a very critical condition. Urbino had rebelled, and I knew not whom to rely upon. I found everything in disorder in these new states, and did not want your Signoria to believe that great fears had made me prodigal of promises. But now that my fears are less, I promise you more, and if necessary shall add thereto my deeds, when my apprehensions shall have been entirely dissipated.”

Having made a suitable reply to his Excellency’s remarks, and having returned to the subject of the Orsini and the negotiations, I thought it proper to say to him as coming from myself: “Your Excellency sees how frankly my noble Signoria is in accord with you; for at the very height of your peril they have sent me to assure you of their friendly disposition and their devotion. Regardless of reproaches for increasing  your reputation and lowering that of your enemies, they have broken off all negotiations with them, and have opened to your Excellency a free passage through their territories, which acts merit recognition and should not be forgotten. I beg, therefore, to remind and urge upon your Excellency, that, if you should come to treat with the Orsini or any of the others, you will remember our devotion to you, and will therefore not conclude any arrangement contrary to the constant professions of friendship on the part of your Excellency for my Signoria.”

To this the Duke answered that he entertained no such thought, adding: “You know that Antonio da Venafro has been to see me in the name of the Orsini, and, amongst much other news which he has given me, he brought forward a proposition to change the government of Florence. I replied, that the Florentine government was the friend of the king of France, to whom I am devoted, and that it had never offended me; and what was still more, I was on the point of forming an alliance with it. To this Antonio replied by urging me on no account to conclude such an alliance, but to let him return and effect a good arrangement between us. Whereupon I said to him, with the view of not giving him any encouragement in that direction: ‘We have gone so far that I cannot now go back; nevertheless, I repeat to you that I am willing to listen to you and to continue negotiations with you, but will never conclude any arrangement adverse to the interests of Florence, unless that republic should give me special occasion for so doing.’ And in case Messer Antonio should return, rest assured,” continued the Duke to me, “that I will tell you all he may say to me concerning your affairs; this I shall do anyhow.” And thus terminated this conversation with the Duke on this and many other subjects, which it is not worth while to report; whereupon I took my leave of his Excellency.

Your Lordships are informed now of the language held by the Duke, of which I have not written the half; and you will now weigh the matter with your usual sagacity, having due regard to the individual who uttered it. As to the situation of things here I would observe that ever since my being here the government of the Duke has been maintained exclusively by his good fortune, which is founded upon the confident opinion that the king of France will furnish him troops, and that the  Pope will supply him with money. Another matter which has operated no less in his favor is the tardiness of his enemies in pressing him; and in my judgment they are no longer able to do him any harm, for he has provided all the important places with garrisons, and the fortresses with ample means of defence. These precautions have so cooled the spirits of his enemies that the Duke can now securely await the arrival of fresh forces. As all these places are commanded by citadels within, they know that, if they were to commit any folly, the Duke on his arrival would let the French troops upon them; and thus the mere apprehension has kept them quiet, if not all, at least the greater part of them.

The city of Pesaro being most suspected by the Duke, he has sent Don Michele Coraglia there with such troops as were left to him; and feeling more sure of Fano, he has left that city to the care of its own inhabitants. But as Rimini has and continues to cause him anxiety, he has thrown a strong garrison into that city. Of Cesena, Faenza, and Furli he has no apprehensions, the inhabitants of the latter city being hostile to the Lady Catharine Sforza, and the other two having no lords. The Duke himself is here at Imola, and can repress any movement on the part of the Bolognese. Having organized things in this wise, he only awaits the arrival of the French to take the field; and according to the report of Rafaello de’ Pazzi they must anyhow be by this time in the duchy of Ferrara. He also reports having left eight hundred Gascons at . . . . . . some thirty miles from here. The six hundred Ferrarese infantry which the Duke had ordered to be raised there have just arrived here. To-day he has expedited the Chancellor of the Signor of Mirandola with money and instructions to have him raise troops; and this captain promises to be here with his troops within ten days. On the other hand, the enemy have partly surrounded Fano, and it is reported to-day that they have opened the siege in regular form. Moreover the Bolognese are in force at Castel San Piero, and for two days have scoured and wasted the country, and are reported this evening to be in the neighborhood of Doccia, three miles from here.

Your Lordships will judge of these matters as may seem fit in your wisdom. As you have sent an ambassador to Rome, my longer stay here will be superfluous. I beg therefore that your Lordships will consent to my recall; for my private interests  at home are going to ruin, and I have expended all the money you have given me, as is well known to those who serve me here.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Imola,

23 October, 1502

P. S. — To day is the 24th, and it is announced that the Signor Paolo Orsino will be at Cesena to-night, and that he will be here to-morrow to confer with the Duke.

Niccolo Machiavelli

27 October, 1502

Imola

LETTER XIV.

Magnificent Signori: —

By mine of the 23d, which I retained until the 24th, I have replied to yours of the 21st. Yesterday, the 25th, Signor Paolo Orsino arrived here and presented himself to the Duke, dressed like a courier, and stated that the Cardinal Borgia had placed himself as a hostage for his security in the hands of the Orsini. The coming of Signor Paolo is in great part due to that gentleman, at whose request he has come here to excuse and justify what has occurred, and to learn more nearly the intentions of his Excellency; and to communicate them to the others. He has to-day despatched a courier to them in the neighborhood of Fano to learn their final resolution. I have not been able to learn any particulars of the interview between Signor Paolo and the Duke, nor do I believe that I shall be able to obtain any, as that gentleman is very reticent, and talks with but few persons. At one time an arrangement was under consideration, and Messer Giovanni Bentivogli has sent several messengers to the Bishop of Euna; but now, since the arrival of Messer Paolo, he often receives a chancellor sent by Messer Annibale Bentivogli, who is at Castel San Piero. All the booty taken by the Bolognese three days ago is being restored. The Orsini have not laid siege to Fano, as had been reported, nor are the Bentivogli before Doccia, which I wrote you yesterday had been currently reported here. And thus nobody stirs; and we now see that the negotiations for an arrangement are favorable to the Duke, and that he entertains them willingly; but I will not pretend to judge what his real intentions are.

To-day is the 27th, and yesterday evening at the fourth hour I received your Lordships’ letter of the 25th. So soon as his Excellency the Duke had arisen this morning I went to see him, and as it seemed to me proper to communicate your despatch to him, I read him the greater part of it. He thanked your Lordships according to his wont for your firm disposition, and for the communication made to him through the mission of Messer Gino di Rossi. He assured me that he could not but believe you, as your words and your letters agreed so entirely. Then, referring to the arrival of Signor Paolo and the proposed treaty, he said: “These men merely want that I should secure them, and it only remains to find the way of doing it, which mustbe according to fixed stipulations, for which they look to the Cardinal Orsino.” And without giving me a chance to say a word, he added: “It is enough for you to know in general that I shall never conclude anything contrary to the interests of your Signoria; I will not permit them to be wronged to the extent of a single hair.” He seemed pleased that an envoy had been sent to Rome, and yet he did not refer to that matter, but passed it over. I did not fail to recommend to him Salvestro di Buosi in the terms suggested to me by your Lordships. His Excellency replied: “Your Signoria desires that I should set Salvestro at liberty, he being their friend. To which I reply, that all my subjects are their friends and servants; and your Signoria should rather interest itself for the great number of my subjects, who would suffer by the liberation of Salvestro, than for him alone. Suffice it for the present that no harm shall come to him, and so soon as I can set him free without irritating my people, I will comply most cheerfully with the request of your Signoria.”

Your Lordships desire me to give them a fresh account of the condition of things as I find them here, having already done so in my last, which I presume was received by you on the 24th; I therefore do not repeat it. Matters are very much as when I wrote you, excepting that the booty taken by the Bolognese is being restored, and neither Fano nor Doccia is besieged, as had been reported. It is true, we have the news to-day that the Vittelleschi have taken the castle of Fossombrone, which held to the Duke. Paolo Orsino expressed his dissatisfaction at it, and spoke very severely of those who  caused it to be done. As to the terms of any arrangement that may be concluded between them, they are not sufficiently known; but one may augur favorably regarding it. If we examine the characters of both the one and the other party, we shall find in the Duke a daring and fortunate man, full of hope, favored by a Pope and a king, and who finds himself assailed by the others, not only in a state that he wishes to acquire, but also in one that he has already acquired. The other party will be seen to fear for their own states, and to have been afraid of the Duke before they provoked him. Having done so now, their fears are increased, and it is impossible to see how the latter can pardon the offence, or how the former can dismiss their apprehensions; and consequently how either the one can yield in his attempt against Bologna, or the others in theirs upon the duchy of Urbino. It is argued that an amicable arrangement between them would be possible only if they could unite their joint forces against some third party, in which case neither the Duke nor the confederates need reduce their forces, and both would rather gain in renown and in real advantages.

However, if such an arrangement could be brought about, there would be no other power for them to turn against except Florence or Venice. An attack upon Florence is judged to be the easier of the two, so far as Florence itself is concerned, but more difficult on account of the king of France; whilst an attempt upon Venice would be easier so far as the king of France is concerned, but more difficult as regards Venice itself. The latter would be the most agreeable to the Duke, and the former more acceptable to the confederates. Still it is not believed that either one or the other will be undertaken, although spoken of as a possible thing. And thus I can find no one who can definitely suggest a way for an agreement between the two. But such as nevertheless form some definite idea to themselves on the subject believe that the Duke will succeed in causing a division amongst the confederates, and having thus broken up their alliance he will have nothing more to fear from them, and may then pursue his own enterprises. I am rather disposed to believe this from some mutterings that have fallen from the lips of his ministers; and moreover I have evidence that the Bentivogli are quite uneasy on account of the coming here of Paolo Orsino. The league,  however, is so recent, that it is difficult to believe in its being broken up.

Your Lordships, having now been apprised of the various reports current here, will, with your greater wisdom and experience, form a better judgment of the state of things here, respecting which I have thought it my duty to write all I have heard.

A considerable part of the Gascons have arrived at Castello in the Bolognese territory, and the quartermasters of the French troops are expected here from day to day.

I entreat your Lordships again to accord me my recall, for the public weal requires no further temporizing; and if anything definite is to be concluded, then it will be necessary to send some one of greater authority. My own affairs at home are falling into the greatest disorder, and moreover I cannot remain here any longer without money, which it is necessary to spend here.

I recommend myself to your Lordships.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Imola,

27 October, 1502

Niccolo Machiavelli

29 October, 1502

Imola

LETTER XV.

Magnificent Signori: —

In my last of the 27th, I communicated to you what I had learned of the state of things here. Sincethen Signor Paolo Orsino has been to Bologna, whence he returned this evening. It is openly said that a treaty has been concluded between the confederates and the Duke Valentino, and that they are only waiting for the consent of the Cardinal Orsino before ratifying it.

I have not been able to learn anything satisfactory as to the particular conditions of that treaty; but it is said that all the old compacts that existed between the Duke and Messer Giovanni and the Vitelli and the Orsini are renewed by this treaty; that the Duke is to be reinstated in the duchy of Urbino, and that the Duke of Ferrara becomes surety for both parties. Other things are talked about, but I do not mention them, as they seem less credible than the above. Whether  such a treaty has really been concluded, and whether its conditions are such as I have mentioned above, I dare not affirm. But besides all these negotiations about the treaty, I see the Duke expending large sums in warlike preparations; it was only yesterday that he despatched a Messer Arcolano into Lombardy with several thousand ducats, to hasten the departure of the remainder of the French troops that are expected, and the other mounted men, whom he caused to be collected under the command of the son of the General of Milan, which I mentioned in one of my letters a few days ago. I hear, moreover, the Duke’s principal officers speak in secret very ill of the Orsini, and call them traitors; and in conversing this morning with Messer Agapito about this treaty, he laughed at it, saying that it was a mere trick to gain time. The Duke’s own remarks have always made me conclude that he was anxious thus to temporize, until he should have completed all his preparations. Nor can I believe that the others should not be aware of this, so that I am really perplexed; and being unable to learn anything from his ministers, I would ere this have addressed myself to the Duke himself, but have not had an opportunity since then. To-morrow, however, unless I should receive letters from you, I shall endeavor to speak to him, and see how he expresses himself with regard to this treaty. For when I think whether they may not have concluded some arrangement prejudicial to our republic, I become uneasy at the secrecy in which this matter is involved; for the Duke’s secretaries have become almost rude to me, rather than otherwise, and even the Duke of Ferrara’s envoy, who used to take pleasure in conversing with me actually avoids me now. This evening, after supper, Messer Alessandro Spannochi made use of certain expressions that did not please me, hinting that your Lordships had had the opportunity of treating with his Excellency the Duke, but that the chance was now lost. I have thought proper to mention all these indications and goings on to your Lordships, as they came under my observation, so that you may yourselves judge of their meaning, and take such measures as may prevent any one from successfully plotting against you.

It is now the sixth hour of the night, and some one has just come in to tell me that the Duke had at that moment received the news of the revolt of Camerino. We shall know better to-morrow  morning whether this be true, and if so, it may render the conclusion of the treaty more difficult, unless the Duke of his own accord makes greater concessions to the confederates, for fear of worse.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Imola,

29 October, 1502

P. S. — To-day is the 30th, and Zerino has just arrived with your letters of the 28th, respecting which I shall speak with the Duke, and will then write you fully this evening concerning matters here. I send this letter by Branchino, who is just about to leave, it being now the twentieth hour; he goes to Florence to buy horses, etc., etc. Respecting affairs at Camerino, which I mentioned above, nothing is openly said at court this morning, but the individual who told me of it yesterday evening confirms the news, and says he has seen letters on the subject directed to Signor Paolo Orsino; but that the Duke has requested him not to make the information public. I mention this just as I haveheard it, and recommend myself again to your Lordships.

Memorandum of the Troops of the Duke Valentino.

Infantry.

Don Michele

600

Dionigi di Naldo

500

Comandatore

500

Maestro di Sala

500

Don Romolino

400

Lo Sgallo da Sienna

300

Grechetto

200

Salzato, the Spaniard

300

Don Limolo

200

Giambattista Martino

400

Marc Autonio di Fano

500

Giannetto di Siviglia

150

Mangiares

200

Gascons and Germans

600

These Gascons and Germans are here; all the others are scattered throughout the neighboring places, as far as Fano, and the greater part of them have already consumed their pay for four or six days. The Swiss that are expected are said to number three thousand lances.

Men-at-arms.

Don Hugo, the Spaniard

50

Monsignore d’Allegri, a Spaniard

50

Don Giovanni di Cardona

50

These three companies had already been reduced in numbers before the rout of Fossombrone, and, having since then received another check, must be still less in number.

Gathered from the Duke’s own states

50

Conte Lodovico della Mirandola is said to have 60, but I have heard since that he has only about

40

The latter is with his company at present about six miles from here. The son of the General of Milan is reported to have orders to raise one hundred men-at-arms; he is still in Lombardy, and I know positively that twelve days ago a large sum of money was sent to him. Messer Galeazzo Pallavicini is said to have orders to raise fifty men-at-arms; he too is still in Lombardy.

One hundred men-at-arms, composed of the Duke’s household, are here. Fifty French lances are in the territory of Faenza. Others are said to be on the way, and are expected here from day to day.

Cavalry.

Don Michele

100

Maestro Francesco da Luna

50

Messer Rinieri della Sassetta and Gio. Paolo da Toppa, crossbowmen

100

Conte Lodovico della Mirandola

40

Besides the other men-at-arms there are: —

Guido Guaini

40

Detached lances

40

Giovanni da Sassatello

40

Messer Baldassara da Sienna has been sent to Florence to enlist others.

Deserters from the Bentivogli, crossbowmen

40

The Fracassa is here, having been taken into the Duke’s pay, as also his men-at-arms.

Niccolo Machiavelli

October 30, 1502

LETTER XVI.

Magnificent Signori: —

In my preceding letter I wrote you all that I had been able to learn up to that morning of the state of things here. Since then I have been obliged to wait until the twenty-fourth hour before I could have an audience of the Duke, which has never happened to me before, even if his Excellency was prevented by some good reason. Having presented myself before him, I told him, in accordance with your Lordships’ instructions, of your continued friendly disposition towards him, and that you were awaiting the return of the envoys sent to Rome, etc., etc. I then spoke of the treaty reported to have been concluded, and his Excellency told me that the terms had been fully agreed upon. When I asked him the particulars, he replied: “In the first instance, the Pope generously grants them a free pardon. Next, I renew to the Orsini and the Vitelli their military engagements, but neither his Holiness nor myself give them any security. On the contrary, they are to place their children and nephews or others as hostages in my hands, according to the choice of the Pope. They further obligate themselves to aid me in the recovery of the duchy of Urbino, and of any other state that has revolted, or that may hereafter revolt.”

To my question whether there was anything in the treaty touching Florence, he replied, “No.” And then he said in relation to the affairs of Bologna, that “these would be left to the arbitration of himself and the Cardinal Orsino and Pandolfo Petrucci.” He reiterated to me that there was no mention of Florence in the treaty, and promised to give me a copy of it; which I shall endeavor to obtain anyhow by to-morrow, provided he keeps his word. To the assurances of friendship and good will on your part, with which your Lordships have charged me, his Excellency replied in few but kindly words, and passed it over lightly.

Before seeing the Duke I had a conversation with an individual who habitually professes an affectionate regard for your Lordships, and who is in a position to be well informed. As I pressed him upon every point, he gave me the same statement that the Duke had done. Another person, who is also to a considerable extent in the Duke’s secrets, confirmed these statements.  And without my having manifested any doubt upon the subject, all have attested to me that the Duke had always taken the part of your Lordships whenever there was a question relating to our republic. Your Lordships will now in your wisdom judge of the offences and of the agreement, respecting which I could learn no more. I shall do my utmost promptly to send you the articles of the agreement, if I obtain the promised copy. Your Lordships will understand that, if there be anything in the treaty adverse to you, I could not be informed of it, as it is not reasonable to suppose that it would come to light so quickly; your own good judgment must determine whether there be any such thing or not.

This evening the quartermasters of the French lances arrived, and they will be here themselves by to-morrow. The Duke does not cease to press the starting of all the other forces which he expects from Lombardy; namely, the Signor della Mirandola, and the son or nephew of the Milanese General, who have been joined by the Signor Fracassa and one of the Pallavicini whom he has enlisted in his pay; and it is said here that the Duke has sent them money so as to enable them to arm and mount every one of their men. Large sums of money have been received here by way of Venice, the greater part of which has been sent into Lombardy. Moreover, all the malcontents of Perugia, Castello, and Sienna are here, together with one of the Savelli. Yesterday one of them told me that they had asked to be allowed to depart when they heard of the treaty, but that the Duke had refused to release them, and will not permit any of their leaders to leave the place; but Signor Paolo Orsino left this evening, and has gone in the direction of Urbino.

Apart from the negotiations with the whole body of the confederates, Messer Giovanni Bentivogli has carried on one in particular with the Duke through the intervention of Tommaso Spinelli, who has repeatedly gone to and fro between them. According to what the latter has told me, Messer Giovanni would be willing to abandon the Orsini entirely, should opportunity present itself, if he could be assured by the Duke of his safety; but he wants also the guaranty of his Majesty the king of France. Amongst other points of the negotiations it is said that the Protonotario Bentivogli would readily leave the Church, and marry a sister of the Cardinal Borgia. For the  purpose of facilitating these negotiations the said Spinelli came here eight days ago to obtain a safe-conduct for the Protonotario Bentivogli; but as it had expired, he returned here yesterday morning for another, with which he departed this evening. If these things are really so, we may judge of the good faith between them, and of their former differences, and their subsequent agreement.

I have no further news at present, unless it be the confirmation of the revolt of Camerino, of which I have already advised your Lordships by your own courier, who will anyhow be at Florence to-morrow. I understand that you complain that my letters are not frequent enough, which I regret, and the more as I do not think I can do better, having written you on the 7th, 9th, 11th, 12th, 13th, 14th, 15th, 16th, 17th, 20th, 23d, 27th, and the present, which is of the 29th and 30th.

I recommend myself to your Lordships.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

October 30, 1502

P. S. — I have forgotten to tell your Lordships that, whilst conversing with Messer Alessandro, I sought to obtain from him the words he had made use of, and which I mentioned in my last. He replied that he did not intend to say anything more than that you had missed the opportunity of settling matters in your own way with his Excellency the Duke; because, the Orsini having by this treaty become his friends again, he is now obliged to have some regard to them, which before then he would not have had to do; and that further delay only made matters worse. More than this I was not able to obtain from him. I beg your Lordships most respectfully to have some consideration for the party who made these communications to me, so that it may not come to their ears that I have written them to you.

Iterum valete!

Niccolo Machiavelli

November 1, 1502

Imola

LETTER XVII.

Magnificent Signori: —

By my last of the 29th and 30th, which I sent by Zerino, your courier, you will have learned what I had to say in reply to yours of the 28th, and what I have learned from the Duke as well as from others respecting the movements of Paolo Orsino, and of the terms of the agreement concluded between his Excellency the Duke and the confederates. And as the Duke had promised to have me furnished with a copy of the same, I went to-day to ask his secretary, Messer Agapito, for it, who finally said to me: “I will tell you the truth, this treaty has not yet been definitely settled. A draft of it has been prepared, which has been approved by the Duke and Signor Paolo, who has taken it away with him to submit it to the confederates; and if they approve of it also, then he is authorized by the Duke to ratify it on his behalf. But no sooner had Signor Paolo gone than the Duke, on more carefully examining the articles of agreement, thought that a clause was wanting in it referring to the crown and honor of France. An additional article to that effect was immediately drawn up, and the Duke sent me in all haste with it after Signor Paolo, with instructions to explain to him that without that additional article nothing would be concluded. When I had overtaken Signor Paolo, he refused to accept it, but after a while said that he would submit it to the confederates, but did not believe that they would agree to it. In consequence of this the Duke does not wish any copies of the treaty to be given, and neither the Chancellor of Ferrara nor any one else has received one.” Messer Agapito afterwards added: “This supplementary clause will either be accepted or rejected; if it is accepted, a window will be opened for the Duke to get out of the obligations of this treaty at his pleasure. If it be rejected, then it will open the door wide for him. But even the children must laugh at such a treaty, which is so injurious and dangerous for the Duke, and wholly the result of violence.” Messer Agapito spoke with much warmth upon the matter. All this has been confided to me in secret. I have nevertheless deemed it my duty to communicate it to your Lordships; and putting this together with what  I wrote yesterday, you will in your wisdom draw a suitable conclusion from it. I will only add that Messer Agapito is a Colonnese, and much devoted to that party.

Your Lordships point out to me in your postscript to your letter of the 28th, that the succor which the Duke expects is small in numbers, and slow in coming; and therefore you apprehend that his Excellency, finding himself weak and closely pressed by his enemies, may conclude some arrangement with them disadvantageous to himself and prejudicial to his neighbors. I believe your Lordships have reliable advices from Milan, and from France, respecting the men of the other side; nevertheless I will tell you what I hear here, so that your Lordships may be able the better to weigh and judge the matter. Yesterday evening there returned here Guglielmo di Buonaccorso, a citizen of Florence, whom I have mentioned to you as having gone to accompany the French lances that have come into Italy, and all of which the Duke has ordered into the territory of Faenza. Guglielmo tells me that these lances consist of five companies, namely those of Montison, Miolens, Foix, Dunois, and the Marquis of Saluces; and that when he saw them all together, only seven were missing out of the whole complement. But he believes that by this time these will have been more than made up by the accession of volunteers; so, as I have already said, these lances are here in reality. Yesterday, also, there returned here a Spaniard named Piero Guardarbo, who had been sent by the Duke into France. Guglielmo told me that he had a long conversation with this Piero on the road, who had told him that it had been arranged with his Majesty the king of France that he is to send three additional companies; and that when he left Milan, one under command of Monseigneur de Ligny had already started, but that Monseigneur de Chaumont had not yet decided as to the other two that are to come.

In one of my letters of the 9th to your Lordships, you will remember my having mentioned that amongst other preparations which the Duke had made, in consequence of the defection of the Orsini, he had sent the son of the General of Milan into Lombardy, with orders to raise fifteen hundred Swiss, and, moreover, to re-enlist fifty or one hundred mounted men, the pick of those that had already been in the service of the Duke of Milan, and to bring them here under his own command.  And it is said that the expense of raising them will be borne by the General of Milan himself, in the hope of thereby having one of his sons made a cardinal. This same Guglielmo also told me that he had heard that the Swiss were already at Pavia, and that the mounted men were merely waiting orders to march. It is said, moreover, that the son of Monseigneur d’Albret has come again into Italy with one hundred lances, in support of his brother-in-law; which, if true, although rather late, yet is of some importance. This Guglielmo, from whom I have this information, seems to me, from what I have seen of him, a sensible and reliable man. As regards the Italian troops, the engagement of the Conte della Mirandola is true, and he received his pay some days ago. It is also said that he has received money to furnish men-at-arms to Fracassa and to one of the Pallavicini, a gentleman in his service; in fact, he enlists all the scattered men that present themselves. Two days ago there came a certain Piero Balzano, a deserter from Giovanni Bentivogli, with forty mounted crossbowmen, and money was paid to him immediately on his arrival.

I cannot at this moment give your Lordships any more information, for since the revolt of Camerino we have no news either from there or from the neighborhood of Bologna. The Protonotario Bentivogli has not come back either, as was expected, and as I had written to your Lordships.

Two words will explain the state of things here: on the one hand they talk of a treaty of amity, and on the other hand they make preparations for war. Your Lordships, having information from all parts, will be able to form a better judgment as to what the Duke will or can do, and whether he will have to yield to the confederates or not, than he who sees only the one side. I have kept your Lordships fully advised up to the 31st. To-day is the 1st of November, and being very desirous of sending you the articles of agreement, and to verify the accounts given me by that friend of mine, I have since writing to you conferred with another individual who is also in the Duke’s secrets; and what he tells me fully confirms what my friend had reported to me. But I have not been able to learn anything from him respecting the supplementary clause, except that it relates to the honor of France; but this person assured me again that no reference is made in it to Florence. It is true, he told me, that there is one clause in  the agreement that the Orsini and Vitellozzo were not obliged to serve the Duke simultaneously, but only one at a time. “You see,” said he, laughing, “what sort of an agreement this is.” I shall not leave this matter without trying to learn something more on the subject; and so as not to keep your Lordships in suspense, I send this by a courier named Giovanni Antonio da Milano, who has promised me to deliver it by to-morrow; and your Lordships will please have him paid the sum of one florin gold.

P. S. — At the moment of closing this letter, Tommaso Spinelli arrives and tells me that he left the Protonotario Bentivogli at Castel San Piero, and that he will be here to-morrow.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Imola,

November 1, 1502

Niccolo Machiavelli

3 November, 1502

Imola

LETTER XVIII.

Magnificent Signori: —

In my last letters of the 30th ultimo and the 1st instant, I informed you of what I had been able to learn respecting the terms of the treaty, and of the reasons why I had not been able to obtain a copy of it. To-day I had a long conversation with one of the Duke’s first secretaries, who confirmed all I had written you. “The return of the Chevalier Orsino is expected,” said he to me, “and according to his report they will either give the treaty to the public or not.” And he has promised me that no one shall have a copy of it without my having one also. In this matter I am obliged to depend upon others; and yet I have heard nothing that makes me suspect that it contains anything contrary to the interests of your Lordships; I have only heard you blamed for having missed the opportunity of concluding an alliance with the Duke. I have written you at length, and without reserve, all I have learned in relation to matters here; and as nothing new has occurred, I have nothing to write except to repeat that, if words and negotiations indicate an agreement, the orders given and the preparations are manifest indications of war. In accordance  with what I have already written, five companies of French lances were quartered four days ago in the territory of Faenza, and their captains came here yesterday to visit the Duke and remained quite a while conferring with him. After they had gone I called in your Lordships’ name on Monseigneur de Montison, the commander-in-chief of the whole. He was pleased to see me, and seemed favorably disposed towards your Lordships; and desired me to remind him, when occasion should offer, of whatever he could do in favor of our republic. I also called upon the Baron di Biera, Monseigneur Le Grafis, and Monseigneur de Borsu, lieutenants of Messieurs de Foix, Miolens, and Dunois. I made myself known to them, and they recognized me as having on a former occasion had some negotiations with them. All seemed pleased to see me, and all offered me their services; and so far as I have been able to judge, they are all your friends, and praised your Lordships highly, which is no trifle. If there be anything special that I can do with these gentlemen, I beg your Lordships to instruct me. About three hundred Gascons arrived here to-day; the Swiss are expected within the next few days, and on their arrival it is believed that active operations will be begun.

I told your Lordships in my last, of the 1st instant, that the Protonotario Bentivogli was to arrive here with a safe-conduct, and in fact he did come at the nineteenth hour. He breakfasted with the Duke, and remained afterwards about half an hour with his Excellency, and then left in the direction of Bologna. I have not been able to learn anything of their conversation, because the person that is in the habit of informing me on these sort of intrigues has gone off with him. True, I have learned from one who is familiar with the affairs of the Duke, that the Protonotario is to return here very soon; and that the Duke is willing to make peace with Giovanni Bentivogli and give him ample security, provided he will obligate himself to sustain the Duke against the Orsini and the Vitelli. And when I remarked to him how the Duke could do so with regard to the other confederates, he replied, that his Excellency would arrange it so that he should be ordered to do it by the king of France. And speaking of the advantages that would result from such an arrangement to the Duke, to the republic of Florence, and to Messer Giovanni Bentivogli, supposing that it could be accomplished, he added, that the Duke desired it  very much, as it had been demonstrated to him that it would give more stability to his state to sustain Messer Giovanni, and to have him for a friend, than to drive him out of Bologna and take possession of a place which he could not hold, and which in the end would prove the chief cause of his ruin. And then he went on to say that the Duke of Ferrara had always refused to promise any assistance to his Excellency, and would not do so now unless the Duke first made peace with Bologna.

I endeavored to confirm this individual in that opinion by all the arguments that presented themselves to me. It seems to me certain that such a negotiation is going on, and that both his Excellency and the Duke of Ferrara are desirous of concluding it, of which I deem it proper to advise your Lordships, because it would be so desirable. Although this ought to be communicated to you in cipher, yet as I send it by your own courier I thought I would save myself as well as your Lordships that trouble, and hope you will be satisfied and give me credit therefor.

A person who was formerly master of the horse in your Lordships’ service, and who is now one of the Duke’s bodyguard, told me that, happening to be yesterday evening at the fifth hour at the quarters of the Count Alessandro da Marciano, brother to the Count Rinuccio, the Duke, who was passing by there at the time, had the Count Alessandro called out, and kept him for an hour in conversation. After the Count returned he told this person that the Duke had talked with him about many things, all of which, taken together, indicated on the part of the Duke a desire of revenge rather against those who had imperilled his state than a desire or disposition for peace.

Nothing beyond what I have written above occurs to me in reply to your Lordships’ letter of the 1st; nor have I tried to see the Duke, having nothing new to communicate to him, it being tiresome for him always to hear the same things. I should moreover observe to your Lordships that his Excellency is not accessible except to two or three of his ministers, and to such strangers as may have important business to transact with him. And he never passes out of his antechamber until about the fifth or sixth hour in the evening, and for that reason there is no chance to speak to him except at a specially appointed audience, which he does not grant to any one whom  he knows to have nothing but words to offer. I mention this to your Lordships so that you may not be surprised by my resolve not to speak to the Duke, so as not to be obliged hereafter to communicate to you that I have not been able to obtain an audience.

Bene valete!

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Imola,

3 November, 1502

Niccolo Machiavelli

3 November, 1502

Imola

LETTER XIX.

Magnificent Signori: —

Messer Baldassare Scipione, a gentleman from Sienna, already favorably known to your Lordships by his merits, has recently entered the service of his Excellency the Duke, as captain of a corps of lances formed by him. He is sent by his Excellency to Florence on some business of special interest to the Duke. His Excellency’s treasurer, Messer Alessandro, has begged me to recommend Messer Baldassare to your Lordships, and to solicit, in the name of his Excellency and in his own, your aid and good offices for Messer Baldassare, for which the Duke and himself will ever remain under obligations to you. I beg to add my own humble prayer to that effect, and commend myself to your Lordships.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Imola,

3 November, 1502

Niccolo Machiavelli

8 November, 1502

Imola

LETTER XX.

Magnificent Signori: —

Your Lordships will have learned from my letter of the 5th that the Duke had gone to Salarolo to confer with those French gentlemen. During his absence I received yours of the 5th. His Excellency returned late yesterday evening, and to-day, after having reviewed the Swiss, who begin to arrive, he could not give me an audience until the first hour of the night. I informed him of the mission of Monsignore Volterra to France,  and enlarged as far as was suitable upon the favorable character of the instructions given him as regards his Excellency and his states. And then I added that your Lordships had written me that you had been informed by your envoy at Rome that his Holiness the Pope manifested the same favorable disposition towards the Florentine republic as his Excellency; but that your Lordships nevertheless desired his influence with his Holiness whenever there might be occasion for it. Thereupon his Excellency asked me “what possible occasion could occur.” To which I answered, that “it might be in reference to the remission of some tithes.” He replied that he would do what was necessary, and desired me to thank your Lordships for the instructions given to your envoy to France, the Bishop of Volterra. He also asked me whether the Marquis of Mantua had accepted his military engagement, to which I answered that your Lordships had written me a few days ago that the matter was still in doubt. Thereupon his Excellency asked me, “And what military engagement does your government propose to offer me?” My reply was, that “I did not know your Lordships’ intentions, but that up to that moment I had been under the impression that his Excellency intended rather to take others into his service and pay.” To which the Duke answered, “Being by profession a soldier, and being a friend of your Signoria, would it be honorable for me not to be engaged by them? Nor do I believe that I deceive myself in thinking that I would serve them as well as any other captain.”

He then asked me how many men-at-arms your Lordships intended to keep on foot? To which I made answer, that I did not know your Lordships’ views upon that point, but I believed that you intended to keep at least four hundred. Thereupon he asked me how many the Marquis of Mantua had actually of his own, and how many our republic; and when I told him, he arose, saying, “That is no place for me then,” and withdrew to speak to a French gentleman, whereupon I took my leave. Before entering upon this discussion respecting his being engaged by your Lordships, and the number of men-at-arms, etc., etc., his Excellency said to me, speaking of the Orsini, that the ratification of the treaty had not yet been received, either because those who had to sign it were at some distance from each other, or because some of them were reluctant to sign, in consequence of Giovanni Bentivogli being vexed at being made of  so little account as to have his interests referred to arbitration. But the Duke added that these difficulties caused him less embarrassment than they would have done at a former period, as he was better prepared now. He further observed to me, that it would be well in the mean time if your Lordships were to make some special arrangement with him, so that he might not be entirely dependent upon the other parties; assuring me at the same time that, if he should finally conclude the treaty with the Orsini, it would be done in good faith. And then he added, “Secretary, I beg you to tell me whether your Signoria will go further in sustaining me than by a mere general friendship?” And when I replied to him in accordance with your letters, he said, “I asked you this because, if such a general friendship suffices them, I shall be content with it also, and would not like to indulge the hope of any special engagement, which, if it be afterwards not concluded, would give rise to irritation between us. I desire to be dealt with in entire frankness, etc., etc.” It was after this that he entered upon the discussion which I have related above.

About two hours after this conversation with the Duke an agent of the Bentivogli came to me and told me that he had just had an audience from the Duke, and that shortly after my leaving the court the ratification of the treaty arrived; but that the Duke was nevertheless anxious to conclude a separate treaty with Bologna, and that he had commissioned him at once to send a messenger to the Protonotario to have him come here immediately. He has not yet arrived, having injured one of his toes. Moreover it is reported to-day that the castle of Pergola had surrendered to the troops of the Orsini, which things agitate the minds of a good many persons, but I cannot write differently to your Lordships from what I hear. It is said that the Swiss and the remainder of the French lances will reach here in the course of this week. Conversing with one of the Duke’s secretaries about the coming of these French, he told me that his Excellency had given orders for a part of them to stop at Parma, and not to approach any nearer here. Whereupon I said to him, “The Duke then does not wish to protect himself against his enemies?” He answered, “You are the cause of this, because your Signoria did not seize the opportunity to secure the Duke and themselves.” To which I observed, “that the means of so doing had not been indicated to us;  but that your Lordships had never failed to do your utmost in behalf of your friends.”

I have spoken to the Duke about the Gaddi affair, and he told me to make his secretary remind him of it. For the present I think of nothing more, but shall go to court to-morrow to see whether I can learn anything respecting the articles of the treaty, and will advise your Lordships of whatever I may hear.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Imola,

8 November, 1502

Niccolo Machiavelli

8 November, 1502

Imola

LETTER XXI.

Magnificent Signori: —

Apart from what I have written in the enclosed, I must communicate to your Lordships a conversation I had with that friend of mine, who, as I have mentioned to you, told me within the past few days that it was not well for you to remain on general good terms with the Duke; and that it would be an easy matter for you to form a close alliance with him, each desiring it and having both the same enemies. That individual, having appointed an interview with me yesterday evening, said to me: “Secretary, I have on a former occasion intimated to you that for your Signoria to remain on mere general good terms with the Duke was of little advantage to him, and still less to you; for this reason, that the Duke, seeing that all remains in uncertainty with regard to your Signoria, will form an alliance with others. I wish to talk this over with you at length this evening, and although I speak only for myself, yet I have good grounds for what I am about to say to you. The Duke knows very well that the Pope may die any day, and that, if he desires to preserve the states which he has, it behooves him to think of basing his power upon some other foundation before the death of the Pope. His first reliance will be upon the king of France, the next upon his own armed forces; and we see that he has already brought together nearly five hundred men-at-arms, and as many light cavalry, which will be in effective condition within a few days. But as he foresees that in time these  two reliances might not suffice him, he thinks of making his neighbors his allies and friends; and those who of necessity must defend him, if they wish to defend themselves, are the Florentines, the Bolognese, and Mantua and Ferrara. To begin with the last, you see what an alliance he has formed with Ferrara; for besides the marriage of his sister with so large a dowry, he has already bestowed and continues to shower favors upon the Ferrarese Cardinal. With Mantua the Duke is negotiating two matters; the one is a cardinal’s hat for the brother of the Marquis, and the other a marriage between the Duke’s daughter and the son of the Marquis. As compensation for the hat, the Marquis and his brother are to deposit forty thousand ducats, which sum is afterwards to constitute the dowry of the Duke’s daughter. These things are to be carried into effect anyhow, and are obligations calculated to preserve friendships. With Bologna he is also negotiating some arrangement separate from the other confederates; and so far as I see, it is in a fair way of accomplishment, for the Duke of Ferrara desires it very much. His Excellency Duke Valentino is well disposed for it and the terms are favorable for the Bentivogli. And in fact the Duke was never as anxious for the possession of Bologna as he has been to assure himself of Romagna, and whenever he succeeds in that he will be satisfied. Thus, if those four states which adjoin each other become united and well armed, they are not to be disregarded. And the king of France, knowing that he can rely upon them, is disposed even to increase their power. As to your Florentine Signoria, it is less than three days since that I heard the Duke argue that he wished they would make free use of his territory, as he would of theirs, they being both friends of the  king of France and himself; and that he had no intention of acting adversely to them in any way, even if no definite treaty were concluded between them; but should it really come to such a treaty, then they would find out the difference between his friendship and that of others. But to come back to the main point, I tell you that to remain on mere general good terms would be a greater disadvantage for your Signoria than for the Duke; for his Excellency having the good will of the king and of the aforementioned princes, whilst your Signoria have no other support than that of the king, they will find that they have more need of the Duke than the Duke of them. However, I do not by any means wish to say that the Duke is not disposed to render them any service; but should it happen that they really have need of him, and he being under no obligations to them, he would be free to aid them or not, as might seem good to him. Now were you to ask me what they ought to do, and that I should specify some particulars, I would reply, that you for your part have two sores, which, if you do not heal them, will enfeeble you and perhaps cause your death. The one is Pisa, and the other is Vitellozzo. If now you were to recover the former, and if the latter were crushed, would not that be a great advantage for your republic? And so far as the Duke is concerned, I tell you that his Excellency would be satisfied with the honor of having his former engagement renewed by your Signoria, which he would value more than money or anything else; so that if you were to find means for bringing this about, everything would be satisfactorily settled. And if you were to tell me with regard to Vitellozzo, that the Duke has made a compact with him and the Orsini, I should reply that the ratification of it has not yet been received, and that the Duke would give the best town he possesses that that ratification should not come; or that such a compact had never been talked about. Still, if the ratification should come, I would say, ‘Where there are men there are means’; and it is better to come to an understanding, and that orally rather than by writing. You must understand, furthermore, that it is necessary for the Duke to save a portion of the Orsini; for in case of the Pope’s death it is important for the Duke to have some friends in Rome. But he cannot bear to hear the name of Vitellozzo as much as mentioned; for he regards him as a  venomous serpent, and as a firebrand for Tuscany and for all Italy, who has done and continues to do all he can to prevent the Orsini from ratifying the treaty, as they ought to do. I desire, therefore, that you should write to the Gonfalonier, or to the Ten, what I have said to you, although it comes altogether from me. Remind them also of another thing, namely, that it might easily happen that the king of France should direct your Signoria to maintain the engagement of the Duke, and to place their troops at his service, which they would in that case be obliged to do without receiving any credit for it. And therefore you should remind your Signoria that, when a service has to be rendered, it is better to perform it of one’s own free will, and so as to have it appreciated rather than otherwise.”

And finally he begged me to treat with the utmost discretion what he had said against Vitellozzo, as well as other important matters. The argument of this friend of mine was quite lengthy, and of a character that will be appreciated by your Lordships. I replied briefly, and only to those points that seemed specially to require it. In the first instance, I told him that his Excellency the Duke had acted wisely in arming himself and in securing allies; and secondly, I confessed to him that it was our earnest desire to recover Pisa, and to secure ourselves against Vitellozzo, although we did not regard him as of much account. Thirdly, with regard to the engagement of the Duke I told him, speaking all the while, however, only for myself, that the power of his Excellency the Duke was not to be measured in the same way as that of the other lords, who so far as their states were concerned had nothing to show but simply their carriages, whilst the Duke must be looked upon as a new power in Italy, with which it was better to conclude a friendship and alliance rather than a military engagement. And I added, that, as alliances between princes are maintained only by arms, inasmuch as the power of arms alone could enforce their observance, your Lordships would not be able to see what security they could have for their part when three fourths or three fifths of their troops were under the control of the Duke. But I wanted him to know that I did not say this because I doubted the good faith of the Duke, but because I knew your Lordships to be prudent men; that it was the duty of governments to be circumspect,  and never to expose themselves by their acts to be deceived. As to what he had said with regard to the possibility of the king of France’s commanding your Lordships to do certain things, I said that there was not a doubt but what his Majesty might dispose of the Florentine republic as of his own property; but neither the king nor any one else could make your Lordships do what was not possible. My friend replied only to that part of my remarks which related to the Duke’s engagement, saying that I had spoken frankly and loyally, which was very gratifying to him; suggesting at the same time that the three hundred men might really be reduced to two hundred, whilst nominally the number of three hundred might be maintained; and to facilitate this, one tenth of the difference might be conceded to your Lordships, or two thirds to the priests. As my friend could not continue the conversation any longer, owing to his other important occupations, he left me, urging me, however, to make the substance of his argument known in the proper place; but with an injunction of secrecy. This I have done herewith, as your Lordships will observe.

I cannot say whether these suggestions were inspired by the Duke, or whether they originate with my friend; all I can tell you is, that the latter is one of the Duke’s chief ministers; and if all this is merely the result of his own imagination, it is quite possible that he deceives himself, for he is a man of the best and most benevolent disposition. I beg your Lordships will examine the whole subject, and let me have your reply.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Imola,

8 November, 1502

Niccolo Machiavelli

10 November, 1502

Imola

LETTER XXII.

Magnificent Signori: —

I replied to your Lordships’ letters of the 3d and 5th by mine of the 8th, which I sent by the son of Francesco Totti, and hope it has reached you safely, for I deem it of some importance, and await your reply. By this I desire to inform your Lordships that the Protonotario Bentivogli arrived here to-day. I had a conversation with him before he saw the Duke, and found him entirely devoted to your Lordships. The object  of his coming here is, as I have stated in a former letter, to conclude a treaty of amity between Bologna and his Excellency the Duke, and to avoid the arbitration provided for in the articles of agreement with the confederates.

It is believed that matters will be arranged between them in some way, for the Duke desires it, and it would be advantageous for the Bentivogli. Those who doubt it on account of the league between the Bentivogli and the Orsini must bear in mind that the former consider themselves unfairly treated in the agreement concluded with the Signor Paolo, because their differences are referred to an arbitration.

To enable your Lordships the better to understand these intrigues, I stated in my last communication that after my last conversation with the Duke the ratification of the treaty had arrived. It has indeed been ratified by all the confederates except Messer Giovanni Bentivogli, who did not feel himself secure whilst his affairs were subject to an arbitration, and therefore protested from the first against the terms of the treaty. There is another matter which your Lordships must know, namely, that the validity of this treaty also requires the ratification of it by the Sovereign Pontiff, who, as will be seen from a brief address to Signor Trocces, of which I send a copy, consents that Trocces should ratify it in his name, provided the same shall have first been ratified by the Cardinal Orsino, Pandolfo Petrucci, and Messer Giovanni Bentivogli. Two things are therefore wanting to give effect to this treaty; one, the ratification by the Pope, and the other, that of Messer Giovanni. The refusal of the latter necessarily involves that of the Pontiff, and it is believed that Alexander VI. has given his power to ratify the treaty in his name with the above condition, knowing that Messer Giovanni will save himself by forming a close alliance with the Duke, and that his Excellency the Duke will afterwards make sure of a good part of his adversaries. In reading attentively the articles of this treaty, of which I enclose copy herewith, your Lordships will see that they are full of mistrusts and suspicions; and if you will at the same time bear in mind what is thought of it here, your habitual wisdom will enable you to judge what may be expected from it. I have not obtained the copy of said treaty and brief of the Pope from the Duke’s chancelry, as had been promised me, but have it from another source.

I have nothing further to communicate to your Lordships at present, except that two things only are wanting before marching the army towards Pesaro; namely, the arrival of the remainder of the French lances and of the Swiss, and the conclusion of this treaty with Messer Giovanni; and both are expected very shortly.

I commend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Imola,

10 November, 1502

Copy of the Treaty between the Duke of Valentinois of the one part, and the Orsini and their adherents of the other, sent by Niccolo Machiavelli to the Decemvirs of Liberty of the Republic of Florence.

Be it made known and manifest to the parties hereto subscribing, and to all others to whom these presents shall come, that inasmuch as there have arisen between the most illustrious Duke of Romagna and the Orsini and their confederates certain controversies, enmities, misunderstandings, and suspicions, and both parties being desirous to allay these suspicions and animosities, and to terminate all their differences, they hereby conclude: —

A true and perpetual peace, concord, and union, with a complete remission of all claims for damages or injuries mutually done up to the present day, and on account of which they promise each other to bear no resentment. And in conformity with such peace and union, the aforesaid most illustrious Duke of Romagna receives into his confederation, league, and perpetual alliance all the aforementioned Signori, and each one of them, and promises to defend their states collectively and separately against whatever power attempts to molest or attack them, for any cause whatever. Excepting, nevertheless, always his Holiness Pope Alexander VI. and his Most Christian Majesty King Louis XII. of France. And on the other hand the aforementioned Signori promise in the same manner to aid in the defence of the person and of the states of his Excellency, as well as of the illustrious Signori Don Zofre Borgia, Prince of Squillaci, Don Roderigo Borgia, Duke of Sermoneta and Biselli, and Don Giovanni Borgia,  Duke of Camerino and Neppe, brothers and nephews of the most illustrious Duke of Romagna; and each and all of the aforementioned Signori will aid and contribute to that effect.

Item. Inasmuch as during the existence of the aforementioned differences, controversies, and dissensions, the rebellion and occupation of the states of Urbino and Camerino have occurred, therefore the aforementioned confederates jointly and each one separately obligate themselves to assist with all their forces in the recovery of the above-named states, cities, and other places that may have rebelled or may have been occupied.

Item. The aforementioned most illustrious Duke of Romagna agrees to continue to the Orsini and the Vitelli their former military engagements and compensation.

Item. His Excellency aforesaid wills and promises that the aforementioned Condottieri shall not be obliged to render personal service to his Excellency in camp, except one at a time, and that according to their own pleasure.

Item. The aforesaid illustrious Duke promises also to have the present articles of agreement ratified and confirmed by the Sovereign Pontiff, who will not oblige his Eminence the Signor Cardinal Orsino to go and remain in Rome, excepting so far as it may be the pleasure of his Eminence.

Item. Inasmuch as certain differences exist between his Holiness the Pope and Messer Giovanni Bentivogli, the aforementioned confederate Signori agree that all these differences shall be referred to his Eminence the Cardinal Orsino, his Excellency the Duke of Romagna, and the Magnificent Pandolfo Petrucci, from whose judgment there shall be no recourse or appeal.

Item. The aforementioned Signori collectively, and each of them separately, obligate themselves and promise, whenever required by his Excellency the Duke of Romagna, to place in his hands as hostages one of the legitimate sons of each of them, at such time and in such place as it may please his Excellency the Duke to indicate.

Item. The aforementioned confederate Signori obligate themselves collectively and separately, whenever any plot or machination against any one of them shall come to their knowledge, immediately to inform the one against whom it is intended of the same, as well as all the others reciprocally.

Item. It is agreed between the aforesaid Duke of Romagna and the above-mentioned Signori to regard and treat as a common enemy whoever fails to observe the stipulations of this agreement; and all to unite in the destruction of the state of the party that fails to conform to these presents.

Given at

Imola,

28 October, 1502

Cesare.

I, Paolo Orsino, have subscribed.
Agapito.

Copy of a Brief from the Pope to Messer Troccio.

To our beloved son, Francesco Troccio, our Protonatorio and Camerino, greeting and Apostolic benediction!

We have taken cognizance of the treaty concluded and confirmed between our beloved son, Don Cesare Borgia, Duke of Romagna, and our beloved son, Paolo Orsino, of the house and family of the Orsini and their confederates, whereof thou hast sent me a copy with thy letters. And considering that the articles of agreement made and concluded have been made regularly, and believing them to have been made with good intentions, and that the parties thereto will observe them resolutely and honestly: —

Therefore, having particular confidence in thy fidelity and prudence, we order and enjoin thee, by the tenor of these presents, that after the said treaty shall have been accepted and ratified by our beloved son, the Cardinal Orsino, and Pandolfo Petrucci of Sienna, and Giovanni Bentivogli of Bologna in the name of the other confederates, thou approve and confirm the same in our name; to which end we give thee full and entire authority.

Given in Rome, at St. Peter’s, under the seal of the fisherman, 4 November, 1502, and in the eleventh year of our Pontificate.

Niccolo Machiavelli

13 November, 1502

Imola

LETTER XXIII.

Magnificent Signori: —

Humbly commending myself to your Lordships, I beg to say that, if you are surprised at not having received any letters from me, I regret it exceedingly for my part, but it has been from no fault of mine. Instead of Tommaso Totti, there came here a man on foot, who with very little practical knowledge of the country was but little accustomed to walking. On the 8th I gave him my letters in reply to yours, which were of as much importance as any that I have written since my being here. I would send your Lordships a duplicate of them if your courier had not told me that before leaving Florence he had met the bearer of my first despatches of the 5th. Although I happened to write privately to the Gonfaloniere upon public events, which was not much, I wrote nevertheless to your Lordships first on the 3d instant; and my last was of the 10th, which I sent you by the hands of Jacopo, a carrier of Monticelli, together with a copy of the treaty, and all the news from here, which letter ought to reach you to-day. I therefore beg your Lordships to hold me excused, and to bear in mind that matters here cannot be guessed at. And you must understand that we have to do here with a prince who governs by himself. To avoid writing mere fancies and reveries, one must study matters well, and in so doing time passes, and I endeavor to spend mine advantageously, and not to throw it away.

I shall not repeat what I have written in mine of the 8th and 10th, hoping that they are safely in your hands, although somewhat late. Your Lordships will have seen from those letters the turn that matters are taking here; and you will also have learned from them, at least in part, the disposition of the Duke, as well as what he told me in the conversations I had with him and with that friend of mine, who insists every day that he who temporizes seeks for better bread than can be made of wheat, and misses the opportunity when it presents itself. To which I reply that the delay is owing, first, to the desire of learning the wishes of the king of France; and next, by that of sending to Rome to ascertain the views of the Pope, which now depends on the going of the Bishop of Volterra  to France, and upon the coming of the Archdeacon of Celon here, all which is construed into intentional delay.

People are not wanting here who say that it is the custom of your Lordships to act thus, and I am reproached every day that ever since 1499 your Lordships, from not having taken sides with the French or the Duke, were first badly served by the Duke, and afterwards crushed by the king of France. I defend and maintain the honor of the republic as best I can, adducing all the arguments in my power, and they are plenty, but they are not admitted. I did not wish to write all this to your Lordships until to-day, lest I should be accused of presumption. However, seeing things go as I had anticipated, I prefer to complain of misrepresentations, rather than repent later of not having informed you of what is passing here. Your Lordships ask many explanations of me, and I believe that up to the present you will find that I have complied with your requirements, provided that all my letters have been read. In the first instance, your Lordships desire to hear whether people here believe in peace rather than in war. To this I have replied that they talk of peace and make preparations for war. And as regards peace I have written what has been done here by the Signor Paolo Orsino, and since then I have sent you a copy of the articles of agreement with my letter of the 10th, and pointed out the difficulties that have arisen because Messer Giovanni Bentivogli had refused to ratify that agreement, and because of the instructions from the Pope to Trocces. So that pending the ratification of Messer Giovanni and of the Pope, the treaty itself remains in suspense. On the 30th of the last month, I informed you of the conjectures made here as to the manner in which this peace might be effected, and of the difficulties that stand in the way. In view of the character of the Duke and that of the others, it was deemed impossible that any agreement could be brought about between them; but that most likely the Duke would be able to detach some of the confederates from their league. We now see things going that way because, as I have written before, the Protonotario Bentivogli is here, and is negotiating a separate convention with the Duke, which is as good as concluded. The Bentivogli may be able to justify this course to the other confederates, because in the general treaty the affairs of Bologna have been left to arbitration, whilst their security is the  guaranty of the king of France of the observance of that treaty. And this evening whilst conversing with the Protonotario, he asked me whether your Lordships would also guarantee this treaty to both parties, the same as the king of France? To which I replied that your Lordships would not hesitate to unite in any engagement with his Majesty the king of France. Of the conditions of this treaty I can say nothing, not having heard anything on the subject satisfactory to myself. Should it be argued that it may be difficult for the Duke to give up the idea of not taking Bologna, then I reply the same as I have written before, that it has been demonstrated to him that it will be better to establish a durable friendship than to take a city which he would not be able to hold. However, the Orsini and the Vitelli have given him cause for acting with prudence, and have shown him that it behooves him to think more of what he has acquired than to strive to acquire more. And the means of so preferring his state is to be armed with troops of his own, to treat his subjects kindly, and to make his neighbors his friends. This it seems it is his intention to do, according to what my friend tells me, and as I have stated to your Lordships in my letter of the 8th.

As to the treaty with the confederates, the ratification of which came as I have written you, his Excellency has sent some one to the Orsini to try and settle the difficulty made by Messer Giovanni, and thus he gains time. The Orsini, meanwhile, remain in the territory of Fano, without moving a step forwards or backwards; and thus this part of the general peace remains in uncertainty. The party that knows best how to impose upon the others will carry the day; and he will best impose upon the others who is strongest in troops and in allies. So much for the question of peace or of war.

I have already advised your Lordships of the preparations making here; these are steadily continued and urged, although they are later than what it was thought they should have been made. For the better information of your Lordships as to the troops and mounted men here now, and what are expected, I enclose a list of the same, made up from what I have gathered from several persons; not having actually seen them myself, I am obliged to depend for my information upon others. The Duke is here, and will not leave until after the arrival of the Swiss, who are looked for this week; and the remainder of  the French lances are expected daily. The Duke, as I have mentioned several times, receives all the enemies of Pandolfo, Gianpaolo, Vitellozzo, and of the Orsini.

I have nothing else of interest to communicate at this time, but beg your Lordships to excuse me if my communications are not satisfactory; and commend myself most humbly.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Imola,

13 November, 1502

Niccolo Machiavelli

14 November, 1502

Imola

LETTER XXIV.

Magnificent Signori: —

After writing you on the 13th by the courier Carlo, in reply to yours of the 11th, there arrived here on the same day the Conte Lodovico della Mirandola with his troops. I can now give you an exact account of these forces, having myself counted thirty-four men-at-arms and seventy light-horse; they are quartered at Doccia, three miles from here, in the direction of Bologna. I also wrote to your Lordships in my last as well as in previous letters, that the negotiations with the Bentivogli were being much pressed; and that the Protonotario was here, and was receiving the most friendly attentions at the hands of the Duke. Yesterday morning I conversed quite a while with his Reverence; he spoke of the great advantage which the Duke’s friendship would be for them, if they could rely upon it, and how much the Duke, if well advised, ought to desire their good will. In short, I gathered from what the Protonotario said, that the treaty between them would have been already concluded, but for the fact that the Duke wanted the Pope to be a principal party to the agreement; it having always been the ambition of the Pope to bring Bologna back to her obedience to the Church, which other pontiffs had not succeeded in doing. And therefore the Duke wanted the Pope to make this treaty, for which purpose Messer Romolino, his Excellency’s secretary, has been sent on horseback to Rome. I learn that the convention between them contains two principal items. First, an alliance between the Bishop of Euna or the Cardinal Borgia and these Bentivogli, which is to be effected in one of two ways: either the Protonotario quits the Church, and marries  the sister of the Cardinal, or Messer Hermes Bentivogli marries her, after having first broken off his engagement with one of the ladies of the Orsino family. The other is, that the Bentivogli are bound to sustain the Duke with a certain number of men-at-arms against whoever may attack him. It is said that some differences have arisen in consequence of the Duke’s claiming to have that service performed by the Bentivogli without any compensation to them, whilst they demand to be paid for it in full, or at least in part. There are also some old accounts to be settled by this treaty; and something is said about a Cardinal’s hat for the Protonotario, in case he does not leave the Church. Of all this I have no particulars, nor can I vouch for all I have written above.

Messer Romolino started this morning, and went in company with the Protonotario in the direction of Bologna, for the purpose of conferring with Messer Giovanni about the treaty. Messer Romolino will continue on from there towards Rome. I therefore write you this so that, inasmuch as he does not travel by post, your Lordships may show him some honor when he reaches Florence, and learn something from him concerning these matters. It is said at court that the Duke will leave here on Tuesday, and will go to Cesena, where he will halt with his troops. As the messenger that was sent a few days ago by his Excellency to the Orsini has not yet returned, we are without news from Fano; but I was told to-day that a difference had arisen between Vitellozzo and Gianpaolo in relation to the conditions of the treaty, with which the former is exceedingly dissatisfied.

Of the Swiss and the men-at-arms that are yet to arrive here, I know nothing more than what I have written in my last. Money is expected from Florence to enable the troops here to take the field; and eight days ago the same Guglielmo Buonaccorsi whom I have mentioned in former letters was sent there. To return to the treaty with the confederates, the opinion here is that they will never be able to make it general, so as to embrace every one, unless they should agree amongst themselves to attack some third party; and therefore let those who fear this think of it betimes, and take the necessary steps to prevent such an arrangement.

I recommend myself to your Lordships.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Imola,

14 November, 1502

P. S. The messenger that brings this is to leave here to-morrow at noon; I was obliged to employ one of my own servants for this purpose, as there was no other opportunity of sending it. Your Lordships will please pay him six lire.

N. M.

Niccolo Machiavelli

16 November, 1502

Imola

LETTER XXV.

Magnificent Signori: —

Yesterday morning I sent to your Lordships, by my servant Antonio, my letter of the 14th, which must have been received by this time. I write now to communicate what I have learned since then respecting the condition of the treaty that has been so long in course of negotiation between the confederates and the Duke; which amounts in fact to this, that the Signor Paolo left here with a draft of the treaty, which was afterwards retouched in some particulars by the other parties, and reduced to what I sent a copy of to your Lordships. They then sent it back to the Duke signed and ratified by them. But having been retouched, as I said, his Excellency thought proper also to add some things and strike out others, according to his own views; and then he sent it by one of his men to the other parties, with instructions to let them understand that, if they would accept it thus, it was well; if not, he would go no further in the matter. His messenger left here on the 8th or 9th, and yesterday evening one of the Duke’s secretaries showed me a letter which that messenger had written to his Excellency, dated the 13th instant, from Sienna. It ran thus:— “I found Signor Paolo Orsino here; he expresses surprise that your Excellency has sent him neither answer nor instructions in relation to the matter submitted to you by him in the name of the other confederates. And in fact, after explaining to him and to Pandolfo Petrucci the instructions of your illustrious Lordship, after some discussion, everything was concluded in good shape and settled in accordance with your Excellency’s orders. Signor Paolo and Pandolfo have duly ratified the agreement. Messer Antonio Venafro has ratified it for the Cardinal Orsino, who had given him full powers to that effect. There being no one here who had power to sign  for Vitellozzo nor for Gianpaolo and Messer Liverotto, Pandolfo and Signor Paolo have pledged themselves that they shall ratify it, as you will learn more particularly from said Signor Paolo, who is coming to see your Excellency.” These are in substance the words of that letter. Signor Paolo is expected here this evening, and should I learn any further particulars in relation to this matter, you shall be duly advised.

The Duke of Urbino sent here two daysago to request a safe-conduct from his Excellency for a citizen of Urbino, through whom he desired to communicate some matters to his Excellency. The safe-conduct was sent in blank; and when this individual arrives, I will endeavor to find out the objectof his coming, and advise your Lordships of it.

Yesterday, according to report, orders were given to provide quarters for one hundred and fifty French lances; these come from Tosignano, Fontana, and Condriono, which places are at the foot of themountains on the Bolognese borders. Of the Swiss I have heardnothing more; nor have we any intelligence from the direction of Fano, except that a certain Giovan Battista Mancino, captain of four hundred infantry who are in cantonments near Montefeltro, some eight miles from Rimini, was robbed by some citizens of Montefeltro, and arrived here to-day with nothing but his doublet on. In relation to Bolognese matters we are waiting to hear what will be done at Rome by Messer Romolino, who left Bologna yesterday morning. The Duke’s departure from here seems postponed until probably Sunday, and other matters remain as I wrote you last.

The price of grain here is forty soldi a bushel of our measure; and a certain Messer Jacopo of Borgo, governor of the place, told me that it was found that every city is short of grain, some one and some two months’ supply. The presence of the foreign troops willincrease this deficiency, and evidently this country cannot offer very comfortable quarters for them, notwithstanding that the Duke draws supplies from elsewhere. I bring this to your Lordships’ notice, so that none may be drawn from the Florentine territory.

There is a Messer Gabriello of Bergamo here, who brings money from Venice, and does much business here. He showed me a letter yesterday that came from Venice, and gives the news that four caravels had returned from Calcutta to Portugal laden with spices; which has caused a great decline in  the price of spices at Venice, and does great injury to that city.

I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Imola,

16 November, 1502

The bearer of this leaves at the twenty-second hour, and has promised to be at Florence to-morrow evening, for which I have promised him a gold florin; which your Lordships will kindly have paid to him.

Niccolo Machiavelli

20 November, 1502

LETTER XXVI.

Magnificent Signori: —

Your Lordships have seen from my letters of the 8th, 10th, and 13th, how I have gathered from different persons the intentions of his Excellency the Duke; and although all point very much in the same direction, yet his Excellency has not fully explained himself, nor has he entered into the many particulars given me by my friend. But neither my friend nor the Duke has furnished me those rather questionable examples which another person has given me, with whom I have had occasion to talk upon this subject. Although in your letter of the 15th your Lordships reply only in a general manner to what I have written, nevertheless I know that I have done my duty in replying to each according to his communications. I did this the more readily as your Lordships had recommended to me to conduct myself in this matter with as much reserve as I might deem suitable. Yesterday evening I had a long interview with the Duke, and began my remarks by referring to the mistrust which his Excellency had manifested with regard to your Lordships in asking me, at our last interview, whether I really believed that your Lordships intended to contract a close alliance with him, or not. I told his Excellency that I had informed your Lordships of this mistrust, and that it had caused you much regret and displeasure. And then, in conformity with the suggestions made by you at the beginning of your letter, I enlarged upon the many proofs which you had given, without reserve or fear, of your good will towards him. Having touched upon  this sufficiently, I came to the question of his engagement, and observed to him that this matter had caused you much pain, partly because it was an impossible thing for you to do, and partly also because it had seemed to me that, in his first conversation upon this point, he had manifested more regard for his private interests than for the common benefit; and that your Lordships could not see any way in which they could with propriety meet his wishes; for an engagement of importance they could not contract with him, and an inconsiderable one they dared not offer him. And finally I made him understand that provided these difficulties could be removed, and if his Excellency would limit himself to what was possible and safe for your Lordships, having, however, always due regard to the king of France, you were disposed from the present moment to form the closest alliance with him. I enlarged very much upon this point, keeping, however, always two important considerations in view: the one, not to deviate from your Lordships’ instructions, and the other, not to make use of any words or expressions that could wound his Excellency. The Duke seemed to listen to me with pleasure, and gave no sign of dissatisfaction, and on closing my remarks he said to me: “See now, all this amounts to nothing, and, as I told you the last time, the question between us is either of a general friendship or a special alliance. If we are to remain on terms of a mere general friendship, then there is nothing more to be said on the subject; for I have always told you, and shall be as good as my word, that I shall not permit a single hair of your Signoria to be touched, that I shall ever be ready to render them any service in my power, and that the citizens of your republic shall enjoy every convenience within my dominions. But if the question be as to a special alliance, and your Signoria refuse me the engagement, then there is nothing more for me to do, because they reject the very foundation of such a special alliance.”

I did not fail to reply to all this, saying that mere general friendships impose no obligations, and are readily changed by time, that good and ill fortune do not remain always on the same side, that every day alliances are contracted where there is no question of an engagement, and that the most durable friendships are those in which each party finds its advantage. I added many other reflections, which at the time seemed to me  to the purpose, but which it would be superfluous to repeat here. It will suffice for your Lordships’ intelligence to know that the Duke remarked, in conclusion, that if your Lordships were content with a general friendship, so was he; adding, with many obliging words, that if at any time you wished to draw the friendship closer, you were now in possession of his views and intentions in the matter.

More than this I could not by any further remarksof mine obtain from him. After this discussion the Duke spoke to me of the events taking place here; that he looked uponthe Bologna matter as settled; and respecting the Orsini and the Vitelli he said that he was expecting the Signor Paolo here. I on my part spoke of the safe-conduct whichwe had obtained, and of the circumstances that had given rise to it. Of Vitellozzo and Gianpaolo he spoke in the most sinister manner; whereupon I said to him that I had always felt convinced that he would be victorious, and that if on the first day of my arrival I had written down my view of these matters, and he were to read it now, it would seem to him like prophecy; and that one of the reasons that had made me think thus was that he was alone, and had to deal with a combination of several adversaries; but that it was easy for him to break the ties that united them. To which the Duke replied, that virtually he had already broken them, and that he had already disembarrassed himself of more than four of them. Inspeaking of Gianpaolo he said that he had boasted of being on such good terms with your Lordships; in answer to which I said that Gianpaolo had formerly been our friend, having been in our pay, and that he was a man of courage; but that inhis late transactions he had rendered us a very bad service. Thereupon the Duke said: “I want to tell you this, which your Signoria do not know as yet. Before Gianpaolo left Perugia to join Vitellozzo he wrote me a letter, saying, ‘You know how thoroughly I detest Vitellozzo, and yet I want to unite with him for the purpose of re-establishing the Medici in Florence; but I do not wish to have it appear as though I was doing it for the love of Vitellozzo, and therefore I beg you will write me a letter ordering me to undertake this enterprise.’ And I did write him such a letter, but do not know now whether he has not made use of it to do me an injury.” To which I replied that Ihad never heard of this.

Afterwards coming back again to the case of Vitellozzo, the Duke said to me, among other things: “I will tell you of another act of perfidy on his part, which he attempted to practise against me, and which has come to my knowledge within the last few days. You will remember when we first entered upon the Florentine territory with our troops; well, Vitellozzo, seeing that he did not succeed in what he aimed at, and supposing that I would never suspect him, thought, without my knowing anything about it, to make terms with theOrsini, to take Prato by surprise during the night, and to leave me defenceless in the midst of your country. He communicated his project to some one, who told me of it only two days ago; and when this individual asked Vitellozzo upon what basis he had founded his scheme, and how he would maintain himself in Prato, he answered, that all things required at the beginning an impulse to be given them, but that then the middle and the end would follow of necessity. This, however, did not happen in his case; for having gone to reconnoitre Prato, he found the walls higher and better guarded than he had supposed.” The Duke added, “And now his only talent is to plot treason; and every day proves that the Florentines proceeded justly against his brother.” I made a suitable reply, but from all the Duke’s conversation I have only gained the conviction of his deep hatred of Vitellozzo, without being able to gather how he is going to proceed against him.

Since then I have had a conversation with my friend, and according to your Lordships’ instructions I put the Duke’s engagement entirely aside, and with regard to Pisa and Vitellozzo I employed almost the very words which your Lordships have written; adding such other observations as would bear upon the proposed alliance. Respecting Vitellozzo I could learn nothing except that the Duke is animated by a most bitter hatred against him. As to Pisa he said: “At first the Duke’s forces will move towards Urbino; after that they may go further, towards Perugia, Castello, and Sienna; and once in that neighborhood it will be easy suddenly to throw them upon Pisa; and if they find that city unprepared, it would be  an easy matter to take it. But it will be necessary to manage it with great secrecy; I do not know whether this can be done at present, since the creation of this perpetual Gonfalonier, and whether your Signoria will be able to dispose of some twentyfive or thirty thousand ducats which will be needed, without being obliged to render an account of them to any one.”

I shall not repeat what I answered, as I do not wish to weary your Lordships; allI will say is, that I have endeavored to do my duty. Respecting the engagement of the Duke, this friend said that the honor of the Duke did not require that this matter should not be spoken of. And after a little reflection he added, that theengagement might be changed into a subsidy, and that your Lordships ought to give it to him. I replied, that that would be changing the name, but not the thing itself; and that if it was desired that I should enter into communication with your Lordships in reference to such a subsidy,it would be necessary that I should be able to point out to you the reciprocal advantages of it, and that such advantage must be clear and immediate. All this I said as coming only from myself. My friend said that he would think of the matter, and thus the conversation ended. I have nothing else to write to your Lordships in answer to your letter of the 15th. As for those others who talk to me every day of these matters, I always have answered and shall continue to answer them as seems to me proper.

The remainder of the French that were expected here have arrived; they are lodged where I have before mentioned to your Lordships that quarters had been ordered for them; and according to what I was told by a certain Messer Federigo, a confidential person of the Cardinal San Giorgio, who came here two days ago, all the French that left Parma to come here to the support of the Duke, counting in those who came first as well as those last arrived, amount to four hundred and fifty lances. I do not know whether this is the exact truth, but it accords with what they say themselves; and this Messer Federigo comes direct from Parma, where he has been for many days.

The Swiss have not yet come, nor have I heard where they are; but their arrival here will not be long delayed.

The conclusion of the agreement on the part of the Orsini awaits the arrival of Signor Paolo, who has not yet made his  appearance; and on the part of the Bentivogli it depends on Messer Romolino, who, as I have already written, has gone to Rome; but we hear of no movement on his part.

His Excellency the Duke is still here, and when I asked Messer Alessandro the treasurer, yesterday, when he would leave, he said that they were waiting for a reply from a certain Messer Ercolano, who had been sent to Milan several days ago. No one knows what to think of the warlike preparations of the Duke in the midst of all these peace negotiations, particularly in view of his good faith, which may be relied upon. Messer Giovanni is full of apprehensions, notwithstanding all the honors shown to his Protonotario, and the earnestness with which the agreements are being urged forward. For he sees the Duke’s forces constantly increasing; and that so far from leaving, the Duke remains here to the great discomfort of the inhabitants of the place, as well as his own. Moreover, he sees the Conte Lodovico della Mirandola arrive and go into quarters at Doccia; and the French that have lately come here by way of Ferrara, and who were to go from here to Rimini by way of Faenza, have been made to retrace their steps by the Duke’s orders, and are quartered in three small castles, which, as I have lately written to your Lordships, are situated on the confines of the Bolognese territory in the direction of Piancaldoli, where they are not only uncomfortable, but entirely away from their route. Some companies of infantry are also returning here, being a portion of those who have lately been sent in the direction of this city; which has given rise to various conjectures. Nevertheless, it is not believed that he will fail of his word where he has once given it.

The Venetians seeing the clouds gathering here, have sent the Conte di Pitigliano with one thousand horse to Ravenna, so as not to be taken unawares. They feel no apprehensions for your Lordships, as the main forces of the Duke consist of French troops, who it is supposed will not be inclined to attack or injure you; were it otherwise, then nobody would answer for your safety. As to what the Vitelli and the Orsini have to fear, your Lordships are better able to discern it than can be done from here; in fact, there is no head sufficiently secure to dare to form any definite idea upon that point.

About twenty Pisan cavaliers have come here in search of an engagement for pay; I do not know whether they will be  accepted, and have taken no steps either in their favor or against them, for I really know not which would be best.

There was a report here this morning that Bologna had risen in revolt, under the apprehension that had gained ground there that Messer Giovanni was about to sell the city to the Duke. It is believed that these are mere popular lies, for they lack all confirmation.

I recommend myself to your Lordships.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

20 November, 1502, 20th hour

P. S. — At last I have obtained the safe-conduct conformable to that of your Lordships, and send it herewith enclosed. I have had much difficulty in obtaining it without paying the chancelry, for they are not all like that of your Lordships. It is pretended that yours has been obtained gratis. Nevertheless it has been agreed . . . . . . Messer Alessandro Spannochi. If he decides that we ought to pay something, then the merchants of Florence must provide the means.

Iterum valete!

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Niccolo Machiavelli

22 November, 1502

Imola

LETTER XXVII.

Magnificent Signori: —

I wrote at length to your Lordships on the 20th, by the courier Carlo, in reply to yours of the 15th; and as matters here continue very much the same as when I last wrote, I shall be very brief in my present. The sum and substance of it is that the Duke is still here, and no one knows precisely when he is to leave. The troops are not marching towards Faenza, but there is no lack of the usual warlike preparations. The Swiss troops have not yet arrived, nor has the Signor Paolo Orsino made his appearance, and it is said that he is not coming by way of Florence, because he has not received the safe-conduct which he has asked for twenty-five crossbowmen. The treaty with Bologna has also not yet been definitely concluded, although Messer Giovanni here thought that it was. There always remains the difference of the old treaty, according  to which the said Messer Giovanni is obliged to pay annually the sum of nine thousand ducats to the Duke. Messer Giovanni believed that this obligation had been cancelled by the new treaty, but the Duke claims to understand that the clause remains in force; and thus the matter has been in suspense for three days past. Messer Giovanni Mino di Rossi arrived here this evening for the purpose of concluding the treaty according to the views of the Duke, if he cannot do so according to his own; how it will end I know not.

To-day I received your Lordships’ letter of the 19th in reply to mine of the 14th and 16th; I understand all you say respecting the obligation, etc., etc. I shall wait until I am spoken to on the subject, and will then advise you fully; nor have I sought another audience of the Duke, to explain to him again the reasons why your Lordships cannot entertain the idea of engaging him. For as I think that I know his character pretty well, I do not wish to weary him with a subject which he seems to understand, and which is calculated to exasperate rather than soothe him. And therefore I shall wait until I am spoken to in relation to these matters, which will be according as time may shape events, which are judged of here from day to day as they occur, rather than in any other way. I do not know yet whether it will be easy for me to obtain audience of the Duke, for he lives only to advance his own interests, or what seem to him such, and without placing confidence in any one else. I shall not therefore attempt to force matters unless I am obliged to do so; and after trying once or twice, I shall not try again. And although up to the present I have had no cause to complain, yet I do not wish to have occasion for doing so. Thus, taking all things into account, I desire much that your Lordships would recall me; for apart from my seeing that I can be of no use to our republic here, my bodily health has suffered very much. For two days I had a violent fever, and feel altogether very unwell. Moreover I have no one to look after my affairs at home, so that I lose on all sides. Thus taking everything into consideration I trust your Lordships will not refuse my request. A messenger from the Duke of Urbino has arrived here; it is said that he has come to ask for terms, but no one knows particulars.

Bene valete!

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Imola,

22 November, 1502

Niccolo Machiavelli

26 November, 1502

Imola

LETTER XXVIII.

Magnificent Signori: —

My last of the 22d was sent by Ugolino Martelli, having previously written you on the 20th in reply to your Lordships’ letter of the 15th. Since then I have nothing of interest to communicate, matters here remaining very much in the same condition as when I last wrote. For the Duke is still here, the Signor Paolo has not yet arrived, and various opinions prevail as to his coming. The treaty with Messer Giovanni Bentivogli is not yet concluded, owing to the difficulty about the old account of nine thousand ducats which Messer Giovanni was to pay the Duke within a given time. His Excellency wanted to convert this into a perpetual obligation, or into one single payment of forty thousand ducats, to be made within a few months. But Messer Giovanni will not listen to such a proposition, and wishes to terminate the annual payments in six or eight years. This dispute has been going on for four days, Messer Mino de Rossi being here as representative of Messer Giovanni, and I think from what I have heard this evening the Protonotario is expected here to-morrow. Some say that all this delay is caused by the Duke, who wishes to await the reply of Messer Romolino, whom he had sent to Rome with instructions to act in this matter only in accordance with the will of the Pope. Others give a much more sinister interpretation to the matter, notwithstanding that the most amicable relations seem to prevail between his Excellency the Duke and the Bolognese, and that there is a constant interchange of presents between them.

Many reasons are assigned for the delay in the Duke’s departure; some say that he does not wish to leave until he has concluded the agreement with the Bentivogli; others say that he is utterly without means, and is waiting for money from Rome. Others again say that it is because the Swiss have not yet arrived; although three days ago it was reported that they had passed Ferrara. But nothing certain is publicly known, though there are persons who claim to be well informed and who maintain that the Duke wants to be perfectly clear whether in going forward it will be either as the friend or the enemy of the Orsini, which, however, cannot be known until after the arrival of the Signor Paolo. Nor are there wanting  persons who say that the Duke leaves for the reasons which I have indicated to your Lordships in one of my previous letters.

I have informed your Lordships that an application has been made to the Duke for a safe-conduct for one of the Duke of Urbino’s confidential persons to come here. This personage arrived here four days ago, and has suddenly left again. It is publicly reported that the object of his coming was to negotiate the exchange of certain prisoners, which is all I have heard on the subject. A couple of days since an individual returned here from Urbino, who had been made prisoner at the time when that city was in revolt, and who left there on the 19th instant. This person reports that there is a good deal of alarm felt by the people of Urbino, notwithstanding their obstiuacy; and that the cause of their alarm is the treaty now being negotiated between the Duke and the Orsini. He relates, that, two days prior to his leaving Urbino, the Duke Guidobaldi called together first the citizens and afterwards the troops, of which there were not more than some four hundred infantry under the command of Giovanni di Rossetto and two other constables; that the Duke Guidobaldi had spoken to each of them in a different manner, although the same in substance, telling them that the treaty between the Orsini and the Duke Valentino was a sure thing, and that the negotiations between that Duke and Vitellozzo were also being urged forward, and that he feared a treaty would be concluded between them, upon which matters he wanted their advice. The citizens replied that they would die with him; the soldiers, after having examined what forces the Duke of Urbino could muster, assured him that they would hold Urbino and San Leo for him during the entire winter, even though the whole world should be against them. An order was accordingly published for the evacuation of all the castles and places in the duchy; and for all the garrisons to withdraw into the cities of Urbino and San Leo. Giovanni di Rossetto had sent one of his brothers with his wife and children to San Leo. The same person from Urbino spoke also of the readiness with which the Vitelleschi had declared themselves at first against the Duke Valentino, and how much harm they would have done him if the Signor Paolo Orsino had not held them back; and how six hundred of Vitellozzo’s infantry had routed the Duke’s forces at Fossombrone,  which forces consisted of one hundred men-at-arms and two hundred light cavalry, who all took to flight without having as much as put a lance in rest; — and that during the many days that they were in camp they had never seen a single penny in circulation. His Excellency the Duke has spent since the calends of October until now more than sixty thousand ducats, according to what his treasurer Alessandro has assured me not more than two days since. I take pleasure in writing this to your Lordships, so that you may see that, when others are in trouble, they spend no less than you do, nor are they any better served by their soldiers than what your Lordships are; whilst, on the contrary, he who is well armed with troops of his own will always have the same advantages whichever way things may turn.

That friend of mine whom I have mentioned before has said nothing to me touching the treaty that is about to be concluded between your Lordships and the Duke. I believe they are waiting to know the character of the instructions with which Messer Giovanni Vittorio proceeds to Rome; or rather they are awaiting the time when you shall have more need of them than at present; which I am sure your Lordships will make every effort to avoid.

I continue to pretend not to see anything, both because I have fulfilled your commission in opening the road you desired to follow, and because, not having any new propositions to make to them on your part, without which it would be difficult to accomplish anything here or at Rome. For having once made known their intentions, to which your Lordships did not agree, there is no way of making these people recede from them, except by presenting some new proposition to them; for to decline and then to remain silent would not suit men of this kind.

Your Lordships, I trust, will not charge me with presumption for having given you my opinion, seeing that in your letter of the 15th you inform me of your intention to contract an alliance with the Duke without delay. For had I not given you my views of matters as I understand them, particularly with my knowledge of the Duke’s character, I should feel that I had not done my duty.

Bene valete!

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Imola,

26 November, 1502

Niccolo Machiavelli

28 November, 1502

Imola

LETTER XXIX.

Magnificent Signori: —

My last of the 26th was sent by a messenger whom the Guglianos despatched for their private account. I had previously written on the 22d, and sent the letter by Ugolino Martelli, who was returning to Florence. Supposing that both these letters reached you safely, I shall not repeat their contents. By the present I desire to inform you that the Signor Paolo Orsino arrived here yesterday; and from what I hear he brought the treaty ratified and signed by Vitellozzo and the other confederates. He endeavors all he can to persuade the Duke that they are greatly indebted and entirely faithful to him, and willing to serve him in any enterprise on the same footing as any one else. His Excellency in return shows himself satisfied with it. Vitellozzo particularly has addressed most submissive letters to him, full of thanks and excuses and offers of service, saying that, if ever he has the chance of speaking to him face to face, he feels confident of being able to justify himself entirely, and to prove to him that what had occurred had never been done for the purpose of offending him, etc., etc.

His Excellency seems to accept it all, but no one knows what course he is going to take, for it is difficult to penetrate his designs and to know him. If we are to judge by the facts themselves, and by what the Duke himself or his first minister says, we cannot but augur ill for his adversaries; for the wrong done him has been great, and his language as well as that of others is full of indignation against the said Vitellozzo. It was only yesterday, whilst conversing on this subject with the first personage of the Duke’s court, this person said to me, “This traitor has given us a stab, and now thinks to heal the wound with words.” And as I was going on trying to find out which way the Duke inclined in this matter, and questioning this individual about it, who, as I have said, is one of the first personages of the court, he said to me: “We shall first march with this army towards Urbino, where we shall, however, not remain long, for we are fully persuaded that that city will put itself into our hands. Nor shall we go to Rimini, but shall move either to Perugia or Castello, according  as may seem best. We shall demand quarters for our troops in that city, the Duke being Gonfalonier of the Holy Church, and the city belonging to the Church; for the treaty does not specify that we are not to lodge with the army of the Pope wherever the Duke may choose. We shall then see what answer they will make to our demand, and govern ourselves accordingly.” Giving me to understand that upon this point an opportunity will not be wanting to judge that neither Vitellozzo nor Gianpaolo is to be trusted, these being the persons against whom the Duke is more incensed than against all the others.

Two days ago there came here the President of the chief court of judicature which the Duke has established in this state. His name is Messer Antonio del Monte a San Savino, and he is a most learned and virtuous man; his residence is at Cesena. On his arrival it was said that the Duke had caused him to come here for the purpose of sending him to Urbino as representative of the Holy Father to offer a pardon to the inhabitants of that city, and of all the other places, which is quite likely; for to-day his Excellency the Duke, the Signor Paolo, the said Messer Antonio, and Messer Agapito have been in conference together during the greater part of the day, for the purpose, it is said, of preparing the patents and the instructions according to which Messer Antonio is to proceed.

The Signor Paolo is to accompany him, for the purpose of withdrawing the men-at-arms that are in the territory of Fano, and to direct them towards Urbino. It is confidently expected that this reoccupation will be effected without the necessity of drawing a sword; it is moreover believed that Jacopo di Rossetto, who commands in San Leo, as I have mentioned in a former letter to your Lordships, and who, as everybody knows, is wholly devoted to Vitellozzo, has been placed there by the latter for no other purpose than to reconcile the Duke to him by the surrender of the place to his Excellency. It is furthermore said, that separate negotiations are being carried on with the Duke Guidobaldi to induce him to accept a cardinal’s hat, or some other equivalent compensation. The Signor Paolo demands money for himself, and for the other confederates, in consideration of the removal of the troops from Fano, and has been promised five thousand ducats within eight days from now.

The recovery of Camerino during the winter is considered, not as difficult, but as impossible. Nor is it believed that any time will be wasted in attempting it, if it cannot be effected by negotiation. And as with all these agreements and hopes, or rather certainties, of recovering these states without recourse to arms, none of the French troops are seen to return whence they came, but as it seems to be rather the Duke’s intention to go forward with the entire body of his troops as far as Rome, it is believed that the Duke’s object is either to settle a good many matters on the way, of which I have some corroborative proof, or perhaps that these French troops intend to pass into the kingdom of Naples to support their countrymen there. And although this idea has prevailed ever since the French have come here, yet it is regarded much more probable now, since it has become known that the Spaniards have received considerable reinforcements by way of Sicily. Upon this point, however, your Lordships will be able to have more certain information from Rome.

Yesterday the Duke concluded an arrangement with Bologna; the annual payment of nine thousand ducats, which was the cause of difference, has been reduced to five years; and the agreement would have been signed at once, but that the Bolognese had not the authority to do it. This authorization, however, has come this morning; but nothing has been done owing to the Duke’s being occupied with Signor Paolo and Messer Antonio del Monte in the matter mentioned above. I have been told that, after the arrival of Messer Romolino at Rome, the Pope had written to the Duke urging him to conclude the treaty with Bologna, with which he professed to be well pleased and satisfied. I will endeavor, so soon as it shall have been perfected, to have a copy of it, which I will send to your Lordships.

Those blessed Swiss that were to have been here have not yet made their appearance, which is all I have to tell your Lordships; though I must not omit mentioning that it is understood here, that if the Duke marches to Rome with his army, as it is supposed he will do, in such case he will follow his old practice of making the towns belonging to the Church that fall into his hands pay all his expenses; and that, amongst others, Ancona is particularly aimed at. It is said that the Florentine merchants have a large amount of goods  there; and as I do not know at what moment this army may appear before that city, which it is feared may be given up to pillage when the army does come, and be exposed to all sorts of other ills, I deem it my duty to bring this at once to your Lordships’ notice. I had a long conversation this morning on that subject with Messer Alessandro; and on asking him how we might secure any goods that our merchants may have in Ancona, he replied, that the only way would be to embark them at once and send them to Cesena or Rimini, and that when once the goods were in either of those places he would himself be responsible for their safety.

I have nothing more to say except to recommend myself ever so often to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Imola,

28 November, 1502

Niccolo Machiavelli

Morning of the 29th.

Morning of the 29th. —

A servant of the courier Carlo has just arrived, with your Lordships’ letter of the 26th. I note what you say respecting the ambassador who is to leave for Rome, and that I am to remain here; and the hopes which your Lordships entertain that the Duke will abandon his fixed views respecting his engagement. In relation to all these matters I shall conform strictly to your Lordships’ views; still it seems to me that, as I have nothing new to communicate to his Excellency, it would be better not to seek another audience of him, but to try and mature the matter with some of the influential persons around him, and to persuade and make them understand that they may in all respects rely upon your Lordships, provided they do not go beyond what is possible and reasonable. I shall wait, therefore, until some new proposition is made to me by them, and am firmly resolved not to act otherwise in this matter, unless your Lordships should give me special orders on this point. I note, moreover, what your Lordships tell me that you hear from Rome relative to the passage of the Duke into the kingdom of Naples. To this I reply, that I never heard that the Duke was to go in person, although a good deal has been said about the French going there, as I have stated in my preceding letter. For I endeavor as far as possible to learn the truth, and to inform your Lordships accordingly. I will detain your messenger no longer, so as not to keep your Lordships in suspense as to information  from here. But in my next you shall know all; in fact, I would write you every day, were it not for the difficulty of passing the mountains in consequence of the bad weather. On the other hand, unless some change takes place in the state of things, it would seem to me superfluous to incur an expense merely for the purpose of repeating the same thing to your Lordships.

It is now the eighteenth hour, and the Signor Paolo Orsini has just left with Messer Antonio del Monte, for the purpose which I have mentioned above. The Signor Paolo has received thirty-six hundred ducats.

Valete iterum, etc.

Respecting the Duke’s departure from here, it is said that he will leave some time this week, as I have before stated, and that he will go to Furli.

Niccolo Machiavelli

30 November, 1502

Imola

LETTER XXX.

Magnificent Signori: —

I wrote you yesterday by a son of your courier Carlo, and although I have not much to say now, yet having the opportunity of sending by a son of Messer Alessandro, treasurer, I would not miss this chance of giving you information of what is occurring here. Your Lordships will have learned from my letter of yesterday that Signor Paolo Orsino and Messer Antonio del Monte went yesterday to Urbino; but as yet we have no news of them, and are awaiting the results of their efforts. Those nearest the Duke say that he will not move from here until he shall know how to act with regard to Urbino; that is to say, whether he shall be obliged to employ force or not. All I know on this subject is that the Bishop of Cagli some days ago applied for a safe-conduct to come here. It was refused at first; but two days later it was granted, and he is expected here shortly.

I told your Lordships in my last that the treaty between Bologna and the Duke had been concluded, and that his Excellency was to receive a subsidy of nine thousand ducats for five years; and that nothing now was wanting but an order to the Bolognese. But since then letters have come from Rome,  brought by some one in the service of the Bentivogli, informing the Duke that it had been agreed between the Pope and the representative of Messer Giovanni Bentivogli, that the subvention was to continue for eight years, and was to be ten thousand ducats per annum.

It is said now that the Duke, seeing that the Pope had made a more advantageous arrangement both as to time and money, insists upon the terms made by the Pope, whilst Messer Giovanni claims to adhere to the terms made directly between him and the Duke. And thus matters become embroiled and delayed. No one knows whether this is accidental or intentional; all we can do is to wait and judge by the result; although the Bentivogli seem to think that matters are taking their natural course, and they are satisfied. I have in various ways endeavored to find out whether the Duke has any intention of going with his troops into the kingdom of Naples; but have not been able to learn anything certain on the subject. The opinion at court, however, has been, ever since the arrival of the French, that they would go to Naples after having finished matters here. I shall continue my efforts to ascertain the truth, and will keep you advised. All other matters here remain the same as when I last wrote; I have therefore nothing more to say, but recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Imola,

30 November, 1502

Niccolo Machiavelli

2 December, 1502

Imola

LETTER XXXI.

Magnificent Signori: —

My last was of the 30th ultimo, and before that I had written on the 28th and 29th. I have now to communicate to your Lordships that the articles of agreement between his Excellency the Duke and Messer Giovanni Bentivogli were, with the help of God, finally settled and concluded. I send this intelligence by an express messenger, believing it to be of great interest to your Lordships. For besides the other advantages which our republic will derive from it, there is one that is not to be esteemed lightly; namely, that the Duke begins  to show himself less disposed to follow his own caprices, and recognizes that everything will not yield to his good fortune. This will dispose him to listen more readily to any proposals your Lordships may choose to make to him. Although it was my duty to have sent you a copy of this treaty, yet it was impossible to obtain it this evening; and I therefore preferred to send you this information at once, rather than delay by waiting for a copy of the treaty. Various opinions prevail here as to the course which the Duke will now pursue in his affairs. For the matter with Bologna as well as that with the Orsini being settled, and there being hope also of terminating the Urbino business favorably, as we shall know by to-morrow what the Signor Paolo has effected by his visit there, nothing now remains in uncertainty except what the Duke is going to do with all the troops he has collected here; and whether the French in whole or in part will have to return to Lombardy or go to Naples; or indeed whether his Excellency, despite of all treaties, will have to keep them here for his security, especially against the Vitelli and the Baglioni. Upon this latter point I have never learned anything more than what I have several times written to your Lordships; namely, that on the one hand the Duke manifests an evil disposition towards them, and on the other hand I have heard from that same friend of mine, that, if the Duke were to go to Rome and remain there, he would find out the difference between the Jews and the Samaritans, as I have written you more in detail in my last.

As to the other point, whether the French are to go to Naples either with or without the Duke, I have done my utmost to find out something, but can learn nothing positive. From what I have heard, however, I am more inclined to say not than otherwise; for on my speaking to-day on that subject with the friend to whom I have several times referred, he told me that one of these Frenchmen had shown him a letter from Naples, from which it appears that the French have the upper hand there, and that consequently the presence of these troops was not needed there. Drawing that letter from his pocket, he gave it to me, and your Lordships will find a copy of it herewith enclosed. I can say nothing further on this subject; but by Tuesday we shall see which way this water will run, and which conjecture may prove to be the most correct;  for I judge from many indications that the Duke will leave here with all his troops within three or four days.

It is said that the first halt will be at Furli, and that then they will advance promptly from there. You will be better able to judge of this than from the reports that are now circulating here. And by way of giving your Lordships a better idea of the spirit that animates the Duke towards his late enemies, you must know that for the last eight days there has been a messenger here from Pandolfo Petrucci, and one from Gianpaolo Baglione, but neither of them has been able to obtain an audience from his Excellency, or has really any hope of it. A friend of mine told me that he had heard one of these gentlemen allege in justification of their case against the Duke, that they had wanted to make him king of Tuscany, but that he had not only declined the offer, but went and denounced it to his Majesty the king of France; and that this is the only thing that Vitellozzo complains of on the part of his Excellency.

I have again to inform your Lordships that there is no news from Urbino since the departure of the Signor Paolo Orsino and Messer Antonio del Monte; but by to-morrow something is expected from there, as I have already advised you. To-day it is reported at court that the people of Camerino have destroyed a castle in their neighborhood, belonging to the Church, and called San Severino.

I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Imola,

2 December, 1502

Please pay the bearer of this six lire. This letter should reach you at least by the 4th instant.

Copy of a letter from the Duc de Nemours to M. de Chaumont, dated 19 November, 1502, from the Kingdom of Naples, six leagues from Barletta.

My Lord Grand Master: —

I desire to inform you hereby that we are here within six leagues from Barletta, and that our friends have withdrawn compactly into the city, where they are fortifying themselves  without any seeming intention of leaving it. Know further that Alfonso da San Severo with one hundred men-at-arms which he had in the city in the service of Monsignore Gonsalvo Ferrante, has come and surrendered to us with his whole troop. It is true that the army of the king of Spain has effected a landing in Calabria, and has joined the other Spanish forces.

With all this our friends have not yet lost a single place or town that they had once taken. I have sent them fifty lances and six hundred infantry, and doubt not that when these reinforcements shall have joined them the enemy will retreat. I hope our king will appreciate how well his rights here have been guarded and defended by us, and that he will shortly see things go from good to better. You may communicate this good news to all subjects and servants of the king, and may God guard you, my Lord Grand Master, etc., etc.

Niccolo Machiavelli

2 December, 1502

Imola

LETTER XXXII.

Magnificent Signori: —

Since the information given in my accompanying letter, I have learned some particulars of the treaty concluded between the Bentivogli and his Excellency, which I think proper to communicate to you privately, having been so requested. The individual from whom I have them was willing that I should read the treaty, but would not allow me to take a copy. I can therefore give your Lordships only what I have been able to retain in my memory. Your Lordships know from my previous letters that one agreement was concluded here and another at Rome, which latter was more advantageous for the Duke than the other. The Roman agreement contains the following clauses, viz. —

Between his Excellency the Duke of Romagna, Prince of Squillacci and Biselli, of the one part, and the magnificent Regency of Bologna and Messer Giovanni Bentivogli and his sons of the other part, there has been concluded a true and perpetual peace. The contracting parties to have the same friends and the same enemies; and both parties obligate themselves mutually to sustain each other with arms and with all  the powers of their respective states, against all other powers, excepting the Pope Alexander VI. and the king of France.

Item. Messer Giovanni Bentivogli obligates himself to serve his Excellency the Duke of Romagna with one hundred men-at-arms and one hundred mounted bowmen for a term of six months within the year, to commence from the date of the final conclusion of this agreement, in such enterprises as the Duke may choose to engage in.

Item. The oldest son of Messer Annibale Bentivogli shall take for his wife the sister of the Bishop of Euna.

Item. The Pope promises to confirm to the city of Bologna and to Messer Giovanni Bentivogli all the conditions and privileges that have heretofore been granted to them by any of his predecessors.

Item. The Pope and the Duke promise that his Majesty the king of France, the Magnificient Signoria of Florence, and his Excellency the Duke of Ferrara, will guarantee the execution of this agreement on the part of the Duke of Romagna.

Item. The aforesaid Duke of Romagna engages to serve the city of Bologna with one hundred men-at-arms for a period of eight years consecutively, for which he is to be paid annually the sum of twelve thousand gold florins.

Such are in substance the conditions of this treaty, so far as I have been able to remember them from a single reading.

The terms agreed upon this evening conform in all respects to these, except that the pay for the one hundred men-at-arms for the period of eight years has been reduced by them to five years. The amount of pay for the other three years is to constitute the dowry of the Bishop of Euna’s sister; and Messer Giovanni hypothecates as security for this dowry all his possessions, in which the Duke insisted that his possessions in the Florentine states should be comprised. There is one article in that treaty which I had forgotten, namely, that the treaty itself should be kept entirely secret during the next three months, on account of the affairs of Urbino and Camerino. This is the reason why I could not have a copy of it, and why I write you this privately, in accordance with the request of him who showed it to me.

I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Imola,

2 December, 1502

Niccolo Machiavelli

6 December, 1502

Imola

LETTER XXXIII.

Magnificent Signori: —

Day before yesterday I received a letter from your Lordships in reply to several of mine. Having in my last, of the 2d, given your Lordships full account of the state of things here, and nothing new having occurred here since then, I have really nothing to write about. Nevertheless, so as not to keep your Lordships in suspense for want of letters, I deem it well to write the present. Having been ten days without attempting to speak with his Excellency the Duke, and the treaty between him and the Bentivogli having been concluded, I thought it well yesterday to seek an occasion to see the Duke, who promptly granted me an audience. Before I could say a word to his Excellency, he said to me: “I had the desire to speak to you some five or six days ago, for during his last visit here the Signor Paolo Orsino told me that your Signoria had sent two envoys to him at Urbino, to propose to him that, if he or his son would engage to serve the republic of Florence, they would make terms with him, provided he should accomplish some results to their advantage in the affair of Pisa. But that he had declined the proposition, although there was nothing to hinder him from accepting your Lordships’ offer of an engagement even to acting against his Excellency.”

I asked him whether the Signor Paolo had given him the names of the two envoys, and whether he had not shown him their letters of credence; or whether the said Signor Paolo had never in the past told him any lies. His Excellency replied that the letters had not been shown him, nor had the Signor Paolo told him who the two were; but as to lies, Signor Paolo had told him plenty. And thus the matter ended in a laugh, although at first the Duke spoke in an angry manner, showing that he believed what Signor Paolo had told him, and regretted it. It seems to me that it would not be amiss if your Lordships were to write me something on the subject, so that I might show it to his Excellency. We conversed afterwards for a full hour on various matters, which it would be superfluous to report to you, as they were of no importance. I will only mention that I infer in substance from what his Excellency said, that he is still of the same mind as to contracting an alliance with your  Lordships and maintaining it; and that he would never himself do anything adverse to you, nor permit others to do so. For he regarded any weakness or diminution of your power the same as a diminution of his own. At the same time, he intimated to me that he was disposed to a certain extent to accept your propositions, if you declined to agree to his. He did not say this clearly in so many words, but I thought I could gather as much from his remarks. And although I tried to find out his real sentiments, yet I did not succeed, as I could not answer him except in general terms. We then spoke of the conduct of the Venetians, and how they had kept up intelligence with Rimini through a citizen of Venice, who lived there, and whom he had caused to be hanged to save their honor. He told me of the fears they had conceived on seeing his army collected there, and of the honors they had shown to an agent of his whom he had sent to Venice to buy some guns, honors such as were entirely unusual on their part, and undeserved on the part of the agent. He then spoke of the affairs of Pisa, and of the vigorous attack which your Lordships had made upon that city, and he expressed the opinion that its capture would be the most glorious achievement that any captain could accomplish. From that the Duke suddenly turned the conversation upon Lucca, saying that it was a rich city, and a fine morsel for a gormand; and thus we passed considerable time with similar conversation.

His Excellency said, furthermore, that he had been very glad to conclude the treaty with the Bentivogli; that he wanted to act towards them as a brother, and that God himself had had a hand in bringing about that treaty; for at the beginning he had entered upon that negotiation not at all as a serious matter, but that afterwards all at once the Pope had disposed him favorably to it, and that he then consented to it with as much satisfaction as possible. He added, that if your Lordships, Ferrara, and Bologna, and himself, were to go together, then he would have nothing to fear from anybody: first, because the king of France is the common friend of all the parties, and so long as he remained in Italy he would protect them or increase their power; and secondly, because even if the king should experience some reverses, his alliance with them would afford him such support at all times that no one would presume to raise a hand against it.

The Duke told me that the stipulations of the treaty provided that his Majesty the king, your Lordships, and the Duke of Ferrara guaranteed the faithful observance of the treaty by each of the contracting parties; and that he believed your Lordships would not refuse. I replied, that I could not speak positively, but I believed that, whenever it was a question of peace and tranquillity, your Lordships would always lend your ready concurrence; and more especially when associated in the matter with the king of France.

I asked his Excellency whether there was anything new from Urbino, and what he intended to do with his army, and whether it was his purpose to dismiss the French lances. He replied, that he had letters yesterday informing him that the Signor Paolo and Messer Antonio del Monte were at a castle about five miles from Urbino, and had requested the Duke Guido to join them there; which, however, he had not done as yet, having been prevented by an attack of gout, and that they had therefore resolved to go to him; also, that the inhabitants of Penna a San Marino had sent a deputation to the said Signor Paolo to make terms with him; and that as regards himself he contemplated withdrawing within three days from here, and moving as far as Cesena with all his army, and he would then act as circumstances might require. He said further, that for the present he would not dismiss a single Frenchman; but that when once he had settled his affairs he would retain no more than two hundred to two hundred and fifty lances, for these troops were really insupportable and destructive to the country; adding, that where he had intended to have only about four hundred and fifty French lances, he had more than six hundred, because all those that Monseigneur de Chaumont had with him at Parma had come to him in small detachments, having understood, as they said, that here “we lived by the grace of God.” After some further conversation of this sort I took my leave of his Excellency, and have really nothing further to write to your Lordships about the state of things here; for, as I said at the beginning of my letter, matters remain here much as when I last wrote you. We have the same troops here, and still expect to start from one day to another; and your Lordships see what the Duke himself has told me as to the course he intends to pursue. I hear nothing different from private sources, and to guess is difficult.

Not knowing when the goods of our merchants are to leave Ancona, or where they are to go, I can think of no way of facilitating the matter. I recommend myself to your Lordships, and beg you will grant my recall, and thus at the same time save the public treasury the expense, and myself the discomforts which I experience. For since the last twelve days I find myself really sick; and if I go on thus, I fear I shall be brought home in my coffin.

Have the goodness to direct the bearer of this to be paid one gold scudo, for he has promised to be in Florence to-morrow before three o’clock.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Imola,

6 December, 1502

Niccolo Machiavelli

6 December, 1502

Imola

LETTER XXXIV.

Magnificent Signori: —

Since writing you at length, the Duke’s master of horse came to me and complained very much that a number of horses belonging to the Duke had been stolen in the mountains of San Benedetto. I cannot tell you how much, he said, the Duke felt aggrieved at this, which has incensed him more than if he had lost one of his towns. He has requested me to write to your Lordships to take measures to have these horses restored to him, and to ask you to send some one into these mountains to make a demonstration against those who committed this wrong. I have done my best to excuse this affair, but cannot placate the Duke, it being a matter to which he attaches much importance. I therefore beg your Lordships again to take measures for the prompt restitution of these horses, and to endeavor to justify the whole, so that your merchants may not have to suffer in consequence, even if no other damage should result from it.

I recommend myself to your Lordships, etc., etc.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Imola,

6 December, 1502

Niccolo Machiavelli

December 9, 1502

LETTER XXXV.

Magnificent Signori: —

My last letters were of the 2d and 6th, sent per post at a charge of one florin for each; and although I have as yet no reply, still I cannot doubt but they have safely reached you. By the present I am enabled to inform your Lordships that we had the news yesterday evening that Paolo Orsino had settled the Urbino business, and that the entire duchy had placed itself voluntarily in the hands of his Excellency the Duke. Also that the Duke Guido had gone to Castello, and was trying to have some allowance made to him by his Excellency. For this reason San Leo has not yet come to terms, but remains waiting at the instance of the said Duke Guido. I understand that they want him to renounce the marriage and accept a cardinal’s hat instead, which he declines, saying that he will be satisfied with a pension that will enable him to live. A number of troops have left this morning and have gone in the direction of Furli, and to-morrow, it is said, the Duke will set out, taking with him all the French and his other troops. We shall see what will happen.

The same friend to whom I have several times referred in my letters has repeatedly expressed his surprise to me, within the past few days, that your Lordships do not come to some arrangement with the Duke, the present being as favorable a moment for it perhaps as you could possibly desire. I told him in reply that I was myself better disposed to do so now than I had been, for it had seemed to me that at the last conversation I had with the Duke he was less determined with regard to a military engagement by our republic; and that if this be really so and he was disposed to have as much regard for the interests of Florence as for his own, he would always be met half-way by your Lordships, as I had already told his Excellency ever so often. To this my friend answered, “I have told you on former occasions that in such an engagement there was both honor and profit for the Duke; yet that he cared nothing for the profit, but attached much importance to the honor of it; and that, if you could gratify him on that point, an arrangement could very readily be concluded.” He told me furthermore that an envoy had arrived from Pisa and had sought to have an audience  of the Duke, who at first determined not to grant it, but that, upon reflection, he had concluded that there could be no harm in hearing this envoy, and that he would inform me of the result. It is three days now since my friend told me this, and although I have asked him several times on the subject, he has always answered that he had not yet spoken to the Duke, and that his occupations had prevented him from finding out what this envoy wanted of the Duke. I asked him again this evening, and he said that the envoy had been sent back without having spoken to the Duke. From another source, however, I learn that this envoy was Lorenzo d’ Acconcio, that he has had two interviews with his Excellency, and that the object of his mission was to inform the Duke that the king of Spain had sent a messenger to offer his assistance to the Pisans, and that these were disposed to accept the offer unless they could find a defender nearer by, as they could no longer remain in the position in which they were, and that therefore they had offered themselves to the Duke; that his Excellency replied to this proposition in general terms, and told the Pisan envoy to follow him to Cesena, etc., etc.

Now I do not know which of these two stories to believe, and submit the matter to your Lordships’ own good judgment. This much I do know, that both one and the other of the persons from whom I have this information are in a position most easily to know the truth. It is reported here that Cascina has been taken from you by surprise some ten days ago; and yesterday I was told by one of my friends that when this news was received at the house of Bianchino of Pisa, where the Pisans generally congregate, one of them immediately said that he believed it to be true, because orders had been given one day to the Pisan horse to show themselves near Cascina. And when the garrison of the place made a sortie to encounter the Pisan horse, there being but a feeble guard left within, the peasants and their women had risen and taken the place. I mention this to your Lordships, so that even if it were true you might advise the commissary of it.

I recommend myself to your Lordships.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

December 9, 1502

Niccolo Machiavelli

10 December, 1502

Imola

LETTER XXXVI.

Magnificent Signori: —

I wrote the accompanying yesterday, and being anxious to send it off to your Lordships I offered a reward of two ducats, but could find no one to take it owing to the extremely bad weather. For the last four days it has snowed incessantly, and for that reason no one can be found willing to attempt to cross the Apennines. I beg your Lordships therefore to hold me excused, for despite of my unremitting efforts I cannot find any one to carry these letters. It remains for me to inform your Lordships that the Duke set out this morning with all his forces, and has taken the direction of Furli. He will stop this evening at Oriolo Secco, and to-morrow night at Cesena. What the Duke will do after that is not known, nor does any one here venture to guess at it; for the Urbino business is settled, and the agreement between the Orsini and the Bentivogli concluded. And yet the Duke does not dismiss a single French lance, but they all march with him in the direction I have indicated to your Lordships.

Large sums of money arrived here yesterday from Milan, having been sent by the king to pay the French lances. I do not know the amount, but they say there are six loads of silver coin. Francesco della Casa will be able to give your Lordships more correct accounts. Besides this, his Excellency expects twelve thousand ducats from Florence, ten thousand from Bologna, and three thousand from Venice. And a certain Messer Gabriello of Bergamo, who is here, tells me that he has orders to pay the Duke in addition ten thousand ducats within ten days. I leave these matters for the interpretation of your Lordships, who, having information from all parts, will be able to form the best judgment.

I purpose leaving here to-morrow to follow his Excellency’s court, but I do not go with a good will, for I am by no means well, and, apart from my indisposition, I have but seven ducats left in my purse; and when I shall have expended these, then I shall be reduced to necessity. I have received in all from your Lordships fifty-five ducats, and have already expended sixty-two; I therefore beg your Lordships to supply me with funds.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Imola,

10 December, 1502

Niccolo Machiavelli

14 December, 1502

Cesena

LETTER XXXVII.

Magnificent Signori: —

I left Imola on the morning of the 11th, and passed the night at Castrocaro, where I remained the whole of the 12th. The next morning I left there, and arrived here at Cesena the same evening, thinking it best to delay one day joining the court, so as to have a better chance for lodgings. Although I have nothing new to communicate by the present letter, having written on the 9th and 10th, yet I thought it best to write, so as not to keep your Lordships in suspense as to matters here. In my last I informed you that the entire duchy of Urbino, with the exception of San Leo, had placed itself voluntarily in the hands of the Duke. The Duke Guido, who retains San Leo, has gone to Citta di Castello, in the expectation of being able in this way to obtain better terms for himself from his Excellency. I have heard nothing further on the subject, but negotiations are going on in relation to it; but how and on what terms matters will be settled, I know not, but shall endeavor to find out, and will then fully advise your Lordships. Negotiations for an arrangement with the people of Camerino are also being carried on, and I hear from a good source that an understanding has been arrived at.

His Excellency the Duke, as I have said, is here with all the French troops and his own, excepting those who have been the whole year at Pesaro, and who have not moved from there. The Duke and the troops are lodged in the city and its vicinity, and live at discretion; that is to say, according to their own pleasure, and not according to that of the persons who lodge them. Your Lordships may imagine how things go on here, and how they went on at Imola, where the court remained three months, and the whole army two months, and where they consumed everything to the very stones. Certainly that city and the whole country have given proof of their patience, and of how much they are able to bear. I mention this to your Lordships, so that you may know that the French as well as the other troops do not act any differently in Romagna from what they did in Tuscany; and that there is neither more order nor less confusion here than there has been wherever these troops have been, etc.

As I have written before to your Lordships, all those who reason on the subject know not what to think of the Duke’s intentions, he having come here with his troops, and, notwithstanding all the treaties of peace and the recovery of his possessions, not having dismissed a single one of the French troops. After looking at the matter from all sides, they come to the conclusion that the Duke can have no other object than to make sure of those who have subjected him to these wrongs, and who have come within a hair of depriving him of his states. And although the treaties of peace would seem to oppose this conclusion, yet the example of the past would make those of less consequence. I am myself much inclined to this opinion, from the evidence which I have constantly had, and which your Lordships will remember in my letters. And this is still further corroborated by what I wrote you in my letter of the 10th respecting the Savelli.

Nevertheless, there are some who say the Duke is going to Ravenna or Cervia. The Venetians are in great apprehension on that account, and those who come from there say that the Rectors personally visit the guards at night, which are posted the same as if an enemy were at the very gates. With all this, no one believes it, judging that the Duke would not attempt anything against the Venetians unless the king of France were at the same time to attack them in Lombardy; and as no orders of that kind have been heard of there, the other is not believed. And thus, after indulging in a variety of speculations, people here have generally concluded to leave the development of the matter to time, rather than weary themselves with idle conjectures.

I have written to your Lordships what is said on the subject of the Duke’s taking his troops to the kingdom of Naples or otherwise, and I repeat now that the matter is no longer much talked about here. It is true the Duke’s courtiers say that, when he shall have re-established order in Urbino and in Camerino, he intends going to Rome; and that he will start from here after Christmas. But those who are of the opinion that he means anyhow to assure himself of his enemies say that it is very likely that he will start for Rome, but stop on the way to settle matters in his own fashion. We shall see what will come of it. Meantime I shall do my duty in keeping your Lordships advised whilst I remain here, which, however,  I do not believe will be much longer; first, because I have only four ducats left in my purse, as my steward knows, who is bearer of this letter, and will give your Lordships full account of my condition and my expenditures; and secondly, because my remaining here is of no further use. And I beg to tell your Lordships, in the same spirit of loyalty with which I have ever served you, that it will be much more advantageous for the conclusion of whatever arrangement you may have to make with the Duke, to send some one of distinguished reputation here rather than to Rome. The reason is this. In the proposed alliance you have to satisfy the Duke, and not the Pope; for whatever terms might be concluded with the latter may be rejected by the former. But whatever may be concluded with the Duke will never be refused by the Pope, unless the Duke himself should see that some advantage could be gained by it; as in the case of the Bolognese treaty. And as it is hazardous to negotiate on the same subject in two places at once, it will be better to have this matter negotiated here rather than at Rome.

I have neither been charged with that mission, nor am I well qualified for it. It should be a man of more eloquence and greater reputation, and one who understands the world better than I do. And therefore I have always been of the opinion that it would be well to send an ambassador here, which would have more influence with the Duke in all matters that have to be negotiated with him than any other means that could be employed. Everybody here is of the same opinion. It is true he should not come here with incomplete notions, but rather with resolute views upon certain points; and thus matters would doubtless be arranged, and that promptly. I have until now ever done my duty to the utmost of my ability, and shall not fail to continue to do so; for even if much time has been wasted in the past, yet all is not lost.

Your Lordships, I trust, will receive this in the spirit in which I write it, and I beg most humbly that you will provide me with funds, and grant my recall.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Cesena,

14 December, 1502

P. S. — One of the first gentlemen of the Duke’s court has requested me, on behalf of his Excellency, to recommend to  your Lordships Messer Bartolommeo Marcelli of the Borgo San Sepolcro, who is one of those who, by summons of the Five Deputies, were to appear before them from the 1st to the 10th instant. He says that he received the notification only on the 8th. He is a man of seventy-two years of age, and being here would have had to make seventy miles in two days, which it was impossible for him to do, the mountains being covered with snow, and with daylight only during seven hours; and therefore he claims indulgence. He is ready to obey the summons and prove his innocence if time be allowed him. I have been requested, therefore, to solicit your Lordships to grant him a delay, and to give him at least five or six days’ notice to appear, and he will promptly obey. I add my prayers to your Lordships, who are most urgently requested to that effect by his Excellency the Duke; and believing it proper to bring this matter to your notice, I hope for a favorable reply.

Your Lordships will please have the bearer of this paid one gold florin for his trouble.

Niccolo Machiavelli

18 December, 1502

Cesena

LETTER XXXVIII.

Magnificent Signori: —

I write to acknowledge your three letters of the 8th, 10th, and 13th instant, although I have not much to say in reply, your Lordships’ letters having been mainly replies to several of mine. But as your letters contain an explanation of what I had written you that Paolo Orsino had said to his Excellency the Duke, and as you manifest therein your good intentions of forming a closer alliance with his Excellency, and tell at the same time how much the Pope was pleased at your having sent an embassy to him; and as you moreover enter into some particulars, etc., etc.; it seemed to me well to ask for an audience of his Excellency, which, however, I could not obtain until yesterday evening at the fourth hour.

Deeming it advisable to communicate to his Excellency a portion of your letters, I read to him all those parts that relate to the above-named subjects. His Excellency listened very cheerfully to it all, and then expressed himself in the highest degree satisfied with what your Lordships write respecting  Paolo Orsino. And upon the other points he repeated what he had already told me several times; namely, that he was anxious for an alliance with your Lordships, and that the closer it was, the more importance he attached to it, and the more agreeable would it be to him; and that he was the more ready to treat with you as he saw that his Holiness the Pope was most favorably disposed towards your Lordships; saying that he had lately had letters from his Holiness, in which he manifested not only a great desire to have the matter closed, but also such an affection for your Lordships that you could not wish it greater yourselves. His Excellency added, that he was more than ever pleased at this, for he saw in it the means for giving the strongest possible foundation to his power; and that with such a union between your Lordships, himself, and Ferrara, Mantua, and Bologna, neither himself nor any of the others would or could have anything to fear. That he entered into such a union with the more readiness, as it seemed to him to be his own act; and that he did it with all the frankness and sincerity that could be asked of a royal prince. That he remembered having told me that, when he was able to do but little, he had neither boasted nor promised anything, but had reserved his action until his state should be securely established; and that then he had made large offers to your Lordships. And that now since he had recovered Urbino, and that Camerino was at his disposal, and that without the Vitelli and the Orsini he found himself with ten thousand horse at his orders, he thought he could afford to promise largely; that therefore he placed all his forces at your service in case it should happen that you were assailed, and that he should not wait to be called, but would then prove by his acts what he to-day promised in words.

I fear, O Magnificent Signori, lest your Lordships may think that I put these words into the mouth of the Duke; for I myself, who heard him, and noted his very words and the terms which his Excellency employed in saying these things, and observed the gesticulations with which he accompanied them, can scarcely believe it. But I deem it my duty to write these things to your Lordships, as it is yours to judge of them and to think it well that I should tell you of it, but that it will be still better not to have occasion to put him to the proof. I thanked his Excellency on behalf of your Lordships in such terms as  seemed to me proper, telling him how much importance your Lordships attached to his friendship and to his offers, etc., etc.

Turning suddenly to another subject, the Duke said to me: “You are not aware that a citizen of Pisa has arrived here, and has for several days past solicited an audience of me, which I have not yet granted him. In my endeavors to find out what he wants, I learn that he has come to inform me that the king of Spain had offered them his assistance, and that they were for accepting it, unless others were willing to aid them. I purpose giving this emissary an audience now, and he is for that purpose in the adjoining room. I do not want you to leave, for so soon as I shall have heard what he has to say, I will report it all to you.” After thanking his Excellency I withdrew, and thereupon the Pisan entered, and remained with the Duke about a quarter of an hour. When the Duke had dismissed him, he called me back and told me that “the Pisan had informed him that he had come on behalf of ‘The Ancients’ of Pisa; that the king of Spain had sent them word that hewas ready to supply them whatever quantity of grain they might want, and as much infantry and cavalry as they might need for their defence, on condition that they would promise to place themselves at his disposal and be his friends; that they would be obliged to accept these conditions unless they could be assured that help would come to them from some other quarter. And therefore they had sent him to his Excellency to make their excuse to him for whatever course they might take.” The Duke told me that he had replied by advising them to consider well what they did, and upon what course they entered. For they must see that the Italians were all French in sentiment; that the king of France was all powerful in Italy, and an enemy of the king of Spain; so that, if they were to ally themselves with Spain, they would find that they made enemies of all those who until now had sustained them. That all at once they would have the knife at their throat; for one of these fine mornings the king of France and his adherents would be under their walls, and that he himself would fly to besiege them, at the slightest word from the king.And therefore he advised them as a friend to remain as they were, and to preserve the friendship of the king of France, and to conform to his will, as he was the only one from whom they had anything to hope.

The Duke said that the Pisan envoy remained confounded, and could make no answer, except that they could exist no longer in the condition in which they were. His Excellency told me further, that he had replied to the Pisan envoy in the manner he did because he thought it would be believed by the Pisans, and would be of advantage to your Lordships. For in advising them to rely upon France, which was your friend, it was the same thing as advising them to rely upon you, without naming you, so as not to exasperate them still more. Moreover, he thought it would be beneficial to you to remove from your vicinity a war such as this might become. And in fact he thought that he ought to do anything to prevent the Pisans from committing such a folly, although he had some doubts whether he should succeed, seeing the state of desperation the Pisans were in. To all this the Duke added, that for the present he had answered them in this wise, but that in future he would shape his replies according to your Lordships’ instructions. I thanked his Excellency for this communication, saying that his reply to the Pisans seemed to me in all respects most prudent and well considered; that it was not for me to tell his Excellency how to act in this matter, for he well knew how much your Lordships had Pisa at heart; and that he knew also the condition of the other Italian affairs, which he would have to weigh in all his replies and in the negotiations which his Excellency might have occasion to have with the Pisans. I also told the Duke that I would write to your Lordships, and in case of my receiving any instructions on the subject I would at once communicate them to him.

Your Lordships will remember my having told you in a former letter that I had received different accounts of this negotiation, and how according to the one version the Pisan envoy had not yet spoken to the Duke, whilst according to the other he had had two interviews with him. For this reason I wished, before closing this letter, to speak again with both theparties who had made these statements to me, so as to see what I could learn from one and the other. I have, however, not yet been able to do so, but will endeavor to supply this deficiency in my next.

The affairs of Urbino remain in the same condition as when I last wrote; and of Camerino I know nothing but what the Duke told me, and which I have already mentioned to you; and  which amounts to this, that the city is at the Duke’s disposal. His Excellency has sent orders for the artillery, which is at Furli, to be brought here. He gives money freely to the infantry and to the men-at-arms; and it is said that within a week he will break up his camp here and move by slow marches to Sinigaglia. Four days ago it was reported here that the French had experienced a complete rout in the kingdom of Naples; but the Duke told me yesterday that it had been merely an unimportant affair. Your Lordships are in a position to have more reliable intelligence.

I have endeavored to ascertain how the obligation should be drawn which your Lordships have to execute to the king of France and the Duke of Ferrara with regard to the treaty concluded with Bologna. A certain Messer Giovanpaolo, secretary of the Bentivogli, has told me that the treaty provided that his Excellency the Duke obligates himself, within two months after the ratification of the treaty, to bring about that his Majesty the king of France, the Duke of Ferrara, and the Illustrious Signoria of Florence shall guarantee the strict observance of the peace. And it seems that, as the Duke has to ask for this guaranty, the obligation has to be given for the Duke only. The above-named secretary seems to be of the same opinion; still, if the words of the treaty are as above stated, then they are liable to a different interpretation. But as yet the demand has not been made upon your Lordships; for since the ratification of the treaty, the question as to the dowry which the sister of Monseigneur d’Euna is to have has not yet been settled; this matter, however, is to be taken in hand to-day.

By your letter of the 8th your Lordships recommend to me again the case of Salvetto di Buosi, and I mentioned it to the Duke yesterday evening. After a good deal of discussion he came to the conclusion that he would save Salvetto’s life, contrary to the will of the Naldi family; but that he will not liberate him in opposition to them, for it did not seem to him wise for the benefit of one person to offend four; and that it would be a great satisfaction to him if Dionisio would content himself with that, as he could not do any more.

I recommend myself to your Lordships, and beg again that you will furnish me the means of support; I have here at my charge three servants and three horses, and cannot live upon  promises. I began yesterday to run into debt; having spent seventy ducats up to the present time. You may ask the bailiff Niccolo Grillo about it, as he has been here with me. I might have my expenses paid by the court here, and may still have it done, but I do not wish that; and have not availed myself of that privilege hitherto, for it seemed to me for your Lordships’ honor and my own not to do it. But your Lordships must know whether I can with a good will go about asking for three ducats here, and for four of some one else.

Bene valete!

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Cesena,

18 December, 1502

P. S. — Your Lordships know that when I obtained the safe-conduct from his Excellency, a few weeks ago, I had to promise to give to the Chancelry whatever Messer Alessandro Spannochi might deem proper; and it is certainly no pleasure for me to allege anything against the fulfilment of that promise. Now the clerks of the Chancelry are every day at my heels, and I owe them yet sixteen yards of damask. I beg your Lordships will have this provided for me through the merchants; for if I do not satisfy these clerks of the Chancelry, I shall nevermore be able to expedite anything through them, and especially confidential matters; for they manage all these things without any reference to the Duke. And, moreover, by sending this damask, your Lordships will relieve me of an obligation which I have contracted here. And thus I recommend myself specially in this matter to your Lordships.

Iterum valete!

Niccolo Machiavelli

19 December, 1502

Cesena

LETTER XXXIX.

Magnificent Signori: —

Yesterday, whilst conversing with his Excellency the Duke, Messer Agapito, his first secretary, came up to me and begged me to write to your Lordships, and ask you to be pleased to bring it about that Messer Lodovico Archilegio da Amelia should be chosen as judge of the wool guild. His Excellency the Duke added that your doing so would give him particular  pleasure; that, however, he did not wish to write you specially about it, but relied entirely upon me; and that if the election had already been made, then he could wish that at the next election the choice might fall upon Messer Lodovico. I could not tell your Lordships with what warmth I have been urged in this matter both by the Duke and his secretary. I await your reply.

The Baron de Bierra, at his departure from here, has recommended to me the father of Camillo del Borgo, who is one of the number that have been summoned to appear before the five magistrates, saying that he will appear, provided they will allow him the time necessary to come, seeing that he is seventy-two years old and is here at Cesena. The said Baron has written the enclosed to your Lordships in relation to this matter, and I recommend him on his behalf to your Lordships, and myself likewise.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Cesena,

19 December, 1502

Niccolo Machiavelli

20 December, 1502

Cesena

LETTER XL.

Magnificent Signori: —

I wrote to your Lordships day before yesterday, and sent it by a servant of Antonio da Sesto. By the present I desire to inform you that, whilst at court this evening, I saw all the French captains come in a body to his Excellency the Duke. Before entering, they held a council amongst themselves; and in observing their movements and gesticulations, they seemed to me to be much excited. And thinking that there might possibly be some news of importance, I went, so soon as they had left, to the Baron de Bierra for the purpose of learning the facts; pretending that I came to see him on behalf of your Lordships, and saying that I had received particular instructions to do so. After thanking me, the Baron drew me aside and said: “We are to leave here in two or three days to return to the duchy of Milan, having received orders to that effect to-day.” And when I asked him for what object, he said, “That he did not know, but that all the French had to leave, and had to retrace their steps; and that they would  certainly start on the day after to-morrow.” I then asked him whether Monseigneur de Vanne, son of Monseigneur de Lebret, would also leave with his troops. To which he replied, “That he did not know what this gentleman would do, but that all the others with all their companies would leave without fail.” He told me that I might communicate this to your Lordships as positive, and also that sufficient money had been received at Milan to pay the fifteen thousand infantry that would be collected there within a month’s time. This unexpected order, so far as I could judge by their gesticulations, has turned the heads of all the court. When it shall become publicly known, I shall be able to write you more in detail as to what is going on here; but at present, knowing neither the cause nor the origin of the movement, I am not able to form a correct judgment of it. Your Lordships, however, will have obtained information from other sources, and will therefore be better able to appreciate it. And although I believe that your Lordships will have heard from Lombardy, yet I deem it well to send you this by an express, who will, however, not start until to-morrow morning, owing to the insecurity of the country, but has promised to be at Florence by day after to-morrow.

Monseigneur de Bierra told me in a conversation I had with him, that he and the other captains of the French mounted forces had resolved not to march anywhere unless they have the infantry with them, as otherwise it would not be safe for them to go. The reason for this, I think, is that they have received some offence from the people of the country, which they have not been able to resent as they could have wished. I would not omit mentioning this to your Lordships, as Monseigneur de Bierra’s remark seemed to me worthy of notice.

The artillery, which previous to this news had been ordered to Fano, has all been brought here. I know not what may happen next, for this new move will necessarily give rise to new plans. Since these troops have come here certain castles of the Bishop of Ravenna have been sacked; in all temporal matters, however, these castles are subject to Cesena. This act has been attributed to the fact that the Bishop had encouraged the revolt of Urbino.

I have nothing else to write, except to recommend myself to your Lordships.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Cesena,

20 December, 1502,

at the
4th hour of night.

Please have the bearer of this paid one gold florin.

Niccolo Machiavelli

23 December, 1502

LETTER XLI.

Magnificent Signori: —

Yesterday morning I received your last letter of the 17th by way of Bagno, and fully comprehend your instructions. There seems to me to be no reason for apprehendinginjury to either one or the other place belonging to Florence on account of those who have taken refuge there; for in my opinion it would require causes of greater gravity to warrant an attack on our territory. I should regard it, nevertheless, as an act of prudence that these people should withdraw further into the interior of our dominions, and have written to that effect to the captain. Should anything come to my knowledge that would cause me any doubts upon that point, I shall advise your Lordships, but more than that I do not believe I can do.

I presume your Lordships to have received all the letters I have written since coming to Cesena; the first was of the 14th, sent by the courier Grillo; the other, of the 18th, I sent by a son of Antonio d’ Assetto, who was returning to Florence; and the last, of the 20th, was sent express by one of the shoemakers’ guild. By the first two I wrote to your Lordships what I had learned of the condition of things here; also, the conversation I had with the Duke, chiefly in relation to Pisan affairs. In mine of the 20th, I informed you of the unexpected departure of the French. They left yesterday in the direction of Bologna, halting about three miles from here, and passing the night at Castello Bolognese, so as to reach the Bolognese territory the next evening. There are in all about 450 lances. This sudden and unexpected departure has been the subject of general conversation, and every one forms his own conjectures about it. I have done my best to find out the truth of the  matter, but it is impossible to obtain any correct information. I have written you what the Baron de Bierra told me; and since then have conversed with M. de Montison, who told me that the French troops had left out of regard for the country and the Duke, who had no further occasion for them; and that the country was becoming hostile to him on account of being overburdened by so many troops. The principal personages of the court tell me that the Duke could no longer support these troops, and that the further retaining them would cause him more annoyance from his friends than from his enemies; and that even without them the Duke would still have troops enough to enable him to undertake anything he might be disposed to.

Not wishing to leave anything undone to obtain correct information, I went to see that friend of mine, whom I have several times mentioned to your Lordships, so soon as the news of the departure of the French became known. I told him that, having heard of that departure, which seemed to me very sudden, and not knowing whether it was by order of the Duke or contrary to his wishes, I deemed it my duty to let his Excellency understand that I was ready to conform to his desires as to the manner in which he might wish me to present this matter to your Lordships. He replied that he would very cheerfully undertake that commission. When I saw him again, he told me that he had spoken to the Duke about the matter, and that he was much pleased at my having suggested this to him, and that, after a few moments of reflection, his Excellency had said to him: “Tell the secretary we thank him, but that for the present there is no occasion for his doing anything in the matter; but whenever there is, we will send for him.” And thus I lost the desired opportunity of speaking with his Excellency, and learning from him something more positive in relation to this matter. And this is all I am able to tell you. I am sure your Lordships’ wisdom, and the advices you have from other sources of which I am ignorant, will enable you to form a correct judgment of this affair. Those who speak of it here say, that the departure of the French troops is due to one of two causes; namely, either because the king of France has need of them himself in Lombardy, or because his Majesty is dissatisfied with the Pope, as some cloud has arisen between them. Be this as it may, the French troops have gone from  here, neither well satisfied nor well disposed towards the Duke; but in view of their character, this is of little consequence.

What the Duke may now intend or be able to do, no one knows; but thus far there is no change in his plans. The artillery has gone in advance, and yesterday there arrived here six hundred infantry from the Val di Lamona, and one thousand Swiss, part of those that have been so long expected, are at Faenza. Previous to this the Duke had already fifteen hundred Swiss, Germans, and Gascons in all.

It is still said that after the holidays he will start for Pisa. On the other hand, he has lost more than half of his forces and two thirds of his reputation; and the opinion prevails that he will not be able to do much of what he at first boasted he would do, and which it was believed he could accomplish. San Leo is in the hands of the Duke Guido, and the other fortresses in the duchy of Urbino are razed to the ground. Camerino, which the Duke said was at his disposal, will change its purpose when it hears this news. A secretary of the Cardinal Farnese, who is Legate of La Marca, and who arrived here yesterday, assured me that Camerino was very obstinate in its opposition to the Duke. Your Lordships will judge now what course matters may take, and will not fail to bear in mind that the straits in which the Duke may be placed may cause him to throw himself into the arms of your natural enemies, against which your Lordships will know how to provide, with your habitual wisdom.

I have not heard since of the Pisan negotiations, which I have mentioned to your Lordships as a matter of great moment. In speaking on the subject with such persons as I have referred to in former letters, one of them evaded my questions and referred me to what the Duke had told me; and the other told me that Lorenzo d’ Acconcio had left for the purpose of arranging the sending here of three Pisan deputies, two from the city and one from the country; and that the Duke is disposed to see whether by way of agreement he might accomplish something particularly agreeable to your Lordships, and that his first effort will be to get Tarlatino out of the hands of the Pisans, and to induce them to break off their friendly relations with Vitellozzo. Next, he hopes to win the confidence of the Pisans by giving money to their soldiers, and by taking them into his pay. And having thus gained their friendship,  he will endeavor, through the intervention of the king of France, to bring about some arrangement between them and your Lordships which he will offer to guarantee. He pretends to be able to succeed easily in this; but if he fails, it will be because the Pisans are obstinate, and simply because they have no confidence that the promises made to them will be fulfilled. Now whether all this is true or not, I do not know; I give it to you as I have it from an individual who is in the way of knowing the truth of the matter. I beg your Lordships will on all accounts make careful use of it, which I suggest with all due deference.

Messer Ramiro, one of the Duke’s first officers, returned yesterday from Pesaro, and was immediately confined at the bottom of the tower by order of his Excellency. It is feared that he will be sacrificed to the populace, who are very desirous that he should be.

I beg your Lordships with all my heart to be pleased to send me wherewith to live; for if I have to follow the Duke, I shall not know how to do it without money. I shall remain here or return to Castrocaro until your Lordships shall have decided with regard to myself.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

23 December, 1502

P. S. — It is said for certain that the Duke will leave here on Monday, and will go to Rimini. I shall await your Lordships’ reply, and shall not leave without orders; and beg your Lordships to excuse me, for I can go no further.

Niccolo Machiavelli

26 December, 1502

Cesena

LETTER XLII.

Magnificent Signori: —

I wrote your Lordships last on the 23d by way of Bagno, and as I then gave you full account of the departure of the French troops, and what is said here about it, I have nothing else of importance to report on that subject.

The son of the courier Ardingo arrived here yesterday, and brought me two of your Lordships’ letters, of the 20th and 22d; and although I have made every effort since their receipt to  have an audience of the Duke, yet I have not succeeded. Yesterday, when I expected to have seen his Excellency, he was occupied in reviewing his infantry, and in his Christmas pleasures, so that it was impossible for me to see him; and this morning he left at an early hour with his whole army for San Arcangelo, fifteen miles from here, and five miles from Rimini. To-morrow I shall start for the latter place, for I cannot go nearer to the court on account of the difficulty of finding lodgings; although they say that the Duke is not going to stay here, but will move by long marches towards Pesaro. No one knows what he is going to do; some think that he will make an attack upon Sinigaglia, others say Ancona. As regards his forces, he has, besides the troops of which I sent you a list not long since, about thirty newly enlisted Albanese Stradiotes; then he has some twenty-five hundred infantry from the other side of the mountains, and about as many other Italians whom he passed in review yesterday and the day before. And you may count for every thousand infantry about fifty mounted men. The artillery, with a full supply of ammunition, has taken the same route. Upon how many troops the Orsini and the Vitelli may count is not known; but we shall be better informed upon that point when they shall be nearer to each other. As I have mentioned to you before, the Duke is so secret in all he does that he never communicates his designs to any one. His first secretaries have repeatedly assured me that he never makes his plans until the moment of his giving orders for their execution, and he gives these orders only when forced by necessity, and on the spur of the moment, and never otherwise.

I beg your Lordships therefore to excuse me, and not to impute it to negligence on my part, if my information is not satisfactory to you, for I am not satisfied with it myself. We hear nothing more of San Leo and the negotiations with the Duke Guido.

On a former occasion I wrote to your Lordships what the Duke had told me of Camerino, which remained at his disposal; and I wrote you subsequently what I had learned from the secretary of the Cardinal Farnese, who told me that he had but little hope, especially in consequence of the departure of the French troops. The Bishop of Euna told me yesterday that the affair was as good as arranged. Meanwhile we must wait events, so as not to be led into more errors.

Messer Ramiro was found to-day cut into two pieces in the public square, and his body still remains there, so that the whole population has been able to see it. The cause of his death is not precisely known, other than that it was the pleasure of his Excellency thus to show that he has the power to make and unmake men at his will, and according to their merits.

Your above-named courier brought me twenty-five gold ducats and sixteen yards of black damask, for both of which I thank your Lordships very much. As the court is about to break up, they have not yet sent for the three mares which your Lordships inform me are at Poppi. I have only been told to request you to direct them to be well cared for until orders shall have been given to bring them here.

Messer Bartolommeo Marcelli of Borgo, on whose account the Baron de Bierra wrote lately to your Lordships, asks merely that time may be allowed for him to appear until he shall be able to come to Florence. He has himself written to Piero di Braccio, who manages his case; and I beg now to recommend him to your Lordships, quæbene valeant.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Cesena,

26 December, 1502, 22d hour

Niccolo Machiavelli

December

Sinigaglia

LETTER XLIII.

Magnificent Signori: —

Day before yesterday I wrote to your Lordships from Pesaro what I had heard from Sinigaglia. Yesterday I went to Fano, and at an early hour this morning his Excellency the Duke started with his entire army and came here to Sinigaglia, where all the Orsini and Vitellozzo are, who, as I have already informed you, had won this city for him. They met his Excellency on his arrival, and escorted him; but so soon as he had entered the place with them at his side, he suddenly turned to his guard and ordered them to seize these men; and having thus made them all prisoners, the place was given up to pillage.

It is now the 23d hour, and the greatest turmoil prevails, so that I really do not know whether I shall be able to despatch  this letter, having no one whom I can send. I shall write more fully in my next, but according to my judgment the prisoners will not be alive to-morrow.

Sinigaglia,

this last day of

December

P. S. — All the troops of the Orsini and Vitellozzo are also taken, and the manifestoes that are published everywhere say that “The traitors are captured,” etc., etc. I have paid the bearer of this three ducats, and your Lordships will please pay him three more, and reimburse those which I have paid to Biagio.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Niccolo Machiavelli

1 January, 1503

Conrinaldo

LETTER XLIV.

Magnificent Signori: —

I wrote you two letters yesterday in relation to the events that have taken place here since the Duke’s arrival in Sinigaglia; how he had Signor Paolo and the Duke di Gravina Orsini, and Vitellozzo, and Oliverotto, arrested. In my first I simply announced the event, but in the second I gave you all the particular details, and moreover what the Duke had said to me, and the opinion expressed here as to the Duke’s proceedings. I should repeat all this at length, if I did not suppose that these letters have reached you safely. Having sent these two despatches by express messengers, the first by a Florentine at an expense of six ducats, and the other by a man from Urbino at a cost of three ducats, I feel confident of their arrival. Yet by way of extra care I will summarily repeat the whole. His Excellency left Fano yesterday morning with his entire army for Sinigaglia, which town with the exception of the citadel had been occupied by the Orsini and Messer Oliverotto da Fermo. Vitellozzo had arrived there the evening before from Castello. One after the other these persons came out to meet the Duke, and then accompanied him into the town and into his house. As they entered his apartment, the Duke had them seized as prisoners; he then had their infantry disarmed, which was in the suburbs outside of the city; and the Duke sent half of his forces to disarm also  the men-at-arms who were quartered in certain castles some six or seven miles from Sinigaglia. At two o’clock in the night the Duke had me called, and with the most serene air in the world expressed to me his delight at his success; saying that he had spoken to me of this matter the day before, but had not then told me the whole. He then spoke in a most suitable and affectionate manner as to his conduct towards our republic, adducing all the motives that made him desire your friendship, provided these feelings were reciprocated by your Lordships, so that I was quite astonished. I do not repeat all he said, having already written it in my letter of yesterday evening.

Finally he concluded by requesting me to write to your Lordships upon three points. The first, that you rejoice with him at his having destroyed the chief enemies of the king of France, of himself, and of the republic of Florence; and at his having thus removed all seeds of trouble and dissension calculated to ruin Italy, for which your Lordships ought to be under great obligations to him. The next is, that I should request and beg your Lordships on his behalf to be pleased to give to the whole world a proof of your friendship for him, by ordering your cavalry towards Borgo, and to collect infantry there, so that they might march together with his forces upon Castello or Perugia, as might be required; saying that he intended at once to take that route, and that he would have started the evening before, if he had not feared that his departure would have exposed Sinigaglia to being sacked. His Excellency then reiterated to me his request that I should write and ask you to make every demonstration of friendship for him, saying that at present there was no occasion for your being restrained by any fear or mistrust of him, seeing that he was well provided with troops, and that your enemies were prisoners. And, lastly, he begged me to write to your Lordships that it was his particular desire that you should have the Duke Guido, who is at Castello, arrested, in case he should take refuge on Florentine territory upon learning that Vitellozzo was prisoner. Upon my replying to him that it would not comport with the dignity of our republic to deliver the Duke Guido to him, and that you would never do it, he answered, that “he approved of my remarks, and that it would suffice that you should detain the Duke Guido, and not set  him at liberty without his consent.” I promised to write you all this, and his Excellency awaits your reply.

In my letter of yesterday I wrote you also that a certain number of well-informed persons and friends of our republic have suggested to me that the present is a most favorable opportunity for your Lordships to do something for the readjustment of the affairs of Florence. They all think that you can rely upon France, and that it would be most opportune to send here one of your most distinguished citizens as an ambassador on the occasion of this event, and that you should not delay in doing so. For if a personage of high position were to come here with orders to establish friendly relations with the Duke, he would he met half-way. This has been suggested to me again and again by those who are well-wishers to our republic; and I communicate it to your Lordships in the same spirit of devotion with which I have ever served you. This is in brief what I wrote you more fully in my despatch of yesterday. Since then the Duke has had Vitellozzo and Oliverotto da Fermo put to death at the tenth hour of the night. The others are still alive; and it is supposed that the Duke is only waiting to know whether the Pope has the Cardinal Orsino, and the others who were in Rome, safely in his hands, and that, if so, he will dispose of the whole band at the same time.

The citadel of Sinigaglia surrendered to the Duke at an  early hour this morning, and is now in his possession. His Excellency left there this same morning, and has come here with his army. It is certain that they will go in the direction of Perugia and Castello, and possibly to Sienna. The Duke will then move to Rome, and according to popular opinion will settle the Orsini castles there. He also intends taking Bracciano by force, and then all the rest will be as easy as to burn straw. We shall remain here all to-morrow and next day, and then go into quarters at Sassoferrato, the season being as unfavorable for war as can possibly be imagined. You would not believe it were I to describe the condition of the army and its followers; for a man who has the chance of sleeping under cover is deemed fortunate.

Messer Goro da Pistoja, a rebel and enemy of our republic, was with Vitellozzo, and is now prisoner here in the hands of certain Spaniards. I believe that, with a couple of hundred ducats, should your Lordships feel disposed to spend that much, it could be managed that he should be delivered to one of your Rectors. Be pleased to think of this matter, and advise me whether you think it worth while to do anything in the matter.

I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Conrinaldo,

1 January, 1503

Niccolo Machiavelli

2 January, 1503

Conrinaldo

LETTER XLV.

Magnificent Signori: —

I wrote the enclosed to your Lordships yesterday and repeated what I had communicated in my two letters of the day before, and dated at Sinigaglia, and which I sent by express, hoping that they have come safely and in time to your hands. I am sure that, if your Lordships consider the place in which I am, and the confusion existing here, you will excuse the delay if my letters are behind time. For the peasants conceal themselves; no soldier is willing to absent himself, not wishing to forego his chances of plunder; and my own domestics are unwilling to separate themselves from me for fear of being robbed. All these things cause such difficulties that since my first two despatches, which I sent through the influence of  friends and by the promise of large rewards, deeming the news of great importance, I cannot find any one willing to go. And thus it comes that the letter which I wrote yesterday evening is still in my hands, and I know not what day I may be able to send it. But I have not much news to communicate to-day. His Excellency the Duke is still here in Conrinaldo; he attended to-day to paying his infantry, which is about three miles from here, and organizing his artillery, which he has directed to move towards Agobbio by way of Fossombrone, and from there it is to go towards Castello or Perugia, as may seem best to him.

I had a long conversation to-day with one of the Duke’s first officers, and he tells me much the same as what the Duke had told me of his good disposition towards your Lordships. And in conversing with him as to the course which his Excellency intended to pursue, he said that having caused Vitellozzo and Oliverotto to be put to death as tyrants, assassins, and traitors, the Duke intended to carry Signor Paolo and the Duca di Gravina to Rome, confidently hoping that by this time the Cardinal Orsino and Signor Julio were in the hands of the Pope; and that he would then commence legal proceedings against them, and have them condemned by process of law. He told me furthermore that his Excellency intended to free all the states of the Church from factions and tyrants, and restore them to the Pope, keeping for himself only Romagna; and that he expected thereby to place the new Pope under obligations, who would no longer be the slave of the Orsini or the Colonna, as all his predecessors hitherto had been. And this same gentleman assured me anew that the Duke had never had any other thought but to tranquillize Romagna and Tuscany; and that he believed he had now accomplished it by the capture and death of those who had been the chief cause of all the troubles; and that he regarded the rest but as a spark of fire that could be quenched by a single drop of water. And, finally, he told me that your Lordships could now settle their own matters by sending an ambassador to the Duke, with some proposition that would be alike honorable and advantageous for both sides; and who should also give his Excellency every assurance of friendship on your part, leaving aside all formalities and temporizing.

I have deemed it proper to communicate this conversation  just as it occurred, and your Lordships will draw your own conclusions from it.

I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Conrinaldo,

2 January, 1503

Niccolo Machiavelli

2 January, 1503

Conrinaldo

LETTER XLVI.

Magnificent Signori: —

It was with difficulty that I found the bearer of this, whose name is Tornese da Santa Maria Imprunta; and to whom I have paid a gold ducat, and promised him that your Lordships will pay him two more ducats.

The ducat which I have paid him you will please reimburse to Biagio, as also the other four which I have paid for my two previous despatches.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Conrinaldo,

2 January, 1503

When paid, please give the Captain a certificate of it.

Niccolo Machiavelli

4 January, 1503

Sassoferrato

LETTER XLVII.

Magnificent Signori: —

Day before yesterday I wrote my last to your Lordships, which was, as it were, a repetition of what I had written in my two other letters of the last day of the past month, which should have been received by this time; so that your Lordships will have been informed of the taking of Paolo and the Duca di Gravina Orsini, and of the death of Vitellozzo and Messer Oliverotto; as also of what his Excellency told me, and commissioned me to write to your Lordships, and to which I await your reply. Since then there is nothing new, for we left Conrinaldo yesterday morning and came here to Sassoferrato, where we are still at this time. But to-morrow the Duke will go to Gualdo, to take such measures against his enemies as the occasion will permit. That portion of his forces which he sent in pursuit of the cavalry of the Orsini and the Vitelli  returned to-day, having failed to overtake them, as they had all fled in the direction of Perugia. They lost, however, a good many horses, owing to the bad condition of the roads, and because they travelled in great haste. I have nothing more of interest to communicate at present; besides, your Lordships can judge best of the state of things here, being better informed as to the present condition of Perugia and Castello, upon which all matters here depend. This evening I received yours of the 28th ultimo, and understand your instructions as to the course which I am to follow in the matter of Pisa, as also what your Lordships say in relation to the Duke’s mares; and what you learn from France; and how I am to thank his Excellency therefor, which I shall do on the first occasion.

I thank your Lordships especially for the advices from France, and recommend myself most humbly. Valete!

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Sassoferrato,

4 January, 1503

Niccolo Machiavelli

6 January, 1503

Gualdo

LETTER XLVIII.

Magnificent Signori: —

I wrote you on the 4th from Sassoferrato, and by a postscript informed your Lordships of the news from Castello, of the arrival of the ambassador, and of the flight of the Bishop of the place, and of all the Vitelli. On our subsequent arrival here in Gualdo yesterday, and where we still are for the purpose of giving the army some rest, we found deputies from Castello who have come to offer the place to the Duke, and to express their satisfaction, etc., etc.

The Duke accepted the place as Gonfalonier of the Church, and not otherwise, and immediately directed the deputies to despatch some one to Castello to have the artillery of the place put in order. At the same time he ordered his own artillery, which he had directed to advance towards Agobbio, to halt and proceed no further, deeming the guns that are in Castello sufficient for his further enterprises. Some one arrived yesterday evening at the fourth hour to inform the Duke  that Gianpaolo Baglioni, with the Orsini and the Vitelli, and all their men-at-arms, and such as had taken refuge with them, had left Perugia and gone towards Sienna; and that immediately after their departure the population had arisen and shouted for the Duke. Two deputies from Perugia have also arrived this morning, and have confirmed this news; but up to the present moment these deputies have not had an interview with the Duke. The principal officers of the Duke say that he neither wants Perugia nor Castello for himself, but that he merely wishes to deliver them from their tyrants, and to restore them to the possession of the Church; the same as I have already written your Lordships from Conrinaldo. His Excellency will leave here to-morrow with his army for the purpose of establishing a government there according to his own views. Upon the point whether Pandolfo Petrucci, together with the troops that have taken refuge there, will await the Duke’s coming or not, opinions differ. Messer Baldassare Scipione of Sienna, who commands the detached lances here, and whose sagacity is well known to your Lordships, is of opinion that they will wait for the Duke’s arrival; many others think differently, and each give their reasons for their belief. We shall soon know. I have not spoken with his Excellency once since he asked me to request your Lordships to send your troops towards the Borgo. But there is no longer any occasion for your doing so, as both Perugia and Castello have surrendered. I believe you will now be requested to send them to Sienna. It will be well for your Lordships to think of this, so that either your support shall be welcome to the Duke, or that your excuse may be a good one. I have nothing else to write to your Lordships, for your own wisdom will best enable you to appreciate the circumstances and the course which it will be best for you to adopt.

Bene valete!

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Gualdo,

6 January, 1503

Niccolo Machiavelli

8 January, 1503

Ascesi

LETTER XLIX.

Magnificent Signori: —

I wrote last from Gualdo on the 6th, having previously written from Sassoferrato on the 4th, and on the 2d from Conrinaldo, besides two letters from Sinigaglia on the last of December, and one from Pesaro on the 28th; and I look anxiously for your acknowledgment of them all. People here wonder that you have not written, or in some way sent your congratulations to the Duke upon what he has lately done for your advantage; for he is persuaded that our whole republic should feel under great obligations to him. He says that the killing of Vitellozzo and the destruction of the power of the Orsini would have cost you two hundred thousand ducats, and, moreover, that you would never have done it so effectually yourselves as it was done by him.

Since my last letter little of importance has taken place, but what you will have heard of much sooner from another quarter. Now that Castello and Perugia have made their submission, there remains nothing for the Duke except his enterprise against Sienna. The Duke did not accept those places for himself, nor will he make terms with them, but has referred them to Rome, saying that all he aimed at was to have them return to their obedience to the Church, and to suppress the factions in those places, and to deliver them from their tyrants. And to give more color to these professions, he has refused until now permission to the banished to return to Perugia. It seems even that he has promised to the deputies who came to him from Perugia that the banished shall not return there, telling them that his intention had not been to deliver them from one tyrant for the purpose of replacing him by ten others.

Yesterday evening we reached Ascesi, and remain here to-day; and to-morrow morning the army, without baggage trains, for so it is ordered, is to march to Torsiano, seven miles from here. This being but a small place, those who cannot be lodged within will be quartered in the vicinity. After that, it is said, the next halt will be at Chiusi in the Siennese territory, provided he can first cross the Chiana, and then enter the town, which it seems he intends doing either by consent or by  force. Yesterday evening the city of Sienna sent deputies here, who had a long interview with the Duke. I understand the object of their mission is to learn the reasons that have induced his Excellency to threaten that city with war, as it is publicly said that he has the intention of doing. The deputies say they are prepared to justify the conduct of the city of Sienna, etc.

The Duke is reported to have replied to them, that he has ever regarded the city of Sienna as his good friend, and does so still; that it never was his intention to make war upon her, but that he has an intense hatred against Pandolfo Petrucci, who is his mortal enemy since he conspired to drive him from his states. That whenever the city of Sienna shall take ways and means to expel Pandolfo, peace would instantly be made; but in the contrary case, he had come with his army for the purpose of doing it. The Duke added, that he should be sorry to be obliged to injure others, but he felt that he would be excused by God and by men, and even by the Siennese themselves, as being forced to it by necessity and a just anger against a man who, not content to tyrannize over one of the finest cities of Italy, wanted to ruin others, for the sake of dictating laws to all his neighbors. And without any other conclusion, as I understand, the interview was broken off; the ambassadors agreeing to write to their government.

Thus matters remain undecided, and no one can venture to foretell the result. For on the one hand there is the Duke with his unheard of good fortune, with a courage and confidence almost superhuman, and believing himself capable of accomplishing whatever he undertakes; and on the other hand there is a man at the head of a state of great reputation, which he governs with great sagacity, and without an enemy either foreign or domestic, having either conciliated or put them to death, and having plenty of good troops, — if it is true, as reported, that Gianpaolo Baglioni has withdrawn and joined him in Sienna. And even if for the moment they are without any hope of help, yet time is apt to bring it. There is nothing else to be done but to wait and see the end, which cannot be delayed many days. Should this matter lead to open hostilities, then your Lordships will assuredly be called on by the Duke for assistance, and he will demand that you attack from your side. Indeed, I wonder that he has not already done so, but I believe the reason is  that the Duke hopes that this affair of Sienna will take the same course as those of Castello and Perugia, and therefore he is not disposed to place himself under obligations to your Lordships.

I have nothing more to write respecting matters here, and must refer your Lordships to my former letters, both as regards the Duke’s forces and his disposition. But to sum up the whole in two words, as to his forces he has some five hundred men-at-arms, eight hundred light cavalry, and about six thousand infantry. As to his disposition and intentions towards your Lordships, his language always has been and continues to be full of affection, as I have written you several times; and he spoke on the subject so reasonably, and with so much animation, that, if one could believe him to be sincere, we might rest assured without any uneasiness. But the experience of others makes one fear for one’s self; and the manner in which he acted towards your Lordships when there was a question of an arrangement with you deserves serious consideration. For it is evident that his Excellency had the desire to renew his former engagement with our republic; and when he found there was no chance for that, he avoided the subject, and passed it over lightly, saying that a general alliance was sufficient for him, as though he saw clearly that he could not force you to it now, and wanted to bide his time, when he should be able to do so. He seemed to think that he could temporize with perfect convenience, it being quite clear to him that your Lordships would do nothing against him out of regard for France, and in view of the character of his enemies, as well as of your own weakness; and thus he sees only advantage in delay. What I infer from all this, and wish to call specially to your Lordships’ attention, is that when the Duke shall have carried his enterprise against Sienna to a successful conclusion, the time for which is drawing near, he will think that the opportunity which he has planned and expected has at last come. And I submit humbly to your Lordships, that, if I judge this matter wrongly, it is owing partly to my want of experience and partly to the fact that I see only the things that are passing here, and from these I can form no other conclusions than those given above. And now I leave the whole to the wisdom of your Lordships, to whom I recommend myself.

I have learned this evening that certain plenipotentiaries have come here secretly; I shall try to find out further particulars, which I will communicate to your Lordships.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Ascesi,

8 January, 1503

P. S. — I have already mentioned to your Lordships that Messer Goro of Pistoja is prisoner here, and that he might be redeemed for two hundred ducats, or even less, and delivered into your hands. I await your Lordships’ reply in relation to this matter.

Niccolo Machiavelli

10 January, 1503

Torsiano

LETTER L.

Magnificent Signori: —

My last was of the 8th, from Ascesi. Yesterday we came here to Torsiano, a place about four miles from Perugia, but shall leave to-morrow and go to Spedaletto, twelve miles from here, on the road to Sienna. Having written you in my last all I had of interest to communicate, and having received no reply to my many letters since the 28th ultimo, I should not have written you now but that the Duke sent for me to-day and asked me whether I had received any letters from your Lordships. When I told him that I had not, he expressed great surprise, whereupon, of course, I made all reasonable excuses for this delay. Then, leaving this subject, the Duke said to me: “You know, secretary, how well I am disposed towards your government, which I look upon as one of the principal supports of my power in Italy; and for that reason my acts and proceedings with regard to internal as well as external affairs must not be concealed from your Signoria. You see how I stand with those who were the common enemies of your government and of mine: some of them are dead, some prisoners, and some are fugitives, or are besieged in their homes; such as Pandolfo Petrucci, to destroy whom will be the last effort I shall have to make for our mutual security. It is absolutely necessary to drive him from Sienna; for his well-known ability, the amount of money he has at his command, and the strength of the place where he is, would, if he were allowed to remain there, have to be feared like a spark that may  cause a great conflagration. So far from going to sleep over this matter, we shall have to attack him with all our power. I should not find it difficult to drive him out of Sienna, but I want to have him in my hands. For this reason the Pope tries to lull him into security with briefs, persuading him that it will be enough for him to show himself the enemy of the Pope’s enemies; and meantime I advance upon him with my army. But it is well to deceive those who themselves have been masters in treachery. The deputies from Sienna who came to me in the name of their government have promised me well, and I have made it clear to them that I have no desire of depriving the people of Sienna of their liberties, but that all I ask of them is that they shall expel Pandolfo. I have written a letter to the municipality of Sienna, explaining to them my intentions, of the honesty of which they have ample proof in the case of Perugia and Castello, which I handed over to the Church, not wishing to keep them for myself. Moreover, our common master, the king of France, would not be satisfied were I to take Sienna for myself; and I am not sufficiently reckless to attempt anything of the kind. The people of Sienna therefore should believe my assurances that I want nothing more of them than the expulsion of Pandolfo. And I desire that your masters should publish and testify that I have no other intentions than to make sure of this tyrant Petruccio; and I trust that the government of Sienna will believe me. But if not, then I am resolved to advance upon their city and plant my artillery before its gates, and shall do my utmost to drive Petruccio from there. I wished to communicate this to you so that your masters may be fully informed of my intentions; and so that, if they should hear that the Pope has written a brief to Pandolfo, they may know for what purpose he has done so. For after having taken their arms from my enemies I am resolved also to deprive them of their brains, which consist in Pandolfo and his intrigues. I would moreover entreat that in case I should require any assistance in this matter, you should ask your masters to furnish it to me in my efforts against the said Pandolfo. And I truly believe that, if any one had promised to your Signoria a year ago to kill Vitellozzo and Oliverotto, to destroy the Orsini, and to expel Gianpaolo and Pandolfo, and had asked them one hundred thousand ducats for doing it, they would have rushed  to give it to him. But now, since all this has been so thoroughly done without any expense, or effort, or care, on the part of your government, it seems to me that, although there was no written obligation, yet there is a tacit one. And therefore it is well that they should begin to pay it, so that it may not seem to me, nor to others, that the republic of Florence is beyond her custom and character ungrateful. And should the Signoria object on account of the protection of France, you must write to them that the king gives his protection to Sienna, and not to Pandolfo Petrucci. And even if Pandolfo did enjoy that protection, which he does not, he has forfeited it by leaguing himself with others against myself and against his Majesty. Your government therefore will have no excuse, if it fails to come with alacrity to share in this enterprise. And your Signoria ought to come the more gladly, as it will be an advantage to them, as well as a satisfaction to their revenge, and a benefit to the king of France. The advantage will be the destruction of the eternal enemy of their republic, the prompter of all their enemies, and the resort of all those who desire to injure you. And their revenge will be gratified, because Pandolfo has been the head and front of all the ills which their republic has had to bear for the past year; for it was he who furnished the money and the assistance, as well as the plans for assailing them. And in what? In their entire dominions as well as in their own liberty. And whoever does not desire to revenge such things, and does not avail himself of an occasion like the present one, shows himself insensible to everything, and deserves the insults of everybody. Wherein it would be an advantage to the king of France is manifest to every one; for Pandolfo once crushed, I and your Signoria are freed from all apprehensions for our states, and can go with our troops into the kingdom of Naples, or into Lombardy, or wherever the king of France may have need of us. But so long as Pandolfo remains in Sienna, we can never feel secure of our states. All these things are well known and understood by the king of France, and therefore will the destruction of Pandolfo give him great pleasure, and he will feel under obligations to whoever has been instrumental in it. And if I knew that my own interests only were to be advanced by it, I would make greater efforts to persuade your Signoria, but as it is for our mutual interest, let what I have  said suffice. Neither have I said all this because I doubt my ability to accomplish it alone, but because I desire that all Italy shall be assured of our alliance, which will add to the reputation of each of us.”

Thereupon the Duke charged me to write to your Lordships on the subject, and to request a prompt reply, and for that reason have I communicated to you as it were his own words.

In speaking of the affairs of the kingdom of Naples the Duke told me that the Spaniards had killed some thirty French men-at-arms in an ambuscade, which was however a matter of little importance; and that there was no sign of any movement from the direction of Germany. Also, that the king had been much dissatisfied with M. de Chaumont for having recalled his troops; and he repeated that it had been the result of a private resentment on the part of M. de Chaumont against his Excellency.

I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Torsiano,

10 January, 1503

P. S. — Your Lordships will please pay the bearer of this ten lire; also, to reimburse Biagio the five ducats which I have paid for my three despatches of last month, provided it has not already been done.

Don Michele, a Spanish captain in the Duke’s service, was as angry as a devil with me to-day, saying that the letter which he had written at Piombino, as well as those that had been directed to him, had been opened; and that the customs officials at the gates of Florence had taken some small change from certain of his foot-soldiers who were going to Piombino. I beg your Lordships to relieve me of these reclamations by remedying the one and justifying the other.

P. S. — I had forgotten to mention to your Lordships that with my second letter of the 31st of December I sent you a letter written by his Excellency announcing, and at the same time justifying, the event that had taken place. I think it would be well for your Lordships to reply to that letter, whether it has made its appearance or not.

Niccolo Machiavelli

12 January, 1503

Castello della Pieve

LETTER LI.

Magnificent Signori: —

Having lodged last night at Spedale, I was joined on the road this morning by one of the bowmen of Antonio Giacomino, who handed me a letter from your Lordships of the 5th, from which I learned with much regret that you have not received any of my reports upon the events that have taken place. After arriving at this place, Labbro Tesso brought letters from your Lordships that filled me with equal regret, for they inform me that you have received but two of my letters of the 1st and 2d instant. It would really seem as though my efforts failed at the very moment when they were most needed, and when they ought to have procured me your greater esteem. And yet wise men like yourselves know that it is not enough for a man to do his duty, but that he must also have good luck. I would gladly send your Lordships copies of all the letters I have written, if I had them near me; but not having them, owing to the circumstances and places in which I have been, I will briefly recapitulate their contents.

On the 1st of December I wrote you two letters; one a short one, at the twenty-third hour of the night, containing an account of the arrest of the Vitelli and the Orsini; the other a long one, giving full details of the event, and the conversations I had with the Duke, in which he manifested such an affection for our republic, and expressed himself with so much kindness and discretion that I could not have wished for anything more. He showed that he well knew how necessary it was that our republic should be free and powerful, to enable the surrounding states to preserve their power; and that he was ready to undertake anything for that purpose, provided he could count upon your support. He then wanted me to urge your Lordships to aid him with your troops in his attempt against Castello and Perugia, and to take and keep the Duke of Urbino prisoner, in case he should take refuge on Florentine soil; but he said he should be satisfied to have the Duke of Urbino remain in your hands. I wrote you next on the 2d instant from Conrinaldo, reiterating the same details, and adding an account of what had subsequently occurred, as your Lordships will have seen, for that letter was received by you, according to what  you write. After that I wrote you from Sassoferrato on the 4th, and from Gualdo on the 6th, giving an account of the surrender of Castello and Perugia; also about the deputation that had come to the Duke from Sienna. On the 8th I wrote you from Ascesi respecting that deputation, and what I had heard in relation to it. And my last was from Torsiano, on the 10th, in which I reported what the Duke has said to me respecting his intentions with regard to Sienna; namely, that he counted chiefly upon our republic as the principal support of his power, and that for that reason he wished to communicate to me all his intentions, both with regard to internal and external affairs. That after having had Oliverotto and Vitellozzo put to death, crushed the Orsini and driven out Gianpaolo, there remained but one more obstacle in the way of insuring his own and your Lordships’ tranquillity, and that was Pandolfo Petrucci, whom he intended to expel from Sienna. And as he thought that this would be for your advantage as well as for his own, he deemed it necessary that your Lordships should lend a hand in doing it; for if Pandolfo remained there, it was to be feared from the character of the man and from the amount of money he had at command, and from the nature of the place in which he was, lest he should erelong light a conflagration that might destroy more than one place; and that he would ever serve as a refuge for all those violent lords who know no restraints. And as such a state of things would prove more injurious to you than to others, he judged that you ought to feel more interested in it. That there were also various other reasons that should influence you to move in the matter; namely, first, to recognize the advantages derived by your Lordships from the death of Vitellozzo, etc., etc.; secondly, your own special interests: and thirdly, the wishes of the king of France. And as regards the recognition of your obligations to him, if a year ago any one had proposed to your Lordships to kill Vitellozzo and overthrow the Orsini and their adherents, you would readily have obligated yourselves to pay one hundred thousand ducats. But that inasmuch as all this had been done without any expense, labor, or charge to you, your Lordships were under a tacit obligation to him, even if there was no written one; and that it would be well, therefore, if your Lordships would begin to acquit yourselves of that obligation, and not to manifest an ingratitude so contrary to your habits. As  to the advantage which you would derive from it, that was great; for if Pandolfo remained in Sienna he would prove a refuge and a support for all your enemies. As for the pleasure of revenge, he said that Pandolfo had instigated the war against your Lordships during the past summer in the affair of Arezzo, both by his talents and with his money, and that it was in the nature of things that you should seek an opportunity to revenge yourselves upon him on that account; and that if you allowed the occasion to pass without resenting it, you would deserve similar injuries at all times. And as to the advantage that would result from it to his Majesty the king of France, it consisted in this: that Pandolfo once expelled from Sienna, he, the Duke, would be relieved from all apprehensions, and could then hasten freely with all his troops to the support of the king, either in Lombardy or in the kingdom of Naples. His Excellency said, furthermore, that your Lordships ought not to hesitate on account of the protection which France had promised to Sienna, because that was to the city, and not to Pandolfo; and that he was making war upon Pandolfo, and not upon the city of Sienna. That he had so given the people of Sienna to understand, and had requested me to write to the same effect to your Lordships, so that you might publish it and testify to all the world that, if the city of Sienna expelled Pandolfo, he, the Duke, would not set foot upon Siennese territory; but that if they refused to do so, then he would direct his artillery against their walls; and he requested me anew to write to your Lordships, and to beg you to assist him with your troops in this undertaking. The substance of all this was contained in my letter of the 10th, from Torsiano, which I have now repeated, fearing that letter may not have reached your Lordships’ hands, as well as my others. I hope your Lordships will decide this matter soon, by a reply to this.

After receipt of yours of the 9th, I called upon the Duke and made known to him that your Lordships were ready to send your troops towards Castello whenever it should be necessary. I also told him of the satisfaction which your Lordships felt at this late event, and of the appointment of Jacopo Salviati as a special ambassador to him, who would shortly be here. The Duke was greatly pleased at all this, saying that he felt convinced that your Lordships would not fail in their duty to aid  him in his attempt against Pandolfo; and begged me anew to urge your Lordships to that effect. He expressed pleasure at the selection of Salviati, whose arrival he looked forward to with impatience. We then conversed upon many points touching this undertaking against Pandolfo, which he declared himself resolved to prosecute anyhow, and in relation to which he manifests the utmost earnestness, saying that he will not want for either money or support. On the other hand Messer Romolino left yesterday per post for Rome, and I learn from good authority that the object of this mission is to consult the Pope upon this enterprise, and to ask him whether, in case it were possible to treat with Pandolfo on advantageous terms, it might not be well to do so. For the Duke seems to think that it might be too much for him if he had at the same time to take care of Sienna and the Orsini business; whilst by disposing of the one first, the other would be much easier, and he might afterwards take up the first again at a suitable moment. It is possible that my information may not be correct; nevertheless the thing is not unreasonable, although it is quite contrary to the Duke’s own words; for he protested to me that he would carry out his enterprise against Pandolfo at all hazards, and that if the Pope negotiated with Pandolfo, it was for the purpose of getting him into his own hands, and that the hopes which such negotiations held out to Pandolfo would prevent his taking to flight. I think it well to hear all things, and then to await the result.

The whole of this day has been devoted to making scaling-ladders, for the first siege works will be thrown up on the other side of the Chiana on Siennese territory, but the precise spot is not known.

The Duke has given a most gracious reception to a secretary of the Bentivogli who has arrived here, and has assured him of his friendly disposition towards his master. He has ordered that the treaty of peace concluded between himself and the said Bentivogli shall be published in all his dominions, as well as in his camp here, so that it may be known to everybody. His Excellency has demanded from the Bentivogli one hundred men-at-arms, and two hundred light cavalry, which they are bound to furnish him. And he has this day requested me to write to your Lordships, and to beg you in his name to accord free passage and provisions, at their own expense, to these  troops of Messer Giovanni Bentivogli, who are coming to his support.

Of the Duke of Urbino not a word has been said either by his Excellency or myself, for it did not seem proper for me to open that subject. The Duke being here in Castello della Pieve it seemed to me opportune to recommend to him Messer Bandino, who is in your Lordships’ pay, having heard that certain of his enemies had returned here. His Excellency replied to me that he held Messer Bandino in great esteem, and felt a great interest in his affair, especially as he was in your service; and he assured me that no harm shall be done either to his person or his property.

With this there will be a letter for Piombino, which has been recommended to me by Messer Alessandro Spannochi. I have promised him that your Lordships will have it forwarded by express, and I beg that it may be done.

I have expended five ducats for the sending of my first three despatches after the events at Sinigaglia, and I beg your Lordships to have them reimbursed to me, and that they may be paid for my account to Biagio Buonaccorsi, provided it seems fit to your Lordships that I shall not suffer where I have not been at fault.

I recommend myself most humbly.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Castello della Pieve,

12 January, 1503

Niccolo Machiavelli

21 January, 1503

Castiglione Aretino

LETTER LII.

Magnificent Signori: —

Yesterday I left the ambassador Jacopo Salviati to return to Florence, for the reasons which your Lordships will learn from the ambassador’s letter herewith enclosed. Before my departure it was said at court that an arrangement had been concluded between the Duke and the Siennese. Having been obliged by the state of the river Chiana to return to Castello della Pieve for the night, I found here Don Hugo, one of the Duke’s Spanish captains, who is here with his troops. He had received a letter this evening ordering him to break up in the morning and march towards Orvieto, as the Duke was also  going to take that direction with all his forces. And as I was about mounting my horse this morning, the said Don Hugo and his troops were also just about to start; and he told me that the treaty with Sienna was really concluded, and that Pandolfo was to have left Sienna with a safe-conduct from the Duke;† but further particulars I did not get. Having brought this news here with me, I thought it well to anticipate my return and to send it to you by an express. For further details I must refer you to what the ambassador will write you; but knowing that his letter will reach you with difficulty, I would not miss giving your Lordships this brief notice, and recommend myself most humbly.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

21 January, 1503,

at the 3d hour of the night.

Castiglione Aretino

I have promised the bearer of this three lire.

MISSION TO SIENNA.

COMMISSION AND INSTRUCTIONS TO NICCOLO MACHIAVELLI, SENT TO SIENNA BY THE TEN OF LIBERTY AND PEACE.

Resolved 26 April, 1503.

Niccolo, —

You will proceed by post to Sienna with all possible speed, and before anything else you will present yourself to the Magnificent Pandolfo, for whom you will have letters of credence. And after the customary and necessary formalities due to the friendship existing between us, and respecting which we need not give you any special instructions, you will make known to his Magnificence that the object of your mission is to inform him of what is taking place, and mainly of those matters that are of importance to him; and that it is proper at present to let him know that for some time past we have been urged by his Holiness the Pope and the Duke Valentino to conclude an alliance with them, and to form a league with all the other members of the house of Borgia; and that they are pressing it at this moment with more warmth and urgency than ever. As it may happen therefore that such an alliance is concluded, inasmuch as his Majesty the king of France has some interest in the matter, it seems necessary to us that his Magnificence should be informed of it, so that he may in return communicate to us his views with regard to it; and that it is for that purpose that we have sent you to perform this office of good friends.

You will also have letters of credence to the Balia of the city of Sienna, which you will present or not according as may seem fit to the Magnificent Pandolfo; and in all matters connected with this mission you will act in such manner as he may deem best. You will likewise have a letter for Messer Francesco da Narni, to whom you will explain the object of your mission.  You will tell him of the confidence which we have in his Lordship, and of our hopes of obtaining through him the object respecting which we have spoken with him. You will urge him to do all he can, and to lose no opportunity of doing it; and you will communicate to him all the preparations and provisions we have made, and you will tell him of our relations with France and with Rome, so far as may seem to you to be advisable. The conditions of the league which it has been proposed to form with the above-named parties for the common defence of the states which they have in Italy, are the following, viz. — That we are to keep five hundred men-at-arms, and they six hundred men; but until we shall have recovered the places which we have lost we shall not have to furnish more than three hundred men-at-arms, and they likewise, so that the obligation shall be equal on both sides. But after recovering what we have lost, both parties will have to furnish their full quota. The friends and enemies of both shall be common friends and enemies, without in any way derogating from any other special treaties which any of the parties may have with his Majesty the king of France. And if any of the contracting parties acts adversely to his Majesty, then the league becomes thereby null and void. Within the period of one month, the parties must make known their adherents and clients; but neither party can protect rebels or banish persons. And any difficulties that may arise shall be subject to the decision of the king, whose consent to the treaty is an indispensable condition.

And so soon as you shall have executed and carried into effect the above instructions, you will immediately return, unless there should be some special reason why you should write to us and await our answer.

From the Florentine Palace on the day and date above written.

Decem Viri Libertatis et Baliæ
Republ. Florent.

Marcellus.

MISSION TO THE COURT OF ROME. October 24, 1503.

The object of this mission of Machiavelli to Rome was nominally to present to the Florentine Ambassador at Rome, Francesco Soderini, Cardinale di Volterra, certain modifications in the engagement of Gianpaolo Baglioni to serve the king of France in his contest with the Spaniards under the famous Captain Gonsalvo de Cordova in the kingdom of Naples. This engagement of Baglioni had been negotiated by the Cardinal Volterra, and was to be paid for by the Florentine government, and was to be credited to the Florentines on their indebtedness to the king of France, and at the same time was to secure to the Florentines the aid and support of King Louis XII. against the aggressions of the Venetians. If the proposed modifications were accepted, then Machiavelli was to ratify the agreement; but if not, then he was to leave the agreement unratified, etc.; in all of which, however, he was to be governed by the advice of the Cardinal Volterra. At the same time Machiavelli was specially instructed to keep the Signoria of Florence diligently informed from day to day of all that occurred worthy of note. The events then transpiring at Rome were of the utmost interest and importance. After the death of Pius III., who had occupied the Papal chair but twenty-six days, Giuliano della Rovere, Cardinal of San Pietro in Vincola, was elected Pope. Cesare Borgia had supported the candidacy of Giuliano della Rovere, and induced his friends the Spanish cardinals to vote for him in the conclave, expecting that in return the new Pope would not only support his claims to the Romagna, but would also give him the appointment of Captain-General of the Papal forces, which he claimed to have been promised to him by Giuliano prior to his election. As we have seen in Machiavelli’s despatches during his mission to the Duke of Valentinois, the military successes and the rapid rise of Cesare Borgia, so we see in his despatches during this mission to Rome the equally rapid decline of the Borgia’s fortune. He had come to Rome to aid in the election of Julius II., not thinking that he thereby placed himself in the power of a man of greater duplicity and craftiness than himself. For besides his implacable enmity and personal hatred of Cesare Borgia, Julius II. considered the Romagna as the legitimate property of the Church, which he was resolved to recover for the Church at any cost; and therefore he not only disregarded the promises made to Cesare Borgia before his elevation to the pontificate, but actually had him arrested and imprisoned in the Castel San Angelo because Cesare Borgia refused to give up the  passwords for entering into the several strongholds which he still held in the Romagna, and which the Pope had demanded of him. Meantime the Venetians, ever eager to extend their dominion over the Romagna, took advantage of the absence of the Duke of Valentinois to seize Faenza and some other smaller towns in the Romagna, and at the same time threatened the adjoining possessions of the Florentine republic. It was one of the objects of Machiavelli’s mission to endeavor through the Cardinal d’Amboise, then at Rome, to obtain the aid and support of the king of France in their efforts to resist the aggressions of the Venetians; and at the same time, in conjunction with the Florentine Ambassador, the Cardinal Volterra, to urge the Pope to active measures against the Venetians.

COMMISSION AND INSTRUCTIONS GIVEN TO NICCOLO MACHIAVELLI, SENT TO ROME BY THE TEN OF LIBERTY, ETC., 24 OCTOBER, 1503.

Niccolo, —

You will proceed with all diligence to Rome, bearing with you our several letters of credence to those most reverend Cardinals whose good will it is most important to conciliate, such as Rouen, San Giorgio, Santo Severino, Ascanio, San Pietro in Vincola, and Santa Prassede.† You will  present yourself to these Cardinals in our name, and make known to each of them, that we had within the last few days appointed ambassadors, who were all ready to start when we heard of the death of Pope Pius III., which greatly afflicted our whole city. And that although these ambassadors will not go now, yet we did not wish to fail in our duty, and have sent you to express to them our deep grief at this event, and our desire that they may give to the late Pontiff a successor such as the needs of Christendom and of Italy require; and that, knowing such to be also their desire, we offer them all the assistance in our power to that end.

You will regulate your language as you may deem best to suit each of these Cardinals, and according to the information which you will receive from our most reverend Cardinal,† with whom you will confer before anything else, and according to whose suggestions you will regulate your conduct. You will take with you also a copy of the military engagement of the Baglioni, concluded within the past few days in our name by his Eminence; and a minute of our declaration, which we desire to be added to it. In all this you will observe the following order; namely, you will first confer on the subject with our said most reverend Cardinal, and you will make him understand our wishes that he should explain, in accordance with that minute, that clause of the engagement relative to our being relieved of the expenses and the damages, etc., etc., and that we shall have the right, whenever we may have need of them, to claim the services of the four hundred lances provided for in the engagement. And that his Eminence will speak of it to the Cardinal d’Amboise, either in your presence or in private, and in such manner as he may deem best, so that the latter may understand it the same as we do; which should present no difficulty, as it appears plainly in the written instrument. And if our declaration is agreed to according to the said minute, then you will ratify the same, for which purpose  we have given you our power; and you will bring back with you an authenticated copy of that ratification.

Should his Eminence Cardinal d’Amboise, however, make any difficulty on the subject, then you will not ratify the engagement, but will write to us immediately and await our further instructions. And in case difficulty is made, then it will be your business to terminate this affair in accordance with the terms of our declaration. Should it be objected that perhaps we will not pay, and that thus the king would not be served, you will reply that, if the agreement is not concluded within a certain number of days, we would be willing, Gianpaolo also consenting, to fall back upon the old agreement, in so far as we may have failed to fulfil our obligations. It being understood, nevertheless, that one payment to the king or to Gianpaolo shall be deemed sufficient.

In the same way, should either the Cardinal d’Amboise or Gianpaolo make any difficulty, and object to a mere oral ratification in that form, you may offer and promise them a ratification by your government in due form, which would be sent as required, after our first having received notice from you to that effect.

Beyond this we have no further particular instructions to give you, save that during your stay in Rome you will keep us diligently informed from day to day of all that may occur worthy of notice.

Niccolo Machiavelli

28 October, 1503

Rome

LETTER I.

Magnificent Signori: —

I wrote yesterday to inform your Lordships of my arrival here. By the present I desire to communicate to you what has been done in relation to the first part of your instructions, and what I have since learned of the state of things here. Your Lordships will bear in mind that, after having decided that the engagement of Gianpaolo Baglioni should be ratified with suitable reserves, you so notified the Cardinal Volterra. His Eminence fully comprehended your intentions as communicated to him by your letter; but as the time for ratifying  the convention was passing, and the Cardinal being ignorant of the fact that I was about to be sent here for that purpose, he prepared a letter which he intended the Cardinal d’Amboise should send you signed with his own hand. This letter in substance contained no more than the form of the declaration which your Lordships had given me, and to which I was to conform in my proceedings.

His Eminence was occupied with this matter when I arrived and submitted to him my commission. He was pleased to find that your views corresponded with his own, and, ceasing further efforts to have the aforesaid letter signed by the Cardinal d’Amboise, he informed him and the President, who was charged with this matter, that an envoy had been sent by your Lordships for the express purpose of ratifying the agreement. His Eminence afterwards directed me to confer with the Cardinal d’Amboise, but owing to his many occupations I could not see him until this evening at the fourth hour. In view of the times and circumstances, our Cardinal had directed me to say to the Cardinal d’Amboise, in substance, that your Lordships felt no less solicitude for the interests of the king than for your own; and as, much to their regret, they had heard many things unfavorable to his Majesty, they felt it to be their duty as faithful friends to mention them to him with all respect, so that he might give them such attention as they deserved. I thereupon told the Cardinal d’Amboise that it was reported in Florence that the French army had turned back, that the troops that were in Lombardy had in great part returned to France, and that the Venetians were in force in Romagna, and intended to make themselves masters of that province. Also that it was feared the Germans, either of their own accord or at the instigation of others, were about to make an incursion into Lombardy; and that all these things caused the greatest uneasiness to your Lordships, who desired to suggest to his Eminence that it was time to increase the French forces in Italy, and rather to abandon other enterprises, etc., etc. I told him, furthermore, that I had been sent to ratify the engagement of Gianpaolo Baglioni, with full authority for that purpose, whenever the agreement was so drawn that the republic of Florence should be at no greater charges and should have no less advantages than under the convention made with his Majesty. To all of which the Cardinal d’Amboise replied,  that he thanked your Lordships for the suggestions; that he had seriously thought of it all, and was here for no other purpose, etc., etc.; and that as to the engagement of Gianpaolo Baglioni, he would co-operate with the Cardinal Volterra, and that everything should be settled in due form.

I then reported to our Cardinal all that D’Amboise had said in reply to the one and the other point; and in relation to the engagement of Baglioni we came to the conclusion that, having done our duty on our part, we would wait for the others to do theirs, and thus we shall act.

I think this letter will be brought to you by M. de Mellon, who is sent by the Cardinal d’Amboise to your Lordships at Florence, and then to Bologna and Ferrara; and afterwards to Urbino, to complain of the damage done to the Duke Valentino in his state of Romagna. The entrance of Ordelaffo into Furli, which everybody here lays to your charge, has filled the Cardinal San Giorgio with indignation on account of his nephews, and has also to some extent angered the Cardinal d’Amboise on account of the Duke Valentino. This morning M. de Trans and the President expressed their displeasure about this affair to his Eminence of Volterra. The latter had me called to him, and I justified your Lordships in regard to all these proceedings in Romagna, of which, as your Lordships know, I am thoroughly informed. And then, by way of pacifying the Duke and making him some reparation, it was decided to send M. Mellon or some one else to him. His Excellency is at this moment at Castello, and is more confident than ever of accomplishing his great projects, in the expectation that the election of the new Pope will be in accordance with the desires of his partisans. As the obsequies of Pius III. will terminate to-day, the Cardinals should go into conclave to-morrow; but it is said that they will not do so until Bartolommeo d’ Alviano and the Orsini shall have withdrawn from Rome; they being here, the one, as some say, with three hundred men-at-arms, and the other with two hundred, or a less number as is said by some. They have had money wherewith to raise one thousand infantry, but we have no evidence of their having put many on foot.

Gianpaolo is in quarters in the suburbs; his friends say that he has one hundred men-at-arms, and he has already received five thousand ducats on account of his engagement, and three  thousand ducats for every one thousand infantry, but which no one has as yet seen. I have not yet been able to speak with him, and in truth I have spoken with but few others, excepting our Cardinal, so that I am not able to give you such information about matters here as I would like. But I shall use all diligence and make every effort to do my duty.

All I have learned respecting the French army is that they presented themselves before San Germano, and offered battle to the Spanish commander Gonsalvo de Cordova, who declined it. And as the French doubted their ability to take the place, they concluded to return and to attempt a passage somewhere else. It is said that they are at Ponte Coneo, and that they are marching in the direction of Gaeta for the purpose of passing the Garigliano.

Opinions differ as to the election of the new Pope, and yet I can only say to your Lordships that it is supposed that San Pietro in Vincola will not have more than thirty-two votes, and Santa Prassede twenty-two.

I recommend myself to your Lordships.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Rome,

28 October, 1503

Niccolo Machiavelli

29 October, 1503

Rome

LETTER II.

Magnificent Signori: —

Yesterday I had a discussion with the President, to whom the Cardinal d’Amboise has committed the negotiations respecting the matter of Gianpaolo Baglioni. Taking all the arguments together, I do not see that we shall be able to obtain from the Cardinal d’Amboise any declaration in accordance with the instructions which you have given me, until he shall have come out of the conclave; for the election of the Pope keeps him so much occupied that he has real grounds for being excused. And as the Cardinals insist that the foreign troops shall leave Rome upon their going into conclave, and as on the other hand Gianpaolo will not leave until he has the remainder of his pay, I believe it will have to come to this, that the Cardinal d’Amboise will give to your Lordships an acquittance for six thousand ducats, which sum you will pay to Gianpaolo for the  remainder of his pay, and which will be credited to you on account of the ten thousand ducats which you have to pay to his Majesty on All Saints’ Day. And according to what Domenico Martello tells me, you will have all the month of November to settle it in. Thus I believe that the affair of Gianpaolo can best be arranged for the present, and in truth, seeing how overwhelmed the Cardinal d’Amboise is with his many occupations, we cannot expect anything more.

According to report, Bartolommeo Alviano leaves to-morrow to rejoin the Spaniards. Gianpaolo tells me that he has not more than two hundred men-at-arms and three hundred infantry. In examining well the object of these new engagements made by the Spaniards as well as the French, it is evident that the object is more to increase their reputation than the number of their troops; for in consequence of the great enmities which these Condottieri have stirred up in the different Roman towns, they are looked upon more as brigands than as soldiers. And being entirely controlled by their own passions, they cannot well serve a third party; and the treaties of peace which they conclude amongst themselves only last until a fresh occasion presents itself for injuring each other. Whoever is here on the spot has the daily experience of this; and those who know them only temporize with them until they can do without them.

Gianpaolo is to take the route through Tuscany; for he wanted to do so, saying that he must form his company at home; and altogether the Cardinal d’Amboise cares little about it. I believe, as I have mentioned above, that he will come with an order upon your Lordships for his pay, which payment will go on account of what we owe the king, according to the authentic acquittances.

To-day whilst in the apartment of the Cardinal Volterra, the President and M. de Trans called there, and showed the Cardinal a letter which M. d’Allegri had written to the Marquis of Mantua, dated at Trani on the 24th instant; saying that he was there with three hundred men-at-arms and two thousand infantry, and that he had sent for the Viceroy to come and join him with three thousand infantry and with the artillery; and that so soon as the Viceroy should have arrived he would promptly cross the Garigliano, which presented no difficulty; and therefore he urged the Marquis to join him with all the  remainder of his army. He informed him also that he had just received news of the fleet; that it had gone to Naples, which city had revolted against the Spaniards, and had opened its gates to the king’s troops. This letter, as I have said, was written by M. d’Allegri to the Marquis of Mantua, who sent the original to the Cardinal d’Amboise, and wrote him on the 25th that he would start the following day with the army to join M. d’Allegri. I communicate this news to your Lordships as I have heard it read, and you will judge of it as it deserves, and wait for its confirmation.

Having received this morning your Lordships’ letter of the 24th, containing the excuses which I am to make to the Cardinal San Giorgio on account of the entrance of Ordelaffo into Furli, I called at once upon his Eminence, and after some preliminary remarks I read him your Lordships’ letter, which seemed to cover the ground and calculated to produce a good effect. His Eminence observed to me that in all matters men looked more to the result than to the means; and that the result of this affair was that Ordelaffo had entered Furli, and that his own nephews found themselves driven out of it; that he readily believed that your Lordships could not have acted otherwise in this matter, for the reasons which you alleged, and which he was willing to admit. Still he assured your Lordships that, since you had been constrained by force not to sustain his nephews, they had been obliged in their turn to throw themselves into the arms of the Venetians, and seek support wherever they could find it for the protection of their interests. But with all this, he makes the most liberal offers of service to your Lordships.

The Cardinal San Pietro in Vincola seems to be so generally supported for the Papacy, that according to the opinion of every one that speaks on the subject, assuming that we may accept this universal opinion, one is bound to believe that he will be chosen. But as most frequently the Cardinals are of an entirely different opinion when they are outside of the conclave than when they are shut up, it is said by those who best understand matters here, that it is quite impossible to form any reliable judgment, and therefore we must patiently abide the result.

Having written to your Lordships yesterday evening a full account of the conversation which I had with the Cardinal  d’Amboise, I can think at present of nothing else of interest to communicate. I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ feliciter valeant.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Rome,

29 October, 1503

Niccolo Machiavelli

30 October, 1503

Rome

LETTER III.

Magnificent Signori: —

I wrote to your Lordships on the 28th, by M. de Mellon, and yesterday again I wrote at length and gave the letter to Giovanni Pandolfini, so that he might send it by the first opportunity. It remains for me now to inform your Lordships by the present that the Cardinals, having determined to go into conclave to-morrow, have compelled the troops that are here for account of Spain and France to leave Rome. Bartolommeo d’ Alviano left this morning, and will halt this evening about twelve miles from here on the road to Naples. It is not positively known whether he will go any farther; his whole force, including that of the other Orsini, does not exceed two hundred men-at-arms. The Savelli have withdrawn into their own places, and Giovanpaolo will lodge to-night at Ruosi, a place about fifteen miles from here on the road to Tuscany; his entire force, not counting the company of Messer Brandino, does not amount to more than sixty men-at-arms. True he says that he intends completing his company when he shall have received his pay. I believe that he will go into cantonments in the Perugian territory; for he has expressed that intention, and the authorities of Perugia will permit him to do so, unless something unforeseen should occur. As to the ratification of the engagement I can tell you nothing more than what I wrote yesterday, for the Cardinal d’Amboise is so exceedingly occupied with going into the conclave that he cannot give that matter any attention now. But I believe that to-morrow, before entering into the conclave, those who are acting here for Giovanpaolo will endeavor to obtain a letter from the Cardinal drawn up in the way which I mentioned in my despatch of yesterday, according to which your Lordships will be authorized, out of the ten thousand ducats which we owe to the king of France, to pay six thousand  to Giovanpaolo for his compensation in full; the Cardinal d’Amboise guaranteeing by his letter that such payment shall be accounted the same as though made by you to the king direct. When Giovanpaolo shall have received this sum of six thousand ducats, he will have been paid somewhat in advance of what is due him; and if he goes to Tuscany, as it seems likely he will, your Lordships may perhaps have occasion to avail of his services there. I have talked at length with him upon this point, and found him so well disposed, and even eager to render you any service, that it is more than could have been expected of him, even had he been a native Florentine. Your Lordships will bear this in mind, so that in case of need you may claim his services, if you see that it will be of advantage for the internal affairs of Florence.

The Cardinals, as I have said before, will go into conclave to-morrow, unless something unexpected should occur; and the opinion that the Cardinal San Pietro in Vincola will be elected has gained ground to that extent that there are persons here who admit that he will have sixty per cent of the votes. And in truth he is largely supported, and knows how to win the Cardinals by all the means that can be employed for that purpose. The Duke Valentino is made much of by those who are anxious to be elected to the Papacy, on account of the Spanish Cardinals, who are in his interest, and many Cardinals call upon him daily at the castle, so that it is generally thought that whoever may be elected Pope will be under great obligations to the Duke; whilst he lives in the hope of being in turn supported by the new Pope.

The Cardinal d’Amboise is very active in the matter, and the greater part of the Cardinals that come to the palace confer much with him. But it is not known whether he favors the election of the Cardinal San Pietro in Vincola; if he does, then there can be no question as to his success; but we must patiently await the result. The news I wrote you yesterday respecting Naples, and that the French were about to cross the Garigliano, has not been confirmed since then. It is true we have no accounts to the contrary, and, as the roads between the camp and here are destroyed, letters reach here only with the greatest difficulty. By way of not omitting anything to obtain information, I have written in duplicate to Luca Savello, requesting him to keep me informed from time to time as to  the state of things there. It is reported that the Italian men-at-arms that were with the French have in great part deserted. Some ascribe it to the dangers to which they were exposed; others, to the treatment they had experienced; others again attribute it to their natural cowardice. I have myself seen some twenty men-at-arms arrive here who had been with the Duke Valentino, and whom he had sent into the kingdom of Naples to serve the king of France. They have taken quarters here in Rome, some say at the instance of the Sacred College; others maintain that they have stopped by order of the Duke himself, in the hope of availing of their services after the election of the Pope.

I have written and shall continue to write daily, and shall send my letters to Giovanni Pandolfini to forward them to your Lordships; for having no instructions from you on this point I have no other means of sending my letters. If your Lordships desire immediate news of the result of the election of the new Pope, you must advise me, and give me authority to incur the necessary expenses; and if not, then I must endeavor to send my letters by other opportunities, which, however, are not to be relied upon. And so I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Rome,

30 October, 1503

P. S. — It is now the third hour of the night, and after having written all the above I receive your letter of the 26th, informing me of the loss of Faenza to the Duke. Having returned to my lodgings, and it not being safe for me to be out at night, I have sent the information to the Cardinal Volterra by a simple note, and shall talk the matter over with him to-morrow in person. I can really say nothing on this subject unless that, with regard to the dangers which your Lordships indicate, I see no remedy here; for the French, at whose hands help was expected, have quite enough to occupy them. The only hope that remains is that the Duke may succeed in obtaining the support of the new Pope, as it is generally believed that he will; and that the governor of the citadel may hold out until the Duke can come to his assistance.

I recommend myself to your Lordships.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Niccolo Machiavelli

between the last day of October and the first day of November

Rome

LETTER IV.

Magnificent Signori: —

My last was of the 30th of October, and was sent through the Del Bene; amongst other things, I wrote you what the general opinion here is respecting the new Pope, and that the Cardinals were to go into conclave on the following day. The belief that San Pietro in Vincola will be chosen has grown to that degree, that before the closing of the conclave they conceded to him ninety per cent of the votes; for it had become known that his two most influential opponents, who were likely to prevent his election, had become reconciled to him. These were the Cardinal d’Amboise and the Spanish Cardinals, friends of the Duke, who have all changed in his favor. The reason why the Cardinal d’Amboise has thus changed is said to be that his suspicions were excited against the Cardinal Ascanio, and because it had been demonstrated to him that they could not make a Pope who would more effectually deprive Ascanio of all influence than San Pietro in Vincola, who had always looked upon Ascanio as an enemy. But as to the Spanish Cardinals and the Duke Valentino, it is easy to conjecture the influences to which they have yielded; which are that the latter needs to be re-established, and the former want to be enriched. If this has really been the way, then we shall know it better in the course of the day. In short, San Pietro in Vincola will have known how to employ the means of persuasion better than the others, if he should be made Pope, which may now be looked upon as certain. For at this very moment, it being the eighth hour of the night, at the very turn of the 1st of November, a servant of the Cardinal San Pietro in Vincola comes into my chamber, just from the palace, and tells me that the conclavist of that Cardinal had received five notes, one after the other, from the Cardinal San Pietro, informing him of the unanimity of the Cardinals to make him Pope; notwithstanding that at the beginning it was understood that there were seven Cardinals in favor of Santa Prassede, and that foremost amongst these was Ascanio. He told me further that the last of these notes directed him to despatch this news to Savona and to Sinigaglia, and that the new Pope had taken the name of Julius II., and that couriers had been despatched with the news. These events,  and many others that succeed each other from one moment to another, well merit being communicated to you by express; but I have no orders to that effect from your Lordships, nor am I authorized to incur such an expense; and during the night I can neither send nor go myself to inquire whether any one else is despatching a courier to Florence, for it is not safe to venture out at night here. The individual that came here from the palace was escorted by twenty armed men. I shall therefore wait for daylight, and if I then find any one who will take my letter I shall send it, and shall then also be able to give you more certain information. And by way of excusing myself once for all, I would say that your Lordships will observe that I write daily; but as to sending off my letters, I must avail myself of such opportunities as others afford me.

Bene valete!

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Rome,

at the

8th hour of night, between the last day of October

and the first day of November.

Niccolo Machiavelli

1 November, 1503

Rome

LETTER V.

Magnificent Signori: —

Under favor of God, I inform your Lordships that the Cardinal San Pietro in Vincola was this morning proclaimed Pope. May Heaven make him a useful pastor for all Christendom!

Valete!

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Rome,

1 November, 1503

Niccolo Machiavelli

1 November, 1503

Rome

LETTER VI.

Magnificent Signori: —

I wrote to your Lordships last night, and repeated this morning, the news of the election of the new Pope in the person of the Cardinal San Pietro in Vincola, who has taken the name of Julius II. I write the present with the view of sending it by another opportunity, as I was not in time to send  it with the courier whom the Del Bene despatched this morning at one o’clock. The creation and proclamation of this new Pope has really been quite extraordinary, for the election took place in open conclave. So soon as the Cardinals came together, which was about midnight, they caused it to be published abroad; and it was upon this publication that the letters were written; and although we are now at the fifteenth hour, yet the customary formalities for the publication of the election have not yet been complied with. When we reflect well upon the support which the new Pope received in his election, we cannot but look upon it as almost miraculous; for the many parties into which the Sacred College is divided have all given him their support. The king of France as well as the king of Spain had written to the College in his favor, and even the barons of the opposite faction had given him their support. San Giorgio favored him, and so did the Duke Valentino, to that extent that he was enabled to attain this exalted post. Our countrymen were greatly delighted at it, and found great hopes upon his election, both on their own account as well as on account of the public. And yesterday morning a person in high position told me that if Pietro in Vincola succeeded in being chosen Pope, we might hope great advantages from it for our republic, for he has already made greater promises than customary.

This is all I have at present to communicate, excepting to recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Rome,

1 November, 1503

Niccolo Machiavelli

1 November, 1503

Rome

LETTER VII.

Magnificent Signori: —

This is the fourth letter I have written to your Lordships on the election of the Cardinal San Pietro in Vincola to the new Pontificate under the name of Julius II. I should not have written the present one were it not that in conversing to-day, after the conclusion of the ceremonies, with his Eminence the Cardinal Volterra, he told me that “they had to-night, after the election of the new Pope, distributed by lot the charge of  the different fortresses belonging to the Church. That San Giorgio had drawn Citerna, and that he, Volterra, had drawn certain others; and that in his opinion, unless some measures were taken, you would not be able to retain Citerna. And therefore he advised your Lordships that with your approval he would endeavor to effect an exchange with San Giorgio; so that he would keep Citerna and give to San Giorgio one of the fortresses that had fallen to his lot. That in this way the matter would be facilitated, as in fact it would not then be looked at so closely.” His Eminence charged me to write to you on the subject, and to solicit a prompt reply.

I have nothing further to communicate to your Lordships respecting matters here, having sent you a long letter this morning about the election of Giuliano della Rovere to the Pontificate. He will have enough to do to fulfil all the promises he has made, for many of them are contradictory; but he is Pope now, and we shall soon see what course he is going to take, and which are the parties to whom he has promised in good earnest. At any rate it is evident that he has had very zealous friends in the College, which is attributed to the fact that he himself has always been a true and devoted friend, and that therefore he found good friends when he needed them. Our countrymen are all rejoiced at his election, for there are many Florentines here who are very intimate with him; and his Eminence of Volterra told me to-day that there had not been a Pope for many years from whom our republic had reason to hope so much as from Julius II., provided they knew how to accommodate themselves to the times. A number of Florentines have begged me to write to you that the appointing of only five deputies to congratulate Pius III. on his election had caused everybody to believe that Florence was not well pleased at his election to the Pontificate; and therefore they suggested most humbly to your Lordships to revise the appointment and to send six, as in the case of Alexander VI. and Sixtus IV.

From the French camp and from the Spaniards nothing more has been heard than what I have written to your Lordships; and as the camp is broken up, we shall have no further advices from there. Giovanpaolo and Bartolommeo d’ Alviano must be a little beyond where they were to have passed the first night after leaving Rome. Nothing further has been done with regard to the engagement of Giovanpaolo; nor was that  letter of exchange ever drawn upon your Lordships which his friends wanted for his payment. From which I draw the favorable inference that the Cardinal d’Amboise no longer fears Giovanpaolo as much as when he engaged him.

It is thought that the Orsini will cause your Archbishop to be made Cardinal, and that his archbishopric will fall into the hands of some Florentine prelate. I have heard more than one name suggested, and therefore do not mention any. I recommend myself to your Lordships, and think it would be apropos that you should with the utmost promptitude cause a letter to be sent to the newly elected Pontiff, so that I may present myself to him with due ceremony; and that, if such a letter is sent, I may be furnished with a copy, so that my address to him may correspond with your letter.

Valete!

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Rome,

1 November, 1503

Niccolo Machiavelli

4 November, 1503

Rome

LETTER VIII.

Magnificent Signori: —

My last letters were of the 1st, on which day I wrote four letters to your Lordships and sent them by the Martelli and the Del Bene, and therefore assume their safe arrival. Since then nothing new of any moment has occurred; and yet, as Carlo Martelli is going by post to Florence, I would not have him go without sending you this letter by him. Since the creation of the new Pope everything has been very quiet in this city; the troops of the Orsini have left, although we have not yet heard of their having passed Monte Ritondo, where they were to make their first halt; nor are they very numerous. In the same way, Gianpaolo Baglioni had also gone; it was in fact these troops who it was feared might sack the city. As I have already stated in my previous letters to your Lordships, the election of this Pope was almost unanimous; for with the exception of three or four Cardinals who themselves aspired to the Papacy, all the others supported him, and D’Amboise favored him without stint. It is said that the reason of this general support was that he had promised to each whatever they asked, and consequently it is thought that  the difficulty will be in the fulfilling of these promises. To the Duke Valentino, who has been of more service than any one else, it is said, he has promised to reinstate him in all his possessions in Romagna, and that he has given him Ostia as security, where the Duke keeps Mottino with two vessels of war. The Duke is lodged in that part of the papal palace called “the new rooms,” where he has some fifty of his retainers with him; it is not known whether he will depart or remain. Some say that he will go to Genoa, where he has most friends, and that from there he will go into Lombardy to raise troops, and that then he will move to Romagna. And this is very probable, for he has some two hundred thousand ducats or more in the hands of the Genoese merchants. Others say that he has no intentions of leaving Rome, and will await the coronation of the Pope, so as to be made Gonfalonier of the Church, in accordance with the promises made to him by Julius II.; and that by means of the reputation which this will give him he hopes to recover his states. Others again, who are no less sagacious, think that, inasmuch as the Pontiff had need of the Duke in his election, and having made him great promises therefor, he finds it advisable now to feed the Duke on hope; and they fear that, if the latter should not decide upon any other course than to remain in Rome, he may be kept there longer than may be agreeable to him; for the Pope’s innate hatred of him is notorious. And it is not to be supposed that Julius II. will so quickly have forgotten the ten years of exile which he had to endure under Pope Alexander VI. The Duke meantime allows himself to be carried away by his sanguine confidence, believing that the word of others is more to be relied upon than his own; and that the promise of a family alliance ought to be of some avail, for it is said that the marriage of Fabio Orsino with the sister of Borgia is definitely agreed upon; and also that the Duke’s daughter is to be married to the Little Prefect.

I cannot tell your Lordships anything more of the Duke’s affairs, nor can I make up my mind to any definite conclusions in relation to them; we must bide the time, which is the father of truth. I shall not attempt to tell your Lordships of all the engagements and promises made to the barons and cardinals, for they are just what each one asked for. Romolino is to have the Chancellorship of Justice, and Borgia that of Prisons; but it is not yet known whether they will really take possession of these offices. And as I have said above, it seems as though the Pope would be obliged to temporize with them all; but he cannot delay much longer to declare and make known whose friend he really means to be. Gianpaolo, as I anticipated from the first, is taking the route to Perugia with the consent of the Cardinal d’Amboise, and will ask permission of your Lordships to quarter a portion of his forces at Cortona; and the Cardinal d’Amboise has requested me to write to your Lordships to be pleased to grant the request. Up to the present moment the agreement with Gianpaolo is not ratified, as it has been impossible to transact any business with the Cardinal d’Amboise. By way of enabling him to pay the remainder of his obligation to Gianpaolo, that Cardinal has written a letter to your Lordships, asking you to pay him, and promising that the amount shall be credited you on your indebtedness to the king of France. D’Amboise justifies his course at length in that letter, which is signed and sealed by his own hand. Should your Lordships deem it prudent to make this payment to Baglioni, then you will be able to avail of his services, even if his engagement should not be concluded, which is quite possible, as he will have received six months’ pay at the expense of others; but we do not by any means despair of concluding his engagement.

The French troops are all encamped on the upper side of the Garigliano, and although they have captured certain towers in that direction held for the Spaniards, they are now occupied in constructing a bridge over the river. And although the enemy is on the opposite side of the river, yet they say that with the aid of their fleet they cannot be prevented from crossing the river. The letter that brings this news is of the 30th ultimo, and says that the French talk very confidently. Certain Pisan envoys have arrived here for the purpose of felicitating the new Pope upon his election; and his Eminence  of Volterra has arranged with the Pope that, when these envoys present themselves to address him, his Holiness is to say to them that it is his office to pacify Italy, and that inasmuch as Pisa by its revolt was the cause of the war, so he intends now to make her the means of peace by uniting her with Florence; and the Pope has promised to say this.

In my previous letter I wrote to your Lordships in relation to Citerna, and that the Cardinal Volterra had proposed that you should allow him to arrange with the Cardinal San Giorgio to obtain Citerna from him, so as to conceal in some way your possession of that fortress. I await your reply to that proposition. I think I shall present myself to his Holiness either to-day, or at the latest by to-morrow, and will inform your Lordships of the result.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Rome,

4 November, 1503

Niccolo Machiavelli

LETTER IX.

Magnificent Signori: —

I sent my last of the 4th to your Lordships by Carlo Martelli, and, believing that it must have reached you safely, I did not write again by the courier. Having informed you in that letter of all that has been done with regard to the engagement of Gianpaolo, and that the Cardinal d’Amboise had written a letter to your Lordships requesting you to pay the remainder of his obligation to Baglioni, I shall say no more on that subject, as nothing new has occurred since; and I shall wait here until called upon, when I shall reply in accordance with your instructions. I have now to inform your Lordships that I presented myself yesterday at the feet of the Pontiff and expressed to him in your name the pleasure which his promotion to the Pontificate had given you; and having explained the reasons of this satisfaction on your part, I offered to his Holiness all that the power of your republic could do for the glory and prosperity of his Pontificate. His Holiness seemed pleased at this offer, and showed himself most grateful for all that I had said to him; saying in reply, that he had always counted upon our republic, but now that his power and authority had been  so much increased, he desired to show his affection for her in every possible way, especially as being under the greatest obligations to his Eminence of Volterra, who had been in great measure instrumental in his election to the exalted dignity of the Pontificate. And thus after these customary ceremonies I took my leave. After that I received your Lordships’ letter of the 2d instant, in which you state that you have received the news of the election of the new Pope, and express surprise at not having had any letters from me. I think that you must have received immediately after writing to me four of my letters. It is not my fault that they have not reached you sooner, for the Del Bene gave me no notice of their despatching a courier on the night of the election. And I do not blame them, for they told me the next morning that they were under the impression that the letters which I had previously given them to forward contained the result of the election. Be that as it may, I think that your Lordships will be satisfied with my subsequent letters.

As yours of the 2d gave an account of the ruin of Romagna and of the disposition of the Venetians, as well as of the condition of things generally in that direction, his Eminence of Volterra was of the opinion that I ought immediately to communicate this information to the Pope, and the Cardinal d’Amboise was of the same opinion when he heard it. I therefore went to his Holiness and read him your letter. He said that Dionisio di Naldo, chief of the Valle di Lamona, rather supported the cause of the Duke Valentino than that of the Venetians, and that these matters would take a different shape when once his election to the Papacy was known; and that they had gone on thus because they had been ignorant of his election; but that he would speak to D’Amboise on the subject. After leaving his Holiness I spoke to their Eminences Ascanio, San Giorgio, and San Severino about it, and reminded them that it was not a question of the liberty of Tuscany, but of that of the Church; and that, if the Venetians were permitted to increase their power beyond what it was already, the Pope would end by being nothing more than the chaplain of the Venetians; and that it was their business to look to this matter, inasmuch as they might become heirs to the papal dignity; that we on our part had called their attention to it in time, and offered them what little assistance it was in our power to render.

These Cardinals showed that they felt the importance of the matter, and promised to do all that was possible. I also spoke to the Duke, and communicated the news to him, which seemed to me proper for the purpose of finding out how he felt on the subject, and whether there was anything to fear or to hope from him. When he heard of the affair of the Castellan of Imola and the attack of the Venetians upon Faenza, he became greatly excited and began to complain bitterly of your Lordships, saying that you had always been his enemies, and that it was of you and not of the Venetians that he had cause to complain. For with a hundred men you might have secured those states, but that you did not want to do it; but that he would manage so that you should be the first to repent of it. And now that Imola was lost to him, he would raise no more troops, nor risk losing what he had left for the sake of trying to recover what he had lost. That he would no longer be deluded by you, but would with his own hands turn over all that was left to him to the Venetians; and he believed that he would very soon see our republic ruined, and that then it would be his turn to laugh. As to the French, they would either lose the kingdom of Naples, or they would have their hands so full that they would not be able to render you any assistance. And then he went on speaking with great animosity and vehemence. I lacked neither matter nor words to answer him, and yet I thought it best to soothe him, and managed as adroitly as I could to break off the interview, which seemed to me to have lasted a thousand years.

I went again to see the Cardinals Volterra and Amboise, who were at table, and as they had been expecting me with the answer, I related to them precisely everything as it had occurred. D’Amboise was incensed at the language used by the Duke, and said: “God has never yet allowed any sin to go unpunished, and he certainly will not allow those of Cesar Borgia to pass.” In my letter of the 4th I mentioned to your Lordships the whereabouts of the Duke at the time, and the conjectures that were being made with regard to him. Since then we have seen that he has been gathering troops; and such of his ministers as I am acquainted with tell me that he intends going to Romagna at any rate, with all the troops he can collect. Now that the fortress of Imola is lost, and having seen the consequent anger of the Duke, I cannot say  whether he may not change his purpose; at any rate, I can give your Lordships no further information respecting him. His Eminence of Amboise and the other Cardinals who watch the affairs of Italy think that with regard to Romagna one of two things will have to be done; namely, either to restore that province to the Church, or to hand it over to the king of France. Whether or not they will succeed in this I cannot tell, but I believe they will leave nothing undone to bring it about; and I really see no other remedy myself.

Of the French and Spanish troops I have at this moment nothing else to tell you but what I have already said in my letter of the 4th, no further news having been received here in relation to them. The French here are very hopeful that their army has passed the Garigliano, for the river being narrow their artillery is able to damage the enemy on the opposite shore, and having command of the sea they would be able to send some armed vessels up the river, so that the Spaniards will not be able to show themselves and prevent the French from crossing to the other side; and once having accomplished the passage of the river, they think that all else will be easy for them. This seems to me quite probable, for Gonsalvo has always kept himself behind his intrenchments, and has never shown himself in the open field. More than this I cannot write to your Lordships, but the end will show all. For once the French are not in want of money, for the Del Bene tell me that they have still fifty thousand ducats in sacks in their house, and there is no other money in circulation here but ducats.

The Pope will assume the tiara on Sunday, the 8th; that is, two weeks from to-day.

Valete!

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Niccolo Machiavelli

7 November, 1503

Rome

LETTER X.

Magnificent Signori: —

I wrote the enclosed to your Lordships yesterday, but the post to Ferrara was despatched this morning without any notice to me, which I could not foresee. I shall remind these  merchants again that they must perform their duty; I shall certainly not fail in mine. After my interview with the Duke yesterday, when I left him in the state of excitement of which I have given an account to your Lordships, he sent for his Eminence of Volterra; and to-day he sent for him again, and in both interviews, and more particularly in the last, the Duke told him, after the usual complaints, that he had letters of the 4th according to which the Castellan of Imola had not been killed, but was prisoner, and that the citadel and the place still held out for him; that the Signor Ottaviano (da Campo Fregoso) had appeared before Imola with a large force, but had been repulsed. He said further that Dionisio di Naldo sustained his party, and that the Venetians had no troops of any account. His Eminence seemed to think that this news had somewhat revived the hopes of the Duke that he might yet be able to recover his states. He complains of the French and of everybody else, and yet he expects to be made General of the forces of the Church, and believes that he will be so nominated by the consistory that is to be held to-morrow. His Eminence told him that despair was idle, as it most frequently turns to the disadvantage of him who yields to it; and on the other hand he encouraged him and made him fair promises on the part of your Lordships. We must wait now and see what the consistory will do to-morrow, and whether the Duke will succeed in getting that command, and if not, what his next plans will be; of all which your Lordships shall be duly informed. I should be glad to be instructed how I am to bear myself towards the Duke in any event, and whether I am to keep him in hopes, and how. There is no other news stirring here.

I recommend myself to your Lordships.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Rome,

7 November, 1503

Niccolo Machiavelli

10 November, 1503

Rome

LETTER XI.

Magnificent Signori: —

My last, under cover to Rucellai, were of the 6th and 7th, and were forwarded by a courier despatched by the Bolognese. I gave you therein full account of the condition of the Duke’s  affairs, and of his expectations to be named General of the Holy Church at the first meeting of the consistory. This meeting took place yesterday, but according to what I hear, the subject of the Duke’s affairs was not touched, and the consistory confined itself exclusively to ecclesiastical affairs, and to the regulations that are usually made at the beginning of every new Pontificate. The war between France and Spain was also discussed, and the advantage which it would be for all Christendom if they could settle their differences; and it appears that the new Pope is disposed to aid in bringing about such a settlement, if he has it in his power. The Duke’s concerns therefore remain in the same uncertainty, and wise persons augur most unfavorably lest he should come to a bad end, although the new Pope has always been regarded as a man of entire good faith. The Duke has been raising men-at-arms here, and according to what some people have told me he has also sent into Lombardy to raise infantry, hoping to recover his states by means of these troops, and by the help of the reputation which he would derive from being Gonfalonier and General of the Holy Church. But having been disappointed in his hopes of being made Gonfalonier at the first consistory, I do not know whether he will change his plans, or whether he will persist in his efforts to obtain that appointment anyhow. I desire much to receive instructions from your Lordships as to what course I shall pursue with regard to the Duke. Here it is thought advisable to induce him to go to Florence, and to give him some guaranties for that purpose; but I know not whether your Lordships are of the same opinion.

His Eminence of Volterra and several other Cardinals have spoken to his Holiness in relation to the affairs of Romagna, and they think the Pope well disposed to prevent that province from falling into the hands of the Venetians; for after a good deal of discussion he said to them: “I have ever been the friend of the Venetians, and am so still, provided they make no unjust pretensions. But if they attempt to take what belongs to the Church I shall do the utmost in my power to prevent them, and will stir up all the princes of Christendom against them.” Our Cardinal thus feels assured that, so far as it depends on his Holiness, matters will go no further.

Letters from the French army inform the Cardinal d’Amboise that, having thrown a bridge over the Garigliano, a portion of  their forces crossed the river under protection of the artillery which they had on the bank of the river and on board of their vessels, and that the enemy had retreated with a portion of his artillery. The French intend now throwing two more bridges over the river, so as to secure their communications more effectually, by having both sides of the river occupied by the French. Sandricourt was the first to pass, and the Bailli d’Occan followed in the evening. Gonsalvo is about a mile distant, where he has thrown up some intrenchments. The French are resolved to fight and conquer, or to pursue him in case he should attempt to retreat. There is great rejoicing here amongst the French at this news; they seem to think that victory is theirs already. May God so direct things that all will be for the best!

Messer Bartolommeo d’ Alviano and the Orsini are at Alagna, and it is said that they are busy completing their companies there. The Cardinal d’Amboise, on receiving the news of the passage of the Garigliano, has requested his Eminence of Volterra to write to Gianpaolo Baglioni to start immediately with what forces he may have, and to proceed in the direction of the Abruzzi. He has ordered the Savelli to do the same; and has begged our Cardinal to write to your Lordships to have the remainder of the sum due to Baglioni ready, so that he may not be delayed on that account.

A messenger has arrived here from Messer Ambrogio di Landriano, saying that the great expenses of the camp have entirely exhausted his means, and although the time for further payments has not yet arrived, yet he demands money. We have given him fair words, but await your instructions as to what course we are to follow with regard to him. He represents the army to be thoroughly united and in the best spirits, and that they have twice offered battle to the Spaniards, who each time declined it. In addition to the other measures which the Cardinal d’Amboise has taken on the receipt of the above news, he has written to the commanders to make publicly known to those Sicilian lords who adhere to the Spanish side, that they will be pardoned if even now they will join the French.

D’Amboise has news this morning that several places in the Abruzzi have revolted, which makes him the more anxious that the Savelli and Baglioni should go there; and he renews  his request that I should write to your Lordships to take such measures that there shall be no delay on account of the nonpayment of the remainder of what is due to Gianpaolo. I believe that the ratification of his engagement, which should have been concluded ere this, will be promptly attended to. Nothing else of any interest.

I recommend myself to your Lordships.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Rome,

10 November, 1503

Niccolo Machiavelli

10 November, 1530

Rome

LETTER XII.

Magnificent Signori: —

I wrote to your Lordships this morning, and sent the letter under cover of his Eminence of Volterra; and it is quite possible that the bearer of this may also bring my previous one. I shall not repeat what I have written respecting the news from the Garigliano, nor shall I say anything touching the Duke, unless it be that I have understood from his people that he is much in earnest with his preparations to go to Romagna. It is quite possible he may take the route through Florence; and whilst I was making a visit to our Cardinal this evening, one of the Duke’s men came to ask his Eminence for a letter in his favor to your Lordships, so as to permit him to pass securely through Florence. We shall be on the lookout, and you shall be advised of his movements. To-day, at noon, I received your Lordships’ letters of the 3d, 4th, and 6th, the latter being the most important, as it contains the latest news respecting the condition of things in Romagna. I went immediately to the palace and found that his Eminence of Volterra was with the Pope; but as that letter seemed to me altogether such as might be communicated, and calculated to produce an impression, I sent it to the Cardinal by the hands of Messer Francesco del Castel del Rio, one of the Pope’s chief officers. After a little while the Cardinal came out and told me that the news had greatly moved the Pope, who would anyhow send a deputy to the Venetians; and desired me to speak with his Holiness to-morrow morning to the same effect. Having returned to my lodgings about the twenty-fourth hour, I received your letter per express of the  8th, which contained the particulars respecting Faenza. It was too late to go to the Pope, and the Cardinal did not deem it well to speak to his Holiness so many times on the same day of the same thing. But we shall present ourselves early to-morrow morning before his Holiness to execute the commission with which your letter charges me, and to find out as far as possible his intentions; which, so far as we can judge, make us believe that he is so far from favoring the Venetians that they will have to desist from their attempt if the authority of the Pope or of those who represent him can suffice for the purpose. But which of the lords who have possessions in that province he will favor, it is believed, he has not yet determined upon; and that he is somewhat undecided in his own mind upon this point, for the reasons which I have on a former occasion explained to your Lordships; particularly as the Pope is said to be a man who at the beginning of his Pontificate would think more of making a great display at his coronation than of taking any extraordinary trouble about other matters. Nevertheless, we shall not fail to sound him in every possible way; both for the purpose of arousing him against the usurpers of other people’s possessions, and also for the purpose of more fully understanding his designs, so that your Lordships may the better know what course to adopt in the events that may occur.

I commend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Rome,

10 November, 1530

Niccolo Machiavelli

10 November, 1503

Rome

LETTER XIII.

Magnificent Signori: —

By my two letters of to-day I have informed your Lordships that the Duke is putting his troops in order for his departure to Romagna; and how he has obtained letters from his Eminence the Cardinal Volterra, from the Cardinal d’Amboise, and from the Pope, in his favor, and directed to your Lordships. I write the present at the suggestion of the Duke, to let your Lordships know that he has sent one of his own officers to you for the purpose of obtaining a safe-conduct from your Lordships, in accordance with the form herewith enclosed. I have been  requested to recommend this matter to your Lordships, and to beg you to expedite it promptly. The person who has spoken in the Duke’s name says that his Excellency is in good spirits, and hopes, provided your Lordships do not become discouraged, very soon to recover his places from the hands of the Venetians, and to prevent them from executing their designs; as he has still a considerable amount of money left.

Bene valete!

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secretary.

Rome,

10 November, 1503

Niccolo Machiavelli

11 November, 1503

Rome

LETTER XIV.

Magnificent Signori: —

By my last of yesterday I notified your Lordships of the receipt of your letter of the 8th, per express, and stated the reasons why I had delayed until this morning to communicate it to the Pope. His Holiness being indisposed, it was with difficulty that I could explain everything to him; nevertheless, he manifested great displeasure at the conduct of the Venetians, and if he had at this moment a strong force at his command, he would perhaps take things differently; for the present, he intends sending a deputy to Venice. His Holiness will not decide upon the matter by himself, nor will he consult the whole College, but only a few of the Cardinals of each order; for he considers such a decision as a grave matter, because of the consequences that may result from it. He says he will have to deliberate upon this through to-morrow. But so far as seemed to him well, he would now make show to believe that the Venetians in their conduct have been actuated by hatred of the Duke, or by some other special reason, and not by a desire to seize upon the states of the Church, of which his Holiness, as their immediate lord, intends always to keep the control in his own hands, so that he may dispose of them according to his judgment and the dictates of justice. And if such be the case, then it will be well indeed; but if not, then his Holiness will resort to the strongest measures, and will call upon all the other princes for aid against them, for he is determined not to let this matter pass lightly. His Holiness  says that he intends also to write to Ferrara and Bologna, and will here speak with the Cardinal of Este and the Protonotario Bentivogli on the subject. And by way of an immediate remedy for the state of things made known to him by your letter of the 6th, he has despatched a brother of Messer Francesco da Castel del Rio, and a Messer Baldassare Biascia, who are to seek Dionisio di Naldo, and are to endeavor, by even the largest promises, to bring him back to his allegiance to the Church. They are also to try and influence the other populations of that province to place themselves in the hands of the Pope, if they wish to escape from imminent perils, and put an end to all factions. And having been informed that the mere credit of his election had saved Fano, it seemed to him that he had already done not a little, and was therefore the more hopeful as to the rest. He told me also that the Venetians had already sent troops and banners into Fano, although they pretended that their object was to preserve it for the Church.

The Pope, moreover, urges your Lordships to do your utmost to save these states from falling into any other hands, no matter whose; and to advise and to labor to induce them to submit themselves to the Sovereign Pontiff, so that he may dispose of them according to the will of God and justice. It has been represented to his Holiness what you have already done up to the present time, and how honestly and frankly you have acted; but that the condition of your republic would not permit you to do more, and that it was necessary for his Holiness himself to oppose the attempts of the Venetians, etc., etc. This was the only conclusion we could arrive at.

I shall endeavor to urge the sending of this deputy to Venice, and we shall then see what results have been achieved by the mission to Dionisio di Naldo. No efforts are spared here to try and stir up his Holiness against the Venetians, in accordance with your Lordships’ views, “and his Eminence of Volterra does his duty to his country without reserve,” and does not cease to press D’Amboise and all the other Cardinals who have any influence with his Holiness; they all yield readily to his requests, both with an eye to their own interests and to those of the Church. The Cardinal d’Amboise particularly is most zealous, but promises for the present neither men nor  any other assistance except letters. He hopes for the success of the French, or that possibly some arrangement may be effected with the Emperor and the Archduke, that may shape matters according to his views, and more especially this affair of Venice.

Your Lordships will see from the above what effect has been produced by the information given in your letters of the 6th and 8th, and repeated afterwards on the 9th, of which I received the copy to-day. And to enable your Lordships the better to understand what course the Pope is likely to take, or what assistance you may count upon receiving from him against the projects of the Venetians, I will repeat what I have already written in several previous despatches to your Lordships. Whoever examines the present state of things at Rome will find that all the important affairs of the day centre here. The first and most important of these is the difference between France and Spain; the second is the affair of Romagna; after that come those of the factions of the Roman barons, and of the Duke Valentino. The Pope finds himself in the midst of these broils, and although he was elected to this dignity by great favor and by his reputation, yet as he has occupied the papal chair but for a short time, and having as yet neither troops nor money, and being under obligations to everybody for his election and for the general support he has received, he cannot as yet take a decided part in anything; and therefore he is obliged rather to pretend neutrality until the changes of time and things oblige him to declare himself, or until he is so firm in his seat that he may favor one or the other party, and engage in any enterprise he may please.

The facts prove the truth of this; for to begin with the most important affair, his Holiness passes for being French by natural affection, yet in his dealings with Spain he bears himself in such wise that they have no reason to complain of him. Still he does not go so far in this that France could take umbrage at it, and circumstances cause both parties to excuse him. In the affair of Romagna, the Venetians on the one hand aggravate him, and on the other hand you cry out; so that it is natural that his Holiness should be harassed by it, for he is a man of spirit, who desires that the Church shall increase and not diminish under his Pontificate. And yet your Lordships have seen above how he controls himself, and how on the one  hand he accepts the excuses of the Venetians, feigning to believe that they are influenced in their conduct by their hatred of the Duke, and not by any desire to injure the Church, whilst on the other hand he manifests to your Lordships his dissatisfaction with the conduct of the Venetians, and takes all the precautions and measures which in reality he is able to do at present. As to the barons, it is easy for the Pope to manage them, as the chiefs of the factions are not here; the Orsini being represented here by the Archbishop of Florence and by the Signor Giulio, and the Colonnese by their own Cardinal and certain individuals of no importance. There only remains then the Duke Valentino, for whom it is believed that his Holiness has a natural aversion; and yet he manages him for two reasons. The first, because he wishes to keep his word with him, of which it is claimed that the Pope is the most tenacious observer; and because of his obligations to him on account of his election, which he owes in great part to the Duke. The other is because, the Pope being still without troops, the Duke is better able than any one else to offer resistance to the Venetians; and for that reason the Pope urges his departure, and has addressed briefs to your Lordships, soliciting free passage and safe-conduct for the Duke, and also favors his cause in other ways. Although I have indicated all this in my previous despatches, yet it seems to me necessary to explain it more fully at this time, for I feel the importance that you should know the Pope’s intentions, and what he would and could do, and what he desires that you should do; so that your Lordships may fully understand him, and not hope for anything more from here. And that it behooves your Lordships to bethink yourselves of other means, either by supporting the Duke, or by such measures as you may have in your power. You may assume that the Pope will have to be satisfied with things as they are, and with whatever course the affairs of Romagna may take, provided that that promise does not slip from the hands of the Church or its vicars.

The Duke sent for me to-day, and I found him in a very different mood from what he was the last time, as I wrote you in my letters of the 6th and 7th. He said many things to me, which being reduced to one amount to this: that we must think no more of the past, but only of the common good, and  strive to prevent the Venetians from making themselves masters of Romagna. He told me that the Pope had promised to aid him, and had written briefs for that purpose; and that your Lordships should also think of giving him your support, and that you might in return count upon him for anything. I answered in a general way, and assured him that he might rely upon your Lordships.

After that I had a long conversation with Messer Alessandro di Francia, who told me that they would probably despatch a courier to-night, with the Pope’s brief and other letters that have been written by the Cardinal Volterra and myself to your Lordships in relation to the safe-conduct, which they were confident of obtaining. He told me further that the Duke hesitated as to the course he should take, and did not know whether he should go by land with his troops, which number about four hundred horse and about as many infantry, or whether he should let his troops go by land whilst he would go by sea to Livorno, and then join his troops on Florentine territory, where he could meet some of your citizens and conclude his arrangements with you; but that he did not want to be delayed, and therefore desired to find the articles of agreement all duly prepared, so that he might have nothing to do but merely to sign them. He desired that you should write to Livorno, so as to insure him a proper reception in case he should take that route. I replied that I would write to your Lordships, and gave him good hope. Your Lordships can now think of all this, and consult and resolve and prepare yourselves as to the manner in which you will act with regard to the Duke. Messer Alessandro told me that the Duke would send some one to Florence to digest and draw up the agreement with you, and that he would not like to send any one of little authority; at the same time he could not with safety send a personage of great authority, but so soon as he should be in position to do so, he would send such a person.

The letters which your Lordships have sent for the Pope have been presented to him, and he offers his thanks, etc., etc. I again beg to refer to my despatch of yesterday.

Valete!

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Rome,

11 November, 1503

Niccolo Machiavelli

12 November, 1503

Rome

LETTER XV.

Magnificent Signori: —

The enclosed was written yesterday, but not having up to the present moment found an opportunity of sending it by the extra courier, I deem it proper, by way of not keeping your Lordships waiting any longer for a reply to yours of the 8th, and because it contains many things of importance respecting the Duke, to send this express by the hands of Giovanni Pandolfini. Your Lordships will please pay him the usual price, as I have so promised him.

Valete!

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Rome,

12 November, 1503

Niccolo Machiavelli

13 November, 1503

Rome

LETTER XVI.

Magnificent Signori: —

Yesterday I wrote to your Lordships per express, and despatched it with my letter of the 11th through the hands of the Pandolfini, in reply to yours of the 8th, which came also per express. You will have seen from mine the determination of the Pope on the subject of the affairs of Romagna, and all that can be said of his Holiness at this moment. You will also have learned from it the projects of the Duke, who is occupied meanwhile in raising both infantry and cavalry with which to pursue his march into Romagna; and I believe that he delays in great part for the purpose of knowing your decision. For here we can neither treat with him nor do anything else, because we do not know what your Lordships’ disposition or determination in the matter may be. I have several times asked you for your views, but being still without any reply we are completely at a loss what to do.

As I have explained in former letters to your Lordships, the Pope for the moment favors the Duke, for he feels himself bound by the promises which he has made to him, and also from his desire not to let those places fall into the hands of the Venetians. His Holiness seems resolved to do everything in his power to prevent them from being swallowed up by the  Venetians. I believe he is conferring to-day with some eight or ten of those Cardinals who have the honor of the Church most at heart, to determine about sending an envoy to Venice, to which I have referred in my letter of the 11th. It seems that his Holiness has no doubts as to getting those places back that have been taken by the Venetians, who, he thinks, will consent to anything. His advisers urge him by all means to try and get possession of them, demonstrating to him that he can afterwards dispose of them according to the demands of honesty and justice, etc., etc.

I have conferred to-day with his Eminence of Volterra respecting your Lordships’ reply on the subject of Citerna. He is constantly after San Giorgio, trying to bring the matter to a conclusion; our Cardinal thought that he would be able to effect an even exchange with San Giorgio, by giving him one of his fortresses for Citerna, but San Giorgio declines such an exchange, and demands two hundred ducats, saying that he has such an offer from some one else. Our Cardinal would not like that such an expense should be incurred, and yet he does not know how it can be avoided, if it is really desired by your Lordships to have Citerna, for we may lose the chance altogether. San Giorgio has given him to understand that, unless we decide to-day or to-morrow to take it on those terms, he will go to the feet of his Holiness, and make known to him that Citerna, which fell to him by lot, has been occupied by the Florentines, and make this a subject of complaint. The negotiations are therefore continued, and we shall take such a course as his Eminence may deem best so as to quiet the matter. For, having to reprove others for attempting to take what does not belong to them, it behooves us to avoid all occasions for incurring reproof for the same thing in our turn.

Yesterday evening, Pope Julius II. took formal possession of the Castel San Angelo with all due solemnity, and has appointed the Bishop of Sinigaglia as his Castellan. The former Castellan has left according to report, with the promise of being made Cardinal.

By my letter of the 10th, I informed your Lordships of the report of the passage of the Garigliano by the French; but since then we have no particulars. True, letters were received last night by some of the Colonnese here, that some four thousand French had crossed the river, and that Gonsalvo, who  was about a mile distant with his army, could not prevent them, owing to the swollen state of certain water-courses between himself and the French. But that, the waters having subsided, Gonsalvo charged upon the French, who, having no cavalry, were dislodged from a bastion which they had constructed, and were completely routed. A portion of them were killed, and a portion driven into the river and drowned. This news was spread by the Colonnese, and although it is now the twenty-third hour, yet up to the present it is not confirmed. The French here do not believe it, and say that their infantry which had crossed the Garigliano was protected by their artillery, which they had placed on the river-bank and on board of vessels, so that the Spaniards could not attack them. We must wait for time to clear up this matter, and when the truth is known your Lordships shall be advised.

It is now one o’clock at night, and up to this moment the above news has neither been confirmed nor contradicted. The Cardinals did not meet with the Pope to-day to discuss the affairs of Romagna, but I believe they will do so to-morrow. I send this through the hands of P. del Bene, who tells me that he may possibly despatch a courier to night.

Valete!

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Rome,

13 November, 1503

Niccolo Machiavelli

14 November, 1503

Rome

LETTER XVII.

Magnificent Signori: —

I reported to you yesterday all that had taken place here up to that time, and sent my letter this morning through the hands of P. del Bene. I must now inform your Lordships “that yesterday and to-day the Pope has conferred with the Cardinals Amboise and Volterra, the Spanish Cardinals, the Cardinal of Ferrara, and the Duke Valentino, in relation to the departure of the last. It was definitely concluded that he is to go in two or three days by water to Porto Venere or to Spezzia, and from there by the Garfagnana to Ferrara; and that his troops, which are said to amount to three hundred light cavalry, one hundred men-at-arms, and four hundred infantry,  are to go by land to Romagna through Tuscany. They are to unite at Imola, which place, it is said, still holds for the Duke, and where he will join them; and then the Duke will attempt from there to recover his states by means of his own troops, and those which he counts upon receiving from your Lordships, from the Cardinal d’Amboise, from Ferrara, and from the Pope. And speaking of these auxiliaries, the Cardinal Volterra told me that the Pope supplied the Duke with briefs and patents at discretion, but with nothing more. The Cardinal d’Amboise has promised that Montison shall come to him with at least fifty lances; it is, however, not yet known whether they are of those who have already been in the Duke’s service. The Cardinal of Este says that he believes that the Duke’s father will not fail him.” Volterra says that he would have been glad to have been informed of your views and intentions as regards this matter, and wonders that you have never written to him how he is to bear himself towards the Duke.

Being obliged to say something in the name of your Lordships, he represented that you were ready to do anything in your power to prevent those cities from falling into the hands of the Venetians, and that, if you were of opinion that the way to do so would be to help the Duke, he had not the least doubt that you would lend him every assistance. But that, before coming to that point, it was necessary for them to see whether the aid of your Lordships added to the Duke’s forces would suffice for the desired object; and that therefore it would be well for the Duke to send some one to Florence for the purpose of explaining these things, and to have a full understanding. “What causes the Cardinal Volterra to be in doubt as to the affairs of the Duke, besides not knowing the views of your Lordships, is, that he is not clear himself whether it would be desirable for our republic to have the Duke for a neighbor, and master of those three or four cities. For if we could always be sure of him as a friend, and not have reason to doubt and mistrust him, it might be of the greatest advantage to reinstate him in his possessions. But knowing the Duke’s dangerous character, he doubted much whether you would be able to keep him your friend, which would expose us to the same risk of having the Venetians become masters of those cities. His Eminence, moreover, sees that your Lordships are  under some obligations to those who hold those places, and that their populations have declared themselves the enemies of the Duke, so that there is reason to fear lest by supporting the Duke the Venetians may be enabled the sooner to attain the object of their desires. All these things keep the Cardinal Volterra in a state of indecision.” It has seemed to me proper to report the substance of this conversation to your Lordships, so that you may appreciate the merits of the case with your habitual sagacity. “At the conference between the Pope and the Cardinals there was no one to represent the Bentivogli of Bologna; but the Duke confidently expects every assistance from them. The conference separated with the understanding that the Duke should take the route indicated, that the Cardinal Este should write to Ferrara to solicit aid, that the Cardinal d’Amboise should write to Montison in accordance with the above decision, and that the Cardinal Volterra should explain everything to your Lordships. Thus the matter rests, and according to the above understanding the Duke is to leave immediately. But already Volterra begins to doubt whether the Duke will start, for he seems to have perceived a change in him, and seems to think him irresolute, suspicious, and unstable in all his conclusions.” This may be the result of his natural character, or because the blows of fortune, which he is not accustomed to bear, have stunned and confounded him. Two evenings ago, whilst in that part of the palace where the Duke Valentino is lodged, the deputies from Bologna arrived, and with them the Protonotario Bentivogli. They all went into the Duke’s apartment, where they remained more than an hour.

Thinking that they might possibly have formed some agreement together, I went to-day to see the Protonotario Bentivogli under pretence of making him a visit; and having, after some general conversation, broached the subject of the Duke’s affairs, he said to me that they had come to see the Duke at his special request, who had told them that he would relieve them of the obligations they had entered into with him the year before. Having come to that point, and having called a notary to draw up the agreement, the Duke asked in return for the cancelling of these obligations certain specified assistance in his affairs of Romagna. The Bolognese deputies would not agree to this, having no authority to that effect, whereupon the Duke also  declined to annul their obligations, and thus the matter remained in suspense.

The Protonotario added, that the Duke had not acted fairly in the matter, and that, instead of standing upon his rights, he should have shown himself liberal in cancelling these obligations, on account of which he would anyhow never receive a single penny from them. He told me furthermore that, having conversed with the Cardinal Herina on the subject, the latter had said to him that the Duke seemed to him to have lost his wits, for he appeared not to know himself what he wanted, and that he was confused and irresolute. To my question whether he would sustain the Duke in any way, the Protonotario answered, that the entrance of the Venetians into Romagna was of such importance, that, if the only way of preventing it was to support the Duke, he believed that his father and his government would give him their support, and do whatever else they could in the matter. More than this I did not learn from him, but I have deemed it not amiss to communicate this conversation to your Lordships.

From the armies we hear that the Spaniards in full force attacked such of the French as had crossed the river, but that the latter under protection of their artillery defended themselves bravely, and that although both sides had lost a good many men, yet the French remained masters of their position and of the entire river; that they were busy constructing two more bridges, so as to pass the river with the bulk of their forces, under God’s favor.

There is nothing else of interest to communicate from here, unless it be that the Pope will assume the tiara next Sunday in St. Peter’s, and on the following Sunday in St. John Lateran, and that it will be a triumphant solemnity.

With all this the plague is on the increase, for the weather and the neglect of all precautions favor its development, so that Rome has become a most melancholy residence.

I recommend myself to God and to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Rome,

14 November, 1503

Niccolo Machiavelli

16 November, 1503

Rome

LETTER XVIII.

Magnificent Signori: —

The enclosed was written yesterday, but as no courier has been despatched since then, I could not send it, nor do I know now when it will go, as there is no regular postal service. I have to inform your Lordships that it was not until to-day that the Pope assembled the Cardinals of Naples, Amboise, Capaccio, Lisbon, Aragon, San Giorgio, Volterra, and three or four others of the oldest Cardinals, who have the honor of the Church and ecclesiastical liberty most at heart. They deliberated a long while on the affairs of Romagna, and resolved to depute some one to Venice. Their choice fell upon Angelo Leonino, Bishop of Tivoli, who will leave immediately with instructions to induce the government of Venice to disarm, and to restore to the hands of the Pope what they have wrongfully taken from him. They have decided also to send another deputy into Romagna, who should be some person of distinction. They wanted to appoint the Bishop of Ragusa to this mission, but, as they could not agree about it, the appointment was conferred on the Cardinal Volterra. He has gone this evening to have another conference with his Holiness; but it is too late for me to wait and learn the result. His instructions will be to do all he can to quiet these disturbances, to try to restore tranquillity, and to re-establish things as far as possible for the advantage of the Church. Everything tends to show that Julius II. is most anxious to save these states for the Church, and there is no lack of persons here who encourage him incessantly in this desire. His Eminence of Volterra is wide awake on this subject, as well as on all other matters that concern the general welfare of our republic. He does not cease being at the feet of his Holiness to maintain and dispose him still more favorably to Florence, to which he is already well inclined. He also solicits the other Cardinals, pointing out to them the ambition of the Venetians, the dangers to which their own liberties are exposed, and in fact he does all that your Lordships could suggest or ask of him. I deem it but right to bear witness to this, so that your Lordships may know how zealous and distinguished an advocate you have at this court, and that you may appreciate deservingly the great  virtues of his Eminence, and his love and entire devotion to his country.

I must not omit to inform your Lordships that I have understood that the Pope complained bitterly to the Venetian ambassador of the proceedings of his government, telling him that he never could have believed that they had so little regard for the affection which he had always shown their country as to seek to dishonor and dismember the Church under his Pontificate; and that, if they persevered in that conduct, he would break all bonds of friendship, and submit to general ruin rather than suffer the Church to be dishonored and dismembered, and that he would arouse the whole world against them. To all which, it is said, the Venetian ambassador replied in the mildest manner, etc., etc.

I learn from Monsignor di Bentivogli, who says that he has it direct from the Venetian envoy, that the Senate had appointed eight ambassadors who were to come here and make their submission to his Holiness. He thinks the Venetian Senate did this, knowing that such incense and demonstrations of honor are an article greatly prized by Julius II., which they ought not to omit to employ. I have deemed it well to mention this to your Lordships, so that, if true, you may not allow yourselves to be outdone in these sort of demonstrations. And the sooner you send such ambassadors the more welcome will they be, and the more advantages you will derive from it; for his Eminence of Volterra cannot play two parts at once, except at the cost of one or the other, and therefore it will be well to anticipate the others.

The news from the French camp is that they are entirely masters of the Garigliano, and have no fears of being driven from their positions; but they have not advanced beyond that, owing to the inundations that extend over many miles of country. Gonsalvo is said to have retreated to a position between Sessa and Capua.

Gianpaolo Baglioni writes that he cannot start with his troops because he has not yet received the money from Florence, and says that he has sent some one to you on that account. It is said that the Cardinal d’Amboise is a little vexed at this, and that it has caused him to change the destination of Baglioni, whom he intends now to send into camp, and not to the Abruzzi, as had been decided the other day. It  is also said that, inasmuch as Bartolommeo di Alviano was to have joined the Spaniards, the French also desire to have the credit of receiving fresh troops; although according to report Bartolommeo and the Orsini have taken but few troops there, and are enlisting men all the time. I learn that the said Bartolommeo has twenty-five men-at-arms at Viterbo, who are waiting for money before moving forward. And thus on both sides the attack and the defence proceed but slowly.

Of the Duke Valentino I have nothing more to report, except that his troops are still here, nor has he started himself, and thus the matter remains just as it was two days ago; but they still give out that they will start in two or three days. The report has been spread throughout all Rome that the Duke is going to Florence to be your general. Similar stories are constantly put in circulation here.

I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Rome,

16 November, 1503

P. S. — I have forgotten to say that the last letters I have from your Lordships are of the 8th. The plague is doing its duty well, and spares neither the houses of the Cardinals nor any others where it can find victims, and yet no one here makes any account of it. Iterum valete!

Niccolo Machiavelli

18 November, 1503

Rome

LETTER XIX.

Magnificent Signori: —

Not having been able to send the two enclosures of the 14th and 16th sooner, they will now go at same time with this. I cannot oblige the merchants to do other than what they please, and cannot therefore promise you more regular advices from here; but whenever there is any danger of my letters being delayed too long, I shall do as in the present case, and send them in some other way by paying for them. Yesterday at an early hour came your Lordships’ letters of the 13th and 14th; those of the 10th and 11th having reached me some four hours sooner. The last two require no reply, having been written when your Lordships were still uncertain as to an answer to  yours of the 8th; and in response to the other two, I have also but little to say, as you have received mine of the 12th, per express, which fully informs you of the state of things here, and what you may hope for in the way of assistance. I refer again to that letter, and more especially to what I have written in the enclosed. His Eminence of Volterra is nevertheless of opinion that I should present myself again at the feet of the Pope, and read to him your instructions, so as to learn what his Holiness may now have to say; and also to communicate to him your views in relation to the Duke’s affairs, and to sound him as regards his opinion of the whole business.

Efforts were made to procure me an audience, which, however, I did not get until three o’clock yesterday evening, when I read to the Holy Father those parts of your letters which it was proper he should know. When I came to that part where you say that Messer Ottaviano da Campo Fregoso had taken the field with cavalry and infantry sent by the Duke of Urbino, his Holiness became very angry, and said, “The Duke will be here in a couple of days, when I will shut him up in the Castel San Angelo.” He then listened with great attention to the remainder of your letter; and after having heard it all he said that he felt obliged to your Lordships for reminding him of what was for the honor of the Church, and for your efforts, etc., etc.; and that for his part he had done and would continue to do his utmost, as was well known to his Eminence of Volterra; that he had sent some one to Venice to let them know his intentions, and that he would also send some one of distinction to Romagna to reanimate the lords and the people of that province, and to induce those who had strayed from their allegiance to him to return. I replied to his Holiness in what I thought suitable terms, but obtained no further information from him; it is evident, however, that he does all he can, as I have mentioned in my previous letters. I then touched upon the affairs of the Duke Valentino, “and explained to his Holiness why your Lordships had not granted the desired safe-conduct to the Duke; to which he replied that it was well, and that he agreed with you entirely,” and lifted up his head in a very significant manner. From this it will be seen what before may have been doubted, that his Holiness thought it an eternity before he could get rid of the Duke; and yet he wanted him to go away satisfied, and so as not to  afford him grounds for complaining of the non-observance of the pledges on the part of the Pope; as it might still happen that he might wish to avail himself of the Duke for his own purposes in the affairs of Romagna; and thus he would not close the door to his being able to make use of the Duke. But that he cared nothing about what you or any third party might do against the Duke.

“Looking now at all the Pope’s actions as I have explained to your Lordships in previous letters, we see that he intends getting those cities into his hands, and that by sending an envoy to the Venetians he hopes to obtain their consent, etc., etc. And if that plan does not succeed, he will try and get possession of them through some one else, who will hold them for the time. And perhaps he thinks that the Duke, upon finding himself abandoned by you, will cede to him that part of Romagna which he still retains; and that, once having possession of those towns, the others will easily follow.” Such I believe to be the Pontiff’s conduct and intentions, as your Lordships will see; and whatever resistance you make to the Venetians will naturally be most welcome to his Holiness.

Your Lordships will learn from the enclosed of the 14th what has been decided upon by the Pope and the Duke, and those other Cardinals; all of which was agreed upon and arranged, as the result has shown since then, “to feed the Duke with hopes and to urge his departure, which the Pope evidently desires.”

When the Duke learned through letters from Florence that your Lordships had not granted the desired safe-conduct for him, he sent for me; and after my audience with the Pope I went to him. His Excellency complained of your refusing him the safe-conduct, and said that he had already sent his cavalry, supposing that they would be admitted on Florentine territory, and that he intended to start himself in the expectation that the safe-conduct would be sent to him anyhow, as he could not have anticipated a refusal, and could not understand your fearing on the one hand lest those towns should fall into the hands of the Venetians, and on the other hand your closing the way to all succor; that perchance he might take a different course, which might be injurious to your Lordships; and that although he was aware of the danger of his coming to an arrangement with the Venetians, yet the force of circumstances might cause  him to do so; for he would obtain great advantages from them, which he was disposed to accept to some extent, and which would be a mortal injury to you. I replied to the Duke, that the safe-conduct was not absolutely refused, and that he had been given to understand that your Lordships wanted to know on what footing you really were with him, and to settle that point first, and then to establish such relations of friendship as should properly exist between two states that desire to be on good terms and to act in good faith towards each other; that your Lordships were not in the habit of rashly or hastily entering into anything, and did not intend to begin doing so now, and therefore it would be well for him to send some experienced person, who was fully informed as to his intentions, to Florence, and I doubted not that your Lordships would do what was for the advantage of our republic and her friends. The Duke replied that he had sent his troops forward, and was himself on the point of going by water, and that he had wished before his departure to have a clear understanding of what he might hope for from your Lordships. To which I answered, that I would at once write to your Lordships this morning and give you notice of his Excellency’s having started his troops, and of his having sent an envoy to you to ask you to admit his troops on Florentine territory; that this envoy would meantime arrive in Florence, and would negotiate direct with your Lordships; and that I had not a doubt but that some satisfactory arrangement would be effected, of which his envoy might advise his Excellency wherever he might be. The Duke seemed in a measure satisfied, but answered that if your Lordships hesitated or dealt unfairly with him, which would become manifest within four or five days, the time necessary for his envoy to come to Florence and write, he would make terms with the Venetians and with the Devil himself; or he would go and join the Pisans, and would devote all his money, his power, and what allies remained to him to injure our republic. The person whom the Duke has selected for the mission to your Lordships is a certain Messer Vanno, the Duke’s fosterbrother, who was to have started this morning; but it is now the eighteenth hour, and I have not yet heard of his departure; it is possible that the Duke may have changed his purpose. His Excellency agreed also with the Cardinal d’Amboise to leave this morning for Spezzia, according to the original plan.  He intended to take with him on board, and in vessels of his own, some five hundred men selected from amongst his gentlemen followers and his infantry; but up to the present moment nothing has been heard of his departure. Possibly he may wish to wait until he is in some measure assured of your Lordships’ intentions.

“Your Lordships will observe that my answers to the Duke were only intended to give some little encouragement to his hopes, so that he might have no excuse for remaining here any longer, and so that the Pope, in his desire to get rid of him, might not oblige you to give the Duke the asked for safe-conduct. When the Duke’s envoy arrives in Florence, your Lordships need not pay much attention to him, and may act in the matter as may seem best to you; reflecting whether it be more important to break off or to conclude the negotiation. The Duke’s cavalry that have gone towards Florence, under command of Carlo Baglioni, number one hundred men-at-arms and two hundred and fifty light-horse. Your Lordships will take measures to find out their whereabouts, and should you deem it well that they should in a measure be disarmed, you can do so whenever you think proper; and when informed of your Lordships’ intentions, I shall act towards the Duke accordingly. I beg your Lordships will not fail to write me in case anything else should occur.”

Your letters are communicated to the Cardinal d’Amboise and the other Cardinals; and his Eminence of Volterra does all that is possible to stir up everybody, and to keep them on the lookout,as I have already mentioned in my enclosure of the 16th. And if everything here does not go on as you could wish, it will be the fault of circumstances, and not because the thing is not thought of or not urged.

“Respecting the security demanded by the Duke, D’Amboise says that you must act as best suits yourselves”; in relation to other matters, he complains much and shrugs his shoulders. Your Lordships’ letter of the 15th was received this morning, in reply to which nothing else occurs to me. The Citerna business is still delayed, for the reasons given in my letter of the 13th. I will endeavor to bring it to a speedy termination, and with the greatest possible advantage. Of the French army we have no further news, nor can we expect any so long as this weather continues. In consequence of the inundations around  the Garigliano, the Spaniards cannot attack the French, and the latter cannot advance.

The assumption of the tiara by the Pope is postponed until Sunday week. Pagolo Rucellai has given me to understand that the privilege of extracting saltpetre is within his control, and that if your Lordships desire any particular conditions in this matter, which he will be able to manage, he desires to be informed.

We are now at the twenty-first hour, and an hour and a half since I received your letter of the 15th, in which your Lordships point out to me the extremely difficult condition of the affairs of Romagna. But as I had a long interview with his Holiness on that subject yesterday, and as his Eminence of Volterra saw him also to-day, it has seemed to me best to defer until to-morrow to communicate to him the contents of your letter, so as not to weary his Holiness with that subject; the more so, as we do not believe that we shall obtain anything more from him. The Pope can do no more than to write and send agents, and all this he has done. I believe the Bishop of Ragusa will be sent to Romagna, and that he will start immediately.

I recommend myself to your Lordships.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Rome,

18 November, 1503

P. S. — I send this by the hands of Giovanni Pandolfini, who leaves at the twenty-second hour. Your Lordships will please pay him the customary compensation.

Niccolo Machiavelli

19 November, 1503

Rome

LETTER XX.

Magnificent Signori: —

I wrote yesterday and sent my letter per express, together with my others of the 14th and 16th, which will have informed your Lordships of all that has occurred here in connection with the Duke, who left here this evening. He has gone to Ostia to embark if the weather permits. It promises fair this morning, and may serve him as well as the French, who have been kept on the Garigliano only by the high water. These inundations  have obliged their army, as well as that of the Spaniards, to disperse and seek shelter in the neighboring hamlets and villages, leaving only guards in certain bastions which they have on the boundary of the territory occupied by them respectively. And if the weather clears, as it promises this morning, both sides will be able to take the field and pursue their object, — the one to try to advance, and the other to resist; of all of which your Lordships will be duly advised when we receive the news.

Butto return to the Duke Valentino. He is really gone, by the help of God, and to the great satisfaction of the whole country. He has gone to Ostia, as I have said above, having started his troops by land towards Florence, some two or three days ago. According to the Duke’s own account, these forces consist of about seven hundred horse; and when the weather suits he will embark with four hundred or five hundred more for Spezzia, as was agreed upon here, intending from there to follow the route indicated in my letter of the 14th. It is to be feared lest, being offended with your Lordships, the Duke may throw himself with his troops into Pisa, as he threatened to do at our last interview, of which I gave an account in my letter of yesterday. And what makes me apprehensive of this is, that the individual whom it was understood he was to send to Florence has never said one word to me about his passport for his safety, which I was to give him according to our understanding. And thence I fear that the Duke contemplates not to co-operate with your Lordships any longer. I shall try and find out thetruth of the matter, and will then advise you.

I informed your Lordships yesterday of the receipt of yours of the 15th, per express; and to-day I have received the copies forwarded on the 16th. With all my best efforts, however, it was not possible for me to see the Pope to-day; to-morrow, however, shall not pass without my seeing him anyhow; and I shall do what I can for the advantage of our republic, as well as for that of the Church, which is equally interested in the matter. Your Lordships’ letter was read to the Cardinal d’Amboise, and I noticed that these things afflict him very much. Nevertheless, he shrugs his shoulders and excuses himself, saying that there is no help for it at present. He promises, however, whether the result be peace or victory, and he counts confidently upon one or the other, to restore things to their former condition, and that your interests shall under all circumstances be secured;  more than this we cannot hope for from him. He understands the affairs of Romagna so well himself, that it offends him if any one attempts to recall them to his mind. And yet two days ago M. de Chaumont, Governor of Lombardy, sent him a letter which the French envoy at Venice had written to inform him of the disposition of the Venetians, and of their preparations against Romagna, and of their plans, which aimed at nothing less than, after having seized Romagna, to attack Florence, under pretence of recovering the one hundred and eighty thousand florins which they claim to be due them. By this aggression they hope to weaken and diminish the reputation of the king of France, by depriving him of the men and money which you supply him, and at the same time to humble Tuscany and increase their own territory. The Cardinal d’Amboise sent this letter to his Eminence of Volterra, who seemed pleased to have it, and appeared to take the matter seriously; but the only conclusion arrived at was, that we must wait to see what their fleet will do, upon which they count so largely, if the weather and the state of the sea do not hinder its advance.

I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Rome,

19 November, 1503

Niccolo Machiavelli

20 November, 1503

Rome

LETTER XXI.

Magnificent Signori: —

I shall write briefly to-day what has occurred since my despatch of the 18th, reserving further details for my next. And I do this so that your Lordships may, on the arrival of Messer Ennio, the Duke’s envoy and bearer of this, be more immediately informed of the state of things here. The Duke, as I have already informed you, left here yesterday morning for Ostia, and will embark there with some four or five hundred men for Spezzia. As the weather has improved, I believe he will sail to-night. His cavalry, consisting, according to his own account, of about seven hundred horse, he sent forward three days ago on the road to Tuscany. Now having done all this without any definite reply from your Lordships for our instruction,  on account of which I wrote you on the 18th, the Duke has sent the bearer of this, Messer Ennio, to your Lordships, who also brings a letter to you from the Cardinal Volterra “merely for the purpose of satisfying the Duke; for both the Pope and the Cardinal d’Amboise would take it ill if you were really to concede a safe-conduct to the Duke.” According to what they say, and the hints which they have thrown out, your Lordships may, if it suits you, act in accordance with their intentions and spirit, and may do so without any hesitation. And if circumstances have caused you to change your decision “the coming of the Duke’s envoy will afford you an excellent opportunity, of which your Lordships will avail with your habitual sagacity.” Your letter of the 15th and a similar one to the Pope of the 16th were submitted to his Holiness this morning. He was greatly affected by them, and said in a few words that, inasmuch as he had occupied the papal chair but a short time, he could not regulate this matter as he would desire; that for the present he would do what he could, but that hereafter he hoped to do a great deal more; that he would start the Bishop of Tivoli for Venice to-morrow, and within a couple of days he would send the Bishop of Ragusa to Romagna, who should take the route through Florence, with instructions to confer with your Lordships. Although his Holiness had resolved to await the answer of the Bishop, yet he intended to send an envoy to Venice before taking any other steps against them; but seeing their insolence now, he had resolved to convoke the ambassadors of all the nations, and to arouse them to the facts, and make his sentiments known to them, and lay before them his complaints of the outrages of the Venetians. And, in short, that he would leave nothing undone, and therefore he hoped your Lordships would continue your preparations for defence, and meantime he thanked you for what you had done thus far. His Eminence of Volterra replied with his habitual prudence, and I added such remarks as seemed to me proper; but more than the above we did not get from him. We shall not fail, as we have done hitherto, to remind his Holiness and the Cardinals of this business, as our duty demands, and shall continue to keep your Lordships fully advised of whatever takes place.

The Duke of Urbino came to Rome to-day. From the French army we have no further news; it is to be hoped that the  weather may continue clear, as it has begun yesterday and to-day, so that the army may continue its operations with greater ease.

Valete!

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Rome,

20 November, 1503

Niccolo Machiavelli

20 November, 1503

Rome

LETTER XXII.

Magnificent Signori: —

By the enclosed of yesterday I informed your Lordships of what had taken place here since my last of the 18th, and that I could not possibly present myself at the feet of his Holiness yesterday to communicate to him your confidential letter of the 15th, received on the 16th. I did so, however, this morning, in the presence of his Eminence of Volterra, and read your letter to his Holiness. After that the Cardinal added what he deemed proper, and by order of his Eminence I also said what the occasion required. His Holiness manifested great displeasure at the state of things, saying that he would leave nothing undone for the honor of the Church; that he had already sent a deputy to Romagna, but that he would send another of still higher authority, and had designated the Bishop of Ragusa to go there, and the Bishop of Tivoli to Venice, and that he would urge their prompt departure; and that although he had determined before going further to await the reply of the Venetians, so as to be more fully justified in his proceedings and more clearly informed as to their intentions, yet with the information which your Lordships’ letter gave him he felt justified in going somewhat further, and would address a circular to the princes and protest to their ambassadors here, and would no longer stand upon ceremonies with the Venetians. He then called his Eminence of Volterra, who was present, to witness as to his intentions, and charged me to encourage your Lordships by telling you that his Holiness would leave nothing undone for the liberty of the Church and the security of her friends, and of such as desired to live righteously; and that he ought to be excused if, in the beginning of his Pontificate, he did not show himself more active, but that it was because he was constrained  by necessity to act contrary to his nature, having neither troops nor money. He said further, that the Duke of Urbino would arrive in Rome this evening, and that he would take measures that the Venetians should not avail themselves of either his person or his name, nor of his territory or his troops.

We replied to his Holiness in a becoming manner, but obtained nothing more from him; nor can we hope for anything else at present, no matter what may occur. There is but one thing upon which any hopes can be founded, and that is the Pope’s choleric temper and his honorable character; for whilst the one will inflame him, the other will impel him to act against whoever attempts anything adverse to the honor of the Church under his Pontificate. Thus we see that the Venetians, knowing him, think to deceive him with fine promises, and to satisfy his natural character by pretending to desire to be faithful children to the Church; and that they want not only Romagna, but all their own dominions, to show obedience to the Holy Father. For we see that they have appointed eight ambassadors to present their submission to the Pontiff, which is a new thing for the Venetians to do, andwhich they have done from no other motive than the above. We see also that they were delighted at the election of Julius II., and that the embassy had been appointed to do him honor, and that they desire to have him for their father, protector, anddefender. In this way the Venetians endeavor to soothe him and to incline him favorably to their purpose; and are not ashamed to make demonstrations as though they were really the very slaves of the Pope, so as to be able afterwards to command all the others. It is thus these things are judged of here; and I desire to acquaint your Lordships with it, so that you may provide what remedies you can against all eventualities; and that you may consider whether it might not bewell for younot to allow yourselves to be outdone in humility and politeness, since in material force you cannot keep pace with these Venetians.

Messer Agapito and Messer Romolino, formerly officers of the Duke Valentino, but who have remained here, being unwilling to share the Duke’s ill fortune, have informed me that on his departure from Rome for Ostia the Duke directed Messer Ennio, Bishop of Veroli, and entirely devoted to the Duke, to proceed to Florence and to negotiate and conclude some favorable arrangement with your Lordships, in accordance with  the conversation which he had lately with me; and that for the security of Messer Ennio he wanted letters from me and a passport from the Cardinal Volterra. Having failed to find me yesterday, they wanted me now to see his Eminence, and to prepare such letters and passport as, when received, would permit Messer Ennio to start.

I called upon our Cardinal accordingly, and as it seemed desirable to us that this envoy should go to Florence, for the reasons given in my letter of the 18th, his Eminence wrote a letter to your Lordships, and gave a passport to Messer Ennio addressed to all the subjects and allies of your Lordships. And I also gave him a letter for you, containing in brief the same that I had said in my former letter and in this one, so that in case Messer Ennio should arrive before this reaches you, your Lordships may knowhow things are here; and may deliberate on the matter fully informed by what I have said in this as well as in my letter of the 18th. “All the favors that have been shown to the Duke by the Pope, the Cardinal d’Amboise, and by others here, had no other object than to have him go from here with God, and the sooner the better.”

Thus your Lordships are entirely free to decide, without regard, whatever may suit you best. And I repeat again, that if your Lordships should judge from some fresh reasons that it would be well to favor the Duke, etc., you may take that course, although the Pope would rather that you should give him a  kick. In short, the Duke’s situation is this. The disposition of the people here towards him is as I have just explained; he is himself at Ostia, waiting for suitable wind and weather to sail for Spezzia; he will have five vessels, and take some five hundred persons with him; and if he has not already left, he will probably leave to-night, wind and weather permitting. He has sent his troops by land towards Florence, but from the Siennese and Gianpaolo Baglioni he has no more pledges than he has from your Lordships, so that everybody here laughs at him. We shall see whither the winds will carry him, and where his troops will bring up, and then we shall also know what your Lordships will decide upon. The Duke of Urbino entered Rome this evening in great state; the Pope’s household and all the Cardinals went out to meet him; some persons here say that he will be made General of the forces of the Holy Church.

Of the French army I have nothing to report, but refer your Lordships to the enclosed letters; and as the weather still continues fair, it is believed that they will advance, and that they will not be checked in their progress.

I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Rome,

20 November, 1503

Niccolo Machiavelli

21 November, 1503

Rome

LETTER XXIII.

Magnificent Signori: —

The accompanying letters of yesterday and the day before will inform your Lordships of all that has occurred here since my last of the 18th, sent to you per express through the Pandolfini. I repeated the whole briefly in a letter which I have given to Messer Ennio, envoy of the Duke Valentino, who has sent him to your Lordships for the reasons given in mine of the 18th. I sent that letter by Messer Ennio, so that, in case he should arrive in Florence before the present letter, your Lordships may fully understand how matters are here, and may be able the better to decide the questions in relation to which he comes. Yesterday, at the twenty-second hour, I received your letter of the 17th, from which we learn that Faenza  is at the last extremity. And not to fail of his duty, his Eminence of Volterra sent your letters to the Pope, who was greatly agitated by the intelligence, according to what the Secretary of his Holiness reports. So soon as day dawned this morning, the Pope sent for his Eminence; and, complaining to him of the conduct of the Venetians, asked what remedies he could suggest. His Eminence replied, that, seeing these evils steadily progressing, it seemed to him that the remedies contemplated by his Holiness were insufficient, and that it was necessary to resort to stronger measures; that he ought immediately to make the Legato della Marca move forward with his cavalry, and that he must appoint another Legate in Romagna, who ought to be a cardinal, and a man of good character and reputation, who has the honor of the Church at heart, and whose duty it should be to keep those in obedience who are faithful to the Church, and bring back to their obedience, by force if necessary, those who have strayed from it; and that then he ought to call together the ambassadors of all the nations, amongst whom there should be the Venetian envoy, and that in his presence he ought to complain of the wrongs done to the Church, and ask for counsel and assistance; and that, moreover, he ought to send briefs everywhere, conforming to the language he had held to the assembled ambassadors. His Eminence reminded his Holiness that Pope Clement V. had rescued Ferrara from the hands of the Venetians, who had seized that town; and that Pope Sixtus IV., his predecessor and father, had stirred up all Italy against them. He added, that, notwithstanding these new measures, he thought his Holiness should not neglect the old ones, and should start the Bishops of Tivoli and of Ragusa to hold and maintain the other towns, supposing that Faenza was lost.

The Pope approved the suggestions of his Eminence as good and true; nevertheless he would not decide to avail of them as yet, saying that the circumstances seemed to him not to warrant the employment of measures that would at once irritate the Venetians; and that he preferred to carry out his first idea of sending the Bishops of Tivoli and of Ragusa, to see whether the Venetians would not by agreement restore to his hands what they had taken from him by violence. His Holiness seemed not altogether far from believing that the Venetians would do so, and that there was good reason to hope for it; although it  was only yesterday that he declared that he would call all the ambassadors together, and protest to them against the acts of the Venetians. Now his Holiness wants to wait for an answer from the deputies whom he has sent to Dionisio di Naldo, from whom as yet nothing has been heard. His Eminence could not induce the Pope to any other course; and whilst his Holiness seems to him, on the one hand, dissatisfied and disposed to remedy the evil when, in his opinion, the proper time shall have come, he finds him on the other hand more circumspect and lukewarm in the measures he proposes than what he ought to be; and therefore he could not induce him to come to any other conclusion.

Later, at the seventeenth hour, the Pope sent again for his Eminence, and told him that he had not been able to sleep on account of the state of things at Faenza and in Romagna, and that he had thought it might be well to sound the Duke Valentino again in regard to placing in the hands of his Holiness the castle of Furli and the other fortresses or places which he still held in Romagna, with the promise to restore them again to the Duke at a later moment, deeming it preferable that the Duke shouldoccupy them rather than the Venetians. He therefore begged his Eminence of Volterra to take the trouble of going as far as Ostia to see the Duke, and try to conclude such an arrangement with him. His Eminence agreed to do whatever might be agreeable to his Holiness, who in return promised to let him know if he should finally decide upon this course; charging him, meanwhile, to confer with the Cardinal d’Amboise, and to find out how he was disposed in this matter. This plan, that the Duke Valentino should hand these places over to the Pope, with the understanding that they shall be restored to him later, was proposed some days ago. The Duke consented to it, but then the Pope objected, saying that he did not want to break faith with any one; and being unwilling that any one should be master there, he refused to entertain the proposition. Now, however, he is willing to adopt this plan, unless he changes his mind again, being constrained by that necessity of which you are aware. He thinks that this is the most efficacious and excusable proceeding that he can adopt towards the Venetians, deeming it well not as yet to declare himself openly their enemy.

At dinner-time his Eminence was again sent for by the Pope,  who made him stay to dinner and detained him until near the twenty-fourth hour. His Eminence informed me that the Pope had sent to Ostia to ascertain whether the Duke had left, and if not, to make him delay his departure; as in that case the Cardinal will go early to-morrow to see him, and on the Cardinal’s return we shall know what conclusion has been arrived at. But if the Duke has left, then it would be useless to entertain the project any further. His Eminence told me also that they had talked of the mission of the Bishop of Ragusa, who has been named Governor of Bologna and of the entire Romagna, with instructions to do all he possibly can to rescue those places from the hands of the Venetians, and bring them back to their obedience to the Holy Church. This Bishop has orders to stop at Florence and thank your Lordships on behalf of the Pope for the efforts you have made thus far, and to confer with you as to whether it be best to go to Faenza or Furli, or to enter Romagna from some other direction. He is to act according to your suggestions, and to avail himself in all other respects of your Lordships’ good offices. He will leave to-morrow or next day.

“As to Citerna and the two hundred ducats, etc., about which I have written, your Lordships wish to know the grounds for such a payment, and the advantages that would result from it. In explanation of this I reply that these fortresses are distributed amongst the Cardinals by lot, and whoever receives one of them has to keep twenty men there as a garrison, for which he is paid by the treasury. But instead of twenty men they keep only ten, and the difference is their profit. These gains enable the Cardinals to find persons who purchase these fortresses from them; and as San Giorgio has found some one who offers him two hundred ducats for Citerna, he will not part with it for less to any one else, and I believe we shall have to pay him that sum if we wish to effect the proposed exchange. As to the advantages to be gained thereby, it seems to me necessary that, inasmuch as we claim to be the defenders of the Church, we should not prove ourselves her despoilers. Nor is there any other more suitable way; for if San Giorgio is content, the matter will remain quiet for at least one year, and within that period we shall find some other expedient. This is the plan proposed here, and we shall endeavor to carry it through, although San  Giorgio has drawn back and will not explain himself. But I shall not cease to keep an eye on him, and beg your Lordships meantime to reply upon this point.”

Your Lordships desire further information as to how matters are going on here, and what the opinions and conjectures in relation to them are. I imagined that up to the present time I had written in such manner that, if your Lordships take my letters in hand, you will find in them a complete history of all that has taken place here. To recapitulate them briefly I must, as regards the Pope, refer again to what I have written about him in my letter of the 11th; for his Holiness seems to me still bound by the same obligations and considerations which I then communicated. As to the Duke Valentino, you will have seen what I wrote subsequently, and more especially what I said in my three letters on the subject of his affairs; from which your Lordships, with your habitual sagacity, will be able to judge how his affairs will probably terminate, and what his own end is likely to be. Respecting Romagna I cannot yet tell your Lordships more than I have already done in my previous letters as to what is generally said here on the subject. From these your Lordships will also have learnt the attitude of the Pope and of the Cardinal d’Amboise, and the doings of the Venetians, real as well as pretended; how fate prevents the French from being able to resent them, and how the Pope finds it convenient to feign to believe them. Thus your Lordships cannot in this state of things hope that either the French or the Pope will aid you against the Venetians with either men or money; and that you will have to rely upon anything else rather than upon the men and money of others.

As regards the Spanish and French armies, the latter have so entirely obtained the control of the Garigliano, that the Spaniards could not prevent their crossing the river, nor afterwards drive them from the positions which they hold there. As to their respective forces, I can but repeat what I have said before on that point, and what is generally admitted; namely, that the Spaniards, being inferior in numbers, cannot venture to give battle, and therefore withdraw behind difficult passes and strong places; as was seen first at San Germano and now on the Garigliano, where, having been driven from the river-bank, they have retreated about a mile, and by means of  intrenchments and redoubts present fresh obstacles to the advance of the French. The bad weather also hinders the French from moving forward; for the country being low and swampy and the rain incessant, both French and Spaniards are obliged to confine their operations to guarding the redoubts which they have thrown up in front of each other, leaving the rest of their armies to disperse and seek shelter in the neighboring hamlets and places, being mutually protected against each other by the water and the weather. Yesterday the sky cleared a little, but to-day it rains again, and it is feared that the wet weather may continue for some time yet. Both armies suffer from want of forage and provisions; but the French suffer most, as the country around their camp is wasted to a greater degree. This exposes them to some disaster unless they can advance; on the other hand, the power of money, of which the French have abundance, may give them the best of the game, and may cause the Spaniards, who are short of money, to lose. It is believed that Bartolommeo d’ Alviano has joined the Spaniards, but only with a small force. The Cardinal d’Amboise, on the other hand, sent the Savelli and the troops of Giovan Giordano to the French army, who consider themselves as having been badly served by Gianpaolo Baglioni in not having moved with his cavalry when he was ordered, and when they urged him to march. Taking all things together, I am really at a loss what conclusion to come to as to the possible issue. Your Lordships can form your own conclusions better than any one else. I will only say this, that the general opinion is that, considering all things, the French have more money and better troops, but the Spaniards have more good fortune and a better commander.

I recommend myself to your Lordships.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Rome,

21 November, 1503

Niccolo Machiavelli

22 November, 1503

Rome

LETTER XXIV.

Magnificent Signori: —

This morning, at the twentieth hour, his Eminence of Volterra left for Ostia for the purpose explained in the accompanying letter. The Cardinal Romolino has gone with him,  and they will not return until to-morrow evening. Your Lordships will be promptly informed of the result of their mission. I shall endeavor to send this by an express that is to leave; but should I not be able to do so, I will send it anyhow by a special messenger.

Bene valete!

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Rome,

22 November, 1503

Niccolo Machiavelli

22 November, 1503

Rome

LETTER XXV.

Magnificent Signori: —

I write these few lines for the purpose of recommending myself especially to your Lordships, knowing that I may do so with entire confidence. On leaving Florence I received thirty-three ducats, of which I have expended about thirteen for postage as per account sent to your colleague Niccolo d’Alessandro Machiavelli. Eighteen ducats I had to pay for a mule, and for a velvet suit eighteen more. For a Spanish cloak I paid eleven ducats, and for an overcoat ten, making in all seventy ducats. I am living at an hostelry which costs daily for myself and two servants and the mule ten carlini. True, your Lordships have given me the salary I asked for; and I asked for what I supposed would be sufficient, not knowing how dear everything is here. I have therefore to thank your Lordships, and to complain only of myself. But having learned to know the cost of living here better, I would now beg your Lordships to remedy the matter, if it can be done. If my salary cannot be increased, at least have me reimbursed for the postage expenses, as has always been done to every envoy. Niccolo d’Alessandro Machiavelli knows my circumstances, and can tell you whether I am able to bear such a loss; and even if I could, your Lordships know that in this age men labor to get ahead, and not to go behindhand.

I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ feliciter valeant.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Rome,

22 November, 1503

Niccolo Machiavelli

23 November, 1503

Rome

LETTER XXVI.

Magnificent Signori: —

Yesterday I sent to your Lordships through Giovanni Pandolfini, and free of charge, four letters of the 19th, 20th, 21st, and 22d. The last informs you of the departure of the Cardinal Volterra for Ostia, for the purpose explained to your Lordships in mine of the 21st. Since then I received last night yours of the 20th, giving the news of the loss of Faenza. So soon as it was light this morning I went to the chamber of Messer Francesco di Castel del Rio, the person nearest to the Pope, and read him your Lordships’ letter. He told me that his Holiness had nothing so much at heart as the affairs of Romagna, and for that reason the news would be most painful to him. Still, as it was necessary that his Holiness should know it, he thought it best to avail of some favorable occasion to communicate it to him, and made me leave the letter, which I did most willingly, for it seemed to me in all respects proper that the Pope should know the facts. Deeming it well also to give the news to those Cardinals who have shown themselves most devoted to the Church in this matter, I spoke to Ascanio and Capaccio. Ascanio told me that he had also received the news, and that he was for doing everything possible for the good of the Church, etc., etc. Capaccio expressed himself in the most acceptable manner towards your Lordships, but added that he thought you had made a mistake in this Romagna business, in having supported those lords who have taken possession of these places again; that you ought to have abstained from interfering, or, if you wanted to do it, you should have done so in the name and under cover of the Church, and not in the name of any one else. Thus you would not have afforded the Venetians an occasion to oppose you, and to take to arms. These Venetians excuse themselves to the Pope on no other ground than this, and pretend to have taken arms against the cities of the Church, not for the purpose of holding them, but merely to prevent the Florentines from taking possession of them under cover of the Church.

Your Lordships know that I have ample ground for justifying your conduct in this matter, having been personally present at all the discussions and decisions come to by your Lordships  on the subject, all of which I explained very fully to his Eminence the Cardinal Capaccio. He seemed satisfied, but remarked nevertheless that it would have been well not to have afforded the Venetians such a pretext. Under the circumstances, however, he said it was necessary to think of the remedies; and so far as he was concerned, he was for leaving nothing undone, and he thought that his Holiness was animated by the same feelings; and then he told me of the steps taken in sending the Bishops of Tivoli and Ragusa, etc., etc. After that I had a conversation with the Cardinal d’Amboise, who told me that I ought to communicate the news to the Pope; and that as for himself he would do all that was possible for the security of your Lordships and for the liberty and honor of the Church. At that moment Castel del Rio sent for me and informed me that he had shown your letter to the Pope, who was as much grieved at the events as could be imagined, and was resolved to leave nothing undone, as was well known to his Eminence of Volterra, who had gone on horseback to Ostia for no other purpose, and that on his return he would decide whether some more effective measures could not be taken, and that then all would be done. I did what I thought my duty with Castel del Rio, as well as with the other Cardinals; still I judge that my offices are the less needed in this matter, as the Cardinal Volterra neglects nothing that ought to be said or done by any one who has the welfare of his country and the general good at heart, as I have already written several times to your Lordships. And if the measures and remedies do not conform to his suggestions, and are not such as the necessities of the occasion demand, or as your Lordships might desire, you must only blame the malignity of the times and the ill fortune of the feeble. We must then await the return of our Cardinal from Ostia, and see what arrangements he may have concluded, and whether thereupon the Pope or the Cardinal d’Amboise will decide upon moving more promptly.

It is now the twenty-fourth hour, and, as his Eminence has not yet returned, I judge that he will not come back until to-morrow. I must not omit to tell your Lordships that it is publicly said here, (and I write it because I have heard it from a man of serious character, and who is in a position readily to know the truth,) that early this morning a messenger came to his Holiness from those Cardinals who went to Ostia to see  the Duke Valentino, signifying that the Duke refused to place the fortresses of Romagna in the hands of the Pope; and that his Holiness, enraged at this news, has sent orders to have the Duke arrested, and that he is now held as prisoner. And further, that the Pope has immediately written to Sienna and Perugia, ordering such of the Duke’s troops as might come there to be immediately disarmed.

I do not know whether all this be true, but shall inform myself on the subject the moment our Cardinal returns, and will then at once write to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Rome,

23 November, 1503

Niccolo Machiavelli

24 November, 1503

Rome

LETTER XXVII.

Magnificent Signori: —

By my enclosed of yesterday, in reply to your Lordships’ letter of the 20th, you will be informed of the events of that day. Since then I have received yours of the 21st, with a copy of the convention concluded between the people of Faenza and the Venetians. Having at the same time heard of the return of his Eminence of Volterra, I called upon him immediately and read him the letters and the articles of the convention. After carefully noting their contents, and particularly the postscript where your Lordships show that you had foreseen that the attack of the Venetians upon Romagna was made “with the consent of the Pope, he told me that he had conferred several times with the Cardinal d’Amboise about it, and that he had also had his suspicions on the subject, seeing the tardiness of the Pope’s measures,” but that having afterwards talked with his Holiness, and seeing how keenly he felt the conduct of the Venetians, he could no longer believe it. And thus with regard to the information which you give respecting those who had gone to Imola, our Cardinal said that your Lordships were either misinformed, or that the Pope had been deceived by his envoys, as they had no authority to speak for any one but for the Church. We shall nevertheless watch these things closely, and if we learn anything of moment your Lordships shall be promptly advised. Your letter was subsequently  read to the Cardinal d’Amboise, and the articles of the convention were also shown him; and as the ambassador of the Emperor of Germany, who has repeatedly visited the Cardinal within the past few days, happened to be in his chamber at the time, the Cardinal called him to listen to the letter and the articles of the convention. Both the Cardinal and the ambassador manifested much resentment, and expressed themselves in the gravest and bitterest manner against the Venetians, intimating that this act of theirs might easily prove their ruin. In truth, there is such a general hatred manifested here against the Venetians, that we may hope that, if an occasion were to present itself, some harm would be done to them; for everybody cries out against them, not only those who hold their states from them, but all those lords and gentlemen of Lombardy who are subjects to the king of France (and these are not a few) cry into the ears of the Cardinal d’Amboise. And if he has not yet taken any action against them in the matter, it arises from the considerations which your Lordships understand, and which may cease either in consequence of a peace or a truce, or some other means, by which their condition would be improved. In short, the general opinion is that this attack of the Venetians upon Faenza will serve them as a door that will either open all Italy to them, or that will lead to their own ruin.

His Eminence of Volterra, with that prudence which he manifests on all occasions, enlarged upon the dangers to which our republic is exposed, and the inconvenience which she suffered from not having her troops within reach; and that the well-known ambition of the Venetians might easily give rise to a state of things that would not only make our own troops necessary, but also those of the king, to defend us against that inordinate desire for conquest of the Venetians, which, whilst it made them usurp the possessions of the Church, at the same time threatened those of Florence. D’Amboise became terribly excited at these words, and swore by God and on his soul, that if the Venetians committed such an outrage the king of France would leave all his other occupations, no matter how important, to come to our defence, and that upon that point your Lordships might be of good cheer, etc., etc. His Eminence of Volterra did not deem it proper to say anything more, judging that it was enough for the present to have  warned D’Amboise of what might happen. I went afterwards to present myself at the feet of the Holy Father, where I found his Eminence of Volterra, and read your Lordships’ letter to him, as also the articles of the convention, his Eminence adding what he thought to the purpose. His Holiness repeated what he had already said to me on another occasion, that he was fully resolved not to suffer such a wrong done to the Church; and that, besides having sent the Bishop of Tivoli, he would also send the Bishop of Ragusa to make his intentions known in Romagna and to the Venetians; that he had caused the Duke of Urbino to withdraw his troops, and had written to order Vitelli to do the same. He said further, that, for the purpose of depriving the Venetians of every excuse for this attempt, which they pretended to be against the Duke Valentino and the Florentines, he had written to your Lordships, requesting you to withdraw your troops, and had ordered the Venetians to do the same; “and that with regard to the Duke Valentino he had taken measures that were known to Volterra;” that he would wait now to see what the Venetians would do after all this, and if they did not desist from their attempt, and did not make restitution of what they had taken, he would unite with France and the Emperor for no other purpose than the destruction of the Venetians, for which these sovereigns were well disposed. When his Eminence of Volterra replied that the Venetians said that they intended to hold those places and pay the same dues as the other lords, which they thought his Holiness would readily agree to, the Pope replied that he had no such intentions, for he wanted those cities in the hands of men of whom he could dispose at his pleasure.

Your Lordships will judge of the intentions of the Pope by what he says, and by the measures he has taken, and what is likely to be the result of this affair. You will also have received the Pope’s brief directing you to withdraw your troops from these places; for he has written to the Venetians to the same effect, for the reasons above explained. What the Venetians will do on receipt of this brief is not known; but your Lordships can watch them, and govern your actions according to your habitual prudence. And to conclude, as regards the intentions of his Holiness, your Lordships will see, as I have several times said, that he wants to keep all those places in his  own hands and under his own control, and it is for this purpose that he has sent those Cardinals to Ostia, “the result of which was that, as the Duke refused to give up those places which he still held, the Pope had him arrested, as I have related in the enclosed. It seems to be the Pope’s determination to have those places, and to assure himself of the Duke’s person, who is actually now in the Pope’s power, being on board of one of the king’s galleys, under command of Mottino. It is not supposed that he will do him any other harm for the moment; nor is it known for certain that the Pope has ordered such of the Duke’s troops to be disarmed as have gone by land. But it is believed that this will naturally be done, as they come without a safe-conduct from any one.”

His Holiness will assume the tiara on Sunday next. Your Lordships can therefore start the ambassadors at your entire convenience; but his Eminence of Volterra suggests that the sooner the better, considering the Pope’s character, for he says that his Holiness seems to desire their coming, and would not be displeased at their arrival before the Genoese ambassadors, and that the first come will be the first despatched. His Eminence has charged me to advise your Lordships to urge their departure, for by doing so you will greatly advance yourselves in the Pope’s good graces without any inconvenience to yourselves.

From the camp I have nothing else to tell you but what I have already said in my letter of the 21st, for the weather continues most unfavorable, and, if this goes on so, the troops will be obliged to retire into quarters somewhere. Perhaps they may be able by means of some agreement to withdraw from each other’s front, for which the six months’ truce concluded at Perpignan gives some hopes. Your Lordships will be kept fully advised in relation to all this.

Valete!

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Rome,

24 November, 1503

Niccolo Machiavelli

25 November, 1503

Rome

LETTER XXVIII.

Magnificent Signori: —

To prevent your Lordships from having to wait for my letters, and at the same time to keep you informed of the various phases through which the Duke Valentino’s affairs have passed, and of their present condition, I hasten to send you the enclosed through the agency of Giovanni Pandolfini, who, seeing how irregularly the service of the couriers is performed, has resolved to send a messenger of his own. He is to leave at the twenty-second hour, and your Lordships will please pay him according to the advice of Giovanni.

Having written every day, or at least once every two days, I regret that, despite of many discomforts and dangers and my utmost diligence, as well as heavy expense, which neither the salary allowed me by your Lordships nor my own means can afford, I should be blamed for negligence. Henceforth, therefore, no three days shall pass, unless something extraordinary occurs, without my despatching a special courier to your Lordships; although the wretched roads and the fatigues of the couriers cause others to be served quite as badly as your Lordships. There is nothing new here but what I have already written. The Pope assumes the tiara to-morrow morning, as I have already mentioned.

I recommend myself to your Lordships.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Rome,

25 November, 1503

Niccolo Machiavelli

26 November, 1503

Rome

LETTER XXIX.

Magnificent Signori: —

Through the agency of Giovanni Pandolfini, who despatched an express, I sent yesterday three letters to your Lordships of the 23d, 24th, and 25th, which contained full report of all that had occurred here during those three days, and of what we learn here in relation to matters at present in preparation here. I have told you “that the Duke has finished his rôle here forever, that he is at the Pope’s mercy, who wants by all means  to obtain possession of those fortresses that are still held by the Duke, and at the same time wants to assure himself of the Duke’s person. It is not exactly known whether the Duke is still on board of a vessel at Ostia, or whether he has been brought here. Different rumors are current here on the subject to-day; in truth, some one has told me that yesterday at the second hour, whilst in the Pope’s chamber, two persons arrived from Ostia, whereupon every one was immediately requested to leave the chamber. But having remained in the adjoining room this individual overheard that these persons brought the news that the Duke had been thrown into the Tiber by order of the Pope. I can neither confirm nor deny this statement, but I believe that, even if it be not true now, it certainly will be erelong. And we now see how honorably this Pope begins to pay his debts, and how he wipes them out as with a sponge. Nevertheless everybody blesses his hands, and will do so still more the more decidedly he goes ahead. But since the Duke is taken, whether dead or alive, we can now act regardless of him. So soon as I learn anything positive about it, your Lordships shall be informed.”

To-day, with the help of God, our Holy Father, Pope Julius II., assumed the tiara, and gave his benediction to the people in the most edifying manner, and great festivity prevailed throughout all Rome. On Thursday, God willing, he will go to St. John Lateran; but should the weather not be favorable, then he will postpone it until the first fair day. The Bishop of Ragusa, who was to have gone to Romagna, wanted to witness the coronation; but it is not known whether he will delay his departure so as to enable him also to assist at this other solemnity. As to urging his departure, your Lordships may be assured, as I have before written, that nothing will be left undone upon that point, and that, as you are aware, by a personage of higher authority than myself.

The French and the Spaniards remain in the same condition as stated in my letter to your Lordships of the 21st, and we have the same hopes now as then; for the bad weather having continued, they could do nothing. True, yesterday a man arrived here from the camp who had left there two days before, having been sent by the French commander to inform the Cardinal d’Amboise that they intended anyhow to advance  within eight days, and to have a battle or ravage the country, even if they had to wade through mud and water up to their throats. They are very hopeful of victory, and I understand that Cardinal d’Amboise has given them free rein and commended them to God. We shall see what will come of it, and will pray God to grant victory to those who shall bring peace and welfare to Christendom and to our republic. The opinion prevails that this attempt will result unfavorably for the French; for they are weak in infantry, and if the mud is not dried by the north wind, or any other winds that may blow, their cavalry, in which they are strongest, will not be able to manœuvre, and thus the best part of their forces will be embarrassed, whilst the infantry of the Spaniards, in which they are strongest, will be able to act freely. Still we must suppose that so many men of ability as are on the side of the French value their lives and know what they are about.

This morning the duplicates of your letters of the 20th and 21st came to hand, and this evening I received those of the 22d and 24th. D’Amboise shall be informed of the payment made to Gianpaolo Baglioni; I will also communicate to him your letters touching the affairs of Romagna. But this cannot be done until to-morrow; to-day being a holiday, it would seem to me not proper to trouble him with business matters. I am really astonished that on the 24th your Lordships had not yet received my letters of the 19th, 20th, 21st, and 22d, which I sent on the 22d by a courier who was despatched to France; but I think that by this time he must have arrived at Florence anyhow. By the series of letters which I have written from the 16th until to-day, your Lordships will understand what steps the Pope and the Cardinal d’Amboise are taking with regard to the proceedings of the Venetians. And in fact the Pope believes that he will be able to recover those places from them in an amicable way; and D’Amboise hopes to be able to check their insolence with briefs. But up to the present we do not see that either of them is for expending anything but admonitions and menaces, either by letter or by word of mouth, and your Lordships know with what energy they dispense these. I have told your Lordships, in my letter of the 24th, what his Eminence of Volterra said to me about the suggestion of your Lordships, “whether the Pope might not have consented to the acts of the Venetians; that he had several times talked  with the Cardinal d’Amboise about it, and had concluded that it could not be; and that this conclusion was based upon the language held by the Pope whenever he had spoken to him on the subject. And not believing the Pope to be a man of double dealing, but rather abrupt and impetuous, they had no misgivings upon that point. His Eminence of Volterra has since then told me again, that one day, the same as on other occasions, the Cardinal d’Amboise had pressed the Pope upon this point, showing him that he desired to understand his intentions, so as to know what course the king of France would have to take, and that thereupon the Pope became greatly excited, and affirmed with the gravest oaths that the acts of the Venetians were entirely contrary to his will; that everybody understood this fully, and that he wanted to remedy the matter, etc., etc.; and that the Pope’s language was such that he could not have shown himself more dissatisfied. These two cardinals seem to believe him in part, and feel themselves in great measure secure, notwithstanding that there are others of equally high position who doubt whether amongst other promises for the purpose of gaining the Papacy, Julius II. may not have promised this to the Venetians,” etc., etc.

I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Rome,

26 November, 1503

Niccolo Machiavelli

27 November, 1503

Rome

LETTER XXX.

Magnificent Signori: —

I wrote the enclosed yesterday, giving an account of what had occurred here during the day. It remains for me to inform your Lordships that your letters of the 24th were communicated to his Holiness through Castel del Rio; but that on the whole nothing can be drawn from the Pope except that he is firmly resolved to have things restored to their places, and that he is busily occupied trying to get the fortresses which the Duke still holds out of his hands. Respecting the Duke I cannot confirm altogether what I had written in the accompanying; the only thing positive is that he is at Ostia in the power of the Pope. But I was told yesterday that Messer  Gabriello had returned from Fano, and Messer Romolino from Ostia, and that they had arranged matters with the Duke; that is to say, he places the fortresses by agreement in the hands of the Pope, for which his Holiness gives him certain compensation; also that Romolino had prostrated himself at the feet of his Holiness, and with tears in his eyes had recommended the Duke to his consideration. We shall know erelong what will come of all this. The Pope thinks that, once in possession of those fortresses, he will be better able to face the Venetians, and that the population of Romagna will be more disposed to adhere to him when once they see the standard of the Church floating from those fortresses. Of the French army I can report only what I have said in the enclosed; the weather seems settled, but we cannot know whether it will last.

I recommend myself to your Lordships.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Rome,

27 November, 1503

Niccolo Machiavelli

28 November, 1503

Rome

LETTER XXXI.

Magnificent Signori: —

I wrote to your Lordships yesterday and the day previous, and both letters were sent through Giovanni Pandolfini free of charge. It remains for me now to inform your Lordships that last night the whole of the Pope’s guard went to Ostia to bring the Duke Valentino here, according to the report of some, whilst others say that it is not only to bring him here, but also to make more sure of his person. For yesterday evening the Pope received information that the Duke had withdrawn with his followers on board of one of his own galleys, and that he would escape unless sufficient force were sent down at once to prevent it. The guard was consequently ordered down, and early this morning Castel del Rio also went down to Ostia; but up to the present twenty-fourth hour they have not returned. It was rumored this morning that the Duke had fled; but this evening it is stated that they have him in hand. However this may be, we shall know better by to-morrow; and we see now that the Pope is going to make a clean business of it with the Duke, and perhaps all I wrote in my letter of the 26th may in  every respect be verified. We see now that the Duke’s sins have little by little brought him to expiation. May God guide things for the best!

The Cardinal Ragusa left here yesterday and will pass through Florence, as I have already informed you, “and in fact he will govern his conduct according as you may direct him; his instructions were drawn up by the Cardinal Volterra. The Pope particularly recommended him to conduct himself in Florence with such prudence that he may not give cause to the Venetians to suspect him of being in your interest.” I have deemed it well to mention this to your Lordships, so that you may use due caution and prudence in dealing with him. One of the persons whom the Pope in the beginning sent into Romagna returned here yesterday, and reports that the Church has but few adherents amongst the inhabitants of Imola and Furli; because the latter fear that they may not again be placed under the government of the Countess of Furli, whilst those of Imola desire the return of the Duke. He also states that the Castellan of Furli is resolved upon making a vigorous resistance, and to remain faithful to the Duke so long as he knows him to be alive. This report displeases the Pope very much; still he relies upon the mission of the Bishop of Ragusa, and will await the result.

Nothing more from the camp than what I have lately written. Gianpaolo Baglioni is expected here within a week.

I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Rome,

28 November, 1503

Niccolo Machiavelli

Rome

LETTER XXXII.

Magnificent Signori: —

“Volterra communicated to me to-day, that yesterday, whilst conversing with D’Amboise about the things that are going on here, he touched upon the treaty that is on foot between the three sovereigns of France, Germany, and Spain. D’Amboise seemed very anxious that it should be carried into effect, because France has been much exhausted during the past year; and he hoped that with a little repose she would soon  be in condition to engage in any important enterprise. He spoke so earnestly on the subject, as to make one believe that he would be in favor of accepting such a peace, even if it were disadvantageous for France. His Eminence told me further, that D’Amboise had given him to understand that in the event of such a peace the Emperor would come any way into Italy. Volterra having observed, in reply to him, that, as on the occasion of similar treaties and descents of the Emperor into Italy, it would be necessary for France to remember her allies and to protect them, D’Amboise answered that this would under any circumstances be the first thing to be done, as they would on no account allow Tuscany to be dismembered. True, the Emperor being poor, and wishing to travel in a becoming manner, it would be necessary for Florence to contribute and serve him with a sum of money, which however need not be considerable; but that it was important for your Lordships not to fail in doing this. In the course of the conversation D’Amboise allowed it to escape from his lips that the aforesaid three sovereigns intended under the treaty to divide Italy amongst themselves; but he affirmed at the same time that under the protection of France Florence would be saved and her situation even improved. During this conversation Volterra never lost sight of the duties of his office; in short, he obtained from D’Amboise all the above information, and if this treaty is concluded, it will not be until after D’Amboise shall have conferred with the Emperor on his way back to France. It has seemed to me proper to communicate to your Lordships all the information I have had on the subject, so that when D’Amboise passes through Florence, as he will, you may place some citizen near him who will advocate your interests and will know on what subjects to sound him.

“You must also know that the Emperor’s ambassador was this morning with Volterra, and told him that the Venetian ambassador had been to see him the day before, and had endeavored to persuade him on the part of his government of their devotion to the Emperor, and how anxious they were that he should come into Italy, so that they might together with him settle the affairs of Italy, which were in such a bad condition; that the Venetian ambassador touched several times upon the affairs of Romagna, in the hope that  the Emperor’s ambassador would enter upon a discussion of that subject; but as he did not, the Venetian himself opened the matter, and began about the disorders in Italy, showing that Romagna had been devastated for two centuries on account of the Popes, who wanted to establish first one and then another as master of that province; so that its population was wearied, and in their desire for repose had thrown itself into the arms of the Venetians, who had received them, but that henceforth they wished to pay to the Church the revenues due to her. And as to the other lords, they were ready to submit themselves to their sense of justice. The German ambassador said that he had replied in a suitable manner, and, without noticing the arguments of the Venetian, he began again to say that the Emperor would without fail come into Italy very soon, and that his intentions with regard to Pisa were twofold; first, to give possession of that city to whoever gave him the most money for it; and secondly, that under all circumstances he wanted an annual revenue from it, as though it were his own property bestowed upon some one as his feudatory. To all this Volterra replied in a suitable manner, whereupon the German ambassador left. I write all this to your Lordships for the reason above stated, and confidently, so that this information may not reach any party where it might give rise to unfavorable reflections, etc., etc.”

Idem Niccolo Machiavelli.

Rome.

“By your letter of the 25th I have your instructions respecting Citerna, and shall follow the matter up with all possible economy; but the Cardinal San Giorgio says that he has a secret offer. Still the negotiation will not be given up, and your Lordships shall be advised of the result.

“Die quo in literis.”

Idem Niccolo.

Niccolo Machiavelli

29 November, 1503

Rome

LETTER XXXIII.

Magnificent Signori: —

The enclosed will inform your Lordships of what occurred here yesterday. Since then your letter of the 25th has arrived, and although there was a consistory to-day, nevertheless measures were taken early this morning to communicate the news contained in your letter to the Pope. Yours of the 24th was communicated to him at the same time, giving an account of the preparations of the Venetians for the purpose of making themselves masters of the remainder of Romagna. In short, his Holiness was reassured by the course of French affairs, and takes hope from the treaty between the two kings referred to in my letter of the 25th. But he was greatly irritated against the Venetians, so that, if any reliance can be placed upon words, gesticulations, and other indications, we must believe that these things really vex him, and that they have been done without his consent. Nevertheless, we do not see that he contemplates taking any other measures than such as he has ordered up to the present; but he seems altogether resolved to wait and see the result of the missions he has sent into Romagna and to Venice. Nothing is left undone to stir up the zeal of his Holiness, for in truth, besides his Eminence of Volterra, who acts in the matter with courage and and earnestness, and regardless of all other considerations, there are other Cardinals who give his Holiness no rest, and D’Amboise is one of those who promise him troops and all other aid, in case he should take fresh measures for resenting the acts of the Venetians. And that things are tending that way is proved by the language which his Holiness held this morning at the consistory before all the Cardinals. For when he came to declare the four Cardinals whom he created to-day, his Holiness said that one of the reasons that influenced him in the creation of those Cardinals was to give the Church more supporters for her defence against those who sought to usurp what belonged to her, and so as to be able the easier to recover from the hands of the Venetians the places which they had wrongfully seized; notwithstanding which he believed that they wished to act like faithful children of the Church, and were willing to restore those places to her, as he had been repeatedly assured by their ambassadors. In  saying this his Holiness softened his language; although the first part of his address was such as I have stated above.

The guard returned from Ostia to-day at the twenty-second hour, and the Duke Valentino was brought at the same time on a galley to San Paolo (fuori le Mura), about two miles from here; and it is believed that he will be brought up to Rome to-night. What will be done with him after that will be known erelong. For the present your Lordships need not trouble yourselves as to where the Duke may possibly disembark. The infantry which he had taken into his pay come straggling back, and the gentlemen whom he had taken with him will have to return to their homes; and Don Michele with the other troops who are coming to Florence will not get much good by it. For the present I know nothing more of them; but your Lordships will have better information on the subject from Perugia or the neighboring places. Of the French and the Spaniards we hear nothing new; they retain their former positions, where they are kept by the same causes that I have mentioned in previous letters. Nor is it known what determination the French have come to with regard to their intended advance under any circumstances, as they had given us to understand. Perhaps they have been stopped by the same considerations which I have mentioned in a former letter. Anyhow it is said that both the armies cannot well be in worse positions, nor in greater want. The weather does not improve; although it was fair for two days, yet to-day it has begun to rain again without cessation, and thus the poor soldiers have to contend against the waters of the earth and of the heavens.

The newly created Cardinals are the following: —

1. The Archbishop of Narbonne, nephew of D’Amboise.

2. The Bishop of Lucca.

3. The Bishop of Mende, in France.

4. The Bishop of Sibilia.

I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Rome,

29 November, 1503

P. S. — I had omitted to tell your Lordships that the Pope does not go to St. John Lateran to-morrow, for fear of the weather. The solemnity has been postponed until Sunday.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Niccolo Machiavelli

30 November, 1503

Rome

LETTER XXXIV.

Magnificent Signori: —

The enclosed letters of yesterday and the day before will inform your Lordships of what has taken place here since my letters of the 26th and 27th. This morning his Eminence of Volterra told me that he had again been with the Pope, and that, in speaking of the affairs of Romagna, his Holiness said: “This Venetian ambassador makes a great outcry about what I said in the consistory, and goes about complaining to the whole world on the subject.” His Eminence replied that his Holiness ought to learn from this how much noise these Venetians made about his words, whilst they themselves were unwilling to be reproached for their acts. And that his Holiness ought to be the more incensed by their acts, as they were committed against the Church, etc., etc. The Pope having thereupon asked him whether he had any new measures to suggest, his Eminence replied, that it seemed to him that his Holiness ought to request the Cardinal d’Amboise, before leaving Rome, to order some lances into the province of Parma; and moreover he ought to leave Gianpaolo in Tuscany, so that he could readily be sent to the frontiers of Romagna, and could be made use of either in reality or by way of demonstration, according to circumstances. These two things he thought would not be difficult for D’Amboise to do, for the troops would anyhow have to go into winter quarters, and therefore it ought to be immaterial to him whether they were at Parma or elsewhere. That Gianpaolo was not needed in camp, as there was already too much cavalry there, and that perchance, if a truce were concluded, as was hoped for, he would also have to go into winter quarters. His Eminence of Volterra furthermore reminded his Holiness that he ought promptly to engage those Condottieri whom he intended to take into his pay, in addition to the Duke of Urbino, who seemed disposed to take some of the Colonnese into his own pay. He related to him also, that there had been some negotiations during the past year, through the intervention of the king of France, to effect a union between your Lordships and the cities of Sienna, Bologna, and Ferrara, but that Pope Alexander VI. in his unlimited desire for domination had always opposed it, lest such an alliance might be  directed against him; that it would be well, however, for his Holiness to resume these negotiations, and that, if he were to take them in hand, he would doubtless succeed, and that very soon. His Eminence pointed out to the Pope what good would result from it, and how such an alliance would insure peace and quiet to all those states as well as to the Church, and add greatly to the consideration of his Holiness. His Eminence told me that the Pope listened quietly, and with seeming pleasure, to all his arguments, and said that he would endeavor to have D’Amboise do what his Eminence had suggested, and that he would engage the Condottieri as soon as possible. His Holiness said, moreover, that the proposed alliance pleased him much, and that he would promote it to the extent of his power; in fact, that, so far as he was concerned, he was ready to do anything to bring it about. After that they talked of the Duke Valentino, from which it appeared that the Pope does not yet treat the Duke as a prisoner for life. He has sent him to Magliana, seven miles from here, where he is guarded; and in this way the Pope is trying to make him pliable, and to get his countersign from him by agreement, so that it may not be said of him that he had obtained it by force, lest the governors of those fortresses, under such an impression, should undo the whole by giving those places into the hands of some one else instead of the Pope; and therefore he wanted the Duke’s countersign by agreement, as I have said. The agreement will certainly contain the conditions that the Pope is to have those fortresses, and that then the Duke will be allowed to go free. Perhaps there may be a question as to some compensation, or it may even contain a promise of their being restored after a while to the Duke. What the result of all this will be, I cannot say; nor is it easy to form a judgment in the matter, for the Duke’s affairs have undergone a thousand mutations since I have been here, though in truth these changes have always been downward.

To-day at dinner-time I received your letter of the 27th, in reply to mine of the 25th, and announcing the arrival of Messer Ennio, together with the news of Imola, etc., etc. I applied immediately for an audience of his Holiness, and, presenting myself at his feet, I communicated to him the contents of your letters. In reply his Holiness referred, the same as on former occasions, to his intentions against the Venetians; and as to  Messer Ennio, the Pope expressed himself pleased to have the information and the particulars of the way in which the affair had passed off; adding merely that your Lordships should take care to withdraw your troops. To which I replied, that your Lordships had thought of all this, and would act in such manner as not to set a bad example to the Venetians; and that, on the other hand, you would do your utmost to prevent any inconvenience arising from it. His Holiness told me that he had heard of the news from Tosignano, which he regretted greatly, and thanked your Lordships for your offer.

For information respecting the French and Spanish armies I must refer you to what I have said in my previous letters on the subject. The Cardinal d’Amboise will leave here without fail next week. In conversing three or four days since with the most Reverend Monsignore Capaccio, he told me that he had received a benefice in Mugello, and was about to send the Bull and his executive letters; and he requested me to write to your Lordships to be pleased promptly to expedite them; reminding me that he had never asked for anything of you, but had on every occasion served you like a good Florentine. I replied to him in a suitable way.

His Eminence of Volterra, as I have repeatedly observed in my letters, never fails to do his duty to his country; but he would wish to avoid committing any error, and would not like that his too great desire to do what is right and good should mislead him. It would be very agreeable to him, therefore, if, besides your instructions with regard to Romagna, you would indicate to him what, in your Lordships’ judgment, would be the best thing for the Pope to do, so that his Eminence may act with less hesitation and more wisdom.

I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Rome,

30 November, 1503

The present letters are sent by a confidential express, for which your Lordships will pay to Giovanni Pandolfini the usual price. This express will leave at the fourth hour of the night.

Niccolo Machiavelli

1 December, 1503

Rome

LETTER XXXV.

Magnificent Signori: —

After having despatched per confidential express my letters of the 28th, 29th, and 30th, I received your Lordships’ letter of the28th per express. I presented myself this morning at the feet of the Holy Father, and read to him your Lordships’ letters in the presence of his Eminence of Volterra. His Holiness listened as usual, and manifested the greatest displeasure at the news; he repeated to me that he would not rest nor leave anything undone that was in his power to do for the honor of the Church and the security of her friends; that until now he had done the greater part of what your Lordships had required him to do, that the briefs to the Venetians had been written and sent, and that the Bishop of Ragusa ought by this time to be at Sienna. Moreover, that as he had no troops he would ask the Cardinal d’Amboise to consent to his employing Gianpaolo Baglioni himself, and that he would to some extent endeavor to raise troops, and that thus he would do as much as he possibly could, and with such good will that nobody in reason could ask more of him. I replied to all this as seemed to me proper, and Cardinal Volterra did his duty, as ever is his wont, for he remained to-day, as on many previous occasions, to dine with his Holiness; and made it a point to remind and urge him to take the necessary steps for our security and for the honor of the Church. The Pope seemed to his Eminence in great agitation, for whilst on the one hand he is anxious to act, he feels on the other hand that he lacks the power. There is no doubt that, if the Pope can be kept in this mood, he will in course of time put those who now attempt to dishonor the Church in great peril. His Eminence also seems to think that your Lordships should urge the departure of the ambassadors, and that you should be liberal in those things that cost nothing, and bestow and distribute them according to circumstances.

When his Holiness was informed, according to what you write, that Ramazotto had entered the castle of Imola, he said that this captain was devoted to him, but that, if the report was true, it must have been done by order of the Cardinal San Giorgio, and that we could learn from him whether he knew  anything about it. More than this I have not been able to get from his Holiness; but your Lordships will be able to judge and decide from these conclusions and resolutions what ought to be done. For, as has been said a thousand times, for the present there is nothing to be hoped for from here in the way of aid either of troops or of money, unless D’Amboise should consent that the Pope should engage the services of Gianpaolo, and every effort will be made to induce him to do so. There is no indication that those who influence his Holiness have had the least idea that the acts of aggression of the Venetians have been done with his consent, for they do not believe him capable of such duplicity, having never before known him such, and looking upon him rather as an impulsive man who acts regardless of all considerations. His Holiness says that his briefs have been sent off in duplicate to the Venetians; and as none have been presented to your Lordships, it is natural to conclude that he has abstained from sending you any, for the reason which he himself intimated to me yesterday evening when I spoke to him on the subject, as I wrote your Lordships in my letter of yesterday.

Whilst at the feet of his Holiness news came that Don Michele was taken prisoner, and that his company had been stripped by Gianpaolo Baglioni on the frontier between Tuscany and Perugia. His Holiness manifested great satisfaction at this, as the affair seemed to have succeeded entirely according to his wishes. His Eminence of Volterra remained with his Holiness, and went with him to dine in the Belvedere; whence he returned in the evening at about the twenty-fourth hour, and related to me that after my having left the Pope the Duke of Urbino sent him a letter, which Gianpaolo Baglioni had written to some one in his confidence, to the effect that the inhabitants of Castiglione and Cortona, aided by his troops, had stripped the men under Don Michele, and that he himself and Carlo Baglioni were prisoners at Castiglione Aretino, in the hands of your Lordships’ rectors. This news delighted the Pope in the highest degree, for it seemed to him as if the capture of this individual would afford the opportunity for discovering all the cruel robberies, murders, sacrilege, and endless other crimes that had been committed during the past eleven years in Rome, against God and mankind. And his Holiness said to Cardinal Volterra that he hoped that, since your Lordships  had done so well in allowing your subjects to assist in stripping Don Michele and his troops, you would also render him the further service of delivering Don Michele into his hands. He immediately directed a brief to be written to your Lordships, demanding the said Don Michele, which brief will be forwarded at same time with this letter. His Eminence encouraged the Pope to hope that it would be done, and he counsels your Lordships most earnestly to surrender this individual, as being an enemy and despoiler of the Church. You will thus give his Holiness a proof of your devotion, which will be greatly prized by him, and will cost you nothing. His Eminence also told me that the condition of Romagna had formed the principal topic of their conversation all day, and that he had recognized in the Pope an earnest desire and great eagerness to remedy that state of things; that he intended to take troops into his pay, and to do all other things to enable him to show his teeth to everybody. And if these things are not immediately carried into effect it will be owing to the causes which I have explained in my letter of the 11th of last month, which keep him embarrassed; besides these he naturally perplexes himself a little, which another, who had more resources, would not do. But his great mind and the love of honor which his Holiness has always manifested will overcome all this.

The Bishop of Ragusa ought by this time to have arrived in Florence, and according to what the Cardinal Volterra tells me the Pope’s brief will be presented by him to your Lordships, unless it should have been previously sent to you; he also tells me that the Pope has written twice to Venice. So far as I am aware, there is nothing new from the French camp.

I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Rome,

1 December, 1503

P. S. — I had forgotten to tell your Lordships that the Duke Valentino is at the palace, where he was brought this morning, and is lodged in the chamber of the treasurer. I must also inform you that the Pope wishes your Lordships to send Don Michele under a strong guard as far as Acquapendente, where his Holiness will have ordered that he shall be received. His Eminence of Volterra seems to think that, if your Lordships wish to avoid the expense of sending him so far, you might  have him taken to Perugia, and send immediate information of it here, so that the Pope may make arrangements to have him sent for there.

Niccolo Machiavelli

2 December, 1503

Rome

LETTER XXXVI.

Magnificent Signori: —

I wrote you yesterday all that had occurred here; perchance that letter may reach you at the same time with this one. I must now inform your Lordships that one of Signor Luca Savello’s men-at-arms called this morning upon his Eminence of Volterra and myself, having been sent expressly to the Cardinal to tell him that it was impossible for Signor Luca to subsist any longer without money, and that he desired a small payment on account, and that if this were not promptly made he would be constrained to disband his company and return home, which for the honor of your Lordships and his own hewould not wish to be obliged to do. His Eminence gave him fair words, and promised him that your Lordships should be written to on the subject; and he directed me to write and reassure Signor Luca, and also to bring the matter to your notice, so that you may reply and provide the means. This messenger left the camp four days ago; he reported also that the greater part of the army was on the Garigliano, where the bridge had been thrown over the river, and that the rest were dispersed in the vicinity within ten miles. He reported many disorders and much difficulty in crossing the river; he also stated that it was reported in camp that Gonsalvo had a number of boats brought by land, which he intended to place upon the river for the purpose of crossing to the other side, for the arrival of the Orsini made him suppose himself superior in number to the French. We asked the messenger what the French intended to do under the circumstances; but he could not tell, nor was he able to give any explanations upon many other points. I can say nothing more on this subject; we must await the issue, and pray God that it may be favorable.

“San Giorgio does not wish that any one should receive the appointment of constable who is a Florentine, or a subject of that republic; and therefore you might name any one to that  office whom you thought suitable, and the sooner the better, so that we may get this matter off our hands. But it will not cost you less than two hundred ducats, for it is the money he wants, and not the exchange.”

I recommend myself to your Lordships.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Rome,

2 December, 1503

Niccolo Machiavelli

2 December, 1503

Rome

LETTER XXXVII.

Magnificent Signori: —

After having written you the enclosed I left the palace with the intention of seeing San Giorgio, for the object known to your Lordships. Having waited a long while without being able to see him, because of his occupations, I returned to the palace where I found his Eminence of Volterra, who had been with the Pope in relation to the affairs of the Duke Valentino. His Holiness had obtained the countersign for the fortresses from the Duke, and had ordered that Messer Pietro d’ Oviedo, as the Duke’s representative, and some other person as representing his Holiness, should leave this evening or early to-morrow for Florence on their way to Romagna. And as his Eminence had written a letter to your Lordships in my absence, which these commissioners should present to you, I must refer to that letter for all that has been agreed upon with the Pope, and for all that his Eminence thinks your Lordships ought to do in this matter. I will only say, by direction of his Eminence, that nothing should be left undone by your Lordships to enable the Pope to succeed in obtaining possession of these fortresses; and to reassure their castellans by becoming surety for the Pope’s promises, and even to expend some of your own money for that purpose; and altogether to act in such manner as to assure and dispose their inhabitants favorably, and to inspire them with the hope that the Pope will deal with those lords that have returned to him in the way they could wish; and in fact to employ all your skill to carry the matter through. For if the Pope succeeds in getting possession of the castles of Furli and Cesena, apart from the advantage that would result to Florence from such an impediment  being placed in the way of the Venetians, his Holiness would also acknowledge himself under the greatest obligations to your Lordships.

The Duke Valentino has been removed from the apartment of the treasurer, and is now lodged in that of the Cardinal d’Amboise; he is trying to accompany that Cardinal to Florence, where he will go immediately after the coronation in St. John Lateran.

“D’Amboise received the Duke most unwillingly in his apartment, and is still more reluctant to take him with him. In the matter of receiving the Duke in his apartment, the Cardinal submitted for the sake of gratifying the Pope; but as to taking him with him to Florence, the Cardinal may perhaps not agree to that. And then if the Pope wants possession of those fortresses before the Duke leaves Rome, they could not be turned over to him in time, inasmuch as D’Amboise is on the point of starting. It is not easy therefore to form an opinion as to what the end of the Duke may be; but many conjecture that it will be a bad one.”

The Cardinal d’Amboise will leave immediately after the Pope shall have gone to St. John Lateran, which is to be on Monday or Tuesday next. The Emperor of Germany’s ambassador will accompany D’Amboise, who will endeavor to have an interview with the Emperor before proceeding on to France, in the hope of bringing about an agreement between those two sovereigns. His Eminence of Volterra thinks it would be well that your Lordships should at once send some one of experience and position as your representative to go with the Cardinal d’Amboise, who should meet him this side of Sienna, so that in passing through that city he might see whether some good arrangement might not be effected with Pandolfo. Our Cardinal seems to think it desirable that your Lordships should send some one with the Cardinal d’Amboise, who should be present at the interview with the Emperor, so as to remind him of the interests of our republic, and to find out whether anything is proposed to its detriment, and if so, to counteract it as far as possible, and promptly to advise your Lordships of it. Such a person should be a man of experience, and agreeable to the Cardinal d’Amboise, as well as devoted to our republic. When his Eminence of Volterra related to the Cardinal d’Amboise the message he had received that morning  from Messer Luca Savello, which I have mentioned in the enclosed, D’Amboise shook his head and said that the fellow must be a fool; assuring his Eminence of Volterra, at the same time, that he had letters of the 29th of November, saying that the enemy was much worse off than the French, for they were up to their middle in water, and were less sheltered and suffered more from want, having less money to spend. And that the French were still of the same mind as heretofore with regard to an advance, if only the waters of heaven and earth would let them. Since then I have conversed this evening with a citizen of Florence who had talked with Salvalago of Pistoja, who came a couple of days ago from the camp, and relates that he has been several times within the past three weeks in the French and Spanish camps for the purpose of receiving certain prisoners, and that the statements of this Salvalago correspond more with what the Cardinal d’Amboise says than with the reports brought by the messenger from Savello. The end will explain all, and we must abide it in patience.

The Marquis of Mantua left here yesterday for Florence; he is ill of a quartan ague.

I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Rome,

2 December, 1503

P. S. — After having written the above, and whilst in the act of sealing it, your letter per express arrived, informing me of the capture of Don Michele. We had this news already yesterday morning, and I wrote you yesterday evening at length what the Pope wanted done in the matter, as you will also learn from the brief of his Holiness, which was sent with our letters. And as Giovanni Pandolfini has told me that they were safely sent last night, I do not repeat it now. And although your Lordships’ instructions had been fulfilled, I nevertheless sent the letters to his Eminence of Volterra at the palace; for it being now the third hour of night, persons in my position cannot with safety pass through the streets of Rome.

I recommend myself to your Lordships.

Niccolo Machiavelli

3 December, 1503

Rome

LETTER XXXVIII.

Magnificent Signori: —

I wrote two letters to your Lordships yesterday, which will be brought to you by the same courier, whose departure has been delayed until this evening, and who, according to what I hear, will not start for Florence until the third hour of night. I acknowledged in my last the receipt of your private despatch per express, containing the news of the capture of Don Michele. But as this news had already reached the Pope, as mentioned in my letter, and as his Holiness had already written to you, there was no occasion to do anything more in the matter. Nevertheless your Lordships’ letter was communicated to the Pope, and produced the same effect as mentioned in my letter of the 1st; that is to say, his Holiness manifested much pleasure, and then demanded with great earnestness to have Don Michele delivered to him. And he seemed confident that this request would not be refused, and to-day he said, smiling, that he wanted to talk with Don Michele and to learn some tricks from him, so as to enable him the better to govern the Church.

I have told your Lordships in my last of yesterday, that Pietro d’ Oviedo, together with an envoy of the Pope, was to have left this morning for Florence with the countersigns of the fortresses. Your Lordships must know that they have not yet started, for the reason that, as the Pope was negotiating for the amicable transfer of these fortresses, the Duke held back and wanted guarantees, and stood upon other trifles, and at the same time the Pope did not yet want to force him. The guarantees demanded by the Duke are that the Cardinal d’Amboise shall pledge himself in his own handwriting that all the Pope’s promises shall be carried out; in other words, that D’Amboise shall become surety for the good faith of the Pope. The Cardinal d’Amboise has until now refused to do this, and no one believes that he will be induced to consent to it in any way or at any price. And thus this matter has been discussed all day, and the final impression is that without any other pledges on the part of the Cardinal d’Amboise, Messer Pietro d’ Oviedo will start to-morrow morning with the countersigns, “and thus the Duke is little by little slipping into his grave.”

Certain young Roman gentlemen, followers of the Duke,  came to-day to his Eminence of Volterra and complained that, whilst the Florentine merchants were well received at Rome, their own men and their effects that were with Don Michele had been seized and taken from them, in consequence of which they made these complaints, and even threats. His Eminence answered them sharply, saying that the Florentine merchants came to Rome unarmed and for a useful purpose, and not with the intent to do harm to any one; and that, if their men and things had been seized and spoliated, it was because of the injuries which they had in the past inflicted upon the inhabitants of the country, and because they had now come amongst them again without any guaranty or assurance not to do them fresh harm. These young men finally went away as they had come. His Eminence thinks, nevertheless, it would be well for you to gather all the facts and proofs of the case, and proceed the same as others who have been despoiled by the Duke. These have made public declaration of their grievances, and have proceeded against the Duke in the regular legal way, and their petitions have already been filed. Amongst these figure the Duke of Urbino, who claims two hundred thousand ducats, and the Cardinal San Giorgio, who claims fifty thousand ducats for account of his nephews. By adopting the same course yourselves, you would always be able to justify this late incident by proving the damages which you have suffered at the hands of the Duke.

The engagement of Gianpaolo Baglioni remains suspended, so far as your Lordships are concerned, for the reasons mentioned before, that the Cardinal d’Amboise is dissatisfied with him; for after having given Gianpaolo permission to go to Perugia, he ordered him to do several things, none of which he has done; and also because, despite of all the letters written and all the money paid him, he has never yet come here. His Eminence fears that, unless measures be taken to remedy this in some way, all the money paid by the king of France and D’Amboise to enable Baglioni to mount his troops may after all have been expended only for the benefit of some one else. And his Eminence of Volterra sees no other remedy than to have this business ratified by your guaranty, — which he thinks can be concluded here if Gianpaolo arrives here with his company before the departure of the Cardinal d’Amboise, so that he may talk and demonstrate to him that everything is  in order. His Eminence furthermore is of the opinion, that, if D’Amboise should have left before Gianpaolo arrives here, you should do your utmost to bring this matter to a conclusion before the Cardinal shall have left Tuscany; otherwise he fears the result may be such as has been indicated above.

Valete!

Rome,

3 December, 1503

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Niccolo Machiavelli

14 December, 1503

Rome

LETTER XXXIX.

Magnificent Signori: —

I write to-day more for the sake of keeping up my habit of writing to your Lordships daily, than from necessity; and for news I must refer you to my letters of yesterday and the day before, which were sent by a courier from Lyons, who was despatched this evening. The only thing of interest here is that a public consistory was held yesterday, and the names of those Cardinals were published whose nominations had been contemplated, as I had communicated to your Lordships in a previous letter. I must also inform you that the French have received intelligence through a man sent here on purpose, and who arrived two hours since, that the Spaniards had some boats that had been brought by land, and which they placed upon the Garigliano, intending to run them against the bridge constructed by the French, and some of these barges were filled with combustibles and lighted, so as to try and burn the bridge. At a given signal these barges were launched upon the river, and at the same moment a land attack was made upon the redoubt which is held by the French on the other side of the river. Both these assaults were gallantly repulsed by the French, some three hundred Spaniards were killed, and the barges were captured and sunk. Thus the story is related by a Frenchman.

His Holiness goes to-morrow to St. John Lateran; a splendid solemnity has been arranged for the occasion, and unless the weather interferes it will be a brilliant festivity.

It is now the eighteenth hour, and should anything else occur to-day, it will be communicated to you to-morrow.

I recommend myself to your Lordships.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Rome,

14 December, 1503

Niccolo Machiavelli

6 December, 1503

Rome

LETTER XL.

Magnificent Signori: —

My last to your Lordships was of day before yesterday, in which I gave you the news up to that time. But I had scarcely written it when Pietro d’ Oviedo left, together with the Pope’s representatives, and having the countersigns, etc., etc. As they were to travel by post, they ought to be in Florence by this time, and your Lordships will have seen them in person. The Bishop of Ragusa must also have arrived, and you will likewise have spoken with him, and agreed with him as to the nature of the assistance which he is to furnish you, according as circumstances shall require. Since then nothing is thought of here but festivities.

The Pope went yesterday with great solemnity to St. John Lateran, whence he did not return until the fourth hour of night. On Sunday he goes to San Paolo, and he has ordered that the tabernacles, the triumphal arches, and the temples that have been erected in the streets shall remain, for he wants to show himself on Sunday with the same pomp. I have received a letter from your Lordships of the 2d, and although the news of the arrival of the Count Pittigliano in Romagna would have been of interest, yet all the above circumstances have prevented me from doing anything in the matter. The Pope and all Rome look forward to the arrival of Don Michele as a great occasion, and would like to have it happen on Sunday, so that they might make use of him in the triumphal procession; but the Pope will be glad to have him whenever he may come.

We have no further news from the French and the Spaniards. The Cardinal d’Amboise and the Spanish ambassador have commenced their conferences. It is said that the Pope has sent a commissioner to Gonsalvo to try and bring about a truce between them, and there is fair prospect of success unless some mishap occurs meantime.

In a previous letter I informed your Lordships that his Eminence of Amboise was dissatisfied with Gianpaolo, and that it was to be feared that, after having mounted his company by means of French money, some one else might have the benefit of it. There seems to be no way of preventing this except to  induce Gianpaolo to have an interview with the Cardinal d’Amboise, either here in Rome or somewhere on the road, and to make him protest to the Cardinal that he wished to serve him, and declare himself ready to obey his orders; and that then you should endeavor to complete his engagement, from which you would derive great advantages. But if Gianpaolo should not have such an interview with D’Amboise, the difficulty could not be remedied, for the Cardinal has become terribly embittered against Gianpaolo, and has repeatedly sworn as a soldier, that, if Gianpaolo does not return him his money, he would, if he could not injure him in any other way, hand him over as a prey to any one with whom he could come to an understanding about it, no matter whether Italian or Ultramontane. The Cardinal d’Amboise says that he has heard that Baglioni has pledged himself to Bartolommeo d’ Alviano never to enter the kingdom of Naples against the Spaniards; and certain indications which he has noted since make the Cardinal believe that this is undoubtedly true. To prevent such an evil, his Eminence of Volterra and myself have written this evening to Gianpaolo, each one separately, in plain language, enjoining him to endeavor to have an interview with the Cardinal d’Amboise on the road, if he desired to avoid being blamed as an enemy of France, and no friend of your Lordships. I have given you this information so that you may know how the matter stands, and that you may reflect upon it and take such steps as you may judge to be most conducive to the common interest. The Cardinal d’Amboise leaves, as I have said, either on Friday or Saturday next, and the Imperial ambassador will accompany him. D’Amboise has been confirmed Legate of France.

His Eminence of Volterra desires to remind your Lordships to send two or three deputies to meet him at least one day’s journey this side of Sienna, so as to be able to confer with him in relation to the interests of our republic, and especially about Montepulciano and Pisa. He also suggests that you should send some one to accompany him, and who should be present at his interview with the Emperor. His Eminence thinks that this would in every respect be most useful.

The Duke Valentino remains in the apartment of the Cardinal d’Amboise, but is treated very ceremoniously. Yesterday, on account of the festivities, he was placed under the guard  and surveillance of Castel del Rio, who took him to dine at the Belvedere, and treated him with great respect all day. It is believed that after the departure of D’Amboise the Duke will be confined for good in the Castel San Angelo.

I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ felices valeant.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Rome,

6 December, 1503

Niccolo Machiavelli

Florence

Giuliano de’ Ricci

LETTER XLI.

Magnificent Signori: —

Your Lordships will bear in mind what I wrote you on the 28th ultimo. The Imperial ambassador has again been with the Cardinal Volterra, and said to him: “Your Eminence does not seem to think of what I have told you several times, nor have you ever given me an answer. And yet it would be well to think of it and answer me. And I tell you again now that the Emperor will come into Italy, and intends to obtain two advantages from Pisa; namely, a certain amount of money at once, and a regular revenue for the future; and that he will give the possession of that city to whoever makes him the highest offer for it.” Our Cardinal replied that he could not give him an answer upon these points; but as he was going himself with the Cardinal d’Amboise to Florence, he could there confer with your Lordships and get an answer from you direct. The ambassador agreed to wait until then; and in speaking afterwards of the proposed treaty between the Emperor and the king of France, he said that treaty would certainly be concluded in the course of a month, and that amongst other conditions it would contain one to the effect that the parties would protect the interests of each other’s allies, except in cases where either of the sovereigns had special claims, even though adverse to the ally of the other. The ambassador added, that the Venetians sought to make such a treaty a ground for claiming to be allowed to keep what they had taken. Cardinal Volterra replied, that such a proceeding would deprive the Emperor Maximilian and King Louis XII. of a most favorable opportunity for increasing their power in Italy, and to hold their own states securely, as it would make a formidable  state like Venice still more powerful, and would make a feeble state like Florence weaker than before. And therefore he could not help saying, even though his words were insufficient to prove it, that it was evident to him that your Lordships were disposed to come to an arrangement with the Venetians before any one else had thought of it. And that you would only look to the interests of Florence at the least suspicion that your republic was to be dismembered and left to the mercy of others.

His Eminence of Volterra seemed to think that these words checked the ambassador in some measure, and caused him to reflect, and that he went away in a less arrogant mood.

The ambassador will pass through Florence with D’Amboise, and meanwhile your Lordships will have reflected as to how to treat him in relation to the interests of our republic, etc., etc.

Niccolo Machiavelli

Florence

Gonfaloniere Pietro Soderini

LETTER XLII.

Magnificent Signor: —

I have received your letter of the 21st, and although I could not make out the signature I thought I recognized the handwriting and the style. But even if I were mistaken, the reply which I address to you will neither be out of place nor from the purpose. You point out the danger to which the rest of Romagna is exposed by the loss of Faenza, and you intimate that the Florentines have need to think of their own interests, because others who could and should do so pay no attention to them. You fear lest the Pope had given his consent to the proceedings of the Venetians, and you make yourself illusions as to the final result of French affairs, and urge me to renew my instances and solicitations. Although all this had already been officially written to me, and although I have replied to it as fully as you could possibly desire, and so that you could have formed a definite opinion on reading my letters, yet I will not fail in my duty to you; and in accordance with your request  I will answer your questions in very plain language, if my communications to the government have been too diplomatic, which, however, I do not believe to be the case.

You express the wish that for once the Pope and the Cardinal d’Amboise should, inthe Romagna business, employ other means than mere words, which you deem insufficient remedies for what the Venetians have done and continue to do; and you have caused both Pope and Cardinal to be solicited upon that point in a way that you know. The results of this have been those resolutions which have been communicated to you; for the Pope hopes that the Venetians will have to act in a manner that will be satisfactory to him; and the Cardinal d’Amboise believes that he will still be in time to remedy matters, either by a peace, a truce, or a victory. And both Pope and Cardinal are so fixed in their opinions, that they will not listen to any one who suggests anything different from their own views. We may conclude, therefore, that you need not expect either troops or money from here, but only briefs, letters, or monitory embassies, which may be more or less vigorous according to the considerations which the Pope and the king of France may have to observe. And what these may or should be you will be best able to judge yourselves, keeping in view the condition of Italy, and then in thinking of your own interests after having seen and examined what may be done by others for your security, and after having seen and examined what you may expect from here. As to what may be hoped for from this latter point, I cannot write more fully than what I have done already. I will add merely, that if the Cardinal d’Amboise asks for anything else, such as the services of Gianpaolo, or for your troops, you must let him know that you cannot spare either, as you want them yourselves for the defence of your republic. . . . . But you cannot reason with him on this subject without his getting as mad as the devil, and calling God and men to witness that he would take up arms himself if any one but touched a hair of your head, or that he would lend his help, so that Romagna should not be exposed to greater dangers; and for this he thinks he will always be in time, as has been said. This is the substance of what I am able to write respecting the state of things here; and I do not believe that any one could write you anything else, if he wished to tell you the truth.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Niccolo Machiavelli

7 December, 1503

Rome

LETTER XLIII.

Magnificent Signori: —

I wrote the enclosed yesterday, and by the present I desire to inform your Lordships that the Cardinal d’Amboise leaves to-morrow without fail, and will pass to-morrow night at Bracciano. All the other Cardinals of this court have called upon him to-day, and he is really in great favor with everybody; for he has always been found easy of access and more affable than what was anticipated, he being a grand seigneur and a Frenchman. According to what I have been told confidentially, the Duke Valentino will remain here, although it is publicly said that he will accompany the Cardinal. I would remind your Lordships once more to send some one to meet him, for the reasons given in a previous letter.

I have spoken with Antonio Segni about the case of Mottino, and he said to me this evening that by to-morrow he would have something to tell me. I beg to remind your Lordships about the plundering of Don Michele, so that those Roman gentlemen may not act as Paolo Orsino has done. In a former letter I have written to your Lordships as to what should be done in this matter, and I refer to it again now.

Valete!

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Rome,

7 December, 1503

Niccolo Machiavelli

9 December, 1503

Rome

LETTER XLIV.

Magnificent Signori: —

Yesterday I received your letters of the 4th and 7th; as they contain nothing but the acknowledgment of my many letters up to that day, and the arrival of Messer Pietro d’ Oviedo and the Bishop of Ragusa, and a reference to what you intend to write in other letters, I have nothing to say in reply. I write the present for the sake of keeping up the habit of writing, and, as it will contain nothing of special importance, I shall send it by the regular courier. I have already written, on the 6th and 7th, respecting the departure of the Cardinal d’Amboise; and  as those letters were sent by a courier from Lyons, despatched in haste by the Del Bene, I doubt not but what they have reached you by this time.

The Cardinal d’Amboise did leave yesterday, but did not go as far as Bracciano; in point of fact, he went no farther than about two miles from here. He will lodge at Bracciano to-night, and will then go on to Florence to proceed from there into Lombardy. I do not repeat what I have several times written, about sending some one with him into Germany, assuming that your Lordships have already decided these matters.

The Duke Valentino continues to occupy a portion of the apartment which the Cardinal d’Amboise had in the palace, and was guarded to-night by some of the Pope’s men. It is believed that, for the purpose of avoiding this inconvenience, the Pope will have him shut up in the castle, although many things are rumored amongst the people, such as that the Pope has promised the Cardinal d’Amboise to release the Duke so soon as he shall have obtained those fortresses from him; and that the Duke’s daughter is to marry the Little Prefect, and that she is to have Romagna for her dower, etc., etc.

Your Lordships charge me to write you what the French and the Spaniards are doing, and what their condition, where they are, and what is said and believed about them. In reply, I say that I wrote fully on this subject on the 21st ultimo, and that both armies are in the same condition as then, only worse in proportion, as they have been suffering from want so much longer. To sum up the whole, I say, that several weeks ago the French threw a bridge over the Garigliano which enabled them to make themselves masters of the opposite side of the river, where they threw up a redoubt, which they still hold. But there are no more French on that side of the river than those who guard the redoubt, which amount to about two hundred men. All the rest of the French army is on this side of the Garigliano; about one fourth is near the bridge, the other three fourths are scattered in quarters, some five, six, and ten miles off. The Spaniards are on the other side of the Garigliano, where they have cut a trench about a mile’s distance from the French redoubt, and above this trench they have thrown up two bastions, which are provided with a guard. A good part of their army is near by, the rest is dispersed in quarters. Such is the relative position of the two armies; they can neither attack  nor force each other, being prevented by the river, and the rain that has fallen and continues to fall. Both are suffering the greatest discomforts, and it is believed that the one that can endure it longest will be victorious; but which of the two is likely to endure it longest is impossible to say at this moment, for here, as well as elsewhere, people are influenced in what they say by their passions only. And even those who come from the camp vary in their opinions, so that we can do nothing but quietly await the result. It is true that within the past few days the Spanish have made several attempts to destroy the bridge and drive the French out of their redoubt, but thus far they have not succeeded. Such is the state of things with regard to the armies; and so I wrote you on the 21st, since which the aspect of matters has not changed, and I should not know how to describe it differently to your Lordships. Should any change occur I will advise you of it, but if there is no change I should not know what to write you, wishing to tell you the truth about the matter.

In one of my previous letters I informed your Lordships that, in accordance with your instructions, I had spoken with Antonio Segni. To-day the said Antonio called to see me, and told me that he had spoken with Mottino, and learned from him, in substance, that his engagement with the French had expired on the last day of San Andrea, and that he would not renew it at any price. True, he says that he is not able to get his discharge from them, although he has been constantly after San Severino to obtain it. He expresses himself well disposed to serve your Lordships, but says that he is in no hurry. He has two galleys, but will not serve with only one, wishing to have both engaged, for which he would be satisfied to receive nine hundred ducats per month, and would give any security that your Lordships might require. He says furthermore, that, besides his own galleys, a brother of his has three brigantines, and that for three hundred florins per month he would immediately enter your Lordships’ service with all three. Your Lordships willnow consider what is best to be done in the matter, and send a reply.

I recommend myself to your Lordships.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Rome,

9 December, 1503

Niccolo Machiavelli

12 December, 1503

Rome

LETTER XLV.

Magnificent Signori: —

My last of the 9th, which I sent by the regular courier, will reach you probably at the same time with this one, which will go by an extra courier that is to be despatched this evening. I informed you in my last of the departure of the Cardinal d’Amboise, and of what I had learnt from Antonio Segni with regard to Mottino’s disposition. Since then I have received your last of the 8th, and have conferred with Castel del Rio respecting what you write about the Bishop of Ragusa and the two envoys with the countersigns. He showed himself fully informed on these subjects, and said that the Pope could not be better satisfied with your Lordships than he was. San Giorgio, to whom I also communicated your advices, assured me of the same thing. It is evident therefore that the Bishop of Ragusa has written favorably to the Pope, and given him an account of what your Lordships have done. Both Castel del Rio and San Giorgio showed that they knew the coming of the deputies from Furli; and when they arrive, his Eminence of Volterra or myself will carry out your Lordships’ instructions. Not having heard anything further of Don Michele, I have nothing to tell your Lordships respecting him; but should anything come to my knowledge, I will at once adviseyou of it. I would most respectfully remind your Lordships to reply to the Pope’s brief, and in such manner as will tend to confirm his Holiness still more in his benevolent disposition towards our republic.

I note what you write touching Citerna, and his Eminence tells me that in places of that kind it is usual to send only a Castellan to guard and take care of them. Your Lordships should therefore decide upon this matter, and send the name of the Castellan, provided you conclude to take that course; and let us know at the same time where we are to obtain the money for the expenses.

As to your grievances against the Duke Valentino, it is necessary that whoever may be charged by your Lordships to attend to this matter should have a power of attorney from you for that purpose. You should therefore appoint some one here to attend to the matter, or perhaps it would be still better if  you were to place it in the hands of one of the ambassadors whom you are going to send here.

The Duke Valentino remains in the same place where he was when I wrote you on the 9th, and we are waiting to see what the states of Romagna will do with regard to him. We have no further news from the French than what I have given you in my former letters; it is believed that, if the weather continues as at present, the two armies may be able one way or another to attempt some movement against each other.

Your Lordships direct me to leave with the Cardinal d’Amboise for Florence, and in case he should have left already, that I should come per post so as to arrive before him. Your letter came only yesterday, and D’Amboise left on Saturday, so that I should have to come by post, which would be painful and difficult for me, being afflicted with a malady that is very prevalent here at Rome, namely, cough and catarrh, which affect the head and the chest, so that the violent jolting of the diligence would do me serious injury. Anxious always to obey your Lordships’ orders, I should nevertheless have taken the risk, but his Eminence of Volterra would not consent to my leaving; for it seemed to him that, inasmuch as your ambassadors will not be here before twenty days, according to what you write, it would be very onerous for his Eminence, and injurious to the interests of Florence, if he had to remain here without some one of whose services he might avail in public matters. His Eminence was so decided upon this point, that, in the hope that your Lordships may not disapprove of it, I yielded readily to the authority of his Eminence, and influenced by his devotion to our republic, and by the confidence which all Florence reposes in him, and which he so deservedly enjoys. Nevertheless I shall conform strictly to your Lordships’ further orders.

Bene valete!

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Rome,

12 December, 1503

P. S. — I have forgotten to tell you that certain Roman gentlemen have handed the enclosed list of things which they have lost to the Cardinal Volterra, who promised them that this list shall be forwarded to your Lordships, and their case commended to you. Your Lordships will please send us what reply you may think proper.

Niccolo Machiavelli

14 December, 1503

LETTER XLVI.

Magnificent Signori: —

As this courier leaves unexpectedly I write in all haste to inform you of the latest events here. Yesterday evening news came to the French that the infantry of Gonsalvo, unable any longer to endure the privations they are suffering, mainly in consequence of want of money, have suddenly broken up their camp; so that Gonsalvo with his cavalry was obliged to withdraw to Sessa, where there is much sickness. This retreat was effected with so much noise and confusion that the French heard it, and sent a body of some twenty horse across the river to reconnoitre. These found that the Spaniards had broken up their camp, and had abandoned all their heavy baggage and things of little value. This detachment of French cavalry attacked the Spanish rear, and captured the baggage of Signor Prospero Colonna. This is the account which the French give of this affair, and they have exhibited letters to that effect. It is supposed that if this be true, and the weather permits, the French will be able to advance. Your Lordships shall be advised of whatever happens. I have some few other matters to mention, which I will do in my next, as this courier can wait no longer.

Valete!

Niccolo Machiavelli.

14 December, 1503

Niccolo Machiavelli

14 December, 1503

Rome

LETTER XLVII.

Magnificent Signori: —

I wrote your Lordships briefly to-day, and sent the letter by a courier despatched by the French here, which did not afford me the time to write more fully. Still I informed you of the news which the French here had from their army on the Garigliano; namely, that the Spaniards’ infantry, from want of necessaries, and not being regularly paid, broke up their camp contrary to the will of Gonsalvo, who was in consequence obliged also to retreat with his cavalry to Sessa, where a great  many of his troops are reported to be dying. It is also stated that the French, on hearing the noise of this retreat, sent some twenty horse to reconnoitre, who found the Spanish camp broken up as though in flight, and much of their heavy baggage, especially their cooking utensils, abandoned; and that these twenty horsemen had captured a portion of Signor Prospero Colonna’s baggage. This is all I have heard; should I learn anything more, I will report it to your Lordships. I have heard from Paolo Rucellai, who is on very friendly terms with the Orsini, that they have not yet received their quarter’s pay, according to promise, and that they had announced to Gonsalvo their intention to withdraw. We hear from all sides that there is great scarcity of money amongst the Spanish forces.

In a former letter I made known to your Lordships that the Signor Luca Savello had sent one of his men here to recommend himself, and to declare that he could no longer submit to the privations he was experiencing for want of money. Your Lordships have not yet replied to this, and Signor Luca’s messenger is in despair, and I know not what to say to him. Besides this Messer Ambrogio da Landriano came here yesterday in person with a letter of credit from the Bailli to the Cardinal, and complained bitterly to his Eminence and myself of the privations and misery which himself and his company are suffering; and he protests that, if the French had not supplied him with money, they would have died of hunger; and as he could not ask them for any more, he would be obliged to leave with his company, to the great discredit of your Lordships. That he was most unwilling to do this, having until now maintained his company as well as any other captain; and that out of his five hundred men, there were forty mounted and ten crossbowmen. He wants pay for at least one quarter and a half, besides the one hundred ducats due him on his former engagement.

I have promised him to write and recommend his case to your Lordships, which I do herewith, and beg you will send an answer which is so eagerly looked for. Messer Ambrogio left the camp eight days ago, and reports great scarcity of forage, bread, and shelter, and that there are not nine hundred good men-at-arms and only six thousand infantry left in camp, whilst the Spanish have received reinforcements of infantry. Nevertheless  he thinks that the news of the retreat of the Spanish forces, which he learned here, is most likely to be true; for he affirms that they were not able to pay for provisions, and that for several weeks they had forced the people of the country to bring them supplies. But as they probably cannot force them any more, they have themselves been compelled to go and seek supplies wherever they can be had. He reports three causes that until now have prevented the French from being victorious. The first and most important is, that they have lost so much time under the walls of Rome, — the very time that would have been most suitable for advancing without being impeded either by the river or by rain, for Gonsalvo was not then prepared to encounter them. The second cause was, that they had not sufficient horses for their artillery, which prevented them from making more than two miles per day. And the third was the severe winter, which still continues; and Messer Ambrogio affirms that whenever they had attempted any movement the weather had become twice as bad as before.

With all this he avers that, even if Gonsalvo had not beaten a retreat, he would not have ventured to attack the French, on account of their being in a very strong position and ready to give battle to whoever might attack them. When asked as to the chances of an advance, he said, that although Gonsalvo had retreated, yet if the ground did not dry up, and when dry, if they were not provided with more oxen, buffaloes, or carthorses, it would be impossible for them to move their artillery. He reports that the Bailli d’Occan is greatly dissatisfied at not being paid; and his Eminence of Volterra suggests that, if your Lordships think that you can relieve yourselves of that expense, you should lose no time in doing it.

Your Lordships’ letters of the 10th and 11th, directed to his Eminence of Volterra, under the supposition that I was on the road to Florence, were received to-day. The reason of my not having left was explained in my previous letter; it was that the Cardinal deemed my presence here necessary, and objected to my departure. We learn from your letters the reason why we have no news from Pietro, or Messer Carlo, or from the Bishop of Perugia. It will all be explained in the quarter where it is required; and the same with regard to what you say respecting Don Michele and the news from France. All this will be most gratifying to his Holiness, and particularly  the news of Don Michele; and we shall see to it that he is sent for at such place as your Lordships may indicate as most convenient to yourselves.

I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Rome,

14 December, 1503

P. S. — I must not omit to tell your Lordships that some days ago a former secretary of the Cardinal San Angelo has been arrested for the purpose of learning the particulars of the death of that Cardinal. And it is reported that he confessed two days since that he had poisoned him by order of Pope Alexander VI., and that he will be publicly burnt, and that the Cardinal’s cook and one of his butlers have fled. They are beginning here to take these matters up again. The Duke Valentino remains in the same situation which I have explained several times before. I beg to remind your Lordships that if you intend to proceed against him you must send a mandate to whomever you think proper, with power to substitute a procurator, etc., etc.

Niccolo Machiavelli

16 December, 1503

Rome

LETTER XLVIII.

Magnificent Signori: —

My last despatches were of the 14th; the first, together with a short letter, was sent by a courier despatched by the French here; and the second I intrusted to Giovanni Pandolfini, who told me he had sent it by the Ferrara post. This Giovanni complains that he has not been reimbursed for the expense of sending it, and has begged me to remind your Lordships of the fact. I do so now constrained by necessity, for if anything were to occur of which it would be important to give you immediate information, I should be without the means of doing so unless the claims of Giovanni had been satisfied. He also tells me that some one has written him, that, apart from the  other matter, his services in forwarding despatches are not appreciated, which has increased his dissatisfaction.

In my last letter I wrote you what I had learned about the Spaniards, and what had been told me by Messer Ambrogio da Landriano, who sends one of his men to Florence with letters from the Cardinal Volterra and myself, recommending him to your Lordships. I have nothing else to say of Messer Ambrogio, except that I await your reply with impatience, so that I may know what to say to him. The news respecting the Spaniards is confirmed, as you will see from the tenor of an extract from a letter written at Gaeta which I enclose. We are waiting to see what will come next; there are many who think that this affair will facilitate the conclusion of peace, unless some greater disaster should follow. Your Lordships will be promptly advised of whatever happens. Your last letters of the 11th, directed to Cardinal Volterra, have been communicated by him to the Pope, who was in the highest degree pleased at the surrender to him of Don Michele. It has not yet been decided when and how he is to be brought here. Our Cardinal thinks it will all be settled to-morrow. His Holiness was also much pleased with the news from France, but regretted that his envoys had been delayed by the snow; he bears it patiently, however, as the cause of it is a power higher than himself, and thus he remains in suspense as to the results of the mission of his  envoys. The Venetian ambassador is trying to placate his Holiness, but as yet he has not found the way of doing it. He is most assiduous in paying court to San Giorgio. Some persons here fear that he is endeavoring by his intervention to induce the Pope to acquiesce in the Venetians retaining Faenza and Rimini, and that in return they will favor the restoration of Furli and Imola to the nephews of San Giorgio. It is believed, however, that the Pope will not consent to this, nor are there wanting persons who are endeavoring to find out and thwart this intrigue. We are awaiting your final decision respecting Citerna, and your mandate in the matter of the Duke Valentino.

I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Rome,

16 December, 1503

Niccolo Machiavelli

16 December, 1503

Rome

LETTER XLIX.

Magnificent Signori: —

The bearer of this is one of the men of Messer Ambrogio da Landriano, who sends him to Florence to remind your Lordships of his necessities; and as I wrote you at length on the 14th upon this subject, I shall not enlarge upon it any further now; but refer to what I then said, and which will be fully explained by the present messenger to your Lordships, to whom I recommend him and Messer Ambrogio, as well as myself.

Bene valete!

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Rome,

16 December, 1503

SECOND MISSION TO THE COURT OF FRANCE.

COMMISSION GIVEN TO NICCOLO MACHIAVELLI, ENVOY TO HIS MOST CHRISTIAN MAJESTY THE KING OF FRANCE (LOUIS XII.)

Resolved upon, 14 January, 1504.

Niccolo, —

You will proceed per post, via Milan, to Lyons, or wherever you may learn that his most Christian Majesty is to be found, and you will take with you two letters of credence, one to his Majesty, and the other to the Cardinal d’Amboise; also two letters without any address, which you will make use of where it may be most necessary; and another for our ambassador there, Niccolo Valori, to whom you will explain on your arrival all the instructions we have given you. You will communicate everything to him, so that he may fully understand the object of your mission, and that he may in turn inform you of all that has taken place, and what he may have learned of the affairs of France since your departure from here. After that you will present yourselves together before his Majesty, and make known to him all the points herein specified, which we desire particularly that his Majesty should fully  understand, together with all the circumstances connected therewith; taking care not to omit any part, so as to make him see clearly to what condition our affairs here have been brought, and how they may yet be recovered; and that to save ourselves from destruction it has become necessary for us to see and understand clearly all his Majesty’s thoughts and designs.

One of the objects of your mission is that you may see with your own eyes what preparations they are making, and report to us immediately; giving us at the same time your own judgment and conjectures respecting them. And if these preparations are of such a character that we cannot depend upon them, either from their being too insignificant, uncertain, or too slow, then you must make his Majesty fully understand that it is quite impossible for us to provide forces enough to suffice for our safety; and that it would not be prudent for us to wait and place our reliance upon assistance that is not considerable, prompt, and real. Nor must you confine yourself to this only, but you must demonstrate to them the urgent necessity for us to seek our safety wherever we can find it; for the preservation of our state is before every other consideration, as that is the only small remnant of our liberties left to us, and which it behooves us to save by every effort in our power. And to arrive at this conclusion, it will be necessary for you to explain to his Majesty, as time and place may suit, the dangers with which we are threatened, on the one hand from the Venetians, and on the other hand from the Spaniards, who are acting in concert with each other. And you must make his Majesty comprehend the condition of our affairs; how on the one hand we are involved in war with Pisa, and how on the other the Venetians with an army are threatening our very borders; and how all our other neighbors, who ordinarily are badly disposed towards us, and more particularly so since the late defeat of the French, have already made terms with the Spaniards, or are upon the point of doing so; that we have but few troops, and these in great part scattered in different places, and the other part defeated in the kingdom of Naples whilst in his Majesty’s service; upon which points it is not necessary to give you any particular instructions, because during your stay here you had the opportunity of knowing it all yourself. The same with regard to the events in the Romagna, and what has  been learned from Rome respecting the determination of the Spaniards, and what little we may hope for from the Pope. And should you lack information upon any of these points, you will be able to get it from Niccolo Valori, to whom everything has been written, and to whom copies of all documents and despatches have been sent, which he has most probably all with him. In stating the dangers to which we are exposed, and the evil intentions of our enemies, you may also mention the coming of our banished to Castello and to Sienna. After having related all these things, together with the circumstances connected therewith, which you must do in the most effective manner, you will conclude by telling his Majesty that in consequence of these things we have sent you to him to learn his intentions, and to know what provisions he is making to maintain what remains to him yet of possessions and friends here. You will also show to his Majesty that Lombardy is in no small danger, unless he remedies it actively, and shows to the whole world that he will and can save both states; and finally, that we desire his Majesty’s counsel and help to save us and our state.

We believe that the answer will be vigorous, and that a variety of projects will be proposed; but our intention is that you should say, and we charge you particularly to reply, that such plans and resolutions will not suffice us, but that it is essential that they should send help at once, and of such a character that his Majesty’s enemies, and those of his friends, will have to desist from molesting his and their states; and that unless the assistance rendered us be of that character, we shall risk being attacked, which we desire to avoid; and that we do not wish to be compelled to seek our safety by other means; the same as in the contrary case we are resolved never to abandon his Majesty’s friendship, but to share his fortunes, whatever they may be, provided we see the way clear for our preservation.

You will explain to Valori that the principal cause that has induced us to send you on this mission has been a letter received yesterday from Alessandro, informing us that the engagement of Baglioni had been broken, and that we are consequently to provide for the payment of ten thousand scudi  at the period of every fair; and that our letters have been retained. All this seems to us an indication that they have cut loose entirely from our interests, and think only of their own; and that they abandon their friends, who have suffered so much for their sake, and leave them a prey to their enemies; and that they have no memory either for our fidelity or for the services we have rendered them. And as these are matters of much importance, it seems to us that, having to speak of them, it will be proper to make them understand that we deem it necessary to conclude Baglioni’s engagement, for the reasons of which you are fully cognizant yourself, and in accordance with which we have several times written to Valori. And as to the payment of the ten thousand scudi, you can say that we have no wish to fail either in our good faith or in our obligations, but that it is quite impossible for us to burden ourselves with any new expenditures; and as Baglioni’s engagement was for the benefit of their cause, and was made at their request, we cannot assume either the one or the other responsibility, and that they must acquit us of the obligation.

And should it be said in reply that we had never ratified the engagement, you may answer, that it was nevertheless concluded, and that we had the Cardinal’s pledge for it, which we do not hold in so little respect but what we deem it necessary for our honor to have that engagement definitely concluded. And moreover, we think matters ought to be so arranged that we may be able to keep our faith and comply with our engagements; for to be obliged to suffer, and to be assailed at the same time without seeing any refuge, would be more than we are able to bear. You will furthermore demonstrate to his Majesty, that neither the conclusion of an engagement with Baglioni, nor the release from all other obligations, will suffice in all the dangers that surround us; but that it is necessary for his Majesty to rouse himself and provide such help as we have indicated above. Upon all these points you will confer also with the most reverend Legate, with Nemours, and with all such others as may be able to aid in this matter with his Majesty the king. We desire you to use the utmost diligence in all this, and write us the result as soon as possible. And when you have executed our commission, and obtained all the information possible, you will return to your post here, unless the ambassador should think otherwise.

In passing through Milan you will call upon the most illustrious lieutenant, and explain to him also all the same matters, in such manner as may be most suitable; and above all you will endeavor to make him sensible of the dangers to which that state is exposed from the neighboring Venetians, and from the spirit that animates them; as also from the Spaniards, who, it is understood, are gathering their troops for the purpose of an advance; and that one of the most effective remedies against all this would be to sustain Tuscany, and to preserve her life until she shall have recovered her former strength. You will urge him to write to his Majesty upon all the points upon which you will have spoken to him; for experience has shown that few counsels have greater effect in moving his Majesty than those of his own officers.

We have explained to you, Niccolo, our necessities in a general way, and have commissioned you to ask of his Majesty of France aid and counsel as to what to do in the midst of so many dangers; and we judge it unnecessary to say anything more, unless it should be specially asked for. In case it be said to you that his Majesty is willing to make provision in our favor, but that we must say what remedies we think necessary, you may reply, that in our judgment the first thing to do would be for his Majesty to pass the Alps and to come to Milan, and to send fresh troops there; and that these, as well as those already there, should be so organized, and quartered in such places, as not to be exposed to any danger; that his Majesty, by virtue of his authority, should reunite all the states of Tuscany, take into his pay either the Colonna or the Orsini and add to their strength, and if not all, then at least a part of them, such for instance as the Baglioni, by means of whom he could make sure of Sienna, a matter very necessary to be thought of; that he ought to keep his fleet in our waters; and that he should endeavor to have the Pope openly declare himself for him; and in addition, as we have already written on a former occasion, to assure himself of the Swiss and of others, upon which point the Ambassador will be able to inform you, to whom we have written every day, keeping him fully advised of all that has occurred, and of all our views.

I, Marcellus Virgilius.

From our Palace, on the day above written.

Niccolo Machiavelli

22 January, 1504

Milan

LETTER I.

Magnificent and Illustrious Signori, etc. —

I arrived here this morning at about the twenty-second hour, and have had an interview with Monseigneur de Chaumont. I explained to him the object of my mission to the king, and that I had come by way of Milan, so that his Lordship might hear from me direct what I had to communicate to the king, and that he might write to his Majesty, and recommend to him the interests of his friends and of his own states, and point out to him the dangers with which they are threatened, and the remedies that should be employed. After that I communicated to him all I was instructed to say, and endeavored to make him sensible of the necessity that we should have assistance; but that such assistance should be real, as indeed the dangers were that threatened us. For if your Lordships should be abandoned, you would inevitably expect to see your city pillaged, and witness her total ruin; or you would have to make terms with those who aim to force you to do so, even if the conditions were anything but good. I spoke of the Venetians according to my instructions, as also of your Lordships’ neighbors, and of the confusion into which they had been thrown, and how necessary it was for the king to preserve them as friends, as well as to win back again those whom he had lost. In fact, I did my best not to omit saying anything that was essential for him to know in relation to this matter, without transgressing your Lordships’ instructions.

Respecting the dangers with which you are threatened, and the remedies to be applied, his Lordship answered in a general way, first, that he did not believe that Gonsalvo intended to advance, and then that, even if he should, the king would take good care of his friends, as well as of his own states; and that you need have no apprehensions on that score, as his Majesty would not fail in his promises. And when I observed that these assurances did not suffice for those who had the enemy, so to say, on their backs, and related to him the evidence which we had of Gonsalvo’s intention to follow up his enterprise, his Lordship said, “When Gonsalvo sees his Majesty’s fleet increased to double its strength, and learns that there is a large force in Lombardy, he certainly  will not advance.” I replied, that neither the fleet nor the troops in Lombardy could defend Tuscany. To which he rejoined that the Pope would be a good Frenchman, and that Giovanpaolo was in their pay, and that the Siennese would be able to make a stout resistance. I answered him by saying that both the Pope and the Siennese would want to see with their own eyes the assistance promised by the king, as neither of them had any forces of their own; that it was a good thing to have Gianpaolo Baglioni in one’s pay, but that his engagement ought to be definitely concluded. And I demonstrated to him how necessary it was to close this engagement, and not only to have Baglioni in their pay, but to bind him to serve the state.

I did my best to convince Monseigneur de Chaumont that there was no city in that part of Italy more suitable for being made a point of resistance than Perugia, by quartering there some four or five thousand infantry and four or five hundred men-at-arms; that its situation was one of the strongest, and that with such a number of troops it would be truly impregnable, and could not with safety be left in the rear. I persuaded him, so far as I was able, of the importance for them to preserve that city, and thus to acquire other Italian troops. After that we touched upon the subject of the alliances that should be concluded between your Lordships and the scattered little states of Italy, but to effect which would require the interposition of the king’s authority. His Lordship concluded to write to the king on that subject, as well as about the other matters which we had discussed. I begged him to send one of his own men to come with me, to which he replied that he would cause the post to run, and advised me to lose no time in finding the king, who, he believed, would give me a reply that would reassure your Lordships. And as I took my leave, he said in a voice loud enough for all around to hear, “Ne doutez de rien.” I have forgotten to tell your Lordships that the Lieutenant said nothing respecting the Venetians, except that he would make them attend to their fishing, and that they were sure of the Swiss.

This is all I have been able to get out of Monseigneur de Chaumont, and I have endeavored to give you his very words. Since then I have talked with one who is a friend of our city, and who recognized me, having been at court when I was there before; and having drawn me aside, he said to me, with great  show of regret, that he augured ill of the king’s affairs, for he knew that he could not raise any more money; that he had but few men-at-arms here, who were dispersed in different places, that he had no infantry, and that it would require a long time to provide both, but that there were no indications of their taking any steps about it; that on the other hand the enemy were ready in their saddles, fresh, and with all the prestige of victory and good fortune; so that he really knew not what help there was, not alone for his Majesty’s friends, but for his own states even. All this my friend said to me lamentingly, like one who feared these things, but not desired them. At another time I will give you the name of this individual, when I can do so without danger to him in case my letter should miscarry. Beyond the above, I can say nothing to your Lordships about matters here, not having been able in so short a time to learn more. I leave to-morrow about noon for Lyons; and recommend myself to your Lordships.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secretary.

Milan,

22 January, 1504

Niccolo Valori

29 January, 1504

Lyons

LETTER II.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

Yesterday at about the twenty-second hour, Niccolo Machiavelli arrived here, and having heard from his own lips the reason of his coming, and having read his commission, and it being already late, we thought it well to defer until this morning all attempts to present him to the king. Accordingly we went to court this morning for that purpose, and, having endeavored to obtain an audience, I was told that it would be impossible to see his Majesty that day, as he was suffering somewhat from dysentery; but that, if the matter was pressing,  we should speak to the Cardinal d’Amboise. I believe the excuse was true, for the king had refused to see some men sent by the Marquis of Mantua to present him some birds, for which he had asked the Marquis, and which he was very anxious to possess. Being thus precluded from seeing the king, we decided it would be well to see D’Amboise, and accordingly went to his lodgings. When I made known to him the arrival of the Secretary, he withdrew apart, where, after a few customary and suitable words on my part, Machiavelli presented his letters of credence to the Cardinal, and stated to him, so far as the time and the nature of the audience permitted, the object of his mission, which was in fact to point out the dangers by which our republic is threatened on the part of Gonsalvo and on that of the Venetians; as also from your being surrounded by a number of other enemies, some of whom have already declared themselves either for the Spaniards or the Venetians, and others were ready at any moment to do the same; and also because you have lost your troops in the kingdom of Naples, and find yourselves at the same time with the Pisans on your back, who were resorting to all the tricks of the infernal regions to injure you. He then showed that in all these threatening dangers you had but one confident hope, and that was in the assistance and arms of the king; but that inasmuch as the injuries were real, it was necessary that the help should also be real, and that he had been sent expressly to learn what assistance his Majesty intended to render us; and that it was earnestly desired that it should be of such character that our city might confidently rest her hopes upon them. All this Machiavelli said, with that animation which the subject demanded. Afterwards he added, that if his Majesty declined to grant us assistance, and such as the circumstances required, there would be nothing left for you but to make terms with those who were trying in every way to subjugate you.

His Eminence remained to listen to Machiavelli with evident displeasure, and showing himself to be much irritated; in his reply he complained much of these constant lamentations of your Lordships, who, being wise, should not in these times, and in the difficulties in which they are, use such language. He referred again to those points which I have already mentioned to your Lordships; saying that it was expected that the truce between Spain and themselves would be ratified, and that  in less than a week they would be fully informed upon that point; and that his Majesty would not fail, in any way or point, to protect his allies or his own states; and that if your Lordships wished to take another course, they could not prevent you, but that you ought to think well before acting. To this I promptly replied, that there was not a man in all Florence who thought that you would have to take such a step, for every one confidently believed that the king would not let us want for help; and that what had been said on the subject was merely to show to what point our city might be driven, in case the support of his Majesty should fail us. Thereupon Machiavelli, with his wonted sagacity and adroitness, added, with the view of soothing his Eminence and to come to something definite, and also to have occasion to speak of Giovanpaolo, that it should be borne in mind, that the way to save Tuscany would be to save her walls; and that these walls on the side towards Gonsalvo were the Pope, Sienna, and Perugia. His Eminence did not let Machiavelli say anything more, but quickly answered that they were sure of the Pope and of Sienna, and that, as Perugia was a city belonging to the Church, she would do whatever the Pope wanted; and thereupon he rose and left us abruptly. I must not omit to tell your Lordships that, in complaining of your lamentations, and in attempting to show us that the king was doing all he could, his Eminence said that those troops that had come from Gaeta into Lombardy, as it were in nothing but their shirts, were not willing to stop south of the Alps, and that a great part of them were no longer there, notwithstanding the orders given to stop them, and the sending of Monseigneur de Guiche to reorganize them, as I have already reported in previous despatches. And when I expressed to the Cardinal my desire that the king should hear from the Secretary himself the same that he had heard, he said that it would have no other result than to cause fresh troubles to his Majesty, if to the difficulties with his troops there were added complaints from his friends. After this, we could not induce his Eminence to remain or to enter upon any other subject.

When the Cardinal had left us, Machiavelli and myself concluded that it would be well to have this matter made known in every possible way; and therefore Machiavelli together with Ugolino went to see Robertet, whom until now I had not  visited, nor had he called upon me, as I had understood that he preferred that neither your Lordships’ ambassadors nor those from other states should be on such intimate terms with him, although in public they show him every mark of esteem and affection. When Machiavelli returned, he reported to me that Robertet, so soon as he saw him, said: “Do not talk to me now on any subject, for the Cardinal Legate has told me everything that you could possibly wish to say; and I repeat to you on his behalf that the truce with the Spaniard will, without fail, be ratified; and that whatever the terms may be, your safety will be provided for; and in case the truce should not be ratified, it will be known within a very few days. And I assure you that the king will defend Tuscany the same as Lombardy, for he has the safety of both equally at heart; and we must wait and see what issue the ratification of the truce will have.” The above is the substance of what we have been able to learn from these two personages, and your Lordships can now conjecture what you may have to hope for. Despite of Machiavelli’s tact, we did not succeed in touching upon the subject of Giovanpaolo, and we did not regret to defer it until another day, so as to avoid the appearance that Machiavelli had come here mainly on that account, which seemed to us the received impression here; for the abrupt breaking off of the interview by the Cardinal d’Amboise had apparently no other motive than to avoid a discussion of that matter. For after having told us that they had the best expectations for their cause from Pandolfo, and having briefly said of Perugia what we have above reported, he left us to go over to join Nemours and the other persons who were waiting for him. And notwithstanding that your Lordships had written to me to obtain the consent of the Cardinal to conclude the engagement of Giovanpaolo, the matter was in a measure left in suspense. But we shall do our utmost to bring it to a conclusion satisfactory to your Lordships; and if we fail, it will not be for want of efforts and diligence on our part.

I had written thus far on the 27th; it is now the 28th, and although both yesterday and to-day we endeavored to obtain an audience of the king, yet we did not succeed, owing to his Majesty’s indisposition both of mind and body, of which I have made mention in a previous despatch; for those who have  charge of his health strive to keep him from seeing or hearing anything that might cause him displeasure. To-day, almost immediately after dinner, I received a message from his Eminence the Cardinal Legate to come to him; I therefore went at once to his house accompanied by Machiavelli. Being admitted to where he was, we found him in council, where there were present the Grandmaster of Rhodes, Nemours, Robertet, and eight or ten other personages of the long robe. His Eminence then said to me, within hearing of all present, that he had me call because he could not, on the arrival of your secretary two days since, tell me his whole mind, partly because he had not had the opportunity of communicating with the gentlemen of the Council on the subject, and partly for want of time; but he wished now to do his duty, so that I might write to your Lordships, and keep you in good heart. He then added, almost in the same words, what he had said to me on a previous occasion; namely, that there would have to be either peace or war; and whether it would be the one or the other would be definitely known anyhow within the present week. If it be peace, as they believed it would be, then your Lordships, being the king’s allies and confederates, might rest in security; and if it be war, then you would find that your interests and those of his Majesty would be regarded as identical, and that nothing would be left undone to secure your safety. That orders had been given to assemble twelve hundred lances in the duchy of Milan, and that your Lordships ought also to do what you could, and take care, if possible, to prevent any troops from entering into Pisa. Also that they intended, so soon as they received the answer from Spain, to despatch an envoy to your Lordships to reassure you, and to apprise you fully of their plans and intentions. And in the course of his remarks the Cardinal said, that the king well knew that he had not in all Italy more faithful friends than your Lordships and the Duke of Ferrara, and that his Majesty meant to keep you such. His Eminence was so much more cheerful than I had yet seen him, that this very cheerfulness, and the fact of his having sent to have me called for no other purpose than to repeat to me what he had already told me, left me in doubt as to what all this could signify. I replied for the moment, that, seeing his Eminence and the Council in such good spirits, I could but rejoice and augur favorably from it; and that I was quite sure that, in the event of peace or of a  truce, your Lordships would have that position and that security which was due to your fidelity; but that in the event of war, your Lordships could do but little or nothing by yourselves; and that the twelve hundred lances would be a partial remedy if they were actually now in Lombardy, or would not have to lose time in getting there. And then I added such further remarks as seemed to me calculated to stimulate them to furnish you the needed help in case peace should not be had. I recalled to them the conduct of the Venetians, and the means and efforts employed by them to disturb and disorganize the duchy of Milan, and the states of the king. All I said was listened to with great attention; and Machiavelli, who was present as I have said, added that he would delay his departure until the decision of Spain should be received, so as to enable him to carry with him the good news of the agreement, or such resolve on the part of his Majesty respecting aid as would permit your Lordships to rely upon it with confidence; — to which D’Amboise replied that this was well. As the Council was more than usually numerous, I drew Machiavelli and Ugolino aside with me, and then reminded the Council, in any composition or agreement that might be arrived at, on no account to disparage our authority over Pisa; for if the Pisans were named by the Spaniards in any treaty of peace or truce, it would be looked upon as an evidence of their independence. Whereupon D’Amboise replied that such a thing would not be thought of, as they had the matter of Pisa much at heart. And referring again to our good faith, he spoke of the Venetians in a detrimental manner rather than otherwise, and spoke of Pandolfo in such terms as made me judge that they were not very sure of him, notwithstanding what he had previously said of Sienna, and which I have mentioned above; of Giovanni Bentivogli he said that he was an adherent of the Sforzas.

Your Lordships will see from all I have written what we have been able to learn, since the arrival of Machiavelli, of the situation of things here; and although his commission comprises, besides pointing out to the king and the Cardinal the dangers, the duty of seeing with his own eyes what assistance they are preparing to render us, and to learn their thoughts and designs, and then to report to you his own conclusions and conjectures as to the state of things here, nevertheless I do not deem it superfluous, or out of place, for my own satisfaction, to repeat to your Lordships  what I have already written you on a former occasion. His Majesty the king, and Cardinal d’Amboise, as well as all the gentlemen and nobles here, are, in consequence of the events until now, more disposed for peace than for war. They are carrying on negotiations for such a peace both with Spain and with the Emperor of Germany; the negotiations with Spain are at the same point which I mentioned in a former despatch, and the ratification of the truce is expected to arrive here during this week. Everybody here at court speaks of it and confidently believes it, and the Spanish ambassadors themselves express that opinion, and regard its arrival as certain. As for myself, I cannot judge of this matter differently from what others do; although I think, according to the experience of the past, it may or may not be, and that the earnest affirmations of the ambassadors may merely be intended to lull the king asleep as to measures necessary to be taken. All this we shall know very soon, as the time is fixed for the answer to arrive; and then we shall see the result.

As to the peace which they are trying to bring about with the Emperor of Germany, nothing definite has as yet been done; true, day before yesterday an ambassador of the Emperor’s arrived here, who is the secretary of that sovereign and greatly esteemed by him. They went to meet him outside of the city, and received him with great honors; but it is said that he has no commission other than to establish relations with his Majesty the king, until the arrival of his colleague, who has gone to the Archduke for the purpose of conferring with him before coming here; but no opinion can be formed as yet whether a peace will be concluded or not. We must wait for time to form a judgment upon this matter; but after the arrival of the other ambassador I shall not fail to watch their movements, and to advise you fully; and so for the present I shall say no more about it, as it is not yet of as much importance for your Lordships as the matter of Spain; which, if concluded and the truce ratified, as is hoped here, will render your Lordships safe from Gonsalvo and his troops. The Venetians will then also take care not to wrong or injure you. But if the truce should not be ratified, to which all the French hold so much, then I should not know what to say of their thoughts and intentions, and what provisions will then have to be made other than what I had written to your Lordships before, and what I write now, and of  which you will form such judgment as your wisdom will suggest. And if it so turns out that we shall have war, you can more immediately demand assistance through us, and they will no longer be able to take refuge in their hopes of peace, as they do now; for they must then show their hands, or satisfy your Lordships. As yet nothing has been said to me respecting the money due by your Lordships to the king at the time of the next fair; should they say anything to me about it, I shall reply in accordance with the instructions which Niccolo Machiavelli has brought with him.

I have omitted to tell your Lordships that, before leaving the Cardinal d’Amboiseto-day, I asked him whether he thought that I ought to call upon the newly arrived ambassador of the Emperor of Germany, since it was at his suggestion that I called, on my arrival, upon Monseigneur Philibert; I also asked him whether in his opinion I ought to call upon the Spanish ambassadors. He replied that I ought certainly to call upon both the one and the other, and spoke of them in the most amiable and honorable manner on the part of his Majesty of France. And accordingly I shall call upon both of them to-morrow, and should I learn anything of moment I will promptly advise your Lordships, quæ feliciter valeant.

Servitor

Niccolo Valori,
Ambassador.

Lyons,

29 January, 1504

Niccolo Machiavelli

30 January, 1504

Lyons

LETTER III.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I arrived here last Friday about the twenty-second hour, and thus fulfilled the promise made to your Lordships to be here within six days or sooner, deducting the time occupied in going to Milan. I have nothing to report as to my proceedings here, but confirm fully all that the Ambassador has written you at length. I am waiting for the expected ratification of the truce with Spain, after which I shall return, and bring with me either perfect security for our republic by means of the peace, or I shall bring instructions to prepare for war. And whether this will or will not result in safety for your Lordships I am not able  to say; but I know well that it would be impossible to change the minds of the people here.

I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Lyons,

30 January, 1504

N. B. — The individual whom I mentioned in my letter from Milan as having expressed to me so gloomy a judgment of the condition of the French there, is the Count Piccino da Novara. I write this so that your Lordships may attach more importance to his opinion, for he is well known by all who have been ambassadors to France.

Niccolo Valori

30 January, 1504

Lyons

LETTER IV.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

By the enclosed of the 27th, which has been retained until the 29th, your Lordships will have been informed of all that has taken place since the arrival of Machiavelli. That letter was not sent for want of the convenience of a courier, and from my desire to forward it free of expense. But as some one leaves this evening for Florence, I will not miss the opportunity of writing to your Lordships what I heard from the king, before whom I presented myself to-day immediately after dinner, accompanied by Machiavelli and Ugolino Martelli. We spoke to his Majesty conformably to what we had already twice said to the Cardinal d’Amboise, as reported in the enclosed. Nor did the king’s replies vary in general from what the Cardinal had said; but he added specially that he was organizing a new corps of fourteen hundred lances and twenty thousand infantry, and had given orders that very day that a cousin of D’Aubigny’s should be placed in charge of the citadel of Milan with one hundred Scottish lances, which he has collected for the purpose of reducing that stronghold to subjection; and that besides these he would send there some two or three hundred lances, of certain detached bands, which he would unite and send into that duchy. We did not fail to encourage him to this, and even to greater preparations, and to point out to  him that it would be highly advantageous for him to re-engage as many Italian troops as possible, showing him the course pursued in that respect by his adversaries. His Majesty replied that he would do so, but that it was necessary that your Lordships should take into your pay as many as you possibly could; adding, that the Pope had written him that he was forming a corps of four hundred men-at-arms, and that although he had given the captaincy to the Duke of Urbino, wishing thus to honor the Prefect, yet that this was merely a matter of courtesy; and that he should give orders that these troops should be commanded by able men, and such as were experienced in the profession of arms. His Majesty affirmed most energetically, and showed by his manner, that he felt sure of the Pope; respecting Spanish affairs and the ratification of the truce, he expressed the same opinion as the Cardinal Legate, which I have communicated to you in the enclosed, and he said that by Friday the answer ought to be here, and that then your secretary could return to Florence, either with the news of the definite conclusion of the truce and peace, or of war. Here we did not fail to remind his Majesty, in the event of war being the result, of the measures necessary to be taken for the protection of his own interests as well as those of his allies; the most important of which measures were to have a large fleet at sea, and to strengthen Tuscany with good troops.

It remains for me to inform your Lordships that, before our interview with his Majesty, the envoy of the Marquis of Mantua, and another individual who came here by post, sent by that prince, had an audience of theking. I could learn nothing of the object of their coming, except what his Majesty told me so soon as I presented myself; namely, that these gentlemen had been sent by the Marquis of Mantua for no other purpose than to urge him to attack the Venetians; and that he, on his part, would not fail to furnish what troops and men-at-arms he could possibly raise for that purpose. His Majesty added, that the envoy from Ferrara had made him similar offers; to all which I replied in a becoming manner, urging his Majesty to take that course.

To-day the ambassadors of the Emperor of Germany dined with the Cardinal Legate; they have as yet not had an audience of the king, and it is believed that the reason is that his Majesty wishes first to know what propositions they bring,  so as to prepare himself to manage the business with the more credit to himself. The ambassador from Genoa gave us to understand, this morning, that by order of his Majesty and his own government all their vessels that were in port were to be stopped, as he wished to arm them for his service; from the same source we learn the death of the Marquis of Saluzzo. We hear furthermore, from various quarters, that the king has sequestered all the revenues of Monsignor Ascanio; and that he has sent for a number of Milanese gentlemen, noted as being of the Sforza party, and has banished them to different places, fixing the time when they must report themselves there.

After writing thusfar, I went to make my visit to the Spanish ambassador, as agreed with the Cardinal Legate yesterday. I conversed with him on general matters, having due regard to the honor of both sovereigns, as well as that of your Lordships. He replied to me most graciously, and in the course of his remarks assured me that the ratification of the truce would unquestionably come, and would not be delayed beyond this week, and might even reach here this very night.

I mention this to your Lordships, so that you may know what I have learned from that ambassador; beyond which I have nothing to report.

I recommend myself humbly to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Servitor

Niccolo Valori,
Ambassador.

Lyons,

30 January, 1504

Niccolo Valori

last day of January, 1504

Lyons

LETTER V.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

We wrote to your Lordships yesterday, since which it happened that, whilst the Cardinal d’Amboise was at chapel this morning, we approached his Eminence, who had been conversing for a considerable time with Monseigneur Philibert, and not without some discussion between them. After some general remarks and other observations, such as we have mentioned before, the Cardinal said that it seemed to him noteworthy  that Gonsalvo was doing all he could to interrupt the peace negotiations, although he hoped that Gonsalvo would be constrained to obey; and even if he were not, that your Lordships, with the aid and favor of his Majesty of France, would not only be able to defend yourselves, but even to keep Gonsalvo in check. To all this we replied in such manner as we thought to the point, and which we will not weary your Lordships with repeating, having written the same thing before. A friend of your Lordships reported to me the same thing, with the further statement that there was an indication that, in the expected ratification of the agreement, there might be something that would delay its final conclusion until their Catholic Majesties should first be informed of Gonsalvo’s opinion upon it; but that nevertheless the ratification was regarded as certain. I should, however, feel that I had failed in my duty and my office, were I not to report to you daily what we hear.

Nothing else has occurred here worthy of your Lordships’ notice. To-day or to-morrow the other Imperial ambassador is expected here; he is called the Count Gaspar de Verespony, and comes accompanied by one of the Archduke’s confidential men. It was by the Emperor’s orders that these ambassadors went to the Archduke, so that their mission here might be conformable to the views of both father and son. According to what we hear, the ambassador who is already here is a man of high consideration, and bears the title of Chancellor of the Province, but he is not to have an audience of the king until after the arrival of his colleague. We have an excellent opportunity of finding out the designs of these ambassadors through one of their countrymen, who is in our interest. So far as we have been able to learn, they are greatly incensed against the Venetians, and inclined to make terms with the king here, intimating, however, that the Archduke will not yield any of the conditions for the protection of his property that had been subjects of discussion under the former treaty; and he particularly claims the kingdom of Naples as a dowry, as had already been a subject of negotiation. Iwrite these statements such as they are to your Lordships, inasmuch as they are secrets reserved for but a few. Some of the suspected Milanese who have been recalled are beginning to make their appearance here.

I have nothing further of interest to communicate at present,  having written you yesterday at length; and nothing has occurred here but what I have stated above. I will only observe that we neither see nor hear anything as to preparations for war beyond the fact that everybody’s thoughts are directed to the providing of money. A good deal is said about laying a tax of ten per cent upon the priests, and about resorting to all possible measures for collecting this revenue, which, according to their opinion, will produce large sums. Beyond this I think of nothing else to mention. Bene valeant DD. VV., to whom I humbly recommend myself.

Servitor

Niccolo Valori,
Ambassador.

Lyons,

this

last day of January, 1504

Niccolo Valori

2 February, 1504

Lyons

LETTER VI.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

Should it seem to your Lordships that I have deferred too long since my arrival to write, it is owing solely to the want of facilities for sending my letters without involving you in expense. But we have not and shall not neglect to make every effort, by all the means at our command, to move and favorably dispose the king and the Cardinal Legate towards our republic; nor do we omit to do everything in our power to influence those who surround his Majesty to induce him to think of the security of your Lordships. It is this probably that has caused my receiving a visit at my lodgings to-day from Messer Claudio, who is much employed nowadays by the Cardinal Legate, and is the Datary in place of Narbonne. He told me, on behalf of his Eminence, how well they were disposed, and how they gave their continuous thoughts to the means for relieving their own condition, and for the security of their friends, and that he had come again to ask me what I could suggest upon that point; adding, that it seemed to them that Pisa was in the greatest danger, and most exposed to the power and will of the enemy, who would, if they came there, cause more ruinous effects than anything else that could at  present be thought of; and that, if it were possible to open some communication with the authorities of that city to encourage them not to despair and throw themselves into the arms of the Spaniards or the Venetians, it was believed that it would be most opportune, and for the common security and benefit; but that they would do nothing without the consent and participation of your Lordships; adding that, whenever it was in the power of his Majesty, there would not be wanting ways and means within a few years to satisfy your Lordships. I replied that your Lordships had brought the necessary remedies most urgently to the notice of his Majesty and of the Cardinal Legate, as well as to that of the Council when his Majesty himself was present; and that they must have seen from your letters, as also from your having so recently sent your secretary here by post, that your Lordships have not failed in your duty. But that I believed that it was our ill fortune that the consideration shown to us should have been so unequal to that which another potentate of Italy had received, who, through their coming into Italy, and by his having so often deceived them, had acquired so great a state in Lombardy and in the Romagna; whilst we, after such strict observance of our engagements, our constant fidelity, and the loss of one third of our state, had to make such efforts to persuade them, with so little satisfaction to ourselves as well as to them, to what was no less for the advantage of his Majesty the king, than for that of your Lordships. And if ours was but “a mere song,” as his Eminence the Cardinal Legate had been several times pleased to call it, we should leave it to others to sing it, were it not that we should be the first to suffer. But that if his Majesty wished to maintain his states in Italy, as well as his friends, then he ought to put faith in the Italians; and that it was of the first necessity for your Lordships, as the most effective remedy for your difficulties, that his Majesty should place at least eight hundred to one thousand men-at-arms in Lombardy, secure the Swiss by all means, and carefully watch matters in Genoa by keeping his fleet there; as also to draw towards himself as many friends in Italy as possible, and that mainly from amongst the military men. That his Majesty should bear in mind that neither the Pope nor your Lordships could or should be constrained by force, and that he ought to have confidence in us, whom, after so much experience, he  ought to trust as he would his own subjects. And that if Gonsalvo, through the Cardinal Santa Croce or others, influenced the Pope adversely, no means should be left unemployed to show his Holiness that his Majesty, so far from abandoning his interests in Italy, has these as well as those of his friends constantly in his thoughts. That as to what preparations ought to be made in France, in view either of peace or of a mere truce, I could not venture to give any advice, although I would repeat the words of King Louis, who used to say that “it was always during the negotiations that he made greater and better preparations than during peace.” As regards Pisan affairs, I said that his Majesty knew well that it was the duty of an ambassador to hear all that was proposed, and then to communicate it to his government, and that I intended so to act. That I was well aware of the importance for Italy to be well armed, so that she might employ her force whenever necessary; for if powerful princes used words without arms to enforce them, it only served to compromise their dignity. I was answered, that this matter would present no difficulties, for they knew that the company of the Venetians was far from agreeable to the Pisans, and that they were more inclined to trust the French than the Spaniards; that if these negotiations with the Pisans succeeded, then both themselves and your Lordships would be relieved of great dangers; and if they did not succeed, your Lordships as well as his Majesty the king would better understand the Pisans, and that then by common accord better remedies could be devised; and that even if these negotiations with the Pisans were protracted for some length of time, your Lordships should not at once be discouraged.

I made my usual reply, that I would write to your Lordships, as you required me to do, for without special orders or instructions I could not venture to say anything on the subject. Your Lordships must know that all these arguments have been repeated by them several times, and that they evidently have this matter much at heart; for yesterday morning, at the Celestines, the Pope’s ambassador spoke to me about it, adding however that Pisa might be placed in the hands of the Pope, to which the French would perhaps consent. Nemours said the same thing afterwards to the ambassador from Ferrara, and urged him to persuade me to write at once to your Lordships  about it. Your Lordships must now instruct me precisely what I am to answer, and how I shall conduct myself, and I shall keep strictly within your mandate and instructions.

The Imperial ambassadors together with the Archduke’s agent had an audience of his Majesty to-day; the impression is, that at this first interview only general matters were discussed. I have not yet called upon these ambassadors, for I was waiting until after they should have had their first audience. I shall speak again to the Cardinal Legate about it, and follow his suggestions, as I have had no instructions from your Lordships upon this point; his Eminence had approved my manner, as well as the remarks which I made to the Spaniards, which seemed to have been very agreeable to him. Through our German friend we learn, from what he has found out by pretty sure means from the Emperor’s ambassadors, and especially the younger one, that his Imperial Majesty is resolved, come what may, to make a descent into Italy this summer, with a large force of his own troops; but that his coming will not be very agreeable to King Frederic, for he knows that the Archduke wants the kingdom of Naples as a portion for his son. In the same way I learn that the ambassador who is called the Chancellor of the Province has frequent conferences with the Spanish ambassadors, and shows them marks of esteem and confidence, and that that ambassador bears the same relations to the Emperor as the Cardinal Legate does to the king of France. On the other hand, these Spaniards aver that their Catholic Majesties, by way of easing their minds and conscience, desire to re-establish the son of King Frederic upon the throne of Naples, by giving him their niece for wife. These diverse accounts would seem to indicate some difficulty in the peace negotiations. And although it would appear reasonable that the Emperor will not make a descent into Italy without the good pleasure of these two sovereigns, and without having concluded a peace with his Most Christian Majesty, yet it is said that he is collecting troops, and has asked the Swiss for five thousand Vj.as (?). These people are reported to be well inclined for such a descent, and particularly those of the three Cantons nearest to the confines of the duchy of Milan.

About four days ago a man from that country was brought before his Majesty and reported to him the above-mentioned  order from the Emperor, and the favorable disposition of the Swiss for such an enterprise, together with some particulars as to their demand for a cession of Como and other places; but his Majesty showed that he did not attach much importance to this report, feeling quite sure of the Swiss.

Now I wished to inform your Lordships of all I could find out in relation to these matters, so that, in your wisdom, you may form your own judgment upon them; particularly seeing the delay in the arrival of the ratification of the agreement, and that the truce with Spain will soon expire, and that they are not doing much here in the way of preparations, but continue to affirm that they regard the ratification as certain. We must form our judgment therefore from one day to another, as events may occur; but we shall continue to be watchful, so as to keep your Lordships better informed if possible, and to be able the more promptly to solicit assistance, in case the ratification should after all not come. Niccolo Machiavelli will remain here a few days longer.

Yesterday a cousin of the Bailli d’Occan came to me, and told me he had not yet had his pay for six months’ service, and wanted us to provide for it. I answered him that I believed they did not keep their accounts well, but that I would write to your Lordships for instructions upon the matter; although things had come to that pass that it was necessary for you to think of spending no money except in defence of your own interests, which were closely united and bound up with the defence of the states of his Majesty. It was with some difficulty that I got rid of this man, who kept saying to me that he intended anyhow to speak to his Majesty and the Cardinal Legate about it. I beg your Lordships will instruct me in relation to this matter, for this man is a perfect wasp; they are all starved and ruined, and I wish very much you would write me whether I shall do anything to make it known that the engagement of Baglioni is terminated, for this cousin of his demands it. And although I told him in so many words that death settled everything, and that such was your Lordships’ understanding of the matter, yet I wish you would instruct me whether you think that I ought to go any further.

The generals have sent to claim from Ugolino the payment of ten thousand ducats due at the last fair, as had been agreed, and to ask at the same time whether the ten thousand  ducats due at the present fair were ready, together with what was due on the past. Ugolino told me that he had replied that he would speak to me about it; but that this did not satisfy them, and that they wanted to speak to me themselves, as also to the king and the Cardinal Legate, inasmuch as this money had been assigned to them. When they come to talk to me about it, I shall reply in accordance with your Lordships’ instructions. I have nothing else of interest to communicate to your Lordships, to whom I recommend myself, quæ feliciter valeant.

Servitor

Niccolo Valori,
Ambassador.

Lyons,

2 February, 1504

Niccolo Valori

7 February, 1504

Lyons

LETTER VII.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I have to-day received your Lordships’ letters of the 26th, 28th, 29th, and 31st ultimo, and of the 1st instant, for which I had been truly anxious, for it had seemed to me a very long time to be without news from Florence. Your Lordships must have received my several letters which I have sent since the arrival of Machiavelli, written on the 27th, 29th, 30th, and 31st ultimo, and from which you will have learned all that we have been able to do since then, and what hopes and conjectures we have formed as to help from here for ourselves and the other allies and states which his Majesty has in Italy. Your Lordships will also have noticed what I wrote more especially in regard to Pisan affairs in my enclosed despatch of the 2d instant, which was not sent sooner because no couriers have been sent to Italy since then. And so as not to fail in anything that could possibly be done to promote your interests, and to arouse their feelings in our favor, we went immediately on receipt of your letters to his Majesty the king, whom I found still in bed, where he has been confined for more than a week. He seemed to me to look better than usual, and, according to what his Majesty himself said, he was in the best way of getting over his ailment. I communicated to him the advices I had from your Lordships, also those from the Romagna, as well as those from Rome which I had received  from his Eminence of Volterra, who never fails to keep me fully posted by every courier upon every point which the interests of our republic make it necessary for me to know. I spoke again to his Majesty of the dangers that threaten, first his friends, and then his own states in Italy, and what measures were necessary to avert them. Although our conversation was fragmentary, as seems to be the way in which all business matters are treated here, yet I was careful to touch again upon all the points embraced in your Lordships’ instructions for the advantage of Italy. And as I surmissed that the Venetians are carrying on some secret negotiations with his Majesty, I advised him well to watch their proceedings, as they would certainly deceive him underhandedly; and I demonstrated to him that they had no real intention of making terms with him, but that it was a mere pretext for obtaining better terms in the arrangements they were negotiating with the Emperor of Germany and with Spain. Upon this point his Majesty replied to me to be of good cheer, that he would never make terms with the Venetians, and that the Milanese had offered him one hundred thousand ducats if he would make war upon Venice; and that he would in any event enter into an arrangement with the princes of the Empire and with the Emperor himself, and that conjointly with the Emperor they would beat Venice and Spain together, in case Spain did not consent to peace or to a truce. On the one hand his Majesty seemed to apprehend lest Gonsalvo should disturb the proposed peace, and on the other hand he spoke confidently of concluding an arrangement, unless the king of Spain should demand conditions that were not acceptable to him.

The hostile disposition of the king towards the Venetians manifests itself in many other ways besides his own words; for this very day, after the audience, I met the ambassador from Ferrara, who told me that he had also spoken with the king this morning, and that his Majesty had said to him that he wished that his Duke would, for the love of him, once more put on his armor against the Venetians, and that before dying he wanted anyhow to recover the states which they had taken from him. His Majesty entered fully into the reasons which I suggested to him relative to the affairs of Pisa, showing that he believed that it was from that quarter that your Lordships were more exposed to attack than from any  other; and for that reason, he said, he had caused M. de Ravenstein to open certain secret negotiations with the Pisans, so that they might not throw themselves into the arms of Gonsalvo, or of any one else; adding, “that if two or three thousand infantry entered Pisa, they could disturb your Lordships’ state very much, and that in such case it would be very difficult to take the town by force.” His Majesty came back several times to this argument, so that it is evident that he had the matter much at heart, as I have explained to your Lordships at length in the enclosed despatch. And yet it is affirmed here that there is no intention to make any arrangement with Pisa without your consent and participation; it is necessary, therefore, that your Lordships should write me your views upon this point, and how I am to manage this matter if pressed to something definite. Respecting the provisions to be made for his own safety, and for that of his allies, his Majesty held the same views which I have before communicated to your Lordships; and although we have reminded him of the importance of taking Italian troops into his pay, yet it does not appear that he responds in a manner to give any hope for it; and what makes me believe that he is in no way disposed to do it is that the envoy of the Marquis of Mantua told me, that the said Marquis had sent a man expressly to ask the king’s permission to raise fifty Italian men-at-arms in place of the fifty French lances which he has engaged from his Majesty, but his request was not granted, which fact, in every respect, deserves your consideration. We did not omit to urge upon the king again to remember his friends in the agreement which is being negotiated, and to save them, which he has promised to do. After taking my leave of his Majesty, I thought it proper to call with Machiavelli upon the Grand Chancellor, whom, for good reasons, I had not seen since the arrival of Machiavelli. I was more particularly induced to do this, as I had not been able to speak to the Cardinal Legate; and accordingly we went to see the Chancellor, and said to him all we could under the circumstances respecting his Majesty’s affairs, as well as our own and those of the rest of Italy. His Lordship received us very cheerfully, and seemed to listen to my remarks with great interest; he spoke himself of passing events, and what he thought of them, and of his hopes for a favorable issue; and said, in substance, that the king, for  his part, had not the least fear, for that whoever should attempt to assail the king in his proper states of France would find out their mistake. And here he gave us an account of the king’s forces, and referred to the example of the past, etc., etc. And as regards the duchy of Milan, they would anyhow within two months have a thousand French lances there, and could send there at any moment six thousand infantry; but that his Majesty did have some fears for his friends who were more open to attack. But looking at it on the other hand, that he held the duchy of Milan, which forms a considerable part of Italy, and that the Pope and all Tuscany were his friends, it seemed to him that he had more than a mere party in Italy, and that if they did their duty, sustained by the power and good will of the king, they would be well able to defend themselves. He came back several times to this point, saying that your Lordships ought to show some vigor and take good care of Livorno, pointing out its importance and its convenience for the French fleet, as well as for your defence.

I remained a long time with the Chancellor, and did not fail to reply to that part of his remarks which seemed most suitable; telling him that it was well for him to say that we ought to take vigorous measures, but that the difficulty was the lack of power to do so, giving him the reasons; and that therefore it was necessary that the king should make such display of vigor, and pointed out to him that there were two ways of his doing so. The one was to bring about a union between the Pope and all Tuscany, Bologna, Ferrara, and Mantua, so that these different members should become one body, and that their united power might act with greater effect; and to bring this about, it was necessary to send some sagacious man, charged with this object, to the several parties. The other way was for the king to take into his pay as many Italian captains as he possibly could, adding that there were not so many military men in Italy but what he could in a very short time engage the greater part of them, provided he was willing to spend his money for that purpose. And as an example we cited our own republic, which in former times, when she was not torn to pieces as now, had many times, with nothing but her money, taken their arms from her enemies. We also cited the example of Gonsalvo, who achieved victory with Italian troops. These arguments satisfied him, and he promised his  efforts to bring about either one or the other. Upon the point of employing Italian troops, however, he stated that out of the one thousand lances which they were going to send into Lombardy, as stated above, there would be more than four hundred Italians; and he seemed to wish to infer that, so far as to the taking of Italians into their pay, they had done their part, and that it was for their friends now to do the rest.

Thus, not having been able to see the Cardinal Legate to-day, we have not gathered any further information than what we have above written. Your Lordships will now form such judgment of it as your wisdom will suggest, and see what hopes it will be safe to build upon it. And as there is as yet no solution of the Spanish business, no answer having been received from there, although there is some talk at court that it has come, I have not permitted Machiavelli to leave here, because our intention is to make his departure the occasion for pressing them here a little more, and to see whether we cannot get something more out of them, although I doubt it; and many persons begin to doubt whether this Spanish business has not been protracted on purpose, and that the French have been deceived. It is said that an agreement has been concluded with the Swiss, who promise to serve the king within the duchy of Milan and in France, but nowhere else. If this be true, then it is very opportune. The German ambassadors have to-day received an express from his Imperial Majesty, who is at Olemberg; this messenger made the trip in five days, and after his arrival Robertet passed full two hours or more with the ambassadors, and has written much. It is believed that they are drawing up the articles of agreement. Another envoy of the Archduke is expected here, who is said to hold a high position near that prince. It is evident now that the king mistrusts the treaty with Spain, and has entirely turned towards the Germans; and it is suspected that he is disposed to dissuade the Emperor from his purpose of coming into Italy, and thus save the Italians from seeing every day new faces. There is one indication that I have noticed which makes me believe that these things may well be so, for the Germans no longer exert themselves as much as they did, nor do they see the Spanish ambassadors as often as they used to do, and as I have mentioned in one of my letters. From all these facts your Lordships will form such conjectures as your wisdom will  suggest; and if I have the opportunity of speaking with the Cardinal Legate to-morrow, as I think I shall, I will write to your Lordships what I learn from him, and will send it by the first messenger that is despatched for Italy. I have nothing further to say, except to recommend myself humbly to your Lordships, quæ felicissime valeant.

Servitor

Niccolo Valori,
Ambassador.

Lyons,

7 February, 1504

Niccolo Valori

9 February, 1504

Lyons

LETTER VIII.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

Your Lordships will have seen from the enclosed of the 7th what has been done since the receipt of your last letters. Despite of all my efforts yesterday to speak to the Cardinal Legate I did not succeed, for he is suffering, it is said, from a violent catarrh, and neither dines nor sups in public, as is his wont. Being thus unable to do anything else, and feeling that we ought not to neglect anything we could possibly do, we went to see Robertet and pointed out to him very fully where the difficulty and complication of the matter really lies; and as he has better opportunities for communicating with the Legate, we left him certain extracts from the letters received, which briefly give the substance of all we have heard from Florence; and by way of spurring them up, we said to Robertet that Machiavelli was determined to return even without concluding anything. Robertet, showing that he was startled by this, said that Machiavelli ought to stay a few days longer, at least until the Spanish business was either closed or broken off, so that he might return with something definite. As mentioned in a former despatch, Robertet had from the first approved of your having sent Machiavelli here. I have seen the Pope’s ambassador, and, in talking over with him the events of the day, we agreed to call together this morning on the Cardinal Legate, to see whether we two could not bring matters to a better conclusion than what until now I had been able to do, having due regard to the information respecting the state of things in the Romagna contained in your Lordships’ letters; and to see  whether we could not induce the Legate to take steps for bringing about that league of the Italian states which we had suggested. Also to know clearly whether they intended to engage Italian troops for the defence of the Church and their other friends, although I have great doubts upon this point, for the reasons which your Lordships will have noted in my enclosed despatch. We went accordingly this morning to call upon D’Amboise, but did not succeed in obtaining an interview, and have appointed another hour of the day for that purpose. As, however, this courier leaves, I would not miss the opportunity of writing to your Lordships what has been done up to the present. It is true that Robertet and the Chancellor have been with D’Amboise this morning, and, as they remained a long while with him, I believe they must have talked over among them the subject on which we have said so much to them. We have done all that can be done, and have not neglected trying to know all and do all in our power. I will not omit to inform your Lordships what I have learned from a friend who had a conversation with the Spanish ambassadors, who, upon his remarking as to the delay in the answer from Spain, said to him, that he must not be much surprised at that, for they doubted whether the king of Spain would settle anything until after having first freed the entire kingdom of Naples of the French; and that the king of Spain well knew what it meant to make a truce whilst Louis d’Ars was in Venosa, or in any other place within the kingdom of Naples. Every day some of the French, who come back from there, die; quite recently Sandricourt and the Bailli de la Montagne died. This is all that occurs to me to say. Bene valeant DD. VV., quibus me commendo.

Servitor

Niccolo Valori,
Ambassador.

Lyons,

9 February, 1504

Niccolo Valori

11 February, 1504

Lyons

LETTER IX.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

My last letters were of the 2d, 7th, and 9th instant, and were sent by a courier despatched by Neri Masi; they will have informed your Lordships of the state of things here, and what we  have been able to do here since receiving your last letters. Although I endeavored to see the Cardinal Legate yesterday, as already stated in my last, yet I failed to obtain an interview, as he is still confined to his chamber, and no one has been admitted except the Chancellor, Nemours, and Robertet; and so far as I can learn, they have been occupied with orders and despatches for the regulation of matters in the kingdom of Naples and the duchy of Milan. Being however at the Legate’s lodgings this morning, I succeeded, after some little effort, in obtaining an interview with him. In reminding him of our affairs, I mentioned to him what the Spanish ambassadors were reported to have said about the delay of the ratification of the truce, of which I informed your Lordships in my last of the 9th; to which he immediately replied, although having listened attentively to all that had been said, that the Spanish ambassadors had notified him that the ratification had been received, and that they intended to call upon him that evening in relation to that matter, and that he would then inform me of the result. I expressed my pleasure at this on account of the general good; and without any further remarks, seeing that he was very much occupied, I took my leave. Anxious to learn something more upon this important subject, I called at the king’s lodgings, thinking that from his frank way of speaking I might get a little more at the bottom of this matter. I was finally admitted to his Majesty, who was still at table, and at a convenient moment I broached in a suitable manner the subject of the news which I had heard from D’Amboise. His Majesty promptly replied that the ratification had come, but that he was not satisfied with it, and could have wished rather that it had not come; affirming, with an oath, that he would give a great deal not to have promised the Spaniards what he had done; but having given his word, he would keep it, for he would sooner die than break his pledge, affirming again that, if he were now called upon to make such a promise, he would certainly not do it; for that he had made entirely sure of the Swiss, and was upon the point of making terms with the Germans, from which he hoped great good; so that he was now in condition to chastise those who had offended him.  And here he mentioned the Venetians by name, adding that, cost what it may, they must be destroyed; and that he felt sure that for such a purpose you would give your men-at-arms, and do all that was in your power. He said, furthermore, that he would very soon have one thousand men-at-arms in Lombardy, and that there was money enough ready to pay at once eight thousand Swiss, and make them descend into Italy whenever it might be necessary, either for his defence, or for that of his friends, or for attacking his enemies; and that he should not want for either men or money. Also, that he had issued a new order in France, besides the regular troops of the line, to organize and keep ready for service a corps of eighteen hundred nobles, each of whom was to have three horses for service. And he spoke again of the twenty thousand infantry which he kept ready, and said, with much animation, that he intended neither to abandon his own interests nor those of his friends, that he was in better health than he had been for ten years, and that his illness had been caused by nothing but his displeasure at the base conduct and wickedness of his troops; but that it was necessary for him to have patience, and to reorganize his forces, which he should not fail to do, leaving nothing undone in that respect. He also said, that we might consider the peace with the Emperor of Germany as assured, and that we ought to be of good cheer, as he should not fail in anything that was due to our republic, and would allow no one to touch a hair of your head; and that to be wanting to you now would in fact be wanting to himself; that he esteemed Florence as much as he did Milan or any other of his own states. And that if the Emperor passed through Italy to go to Rome, by whatever route he went, he would hold him in check by having him accompanied by a good portion of his own, and by some of your Lordships’ troops, so that the Emperor should not be able to do anything without the will and consent of others. That possibly it might happen that he would himself come into Italy; but that under any circumstances it would be proper to treat the Emperor well, to be liberal towards him in all outward ceremonies, and to show him all the customary honors due to so great a prince; and in case of any disaster befalling him on the road, we might aid him with some men and some money. And then his Majesty said: “I assure you that the Emperor is ill disposed towards those Venetians, and I know that you feel even worse towards them;  and as for myself, I feel worse towards them than either of you.” After that his Majesty suddenly turned to Pisan affairs, and charged me to advise your Lordships to think of them, and that it would be well anyhow to have some stores and provisions sent into the town, saying that he had letters from there to the effect that they would gladly place themselves in his hands, but that he would not accept the proposition unless it was your Lordships’ wish that he should; and that he said this so that if any difficulty resulted from it that caused you dissatisfaction, he wished to be in a position of having done his duty towards you; and that he would not fail to remember your Lordships’ interests and necessities.

Your Lordships will observe that I have placed all his Majesty’s remarks together, without interrupting them by the replies which I made in the course of this interview, in which I did not fail to remind his Majesty in proper terms of those things that are essential for our republic. I have done this so that your Lordships, having all the remarks of his Majesty together before your eyes, may be the better able to weigh them, and to form such judgment of them as your wisdom may suggest, and then to instruct me how I am to conduct myself in relation to the events that may occur from day to day. I again venture, with all due respect, to call your Lordships’ attention to this Pisan business, and to ask you to instruct me whether I am to cut short their arguments or to continue to listen to them. Your Lordships moreover have heard that the ratification of the truce has really come, but with all my efforts to learn some of the particulars of it I have not succeeded. All I have learned, and that is neither from the king nor from the Cardinal Legate, but from some one who says that he has heard it from both, is that both parties are to have three months’ time within which they are to name their allies and adherents, that the truce is to last three years both on land and on the sea, and that the French and the Spaniards are both free to transport their merchandise from any one place to another. More than this I have not learned, and it is very possible that it contains but few other articles; for in the opinion of many with whom I have conversed, this truce is to serve merely as a suspension of arms; and it is believed that one of the advantages from it will be that the friends of the king in Italy will remain more secure. So far as I can learn, nothing is said of Don Federigo, or of any of  the barons of the kingdom of Naples. There remains still this German matter, which deserves to be watched and carefully considered by every Italian, particularly if the Emperor comes into Italy, as seems to be decided, so soon as the treaty shall have been definitely concluded. And you will observe from the remarks of the king that the Emperor will not be able to attempt this passage by himself, but will have to be aided in it by others. It seems reasonable that the king will endeavor to relieve himself of as much expense as he can, and that he will aid the Emperor to procure for himself subventions of men and money from others. All this your Lordships will take into consideration with your habitual prudence.

In compliance with his Majesty’s suggestion I have called upon the German ambassadors. Certainly the Chancellor must be a man of great ability; he spoke of our republic in the name of his sovereign in the most honorable manner, and has promised also to do, both here and at home, all he can to serve the interests of your Lordships.

The arrival of this ratification from Spain has made these people here very anxious to collect the money which they claim that we have to pay them at the time of the present fair for their pretended protection; and their generals have already spoken three times to-day to Ugolino on the subject. And Monsignore di Ravel has a man here for the express purpose of soliciting for him, and he acts like all men who have but one thing to attend to, so that I have him all day at my ears. This illustrious Signore has written me a letter on the subject, which is herewith enclosed; and I beg your Lordships will be pleased to write me what I am to reply upon both the one and the other of these subjects; for the Cardinal Legate is so dissatisfied and displeased with Giovanpaolo Baglioni, that you cannot speak to him about it.

His Majesty will leave here on Sunday or Monday, unless something special should occur to prevent him; and I shall follow him in two or three days after; and Machiavelli will return by short stages to Italy, if nothing occurs meantime that will require him to make greater speed. I can think of nothing else to write except to recommend myself most humbly to your Lordships, quæ felicissime valeant.

Servitor

Niccolo Valori,
Ambassador.

Lyons,

11 February, 1504

Niccolo Valori

13 February, 1504

Lyons

LETTER X.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

By the enclosed of the 11th instant, your Lordships will have been informed of all that has occurred up to that day. I have since then been with the Legate this morning, who, so soon as he perceived me enter his room, called me to him and said to me that things were going on well, and that he hoped they would be going on still better; and that the Venetian ambassador had been with him, and had made numerous offers on the part of his Signoria, showing how anxious they were to please his Most Christian Majesty. Whereupon the Legate told me that he said to him, that, if the Venetians wished to be friends of the king, they ought to show proper regard for his friends in Italy, and especially mentioned your Lordships to him; for that if you were wronged, it was the same as if his Majesty himself had been injured directly. To which, he said, the ambassador replied, with an oath, that his Signoria had never so much as thought of wronging anybody, and that he might make himself easy on that score, for they had no intention of injuring any one, neither the Florentines nor any other friends of his Majesty.

I thanked his Eminence for what he had done, but showed him that that did not suffice, as it was only a temporary relief; and that it was necessary to think of means of placing the Venetians in such a position that they should not be able at their pleasure to assail any one, so that at no time either the king or his friends should be at their discretion. I think that the Legate told me the above of the Venetians for the purpose of allaying all suspicions which have been manifested here of late; for they have always had two great fears, the one of Gonsalvo, and the other of the Venetians. And as they seem to think that by means of this truce they have secured you against the Spaniards, so they wished to show that you had equally nothing to fear from the Venetians. His Eminence continued his remarks, and urged earnestly that you should look to the matter of Pisa, and that you ought to give it your attention now, whilst there is still time, so as to prevent the occurrence of anything that would be unsatisfactory to the king and your Lordships. And here he added, that his cousin  Monseigneur de Bayeux, who had some influence in Pisa, had initiated certain negotiations, and drawn up certain articles to which the Pisans would consent, and which he would send to me, charging me to forward them to your Lordships, so that you might carefully consider them; and if these articles met your approval, then they would serve to put an end to those evils which for so long a time had kept Tuscany and all Italy feeble. I replied to all this the same as I had done before; namely, that I would communicate it all to your Lordships, and then await your instructions, without which I could not discuss the matter. I shall wait and see what these proposed articles amount to, and so soon as received I will forward them to your Lordships, and you will judge of them with your habitual wisdom. I have no further particulars of the truce to communicate to your Lordships, but am waiting to get a copy of it, which I certainly shall have so soon as it is published and proclaimed, and will then send it at once to your Lordships.

After leaving the Cardinal Legate, and knowing that Monseigneur de Trans had returned here from his embassy to Rome, and was confined at home by a slight indisposition, I went to call upon him, so as to learn something from him about the Pope and the affairs of Italy, as also to show him a courtesy which I did not think ought to be omitted. He seemed delighted at my visit, and talked to me much and for a long time of the affairs of Italy; and his remarks were in my opinion very judicious. He observed that things were at this moment in such condition that every one could revenge himself on the Venetians, and assure himself of them; but if the present opportunity were allowed to pass, and some prince should happen to die, there would be danger of being obliged to submit to their domination. After that he observed how reasonable it was, and how easily it could be done. And first he said, that Spain, having declined to have the king of France as copartner in the possession of the kingdom of Naples, would still less want the Venetians there; and that the Pope would naturally wish to recover his own, and to avenge the Church of the old wrongs done to her, as well as of the recent ones. And in the same way the Emperor ought to desire to put his foot into Italy on their territory, and to recover the possessions which the Venetians had taken from the empire. And that the king of France ought also gladly to concur in all this,  not so much for the sake of restoring to the duchy of Milan what the Venetians had taken possession of, as for the purpose of securing himself against their power and malevolence. And if he were not stirred by these two motives, he ought to be moved by the satisfaction which it would give to his entire realm, and by the desire of every lord and every subject to make war upon the Venetians. But for the accomplishment of all this it was necessary to do everything that possibly could be done to prevent the Venetians from being named in the truce by either of the kings as allies or adherents. And believing it certain that they would not be named under any circumstances by the king of France, all efforts should be made to prevent their being named by the king of Spain; and that for this purpose he saw no surer means than the intervention of the Pope. He told me that he purposed writing very fully on the subject, and that he had held the same language to the Cardinal Legate D’Amboise, who had seemed pleased at it; and that he intended also to speak to the king about it so soon as he should be able to go out. He spoke on this subject with a degree of vivacity and earnestness which I cannot possibly describe to your Lordships. And as the mode of proceeding urged by him seemed to me quite in your interest, I encouraged him with all the arguments of which I was master. He told me furthermore, that he should also write to his Eminence the Cardinal Volterra about it, so that he might remind his Holiness of what ought to be done, and to urge him to do it; and requested me to write also in the same sense to his Eminence. I did not think it amiss to do so, but in my letter I have been careful to speak as it were by the mouth of Monseigneur de Trans.

I write all these particulars to your Lordships so that, should you deem it advisable to urge this matter, you can instruct your ambassador at Rome accordingly, for his Eminence of Volterra can do a great deal towards it; and the consequence will be that either the king of Spain will abstain from naming the Venetians in the truce from fear of offending the Pope, or, if he persists in doing it, the French here will make greater efforts to win his Holiness over to their side, and perhaps, seeing the king of Spain’s disposition in the matter, they may  resort to measures other than the truce. For his Majesty of France has said, with his own mouth, that if the king of Spain were not satisfied with what was reasonable, the Emperor and the Archduke would in less than three months be more hostile to him than he was himself; intimating thereby that to comprise the Venetians within the terms of the truce, or in any way to tie the hands of the Emperor, would be food for fresh quarrels, inasmuch as the Empire could not otherwise be satisfied.

This morning, whilst at church, I was assailed by those generals on account of the money of which your Lordships know; they told me that it must be provided anyhow. Since then the Cardinal Legate has twice sent to me for the same purpose, and was with difficulty put off, although I replied sharply, and alleged all the reasons and justifications that occurred to me at the moment. They say that this does not satisfy them; and that, as they are preparing for the defence of the duchy of Milan, we may rest perfectly secure on all sides; and therefore they press me for the money in such manner that it becomes necessary for me to have instructions as to what I am to do in the matter. I have omitted to tell your Lordships that the Cardinal Legate and Robertet request that the negotiations with Pisa may be kept secret, and the king desires the same of me as regards his frank remarks touching the Venetians.

It is said that at the farthest within a couple of days the other envoy of the Archduke, Monseigneur de Veri by name, will be here; and that on his arrival the treaty between his Majesty the king and the Emperor and the Archduke will be concluded, the conditions having been all agreed upon. This is all I have to communicate, except humbly to recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ felicissime valeant.

Servitor

Niccolo Valori,
Ambassador.

Lyons,

13 February, 1504

Niccolo Valori

17 February, 1504

Lyons

LETTER XI.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

On the 11th and 13th instant I wrote to your Lordships through the agency of Neri Masi, and another letter, also of the 13th, I sent under cover of Tommaso del Bene, by one of the Duke Valentino’s men. In these I wrote particularly, and as nearly as possible in their very words, what the king and D’Amboise had told me, leaving it to your Lordships to form your own judgment therefrom, as regards your own as well as his Majesty’s interests. As Turpin, the treasurer, never fails when he meets me to remind me of the money which he claims to have been assigned to him, and the want of which impedes all other affairs, I did not wish to afford him the opportunity to speak to me on the subject in presence of either the king or the Cardinal Legate, lest I should answer him impatiently; and therefore I have been but rarely to call upon either one or the other. And not having consequently anything to communicate to your Lordships that I had heard directly from them, nor having been charged by them with any special commission, it seems to me not amiss to give you such information as I have been able to gather from persons who have good facilities for knowing all that goes on here. This may appear to your Lordships to differ from what I have written in several of my letters, but experience has shown that matters are often conducted here very differently from what men generally presume, and from what would seem reasonable.

I have been told that the king of Spain will name the Venetians as his friends and confederates. The French are said to be disposed to do the same, without reflecting what a reputation it would give to these Venetians, by letting the world see that each of these kings is anxious to have them with him. I made a friend of your Lordships ask the Cardinal Legate about it, as a matter that was of no less importance to his master than to others, and he replied, “We certainly have no intention of doing so; but as I see that you have been talking with the Spanish ambassadors, I would like to know what their king is going to do.” This reply does not seem to me to differ much from what has been told me by another friend, who is constantly near the king from pure loyalty, and who hears  much, and who, speaking to me on the subject, remarked: “His Majesty of France is tired of war, and evidently anxious for peace; and he would not like to have it appear, in case of new complications, that he would have to avail himself of the reputation and credit of the Venetians, who, more easily than any one else, could molest the duchy of Milan. And a proof that the king is afraid of this is, that, so soon as he found himself obliged to fall back, he wanted to secure himself on that side, and sent an envoy exclusively for that purpose to Venice.” He added: “The possessions which the Venetians have at the foot of the mountains on the side of Germany are a barrier and a palisade that protects Lombardy against the Swiss as well as the Germans, which he would not like to have thrown down; although at present he is on good terms with the Emperor, and although in words that sovereign would be permitted to pass into Italy, yet in fact and reality he would never be allowed to do so.” My friend assured me, at the same time, that it was positively certain that by an arrangement of the king of France the offer would be made to the Emperor to send him the imperial crown on the part of his Holiness by a Legate.

I believe that this may well happen, for my authority is very reliable. It may also be that they may wish to stand upon both feet, and first to try and bring about that which they desire most, which may easily be gathered from many indications and from various conversations, although somewhat general, with the king and the Cardinal Legate; namely, that by means of this agreement made with the Emperor and the Archduke they can in some way make Spain understand that there is mistrust between them, because they will not allow the father to retrieve the affairs of the Empire, nor the son to refuse to keep the agreement which he has made, or to take the kingdom of Naples from them. And on the other hand, if a way be found to make them come to a good understanding, and to have it well confirmed between them, and if his Holiness (who plays the principal part in this game) takes it well to heart, it might easily be that the result would tend to insure the security of Italy and their own for a long time. The Cardinal Legate has recently written to the Pope with his own hand; and I have been told that if they see that he goes resolutely with them, and looks to the security of Italy, they will not  fail to support him. But if otherwise, and they do not find that support in the Emperor and the Archduke which they had wished and hoped for, they will assuredly take the second part. And therefore to support the affair as much as possible at Rome would be to insure success rather more effectually than in any other way. And here we shall not fail to act in such manner as we shall think best calculated to satisfy your Lordships; and if I overstep the bounds of my duty, or write too freely, I beg your Lordships to believe that it arises simply from my devotion and zeal.

In a conversation which Ugolino had with Robertet, the latter told him that it was not necessary at present to think of uniting Italy, and that it was advisable rather not to let the intention become known. Although he went no further, yet I think it may be that they do not wish to give Spain the occasion of having to name the Venetians, etc., and that they want first clearly to know the Pope’s intentions. Certain it is, that if the Cardinal Legate does not take them under his protection, either because he believes that it would be of advantage to France, or for any other reason,they could not be in worse estimation, either with the king or with the general mass of the French. This matter sometimes disturbs the judgment of the Cardinal Legate, for, notwithstanding what he has said as to what the Venetians intend to do, and how he has spoken of them, the words which his Eminence used when he spoke of them the last time to us were not without some symptoms of justification, and were somewhat more friendly than usual. I must also mention to your Lordships, in connection with this subject, that when the king told the ambassador from Ferrara to write to his Duke that a month should not pass before he would have the Polesine restored to him, he charged the ambassador expressly not to have the matter talked about.

I place all these things before your Lordships just as I hear them, so that you may in your wisdom form a proper judgment of them. The treaty negotiations with Germany are being followed up; and although the French say that they are as good as concluded, yet I hear from a very reliable source that there is a great dispute about the investiture, and that the ambassadors of his Imperial Majesty say that they have no instructions upon that point; and I believe that the last messenger, whom they have despatched only a few days since, has been sent for no  other purpose. I understand, and from different quarters, that it is the intention to put a part of these barons from the kingdom of Naples upon the Pope and upon your Lordships; and that they have also made some promises to the Marquis of Mantua in connection with this matter. They may perhaps have done this, because, not wishing to comply with the demands which he had made, they yet wished to show him that they had not lost sight of his case; or perhaps they think of satisfying him at the expense of others. Whatever they may do with regard to the Marquis, their intentions touching these barons are positively fixed; so that if anything is said to me on the subject, I know that I could only say in reply that I would write to your Lordships about it; yet if you would give me some instructions, I might shape my answer so as to meet their views to some little extent. Nothing further occurs to me to write, except to recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ felicissime valeant.

Servitor

Niccolo Valori,
Ambassador.

Lyons,

17 February, 1504

Niccolo Valori

18 February, 1504

Lyons

LETTER XII.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

Not having had an opportunity of sending mine of the 17th sooner, it will be enclosed with this; at the same time I send your Lordships a copy of the articles of the truce, which were published here yesterday. I believe this publication has been hastened by the very great desire which the king has to get away from here; for it is said that he is so disgusted with this place that it will be a long time before he returns to it. On the occasion of this publication it seemed to me proper to call upon the Spanish ambassadors, and I learned from them, what seemed to me to be said for some special purpose, that it had been well considered to have the truce published on a fixed day, and that they had taken so much time for it, in order that during the interval Gonsalvo might make himself master of all that remained of the kingdom of Naples; so that there should not be the smallest place left, nor the least spark that could  rekindle a great conflagration, which would never take place with the consent of their Catholic Majesties, who were both most anxious for peace. And that matters here would not be impeded by them, as they should remain content with Spanish and Sicilian affairs, leaving those of Italy to whom they belonged, namely, Don Federigo. It may be that such is really their intention, but (to continue, with all due respect, my habit of writing to your Lordships without any reserve) I know not whether they may not have spoken to me thus because they knew that certain charges were made against them here; or they may have heard some remarks by the Archduke, and wished to justify themselves in anticipation, and at the same time delay and protract some other business. Although I had resolved on account of those unfortunate men of the Bailli, who are really starving and constantly after me, not to frequent the court, yet on the publication of the truce, and because of certain rumors that had come to my ears respecting Piombino, I was unwilling to miss presenting myself before his Most Christian Majesty; and being promptly admitted, I again expressed my pleasure at this publication of the truce, and asked whether I should have to write to your Lordships anything but good news on the part of his Majesty; after which I endeavored adroitly to learn from him whether he had heard anything of those rumors that were being circulated about Piombino, and about the treaty with the Emperor, always recommending to his Majesty the interests of our republic.

In answer to my first remarks about the truce, the king came back to what he had told me before, — that, were it not for his determination to keep his faith, etc., he did not know how things would go on, and that we should soon see or hear of something, — showing both by his language and gestures that he was not much pleased with the business. If I am not mistaken, they are following the same track that I mentioned to your Lordships in my enclosed despatch. You will be better able to judge than myself whether matters will go on well or otherwise. One thing is very clear, and I have it from very good authority, namely, that the Pope’s support is of great importance to both parties, whether it be to make them observe the truce, or whether it be to make the Spaniards disclose their purpose, and to alienate them from the Venetians. Respecting  Piombino, his Majesty said, “The Genoese ambassador has been to confer with me on the subject, but from my own people I have heard nothing.” And as that ambassador had told him that the people of Piombino had cried, “Marzocco and St. George!” I asked his Majesty whether he would have been pleased if the movement had succeeded; to which he replied, “Yes,” that it would have given him pleasure. Beyond all doubt it is well with these people to be of the country that is spoken of. His Majesty then touched upon Pisan matters, with which I have already wearied your Lordships; and although I tried twice to interrupt him, yet he invariably returned to the same subject, but dealt always in generalities, referring us first to the Cardinal Legate and then to Robertet. There are evidently points in the negotiations that do not suit his Majesty very well, for he said that they were engaged in trying to modify them with Monseigneur de Bayeux, the protector of the Pisans; after which he would give me a copy for your Lordships.

As to the treaty with the Emperor, his Majesty said that the negotiations were not yet concluded, although they had reached a point that left him no doubt but what it would be concluded anyhow; and then he made me such large promises that your Lordships’ interests should be treated exactly as his own, that, if ever faith can be put in the promises of a king,we must believe in these. Upon this subject I have also caused the Chancellor of the Province and Monseigneur Philibert adroitly to be sounded, but found nothing but what was satisfactory. This Chancellor is evidently a man of importance; he speaks of our republic with great affection, and from his familiar conversation, which at times reveals his real thoughts, it appears that his sovereign is resolved anyhow to make this voyage into Italy; and several times has asked some of our Florentines how his master would be received and honored in Florence, adding, that unless such preparations are made as are suitable for such an occasion, (which is very doubtful for the reasons before written you,) it will be another generation before Italy will see an Emperor face to face.

The Archduke has sent M. de Veri here, and, from what I hear, he was not much pleased to find that the ratification had arrived. He is daily with the Imperial ambassadors, and they have long conferences with the people of the government  here, the particulars of which it is difficult to ascertain. They have positively declared that they do not intend to follow the court; but I hear that they have since then changed their minds, and if the king leaves to-morrow, as it is said he will, they will follow him, for it is believed that they have not yet concluded their treaty.

It is necessary that your Lordships should instruct me what to do about this money of Ravel’s and of the Bailli’s men, for the manner in which they go on about us is not very creditable to our republic. The Cardinal Legate has offered to lend me some money wherewith to satisfy them, and this might perhaps be done now more easily than at some other time. I apprehend that I shall have to give something to each man, so as to relieve myself of their importunities; for it is most unpleasant to have to do with such people. Machiavelli will be able to tell you whether I have resisted their claims or not. Nevertheless there are things that are more difficult to carry through than one thinks at first; I therefore beg your Lordships to favorme with a prompt reply. I must not omit to tell your Lordships that I am informed that Monseigneur de Ravenstein has designs of his own in connection with the affairs of Piombino.

Monseigneur d’Aubigny has arrived, and of all who have returned from the kingdom of Naples, none have been received by his Majesty with more pleasure than he. I made it a point to call upon him in your name, and found him most friendlily disposed towards our republic, and thoroughly versed in Italian affairs. But every one holds his judgment in suspense, fearing to run counter to thedesigns of the Cardinal Legate. I also called on Madame de Bourbon, whom the queen had called here at the time of the king’s indisposition; this lady showed herself well disposed to your Lordships, to whom I recommend myself.

Servitor

Niccolo Valori,
Ambassador.

Lyons,

18 February, 1504

Niccolo Valori

19 February, 1504

Lyons

LETTER XIII.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

The want of couriers is the cause of the delay in the arrival of my despatches, and compels me to allow my letters to your Lordships to accumulate here, which would be much more disagreeable to me still, were it not that I see that you are constrained to do the same; for it is only to-day that I have received yours of the 2d, 3d, 5th, 8th, 10th, and 12th instant, with copies of advices from Rome and the Romagna, which are very full and to the point. We called immediately with your letters upon his Majesty, informing him of the conduct of the Venetians, which is so contrary to their pledges; mentioning at the same time all such other matters as seemed to us proper; and we begged his Majesty that, inasmuch as the Secretary has to return to Florence, to be pleased to enable him to carry some good resolution back with him to your Lordships. I also availed myself of the occasion to tell and repeat to his Majesty all those matters with which your Lordships have charged me; which was not a difficult task, as his Majesty allows every one to speak to him at length. It would be well if it were so with the Cardinal Legate, where things are discussed drop by drop, and then decided. His Majesty replied, that, if this treaty with the Emperor should be concluded, it would surround you with a beautiful garland; and that we ought to wait, and we should soon hear of a matter that would please us greatly; and that he intended to send an envoy to Florence and to Rome, through whom your Lordships would be informed of certain orders and measures that were intended to be beneficial to your Lordships and to all Italy, referring us at the same time for particulars to the Cardinal Legate.

In relation to the treaty with the Emperor, his Majesty said that it was near its conclusion; but what gave him particular pleasure was that he had the signature of the Swiss in his hands, by which they bound themselves to furnish him upon his requisition twelve to sixteen thousand men, and that he felt perfectly sure of them. And here he enlarged considerably upon your Lordships’ matters, not omitting the orders given and provisions made for his kingdom and for the duchy of Milan, which are the same that I have communicated  to your Lordships in former despatches. We did not omit to urge him again to take into his pay also some Italian captain, pointing out to him the good effects that would result from it, asking him at the same time, with proper tact, which one he judged to be the best. Upon this point his Majesty replied that he certainly intended to take some one of the Italian captains into his pay, but that it was necessary that the Pope and your Lordships should first make the beginning. And as he said nothing as to any preference, I resumed the subject, saying that your Lordships purposed doing so, for seeing what turn matters were taking you could not remain unarmed; and that it seemed to you of advantage, both for the sake of securing their good will, as well as for the purpose of taking them from others, to try and secure some of the best captains, either of the house of Colonna, or of the Orsini, or even Gianpaolo Baglioni. His Majesty urged us by all means to speak to the Cardinal Legate about it. For the purpose, therefore, of seeing whether I could learn anything special from him, I called upon the Cardinal Legate, and having first informed him of the news I had from your Lordships, and of the recent doings of the Venetians, and of the present state of things in the Romagna, which until now was safe rather by the providence of God, seeing the death of the Signor . . . . . etc., than by the help of man, I told his Eminence that the king had referred us to him. He replied that there were at this moment too many witnesses present to enter upon a discussion of these matters, but that he would at another time give me a long audience, on which occasion he would like to have the Marquis de Final present; and then he called Monseigneur de Trans and the aforesaid Marquis, and in presence of all the government officials who were there, he said: “You see that Imola and Furli are not lost, as Monseigneur de Trans has stated.” And when I repeated to him that, in view of these events, your Lordships felt constrained to arm yourselves; and that there was no more effective way of depriving the enemy of his arms than to try and engage one of the best captains, either of the house of Orsini or Colonna, or Gianpaolo, and that his Majesty the king ought to do the same; his Eminence replied that these men were all impostors, but that if we would be governed by his advice all would go well; and thereupon, seeing the number of persons present, our interview terminated.

Before seeing the Cardinal Legate again it seemed to me advisable to see the Pope’s ambassador; and having called at his house, I informed him of the arrival of Messer Pietro Paolo at Florence, and of your Lordships’ instructions, using such terms as I judged best for facilitating my object, which was to learn from him as far as possible the intentions of the court of Rome, before seeing the Cardinal Legate again. His Lordship made me read a number of letters which he had received from Rome, amongst others one from Capaccio, full of wisdom, and really very much to the point as regards Italian affairs. He suggests to him many things in the name of the Sovereign Pontiff, and advises the ambassador to urge the French to take such measures against the Venetians that the Church may not fall a prey to them, as all that has been done hitherto has been ineffectual; adding that his Majesty’s ambassador at Venice goes so far as to inform the Venetians by simulated letters of all that is to happen, so that, under a dissembled ignorance, they may openly engage in their various enterprises. Thus your Lordships see how these French people act; for although they know that the Venetians have won over their ambassador, as I have before written to your Lordships, yet they do not attempt to remedy it. Afterwards he communicated to me that he hoped to induce his Majesty to write to the Venetian Senate that, if they did not desist from troubling the possessions of the Church, he would have to give them proofs of his displeasure; and that, in consequence of the conduct of the present French ambassador at Venice, another would probably be sent, and who would be furnished with special letters from his Majesty. Two or three persons are spoken of for that post, but I cannot tell your Lordships anything positive about this. The individual likely to be sent to urge the union of all Tuscany will, I think, be Messer Francesco da Narni, with whom, seeing the disposition of the people here, I have done my best to place myself on a friendly footing; but according to what Robertet tells me, it is uncertain whether he will leave here soon; the envoy to Venice, however, will start within a day or two.

I learn that the Spanish ambassadors have told the ambassador of the Pope that if the aforesaid Venetians are named by their most Catholic king, it will be with the condition that they shall give satisfaction to his Holiness the Pope; and in  that case they would also be named by the French. This matter depends now entirely upon the agreement with the Emperor; for if these people here do not arrange this difference after their experience with the Spaniards, it is not likely that they would want also to embroil themselves with the Venetians. When this treaty is concluded, in the way they desire here, I shall certainly hope for some good results from it; and as all this has to be judged of by the actions of the Legate, I have his movements as carefully watched as I can with the means at my disposal. The late news from Furli has disconcerted him very much, and your Lordships may believe me if I tell you that, if the Pope does what he can, there is still some hope that we may get well out of the affair.

I have arranged with the Pope’s ambassador that he shall remain present at my appointed audience with the Cardinal Legate, which I would gladly have deferred longer, for I believe I shall not be able to learn anything more from him, unless it be that he would press me again in relation to his wish that your Lordships should engage some of those Neapolitan barons, in reference to which I would like to have some light and instructions from your Lordships. As already stated in one of my previous letters, Turpin has undertaken to send to your Lordships for the money due to the king. I neither advised him to take this course nor did I dissuade him; as to myself personally they cannot cause me the least annoyance, no matter what sinister measures they may employ; but I would not have them make the slightest demonstration that might be discreditable to our city, which I believe these men of the Bailli’s capable of, for they are desperate and utterly ruined; and it is a bad thing to have to do with men of that sort. One of the first men of the government has complained that theking speaks so freely of the Venetians, which has produced a bad effect, and we come in for a share of the blame. The Venetian ambassador attends to nothing else but trying to justify himself, and to think of means for giving effect to his protestations. I continue under all circumstances to write you freely all I hear, and for which you will make such allowance as your Lordships’ wisdom may suggest.

I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Servitor

Niccolo Valori,
Ambassador.

Lyons,

19 February, 1504

P. S. — Monseigneur de Nemours was also much pleased at the good news of the truce, and begs to remind you of his David, which he is very desirous to have, and wishes it could be sent to Livorno. Your Lordships will I hope deign to instruct me what I am to say to him on the subject.

Niccolo Valori

22 February, 1504

Lyons

LETTER XIV.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I informed your Lordships by my preceding letter, which, for want of a courier, I send at the same time with this one, that I had arranged an audience with the Cardinal Legate; but the affairs of Germany and the departure of his Majesty unavoidably delayed it until yesterday morning. I repeated to his Eminence the advices received from your Lordships, and the measures suggested by you, begging him constantly that in their treaties they might for once recognize such signal fidelity and loyalty as yours. He replied that we should presently have occasion to be better satisfied than we had been for a long time past; and that I should write to your Lordships and to the Gonfaloniere, to be patient and of good cheer, and that you would very soon see that the results would correspond with the promises. And as his Eminence seemed to be in a favorable mood, I added that for once I would like to leave vague generalities, and participate in the good spirits which his countenance indicated. He said to me: “We send Messer Francesco da Narni to Florence and to Rome, and he will carry news that will be most welcome to you, and the union of all Tuscany, which you have desired so much, will be carried into effect. The convention with the Emperor was concluded yesterday, and the German ambassadors carry it with them, to return here with the ratification before Easter, and your interests are as well protected by it as our own.” Wishing to press him still further, especially as to the position in  which Pisa would remain, and whether we ought to do anything in the matter, he replied that he would say no more about it until after the arrival of the ratification, lest it might do harm. His Eminence, nevertheless, let fall the following words, which seemed to me worth noting: “Keep yourselves well prepared and provided, and leave us to think and do the rest.” I did not want to enter upon the subject of the engagement of any Italian captain, for besides the intention which I knew him to have of giving you some of these Neapolitan barons, that cousin of the Bailli’s had told me that he would demand the confirmation of the engagement of fifty lances; and therefore I took my leave of his Eminence, who leaves here this forenoon. Your Lordships will doubtless have concluded an engagement with some one whom you consider suitable; for when the thing is once done, there will be much less difficulty in defending it here. Machiavelli has taken leave of his Eminence, and departs from him in a day or two. Robertet, in company with whom I walked on returning from the Cardinal Legate’s house as far as the church, confirmed the assurances of the Cardinal Legate; so that if this time your Lordships’ interests are not properly cared for, we may forever despair of their promises, seeing the manner in which they have spoken to us as well as to others. Upon asking the aforesaid Robertet as to the position in which the convention left the matter of Pisa, I could get nothing out of him, but he said: “Messer Francesco, as you know, goes to Florence, and by order of the Cardinal Legate I am to prepare special instructions for him; for the person who is here in the interest of Pisa is a man of extravagant views, and Messer Francesco is much better suited to the task.” Although Robertet did not answer my question, yet it seems to me proper to let you know what I did gather from him; for they either want to lull us into security, or they have not conceded Pisa to the Emperor, as some have supposed.

As it seemed to me that the sending of an envoy to Venice, which has been as good as decided upon, was a matter that concerned the Pope’s ambassador more than myself, I resolved to seek an interview with him before Robertet or the Cardinal Legate should see him on the subject. After having communicated to him the substance of the conversations I had had with them, I expressed my surprise that they had not said one word  in relation to that decision; for I really thought it more to the purpose and more important than anything else, that the Venetians should for once understand the king’s intentions with regard to the affairs of his master. He replied: “Everything goes well, and it has been deemed best to defer saying anything because I have letters from the Bishop of Ragusa, to the effect that Messer Pietro Paolo will be in time at the castle of Furli. Rely upon it, your interests are more thought of than you believe. It would not be well further to disclose our purposes with regard to the Venetians, in case the ratification by his Imperial Majesty of the convention concluded by those ambassadors should not arrive; for such premature disclosures would only increase their pretensions. But be of good cheer, for his Holiness has no intention of remaining quiet. This union with and the support of the king will add to our credit and reputation, and will give others something to think about. His Holiness is anyhow resolved to arm, and if he, jointly with your Signoria, could raise one thousand men-at-arms, what with the other allies and the credit of the duchy of Milan, provided she remains as she is, the Venetians will have to think well of what they venture to undertake.” I did not delay in replying, “that we were fed with words, and they with facts.” As he wanted either to close the conversation, or give himself some importance, he said to me: “I have under the secret of a confession, and in articulo conscientiæ, what, if I could reveal it to you, would convince you that I am not speaking at hazard.” It is difficult to draw from the lips of men what they are not willing to tell; and I must leave it to your Lordships to form your own conclusion from such information as I have been able to gather.

Afterwards I called upon the Chancellor of the Province, who leaves to-morrow, well pleased with the attentions shown him, and with the results achieved; they have presented him with money and shown him all honor. I have again expressed to him the good will and devotion of your Lordships to his sovereign, and the hopes which you build upon him in all your necessities, of which he would always have proof whenever occasion should present itself. The Chancellor showed himself much pleased at all this, and assured me that his sovereign would undoubtedly come into Italy; and he promised me to make known to the Emperor these demonstrations of good will  which I had made in your Lordships’ name. And he affirmed this intended voyage of the Emperors so positively, that it will either take place, or he will be completely dishonored; for it is said that he has the entire confidence of his sovereign, and that whatever he decides is invariably done. I am resolved to see him again, for Robertet told Ugolino, within the last few days, that, if their negotiations with Pisa did not succeed, this Chancellor would be apt to have that city restored to your Lordships; for that he was a man who gladly took a part in affairs where he saw a profit. If this seems different from what they told me on other occasions, it is because of their nature and habits always to have more than one plan; thus your Lordships will not blame me, but rather hold me excused for writing all I hear.

I shall see the Grand Chancellor again before his departure, which will not be until next Monday. Since the return of the Legate he has almost invariably intervened in all the negotiations that have been going on; should I not learn anything more from him I will so inform your Lordships. But if matters are treated more openly, as some think will be the case, then it may perhaps be easier to learn something more. Everything, however, has its counterpoise, for if that should be the case, then the Admiral will have to take a more active part in them; and so far as I hear, he has never been well inclined to the interests of Italy. But I will write more fully to your Lordships respecting this movement, if I find that there is any foundation for it. Your Lordships will hold me excused if, as I think, you will receive no letters from me for a month to come; for the king, tired of being confined so long to one place, wishes to stop in every town, and it will be very difficult to follow him there. And when the court is not fixed in any one place, nothing can be done, nor can any information be obtained. Added to this comes another inconvenience: Ugolino is sick, and it is the beginning of a long illness, although there is no danger; but, in truth, his knowledge of the language and the usages of the country make him most useful to me. God willing, I shall follow the court on Monday or Tuesday.

The Cardinal Legate has caused one hundred ducats to be paid to the Bailli’s men, and tells me that he has done it to save me from some insult, for which there would be no remedy because of the agreement which the Bailli holds. The Legate  says that your Lordships may expect to receive this account, and hopes you will pay it, for the men-at-arms insisted on being paid; and truly, if the Legate had not taken this course, I should have had these men around me by dozens wherever I went. Very little is heard of the terms of the treaty that is being negotiated, but it is said that both parties bind each other by many oaths; and that the Emperor concedes the duchy of Milan to the king of France, who is to pay him a sum of money and to furnish him men for the passage into Italy. As to the Signor Lodovico (Il Moro) it is said that the German ambassadors wanted to relieve themselves of that responsibility, but that nevertheless at the meeting of the two sovereigns they will decide about him; and that his Most Christian Majesty has pledged himself to liberate him, and to give him the means of living in France. Of Don Federigo both Spaniards and French speak most honorably; in a former letter I told your Lordships all I had heard on the subject, and of the intentions of the Spaniards, who affirm most positively that their Catholic Majesties intend to restore him to the throne, and to make his son marry the dowager queen of Naples, that is to say, the one who was the wife of King Ferdinand. The secretary of King Federigo tells me that the French wanted to give to the Prince Germaine de Foix, niece of the king and queen of France; and that he has lately pressed both the king and the Cardinal Legate very hard to make the Spaniards declare whether they really mean what they say, or whether, for some selfish purpose, they merely feign this promise to reinstate Don Federigo, etc. But, as he says, they declined to do so, although it would have been much more to their honor than the truce which they have just concluded; and that it must be either that they intend to blind these Catholic kings, or that they fear that, if their plans were to become known to the Archduke, it might lead to results directly contrary to what these French aim at.

Your Lordships will judge of this as well as of the other matters with your habitual wisdom. I recommend myself and beg you will excuse me, for I must follow the court, and so long as it keeps moving I shall not be able to do anything; and so I will say no more at present. Bene valeant DD. VV.

Servitor

Niccolo Valori,
Ambassador.

Lyons,

22 February, 1504

Niccolo Machiavelli

25 February, 1504

Lyons

LETTER XV.

Magnificent Signori: —

Since the arrival of the ratification of the truce by Spain I have been, as it were, constantly with one foot in the stirrup to return to Florence; but his Magnificence the Ambassador thought that I ought not to leave here until after the departure of Messer Francesco da Narni, who has been deputed to Florence for reasons which your Lordships will have learned from the Ambassador. It had been at first determined that I should leave at the same time with Messer Francesco; but upon more careful reflection it was deemed best that I should not accompany him, lest it should detract from the importance of his mission, and make it appear as though it had been solicited by your Lordships. Thus it is that I find myself still here, my only business now being to wait for a companion; but I shall start without fail on Friday next, when the Ambassador will also leave here to follow the king. I recommend myself a thousand times to your Lordships, and refer for all important matters to what your Ambassador writes and has written, for he is most sagacious, zealous, and devoted to his country. Bene valete!

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Lyons,

25 February, 1504

MISSION TO GIANPAOLO BAGLIONI.

INSTRUCTIONS TO NICCOLO MACHIAVELLI. Sent to Perugia, by Resolution of 8th April, 1504.

Niccolo, —

You will proceed with all despatch to find Gianpaolo Baglioni, wherever you may learn that he is. The cause of our sending you to him is the letter which he has written to Messer Vincenzio, which the latter communicated to us yesterday; and as you have already full knowledge of that letter, we deem it unnecessary to say anything to you of its contents. In your address to Baglioni, you will first refer to that letter, and then express to him the astonishment and displeasure which it has caused us in his own interest, which is ours; having always thought that whatever affected the state of Perugia, touched us equally. You will next tell him that our not being able to  avail ourselves of his engagement causes us as much danger and trouble as anything that has occurred for a long time; and that we are no less grieved at his Lordship’s not having made known to us anything of his apprehensions and dangers, for knowing our affection for him personally, and the interest we have in the preservation of his state, it seemed to us most natural that he should have advised us of all this, and that he should have looked upon us as such friends that we would have aided him with our counsels and in every other way.

You will shape your remarks to him in such wise as to make it appear that this is the only object of your mission, and that we do not see in his determination not to fulfil his engagement anything more than what he himself would have us believe. His replies must govern your subsequent proceedings, which you must manage so as to let him feel that we are much dissatisfied with his Lordship, and to stir him up in some way by pointing out to him the blame that will fall upon him in consequence. As to the ingratitude that may be imputed to him for all the benefits he has received in the past, and his want of faith as a soldier, the two essential and fundamental points that men look to, you must endeavor to remove the apprehensions which he pretends to have, and answer him upon every particular, which, with your perfect knowledge of the state of things, it will be easy for you to do. And you must try to bring him to the point of revealing to you the real motive for his determination; which seems to us to have no other foundation than that he has either very sorrowful support, or that he seeks thereby to obtain better terms for his engagement. It is upon this latter point that you must lay most stress, so as to draw from him all you possibly can, which is the main object of your mission. During your stay near Gianpaolo you will diligently endeavor to find out the number of men he has, and their whereabouts.

In passing through Cortona, which it seems to us desirable you should do, you must find out from the commandant of the place whether he has any information in relation to these matters; and so soon as you have had an interview with the aforesaid Gianpaolo, you will inform us of all you have learned from him.

Ego Marcellus Virgilius,
Decemv. Lib. et Bal. Reip. Flor.

Ex Palatio Florentiæ,

8 April, 1505

Niccolo Machiavelli

11 April, 1505

Gianpaolo Baglioni

LETTER.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I arrived yesterday evening at the fort of Cortona and learned that Pietro Bartelino had returned from Gianpaolo and was above. It being too late to reach Castiglione by daylight, and having, moreover, instructions from your Lordships to confer with Antonio, I went up to pass the night with him. I had a full conversation with him, and learned from Pietro how his business had turned out, respecting which he told me that he had just written to your Lordships. Early this morning, in good time, I was with Gianpaolo, and both before and after dinner I talked with him for over three hours, during which time I had ample opportunity to execute your Lordships’ commission, the three main points of which were, first, whether he would serve or not; second, in case of his refusal to serve, then to ascertain what his real motives are, — whether he merely wants to obtain better terms, or whether he has more important reasons; and finally, not to break with him, lest it should give him occasion, etc., etc.

For the purpose of treating all three of these points, I opened the conversation in accordance with your Lordships’ instructions, telling Baglioni that your Lordships complained of the obstacles which he alleged, and wondered that you had not heard of them before; offering him at the same time every assistance for the security of his state, for which offers he thanked your Lordships most kindly. He said that the reason of his not having informed you sooner was that he himself had not been aware of his situation before; but that he knew now the impending dangers and the machinations of the Colonnas and of his other enemies, and the intrigues which they had been carrying on, even within Perugia itself; and that so soon as he discovered these, he saw that it would be impossible for him to accept any obligations to others without manifest danger of losing his own state, and that it was much better for him now to have taken care of his own interests than to have accepted your money, and then have been obliged to leave perhaps in the midst of his duty. From this argument he passed abruptly to the manner in which you had acted towards him last year, and how, whilst he remained in camp, although written to daily by his people to  come home, you had refused to give him leave; and that, so as not to break with you, he had engaged the Signor Bartolommeo to come to Perugia, which had excited such suspicion in your minds that he had to send him away again; that he did not intend to expose himself to the same thing this year, but believed that he would be able to settle his affairs and secure himself in such manner this year as to be able to serve your Lordships next year, adding that he was sure of being then your servant more than ever. And when I met these doubts of his with such arguments as I could offer, justifying your Lordships’ conduct of last year, he replied that he could not be satisfied, nor could he rely upon you, inasmuch as you had always, and even within the past few days, carried on negotiations with Fabrizio Colonna to engage him in your service; and that, although nothing definite had been done, yet you could hammer at this matter so long that it would be concluded, so that when it was done he would find himself in the midst of his enemies. And then he went on enlarging upon this matter, expressing his detestation of your engagement of the Savelli and the Colonnas, and blaming you for neglecting the Guelfs; adding that, if you had leaned upon them, and formed him and Bartolommeo d’Alviano and Vitelli into one body, things would have been better for them and for you; for then the Colonnas, who are their enemies, would have been kept down, and Pandolfo and the Lucchese, who are also your enemies, would have remained quiet, and Pisa would have fallen of itself. I replied to all this as well as I could, but he remained firm in maintaining that it would have been best for Florence to have formed all the above Orsini into one body; and then it escaped his lips that it was now too late for you to do this. He complained of the Perugian rebels who reside in Cortona, adding that, if he were accused of having broken his faith, and that it became necessary for him to justify himself, he was ready to do so; that he had submitted his argument to a number of learned Perugians who all decided that he was not bound by it. Respecting the Perugian rebels who are at Cortona, I told him that, knowing the character of those who had occasionally resided there, his Lordship ought not as much as mention the matter, and that I should be ashamed to reply to him upon that point. But as to his being able to justify his treating his engagement as not binding, I observed that, inasmuch as he had afforded me ample scope to  discuss the value and importance of good faith, I was not conscious of having omitted anything that could be said under the circumstances. And then I gave my remarks such a turn as to show him that your Lordships’ displeasure at his resolution was more on his than on your own account. For even if you were at this moment unexpectedly deprived of one hundred and thirty men-at-arms, there were so many unemployed horses in Italy just now that there was no danger of your being obliged to remain on foot, or to be compelled to abandon any of your plans, and that thus your difficulties would be easily remedied; but that such was not the case with his. For even if you had never to complain of his want of good faith, assuming that his apprehensions were well founded and really obliged him to remain at home, yet every one knew the obligation under which he was to your Lordships, and was cognizant of his engagement as it stands, of the payments that had been regularly made, of the conveniences afforded him, of the engagement that had been made by him, and at his special request, for his son, and that his entire pay had been brought to him at his own house, and would therefore never excuse him, but would charge him with ingratitude and bad faith, and would regard him as a stumbling horse which nobody would ride for fear of getting his neck broken; that matters of this kind were not to be judged by learned doctors, but by gentlemen; and that whoever attached any value to wearing armor, and desired to win honor by his arms, could lose nothing that was prized so much as the reputation for good faith, and that it seemed to me that in this case he staked his very lightly. And as he persisted in saying that he could justify his conduct, I answered that men ought to do everything in their power never to be obliged to justify themselves, for justification presupposes error or the suspicion of error; that last year he had to justify himself with regard to the French, and in fact he had to justify himself too often. And thus I pricked him right and left, speaking to him as a friend, and as though merely coming from me; and although I noticed several times that he changed countenance, yet he gave no indication that could make me hope he would change his determination.

This is all I can report to your Lordships of our long conversation. Our subsequent rather confused and desultory discussion tended all to the same effect, for he firmly held to his  resolve to remain at home this year and not to serve any one; telling me also that within a few days he would cause four persons to be executed in Perugia who were his enemies; and that we must not take umbrage at him if he should collect troops, which he should do only to enable him to resist his enemies, and to dislodge some of them from certain castles which they occupied. He said that you could do this year without taking any men-at-arms into your pay, for he did not see that you were in condition to attack Pisa; but if nevertheless you did make an engagement with any one, you ought to avoid the Colonnas, and take either the Marquis of Mantua or some others who were not of the Colonna faction. In the course of his argumentation he let the remark escape him that he could tide over this year with such resources as he could procure from elsewhere. I did not fail to reply to these arguments in such manner as seemed to me suitable and to the point. But to justify himself to your Lordships and relieve them of all doubt as to his good faith he offered, in case you should decide upon a movement against Pisa, to come in person with some forty or fifty of his men; but that he should come merely as a friend, voluntarily, and not as being under any obligation to do so; and that he would be satisfied even if your Lordships employed him only as a pioneer.

Your Lordships will see from what I have written thus far that Gianpaolo is positively determined not to serve you; as also the reasons which he assigns for it, and which, he avers, have reference purely to his own interests. But here is what I learn from others, and I have it from two Florentines who are in his pay, one of whom is more skilful in intrigue than in action. Both tell me that this is all a concerted affair between Gianpaolo and Pandolfo, the Lucchese, and the Orsini faction. They do not know whether any others are implicated, but they do know there is a good deal going on; for Gianpaolo receives nightly some individual who is a courier, or seems like one. Messer Goro da Pistoja, they tell me, is very busy moving to and fro; at this moment he is absent, but they know not where. On Sunday Gianpaolo had a meeting with Pandolfo in the direction of Chiusi, under pretence of hunting. Their designs unquestionably are to take Pisa from you, and to do even worse if they can; their final object being to reduce you to the same condition as themselves, so that those who are well armed  may fare well, whilst the others may look to their security as well as they can. They have made Gianpaolo trifle with you, so that you might have less time for making your preparations; nor would he as yet have made known his intentions if you had not sent him his pay; but upon learning that it was on the way, he wished to anticipate you, and so wrote that letter to Messer Vincenzio. I learn furthermore from these men, that in place of that letter Gianpaolo wished to have sent Ser Valerio to you, but that he did not want to come, saying that you would hang him for bringing such news to you. Those who influence Gianpaolo in all this have made him take this means of saying that he would not serve you, and that he wanted to remain at home, because they and he knew that you would be vexed by this wrong and would be apt to do something adverse to him, either by taking the Colonnas into your pay, or by some other means to guard yourselves against him, and thereby afford him the occasion for saying that he was justified in declaring openly against Florence; and therefore he advises you in the most friendly manner to remain without men-at-arms rather than engage the Colonnas. Those who have given me these particulars tell me that, unless you give Gianpaolo occasion, he will not declare against you, but will arrange to place all his troops under Bartolommeo d’ Alviano, or any one else, as may seem best to him. They also tell me that he has advised his soldiers to remain quiet and of good cheer, for that if he receives no money from the Florentines, he will have it from some one else; and he intimated as much to me himself in the conversation I had with him, which I reported above. They say furthermore, that he thinks you will not be able to raise troops, and that, if nevertheless you engage the Colonnas, he will cut off their roads for coming into Tuscany, and will not permit them to pass in any way. They also report that for the past two months Gianpaolo has been completely absorbed in his thoughts, as it were, and has never laughed with right good will. This I have noticed myself, for when I told him at our interview to reflect well upon the course he was going to take, which was of more importance for him than for Perugia, he replied, “Believe me, I have thought of it well, and have crossed myself more than half a dozen times, and have prayed God to direct me wisely.”

I leave your Lordships now to form your own judgment upon all this. You advised me verbally to be careful not to break  with Gianpaolo; and therefore, when he argued with me, and endeavored to show by the most earnest protestations how entirely devoted he was to our republic, as you would find out more and more every day, and that if you took umbrage at his present decision, he would send his son Malatesta Baglioni to you as a hostage, I asked him why he had not ratified his engagement. He replied at once, and without reflecting, that he would do so most cheerfully whenever your Lordships wished it. I answered him, that I had no instructions upon that point, and that your Lordships had not said anything to me about it; but that he could let your Lordships know, so as to ascertain your wishes in the matter. Whereupon he promptly sent a messenger to Perugia to ask Ser Valerio to come to him, saying that he would immediately despatch him to your Lordships with that commission, and I saw nothing improper in my approving of this. In conclusion, when I took my leave of him, he said to me, “that this year he would not serve your Lordships on any account nor at any price; but that, if you decided upon renewing the siege of Pisa, he would come as a friend with forty or fifty men; and that I should assure your Lordships that he had no intention of wronging you, nor of allying himself with any one who intended to injure you, and that it was only the necessity of being obliged to remain at home, and nothing else, that had caused him to decide as he had done; but that, if you wished, he would willingly give you his son.”

I have entered fully upon all the above details, so that your Lordships may judge of them with your habitual prudence; nor have I hesitated in writing so much at length, contrary to my disposition, but the subject seemed to me of such importance that I thought I could not err in communicating to you all I had heard and seen here. As to the number of men-at-arms which Gianpaolo Baglioni has, and their whereabouts, I have learned that about twenty of the old are wanting, but that within the past few days he has taken twenty-eight men-at-arms  into his pay from the Prefect and the Duke of Urbino. These are quartered throughout his entire state, and here in Cortona he has but three men-at-arms. According to public report he will have altogether within a month one hundred men-at-arms and one hundred light-horse.

I did not stop longer at Castiglione, as it seemed to me that I had obtained all the information I was instructed to gather in relation to these matters, and moreover I could not have written you from that place the half of what I have written. And had I remained there one day longer, I should have been taken for a spy and should have been detained there with little satisfaction or credit to your Lordships; and therefore I concluded to come away, thinking that it would be a greater error to remain than to be obliged to return there. This evening I shall stop at Cortona, and to-morrow I shall speak to the commandant of Arezzo, and the following day, God willing, I hope to be back in Florence. I recommend myself to your Lordships.

11 April, 1505

I have given two ducats to the courier Carlo who leaves to-dayat the twenty-third hour; he has promised to reach Florence before your Lordships go home, and if he fails in this he is to return the two ducats.

Servitor,

Niccolo Machiavelli.

MISSION TO THE MARQUIS OF MANTUA, JOHN FRANCIS II. OF GONZAGA.

INSTRUCTIONS GIVEN TO NICCOLO MACHIAVELLI, SENT TO MANTUA BY THE MAGISTRACY OF THE TEN.

Resolved on, the 4th of May, 1505.

Niccolo, —

You will proceed by post, and with all possible speed, to find the Marquis of Mantua, and definitely conclude his engagement, in relation to which we have this morning received an envoy from him. And by way of instructing you as to what you will have to do, we will tell you briefly that the articles which his Lordship will have to ratify are the same that have lately been decided upon in the Council of the Eighty, a copy of which you have herewith, and which are not to be modified or changed in any particular. The conclusion of this agreement will have to be effected anew by you for our account of the one part, and by his Lordship of the other part. And in case it should be necessary, you will use the powers we have given you for that purpose; or indeed his Lordship may ratify and accept it in the manner and form above indicated. The difficulties which he started were, as you know, that he wanted five hundred foot-soldiers, which demand has been altogether rejected, and you will reject it in the same way. His letter was to the effect that he wanted to give us only one hundred and fifty men-at-arms, and the remainder in light horse, which has also been refused, and you will do so still more emphatically. And the third involved an entire change in the eighth article, which defines the manner in which he is to serve us; but as this alteration seemed to us to annual the entire agreement, we have most energetically rejected it in toto, and wish you to do the same; for we do not want to be obliged to place  ourselves in opposition either to the Most Christian King or to his Imperial Majesty. Nor do we want to contract an engagement at such great cost without being assured that the service is to be performed. All these demands having been excluded by us, he now comes back asking restitution of all the places which he or his people had seized, and which for a time had been held by him or his ancestors. And moreover he wanted us to give him leave to return, in his own person only, to his country, whenever there seemed to him necessity or urgent cause for it. Not wishing on our part to raise any more difficulties than what this negotiation naturally involves, and on the other hand being unwilling to change the whole character of the engagement, we have resolved upon a third course, and have promised the Marquis in a special letter what you will see in a copy of the same. Besides this, our illustrious Gonfaloniere has written him a letter, of which you will be the bearer, and of which you will make use in case of necessity, not otherwise. You must know furthermore that, in the article in which he speaks of the consent and good graces of the king in connection with this engagement, he had added certain words of the utmost import, to the effect that every question should at all times be subject to the will and pleasure of the king; such were the very words. But as this did not seem to us well, we object altogether to any such conditions, holding to the engagement already concluded, and to the clauses which it contains upon that point. Under any circumstances, to avoid all delay in this negotiation, should his Lordship desire some respectful reference to his Majesty the king in this agreement, we will cheerfully admit it, provided it signifies nothing more than what was in the beginning the mutual intention of both parties, namely, that this engagement was made with the consent and good pleasure of his Majesty. As the prompt settlement of this matter is of much importance to us, you will see that it is brought to an immediate conclusion; but should there be any difficulty that will prevent this, you will return here without delay. If, on the other hand, you conclude the affair without any difficulties, then you will urge his Lordship to start at once with the whole of his troops, or at least with a part of them, for you know how important time is for us.

SECOND MISSION TO SIENNA.

INSTRUCTIONS GIVEN TO NICCOLO MACHIAVELLI, SENT TO PANDOLFO PETRUCCI AT SIENNA.

Resolved, 16 July, 1505.

Niccolo, —

You will proceed on horseback to Sienna, so as to arrive there to-morrow morning at business hours, and you will immediately call upon the Magnificent Pandolfo, for whom you have our letters of credence. You will express to him the pleasure we have derived from his having sent a confidential agent to communicate to us the information he had received of Bartolommeo d’ Alviano’s intention to proceed immediately to Piombino. You will thank Pandolfo for the offers he has made to us, and add at once that we have sent you to him for the purpose of learning from his Lordship what he thinks ought to be done so as to prevent any further disorders; enlarging upon the subject as you may judge necessary for the purpose of more effectually finding out the truth. You will treat the subject in all its bearings, for which purpose you will have to take counsel of yourself, and govern your conduct with your habitual prudence.

Niccolo Machiavelli

17 July, 1505

Sienna

LETTER I.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I had an interview this morning with Pandolfo, so soon as he had risen, for I arrived here before even the city gates were opened. When I communicated to him the instructions which I had from your Lordships, he did not allow me to enter into any explanations, but said: “I will tell you how this matter stands. The Signor Renzo da Ceri had seized on my territory some five hundred head of cattle, whereupon I sent Cornelio Galanti to Bartolommeo d’ Alviano to complain of this robbery, with orders, if he did not obtain satisfactory redress, to proceed to Rome, there to lodge a complaint with his Holiness the Pope. Cornelio went, and I believe some arrangement is likely to be effected between Renzo and the owners of the cattle. Cornelio wrote me furthermore, that Bartolommeo had given him to understand that he could no longer supply provisions for his soldiers, and had decided at any rate to break up on the following Thursday, which happens to be this very morning, and to move to Campiglia, there to take up his quarters, and then to act as fortune might dictate. I was surprised and displeased at this, and at once sent a mounted messenger to inform your Gonfaloniere of this, writing at the same time again to Cornelio to see the Signor Bartolommeo again, and to advise him, on my part, to desist altogether from such an enterprise, which, without adequate support, was downright madness, and that I could see no chance of his having any reliable support. And to tell him furthermore, that in our territory he could have only what he could steal, and nothing more; adding, that he would certainly have a reply to that letter to-day, and therefore it would be well for me to await its arrival before writing to your Lordships; and that for the moment he could tell me nothing but what he had already written to you, namely, that he was ready to do all that he and his city were able to do, and that he would send for me so soon as the answer came.” And therefore, as I was to see him again, I did not care to enter into any further particulars with him at that moment. After dinner, at about the seventeenth hour, Pandolfo sent for me, and according to what I had heard he  had invited some five or six of the chief citizens to dinner, during which he had some little conversation with them about my mission, and these were still with him when I arrived at his house. Having seated myself amongst them, Pandolfo told me that he had received an answer from Cornelio, who informed him that he had tried by a long argument, on behalf of Pandolfo, to dissuade D’ Alviano from advancing towards Sienna, but that it had produced no effect, and that D’ Alviano was to break up that very morning and move his camp to the mill of Vetrella, and that the next day he was to proceed to San Giovanni di Selva, between Montefiascone and Viterbo, where he was to receive some money; but that he did not know how much nor from whom; and that D’ Alviano said that he had large resources of money, infantry, and artillery, but left us to guess from whom. It was clear, however, that it must be Gonsalvo who supplied him with infantry from Piombino, as well as with artillery which he has there, and also that it might easily be that such of the Spanish infantry as were at Gaeta, and which it was said were to embark for Sicily, would go back to Piombino to join D’ Alviano.

This information seemed to make it clear to Pandolfo that he would have to mount, and for this purpose he has already taken such measures as are within his means. He has written to Cornelio not to return, but to follow D’ Alviano’s army, and to advise him of its movements from point to point. He has also written to Gianpaolo Baglioni promptly to mount, and move with all his men across the Chiane into the Maremma; and he advises you to send all your forces to Campiglia in the Maremma. Pandolfo added, that although himself and all these citizens were disposed to do all they could to prevent this movement of D’Alviano’s, yet they did not know how they could, nor how their own security would be thereby insured, as it would expose them to drawing a war upon themselves, not having yet concluded any definite engagement with you. And therefore it seemed to him that an agreement should first be concluded with you, and that, if his views had not heretofore been fully understood, he thought the state of Sienna would be satisfied to agree upon the following basis, viz. — First, prolong the truce of ‘98 as it stands for another five years; and should it contain any article not suited to the present state of things, or likely to give rise to disputes, it might be struck out;  and to add merely that the Siennese shall be obliged during the entire term of five years to keep fifty men-at-arms at the service of the Florentine republic. That although at first one hundred had been spoken of, yet he had thought that it would matter little to you if the number were reduced to only fifty; for inasmuch as they would have to remain always armed, even at home, it would involve them in an expense that would become insupportable; and that their giving you fifty men-at-arms for your service was intended more as an evidence of their friendship than for anything else. Second, in the event of Pisa being recovered by your Lordships within the five years, then Montepulciano is to remain free to the Siennese; but the Pisan territory as well as the fifty men-at-arms to be subject to your will and pleasure. If, however, Pisa is not recovered within the five years, then they do not give up their claims to Montepulciano, which in that case remain the same as before the conclusion of the agreement, which however is to hold good anyhow until it is formally abrogated.

I replied to all this, that I had no instructions to discuss this subject, but could write to Florence about it; still, if I were to express my opinion, it was that I did not see how such an agreement would relieve his apprehensions; and that there was always much time lost in such negotiations, whilst Bartolommeo was already in the saddle. To which Pandolfo observed that there were but two articles to be agreed upon, which could be done within four days, and that no time need be lost on that account; but that you could push your men on to Campiglia, whilst he would send his into the Maremma; and that other expedients might also be tried, which would be the most effective way perhaps of putting down D’ Alviano, namely, to take the Vitelli away from him, who had sixty men-at-arms. And here he swore that he would be hanged if D’ Alviano moved forward, if deprived of the Vitelli; and that other Condottieri besides the Vitelli might also be detached from him. And if all this should involve your Lordships in some expense, it would nevertheless be money well laid out, as it would be the means of securing you against D’ Alviano, not only for the present, but for all time; for he was a man to be feared by all who had possessions, whilst he had none, and was always armed. And being, moreover, of a ferocious and reckless disposition, and Italy being full of thieves, accustomed to live upon what they  could take from others, these all flocked to him to share in his plunder.

I did not fail to say in reply to Pandolfo, that inasmuch as he knew D’ Alviano best, so it behooved him more than any one else to oppose his schemes, and that he ought not to wait for others to do everything; and that he ought promptly to apply those measures which he constantly urged upon others to take. I also reminded him that we lacked neither troops nor favors, which were always at the service of others when they were ready to accept and employ them for the common advantage; but if not, and if Tuscany had to undergo fresh troubles, we knew well that these very troubles would cause some to succumb, whilst others escaped; but that it was the most feeble who would succumb. Here he resumed his remarks, and attempted by a long argument to justify the past, and concluded by asking me to write to your Lordships, and saying that it would be agreeable to him to have me remain until your answer came as to what you had resolved to do, and so that he might inform me verbally of the progress of D’ Alviano. But he requested me to ask your Lordships not to mention his name in case you should publish your intentions; and he complained that his name had been mentioned by the individual whom he had sent to you with the information that had caused your Lordships to send me here.

I must not omit mentioning to your Lordships that Pandolfo told me that, by way of anticipating, he had already ordered letters to be written to the Vitelli to endeavor to detach them from D’ Alviano. He said also that he believed that he would be able to keep the said Signor Bartolommeo in suspense for six or eight days on pretence of intending to send him money; but that he would not do so unless he had first come to an agreement with your Lordships. And he added, that, if the two states came to terms, they would not lack means for restraining D’ Alviano, and that you ought to remember that he had held him in check in 1489, when he was in the service of the Venetians.

I have thus far written only what I have from Pandolfo’s own lips. I might have written you the various replies I made to his remarks, but omit them, so as not to weary your Lordships. Nor can I form an opinion whether he is to be believed or not, for I have seen nothing here that would enable me to form a  better judgment upon this point than what your Lordships can do yourselves. I will only tell you that you have nothing to expect from here, for Pandolfo has no fear of D’Alviano for the moment; and if what he says be the truth, it is not present fear that will make him act, but that of the future.

I have had a call from a Siennese who professes to be very friendly to our republic, and he told me that you must not rely upon anything that Pandolfo promises or says; and that he knows for certain that the Venetians are spending money here, and are mixed up in this complication; that a few days since Guido Orlandi returned from Venice, where he went some weeks ago with Messer Petruccio, who has remained there; that this Guido was brought here in a cart, having injured one of his legs on the road, whilst carrying despatches; and so soon as he arrived here, Pandolfo visited him, and then immediately despatched Cornelio Galanti to D’Alviano to urge him to move forward, and to inform him that he had already sent some persons to the Siennese frontier to receive his men, and provide quarters for them; that Pandolfo’s design is to destroy our present Gonfaloniere, who seems indisposed to enter into close relations with him, whilst the others would readily come to terms with him, each having an interest in doing so. This Siennese thinks that there are great intrigues going on here, and promises to inform me of many other things whilst I am here. This man has quite good manners and seems very intelligent, but shows himself so violent against him who governs here that it destroys my faith in him. Nevertheless I write you what he has told me, and shall continue to do so if he tells me anything more; and your Lordships will make such use of the information as will prevent all harm.

The present courier leaves at the twenty-second hour. Your Lordships will please have the expense reimbursed to Francesco di Luzio. Valete!

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Sienna,

17 July, 1505

Niccolo Machiavelli

18 July

Sienna

LETTER II.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I wrote to your Lordships at length yesterday and sent it by an express who should have arrived at the second hour of the night. I look for a reply at latest by to-morrow, so as to permit my return. This morning at the Duomo I was addressed by one Ser Paolo di Pietri di Paolo, who lived at Florence while banished from here. He began by telling me of his deep obligation to our city for having served him more than once as a refuge and shield in his adversity, and for the great kindness and benevolence shown him by our citizens. Amongst many other matters he mentioned Messer Francesco Gualterotti; at first he said that he did not wish to speak of public affairs, as he could not open his heart to me as he should desire, but he offered me his services for any personal or private matter. Nevertheless I led him on indirectly, so that after a good deal of talk we came to discuss the events of the day; and he assured me that D’ Alviano had actually started for Campiglia, and that Gonsalvo was to aid him with infantry, and perhaps even with the troops that were now at Piombino; and that the Venetians were to supply him with money, and that Sienna would permit him to force a passage through her territory, without, however, furnishing him troops, or giving him any other open support. But when I asked what D’ Alviano wanted to do at Campiglia, this Ser Paolo said: “Take that place, give the Pisans more room, and then act according to his success; but that he ought to remember that on a former occasion he came to the very gates, and that perhaps he might try the same thing now, and leave Campiglia aside.” And then he added, that he wondered much that our city had not been willing to make sure of him who governed here, by coming to some arrangement with him respecting Montepulciano, as had been several times proposed; and that it seemed to him that by such an arrangement you would be “selling the sun in July” to the Siennese; for that when once masters of Pisa, not only Pandolfo, but Montepulciano, Sienna, and all the rest of Tuscany, would be at your discretion. I remarked to him  that the fault was theirs if no agreement had been concluded, for Florence had ever been disposed to do all that was reasonable; but that now it seemed to me that matters had come to that point that it was useless to talk of any agreement since Pandolfo had combined with Bartolommeo and his adherents. Whereupon he answered quickly, that I ought not to say so, for in his judgment the present moment was most favorable for you to effect an arrangement; but that no time was to be lost, as the negotiations between Pandolfo and the others amounted only to conferences and words, and that it would not cause Pandolfo much pain to deceive the Venetians, although they had already spent a good deal of money; and then he intimated to me that this money was paid through his hands. And in the same way, he said, Pandolfo would not mind deceiving Gonsalvo, for that both the Venetians and Gonsalvo were governed in this matter by the advice of Pandolfo, who had gained such influence with both that they believed and confided entirely in his intelligence. And that he believed that Pandolfo would gladly make an arrangement with you so as not to lose altogether the advantages of these movements, and fearing lest the whole responsibility should fall upon him as on a former occasion, and that thus an arrangement with you would be the safest thing for him.

To all this I replied that it was difficult on the one hand to believe that all these movements were of so much importance, and on the other, that Pandolfo could stop them at his pleasure; and therefore I imagined that Pandolfo would either not come to any agreement, or that, if he did, all these preparations had no other object than to alarm, but not injure us. That we were in condition not to fear even the most vigorous attacks, and much less any feeble ones; and then I told him the state of our forces and that of our allies. He answered, that the more secure you were, the better pleased was he; that he did not know whether this contemplated movement was great or little, but this much he knew, that whether great or little it depended altogether upon Pandolfo, whose brains had originated it all. And here he enlarged upon Pandolfo’s ability, referring again to the great credit which he had acquired everywhere, and that he had his foot, so to say, in a thousand stirrups, but so that he could withdraw it from them at his pleasure. And here he left me, having concluded by  saying that an arrangement with Pandolfo seemed to him of the greatest advantage for us.

As I wrote yesterday to your Lordships the substance of the conversation I had with that other friend, so I have deemed it proper to give you a full account of this one also. Both showed themselves in the beginning of their conversation dissatisfied with Pandolfo, but, as you will have observed, their conclusion was very different. I did not mention the name of the one yesterday, so as not to compromise him; but I gave you the name of the first one, for it seemed to me that his communications were less likely to expose him to danger, and so that your Lordships, knowing who it was, might be able to judge better what confidence to put in his statements. I have nothing else to write unless it be that I have omitted to inform your Lordships, in my letter of yesterday, that when Pandolfo told me, in my last conversation with him, that he would do all in his power to oppose D’Alviano, I replied that I believed it, having seen that he had sent to Florence to enlist infantry; in answer to which he said that the men enlisted at Florence were not for that purpose, but that one of his lately created captains of police had engaged thirty men, which statement I have since found to be true.

Since writing yesterday Pandolfo has sent to inform me that one Bastiano of Cortona, for a long while his barber, having gone to Cortona a few days since to assist at the marriage of his sister, has been detained by the commandant on suspicion of his being engaged in some conspiracy against the state. Pandolfo thinks that the truth must have been found out by this time, and desires that you would make him a present of this man, and release him. He requests me to ask this of your Lordships in his name, which I do herewith, and recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secretary.

Sienna,

18 July, at the 15th hour

Niccolo Machiavelli

19 July, 1505

Sienna

LETTER III.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

The enclosed I wrote to your Lordships yesterday, so that you might make such use of the information contained therein as may be of advantage; I shall continue in the same way to write what I see and hear. This morning came your Lordships’ letter in answer to mine; I went immediately to Pandolfo, and communicated to him your Lordships’ reply. Respecting the proposed truce or league he said, that difficult things should be left alone, and that very often the wisdom of men did not suffice to oppose the will of Heaven, which chooses to conceal its designs as it has done hitherto. As to the Vitelli and the other Condottieri, he says that that was an idea and plan of his own, as he thought that there would be no more effectual way to repress the audacity of D’ Alviano; but he could not say on what terms and conditions they could be engaged, unless he should hear from them, as he had written them for the purpose with the view of sounding them; and that he should have a reply from them to-day, which he would immediately communicate to me; and that he believed he would be able to get them, unless they had formed some fresh engagement with D’ Alviano, of which he said he knew nothing. As to the others, he had not approached them, fearing lest Bartolommeo should find it out; for he was very reluctant to offend him, unless he had first closed an arrangement with you, as he did not want to make an enemy for himself without at the same time gaining a friend. And having opened himself freely and told you his mind frankly respecting the truce, and being willing to agree to everything that was reasonable, it ought to be an easy matter to come to an agreement, if you really wished it; but if you did not wish it, then indeed everything became difficult. And if the question was now as to fifty men, it arose from the fact that Montepulciano was not conceded to them entirely free, as was the case when they consented to one hundred men-at-arms. And here he enlarged much upon this point, showing that we must look to such an agreement as the true means for securing the tranquillity of Tuscany; but if your Lordships would frankly declare that under no circumstances would you make such a treaty, and  that you regarded it for the common good not to light a new conflagration, he would be much better satisfied than to keep matters in uncertain suspense as at present. And as in all my replies to his arguments I insisted mainly upon the shortness of the time, as in fact I had done from the beginning, and as your Lordships advise in your letter, he answered that to conclude such an agreement would require only hours, and not days; and that possibly Bartolommeo might remain some days in the place where he now is, as he had written to Gianpaolo to the effect that he wished to confer with him at Graffignano, and that the latter must now be on his way there; that perchance the money with which Bartolommeo intended to pay his men at Selva might not have arrived; and therefore, he said, that to avoid having him unexpectedly upon his back he had sent the Podestas into their several Podesterias on the confines of the Maremma, to have the harvest brought into the towns and places, and to make provision of flour; but that he believed he would most likely have to wait awhile, and that thus there would be abundance of time. He added, that he did not know what Bartolommeo could want from Gianpaolo.

Not wishing to weary your Lordships, I do not repeat the answers I made to Pandolfo’s arguments, but shall only report his conclusions, which are as follows. By making an arrangement with him you secure yourselves by such expedients as you together may employ, one of which is to dismember the forces of Bartolommeo. But if no agreement is concluded then, he says, he will not be able to exert himself in a manner that would be manifestly hostile to Bartolommeo. But nevertheless he would oppose him, and do all in his power to that effect.

Your Lordships must judge now from all I have written what Pandolfo’s object really is, for there is little or nothing to be gained from being face to face with him. He professes not to know what this enterprise of Bartolommeo’s is founded upon, but that it may nevertheless have very solid foundations; and he swears that Bartolommeo shall have neither the troops nor the subjects of this state at his disposal. He says that he does not believe that Gianpaolo will support him with his infantry, nor does he know whether the Vitelli will serve him with theirs; but that he will know of it if they do; for he keeps a confidential person near Bartolommeo, who informs him of all his movements, which he is thus enabled to make known  to us. He also tells me that he has written to Rome to ascertain what this whole affair is really based upon, and that he will inform you so soon as he has a reply. I am told that on hearing of the death of the Cardinal Ascanio, Pandolfo was quite gloomy for a while, but that he is now quite cheerful again and full of hope. One sees no great preparations going on here. In a long conversation which I had yesterday with Messer Antonio da Venafro, who is as it were the very soul of Pandolfo, and without equal amongst the other men here, he talked of nothing else but this agreement, which, he said, ought to be made for mutual safety, as then it would be easy to destroy any support that D’ Alviano might have. And one of the first steps which he suggested was to disarm Bartolommeo, but that for this the agreement ought first to be concluded. Your Lordships will now take all I have written into consideration, and will in your high wisdom decide what course will be the best.

Pandolfo has asked me several times whether the Marquis of Mantua has received his pay; I have invariably answered, that at the time of my departure from Florence it was about to be sent to him. And this morning he told me that he had heard from Lombardy that this engagement would not be carried out, because the Marquis saw that difficulties were being made, and he had not received any money. I replied the same as before, but felt inclined to tell him that I had news from your Lordships that you had paid him; but that you had to keep it secret, so as to enable you to lay a new impost, under the general impression that this money had yet to be paid. I did not say it, however, not knowing whether it would be proper. It will be time enough, however, whenever your Lordships wish it to be known.

Were it not that I am aware of your Lordships’ anxiety to have my letters, I should have waited until evening to despatch this, so that I might have given you whatever news Pandolfo may receive from D’ Alviano’s camp. But not to keep your Lordships in suspense, I send this now, it being the seventeenth hour, and you will please have Francesco del Nero reimbursed fifteen carlini.

That Bastiano of Cortona, Pandolfo’s barber, whom I have recommended to your Lordships by the enclosed, has returned here, having most probably made his escape. Pandolfo tells  me that he fears lest proceedings may be taken against this man’s property, and begs me to ask your Lordships to prevent it, offering to have him appear whenever you may require it. I urge this matter on Pandolfo’s behalf, and beg you will favor me with a reply that I may show him.

I recommend myself to your Lordships.

19 July, 1505, at the 17th hour

I have forgotten to tell your Lordships that Pandolfo has begged me a great many times to request you not to mention him in connection with the information which he gives respecting Bartolommeo d’ Alviano, as he should be obliged to deny it; and therefore he wishes you to keep all his dealings with your Lordships secret.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Niccolo Machiavelli

20 July

Sienna

LETTER IV.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

By my despatches of yesterday your Lordships will have learned what is passing here. Respecting the plan of detaching the Vitelli from D’ Alviano, which Pandolfo proposes as the best and really necessary means for getting rid of D’ Alviano, he says that he has given me only his own opinion without knowing what the Vitelli may intend; and therefore he must wait for a reply to the letter which he wrote them on my arrival here, in which he sounded them in a general way as to whether they were disposed to leave D’ Alviano. Since then the Chancellor of the Balia came to me yesterday evening at the second hour of night, and told me that Pandolfo had received letters in relation to that matter from Cornelio Galanti and from the Vitelli; and although they contained nothing that could not be deferred until to-morrow, nevertheless in compliance with his promise to let me know immediately what he might hear from the camp, he informed me that he had been advised that, according to orders, the troops had reached Selva, and that Bartolommeo intended going as far as Alviano, and that his resolve to advance was fixed and absolutely irrevocable; that he was waiting for the receipt of certain moneys to move, but  did not know exactly when. He said moreover with regard to Gianliso and Vitello Vitelli that they were ready to do whatever his Magnificence wished, although they would first have to write to Messer Giulio, their uncle, and to their other brother, who were at Castello, for they were accustomed to do nothing without mutual consent. He said also that he had heard from Rome that the Abate d’ Alviano had gone to Naples, after having first conferred with the Pope. After this communication the Chancellor left me, with the request that I would call in the morning upon Pandolfo. Accordingly, I was with him this morning, and he repeated to me the same that he had sent the Chancellor to tell me yesterday evening; and furthermore, that the army would move on Tuesday next, and would advance in this direction by short marches, so that he believed that within three days they would enter the Siennese territory; and that Bartolommeo had sent him word that when he should come within his dominions he would publish an order that no one should touch anything provided that he could purchase with his money whatever he might need, and that he ought now to make up his mind whether he would have him pass as a friend or as an enemy.

Respecting the Vitelli he told me that he had received a general reply from them, as he had written to them in the same general way to know whether they were disposed to leave Bartolommeo in case he should want them himself, and that he had not mentioned the Florentines nor any one else. And although they placed themselves entirely in his hands, yet as he did not altogether know their views, he did not know what to say. Still, to enable me to write something definite, he would say that he thought the Vitelli would be satisfied with an engagement for sixty men-at-arms, which is the number they have with Signor Bartolommeo; and that an engagement for one year, with the usual pay and provisions, would probably content them; and that he would manage to have the state of Sienna contribute one third of the pay. After that he started a doubt, saying that he did not know whether the Vitelli would be willing to serve within your territory; still he believed that the difficulty might be solved by stipulating in the engagement that, if you should require them to serve in any enterprise specially your own, you should not be able to compel them to serve you in person, but that in such case it should  suffice that they should supply only forty men-at-arms under some other captain; and that this would be the best plan for you to adopt. Pandolfo added however, afterwards, that such an engagement could not be made with the Vitelli without first concluding an arrangement with him, for the reasons which he had already explained to me; for he did not want to make an enemy of Bartolommeo without securing at the same time your friendship. I said that your Lordships were well satisfied with his having pointed out the evil, but not so with the remedies; for if the danger was so near, as he had repeatedly declared, and likely to injure him as well as yourselves, as he professed to fear, then it behooved himself as much as you not to stand upon difficulties in obviating it. And if the best remedy was to detach the Vitelli from Bartolommeo, then it should be done in a shorter and more direct way than that he was taking, and should not be managed like discussing an engagement in January that was to go into effect the following May. And that it seemed to me that fortune had now placed before him an opportunity for recovering your Lordships’ confidence, which he had lost by his former conduct; and that if he succeeded, by whatever means he could, in inducing the Vitelli to leave D’ Alviano, thus giving you a proof of his friendly disposition, he would not fail in concluding an agreement with you, either for a Condotta or anything else he might desire that was consistent with honor. To which he replied, that by acting thus he would at once make D’ Alviano his enemy, and that you might afterwards abandon him, and therefore he would not act differently from what he proposed. He did not believe, however, that there would be a lack of time, if you should be willing, because he did not think Bartolommeo would move as promptly as he had said, owing to the Abate’s having gone to Naples for the purpose probably of obtaining the money which Bartolommeo wants to pay out. He added, that he thought the Pope urged Bartolommeo to this movement, so as to give occasion for the French to come into Tuscany and thus produce some disturbances; for he feared lest this Pope should some day become another Alexander VI. I told him that this was an additional reason for promptly crushing out this spark, and whenever I have spoken to him I have urged him to think well of the consequences which this movement of D’ Alviano’s might produce, and that your Lordships were ready to take any course and to  employ all your power to save your state, as well as to take vengeance upon any one who attempted to injure it. But all I said seemed of no use, and I believe that his resolution is definitely taken. It would indeed be a good thing if we could get at the real truth of this affair.

Your Lordships will observe that all the information I have respecting Bartolommeo comes from Pandolfo, and whenever he tells me anything he conjures me to request your Lordships never to quote him; he also desires that the negotiations with the Vitelli may be kept secret. He declined to write them again to-day, or to go any further with them at present, hoping to have some reply from you upon which to base further negotiations with them.

To come back again to the information I have obtained respecting D’ Alviano, I would say that your Lordships should not rely upon it more than necessary, and that it would be well to try and obtain some information about him from some other quarter. Thus you could learn from Borgo and from Cortona whether any infantry are being raised at Castello or Perugia, and also whether Gianpaolo has passed the Chiane with his troops; for although Pandolfo says that he may arrive at any moment, yet we do not hear that he has really started. And this morning Pandolfo informed me that Gianpaolo would not go to meet Bartolommeo at Graffignani, as he had told me yesterday, because he had sent Ser Pepo to look for him at Alviano, where Bartolommeo was reported to have gone.

I must not omit to repeat to your Lordships that Pandolfo has affirmed to me a thousand times that without the Vitelli D’Alviano would have to abandon his enterprise, as he could not move one step forward without them. The reasons which he alleges for this are, that the force of the Vitelli is large, and that if they were to leave him they would turn against him; and such a sudden defection would disconcert the other troops, so as to produce the results which he predicts.Your Lordships will now form your own judgment of these matters.

I recommend myself, etc.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli.

20 July, at the 15th hour of the day

Your Lordships will please reimburse Francesco del Nero fifteen carlini for the present express.

Niccolo Machiavelli

21 July, 1505

Sienna

LETTER V.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

Immediately on receipt of your Lordships’ letter of yesterday, dated at the sixteenth hour, I called again on Pandolfo, and had a long conversation with him, so far as seemed to me proper, on the subject contained in your Lordships’ letter. His Magnificence found no difficulty in replying, having clearly in his mind all that he had said to me in answer to your first letter, and assuring me again that this movement was altogether displeasing to him, in proof of which he said that he had opposed it whenever he could, by informing you of it, and at the same time dissuading D’ Alviano. And moreover, that for the purpose of getting at the truth of the matter, and the better to understand the condition of this whole business,he said that he had written to his agent at Rome, directing him to see the Cardinal Santa Croce, and ascertain whether Bartolommeo had undertaken this movement by order of Spain; for if he had done so at the suggestion of that king, he would have to adopt a different course from that which he would have to follow if done without such direction; that he had received a reply to that inquiry this morning, from which it appeared that Santa Croce had said that he knew nothing about it, but believed that Bartolommeo did not have the approval of Spain. To make quite sure, however, he would write to Gonsalvo, and communicate to him thereply he might receive; but that he believed that Gonsalvo had ordered D’Alviano to desist altogether from this attempt. It is thusthat Pandolfo pretends to have done all that was possible for him, both by way of negotiation and stratagem. But that if it should become necessary to act openly and employ force, then he would need your Lordships’ concurrence and support, which he could not rely upon without a full understanding, and therefore he had always told me that it was necessary to conclude an agreement, and then to provide more powerful remedies. And that it had never been true that in this affair he had both the bridle and the spurs; that as to the spurs he had never had any, but as to the bridle he drew that as much as he could. But as he doubted his own ability to do all that was necessary, he asked the co-operation of your Lordships, but wanted it in such wise as would prove of advantage to each party, and not to one only.

I have endeavored to give to your Lordships the exact words of Pandolfo, so that you may the better judge of his intentions, and decide what course it will be best to follow for the interests of our republic. I do not write all the replies I made to Pandolfo, not wishing to consume your Lordships’ time; but I said all that my experience and judgment suggested; although it was of but little avail, for Pandolfo is a man who has all his plans definitely made, and is resolved to carry through whatever he desires. And therefore I said to him, in one of my answers, that I did not understand how Gonsalvo could order Bartolommeo not to march, as his Condotta expired on the 20th of this month; to which he replied, that it was himself who had stated that Bartolommeo’s engagement with the Spaniards ran only to July 20, because the last time that he was with Bartolommeo, and when speaking to him about engaging with the French or with you in consequence of the negotiations opened by Rucellaio, Bartolommeo said that he should be free to do so after July 20; whence he had concluded that Bartolommeo’s engagement with the Spaniards terminated on that day. But that he had understood since then that it continued in force till the end of October, which was most likely to be true, for it had commenced in October, and such engagements are usually made for an entire year; it might possibly, however, contain a clause that permitted D’Alviano to engage two or three months in advance with some other party. Pandolfo told me furthermore, that he had heard from Rome that the Pope was urging Bartolommeo to leave the territory of the Church, and that, for fear lest he should attack and plunder his troops who are at Otri, he had sent there such infantry and horse as he had at Rome. I observed further to Pandolfo,that inasmuch as Gonsalvo was not in accord with Bartolommeo, the latter could not avail himself of the infantry from Piombino, or of such as might come there. He replied to this that I was correct, but that he believed D’ Alviano would obtain infantry from elsewhere, and that it was for this reason that Bartolommeohad sought an interview with Gianpaolo to ask him for his infantry, and that Gianpaolo had gone to meet him, as he had previously told me, and had not sent Ser Pepo there, as he had subsequently stated. But that he did not believe that Gianpaolo would aid him, and that he would so advisehim; and that he had given orders to Cornelio to intervene in their negotiations so as to know all about it, and that so soon as he should hear in reply he would inform me.

After all this long discussion and dispute about this whole business, I said to Pandolfo, so that he might see that others understood all these natural or accidental subterfuges and evasions, that all these intrigues confused me to that degree that I feared it would turn my head before I could return home; for at one moment I was told that Bartolommeo was advancing with infantry and money furnished him by Spain, and then again that he was without either, and that Gonsalvo would order him to remain quiet; and again I hear that he will move in two or three days, which would show that he had received all the assistance he needs; and now I am told that he has been begging for infantry from Gianpaolo. One day I hear that the Pope depends greatly upon him, and the next that he is afraid of him. At one moment it is said that there is the best possible understanding between him and the state of Sienna, and the next moment that his soldiers are plundering the Siennese; and therefore I begged his Magnificence to explain to me all these contradictions. Pandolfo replied: “I will answer you as King Frederick answered a similar question asked by one of my envoys; namely, that to avoid falling into error we must shape our course according to events from day to day, and must judge of things from one hour to another, for time and circumstances are more powerful than human intelligence.” He said also that the present times were influenced by the spirit of D’ Alviano, a man who at the same moment inspired his neighbors with hope and fear whilst he was thus armed. Thereupon I told him of the measures which your Lordships have taken with regard to Mantua and Milan, so that others may the less look to them for support.

Nothing more was said about the Vitelli, as Pandolfo had not yet received a reply to the letter which he wrote yesterday, in which he enlarged a little more upon this affair. Nor has it been possible as yet for me to have a reply from your Lordships to what I wrote you about in my despatch of yesterday. No further news from the camp of D’ Alviano.

I recommend myself to your Lordships.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secretary.

Sienna,

21 July, 1505,

at the 19th hour.

Pandolfo has again spoken to me about his man from Cortona, and offers to have him appear before your Lordships if any unfavorable report is made respecting him.

Niccolo Machiavelli

23 July, 1505

Sienna

LETTER VI.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

Your Lordships’ last letter of the 21st reached me the same day at the twenty-second hour. Having noted what your Lordships write respecting the proposition of Messer Michele de’ Ricci, I called on Pandolfo and executed your Lordships’ commission in such manner as seemed to me proper. Pandolfo replied that he had not had any conversation with Messer Michele on the subject; and that, if the latter had made that proposition, it was done doubtlessly because he desired that an agreement should be concluded, and because it probably seemed to him the best thing to be done. And when I asked him what he thought of it, he said that he would have to confer with some of his citizens on the subject; but if he had to give his individual opinion about it, without further reflection, he would say that he saw no security in it for the people of Sienna. We discussed this matter for a while, and although I thought I perceived clearly what his sentiments were, yet it seemed to me well not to write immediately to your Lordships, for I imagined that possibly, on further reflection, Pandolfo might assent in part to the proposition. Nor could I yet write differently to your Lordships yesterday, not having had any further answer from Pandolfo, who has been occupied with the citizens of Sienna in a solemn festivity in honor of the return of the Nine. He excused himself on this ground, and deferred his reply until this morning.

Having gone therefore at a suitable hour to the Duomo, I found Pandolfo there with four of his leading citizens; and having joined them, Pandolfo said to me in few words that he would leave me with Messer Antonio da Venafro, who would inform me of their conclusion. Being thus left alone with Messer Antonio, he said to me that he saw no security for the Siennese in this proposition of Messer Michele, for he noticed  that it exposed them to two dangers; the one, in case the king for some reason should or could not decide; and the other, that if he did he might adjudge Montepulciano to your Lordships. And although it was believed here that your Lordships would cheerfully accede to a relinquishment of it, in case the king, after having restored Pisa to you, were also to adjudge Montepulciano to you; yet as but one of two results is possible, they would be left in doubt, and would therefore never consent, unless means should first be found to dissipate that uncertainty; and for this he knew of no better way than to do as had been proposed in the beginning. For to try and have the king do some act to reassure the people of Sienna would be a protracted affair, whilst there is hardly time to make suitable preparations for resisting those who desire to destroy Tuscany.

And thus Messer Antonio talked much more at length than what I have written. In reply I said all that seemed to me proper for the justification of your Lordships’ course, whilst he with his utmost ability neglected nothing to prove how much Pandolfo desired this agreement with your Lordships, and as he wished to conclude it with a good will, so he purposed to execute it even with a better will. Antonio added, that it would be so manifestly for your advantage that, knowing your wisdom, he was astonished at the difficulties made in deciding to conclude it; and that he could not comprehend whence this reluctance arose. And as he went so far in this matter I could not help pointing out to him that the difficulty lay more with others than with your Lordships, and was more particularly caused by those who wanted to take a greater share of things than what belonged to them; and that the impediments in the way of such a treaty were not so much the separation of Montepulciano, although that involved both loss of honor and advantage, as the proceedings of certain private persons here, which had caused a mistrust in the minds of many persons, and made them doubt whether even the cession of Montepulciano would be of any use; for they seem to think that others wish to subject them to their will both by insults and violence. The reason for their believing this was, amongst other things of the past which I will not now repeat, the rupture of the agreement with Lucca, and the breaking of the engagement of Giovanpaolo, and the present movement of  Bartolommeo d’ Alviano, with which we are threatened at the same time that we are solicited to favor it. He knew well that enmities were engendered by injuries, and friendships by benefits; and that it was a great error to attempt to make any one a friend by beginning with injuring him; and that therefore I had said several times to Pandolfo, to him, and to many other citizens, that to conclude this agreement easily it would be necessary for them to remove this mistrust that had sprung up, and to do this the greatest efforts must be made by those who were most to blame for its existence; and that it was the business of the Siennese to show themselves ready and united, and with a single purpose to resist Bartolommeo. That such a proof of good will would promptly produce friendship, and would assuredly put an end to all mistrust; otherwise, there being no time to build up such a friendship, I feared we should see the whole business get into such confusion as to fill every one with fear, and that within a short time here I had seen many people who would laugh in the summer but cry in the winter. That I had said on former occasions, and would now again remind him, that it was generally the feeble who had most to fear and least to gain from disorders.

Messer Antonio nevertheless maintained his case, and lacked neither words nor reasons to demonstrate to me that, Sienna not having any agreement with Florence, you could not reasonably desire nor expect any benefits at their hands; and that this had been the cause of the rupture of the agreement with Lucca, and of the breaking of Gianpaolo’s engagement, and of their doing nothing to remedy the present evil. For unless you became their shield, they could not draw the sword against others. But if a treaty were once concluded between you, you would at once become masters of Tuscany. And then he enlarged anew upon the great advantages that would result to you in consequence, saying to me several times, “Believe me, Niccolo, he who blames Pandolfo may give you many reasons, but will not tell you all that he has in his heart.” I combated him the best I could, but could get nothing else out of him.

Pandolfo tells me that he has no news from D’ Alviano’s camp, and presumes, from the fact that Cornelio has not written him, that the army did not move yesterday as he had written. He promises to let me know so soon as he hears anything.  This rests entirely with him, as I have no means of obtaining information on the subject from any other source.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Sienna,

23 July, 1505

Your Lordships will please have Francesco del Nero reimbursed fifteen carlini for despatching this letter at the seventeenth hour.

Niccolo Machiavelli

LETTER VII.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

By my last, dated yesterday at the seventeenth hour, I communicated to your Lordships the replies made to me by Pandolfo, and afterwards in his name by Messer Antonio da Venafro, to the proposition made by Messer Michele Ricci, as stated in your Lordships’ letter of the 21st. You will have seen from my letter that we have to give up this negotiation for an agreement, or to conclude it in the manner suggested in my first letter to your Lordships. Yesterday evening at about the twenty-fourth hour Pandolfo had me called, and informed me that he had received letters from Rome of the 22d, and from the camp of the same date. He read me the letter from Rome written in cipher, which, however, had been deciphered between the lines as is customary. The agent whom he keeps in that city informs him that the Cardinal Santa Croce had received a reply from Naples to the inquiry which he had made of Gonsalvo, as to whether Bartolommeo had started this movement with his knowledge or not; and that this reply stated that it was contrary to the wishes of Gonsalvo; and that he had sent a special messenger to Bartolommeo ordering him not to interfere in the affairs of either Tuscany or Pisa; and that the Cardinal de’ Medici had received the same information from the agent whom he keeps near Gonsalvo. Of the letter from the camp Pandolfo read me only that portion which referred to the Vitelli; and which says that an answer had been received from Messer Giulio and their brother Giovanni, who are both entirely satisfied to comply with Pandolfo’s wishes, offering  at the same time to do whatever may seem best to him, and expressing in the most ample and earnest terms their anxious desire to do whatever may be agreeable to him. He told me furthermore, that this letter informed him that the troops had not yet started from Selva, as had been lately reported; but that they were to start this morning for Capo di Monte by the road of the Maremma, and that Gianpaolo had met Bartolommeo, who had asked his support, which the former, however, had neither promised nor refused.

I thanked Pandolfo for this information, but passed over that part relating to the Vitelli, not having as yet a reply from your Lordships to what I had written upon that point; it seemed to me, moreover, best to do so, as Pandolfo himself said nothing more about it, except what he had read from the letter. I told him that I was not pleased with the conduct of Gianpaolo; that it would have been more proper for him to refuse Bartolommeo absolutely; and that he, Pandolfo, ought to do everything in his power to make Gianpaolo refuse his support to Bartolommeo, which I believed would be easy for him to do, inasmuch as Gianpaolo had all confidence in him, and was in fact in his pay. He replied, that he had ordered him on returning towards Perugia to approach as near as he could to this place, so that he might go to meet him; or to come even as far as Sienna, as he wished to confer with him in person upon this business. I asked him what he believed of Bartolommeo, and whether he thought that he would advance notwithstanding Gonsalvo’s orders to the contrary, supposing the information from Rome to be true. He replied, that he could not judge; but that reason should counsel D’ Alviano not to advance in opposition to Gonsalvo’s will, he being in his service until October, but that he was not yet clear upon this point; although it would seem to him clear enough, if it were true that the Abate d’ Alviano had gone to Naples for money, as had been written to him. But that, nevertheless, even if reason counselled D’ Alviano not to advance, desperation might cause him to do so; and for that reason he advised your Lordships not to fail in making suitable preparations. And that although three out of four who act from desperation generally end badly, yet it would be well not to allow Bartolommeo to be thus driven on by desperation, as we cannot move any one thing without stirring a thousand others, and events are very uncertain. And  then he enlarged again upon the point that it behooved your Lordships to put your foot upon this first spark of a conflagration, and that you could become masters of Tuscany by uniting it; and that this union would combine such forces that it could defend itself against whoever might attempt to assail it, and would be respected by everybody. And that if you suspected the Orsini, you could detach the Vitelli and the Baglioni from their faction, which it would be easy to do, inasmuch as they would feel themselves more secure under the protection of united Tuscany than under that of the Orsini; that in truth this matter seemed to him so easy, and offered such security, that he really believed the only reason why it was not done was because it was God’s will that this fair province of Italy should be ruined. In the course of his remarks he said that there was another means by which Bartolommeo could be rendered harmless, and that was to make him suspect to the Pisans, which might be done in a thousand ways. He did not want to enter into particulars upon this point; but respecting the other matters he said many things, to which I replied fully; but I abstain from writing them all to your Lordships, so as not to weary you fruitlessly.

I shall send this letter to the post so that it will be forwarded by the first courier that leaves; I would have sent it by an express, but that would leave me only one single scudo, and I am indebted at my hostelry. I beg your Lordships will either recall me, which would be most agreeable to me, or that you will provide me with the necessary means.

I recommend myself to your Lordships.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secretary.

SECOND MISSION TO THE ARMY BEFORE PISA.

I. TO ANTONIO GIACOMINI, COMMISSIONER AT THE CAMP. 19 August, 1505.

Yesterday, on receipt of your letter, and upon the arrival of Luca Cavalcante, we wrote you what had taken place since we received the news of the rout of Bartolommeo, and directed you to move camp, and proceed towards Pisa; so that we presume that by the time this reaches you the army will have started and gone in the direction indicated in our instructions. By the present we desire to inform you that, having heard the opinion of the governor that it would be well not to lose the present favorable moment and opportunity to recover possession of Pisa, and to avenge some of the wrongs we have suffered at the hands of our neighbors, we have become most desirous to follow his counsels. And having this morning had the sum of one hundred thousand ducats accorded to us by the Council General, we deem it well, at all hazards, to make this attempt upon Pisa. And to enable us the better to decide upon this matter we wish you at once to see his Lordship the Governor, and agree with him respecting all things necessary  for such an attack, omitting nothing, and beginning from the smallest up to the greatest, and to send us at once a full list of the same. And as the providing of the necessary things will require some days, we do not wish that time to be lost, but desire that it may be employed to the utmost possible advantage.

The first thing to do, therefore, is to show yourself with the army as near as possible before Pisa, at such a point as may seem best to you, and then to employ such means, be it either force or stratagem, as you may deem suitable for sounding the disposition of the Pisans since the news of our late victory, and see whether you cannot stir up some disturbance within the city itself; and in this way use every means of trying whether fortune may not have prepared some advantage for us without our being obliged to make greater efforts. And if after that the Pisans remain as obstinate as before, then move the army at once upon the Pisan territory, but in such a position that you may be able suddenly to fall upon the Lucchese; for it is under all circumstances our wish that, before attempting an actual assault upon Pisa, you should attack the dominion of Lucca, and plunder, waste, and ravage it with fire and sword in the most hostile manner, leaving nothing undone that can damage them; and above all, level Viareggio with the ground, as well as every other place of any importance. And so as to carry this out the more effectually, we desire that at the same moment of your entering with the army upon their territory, it shall also be assailed by the men of Pistoja, of Borghiniani, of Pescia, of Lunigiana, and in fact by all our other subjects who live upon the territory adjoining that of Lucca. And inasmuch as secrecy is of the utmost importance in this business, so that the Lucchese may not be aware of their being about to be assailed until they hear the sound of our trumpets, we shall not write to our different subjects what they have to do until a day or two before the attack is to be begun. If you think, however, that it would be better for you to write to them from the camp, then let us know, and we will simply direct them implicitly to obey your orders. If, on the other hand, you deem it best that we should write to them from here, then you will indicate to us the orders which we must give them; also the way in which you think this whole affair ought to be carried out.

To conclude now respecting all we desire to be done, and to reduce the whole to a few words, we want you to let us know at once all that you may need for the capture of Pisa, and for making a demonstration with the army before the town, so as to sound the disposition of its inhabitants; and in case this should produce no effect, what you may then need for moving the camp to a point from which you can suddenly strike the Lucchese in the above indicated manner. You are to advise us as to the orders to be sent to the people living near the confines of the Lucchese territory; and of whatever may occur to you as being necessary to give vigor to this attack upon the Lucchese; so that, after receiving your reply to this, we may understand how this affair is to be managed, and the time when it is to be begun, and how we can make sure that, having carried this matter through, we may proceed to the assault upon Pisa; so that the Lucchese, having to take care of their own wounds, may not attempt to try and heal those of others, and that they may know the fruits of war after having rejected those of peace. And so that our neighbors, seeing how, contrary to their expectations, we avenge bitterly any attempt to injure us, may themselves be more careful than they have been hitherto before planning any unjust designs against our state.

But in all this you must act with the utmost promptness, and before our army shall have forgotten how to conquer, or our enemies how to be beaten, and before unforeseen circumstances can arise from any quarter that could tend to chill the ardor of our troops.

We do not recommend what changes to make in the post according to the route you may take, confident that you have given all necessary orders upon that point.

If amongst the prisoners taken, there should be any secretary or agent of Lucca, or of Pandolfo or D’ Alviano, or of any other of the Orsini faction, you will send them to us here; and the same with any Pisan, or any other person notably our enemy.

Vale!

II. TO ANTONIO TEBALDUCCIO (GIACOMINI TEBALDUCCIO). 21 August, 1505.

Having seen from your last letter that you desire to have Niccolo Machiavelli with you, so as to be able to confer with him about all matters relating to our enterprise, we have sent him to you early this morning, with full instructions upon all points that are likely to present themselves. Our illustrious Signoria, desiring to act in this business with all deliberation and the approval of the mass of our citizens, although the money already voted for the purpose may be taken as an assurance that it is both approved and desired, have this morning anew submitted to the General Council the question whether the enterprise is to be carried out or not. The question was received with the greatest favor, and with the greatest unanimity it was approved, and decided that it should be undertaken at all hazards. The matter is therefore reduced to that point, that, God willing, we are bound to attempt it, and so it will be done. And as amongst the first preparations the raising of infantry is most important and necessary, and requires the utmost promptness, therefore it is one of the first matters to which we have turned our attention. And for this purpose we send you herewith a list of such constables as are with the army now, and a statement of the number of infantry that we have assigned to each. Have them come to you and ask them how soon they can fill up their number, and supposing that they will act with all promptness, let them send their agents here for money, which will be sent them without delay, so that they may proceed at once to recruit the necessary number of men.

We have nothing further to say at present, whilst awaiting the return of Machiavelli. You will take the same course with the other constables who are not with you in camp, but in the neighborhood, such as at Livorno, Rassignano, and such other places; having a clear understanding with them as to the time they may deem necessary for getting in order. And you will arrange with them to send their agents here for money,  and to make their levies with all possible despatch. And if you think that the pay of the infantry can be reduced to fourteen lire and seventeen soldi, you must so inform us, as in that case we may increase the number in proportion.

P. S. — You know perfectly the number of pieces of artillery we have, but we do not know how many artillerists are necessary for their service, and how many you have now with you. Consult with the Governor, and remind him of this matter, as well as of anything else that it may occur to you we should provide from here, and inform us of it without delay.

III. TO ANTONIO TEBALDUCCIO. 24 August, 1505.

Niccolo Machiavelli returned here yesterday evening, and having heard his verbal report, and read the list of articles which you require for your undertaking, we have decided to confine the same to Pisa, leaving all else aside for the present. And from last night until this evening we have attended to nothing else than to expediting to you as promptly as possible all the artillery and ammunition that you have called for, which we hope will reach you anyhow before the end of the present month. As to the infantry, which is of the most importance, and which it will require a longer time to bring together, we have noted the reduction which you have made in the list, and which we approve of. We have also noted whence you propose to obtain the rest of the infantry, and in accordance with your directions have this day expedited the Bolognese constables with money for a levy of one thousand infantry, and have ordered that the Marquis Galeotto Malespina shall raise four hundred of these; three hundred under his own command, and one hundred under that of his son. We leave it to you now to solicit the Marquis of Panzano and the Marquis of Massa. We have furnished funds to Gianotto da Carda and Giannesino da Serrezano for two hundred infantry; the Count Carpigna we purpose leaving aside, and in his stead  have taken the Marquis Carlo del Monte, with four hundred stipendiaries.

We have had here the Governor’s Almoner, and the Chancellor of the Count Niccolo da Bagno, who has raised a doubt whether that gentleman can serve, owing to certain difficulties that have arisen at Cesena. We have ordered a messenger to be sent to him in all haste, and await his reply. Guido Vaini has been furnished with money for four hundred stipendiaries; money has also been sent to Messer Martino del Borgo and Bernardino da Carrara for three hundred and fifty men between the two. The twelve hundred ducats you ask for, for the purpose of forming a corps of two hundred men in your own way, will be sent to you, and we approve of your doing so. To Messer Pier Bernardo, brother of Messer Vittorio da Canale we have sent two hundred ducats for levying two hundred men: the money has been sent in letters of exchange on Fuligno, in accordance with your request. To Cecotto Tosinghi and Messer Criaco we have sent money to add one hundred men to each of their corps, and the same to the agent of Zitolo for increasing his corps two hundred men. It is necessary now that you should urge the rest of those who have to augment their Condotta, but they must not send their agents here to levy their increase, for Signor Piero has not yet sent here for his. You must also let us know how you think we ought to manage about the payment of the companies that are with you, and when you think that we ought to send the money for their pay. As Machiavelli has recommended to us that it would be well to publish in camp, and in the country around, that whoever wants money need only to come for it, so as to deprive such as may wish to raise troops in aid of the Pisans of all chance of doing so, we have concluded to have such publication made; but it will be proper to delay this until the money is actually there, or until you are sure that it will be there within a couple of days.

Machiavelli has also suggested to us that it would be well to send some one from here to Lucca to ascertain the real disposition of the inhabitants. After examining this suggestion, we deem it better that you should send some one from there, with such instructions as may seem to you proper, to try and see whether he cannot make sure of having their support in this enterprise.

We intend that the five hundred pioneers which you have asked for the siege works, as also the other five hundred for the camp service, shall be drawn from Cascine, from Lari, and from the mountains and other places in the neighborhood. We wish to pay them with our money and settle with them every evening, and will send you the order to do so. Meantime you will instruct the Rectors as to what they will have to do to find a sufficient number of men for this service. The young men for the service of the pioneers, and for yours, are already selected, and will be promptly expedited; and you must let us know if amongst those intended for your service there may be any that suit you better than the others. This is all we have to say on this subject. As the sailors of the galleys and brigantines have to be paid in September, we desire that out of the moneys you may have in hand you would send four hundred and fifty ducats gold to the commissary of Livorno, Zanobi Ridolfi; and you will write him that this sum is sent expressly for the pay of the equipages of the said galleys and brigantines; and we wish you to send this sum so that it shall be received on the 28th instant.

MISSIONS TO VARIOUS PARTS OF THE FLORENTINE DOMINION.*

I. FROM THE MAGISTRACY OF THE TEN TO NICCOLO MACHIAVELLI, SECRETARY, IN MUGELLO. 3 January, 1506.

We have received your letters of yesterday, which you sent by express, and have paid the messenger for his trouble. We are well satisfied with what you have done up to the present, and commend you for the same. We exhort you to continue your efforts to the end with the same zeal which you have displayed thus far, so that we may be able to commend you again.

II.

Magnificent and Illustrious Signori, etc. —

So that your Lordships may know how I am progressing with the business of enrolling, and may not be surprised at not having received any news from me, I beg now to inform you that I arrived at Ponte-a-Sieve a week ago yesterday evening. But as this Podesteria is large and disorganized, and ill supplied with messengers, I could not complete the enrolment of the men here until Sunday. On Monday following I moved to Dicomano, where, by way of saving time, I had ordered the men of that Podesteria to meet me; this measure, however, did not succeed, for I found only those of the commune of Dicomano, whilst none from the commune of San Gaudenzio had come. On Tuesday, therefore, I went over to San Gaudenzio, where, thanks to God, a great part of the men of that commune made their appearance; so that in these two communes, that is to say in the entire Podesteria of Dicomano, I have enrolled two hundred men, which I count, however, upon having to reduce to one hundred and fifty. Two causes have contributed to give me the greatest trouble in this matter; the one is the inveterate habit of disobedience of these people, and the other is the enmity existing between the population of Petrognano and of Campana, who occupy the two sides of the mountain.  Of these latter I have enrolled such as I deemed suitable; but of the men of Petrognano and Castagneto, who make common cause against those of Campana, none were willing to be enrolled, although some forty of them appeared before me, with the son of Andreaso, who is their leader; and after much consultation amongst themselves this son of Andreaso told me that they had resolved not to go anywhere where their chiefs could not also go; if, however, it could be arranged that their chiefs should be secure, every one of them would gladly come. These several chiefs and this son of Andreaso are under a ban, and they seemed to think that a good way of getting this ban revoked would be to make themselves greatly desired. I replied to them, that I believed it was in no way your Lordships’ wish to force any one into their military service, but that it was a thing rather to be asked for as a favor, seeing the advantages that would accrue to those who were enrolled. They went away without coming to any other conclusion, and I am rather glad of it than otherwise; for thus this company will be, so to say, all of one color, whilst it would have been divided if these men here had been enrolled.

I returned here yesterday and expect to arrange matters so as to have the first review of the enrolled of this Podesteria on Sunday next; but although I have enrolled all together three hundred and thirty men in this Podesteria, yet I count upon having to reduce this number to two hundred, or even less. After completing matters here next Sunday, I shall go to Dicomano, and hope to finish there in three or four days, after which I shall return to Florence. It is impossible to give arms to the men of these two Podesterias at the same time, owing to their being a considerable distance apart. I have not been able to complete this business with greater despatch; and if any one thinks differently, let him try, and he will find out what it is to bring together a lot of peasants, and of this sort.

I recommend myself to your Lordships. Valete!

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secretary.

Ponte-a-Sieve,

5 February, 1506

III. TO NICCOLO MACHIAVELLI.

By your letter of yesterday we learn what you have done in regard to the enrolment of those two Podesterias; and we are much pleased with the diligence displayed by you in that matter. We are sure that you have lost no time, and that the labor of getting all those men together is more difficult than what it seemed at first; but he who does well acts quickly, and it is thus that we suppose you have acted in this business, respecting which we have nothing more to say except that you continue in the same way. Bene vale!

Ex Palatio Florentino,

die

6 Februarii 1506

IV.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I arrived here in Poppi on Saturday evening, and on Sunday I enrolled the men of this Podesteria, yesterday those of Pratovecchio, and to-day those of Castel San Niccolo; and to-morrow I shall make the enrolment of Bibbiena, which will complete the Vicariate. I shall unite San Niccolo and Poppi under one constable, and Bibbiena and Pratovecchio under another. These four Podesterias will furnish about seven hundred choice men. Unless the constables come and the arms are sent me, I shall not be able to do anything more. I write to Francesco Quaratesi for such arms as I desire, and beg your Lordships to urge the departure of the constables; and during the delay of their arrival and the receipt of the arms I shall enroll the Podesteria of Chiusi and that of Focognano, which may be equipped and drilled under the same constable. Your Lordships must decide whether you will arm these two Podesterias, and in case you do, then you must inform me and find another constable; and it might be well, if your Lordships approve of it, to appoint either Dietajuti of Prato or Martinuzzo Corso.

I beg your Lordships will favor me with a reply, and instruct Francesco to send me the arms I have asked for.

I recommend myself to your Lordships.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secretary.

Poppi,

3 March, 1506

V. TO NICCOLO MACHIAVELLI. 5 March, 1506.

Spectabilis Vir Carissime Noster: —

Yours of the 3d of March reached us only yesterday evening, and to-day we have attended to nothing else but to send off lances, which will arrive to-morrow evening at the place directed by you; and yesterday morning before the breakfast hour Malgante and the priest of Citerna left here, and should have arrived to-day.

We approve of your plan and encourage your efforts to enroll the men of the two Podesterias of Chiusi and Castel Focognano. Some action will be taken to-morrow respecting the two constables you ask for; and we shall send them promptly, although we do not know whether they are here.

We have also sent to-day arms and banners to Giovanni Folchi; but have not succeeded in finding Piero d’ Anghiari, although he has been sought for at Cascina and at home, as well as in several other places; for this reason Filippo da Casavecchia is still here, as he did not wish to leave without the certainty that the constable would follow immediately after him. Everything is being urged forward with all possible diligence.

VI.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I wrote to your Lordships on the 3d instant, informing you that, in addition to the four Podesterias of this Vicariate, I would to-day enroll the men of Castel Focognano, and to-morrow those of Chiusi; and that I should await your answer whether you wished to arm these two Podesterias; in which case, I asked that you would send me one more constable besides the two already designated. I have since then come over to Castel Focognano, but have changed my plans, for I find that this Podesteria is divided into two districts, namely, Castel Focognano and Subbiano, each of which is sufficiently large to furnish one hundred and fifty men. I therefore contemplate uniting Castel Focognano with Poppi and Castel San Niccolo; and Subbiano with Bibbiena and Pratovecchio. Thus two constables will suffice me, and therefore you need not send any more. But I should be glad if your Lordships would urge Quaratesi to send me the arms which I have asked of him, for I can do nothing more here unless these arms come, and I waste my time. For the present, I shall leave Chiusi aside; it might hereafter be united with other places of the Vicariate of Anghiari, or I may leave it by itself, for it is one of the largest Podesterias; but we must wait until the snows are over before attempting to do anything with it.

I recommend myself to your Lordships.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secretary.

Poppi,

5 March, 1506

VII. TO NICCOLO MACHIAVELLI, AT POPPI. 7 March, 1506.

Your letter of the 5th was received yesterday evening; and as we rely wholly upon you in the business you have in hand down there, and upon whatever you may judge for the best in  relation to it, therefore we approve whatever you may decide in the matter; and in compliance with your suggestion we shall not for the present send any other constable.

We have never been able to find either Piero d’ Anghiari or Martinello Corso; but as it seems to us that any further search for them would delay the organization of the levies of Firenzuola too long, we have this morning transferred this charge to Giovanni del Mare, who will at latest leave for that place together with Filippo da Casavecchia.

On arrival of this you will have received the arms you have asked for, as the Proveditore tells us that he has sent them all to the place ordered by you, namely, Castel San Niccolo.

SECOND MISSION TO THE COURT OF ROME.

INSTRUCTIONS GIVEN TO NICCOLO MACHIAVELLI, SENT TO ROME.

25 August, 1506.*

Niccolo, —

You will proceed by post to Rome, there to see his Holiness the Pope, or wherever else you may learn that he is to be found, and reply to the demands which the Protonotary Merino has addressed to us in his behalf, respecting the  enterprise against Bologna, and the desire of his Holiness that we should yield to him the services of Marc Antonio Colonna, our Condottiere. Our determination in this matter and the sense in which you are to reply to him are as follows. In the first instance, if time and place permit, you will praise the good and holy resolve of his Holiness, by showing how agreeable it is to us, and how much good we anticipate from it. And then, if you think proper, you will excuse with such reasons as are known to you the few days’ delay that has occurred in making this reply. And lastly, as to the request of his Holiness for our Condottiere and his company, you will say that such a request was so new and unexpected that it kept us for some time in suspense, because we have since last March dismissed our other Condottieri with about two hundred men-at-arms; having kept only what was necessary for our own wants; and having to keep the field for two months longer, we do not see how we can with safety deprive ourselves of any more troops. We say this, because, if we had known the wishes of his Holiness sooner, we should either not have dismissed those we did, or we should have engaged others in their place, so as to have been able to comply with the request of his Holiness, although it would have been very onerous for us, and we should with difficulty have borne the expense.

We do not mean to say by this, however, that we intend to withhold our assistance, or decline to lend our hand to so holy an enterprise; but are resolved to do most willingly all that is in our power to please his Holiness; not only to be personally agreeable to him, but also because of the great good which we hope will flow from this beginning. And being firmly resolved to concede to his Holiness the troops he asks for, we pray his Holiness that, until the actual execution of his enterprise, and until all other things are provided according to the statement submitted to us by the said Protonotary, he will allow us to make use ourselves of these troops; especially as the Signor Marc Antonio is at this moment the general-in-chief of our troops, and if he should leave the confines of Pisa that country and the troops that remain there would find themselves without a competent commander, and with an insufficient guard. But whilst the other supplies are being prepared, the winter season will be approaching, and we shall also have been able to provide some additional troops for that guard. And in fact you  can explain to and assure his Holiness that, when once his enterprise is fairly under way, and his troops and those of his allies begin to assemble and to march, and have received all the other support which the Protonotary has told us of, he may depend upon it that our troops will not be the last, and more especially so as they are in the neighborhood. You will add, that we have sent you to be near his Holiness throughout this whole expedition, and until we can replace you by our Ambassador, which will be soon; so that his Holiness may have some one whom he can direct to advise us at what time and where he may wish us to send our troops, or of anything else that may occur. And whilst following the court you will keep us constantly and carefully informed of everything that takes place, and that may seem to you to be noteworthy.

J. Marcellus, etc., etc.

Niccolo Machiavelli

28 August, 1506

Civita Castellana

LETTER I.

Magnificent and Illustrious Signori: —

I arrived yesterday at Nepi, and the Pope with the court came the same day; as his Holiness had left Rome the day before, he declined to attend to any business yesterday evening, and thus I did not see him. But this morning I presented myself before him immediately after his breakfast; and before rising from table he gave me an audience in presence of their Eminences of Volterra and Pavia,* and of Messer Gabriello, who has lately come from Florence; and so that your Lordships may know at the same time what I said and the replies made to me, I shall report both, word for word, as follows: —

“Most Holy Father, your Holiness knows how devoted my illustrious Signoria have ever been to the Holy See, and how they have always fearlessly and unhesitatingly exposed themselves to every danger for the purpose of sustaining and increasing its dignity. This ancient devotion is increased twofold with regard to the person of your Holiness, because, even before attaining your present elevated position, they found in you a father and protector of our republic. It is  proper, therefore, that they should desire the increase of the dignity and power of your Holiness; for such increase will also strengthen their hope of obtaining from your Holiness whatever they need for the welfare of their country. Nor could they give higher praise or show greater satisfaction with the enterprise, of which your Holiness has caused them to be informed by your envoy, than to pronounce it good and holy, and truly worthy of the sanctity and goodness of your Holiness. It is true that many circumstances and considerations of importance, both general and particular, kept them for a time in suspense and made them tardy in their decision, for they had learned that King Ferdinand was going to Naples, which, considering that some would not be satisfied with this, might give rise to some disturbances. They understand that the Emperor is with his army on the confines of Venetia, the government of which has sent its troops into the Friuli, and has appointed two Proveditori, and given them great power and authority.” (I said this because I had heard yesterday from a person worthy of all confidence that this news was true.) “Now this invasion of the Emperor,” continued I, “if he advances any further, is of the greatest importance, for it may cause great trouble in Italy, and therefore deserves to be taken into serious consideration. As to their own affairs, my Signoria have the war with Pisa on hand, which is as onerous as ever, if not even more so; for the Pisans show constantly an increased audacity. My Signoria have moreover dismissed this year some two hundred men-at-arms, and have kept barely enough for their defence, with no other commander for their troops but Marc Antonio, and to deprive themselves of his services might cause them serious harm. They hear that the Venetians are greatly dissatisfied with this enterprise, and that their Ambassador at Rome has given proof of it. Another point which my Signoria have noticed, and which your Holiness must pardon me for mentioning, is that it seems to them that the affairs of the Church are not managed in conformity with those of other princes, for they see the towns of the Church left by one door and reentered by another; as has just been done by the Morattini in Furli, whence they have expelled those who were placed there by your Holiness. Moreover, we see no indications of any movement on the part of France, which destroys all faith  in what your Holiness has publicly promised himself from there. Nevertheless, and notwithstanding these considerations, the importance of which is fully appreciated by your Holiness, my Signoria is resolved not to deviate from, nor fail in, its purpose of giving their aid to this holy enterprise, and are resolved to do whatever may be agreeable to your Holiness, whenever they see that the aid of which we were told by your envoy has become a reality. And as I believe that I cannot better express the wishes and intentions of my Signoria, nor lay bare the truth more effectually than by reading to your Holiness the instructions given me by my Signoria, I ask permission to read the same.” And having said this, I drew the instructions from my pocket and read them word for word.

His Holiness listened attentively and cheerfully, first to my discourse and then to the instructions; and after a few kind words replied, that, “Upon carefully considering what I had said and read, it seemed to him that your Lordships feared three things: the first, that the king of France would not furnish any assistance; the second, that he was himself lukewarm in the matter; and the third, lest he should make terms with Messer Giovanni Bentivogli and allow him to remain in Bologna, or perhaps, after having expelled him, permit him to return. To the first of these three,” his Holiness said, “I reply, that I cannot more effectually prove to you the good will of the king of France than by showing it to you under his own hand; and for this his signature will suffice without looking for any other proof.” And thereupon he called Monseigneur d’Aix, formerly Bishop of Sisteron, and made him produce the instructions which he had brought back with him from France, showing me the king’s signature in his own hand, and read to me himself two paragraphs which treated of Bolognese matters. The first of these encouraged the Pope in this enterprise against Bologna, offering him four hundred to five hundred lances under Monseigneur d’Allegri or the Marquis of Mantua, or both of them, just as he might please. And in the second he said that the agreement which he had with Messer Giovanni had no importance for him, as it obliged him to protect Messer Giovanni only in his own states, but not in those of the Church, and advised the Pope to act “quickly, quickly,” using these very words, at the  same time suggesting to him by all means to avoid exciting the jealousy of the Venetians who are at Faenza. After that his Holiness read me the other letters from the king, and signed with his own hand; the one dated in the month of May, which Sisteron had brought with him, and the other of this month and directed to the Grand Master at Milan, ordering him to furnish four hundred to five hundred lances whenever called for either by Monseigneur d’Aix in person, or by any one else authorized for the purpose by the Pope. After having read these paragraphs and letters from the king, his Holiness said that he did not know what more he could show me to prove the good will of the king, and that this ought to suffice your Lordships. As to his own lukewarmness in this matter, he said that he was on the road, going in his own person, and that he did not believe that he could act with more zeal or earnestness than thus to go in his own person to direct the enterprise. And as to the third point, the leaving Messer Giovanni in Bologna, or permitting him to return after having once driven him out, he said that he would on no account leave him there, and that it would be folly for Messer Giovanni to attempt to remain as a private citizen, as he certainly would not permit him to remain in any other capacity. And once having got rid of Messer Giovanni, it was his intention to settle matters in Bologna in such a way that in his time Messer Giovanni would never return there; but as to what any subsequent Pope might do in the matter, he said he did not know. His Holiness concluded by saying that it would be agreeable to him to have me accompany him, and that he thanked your Lordships for what you had promised him thus far, and that he felt assured that you would not fail in the rest, seeing the good faith of the king of France, upon which point you had had doubts; and that within a few days he would let me know something, etc.

I do not write what I said in reply, not wishing to weary your Lordships; but will only assure you that I conformed in all respects strictly to your instructions. Nor will I omit to mention that in the course of the interview his Holiness whispered something into the ear of Monseigneurs the Cardinals Volterra and Pavia, and then turned and said to me: “I have told you that I desire to bestow a signal benefit upon your Signoria, but will not promise to do it now, as  I could not perform it. Whenever I shall be able to do it, I will promise, and shall not fail in the performance; I will do it anyhow.” Thereupon I rose from before the feet of his Holiness, and having withdrawn with Monseigneur d’Aix, who, as already stated, was present at my interview, the said Monseigneur d’Aix told me that all the difficulties he experienced in France in inducing his Majesty the king to consent to this enterprise had arisen from the fact that his Majesty did not believe that it would ever be carried out; but seeing now that it was really under way, the king’s desire to serve the Pope had been doubled. I replied to him, that great astonishment had been created in Florence by the arrival there a few days since of an agent from Milan, sent by the Grand Master to Messer Giovanni to encourage him by assurances that the king would not fail him, etc. He answered that I ought not to be astonished at this, for that either the Grand Master had sent this agent proprie motu to render some one a service according to French custom, or if he had been sent with the consent of the king, it was that he saw that the affairs of Rome did not progress, and that really nothing had been begun. And that he himself was the less surprised at it, for being at court in presence of the king, after the treaty with the Pope had actually been made, his Majesty aloud in his presence bade an agent from Bologna to be of good cheer and fear nothing, for the Pope had asked his support only against Perugia, and that if he claimed it for any other purpose he would not serve him.

Having gone at about the twenty-second hour in the suite of the Pope to view the fortress of this place, which is very remarkable, his Holiness, seeing me, called me aside, and reiterated to me the same assurances that he had made in reply to my address in the morning, saying that he had arranged and settled most satisfactorily all questions that could keep your Lordships in doubt, and then repeated verbum ad verbo what he had said to me in the morning. And when I replied in the words of my instructions, that “your troops would not be the last,” his Holiness said that he had three kinds of troops in his service, namely, his own, those of France, and yours. Of his own he had four hundred men-at-arms, well paid, which he would send in advance, and that he expected moreover one hundred Stradiotes, who were coming from the kingdom of Naples and whom he had supplied  with money; and that he would also have the troops of Gianpaolo Baglioni, either under his own command, or that of some one else, as might seem best to him; and that he had his purse full of infantry; so that when all these troops were assembled yours might also come to take their place, as you did not want them to be the last; that he wished me to write all this to your Lordships, and that he would keep me informed from day to day of whatever might occur. He added, that he did not expect, nor did he ask, favors from the Venetians, whose sole aim was, and had been, to place themselves at the head of this enterprise by giving him their support. But that he had refused them, as he did not wish to concede to them what they had taken from the Church to his own great detriment and to your prejudice; and if he should not be able to do more than to persist in refusing to make such concessions to the Venetians, this of itself ought to induce your Lordships to hasten to co-operate with him, regardless of all other considerations; and the more so, as it was not to be presumed that he would stop there if his first efforts proved successful.

I replied in a becoming manner, confining myself, however, entirely to general terms; and cannot report on this first day more to your Lordships than what I have heard his Holiness say. But I presume from his last remarks that many days will not pass before he will ask you to start your troops, although those of the king of France may not yet have stirred; for it has been intimated to him to avail himself of these only in case of necessity, and not otherwise, because of the heavy expense which they would involve, and also to avoid incurring the hostility of this country, which seems so well disposed towards him.

Ramazotto, one of the captains of his Holiness, is here, and promises to raise two thirds of the mountain population here in favor of the Pope, who caresses him much. This Pontiff has constantly in his suite some six or seven cardinals, whose presence seems to be agreeable to him, either for the purpose of counselling with them or for other reasons. The other cardinals are dispersed at large through the surrounding places; but at the Pope’s entrance into Viterbo they are all to be with him.

The route of his Holiness, according to what I hear, is to be the following: to-morrow he will remain here, on Sunday he  goes to Viterbo, where he will remain three days; from there he goes to Orvieto, thence to Piegaio, and thence to Perugia, where he may remain a greater or less time. But his intentions are not known as to the way of settling the affairs of that place, or what arrangements he may make with Gianpaolo. It is said that the latter will come to meet the Pope, perhaps even before the latter leaves Viterbo. From Perugia the Pope will go to Urbino, where he proposes to levy four thousand infantry; and it is stated by persons in authority that before reaching Cesena the Duke of Ferrara will come to meet him, and the Marquis of Mantua likewise.

Nothing else occurs to me worth writing. I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ felices valeant.

Servus

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secretary.

Civita Castellana,

28 August, 1506

P. S. — I have forgotten to tell your Lordships that the Pope has said, even in full consistory, that Ferdinand, king of Naples and of Aragon, had some time ago given orders to his ambassador at Rome not to leave that city, as he wanted him to meet him at one of the neighboring ports, where he expected to be in a few days. But that he has since then written to the said ambassador to follow the court and find his Holiness; and thus the ambassador has come with a commission from that king to proceed to Bologna, according as the Pope might wish, and to make known to Messer Giovanni and to the government that, if they did not yield to the Church, they must look upon him as their enemy, and as their severest persecutor; and that he was prepared to come in person for the purpose of reducing them to submission. If on the contrary, however, they were disposed to make terms with the Pope, then he wished to be the mediator and conservator of such an accord, and would promise that neither the person of Messer Giovanni nor that of his children, nor their patrimonial estates, should in any way be molested. Iterum valete.

Die qua in literis.

Idem Nicolaus.

Niccolo Machiavelli

30 August, 1506

Viterbo

LETTER II.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I wrote to your Lordships on the 8th from Civita Castellana, which letter is enclosed with this. I did not send it sooner, as I did not want to trust to chance, it being an important letter and not written in cipher, as I did not bring any with me. Deeming it necessary to have it go this evening, I concluded to send it by an express, who is to leave at two o’clock in the night and promises to be in Florence to-morrow at the twenty-fourth hour. I have paid this express eighty carlini, and beg your Lordships will reimburse that sum to the Chancellor Biagio.

The Pope made his entrance into Viterbo to-day pontifically, and will continue his progress in the same manner. From Naples we learn that the Neapolitans are preparing to receive the king with all possible honors, and that Gonsalvo will go to meet him and do him homage. We also hear that the Venetians are raising a thousand infantry in the Romagna; some say that these are intended for the Friuli, and others say that they are intended to keep Faenza in check, lest its inhabitants should commit some folly during the passage of the Pope.

I recommend myself to your Lordships.

Servus

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secretary.

Viterbo,

30 August, 1506

Nicholas Machiavelli

this last day of August, 1506

Viterbo

LETTER III.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I wrote to your Lordships yesterday, and sent it by express, together with my despatch of the 28th, in which I gave a full account of the conversation I had with the Pope immediately after my arrival here. Since then his Holiness has made no further communication to me, nor have I made any attempt to see him; and have no other news to write except that the Venetian ambassador has explained to his Holiness the levy of infantry which his Signoria are making in the Romagna, saying that it is their custom always to arm themselves whenever their  neighbors do so. The report respecting the Emperor’s having advanced to the confines of the Friuli had been started by the Venetians, but letters have been received here from Ferrara saying that there is no truth in it. It is believed, if this be so, that the ambassador has set the story afloat by order of his Signoria for the purpose of embarrassing the Pope, and to chill his ardor by this news at the very outset of this enterprise.

An agent of the Marquis of Mantua arrived here to-day by post. The object of his coming is not yet fully known, unless it be, as is said, that the Marquis has sent him to present his excuses for not being able to come and see his Holiness as he had promised. If this be true, then some will be apt to infer from it that perhaps the king of France retracts; others believe that it is mere levity and fickleness on the part of the Marquis. So soon as I know the truth of the matter, I will communicate it to your Lordships. I have called upon Monseigneur Ghimel, the ambassador here of the king of France, and presented my respects to him as your Lordships’ servant, in such terms as suggested themselves to me. He replied in the most becoming manner, and in the course of our conversation assured me that his Majesty had offered to the Pope five hundred lances under command of Monseigneur d’Allegri whenever he might want them, and that they were ready at his disposal.

Of the merits of this enterprise, I can say nothing more than what I have already written; namely, that the Pope has taken the field in person, and moves on in the appointed manner and by the route which I have stated. He has not yet taken the infantry into pay, and does not intend to have any other troops than what I have mentioned to your Lordships. His own four hundred lances, with two crossbowmen for each lance, are under the Duke of Urbino, and commanded by Giovanni da Gonzaga; two hundred of them are under the immediate command of the Prefect, and one hundred under that of Messer Ambrogio da Landriano. These are all together on the frontier of Perugia. Giovan da Sassatello commands the seventy-five that are in the Romagna, but has received orders to advance. The Pope has here with him a guard of fifty mounted crossbowmen, equivalent to twenty-five men-at-arms; and this makes up the number of four hundred. These are the present forces of the Pope, and his own; then he has the troops of Gianpaolo Baglioni, and expects those Stradiotes from Naples. We hear of no other preparations  for this enterprise, nor of any infantry or of anything else that is required. It is said the Pope will enlist the infantry at Urbino, as I have already written, and will there organize all other matters.

Some of the banished from Furli are here, and are very discontented; they seem to think that they are sent from Herod to Pilate, without any visible result; they hope much, however, from this enterprise of the Pope’s.

I recommend myself to your Lordships.

Servus

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secretary.

Viterbo,

this last day of August, 1506

Nicholas Machiavelli

1 September, 1506

Viterbo

LETTER IV.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

By the enclosed your Lordships will have been informed of all that has occurred up to yesterday. Amongst other things I told your Lordships that the Marquis of Mantua had communicated through his envoy to the Pope that he would not be able to meet him, in consequence of orders received from the king of France not to leave, etc., which has since then been confirmed; and moreover that the Marquis has sent an agent to Milan to ask Chaumont for leave of absence, with instructions, if he cannot obtain it there, then to proceed to France. Although this is regarded by many to be mere levity on the part of the Marquis, yet it has caused the Pope much displeasure, and has decided him to proceed in this enterprise with more solid foundations and greater regularity than hitherto. He has consequently sent Messer Antonio de Montibus, Auditor of the Chamber, to Bologna to inform the government of that city that his Holiness intends coming there, and that they must give proper orders for his reception, and must also have quarters provided within the Bolognese territory for five hundred French lances. His Holiness has furthermore ordered Messer Antonio to proceed afterwards to Milan to claim those troops; but the Pope will not go beyond Perugia, or at farthest Urbino, unless he hears that those French troops have started; and thus he will remain here some days longer than he intended,  and will not leave to-morrow as originally contemplated. The reason why the Pope has changed his first purpose, not to avail himself of these French troops except in case of necessity, as I had reported, is the above-mentioned proceeding of the Marquis of Mantua; and also his wish, by thus starting the French troops, to check the Venetians, who are raising troops in the hope that by alarming the Pope he may allow them to take part in this enterprise and abandon France, and that thus he may be induced to cede to them Faenza and Rimini. Another reason is, that he wants to make sure of the French by fairly engaging them in this enterprise; and therefore he resolved yesterday to take this course. He tries with all the ingenuity at his command to reassure the Venetians, but that does not suffice them. They want to be sure not to be disturbed, and therefore they attempt in every possible manner to bar him the way, and to embarrass this enterprise with difficulties. I shall watch the result of all this, and keep your Lordships advised.

Messer Antonio will pass through your Lordships’ dominion on his way to Bologna; he will go either through the city of Florence or some other place. As it may be desirable for you to communicate with him, so as to have more particular information about these matters, I have thought it well most respectfully to mention this to your Lordships, to whom I beg to recommend myself.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secretary.

Viterbo,

1 September, 1506

Nicholas Machiavelli

2 September, 1506

Viterbo

LETTER V.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I wrote to your Lordships yesterday, and sent the letter, together with another despatch of the day previous, under cover of one from his Eminence of Volterra, by a courier who was going to France. I have informed you of the Pope’s intention of sending the Auditor of the Chamber to Bologna, and thence to Milan for the French troops. His Holiness has since then decided that the Auditor shall stop at Bologna, and to send Monseigneur d’Aix, formerly Bishop of Sisteron, to Milan to start the troops,  hoping that he may succeed more easily in doing it, as he himself had negotiated this matter with the king. He is to go by diligence and will leave to-morrow morning. The Auditor was to have left to-day, but it is evening now and as yet he has not started. I shall see what will take place to-morrow, and will advise your Lordships, who must not be surprised at all these changes; for with all these intrigues many changes have already been made, and many more will occur. Those who know the Pope say that with him one cannot place a thing over night and find it there the next day. The Pontiff will temporize, as I have said, between here and Urbino until he shall have received an answer from Milan; and it is generally believed that he will not begin to take fresh troops into his pay, or incur any other expenses, until after he shall have this answer, and until he knows that those French troops have started. The agent of Messer Giovanni Bentivogli here is greatly encouraged by seeing matters thus protracted, and affirms that he has promises from a certain king that he will not violate his pledge of protection. The Venetian Ambassador tries on the one hand to frighten the Pope with the coming of the Emperor, and on the other hand promises him certain success at Bologna provided he will cede Faenza and Rimini to the Venetians; but the Pope laughs at this, and does not listen to these propositions. It may however well happen, that, were the French to play him false, the Pope might possibly adopt that course. There would be no doubt as to the French, seeing the positive agreement which Monseigneur d’Aix brought with him, were it not that this backing out of the Marquis of Mantua keeps every one in suspense. I hear of nothing else, and recommend myself to your Lordships.

Servus

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secretary.

Viterbo,

2 September, 1506

P. S. — The Pope may perhaps go with the court to Montefiascone and Orvieto; that is to say, he would in person go to Montefiascone with a portion of the court; the remainder would go to Orvieto.

I say perhaps, so as to run less risk of being mistaken.

Nicholas Machiavelli

3 September, 1506

Viterbo

LETTER VI.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I wrote to your Lordships yesterday, and enclose that letter with this. Monseigneur d’Aix left to-day for Milan. I called upon him before his departure, and asked him whether there was anything that he wished me to say to your Lordships in relation to his voyage. He replied that nothing occurred to him, except that I might write to your Lordships that he was going by post to Milan, being sent by the Pope to demand those men-at-arms which according to agreement the king of France is to furnish the Pope; that he would pass through Florence, and if his time permitted he would call upon your Lordships.

The Pope, as I have said in my letter of yesterday, will do nothing until he receives the answer from Monseigneur d’Aix, and will pass his time with the court wherever he may find it most convenient.

The ambassadors from Perugia to the Pope arrived here yesterday. Amongst them is Messer Vincenzio,* formerly judge of the district and Podesta there. I have not yet seen him, and do not know the object of this mission; I can only guess that they want to settle the business of Gianpaolo. We shall see from day to day whether they succeed or not, and I will advise your Lordships, to whom I recommend myself, quæ bene valeant.

Servus

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secretary.

Viterbo,

3 September, 1506

Nicholas Machiavelli

5 September, 1506

Orvieto

LETTER VII.

Magnificent Signori, etc: —

I wrote to your Lordships on the 2d and 3d what was going on here, and sent the letters by Monseigneur d’Aix, who was going by diligence to Milan, for the purpose mentioned in my  previous letters. The Pope left Viterbo yesterday morning, and lodged at Montefiascone; and to-day he has come here to Orvieto, where he will probably remain until the affairs of Perugia are settled. After that he will await the answer from Monseigneur d’Aix either at Perugia or Urbino, according to which he will decide with regard to this enterprise, either to move forward or return to Rome, unless he should look elsewhere for support and assistance, but which I do not believe.

Negotiations for the settlement between Perugia, or rather Gianpaolo, and the Pope, are going on incessantly, and those ambassadors whom I have mentioned, and amongst whom is Messer Vincenzio, have come on here; they had an audience of the Pope at Viterbo the day before yesterday. In their address they congratulated his Holiness upon his contemplated visit, and encouraged him to come and see his city of Perugia. They then offered their service to him, and recommended themselves and the inhabitants of the city to his protection.

It is said that, after a good deal of talk, the Pope told them that he wanted possession of the forts held by Gianpaolo, also of the towers of the city gates, and that the ambassadors freely conceded them to him on behalf of their Signoria. Since then they are secretly occupied with the negotiation of this agreement, and they say that it is for this purpose that the Duke of Urbino and the Legate of Perugia have come here; they arrived this evening at dusk. We ought to see in a day or two what course this matter will take; at present, it is impossible to form a judgment as to what agreement may be arrived at; for until now the Pope has insisted that Gianpaolo should leave the city, or remain there merely as a private citizen and without any men-at-arms. He may however change his mind, partly from necessity, and partly through the persuasion of Gianpaolo’s abetters, of which there are a goodly number at this court. The necessity would be the fact that Gianpaolo has a force of mounted men and infantry, which renders his expulsion difficult, and when this difficulty is shown to the Pope he will easily be persuaded that it would be more advantageous for him to avail himself of the services of Gianpaolo in his enterprise against Bologna than to attempt to drive him from Perugia, which, in case the Pope should not succeed in doing it, would impede his main enterprise; but that Bologna once taken, there would be no lack of means for conciliating  Perugia afterwards; and that it is always best to carry on one enterprise at a time, rather than two, as the one may interfere with the success of the other. These arguments give ground for believing that Gianpaolo could easily escape his doom for the present; and to gain time is everything for him.

I shall watch carefully to get at the real truth, and shall keep your Lordships fully informed, although, having left the regular road, I hardly know how to send you my letters. As for myself, I have not yet received any from your Lordships, and suppose they have gone to Rome.

Of the Emperor we have no news; but from Naples we hear that King Ferdinand is expected from hour to hour, and that Gonsalvo seems to be more pleased at it than the others. I recommend myself to your Lordships.

Servus

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret. apud Papam.

Orvieto,

5 September, 1506

Nicholas Machiavelli

6 September, 1506

Orvieto

LETTER VIII.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

To-day is the 6th, and my letter of the 5th herewith enclosed informs your Lordships of the state of things here, and especially as to the affair of Gianpaolo, and what is generally thought of it. I hear since then that the Duke of Urbino and the Legate of Perugia, who arrived here yesterday, are shaping things in the way it was hoped for, namely, to save Gianpaolo; and that they have brought the Pope to be satisfied with availing himself of the services of Gianpaolo and his troops in this expedition against Bologna. Not that he takes him regularly as his Condottiere, or that he otherwise engages him; but he will give him a subvention for himself and his troops so long as they serve in this enterprise. Gianpaolo is to come here himself to render homage to the Pope, and he may arrive at any moment, so soon as an agreement upon this basis is definitely concluded. It is believed that the Pope will not change from this, as he will have men around him who will hold his hands behind his back, and will not permit him to change in matters that are for their advantage. It is said that Gianpaolo  has one hundred and fifty light-horse and one hundred men-at-arms in fine condition.

Seeing the course which the affairs of Gianpaolo are taking, it is believed, if they go on as I have indicated above, that those of Messer Giovanni Bentivogli are likely to go the same way; and that the composition with Gianpaolo, made for the purpose of facilitating the enterprise against Messer Giovanni, may also lead to an arrangement with the latter; for the supporters of the former will be equally those of Messer Giovanni, as they anticipate no less advantages from it. And Messer Giovanni knows well that the Condottieri of the Pope will be no less serviceable to him than those of Bologna. Messer Giovanni has made the offer of four of his sons to the Pope; and there seems to be no doubt that, if he were to agree to come himself, the affair would be settled at once; nor will there be lacking persons here who will support him.

I know that it is somewhat presumptuous to judge of matters in advance, particularly of such as vary every hour; nevertheless, it seems to me that I can never be wrong in communicating to your Lordships the opinions of those who are experienced in these affairs, so that with your wonted wisdom you may yourselves form a better judgment.

We have no news from Naples; but there are letters here this morning from Venice of the 31st ultimo, written by Lascari to one of the prelates here, by which he informs him that four ambassadors from the Emperor have arrived there, who came all armed to the shore and demanded of the Senate free passage and provisions for the army of their master, and for himself, to Rome; and that they reported the army of their sovereign on the frontiers, but that the Emperor himself is still some six days’ journey from Venice. Your Lordships will be able to learn the truth of all this by way of Ferrara.

His Holiness is to leave here within the present week, but I do not know the precise day; he will make one or two stops between here and Perugia, and will stay some days at the latter place to await the answer of D’Aix from Milan, and of Messer Antonio de Montibus from Bologna.

I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Orvieto,

6 September, 1506

I had forgotten to inform your Lordships that the Bolognese Ambassador told me this morning that the Venetian Ambassador continued to urge the offer upon the Pope, in behalf of his Signoria, that, if he would cede to them Faenza and Rimini, they would, without the aid of any one, place Bologna and Messer Giovanni in his hands. I cannot say whether this be true, and how they can on the one hand be willing to attempt such an undertaking, whilst on the other hand they have the Emperor upon their frontiers.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secretary.

P. S. — As I have the opportunity of sending you a copy of this letter which came from Venice on the 31st of August, I transcribe it below.

[Copy.]

The King of the Romans intends doubtless to come into Italy, and takes all measures for that purpose with energy and diligence; for he has already started his artillery in the direction of Italy, and a part of his forces have reached Villach, and some detachments of infantry are even nearer to the confines of this republic. But these forces are insufficient to enable him to remodel Italy, which this prince boasts of intending to do; for they hardly number nine thousand men. And although they are, so to say, upon the very confines of the country, yet he says himself that he wants the Imperial army to enter Italy first under another commander, after which he will enter with the troops referred to above, which he will himself command in person. We have not heard yet whether the Imperial army has really started, nor even whether it is fully assembled, and yet he can do nothing without this army, and cannot control it at his pleasure, as he does that which he has collected and put on foot so promptly in Hungary. It is no wonder, therefore, that here they should regard with doubts what there they look upon as most certain. With all this they do not cease here to make preparations, and to a greater extent even than they are willing to divulge.

According to news received here by post, the King of the Romans was four of five days ago at Gratz, a place about two  hundred miles distant from the frontiers of the republic. On Saturday evening there arrived here three ambassadors of the aforesaid king; the fourth has remained sick in the Friuli. They had an audience to-day, and according to what we hear they ask for free passage and provisions for their army; we shall know more after they shall have received their answer, in the course of three days. They and their servants came fully armed to the very shore, seemingly wishing to say, If the ambassadors are so valiant, what will you think of their troops?

Valete.

Venice,

31 August, 1506

Nicholas Machiavelli

8 September, 1506

Orvieto

LETTER IX.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I wrote my last letters to your Lordships on the 5th and 6th instant, and sent them yesterday morning by one of my own servants to the captain of Cortona, with orders to forward them promptly by special messenger to your Lordships. I wrote very fully, and, presuming these letters to have reached you safely, I do not now repeat what I wrote. I have nothing of special interest to say; but as Piero del Bene is about to start for Florence, I did not wish to let him go without a letter from me. Gianpaolo has not yet arrived, but is expected to-day, without fail; and a number of his adherents have gone out on horseback to meet him, for they know that he has left Perugia to come here. We shall see what his coming will bring forth, of which your Lordships shall be duly informed.

Affairs here continue in the same state as when I last wrote, and, as opinions of them have not changed, I shall say nothing further on the subject. The Pope leaves to-morrow and goes to Castel della Pieve, and will thence proceed to Perugia, unless some new incident should make him change his plans.

At this moment, it being the twentieth hour, Gianpaolo Baglioni has arrived with about fifty horse. Valete.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secretary.

Orvieto,

8 September, 1506

Nicholas Machiavelli

9 September, 1506

Castel della Pieve

LETTER X.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

The enclosed I wrote to your Lordships yesterday, thinking to send it by Piero del Bene, who however did not take it, as he started at the very time when I had gone to the lodgings of the Cardinal of Pavia; I therefore send it with this, although it contains nothing important. Gianpaolo Baglioni came to Orvieto yesterday at about the twentieth hour, as mentioned in the enclosed; he presented himself immediately at the feet of his Holiness, and had a formal audience. The Pope left Orvieto this morning and has come here to Castel della Pieve; whilst Gianpaolo with his suite, accompanied by the Duke of Urbino, has gone back by the direct road to Perugia. His Holiness leaves here to-morrow morning to go to Castiglione del Lago; and before going to Perugia he will probably pass two or three days on the lake for pleasure, and may then make his entrance into Perugia about Sunday.

The arrangement with Gianpaolo is said to be as follows: Gianpaolo gives up to the Pope all the fortresses of the state of Perugia, as also the gates of the city, which is already done; he places one or two of his sons as hostages in the hands of the Duke of Urbino as guaranty for the faithful observance on his part of the terms of the convention with the Pope; and submits as a good son to the authority of the holy Church. The Pope places a garrison of five hundred infantry in the city of Perugia, and at each of the city gates fifty men, or more if required. Gianpaolo is bound to serve the Pope with all his men-at-arms in the enterprise against Bologna, and the Pope is to give him a certain subvention for the raising of these men, the precise amount of which is not known. All these measures are now being put into execution, and everything is to be finally completed before the Pope leaves Perugia. Some of the Perugine banished are with the Pope: amongst them is a son of Grifonetto Baglioni, and one of Pompejo delli Oddi; Carlo Baglioni is not amongst them. All these proscribed count on returning to Perugia with the Pope, who has not sent them away, notwithstanding the arrangement with Gianpaolo.

To-day we have the news that the Marquis of Mantua is coming to see his Holiness the Pope, and that at this very hour  he may already be on the way; this news is regarded as positively true. This movement of the Marquis has caused a change of opinion here respecting this enterprise against Bologna; and it is supposed that an arrangement with the Pope will become more difficult for Messer Giovanni Bentivogli, as the enterprise against Bologna becomes easier for the Pope; for it is assumed that the French will hold for the Pope, although there is as yet no reply from D’Aix. But it is conjectured, because the Marquis has given them to understand here, as I have already written, that he has sent an agent to Chaumont for permission to serve the Pope; with instructions, in case of refusal, to proceed to France and ask it direct of the king. And having now informed them here of his coming, it is naturally inferred, from the brief time elapsed between the one resolution and the other, that the permission came from Milan and not from France, and that thus they adhere to the old agreement which was brought here by D’Aix. And there can be no doubt that, if France does not play him false, the enterprise against Bologna will be carried through without fail, despite the attempts to prevent it by agreements. We must now see what time may bring, and make up our minds accordingly.

I must not omit to tell your Lordships that, on meeting the Cardinal of Pavia this morning on the road, he called me to him and said: “Secretary, Messer Filiberto has written to me that, whilst passing through Florence, some citizens had told him that the Pope deceived himself if he believed that Florence would aid him, even to the extent of one horse, in his enterprise against Bologna; and that the republic would at no price consent to it.” I answered him that I did not believe it; that such things were said by idle persons who did not understand the merits of these matters; and that our republic was accustomed to go forward and never to turn back; and that if the Pope did not recede from his projects and his promises, our republic would not fall short one iota from her engagements. He replied, that he believed me, and that he had not been willing to say anything to the Pope about it, so as not to irritate him or make him indignant. Bene valete!

Servus

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret apud Papam.

Castel della Pieve,

9 September, 1506

P. S. — The Pope will remain Friday and Saturday at Castiglione del Lago, and on Sunday will go to Perugia; but he may possibly stay longer on the lake and on your frontier. I give you this information, so that if you should deem it well to present to his Holiness some wine or other choice product of your country, your Lordships may know his whereabouts. I am sure that it would prove most acceptable to him.

Nicholas Machiavelli

12 September, 1506

Corciano

LETTER XI.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

My last letters were of the 8th and 9th, written from Castel della Pieve, and were sent by way of Cortona. On the 10th, the Pope came to Castiglione del Lago; and although he had said that he would remain there all this day, yet he went yesterday to Passignano, a castle about five miles from Perugia, into which city he will to-morrow make his pontifical entrance. Since my last, I have received your Lordships’ letters of the 7th and 9th, and, deeming it well to communicate the advices contained in yours of the 9th to the Pope, I called upon his Holiness and made them known to him. He told me that he had the same information as to the king of Aragon, but that he did not believe that Gonsalvo would march against him, but rather that he would take to flight. And so he said that he did not believe the news about the Emperor, as he knew for certain that the Emperor was not in a situation to make a descent into Italy; and that all these reports were mere inventions of the Venetians to suit their own purposes. As to what your Lordships say in your letter of the 7th, that his Holiness should be informed, etc., I can assure you that he is reminded of it every day. But if France should play him false, and if this rumored descent of the Emperor should not be true or speedy, then it might well be that there would be no remedy, and that in that case the Pope should think less of the injuries to the Church, or of the dangers to others, than of his own shame, which would be great indeed if he were to return to Rome without having attempted anything after having gone so far. But those who know the Pope’s nature, as your Lordships do, will not doubt this; there is no remedy for it, however, except for  ourselves to do that which it would be judged pernicious to allow others to do.

A great many prudent people think, as I have already written, that these stories about the Emperor are exaggerated by Venetians in France and here, either for the purpose of embarrassing the projects of the Pope by restraining him, and by troubling the waters in France; or for the purpose of seeing whether they cannot induce the king to make some new treaty, by which they would gain in Italy and out of it, if nothing else, at least such credit as would facilitate the execution of their schemes. The Pope himself is of this opinion, for when I communicated those letters to him he said to me, “These Venetians make the Emperor move at their pleasure.” But all will be settled if the Marquis of Mantua comes, and if the king of France moves willingly, of which they had some hopes when I last wrote to your Lordships, since when I have heard nothing further.

By my other letter I informed your Lordships that, despite all the conventions made with Gianpaolo, the Pope will take with him all the banished, excepting Carlo Baglioni and Girolamo della Penne. Yesterday evening at Passignano, where we stopped over night, the Pope had them called to him, and said to them, that for good reasons he did not wish them to enter into Perugia with him; that he would leave them there, but would send for them after he should himself have been two or three days in the city. He advised them to be of good cheer, for their affairs would be readily arranged; that he wanted anyhow to put down Gianpaolo, and settle things so that they could remain secure within Perugia. That it was for this reason that he had ordered the fortresses to be given up to him, and a garrison placed in Perugia to suit himself, and that the sons of Gianpaolo should remain at Urbino. That he intended to withdraw the men-at-arms of Gianpaolo from the Perugine territory, and take them with him, but not under the command of Gianpaolo, whom he wanted always to remain in person near the Duke. But that he had no intention of taking his life on account of the old troubles; but that if he committed the least venial sin, he would punish him for all put together.

These proscribed complain that they are not allowed to enter Perugia with the Pope; and see in it a trick of those who  wish to save Gianpaolo, and who, unable to make the Pope by a single step desist from his enterprise, endeavor by this means to make him withdraw from it little by little. And they believe that the disturbance which their return to Perugia might create has been used as a scarecrow to frighten the Pope. These proscribed fear lest those who have caused the Pope not to allow them to enter with him into Perugia should succeed in persuading him to let them remain a few years longer in exile. All their hopes of being able to return to Perugia were based upon their going in with the Pope, as their own friends could then sustain their cause. Another ground of anxiety for them is, that they see all these matters placed in the hands of the Duke of Urbino, who is to hold the hostages as well as the person of Gianpaolo himself, according to what the Pope told them. It seems to them that everything is thus placed in the hands of the adverse party; but above all things they fear lest the garrison which is to be placed in Perugia should be some of the Duke’s infantry; they are resolved therefore to do all in their power to dissuade the Pope from this, and to induce him to raise this garrison either in your Val di Chiana, or from other places that can be depended upon. Your Lordships will therefore think of what you wish done in case the request should be made to permit the constables of the Church to raise troops in the Val di Chiana.

In the same way as these banished have spoken to me of their affairs, so have Messer Vincenzio and other agents of Gianpaolo spoken to me. I listen to them all, but do not commit myself, and say to each that they are right. I do this because I do not know which will be best for our republic; nor do I know your Lordships’ views on the subject.

It is said that the Legate of Perugia, who went with Gianpaolo from Orvieto to Perugia, is to return here to-day to settle this affair of the banished with the Pope, as well as other matters relating to that city. Valete.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secretary.

Corciano,

12 September, 1506

Nicholas Machiavelli

13 September, 1506

Perugia

LETTER XII.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I wrote to your Lordships yesterday, and enclose the letter herewith. To-day the Pope made his solemn entrance into Perugia, leaving the banished, who accompanied him, at the place indicated in my letter of yesterday, and with such hopes as I therein stated.

Monseigneur de Narbonne did not have an audience of the Pope until yesterday, having gone from here to Corciano, where the Pope had stopped. Up to the present, it is not known what Monseigneur de Narbonne communicated to his Holiness, but evidently it was not agreeable to him. Since then we learn that he dissuaded the Pope in the name of the king from the enterprise against Bologna, alleging as one of the reasons the proposed incursion of the Emperor, and pointing out to him that, inasmuch as the allegiance of the state of Milan to the king of France was but feeble and uncertain, his Majesty could not risk stripping himself for the purpose of serving his Holiness. The Pope is very much irritated by this, but has nevertheless decided to carry out this enterprise by himself, even if all other help fails him. He has to-day expedited Ramazotto with money for the troops already raised, and has written briefs to your Lordships and to the Duke of Ferrara, asking of each permission that Ramazotto as his constable may levy troops for his account in your respective dominions. And he says that before reaching Urbino he wants to have six to eight thousand infantry together, with which he intends marching towards Bologna. It is believed that the Marquis of Mantua may perhaps reach Urbino this evening, and that he will serve the Pope in person. These several reports differ, as your Lordships will observe; but when one has to write every day, one must follow them, and that must serve as my excuse.

Touching the affairs of Gianpaolo, I must refer to my enclosed; and will only add, that since the Pope is here with all these reverend prelates, and notwithstanding the fact that the troops of the Church are quartered all around these gates, whilst those of Gianpaolo are at a somewhat greater distance, yet the Pope and the Sacred College are more at the discretion of Gianpaolo than he is at theirs. And if Gianpaolo  does no harm to him who came to deprive him of his state, it must be attributed to his good nature and humanity. How these matters will end, I do not pretend to know; but we shall see within the six or eight days that the Pope remains here. Once Gianpaolo said that there had been two ways for him to save his state; the one by force, and the other by humility and by trusting the friends who counselled him to it. That he had not been willing to employ the first, but had adopted the second, and for that reason had put everything into the hands of the Duke of Urbino. It was this Duke who had induced him to come to Orvieto to see the Pope, and to do all the other things that have happened. The troops that are to guard the public square and the gates, and which, as I advised you, were to have been in Perugia before the entrance of the Pope, are not yet there, although the Pope is; this was one of the things confided to the Duke of Urbino; it is said, however, that they will be here within a couple of days. I have nothing else to communicate, but to recommend myself to your Lordships.

Servus

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secretary.

Perugia,

13 September, 1506

Nicholas Machiavelli

14 September, 1506

Perugia

LETTER XIII.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I wrote to your Lordships yesterday, and sent the letter together with another of mine of the 12th by a courier of Cortona, and the captain of that place will have forwarded them to your Lordships. Amongst other things I mentioned that Ramazotto had been sent by the Pope to levy troops; and I believed that he had already started for that purpose yesterday. Meeting him, however, at court this morning, he told me that he would receive his final instructions to-day, and would start to-morrow morning. If he comes to see me before then, as he has promised, I will charge him to deliver this to your Lordships. He has orders to raise at least one thousand men, and, if he can, as many as fifteen hundred.

As I wrote your Lordships yesterday, notwithstanding the  embassy of Monseigneur de Narbonne, the Pope is more eager than ever for this enterprise against Bologna. Nor does he seem to despair entirely of France; for the first advices of D’Aix keep him in doubt. And although contradictory decisions have come from there, yet the Pope is bent upon going forward; and if he really sends Ramazotto off to-day, it will be a significant proof. Every one looks upon it as a very bold undertaking for the Pope to go forward if France fails him, and all await the result with anxiety. Many apprehend that, as a last desperate act, he will throw himself into the arms of the Venetians; they find it difficult, on the other hand, to understand how the Venetians can openly declare in favor of this enterprise, if the king of France refuses so to declare himself; and they say that his Majesty either cannot or will not aid the Pope. If he will not, then it is not reasonable that he would like the Venetians to gain that favor with the Pope which he is not willing to secure for himself, and that the Pope, in his dissatisfaction with the king of France, should ally himself intimately with the Venetians. But if he cannot, and the reason be the apprehended incursion of the Emperor into Italy, then surely the same considerations that keep the king from going forward would equally restrain them. Many others say that the French do not consider the matter so closely, and that they are indifferent about others doing what they themselves have declined to do; and that they estimate and judge these matters quite differently. Time, the father of events, will show us the result of all this; but it seems to me that I am not wrong if, in informing you of what is taking place here, I write you also what is said here about these matters by the courtiers, and by wise and practical men.

It is not known whether any other decision has been come to as regards the Perugine proscribed. Gianpaolo says that they may return at their pleasure, but if they are cut to pieces he will not be held responsible for it. From what I hear, it seems to me that the subvention which it was intended to give to Gianpaolo is likely to be converted into a regular engagement (Condotta). But it is said that the Pope does not wish to have it exceed one hundred men-at-arms, whilst Gianpaolo is not willing to reduce the number he now has, which is over one hundred and fifty; but this matter will anyhow be settled in some satisfactory way. Your Lordships need have  no apprehensions upon this point, for, according to what we see, the relations between Gianpaolo and the Pope are steadily improving.

Nothing positive is said as yet as to the time when the Pope will leave here; it is supposed, however, that he may go about Sunday next. Valete.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secretary.

Perugia,

14 September, 1506

Nicholas Machiavelli

15 September, 1506

Perugia

LETTER XIV.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I wrote yesterday to your Lordships, and sent my letter by the Ferrara post under cover of letters from his Eminence of Volterra; believing them to have arrived safely, I do not now repeat the same. Since then I received last night your Lordships’ letter of the 11th, and at once called upon the Pope and read to him the information it contained. He seemed to be aware of the death of the king of Poland, but does not believe in that of the son of the king of Hungary, and affirms that, if it were true, the Emperor could not attempt to come into Italy, and that in fact he will not come anyhow.

I communicated furthermore to his Eminence of Pavia the paragraph which replies to the letter which Messer Filiberto had written him. He was much pleased at it, and renewed his assurances to me that he had not spoken of it to any one beyond his Eminence of Volterra and myself. I thanked him again for this, in the name of your Lordships.

This morning some of the troops from the duchy of Urbino began to arrive; they are probably those that are to constitute the garrison of this place, in accordance with the stipulations of the agreement. The proscribed have not yet arrived, nor has anything further been heard of them.

It is reported that the Pope will leave day after to-morrow, and move towards Urbino, and that he will make his first halt at Agobbio, or perhaps at Fratta. I believe in his departure, for he has settled everything here in good shape, and has nothing more to do here.

Respecting the enterprise against Bologna the opinion continues the same, that the Pope is most eager for it. Ramazotto has received his orders, and leaves this morning. I shall send this letter by a person who goes to Florence by post. Speaking this morning with the agent of Messer Giovanni, he told me that the Pope was beginning to listen to the Venetians, and that it might easily be that he arranged with them to unite in this enterprise. He seemed to regard this as very favorable, because he could not believe but what the king of France would lend his aid to Messer Giovanni in case the Venetians should join the Pope and openly declare against him, as the king would not permit others to do that which he had refused to do himself.

Of Monseigneur d’Aix there is no further news that I know of.

Yesterday I had a long conversation with Messer Ercole Bentivogli, who has come here with the Duke of Urbino. His opinions with regard to the Pope are confused; and he says that there is but one way in which the Pope can succeed in driving Messer Giovanni from Bologna; and that is by subjecting him to a constant expenditure of money; as, for instance, by going to Imola, and from there to spread through the surrounding places some six or seven hundred men-at-arms and five or six thousand infantry, and scour the neighborhood during the winter; and then in the spring raise a large force, and threaten the country with devastation. He seems convinced that Messer Giovanni would not support such a campaign, being unwilling to spend what little money he has without being sure of his safety, lest he should find himself afterwards homeless and poor. He seems to have no doubt that the Pope will adopt this plan; and speaking on this subject with one of the gentlemen here, he told me that this is really the plan which the Pope has decided upon.

I recommend myself to your Lordships.

Servus

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secretary.

Perugia,

15 September, 1506

Nicholas Machiavelli

16 September, 1506

Perugia

LETTER XV.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I wrote to your Lordships this morning of what was going on here, and sent the letter by Zitolo, who was returning by post to Florence. As another person is about to leave now, I will not lose the opportunity of sending your Lordships a line about what I have learnt since.

The Perugian exiles have returned this morning, but only the old ones; the more recent ones, such as Carlo Baglioni and those who were concerned with him in the homicide, remain in exile. I believe that, if the Pope were to give the order, they would also be allowed to return, which would be a great harm to Gianpaolo, as it would deprive him of the large possessions which he would have to restore to these exiles, who have still many old friends; and the minds of men who have been accustomed to look only to one man begin to be diverted from him. On the other hand, seeing the many supporters of Gianpaolo, and that his credit and reputation have increased rather than diminished by all these changes, it is more generally believed that these exiles would be cut to pieces if they are not wise enough to withdraw of their own accord.

The Pope has this morning declared in full consistory that the help promised him by France was ready; this, however, amounts to no more than what I have indicated in previous letters. He said, furthermore, that the Venetians had given him to understand that, since the projects of the Emperor have been abandoned, and the apprehensions on that account in great measure dispelled, they were not only well pleased with this enterprise against Bologna, but offered him whatever assistance he might himself desire. This is all I have for the moment to communicate to your Lordships, except to recommend myself.

Some say that the Pope will leave on Monday; others name Friday. The Marquis has not yet come, and it is now the twentieth hour.

Servus

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secretary.

Perugia,

16 September, 1506

Nicholas Machiavelli

19 September, 1506

Perugia

LETTER XVI.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

My last was of the 16th; I have not written since for want of the convenience of sending my letters, and nothing of sufficient importance has occurred to warrant the sending of an express.

The Marquis of Mantua arrived here on the 17th, and was met by the whole court. Yesterday he had a long audience of the Pope, but the result is not known as yet. I have talked with some of his suite, with whom I had a previous friendly acquaintance; and on asking them as to what the Marquis said of this enterprise, they replied, that the Marquis, being a soldier, naturally liked war, but that he did not like it near his own house or against his friends; and they hinted to me that he would do all he could to bring about an agreement.

Six ambassadors from Bologna are expected here; they may arrive at any hour, and we shall then see whether an agreement is likely to be effected; and so soon as I know I will inform your Lordships.

I called upon the Marquis to pay my respects on your behalf; he thanks you, and offers his services in return, etc., etc.

As already mentioned to your Lordships in my previous letters, the exiles from here, with exception of Carlo Baglioni and those who were concerned with him in the last murder, have returned, and are making unceasing efforts to settle their matters with Gianpaolo. There are difficulties as to who will answer for each of them. Gianpaolo says that he will be responsible for himself and his house, but that he cannot guarantee them against strangers or the whole country; that, however, does not satisfy the exiles. On the other hand, they cannot find any one who will answer for them, as no one here is willing openly to declare against Gianpaolo, who has been very cunning in this matter, having asked all the friends of the exiles to be security for him, so that, having promised it to him, they cannot be asked or compelled to answer for the others. Owing to this difficulty of finding security, there has been some talk of restoring to these exiles their possessions, provided they will not remain in Perugia. I do not know how they will settle it, but I do know that Gianpaolo and his friends are doing all they can  to prevent any arrangement. Gianpaolo opposes all sorts of difficulties to the return of these exiles, and above all to the restitution of their possessions, which yield a revenue of about four thousand florins.

Whilst I had gone out yesterday to meet the Marquis of Mantua, the Pope sent two of his grooms to my house to ask me to come to him. After my return I showed myself at court, and remained there all of yesterday; but not a word was said to me. I surmise that the Pope wanted that your troops should advance, but that he has since then concluded to defer it.

All idea of the Emperor’s coming into Italy has been given up here by the court, and it is said that this is in consequence of certain fresh letters received from Venice, which show that the project is entirely abandoned. It is reported that the Pope will leave here on Monday or Tuesday next, and follow the route which I have mentioned in a former letter.

I recommend myself to your Lordships.

Perugia,

19 September, 1506

I have omitted to tell your Lordships that the one hundred Stradiotes, which the Pope had told me he expected from Naples, have arrived, and that they are fine-looking men and well mounted.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secretary.

P. S. — To-day is the 20th, and it is understood that the Pope has changed his plans and will not send San Pietro in Vincola* into the Romagna, and perhaps will not even send his troops there; and that, if he does send them there in advance of himself, they will be accompanied by Bishop Pazzi,† or by some other prelate of similar rank. Notwithstanding what I wrote you yesterday, we hear from Venice that the king of France will act openly with the Venetians if the Emperor should after all  determine to come into Italy; and that they have replied to the ambassadors of the Emperor that he must come unarmed; and as these demanded on behalf of their master the sum of sixteen thousand ducats, in virtue of the obligation subscribed by them when he came to Livorno, the Venetians replied that it was not sixteen thousand, but about four or five thousand, which they would send him at their convenience; whereupon the ambassadors left dissatisfied.

The Pope will leave here on Tuesday and go to Fratta, and Bishop Pazzi goes into the Romagna.

Nicholas Machiavelli

19 September, 1506

Perugia

LETTER XVII.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

This morning I wrote to your Lordships the events of the day, and sent my letter to the commandant of Cortona by a person who was returning there. Since then we have the news that the exiles of Furli have tried to return within the walls of that place, but being discovered they withdrew shouting, “Marco! Marco!” and that they had both infantry and mounted men with them, which they had drawn from the Venetian dominions. Your Lordships ought to have more full and reliable information about this at Florence. The Pope has been greatly irritated by this occurrence, and has resolved to send all his troops in that direction, it seeming to him also very convenient with regard to his enterprise against Bologna, and having no further need of his troops near him until he reaches Furli. The Pope imagines, moreover, that the sending of his troops ahead on that road will and reputation to his enterprise, and at the same time keep things quiet at Furli. And so as to have some one with these troops who is competent to settle matters and regulate that place, he has sent with them the Cardinal San Pietro in Vincola, Legate of the Romagna; and I hear that Bishop Pazzi is to accompany him.

The men-at-arms are being reviewed to-day, and on Monday the Cardinal leaves, unless he should go to-morrow morning; the Pope, however, may remain here a few days longer, as he can do so without losing time, having sent his men-at-arms  ahead. I will keep your Lordships promptly informed of whatever occurs, and recommend myself most humbly.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secretary.

Perugia,

19 September, 1506

Nicholas Machiavelli

21 September, 1506

Perugia

LETTER XVIII.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I wrote to your Lordships on the 19th, and sent the letter by way of Cortona; I afterwards wrote again on the same day, but kept the letter until the 20th, and sent it by Andrea Carnesecchi, who was returning to Florence.

It is now the morning of the 21st, and to-day the Pope, after having dined, will go to Fratta on his route, unless he should change his mind; he is still awaiting the decision of the king as to the French troops. I wrote to your Lordships, that, in the pacification and settlement of matters here between the proscribed and Gianpaolo, amongst other difficulties one had arisen as to the guaranties and sureties for the peace which had to be given by each to the other. These sureties have since been given, and this morning, after a solemn mass, at which the Pope assisted, this peace was formally declared. The returned exiles will have their properties restored to them, which, as I have already written, yield a revenue of four thousand florins of the country. Gianpaolo goes with the Pope, and his troops march with the others. I wrote that it had been decided to send San Pietro in Vincola with the troops in advance to Furli, on account of the disturbances that have broken out there, and that Bishop Pazzi was to accompany him. This decision has since then been changed, and the Bishop alone is to go there, and I believe that this will be carried out, although he has not yet started. This is all that I have to communicate in relation to the affairs of the Pope, and I beg your Lordships not to be surprised at being two or three days without letters from me, but to accept my not writing as proof that there is nothing worth writing about.

From what your Lordships say in yours of the 19th, the affairs of the Emperor, according to the news from Venice,  are cooling off, whilst, according to information from other quarters, they are growing warmer; and but a few days since the news from Venice represented them as becoming warmer, and from other quarters we heard they were growing cooler. I am unable to judge of the cause or the truth of these changes.

We have no news either from Naples or from King Ferdinand. I recommend myself to your Lordships.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secretary.

Perugia,

21 September, 1506

Nicholas Machiavelli

23 September, 1506

Agobbio

LETTER XIX.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I wrote to your Lordships on the 21st from Perugia, and sent the letter by Giuliano Lapi. The Pope left Perugia on the same day and went to Fratta; yesterday he came here to Agobbio; to-day he goes to Santiano, ten miles from here, and to-morrow he will go to a castle about ten miles farther, but the name of which I do not know. The day after, he will go to Urbino; how long he may remain there, however, I cannot tell. From Urbino he intends going to Cesena by the mountain road, so as to avoid passing through Rimini. He will endeavor to settle matters in Cesena and then proceed to Furli, where all his troops, who went there with Gianpaolo and the other captains through La Marca, will probably make a halt. Bishop Pazzi left Perugia yesterday morning, and went by the direct route to Furli to keep things quiet there until the arrival of the Pope, who hopes to restore peace and order there, and will then decide finally with regard to his enterprise against Bologna; for by this time the Bolognese ambassadors must have arrived there. The answer from France whether their troops are to advance beyond Parma must also have arrived, and we shall then know, if not sooner, whether we are to have peace or war. The whole court is of opinion that some arrangement will be brought about, and yet all depends upon the French troops, although, as I have several times written, the Pope has declared that he will carry out this enterprise anyhow, even without the aid of the French troops.

I cannot say how long the Pope may remain at Urbino, and how many days he will take to go there, but your Lordships can form as good a judgment of it as I can here. I have nothing else to write, as there is really nothing new.

I recommend myself to your Lordships.

Servus

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secretary.

Agobbio,

23 September, 1506

Nicholas Machiavelli

25 September, 1506

Urbino

LETTER XX.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I wrote to your Lordships on the 23d from Agobbio, and gave you the order of march which the Pope would take to reach Furli, and to which he has thus far conformed; for to-day he made his entrance into Urbino, where it is said he intends remaining until Monday, and then proceeding on his journey. I have written that the affairs of Perugia were settled in the manner mentioned in several of my letters, so that we have only Bologna to think of; but that this enterprise remains in suspense until the arrival of the Bolognese ambassadors, and until the receipt of the reply from France, whether their troops are to pass Parma or not; and that we shall then see whether we are to have peace or war. I have nothing new to say upon this point, as no further intelligence has been received from France, nor have the Bolognese ambassadors arrived yet. I can only assure your Lordships again, that the Pope is hotter than ever for this enterprise, and that within the last two days, speaking confidentially of this affair, he said, that by his leaving Rome he had shown to the whole world his determination to reduce all the cities belonging to the Church to proper obedience and to deliver them from their tyrants, and that so far as in him lay he would show again that such was his intention; but that if those who had promised him their aid failed him, he would, etc., etc. Those who best know the temper of the Pope believe, that, if he is to throw himself headlong into any affair, this would be the least perilous into which he could precipitate himself. And they have come to this conclusion because the Pope has gone so far with his will and his demonstrations,  that he must either carry out his first intention, or hastily adopt such other course as may seem best to him; or that he deludes himself with the thought of some honest arrangement, if not in reality yet in appearance. But such an honest arrangement seems difficult to find. That he will succeed according to his original design is not believed, owing to the conduct of the French; but it is generally feared lest he throw himself headlong into some worse danger.

I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Urbino,

25 September, 1506

I stated in my previous letter that the Pope’s troops, and Gianpaolo with his men-at-arms, had gone by La Marca towards Furli; this has proved to be a fact, although we have not yet heard whether Gianpaolo in person has already left Perugia.

The infantry of the Duke of Urbino, that had come to Perugia as garrison of the gates and of the public square of Perugia, did not remain there, but have gone with the troops towards La Marca.

The Marquis of Mantua accompanies the Pope regularly with one hundred mounted crossbowmen, which he brought with him from Mantua. Iterum valete.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secretary.

Nicholas Machiavelli

September 26, 1506

Urbino

LETTER XXI.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I wrote to your Lordships yesterday, and enclose the letter with this. I have now to inform your Lordships that Messer Antonio de Montibus has returned from Bologna, and reports its citizens ready to give every proof of being well disposed towards the Holy Church, provided the Pope respects existing treaties; but if he attempts to change them, they are prepared to defend themselves. Messer Antonio makes great report of the preparations made by Messer Giovanni; it is said, however, that these preparations are calculated rather to make enemies than to gain friends, because they oblige the citizens to arm  themselves at their own expense; and there are many other measures of similar character that will provoke hostility rather than friendly support.

I conversed this morning with the representative of Messer Giovanni here, and asked him whether the ambassadors would come; he said that they had started to come, but, owing to certain declarations made by Messer Antonio de Montibus, they had become doubtful as to their safety, and had therefore written for a safe-conduct from the Pope, which he had offered orally, but declined to give in writing; and that, relying upon these assurances of the Pope, they had been written to, and that he believed they were now on the way.

Yesterday letters were received from France, which seem to have given great pleasure to the Pope, for he expressed the opinion, within hearing of every one, that he would have the French troops anyhow, and actually held in his hands a list of the officers and troops that are to come. More than this he has not communicated, and I am not able, therefore, to give any further particulars.

It is said that the Pope will leave on Tuesday and go in the direction of Cesena.

I recommend myself to your Lordships.

Servus

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secretary.

Urbino,

September 26, 1506

Nicholas Machiavelli

27 September, 1506

Urbino

LETTER XXII.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I wrote yesterday to your Lordships, and enclosed my letter of the 25th at the same time, and sent both by way of the Borgo. I have nothing of interest to communicate in this; but as the courier leaves for Florence and may possibly arrive there before my above-mentioned letters, I would not let him go without a line from me.

Yesterday evening, after having despatched my letters by way of the Borgo, I received your Lordships’ letters of the 22d and 24th, with the news from France and other parts. I shall use the information as I may judge opportune, although the  Pope must have received the same intelligence direct from France, for he had letters from there the day before yesterday, and is very hopeful of receiving troops from there, although, according to what I hear, no formal resolution to that effect has been received from there. I have written in my last about the Bolognese ambassadors, and the cause of the delay in their coming.

The Pope leaves here on Tuesday and goes to Santa Fiore, a borough of some hundred houses, so that I believe that one half the court or more will go towards Cesena to await the Pope there, and I shall probably be one of these, as it is impossible to follow him in such little villages; and as, moreover, it is not likely that anything of moment will occur during the two days required to go to Cesena. I have nothing else to say in this letter, unless it be that the Pope becomes daily more determined to go ahead, and to carry this enterprise into effect. Valete!

Servus

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Cancel.

Urbino,

27 September, 1506

Nicholas Machiavelli

28 September, 1506

Urbino

LETTER XXIII.

Magnificent Signori: —

My last to your Lordships was of yesterday, when I wrote you such unimportant matters as had occurred here, and which were mainly an account of the Pope’s journey, and that he was to leave to-morrow for Cesena, which he will do unless he changes his mind. He will take three days to reach Cesena, and will not go by Montefiore,* but will go to-morrow to Macerata, and so move on from castle to castle until he reaches Cesena, where he may remain some days and come to a definite conclusion respecting this enterprise; for by that time he must have received the final resolve of the king of France. Yesterday the Pope held a long conference, at which were present the Duke of Urbino, the Venetian ambassador, and Monsignore di Pavia. It has not transpired what subjects were discussed,  but it is supposed that it related mainly to this enterprise, and to the guaranty of security which the Venetians ask of the Pope through the king of France. His Holiness promises not to attack them, which corresponds with the information which your Lordships have received from France, according to which the king advises the Pope to satisfy the Venetians in some way upon this point, as your Lordships state in your letter before the last, of the 24th instant. It is said that the Pope is willing to give his verbal promise to the effect that during his lifetime he will in no way disturb them. But it seems that this does not satisfy the Venetians, who desire to have a formal and authentic obligation; and thus they are working at this matter. The more the Pope advances, the deeper he becomes involved in this enterprise; and they, that is to say the Venetians and the king of France, are watching for him to get into some strait, so as to bring him to bow to their will; and if the king holds firm to the Venetians, they may possibly succeed. But I have been told by one who is quite familiar with these intrigues, that, although the king hopes to humble the Pope in this way, yet the Pope will most assuredly humble the king, and will drive the spurs into his flank, if this resolution as to the troops does not come at the Pope’s convenience. What spurs the Holy Father may be able to apply for this object I know not, but your Lordships can form your own judgment of the matter.

From your Lordships’ last letters, of the 24th and 26th, I have learned the agreement between Gonsalvo and the king of Naples, which was already known here through some other source. Nevertheless I have communicated all the information contained in your letters to his Holiness, who was glad to receive it, and thanks your Lordships; he wishes me to make known to him whatever news I may receive from Florence, as he has much faith in whatever your Lordships write.

I have heard the agreement between Gonsalvo and the king much discussed, and every one wonders that Gonsalvo has faith in it; and the more liberal the king shows himself towards him, the more every one suspects the agreement, thinking that the king does it only for the purpose of reassuring Gonsalvo, so that under the guise of this security he may be the better able to dispose of him. Many other reasons are alleged which I do not mention, as the whole subject has no great interest  for your Lordships, and because matters of this sort are difficult to be judged of, as are all other things that depend upon the arbitrary will and pleasure of men.

I recommend myself to your Lordships.

Servus

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secretary.

Urbino,

28 September, 1506

Nicholas Machiavelli

28 September, 1506

Urbino

LETTER XXIV.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I have already written to your Lordships this morning, and sent my letter by the sculptor Sansovino, who was returning post haste to Florence. Since then the Pope had me called to him, and said to me, in presence of his Eminence of Volterra, that the only object he had in leaving Rome and subjecting himself to so many discomforts was to deliver the cities of the Church from their tyrants, and to render them secure against external as well as internal foes. That it was for no other reason that he had stopped at Perugia, and on his departure from there had made Gianpaolo leave also, and had taken him with him; and therefore he was most desirous that others should not disturb the peace and quiet which he had established. He was greatly displeased, consequently, to learn that Niccolo Savello, being on the confines of Perugia, indulged in conduct that caused apprehensions to the citizens of that town, lest at the instigation of Carlo Baglioni, or others of that stamp, he should commit some outrage upon them. His Holiness therefore entreated your Lordships, in the name of that affection which you had always manifested towards the Church and himself personally, to take such measures as would prevent any subject of the Church from being molested either by any of your people, or at the instigation of any one. I replied to his Holiness in a becoming manner, assuring him that it was unnecessary to write to you, yet to satisfy him I would do so.

His Holiness added, furthermore, that inasmuch as his nephew, the Prefect, was to succeed to the state of Urbino, he regarded that state as already his, although the Duke was still  in possession; and therefore he felt constrained to ask your Lordships to modify certain duties upon merchandise, and more especially those upon leather, as these duties were most prejudicial to that state. True, the Duke might by way of reprisal increase the duties upon all merchandise passing through his state; but that he did not wish to do so without first advising your Lordships of it, as he had done on former occasions, although it had resulted in nothing but fair words. And although the respect due to that state, and the merits of him who was lord of the same, ought of themselves to have influenced your Lordships, nevertheless his Holiness desired to add his request that you would lay him under a fresh obligation, as it was his particular wish that the Prefect should always continue to live in harmony and in good relations with your Lordships. I pray your Lordships to reply upon these two points in such manner as in your wisdom you may judge best.

For the purpose of more promptly solving the question with France, the Pope has this day sent his chamberlain Messer Menchier to Milan. And by way of doing honor to the king of Spain he has sent Messer Gabriello Merino to Rome, with orders to go on board of one of the galleys at Ostia, and go out to sea as far as possible to meet the king. His Holiness leaves to-morrow morning for Cesena, as mentioned in my letter of this morning.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secretary.

Urbino,

28 September, 1506

Nicholas Machiavelli

1 October, 1506

Cesena

LETTER XXV.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

On the 28th, I wrote two letters to your Lordships from Urbino, the last of which you will find enclosed herewith. On the following day the Pope left here according to previous arrangements, and went to Macerata, whilst myself with seven eighths of the court went to San Marino, and leaving there yesterday morning I arrived last night, at the twenty-second hour,  at Cesena. The Pope lodged last night at San Marino, and will stay to-night at Santo Arcangiolo, and to-morrow evening he will make his entry here.

Yesterday evening I found the six Bolognese ambassadors here, who are going again to the Pope, and are eagerly looked for by the court. They left here to meet the Pope, and lodged last night at Santo Arcangiolo, where the Pope is to arrive to-day, and where they will find the old Bolognese ambassadors and Messer Giovanni’s secretary, who were to await them there. These ambassadors had scarcely alighted from their horses and gone to their lodgings when a mounted messenger came to them from Messer Giovanni Bentivogli, who informed them that the father of Messer Giovanni Gonzadini, a Bolognese and Datary to the Pope, had been assassinated by some of his particular enemies; and that he had been sent to inform them of this occurrence, so that, on account of the son and the rank which he holds in the Pope’s service, they might promptly look to their safety. So soon, therefore, as the old ambassadors and the new ones heard this news, they hastily remounted, and, leaving all their effects behind, went off, taking the road to Rimini. When their flight became known, they were pursued by the men of Santo Arcangiolo, and three of them were captured, namely, the two old ambassadors and one of the new, but the other five escaped and are now at Rimini. The three that were taken are confined in the castle of Santo Arcangiolo, and the effects of all of them have been sequestered. It is said that the Pope has sent to recall these ambassadors, assuring them of their safety that is to say those who are at Rimini; but the three who are shut up in the castle have not been set free, nor have their effects been released. So bad a beginning is likely to give rise to other similar troubles.

On the 28th there arrived at Urbino a certain Messer Agostino Semenza,* a native of Cremona, and brother of that Paolo Semenza who was formerly secretary of the Duke of Milan whilst at Florence. It is said that this individual is secretary to the Emperor, and that he has now been sent by him to the Pope, and that he has many letters of credence for some of the cardinals and others. He reports the coming of the Emperor as positively certain. I do not know any particulars of what he says,  not having as yet conversed with him; but I will endeavor to have a talk with him, and will then inform your Lordships of what I learn from him. I understand that he says that the Emperor sends two ambassadors to the Pope, namely, the Cardinal of Brixen,* and Casimir, Marquis of Brandenburg, who have no other commission than to announce the Emperor’s coming, and have nothing to ask of the Pope. Nor have I anything else to write to your Lordships except to recommend myself to you, quæ felices valeant.

Servus

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret. apud Papam.

Cesena,

1 October, 1506

Nicholas Machiavelli

3 October, 1506

Cesena

LETTER XXVI.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I wrote to your Lordships on the 1st instant, and sent the letter by way of Castrocaro, enclosing at the same time one of the 28th ultimo. Yesterday evening I received your Lordships’ letter also of the 1st, in which you mention one of the 29th ultimo, but which has never been received. Yours of the 1st instant communicates the resolution taken by France in relation to the troops claimed by the Pope, and which the king cheerfully places at his service. This news had already been received here, and has encouraged the Pope to that degree that he looks upon Bologna as already conquered, and begins to think of other and vaster enterprises. It is said that this resolution of France is drawn up in terms most honorable for the Pope; and that the king has publicly discouraged both the Bolognese and the Venetian ambassadors, who supplicated him in favor of Bologna. I refrain from writing any particulars of this to your Lordships, for if true your ambassador will have informed you of it, and if false it is not necessary to write about it.

In my last I mentioned the murder in Bologna of the father of the Pope’s Datary, and the disturbances to which this event  has given rise here, and that the Bolognese ambassadors had fled from Santo Arcangiolo to Rimini, and that the Pope had sent to call them back, promising them perfect security. And so it turned out, for the said ambassadors returned here yesterday before the Pope had made his entry. So soon as he had reached his lodgings they were admitted, but they merely kissed his feet without saying a word. This morning they presented themselves again before his Holiness, and in a lengthy address expressed the respect and devotion of the people of Bologna to the Church, referring to the treaties made with several of the Popes, and which had been confirmed by the present one. They concluded by explaining the political conduct of their city and asseverating their religious devotion to the laws.

His Holiness replied, that, if the people of Bologna were devoted to the Church, it was no more than their duty, for they were under obligations to the Church, which was as good a mistress to them as they were good servants to her; that he had come in person to liberate the city from her tyrants; and that as to the treaties he cared neither for those made by other Popes, nor for that made by himself, for neither his predecessors nor himself could have done otherwise, and that it was necessity and not his free will that had made him confirm the treaty; but that the time had now arrived for correcting these things, and it seemed to him that if he did not do so he would have no excuse to offer to the Almighty; and that it was for that reason that he had started from Rome, his object being to make Bologna govern herself properly, and for that reason he intended to come there in person; and if her government pleased him he would confirm it, and if not then he would change it; and to be able to do so by force of arms, in case all other modes did not suffice, he had provided himself with an army that would make all Italy tremble, let alone Bologna.

The ambassadors remained confounded, and after a few words of reply they took their leave. To-morrow there will be another review here of the men-at-arms, who are quartered in the vicinity of Santo Arcangiolo. I think orders have been given for the raising of infantry, and, according to what I hear, the Pope will go on Tuesday next to Furli, where his presence is much desired; for it is understood that that place, notwithstanding  the proximity of the Pope, is constantly under arms, of which your Lordships can be more particularly informed by Pier Francesco Tosinghi.*

Since the Pontiff has been informed of the resolution of France, he has brought forward again the question of Marc Antonio and the hundred men-at-arms, which he asks of your Lordships. He has said repeatedly that he had not claimed them before, because he wished to satisfy your Lordships, who had importuned him to defer this demand as long as possible, and also for some other good reasons. But that he now desires most earnestly that these men-at-arms should be held in readiness to march promptly whenever he should require it. I for my part expect every moment that the Pope will have me called, and will charge me to write to your Lordships to start these troops. I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Cesena,

3 October, 1506

P. S. — Magnificent Signori, — It is now some days since I find myself greatly in want of money. I have not asked for any before now, because I counted every day upon returning to Florence; but seeing that this is delayed, I implore your Lordships for charity’s sake to supply me with means, and recommend myself anew.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret. Flor. apud Papam.

Nicholas Machiavelli

4 October, 1506

Cesena

LETTER XXVII.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I wrote yesterday to your Lordships, and sent the letter by the Commissary of the Romagna; nothing new has occurred since then, and I should not have written but for the opportunity which offered for sending it.

It is still believed that the Pope will leave on Tuesday for  Furli, notwithstanding that all who follow the court are displeased on account of the difficulty of finding suitable lodgings as compared with those here. Several of the cardinals have gone to the Pope to induce him to change his purpose; namely, to remain here in person with the whole court, and to send the remainder of his troops forward, so as to distribute the whole army between Furli and Imola. They did not succeed, however, for the Pope seems to think that it would detract from the lustre of this enterprise if he were to stop so far away from the main object. To-morrow his Holiness will hold a consistory, after which some definite resolution will probably be taken with regard to the way in which this enterprise is to be carried on. Whatever I may learn on the subject shall immediately be communicated to your Lordships.

The review of the men-at-arms did not take place to-day, as I had written in my letter of yesterday. It is now said that it will be held to-morrow. Gianpaolo Baglioni arrived here to-day, and the Duke of Urbino is expected to-morrow. The Marquis of Mantua is here as usual, and accompanies the Pope on all his journeys.

Ramazotto has sent a messenger to inform his Holiness that he has completed the raising of the infantry, and calls for the rest of the pay. There are no indications of their raising any other infantry, and some captains who have come here in the hope of being employed begin to despair. It is doubted, in fact, whether the Pope may not content himself with the two thousand Italians, counting, on the other hand, upon the three thousand Swiss whom the French want to have with them. I understand that he has sent thirty thousand ducats to Milan for three months’ pay of these Swiss, which they are in the habit of requiring before they march, as is well known to your Lordships.

The Legate of Perugia continues to write to the Pope that the state of things in that place is constantly improving, and that the mass of the people are thoroughly content, and cannot thank God and his Holiness enough for having taken the trouble to save them from slavery; and that they pray to God every day for the welfare of his Holiness. He writes also that he has caused the Magistracy of the Ten to resign their office, and has not allowed others to be elected, and that he has in this way abolished a magistracy that always sustained the  tyranny; and that it has cost him a great deal of trouble to carry this matter through, but that having done so had given him great reputation; so that according to him the Church pushes every day a fresh root into that city, whilst those of her opponents are daily drying up.

These are matters which we must leave to time to develop and confirm. I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ felices valeant.

Servus

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret. apud Papam.

Cesena,

4 October, 1506

Nicholas Machiavelli

LETTER XXVIII.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I wrote to your Lordships yesterday, and amongst other things mentioned that the Pope was to leave here to-morrow for Furli; from what I learn to-day, however, it seems that he will not do so, but will postpone his departure until the day after. His object in staying over is to adjust matters here a little better, and to restore tranquillity amongst these people of Cesena. But if to establish peace here is difficult, to maintain it is still more so; for these people have indulged in murder, robbery, arson, and every other act of violence and hostility against one another. Yet the Pope has patched up matters between them, and it is supposed that, if he is successful in this enterprise against Bologna, he may afterwards consolidate this peace here if he is so inclined.

The review of the men-at-arms has been held; there were six hundred men, counting two light-horse for each man-at-arms. The one thousand infantry of the Duke of Urbino were also reviewed; also sixteen hundred other infantry, which the Pope had employed Nanni Morattini of Furli* to raise, and in addition to these three hundred Swiss of the Pope’s guard. The troops raised by Ramazotto have not yet made their appearance; but he came here in person, and stated that he had organized four thousand in case the Pope should want them.  He bestows great praise upon your Lordships for having permitted him to engage even some of those that had been enrolled for your service. I cannot refrain from telling your Lordships that, if you were to see the troops of the Duke of Urbino and those of Morattini, your Lordships would not feel ashamed of your own troops, nor esteem them lightly.

This morning the Pope held a consistory, and the only thing discussed was the resolve to employ ecclesiastical censure against Bologna in addition to the force of arms that has been prepared. It seems to me that Messer Giovanni Bentivogli is beginning to give way somewhat, and to come down a little from the high ground which he has assumed till now.

It is understood that the French are coming by day’s marches, and that Chaumont is coming with them, and that their force consists of six hundred lances, three thousand infantry, and twenty-four pieces of artillery.

This morning after the review the Marquis of Mantua and the Duke of Urbino remained closeted with the Pope for over three hours. It is supposed that the subject under discussion was this enterprise, but no particulars are known; I learn, however, from a person who has conversed with the Marquis, that he makes a thousand difficulties.

I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Servus

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Consul. apud Papam.

Nicholas Machiavelli

6 October, 1506

Cesena

LETTER XXIX.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I wrote to your Lordships yesterday, and inter cætera stated that the departure of the Pope from here had been fixed for to-morrow. It seems, however, that he has again changed his mind; and there will be a consistory to-morrow, at which the only question to be examined is the manner in which the ecclesiastical censure is to be launched against the Bolognese.

At this moment, it being about the twenty-second hour, the ambassador of the king of Castile has notified the Pope that his Majesty has died, at Burgos, of a malady called in Italy  the “Mazzucco”;* and as this death may cause the return of King Ferdinand to Spain, or some other movement, I write to your Lordships in all haste by way of Castrocaro, fearing that your Lordships will not get this news so promptly in any other way. The Pope has to-day engaged Ramazotto with six hundred infantry, and Nanni Morattini with three hundred men, and has taken measures to have some five to six thousand at his option, of which the one thousand men from Feltro constitute a part, as I have before mentioned to your Lordships. The French will bring with them four to five thousand men.

The Bolognese have opened negotiations, and ask that two cardinals be sent there to see and make reforms; but his Holiness persists in his resolution to march upon Bologna. It is said now that he will start to-morrow after dinner, which seems to me difficult; but we shall certainly start the day after for Furli. Valete.

Servus

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret. apud Papam.

Cesena,

6 October, 1506

Nicholas Machiavelli

9 October, 1506

Furli

LETTER XXX.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I wrote to your Lordships on the 6th, informing you amongst other things of the death of the king of Castile, which event is here construed favorably to the plans of the Pope. For it is believed that the king of France, on whom the Pope mainly relies, will be more at liberty to favor the Church and to protect Italy against those who would devour her. All that is needed now is that the Almighty should allow both of them to live, and then matters might very soon assume a different color. May the Almighty shape things for the best!

At the last consistory, which was held at Cesena on the 7th instant, it was resolved that the Interdict should be launched against that city and its government. Since then the Pope has come here and made a solemn entrance into this place. And if in the beginning his Holiness was hot for this enterprise, he is now all on fire for it, and has sent the Bishop of Concordia* to Rome, accompanied by another prelate, to fetch a large sum of money from there, as the Pope is not willing to trust to letters of exchange. All the men-at-arms have gone from here to Imola, where they will await the Pope, who it is believed will leave here on Monday, or at furthest on Tuesday.

The French are reported to be advancing, and are supposed to have reached the territory of Modane; but we do not hear that the Bolognese have taken any further steps than what I stated in my last. Two days ago the people of Castel Bolognese, a place belonging to Bologna, and lying between Faenza and Imola, sent ambassadors to the Pope, and offered to place themselves in his hands. The Pope’s men-at-arms were quartered there on their march to Imola.

I recommend myself to your Lordships.

Servus

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret.

Furli,

9 October, 1506

Nicholas Machiavelli

10 October, 1506

Furli

LETTER XXXI.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I wrote to your Lordships yesterday, and amongst other matters gave you notice of the Pope’s arrival here. This morning a consistory was held, and in presence of the assembled college the draft of a treaty was read which had been prepared by the Bolognese ambassadors, one of the clauses of which stipulated that, in case the Pope should want to come in person to Bologna, he should not be allowed to enter the city accompanied by more than his ordinary guard of infantry, that is to say, from two hundred and fifty to three hundred Swiss; and that he should give notice beforehand of the length of time he intended to remain in the city. There were other similar provisions that were far from being honorable for the Pope, and which excited the indignation of the entire college, who immediately ordered a Bull to be prepared against Messer Giovanni and his adherents, much more stringent than the one which had been passed by the previous consistory at Cesena on the 7th. This new Bull declares Messer Giovanni and his adherents rebels against the Holy Church; all their goods and possessions are given to whoever chooses to take them; the men are abandoned as prisoners to whoever captures them, and plenary indulgence is accorded to whoever injures or kills them.

After this had been concluded and resolved, the Pope sent for a certain Messer Jacopo, secretary of Messer Giovanni Bentivogli, and who had, ever since I have been with the Pope, been constantly at court with the old Bolognese ambassador, and in the presence of the assembled college the Pope told him that his bad conduct during his mission had merited serious punishment; for he had done all in his power to encourage Messer Giovanni and the people of Bologna in their obstinate and refractory conduct towards the Holy Church. And that, were it not that he wanted to be consistent with his character, and did not want to violate the privileges of a public man, he would make him an object of pity to all the world. But to be consistent with his habitual character he would merely order him immediately to quit the states of the Church, and be careful never to fall into his hands again. The secretary asked permission to reply and justify himself, but was not allowed; whereupon he speedily left for Bologna.

After the consistory to-day the Pope wanted to go from the palace of the Priors, where he is lodged, to dine at the castle, and in coming out of his chamber followed by all the cardinals he found the hall full of people, and amongst them the Bolognese ambassadors. He immediately went up to them and blamed them for the tyranny of Messer Giovanni and their own, and for their not being ashamed to have come here to defend it, and said all this with great animosity and bitterness.

At the consistory this morning, the Marquis of Mantua was appointed Lieutenant of the Holy Church in this enterprise against Bologna. Cardinal Este lodged last night at Luco, and will thence come here with a numerous suite to do homage to the Pope. The Duke of Ferrara, according to what I hear from some of his own people, will visit his Holiness at Imola. The impression still prevails that the Pope will leave here on Monday next for Imola; but as he does not wish to pass through Faenza, it is not known whether he will take the road to the right towards the sea, or that to the left towards the hills.

I recommend myself to your Lordships.

Servus

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Furli,

10 October, 1506

Nicholas Machiavelli

12 October, 1506

Furli

LETTER XXXII.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

My letter of the 10th informed your Lordships of what was passing here. This morning after the signing of the documents the Pope had me called to him and said: “I believe that your Signoria, seeing the progress I have made in this enterprise against Messer Giovanni Bentivogli, must wonder that, having so long ago asked them for Messer Marc Antonio and his men-at-arms, which they had offered me in the manner you know, I have not ere this required them to send them to me. Know then, and you may write this to your Signoria, that I have delayed to make the demand because I wished to satisfy ad plenum their desire as made known to me by you on their behalf, and did not want to make the demand until your Signoria should know, and be able to see, the certainty of my  success in this enterprise, and that the assistance which I had counted upon was quite sure. For the French are on the way here, as many as I had asked for and even more, and I have satisfied their demands for money and for everything else. Besides my own four hundred men-at-arms I have those of Gianpaolo to the extent of one hundred and fifty men-at-arms, and the one hundred Stradiotes which I told you I was expecting from the kingdom of Naples, and which you must have seen. The Marquis of Mantua has joined me with one hundred light-horse, and has given orders for one hundred more. You will see the Duke of Ferrara join me at Imola with more than one hundred men-at-arms, and all his other troops are likewise at my command. I have paid the money for the infantry that is coming with the French, and for that which has been raised here for my account; and finally, so that every one may know that I will make no terms with Messer Giovanni, I have, as it were, published a crusade against him. Now if your Signoria do not wish to be the last, as they have promised me, they will have to hasten their troops forward; and for that reason I desire you to send at once an express to signify to them on my behalf my wish that they will be pleased to send the Signor Marc Antonio Colonna toward Imola with the one hundred men-at-arms which he commands. And say to your Signoria, that, although they can themselves see that I am able to do without those troops, yet I desire them, not for the value of their services nor for the honor which it would be for me, but for the sake of having just grounds for benefiting your Signoria, and to favor them in whatever they may desire most, when the occasion shall occur, which will always be so long as the Church shall enjoy that high reputation and credit to which I hope to elevate her.”

I replied to his Holiness, that I would immediately communicate his wishes to your Lordships; and when he asked me how long it would take these troops to reach Imola, I said that my messenger could not reach Florence in less than two days, that it would require two days more to transmit the orders to Cascina, and that then the troops would need at least seven days to march from Cascina to Imola. This seemed to him too long, and he solicited me again to write at once and to let him know immediately when I received a reply.

Cardinal Este arrived here yesterday evening, and the Duke  is momentarily expected at Imola, as the Pope had told me. The Marquis is marching with all the troops towards Imola, and the Pope will start in that direction to-morrow or the day following. Yesterday a brief was expedited from the consistory in virtue of which the Pope concedes to the king of France the right to dispose of all the benefices of the duchy of Milan, the same as the Count Francesco had enjoyed; this is the last request which the king of France has made of the Pope in connection with this affair. It is said that the Bolognese have abandoned Castel San Piero, but purpose defending the two smaller castles nearer to the city.

Since Messer Jacopo, the Chancellor of Messer Giovanni, has been dismissed by the Pope in full consistory, as I have already written, the ambassadors have notified his Holiness that they have been recalled, and asked for leave to go; to which the Holy Father replied, that he neither gave nor withheld that leave to them, but that he advised them to be careful not to go to Bologna, as they would be cut to pieces there because of the sad accounts which Messer Jacopo, the Chancellor of Messer Giovanni, had given of them. The ambassadors understood this to mean that they are not to leave, and so they have remained; and the Pope has commissioned Bishop Pazzi, who is governor of this place, to watch them carefully and not to let them go.

I recommend myself to your Lordships.

Servus

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret.

Furli,

12 October, 1506

Nicholas Machiavelli

13 October, 1506

Furli

LETTER XXXIII.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I wrote to your Lordships yesterday, and informed you of all that the Pope had charged me to say to you in relation to the men-at-arms which he desires your Lordships to send him, according to his first demand. Having disposed of all other business, he now wants to bring yours forward. Since then I have received your Lordships’ letter of the 11th, but must inform you that I have not received the package of letters for  France, which you tell me you have sent; I am not able, therefore, either to forward them to France, or return them to your Lordships, as you charge me to do. Your Lordships furthermore desire to know whereabouts the French troops are at present, as you have no news of them. It is said here that more than two thirds of them are at Parma, and that the remainder are coming with Chaumont, who was waiting to start until he should have received the brief of which I made mention in my last letter to your Lordships.

Yesterday evening news came here from the army that the Marquis had taken Castel San Piero and disarmed fifty light-horse of Messer Giovanni. We can hear nothing of what is going on in Bologna, as we get no more news from there since the opening of hostilities. At first it was said that Messer Giovanni was lukewarm in his preparations, and did not spend what was necessary to defend himself against an attack of this nature. The Pope did not leave here this morning, as he had intended, owing to a touch of gout in one of his knees, which kept him in bed all the forenoon; but this is an old trouble, and not at all dangerous. They say that there will be a consistory held to-morrow morning, and that his Holiness will remain here to-morrow on account of the party feuds here, after which he will go to Imola.

I recommend myself to your Lordships.

Servus

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Furli,

13 October, 1506

Nicholas Machiavelli

14 October, 1506

Furli

LETTER XXXIV.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I wrote to your Lordships yesterday, giving an account of the events of the day. This morning a consistory was held at which the Pope communicated to the Cardinals that Castel San Piero and Castel Guelfo had been taken, and forty of the enemy’s light-horse disarmed and stripped. He stated that, although Messer Giovanni had made demonstrations of intending to maintain himself in this direction in Butriano, and in the opposite direction in Castel Franco, yet he believed that  so soon as his troops should show themselves before these places neither the one nor the other would make any serious resistance. The Pope furthermore stated that he had received a verbal message, through a man who had come from Bologna, that Messer Giovanni had disbanded all his foreign infantry, and was resolved to defend himself exclusively with his own people. This seems difficult to believe, as we do not know what reason he could have for this; and perhaps it is not true. As to the departure of the Pope from here, he says that he will remain here to-day and to-morrow, and that then he will take counsel upon the question; so that it is believed that he will not go from here unless he hears that the French are nearer to Bologna, and upon this point nothing is known but what I have already written you.

I recommend myself to your Lordships.

Furli,

14 October, 1506

Whilst writing I receive your Lordships’ letter of the 12th, and with it the package for France, which I will make it a point to forward or return to you.

Servus

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret.

P. S. — I have heard to-night that letters have been received from Monseigneur d’Aix, dated 11th instant, in which he informs the Pope that Chaumont is willing to send five hundred lances to Parma, with orders not to leave there without fresh instructions. I have not yet verified this report, but shall endeavor in my next to give you further particulars.

Nicholas Machiavelli

16 October, 1506

Castrocaro

LETTER XXXV.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

After a long consultation as to what route he should take to go from Furli to Imola without laying himself under obligations to the Venetians, and seeing that by going to the right towards the sea he would be shut in between the rivers and Faenza, and if he went to the left towards the mountains he  would be wedged in between Berzighella and Faenza, either of which routes seemed to him insecure, his Holiness the Pope has decided to take neither of these two, but to go more towards the mountains, and keep altogether upon Florentine territory. Thus he would dine to-morrow at Castrocaro, and pass the night at Modigliana, the next day through Marradi and Palazzuolo, the day following to Tosignano, a castle belonging to the Church, and then the next day to Imola.

Just as this decision had been taken I received your Lordships’ letters of the 14th, informing me of the order given to Signor Marc Antonio to march. I hastened to read the letter to the Pope, who, so soon as he had heard it, called in the most joyful manner the Datary and Messer Carlo degli Ingrati, saying: “I want you to hear now what friends Messer Giovanni has, and which of us is most beloved by his neighbors, the Holy Church or he.” In addition to these two he called all who were near and who were still at table, and wanted them also to hear the letter; and then he spoke in the most honorable and affectionate manner of your Lordships. Thereupon I said to his Holiness, that, as he had decided to take the route through the Florentine dominions, I would immediately mount and see to making such preparations for his reception as were possible in the poor places where he would have to stop, and where suitable accommodations were very scarce; and that he must look upon it as though he were in camp, or in even worse places. I expressed my regret that this matter had not been known some five or six days sooner, so that your Lordships could have taken proper measures to do him honor, but that he would not lack evidences of the most affectionate devotion, which all the places within your Lordships’ dominions would show him; for they all knew that such was your Lordships’ will and pleasure. His Holiness replied that he had no apprehensions whatever upon that score, and that he would in any event be entirely satisfied; and thereupon I took my leave. It is now the twentieth hour, and I am here in Castrocaro, and shall be to-morrow evening at Modigliana, ut parem viam Domino.

I recommend myself to your Lordships.

Servus

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret. apud Papam.

Castrocaro,

16 October, 1506

Nicholas Machiavelli

19 October, 1506

Palazzuolo

LETTER XXXVI.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

Since informing your Lordships of the Pope’s determination to go to Imola through your Lordships’ dominions, he has followed the precise route which I had indicated. To-day is the 19th of the month, and at the fifteenth hour we arrived here at Palazzuolo, where we shall dine and go on this evening to Tosignano, a place belonging to the Church. Yesterday at Marradi your messenger arrived from Mugello with six barrels of wine in casks and two in bottles, and a load of pears; he presented them to the Pope in a very proper manner, suitable to the nature of the present. His Holiness accepted it all very graciously, and expressed his thanks.

This morning Pier Francesco Tosinghi, Commissary-General, concluded not to accompany the Pope any farther, and accordingly took his leave of his Holiness. I cannot tell your Lordships with how much kindness the Pope spoke to him, and with what demonstrations of affection for your Lordships, and how he held him in his embrace for half an hour in presence of the whole court. I shall not report to your Lordships the particular words of his Holiness, for I am sure Pier Francesco will have written it all to you at length.

Everybody here is of the opinion that, if the Pope succeeds in his attempt upon Bologna, he will lose no time in engaging in more important enterprises, and it is thought that now or never will Italy be relieved of those who have plotted to devour her.

Servus

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret.

Palazzuolo,

19 October, 1506

Nicholas Machiavelli

21 October, 1506

Imola

LETTER XXXVII.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

My last to your Lordships was from Palazzuolo. Yesterday the Pope arrived here, and, as already mentioned in a previous letter, he was entirely satisfied with his journey across your  Lordships’ dominions; in truth, I had sent everywhere ample supplies of bread and wine and meats of every description, as well as forage for the horses. Upon his arrival here there came to him a person just from the French camp, who reported that they must by this time be at Modena; and that the force consisted of eight hundred and ten lances, five thousand infantry, two thousand Swiss, and the rest are Gascons and other detached troops. It is said that Messer Giovanni has asked for terms through the intervention of Chaumont, and that the Marquis of Mantua favors it; the latter came this morning from the camp, and was for a considerable space of time in private conference with the Pope. When his Holiness afterwards came out of his chamber, he said to about twenty cardinals who were waiting for him, that Messer Giovanni had proposed an arrangement with much more reasonable conditions than what he had offered at Furli; that, however, the only terms upon which he would treat with him were, either that he should leave Bologna with his movables, and that his immovables should be preserved for him, or that he should come and place himself unconditionally in his hands, and that he would not treat with him upon any other terms.

Those with whom I have talked upon these matters believe that, whenever Messer Giovanni shall come to despair of being able to defend himself by force, he will throw himself with his children into the arms of the Pope, under the guaranty of Chaumont or some other great personage, hoping that, after the example of Gianpaolo Baglioni, he may be able personally to effect some arrangement that would permit him to remain in Bologna, and thus not lose the chance of resuming at the first opportunity his original position.

Whilst at the palace this morning and conversing with the Bolognese ambassadors, who are still here, they complained with moderation of your Lordships having sent troops here; to which I answered, laughingly as it were, that Messer Giovanni and your other neighbors had taught you, at your own expense, to follow the general; and that therefore it was not of your conduct that they ought to complain, but of that which you had learned from them.

This morning, when Bernardo da Bibbieno asked Messer Carlo Ingrati how matters were going on, the latter replied, “Very well, in spite of those who wish the contrary.” Whereupon  Bernardo said, “Am I one of those that wish that matters should not go on well?” To which Messer Carlo, with an embarrassed expression of countenance, replied, “I know nothing about it”; and then turned his back upon him.

I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Servus

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret.

Imola,

21 October, 1506

Nicholas Machiavelli

22 October, 1506

Imola

LETTER XXXVIII.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

Yesterday I reported to your Lordships the events of the day. This morning we learn that the French will be in the course of to-morrow in the neighborhood of Castel Franco, on Bolognese territory; and to-morrow also Monseigneur d’Allegri is expected here, who comes to confer with his Holiness and the commanders of the Italian troops as to the manner in which this enterprise is to be carried on. In speaking this morning of the coming of Monseigneur d’Allegri, his Holiness manifested a desire that on his arrival there should also be an ambassador here from your Lordships; for as matters relating to the welfare of Italy are to be discussed, his Holiness wishes that Florence should be represented on the occasion. It would be well, therefore, if Messer Francesco* were to start from Florence to-day, as has been spoken of.

The troops of the Pope here scoured the country yesterday almost up to the very walls of Bologna, and captured some cattle. They came, however, very near being surprised by some of the Bolognese cavalry, who issued from the city to pursue them, but did not come far enough to overtake the Pope’s troops. It is said that Messer Giovanni has sacked several monasteries which had commenced to obey the bull of excommunication.

The quarters for the Duke of Ferrara are ready, and a quantity of his baggage has arrived, and it is said that he will be here himself very shortly. The Venetian ambassador, who has followed the court as far as Cesena, has stopped there, and has not yet been seen either here or at Furli.

I recommend myself to your Lordships.

Servus

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret.

Imola,

22 October, 1506

Nicholas Machiavelli

25 October, 1506

Imola

LETTER XXXIX.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

My last to your Lordships was of the 22d; by the present I have to inform you that a courier named Quattrino arrived to-night from Lombardy, and reports the advance guard of the French to have left Modena, and that the remainder of the army under Monseigneur de Chaumont is at Parma. It is supposed that in the course of the week upon which we have just entered they will be in the vicinity of Bologna.

This evening the Pope’s troops captured a Bolognese by the name of Carlo di Bianchi, son of one of the Magistracy of the Ten. This individual was going with despatches to certain small castles that have remained in the hands of the Bolognese. Your Lordships must know that the Italian troops in the service of the Pope are stationed at Castel San Piero and the neighboring villas, and that all these places surrendered as soon as the troops showed themselves before them. A very reliable person reported to me to-day that he had talked with a priest who had left Bologna two days before, and who had told him that Messer Giovanni had published the bull of excommunication, and has since then notified all the religious orders that they may either remain in Bologna or go away, as they please, and that many of them are going. This priest also reported that Messer Giovanni is throwing up bastions and earthworks, and is otherwise strengthening the weak points; and that he has ordered three thousand infantry to be levied, and that Tarlatino, Riniero della Sassetto, and Messer Piero Gambacorte were expected in Bologna. I give this information to your Lordships, not as well authenticated facts, but as things that are reported, and which may be true.

Monseigneur d’Allegri has not yet arrived, but is looked for to-morrow, as also the Duke of Ferrara. Recent letters from Venice state that, so soon as the news of the death of the Archduke became known in the Emperor’s camp, his whole army disbanded, and that thus all his projects have ended in smoke.

Benedetto Pepi wrote me yesterday from Pietramala, under date of the 23d, that Signor Marc Antonio would be on the following day with his troops at Pian Caldoli, and wished me to let him know what was to be done. I communicated the  information immediately to the Pope, who at once sent a commissary and one of his mace-bearers to Pian Caldoli to receive and conduct him to the camp of the other troops, where he ought to be this evening.

Messer Francesco Pepi writes me that he will be here to-morrow, and requests me to find lodgings for him, which has been very difficult; still, with the authority of the Pope and by putting others to inconvenience, I have succeeded in finding such as are convenient and reasonable; but it is now Sunday, and I have not yet heard further from him. I mention this to your Lordships, so that, in case he should not yet have left, you may urge him to hasten his departure, as an ambassador from Florence is greatly desired here, for the reasons which I have stated in a former letter to your Lordships.

I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret. apud Papam.

Imola,

25 October, 1506

Nicholas Machiavelli

26 October, 1506

Imola

LETTER XL.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

After having written the enclosed to your Lordships yesterday, the courier of his Magnificence the Ambassador arrived, and notified me that he would be this evening at Tosignano, and that, the locality serving as an excuse, he would wish all ceremonies and formalities on his arrival to be dispensed with, for being indisposed he desired to avoid that fatigue; and he requested me to inform him of what I had done in the matter.

I called at once upon his Eminence of Pavia, and informed him of the near arrival of our ambassador; his Eminence immediately sent for the master of ceremonies to arrange that all the cardinals with their suites and the other prelates should go out to meet the Ambassador according to custom. Whereupon I told his Eminence that, as the Ambassador was indisposed, he wished to avoid the fatigue of a ceremonious reception, provided the locality would excuse it. This request was promptly conceded, to the satisfaction of everybody, for the cardinals have but scanty retinues, and matters are done  here in military fashion and not with all the formalities of Rome. His Magnificence the Ambassador has arrived here this morning, and his Holiness has appointed an audience for him for to-morrow at the fifteenth hour.

The news here is that the government of Bologna have written a letter to their ambassadors here, under date of yesterday, enclosing a copy of the summons which Monseigneur de Chaumont has addressed in the name of the king to that city; by which he informs them that if within two days they have not returned to their obedience to his Holiness, and submitted to all his commands, he will hold them as enemies, and will consider himself absolved from all obligations of protection under which he was to the state and person of Messer Giovanni and the city of Bologna. The government charge their ambassadors to throw themselves at the feet of his Holiness, and to recommend to him their city, and to inform him that they are ready to obey all his commands; and that they entreat him to spare the person and effects of Messer Giovanni and of his children. To which the Pope has replied that he has nothing to say to them except that they obey his Bull, to which sentence he adheres. We learn also, from a courier sent here express, that the French will be here to-day before Castel Franco.

His Magnificence the Ambassador, as I have said above, will have an audience of the Pope to-morrow, and will report to your Lordships from day to day the progress of events here; and, God willing, I shall, with the gracious permission of your Lordships, return to-morrow or next day to Florence.

I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Servus

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret. apud Papam.

Imola,

26 October, 1506

THIRD MISSION TO SIENNA.*

Nicholas Machiavelli

10 August, 1507

Sienna

LETTER I.

Magnificent and Illustrious Signori, etc. —

I arrived here this evening, and in trying to find out the whereabouts of the Legate, I learn from different sources that his Lordship will be this evening at Acquapendente, and will go to-morrow to Paglia; the day after he may go to Buonconvento, and if he follows this itinerary he will be here on Friday; but how long he may remain here is not known. Whether he will remain over Sunday to see the festivities here, or whether he will leave before, I shall have to find out after his arrival, when your Lordships shall be promptly informed. Now as to his retinue, and the honors which it is intended to show him here, I have talked with the landlords and others of that class with whom persons under similar circumstances are wont to lodge, and they report that the municipality has deputed six persons to receive and do honor to the Legate, and that the following arrangements have been made. The Legate himself, with forty or fifty of his more immediate suite, will be lodged either in the house of Pandolfo  or in the episcopal palace, and their expenses honorably paid. The remainder of the retinue, with their horses, will lodge at the hostelries, and the landlords have already been notified to make the necessary provisions. It is not known yet whether the municipality will pay their expenses also, or whether they will be left to pay for themselves, as nothing has been said upon that point to the landlords; but seeing the importance they attach to this Legate, and their desire that he should also protect their interests in Germany, makes these landlords believe that the municipality will pay all. But they know nothing positive about it, nor do they know what is done in this respect in other parts of the dominion, and therefore I can write nothing about it. But I shall be in the same place with the Legate to-morrow, and when I shall have obtained full information upon all these points, I will send you an express. Neither am I able to inform you as to the number of mounted men in the Legate’s retinue, for some say that it is not over one hundred, whilst others put it at two hundred; but the most trustworthy adhere to the smaller number. In short, as I have said above, within forty hours your Lordships shall know exactly the number, the manner in which they will be treated here, and the time when they will arrive on your territory. I shall not ask the Legate’s master of the household for a list of his retinue, for I would not like to incur your Lordships’ displeasure, if you should find yourselves embarrassed by their being in reality more than what the list might have indicated, and therefore I leave this question entirely to your Lordships.

There was a very excited meeting of the Balia here to-day owing to the news from Lusignano, that that borough had determined to keep its gates closed from fear of the men of Val di Chiana. From what I hear, the people of this city will make a great holiday of the Emperor’s arrival, which is desired by all. I mention this to your Lordships, as in matters of this kind the will of the people generally differs from that of its chiefs. Valete!

Servus

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret.

Sienna,

10 August, 1507

Nicholas Machiavelli

12 August, 1507

Sienna

LETTER II.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

Immediately on my arrival here at Sienna, on the day before yesterday, I wrote to your Lordships all I had learned respecting the Legate, and how they had decided here to do him honor. Hoping that my letter reached you safely, I shall not repeat what I then wrote. As mentioned to your Lordships, the Legate lodged last night at Paglia, but instead of going there I went to San Quirico, thinking that I should see the Legate’s retinue better when they arrive in the evening than when they start in the morning. I passed the night at San Quirico, where the Cardinal’s retinue would have to pass if they were to go to Buonconvento according to the original intention, or in case they were to stop here. But the Cardinal had changed the order of things, going himself with a portion of his suite from Paglia to Pienza, where he was entertained by the Piccolomini, and sending the remainder on to San Quirico. As I wished to know exactly the number of cavaliers which the Legate has with him, and seeing this division arrive here, I sent my courier at daybreak to Pienza to count the number of cavaliers that had gone with the Legate, whilst I remained at San Quirico to count the rest. In fine, my courier returned and reported thirty-nine horse, and that he had remained there ten hours after the arrival of the Cardinal and suite. At San Quirico there arrived fifty-seven, and some ten had passed on towards Sienna, so that putting them all together there may be in all one hundred and ten cavaliers in his suite. I remained at San Quirico until the twenty-second hour to make sure that all had passed, and unless others should have come from Rome, he has no more than the above-stated number of one hundred and ten; although his chamberlains and master of the household say that he has one hundred and fifty, which they do, thinking the greater number more honorable. Besides the above-mentioned number of horse, there are thirty-two sumpter mules which I have counted myself, although the Cardinal’s own people say there are forty; but so far from there being so many, the number is rather less, as I have said. He has about fifty grooms and valets, and as to his courtiers, the most of them look as if they had just come  from the Stinche prisons.* These are all the facts I have been able to learn about the Cardinal’s domestic establishment; and believing that I have fulfilled my mission in this respect, I took the post at the twenty-second hour, and came from San Quirico here to Sienna, so as to be able to inform your Lordships of the honors shown to the Cardinal, and of the time when he will leave here.

Finding himself still twenty-three miles from here, the Cardinal will not come to-morrow to Sienna, but defers his entry here until Saturday. The authorities have ordered him to be received with all the ceremony due to a Legate. He will be lodged at the episcopal palace, and all his gentlemen, to the number of about fifty, will be distributed amongst the citizens in such manner as the six deputies may deem best; whilst the whole crowd of menials will go to the hostelries, where their expenses will be paid; although nothing has as yet been said to the landlords upon this point, showing either that but a few will go to the hostelries, or that it will only be persons of low quality. Throughout the entire dominion the Cardinal has paid all expenses, except at Pienza, where he was the guest of the Piccolomini; but he paid the expenses of all who went to Paglia and San Quirico, and will do the same to-morrow, unless he should go with a select few to some private place, of which I am not aware. I shall remain all Sunday here at Sienna to witness their holiday-making. On Monday, or at the latest on Tuesday, the Cardinal goes to Poggibonsi; and if I knew exactly when he leaves here I should have returned and made my report to your Lordships in person; but as I have not been able to find out, I shall remain here until I can give you positive information on that point. And should anything else occur to your Lordships to charge me with, you can still do so. I can only report what I have already said, namely, that at the earliest on Monday, and at latest on Tuesday, the Cardinal will be at Poggibonsi.

I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Sienna,

12 August, 1507

I have deferred sending off my express this morning, this being the 13th, to see whether I could forward it without expense; but unable to do so, I have now determined to send him. He will leave at the eleventh hour, and promises to be in Florence at the seventeenth hour.

Servus

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret.

Nicholas Machiavelli

14 August, 1507

Sienna

LETTER III.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I wrote to your Lordships on the 12th, and sent it yesterday morning in haste by an express. In that letter I informed you that the Legate would make his entry here to-day, and that throughout the Siennese dominions he had paid his own expenses, and that his retinue consisted of one hundred and ten cavaliers or less, and between thirty and forty sumpter mules, and about forty persons on foot; that he personally would lodge in the episcopal palace with forty or fifty of his cavaliers, and that the remainder would be accommodated in the different hostelries, and their expenses paid by the municipality; and that so far as I could learn he would leave here on Monday or Tuesday. Since then the Legate has arrived, and is lodged as I had written you; instead of paying his expenses, however, they have presented to him in the name of the Signoria all sorts of eatables, as is customary with ambassadors, but in such profusion that it is said they have cost more than one hundred ducats. Beyond this, however, they do not trouble themselves about them, but let them shift for themselves. The said Legate will leave here on Monday morning, and will go to Poggibonsi; on Tuesday he will proceed to San Casciano, and according to what he says himself he expects to reach Florence on Wednesday. Having heard from several persons that the Legate said this at table, I have no reason to doubt it; and as it seems to me now that I have nothing further to do here, I shall leave to-morrow morning, and shall come leisurely but direct to Florence. Should your Lordships think of any other commission to charge me with on the way, you can let me know.

Whilst here, and amongst these Spaniards, I have learned something which I think it would be well your Lordships should know also. It is this. About one month ago two letters were received here from the Emperor of Germany, both to the same effect; namely, one to the Balia, and the other to Pandolfo, informing them of his coming into Italy, and expressing his confidence in the good faith of this city, and advising them to make no further payments to France under their agreement, showing them that, having been made against him, it is no longer valid. The letter to Pandolfo contains, besides the above, many particulars for his instruction, which he has shown to the Balia and others, and of which he is very proud.

I understand that the proposed coming of the Emperor does not please him at all, like one who is well off and sees no advantage in further labors; and speaking the other day with a friend he said to him, “If this Emperor comes, it will benefit no one but the Pisans.” But Pandolfo does not believe in the Emperor’s coming, and relies upon the Swiss and the Venetians, who he thinks will not adhere firmly to him. Nevertheless he goes on making preparations: first, by making every one here believe that the Emperor is his particular friend, so as to deprive the malcontents of the hope of support; and secondly, by doing all he can really to make him so, although up to yesterday morning he had not received any letter from his envoy to the Emperor. I say this because I am told this morning that he received such letters last night, and if I can learn anything of their contents I will inform your Lordships.

In conversing with some of the Legate’s people, and with some persons of intelligence, I learn that the object of his mission is to do all in his power to prevent the Emperor’s coming; and by way of removing the necessity of his coming to Italy to be crowned, the Legate is authorized, jointly with another German cardinal whose name has escaped me, to crown the Emperor at home. But if he sees that the Emperor is resolved anyhow to come down into Italy, then he is to persuade him to come unaccompanied by any armed force; assuring him of the friendship of France, and all the guaranties of security he can ask for. And if all this does not produce the desired effect, and he sees that the Emperor is bent upon coming with an armed force, then he is carefully to find out the Emperor’s resources, and whether they are sufficient to overcome  all the obstacles he may encounter, and to report the same; and in such case he is to amuse the Emperor with assurances of the high opinion which his Holiness the Pope entertains of his Majesty.

I mention these things to your Lordships, not as being true, but simply as having heard them from men of serious character; and mainly because I know that it will do no harm that you should know these things, as I said in the beginning.

Whilst writing, the brother of the Cardinal Ceserino arrived at this hostelry, with fifteen horse; he is on his way from Rome to Bologna on some business, and will remain here to-morrow, and then go on to Florence with the Legate. It is thus that the stream is constantly swelling.

I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Servus

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret.

Sienna,

14 August, 1507, 21st hour

.

List of Presents sent by the Siennese to the Legate.

2

skinned and dressed calves.

6

skinned and dressed sheep.

13

sacks of grain, 4 bushels per sack.

9

baskets of bread.

2

barrels of mulberries.

2

barrels of melons.

12

barrels of wine, of 12 flasks each.

9

barrels of fowls, 6 pairs each.

4

barrels of young geese, 6 pairs each.

3

baskets of large pigeons, 5 pairs each.

14

dishes of seafish.

12

pairs of white wax torches.

12

lumps of wax, 5 pounds each.

16

boxes?

24

marchpanes (fruit-cakes).

MISSION TO THE EMPEROR OF GERMANY.*

Nicholas Machiavelli

25 December, 1507

Maximilian I. Guelders

LETTER I.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I wrote to your Lordships from Gabella on the 22d instant, and to-day, being the 25th, I am at Geneva, and shall leave to-morrow for Constanz, which is seven days’ journey from here, according to what I am told by Piero da Fossan, who is engaged here in commerce with Florence, and has advised me as to the route, which I shall follow, and recommend myself to your Lordships.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli.

25 December, 1507

Nicholas Machiavelli

17 January, 1508

Botzen

Maximilian I. Guelders

LETTER II.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I arrived here on the 11th, having been retarded since my departure from Florence by the great distances, the bad condition of the roads, and the horrible season of the year; and having moreover to contend with worn-out horses, and being very short of money. With all this I could not, even at any  other season of the year, have saved more than three days in the journey here from Gabella, where I left the diligence, to this place, a distance of over six hundred miles. I wrote from Gabella and from Geneva to inform you of my whereabouts, which letters, if received, will have saved your Lordships all anxiety on my account.

On my arrival here I found Francesco Vettori enjoying the favor and highest esteem of the whole court. I communicated to him your Lordships’ instructions, and, as you have been already informed of all that has taken place here since my arrival, I shall say nothing further on that subject, but confine myself entirely to such matters as Vettori has not written about; and by this despatch will inform you merely of what I have seen and heard during my journey from Geneva here that may be worthy of your Lordships’ notice, so that you may be able to form a more correct judgment of the state of things here. And to begin with what I have heard, I beg to say that I made four halts on Swiss territory between Geneva and Constanz, and have gathered with greatest care all I could respecting the condition and manners of these people, and upon the point as to what either of the sovereigns of France or Germany might hope for from them. I have learned from various persons, but mainly from a gentleman at Fribourg, a very accurate man, who has commanded one of their companies, and is also familiar with Italian affairs, that the main body of this country consists of twelve communities leagued together, and called Cantons, the names of which are Fribourg, Berne, Zurich, Lucerne, Basle, Soleure, Uri, Unterwalden, Zug, Glarus, Schwytz, and Schaffhausen. These are united in such manner that whatever is resolved upon in their Diet is always observed by all of them, and none of the Cantons will oppose it. It is an error, therefore, on the part of those who say that four of the Cantons will go with France, and eight with the Emperor, as this cannot be unless it had been first resolved upon by their  Diet; but were it so decided by the Diet, then the one would be served badly, and the other worse. But what has given rise to this supposition is, that the king of France has for the past eight months kept two agents here, and still keeps two of his confidential men here, Rochalbert and Pierre Louis, and, for the purpose of receiving prompt reports from them, has established a regular mail service from Gabella, or whatever other place his representatives may go to. These men have of late endeavored to unite all the Cantons, and by means of money have both privately and publicly poisoned the whole country. In this way they have prevented and still impede all action of the Diet in favor of the Emperor, so that up to the time of my passing numerous meetings of the Diet have been held, but no resolutions passed. True, there was to have been another Diet held on the day of the Epiphany at Lucerne, where the two French emissaries have gone; but it is not known yet what this Diet may have brought forth. The person at Fribourg, however, whom I have already referred to, told me that the king of France had too much money for the Diet to resolve anything adverse to him; but when the King of the Romans also had money, they would not be able to refuse to serve him, but in that case they would manage to serve him without at the same time being hostile to France. And thus everybody is of the opinion that, when the Emperor is not lacking money, he will also not lack Swiss to serve him; for they fear that, if he paid them without getting their services in return, they would draw upon themselves the hostility of the Empire, and they do not wish to oppose the decision of all Germany; that is the reason why they do not openly declare for France. But the objections they make to the wishes of the Emperor are, that they do not want to be opposed to France, but will serve him everywhere else. The Emperor, on the other hand, demands that they shall either remain neutral, or furnish him a small number of men, of whom he shall be able to dispose as he pleases. The Swiss, however, will not remain neutral, and want to be employed in large numbers, and yet they do not want to fight against France unless the king should give them special cause. These are the difficulties that have been the cause of so many meetings of the Diet and such few conclusions; and it is supposed that the present, like all the previous ones, will bring forth nothing but useless talk.

Besides the above-named twelve Cantons there are two other Swiss communities; viz. the league of the Grisons and that of the Valdenses, both bordering on Italy; and a few days before my passing through Fribourg an ambassador from the Emperor had gone through on his way to the Valdenses to dispose them adversely to France and favorably to himself. These two communities, however, are not so united to the other twelve Cantons but what they can take separate action in opposition to the others; it being, however, fully understood between them that for the defence of their liberties they are always to be well united. Thus, whoever fails to secure the services of the one league may yet secure those of the other. For the common defence each of the twelve Cantons furnishes four thousand good troops; but for any service out of the country they are bound to supply only from one thousand to fifteen hundred. This difference arises from the fact, that for the defence of the country every man who votes for the magistrates is bound to render military service, whilst in the other case the service is purely voluntary; thus, in the one case they are bound by law, and in the other case they are attracted only by the pay. At Schaffhausen I met two gentlemen from Genoa, who were returning to Italy by the same route that I had just come over, and when I asked them about the Emperor and his projected visit to Italy, they said to me, “By this time the Emperor has left Augsburg for Italy, but we don’t believe you will find him until you reach Trent.” They told me further, that the different provinces of the Empire furnished him, besides the troops, a sum of one hundred and fifty thousand scudi; and that he had made a loan of the Fuggers of one hundred thousand scudi, for which he has assigned them some sort of security; and that he was about making an agreement with the Swiss, according to which they were to serve him, but not against France. Since then I tarried half a day at Constanz to gather information; and at church there I conversed with two Milanese, and with Arrigo the composer, whose wife is at Florence. I also talked with an ambassador of the Duke of Savoy, called Monsignore Disviri, to whom I paid a long visit, and afterwards dined with him. From the former I obtained only general information and much exaggerated; but Monsignore Disviri, when I pressed him with questions about the Emperor’s project and the steps which he had taken, etc., said  to me in a formal manner: “You want to know in two hours what I have not been able to learn in many months; and the reason is, that one must either know the conclusions resolved upon, or judge of the result by the preparations. The first is very difficult, because this nation is very discreet, and the Emperor observes the greatest secrecy in everything he does; if he but changes his lodgings, he sends his cook only after he has himself been for an hour on the way, so that no one may know where he is going. As for his preparations, they seem very formidable: troops come from various quarters, and are scattered over a great extent of country; but to know the exact truth, one must have a spy in every place. For my part, desirous to err as little as possible, I can only tell you that the Emperor will establish three gathering-places, one at Trent towards Verona, another at Besançon in the direction of Burgundy, and the third at Carabassa in the Friuli. A great many troops were also collected here at Constanz by order of the Diet, and have been promptly distributed through the neighborhood. I assure you the movement is most extensive, and likely to lead to some important result, either of peace or war, between the two sovereigns.”

This is what I heard at Constanz from a man who is sixty years of age, and generally esteemed as a prudent man. I have learned nothing further since my arrival here, unless it be that at Trent and thereabouts there must be some four thousand infantry and a thousand horse fit for service. As to money, I do not hear of the Emperor’s having more than the hundred and twenty thousand scudi promised by the Empire in addition to the troops granted by the Diet at Constanz; and to this must be added the amounts paid by those who are bound to furnish him troops, but who have compounded for it by paying him money; and it is said that where the Empire is bound to furnish three men, they actually send only two, and pay for the third in money. As to the loan which the Emperor has made of the Fuggers, as well as other loans from merchants on pledges of land, neither the amounts nor the conditions are clearly known; nor is anything known as to the sums which he claims from Italy. But the Venetians expect to gain great credit by their show of extensive preparations, and have circulated reports of having to furnish altogether about fifteen thousand mounted men.  Since his visit here, this sovereign has summoned a diet of all the communes of Tyrol, and has demanded their aid in his enterprise. I understand that they have resolved to furnish him five hundred infantry, which are to be paid by them for a certain length of time; and if this resolution is carried out, then these troops may be regarded as though they were already at Trent. News came here on Saturday that a contingent of one thousand horse from the king of Bohemia, and paid by him, is within five days’ march from here. With all this, time passes, and where on the one hand there is a gain, there is a loss on the other; for although the fine season is coming, yet the money destined for the troops, and which according to the Diet the Empire is to pay, is being uselessly consumed. This is all I have heard; but what I have seen is, that from Geneva to Memmingen, throughout the many miles I have traversed, I have not seen a single mounted man or foot-soldier. True, in the neighborhood of Constanz, in some of the places off the road I heard some drumming, and was told by some that it came from some remnants of infantry that had stopped there, but others said that it was peasants merrymaking. At Memmingen I found the troops of the Duke of Würtemberg were beginning to arrive; they were said to consist of four hundred horse. It was reported that the Duke wanted his troops to stop here whilst he went to court to learn from the Emperor where he wished him to go. After that I met on the way from Innspruck here all together about one hundred horse belonging to men-at-arms. Last Friday there was a review here of one hundred and twenty infantry, being the contingent sent here by some of the communes. The Emperor is here, but it is not known when he will leave. It is said that he has not been so near to Italy as now since Cardinal d’Amboise was here; and it is supposed that he will soon go to Trent to look after his enterprise.

This is all that occurs to me to write, unless it be to recommend myself to your Lordships, and beg you will instruct me what to do now; for having made known your views and intentions to Francesco Vettori, there remains nothing for me to do, and therefore I hope your Lordships will give me leave to return home. Valete!

Botzen,

17 January, 1508

Should your Lordships, for some reason or other, desire me to stay here, — which I hardly believe, however, — then I beg you will either send me some money, or write to Francesco to supply me with some on your Lordships’ account, although Francesco has never refused me anything, but this was always on my own account.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret.

Francesco de Vettori

17 January, 1508

Botzen

Maximilian I. Guelders

LETTER III.*

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

My last of the 16th ultimo was sent by my courier Simone from Memmingen; since then I have made in one stretch about five hundred miles, sometimes in the suite of the Emperor and sometimes in that of the Cardinal, so that on the 9th I reached Botzen, where the Emperor had already arrived; and two days after Machiavelli also came, who had travelled by way of Savoy and Switzerland, and who, fearing that he might not be safe in Lombardy, where he had been subjected to a very harsh examination, had destroyed all his letters. But he gave me your instructions verbally, which were to this effect: that you were willing to offer to the king† as high a sum as fifty thousand ducats, beginning with thirty thousand and going finally up to fifty thousand, — endeavoring to make the best terms possible for our republic. Payment to be made in at least three instalments: the first, when the Emperor shall be with his army in a city that is entirely Italian; the second, upon his entering on Tuscan territory; and the third, in three months after, or, better still, on his arrival at Rome, as can best be arranged. In return, you demand of the Emperor the restitution of all your possessions, and the conservation of all your present state and dominion; but if restitution cannot be made, you will yield that point. But you desire to have the  Emperor understand that you regard fifty thousand ducats as no small matter, and will not abate one tittle of the other matters. On the contrary, you want that in the drawing up of the treaty it shall be stated in the most ample manner, in words and terms, that you shall be secure against having to pay anything more than the stipulated amount, either to his Majesty directly or indirectly, or to any of his princes or generals, or any one else for his account; and that you are not to be vexed by any further demands, either by him or any of his people who may follow him into Italy, or who may come afterwards; and to the effect that the present state of our republic shall remain unharmed and intact, and that you shall continue to exercise the jurisdiction and full possession of your city, and of all castles, villages, and places, the same as you exercise and possess at the present time; and that your dignity, authority, and pre-eminence shall in no wise be diminished, either by himself or any of his people. Machiavelli said a good deal more upon this point, but all to the same effect. I asked immediately an audience of the king, and the evening after Machiavelli’s arrival I was received by his Majesty, and exposed to him in as few words as possible your Lordships’ views and intentions. At first I offered thirty thousand ducats in three payments, demanding that the Emperor should in return promise restitution and conservation, as communicated to me by Machiavelli. Thereupon Collaun answered, in presence of the Emperor, that this was a less offer than what you had made in 1502, and that our demands were at the same time greater; and that as to restitution, it was not worth while to speak of it. Seeing that the negotiation was likely to be broken off, if I did not give up the question of restitution, and that I should not be listened to any further if I did not increase the sum, I thought it well to go as far as forty thousand ducats, and to make the first payment more considerable, so that the king, in view of the greater immediate payment, to which he attaches great value, might condescend to accept that offer, and that thus your Lordships would save ten thousand ducats. And therefore I said that, knowing how well you were disposed towards his Majesty, I would venture in your Lordships’ name to promise forty thousand ducats, of which sixteen thousand should be paid upon his entrance into the first town wholly Italian, and the remainder  in two subsequent payments, according as might be agreed on the conclusion of this arrangement. I added, that although you attached the highest importance to Pisan affairs, and that your rights there were well founded, yet to show to his Majesty that you would leave nothing undone to prove to him your filial devotion, your Lordships would be content to say nothing about Pisa, but asked merely for the conservation and security of your present dominions. His Majesty listened with evident pleasure to what I said, and it seemed to me, so far as I could judge from external indications, that he was inclined to accept this proposition; but at the same time he made Collaun reply to me that he was pleased to have this offer, and would give me an answer the following day.

Before I took my leave he called Pigello* aside and asked him who this Secretary was that had just arrived, and by what route he had come; adding that it seemed to him the Florentines were making a good beginning. It was Wednesday evening, the 12th, when I had this audience, and should have had the answer on the 13th; but it has been put off from day to day, and has not been received up to the present, and for that reason I decided upon writing, so that your Lordships might not remain in uncertainty as to Machiavelli’s mission. This delay may be caused by the absence of Lango† from court, he having gone to Augsburg to obtain money; but he is expected back very shortly, for I have been told that the Emperor was pleased with the offer which I have made, and that his hesitation results from his apprehension that it may prove nothing but words by which you would not hold yourselves bound; and that, even if an actual agreement were made upon that basis, the first payment would have to be raised to twenty thousand ducats. I have been furthermore told, that it was Messer Paolo de Lichtenstein and Serentano, two of the most important men here, as I have written you before, who cause this delay in the answer, for the sake of obtaining better terms; and that it will be necessary to secure their good will and friendship. As I have neither instructions nor orders upon this point, I could do nothing in the matter except with words,  which I employed with great warmth, but know not whether that has sufficed them. I wanted to write you this, so that you may understand the whole matter as well as I do myself, and that, in case nothing should be concluded, you may deliberate as to what is to be done, and inform me of your resolve.

Your Lordships see now the course I have taken in this negotiation, and the reasons that have been given me for the Emperor’s not having replied; so that, considering the gracious manner in which I was listened to by his Majesty and his remarks to Pigello, I have reason to believe that what I have been told is true to a great degree. According to your instructions, it remains for me still to offer the fifty thousand ducats; but I do not believe that the difficulty consists in the greater or less sum, but rather in the amount of the first payment, which they would like me to raise as much as possible. For my part, whatever answer may be made, I am not for going as high as fifty thousand ducats, nor for promising twenty thousand as the first payment, without first having your reply, for I judge that the state of things here will afford me time to await your instructions. But should I see the contrary, and that things come to a certain point, which they may reach at any moment, then I shall not hesitate to yield both the one and the other. And as you charge me to make the first payment only when the Emperor with his army shall have arrived at a city wholly upon Italian soil, I am discreetly endeavoring to ascertain the exact position of Trent; and the people of the country tell me that the boundary line between Italy and Germany runs more than a mile this side of Trent. I mention this so that you may be fully informed upon every point; although I do not think that you can withdraw from the offer which I have made under your instructions without incurring obloquy, and exciting great indignation on the part of the Emperor.

I have little to add to what I have before written about affairs here. The Emperor is now within seven leagues of Trent; he has convoked a diet of his own subjects here, to induce them to aid him with some money in this enterprise. They have not yet decided upon anything, but will most probably accord him some men and money. There are but few troops here in the place where we are now, but between here and Trent troops are quartered in every village, and are said  to amount altogether to one thousand horse and about four thousand infantry; and within a few days they confidently expect some fifteen hundred horse that have remained behind, also a large force of infantry, although if the Emperor has money he can raise in this country as many infantry as he may want.

As I have written several times before, it is thought that, if his Majesty will pay the Swiss, the majority of them will come to serve him; but he would prefer their remaining neutral, which they refuse, saying that they cannot live without pay from some one; and in the end it will result in the Emperor’s taking them into his pay, provided he has money.

As regards the subject of money I am still of the opinion that his Majesty will have difficulty in providing it, and for that reason it may still be that he will make an arrangement either with France or with the Venetians. But anyhow, to whatever arrangement he may have to resort to enable him to come into Italy, he will do it gladly, if he cannot get the money together in any other way; although he is making every effort to be able to move without any such arrangement or help from Italy. Notwithstanding that there were rumors that the different princes and cities of the Empire had resolved in the Diet to pay the troops furnished to the Emperor for six months only, yet it is now reported that they have extended it for six months more.

The Venetians seem to occupy themselves with providing for the defence of their frontiers. Nevertheless they permit letters and everything else to pass without hindrance; and you have probably heard that, after disarming the infantry as they were leaving the Mantuan territory, upon which they had come, they have nevertheless restored these arms by sending them back.

A marriage is said to have been arranged between the son of the Archduke and a daughter of the king of England, and every one looks upon it as positively fixed. Nothing else occurs to me to write except to recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Francesco Vettori.

Botzen

17 January, 1508

Francesco de Vettori

24 February, 1508

Botzen

Maximilian I. Guelders

LETTER IV.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I wrote to your Lordships on the 17th instant, and sent the letter by Rafaello Rucellai, who was returning in haste to Florence. In that letter I advised you of Machiavelli’s arrival here, and of my having exposed to the Emperor the commission which he brought me from your Lordships; and that, to judge from his Majesty’s manner, I believed that he was pleased with the proposition I had made him. I also mentioned that he had told me that he would give me an answer the next day, that is on the 13th, but that he had not replied up to the date of my writing, and gave you also what I supposed to be the cause of this delay. Of that letter I enclose a copy with the present one. I kept Diavolaccio here for no other reason than to have some one ready to send whenever the Emperor’s answer should be received by me. Since then it has been deferred from day to day; but I did not ask for it lest I should seem too anxious for it, nor did I show myself entirely indifferent about it, so that it might not seem as though you would like me to forget about it.* But, thank God, I was sent for this morning; and in the presence of the Emperor, both Lang and Serentano being there, Lang said to me that his Majesty, having heard the offer which I had made in your name, had carefully examined it, but had come to the conclusion that, considering your demand for the conservation and guaranty of your state and dominion, and in view of the importance of your city, the amount of money offered was entirely too small; and therefore he was not satisfied, and declined its acceptance. But that he had concluded to make a demand of you which you could certainly not refuse; and that was, that you should lend him the sum of twenty-five thousand ducats, to be paid at once in cash; and that upon its receipt his Majesty would address you a letter, written in his own hand, and sealed with his seal, and with all customary formalities, by which he would obligate himself to the conservation and guaranty of your state and dominion. This letter, however, was not to be given to you at once, but would be deposited in the hands of the Fuggers for the purpose hereinafter  explained. After having made this payment of twenty-five thousand ducats, you are to appoint ambassadors for the sole purpose of coming to meet him whenever you shall hear of his arrival on the banks of the Po; but these ambassadors to be empowered also to conclude a treaty with him, and after the conclusion of such treaty the Fuggers are to hand over to you the above specified letter. But if no treaty is concluded, then the said letter is to be returned by the Fuggers to the Emperor, who will obligate himself to return you the twenty-five thousand ducats within the year. If, however, a treaty is concluded, then the twenty-five thousand ducats are to be treated as a payment on account of whatever sum shall be provided for by the treaty. Lang endeavored in a long argument to demonstrate to me the honest purpose and reasonableness of this proposition; saying that, if you desired to be esteemed by the Emperor, you ought to give him this proof of your affection, and that on his part his Majesty would pledge you his royal word to treat you as friends. In view of the occasion and the persons in whose presence I was, I answered briefly, that the offer which I had made really exceeded your ability, but that I had made it to show that you were not willing to fall short of your ancestors in recognizing his Majesty as your father and protector; but that as to the proposition made in reply, I could not see how it could be accepted by you, seeing that, whilst the payment was certain, the security was most uncertain; but that in accordance with my duty I would communicate it to your Lordships; and for the purpose of more thoroughly understanding it, I would come and dine with Lang. I did this so as to have an opportunity of telling him more frankly what I thought of the matter, not being able to do so at the moment without risk of wearying the Emperor. In explaining the reply, Lang said, whilst his Majesty was still present, that it would be well for me to write by several routes, and that I should give him a copy of my letter to you, so that he might send it; for as the Emperor was going to Trent, the Venetians might destroy the roads in that direction, and therefore I ought to write you to send your reply to Bologna to an agent of his called Doctor Rabelar, who would always, even in times of greatest difficulty, have the means of forwarding it safely; but your Lordships must not on that account fail to write me by your own couriers. I shall furnish Lang with the  desired copy of my letter to you, in which I shall however only write the proposition made by him, without touching upon the other circumstances.

A little while after my leaving the Emperor I had a long conversation with Lang, and told him that I was sure you would not accept his proposition, which required you to pay, and gave nothing in return; that in fact the Florentine people would never consent to such a thing. And as Lang said to me that the Emperor had charged him again to assure me that he would treat your Lordships most graciously, I answered that I did not doubt it, and that every other person that ever had any particular dealings with his Majesty would believe it equally; but that a republic and a people acted very differently from a private person, and that the general belief in Florence would be that they would lose the money without gaining the friendship of the Emperor, and that your Lordships knew as well as he did how sovereigns borrow money, and how they pay it back. And therefore it would be much better, and save time, if the Emperor should accept our proposition, which was in every way proper, and even beyond your ability; but if withal his Majesty thought differently, then let him say what he wanted, so that the matter might at once be arranged. Lang replied in general terms, but finally asked me what your Lordships were willing to do to settle this matter at once; to which I answered that I had already stated it, and that it was now for him to speak. I said this to see whether I could in any way find out what the Emperor really wanted of us; but in the end we reached no other conclusion than that I should communicate to your Lordships the answer made, which I have already done above, and that meantime we should both think the matter over, and discuss it further at another meeting. Lang had stated to me from the first that he was glad he was not the only one interested in your affairs, and assured me again of the same at our last interview, saying that he needed help; which refers to Serentano and Messer Paolo Lichtenstein, as I wrote you in my last. Your Lordships will reflect upon this point, and let me know your decision. I did not deem it advisable to make the offer of fifty thousand ducats, for I apprehend that, were I to do so without any result, it might prejudice any other proposition which you might decide to make through your ambassadors.

In thinking over the reasons that make the Emperor so desirous  to adhere to the plan of borrowing, and so unwilling to conclude any definite convention, I can imagine nothing but what I have already written several times; namely, that according to the decision of the Diet he cannot enter into any obligations with any Italian power; and therefore, whilst on the one hand he is very needy, and on the other unable to give any security, he tries the middle course of borrowing. He attempted to act in the same way with Ferrara, but did not succeed; and it was thus he acted with Sienna, where Pandolfo in return for his money received nothing but fair promises. For truly if it were not for this reason, seeing how his Majesty first received your offer, he would either have accepted it, or made a counter proposition not varying very much from yours. It will be necessary, therefore, in your decision of this matter, to keep in mind this plan of borrowing, and, should you conclude to put faith in the promises of this sovereign, a less sum than twenty-five thousand ducats ought to be sufficient for him; but should you determine to decline this proposal, then you must decide what you will do, and inform me accordingly. Nor do I think that it would be amiss if you were to send the ambassadors at once, for, as I have already said above, the Emperor has spoken of it; and it would be well even if they were to come farther north to meet his Majesty than he suggested. It was only to-day that Lang said to me that you had tried to be too prudent, and had never been willing to believe in the Emperor’s coming into Italy; for if you had believed it, the appointed ambassadors would have endeavored to come here. Although I duly met all these remarks, yet it may well be that their coming would greatly facilitate matters; for otherwise I do not think the Emperor will change his mind. It may also be that the Diet has not tied his hands, and that he does not wish to conclude an arrangement, because he has the intention of asking such a sum, which, although you refused it now, yet when you had once begun to pay, and the Emperor should be victorious, you would not allow yourselves to be asked for more than once.*

The preparations for the Emperor’s enterprise are more active than they were at the time of my last writing, 17th instant; infantry and men-at-arms continue to arrive here daily on their way to Trent, and others may be going there by different routes, which we do not see. Three days ago there was a review here  of five hundred infantry and some forty gunners; and from the 19th to the 22d of this month some thirty mounted guns, large and small, have passed through the Grisons into the Valtelline, whence they may be taken to Trent; and it is said that an arrangement has been concluded with the league of the Grisons according to which they are to furnish the Emperor eighteen hundred infantry at his cost, and that money has been sent there to prevent any one’s accepting pay from France. Yesterday one hundred mounted men arrived here, being sent by the cities of Augsburg and Ulm, and sixty more are expected to-day from Nuremberg. Another review was held here yesterday of about six hundred infantry; and a proclamation has been published, that all who have no engagement and want money can have both. Every day some three or four men-at-arms pass through here at a time, and likewise large quantities of munitions of war and provisions. The Venetians have sent all the men-at-arms and infantry which they had in the Veronese this side of Chiusi to the forts around Roverdo. Thus matters cannot remain long in their present condition. As I have written before, we may at any moment witness an unexpected movement; and if this conflagration is once lighted and some other arrangement be not made, your Lordships will see how difficult it will be for me to receive news from you, or for me to communicate with you from here. This is confirmed by what Lang said this morning in the Emperor’s presence, and which shows that he has no relations with the Venetians. Perhaps he may not wish it, or it may be that he has no hope of it, notwithstanding that the General of the Order of the Umiliati went a few days ago to Venice; it is not known, however, whether the Emperor sent him there proprio motu, or whether the Venetians have requested his coming, or whether he has gone with the view of ingratiating himself with the Venetians, as this priest derives his revenues from their dominions. I will see what I can learn about this affair, and will inform your Lordships.

It is not known when his Majesty will leave, nor do I believe that it is known by any one but himself; and therefore no one can tell when hostilities will actually begin, or the precise spot where they will break out; the general opinion is that it will not be beyond February, at furthest.

I have heard that the Emperor, unable to conclude anything with the Duke of Ferrara, wanted to dismiss the ambassador of  that prince, but that he has been dissuaded from doing so by his ministers, and therefore he is still here.

Botzen,

24 February, 1508

I have given Diavolaccio three Rhenish florins for his expenses.

P. S. — I have to observe to your Lordships that the Emperor seems to me very obstinate in his opinions, and that he considers himself so strong that I do not believe any arrangement can be made with him without ready money; and that twenty thousand ducats cash down will do more than the promise of fifty thousand hereafter.*

Francesco Vettori.

Francesco de Vettori

February 1, 1508

Botzen

Maximilian I. Guelders

LETTER V.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

Since Machiavelli’s arrival here I have written four letters to your Lordships, three of which, however, were very much of the same tenor. The first, of the 17th instant, was sent by the hands of Rafaelle Rucellai, and contained an account of the manner in which I communicated to his Majesty my instructions from your Lordships, to which he listened with pleasure and promised to give a reply on the following day, but which he has deferred from day to day since the 13th until now, without my knowing the cause of this delay; although I did not fail adroitly to solicit an answer. In the same letter I gave you some account of the state of things here, and have since then sent you a duplicate of it by Diavolaccio on the 25th, together with my letter of the 24th with his Majesty’s reply, to the effect “that he was not willing to accept the offer of forty thousand ducats, but wanted an immediate loan of twenty-five thousand ducats, in consideration of which he would give a guaranty for the conservation of your possessions, which was to be deposited in the hands of the Fuggers, with the condition that, when he should have arrived on the banks of the Po, you should send ambassadors to him with power to conclude a definite agreement with him upon all points. And upon the conclusion of such an agreement the Fuggers were to give up  to your Lordships the letter of guaranty, and the twenty-five thousand ducats loaned by you are to be credited to you on account of whatever sum might then have been agreed upon. But in case no agreement should be arrived at, then the Emperor is to repay you within one year the amount loaned, and is to receive back from the Fuggers the letter of guaranty.

“I wrote you at the same time what reply I had made to this proposition, and the long conversation which I had had on the subject, and that I had been unable to obtain any other terms. I also mentioned that his Majesty’s project was being pushed with increased vigor; but as I assume that that letter reached you safely, I shall not now repeat all I said therein, and shall confine myself merely to touching upon the main points. Nevertheless, I sent you, out of respect to his Majesty’s wishes, a copy of the same through the Emperor’s hands, as he had so commanded me. And as I was told that, in view of the danger of my not receiving your letters in future, because of the destruction of the roads, I should advise you to send your letters to Bologna to the care of Doctor Rabelar, a confidential agent of the Emperor’s who had facilities for forwarding them, I would request you at the same time to send duplicates of them also by your own couriers. In another letter I wrote you that I had learned from a great personage at this court that he believed he would be able to induce his Majesty to give you the guaranty upon your paying him the sum of twenty thousand ducats at once, with a promise of another like sum in four months; but as this personage is not always near the Emperor, it is quite possible that he may deceive himself. I mentioned furthermore, that Lang had said to Pigello that he would take no part in the matter unless at least one hundred thousand ducats were offered. I sent a copy of that letter also by way of Ferrara on the 26th, so that at least one would reach you anyhow, and I added, that the reason why I thought the Emperor would be more difficult in his demands than at first was the return of Lang from Augsburg, where he had collected considerable sums of money. I had understood, moreover, that the twelve Cantons were resolved to remain neutral, so that he would have but little or nothing to spend there.”*

Afterwards, on the 28th, your Lordships’ courier Baccino arrived with letters of the 19th, in which you inform me of your having sent Mancino to me on the 23d ultimo; but he has never made his appearance here. So much time having elapsed since then makes me fear that he has met with some mishap; and you must know that, with the exception of Machiavelli, the last letter or messenger from your Lordships was a letter sent by Simone, dated November 4. Your last by Baccino does not require a reply, for it seems to me that he was sent to me by your Lordships more for the purpose of having some one by whom I could write in return than for any other reason.

There have been rumors here of disturbances in Bologna, but we have heard since that they amounted to nothing.

From your Lordships’ letter it would seem that, according to the reports from Rome and Mantua, the preparations of the Emperor are slacking off; but from my own observations I can tell you that they are being pushed with rather increased energy. I wrote you from Augsburg why the troops that had entered the Mantuan territory had turned back; and that the Venetians had disarmed them on their return, but have since then restored their arms to them. I also wrote about the Diet which the Emperor was to hold here, which was, however, not a general Diet of Germany, but was confined only to the inhabitants of the Tyrol, for the purpose of obtaining money from them; and that this Diet had resolved to furnish now one thousand infantry to be paid by them for three months. But that hereafter, when hostilities had actually commenced, and in case the Emperor should have need of more, they would send him five thousand additional, and organize ten thousand for the protection of the country.

Infantry and cavalry continue to arrive here daily, and since I have been here some six hundred or more horse must have passed. The troops of the Duke of Königsberg, amounting to four hundred, are but a short distance from here. More than two thousand infantry have passed since my arrival here; but the country is so large that it is impossible to see or hear of all; so that a large army might suddenly issue from here, which previously would not have seemed possible. At one time matters had advanced to that point that the Emperor came as far as here; but he left again this morning to visit  certain castles in the vicinity, and it is believed that he will proceed to Trent within eight days, where he will find infantry, cavalry, and artillery. Every one can judge of the consequences, and one of three things must necessarily result; either the Emperor will only reap shame and lose his credit even in Austria, or he must attack Italy, or conclude an honorable peace. Certainly he will in no way want to incur shame, and therefore we must suppose that, if he is not able to effect an agreement according to his own views, he will have to decide upon war, and that very promptly.

I cannot judge how the Emperor stands with the Venetians. “Generale da Landriano returned from Venice on the 28th, after having been there for three days. I am ignorant as to what he brings from there; and on asking the Chancellor he told me that he did not know, adding that the General had been to see him, but told him nothing. I do not augur favorably from this, particularly as I learn from your letter that matters are cooling off in the direction of Rome. I apprehend that the Emperor, seeing that he cannot get any money from Rome, of which he is constantly in need, may conclude some arrangement with the Venetians; but I have nothing positive on the subject. It is possible that I may learn something more about it before closing this letter.”

I heard to-day that a herald had returned from Verona, whom his Majesty had sent there to inform the authorities of that city of his intended passage, and to demand quarters for twenty-five thousand men. It is said that the Proveditori of Verona replied to the herald, that if his orders were to engage quarters for that number of unarmed persons he might do so; but in the contrary case he must let it alone, and must inform his Majesty that, if he intended to pass through as his father had done, he would be received with due honors, but if otherwise, he would not be received at all.

“Whether the Pope has furnished any money to the Emperor or not, I cannot say; and although some of the principal personages of the court aver that he has, yet I have not believed it, and presume that they said so merely to induce you to move, etc. I have, indeed, learned that certain moneys recently collected have been deposited with the Fuggers, but it may well be that this was also done with the idea of producing the same effect. But your Lordships have  means of learning the truth about this at Rome, which I have not here. I have not heard of his Majesty’s having made any new convention with the king of Aragon, but I learn that the marriage project with England is definitely decided upon. No money has been received from Italy, unless it be from Sienna, which, however, I cannot say for certain, although I have seen such indications that I believe it. According to what I hear, his Majesty has gathered troops in three places: in the Friuli he has the troops of the country; in Burgundy he has many of the nobles and a considerable army; but according to my own observations his best troops are in the direction of Trent. He might make a movement by way of the Valtelline, for the league of the Grisons and the Valdenses, which form no part of the twelve Cantons, furnish three thousand infantry paid by the Emperor.

“Respecting our own matters I have nothing new to say, for I must await your reply; and, as I have always said, the Emperor has marked you for a very high amount, and I do not believe that he can be beaten down unless an immediate payment should make him lower his demands. I have made every effort to find out his Majesty’s intentions as regards giving you the guaranty; but Lang has always avoided the question, saying that it was for us to make an offer; and he added, ‘When I asked you, you had no powers to conclude anything,’ and that it would be proper for your Lordships to send a mandate to enable the arrangement to be concluded. I beg your Lordships to think well of all these points, and above all to send the ambassadors whilst the passes are still open; for the farther they come this way, the more reason shall we have to believe that they will prove of advantage to our city. And to tell you what I think, I do not believe that the Emperor will give you the guaranty of protection unless you pay him cash down unconditionally; for he seems to think more of ten thousand ducats cash than of twenty thousand on time.”

Not a word has been said to me of the letter presented by the Pisans to your commissioner, and which he declined to receive; nor has anything been said to me by the Emperor, or by any one else for him, about Genoese affairs. True, there was a Genoese here who complained to me that your Lordships had caused one of his compatriots to be arrested at San Pietro  a Sieve, but that he did not know the cause; adding, that he had obtained letters from the Emperor in the manner which your Lordships write that you have been informed; and that his Majesty would send me some word on the subject, which, however, has not been done, or I should have made it duly known to your Lordships, as I have invariably done with regard to everything else that has been communicated to me by his orders.

The ambassador from Ferrara is informed that the Emperor has at last made known his conclusion, as follows: “If the Duke will give me money in Germany, then we will discuss the subject of the investiture there; but if he delays it until I get into Italy, then we will wait until then to talk on the subject.” And thus the matter remains in suspense.

Servitor

Francesco Vettori.

Botzen,

February 1, 1508

Francesco de Vettori

8 February, 1508

Trent

Maximilian I. Guelders

LETTER VI.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

My last letters to your Lordships were of the 1st instant, and were sent to you by the courier Baccino. By way of precaution I repeated in those letters the substance of all I had written from the 24th ultimo up to the 1st instant, touching the Emperor’s reply, and all that I had been able to learn respecting his intentions. I shall not repeat it again now, deeming it unnecessary, but I await your answer with impatience. Your Lordships’ courier Coriolano has since then brought me a letter from your Lordships, but having carried it concealed in his shoe, it had become quite illegible; which, however, I regretted the less, as at the time of his being despatched from Florence Rafaelle Rucellai had not yet arrived there with mine of the 17th of January; I therefore conjectured that letter to be only a copy of your previous one. Two days after, another courier arrived bringing me yours of the 29th in reply to mine of the 17th; and upon carefully reading and examining it, I note two points that cause me great regret. The first is, that, “under the impression probably that matters  here were cooling off, you seem to think that I have gone too far with my offers; and the other, that you should instruct me at the same time to go even much further, whenever I should perceive that matters here are pushed so earnestly as to leave no doubt as to the Emperor’s intentions anyhow, and very soon, to descend into Italy. As to the first, it seems to me that I have acted with all prudence, and in conformity with my instructions, whether in consequence of my offer we should have come to terms or not, or whether, in fixing the place for making the payment, it should have been decided to be in a city of Italy subject to some power other than the Emperor; for thus, so far as you are concerned, the terms of the agreement would have been left to the judgment of your own wisdom. Both one and the other of these eventualities were fully discussed between Machiavelli and myself. As to the second point, namely, the enlarging of my instructions by your Lordships, coupled with three conditions which seem to me so difficult, I will not say merely for the wisest and most resolute citizen of all Florence, but for a whole senate, if it were here on the spot, and could see from day to day as I do, and as every one else could see, how things are going on. And although up to my last letter I have always written to your Lordships in such manner that you could form as good a judgment of matters here as I could myself, yet I will discuss them a little more fully even, so that you may see yourselves how matters can be appreciated, and what good luck a man must have to conjecture rightly.

“I shall not attempt to recall the events previous to my arrival in this country, nor how often and in what manner things have given rise to hopes that were as promptly dispelled; but shall confine myself to what has taken place from the time of the Emperor’s coming to Botzen until now. His Majesty arrived here about the 6th of the past month; but whilst it was supposed that his coming here would stimulate matters, it had rather the opposite effect, when it was seen that he began by assembling a Diet of his subjects, and that he was going around begging for money, and that, moreover, he had but few troops at Trent; so that seeing on the one hand that the Emperor had gone so far that he could not turn back without discrediting his enterprise, and that, on the other hand, he had not troops enough to advance any farther, every one became lukewarm.  And thence it was that I said in my letter of the 17th, that I believed there was time to await your reply. I added, however, that, owing to the wide extent of the country and the secrecy with which the Emperor manages his affairs, an unexpected movement might suddenly be made. Since then we have seen that from the 20th ultimo until yesterday matters have resumed a fresh vigor; that new levies of infantry have been made which are constantly arriving here, that a large quantity of artillery is being sent forward, and that a great number of horse are daily arriving. And although the infantry which we have seen pass here did not amount to more than three thousand, and the horse to one thousand, and that, so far as I knew, there were not here and at Trent and vicinity more troops than what I had written you in previous letters, nevertheless it was believed for certain that a body of infantry and cavalry proportionate to what we saw pass here was coming by another route, so that the most sceptical had no longer any doubt as to the enterprise being carried through. And that is the reason why, in all my letters since the 24th ultimo to the 1st instant, I wrote that the enterprise was being pushed ahead, and that the Emperor would attack Italy anyhow, unless he desired to remain covered with shame, or should conclude some honorable arrangement.” Subsequently, the Emperor left Botzen, and, passing through the different places between here and Trent, he entered that town at about the twenty-third hour on Thursday last. The following day there was a solemn procession, in which the Emperor personally took part. Being preceded by his Imperial heralds, and bearing a naked sword in his hands, he proceeded to church, where Lang addressed the people and informed them as regards the Emperor’s enterprise against Italy, etc., etc. The whole of Friday guards were stationed at the city gates, who let every one come in, but permitted no one to go out. All men in the city that were used to handling an axe were employed to hew stakes fit for palisades, and in making gabions in their fashion. The authorities, moreover, caused such quantities of bread to be made as would suffice to feed ten thousand persons for four days. A number of rafts charged with every variety of munitions of war were sent down the Adige. In the evening all the men-at-arms received orders to hold themselves in readiness to mount at the first sound of the trumpet; and at about nine o’clock they all started in admirable silence.

The Marquis of Brandenburg with about five hundred horse and two thousand infantry went towards Rovere, and the Emperor with about fifteen hundred horse and some four thousand infantry took the road leading to Vicenza. It was said, moreover, and reason seemed to demand it, that orders had been given on the same day that simultaneously with the two attacks the forces assembled in the Friuli should also move and join those led by the Emperor when the occasion and the success of the movements should warrant it. It was also reported that orders had been given for the three thousand infantry of the league of the Grisons and the Valais should move towards the Valtelline. And thus with these dispositions, that were partly seen and partly heard, great hopes of complete success were excited.

On Saturday evening the Marquis returned with his cavalry to Trent, whereupon it was said that, having presented himself before Rovere, and surrounded the place and demanded admission within, the commander of the place had asked for six days’ time to give a reply, but that only three were accorded him; and that thereupon the Marquis had returned with his cavalry, leaving his infantry at Petra, a place about two miles from Rovere. The Emperor, on the other hand, took possession of a mountain called the Siaga mountain, the spurs of which extend within twelve miles of Vicenza, where between the hills and the plain there is a castle belonging to the Venetians, and called Marostico, which holds a garrison of two thousand men, and can serve the possessor as a point of support for a good army, and from which Vicenza may conveniently be assailed. On the summit of this mountain there are several villages called the “Seven Communes,” on account of their number being seven. These belong to the Venetians, by whom they are well treated; this position is an important one, and is strengthened by some trenches. The Emperor seized this position, and filled the trenches so that artillery could pass, and some pieces have already gone there. Yesterday morning it was reported that he had taken the castle of Marostico, “which gave rise to the expectation that there would be some tumults in Vicenza, as there is with the Emperor a certain Messer Lionardo Trissino, a Vicentine, a man of some influence, who being dissatisfied with the Venetians had withdrawn for a while from his country. In the midst of these hopes it became known yesterday  evening that the Emperor, passing under the walls of Trent, had gone to lodge in San Michele, ten miles from here on the way to Botzen, so that every one became discouraged and remained in suspense. This sudden movement of the Emperor’s is variously commented upon; some apprehend that it may have been caused by the Venetians under promise from them to be his friends, but really with the view of observing him, either to discredit or to entrap him. Others believe that it was the result of his fatal facility of being influenced by others, who had held out to him the expectation of a rising in Vicenza, which however came to nothing. And there are not wanting some who, holding to their first opinion, believe in all the dispositions made by the Emperor, and who say that, if he has turned back, it is for some measure of prudence which, according to his habit, he wants to carry through in person, although he might have intrusted it to some one else.

“This is the state of things at present; and I would ask the wisest man in the world what he would do if he were charged with such a commission as your Lordships have devolved upon me. But I confess frankly, that, if I had received your letter three days sooner, I would have promised to make the payment not only at Trent, but even at Innspruck. And if I had done so, and matters had afterwards been pushed with less vigor, or had been deferred, I would like to know what would then have been said at Florence; but I can guess without being told. I do not say this because I lack either faith or courage to execute the commission with which your Lordships have honored me; but to show the difficulties of that commission, in the execution of which no man, unless he be a prophet, can divine the right thing except by chance. For whether it be attempted to judge in detail, according to what is seen from day to day, or on general principles, one cannot arrive at any more definite knowledge than what I have written above. But I do know that, if any one desires to judge according to the rules of reason whether a man will be victorious in such an enterprise, he must take into consideration the number and quality of the troops which such individual has, and his means of keeping them together, and how he governs himself as well as his forces. No one doubts but what the Emperor has plenty of soldiers, and of good quality; but how he will keep them together, there is the doubt.  For he can only hold them by means of money; and being on the one hand short of ready cash himself, he can never be sure that it will be supplied by others; and on the other hand, being extremely liberal, he piles difficulty upon difficulty; and although liberality is a virtue in princes, yet it is not enough to satisfy one thousand when there are twenty thousand more who are in need of it; and liberality does not profit except those to whom it is extended. As to the personal conduct of the Emperor, I will only say that it cannot be denied that he is an active and careful man, most skilful in the art of war, laborious, and of great experience; and more reputed than any of his predecessors for the past hundred years. But he is so good and humane a gentleman that he has become too easy and too credulous, whence it comes that some persons have great doubts as to the success of his enterprise, as I have stated above; so that, considering all things, there are grounds for hopes as well as for fears respecting the result. The grounds for hope are mainly two circumstances connected with Italy herself, and which until now have been the cause of the success and renown of all who have assailed her; and these are that she is constantly subject to revolutions and changes, and that she has wretched armies; this accounts for her marvellous conquests and equally marvellous losses. And although the French of the present day have good armies, yet not having the Swiss with them, by whose co-operation they have been accustomed to achieve victory, and moreover not feeling the ground safe under their feet, there is reason for doubts as to their success. All these considerations cause me to remain in doubt, and make me hesitate to take a resolution; for to give effect to your commission, it is necessary that the Emperor should make the attack and be victorious.

“I find myself here at Trent, and know not whether the Emperor will leave San Michele to-day or to-morrow, and am therefore kept in doubt as to what course to take. For the Emperor had ordered me not to leave Botzen; but having received your Lordships’ letter, and learning that the Emperor had already started, I left immediately to come here and make him your offer, fearing I might no longer be in time. But finding, whilst on the way, that his Majesty had turned back, my zeal has abated; and, unless I should hear something that would change my purpose, I am resolved to await  your reply. And even if I were to make your new offer to the Emperor I should stipulate that the first payment should be made in an Italian city subject to some other power, provided, as I have said before, that nothing new occurs that would prevent me. For just as everything seems lost at this moment, so to-morrow things may resume a much brighter aspect. And as we have seen that the feeble expedition of one thousand men into the Mantuan territory was followed by a much more vigorous effort, so may the present one be succeeded by another and more energetic one. Nor do I believe, as I have written before, that twenty thousand ducats down and fifty thousand in all, will induce the Emperor to give way, although he might perhaps yield if the payment were made here and now; but for this it would be necessary for him to have the documents in his hands, which, as I have written several times, might influence him more than anything else to give way. But be this as it may, if I should have to decide and be obliged to resolve upon what in a doubtful case might have a seeming certitude, I should certainly take the course which presents least appearance of danger. And in all these manœuvres I believe it to be better, if we have to err, to assume that the Emperor will go down into Italy, rather than believe the contrary. For in the first case the error would not be irremediable, whilst in the other I can see no remedy; or if there be one, it would be very hazardous. But he who wants to gain the greatest advantage must also risk more, and this would not be in accordance with your Lordships’ instructions.

“I have endeavored in this letter to show what conjectures can be formed of the state of things here, and how I should be disposed to act, so that your Lordships, in case you do not approve it, may direct me otherwise. But should you not direct me differently, then you must not be surprised if, after all, events should not justify my decision.

“I have received the letter of exchange, with the accompanying instructions, and shall make use of it when I can do so for the advantage of our republic, according as I may deem necessary. But this will be difficult, as it is three hundred miles from here to Augsburg, and I see no way of making any considerable payment here except through the Fuggers. I believe you will have to address yourselves to them, that is  to say, arrange with the Fuggers of Rome to instruct their correspondents here to pay whatever sum may be required. And although I have said that the great distance may cause difficulties, yet the Emperor, if the sum be considerable, will doubtless find means for overcoming the difficulty through the agency of the Fuggers.”

Machiavelli is very short of money, although I have thus far not failed to supply him; but on no account in the world would it do to recall him, and I entreat your Lordships to approve his remaining here until all matters are settled; his presence here is necessary. Nevertheless, if it should happen that the affair of five hundred and fifty-nine florins require his presence in Florence, and the roads be not dangerous, I am sure his love of country would make him brave all possible danger and fatigue.

Servitor

Francesco Vettori.

Trent,

8 February, 1508

Francesco de Vettori

14 February, 1508

Botzen

Maximilian I. Guelders

LETTER VII.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

The above is a copy of a letter I sent you on the 8th by the courier Ortolano. On the same day the Emperor, having heard that I had come to Trent and had received letters, sent for me, he being about two leagues from Trent. Lang, on his part, asked me whether I had anything to communicate, as I had received a courier. Having carefully examined your letter, I was not willing to make any other offer; for to promise fifty thousand ducats, the first payment on which to be made in a place in Italy not subject to the Emperor, would have been an offer that would not have been accepted; and to promise the first payment to be made in Trent did not seem to me advisable, seeing that the enterprise was being pushed with diminished rather than increased vigor. To enable your Lordships to understand the matter fully, I wrote on the 17th ultimo, that I had been informed that Trent was in Italy, and that to promise the first payment to be made in a place entirely in Italy might cause the Emperor to cavil and to  demand the payment to be made in Trent itself; and therefore I wanted your Lordships to take this matter well into consideration. But I spoke only for myself, as neither the Emperor nor any one else had intimated to me anything on the subject. Now your Lordships instruct me, in case I should see matters were being pushed vigorously ahead, and could not do otherwise, to promise the first payment to be made at Trent. But seeing that their efforts were being rather relaxed, I was not willing to make that offer, and excused my coming to Trent the best way I could; I cannot say, however, whether Lang was satisfied with my explanation. He ordered me on the part of the Emperor to return to Botzen, where his Majesty arrived himself two days after, and directed the Cardinal as well as myself and all the other ambassadors to transfer our residence to Meran, a place about three leagues from here; because, as he said, he wanted Botzen evacuated to receive the men-at-arms that were expected to arrive. The Emperor left here to-day, according to some for Innspruck, according to others for Bruneck towards the Friuli, so as to start a movement from there.

As I stated in my last despatch, of which the above is a copy, I am embarrassed by your letter of the 29th, and would certainly be glad to escape the heavy charge I have on my shoulders, which is enough to frighten any man, no matter what his quality. If I am told that I am on the spot, I reply that I cannot judge of this business any better than your Lordships; for I have written you all I have seen and heard, and you can therefore decide best what course would be the most advantageous for our republic. My last despatch informed you fully as to the state of things here, and since then nothing new has occurred, unless it be that there are continually men-at-arms going on to Trent, notwithstanding that those who went on towards the frontier and towards Rovere have all returned to the vicinity of Trent. It is said, moreover, that there are many troops in the Friuli and in the Emperor’s own territory, and that, so far as one can judge from appearances, the Emperor has need of nothing but money. But it is quite possible that this may be promptly and secretly supplied, and in such manner as to make it impossible to find it out. There is more than one community in Germany sufficiently rich to provide more money than what the Emperor needs. He might also obtain money from the Pope, or the Venetians, or from his  Most Christian Majesty of France, or from some other power, by means of special and secret treaties, so that it would not be possible to discover it.

I did not want to promise to make the first payment at Trent, for I did not see things as clearly as you had written me that I ought to see them before making such a promise. On the other hand, I should regret if, whilst I have moved to Meran and am thus separated from the court, the Emperor were to make a sudden movement forward, and that thus I should be no longer in time to make the offer which I am at liberty to make, and that you should then blame me and charge me with being the cause of ruin to the republic by not having made the offer to the Emperor in time. Nevertheless, I am resolved to take that course which reason suggests, believing that, whatever happens, I cannot justly be blamed. I wish very much that your Lordships would reply promptly, especially as I have no answer yet to the despatch I sent by Diavolaccio, and that you would indicate to me distinctly how I am to govern myself in this affair.

And upon this point it is my opinion that to come to terms with the Emperor and obtain from him the desired guaranty, your Lordships will have to adopt one of the two following methods. The first, and in my judgment the safest, would be to authorize the offer to be raised to one hundred thousand ducats, or even more, and to divide the payments in the best way possible; and to stipulate that the first payment shall be made when the Emperor is in Italy, and in a city not subject to him. The magnitude of the sum might possibly influence his acceptance of it. The second plan would be to offer a less amount, but an immediate and unconditional payment. Forty thousand ducats may possibly suffice for this; or say fifty thousand, in two equal payments. This latter offer I believe should be made before the Emperor enters Italy successfully, for after that it would be too late; and by making such offer beforehand it is quite possible that it may not be objected to by others, and that the Emperor, influenced by the immediate advantage, would accept it. In either the one or the other case the guaranty of the Emperor would be obtained; and having thus concluded an arrangement with him upon that point, your Lordships might agree upon another point, namely, to lend to the Emperor ten or fifteen thousand ducats, for which  he has asked; and thus secure his good will, leaving the repayment of such loan to his discretion after he shall have been successful, hoping that, like Pandolfo Petrucci, you would be fairly used by his Imperial Majesty.

All these suggestions which I present to your Lordships are not based upon any certainty in the matter, but are mere conjectures of mine, in which I may be entirely mistaken. Your Lordships may have already gathered these views from my preceding despatches. In the present one I wanted to confine myself to these particulars, so that your Lordships might reconsider the subject again, and give me your instructions how to act in this matter. Nor do I write this because I think that you should decide either according to the one or the other suggestion, but so that you may be fully informed upon all points, and not impute any presumption to me; and that you may take it as proof of my earnest efforts to serve your Lordships. I must entreat you again to give me definite instructions, for I cannot think differently of the state of things here from what I have already written you. Were I the only one that is embarrassed I should blame myself, but I see the wisest as well as the most imprudent in the same state of uncertainty; and if when at court one can only form such an unsatisfactory judgment of things, it will be still worse now, being obliged to reside at a distance from the court.

Although your letter of the 29th authorizes me to offer the payment at Trent, I see that I may still have difficulty in making use of this authority, for I should avail myself of it only in the way in which it was given me, and the Emperor might decide upon entering Italy either by the Friuli or the Valtelline, or by way of Burgundy, in which case he might regard the offer of the payment at Trent as a mere mockery. And therefore your Lordships should not hold to the instructions heretofore given me, but send me fresh ones, and as promptly and precisely as possible, and without any conditions whatsoever; which you can well do, having had full reports from me as to the state of things here, and knowing all that I know myself. I regret very much to learn that the passes are closed, and that consequently your communications cannot reach me with that promptness which the present occasion demands. I beg your Lordships therefore to send me your instructions in duplicate by different routes, and both by messengers  on foot as well as mounted, so that at least one of them may reach me. I should have sent Machiavelli back to the court, the same as I sent him the other day from here to Trent; but it would give umbrage to the court, and it would not do to disobey the Emperor’s orders, as perhaps neither of us would afterwards be permitted to remain in Germany, and therefore I conform to the customs of the country.

As I leave to-day for Meran I must not omit to tell your Lordships that, in conversing with some of the principal personages of the court, they, no doubt wishing to present the Emperor’s enterprise in a favorable light, assured me that a month would not pass without seeing that the Emperor had acted with consummate prudence and with great advantage to himself. Some others, however, not of the same high position, say that the Emperor has made this move to show to the people of the Empire that he needs larger means for his enterprise, and that it was a matter of honor for them to supply these means. Others, again, who reason upon these matters, say that the Emperor will have much difficulty in succeeding, or that he may be forced, if the Pope will not aid him with money, to make terms with his Most Christian Majesty of France, or with the Venetians; and that he has acted as he has done for the purpose of having an excuse with the Empire for having made terms with either the one or the other of those powers. And, finally, there are some who attribute his conduct to the reasons which I have exposed in the above copy of my previous despatch. Now whichever one of these opinions may be correct, your Lordships will examine them with your habitual prudence, and will form a more correct judgment thereupon than any one else. But you will reflect whether it be well to find yourselves without any arrangement with the Emperor in case he should succeed in one way or another satisfying his desire of making a descent into Italy. For it might well happen that his Most Christian Majesty of France, perhaps dissatisfied with everybody, would leave every one at the Emperor’s discretion.

All these things your Lordships can in your wisdom judge of better than any one else, and then form your determination and give your orders accordingly.

I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant!

Botzen,

14 February, 1508

P. S. — I must not omit to remind your Lordships, with the utmost respect, that, in case some arrangement has to be concluded, the court here would desire that I should be commissioned to do it.

Whilst I believed that Simone had already passed Bologna, he arrived here yesterday evening, and said that he had turned back because at Pietra the Germans would not allow him to pass, as the Emperor had given strict orders not to permit any one to pass into Italy without a letter from him, so that no one should be able to give any verbal account of his preparations. As I had not been informed of these orders at the time when I despatched Simone, it did not occur to me to provide him with such a permit. However, I will endeavor to obtain an order for him to pass, and will send him back again, and will at the same time write you by him all that has occurred here since the 14th instant.

To-day is the 19th, and nothing of interest worth being reported has occurred during the past five days; particularly as we are here at Meran, away from the main road, and where we neither see nor hear anything. Still, I learn from persons that come from Botzen or Trent, that infantry and cavalry are continually passing through Trent, and that within the last five days more than three thousand infantry have passed Botzen, and more are constantly expected; and from here also some five hundred have gone. It is reported that at Landrech, a place about two days’ journey from here, there are some three thousand men who are to come this way, so that matters are evidently being pushed with increased energy rather than otherwise. The Emperor is still at Brixen, and it is not known whether he will come this way or go by way of the Friuli. On the other hand, I find myself still in the same embarrassment which I have mentioned before, and which is felt by everybody here, for no one can reasonably conjecture, not alone what the end, but what even the beginning, of this enterprise is likely to be; and therefore I could have wished that this despatch could have been sent to you on wings, so as to have your reply the sooner; and that, having thus your definite instructions, I might carry them into execution with the more certainty. But the very reverse has occurred, and what grieves me most is that I have just learned that the courier Diavolaccio, who ought to have brought me your Lordships’ reply to mine of the  29th, has been plundered on the way and is coming back here. Thus difficulty is heaped upon difficulty. And although I am authorized without any further instructions to offer in all fifty thousand ducats, of which twenty thousand to be paid at Trent, as before stated; yet I do not see my way clear for deciding upon this, inasmuch as you had written that I should not make this offer unless I saw that the Emperor’s descent into Italy was certain.

And therefore I wrote to your Lordships not to rely upon your previous instructions, but to send me positive orders, and I now repeat this request. On the other hand, I shall continue to watch things here as carefully as possible whilst awaiting your Lordships’ reply to my despatch of the 24th, or of the 8th, or the present one. But I observe that matters are being pressed, and if this enterprise should be pushed with the usual impetuousness of these Ultramontane movements, we should no longer be in time for any arrangement. Nor do I know whether our offer would now be accepted, and whether it may not prove to our disadvantage to have made it. In short, in the present state of things I have no hope of being able to do anything under the instructions I have from you; and for that reason I am so desirous, before taking another step, to have a reply at least to my despatch of the 24th, if not to the others. And if I do not receive it I shall act as God may inspire me, and as I shall believe to be for the best interests of our country; and in doing so I hope to be justified in the eyes of God and men.

Francesco de Vettori

19 February, 1508

Meran

Maximilian I. Guelders

Meran,

19 February, 1508

It is only to-day, the 23d of February, that I have obtained permission from Messer Paolo to despatch a courier, which I had hoped to do much sooner. He will leave to-morrow, but I do not know even now whether he will be allowed to pass Rovere. Not to miss any opportunity, however, I hazarded two days ago sending another letter by two vagrants who are going to Italy, in which I gave a brief summary of the state of things here, and solicited a reply to my despatch sent by Diavolaccio, reminding your Lordships, as I do again now, that without fresh instructions I shall not be able to execute the commission you sent me by Simone on the 29th, even if it should seem to me that the time for doing so had arrived; for an offer to make  a payment at Trent whilst the Emperor is going through the Friuli would seem to him derogatory. And then as the Emperor evidently intends to obtain a large sum of money from you for his guaranty, it is not likely that he would accept your present offer, unless he should feel that he is weak; and in that case it would not be for your interest to make him any offer. But for the reasons given above it is impossible to judge whether he is weak or strong. It might well be, however, that he came down to accept such a sum as you offer, if for a part of it letters of exchange were in hand and the remainder could be offered him as a certainty; as I have already written that, notwithstanding his being above accepting such a sum, he might yet, on finding himself short of money, yield suddenly on seeing the ready money before him; and therefore I say, by every consideration, I ought to have fresh instructions covering every point and every possible contingency, and so drawn up that one communication may suffice, for as the roads are no longer open there can be no multiplicity of communications.

The Emperor has remained until within the past two days at Brixen, a place about two days’ journey from Trent. Thence he went to Bruneck on the road to the Friuli. Here at Meran, where we now are, a thousand infantry have passed, and it is said that three thousand more are to come, who are to move on to Trent, where it is reported that ten thousand infantry and four thousand horse are to assemble; and the opinion prevails that the Emperor will make his attack upon Italy with a large force by way of the Friuli. As to the number of his troops, and where they are, and how they are to unite, it is as impossible for me to say as it would be for your Lordships to know what is going on at Naples, unless you had some one there to inform you. You must not suppose, therefore, that I can form a correct judgment of matters here; all we can do is to recommend ourselves to God in all the resolves we may form.

But what disturbs me very much is to be, as it were, in a lost island, whence I cannot get away myself, nor send any one without permission.

I recommend myself to your Lordships.

Meran,

23 February, 1508

P. S. — I have ordered the courier Simone to take the post at Bologna, so as to get the sooner to Florence, and for this purpose  have given him five ducats gold, which your Lordships will please refund to my brother Paolo.

Your servant,

Francesco Vettori.

Francesco de Vettori

7 March, 1508

Meran

Maximilian I. Guelders

LETTER VIII.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

If I believed that Simone had arrived at Florence with my despatches of the 24th, 19th, and 14th February, I should not take the trouble to answer you; but having reason to doubt it, I will repeat succinctly what has occurred here during the past month up to to-day, and also the opinions which, according to the reports and conjectures one hears, may be formed as to the results of the enterprise in question. After that I will tell you how your matters stand with the Emperor, and what conclusions we may reasonably form from his proceedings. I shall not repeat what I have written before on the 24th, 25th, and 26th of January, and the 1st of February, because I believe that those letters reached you safely, although I am still without any answer to them. I also believe that my despatch of the 8th of February sent by Ortolano has safely arrived, in which I pointed out the difficulty of watching and judging affairs here, and in which I reported how the Emperor caused Rovere to be assaulted on the 5th ultimo by the Marquis of Brandenburg with about two thousand troops, who retreated the same evening to Trent; and how the Emperor in person, with about five thousand men, went on the same day to seize the Communes on Mount Sioch in the direction of Vicenza; and how finally, whilst this was generally regarded as a most energetic movement forward, his Majesty withdrew on the 7th to Botzen, to the astonishment of everybody. After that the Emperor went to Brixen, a place about two days’ journey from Trent in the direction of Innspruck, whence he afterwards moved to Bruneck, and from there took the road to the Friuli, where with about six thousand troops of the country he scoured certain valleys within the Venetian dominions for a distance of more than twenty miles. Letters were received on the 26th of February from Bruneck, of which the following is a verbatim  copy. “The Emperor has taken the valley of Cadauro, through which the road leads to Venice by the Trevisan territory; the castle of Bustauro, which formerly belonged to the church of Aquileja, he has left behind him; but has taken the castle of San Martino, and some other places in the vicinity; also the castle of Pieve, which was guarded by a gentleman who took to flight so soon as he heard of the approach of the enemy. He has also taken another valley, called Comoligon, which was guarded by the Counts Saviniani. And after that he ordered the army to advance towards the Trevisan territory,” &c. Beyond this, nothing certain is known of his progress; but I have heard some persons say that the Emperor was to be at Serezino to-day, this being the 1st of March; this would be within two days of Innspruck, where it is supposed he goes to raise money on pledge of certain of his jewels.

From the direction of Trent we have no news since the Emperor’s departure from there, except that some two thousand infantry and two hundred mounted men have gone from there and from Botzen. Your Lordships will see from all this what the condition of the enterprise is at the present, and how it is conducted; but no man can guess what the end of it will be, for we cannot learn clearly whether the Emperor will meet with any support in Italy. All we hear is, that the Venetians have difficulties about money, and that they are considerably alarmed; and as his Majesty two days ago despatched one of his counsellors, who was formerly his ambassador at Naples, in an unknown direction, it is surmised that he was sent on a mission to the Venetian government, at their request, for the purpose of initiating some negotiations. And it is apprehended that, if the Emperor should find means to come to terms with either the Venetians or the French, he will conclude an arrangement with them, notwithstanding that the Cardinal has received information that France has been holding back for some time. It is not known what the Pope’s disposition towards the Emperor may be, but it is believed that he is somewhat irritated against him because the Cardinal has complained, that ever since leaving Memmingen up to the present the Emperor has never communicated anything to him, and that at the departure from Memmingen his Majesty had said to him in an angry manner that he would show to the whole world that he was able to make war without the help of  either the Pope or the king of France. In a word, no one here ventures to express a definite opinion; for on the one hand it seems to everybody that it will be very difficult for the Emperor, without the aid of the Pope, to make head against the Venetians and France, more especially since he has begun to make war upon them in a manner so slow as to have given them courage to resist, and time for making the necessary provisions; and on the other hand the power of Germany is so great that, if she wants to do so, she is able to resuscitate an enterprise that is dead, and can more easily yet infuse energy into one that is still alive. And those who venture to guess say that the Emperor has made this movement for no other purpose than to make the Diet of the Empire furnish him fresh subsidies; for the Diet had granted him supplies for a term of six months, and had authorized five princes of the Empire to make him a further allowance for six months more in case the first should not suffice. Now it was precisely for the purpose of proving the insufficiency of the first that the Emperor made this attack.

The Cardinal had a courier from Rome yesterday, and thereupon immediately wrote a great deal, and sent the courier to the court, and on being asked by a person in authority, Quid novi? he replied, that he had a variety of good news which would be made known in good time; and this was all the answer that could be obtained from him.

As regards the relations of the Emperor with the powers outside of Italy, I can tell you what I have learned, having had the opportunity to hear, for we are all at leisure here. According to the ambassador from Aragon, the Emperor has not done well not to come to an understanding with his sovereign, who would have been satisfied merely to have the government of Castile assured to him, and, in case he should die without heirs, to leave all his states to his nephew, to which the Emperor would not consent; and in this the ambassador says that the Emperor did not act wisely, as his sovereign would have aided the Emperor in war and in peace. The ambassador from England has had advices since he has been here, that although the marriage with the son of the Archduke has been agreed upon, yet nothing will come of it unless his king obtains the hand of Donna Marguerita, and that the Emperor seems to put it off, showing thereby his unwillingness to consent,  although the ambassador has given him to understand, that if the one is not done, the other will not take place; and that his sovereign will not make the same demonstrations which he would do if he obtained Donna Marguerita. And finally, as to the twelve Cantons, matters remain in the same condition as I have written before, and it is some time since anything has been said in relation to them. It is for your Lordships now to form your own judgment of these matters, for no one here can venture to do so; but you can do it, inasmuch as you can find out whether France is making preparations for war, or whether she is disposed to peace; and upon this point nothing can be learned here. For this reason I have written and now write again to ask your Lordships to be pleased to give me positive instructions, and to decide what course you intend to take. Your affairs here are in precisely the same condition as stated in my despatch which I sent by Diavolaccio, and to which I still await a reply. According to the indications which I notice here, I think it necessary, if you desire the guaranty and to conclude once for all with the Emperor, that you adopt one of two courses. The first is to raise the amount to be offered to one hundred thousand ducats, or even more, with the promise of making the first payment in the first Italian city not subject to the Emperor; this seems to me the most certain way. The other is for you to obligate yourselves to pay forty or fifty thousand ducats, and to pay one half cash down, for which the letters of exchange must be in hand, and to promise the other half unconditionally in three or four months. The first proposition the Emperor may be induced to accept, because of the largeness of the amount; and his necessities together with the advantage of an immediate payment may make him accept the second; but this latter would be less certain, and would involve greater risk. Your Lordships might also adopt a third plan, which would be more in accordance with the Emperor’s demands; namely, to lend him a certain sum without any security, and depending solely upon his good will and discretion; for this ten or fifteen thousand ducats should suffice, although he asks for twenty thousand. One of these three plans your Lordships must adopt, according to my judgment, for the purpose of arriving at a conclusion. I say this, not because I know anything positive about it, but merely by way of conjecture; but it may well be that I deceive myself,  and therefore I write you everything, so that, being fully informed, you may come to some definite determination.

I have not made the offer of a payment of twenty thousand ducats at Trent, for if no other consideration had kept me from doing so, it would have been the conviction that the payment of the twenty thousand ducats would be the only thing certain about it; for inasmuch as the Emperor counts upon obtaining a very large sum of money from your Lordships, he certainly would not accept twenty thousand ducats unless he felt himself extremely weak, and in that case there would be no occasion to pay him anything. Moreover, to offer the payment to be made at Trent whilst the Emperor is not there, and has probably no intention of going there, but will go by an entirely different route, would naturally cause him to look upon that offer as a mere mockery. And therefore I repeat to your Lordships that I must have fresh instructions, carefully prepared so as to cover every point and contingency, so that I may not have to ask again for further orders; for, the roads being closed, our correspondence is necessarily restricted; and meanwhile time passes and a month’s delay may be of great importance, for the Emperor must now promptly satisfy his desire to go into Italy, either by means of some agreement, or by a war carried on differently from what has been done hitherto, or he will become the laughing-stock of the whole world.

The whole of this letter, with slight exception, is little more in substance than what I have written you by Simone. I will endeavor to send it off if possible; for amongst my other annoyances there are two that nearly kill me, namely, to be away from the court, and the impossibility of either sending to or receiving letters from your Lordships.

I wonder much that I have no reply to my despatch sent by Diavolaccio, although I heard that he had been plundered on his return; still, as letters have been received here since then from Sienna, and even from Rome, I cannot understand why I have none from your Lordships. And as you have always said that it was the Venetians who wished to usurp the liberties of Italy, and as the Emperor has now made open war upon them, he will think that you intended to pay him with promises when he sees that you are delaying your answer. I therefore repeat again that it is essential you should write and send me fresh powers, with definite instructions as to what I ought to do.  And if you still entertain the idea of paying him money, then you must send me letters of exchange, which, as I have written before, can be had through the Fuggers in Rome. Your Lordships must not think that your instructions of the 29th of January can be of the least use; for, as I have written before, they are applicable only at Trent, and in case I should see clearly that the Emperor’s enterprise is being pushed successfully. But in that case the Emperor would certainly not accept that proposition, particularly as it is not accompanied with ready money. And even if I were to offer to pay him at Trent in cash, yet the money would not really be there, and I could only give him bills of exchange, which would require at least a month’s time before the money would be paid on them, and therefore nothing can be done upon the basis of your instructions of the 29th of January.

To-day is the 7th of March, and the Emperor is at Innspruck. Three days ago the Legate received news from the court that the deputies of the Empire had very readily extended the subsidies to the Emperor for another term of six months, at which his Majesty has shown himself much pleased, and was preparing to send off letters to that effect. This is all we hear of him; but it is supposed that he will be here within six or eight days, and then go wherever it may seem good to him. The troops that were at Trent, some nine thousand infantry and cavalry, went two days ago in camp at Castel Barco, a place opposite Rovere, on the other side of the Adige, and on the right in going from here into Italy, Roveredo being on the left. The place surrendered at discretion in three days, whilst the imperial forces were waiting for artillery; the garrison, consisting of forty men, are still prisoners. Nothing has been heard since as to whether the army has moved forward; some say that it will march upon Castel Brettonico, on the same side of the river; others say that it will march upon Roveredo, the garrison of which place is said to consist of fifteen hundred Spaniards. This is all we have heard from that direction, nor have we any news from the army in the Trevisan territory; or from any other direction whatever, except that within the month eighty artillery wagons have gone from Trent in the direction of Roveredo, and two wagons loaded with chains for the construction of bridges. Of the Emperor’s negotiations we hear nothing; I have been told, however, that  the Cantons furnish twenty-five hundred men to France, and the individual who told me this said that Lang had not denied it, but had said that the Emperor would also have Swiss troops. Upon these points your Lordships can obtain much more reliable information by way of Lombardy, as also in relation to all other negotiations which the Emperor may be carrying on either with France or the Pope. And thus you will be able to form a better judgment upon all these points than what can be done from here.

Servitor

Franciscus Victorius,
Ambassador.

Meran,

7 March, 1508

Francesco de Vettori

22 March, 1508

Innspruck

Maximilian I. Guelders

LETTER IX.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

Your Lordships will find annexed to this a report of all that has taken place here from the 24th of February until the 7th of March; and although there are some things in that statement which I might now have passed over in silence, or curtailed, yet I send it as it was written, so that your Lordships may know step by step how matters have been regarded here, and thus form a better judgment of them. You will also know the changes they have passed through, and will therefore have compassion with those who have had to express an opinion about them. I had written that report on the morning of the 7th, in the expectation of sending it to you by a person from Rome, who afterwards declined to take it. Later on the same day, at the twenty-second hour, the Governor of the Tyrol made known to all the ambassadors that he desired to confer with them, on behalf of the Emperor, at the house of the Aragonese ambassador. Having met him there as appointed, he presented a letter of credence from the Emperor, and then said that the Emperor, having heard that the Swiss had declared in favor of France and had sent some six thousand troops there already, had therefore resolved to declare war against them. But wishing first to confer with the Legate and the other ambassadors upon certain points, he desired that the Legate and ourselves should come to meet him for that purpose  at Innspruck by way of Brixen. We replied, that we were disposed to obey the Emperor’s request, and would consult with the Legate about it. We went after that to see the Legate, who was quite perplexed and disinclined to make this trip, and finally begged us to postpone the matter until the next Monday, saying that he would in the mean time send a confidential agent to the Emperor to notify him of the time when he would start with us, and at the same time make our excuses to him. But I believe that he did all this merely to see whether he could not get off from going to Innspruck.

We conformed to the Legate’s request, and on Monday, which was the 13th, we started from Meran. On the road, we heard that that portion of the Emperor’s army which had gone towards Roveredo had made no progress, but had stopped at Petra; whilst the other part, which had gone towards the Trevisan territory, had even done less, and that some thirteen hundred of the infantry, under command of a reckless captain, had been betrayed by some of the people of the country to enter into a certain valley in hopes of plunder, where they were assailed with stones from above, and surrounded by about six thousand Venetian horse and foot; and that only about three hundred had escaped with their lives, but afterwards surrendered, whilst all the rest were killed. This disaster has caused great irritation throughout all Germany against Italy, and more especially against the Venetians. The priest Lucas, whom I have mentioned as having gone to Venice, has returned, having been ordered away from there on the receipt of the news of that victory. It is reported that the only remark the Emperor made when he heard of this loss was, that “it served them right to be killed for going where they ought not to have gone.” But to prevent any further disasters to that portion of his army, he immediately sent the Duke of Brunswick there, who is highly reputed as a military man.

Before our departure from Meran the Legate received a letter informing him that the Emperor had left Innspruck for Suabia, for the purpose of convoking a Diet, and to stir up the Suabians against the Swiss, and that the coadjutor of Brixen would communicate to the Legate the commands of the Emperor. And so we arrived here yesterday together with the Legate; but nothing was communicated to him by the coadjutor, who said that he had received no orders of any kind. On the  road, we learned by letters to the Legate, not from the Emperor, but from a Lombard exile, that the report of the Swiss having declared against the Emperor was not true, and that only a few thousand, without authority from the Cantons, had taken service in France; in consequence of which the government of the Cantons had seized the French ambassador, and would not release him until all the Swiss who had taken service in France were first returned to them. This Lombard exile mentioned furthermore, that the Grisons had beheaded certain agents who had distributed money on the part of France amongst the people of the country; and that the Emperor had convoked the Diet in Suabia, not for the purpose of having them declare against the Swiss, but against the Venetians, and to have them vote, besides the regular supplies to the Emperor, certain extraordinary subsidies.

Your Lordships must now form your own judgment as to which of these statements are true. The Legate had a letter this morning from Messer Mariano, Auditor of the Rota, whom he had sent from Meran to the Emperor, informing him that the Emperor was at Cospain, and had called the Diet to meet at Ulm, one of the chief cities of Suabia, four days’ journey from here; that the Diet was to open on Sunday next, and that there would be present ambassadors from the Suabian League, also from Switzerland, and a number of princes, and particularly those who had been charged by the Diet of Constanz to extend the supplies to the Emperor for an additional six months; and that the Emperor desired that the Legate and the other ambassadors should also go there, if it were not too much trouble for them. The Legate has not yet decided what to do, but will do so to-day, and I will inform you of his decision before closing this letter. We hear, as I have already mentioned above, that the disaster inflicted by the Venetians upon the German troops has caused a general irritation in Germany, and that they will promptly decide upon sending help, and that in consequence the demands of the Emperor have been considerably increased. On the road from Botzen here we met several hundred men-at-arms and six hundred infantry, and a number of wagons loaded with lances, swords, provisions, and munitions of war. This is all the information I can give you as to the state of things here up to this day, the 19th; and thus your Lordships know as much about it as I do myself.

The Courier Baccino arrived here on the 7th at two o’clock at night, and brought me a short letter from your Lordships of the 19th ultimo, which however contains no answer to my despatch sent by Diavolaccio, but refers me upon all points to yours of the 29th January, adding merely that I may at my discretion offer to raise the first payment to twenty-five thousand ducats; but that I am to do so only if in my judgment the chances of the Emperor’s descent into Italy are three out of four. I cannot do otherwise in this business than to conform to your Lordships’ will and pleasure, and to bear the burden imposed upon me the best way I can. But as your Lordships say that I shall make the offer only if I believe that the Emperor will carry his project into execution, I say now that I believe the chances are more than ever that he will attempt the passage again, and with a larger force than before; but whether he will be successful or not, remains to be seen; and whether he abandons the attempt or fails in it, that will really be the same to your Lordships after you have once shown your hand. Now to form a judgment as to whether the Emperor will succeed or not is the more difficult for me, as I know nothing of the strength of the Venetians, nor of the preparations of the French, of which your Lordships give me no information in any of your letters. Having to judge of this at a distance, I can but conclude that the Venetians are very strong, for I see that of the Emperor’s two armies, each of which was composed of from six to seven thousand men, the one has been defeated and the other held in check. Thus what force must we suppose the Emperor would need to enable him to beat the Venetians and the French together? Still, if I knew what is being done in the Milanese, and what preparations have been made there; and on which side the French are going to place themselves, what troops the Venetians have, and whether they are able to bear the expense; and finally, if I knew whether the French and Venetians will unite their forces for the defence of Italy, — then I might boldly form an opinion, and with less fear of making a mistake. But as it is, I can only recommend myself to God, and hope that your Lordships will believe that whatever I may do is done with the best intentions, and in the hope that it may prove to be for the best.

It might also be, as I have said in a previous despatch, that without any apparent preparations a peaceable arrangement  might suddenly be concluded, of which no one had any previous knowledge. Indeed, I have heard within the past two days that the Emperor, moved by his hatred against the Venetians, shows himself inclined to treat with France, in which he is encouraged both by the Legate and the Aragonese ambassador. And it is even said that the Legate, at the request of the Emperor, has already written to France on the subject, and that there is but one serious difficulty, namely, that France does not know with what sort of a conscience she can abandon the Venetians; and to enable her to do so with some color of pretext, the Legate has suggested that the king of France should call a council at Lyons, at which he should declare to the Venetians that, if they will furnish him an extraordinary subsidy of six hundred thousand ducats, he will not only defend the Milanese, but make war upon and beat all Germany with honor and advantage to his crown. But if they will not furnish him that sum, then he would be obliged to abandon the Venetians and make peace for himself. It is supposed that the two sovereigns would prefer peace at the expense of others, to war at their own cost, even with the hope of some gain; and therefore it seems likely that France will in some way be obliged to abandon the Venetians, and leave them to clamor against her. Your Lordships will learn by way of Lyons whether all this is true or a mere invention; I have written it just as it was told me, and as a secret. Those who pretend to judge of these matters believe that the Emperor would rather satisfy his desire of going to Rome being at peace with France than at war. Should your Lordships hear anything more in relation to these matters, you will know what course to take under the circumstances; as for myself, I must repeat that I shall know nothing certain about it until after the event.

To return now to the offer which your Lordships have authorized me to make, etc., I repeat that I still see the same difficulties which I have explained in the annexed despatch; and which are, first, to have to confer with the Emperor at Trent, where he may not be willing to return, preferring probably some other route; and secondly, because I could not make the first payment promptly, having no bills of exchange in hand, nor even the power definitely to conclude an arrangement; and finally because I can give no certain assurances as to the payment of the remainder. Moreover, as I have already written,  I regard this offer as altogether to the Emperor’s advantage, and not at all to yours; for if he feels himself strong he will decline it, for he expects a great deal more from you; and should he feel that he is feeble, then he will accept, to your prejudice. And if you should wait until he is strong, then you will be no longer in time with your offer. But it is impossible correctly to anticipate all this.

The Diet will certainly convene, and I shall take counsel from its conclusions and from what I shall hear and see from day to day. If the Cardinal goes to the Diet, I shall send Machiavelli along with him, as I am prevented from going myself, having been seized with so acute a pain in one of my arms that it prevents my riding on horseback. And therefore I beg your Lordships to grant me leave to return to Florence, so that I may subject myself to a lengthy and regular cure, should it be necessary. If, however, I find myself able to ride in a few days, I shall not fail to go to the court. I have given Machiavelli orders to go, and closely to watch the proceedings of the Diet and to report to me fully, so that I may direct him what to do, and afterwards inform your Lordships of everything. It is understood that the Emperor has three objects in view in convoking this Diet; first, to settle matters once for all with the Swiss if possible; secondly, to have the Empire accord to him the additional six months’ supplies, unless perchance this should already have been done; and finally to obtain from the Suabian League something more than ordinary; all of which we shall know better as we hear from day to day how things are going.

I have kept this letter back until to-day, for I wanted to see what the Cardinal would decide about going to the court, as he had written there the other day to ascertain whether he could be excused from the trouble of going. But as he has not yet received a reply to that letter, I have thought it best no longer to delay despatching Baccino, to whom I have given eleven ducats gold, ten of which are for his return, and one for having sent him from Meran here to find out from Giovanni Rustichi the whereabouts of the Emperor. I have given this money to Baccino because he seems to me to deserve it better than any other of your couriers; for during the past six weeks he is the only one that has come from Italy. Your Lordships will please reimburse this amount to my brother Paolo.

We have news here of the death of the Count Palatine, who leaves four sons. Yesterday evening the Legate told me that three of the Swiss Cantons had accepted a sum of eight thousand ducats as earnest money from the Emperor for eight thousand infantry; and that the Diet will under any circumstances arrange to have the other Cantons recall such of their infantry as have taken service in France. These reports about the Swiss seem to me confused, and no doubt they will appear the same to your Lordships; for I cannot understand how three of the Cantons can send eight thousand infantry out of the country, or how three Cantons can decide one thing, whilst the others want something quite different. Nor can I see how six thousand men could have been raised without permission of the Communes, and that the Communes should not have heard of it in time to have prevented it.

With the exception of my arm, I am well, thank God.

The Marquis of Brandenburg passed through here two days ago on his way to be present at the Diet; he came from Trent, where he commanded the army, and has left his son Casimir to take his place for the time.

Servitor

Francesco Vettori.

Innspruck,

22 March, 1508

Francesco de Vettori

29 March

Botzen

Maximilian I. Guelders

LETTER X.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

On the 22d I wrote very fully to your Lordships upon various matters, and sent the letter by Baccini. Amongst other things I mentioned our departure from Meran to Innspruck by order of the Emperor, in consequence, it was said, of the Swiss having declared in favor of France; and that before our arrival at Innspruck the Emperor had gone to Suabia to hold a Diet for the purpose of stirring up the Suabian League against the Swiss; but that afterwards it was said to be against the Venetians, because the Swiss had resolved to support the Emperor. I mentioned also several other things in that despatch, of which I send full duplicate to-day by the same German courier by whom your Lordships sent me your last letters of the  4th instant. I write now briefly, and annex another copy of my previous despatch, and send it by Messer Paolo Lichtenstein, who has so requested me. This Messer Paolo is one of the three persons nearest to the Emperor; he sent for me at Innspruck and came to see me here at Botzen, and told me that the Emperor, being occupied with the Diet, had commissioned him to bring matters to a point with you; that he desired not only to satisfy his sovereign, but also to be agreeable to your Lordships; and knowing the position in which you are, namely, that you feared the Emperor, the king of France, and the Venetians, because you were not able alone to defend yourselves against either of these three powers, you could not do better than to make terms with the Emperor, who could defend you with arms in case of war, and in case of peace could secure you by treaties; and therefore he requested me to tell him what it was that you had asked of the Emperor when you made him your late offer.

Having replied to this, he said: “I believe it would be well that the Emperor should accord to you his guaranty, and that in return you should pay him sixty thousand ducats in three payments; the first, cash down upon the conclusion of the agreement; the second, in Italy, in two months after the first; and the third payment also in Italy, in two months after the second. That this seemed to him a reasonable arrangement, to which his sovereign and your Lordships ought to accede; that he would so write to the Emperor, whilst I should write to your Lordships.” I replied that this proposition involved three serious objections; the first, that the sum named was too large; the second, that the payments were too near together; and the third, that no place was fixed for the first cash payment, an objection which I have already explained in previous despatches. Messer Paolo made no further reply, but only asked me to write to you by three or four different routes, and said that he would aid me in sending the letters, the expense of which I was to bear. I insisted nevertheless in objecting to the payments being so near together, as well as to the other points, but could not obtain any modification of the terms except an extension of one month on the last payment. To enable him to report more precisely to the Emperor, as well as to avoid all misunderstandings, Messer Paolo asked me for a written memorandum of what I wanted, which I prepared for him; and I now enclose a copy of the same, in which our respective  demands are stated, and to which I added, besides what my instructions called for, that, in case of the Emperor’s concluding a peace with any other power, he was to provide for the safety of our Republic.

In coming back here from Innspruck I met the German courier with your Lordships’ letter of 4th March, from which I see that you enlarge my powers. But although the demands made by Messer Paolo on behalf of the Emperor are perhaps less onerous than what you authorize me to concede, yet as there was a difference as regards the time of making the payments, and as I could not induce him to yield that point, I could not conclude an arrangement with him. Your Lordships will please now to examine the whole subject, and reply to me definitely, for you know the state of things here now as fully as I do. I must also briefly inform you that in the direction of Roveredo there are not less than eight thousand, and not more than ten thousand troops, of which some two thousand are mounted men; and in the direction of Treviso there are not less than four thousand nor more than six thousand. What other troops may yet be expected there I cannot say for certain. A little while ago it was said that a considerable number of horse were expected from Austria, and two thousand infantry from Bohemia, but as yet nothing has been seen of them. Respecting the Swiss, the reports are confused; some say that those who went to Milan to serve the king of France have returned, others deny this report.

Nothing can be known yet as to what will be done by the Diet, which was to open on Sunday last. True, it is reported to have been convoked particularly for three objects: the first, to come to some definite terms with the Swiss, ambassadors from three of the Cantons having already arrived; secondly, to extend the supplies of the Empire for another six months; and thirdly, to induce the Suabian League to concur in this war by extraordinary contributions. I do not think it will be possible to know what the Swiss will do; as to the supplies to the Empire, I do not believe there will be any difficulty; and as to the support of Suabia against the Swiss, that was already had during the eight months of the last war, and for this purpose they keep seven thousand men constantly under arms. What they will now do, and whether they will have more consideration for the Venetians than for the Swiss, on account of their  commercial interests, that is not known; and even after the conclusion of the Diet it will be difficult to know the truth about this. As already mentioned, the Count Palatine is dead, and so is the Duke Albert of Bavaria, which is regarded as rather favorable to the Emperor’s enterprise than otherwise.

This much as regards the war. Now as to peace, especially with his Most Christian Majesty of France, that is favored by the kings of both Spain and of England, and perhaps also by the Pope; and the Legate says he has already written about it to the king of France. A few days since there arrived from Lombardy, or perhaps from France, a certain Messer Niccolo Frigio, whom the Legate had sent there for that purpose by order of the Emperor, but it is not known what he brings. It may also well be that some negotiations have been opened with the Venetians; for a certain priest Lucas has been several times in that direction. As to the relations of the other Italian powers with the Emperor, we only know that up to the present the Pope has confined himself merely to good words, and it is not likely that he will do more unless he should see somewhat more progress made by the Emperor. Nor has Ferrara given anything thus far, and for a long time the Duke did not even reply to his ambassador; I suppose that, inasmuch as he has plenty of money, he would rather wait and see a little more progress made, even at the risk of its costing him somewhat more later to make terms with the Emperor, so as to be relieved of apprehensions as to the king of France and the Venetians. I learn from a good source, that the Marquis of Mantua will declare for the Emperor whenever he can do so with safety to himself. So far as is known, the Lucchese have never sent any ambassador to the Emperor. The Siennese alone have given him any money, and the term of the second payment is running on.

Your Lordships can now take all these different speculations as to peace and war into consideration, and then determine what course to adopt, particularly as you are informed with regard to the preparations made by France and Venice, respecting which I am entirely in the dark; for ever since Machiavelli’s arrival here I have heard nothing on the subject, either by letters from your Lordships, or in any other way. You can also ascertain whether it is true that the Swiss who went to Lombardy to serve the king of France have returned from there, as has been reported, which in the event of war  would insure the Emperor’s success. You will also bear in mind how easily his Most Christian Majesty and the Venetians may be disposed to peace rather than to war, seeing the unfavorable conditions to which a war with the Emperor would expose them, being constantly obliged to think of defending themselves at the expense of much treasure, without being able in turn to attack him because of the nature of the country and the Emperor’s adherents; so that, even if the Emperor’s affairs were very low, he might still be able to obtain honorable terms of peace from them. After having well weighed all these points, your Lordships will, I trust, reply, and instruct me what to do, whether matters remain in the same condition as at present, or whether they have changed either for better or worse. I beg you will also instruct me whether I am to act in the same way, if I learn that peace is to be made, as when I see them resolved upon war; or whether I am to act differently in either one or the other of these supposed cases. And if your Lordships are decided upon making terms, then I beg that you will not fail to send me promptly and at length the points to be stipulated, and especially those that are for your advantage. This you might communicate to me in cipher, underlining all those words which on no consideration you would have changed. In fact you might send the whole in cipher, with a blank signed by the notary before whom the ciphered communication has been written; and the deciphered despatch could afterwards be written on the blank. Your Lordships will please also think of promptly expediting the money for the first payment, without which nothing can be concluded; in fact, one day’s delay might spoil everything. By adopting the above plan I could easily conceal the cash payment under the agreement, as your Lordships charge me to do in your last letter. No other way of making the payments will be as acceptable to them here as to have them made through the Fuggers, and for this purpose you will have to arrange yourselves with the Fuggers in such manner as may seem best to you.

I must furthermore beg that in your answer to this you will instruct me, in case you deem it best not to conclude an arrangement with the Emperor, what I am to say to keep him satisfied and gain time; for it will not be possible to conceal from him the arrival of your messenger; and as it will be necessary to tell him something, I would like to have your orders  upon that point. Please also inform me what you understand by the words “in Italy,” in connection with the proposed terms above mentioned.

Your Lordships will please note that the demands made by Messer Paolo were not made by order of the Emperor, but emanated solely from him, inasmuch as he has power only to negotiate, but not to conclude anything definitely. This results probably from the fact that they imagine here that by gaining time they can shape matters to their own advantage; and that is also your Lordships’ position in the matter.

Your servant,

Francesco Vettori.

Botzen,

29 March

Francesco de Vettori

16 April, 1508

Trent

Maximilian I. Guelders

LETTER XI.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

On the 22d of March I wrote to your Lordships by Baccino, reporting at length all that had taken place since the 24th of February up to the day of my writing. I sent a partial copy of it by the German courier Iocoso, who brought me your letter of the 4th of March. By the same despatch I informed you of the demands made by Messer Paolo de Lichtenstein, and sent three copies of it by way of Venice, Milan, and Trieste. Since then, on the 1st instant, I received a despatch from Mirandola by the hands of Simone, together with a copy of your letter of the 4th and your plenary powers. Your Lordships have reason to be well satisfied with this Simone, who has really served you well. I did not give this messenger any letters in return, as he was on his way to the court, whence he has not yet returned. Although I sent copies of my despatch of the 29th ultimo by four different routes, yet I send you still another by way of extra precaution. Yesterday Piero Borgo arrived with your letter of the 17th ultimo, in which you ask to be informed upon two principal points, namely, what progress the Emperor has made with his preparations for war, and what is the state of his peace negotiations. Upon both these points you will have been entirely satisfied if you have received my letter; and in case it should not have reached you, the annexed copy will give you in great part the desired information.

Respecting events here since then I have to report, that the army, which is at Caliano in the direction of Roveredo, attacked a body of some three thousand Venetian infantry who were guarding a mountain called Brettonico, under command of Jacopo Corso, Dionisio di Naldo, and Vitello Vitelli. They had fortified themselves well in their position; still, on arrival of the Germans they fled precipitately to their intrenchments, and after burning a number of houses on the mountain they withdrew the same evening to their camp. After this the Bishop of Trent conceived the idea of attacking Riva, a castle belonging to the Venetians, and situated on the Lago di Garda. He sat down before the place first with about two thousand men under his command, and then so urged the council that they consented to send him artillery and one half of the troops from Caliano. They had been about five days before Riva, and just as orders had been given to establish batteries, two thousand Grisons, who formed a part of this force, began to say that, although they had been promised four and a half . . . . per month, they had not received more than four; and they conducted themselves so badly about the provisions that the siege had to be raised with but little credit. A portion of the troops returned to Caliano, and a portion is here; of the Grisons only about five hundred have remained, the rest have gone home. The army has been greatly enfeebled by this affair, so that I believe there are but little over seven thousand men left.

After the camp before Riva was broken up, the Venetians burnt some villas in the neighborhood; and whilst a body of some three thousand of them were about to attack and burn a villa belonging to the Comte di Agresto on the 13th instant, about three hundred of the country people fell upon the Venetians and put them to flight, having captured and killed more than a hundred of them; being altogether a most discreditable affair for the Venetians. It is reported also that the Duke of Brunswick has killed some three hundred Venetians in the valley of the Cadore towards the Trevisan territory; but the scene of action being at so great a distance I cannot vouch for the truth of this. Moreover, it is said that a large force of Venetians, having gone to attack Fiume, a place on the seacoast belonging to the Emperor, were repulsed by the people of the country and some mounted men who happened to be there, and that over a thousand of the Venetians were slain. Thus  much as regards the way in which the war is being carried on; in the annexed copy of my preceding despatch you will find an account of the number of troops engaged. Respecting the negotiations I cannot yet report anything more than what I have already said in my previous letter; for the Diet has not yet closed its labors, and the Emperor is at Ulm. As the course of the Swiss is of great importance in this enterprise, I would observe that you can obtain more reliable information upon that point than I can furnish from here; for you can ascertain whether those who went to Lombardy continue in the service of the king of France, or whether they are leaving there. It is said here that the Communes were greatly dissatisfied on account of this, and that, if these men do not immediately leave the French service, it might happen to his Most Christian Majesty as it did to the Duke of Milan, namely, that they will abandon him at the moment of going into action. But we must wait and see the end, for it is also reported, as I have already written, that three of the Cantons have furnished eight thousand men to the Emperor; and so it might well happen that there are Swiss on both sides, and that both parties may suffer in consequence.

Nothing has as yet been heard as to the league of which your Lordships speak; but I repeat that England, Aragon, and the Legate greatly desire peace with the king of France, but that the Emperor is not much disposed that way, but is inclined rather to make terms with the Venetians. About the beginning of March he sent the priest Lucas to them, who returned on the 12th, and the Emperor then sent him back to Trent with orders to wait there for further instructions, and about a week ago he went again to Venice. It is not known what negotiations are being carried on, but, on leaving, Lucas told me that we should hear some important news within twenty days. Some persons think that, if the Venetians really desire to come to terms with the Emperor, they will find no difficulty in doing so. But it is not known whether the princes who desire peace with the king of France would be satisfied in such event, and whether the Emperor may not find himself weaker after coming to an agreement with the Venetians than before; which has perhaps kept the Venetians back until now, a point which your Lordships will not fail to consider. Nor can anything positive be known respecting the negotiations until the  close of the Diet; and even then, to know the truth, it may be necessary to see some beginning of the execution of the resolves of the Diet.

It is said that the Duke of Brunswick, brother to the one who is with the army in the Trevisan territory, is coming here with one thousand horse; and the German courier who brought me yours of the 17th says that he had met about two hundred of them on the road; but everything is magnified here according to people’s opinions and hopes. After all, what we see here is just what I have written, and now repeat to your Lordships; and no one can gainsay the opinion that in reality Germany can do a great deal, and only needs the will to do it, and that will she may exercise at any hour, and therefore no one can safely form an opinion as to what will be done. On the other hand, we see that a considerable time has passed without Germany’s displaying her will, and for that reason no one can say whether she ever will do it; and yet it is evident that her honor demands more than ever that she should. And thus none but the Almighty knows how it will all terminate.

I am here at the request of Messer Paolo de Lichtenstein, and will endeavor if possible to go to the court in a few days. Meantime, I beg your Lordships to be pleased to reply promptly to the demands of Messer Paolo, bearing in mind that these matters cannot be weighed exactly as in a balance, and without a reply from you I cannot act; I also beg to remind you once more, that without the money in hand nothing will ever be concluded here.

Luca da Monte Varchi, who has been commander in your service, has come here from the camp of the Venetians, and reports their infantry as most wretched, and that it will surely prove so if ever put into the field; as in fact we have already seen, for in every encounter they have come off losers. It is reported here to-day, and the news comes direct from the council, that Genoa has revolted, and that the French are shut up in the fortresses. If this be true, it will render the Emperor’s success still more easy and assured, and your republic may possibly find that his views will be materially changed from the propositions of Messer Paolo. But your Lordships ought to know the exact truth of the matter. Valete!

Your servant,

Francesco de Vettori.

Trent,

16 April, 1508

Francesco de Vettori

30 May, 1508

Trent

Maximilian I. Guelders

LETTER XII.

Magnificent Signori, etc: —

My last of the 16th of April, which I sent by Piero, the son of the German Giovanni, will have informed you of all that has occurred here since the 19th of March to the date of that letter. I shall not reiterate it now, as it really amounted to nothing of importance. Since then the Germans have raised the siege of Riva, about which I wrote you in my last; their infantry are pretty much disbanded, and their cavalry, numbering about twelve hundred, and which really never amounted to more although their number had been greatly exaggerated, have returned here. Thereupon the Venetians attempted on Easter morning to sieze Pietra, a place about six miles from here, thinking they could take it by assault, and having perhaps an understanding with persons within the place. But the Germans came to the rescue with some mounted men and about twenty-five hundred infantry that had remained, and obliged the Venetians to withdraw. The Germans have endeavored to raise fresh infantry since then, and on the 10th instant they had already some six thousand together.

Subsequently the Venetians attacked the castle of Cresta, which commands a most important pass. The Germans went to the assistance of the place, but arrived too late, the lord of the place having already surrendered it. The Germans thereupon moved their camp to Caliano, a burgh about a bowshot’s distance from Pietra; their force consisting of about six to seven thousand infantry, and about one thousand horse; the troops of the Duke of Würtemberg, numbering about two hundred effective horse, having returned home at the beginning of the month. The Venetians, anxious to have Pietra, established their army, consisting of about four thousand effective horse and over sixteen thousand infantry, about a quarter of a mile from the place, and began a siege of the place by planting batteries of sixteen pieces of artillery. This fortress of Pietra is situated at the foot of a mountain on the right in coming from Roveredo here. A very strong wall runs out from the fortress to the length of about a bowshot, to the river Adige; half-way down there is a gate in this wall, through which persons may pass. It is alike difficult and dangerous  to attack Trent without having first secured this pass; and therefore the Venetians employed their entire force in the attempt. The armies were about a mile distant from each other, each having the fortress and the wall in front of them, with the Adige on the one hand and the mountain on the other, and in the rear their respective places of retreat. But as the Germans were masters of the fortress, as well as of the wall, the Venetians found themselves in a position where they could not avoid an engagement, if the Germans were disposed to give them battle; which nothing prevented them from doing except their lack of sufficient cavalry; for of the infantry they made but little account. The Venetians opened a heavy fire of artillery upon the Germans, killing a good many; but finally the Germans attacked the guard that was protecting the Venetian artillery, routed them, and captured two of their guns and disabled the others, whereupon the Venetians broke up their camp, and retired to Roveredo, where they are still on this 20th of May.

So soon as the German infantry perceived that the Venetians had retreated, they began themselves to disband, so that persons coming from there report that not more than three thousand infantry were left at Caliano; and that besides the Duke of Brunswick’s cavalry, which had already gone home, that of Saxony, Nuremberg, Ulm, and that of a number of smaller lords having from eight to ten horses each, all went home, so that the Germans have to-day full six hundred mounted men less than what they had before. Such is the result of military operations here; but your Lordships must know that in the Friuli the Venetians have taken Goritz, Pardanone, Trieste, — in a word, all the places in that district belonging to the Emperor, who really never had sufficient troops there to offer any serious resistance to an enemy. In truth, he never had there more than four hundred horse, and some four to five thousand infantry, that had been sent there by Austria and Carinthia, and who after remaining a couple of days went away again for want of money. It is in this wise and with such forces that the war is being carried on here.

Now as to the negotiations, and more particularly the proceedings of the Suabian Diet. The Emperor assembled the chiefs at Ulm on the third or fourth Sunday of Lent, and laid his necessities before them, as already written. These chiefs  were to return home and submit the matter to their constituents, and then to come back here and report their decisions on the eighth day after Easter. This day is now past, but it is not known what has been done, nor where the Emperor is at this time; some say that he has gone to Cologne to attend the creation of a new bishop, the old one having died, but I cannot aver this positively. Others say that he has gone to Mayence to settle some differences that have arisen between the Archbishop there and the Landgrave of Hesse respecting their boundaries. Others again say that he has gone to the duchy of Guelders to compose matters there, and some maintain that he has gone to Calais to meet the king of England in relation to the marriage of Madame Marguerite, and to borrow money from that sovereign on a pledge of certain jewels.

I came here at the request of Messer Paolo de Lichtenstein, after he had made the proposition which I communicated to you. Not receiving any answer thereto from your Lordships, I wanted to leave here, or at any rate send Machiavelli home, but was not permitted to do either. This, however, did not prevent my using every effort to find out what was going on at Ulm, and I therefore sent Baccino there. I had previously sent another messenger to a friend of mine at the place where the Cardinal is, and which friend is in the habit of writing to me all that I could learn if I were on the spot myself. I am in hourly expectation of a reply from him, and should it come in time I will communicate it to you. As things are, and being obliged to be either here at Trent or at Ulm, I do not deem it at all unfortunate that I should happen to be here rather than there; for being here I have not been obliged to depend upon others for information respecting certain important matters, having witnessed them myself, whilst, if I had not been here, I should never have heard the truth upon certain points, and upon others I should have heard a thousand lies. I think that I fully understand the resolutions of the Diet, for, seeing the Imperial troops all returning home at the expiration of their six months’ term of service, the natural inference is that the Diet has refused the Emperor an extension of supplies for another six months; a matter which I should have supposed could easily have been obtained, and which nevertheless has not been accomplished. Thus, according to what we see, the burden of this war falls mainly upon the shoulders of the  county of Tyrol; for with the exception of the cavalry, all the troops have been raised and supplied by the localities that have sent them. And as the Friuli has not such rich and amiable neighbors, it has remained undefended, for it is said that Austria has never been willing to send a single man there. It is in this feeble way that matters here are conducted thus far; and should any one from inclination or from want of faith in my statements think differently, then let him come himself, or send some one in whom he has faith, and if what he sees seems to him wise and good, then I will take back all I have written too strongly.

The chiefs of the Tyrol assembled about ten days since at Botzen, for the purpose of extending for three months more the supplies for ten thousand infantry for the defence of their country, as was decided in January last, when the Emperor was there. These chiefs are still together. The Swiss also sent an envoy to this council, about ten days ago, to ask for money, saying that they were ready to put eight or ten thousand men into the field, wherever the Emperor might require them. This envoy was sent to Botzen to this Diet, which he was told would not only provide the money for the ten thousand men, but would also pay the Swiss for three months’ service. It was said that the Diet was disposed to do everything that was asked and that the country was able to do; but that before taking any resolutions about it they wanted to know whether the negotiations for a truce with Venice were progressing. You must know, also, that four days ago a secretary from Venice came here to the councillors, and left again the next morning with the Bishop in the direction of Riva, there to confer with a Venetian Proveditore in relation to this truce; and yesterday evening it was reported here that the Venetians asked that the truce should hold for five years, whilst the Emperor wanted it only for four months. The former have taken until next Thursday to make their definite answer. Should I learn anything more about it before sending this off, I will not fail to inform you of it.

On the last day of the past month I received through the hands of Messer Paolo your letter of the 15th, informing me of the receipt of mine of the 29th of March. Seeing that Messer Paolo was displeased because you had not resolved upon anything definite, I made full excuse for your Lordships’ delay.  Since then Baccino arrived, on the 6th, bringing me yours of the 12th ultimo, which needs no particular reply, as it contains nothing but information, for which I am much obliged to your Lordships. Yesterday I received at the same moment, through Ortolano and Giovanni della Spada, both your letters of the 19th, but retained until the 26th; and with them the plenary powers, of which a copy had already been forwarded to me by Simone from Mirandola. I have carefully read all you write in reply to Messer Paolo’s proposition, and note that your Lordships desire me to conclude the matter in conformity with the demand, provided I should not be able to obtain better terms, and that in my judgment the Emperor would carry out his intended descent into Italy despite of the will of either of his opponents. As this matter seems now to be left to my judgment, I have thought best not to conclude it; and this decision is based, not so much upon my own opinion as upon that of your Lordships. For when I communicated in my letter of the 29th the demands made by Messer Paolo, I explained to you at the same time fully and in detail the actual condition of things here; and therefore I believe that, if it had seemed to you that under these circumstances an arrangement should be concluded on the basis of those demands, your Lordships would have so instructed me distinctly. And if it did not seem to you then that matters were in a better condition, it certainly does not appear to me so now, since the aspect of things has become rather worse; and I am sure your Lordships will think the same after reading what I have written above of the state of things here. Nor do I think that the Tyrol, which until now has mainly borne the brunt of this war, will be strong enough to carry the Emperor into Italy in opposition to the will of France and Venice; or that Germany will furnish him fresh support, when at this very time she withdraws that which she has furnished hitherto. Should it be observed that Germany is powerful and capable of great things at any time, then I reply that your Lordships know the power of Germany fully as well as I do; and if you had intended to stop at this consideration, you would have given me positive instructions to conclude the arrangement with Messer Paolo. But as you want me in this matter to be governed by things as they are, and not as they possibly might be, I have not been able to come to any other decision than the above.

As to the Emperor’s penetrating into Italy when opposed by the two above-named powers, I say that, to reduce this opposition to only one of these powers, he will have to make peace with the other, and to do this would require negotiations and time. But even if it could be done without loss of time, I could not count with certainty upon anything until the arrangements were actually concluded. And all that has been said about a truce cannot make me think that a peace could be so promptly concluded with the Venetians, for they have wounded the Emperor too deeply to be so easily forgiven by him; nor is it likely that the Venetians will at once disregard the considerations that have influenced them hitherto, namely, that France will not be disposed to ally herself with the Emperor at the very time when she sees that he feels discouraged. And the Emperor, on his part, will also be inclined to hold back, and wait to see what time may develop, of which at this moment nothing is known. As to his making peace with both of these powers, that is still less to be thought of; for as your Lordships say, and according to my judgment say most wisely, that would require a good deal of time.

And here I would observe, with all due respect, that in my opinion the same considerations as to the Emperor’s increase of strength would hold good in the event of his making peace with one of these powers as if he made peace with both. For if Germany were disposed to do her duty towards the Emperor, he would not need to make peace with either power; but were he to make peace with one of them, it would be the interest of Germany not to do her duty to him, so as to keep him feeble and obliged to lean upon her for support. And if Germany abandons the Emperor at a time when he has so many enemies against whom her support would have been most honorable to herself, and most welcome to the Emperor, she would have the more reason for abandoning him when he is supported by a stranger. For to see him become powerful by the aid of a third would arouse the mistrust of Germany, whilst it would have been a small matter for herself to have rendered this aid in a greater or less degree. Thus whichever of the two powers makes peace with him will have to assume the charge of raising and sustaining him; and thus it may well happen that you will have greater need of other protection than that of the Emperor. I shall therefore keep quiet and abide the developments  of time; and if Messer Paolo, who is at Botzen, does not come here within the next five or six days I shall go to see him; and I really hardly know what to do to avoid a rupture, for, be it said with the utmost respect, your Lordships have spun this thread so fine that it is impossible to weave it. For the Emperor is always needy, and sometimes even necessitous, and unless you take him when he is in that condition, he will demand much more of you than what he would be willing to accept now. And when in such a state of necessity the chances will be three out of four, as suggested in your instructions, that he will not carry out his descent into Italy. Still it might well be that, whilst on the one hand he finds himself in a state of necessity for the maintenance of his troops until everything is thoroughly prepared, he might very soon afterwards become quite strong; but for the reasons explained before, the preparations for such sudden increase of strength cannot be foreseen from afar. And that is the reason why I have said in previous letters that no one can tell positively beforehand that he will not pass into Italy; for Germany can and has only to exercise her will to enable him to do so. Whilst on the other hand no one can say positively that he will do so, because in reality Germany never was in favor of this enterprise, and up to the present there is no evidence that she has changed her views. Nor is it to be supposed, as I have already said, that the Tyrol alone could do it. And therefore I venture to say, with the utmost respect, that your Lordships must adopt one of two ways; either to settle the matter with the Emperor on the terms which he demands, or in the best way that it can be done, in the expectation that, if he lives, he will come into Italy anyhow, if not this year, then the next, and if not alone, then accompanied by some ally; or you must wait until he is actually in Italy, in the hope that, inasmuch as he is always and under all circumstances in need of money, you will always be in time to make terms with him, even at the risk in such case of its costing you a little more. Thus your Lordships must judge which of these two courses presents the least danger, and then adopt it resolutely, with reliance on the Almighty; for when men attempt in great matters of this kind to measure every step as with a pair of compasses, they are very apt to deceive themselves.

If in speaking thus I transcend my official duty, it is because  I feel that I have a burden on my shoulders which any man, even of the highest quality, would find very heavy. At the time when I conferred with Messer Paolo, and he made his demand, there were about eight thousand infantry and twelve hundred cavalry here; and had I then offered him, as I might have done, a sum in cash, and had he accepted it, you would be obliged to pay it now; but seeing now that the state of things here, so far from improving, has rather grown worse, your Lordships would doubtless have deemed my action as very strange. If, on the other hand, the Emperor’s troops had attacked, as they might easily have done, and routed their adversaries, the Emperor would have felt so encouraged thereby that, instead of demanding sixty thousand ducats, he would not have been satisfied except with a very much larger sum. And then I should have been blamed for the ruin of our city, not by your Lordships, but by the mass of the people; and I should have been exposed to much danger without any fault of mine. But I repeat again, that although matters are not pushed here as energetically as before, and the army is as good as disbanded, nevertheless they may at any time recover their former vigor. The army may be reorganized, if only indifferently; still it may attack and even be victorious, and all may turn out so that your Lordships may no longer be in time to effect an arrangement; and this difficulty will be increased by the fact that you will not be able to send letters of exchange in time, so as to have the money ready to be offered on the spot. This would cause a delay of at least twenty days, whilst the Emperor does not need even two days to change his mind. And you may take it for certain, as I have said before, that if the Emperor is once in the position to be able to avail himself of your money, it will encourage him to that degree that he will imagine that he has already in great part achieved the conquest of Italy. Your Lordships must know, furthermore, that my having to make a reply now without concluding a definite arrangement will very likely bring about a rupture of the whole negotiation, and may give rise to the idea that your Lordships have no intention of paying except with good words; and if such an impression once gains ground here, my stay will become entirely superfluous, and perhaps I may not even be permitted to write. As all letters pass through the hands of the Emperor’s agents here, they know that I have received the plenary powers from you; and I shall not be able to persuade them that I am still  without definite instructions respecting the demands made by Messer Paolo. They will think that I am not willing to conclude an arrangement, and I apprehend that I may be ordered from here to some out-of-the-way place, where I shall not be able to hear anything of what is going on, and where I may not even be permitted to write. And therefore I beg your Lordships, when you want to send any messenger here to me, to try and find a German familiar with the country, and experienced, who will bring your despatches with greater secrecy and safety; for I do not believe that those whom you have sent until now will be allowed to return.

Your Lordships remark that I have not written anything respecting my offer of forty thousand ducats with sixteen thousand down for the first payment. True I have not written about it, but your Lordships must know that, when Messer Paolo made his demands, he asked me whether I had ever received a reply to the Emperor’s demand for a loan of twenty-five thousand ducats. As I could not deny my not having received a reply upon that point, and matters being in that state that I was anxious to avoid exasperating Messer Paolo, I told him that your Lordships were not disposed to lend any money; but that you might possibly raise your offer to a total of fifty thousand ducats, with twenty thousand cash as the first payment, whenever the Emperor should be in an Italian town belonging at the time to some other power. This I thought was better than what your instructions had authorized me to offer, and I did not write to you about it because the demands of Messer Paolo were so much greater than my offer, both as regards amount of the first payment and the shortness of the terms for the subsequent payments, that I did not think it worth while to mention my offer; and I speak of it now only so that your Lordships may be fully informed of everything.

Machiavelli has met with an accident that may prove serious. He has great difficulty in passing his water, and the physicians here do not know whether it is caused by a stone in the bladder, or whether it is owing to an accumulation of gross humors in the blood. If the roads were open, he would have returned to Florence to subject himself to medical treatment there.

I recommend myself to your Lordships.

Servitor

Franciscus de Vectorio,
Ambassador.

Trent,

30 May, 1508

Francesco de Vettori

8 June, 1508

Trent

Maximilian I. Guelders

LETTER XIII.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

To-day, being the 7th of June, we have news that the Venetians have taken possession of Fiume, although this intelligence is not fully confirmed. Only some two hundred horse remain here; all those furnished by the Communes and other parties have returned home, their six months’ service having expired; twenty horse of the Duke of Brandenburg left this morning. Of infantry there remain here about two thousand. The truce is not yet concluded, the discussion of it not being closed, and the final decision postponed from last Thursday to next Sunday. Neither Baccino nor any other messenger has returned from the court, at which I wonder. The priest Lucas arrived here yesterday from the court, and remained over night; he has now gone to Arco to see the parties engaged in the negotiations of the truce. He says that he left the Emperor at Cologne carrying on war against the people of Guelders, and that he is besieging Croy, the Duke of which has sent him a carte blanche. Lucas also stated that the Emperor is indignant against the princes, and refuses to be present at the Diet, but has sent Lang there, which the princes regard as an outrage to which they will not submit; and that they have sent to request the Emperor to come back himself, offering to furnish him all the troops he may want, but the Emperor pretends to be indifferent about it, hoping thus to dispose the princes still more to furnish him aid; and that the Emperor is even displeased that the Venetians have not taken Trent, as that would have stirred up the resentment of all Germany. This priest Lucas says that he has really left no troops at all behind, but that at any moment some might be raised, and that he was now on his way to Arco to see whether a truce could not be concluded for three or four months, and that if this were done the Emperor would during that time make such preparations as would cause all Italy to tremble; and if a truce were not concluded, he would return with all Germany at his back.

Messer Paolo has not come here, and I have not gone to Botzen to see him, for before meeting him I wanted to see the end of these truce negotiations, which I am waiting for, so as to have a better excuse for putting off the conclusion of an  arrangement with him; for I believe that, having nothing agreeable to communicate to him, I can only gain by silence. Yesterday Piero arrived with your letter of the 17th, which, being written on parchment and concealed by Piero in a bread, where it had first become wet and then dry, it could only be got out in pieces; and consequently I could not read more than one fourth of it, and that in disconnected sentences. But from the little I have been able to read, I gather that you have again left matters here to my judgment, and that you have been informed that the troops have gone from here merely for a change, and are to be replaced by others, and that from information obtained you apprehend that the Emperor will make terms with the Venetians in conformity with some suggestions of the Pope. In answer to all this, and to begin with this reported arrangement with the Venetians, I can only say that nothing whatever is known of it here; and I really know not what more to say on this matter. As to the troops that have left here to be replaced by others, the priest Lucas reports that he has left none behind him; and it is so long since the troops began to leave here that, if they were intended to be replaced by others, some of these new ones would ere this have arrived here. I believe, however, that all things are possible, and that Germany is able to send both troops and money; but I regard it as a bad sign to see the troops leaving from the time when they were encamped at Pietra, and when they were daily expected here; and that only so few should be remaining here at the time when negotiations are going on for a truce or peace, and when it would have been much more honorable to have had a large force here. In fact, their going home at this time seems to me proof of their having little affection, and still less respect, for the Emperor.

Now, as to forming a judgment upon this state of things, I have in nearly all my previous letters pointed out the difficulty of my doing so, and I have again done so above; and I repeat, that these matters cannot be measured with minute accuracy. I should have gone to the court myself, or should have sent Machiavelli there if I had been free to do so; but if I had gone, I should probably have seen less than what I have been able to observe here. And had I gone and left Machiavelli here, the distance from here to the court being six hundred miles, it would have taken a month to have got a despatch, so that  during the interval a thousand changes in the state of things might have occurred. So that, as I have said above, I cannot regard it as a misfortune that I have been obliged to remain here; for a man who, under such circumstances, has to take a definite resolution, can base it with safety only upon what he sees himself; and I shall not act differently, because it is according to the dictates of reason. For even were I told by the most trustworthy persons that at the Diet held at Ulm it had been positively resolved to carry out this enterprise of a descent into Italy with one hundred thousand men, I should nevertheless not have believed it, unless I were to see it actually carried into execution; for I have seen that everybody was deceived last year by the resolution adopted with so much solemnity and general approbation at the Diet of Constanz, and which resulted in there never being as many as four hundred troops got together. For all those that were assembled in Codarno and here were supplied by the adjoining country; whilst the few that had been furnished by the Empire went off and abandoned the Emperor at the very moment of his greatest need; and according to what I see, things at present are likely to take the same course as then. And therefore I reiterate to your Lordships that I shall judge matters here only according to what I see with my own eyes, and shall take counsel only from what I shall have observed personally; for if matters are to be judged of from a distance and at random, then it were better that your Lordships should do it than myself. Nevertheless, I will say that, if matters here were to resume their former vigor, you would no longer be in time to conclude an arrangement with the Emperor at the same price and on the same conditions as now; for you may assume that the Emperor is at this moment very much down, with the water up to his throat, and nearly swamped, and has consequently lowered his pretensions very much, and he has actually forwarded my letters at his own expense; whilst formerly, when he imagined himself very strong, he tried to get tens of thousands out of you without obligating himself to anything. And were he now to get strong again, or imagine himself so, he would quickly resume his former pretensions, and to what height these reached was shown by the demands made by the Cardinal of Brixen, from which he came down step by step as he felt himself becoming weaker. And therefore I say that you ought without further hesitation to  adopt one of the two courses which I pointed out in my previous despatch, the original of which I sent you eight days ago by Giovanni della Spada, who has returned to Florence by the same route by which he came.

I have delayed sending off this despatch for a day, to see whether any definite resolution had been arrived at in the truce negotiations; for yesterday it was reported that a truce had been concluded for three years between the Emperor and the Venetians, comprising the respective allies of the contracting parties however only in Italy, and which are to be named within three months; and that the restriction of the allies to Italy was adopted solely for the purpose of excluding the Duke of Guelders. The publication of this was made yesterday in the German camp, but in this publication it was said that the truce was between the Emperor and the Venetians and their respective allies or adherents, without naming France, and without fixing any time for the naming of the adherents. It is said that it will be published here and in Verona on Sunday next.

Thus the truce is at last concluded. I may not be correctly informed as to the details, but these we shall soon know fully, and I will then immediately communicate them to your Lordships; and as the roads and passes will now be open, you will be able to decide conveniently and at your leisure what course to take; or you may send your ambassadors, or do whatever may seem best to you. Machiavelli will return to Florence in two or three days to undergo medical treatment there. I cannot with propriety retain him here. As for myself, I shall join the Emperor and there await my recall, which I crave as a favor at your hands, for I am quite unwell, and my remaining here would not be of the least advantage to your Lordships. For if you really wish to conclude an arrangement with the Emperor, you will be able to effect it with more honor and advantage through the ambassadors you have already selected. And on the other hand, if you do not intend to conclude anything, then the longer I remain here and the more the matter is discussed, the greater will be the loss. And as I could not remain at court unless subject to the control of others, your Lordships would not be able to rely upon the news you would receive from here. Thus, all things considered, I deem my remaining here as entirely superfluous; and so I recommend myself to your  Lordships. I have paid the bearer of this six ducats gold and sixteen kreutzers, so as to enable him to take horse and travel with greater speed; and I have assured him that this shall be considered merely as a payment on account, according as he shall have performed this service.

Idem Franciscus Vectori,
Ambassador.

Trent,

8 June, 1508

Niccolo Machiavelli

14 June, 1508

Bologna

Maximilian I. Guelders

LETTER XIV.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

Francesco Vettori wrote to your Lordships from Trent on the 8th of June and sent the letter by Pietro, the son of the German Giovanni, who promised to be in Florence yesterday. That despatch will have informed you of the conclusion of the truce, and of various other things that have occurred here up to the date of the despatch. By way of precaution Francesco intrusted a full copy of it to Ortolano, the bearer of the present, whom I send from here to-day, so that your Lordships may learn the sooner what Francesco has charged me to communicate to you orally, being myself detained here by my malady.

I left Trent on Saturday last, the 10th instant; but the evening previous I went to see Serentano to ask him for a passport, and he told me that he wished the ambassador to call on him the next morning. Accordingly I accompanied Francesco the following morning to see Serentano, who informed Francesco that the truce had been concluded, each party to name their respective adherents within three months, and that he wished to know whether your Lordships desired to be named by the Emperor. Francesco replied, that he could not speak for your Lordships upon that point, but would write to you at once and inform him of your reply; and that he thought that your Lordships would feel grateful for all the honors which the Emperor was disposed to show you. In answer to which Serentano said, that he ought to write promptly and obtain a reply as quickly as possible, for he had received information that the Pisans had appealed to France for aid in consequence of the attack upon them by the Florentines; and that in his judgment he thought it would not be well that the French should have begun to send  troops to them before your Lordships had decided whether or not you wished to be named as adherents of the Emperor.

I recommend myself to your Lordships.

Since writing the above, I have learned the following in relation to the truce; namely, that it has been concluded for three years between the Emperor and the Venetians nominatively; that it comprises the allies and confederates of the contracting parties respectively, named or to be named within three months. Each party to continue to hold what they possess actually at the time of signing the truce, with the right to build thereon whatever they may deem fit, and to trade in perfect security. And that it is understood that the truce extends to all the imperial towns and places, and to the allies of the Empire, but only to those in Italy, and not elsewhere. Bene valete.

Bologna,

14 June, 1508

According to the conditions of this truce the Emperor named immediately the Pope and the king of Aragon; and the Venetians on their part named the kings of France and of Aragon.

Servus

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secretary.

SECOND MISSION INTO THE INTERIOR OF THE STATE.*

Niccolo Machiavelli

16 Augusti 1508

LETTERS PATENT.

We, the Ten of Liberty and the Balia of the republic of Florence, signify to all who may see these letters patent, that the bearer of them is the excellent and discreet Niccolo, son of Messer Bernardo Machiavelli, our Secretary, whom we send to levy a certain number of infantry and to conduct them into the Pisan territory. And therefore we command all who are inscribed on the rolls of the military ordinance of our republic to render the same obedience to the said Niccolo as you would to our magistracy. And to you, rectors, officers, and subjects, we command to render him all the assistance he may need, or which he may require of you in the execution of this commission.

Mandantes, etc.

Datum in Palatio Florentino, die

16 Augusti 1508

Niccolo Machiavelli, Secretary.†

THIRD COMMISSION TO THE ARMY BEFORE PISA.*

Niccolo Machiavelli

20 February, 1509

Niccolo Capponi

LETTER I. TO NICCOLO CAPPONI, COMMISSARY-GENERAL, ETC.

Magnificent Signore: —

I send you the enclosed, which please forward at once with your usual promptness to Florence. I have nothing else to communicate to your Magnificence except that we are here at the mill of Quosi, to watch whether any new convoy of boats is attempting to come in, and to prevent it as we have done the others. I will only remind you to continue to send us bread every day, as you have done hitherto, as we rely entirely upon you for this supply.

Nothing else occurs to me to say except to recommend myself to your Magnificence, and may God guard you.

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secretary.

From our Camp,

20 February, 1509

Niccolo Machiavelli

7 March, 1509

Quosi

LETTER II.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

With the exception of Paolo Paranno and two hundred infantry, who were left to guard the camp, we moved on Monday morning with all the rest of the troops to the Figuretta, and  began to work immediately with three small barges, which the Signor Francesco, supported by about one hundred infantry, had taken the night before from the Pisans under their very gates. Subsequently, at about noon, Antonio da Certaldo arrived; but as it was already late and the piles and other necessaries were still on the beach, we could do nothing that day towards making the palisade, and therefore put it off until yesterday morning, when we returned there with the same men, and during the day we succeeded, with the help of God, in completing the stockade and placing the obstructions below the Figuretta, about one mile towards the mouth of the river. We have driven three rows of piles, fifteen in each row, binding them together with bands of iron, so that the Pisans can neither cut nor undo them. The bands of iron are all below the surface of the water, so that we think the Pisans will hardly attempt to destroy this stockade, for they could not remain there at their ease. True, they might transport some boats over land, but that would take so long that any one knowing it could easily prevent it. The obstructions are so placed that the Signor Jacopo passed twice quite easily from one side to the other, with eight of his mounted men; and whenever it is necessary to pass them the troops will need only to take fifty fascines with them, and then the army of King Xerxes himself would be able to pass. The Pisans might damage our works by cutting them, but that would require time, which they cannot safely afford, with two hostile armies after them. We shall see what course they will take.

We have met with nothing in the mountains here, although we have used our best efforts to search them thoroughly, and  shall continue to do so. I do not remind your Lordships of Giovanni Battista, being persuaded that he is already on the way; and in truth we need him very much. As to the infantry, I can say that the companies are really splendid, and as to their willingness to remain, neither Antonio’s nor Morgante’s have given me the slightest trouble. From the Pescia company only there are frequent applications for some of the men to visit their families, which I believe is in consequence of their being so near their homes. I have granted such leave to a few of the men, and these have in every instance returned on the day promised. I have reduced the companies from five hundred to three hundred, and shall be able to keep them so for two pay-days longer, as but few men are obliged to return home sooner; but after that I shall be obliged to reduce them to eighty or one hundred men, as it will then be the time for attending to the silkworms (il tempo dei bigatti), and the men cannot remain. I should propose then to disband them altogether, were it not that it would be a wrong to their colonel, who is a worthy man, as well as to the men themselves, if, in this enterprise against Pisa, in which they count upon gaining some reputation, neither he nor his banners were permitted to be seen. When that time comes, we may keep those who wish to remain, as they would then have no ground for complaining that they were either forced to remain or be disbanded; although it would be desirable if we could keep all the men, for it is a good and handsome company. These men have already earned eight days’ pay, and on the 11th of this month, which comes on Sunday next, they will be entitled to full pay, so that we must give them their money on Monday. I beg your Lordships, therefore, to arrange to have the money here, for the reasons explained in my previous letter, and now renew the request most earnestly.

A certain Bastiano, son of Ser Jacopo Orlandi, corporal of the Pescia company, asked for his discharge at the end of his term, on the ground of ill health. I gave him his discharge, as I had anyhow to dismiss two hundred men; and thereupon he went off to Pescia, and enlisted some ten or twelve men, with whom he entered the service of the Venetians, in contravention of your orders and proclamations. I have learned since then that he came near stirring up the whole company, and attempted to seduce four or six officers, promising them each  four ducats here and four more at Faenza. I mention this to your Lordships so that you may manifest your displeasure by retaining him as prisoner, and take such other proceedings as will keep your troops here in proper obedience; otherwise your orders will be derided by everybody, and everything here will end in confusion.

Messer Bandino has returned the cattle some days ago.

As previously reported to your Lordships, there was remitted to Tommaso Baldovini three hundred ducats to pay the first troops from Pescia, of which sum one hundred and eighty-three ducats were lost. The daily supply of straw has been regularly paid, amounting to more than forty ducats; the pioneers from Pistoja have been paid, with exception of their first three days. Picks and shovels have been bought: the iron bands had to be made and paid for. More than ten ducats have been expended in having the wounded gunners cared for, and to send them home. A portion of the bread purchased at Lucca has been lost; and thus we are without money, and yet we have to live. It is absolutely necessary, therefore, that your Lordships send at least two hundred ducats to the said Tommaso; for, besides the extraordinary expenses that occur daily, we have to pay every day four ducats gold, of which three are for straw for the men, and one for the twenty pioneers which we have kept out of the one hundred that came from Pistoja.

To-day there came to see me Messer Agostino Bernardi, a citizen of Lucca, sent by the Signoria of that city to represent to me that your Lordships had written them a rather severe letter, founded upon statements made by me; and therefore they wished to assure me that they would in future take all proper measures to prevent the Pisans from obtaining provisions; and that, if they had not done so hitherto, it was due to the fact that they supposed that your Lordships had taken all necessary precautions yourselves, and had so guarded every point as to prevent the Pisans from coming and going; and that in future they wished me to write to your Lordships in such manner as would tend to maintain the good understanding between the two republics, instead of destroying it. I replied, that your Lordships in coming to an agreement with Lucca had two objects in view; the first, to facilitate the conquest of Pisa, and secondly, to live in security and peace with your neighbors; and if, after concluding that agreement, it became  necessary for your Lordships alone to see to it that the Pisans did not avail themselves of the resources of the dominion of Lucca, then the first object of the treaty was done away with, and the agreement might as well not have been made, for that then it would have sufficed merely to don a cuirass to settle any trouble that might arise; and that therefore your Lordships would not be satisfied unless the Signoria of Lucca took the matter earnestly in hand, — that is to say, to prevent the Pisans from making their city an asylum, and to punish those who received them in the country, or who furnished them help or sold them any supplies, — all which things it was impossible for your Lordships to do; that this was the only way to put a stop to it, for as their subjects had nothing to apprehend from our troops in consequence of the existing treaty, and at the same time had no fear of being punished by their own magistrates, all other means were uncertain and useless, owing to the great extent of country which we would have to guard. And therefore it was absolutely necessary that they should send their commissaries to the frontiers and drive the Pisans off their territory, and chastise those who gave them asylum. If they would do this, your Lordships would be satisfied; and that then whoever might be there could only make good report of them, for the good or the bad that was written about them depended entirely on their own conduct. Messer Bernardi promised that his Signoria would do wonders, and that whatever inconvenience we had suffered in the past was caused by some indiscreet or evil-disposed official; that magistrates could bestow office upon individuals, but could not endow them with goodness or discretion, and that they had already appointed commissaries to correct the difficulty; and finally he begged me, in case of any complaints coming to my ears, to write to his Signoria before reporting it to your Lordships, so as to prevent any unfavorable impressions, and to afford them the opportunity of remedying the evil more promptly, and without causing any ill feeling. I promised to do so, and thereupon he left me.

I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Servus

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret.

From the Camp at

Quosi,

7 March, 1509

Marcellus Virgilius

20 February, 1509

Niccolo Machiavelli

COMMISSION TO NICCOLO MACHIAVELLI, RESOLVED UPON BY THE MAGISTRACY OF THE TEN ON THE 10th OF MARCH, 1509.*

Niccolo, —

We desire you on receipt of this to leave the camp and to proceed to Piombino; we have written at the same time to the commissaries to provide some one in your place with the army, either by selecting one of their own number, or in such other way as they may think best. Our object in sending you to Piombino is as follows. You have probably heard that the lord of Piombino sent to us a certain Giovanni Cola, one of his officers of the court, to inform us that the Pisans had manifested to him a disposition to settle their difficulties with us; and therefore he wished us to grant to some of them a safe-conduct that would enable them to come there for the purpose of negotiating, etc., and that we should send some one there with power to negotiate and conclude an arrangement with them. We have granted the desired safe-conduct, with which three of their citizens left Pisa, whose names we append hereto. The said Giovanni Cola returned here yesterday, and as his safe-conduct was nearly expired he urgently requested us to prolong it for the whole month, and we have reluctantly extended it until the 20th instant. He moreover urged us with great earnestness to send some confidential man, alleging that the Pisans would not explain themselves, nor come to any particulars upon any point unless some confidential person were present on our part. Now, as all these demonstrations seemed to us mere pretexts for gaining time, we have decided, for the purpose of finding out once for all the real truth of this matter, to send some discreet person there, who will manage to do it  with the least possible display; and therefore we desire you to go there with all possible despatch, and when you have arrived near the lord of Piombino with our letters of credence, which you will receive herewith, you will state to him that you have been sent there in accordance with his own request, and to learn whether the Pisans who are there have orders and sufficient authority to enable them to conclude an arrangement. You will ask his Lordship whether he has seen these powers, and request him to show them to you, and if there are none, then you are instructed to return immediately; and in that case, you will leave without entering upon any discussion respecting this negotiation. But if his Lordship of Piombino should be of the opinion that the Pisans are really in earnest about this negotiation, and you come to the same conclusion, then you may open yourself further to his Lordship and inquire most particularly of him what it is that the Pisans want; and you will endeavor to learn all the particulars that you possibly can. Also point out to his Lordship that it is only necessary for him to hear the Pisans, as on our part we demand but one thing, and that is Pisa free, with all its territory and jurisdiction, the same as before the rebellion. According as you may find things, you will advance step by step, giving us immediate advice of all that occurs. In short, our intention is to try this expedient, so as not to miss any occasion that might prove of advantage to us. On the other hand, however, we are not willing to compromise our dignity or honor, nor encourage the Pisans by showing ourselves too anxious; for in truth we apprehend that this whole affair is nothing but an artifice on the part of the Pisans to gain time, and to employ this delay in some way to their own advantage.

Apart from the list which we send you, you will endeavor to find out whether all the Pisans who have left their city with a safe-conduct are at Piombino; for if they are not, it would be a sign that they wanted to leave for the purpose of going elsewhere; and you may make this observation to his Lordship, as an indication that the Pisans have really no intention to come to terms. Should you be asked for a further extension of the safe-conduct, you will make them understand clearly that they will not obtain any extension, not even for two hours.

Decemviri Libertatis et Baliæ Republ. Flor.

Ego Marcellus Virgilius.

Niccolo Machiavelli

15 March, 1509

Piombino

LETTER III.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I left the camp on Monday, and arrived here at Piombino yesterday at the twentieth hour; and half an hour later I called upon his Lordship, and communicated to him what your Lordships had commissioned me by your instructions. He replied, that he had had negotiations for some time past with the Pisans to induce them to make terms with your Lordships; that his great desire was the tranquillity of Tuscany, and most particularly the good of your Lordships, whose servant he professes to be; that it was for the purpose of urging this negotiation that he had advised the Pisans through his confidential agent, Giovanni Cola, to send ambassadors here to confer with your envoys so as to arrive at some satisfactory arrangement; that he had made it a point to advise them to give their ambassadors power to treat of the sovereignty of their state, as without such power he knew it would be useless to enter into any negotiations. And after that he had advised your Lordships to grant a safe-conduct to these Pisan ambassadors, and to send some one here to treat with them; that your Lordships had consequently given the safe-conduct, but for so short a time and on such ambiguous terms as would make it better to break off the negotiations rather than endeavor to conclude an arrangement; that as your envoy had not arrived, and the safe-conduct was about to expire, he had, in his desire not to see the negotiation broken off, again applied for a prolongation of the safe-conduct, and had urged your sending an envoy here, but that the prolongation which you had accorded was for so short a time as to preclude the possibility of coming to any conclusion. From all these remarks, it was evident to me that the Signor of Piombino was under the impression that your Lordships mistrusted him; but he concluded by saying that he did not know whether the Pisan ambassadors had full powers or not, although the only thing they had communicated to him was that they had ample authority to treat and to conclude an arrangement; and that he inferred from this expression that they could treat with you in relation to the sovereignty of Pisa, as well as about any other matter that might come up between them and your Lordships; but that they had never been willing to tell him the  exact object for which they had come to negotiate, nor to communicate to him any details. All this his Lordship confirmed with his oath, adding that he had been so angry with them in consequence that he had been on the point of sending them back. But finally he wanted to persuade me that it would be as well for me to hear what they had to say, as that would involve neither loss of time nor anything else. I replied that, as I wanted to conform strictly to your Lordship’s orders, there was nothing left for me but to remount and return; and I should have done so, but that, according to your Lordships’ instructions, I was to find out as far as possible what the Pisan ambassadors really wanted, provided that in my judgment they were serious in their desire to treat. But I could form no opinion on this point, as the Signor of Piombino had told me that he knew nothing of their intentions; unless, therefore, I heard them myself, I could not possibly find out their particular object, nor whether they really intended to treat with us.

I was moreover persuaded of the truth of the remark of the Signor of Piombino, that the mere hearing of what they had to say would neither give them courage nor time. For their safe-conduct held good anyhow until the 20th, and to listen to them would deprive them of all pretext for complaining to their people and the world at large that so solemn an embassy as theirs had been refused a hearing by your Lordships, which they would have held up as an evidence of your unfriendly disposition towards them, which is their only means of keeping up the excitement of the Pisans. Having consented, therefore, to see the ambassadors, with the understanding that I had done so merely to gratify the lord of Piombino, they came, and after a long preamble they complained that it had been promised to them that they should meet two or three of your citizens to treat with them, instead of which a mere secretary had come, and even he did not come direct from Florence. And finally, coming to the point, they said that the people of Pisa were disposed to do all that your Lordships wanted, for the sake of peace and union, provided they were assured of their lives, their property, and their honor. That they had no further instructions for this purpose; but even if they had a thousand others, the subject was one of such supreme importance that they could not venture to conclude anything without fresh instructions from their superiors. To the first part of their  remarks, I replied as seemed to me proper; but as to the second part, I turned towards the lord of Piombino, saying that I made no reply, inasmuch as the ambassadors had really said nothing, and if they wanted a reply from me they would have to make some definite proposition. To this they answered that they had said enough in asking security for their lives, their honor, and their property. Whereupon I said that I could make no reply unless they stated what kind of security they required, and if their demand for security was reasonable and honorable it would not be wanting, inasmuch as your Lordships asked nothing more of them than obedience, and cared nothing about their lives, nor their property, nor their honor.

After discussing this question of security for some time, they finally came to this point, namely, that they had thought of various ways of having this security, but had found none other than this: namely, that your Lordships should leave them all within the walls of Pisa, and take for yourselves all the remainder of their dominion; and that they considered it a great gift for you to obtain a just title to so much that you had never possessed before. Thereupon I turned to the lord of Piombino and said: “It must be evident to your Lordship now that these gentlemen are not in earnest, but are merely laughing at you; for I believe that if they had said this at first, and you had supposed them to be in earnest, you would have declined the trouble of intervening in a matter that would have resulted in this. But since matters have come to this point, and so that your Lordship and the people of Pisa may fully know our intentions, and that you and they may know how this negotiation will have to be managed, I tell you that if you do not intend to put into our hands Pisa unrestricted, with all her territory and jurisdiction, the same as before the rebellion, it will be useless for you to come here or elsewhere for the purpose of negotiating an arrangement, or to give so much trouble to the lord of Piombino, or any one else. And the same as regards the demand for security for your lives, your fortunes, and your honor; if you are not disposed to rely upon the good faith of my Signoria, it will be equally useless for you to weary any one to bring about an agreement, for the good faith of my Signoria has never yet required a bondsman; and should it ever need one, none could be found that would be sufficient. But your most certain  and real security will ever depend upon the loyalty with which you throw yourselves into the arms of my Signoria.” And then I enlarged upon this in such terms as I thought would be most effective in moving them; after which I turned towards the deputies of the country people, and said that I felt sorry for their simplicity; that they were playing a game at which they could not win, for if the Pisans should carry off the prize in this contest they would not want the country people any longer as their companions, but as slaves, and would send them back to their ploughs. But if, on the other hand, Pisa were taken, which they might expect at any hour, then they would lose their properties, their lives, and everything else. At this Messer Federigo del Virajo began to cry out that I was trying to create a division amongst them, and that what I had said was not proper language for me to hold. The country deputies never said a word, but seemed to relish my remarks, and particularly what I had said in the course of the interview, “that if the Pisans did not want peace, they would have war, and more of it than they cared to have.” Giovanni da Vico said twice, in a loud and resolute manner, “We want peace, we want peace, ambassador!” And the lord of Piombino spoke to the Pisan ambassadors in a loud and angry voice, saying that they had deceived him, etc.

And thereupon I left, saying to his Lordship that I would return to the camp promptly the next morning, and that, if night had not come on during our discussion, I should have left that very evening. His Lordship remained with the Pisan ambassadors for at least two hours later, and at three o’clock of the night he sent me word that he wished to speak with me in the morning before my departure. At two o’clock this morning he sent for me, and told me that, after my leaving the ambassadors in the evening, he had washed their heads for them as they deserved; so that they told him that they would reflect during the night whether there was not some way for them to obtain the desired security, and that they hoped yet to arrive at some satisfactory conclusion. And that they had come this morning to tell him that they had thought of a middle course which they thought would please your Lordships, and which might also prove acceptable to their own people; but that they could not mention it to him until after having first submitted it to the authorities of Pisa, and therefore  they intended to return there, either all of them, or half their number, as he thought best, so that they might come back with some definite proposition.

His Lordship added that he had advised them to send only a part of their number back to Pisa, because he thought it best not to break the thread of this negotiation, but that after all he had advised them to do in this matter whatever I thought best. I replied to his Lordship, that I was of the contrary opinion, and that it seemed to me they ought all to go, for possibly your Lordships might not be willing to extend the safe-conduct, in which event the remaining here of a part would lead to a more complete rupture than if they had all returned to Pisa. “Let them go back, then,” said I, “and let them dispose their people to do what I told them yesterday. Let them get full power, and send it to your Lordship with such propositions as they may determine upon, and then we shall not fail to believe them, and they may thus effect some good.” His Lordship, however, adhered to his opinion, as though he had conceived a great jealousy lest your Lordships should not be willing that this negotiation should be carried on here, so that he said to me: “See now, and undeceive your Signori, and make them understand that this negotiation will either come to no conclusion, or that it will have to be concluded here; I understand very well why you advise the return of all the ambassadors to Pisa, so as to remove the negotiations from here.” I did my best to undeceive him upon this point, and did not leave him until he had positively decided to send them all back.

I then returned to my lodgings, and was on the point of mounting my horse, when Messer Giovanni Cola came and told me that his Lordship had informed the Pisans that it was best for them all to leave; to which, however, they did not agree, as they wanted that at least two of their number should remain, namely, Messer Federigo dal Vivajo, and Filippo di Puciarello; whereupon I told him, “You see now that my Signoria judged rightly that these ambassadors first deceived his Lordship of Piombino, and then wanted to carry on these negotiations in Pisa; and it was only for the purpose of discovering their real intentions that I advised his Lordship to send them all back.” He replied that his master was very angry about it, and had protested to them that they need not expect another  safe-conduct from you, as he would not ask for it, and that the ambassadors had replied to him that they would take such measures as they were able to; and thereupon I left. I shall stop to-night at Allumiera, and on Sunday or Monday I hope to be with your Lordships. I have written this despatch so that you may know as promptly as possible all that has taken place here. The courier has promised to deliver this in Florence on Saturday at dinner-time, and if he does so your Lordships will please pay him one florin, which I have promised him.

I have not been able to verify the list of all the Pisans that came here with the ambassadors, owing to the shortness of the time. But I have talked with Rubertino about it, and he told me that they were all here; and my servants who waited with them at the door of the audience-chamber told me that there was a crowd of one hundred and sixty or more.

I recommend myself to your Lordships.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret.

Piombino,

15 March, 1509

Antonius de Filicaja

14 April, 1509

St. Jacobus

Niccolo Machiavelli

LETTER IV.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I wrote to your Lordships yesterday, and reported all that had taken place here till then. This morning there arrived from Pisa Finichietto di Casentino, one of those who were made prisoners with Canaccio; he came here on behalf of all these to recommend themselves, and to inform me that they had heard in Pisa the resolution which your Lordships had taken with regard to the brother of Alfonso,* and that they had been assured that, if Rafaello were hung, they would all be put to death. They begged me, moreover, to send them some money to enable them to live, as they were utterly without any resources.  I sent him back to Pisa, and gave him money enough to support him and his companions for some days; and as to their apprehensions I reassured him the best way I knew how. Since then the priest who has officiated in Pisa during Lent left that city, accompanied by a number of monks. On arriving at the barriers I made them all return to Pisa, excepting the priest, whom I kept for good reasons. I have gathered from him a full account of everything that has occurred there from the time of his going to preach there, which in substance amounts to this: that the Pisans cannot hold out any longer, that their sufferings are much greater than what they avow, and that they are far from being united in coming to any good resolution, for the reason that the government is in the hands of the bad; whilst the better-disposed portion of the inhabitants are very desirous of coming to terms with the Florentines. This priest furthermore states, that at his departure from Pisa four of the citizens, whose names will be given below, have charged him to see whether it be not possible to arrive at some arrangement; and that they claim the following as the main conditions, viz. 1st, full amnesty for the past; 2d, security for the observance of the same; and 3d, the assurance that, if they deliver the city and all its territory freely into our hands, and swear perpetual fealty, which they say was never done by their ancestors, they want to have the same privileges as some other cities in your Lordships’ dominions; and that if any hopes of this were held out to them, they would within a few days send envoys to present themselves at your Lordships’ feet. He said that he would like to be able to write to the Pisans what I thought of their project; but this I refused him, because the Pisans had refused to accept your Lordships’ grace at the time when you were willing to accord it to them, and by their wicked proceedings had added evil to evil, and that therefore they must not think of anything except that your Lordships are resolved to have Pisa either by consent or by force, and that they would very soon see the proof of this.

After hearing my reply, the priest said: “Since your Signori have decided upon this course, let them at least act so that the Pisans may soon see the beginning of it; for they are reduced to that point that their endurance can go no further. Only yesterday, a body of over three hundred went to the Palace of the Ancients, crying aloud, ‘We are dying of hunger; the help which you told us you were expecting has not come, and we cannot have patience any longer!’ They were dismissed with fine words, and promises that within four days some definite action should be taken, and that they must content themselves until then; and that orders would be issued this morning that there should be bread and grain in the marketplace; but there was none yesterday, and the price of corn rose to twelve lire per bushel.”

I wanted to make this state of things known to your Lordships; and so far as I have been able to learn from others, the Pisans can hold out no longer. If we continue to press them as we have begun, and they begin to see that we can reach them with our artillery, then there will be no occasion to resort to any other means, and your Lordships will have brought this long war to an end in a manner most honorable to our Republic. If I hear nothing more from the Pisans, I shall cut short all further parleying, unless your Lordships instruct me otherwise. I have learned that no grain has come into Pisa for four days; it is this that drives them to desperation, whilst we, on our part, shall continue, with the aid of our infantry and cavalry, to do everything to prevent any provisions from entering the city.

To-day we have heard of the death of Paolo da Paranno;* may God receive his soul! for he gave his body to your Lordships. I recommend his children to your Lordships, which I promised him I would do in case the Almighty should dispose of him; his goodness and loyalty make this whole camp deplore his loss.

Niccolo Machiavelli left here to-day, and has gone to inspect the infantry at the other camps. I have charged him to come back here afterwards, in accordance with your Lordships’ instructions; indeed, nothing could be more agreeable to me than to have him here with me.

I have nothing more to communicate to your Lordships to-day, but to recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Antonius de Filicaja,*
Generalis Commiss.

From the Camp near

St. Jacobus,

14 April, 1509

Niccolo Machiavelli

16 April, 1509

Mezzana

LETTER V.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I will answer first your Lordships’ letter of the 12th, in which you desire to know the number of troops in each camp, and how many of the regular troops, infantry and other service, ought in my judgment to be changed; also, that I should fully advise you upon every point. In reply I have to say, that since leaving Florence I have not yet been able to visit the camp at San Piero in Grado, and can therefore give you no account of that; but as to the other two camps, I will now report the condition in which I found them. In the camp of the Val di Serchio, where Antonio di Filicajo is the commissary, there are the following troops, viz. 1st, the priest of Citerna, with 250 men from Fivizzano; 2d, Giovanni Agnolo da Monterchi, with the contingent from Castiglione del Terzieri, numbering 150 men; 3d, Giannesino da Serezzana, with the men of Casentino, being 130; of the original number of 150 twenty were lost by the treason of Alfonso del Mutulo; 4th, Morgante dal Borgo, with 100 men from the Val di Cechina; 5th, Antonio da Castello, with the 100 men from Firenzuola; — making a total of 730 men. Then there are Giannone da Librafatta and Gianotto da Cardo, with 60 men; the Signori Francesco and Giulio del Caccia, with 100 men; and finally, Bernardo da Carrara, who guards the fortress; so that, leaving out Bernardino, there remain to Antonio fit for service 890 men.  The said Antonio had, moreover, Dietajuti, with 100 men from Valdinievole, which brought his command up to 1,000 men. But Niccolo Capponi, imagining himself to be too isolated and feeble, asked Antonio for the loan of a constable until he could be supplied from Florence; and so he sent him Dietajuti, who was here; and I believe that Niccolo will rather send him in return one of the constables that are again reported to be on the way here, than to give him back Dietajuti, who, as well as his company, is familiar with the country, whilst any newly arrived men are unacquainted with the localities. The other troops under command of Antonio have also a good knowledge of the country, from having been schooled in it for two months. In truth, the whole of Antonio’s infantry is as good and handsome, in my judgment, as any other in all Italy at the present day.

Besides Dietajuti, who is not yet quite sure of remaining, we have here the company of Anghiari, without any captain; the men have declared that they will not leave here; on the other hand, Alamanno refuses to send Ronzino here. We will see how we can settle this in the best way, so soon as the troops that are destined for this camp shall have arrived at Cascina. This company of Anghiari counts about 110 men; 2d, there are here the infantry of Pieve, numbering about 180 men; 3d, the infantry of Bibbiena, 186 in number; 4th, the men of Pontessieve, under command of Agnolona, being 112 strong; and finally there are 80 fusileers here, who, added to the others, and not counting Dietajuti’s men, make 668 enlisted regular troops. Of inexperienced troops we have, 1st, Carlo da Cremona with 100 men; 2d, Daino and Gattamelata with 60 men; 3d, Morello with 40, and the son of Sannicia Corso with 40; which makes a total of 908 without Dietajuti; so that if you send 200 infantry here, as I understand is to be done, we shall have in all over 1,100 men, not counting Dietajuti; and if he remains with Antonio, or another be sent in his place, then Antonio will also have his full 1,000 men.

The way to prevent the number of our regular troops from diminishing is, whenever eight or ten per cent of them are absent, either from sickness or any other cause, to send the constable and his chancellor into his circumscription, there promptly, and by the use of his and your Lordships’ authority and that of the rectors, to raise and send here the number of  men that are wanting. And then to make it a rule that the commissaries shall not grant leave of absence to any except such as are really sick; and to punish those who absent themselves without leave, or who disobey, either here or at Florence, or at their own homes, or wherever it can be done. In this way the companies will be kept full and complete without any further trouble. I do not see what troops I could disband, or which to call to replace them, unless in a case of necessity, and then in the manner indicated. And if your Lordships send the money for the pay of the troops in time, I will do my best to save all trouble on that account.

Your Lordships have written me another letter on the 14th, in which you direct me to fix my residence at Cascina, and to order that there be always some eight or ten men under a chief kept in garrison there, with provisions for at least two weeks; and to collect there all the ammunition of lead and balls that has been provided. This letter of yours was found at Cascina by Francesco Serragli, who after reading it sent it to me here yesterday. But as I was here, and not at Cascina, your Lordships will see that I could not have complied with your instructions. I read the letter to Niccolo Capponi, who promised me to answer it to your Lordships. It seems from that letter that your Lordships intend I should fix myself at Cascina; but I do not think this would answer a good purpose, as that post can be filled by any man, no matter of what qualifications; whilst if I remained there, I could be no longer of any service to the army here, nor be in any other way of use here. I am aware that that post would expose me to less danger and fatigue, but if I wanted to avoid danger and fatigue I should not have left Florence; and therefore I entreat your Lordships to allow me to remain in the camps to co-operate with the commissaries in all the measures that have to be taken. For here I can make myself useful, but at Cascina I should not be good for anything, and should die of sheer desperation. I beg your Lordships, therefore, to think of some one else for that post, if Serragli is not willing to remain there, although I think him the most suitable man for the place.

Allow me to remind your Lordships of the pay of Paolo Antonio and his men, who are guarding the forts of Cascina and of the Verruca.

I shall finish the pay of all the regular infantry now at this  camp, and will then immediately send you the accounts. I have nothing else to communicate to your Lordships at this time, for their Magnificences the Lords Commissaries will have written to you in relation to the more important matters, and to that I must refer for the present; nevertheless, the moment I have the time, I shall not fail to make a full report on that subject to your Lordships. Valete!

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret.

From the Camp at

Mezzana,

16 April, 1509

Niccolo Machiavelli

21 April, 1509

San Piero in Grado

LETTER VI.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

Three days ago I left the camp at Mezzana for that of the Val di Serchio in company with Arcangiolo da Castiglione, who serves in Antonio’s camp in place of Dietajuti. Your Lordships will therefore erase the name of Dietajuti from the roll of Antonio’s camp and transfer it to that of Niccolo’s, and place the name of Arcangiolo upon the roll of Antonio’s camp. In this way the latter will be complete, and Niccolo will require nothing except that Cerchio shall come here to serve under him with the companies which he has here, and to retain the remainder of the company of Anghiari. On the arrival here this morning of the lord commissary with the 100 men from the Val di Chiana, I spoke to him about the troops that are here, and he replied that he could not do with less than 750 regulars, and that therefore he could not see how Cerchio could be detached and sent to Mezzana, as the required number would with Cerchio’s men be exceeded by but a very few. For Agnolo da Citerna with the lately arrived has 189 men; Sana has 45, the rest of his company being at Livorno; Cerchio has 94; Captain Piero, 70; Bastiano the fat, 80; and Bastiano the lean, 300; all of which together make up the number of 778; but taking away Cerchio with his 94 men would leave him less than 700. On thinking now how this matter can be arranged so that Cerchio can be sent to Niccolo without breaking up the companies, and at the same time to guard  Livorno, his Lordship has concluded that it could be effected in the following way, viz. — To bring Sana’s entire company here, which is 80 strong, to send 40 of the fat Bastiano’s company to Livorno, and to discharge the rest, as a large number of them wish to return home; and then to add 70 men to Sana’s company, which he will send one of his captains to levy in the Mugello, and which thus gives him 150 men. To add also enough to Captain Piero’s fusileers to bring the present number up to 100, which he will send his chancellor to levy. Agnolo da Citerna to remain here with his 189 men, and Bastiano the lean with his 300; and then Cerchio could be sent to Niccolo Capponi. There would then be at this camp 739 ordnance troops, after the arrival of the 70 new men for Sana and the 30 for Captain Piero, not counting Cerchio’s company. And if your Lordships, on the arrival of Sana’s and Captain Piero’s agents, will expedite them promptly, then this whole affair will be quickly arranged. The infantry of these camps will then be complete, and everybody will be satisfied. On next pay-day the commissary will discharge 40 of the fat Bastiano’s company, and send the other 40 to Livorno, where this company without a captain will be better placed, whilst the others will remain with their constables. I do not believe that any better way will be found to satisfy these commissaries. Alamanno will therefore despatch these agents with letters to your magistracy, and your Lordships will please give them prompt despatch.

I shall remain here two days and then return to Antonio’s camp, after which I shall proceed to Niccolo’s camp, so as to be present at the next pay, the funds for which, according to the memorandum left by me with Niccolo, ought to be here by the 27th of this month, as all the companies have to be paid from the 28th to the 30th instant. I will then send your Lordships the accounts as soon as I can, say within four days, and which want of time has prevented me from doing sooner.

I recommend myself to your Lordships.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret.

From the Florentine Camp at

San Piero in Grado,

21 April, 1509

Alamanno Salviati

23 April, 1509

San Piero

LETTER VII.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

This is merely to inform your Lordships that the pay of the lately arrived ninety-three men from Fojano runs from the 14th to the 25th, and that the money for it ought to be here by the 25th, as also the money for the pay of the artillerists and of the troops that are not counted as regulars by the constables. For all this three hundred ducats are required; and if your Lordships desire to make the third payment also, then it will be necessary to send the entire amount due to the constables, and I will give it to them in time. But sending only one third of a pay at a time causes confusion; for so soon as the time for the pay has come, and you are not ready at every moment with pen in hand to remind each of his account, they will be constantly after you, and yet will not find their money ready for them. I beg your Lordships, therefore, to send the money due to the supplementary force from the Val di Chiana; also for an entire pay of all the constables, so as to avoid the confusion above referred to. I shall also need the money for the pioneers to-morrow; and will send you by the first courier the accounts of the money I have had until now. It was intended to employ two hundred pioneers to devastate the country around the camp; but it seems now that it will be better to employ four hundred, so as to be able to do the work in two evenings, and thus get through the sooner with this business, which is very important, as we have to leave the camp almost entirely unprotected; and the more rapidly one proceeds in this sort of things the more securely it is done, for the men have to go up to the very walls of the town, where they are exposed to the fire of the artillery. I recommend myself to your Lordships.

Alamanno Salviati,
Commissary-General.

From the Camp at

San Piero,

23 April, 1509

Niccolo Machiavelli

18 May, 1509

Pistoja

LETTER VIII.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I arrived here yesterday evening, and have conferred with his Magnificence the Captain respecting the supply of bread. He made me talk with the deputies of the Priors charged with the supervision of the government shops for the sale of bread, etc., and with a certain Betto Baroni with whom these deputies have made a contract. The deputies told me that they had paid Betto thirty ducats this month, in consideration of which he had obligated himself to supply the camp at his risk of profit or loss; and that they did not know what could have given rise to the disorders, saying that Betto had done his duty. The latter, who was present at the interview, said that under his contract with Antonio he was obliged to send daily thirty to forty measures of bread to the camp, and that he had regularly done so; and that the deficiency was owing to the people of the Val di Nievole, on whom the commissaries had counted; but if the commissary wished, he would supply the camp daily with one hundred measures, which was about the quantity daily consumed, at a suitable price and weight. But in that case the commissary must give orders, either that no bread shall come from elsewhere, or, if it does come, shall not be sold until his is disposed of, as he does not want to be obliged to throw his bread away. I for my part believe that if not more than thirty or forty measures of bread are sent from here every day, and that they have to depend for the rest upon what may be supplied by the people of the Val di Nievole, the camp will frequently be exposed to scarcity; for I have myself experienced the way in which these communes act, sending large supplies one day and nothing the next. In fact, they cannot well do differently, having no grain in store at home, but being obliged to buy their supply of grain here. I imagine that Antonio has not allowed these to supply all, because perhaps the bread seemed to him not to have full weight; but the deputies have promised me to remedy this by establishing proper means for weighing the bread, etc. at the sutler’s shop. Another point in connection with this matter is that the Quartermaster-General has no profit from the bread supplied by the contractor, whilst from the other he has six quattrini per load, and therefore he  has always persuaded Antonio to get his supplies by way of Pescia rather than by way of Pistoja. I shall see Antonio to-morrow, and have a talk with him about this business.

I have written these details to your Lordships so that you may see that this commune has done and continues to do its duty; and that, if irregularities have occurred, you may know whence they have come. The contractor tells me that his correspondent has written him that there is abundance of everything in the camp. But that system cannot be regarded as a good one which gives abundance one day and scarcity the next.

I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret.

Pistoja,

18 May, 1509

Antonio de Filicaja

Alamanno de Salvia

Niccolo Capponi

20 May, 1509

Val Serchio

LETTER IX.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

All three of us having met here to-day, partly to see each other once face to face, and partly to talk over what ought to be done now after the devastation of the country, which may be said to have been carried out most effectually. The news of our meeting having reached Pisa, Tarlatino addressed a letter to us, saying that, if we would consent to it, four of their citizens would come to confer with us, namely, Francesco del Torto, Matteo di Gaddo, Antonio dell’ Oste, and Carlo Bandella. Deeming it well to hear what they had to say, they came, and we received them with a courteous welcome. After resting a little while, Francesco del Torto spoke in the name of all, and said that their Signoria and people had appointed twelve deputies to proceed to Florence and throw themselves at the feet of our illustrious Signoria for the purpose of composing the differences between the commune of Pisa and the republic of Florence; that they had come to make this determination known to us, and to ask of us a safe-conduct for this deputation. We began our reply in the most friendly terms possible, so as to impress them thoroughly with the kindly disposition which our city entertained towards them; and then we went on to say that what had done them most harm hitherto was their attempt to gain time, whilst if they had not done so, but had rather anticipated  time, their harvest would have remained safe, and would not have been taken from them; and that these delays, on which they perhaps still counted, might prove as injurious to them in the future as they had been in the past. And if they wished to hasten matters, it would be well for them to settle the outlines of an arrangement with us, even if they could not conclude anything definitely; that this might be done in one day, as they could at any moment communicate with Pisa; and that it would not be so easy at Florence to settle the difficulties that might arise during the negotiations. Nevertheless, the safe-conduct was at their disposal, and they might adopt either course that seemed to them best; but that in our judgment the first was the best, being the shortest. They replied, that they liked our suggestions, but, having no power to negotiate with us, they could do no more than to ask for the safe-conduct. They would, however, return to Pisa and talk the matter over with the authorities, and then take one course or the other, and would make known to us what had been decided upon; and then they would ask for the safe-conduct, or would endeavor to negotiate with us; and thus the matter was left.

Our discussion was pretty long, and touched upon various subjects, and from their language and their actions they seemed to us really well disposed; and it may well be that, whether they come here or proceed to Florence to settle the details, a satisfactory result will be reached. They said that we must not be surprised if during to-morrow, or even the next day, we were not to hear anything more from them, but that such delay would only serve more certainly to reach a satisfactory conclusion. To this we have urged them, and in all our arguments we have endeavored to inspire them with confidence that they may expect from our city more clemency, more security, and more advantages than they themselves could ask for. They expressed themselves satisfied of this, and disposed to persuade those of their fellow-citizens who remained obstinate, or who held different opinions. Thus matters stand, and your Lordships can now form as good a judgment of the matter as we can ourselves. We must wait now to see what they will decide upon, of which your Lordships shall be promptly advised. We do not send the names of the deputies appointed by the Pisans, as Niccolo has communicated them in a note to your Lordships this morning. All these negotiations do not cause us to  relax in the least our efforts in this enterprise, which we shall continue to press until we have the proof in hand that they are really in earnest, which we are disposed to believe from what they have said to us in public, and since then to each one of us in particular, unless, indeed, they are otherwise interfered with, from which Heaven preserve us! We recommend ourselves to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

ANTONIO DE FILICAJA,

} Commissaries-General.

ALAMANNO DE SALVIATI,

NICCOLO CAPPONI,

From the Camp in the

Val Serchio,

20 May, 1509

Antonio de Filicaja

21 May, 1509

San Jacopo

LETTER X.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

In another letter which I wrote to your Lordships to-day, I reported all that had taken place here up to that time. Since then I received, at about the twentieth hour, a letter from Tarlatino, in which he informs me that the Pisans have decided to reduce the number of deputies from the country from eight to five; and that the country deputies have agreed to it, for they were made to see that so large a number of deputies from the country would not be to the honor of those from the city. It has been definitely decided that the deputation to Florence shall consist of five from the country and four from the city of Pisa; they are to send here to-morrow for the safe-conduct; and we shall see now what will come of it. Simone da Pontremoli is here, as your Lordships know, for the purpose of soliciting Tarlatino, who has already rid himself of his effects, and as a last demand has asked to take away his bed and other heavy furniture. This desire to take away his bed shows that he intends going elsewhere to sleep; but it would not be at all astonishing if he were to delay it for some days; for as these peace negotiations are in progress, he would like to see them concluded or likely to be concluded, so that your Lordships would be under some obligation to him in that matter; or to make himself useful to your Lordships in some other way. And if his conduct is well examined, it will be seen to be natural and reasonable. I have never considered it otherwise, and do not think so now;  but if any one is deceived by it, the error will be natural and justifiable. Nor would Simone da Pontremoli have come but for the purpose of having Tarlatino leave Pisa, considering who sends him, and has given him money and letters; and considering also how earnestly he intrigues and solicits, as well as by every letter I receive from Tarlatino, which are all in his handwriting; and how, whilst near me, he protests that he can pledge his word but once, and that rather than forfeit that he would lose his life. These kind of people seem to make great account of their pledges, and the higher their grade the more they value their word. But let happen what will, Tarlatino’s being sent out of Pisa can only be of advantage to you and injurious to the Pisans. And no other means than these could have been employed to get him out of Pisa; for he will have to get away by stealth, which he could not do if he were to take all his effects with him.

The names of the five country deputies that have been finally appointed are as follows: Ser Tommeo da Calci, Matteo di Gaddo, Antonio dell’ Oste, or del Zanna, which is the same, Carlo Bandella, and Tommaso del Malasoma. Of the city deputies a list has already been sent you by Niccolo Capponi. I have nothing else to communicate to your Lordships.

Antonio Filicaja,
General. Commiss.

From the Camp near

San Jacopo,

21 May, 1509

Alamannus Salviatus

23 May, 1509

LETTER XI.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

At this eighteenth hour I receive a letter from your Lordships. Having written you at length only four hours ago, I have nothing to say in reply to your present letter. The enclosed I have received from Tarlatino from Pisa. Your Lordships will note what he writes. It seems to me that matters are progressing; I judge so particularly from what the said Tarlatino writes to the Signor Muzio, namely, that the ambassadors are to leave Pisa this evening or to-morrow morning. May it please God that it prove of advantage to our city! When I come to Florence I shall leave here in my place Rafaello  Fedini, who is in every way capable of acting as my substitute, the same as though I were personally present, particularly seeing the excellent disposition and good will of the gentlemen Condottieri; so that your Lordships can safely rely upon him and have your minds easy. Valete!

Servitor

Alamannus Salviatus,
Generalis Commiss.

From the Florentine Camp at San Piero in Grado,

23 May, 1509

Alamannus Salviatus

24 May, 1509

San Miniato

LETTER XII.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

To-day at about the nineteenth hour I was in our intrenchments with the nine Pisan ambassadors, and now at this twenty-fourth hour I am with them here at San Miniato. I shall leave here to-morrow morning, and will endeavor to be to-morrow evening at about the twenty-second hour at Legnaja a Capponi, according to the instructions in your Lordships’ last letter; and shall there await your further orders as to the course I am to pursue. I beg to remind your Lordships to give orders to have the money for the pay of the regular troops at San Piero by the 26th, without fail, so as to prevent the occurrence of any disorders. Valete!

Servitor

Alamannus Salviatus,
Generalis Commiss.

San Miniato,

24 May, 1509

Alamannus Salviatus

25 May, 1509

San Miniato

LETTER XIII.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

To-night at the fifth hour I received your Lordships’ letter directing me to be at Florence at dinner-time, and to enter the city with the Pisan ambassadors, and to conduct them directly to the lodgings that have been prepared for them. I must observe to your Lordships, however, that it will not be possible to take these deputies all the way to Florence without giving them a meal on the way, for some of them are aged, and some unwell.  And therefore I count upon stopping for refreshments at the country-seat of Francesco Antinori, and from there to proceed and make our entry into Florence at about the twentieth hour, and to take them by the nearest route to San Piero Scherrajo, where you inform me that their lodgings have been prepared. Valete!

Alamannus Salviatus,
Generalis Commiss.

San Miniato,

25 May, 1509

Alamannus Salviatus

31 May, 1509

Cascina

LETTER XIV.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

Having left Florence yesterday together with the six Pisan ambassadors, we reached here in the evening, too late to proceed any farther. As this deputation did not seem to me altogether to the purpose, it was not without some reluctance that I remained with them. Nevertheless, I conversed at length during the journey with each of them separately, and found them all well disposed to that degree that some of them declared to me that they would be willing to leave their own children as hostages with any one who still mistrusted them; so that, if the facts correspond to their words, we may say that we are as good as in Pisa. These six ambassadors have just left for Pisa, it being now the eleventh hour; and all of them were still in the same frame of mind. I shall wait now to see what success they will have, of which your Lordships shall be duly informed; and to enable me to continue this negotiation more conveniently and to communicate more freely with your Lordships, I shall establish myself at Mezzana with Niccolo Capponi, provided my other colleagues approve of it. I have therefore written to Capponi to come here to-day, if he thinks well of it, so that we may all three confer about what has taken place, and come to an understanding as to the course we are to pursue hereafter in this negotiation.

I have nothing more to communicate, and recommend myself to your Lordships.

Servus

Alamannus Salviatus,
Generalis Commiss.

Cascina,

31 May, 1509

Alamanno Salviati

Niccolo Capponi

1 June, 1509

Mezzana

LETTER XV.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

We have not written to your Lordships since our last of yesterday evening, as nothing of interest has transpired since then, and we were most desirous to be able to report some progress in this negotiation. This evening an individual came here from Pisa, and informed us that the country people and the citizens had been in consultation all day in relation to their respective interests, and that the former were altogether resolved to conclude an arrangement with Florence; and that, to avoid further sufferings from the effects of the war, they were anxious that the citizens of Pisa should be of the same mind; but that the latter, after much debate, wanted to wait until to-morrow before taking any definite resolution. The country people, thinking that the citizens merely wanted to delay the matter, told them that they would not leave until some decision had been arrived at, and that they had caused the palace gates to be closed until the matter had been decided, as they would not at any rate remain any longer in the present situation. In fact, we learn that they really cannot hold out any longer, and if the hope of peace were extinguished, one half of the inhabitants of Pisa would die of hunger, for in that case every one would lock up what provision yet remained to him. We hope to be able to communicate something definite to your Lordships to-morrow, and will see that you are promptly informed.

Tarlatino notified us to-day, in two of his letters, that he would like to have his accounts settled. The last time, he sent his accounts to a brother of his, who arrived here to-day. We have replied, in general terms, that your Lordships were well disposed towards him; but owing to Antonio’s absence from here at this time, and not knowing what the end of the Pisan business would be, we could not make any particular reply at this moment. We believe that he is thus pressing because he thinks that the Pisan business is about to be settled; and on the other hand being solicited by Simonetto, he would like before leaving Pisa to have his business disposed of, hoping to have it done on better terms. We could wish that he were out of Pisa, so that we should not have to pay him anything; and being away from Pisa, he could not interfere with  our negotiations; as he would be apt to do if he were there, and perceived that we were putting him off with fine words, without concluding anything definite. We have written to Antonio da Filicaja to have Simonetto continue his solicitations, and will see now what effect that will produce.

Every day almost the entire population of Pisa would like to come here, some because they think that peace is already concluded, and others to show that they are our friends. If by to-morrow the Pisans do not come to some definite determination, we shall make it known that we shall treat all who come into our camp as enemies; this will have the effect of spurring them on to a decision. Meantime, there has been no harm in having intercourse with some of these wild fellows, as it will tame them down a little, and soothe their spirits somewhat; for we understand that the difficulty lies altogether with but a few of the citizens, not exceeding twenty-five in number, who up to the present have prevented the conclusion of peace.

This evening the courier despatched by your Lordships brings us your letter, from which we note the news of the one hundred and fifty Pisan infantry who have left Lombardy to come to Pisa. We have given afresh all possible orders to prevent their coming; and as to Tarlatino and Simonetto, we have stated above all that has occurred. True, we have at this moment, it being about the third hour, received letters from Antonio saying that Tarlatino had applied to him for a safe-conduct for himself and such Pisans as he may take with him, and that they intend to leave to-morrow, and he asks our advice upon this matter. We have answered him to give the safe-conduct to Tarlatino and the Pisans whom he may take with him, provided they are able-bodied soldiers; and that, should Tarlatino ask for any compensation, to say to him that he will have to confer with us upon that point.

I, Niccolo, beg to remind your Lordships of the pay of Daccio and Gattamelata, it being thirty-six days since they have received any money. Valete!

ALAMANNO SALVIATI,

} Commiss. General.

NICCOLO CAPPONI,

From the Camp at

Mezzana,

1 June, fourth hour of night, 1509

Antonio de Filicaja

1 June, 1509

LETTER XVI.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

My last letter to your Lordships was of yesterday, and I therein said all that had occurred up to that moment. A very little while after that, I received letters from Alamanno Salviati dated at Cascina, in which he informs me that he had sent a portion of the ambassadors back to Pisa to examine and perfect the articles of agreement that had been sketched out at Florence; and that he intended afterwards to go to Mezzana and remain there, it being a convenient place for the Pisans in case they should wish to communicate with us upon any point; and equally convenient for us three commissaries, if there should be any occasion for our meeting together. Accordingly I went to Mezzana, and was there informed by Alamanno of all that had been done at Florence with the Pisan ambassadors, in relation to which I have nothing to observe. We must now await the issue of this business. I learn that, on the return of these ambassadors to Pisa, they were received by the multitude with great demonstrations of joy; after which they proceeded to the palace, accompanied by a number of the first citizens, to examine the articles of agreement. Orders were given for the assembling of the Council to-day, for the purpose of finally perfecting those articles, which, may it please God, will soon relieve us of all further anxiety. We have not heard anything here of the news given by the captain of Fivizzano, and yet, according to the orders given, we ought to have heard something about it. We have not, and shall not abate our vigilance by day or night in accordance with orders given on that point.

Nothing else occurs to me to write about, except to recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Antonio de Filicaja,
General. Commiss.

From the Camp,

1 June, 1509

Alamannus Salviatus

Nicolaus Capponeus

2 June, 1509

LETTER XVII.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

We wrote to your Lordships yesterday, at the fourth hour of night, and reported all that had transpired up to that moment. This morning, at the first hour and a half of the day, a messenger arrived with letters from Tarlatino, informing us that the ambassadors, who had returned from Florence, had referred the question respecting the troops to us three commissaries; and that the troops had deputed him, together with four of their number, to come here and settle that matter with us. Judging that these soldiers wanted to press the settlement of their case before it should become known what resolution had been taken in council, so as to obtain more favorable conditions, we have detained Tarlatino’s messenger here, on the ground that, before replying to him, we wished to know what had been decided in council yesterday. Whilst thus temporizing, Andrea de Pucerello, brother of Filippo, arrives, at this sixteenth hour, to inform us on the part of Filippo that the ambassadors are hastening here to bring us the resolution of the acceptance of the agreement, and that everything was settled. We have deemed it proper to send this information to your Lordships by a mounted messenger, so that you may know, from hand to hand, how matters stand. We shall endeavor to do the best we possibly can in the matter between your Lordships and Tarlatino and the troops, and will inform you of all with the utmost despatch. All that we write now is founded upon the information sent us by the said Andrea. We shall, however, report again so soon as we learn the particulars from the ambassadors, and will immediately after their arrival despatch a mounted messenger to your Lordships.

ALAMANNUS SALVIATUS,

} Commissarii Generales.

NICOLAUS CAPPONEUS,

From the Florentine Camp at Mezzana,

2 June, 1509, at the 15th hour

Antonius de Filicaja

2d day of June, 1509

LETTER XVIII.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

The last letter I have from your Lordships is of the 30th ultimo, since which I have not heard from you. Yesterday all three of us met at the camp at Mezzana, together with the Pisan ambassadors, with whom we conferred at length in relation to the treaty of peace; they concluded by telling us that they were going to Florence to ratify the treaty. Alamanno goes with them, and we will inform your Lordships fully of all particulars.

Nothing further occurs to me to say on the subject, except to urge promptness, for in the present position of things all delay will be of more advantage to the Pisans than to us. And yet it will be difficult to prevent this altogether, for I am sure there were yesterday not less than three hundred Pisans in the camp at Mezzana; and, if I had not kept our troops on the trenches this morning, so as to prevent persons from passing, the camp would actually have been filled with Pisans, who would all have returned to the city after having been well fed.

The time for paying the regular infantry falls on the 5th of this month. On the same day comes due the pay of the Signori Francesco dal Monte, Gianotto da Carda, Giannone da Librafatta, and Auzino. And although the peace negotiations are drawing to a close yet until they are definitely concluded I deem it proper to remind your Lordships of the pay due the infantry; for on the one hand the Pisans are still with their ears erect, and on the other hand, if these troops are not paid on the very day, they become at once turbulent. Your Lordships can best judge of the result, and give such orders as the case demands.

Nothing else occurs to me to say at present, except to recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Antonius de Filicaja,
Commiss. Generalis.

From the Camp near San Jacopo,
this

2d day of June, 1509

Niccolaus Capponeus

3 June, 1509

LETTER XIX.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

This evening I have your Lordships’ letter, dated this morning at the fifteenth hour. As Alamanno with the Pisan ambassadors will have arrived at Florence, it is not necessary for me to say anything on that subject. A great crowd of men came here yesterday from Pisa, and, as they came so freely and showed so much good will, we felt that we could not refuse to allow them to take a little bread away with them. It was the same to-day, but they did not come in such numbers, nor did we allow them to carry away so much bread with them; to-morrow I shall restrict them still more, but always with kind words, and shall not allow them to come into the camp nor to carry anything away with them. But your Lordships can well imagine that this cannot be done without the greatest difficulty, as Alamanno will be able to explain to you; but matters are in that state that we must very soon see the end. The regular troops received their pay on the 25th, but Duccio and Gattamelata have not had theirs for thirty-seven days now; your Lordships will please, therefore, to provide the money for it.

At the time of destroying the harvest, I informed your Lordships of the death of several horses belonging to Giovanni Capoccia and two other men-at-arms of the Signor Marc Antonio; and as this destroying of the harvest had been a most laborious and perilous work, I suggested that it would be well for your Lordships to treat these men with some little consideration, and in reply you directed me to let Capoccia and the others who had lost their horses know that your Lordships were disposed to make them some compensation. I have waited until now to remind your Lordships of this, so as to see whether there might not be some others who had suffered similar losses. The destruction of the crops being accomplished, I have thought proper now to bring this matter to the notice of your Lordships, as I had told these men of your Lordships’ intention. The horse of Giovanni Capoccia was the best he had, and was worth a hundred ducats; the other two were worth together sixty to eighty ducats. I recommend this matter to your Lordships so as to encourage the others, for your Lordships know well that when a man loses a horse of such value he is undone.

Nothing more at present, except to recommend myself to your Lordships.

From the Florentine Camp at Mezzana,

3 June, 1509, 4th hour of night

P. S. Although I believe that your Lordships will liberate all the Pisan prisoners when the treaty goes into effect, yet I desire much to have special instructions as to whether the brother of Alfonso is to be treated the same as the others.

Niccolaus Capponeus,
Commiss. Generalis.

P. S. I suppose that when we enter Pisa your Lordships will want to rebuild the citadel as soon as possible; and we must therefore think of providing the necessary materials, more particularly lime, which is not to be had in this country excepting at the one kiln at Vico. I have ordered some burned there; still it seems to me advisable that your Lordships should order some to be prepared, so that no time need be lost.

Niccolaus Capponeus

4 June, 1509

Mezzana

LETTER XX.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I wrote to your Lordships yesterday, and although I am sure that it is unnecessary to remind your Lordships, yet I deem it well to urge you to finish what is to be arranged with those ambassadors; for such is the necessity of the Pisans, and such their confidence in your Lordships’ good intentions towards them, and in the certainty that the treaty is concluded, that I cannot prevent their continually coming into camp and carrying off something from here. I have put guards at all the passages; but good words have no longer any effect, and I do not think it well to employ harsh ones just at the moment when matters are on the point of being closed. I shall of course do my best to restrain them and to prevent them from carrying things away, but I await with eagerness the news that everything is settled at Florence. I have nothing further to write, except to recommend myself to your Lordships.

Niccolaus Capponeus,
Commiss. Generalis.

From the Florentine Camp at

Mezzana,

4 June, 1509

Antonio de Filicaja

4 June, 1509

San Jacopo

LETTER XXI.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

My last to your Lordships was of yesterday, in which I reported all I had to say. Last night I received your Lordships’ letter through the hands of Niccolo Capponi addressed to us jointly, to which I have no reply to make, other than that I am executing and ever shall continue to execute all your Lordships’ orders. I would now reiterate with the utmost respect what I wrote yesterday, to urge your Lordships to make every effort to close with the Pisan ambassadors; for, as matters now stand, everything is of advantage to the Pisans and adverse to us; and although it is generally said that the Pisans, and particularly the inhabitants of the city, are most favorable to the conclusion of peace, yet I can assure your Lordships that there are some crooked sticks left amongst them. At the last meeting in council, when the return of the ambassadors to Florence was decided upon, there was great difficulty to bring this about; and had it not been for the country people who were at the meeting of the council, they would have broken up and left the palace in anger. And it is not without reason that they watch most diligently to prevent letters from leaving or coming into the city. These facts have been communicated to me by a man of good character, and who desires to see the treaty concluded.

In reminding your Lordships yesterday of the pay of the infantry, I omitted to mention with the others Bernardino da Carrara, who is at Librafatta, and whose pay falls due at the same time as that of the other constables. Your Lordships will act in this matter according to the decision you may arrive at with the Pisan ambassadors; a prompt conclusion will be a great saving of money. I have nothing else to write, except to recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Antonio de Filicaja,
Commiss. General.

From the Camp near

San Jacopo,

4 June, 1509

Antonius de Filicaja

Alamannus Salviat

Nicolaus Capponeus

6 June, 1509

LETTER XXII.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

All three of us have met here in the camp at Mezzana, and have ordered all our Condottieri to come here to devise the mode of entering Pisa, how we are to maintain ourselves there, what garrison we shall have to establish, etc., etc. We will advise your Lordships in another letter of the result of our deliberations. I, Alamanno, left San Miniato this morning, and on arriving at Cascina I sent from there by the direct road those of the ambassadors who came with me, and who with such cheerful mien expressed themselves so well satisfied with all that had been done as actually to increase our favorable disposition towards them; Niccolo Machiavelli reports the same of those who came with him. They lodged last night at Cascina, and were to arrive at Pisa this morning at sunrise. It is now about the eighteenth hour, but we have not yet heard from Pisa what they have done in public. True, some three or four hours ago several Pisan citizens came here, and assured us that the ambassadors had made the most favorable report in private, but that they had not yet spoken in public. So soon as we hear anything further we will immediately write to your Lordships; we send these present lines merely that you may not unnecessarily be kept in suspense, and that you may know how matters stand at this hour.

We have also learned, thanks be to God, that Tarlatino has left Pisa, and gone in the direction of Lucca, to go from there to Lombardy. We are anxiously awaiting a supply of bread, which of all things is most needed. We have nothing more to say at this moment, but recommend ourselves to your Lordships.

From the Florentine Camp at Mezzana,

6 June, 18th hour and a half, 1509

P. S. At this moment we receive your Lordships’ letter of this morning, sent by an express messenger, and can only say in reply that we shall conform with all possible diligence to all the orders your Lordships may send us.

We shall carefully watch the soldiers, as well as all others who may enter Pisa, and shall hasten the entrance into Pisa either in the way in which your Lordships indicate, or in any  other possible way. We learn from a person just from there, that the Council is assembling in the utmost haste, and nearly the entire population of Pisa is rushing to the meeting.

ANTONIO DE FILICAJA,

} Commissaries-General.

ALAMANNUS SALVIATUS,

NICCOLO CAPPONI,

Nicolaus Capponeus

6 June, 1509

LETTER XXIII.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

Yesterday evening I received a letter from your Lordships, and to-night I have another. In reply I can only say that I am expecting Alamanno to dinner and that Antonio will be here after dinner, and should anything of interest occur I will immediately inform your Lordships. The three ambassadors could not reach Pisa last night, but stopped at Cascina, whence they were to start at an early hour this morning. I firmly believe that they will expedite matters to-day so that we may enter into Pisa to-morrow; for if they are well disposed, there will be no difficulties.

It has been impossible for the past two days to restrain the people of Pisa, and prevent their coming into our camp; and we on our part, in view of the certainty of the conclusion of peace, defend ourselves the best way we can from their eager attentions. Tarlatino left Pisa this morning, and has gone towards Lucca. I have nothing further to write except to recommend myself to your Lordships.

Nicolaus Capponeus,
Commiss. Generalis.

From the Florentine Camp,

6 June, 1509

Antonius de Filicaja

Alamannus Salviatus

Nicolaus Capponeus

6 June, 1509.

LETTER XXIV.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

We wrote to your Lordships to-day at the twenty-first hour all that had occurred up to that time. Since then, at about the twenty-third hour, Messer Francesco del Lante and Ser Tommio da Calsi arrived here, and told us that they had come to  signify to us that immediately on their arrival in Pisa, and after having informed their Priors of the terms of the treaty, which were satisfactory to them as well as to all who had heard them, they had endeavored to assemble their Council with as many adjuncts as possible, so that this business, which concerns every one, might be confirmed by every one; but that with all their efforts they had not been able to get as many together as they desired to have; for very many of them were busy in getting their houses in order to receive us and our troops; and a portion of the country people had gone out to work in the fields and attend to other business. Thus they had been obliged to put off the meeting for the approval of the treaty until to-morrow; but that at the first hour of night they would have notice published for the meeting of the general Council to-morrow morning; and that they would not have the city gates opened to-morrow until after the Council had assembled. They have promised to bring us the ratification to-morrow before dinner, and seemed delighted to have found those persons pleased and well disposed who until now had been very differently disposed. We fully believe that they will come to-morrow according to their promise; and we shall see to it that we get possession to-morrow of the whole or part of the state, making ourselves masters of the artillery and of some strong positions in the city, of which we shall notify your Lordships successively.

The gentlemen Condottieri have met to-day for the object mentioned in our letter of the 18th, and have concluded that it will be necessary at first to keep a garrison of not less than one thousand men in Pisa; and for this purpose we shall keep six hundred of the regular infantry, and the other four hundred of the troops under the old constables.

We have nothing further to write at present, except to recommend ourselves to your Lordships.

ANTONIO DE FILICAJA,

} Commissaries-General.

ALAMANNO DE SALVIATI,

NICCOLO CAPPONI,

From the Florentine Camp at Mezzana,

6 June, 4th hour of night, 1509

.*

MISSION TO MANTUA ON BUSINESS WITH THE EMPEROR OF GERMANY.*

COMMISSION GIVEN TO NICCOLO MACHIAVELLI TO PROCEED TO MANTUA AND ITS VICINITY,

Resolved upon on the 10th November, 1509.

Niccolo, —

You will proceed to Mantua, accompanied by two or three mounted men, bearing the sum of money due on the payment we have to make in that city to the Emperor, or his legitimate representative, for the second term or second payment of the amount which we have engaged ourselves to pay according to the treaty lately made with his Majesty. It is important that all of you, or at least yourself, should travel  so as to arrive there on the 14th, or at latest the 15th, of the present month. To enable you to transact this business the more easily, you will be the bearer of a letter of credence to the most illustrious Marchioness, to whom you will relate all that may have happened to you, after having first thanked her in the most grateful manner for all the good offices and kindness which she has shown to our ambassadors, enlarging upon this as fully as you may think suitable.

Some one will by that time have arrived in Mantua, who is duly empowered to receive the payment in question; and for your fuller information as to the course you will have to pursue, you must know that out of the whole amount one thousand ducats will have to be paid to Lante Bonifazio da Sarego, a gentleman from Verona, as provided by the terms of the treaty. All the rest is to be paid to the person sent by the Emperor to receive it. But as the matter is very generally known, it will be necessary for you to use every care and precaution to know and legitimize the person to whom you have to pay the money. You will have no great difficulty upon this point with regard to Bonifazio; but whoever comes on behalf of his Majesty the Emperor must be provided with proper and sufficient credentials. The individual who came to receive the first payment was thus provided with a royal commission authorizing the payment to be made to him; and the same ought to be the case on the present occasion. We desire you to take an acquittance from the individual himself to whom the money is paid, which must be properly attested; and moreover, we want you to have both payments formally acknowledged as public acts, as was done with regard to the first payment. Giovanni Borromei, at whose house you will probably alight, will be able to procure for you the services of the same notary. After having made the payments, you will send back to us the acquittances and other documents by the same mounted men that accompanied you to Mantua, reporting to us at the same time all that you may be able to learn respecting the Emperor’s affairs, and especially everything relating to his Italian enterprise. After that you will proceed to Verona, or to wherever it may seem most convenient to you to obtain more precise information on the subject, and to communicate the same to us; and you must not leave that region until you receive orders from us, for, being once there on account of the payments, your  presence will be less noted than if we were to send some one else there. During your stay in the different places, and which it would be well to change from day to day, as occasion may require, you will write to us carefully and regularly all that may occur worthy of notice; but so as to avoid all danger that might result therefrom, you will send your letters by the regular courier. We would also recommend to you and the aforementioned mounted men, that you move with great care and circumspection, and with as little display as possible.

You will also be the bearer of a letter of credence to the Right Reverend Monsignore di Gursa in connection with those payments, or any other matter where you may need him. You may present that letter to him either before or after the payments are made, according as you may find necessary. And finally you will take with you a copy of the above-mentioned royal commission, so that you may know the form in which the present one will have to be drawn up and signed.

The person to whom the first payment was made was one of his Majesty’s secretaries by the name of Wolfgang Hemerle, a man of small stature, thirty to thirty-two years old, somewhat stout, with red beard and hair slightly curled. The notary who drew up the documents respecting the first payment was Ser Gabriello, son of Ser Bartolommeo d’ Albo of Mantua; he could draw up the present papers the same as the first, of which we furnish you a copy. The only alteration necessary will be to state that this is for the second payment.

Niccolo Machiavelli

17 November, 1509

Mantua

LETTER I.

Magnificent and Illustrious Signori, etc. —

I arrived here all safe on Thursday the 15th, and on the same day came Pigello Portinari, and with him Messer Antimaco, who was formerly secretary of the Marquis, but having been dismissed by him he has now become the Emperor’s factotum. This same Messer Antimaco had an imperial commission to receive the payment, and therefore yesterday after dinner I counted out to him nine thousand ducats, and have now in my possession the imperial letter and an acquittance from the hands of Messer Antimaco; and a properly attested  document of the whole transaction has been drawn up by the same notary who drew up the documents relating to the first payment. With Messer Antimaco there came a young man from Verona, who claimed the one thousand ducats which your Lordships’ commission directs me to pay. But as he had no mandate nor letter of any kind from the principal party, and nothing but the guaranty of Messer Antimaco, I declined to pay it to him, and told him to go back for a proper mandate, and that then I would pay him; he agreed to do so, saying that he would return here to-day. I shall wait for him here, and when I get all the acquittances of these payments I will send them to your Lordships, according to your instructions, by one of the mounted men. If I could have made all the payments yesterday and sent you the acquittances, etc., I would have despatched them with this and with the enclosed letters from Francesco Pandolfini, which Giovanni Borromei, by his particular instructions, sends to you in all haste by one of the mounted men. And in that case I should have gone with Messer Antimaco and Pigello to meet the Emperor; but not having been able to make both the payments, and my commission not permitting me to do so at any other place, I remained here; and so soon as I shall have accomplished all, I will send you the documents, and then go to join the Emperor, whom Messer Antimaco told me he left on the 12th at Rovere, whence he was to proceed to Bassano, a town some twenty-five miles from Verona towards Friuli. He also told me, that the Emperor with a large army intended to attack the Venetians from that side, whilst the attempt upon Lignago would have to be made from the opposite direction, and that he himself would have to remain here some days for the purpose of ordering and buying certain necessaries for the enterprise, with a portion of the funds received in payment. And finally he told me that the Emperor had renewed his intimate relations with the king of France, and had sent him a solemn and honorable embassy. Whilst thus conversing with Messer Antimaco he talked to me in the grandest manner about the affairs of the Emperor.

Afterwards, at about the twenty-second hour, whilst we were engaged in counting the money, a mounted messenger arrived from the Bishop of Trent, who, as your Lordships know, is the governor of Verona, bearing letters to Messer Antimaco, who after having read them approached me together with Pigello,  and told me that he had received information that Vicenza had revolted the day before, and that the Venetians had marched into the city; in consequence of which he had been ordered to proceed as soon as possible with the money to Verona. He gave me no further particulars, but when I went out, after having completed the payments, I found that the news was already known all over the place, but that the reports of the affair varied materially. Some said that all the troops that were in Vicenza had been stripped, and that Fracassa and the Marquis of Brandenburg had been made prisoners. Others said that the people, having risen in arms, had by common accord sent all the troops away without doing them any harm. It has been impossible for me to learn the real truth. I presume that Francesco Pandolfini will have given you more correct accounts of this affair in the letter which he despatched to you in such haste. Many apprehend that Verona may follow the example of Vicenza, and seem to think that, if she does not do so, it will be out of respect for the French, who are near by and hold some excellent fortresses that may prove very strong when properly supplied with munitions, etc.

This is all I am able to tell your Lordships at the present in relation to this matter, but so soon as I shall get to a place where I can obtain more full and reliable information, I will communicate it to your Lordships. I called yesterday morning to pay my respects to the Marchioness, but found that she rises late and gives no audience before dinner. I could not go again in the afternoon, as I was occupied until night with those payments, but will try anyhow to see her to-day.

I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Mantua,

17 November, 1509

I do not send one of my mounted men with this, as I want one of them to carry the acquittances, etc. to you, and shall require the other to remain with me here in case I shall have to go farther.

Servus

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret.

Niccolo Machiavelli

18 November, 1509

Mantua

LETTER II.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I counted upon making the payment of the one thousand ducats to-day, and then to send your Lordships the acquittances and documents relating to both the payments; but Bonifazio’s agent came back this evening from Verona, and brought a mandate so badly drawn up that our notary declared it insufficient for the payments to be made under it, or to enable him to draw up a properly attested notarial act of the transaction. Thus it had to be sent back to Verona for rectification. Seeing this fresh delay, I concluded to send Ardingo with the acquittance for the nine thousand ducats paid to Messer Antimaco, as reported to you in my letter of yesterday, which is herewith enclosed, as also the letter of the Emperor commissioning Messer Antimaco to receive the payment, and the acquittance from Messer Antimaco’s own hand, and also the notarial act attesting the said payment to have been made, drawn up by the same notary who attested the first payment made by the ambassadors. Messer Antimaco declined to say in his acquittance that it relates to the second payment, although I urged it very much; he says that he had no knowledge of the first payment, and cannot refer to it upon the assurance of others, but he was willing to say in the acquittance that it was for a payment due to his Imperial Majesty in the month of November. In the notarial act, however, it is distinctly stated and several times repeated, that it relates to the second term and payment. I shall wait here until day after to-morrow to pay the one thousand ducats to the Veronese; after that I shall take Zerino with me and leave for Verona, unless something special should occur to prevent me. I shall leave the acquittance and the notarial act with Luigi Guicciardini, with instructions to take them with him to Florence and deliver them to your Lordships.

To-day I had an audience of the Marchioness, and thanked her in your Lordships’ name for the honorable reception given to your ambassadors, adding all I thought proper in offering her your services, etc. She replied in the most gracious manner, thanking your Lordships a thousand times; and then, referring to the events at Vicenza, she told me that she had not yet received any particulars; that it was reported that the  troops and servants of the Emperor had been sent away from there without any other harm; but that nothing had been heard yet from any other quarter. We learn from Verona that the Bishop of Trent has put some fifteen hundred Spaniards in the different forts, and that the houses were being marked for quartering French troops in the city. No one knows what course things are likely to take there, for on the one hand it is believed that the Veronese are greatly disposed to imitate the Vicenzians, and on the other hand it seems probable that they will be restrained by the forts and by the presence of the French. And yet it happens sometimes that the people are governed by their will, regardless of the results that may flow from it; and in this instance such is likely to be the case if the Emperor is really at Trent as is reported. Here, it is said that he will go to Botzen to convoke a Diet there; I do not mention this as absolutely certain, but it was stated to me by a person just from Verona as a thing likely to occur.

Giovanni Borromei thought he would have found some one to carry the letters which Francesco Pandolfini had charged him to forward; but being disappointed, he has concluded now that Ardingo will do it as well as any other who has but one horse; and therefore he has given him four ducats on condition that he shall reach Florence in two days and a half. Your Lordships will please to reimburse this amount to Lionardo Nasi, and also to reimburse the said Lionardo one and three quarters florins gold, which I have paid to the notary for drawing up the document which I send you.

I recommend myself to your Lordships, quae bene valeant.

Mantua,

18 November, 1509

N. B. Your Lordships will please also pay Lionardo Nisi half a ducat which Giovanni Borromei has paid to the messenger who brought him the letter of Francesco Pandolfini, according to his orders.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret.

Niccolo Machiavelli

20 November, 1509

Mantua

LETTER III.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

The courier Ardingo left here yesterday morning with my letters to your Lordships of the 17th and 18th, in which I reported all that occurred to me of interest; he was the bearer, also, of all the documents relating to the payment of the nine thousand ducats. I write these lines merely because Giovanni Borromei is sending a special messenger to Florence by order of Francesco Pandolfini, and I was not willing to let him go without a line from me, although I have nothing new to write beyond what I have already reported. I expect the young man from Verona to-day to receive the thousand ducats; and after having made that payment I shall mount my horse and proceed myself to Verona, so as to be on the spot where all the lies originate, or rather where it rains lies, which abound even more at court than in the public square. This morning it was said, and positively affirmed everywhere, that the Emperor had entered Padua, whilst the Venetians were leaving it to go to Vicenza. As already said, so soon as I shall have paid over the thousand ducats I shall go to Verona, or wherever I can be near the Emperor, provided the roads are passable. I have nothing further to say, except to recommend myself to your Lordships.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret.

Mantua,

20 November, 1509

Niccolo Machiavelli

22 November, 1509

Verona

LETTER IV.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

It was yesterday, and not the day before, that I left Mantua, and arrived here. I made the payment of the thousand ducats, and left the acquittance together with the power of attorney and the notarial act of the transaction with Luigi Guicciardini, with instructions to deliver them to your Lordships on his return to Florence unless he received different orders from your Lordships. The Emperor is at present at Acci, a few miles the other side of Roveredo; and it is reported that he has ordered a levy of  one man per hearth in the Tyrol, with which he intends to come to the assistance of this city. His Majesty is expected here from day to day, and therefore I did not go any farther; moreover, the roads are not by any means safe, for only to-day the Venetians captured ten horsemen on the road leading to Chiusi, who were going to join the Emperor. I intend to wait for him here, where it is likely he will remain during the whole of this war. The state of things in this city is as follows: the gentlemen, feeling themselves guilty, are not adherents of St. Mark, but the citizens and the populace are altogether Venetian; and yet with all this, the day when the Venetians retook Vicenza things looked quite favorable; for at the very moment when the loss of that city became known, a fight occurred amongst some Spaniards in the public square which caused the whole city to take to arms, and reports were spread that the Venetians had entered the city. Nevertheless, none of the citizens left their houses, and no ugly demonstrations were made. There are within the city several posts that are garrisoned, which, if properly supplied, are strong enough to make a long resistance. The garrison consists of German infantry, but altogether does not amount to a thousand men. There are, moreover, some 3,500 other infantry, partly Spanish and partly Italian, and about 1,000 to 1,200 cavalry. You must bear in mind that all the German infantry and cavalry have left here, except a small force that is with the Bishop; there remain here some 1,000 or 1,200 Burgundian cavalry, and those Italians whom the Bishop had in his pay. There are, moreover, some 400 French horse here, that were sent here by the Grand Master on the loss of Vicenza; and to-day there arrived some 150 cavalry under command of a certain Count Giovan Francesco da Bergamo, also sent here by the Grand Master.

The Venetians have established their camp at San Martino, some five miles from here, where they are reported to have some five thousand paid infantry, and a large number of enraged peasants, besides all their cavalry. These have scoured the country all day to-day, and have destroyed the roads, so that I was most fortunate in having come here yesterday instead of to-day. It is supposed that the Venetians will have to make great efforts to obtain possession of this town; they are roving through the neighborhood to sound the disposition of the people, and watching to see whether some disturbances may not arise  in the town that will afford them a chance to get inside. It is supposed that when they see that all this is of no use, they will come with their artillery, for they know that they will have to fight the soldiers that are in the place; although the people, if they have not shown themselves friendly to them, have at the same time shown no sign of being hostile. If they do not attack the place this evening, they will not delay it beyond Sunday, inasmuch as they cannot afford to lose any time; and unless they take this place, it will be of little advantage to them to take Vicenza; but having Verona would enable them at the same time to close the pass to the French and to the Germans, which Vicenza would not enable them to do. It is said, moreover, that the latter city is so feeble that they can retake it with the same facility with which it was taken by the Venetians. The inhabitants of the place, who have no desire to change masters, and the Germans, have placed all their hopes upon the French, and say nothing more about help from Germany. But they say that the Grand Master is coming here in person, and that he has given orders to Messer Jacopo to advance with all the men-at-arms which the King has in Lombardy, and that he has raised a body of volunteers and engaged ten thousand Swiss to come down from their mountains, and that with all these forces he will promptly retake Vicenza, and push the Venetian army back into the Gulf. Your Lordships can learn through Francesco Pandolfini whether all these preparations are really true.

I have been told here that the Grand Master has sent these few troops here merely to give the inhabitants the hope of assistance; and that he has at the same time despatched a messenger to the King (who ought to be back in nine days) to learn how his Majesty wanted him to act under the circumstances. It is not known what course the King may intend to take, and whether he may not prefer to recover what has been lost for himself, rather than defend the possessions of others. But this pass is of the greatest importance and value to any one that wants to carry on a foreign war.

This morning I had an audience of the Bishop, and explained to him the object of my coming here, and that I should remain here some time, etc. He expressed himself much pleased to see me, and praised highly your Lordships’ fidelity to your engagements in making the payments, etc. I have been told  privately by a trustworthy person, that, if Verona is this day in the possession of the Emperor, it is due to the nine thousand ducats, and that he will always acknowledge it. I hope your Lordships will take note of this, so that you may be able to remind him of it in future times, in case circumstances should change; for it is really true, as I have been told, and as I now write to you.

I do not send Zerino, for I do not think it well for me to remain here with only Marcone. True, I spend more than the one ducat per day that is allowed me as salary; nevertheless, as in the past, so shall I be in the future always satisfied with whatever your Lordships may be disposed to do for me. I recommend myself to your Lordships.

Servus

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret.

Verona,

22 November, 1509

Niccolo Machiavelli

24 November, 1509

Verona

LETTER V.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

Day before yesterday, which was the 22d, I wrote to your Lordships all I had been able to learn up to that time in relation to matters here; I sent that letter to Giovanni Borromei, at Mantua, but having resolved this morning to send the courier Zerino back to Florence, I have ordered him to see Giovanni at Mantua and get my letter from him and take it himself to Florence; and assuming it to have reached you safely, I do not repeat what I wrote in that letter.

The Venetian army, which, as I stated in my last, had been encamped at San Martino, some five miles from here, withdrew from there yesterday and moved in the direction of Vicenza. They say that this was done because they did not see that any movement whatever was being made here; and that they did not advance farther out of consideration for the French. And although, as I said in my last, the French were but few in number, yet the Venetians did not want to open actual hostilities against a place where the French were, as they did not wish to irritate the King, and thus cause him to push his enterprise against them with greater vigor. No one is bold enough to  venture even a conjecture as to what the result of all this is going to be. It is true, it is known that the king of France is very desirous of having this city, and that many of the citizens and gentlemen are equally willing that he should have it, and that the Emperor does not seem sufficiently strong at this time either to defend or guard the city; things cannot therefore remain long as they are, for in a very short time the people here will die of hunger unless the French help them with provisions as well as with arms. How these two sovereigns will arrange matters between them can only be judged of by events; nothing is heard of any negotiations here. Your Lordships may be able to obtain more light on the subject from Francesco Pandolfini.

As I have already written, the Emperor is at Acci, a short distance from Roveredo, where it is said he is waiting to raise troops with which to come here; and had it not been for this trouble at Vicenza, he would now be at Innspruck. It is quite possible that the retreat of the Venetians may induce him to undertake this journey for some good purpose, of which, however, nothing is known, although his Majesty is expected here hourly with his troops. Unless otherwise ordered I shall not leave here, for where the Emperor now is he does not want any ambassador or any one else near him. Thus the French and Aragonese ambassadors who were with him have been sent back to Trent, where they now are. I believe that, for the purpose of fully understanding all these manœuvres, it is better for me to remain here than to go to Trent. One thing only could induce me to go there, and that would be the hope of securing those privileges which the Emperor promised under the treaty, and which have not yet been obtained. But as your Lordships did not say anything to me about it when I left Florence, nor have written to me since on that subject, I do not know whether it would be well or otherwise for me now to claim them. I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret.

Verona,

24 November, 1509

Messer Pigello asks to remind your Lordships of his services, and his affairs in Rome.

Niccolo Machiavelli

26 November 1509

Verona

Giovanni Borromei

LETTER VI.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

Since my arrival here I have written twice to your Lordships, on the 22d and 24th, which Zerino will have delivered to you. Nothing of moment has occurred since then, unless it be that this place is every day becoming more and more filled with troops. One thousand Gascons arrived yesterday from Peschiera; and to-day two hundred men-at-arms arrived, also French; and a large number of infantry and cavalry are reported at Peschiera, which are to come here within a couple of days under command of the Grand Master, at which time the Emperor is also expected; and it is said that after these arrivals the army will move forward to avenge the sins of Vicenza. The soldiers are eagerly looking forward to this move, in the hopes of plunder; for the weakness of the place promises great gain, with little fatigue and even less danger. We do not hear that the Venetians have fortified the place, or that they have made any other extraordinary provision, but are established with their troops in certain little castles around the city. The soldiers here are occupying themselves with plundering and ravaging the country around, and we see and hear daily of the most unexampled and extraordinary things, so that the minds of the country people are filled with a desire for death and vengeance, and they have become more obstinate and furious against the enemies of the Venetians than ever the Jews were against the Romans; and it happens almost daily that some one of them that is taken prisoner, allows himself to be killed rather than disown the name of Venetian. It was only yesterday evening that one of them was brought before the Bishop, saying that he was a Marchesco,* and would die a Marchesco, and did not wish to live as anything else; so that the Bishop ordered him to be hung; and neither the offer of letting him go free, nor any other offer, could induce this man to change his determination. Thus, all things considered, it would seem impossible that these sovereigns should be able to hold this country so long as these peasants live. I really do not know whether after the loss of Vicenza they will attempt anything else, nor do I know under what conditions the king of France  comes in this direction with such considerable forces. Upon these points I must refer your Lordships to what Francesco Pandolfini may have written you, who, being here so much longer than myself, and near more communicative persons, ought to have learned some of the particulars. The Bishop of Gursa is not with the Emperor, but, according to what I hear, has gone back to Germany to procure some money.

I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Verona,

26 November 1509

I send this to Giovanni Borromei at Mantua, who will forward it by the first courier whom he despatches.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret.

Niccolo Machiavelli

29 November, 1509

Verona

LETTER VII.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I wrote you last on the 26th and sent it to Giovanni Borromei at Mantua, with instructions to forward it with his first despatches, and I shall do the same with this. Since my last some two hundred men-at-arms arrived here, part French and part Italian, and sent here by Chaumont; amongst them is Tarlatino with his company. Every one here now is full of curiosity to know what so considerable a force is going to do here. The Emperor and the Grand Master were to have met at Obsolengo; the latter had been already for three days at Peschiera. After uniting their forces, they are to decide as to the manner in which this war is to be carried on. I have made every effort to find out whether the king of France claims any compensation from the Emperor for carrying on this war, or whether he really does it without compensation, deeming it sufficient gain to keep the enemy at a distance from his frontiers, and thus deprive the population, which is anyhow not very loyal, of the opportunity to rebel. But I have not yet been able to obtain any information upon this point satisfactory to myself, for I do not believe that there is any one here that knows anything about it; and those with whom I have talked on the subject take very high ground, and say that the Emperor Maximilian  will not give the king of France a single battlement of all that belongs to him; and that he ought to be satisfied to have the states of the Emperor as a shield to his possessions, and allow himself to be trampled under foot first; and that the king of France is obliged to undertake this defence, inasmuch as he thereby defends his own state more advantageously and more securely in keeping the enemy at a distance than by waiting until he is on his frontiers. They seem to think that France is necessarily obliged to take this course. We must wait now to see how the King himself views the matter. All I can say to your Lordships is, that this country cannot long remain in the present condition; for the longer these sovereigns protract this war, the more ardent will the desire of these country people become to return under the dominion of their original masters; for the inhabitants of the city are devoured by the troops quartered in their houses, whilst those who live outside of the city are plundered and killed. The Venetians, who are aware of all this, act just in the contrary way, causing everything to be respected both within and without the city, to a degree that is almost incredible on the part of such an armed multitude; thus, if these two sovereigns trifle with each other, and do not make a prompt and vigorous war, it may give rise to events that will cause these cities to return to their former allegiance with more alacrity than they broke from it.

Two days ago the Emperor was at the place which I mentioned to your Lordships in my last letter. Fracassa came here yesterday; and it is said that the Emperor will make him commander of the Italian troops in place of the Signor Costantino, who is reported as returning to Rome in consequence of having had a dispute with Monseigneur de la Palisse, of such a nature that the latter sent him a challenge. Thus, to avoid having anything to do with the French, Constantino returns to Rome, not leaving a very high opinion of himself behind.

The Venetians have scattered their troops over a distance of some twelve miles, and their Stradiotes often come within a couple of miles of this city. It was only yesterday that they took more than a hundred horses from the enemy’s teamsters, so that to-day these teamsters did not venture out into the country without an escort of more than five hundred cavalry. There are now here 4,500 infantry, and 2,500 horse, of which some 200 are French; 4,000 German infantry are expected here  to-morrow, and the Emperor is also looked for, after he shall have met and conferred with the Grand Master.

I have no further news to commuicate, but recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret.

Verona,

29 November, 1509

Niccolo Machiavelli

December 1, 1509

Verona

Giovami Borromei

LETTER VIII.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I wrote to your Lordships on the 29th ultimo, and sent the letter to Giovanni Borromei at Mantua. I wrote again very briefly yesterday, and sent it to your Lordships by one of the Pope’s couriers who was going to Florence; in that letter I advised you of the arrival of the Emperor’s agent, together with the Signor Costantino. This present letter I shall send you by Messer Francesco da Santa Fiore, Pandolfo Petrucci’s secretary, who returns by way of Florence. I avail myself of this opportunity to give you the news that the meeting of the Emperor with the Grand Master did not take place. Nevertheless the Grand Master was yesterday at Peschiera, and the Emperor left Arco to go to Trent, which seems rather a bad way of getting here. Some three thousand German infantry came here to-day; they are said to be a part of the garrison of Vicenza. I do not see that any other troops arrive, and learn from persons coming from Innspruck that there are none on the road, and that nothing is said there of any troops that are to come here. The Bishop Lieutenant, desiring to relieve the city, at the request of the inhabitants, and believing himself that there were troops enough here to warrant their going out into the country to be quartered in some of the neighboring castles, whence they could press the enemy and at the same time relieve the city, requested the French troops that are here to do so; but they replied that they would not leave the city to advance without orders from the Grand Master. As chance would have it, news came at the same time that the Emperor had sent the Signor Lodovico da Gonzaga to Monseigneur de Chaumont with a similar request, and that the latter had made a similar reply; namely, that without fresh orders from the King he would not  make his troops go beyond Verona. Thus the Imperialists are beginning to talk very disparagingly about the French; say that the Emperor will make terms with the Venetians, and drive the French out of Italy. Consequently, the whole of last night the French troops in the city remained under arms and on horseback; and some of the gentlemen here were greatly afraid that the French would return this morning to Peschiera, and that on the day after the Venetians would come back here. And yet to-day all seems to be arranged, but how it was done I know not. The French captains have had a long consultation with the Bishop, but the result of it is not yet made public. But we see as it were from a distance that here are two sovereigns, one of which has the ability to make war, but is not willing, whilst the other is willing but lacks the ability; and the one who is able trifles away his time. Would to God that he pushed matters energetically, for if he reflects to what point the desperation of the inhabitants here goes, he must feel that he cannot be prompt enough in removing from their sight the army upon which they base all their hopes, and fix all their thoughts. And if he continues by his present proceedings to keep up the desperation of the people of this country, and to keep alive the Venetians, then, as I have before remarked, it may at any moment give rise to events that will make the King and the Pope, as well as ourselves, repent that we have not done our duty at the right time.

This community has to-day sent two ambassadors to the Emperor to represent to him the condition in which they are at present, and their apprehensions. They are awaiting their return, which will be of importance, even if it should not lead to any change in the state of things. There is talk of a Diet to be held at Kempten, a place three days’ journey beyond Innspruck, and it is thought that perhaps the Emperor may be present in person. The Venetians are seizing as many castles as they please in this neighborhood, and it is stated that they have done a great deal of damage in the territory of Ferrara, and that they still continue to do so. But as I suppose that your Lordships will have fuller information in relation to this from Ferrara, I shall not attempt to give you any details of this. Furthermore, it is reported to-day that the Venetians have taken a number of galleys up the river Po, and that the Duke of Ferrara has had rocks sunk in the rear of these galleys, so that they will not be able to return without risk of being wrecked; and  that they are waiting for the French troops to lay their hands upon these galleys.

If the Emperor stops at Trent, I may perhaps go there, unless your Lordships recall me before, which I entreat you to do; for the Emperor does not permit any one to remain near him; and if I am to remain at a distance from him, I might as well be at Florence as here, particularly as Francesco Pandolfini is near here and can keep your Lordships fully informed of everything that is going on here, as he has intimate relations with men, etc.

Servitor,

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret.

Verona,

December 1, 1509

Niccolo Machiavelli

2 December, 1509

Verona

LETTER IX.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I wrote to your Lordships yesterday and sent the letter by Messer Francesco da Santa Fiore, Pandolfo Petrucci’s secretary, who was returning to Florence. You will have learned from that letter that the French had been much maligned on the day previous, because they had refused to advance when so requested; and that they had been kept on foot the whole day, but that on the following morning matters seem to have been made up. I hear to-day that the cause of the dispute was that the Grand Master had demanded possession of Valleggio, a fortress situated on the Mincio, and which together with Peschiera commands the entire river. The French, wishing to obtain possession of this post, which they regarded as very important, as indeed it is, wanted on this occasion to try and make themselves masters of it; rumor says now that the matter is about to be adjusted. But what the French propose to do when they get possession of this fortress I do not know for certain, as the different reports about it vary very much. Some say that they pledge themselves to hold the place for the Emperor until such time as he shall be in condition to advance farther. Others maintain that they have promised to aid that sovereign in his attempt against Vicenza with 5,000 Swiss and 800 lances; but I cannot say which of these two versions is true; but whether they arrange the matter one way or the other, we shall soon see what it will result in.

This is all the news I have to communicate to your Lordships. Of the Emperor we hear nothing more than what I wrote in my last to your Lordships, to whom I recommend myself most humbly. Valete!

Servitor,

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret.

Verona,

2 December, 1509

Niccolo Machiavelli

7 December, 1509

Verona

LETTER X.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

My last was of the 2d; I sent it through Giovanni Borromei, whom I also charge with this one. I stated to your Lordships that the French wanted to have the castle of Valleggio placed in their hands in case they were to serve the Emperor, etc. “And soon after the Emperor sent letters to the castle of Valleggio ordering that fortress to be transferred to the king of France; which the commandant however was not willing to do; in consequence of which the French wanted to leave again. So that when this state of things became known to the Bishop, he sent a messenger this morning to the commandant of the castle with a letter ordering him to hand the place over to the French, and that on his return he would see whether it had been done.” The two ambassadors who, as I told you, had been sent by this city to the Emperor, have returned; they have filled the whole city with the brightest hopes, telling the people on behalf of his Majesty to be of good cheer, as he would be here very shortly with a powerful army, with which he confidently expects to terminate this war in the least possible time; so that everybody is delighted and has the highest expectations. These ambassadors report that they have left the Emperor between St. Michele and Botzen, some eighteen miles the other side of Trent; although it is said to-day that he is at Botzen attending with greatest diligence to all that can be done. “There are about 8,000 infantry here, Germans and others, and about 2,500 horse; and there are scattered here some 20,000 country people and strangers, which brings the population of the place to some 45,000. These consume every day 1,500 measures (mannali) of grain and a proportionate quantity of wine;  there is provision enough here for about two months. But the inhabitants of the place are poorly qualified to make further provision, and the Emperor cannot do everything.” . . . .

On this side the Venetians continue to scour and ravage the country, whilst the French confine themselves carefully to guarding this city. The Grand Master has returned within the last few days to Brescia, but is reported to have since gone back to Peschiera, it is supposed for the reasons which I have before mentioned to your Lordships. Nothing further occurs to me to say except to recommend myself to your Lordships. I learn that in all the places of which the Venetians make themselves masters, they cause the image of St. Mark to be painted, but with a sword in hand instead of a book; from which it would seem that they have learned to their cost that books and study do not suffice for the preservation of states. Valete!

Verona,

7 December, 1509

I have forgotten to mention to your Lordships, that on the 4th instant at about the twentieth hour some Spaniards attempted to force open a house in one of the suburbs called San Zeno, and the occupants defended themselves; whereupon one of the inhabitants of the suburbs rushed to the bell-tower and sounded the tocsin. In a few minutes the whole city was in arms, which was a dangerous thing, as it was some time before the real cause of the tumult was found out. But so soon as it was known the alarm subsided, and the individual who had sounded the tocsin was seized and hung. During this tumult all the German troops were on foot and assembled together, so that their number could readily be seen, and I counted eighteen banners, being about three hundred infantry per banner. When the tumult ceased, these troops returned and were quartered in the street of San Stefano within the town, directly under the foot of San Piero. They had previously been quartered outside of the city, but the term of these quarters had expired. In fine, this city continues in a state of alarm, and more especially the people from the country; and every day orders are published directing them to present themselves at a fixed hour before the Bishop. Valete iterum!

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret.

Niccolo Machiavelli

8 December, 1509

Verona

LETTER XI.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I wrote last to your Lordships yesterday, and send that letter at the same time with this one. The envoy who was sent to hand Castel Valleggio over to the French has not yet returned, and therefore I cannot explain to your Lordships how the thing passed off. It is true, everybody says that the place has been given up. Reason demanded that they should not delay too long before advancing, if they wished to benefit the city and be useful to the army, and at the same time do harm to the enemy; for there are troops enough here, and more arrive every day. Only yesterday evening several hundred Gascon infantry arrived from Peschiera. The Spaniards that are here have received money from the French, so that there is really nothing wanting for the advance of the troops except the final orders; and, as I have already said, it is important that these should be received without delay. For it is known that the Venetians are making intrenchments, which, if allowed to be completed, will make it very difficult, in the opinion of persons familiar with the country, to annoy the Venetians during the winter in the direction of Vicenza. The Duke of Ferrara will also have need that the Venetians should be restrained in that direction, so that they may not attack him at their convenience, as they have done within the past few days, of which attack different accounts have been given here; but knowing that your Lordships will have been fully advised of all the particulars by the Duke’s ambassador, I shall say nothing more about it.

This evening I had a conversation with a person just from Botzen, who had left there the day before yesterday; and this individual told me that he had left the Emperor there, who had made known his intention of leaving for Innspruck. The strangers who are in the habit of following the court remain at Trent, with orders not to leave, but to await him there, unless differently ordered by him.

I believe that if Chaumont comes here he will be accompanied by Francesco Pandolfini, who can keep your Lordships advised of what is going on here. In that case my remaining here would be quite useless; nor would it be of any advantage  to your Lordships that I should go to Innspruck to follow the Emperor; for it is evident that his Majesty wants no one near him to watch his movements. And as to the payments that remain yet to be made, the Emperor will no doubt have negotiated them at Trent, so that whoever is to receive the money will come direct to your Lordships at Florence. Thus my remaining here will be in every point of view superfluous; and I shall wait here to learn by your first letter what course I am to take. I am the more anxious to receive that letter, as I have not heard once from your Lordships since I left Florence.

I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret.

Verona,

8 December, 1509

Niccolo Machiavelli

12 December, 1509

Mantua

LETTER XII.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

Besides my other letters, I have written to your Lordships on the 2d, 7th, and 8th, and as these have not yet been forwarded by Giovanni Borromei, they will now be sent together with this one. The agent whom the Bishop had sent to Valleggio returned here on the 9th, and reports having handed that place over to the French, with the promise on their part to restore it at any moment on demand of the Emperor. He has made two inventories of the artillery and the munitions in the place, of which one copy has been left with the French and the other he has brought here with him. The French are now urged to march, but they reply that they are waiting for their infantry and for certain necessaries for the transport of the artillery. I hear also from a good source that, with the view of leaving this city in the rear with the greater safety, they demand one of the forts to be placed in their hands, and that the Bishop will hand the citadel over to them.

Now to enable your Lordships more fully to understand when you hear this city spoken of at any time hereafter, you must know that Verona bears some resemblance to Florence. For the city walls take in a portion of the hill, and the river Adige, which takes its rise in the mountains of Germany and runs near and parallel to the Lago di Garda, does not spread into  the plain, but turns to the left, and, skirting close along the mountains, divides the city of Verona in such wise that, looking towards Germany, a portion of the plain and the entire hill slope are on the other side of the Adige; and all the rest of the city, that looks towards Mantua, is on this side of the river. But very soon after leaving Verona the river turns from the mountains and takes its course through the plain. On the height, and as it were near the gate of San Giorgio, is the fort called San Piero; and somewhat higher up and about two bowshots’ length from this fort, and on the very summit of the hill, there is another fort, called San Felice. These two forts are guarded by the Germans, and if they were lost the city would be almost defenceless; but they are very strong, owing to their situation rather than to the strength of the walls. On this side of the Adige looking towards Mantua, where the country becomes level, as has been said, there are two other forts, one towards Peschiera, which is called the old castle, and the other towards Vicenza, which is called the citadel; these are about three bowshots distant from each other, and the outer wall of the city, running from one to the other, forms a half-circle. Besides this there is an inner wall running straight from the old castle to the citadel, and having a deep ditch on each side. In the space between the two walls and the two forts there are a number of houses, constituting the quarter of the Borgo di San Zeno. In this Borgo, or suburb, a portion of the French troops are quartered; but not satisfied with this, they also wanted the citadel, in which the Spanish troops are quartered. This explanation shows your Lordships of what portion of Verona the French are masters. The gentlemen continue to manifest the same disposition which I have mentioned in a former letter to your Lordships; their actual situation is bad, and they apprehend worse, seeing the unstable and changeable character of the Emperor, and that the Venetians are acting with renewed vigor, and that the whole country is favorable to the latter. They are consequently occupying themselves with great solicitude in removing their goods and chattels and their wives and children to Mantua. They still look hopefully, however, for the coming of Chaumont, who, as I have said above, is only waiting for his infantry and artillery to arrive, after which he will immediately come here.

I have mentioned to your Lordships that I had heard that  the Emperor had left Botzen for Innspruck. Since then we have positive news of his being at Augsburg, where he has convoked a Diet, so as to have everything in order to enable him to act with vigor in the spring. At this news all the followers of the court that were at Verona, and had remained here only because they were in doubt where to find the Emperor, or what they ought to do, have left here suddenly for that city. Thus, when I perceived this, I thought it well to come as far as here, where I arrived yesterday, and to send an express to your Lordships. And to do this without involving your Lordships in any extra expense I have chosen Marcone, my steward, for that purpose, so that you may inform me through him what you wish me to do now. Your Lordships’ predecessors had told me orally, that whenever the Emperor returned to Germany I should come back to Florence; nevertheless, I desire to have your Lordships’ special instructions upon this point, and beg you will be pleased to give me leave to return; for there seems to me no necessity for my going to Augsburg to learn the decisions of the Diet, which will not differ from those of the previous Diets. Moreover, the Emperor, unlike other princes, is averse to having the envoys of other sovereigns about him, and either dismisses those that come, or confines them to some special locality which he does not permit them to leave without his orders. Thus we see that he has ordered all those who were with him at Trent to remain there, and not to leave without his permission. As to my staying here for the purpose of learning what is going on, that seems to me equally unnecessary, for, as everything will have to pass through the hands of Chaumont, Francesco Pandolfini will always be able to give you earlier and better information than any one else. I therefore reiterate my request to be recalled, for you have it always in your power, in the event of the Emperor’s return here, or for any other reason, to send me back here. Should, however, your Lordships decide differently, then I pray that you will send back with my steward Marcone, who is the bearer of this, the courier Ardingo; for I require some one here who knows the country, and whom I can despatch to you so soon as the decisions of the Diet are known, which you could not expect otherwise, nor could you receive my letters, unless your Lordships are willing to incur the expense of keeping couriers passing regularly to and fro, as was done in the time of Francesco Vettori.

I must beg your Lordships also to send me money enough to pay my expenses for at least two or three months, including my servants and three horses, and to enable me, in case of need, to buy or change a horse, for in these places there is no one willing to help another with a sou. I again recommend myself to your Lordships, and beg you will send back Marcone with a prompt reply. I had forgotten to say, that of the fifty ducats which I received at Florence I have only eight left, which is all the money I have. Valete!

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret.

Mantua,

12 December, 1509

Niccolo Machiavelli

16 December, 1509

Mantua

LETTER XIII.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I wrote to your Lordships on the 12th, and sent it by my steward Marcone, and await your answer here. To-day Zerino came back from Brescia: and it is understood that the Grand Master will leave next Wednesday for Milan, which is just the contrary of what was expected when I left Verona. Matters do not seem to be pushed with the proper energy, for neither the Emperor nor the Grand Master is here, and I really do not see how the troops can take the field without the presence of either the one or the other; nor can I see, if they do not take the field, how the troops can remain many days longer in Verona, for this large number of troops will cause a famine, and a small number would expose the city to a thousand dangers. So that one cannot remain here with any degree of security; especially if we have to fear that which your Lordships in your letters of the 8th and 9th seem to apprehend. Nevertheless, I am ready to stay in any place you may indicate, there to await your Lordships’ commands as to what I am to do. Marcone will not have left Florence when Zerino arrives; you will thus be able to deliberate anew upon the course which you may desire me to take.

I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret.

Mantua,

16 December, 1509

THIRD MISSION TO THE COURT OF FRANCE.*

INSTRUCTIONS FROM PIERO SODERINI, GONFALONIERE, TO NICCOLO MACHIAVELLI,

2 June, 1510.†

After having executed all that the Ten have commissioned you to do, you will say to his Majesty the king, on my part, that I have no other desire in the world but three things, namely, the glory of God, the happiness of my country, and the welfare and honor of his Majesty the king of France. And as I cannot believe that my country can be happy without the glory and prosperity of the crown of France, I do not value the one without the other. You will also assure his Majesty, that my brother the Cardinal is inspired by the same feelings and opinions as myself; and if he has failed in his duty to call and pay his homage to his Majesty, it is because the Pope has never  been willing to give him permission to do so; and that he is bound to show all respect and obedience to his first master, who combines with his great authority so violent and impetuous a disposition that even princes are obliged to treat him with deference. Thus my brother must be held excused, and you must make his excuses, and recommend him to his Majesty the king. You will, moreover, say to his Majesty that my sole desire is that he may maintain and increase his credit and power in Italy; but to do this he must keep the Venetians down, and preserve his good relations with the Emperor of Germany, as he has done until now. And if it were possible, it would be an admirable thing to induce the king of Hungary to make war upon the Venetians in Dalmatia; for if they were to lose that province they would be completely ruined, and the king need not fear that they will ever recover from it. But if this cannot be done, you will nevertheless urge his Majesty to continue to cause them all possible expenses in that direction by protracting the war as he has done hitherto, so as to exhaust the Venetians as much as possible. For if his Majesty desires to secure his possessions in Italy, he must give his attention mainly to two points; the one to preserve friendly relations with the Emperor, and the other to continue to harass and enfeeble the Venetians. If he does this, he will have the Pope and Spain for him, for the one has no good troops, and the other is not in a situation to do him any harm. You must make his Majesty understand how sorry I am that the Pope is likely to employ Swiss troops, and that his Majesty must do all in his power to prevent it, as that would make it easier for him to keep the Pope down and to temporize with him. For if the Pope adds the support of the Swiss to the advantages which his money gives him and to his own personal character, it would make him too strong and audacious, and might lead to disastrous results. You will add, that according to my judgment his Majesty ought to make every effort not to break with the Pope; for even if a Pope’s friendship is of no great value, yet his enmity may do great harm, through the influence of the Church, and because you cannot make direct war upon him without provoking the enmity of the whole world. It is of importance to the king, therefore, to keep on good terms with the pontiff, which ought not to be difficult on account of the Pope’s not having many firm supporters on whom he can rely.  And if the Pope’s enmity can do him no harm, yet it may cause him to incur very heavy expenditures.

As to the Emperor, I have told you above, that I think it important that the king should temporize with him; and if the king, whilst incurring such heavy expenses out of love for the Emperor, were to ask him to cede Verona to him by way of compensation, I should very much desire him to do so, as it would more effectually secure to the king his possessions in Italy. But if this cannot be brought about, then you will suggest, on my part, that there is a third way that might be adopted; namely, to hand Verona over to some private gentleman, so that it would belong neither to the king nor the Emperor. Should this be done, it will afterwards be more easy for the king to get possession of it; for whoever is master of it will always find himself obliged to act according to the wishes of his more powerful neighbor.

You will call his Majesty’s attention to the fact that extraordinary fortifications are being built at Serezana, which if done by his order would be all very well, but if done without his knowledge then he ought to be informed of it, as it is a matter of much importance. And finally you will recommend me a thousand times to his Majesty.

Niccolo Machiavelli

7 July, 1510

Lyons

LETTER I.

Magnificent and Illustrious Signori, etc. —

I arrived here to-day and found your Lordships’ two letters of the 26th and 29th ultimo, containing further advices as to the state of things in Italy; which I will communicate on my arrival at court, and make such use of as your Lordships direct and according as matters may have more or less changed during the six or seven days which it will yet take for me to get to the court. After my arrival there, I shall advise your Lordships fully of all I can learn as to how matters are going on here.

I have heard that the Bishop of Tivoli, the Pope’s ambassador, left here two days ago to go to the court, where he had been sent with all possible speed by the Pope to make known  to the king the reasons for his having arrested Monseigneur d’Auch. Some one who met the Bishop on the road told me that he went most reluctantly to the court because he expected to have to treat of rather unpleasant matters; this person also learned from the Bishop that the king of Spain had a powerful fleet in Sicily, with ten thousand or more troops on board, which he kept there with the intention of employing them in case of need, either for his own use or for that of his allies in Italy. Your Lordships can learn from other sources with more certainty whether this be true or not. As for myself nothing could make me believe it if I saw the Pope less resolute against the French; but as his boldness must have some other support besides his mere sanctity, this sort of preparations must necessarily be true, or at least likely to become true.

Besides my duty of keeping your Lordships advised from day to day of what I learn here, I have nothing of importance to attend to excepting what relates to the presents that were promised at the conclusion of the late treaty with the king, as your Lordships may remember. It was for this reason that I remained so long on the road with Alessandro Nasi, so as to learn from him where those things were, and what I would have to do in the matter. He has fully informed me upon every point, and, as your Lordships will have learned all particulars from him, it is not necessary for me to repeat them here, and I shall confine myself to giving you merely the substance; namely, that by orders from the office in Florence he had promised to pay to Robertet and to Chaumont the amount due them at the next fair in August; and as they count upon this promise, it will have to be fulfilled. Nasi told me moreover that he did not think that the city could possibly exempt itself from the payment of the ten thousand ducats that had been sent here for account of the Cardinal d’Amboise, which had not been paid in consequence of the Cardinal’s death, and for the reasons which Nasi has made known to you.* And that he saw only one way to save that money, or at least to defer the payment of it for some time; and that was to divide the ten thousand ducats between the two above-named personages, as so much on account of their portion, and that this might probably satisfy them in full for what they have to receive; at  any rate, it would remove from before their eyes this bait, which would attract their attention and desire so long as it was there. But the paying the amount over to them would either cause the matter not to be spoken of any more, or it would anyhow be a great convenience to your Lordships in making the payments. Your Lordships must therefore write me how I am to act in this matter, in case I should be spoken to on the subject. I shall leave here for the court in a couple of days, and will thence report at length to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret.

Lyons,

7 July, 1510

Niccolo Machiavelli

18 July, 1510

Blois

LETTER II.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I arrived here yesterday evening, but as it was at a late hour I did not make my arrival known to any one. This morning, however, I called upon Robertet, and explained to him the object of my coming. I treated him with all the ceremony and politeness due to so good a friend of our republic; and he manifested pleasure at my mission, telling me that I had come just in time, as his Majesty was on the point of sending an envoy to Florence to ascertain your Lordships’ intentions towards him; and that he had taken umbrage at Marc Antonio’s having been allowed to leave, and at the recall of your ambassador without his being at once replaced by another to attend to these matters; that it was necessary, therefore, to efface this alienation by acts of kindness; and that his Majesty would let me know his intentions, which I ought promptly to communicate to your Lordships by a special courier. I replied to his Lordship in suitable terms, justifying your Lordships, etc.; and to prove to him that in the Marc Antonio business you had been undecided up to the 26th of the past month, I read to him the letter which you had written to me that very day; and thus with the truth it was easy for me to excuse your Lordships completely. I told him of the pass which you had given to Marc Antonio to go to Bologna, and the reasons that had induced you to do it; to which Robertet promptly replied, that it  was not to Bologna, but to Genoa, that Marc Antonio wanted to go.* I assured him that I had no knowledge whatever of that; “although by your letter of the 10th instant I was informed of the whole; but if he had learned that your Lordships had been in doubt whether you ought to refuse this pass to Marc Antonio and the Pope’s troops for Genoa, they would have thought they had discovered your intentions fully, and therefore I deemed it well that they should have the proposition and the reply here at the same time,” which, in whatever manner your Lordships may make it, will, I think, facilitate the reply which you will have to make to what I shall tell you further on.

I was afterwards introduced to his Majesty the king, and after presenting my credentials I stated to his Majesty in the most friendly and becoming language the object of my mission, and notified him of the appointment of an ambassador, who would be here so soon as the distinguished character of the individual and the condition of the roads and the seasons would permit. And I then entreated his Majesty to consider all these little things as merely ordinary matters, as in reality they were, and nothing else; and that a pass given to Marc Antonio did not deserve to excite hard thoughts and complaints against your Lordships, inasmuch as all your past acts were not such as deserved suspicions of this kind.

His Majesty received me most graciously, and said that he felt assured of your good faith and affection towards his person, for you had received many benefits at his hand that had been of great advantage to you, but that the time had come now to be more particularly assured of your feelings towards him; and then he said: “Secretary, I have no enmity either with the Pope or any one else; but as every day gives rise to new friendships as well as enmities, I desire that your Signori declare themselves without delay as to what and how much they will do in my favor if it should happen that either the Pope or any one else were to molest or attempt to molest my possessions in Italy. Therefore send an express at once, so that I may have a prompt reply, which they may make by letter or by word of mouth, as they may think proper. But I  want to know who are my friends and who my enemies; and say to your Signori, that in return I offer them for the safety of their state all the forces of my kingdom, and if need be I will come myself.”

His Majesty charged me again to communicate this promptly to your Lordships, and to ask for an immediate reply; and told me to prepare this despatch together with Robertet. I replied to his Majesty that I had nothing to say in answer to what he had said to me, except that I would write to your Lordships with all the diligence which he had charged me to employ. I thought I could safely assure him that your Lordships were incapable of failing in the strict compliance with the stipulations of the treaty concluded with his Majesty, and that you were ready to do all that was reasonable and possible. To which his Majesty replied, that he had no doubts on that point, but that he wanted still more positive assurance. I also spoke to his Majesty of the sending of Tommaso to Venice, and of the object of his mission, to which he seemed to attach but little importance.

After this I accompanied Robertet to his lodgings, and remained some little time with him; he repeated to me the same thing that the king had said to me about writing to you, and we agreed that I should bring the letters to him, and that he would forward them by the king’s post to Lyons, and that I should arrange to have them sent from there by a special courier. I have accordingly written to that effect to Bartolommeo Panciatichi, and your Lordships will please to reimburse him the expense, of which he will inform you. Robertet touched again briefly upon the subjects of the ambassador and Marc Antonio; and although he was convinced of the truth of what I had told him, yet he observed that you had many enemies here, who promptly seized every opportunity to calumniate you; and therefore it was well in these times not to give them the chance to speak ill of you; and that it was important that they should be informed here by the first courier that the ambassador had already started, and that your Lordships should act towards Marc Antonio in such a manner as to show that his arrangement with the Pope had not been made with your consent, and that he remained on Lucchese territory, or was going elsewhere. “He then broached the subject of Genoese matters, and spoke of the favors which the Lucchese had  shown to certain exiles, and how much they had helped in stirring up a revolution in Genoa;” but that the king was resolved to pay them for this, and that it would be well for you to think of this, as in troubles of that sort there was always something to be gained. He told me furthermore, that as soon as matters became so hot as to cause any apprehensions, the king would come down into Italy as quickly as any private person, even if it were in midwinter, and that then he would make no terms with any one that had shown himself hostile to him except at the point of the sword. These were times, therefore, when one ought to know how to take a resolution, particularly as experience had so often shown the king’s readiness for war, the strength and resources of this kingdom, the fortunate success of his enterprises, and his friendly disposition towards our city and government. So that any one not blinded by passion must see clearly that there was nothing that could interfere with the prosperity of France and the success of the king’s enterprises, except the king’s death, for which there were no reasonable grounds for apprehension at the present. “I recommend you, therefore, once more to write to your Signori that these are times when much can be gained by making one’s self agreeable.”

There is here at this moment a great embassy from the king of England, which is going to Rome. I have not been able to learn the object of it, but Robertet tells me, and I learn the same from others, that these ambassadors have made a general address to the king in presence of the principal nobles of the realm, in which they spoke in the most forcible manner of the strong friendship and union existing between their sovereign and the king of France; and that they had gone so far as to say that their sovereign esteemed the king of France to that degree that he looked upon him almost as his father. After this long interview I left Robertet.

In your Lordships’ letter of the 29th, you express a wish to know upon what the Pope founds the arrogance with which he acts towards the French. According to what I have been able to learn in the short time that I am here, no one knows anything positive about it, and therefore they mistrust everything and everybody. “Your Lordships see what they do to satisfy themselves as to your intentions, and they ought even to do more, and as promptly as possible to ascertain the intentions  of other states.” I learn from a friend, what, however, is only conjecture, that the support upon which the Pope relies with most confidence at present is his money and the Swiss; and that he counts upon his authority to carry Spain and the Emperor along with him. From Spain he must have received good promises; for it was seen that in his enterprise against Bologna he left Rome without having concluded anything definite either with France or any other power, and yet by his sole audacity and authority he carried them all along with him.

For once, however, the rupture between the Pope and the king of France may be said to be positive, seeing how openly the Pope has shown himself in this affair of Genoa, and considering the complaints against him here. As to the Swiss, I know for certain that within the past eight days the Pope sent them thirty-six thousand ducats for six thousand men, which he wanted them to levy at once. The Swiss took the money, and then declared that they would not raise the men unless they had three months’ pay, and that the Pope must send eighteen thousand ducats more; and on the 11th of the month they sent a courier from Geneva to Rome to demand these additional eighteen thousand ducats. Some think that the Pope wanted these men to overturn the government of Genoa; but it is not known whether the Duke of Savoy will grant them passage through his territory. Thus no one can judge how all this will end, and we must wait for the results as they manifest themselves from day to day. The king ordered the recall of his ambassadors from Rome, but has since then suspended this order.

I beg your Lordships to come to some decision in relation to the matter I wrote about from Lyons. To-day Robertet told me frankly that he bore and had borne for you pondus diei et æstus, etc.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret.

Blois,

18 July, 1510

LETTER III.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

On the 18th I wrote to your Lordships, and sent the letter through Robertet to Bartolommeo Panciatichi at Lyons, with instructions to forward it by express to Florence. I presume it has safely reached your hands; the reply is eagerly awaited here. Yesterday I called upon Monseigneur de Paris, one of the ministers at present at the head of affairs; I spoke to him ceremoniously, and in a manner suitable to the individual and the circumstances. This prelate is of a calm temper and is reputed wise; and truly he could not have spoken more discreetly of your Lordships and of the events that are approaching. He remarked, “that the Pope made a great mistake in exposing himself and all the states of Italy to great danger for no other purpose than to injure others; and that if this war was carried any further, it would be the greatest and most obstinate war that had been seen for a long time, because the king, just in proportion as he had bestowed benefits upon the Pope and had earnestly sought his friendship, so he would then show himself his bitter and unrelenting foe, and pursue him in his states and even in his person, and that he should feel himself justified in doing this before God and men.” And then, turning to other matters, he said, “that before God and men you could not be other than good Frenchmen, and that the king had never had any other opinion, and that you would see such military preparations in Italy for the defence of his own possessions, as well as those of his friends, as would relieve you of any apprehensions. And that even if the Pope were to declare himself your enemy, that ought in no way to hold you back; for his Majesty the king did not hesitate to declare himself against the Pope to serve your republic in the Arezzo business, and to oblige the son of the Sovereign Pontiff to come to him with the halter around his neck. So that now you ought to render him similar service, and declare yourselves in good time, so that the benefit of it would be the more agreeable, and might also result in advantage to your Lordships.” He alluded here to the Lucca business.

I replied to Monseigneur de Paris in a becoming manner, and after leaving him I called on the Chancellor, who is a man of hot and passionate temper. He assailed me at once with reproaches, both in relation to the ambassador who had left, as well as to Marc Antonio, saying that these were acts of an evil nature and calculated to fill every one with suspicion. And although he poured out a perfect torrent of words, because I did not remain quietly to listen to all he had to say, yet he calmed down a little before I left him. In his remarks he said more particularly, “that, if your Lordships were really good friends of France, you would, whenever the Pope communicated to you anything adverse to France, give notice of it here, and on the other hand show the Pope that your Lordships did not wish to hold any communication with him; but that you had done nothing of the kind.” I replied, “that at the time of my departure from Florence there was not a man in the whole city who imagined that any difference could arise between his Majesty and the Pope; and that therefore it was not necessary to resort to any such measures; and that since my leaving Florence I did not know what the Pope could have said or done to your Lordships; but that as regards the affair of Marc Antonio you had communicated to the king all that had come to your knowledge, and that, if anything else of moment had occurred, you would certainly have communicated it also.” Thereupon I left him, as I have said, considerably calmed down.

I have yet to call on Monseigneur d’ Amiens, and Monseigneur de Bunicaglia, two other principal members of the council. I have not done so before, owing to the difficulty of finding them at home; during all these movements they are always together, and it is almost impossible to see them separately. I have, however, spoken to both of them together on my arrival, and since then in the presence of the king. I have called upon the Spanish ambassador, on whose behalf I have a thousand offers of service to make to your Lordships, which he says he has been charged with by his sovereign. I have also called upon the Emperor’s ambassadors, there being two, one resident here and the other arrived here only a few days since per post, for the purpose, as I hear, of preventing the king’s troops “from ceasing to make war upon the Venetians.” Besides their formal civilities, they assured me with many protestations  that it would be impossible for his Imperial Majesty and the king to be more united than what they are; and that their sovereign would never separate himself from the king of France. Time will show how true this is.

Afterwards I called upon the Pope’s ambassador, who is really a most respectable gentleman, of great sagacity and experience in the affairs of state. I found him greatly dissatisfied with all these movements, and perfectly astonished that things have so suddenly come to the point of drawing the sword. And if he has told me the truth, he seems to be more doubtful than any one else as to the resources and arrangements of the Pope, assuring me that he knew nothing about them, and begging me to tell him whether I had received any information on the subject from your Lordships. He added, that when he reflected as to what sort of a war this was likely to be, and how desperate the attacks and defence, he actually trembled with fear. And, in conclusion, he lamented the errors committed in France as well as in Italy, of which the poor people and the smaller princes would be the first victims; and that, so far as he was concerned, he had left nothing undone to preserve peace, but that he had no longer any hope of it. “He seemed altogether amazed at the conduct of the Pope, for he did not see that he had at present any forces commensurate with these movements, nor did he see where the Pope could obtain them, or to what extent he could rely on them. And knowing the Pope to be prudent and serious, he could not believe that he would have acted lightly in these matters, inasmuch as he was well aware of his own needs and of those of the Church.” This is all I have been able to learn from this personage. In fact, no one here knows upon what foundations the Pope bases his actions, and thus, as I have said in a previous letter, “as nothing is really known here, they are afraid of everything and of everybody.”

News has been received here that twenty-two Venetian galleys have been signalled in our waters, but no one knows how they could have come there without the consent of Spain. We also learn to-day from Chaumont, that the Marquis of Mantua is free, and is going to Rome to see the Pope. Robertet has to-day communicated this fact to the Pope’s ambassador here. We are informed that some Genoese exiles have landed at Spezzia, and have approached within a few miles of Genoa;  and this morning Robertet told me, with anything but a cheerful face, that Marc Antonio had gone in that direction. We hear consequently that it has been decided, unless they should change their mind, to break up the army that had been organized against the Venetians, and to leave five hundred lances with the Emperor’s troops, so as not to fail in the engagements which they have contracted with him, and to send three hundred lances to Ferrara with a like number of infantry. All the other men-at-arms and infantry will be sent into the territory of Parma, to be employed in the defence of Genoa, or against Tuscany, after Genoa shall have been secured, etc.

“I have had some intimation that these French troops may possibly go and establish themselves in the territory of the Lucchese, for the purpose of punishing them, and preventing their giving support to the Genoese exiles who have gone there from here; and at the same time to encourage you to declare in favor of the king of France. I have heard nothing further of interest up to the present. As to what is being said here of the Pope, your Lordships can readily imagine it: to throw off his authority, to summon him before a council, and to destroy his temporal and spiritual power, — these are some of the least evils with which they threaten him.”

I have nothing more to write, except to recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret.

Blois,

21 July, 1510

Niccolo Machiavelli

22 July, 1510

Blois

LETTER IV.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

My first letter to your Lordships since my arrival here at court was of the 18th, and, as it contained matters of the greatest importance, I sent it through Robertet to Bartolommeo Panciatichi at Lyons, in accordance with the king’s wishes, directing Bartolommeo, at the same time, to forward it to you by express. Although I feel quite sure that it has arrived safely, yet by way of extra precaution, and to make doubly sure, I enclose herewith a brief summary of its contents, which I could not send yesterday with the long letter I wrote to your Lordships, as the  courier could not wait until I had written it. And therefore I resolved to send it to-day, and should not otherwise have written again, having reported to you fully yesterday all that had taken place here. So there is nothing left for me to say in this, except that after a solemn mass this morning his Majesty publicly, and in presence of the English ambassadors, ratified by a solemn oath the treaty that had been concluded between his Majesty and the king of England during the past month; it having been previously ratified by the king of England in the same way by a solemn oath. It is now said that these ambassadors will not go to Rome, as stated in my first letter, but that they will return to England. In fact, the Pope’s ambassador told me this morning that there was no truth in the first report that these ambassadors were going to Rome, as they had come here exclusively for the ratification of the treaty.

Since writing the above, I have seen Robertet, who overwhelmed me with complaints against your Lordships, telling me that yesterday evening the king had complained very much because you had not advised him of anything, nor given him any information about Italian affairs, although you knew more about them than any one else; and that this want of civility on your part was due to nothing else than because you had not yet fully relieved your mind of all the ill feeling against him. Robertet added to this many harsh expressions of his own, which I shall not repeat, as I do not wish to weary your Lordships. I excused your Lordships, and corrected these opinions as best I could; but, as every one that has ever been here knows, these people close their ears to all one can say to them, and therefore, O Magnificent Signori, if you desire not to lose the friendship of the French, you must show them that you really mean to be their friend. And if you cannot do this in any other way, at least do not fail to send frequent letters and information, and do not hesitate from time to time to send a special courier to keep them advised of the state of affairs in Italy, so as to give to whoever may be here the opportunity of showing your good will, and thus preserve your Lordships’ credit with them.

The blow which the Pope has attempted to inflict upon the French is of such a character, and is so keenly felt by the king, that I believe I am safe in expressing the opinion that he will revenge himself with great satisfaction and honor, or lose all  his Italian possessions; and that he will promptly pass the mountains with double the vigor of former years; and everybody believes that he will do much more than what he threatens if England and the Emperor remain firm, of which there appears no doubt.

It is understood that the French have raised ten thousand men for the Genoese business, besides the men-at-arms which they have sent there. As these troops will be in your neighborhood, your Lordships will with your usual wisdom take a prompt resolution, which on that account will prove the more acceptable.

I recommend myself to your Lordships.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret.

Blois,

22 July, 1510

Niccolo Machiavelli

25 July, 1510

Blois

LETTER V.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I have received through Francesco Pandolfini two of your Lordships’ letters of the 12th instant. . . . . I shall write to-morrow to your Lordships more fully and more at my ease, and send these lines merely to acknowledge receipt of those letters, as a courier is just leaving for Milan; I send this under cover to Francesco Pandolfini. Since my being here I have written to your Lordships on the 18th, 21st, and 22d; and earnestly hope those letters have reached you safely. The French have received good news this morning from Genoa, and are all in the highest spirits about it. Valete!

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret.

Blois,

25 July, 1510

Niccolo Machiavelli

26 July, 1510

Blois

LETTER VI.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

Your Lordships’ letters of the 16th instant, sent to me through Francesco Pandolfini, being full of good news, “counsels, and resolutions, has had the effect of completely assuring the French that your Lordships desire to preserve their friendship. To come to particulars. So soon as I received those letters yesterday evening, I went to see Robertet, and informed him of everything. He was greatly rejoiced, and said, ‘It seems your Signori are now doing all that the king wished them to do; it will be well, therefore, that his Majesty should know all this.’ But as it was too late last night, I presented myself early this morning before the king, and related to him all the particulars, and read to him the contents of your letters. When I came to tell him of the adherents upon which he had counted, beginning with the Siennese, his Majesty said to me, ‘Do not these hold some town of yours, I know not exactly which?’ And on my answering, ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘If God gives me life, they will not hold it much longer, nor their own city either. Write this to your Signori, and bid them be of good cheer.’ When I came next to speak of the Marquis of Mantua, the king said that he had been liberated, but ought to be careful where he went. As to the Emperor, he said that he felt quite sure of him. But of the Swiss he said, ‘By my faith, I am in doubt whether to let them pass or not, for I do not know whether it would be better that the Pope should be unarmed, or that he should have armor on his back that will hurt him.’ And then he spoke of the character of the Swiss, saying that, with all his wealth and power, he had found it most difficult to manage them, and concluded that they would have treated him as they did the Duke Lodovico; but that he had taken measures to hold them to their engagements. After that his Majesty thanked your Lordships for the reply you intended to make to the Pope as  to the passage of troops for Genoa; and as to the trouble which he caused you, he would order that all the troops which he had in the direction of Florence should always be at your call whenever you might have need of them. And as to the measures taken with regard to Genoa, he said,” Genoa was safe, for he had letters yesterday evening telling him that three thousand infantry had entered the city; also the son of Messer Gian Luigi del Fiesco with six hundred men, and a nephew of the Cardinale del Finale with as many more; and that the exiles, with the troops they had taken there, had withdrawn; and that his galleys, together with some Genoese vessels, had gone in pursuit of the Venetian galleys, which dared not wait for them. Thus his Majesty regards Genoa as safe, and the whole court is rejoicing and keeping holiday to-day. He told me that in consequence of this event the Venetians could neither advance nor attempt any movement of importance; for besides the large number of his own troops, there were those of the Emperor and of Spain, and that all this force was not only sufficient to hold the Venetians in check, but even to combat them. And then, speaking of the king of Spain, “his Majesty said to me that his fleet had gone there, but that he had not given the king of Spain any cause for enmity, nor did he believe that he had any such feeling towards him, for the very credit and influence which his friendship gave the king of Spain sustained him in Castile. And as to your Lordships, and the advice and information which you had sent him, he told me to go and see his Chancellor and Robertet, and give them a little memorandum of it. I have accordingly seen them since then, and they have taken note to send two hundred lances to Serezana, and thus recover that place from the hands of San Giorgio, and from Rafaellino, who had been sent to Savona. Thus it seems to me that the king and his counsellors attach much importance to your information and counsels; and therefore I hope that, if your Lordships deem it well to keep the king and his ministers in good humor, you will continue sedulously to send them similar information.”

This is all I have been able to learn from the king or his ministers in relation to the advices you have sent me. Nor is there any further news in relation to Genoese affairs beyond what his Majesty had told me.

All the above was written on the 25th. To-day is the 26th,  and news from Genoa received to-day confirms what we had heard from there yesterday. A grand council of the people had been held, at which some three hundred citizens were present, and the question came up whether the funds of the Bank of San Giorgio should be employed to defend the city in behalf of the king of France; it was so decided with only eight dissenting votes. His Majesty spoke of it this morning with the English ambassadors, and said publicly that the Florentines had refused to allow the Pope’s troops to pass through their territory on their way to Genoa; and that the Florentines were his great and good friends.

I have called to see the ambassador of the Marquis of Mantua, to know how he viewed the liberation of his master. He told me that he could not regard this liberation as having any other ground than the hope of the Pontiff to avail himself of services of the Marquis in the present movements, or perhaps some promise which the Marquis had made to the Pope. And when I told the ambassador that, if it were the latter, the Marquis must either break his old engagements with the king of France, or the new ones with the Pope, he answered, that promises made in captivity need not be observed, and that his master would never take sides against his Majesty of France; and that even if, for the sake of gaining his liberty, he had been forced personally to oppose the king, yet his states would never do anything to displease his Majesty, but would always remain firm in their devotion to him.

I am fully aware, as I have already said in former letters, that your Lordships desire much to know the course which Spain and the Emperor are going to take, and I should be very glad to be able to give you some information on that point, but cannot well see the way to do it, for it is not likely that these sovereigns would write here to communicate their intentions; and thus their ambassadors remain in the dark, and all that could be said here about it would be mere conjecture; and your Lordships are in a situation to form such conjectures much better than I can here. As regards England, I will only say that on Sunday last, as I have already mentioned in a former letter, the peace between the king of England, as represented by his ambassadors, and the king of France, was solemnly sworn  in presence of all the foreign ambassadors and the whole court. And when I told his Majesty that the Pope also counted upon England, he laughed, and said, “You have heard yourself the oath of peace,” etc.

This movement of the Pope displeases everybody here; all seem to think that he seeks to ruin Christianity, and to accomplish the destruction of Italy. But as his attempt upon Genoa proved a failure, it is to be hoped that, if he does not persist in his obstinacy, and does not wish to cause so much ill, matters may yet be arranged, and the more easily if there are good intermediaries. For although the injury which the Pope intended to inflict upon the crown of France was very great, nevertheless as he failed in it, and, on the other hand, an attempt on the part of the king to revenge himself being fraught with much danger, inasmuch as there could not be a more honorable action for a prince than to attack another in defence of the Church, the result might well be that his Majesty, by openly attacking the Pope, would expose himself to the enmity of the whole world. Thus it is believed that he would readily yield to good counsels, and that even an attack upon Ferrara would not prevent it. It only remains, then, that the Pope should want that which ought to be. His pride having been brought down a little by the ill success of the attempt upon Genoa, he will have seen from the failure of his first steps that the difficulties of the enterprise are greater than he supposed. And if this shall have made him a little more timid, ways and means ought not to be wanting to make sure of him; particularly if, as I have said, there are good mediators. I have been requested, therefore, by a personage of worth and authority, to beg your Lordships not to hesitate to undertake this negotiation, and to use your influence to make the Pope understand all that you can discreetly say to him; for this person apprehends that, if it were attempted from here, it would not be well received. I wanted to write to your Lordships these last particulars, thinking that I should not transcend the bounds of my duty in communicating to you all I see and hear here at court. Valete!

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secr. apud R. Chr.

Blois,

26 July, 1510

Niccolo Machiavelli

29 July, 1510

Blois

LETTER VII.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

My last letter was of the 26th, in reply to two from your Lordships of the 12th instant; in that letter I reported all that had taken place here up to that day, and particularly that those letters had caused his Majesty to be entirely satisfied with your Lordships. Yesterday I received another letter from you, of the 16th, and although the news it contains is already old, nevertheless, by way of showing his Majesty that you did not fail even for one day in your duty to him, I presented myself this morning before him, and communicated to him the entire contents of your letter, with all of which he was well satisfied; telling me that he had been already informed by the Grand Master that your Lordships had been very zealous in keeping him fully advised of every occurrence. His Majesty also told me that he had news from Chaumont that his troops had captured Monselice in the most glorious manner possible; and that, after taking the town by assault, they had with the same ardor taken the castle, where they had killed some six hundred men or more, not permitting one to escape. His Majesty smiled at this and said, “Last year I was looked upon as a bad man, because in a battle which I fought so many men were killed; now Monseigneur de Chaumont will be regarded the same.” His Majesty told me that the commander at Monselice had been a man from Berzighella, but he did not know his name, and that during the fight the Monselice men had all cried, “Julio!” “Julio!” All this his Majesty related to me with infinite pleasure. He told me also that he had no news from Genoa, but that order had been at once restored there, and everything satisfactorily settled. As Bartolommeo Panciatichi had written me from Lyons that all letters were opened in Lombardy, not excepting your Lordships’, I spoke to his Majesty about it, especially as your last letters were handed to me open, and begged him to be pleased to order the officials charged with that business to discontinue opening the letters to and from your Lordships. His Majesty said it should be done, and asked me to tell Robertet of it in his behalf; that a general order for the opening of letters had been given prior to my arrival, and that since my coming they had not thought of exempting your Lordships’  letters from this general order. I have since then spoken to Robertet about it, who promised me to send the necessary instructions in relation to it by the very next courier.

The ambassador from Ferrara told me this morning that the Pope’s troops, after taking the two castles mentioned in your Lordships’ letters of the 16th, have laid siege to another castle, but as he did not remember the name I cannot give it to you. On the approach of the Pope’s troops, the garrison of the castle made a sortie and captured twenty-three men-at-arms of the Pope’s forces. The King was delighted when he heard this. I asked the Ferrarese ambassador how many men the Pope had employed in this enterprise, but he could not tell me, and complained that his master did not keep him well informed. He said that he had urgently requested the king to aid the Duke with infantry, and that his Majesty had given him the best hopes. We shall see what will come of it.

As already mentioned in my former letters, it is reported that the Marquis of Mantua is at Bologna; and his ambassador here begins to apprehend that his liberation may make his condition rather worse as regards his states. His proceedings are being watched, which will enable us to form a better judgment of his conduct.

Whilst writing this the ambassador of the king of Würtemberg has returned here, it being now the twenty-third hour. He is a German gentleman, accompanied by a suite of about a dozen cavaliers. He was met on his entrance into the city and received with all the honors. So soon as I learn why he left here, and why he returns, I will inform your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Blois,

29 July, 1510

The English ambassadors left here two days ago to return to their country, laden with honors and presents.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret. apud R. Chr.

P. S. — To-day is the 30th, and we have news this morning that the troops which had gone by land to overturn the government of Genoa, finding themselves pursued, have in great part re-embarked on board the Venetian fleet. Each galley has taken six cavaliers and their captain; and about one hundred  cavaliers have rallied together to try and cut their way out. They are not without hopes here that some mishap may befall the Venetian fleet.

We also hear that the Marquis of Mantua has sent for his son, to place him in the hands of the Pope; whereupon the king has sent word to the ambassador of the Marquis to try to induce the Marchioness to oppose it, and the ambassador is of the opinion that she will never consent to it, and that secretly the Marquis would be pleased that she should refuse to give up the son.

The object of the Würtemberg ambassador’s coming is said to be the following. The king of France, seeing the conduct of the Swiss, and the hopes which the Pope builds upon them, has resolved, for the purpose of making them pause and reflect so that they may not so readily serve the Pope, to give them some trouble, or at least to menace them through the king of Würtemberg, who is their natural enemy. The Duke’s ambassador has passed nearly the whole of to-day at the council in deliberating as to the steps to be taken in this matter.

His Majesty has also sent the captain of his Swiss bodyguard to Switzerland, to try on the one hand to win back, if not all the Cantons, at least a part of them, and so we shall soon see whether by menaces or by persuasion these Swiss can be detached from the Pope.

Niccolo Machiavelli ut supra.

Niccolo Machiavelli

3 August, 1510

Blois

LETTER VIII.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

Your Lordships are aware, from what I wrote you a few days since, that the Pope had not succeeded in his attempt to overturn the government of Genoa; and that the king of France, on the one hand, had been more frightened than hurt, and that, on the other hand, the Pope, by showing himself the open enemy of the king of France, so far from causing him any serious trouble, had rather strengthened his Majesty’s position, in more securely consolidating his authority in Genoa. His Holiness having thus failed in gaining the advantages which he had promised himself by this movement, it seemed to the  good and sensible men of this court that possibly an agreement between the king and the Pope might be hoped for, if a loyal mediator could be found, who would intervene for the good of Christendom in general and Italy in particular. For it would be easy to show to the king in what position he would place himself if he attempted to make war upon the Pope, and what damage he might suffer himself by a proceeding, the cost of which would be certain, but the final result most doubtful. And in the same way the Pope could with like facility be persuaded of the ills which this war might bring not only to himself personally, but also to the temporal and spiritual authority of the Church, as well as to all Christendom.

Matters being in this position, and having several times conversed with the Pope’s ambassador here, who is grieved to the heart by these movements, Robertet one evening sent for Giovanni Girolami, who is the business agent here of his Eminence the Cardinal Volterra, as Alessandro Nasi can tell you; and after having first talked with him about some of his private affairs, Robertet suddenly turned the conversation upon these troubles that are brewing, and complained to him bitterly about these movements, and demonstrated to him that they could not but cause regret and injury both to the victor and the vanquished. And going from one argument to another he concluded by saying that, if the Pope were disposed to make peace, he would be met half-way by the king; and that the Pope ought to do so, unless indeed the Almighty had inspired him with obstinacy for the ruin of the world. But that anyhow he did not see clearly how a peace could be brought about unless some third party intervened, inasmuch as the king would never be the first to yield, and as the Pope would probably take the same ground. And having therefore thought much as to how such an agreement might possibly be brought about, he saw but one way, and that was that your Lordships and the Cardinal Volterra should undertake the mediation, as any others would only spoil the matter by trying to gain advantages for themselves from this enmity. And then he intimated to Giovanni that it would be well that he should go himself for this purpose to Florence. Giovanni, on the one hand, expressed his willingness to go, but on the other hand declared that the negotiation should be managed in such a way that your Lordships should clearly see what sort of business they  entered upon, and that you ought to be well assured of the intentions of the king, so as to be sure that neither you nor any one else should be duped; and that he believed, if this were done, you would readily undertake the mediation, knowing how greatly your Lordships desired peace and concord between the two sovereigns, and how much you dreaded discord, from which nothing but enmity and disaster would result. Nothing was concluded that evening, but another meeting was agreed upon.

When Giovanni related all this to me, I thought it best not to discourage this negotiation, but rather to urge it forward as much as possible, and communicated it to the Pope’s ambassador, not as to a party interested, but as to a mediator, who would be useful in such a negotiation. He thought the conversation with Robertet very opportune and to the purpose for those who really aimed at the good of all, and resolved to go and see the king. Having done so, he pointed out to his Majesty the dangers to which he exposed himself, and the frauds that had been practised underhandedly to bring the Pope to the point where he was. He showed his Majesty first the suspicions which the king of Spain had conceived in regard to their alliance; for scarcely two months since the reported treaty between them, the king of Spain, having become suddenly apprehensive that the treaty would operate to his disadvantage, sent a fleet to Sicily, under pretence of another enterprise. Afterwards, when the disputes with Ferrara broke out, the Spanish representative here persuaded the king of France not to abandon Ferrara, whilst the Spanish envoy at Rome demonstrated to the Pope that his Majesty of France had done wrong to defend the Duke of Ferrara; and that it was in this way that they had brought matters to the point where they wanted them. His Majesty ought therefore to think well as to the course he was about to engage in; for if the Pope had tried to do him an injury, he had not succeeded in the attempt, and therefore it would be well to forget it rather than to give him cause to think of attempting another, which might succeed. To all this he added a number of other reasons, which I will not relate lest I should become tedious. The king listened to all this patiently, and then replied: “I admit the truth of all you say, but what would you have me do? I shall never be the first to declare myself. The Pope has struck a blow at me, but I will bear all except the loss of honor and my state. But I promise  you faithfully that if the Pope makes any demonstration of affection towards me, be it only the thickness of my fingernail, I will go the length of my arm to meet him; but otherwise I shall not move an inch.”

The ambassador thought that he had sufficiently discovered the king’s disposition in the matter, and took his leave. After that he passed more than an hour with Robertet discussing the best way of proceeding in this business; and in view of what Giovanni Girolami had said, they concluded it would be best to have him go to Florence, and try to persuade your Lordships to undertake the task of acting as mediators between the Pope and his Majesty of France; but that it would be necessary for you to act as though it were spontaneous with you, and that you should send at once one or two ambassadors to Rome for this particular purpose. When informed of their conclusion, I observed to them that, to induce your Lordships the more readily to undertake this office of mediators, it would be necessary that I should be able to write to you that this attempt would be most agreeable to his Majesty and that your undertaking it would be very gratifying to him; and that, if his Majesty was not willing to say this to me himself, it should at least be said to me by his counsellors. And so it was decided that Robertet should communicate the whole project to the king; namely, the sending of Giovanni to Florence, and your proposed intervention, as well as the manner of making it known to your Lordships. Robertet was entirely satisfied with this, and this morning, whilst his Majesty had gone to breakfast, Monseigneur de la Tremouille, who for two weeks has assisted at every council together with Robertet and the Chancellor, called me, and, after some sharp words against the Pope, said to me that, notwithstanding all this, as Giovanni Girolami was going to Florence, he wished to tell me on the part of the king that his Majesty was satisfied and would have great pleasure in your Lordships’ intercession between the Pope and himself, and that you should send ambassadors to Rome for this purpose, and manage the whole affair as you thought best. The business then stands thus. Giovanni, who will bring you this letter, goes per post to Florence, and will tell you orally all I have written, and give you any further particulars that you may wish to know in relation to this affair. And so that your Lordships may know how this affair is to be managed to  the satisfaction of France, Robertet said (and doubtless with the full knowledge of the king) that if the Pope would submit his claims upon Ferrara to arbitration, his Majesty would be satisfied, and would not care to whose hands the Pope were to confide this arbitration. This, however, relates rather to the conclusion of the affair, than to the way of initiating it; it would suffice that the Pope should put a stop to the preparations he is making against the king of France, such as the stirring up of the Swiss and the other powers; and that his Holiness should orally express to your ambassadors his wish to be a father to the king, provided that his Majesty would act the part of a good son to him. And that the Pope should write a brief to the king to that effect, who upon receiving it would be prepared to send an envoy to Rome; and that, if the negotiations were begun in this way, he doubted not but what good would result from it.

Your Lordships will now with your habitual prudence take into consideration what I have written, and what Giovanni will communicate to you, and will then decide upon such measures as you may deem most proper; but in all this business the greatest promptness is most necessary.

I have not discouraged these overtures, because I think that the enmity between these two sovereigns would be one of the greatest misfortunes that could befall our city, for the reasons which you have seen and heard from the first origin of the difficulty; and therefore I have regarded all means as good that may be employed to bring about a peace. And I cannot but think that in becoming mediators your Lordships will gain great advantages, whether the negotiation succeeds or not. If it succeeds, then it will bring about the peace we so much hope for and desire, and we shall escape the dangers which the war would bring to our very doors. And the more important the part which you take in the matter, the greater will be the satisfaction and the advantages which you will derive from it. For you will have laid both the king and the Pope under obligations, having labored for their interests no less than for your own. And if it does not succeed, his Majesty of France will remain equally obliged to you for having done that which he approved of, and for having given him, in the face of the whole world, more just grounds than ever for his contentions with the Pope. Nor will the Pontiff be able to complain of you if,  after your efforts to persuade him to a peace, which he has rejected, you should take part against him in the war. All these considerations induced me to become so readily mixed in these negotiations, and if your Lordships approve of my course, I should prize it highly; but if not, then I must entreat you to excuse me, for in my position here I could not view the matter differently.

His Majesty is pushing his arrangements and preparations most vigorously. He has ordered a meeting of a general council of all the prelates of his realm for the middle of September, at Orleans. He has taken the Duke of Würtemberg into his pay, so as to have German troops and check the movements of the Swiss, and at the same time he has sent the captain of his Swiss guard amongst them to try and recover, if not all, at least a part of the Cantons. He has ordered all the captains of his infantry to make out their muster-rolls, so as to be ready to start at any moment, and has ordered out the ban and rearban for the protection of his realm, also a supply of horses for a remount if necessary; and has also prescribed new ways of raising money for the expenses of the war, without touching his private treasury.

The arrival of Monseigneur de Gurck is looked for here; he is the most important man of the Emperor. The king intends to propose to Monseigneur de Gurck that the Emperor shall hold himself in readiness to march in the spring with such troops as he may have or may be able to raise. His Majesty is resolved to accompany him in person to Rome with twenty-five hundred lances and thirty thousand infantry; and he has sworn on his soul to achieve two things, at the risk of losing his kingdom, namely, to have the Emperor crowned in Rome, and to make a Pope to his own liking.

The king of Spain has written a letter most favorable to the projects of the king of France, and censuring the Pope’s attempt against Genoa; offering to his Majesty of France twelve of his armed galleys, to be employed for or against whomever his Majesty pleases. These letters are in every way favorable to France, and do not spare the Pope in the least. His Majesty has also ordered a fleet to be fitted out by spring proportionate to his land forces.

Your Lordships can imagine now how great in the sight of God and men will be the merits of him who shall put a stop to  all these movements, and who by his wisdom will prove himself the physician to cure all these ills.

The great importance of these matters has almost made me forget to mention the arrival at this court, two days ago, of an ambassador from Lucca; but I will not weary you now with any particulars respecting him, as Giovanni is fully informed, and will tell you all about him.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Blois,

3 August, 1510

I have given Giovanni Girolami private instructions, in which I mention the Pope’s ambassador, and say that this affair has been conducted thus far entirely in accordance with his counsels, and that he has taken upon himself to manage his Holiness so as to bring him round to this proposition; bearing in mind that the war which he is making against the king of France is founded upon two things: the one, suspicion; and the other, the wrongs he imagines he has received at the hands of the king in the matter of Ferrara. As to the first, namely, the suspicions, he must pretend to share them, but at the same time show the Pope the necessity of adopting some prudent measures to secure himself against the apprehended danger, against which neither his arms nor ours would suffice, and upon those of others we cannot rely. He must also tell the Pope what the king of Spain has written in favor of France, without referring to the Pope; and the same with regard to the messages sent here by the Duke of Savoy. But it might very possibly be arranged that the other princes would guarantee the promises of the king of France, and this would be the safest plan to adopt, without having to upset the whole world. Valete!

Niccolo Machiavelli

August 9, 1510

Blois

LETTER IX.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

Since the departure of Giovanni Girolami from here with full information as to the state of affairs here, and with instructions (which your Lordships will have found enclosed in my letter) to see whether some way could not be found for an arrangement  between the king and the Pope, I have received your Lordships’ letters of the 26th ultimo. As his Majesty has gone on a pleasure excursion some three leagues from here, I went to see Robertet and communicated to him the contents of your letters; and amongst other things I mentioned the news that the troops which had left Genoa had taken refuge at Camajore, a place belonging to Lucca. To this Robertet replied that he had letters from Genoa with quite contrary information, namely, that Marc Antonio’s men had taken refuge on Pisan territory, where they had been stripped by the peasants; but that your Lordships had compelled these country people to make restitution of everything they had taken from these troops, which had caused great dissatisfaction to his Majesty, who concluded from this, and other similar acts of yours, that you did not go with him entirely. I told him that my letters said exactly the contrary, and that it was not reasonable that these cavaliers, who could with perfect safety take refuge on Lucchese territory, should have sought it within your Lordships’ dominions. It would be well, therefore, that your Lordships should inform me fully as to how this affair really occurred.

Yesterday I thought it proper to go to see the king, and whilst with his Majesty I told him what your Lordships had written; namely, that, having received his Majesty’s letter on the very day that you had written to me, you could not reply to it at once; but as you had already by your acts manifested your good intentions, it might reasonably be assumed that you would do the same in your letters. His Majesty said that he believed it, but then at once began to speak on the same subject that Robertet had spoken about; namely, the plundering of certain troops by the peasants, and the reported restitution by your Lordships; to which I made the same reply that I had made to Robertet. And his Majesty then said, “The Grand Master has by my orders notified the Signori to keep their troops ready, so that I may make use of them whenever I require them; and I now tell you to say the same thing to them, for in the daily current of events I think no less of their interests than of my own.” And thereupon I took my leave, for as his Majesty had been on horseback till the twentieth hour, he could not prolong my audience.

Magnificent Signori, when I left yesterday morning to go and see the king, it was in company with Robertet; and during the  whole distance of three leagues from here to where the king was, we talked over all the affairs of Italy, and in a general way also the events of the day. I say in a general way, for no one has communicated to me any details of their plan for attacking the Pope. For these French people do not trust us altogether, and will, in fact, never trust your Lordships until you declare yourselves openly in their favor and join them with arms in hand. The character of the French is naturally suspicious, and they suspect your Lordships the more, because they know you to be prudent, and therefore not apt to expose your interests to great risks. It is this that gave rise to the request which they made, and which I communicated to your Lordships in my letter of the 18th, and which they now renew. And you may believe as you do the Evangely, that, if war breaks out between the Pope and his Majesty of France, you will not be able to avoid declaring yourselves in favor of one of the parties, wholly irrespective of the regards you may have for the other; the present demand is proof of this. And as, in case of being obliged to do what I have just said, your city will be exposed to some risk, it is the opinion of your friends here that it would be wise for you not to run that risk without receiving some advantages by way of compensation. I have mentioned to your Lordships that the king told me that he bore your interests in mind; and Robertet has on several occasions said to me, “You never say anything to me about Lucca; it is time now to think of something.” And even to-day, whilst conversing with him, he came back to the same subject, and asked me whether the duchy of Urbino would suit us. I turned the conversation, as I always do on similar occasions, and did not permit him to know my mind; for I make it a point to avoid entering upon a discussion of any subject respecting which I do not know your Lordships’ views. I notice, however, that my reserve increases their suspicions, and makes them the more pressing to have you declare yourselves for them. Nor do I believe that the strictest observation of the terms of the treaty will suffice them; they want more than that; for whilst the treaty stipulations refer only to the defensive, they want to force you to the offensive, so as to commit you the more effectually to them. Thus they believe that, if the war does take place, you will be obliged to declare yourselves in their favor, or become their enemy. But do not persuade yourselves that  this would make them hesitate, or that they cannot do without you; for their pride and confidence in their power will never allow them to come down to that point, and if such considerations were to restrain them for one moment, they would quickly disregard them. And therefore those persons here who are really attached to you think that it will be necessary for your Lordships, without waiting for time to press or necessity to oblige you, to attend to present events; to reflect well, and then take the direct course for the object you aim at; and that in any event you form definite resolutions. And when you think the time come for you to be obliged to declare yourselves out and out in favor of the king of France, then you ought at a suitable moment to think of your own interests; for when the question presents itself of the possible loss of your allies and your state, it is proper also that you should think of the advantages and profits that may be gained. For if you think it well to risk your fortunes with those of France, then it comes to this, that you can dispose of a good part of Tuscany as you may think proper, and contribute to the enterprise of another with an annual subsidy during a suitable length of time; and as opportunity is anyhow but short-lived, it behooves you to come to a prompt decision. And as I am not a personage of sufficient consequence to begin negotiations of such importance, your Lordships ought to charge the ambassador with it who is now on the way here, and as quickly as possible instruct him as to what arguments to advance in this negotiation; so that he may not be in the dark as to your Lordships’ intentions when he arrives here, and so that he may be able promptly to say, “Yes,” or “No”; for they do not mean to lose any time here.

To have a clearer understanding of the state of things here, you must know that the French have their thoughts fixed upon two things; namely, the first, to make peace with the Pope, provided he will make the first advances; of this Robertet has again repeated to me his assurances. And the second is, if peace is not made, then to win over to their side the Emperor of Germany; for they do not see themselves how they could succeed in the war alone and without the Emperor for an ally. I should believe in peace, were it not that those who are said to desire it most themselves spoil the chance of it; for to bring the Pope to the point where they want him, they ought to have delayed sending assistance to Ferrara, and should  not have talked about changing the government of Bologna, so as not to arouse the suspicions of the Pope and exasperate him the more. All this they promised at the tiem when Giovanni Girolami was sent, but they do not stand by their promises, and thus they fail in projects of this kind.

“As to the Emperor, they make him larger or smaller offers, according as they think they have greater or less need of him; and the king has repeatedly said to a person who is not given to tell lies: ‘The Emperor has several times urged me to divide Italy with him, but I have always refused my consent; now, however, the Pope obliges me to do it.’ Your Lordships are thus exposed to two dangers in this war between the Pope and the king; the one that your ally may be defeated, and the other that the king of France makes terms with the Pope to your detriment. It would be well, therefore, that your ambassador should arrive here before Monseigneur de Gurck. Those of the Italians here who have anything to lose think that to avoid these dangers it is above all things necessary to see whether the Pope can be induced to make peace with the king of France, and if that cannot be done, then to convince the king that to hold the Pope in check it needs neither so many emperors nor so much noise; for those who in the past have made war upon the Pope have either overreached him, as was done by Philippe le Bel, or they caused him to be shut up in the Castel San Angelo by his own barons; and these are by no means so entirely exhausted but what means can be found to stir them up again. Thus in my ride yesterday with Robertet I talked of nothing else; I pointed out to him all the examples of the past, and told him, moreover, that in making war openly against the Pope they could not succeed without exposing themselves to great dangers; for if they attempted it by themselves, he could not but see that all the consequences would fall upon France alone; and on the other hand, if she had an ally, she would have to divide Italy with that ally, with whom she would afterwards have to have a conflict, that would prove much more dangerous than the one she had had to sustain against the Pope.”

Robertet agreed with me upon all points, and we need not despair of impressing their minds here with these examples, if there were only some few Italians of consideration here, who would take pains to do so.

I have written all this at length to your Lordships, with no other intention than to cause you to think well upon all that is going on here, in case there should be anything in it that can be turned to advantage for our city. And I entreat your Lordships to instruct your ambassador promptly and fully, so that by the force of your authority and his own he may open negotiations upon such points as your Lordships may deem advantageous to your city and conducive to your liberty. Valete!

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret.

Blois,

August 9, 1510

Niccolo Machiavelli

12 August, 1510

LETTER X.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

Yesterday I received your Lordships’ reply to my letter of the 18th, and this morning I came here to Saiburg, where the king is, for the purpose of communicating to him the contents of your letter; this I have done, and will report to your Lordships in detail and more at my ease in my next letter; the present one I write on my knee, and in haste for the mail which is just about to leave. I send this by way of Ferrara. After my audience with the king, your Lordships’ letters of the 13th instant arrived. I regret exceedingly the unfortunate fate of my letters in Lombardy. Ten days ago, or more, I spoke to the king and to Robertet about providing for the prompt transmission of my letters, which both promised me. I have now complained to Robertet, who was surprised, and promised to write again most earnestly about it. To enable your Lordships to know which of my letters may have miscarried, I will state that I wrote on the 18th, 21st, 22d, 26th, and 29th ultimo, and on the 3d instant per Giovanni Girolami, and last on the 9th instant. Rest assured that I have not failed to do my duty in this respect. “After Robertet had spoken with the king, he told me on the part of his Majesty that it would be very agreeable to him that your Lordships should secretly give some aid to the Duke of Ferrara; such, for instance, as to lend him money on good security; and if you did not like to do it publicly in your own name, then to have it done through some of your private citizens. He has since then written to me very  fully about this, and I have replied that I would write to your Lordships on the subject, alleging the difficulties that might present themselves in this matter, as I will explain to you in my next more fully.” I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret.

From the Royal Chateau of Saiburg,

12 August, 1510

Niccolo Machiavelli

13 August, 1510

LETTER XI.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

In my lines to your Lordships of yesterday, which I sent by the ambassador of the Marquis of Mantua, I stated briefly that I had been a considerable time with the king and Robertet after receipt of yours of the 28th in reply to mine of the 18th. “I communicated to them the contents of your letter, which seemed very satisfactory to them; and his Majesty said to me, ‘You will see my chancellor, Robertet, and my other ministers, who will acquaint you with my wishes.’”

I had hardly left the king when your Lordships’ letter of the 13th came, informing me of the neglect and delay to which your Lordships’ letters as well as mine have been subjected in Lombardy. I went at once back to Robertet, and communicated to him the information contained in your letter, and complained to him, etc., etc. I told him also of the dangers to which our merchants had been exposed in consequence of the Pope’s having merely heard of the demands which the king had made on my arrival. He manifested surprise at the first, and said he would again give instructions about forwarding the letters; but as to the second, he said that he did not know where the Pope could have heard of it; he would, however, remind the king to be more cautious hereafter.

“His Majesty returned here to-day; and after dinner Monseigneur de l’Oratellis and the other five members of the council had me called, and the Chancellor, after a long exordium upon the services rendered by France to Florence,  beginning from the time of Charlemagne and coming down to the present King Louis, said that his Majesty had understood that the Pope, moved by a diabolical spirit that had taken possession of his mind, wanted to renew his attempt against Genoa, in which case it might well be that Monseigneur de Chaumont would have need of your troops to defend his Majesty’s possessions. He therefore desired that your Lordships should keep your troops on foot, so that they might be ready for active service at any moment that Monseigneur de Chaumont should call for them. And that his Majesty also wished you to keep a few thousand regular infantry on the frontier ready for service; and that in this wise you would lay the king and the house of France under eternal obligations to you. I replied to all this in accordance with what your Lordships had written me in your letter of the 28th in answer to mine of the 18th, that they ought to bear in mind that your dominion was entirely surrounded by the states of the Pope, who upon the least suspicion had threatened to have our merchants plundered, and would certainly do so upon the slightest demonstration on the part of your Lordships, and that moreover he would leave every other war for the purpose of combating you. And that therefore, inasmuch as his Majesty could do very well without our being mixed up in the matter, he ought to have some little consideration for your Lordships. And as regards troops, we had but very few on the frontier, and that these would have to be paid whenever ordered to be ready to march, and any expenditure in addition to what we were already burdened with would be actually insupportable by our city. They answered nearly all at the same moment to my remarks, saying that the troops would be wanted only for a few days to repel an attack, and that your Lordships ought to remember that the king was as solicitous about your honor and interests as about his own. That his Majesty’s preparations were on such a scale that he would make cœlum novum et terram novam in Italy, to the detriment of his enemies and the exaltation of his friends; and that I ought for these reasons to write to your Lordships and hand the letter to Robertet to be forwarded, which he promised to do.”

I wrote to your Lordships on the 9th, giving full account of the state of things here; if time permits, I will enclose a copy  of it with this letter, for I see that things are going in the way I said they would; “that is to say, these people here want to involve you irretrievably in this war, and for that reason you should ponder well what I have written before, and bethink yourselves as to what advantages you may be able to gain; for according to their proposition we should be much exposed to loss.”

The Emperor has sent a herald to the army of the Church to warn the Duke of Urbino and the other commanders not to molest Ferrara, “at which the generals laughed.” According to what we hear from there the Pope’s affairs are prospering, for he has taken Cotignola and Luco. Monseigneur de Gurck has not yet arrived, but is expected daily.

I have written to your Lordships on the 18th, 21st, 22d, 26th, and 30th ultimo, and the 3d, 9th, and 12th instant. Your Lordships will see now that my letters have been stopped somewhere on the road. The French are taking the course which I indicated in my letter of the 3d; it is evident that they are not disposed to reject the treaty of peace, whilst on the other hand they are making great preparations for war, as I have mentioned already in former letters. Valete!

Blois,

13 August, 1510

Nothing more is said about the horses restored to Marc Antonio, and I keep quiet about it.

I send copy of my letter of the 9th hereto appended, or rather herewith enclosed.

Servus

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret.

Niccolo Machiavelli

18 August, 1510

Blois

LETTER XII.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

My last to your Lordships was of the 13th, and, assuming that it has arrived safely, I do not now repeat its contents. Yours of the 7th with the copy from Rome came yesterday; and those of the 4th, with which Reino had been charged, have, according to what Bartolommeo Panciatichi writes, remained in Lombardy; not for want of great efforts on my part many  days ago with his Majesty, as well as his counsellors. His Majesty told me that he had given orders to allow these letters to pass, and the ministers say they have written about it. They all profess to be astonished at this detention of my letters, and I can do nothing more than to remind them of their promises, which of course I shall do.

Immediately after receipt of the above-mentioned letter of your Lordships of the 7th, I presented myself before his Majesty the king, and communicated to him the contents of that letter; which, being very full and acceptable, were listened to by his Majesty with the greatest pleasure; and particularly, it seemed to me, on account of the conclusions presented by our ambassador at Rome; namely, “that if the Pope found terms of agreement that were satisfactory and to the purpose of which I wrote in my letter of the 3d, then to advise his Majesty to profit, with his habitual wisdom, by this discouragement of the Pope; and to avail himself of it as promptly as possible for making a favorable peace, provided his Holiness consented, rather than to think of punishing him by a war, the end of which no one could foresee; and to remember that such movements were not becoming to Christians, nor to one who had seen all his desires gratified, as was the case with his Majesty. The king replied to this with an earnestness which it would be difficult to describe; averring with oaths that, inasmuch as it was not he who had originated the war against the Pope, so it would not be his fault if peace were not made. After that he went on with many words to complain of the Pope’s conduct, and how, since the defeat of the Venetians, he had never been able to make him listen to reason; and although he was himself entirely disposed to make peace, yet he had not neglected to provide for war. That he had again sent three hundred lances into Italy that had just come from Burgundy, and three thousand infantry; for he did not intend merely to defend himself and his friends, but he wanted also to attack his enemies. He thanked your Lordships and praised you very much for the information given him, and assured me that he would be greatly pleased to receive similar advices from you daily. Thereupon I took my leave of his Majesty; and as the council was assembled in session, I thought it well to go there, and in the presence of all I made them the same communications that I had made  to the king. It would be impossible for me to tell your Lordships with what pleasure I was listened to by the whole council, and all declared that what your Lordships had done was a real service and the act of a good friend.”

I have no other news to communicate to your Lordships, excepting what the envoy from Ferrara had told me, that the Grand Master had received full authority to defend Ferrara cum totis viribus; and some days afterwards I saw him in very good humor.

An agent of the Marquis of Mantua has come here secretly; and since his arrival here they are all much more favorably disposed towards the Marquis; and it is supposed that he also wanted to avail himself of the occasion like the king of Spain.

His Majesty stated this morning that Gio Paolo Baglioni had been killed by a bolt from a crossbow; your Lordships ought to know whether or not this be true.

“Since the receipt of this news the same friend of mine whom I mentioned in my letter of the 3d is very hopeful that the treaty will be concluded, provided your Lordships will actively intervene, particularly as he has letters from Rome that encourage similar hopes. This friend and Robertet are most anxious to know what decision your Lordships have come to with regard to my letter of the 3d, and since the arrival of Giovanni Girolami. Yesterday my friend had a long conversation with the king, and, after telling his Majesty what he had heard from Rome, he suggested to him the same course of action that I had done, and received the same answer. He had, moreover, pointed out to his Majesty that the same persons who had caused him and the Pope to draw the sword were now doing their utmost to induce them to sheathe it again; on the one hand demonstrating to the king here the impossibility of the Pope’s ever acquiescing in any peace, and on the other hand proving to the Pope that he could never trust the king. So long as this question is pending, one of the parties imagines that his state is perfectly secure, whilst the other thinks that he will soon gain a portion of it. My friend added that he knew that Monseigneur de Gurck was coming here with his account already made out; but that if he found more favorable terms here he would accept them, and if not, then he would return to those who had made him fairer promises. His Majesty sees the force  of all these arguments, and assents; but in the end it came to this, that he said, ‘What is it that you would have me do? I am not going to allow the Pope to beat me.’ From this reply and from other indications it is evident that the king has decided most reluctantly upon this war; but if pushed to it by the force of circumstances, then he is resolved to make it the most magnificent war that has yet been seen in Italy. His intention is to temporize this winter, and to conclude firm alliances with England and the Emperor; and having gained these two powers he cares nothing for Spain, and says to every one that will listen to him that he looks upon the king of Spain as no more than king of Castile. And by way of more surely winning the support of the two above-named sovereigns, and to leave nothing undone, he has ordered in the midst of all this the convocation of a council of the Gallican Church. A large number of these prelates have already arrived, and they are busy in preparing for the meeting which has been appointed to take place at Orleans; and at this council the obedience to the Pope will be formally abolished, and if England and the Emperor concur, they will elect a new Pope; and in the spring the king will descend into Italy with such an overwhelming force that it will not be war, but simply a promenade to Rome. Such are the plans of the king if peace is not made, and provided the two sovereigns leave the direction of affairs in his hands to be managed as the Almighty may deem for the best. In truth, if your Lordships were situated elsewhere, all this would be very desirable, so that our priests might also taste a little of the bitterness of this world.”

I entreat your Lordships with the utmost earnestness, if you do not wish me to sell my horses and return on foot to Florence, to direct Bartolommeo Panciatichi to advance me fifty scudi; for I am here with three horses. On my return I will give full account of my expenditures, and I rely upon your Lordships’ acting in this matter with your wonted goodness. Valete!

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret. Flor.

Blois,

18 August, 1510

Niccolo Machiavelli

24 August, 1510

Blois

LETTER XIII.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

My last of the 18th instant informed your Lordships fully of all that was passing here, and at the same time I replied to the letters which your Lordships had written me up to that date. Since then I have received your two despatches of the 10th and 11th; and as the king is suffering from a cough which is prevalent throughout this whole country, I have communicated to Robertet such portion of the information contained in your letters as in my judgment I thought proper he should know, and gave him moreover a note of it, so that he might show it to his Majesty, etc.

Although your Lordships have been informed from Rome that the Pope almost despairs of being able to count upon the Swiss, yet it is evident that the French here are very apprehensive and suspicious of them, and the more so, as I am informed, because the Swiss boast of being able at any time to make a road over the Alps, which no one can prevent, nor hinder them from coming down in the neighborhood of Savona. Being accustomed to carry their provisions with them, they could pass above Genoa and get into the Lucchese territory by the Riviera di Levante, without being exposed to attack; and they could not be prevented getting from there into the Bolognese territory, where they would unite with the Papal forces. I do not know the country myself, and may possibly be mistaken, and some persons think it a very long and round-about way; but however that may be, the truth is that the French stand in great fear of these Swiss; and I venture to say that, if they were to declare themselves in favor of the French, these would care but little for all the other powers.

They had also become somewhat distrustful of the Emperor, because nothing more had been heard of Monseigneur de Gurck; yesterday, however, news was received that he had started on the 13th instant. So they have recovered their confidence a little, and are of good cheer upon that point: for if the Emperor were to abandon the French, their want of German infantry would then oblige them to look to their own homes rather than to other people’s.

I wrote to your Lordships that the ambassador from Ferrara  was well pleased with the preparations which the king had ordered for the benefit of the Duke; but I have since then found him in a very different humor, complaining that the French order one thing to-day and recall it to-morrow. It seems to me that he fears that in the end his Duke may fare badly. He complains also that the French have their ideas turned too much towards the next spring, thinking that the arrival of the king with a powerful army will remedy everything; but they do not take into account that in the mean time some of their allies may meet with disaster.

I learn from a good source that the Marquis of Mantua has promised to serve the Pope with his person and his state, so soon as his Holiness shall have made himself master of Ferrara, but that in the mean time he will remain neutral.

Nothing else occurs to me to say, unless it be to recommend myself again to your Lordships, and to beg you to instruct Bartolommeo Panciatichi to pay me the fifty scudi of which I am in great need, as stated in my letter of the 18th, to enable me not only to return home, but to have myself cured; for I am still suffering from the effects of the cough, which has left my stomach in such wretched condition that I have no appetite for anything. I must add, that there is an extraordinarily great mortality at Paris: more than a thousand persons die per day. May the Almighty not abandon us! Valete!

Blois,

24 August, 1510

For some days past the question has been discussed between the king and his councillors of sending a representative of his Majesty to reside near your Lordships; and to hasten his coming to Florence it has been proposed to charge Monseigneur de Chaumont with sending him. I do not know whether anything has been done in the matter, for it is five days since I have seen or spoken to any one, having been confined to my chamber by this cough. Iterum valete!

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secr. Flor. apud. Chr. M.

Niccolo Machiavelli

27 August, 1510

Blois

LETTER XIV.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

The last letters I have from your Lordships were of the 11th instant. Since then you will have received mine of the 3d, 9th, 12th, 13th, 18th, and 24th instant, from which if they have reached you safely, you will have seen how matters are progressing here.

Yesterday we had news of the capture of Modena, in consequence of which a council was held yesterday and to-day in relation to that matter; but I do not know as yet what has been decided upon. True, I have seen the ambassador from Ferrara, who was going to the council; he seemed discontented, and repeated to me what I wrote you in my last he had said to me, namely; “that the French had promised him a number of times powerful help, and had actually given the orders for it, but that these were afterwards revoked, as though they thought the Duke could help himself. On the other hand, they boast of their great preparations, without thinking of what may happen in the mean time, or that those who suffer the evils have also to bear the cost. Robertet, as stated in my last letter, has been ill with this cough, and having called to see him a couple of days ago, and being alone with him, we had a long conversation about Italian affairs. Having the time, and the opportunity being favorable, I told him that, if this war between them and the Pope went on, it would be necessary that the king, for his own good as well as yours, should decide as to the manner of availing himself of your Lordships’ assistance; and as this subject was now under consideration, it would be well to review and discuss what you were able to do, how you were situated, and what service you could render the king. The first thing to bear in mind, I said, was the fact that you were poor, and that in consequence of the long wars in which you had been engaged, and the expenditures which you had been obliged to incur and from which you were not yet entirely liberated, you could not be called powerful nor well supplied as regards money. After that the geographical position of our territory must be taken into consideration, being entirely surrounded by the Pope and his allies, which made it easy for his Holiness,  with but little expense to himself, to give you much trouble, and subject you to much danger and enormous costs. That the late inconsiderable demonstration of the Venetian fleet had obliged you to send thousands of troops to Pisa, which certainly could not have been done without costing you large sums of money; and therefore it was necessary, after having carefully considered the matter, that the king should bear in mind, when he claimed your assistance against the Pope, that your aid should be efficient and advantageous to him, and not insufficient and hurtful. For if this aid was not to be of great advantage to his Majesty, and only served to saddle you with another war, the king would be obliged, not only to return to your Lordships the aid lent him, but also to add some of his own troops, so that where his Majesty has now to provide for the defence of Ferrara, Genoa, the Friuli, and Savoy, he would then also have to provide for the safety of Florence and Tuscany. Such aid from you would therefore be more injurious than useful to his Majesty; and for that reason I begged him to be very careful and to weigh matters maturely; for if they wanted to act wisely they must regard this much as certain, that, if the war against the Pope went any further, the Florentines would be of greatest assistance to the king if they defended themselves with all the ability they possess, so as not to need any help from his Majesty; particularly considering the situation of their territory, and the facility with which the Pope could attack them on so many sides. When, therefore, the matter came to be discussed in council, and they wanted the Florentines to act and speak, I begged him to see that their purposes respecting the Florentines should be well weighed and digested; for if these were carefully considered, I doubted not that on the whole the resolutions of the council thereupon would also be wise. And that it behooved his Lordship more than any one else to see to this, because he understood Italian affairs better than any of the other members of the council. It seemed to me that Robertet was pleased with my arguments, and he showed me that he had taken notes of them. Nevertheless, I could not rid myself of the idea which I have stated in a previous letter, namely, that they desire anyhow to implicate you openly in this war, in case it should be pushed on; and consequently I do not cease to say the same thing to the  others, doing so, however, always in such a manner as not to allow them to imagine that I say all this merely to avoid observing the stipulations of the treaty.” But where the reasons are so palpable and manifest such suspicions ought not to be entertained.

The king will leave here on Sunday or Monday next to go to Tours, where that Council is to be held which was originally convoked to meet at Orleans. He still intends to carry out his project in the spring. “And as I have written before, it will make a brilliant show if England and the Emperor stand by him; but if these should fail him, and the Swiss hold to the Pope, then his Majesty will confine himself exclusively to the protection of his own states; and it is believed that he will not be able to attempt any other enterprise unless he shall first have detached some of these Swiss. All others who may have need of his Majesty must have patience.”

Great hopes are founded here upon the coming of Monseigneur de Gurck. It was said at first that he was to start on the 13th, but nothing further has been heard of him. The imperial ambassadors manifest not the least apprehension as to any discord between the Emperor and the king of France; and they have said that within a few days the Pope would have such a dog at his heels as would make him think of other things than making war upon Ferrara. They report that three thousand Bohemian infantry and two thousand German cavalry are coming through the Friuli to attack the Venetians. Time will show whether this be true or not.

“Since writing the above, I have spoken with the ambassador from Ferrara, who tells me that it has been decided that Chaumont is immediately to send three hundred lances and two thousand infantry to Parma, where they are to join the fourteen hundred infantry which the Duke has at Reggio. Their object will be to go and retake Modena, in the event of the Pope’s army attacking Mirandola; but if the Papal army remains at Modena, then the above-mentioned troops on the one hand, and on the other hand those that are with Monseigneur de Chatillon will attack the Pope’s forces at Modena; and the ambassador has no doubt that, if these orders are not changed or the Pope’s forces not greatly increased, the Pope’s army will be obliged to withdraw, whether he will or not.”

A proclamation by order of the king has been published here to-day, and is to be published throughout the entire realm, that no one shall dare to send to Rome in relation to church benefices or any other clerical object, under penalty of losing life and property; and at the same time the king has released all his subjects from their obedience to the Pope. It is well known here that the Pope boasts of having a treaty of peace with the king of France in his pocket, and this has increased the indignation against him.

I assure your Lordships that it is quite possible that this may be true to-day; but if the king succeeds in effecting a firm alliance with the Emperor, the Pope will find that he has been led into error, so that if any one were to tell him so, he would be telling him the truth. And if his Majesty does not avail himself of this occasion for his own advantage, he may very likely have reason to repent it; for to detach the Emperor from the king of France, he would in all reason have to give and promise him greater advantages than what the king of France can offer and give. And as I have already written in a former letter, his Majesty of France will not refuse any conditions that the Emperor may demand, for every other wound and every other injury will seem to him more honorable and bearable than those inflicted upon him by the Pope. Whether waking or sleeping, the king thinks and dreams of nothing but the wrong which he imagines he has received at the hands of the Pope, and his mind is filled with nothing but thoughts of revenge. I have been told again by a person high in authority, that the Emperor aims at nothing less than to engage the king in a partition of Italy between them.

I have no other news to communicate to your Lordships, to whom I recommend myself.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret.

Blois,

27 August, 1510

Niccolo Machiavelli

30 August, 1510, — retained till 31st

Blois

LETTER XV.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

My last letter was of the 27th, in which I reported all that occurred to me of interest, and yesterday after dinner I received  your Lordships’ despatches of the 17th, with a copy of the letter to Pandolfini. I communicated to Robertet what you had decided “with reference to the coming of Giovanni Girolami, for I could not speak to the king about it, as he had never been willing to say the least word on the subject, and there was no occasion to mention it to others. Robertet was pleased with your decision, but nevertheless said that he feared, if the Pope wanted now to treat, it would be too late; still the negotiations could do no harm, provided due regard was had to the king’s honor. He told me that the Pope’s forces had gone to Mirandola, where they encountered the French and met with a terrible repulse.” He told me also that an agent from Germany had arrived per post, and brought amongst other news the positive departure of Monseigneur de Gurck on the 13th instant. “He does not approve that you should have excused your not sending the troops by alleging the negotiations with Rome; for the king does not wish that it should be thought that the attempt to make peace had originated with him, and for that reason he did not want to talk with me about it, nor would he permit that any of his ministers should write to you about it; he desired that the whole should be regarded as coming from you. Your having mentioned it to Chaumont was therefore bad, and his Majesty is very much displeased about it. He approves my silence on the subject at the meeting of the council to-day, as I shall relate more particularly hereafter.” I had this conversation with Robertet yesterday evening at the first hour of night, and after the following circumstances had occurred. “So soon as I had received your Lordships’ despatch, and had learned the contents of your letter to Pandolfini respecting your Lordships’ resolution about the troops asked for by Chaumont, I went to see the king, but did not succeed in obtaining an audience, as his Majesty was still suffering from the cough, and was at the time locked in with the queen; and therefore, so as not to lose any time, I went to the Chancellor’s hotel where the council was assembled. Having been admitted to their presence, I told them that before your Lordships had received my letter, which I had been charged by the council to write to you on the 3d instant, and by which his Majesty the king requests that your Lordships should hold your troops in readiness to march at any moment that the  Grand Master asked for them, in the event of the Pope’s renewing his attempt against Genoa, the Grand Master had sent an express to your Lordships with the request immediately to send your troops into Lombardy to be employed there in the service of the king. Whereupon your Lordships, desirous above all to observe the treaty stipulations, wanted without delay to order their mobilization. But as it required some little time to expedite them, you wished, in the interest of the king as well as your own, during that interval to point out to his Majesty and to Chaumont the importance of such a step, so that they might know that your Lordships had foreseen all the evils that could result from it. And therefore you gave them to understand that it would be well for his Majesty to bear in mind that his enemy was the Pope, whose forces completely enveloped the Florentine territory on all sides; and to demand now that your Lordships should send your troops away from home would in reality be nothing less than to demand leaving you unarmed in the very midst of your enemies, by whom you might at any moment be crushed; and that this would necessarily lead to one of two evils, namely, either that you would be overwhelmed, or that the king not only would be obliged at once to send your troops back to you, but would also have to add some of his own; and that in addition to the cost of defending Ferrara, aiding the Emperor, opposing the Swiss, and guarding Genoa, his Majesty would also, at his own considerable expense, have to defend Tuscany and Florence, or submit to their loss. And that consequently your Lordships begged them to be pleased to consider, on the one hand, the advantage to be derived from sending your Lordships’ troops away from home, which would be absolutely null; and on the other hand, the damage which it would cause to his Majesty’s interests, as well as the dangers to which it would expose those of your Lordships, which would indeed be serious. And that I did not believe the council had ever entertained a more hazardous resolution, and one that would in all respects be useless and full of danger. And that for these reasons your Lordships had wished me to bring these considerations once more before the council, as there was still time; and that your Lordships had no doubt but what they would have to recognize the truth of this, that the Pope would be more  effectually curbed by leaving our men-at-arms in Tuscany, than by sending them elsewhere. And as I had told them before, so now I reaffirmed it, that if this war with the Pope went on, it would be advantage enough for the king not to be obliged to have the trouble of defending you, considering the situation of your territory, as well as your weakness and the exhausted condition of your treasury.

It seemed to me advisable to dwell mainly upon the subject of expense and of danger to them as well as to your Lordships, without touching any other points, for if I had referred to any other point that depended upon them, it would have excited either their anger or their scorn and derision; for, as Girolami knows, Robertet is the only person fully cognizant of the whole matter. And although it was with the consent of the king that they have entered upon this affair, which was initiated by Robertet, the others having merely followed him, yet it is necessary to manage this negotiation discreetly, and not to publish it to the whole world. They all listened to me with great attention, and when I had finished they said that I had spoken wisely; that they would see the king that very morning, and believed they should be able to give me a satisfactory answer, for they knew how necessary it was to save your Lordships and not to expose you to danger.”

This morning after Mass, as the king was walking in the garden, I approached his Majesty and told him all I had said yesterday to the council, adding moreover what I thought proper to sustain my arguments. His Majesty said in reply, that he would think of it all, and would then let me have his answer. After that I spoke with every member of the council separately, and solicited each one to try and obtain the king’s reply as soon as possible, pointing out to them the importance of avoiding delay. They told me to come to the council to-day, and I accordingly went there after my dinner, but had to wait a long time before being admitted, “and then the Chancellor said to me that, the gentlemen of the council having heard the statement I had made to them this morning on the part of your Lordships, and as the reasons I had adduced seemed to them sound, and knowing as they did the character of the Pope and the situation of your dominions, they accepted the good will of your Lordships the same as though you had actually sent the troops; and that they had concluded  it would be best that your troops should remain in Tuscany. They wished, however, that your Lordships should hold the troops in readiness, as also the infantry you have at Lunigiana, so that they might be promptly sent to support the king’s interests in case the Pope should attempt to molest Genoa. That they did not give me this as a formal answer, but merely as a resolution formed amongst themselves; that to-morrow, however, after having seen the king, they would give me a final answer. I did not think it worth while to discuss their reply any further; for on the one hand I do not think you could well refuse to succor Genoa, and on the other hand they ask that for which they have no present necessity. For if the French army is superior to that of the Pope, and the Swiss do not pass the Alps, then I do not see what the Pope could possible do at Genoa. And thus I left the council to await their final and complete answer to-morrow, which ought to be the same as what I have written above, unless letters should arrive meantime from Chaumont that would disturb matters by some sinister interpretation. I have omitted no effort to bring this matter to a conclusion to-day, but have not been able to obtain anything further.” Thus far I have written to-day, the 30th.

This is the 31st, and this morning before Mass, at the moment when Monseigneur de Paris and Monseigneur the Treasurer Robertet were coming from the king, I joined them; “and then Robertet told me that his Majesty had confirmed the resolution of the council precisely as the Grand Chancellor had stated it to me yesterday evening; namely, that your troops are to remain in Tuscany, but that you are to hold them in readiness, and the infantry which you have at Lunigiana likewise, so that thay may at a moment’s notice be able to render assistance to Genoa, whenever a necessity for it should arise.”

Two days ago a proclamation was published here, forbidding any one, on pain of corporal punishment and fine, to go or send to Rome on any business with the Pope or the Apostolic Chamber. I learn from a friend “that the French army have orders to take Piombino if they can, and to sack it. If this be true, then the affair may possibly be over by this time.”

The king leaves on Monday next for Tours, to assist at the Council which he has ordered to be held there. Valete!

Blois,

30 August, 1510, — retained till 31st

I beg to remind your Lordships most respectfully of the request made in a previous letter, to let me have fifty scudi through the agency of Panciatichi.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret.

Niccolo Machiavelli

2 September, 1510

Blois

LETTER XVI.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

My last was of the 30th ultimo, but was forwarded on the 31st. I sent it in duplicate, one through Bartolommeo Panciatichi at Lyons, and the other by the royal post to care of Francesco Pandolfini. The substance of that letter was, that after considerable delay I have obtained from the king that your troops are to remain in Tuscany, but that you are to keep them on foot the same as the infantry which you have at Lunigiana, so that they may at any moment go to help Genoa, whenever it might become necessary. Girolami arrived yesterday, and brought me your Lordships’ letters of the 22d, and repeated to me verbally what your Lordships had written me respecting the negotiations with Rome, and about the troops. The matter of the troops being settled, there is no occasion to say anything more on that subject.

As to the negotiations with Rome, I repeated to Robertet what I had already told him according to your previous letters, and he made me the same answer, namely, that we must wait and see what will come of it. This morning I spoke with his Majesty the king, and told him that troops were being raised at Perugia and at Sienna, and that the Pope’s army was being increased. I also pointed out to his Majesty that by the capture of Modena his Holiness still more completely surrounded your dominions, and became daily more threatening; and that your Lordships desired to have his Majesty informed of this for the sake of having his Majesty’s advice and assistance when you should stand in need of it. His Majesty replied, that I should write you on every occasion unhesitatingly to help yourselves, and that he should not fail you, as he had already said several times. He told me also, that he had at this moment fifteen thousand infantry in his pay; that he had to render help  at many points, but that all would be settled at one blow; that he wished me to see Robertet, and make him show me what he had directed him to write to Chaumont. Thereupon I went to see Robertet, who showed me that the king had written formally to Chaumont as follows: “The governor of Genoa informs us that the Pope desires to change the government of Florence, and therefore, as we have already written, we do not want you to call for any troops from the Florentine government, as we wish that they should employ them for their own defence; and write to their Lordships boldly to prepare for anything that may happen, and that in case of need you will not fail them.”

I did not neglect to do my duty with Robertet, and to remind him that we wanted facts at the proper time; and that even now it was necessary to take active measures against the Pope, or things would not go well; and that if Ferrara was lost, it would involve other losses, that would bring shame to the king and injury to his friends. Robertet answered that the Pope needed a good thrashing; and at these words he laughed and slapped me on the shoulder, as much as to say, and he will get it very soon. More than that I could not get out of him; although he said that he would be glad to see a couple of hundred more of French lances pass the Apennines, but that they would have to get them together first, and see what the Swiss were going to do.

Your Lordships wish to know the intentions of the king of France; I think my letters must have pretty well informed you upon that point. However, his Majesty is waiting for the spring, and meantime he is negotiating with the Emperor, and is making all other necessary preparations for his enterprise. He would like to temporize until spring, and spend as little money as possible, for all these little expenditures put him in a bad humor. This reason, and the belief that the Duke of Ferrara is able to defend himself, have caused the troubles at Modena; and the same reasons may cause other similar troubles, to his own detriment and that of a third party; for he hopes that by his mere coming he will at once settle all troubles, and looks upon all money spent before that as good as thrown out of the window. It is true, he could very well send two hundred more lances to Ferrara, which might save it and would not involve any extra expense. It is not his Majesty’s  fault that this is not done, but it is the fault of those who manage the details of the king’s business here and in Lombardy. God grant that time may not show how great a loss the death of the Cardinal d’Amboise has been to the king as well as to others; for were he living now, Ferrara would never have suffered so much. For the king is not accustomed to attend to the details of all these things and neglects them, whilst those whose duty it is to attend to them take no authority upon themselves either to act or to remind the king what he ought to do; and so, whilst the physician gives no thought to the sick man, and the servant forgets him, the patient dies.

During my interview with Robertet, a painter brought a portrait of the late Cardinal d’Amboise, which caused Robertet to exclaim with a sigh, “O, my master, if thou wert living, we should now be with our army at Rome!” This exclamation confirms me more fully in all I have said above.

I had written thus far when Robertet suggested that it would be well that Giovanni Girolami should report in person to his Majesty what your Lordships had done with regard to the negotiations with Rome after his arrival at Florence. Accordingly he did so, and his Majesty was well satisfied with all the measures you have taken; so that as his Majesty manifests his views in relation to this negotiation more clearly than before, the subject might now be treated more openly here as well as at Rome. God grant that some good beginning may be made in this matter, before they change their opinion or disposition here!

I have nothing new to communicate to your Lordships, and can only confirm all I have written before. As to the Swiss, everything is being done to try and effect some arrangement with them, and I learn from good authority that they have already secured eight of the Cantons. If the king’s troops with the Grand Master withdraw from the Swiss frontier, it may be taken as an indication that terms have been made with them; but if they remain there, then we may conclude that some apprehension as regards the Swiss still prevails. But whenever they do withdraw, then your Lordships will be able to get more prompt and reliable information about it through Pandolfini.

I have told your Lordships in a former letter as to what measures had been taken with regard to Ferrara, and shall  therefore not repeat it now. The reported loss of the city cannot be true, for we have no news of it here, and there seems to be no apprehension of it here.

The king leaves to-morrow for Tours, where the council is to meet. God grant that all may go for the best! Valete!

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret.

Blois,

2 September, 1510

Niccolo Machiavelli

5 September, 1510

LETTER XVII.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

In my last of the 2d, I repeated, amongst other things, what I had written on the 31st ultimo, namely, that the king had decided that your troops should remain in Tuscany for the protection of your dominions; and that his Majesty had been induced, moreover, in accordance with your wishes, to send two hundred lances over the Apennines in support of Tuscan interests in case they should be needed. The king is resolved to do this anyhow, whenever the whole or part of his troops are relieved from the necessity of watching the Swiss. I wrote you many details in relation to matters here, and refer to that letter respecting these things. Since then I have received your Lordships’ letters of the 24th and the 25th, with copy of the one of the 22d, which require no further answer beyond what I have already written in my aforementioned letter. Still, as they contain some important news, I went to Robertet, in the absence of the king, and communicated it all to him, for which he charged me to thank your Lordships, although it was evident that he had already received the same information in some other way. “I reminded him again of the importance that the king should look more closely to the interests of his friends in Italy than what he had done hitherto; to which Robertet replied as before, that all the present expenditures on the part of the king had no other object than that; and that he had at present more than sixteen thousand men in the field; and that the Swiss, either by agreement or necessity, would be obliged to leave the Church, and that thus the king would be more at liberty to see to everything, for until now it had required no little effort on his part to hold the Swiss in check;  for by thus restraining the Swiss the power of the Pope was diminished, and the security of the king’s friends increased. After that, Robertet began to speak of the Pope, saying that this attempt of his Holiness to make war upon the king of France was simply foolishness, and that a month would not pass without the Pope’s becoming sensible of the situation in which he had placed himself; that Monseigneur de Gurck was now in Burgundy on his way here; and that if the king’s life was spared for another year we should see greater things than had ever been seen before.”

“Magnificent Signori, respecting the state of things here and all the above arguments I can say no more than to repeat what I have said and written before, that is to say, if the king lives, and England and the Emperor stand firmly by him, then your Lordships may count upon seeing him at Florence in the month of March next. Either of these two sovereigns would have to make very extraordinary demands of the king for him not to concede them; and as his Majesty is entirely decided not to go forward with his enterprise until next spring, it results naturally that Ferrara must suffer meantime; and it may well be that others will likewise have to suffer; for his Majesty dislikes every expense, and considers all money spent now as just so much thrown away. But as your Lordships say in your letter of the 22d that I must spur up the king and remind him of his promises, I can assure you that I have not remained quiet upon this point; and that I have stirred myself so much that I have perhaps gone too far. When the news came of the loss of Modena I went to the council and complained of this disorder, and pointed out to them the danger to which this would expose Ferrara, and the necessity of providing against it; and I concluded by telling them that, if Ferrara were lost, it would carry with it the loss of Tuscany and that of all the allies of France beyond Ferrara; thus making use of every argument that I thought it well to employ. But the cause of all this tardiness on the part of the king is what I wrote to your Lordships on the 2d instant, and have repeated above.

“I learn from a friend that, at a late council held by his Majesty in relation to Italian affairs and this new enterprise, all with one accord concluded that the only way to have less trouble and more security in Italy would be to increase the  power and influence of your Lordships. The same suggestion has come to my ears from more than one quarter; thus, when the king comes into Italy, as it is said and believed that he will, and your Lordships are able to maintain yourselves in your present position, you may, in compensation for the trouble and expense which you apprehend, hope also for much good, provided your representative here manages the matter with skill and prudence, as will doubtless be done by his Magnificence, the ambassador who is coming here. And if in this affair you run some risks, your Lordships are too intelligent not to know that great results are not achieved without some danger.”

I expect your ambassador on Monday or Tuesday next at Tours; in the course of a couple of days I will post him thoroughly as to the state of affairs here, and then, with your Lordships’ gracious permission, I hope to return to Florence.

At the king’s departure from here the Pope’s ambassador was informed that he was not to come to Tours, but was to remain here or go where he liked. “The ambassador therefore decided to go to Avignon, which will cause a serious interruption in the negotiations with Rome; for it was he who had conducted these negotiations until now, and I apprehend that without him nothing satisfactory can be effected. I must not omit to tell your Lordships that some persons here think that there will be difficulty in the king’s passing into Italy, for the following three reasons: first, because the mass of the French people will not submit to be burdened with extraordinary expenses; secondly, because the greater part of the gentlemen will refuse to go to Italy, where so many in former invasions have lost their fortunes and some their lives; and thirdly, because the queen and the first princes will not be satisfied to have the king leave the realm and expose his person to danger. The answer to all this is the same as was made ten years ago; and that the king has always gone and come back when it pleased him; for where everything depends upon the will of one man, the others will soon want the same thing as himself.” Valete.

5 September, 1510

The king will take four or five days to reach Tours, as he intends stopping at some of the villages on the way, to hunt.  By that time the ambassador will have arrived, and as I cannot get any news in the mean time, nor transact any business with the court, this will probably be the last letter which your Lordships will receive from me in relation to passing events; for after the arrival of your ambassador, I shall leave it entirely to his Magnificence to write you. Iterum valete!

May it please your Lordships, if you have not done so already, to order Panciatichi to pay me fifty scudi, so that I may return, and repay to Niccolo Alamanni thirty scudi which he has lent me.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret. apud Reg. Christ.

Niccolo Machiavelli

10 September, 1510

Tours

LETTER XVIII.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

Yesterday I received your Lordships’ letter of the 26th ultimo addressed to me, and yours of the 27th for the ambassador Roberto Acciaiuoli; as I have no news of him, I deemed it proper to read your letter to him. In regard to the further reasons which your Lordships say you have for not sending your troops into Lombardy, there is no occasion that his Magnificence should take any more trouble about this matter, or even speak of it any more, unless he should be spoken to about it; for it was all settled on the last day of August that your troops are to remain in Tuscany. The king is, moreover, disposed to send two hundred lances across the Apennines, provided that they are no longer wanted for the purpose of keeping the Swiss in check, or that there should already be French troops enough in Italy to accomplish both at the same time. This they ought to be able to do, for the three hundred lances that were lately sent for have arrived, also the one hundred pensionaries of the king, which constitute, in fact, a body of more than one hundred and fifty lances. I have strongly urged the sending of the two hundred over the Apennines, and shall recommend the ambassador to do the same; for if they are sent, it will give your Lordships all the advantages you desire; but if on the contrary they are not sent, then it will indispose the French to ask again for troops from you, when they see that you continually call  upon them for troops; and thus it will in any event produce a good effect.

Since my letter of the 31st ultimo, I have written on the 2d and the 5th instant, giving your Lordships an account of matters here; nothing new of interest has occurred since then.

The imperial ambassadors are every day with the king; they are very active, and are expecting Monseigneur de Gurck. Great preparations are being made here for the meeting of the Ecclesiastical Council; and according to what I hear, a number of questions have been prepared for discussion. Amongst these I understand are the following: whether it is lawful for the Pope to make war upon a Christian prince without having first summoned and heard him; whether it is lawful for the Pope to make war upon his Most Christian Majesty, even after having first summoned him; whether a Pope who has obtained the Papacy by bribery, and sold the benefices of the Church, ought to be recognized as the Pope; whether a Pope who has been proved guilty of numberless disgraceful acts ought to be recognized as Pope. These and many other similar points are to be discussed by this Council; after which they will put into execution what they believe to be most dishonoring to the Pope and most advantageous for themselves. The other parts of your Lordships’ letters, respecting the discussion of a new confederation and the advantages proposed to you, will all be communicated to your ambassador, who will govern himself in these questions according to your instructions and his own prudence.

We have nothing new from Ferrara calculated to diminish their hope of being able to defend that state; and as to the Swiss it would seem that, notwithstanding their having seized the pass, the French still hope confidently to win them over to their side, or to hold them in check.

It is now the twentieth hour, and a messenger has just arrived from the ambassador notifying me that his Magnificence will be here this evening. I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret.

Tours,

10 September, 1510

COMMISSION TO THE INTERIOR OF THE STATE.

PATENT. We, the Ten of Liberty and Balia of the Florentine Republic,

Make known to whomever these present letters patent may come, that the bearer thereof is Niccolo Machiavelli, son of Messer Bernardo, Secretary of our Illustrious Signori, who is sent by order of our magistracy to enroll all who are to serve in the cavalry in our pay.

And therefore we command all the Rectors to whom the said Machiavelli may present himself to give him credit and render him service in all things that he may require in connection with this business.

And to our subjects we command to render him all obedience, if they value our good will or fear our displeasure.

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret.

Ex Palatio Florentino,

12 November, 1510

COMMISSION TO SIENNA.

PATENT AND PASSPORT.
We, the Ten of Liberty and Balia of the Florentine Republic,

Make known to all to whom these our present letters patent may come, that we send the excellent Niccolo Machiavelli, our Secretary and citizen, to the Magnificent Signoria of Sienna, on business of our republic; and we command our subjects that for the love of us you will receive him in the most friendly manner, and render him all opportune good offices, so that he may with the greater ease reach his place of destination. This will be most agreeable to us, and will cause us to hold ourselves bound to render similar service to our aforesaid friends, whenever occasion shall arise; and we shall greatly commend our subjects therefor. Bene valete.

Marcellus.

Ex Palatio Florentino,

2 December, 1510

MISSION TO THE LORD OF MONACO.

PATENT AND PASSPORT.

We, the Ten of Liberty and Balia of the Florentine Republic, Make known to whoever may see these our letters patent, that the bearer thereof is the excellent Niccolo Machiavelli, our citizen and much beloved Secretary, whom we send on business of our republic to the illustrious Lord of Monaco.

And therefore we beg all of you friends, confederates, and protégés of our republic, and our subjects we command, to render to the said Niccolo all opportune aid and good offices that will conduce to the execution of his commission, for which we shall be grateful to all of you friends, confederates, and protégés, and shall highly commend our subjects for the same.

Ex Palatio Florentino,

12 May, 1511

The purpose of The Convention to be concluded with Luciano Grimaldi, Lord of Monaco, is as follows: —

1°. Between the exalted Florentine republic of the one part, and the said Signor Prince of Monaco of the other part, there shall be a good and true friendship, to endure for the next ten years to come; during which time they shall treat each the other, and e converso, and their troops and subjects, vessels, goods and merchandise, and every other thing, as good and real friends, and as good and real friends are used to treat each other.

Item. The vessels, men, and goods of the aforesaid Prince may, during the stipulated time, come, enter, and remain in  every port belonging to the said exalted Florentine republic, freely and without any safe-conduct. And they may stop in port and lay in supplies of bread, water, provisions, and whatever else they may need, the same as if they were vessels and men belonging to Florence; paying nevertheless for these things the same dues as all other Florentines, and likewise paying the same customs duties as are paid by other Florentines. And e converso the Prince of Monaco shall observe the same conditions in his ports towards the vessels, men, and goods of the said exalted Florentine republic, and her subjects in all and for all.

It is nevertheless understood and declared that neither of the two parties, nor their subjects, can seize in the same maritime ports vessels, men, or goods, except such as belong to the enemies of the power in whose port such capture is made. And it is understood, by way of fuller explanation, that the port of Livorno comprises the shallows of Meloria.

Nor can either one of the said parties enter or remain in the ports of the other party with vessels, men, or goods captured from others than from his own enemies or those of the power to whom such port belongs; nor can such captured vessels be discharged, nor the goods or men therefrom put on shore. And in case such vessels should come in and stay and discharge there, as has been said, then either party can forbid the other to come to, enter, and remain in its ports, or to anchor there and lay in stores of bread, water, and other provisions, or anything else that they may need; and in such case neither of the parties shall be bound to the observance of the present friendship.

FOURTH MISSION TO THE COURT OF FRANCE.

LETTERS PATENT.

Decemviri Libertatis et Pacis Reipublicæ Florentinæ, universis et singulis ad quos hæc nostræ patentes literæ inciderint, salutem.

Significamus vobis, qui nostro imperio paretis, mittere nos Nicolaum Machiavellum, civem et Secretarium nostrum dilectissimum, mandatarium ad Christianissimum Regem Francorum, mandamusque ob id vobis, ut transeuntem per loca nostra juvetis omni ea ope, qua illi opus erit ad pergendum securius et celerius suum iter; sic enim rem vobis dignam facietis, et gratissimam nobis. Amicos vero omnes alios, confederatosque Reipublicæ nostræ hortamur precamurque, si quid nostra amieitia meretur, faveatis illi, juvetisque iter quacumque ratione potueritis, ut incolumis citoque in Galliam pervenire possit, quo mittitur a nobis ad Regem Christianissimum; quod erit in primis gratissimum nobis, et quod semper habebimus beneficii loco. Bene valete.

Marc. Virgilius.

Ex Palatio nostro Florentino, die

10 Septembris, 1511

INSTRUCTIONS GIVEN TO NICCOLO MACHIAVELLI, SENT BY THE ILLUSTRIOUS TEN TO LOMBARDY AND FRANCE.

Deliberated on, 6 September, 1511.

Niccolo, —

You are perfectly aware of all that has taken place here with regard to the Council to be held at Pisa; and on what grounds and for what reason we were disposed, on its first publication,  to allow that Council to be held at Pisa; and that not many days afterwards we gave our full consent. But finding now that the greater part and the most substantial of these reasons no longer exist, and that we had offended the Pope by our course, and thereby exposed ourselves to the greatest danger, we have been forced by necessity to send you by post, and with the greatest possible despatch, first to those most reverend cardinals, and to the most illustrious Royal Lieutenant at Milan; and after that as far as the court of his Most Christian Majesty. And all our interest and aim in your mission is reduced to one single object; namely, to make every effort and use all means to have this Council, the beginning of which was so feeble and so perilous that an honorable and safe end can hardly be expected, abrogated by such means as can be found. Or if that cannot be, that it shall at least be transferred elsewhere; which ought now to be an easy matter, seeing what the attorneys of these cardinals have done at Pisa, and how by anticipation they have validated the reasons of this Pisan Council. And finally, if this cannot be done, then let us have, as a last resort, an adjournment for some months; as within that time various contingencies may arise that will enable the Council to arrive at a much better settlement of all these disorders. And even if no other result will be attained, still two or three months’ time will be a great advantage and an immense convenience to us. And we think that such a delay should not be refused to us, as it is called for by the very season which we are about to enter upon, and by the condition in which this matter now stands. For it seems probable that those who have not arrived up to to-day will not come to encounter the winter season here; and moreover, the French prelates could under ordinary circumstances not reach the place in two months.

Travelling, therefore, with all possible speed, you will take the road to Milan; but before arriving at Bologna, you will carefully inform yourself as to the whereabouts of Santa Croce, Narbonne, San Malo, and Cosenza, who some three or four days ago were supposed to be at Borgo a San Donnino, and were to pass through here on their way to Pisa. When you have ascertained where they are, you will go to the place where you will find them together, and in speaking to them all at the same time and to each one separately you will give them to  understand that they are on no account to come to Florence; pointing out the trouble to which they would expose us, and the danger in which our merchants would be placed, with all their goods and movables at Rome as well as elsewhere; advising, exhorting, and entreating them on no account to take this route. You will add that you are going to Milan to make known to the Royal Lieutenant the report that has been spread, and the consequent apprehensions that the Spanish troops are about to march towards Piombino, and that a fleet is being fitted out at Naples, and that the Pope has already taken the Duke of Termini into his pay, and has appointed him his captain; adding all that may occur to you according to what we have told you here verbally. But should you not find the aforesaid cardinals on your route, because of their having gone in another direction, then you will proceed direct on the way to Milan and France. We believe that with the above-mentioned cardinals you will not require any other credentials than the letters patent which you take with you, and which will suffice to prove your person and your mission.

Having attended to this matter, you will take the diligence for Milan, where you will see Francesco Pandolfini, and, after having communicated to him our present instructions, you will together call upon the Viceroy, but in your interview with him you will confine yourselves to communicating to him that, whilst sending you to the court of his Most Christian Majesty, we desired also that his Excellency should be informed of the object of this mission. And without touching upon anything else, you will relate to him what has taken place at Rome; and what may happen to our merchants any day there and elsewhere; also the apprehensions with regard to Piombino and the Spaniards, as we have stated above. The reason why we deem it proper for you not to enter upon any other subject with him is, that we do not wish the object of your mission known before your arrival at court. We desire, nevertheless, that you should inform Francesco of everything, not only of the particulars of these instructions, but also of what we have stated to you verbally, so that he may in future proceed in conformity with our views, and govern himself in his actions according to these instructions.

Having accomplished this at Milan, you will proceed with the same diligence and speed to the court of his Most Christian  Majesty. Immediately on arriving you will call to see Roberto, and, after communicating to him these instructions, as well as what we have told you verbally, you will both together call upon his Majesty the king; and in addressing his Majesty you will begin by stating that we gave the concession of Pisa solely to please him; and then you will go on to show to what point matters have been brought here, and what has resulted and is likely to result in Rome, against our city as well as against our people and their goods. You will point out to his Majesty what our people have had to suffer in the way of interdicts, censures, war, and ransoms to be paid for persons and goods everywhere; and show the reasons why it has come to this, and what remedies there are for this state of things. And in explaining the cause of these evils to which we are subjected, you will remark that we have observed that the Emperor gives little or no attention to these matters; and that, whilst we believed that he would carry on the war advantageously, and that he was on his way to Florence, he was still near Trent, with little disposition to do anything more this year, and was constantly on the point of turning back. That he is carrying on most intimate negotiations with the Venetians, and has convoked a Diet in Germany for the day of San Gallo; and that all these things show manifestly that he gives little thought to our matters. To this may be added, that we have not heard of a single prelate’s coming from that great country to take part in this council. In the same way it has been observed that the French prelates that are to come manifest such tardiness as to cause the belief that they do not come of their own free will. But as this might possibly cause displeasure to the king, it seems to us best you should not refer to it, unless perhaps merely in a passing word, so as not to give umbrage to his Majesty. There are still other and more important points to touch upon; one of which is that, according to what we hear, some of the cardinals named in the edicts dissimulate their real views, and under various pretexts delay their coming to Pisa. Another matter, and one that has astonished us very much, is that a council should have been opened by only three persons sent to Pisa, and these of such  a character as they are; and that they have declared that they wanted the forts in their hands, which would promptly be filled with armed men. Owing to the lack of reputation of these persons, great disorders have occurred, so that the city found herself placed under an interdict, and that the heads of the religious establishments have declared against such a Council. All this is the consequence of having made so feeble a beginning, and not having sent men capable of defending their motives, and who might with proper authority have given due character and reputation to such an undertaking, which, once discredited, can hardly be carried to a satisfactory conclusion. In consequence of these disorders, the Pope, finding neither reputation, favor, nor power within the Council, has manifested the most vigorous resentment, and, having no one else upon whom to pour out his wrath, has discharged it all upon us; and thence all the dangers which threaten us, and which are so well known to you. These are increasing with every day; and it is not likely that the Council will gain in favor, having shown such weakness in the beginning, for everybody will be disposed to believe that its end will be similar to its beginning. And as no one at present accepts the reasons alleged in favor of this Council at Pisa, they will be still less acceptable in the future.

The remedies for this state of things are in our judgment but few. Peace, however, would settle everything honorably, and relieve all parties from their present anxieties; but of this we do not wish you to speak, except as a last resort. After having shown to his Majesty how little is to be hoped for from this Council, and what has been the cause of its feebleness, you will make every effort to persuade and beg his Majesty to be pleased to have it discontinued, seeing how difficult it would be to carry it on. And if all these reasons do not satisfy his Majesty, then you must endeavor, by pointing out to him our present and future dangers, to persuade him to relieve us from this care and anxiety, and show him that now, since the initiative measures have been taken at Pisa, the Council might readily be transferred to some other locality. This is, in fact, what we should desire most in case you cannot obtain a discontinuance of the Council, and therefore we want you to urge it most vigorously, leaving nothing undone that can help to induce the king to consent to such a transfer.

The reasons for this are numerous. First of all, the holding of the Council at Pisa is really tantamount to holding it under the very hands of the Pope; for it may be taken for granted that it will at once provoke a fresh war by land and by sea, in which his Majesty would be obliged to take a hand, if he does not wish that his friends shall perish for having tried to please him. But such a war would not take place if the Council were held in a locality not so accessible to the Pope with his army and his allies. And then there is the fact that the Emperor has never been satisfied that the Council should be held in Pisa, which doubtless is the reason why he and the prelates of Germany have shown such indifference in the matter. There are furthermore the reasons which we have so many times written to Roberto Acciaiuoli; namely, the ruinous state of Pisa, the unproductiveness of the country, the bad harvest this year, and the fact that the place can so easily be harassed by a hostile fleet. Above all must it be taken into consideration, in connection with the first reason, that a war resulting from the holding of the Council in Pisa would be a very dangerous one, because all the states involved in it will necessarily be divided, some declaring for and some against the Pope. His Majesty will therefore have to bear in mind that, if matters take this course, the burden of the war will fall upon him, if not entirely, at least in great part. It is necessary, then, that by means of these reasons, and such others as may suggest themselves to you, you should strive to persuade his Majesty to be satisfied that we may henceforth refuse Pisa to any one for the purpose of holding such a Council.

And if you cannot even obtain this, then you must, as a last resort, make every possible effort that for two or three months to come no further action shall be taken in Pisa without a consultation between the cardinals and the other promoters of the Council, as they might possibly disagree. There would be a manifest and natural reason for such a consultation, as the cardinals are still in Lombardy, and the bishops and abbots have not yet made their appearance. You will also point out to his Majesty the great advantage of this, especially so far as we are concerned, for it would afford us the time the better to settle our own affairs and those of the nation. Nor would it be at all extraordinary that it should bring with it some other  good results, and that it should dispose minds more favorably to a peace, which it would be most reasonable the Pope should desire, and to which his Majesty has always been well inclined. But of this peace it is necessary you should speak so as not to fail in any part of the object of your mission; at the same time urging and entreating his Majesty, for the purpose of avoiding the troubles of war, or for an infinity of other reasons, not to allow any opportunity to be lost that may present itself for concluding peace, but rather to seize every chance that may be given him, and to that end to proffer him all our best efforts and good offices. You must endeavor to learn what the results of your efforts may be, and what difficulties may present themselves; not only for the purpose of advising us, but also to enable us to do all that in your judgment may seem necessary to be done in the matter.

And we desire particularly that you should fully make known our disposition in this business, so that his Majesty the king and every one else may know that we have no aim or desire for anything else than peace; and that we shall ever be ready to do all that is possible and becoming to our quality to bring it about.

We remind you to write to us from Milan and from France, promptly and carefully, all that you may have done; what hope there is for the accomplishment of our desire, and what may ultimately be the result of this whole affair of the Council.

Ex Palatio Florentino, die

10 Septembris MDXI

Decemviri Libertatis et Baliæ Reipubl. Flor.

Niccolo Machiavelli

13 September, 1511

Al Borgo a San Donnino

LETTER I.

Magnificent and Illustrious Signori, etc. —

I arrived here yesterday at dusk, and found here the Cardinals Santa Croce, San Malo, Cosenza, and San Severino. Santa Croce is lodged outside the citadel, and the other three within. I thought it proper to speak first with Santa Croce, partly because he is as it were their chief, and partly because I regard him as being in some way more friendly to your Lordships than the others. I had a long conversation with him in relation to  the Council; and finally he thought it advisable that I should accompany him into the citadel to speak with the other cardinals; and just as we were starting to go, Cosenza and San Severino came to see him. The three withdrew and remained together some three hours or more, during which time they despatched both letters and messengers. After that they had me called in, and I repeated to the three together all that I had already said to Santa Croce. They then made me leave the room, and after a long consultation they came out themselves and told me to follow them to the Castle. There they went in to see San Malo, who was confined to his bed by an attack of gout; after having remained with him some time, they had me called in and made me repeat before San Malo what I had previously told them. The sum and substance of my remarks consisted in making known to them how greatly the Pope was irritated against your Lordships when he was informed of what had been done at Pisa, the dangers to which our merchants had been and were still exposed, the threats which the Pope had made to attack you with his temporal and spiritual weapons; and that for that reason your Lordships had charged me to go per post to Milan to see the Viceroy, and make known to him the Pope’s disposition and preparations, and your dangers, and to ask the Viceroy to suggest a remedy for all this. And that your Lordships had also commissioned me that, if on the way I should meet with their most reverend Lordships, I should make the same facts known to them; that you saw in all this two dangers, the one real and immediate, and the other a future danger. The present and real one was the plundering of your merchants and the interdict of your city, while war constituted the future danger. And to counteract the present danger, you begged their most reverend Lordships to be pleased not to come any nearer to Florence, so as to give our merchants time to settle their affairs; and that their reverend Lordships could do this without interfering with the Council, as none of the matters that were to be brought before it were ready; nor were you prepared to combat the Pope’s temporal or spiritual powers. And then I said all that could be said in relation to the disorders that existed upon these two points, and begged them  anew, in your Lordships’ name, to be pleased to delay their further advance, which they could do perfectly well without interfering with their plans; and in my effort to persuade them, I omitted nothing that could possibly be said on the subject. I told them also of the preparations of the Pope, what they consisted in, and how much he expected from the Spaniards.

Having spoken to them thus this last time in presence of San Malo, they had a long consultation amongst themselves, and then had me recalled, whereupon San Severino replied to me in the name of the others. The sum and substance of his remarks was in justification of their undertaking, and how acceptable it ought to be to all Christians and to the Almighty himself; and that the greater the participation in it, the greater would be the glory derived from it. And that when it was published six months ago that the Council would be held at Pisa, your Lordships ought to have prepared yourselves for all the consequences that might result from it, and that they could not understand how, after having had so much time, any further delay could be of advantage to you. After that he went on trying to prove to me that you had nothing to apprehend from war, because his Majesty the king of France had never had so many troops in Italy as at the present time. And here he magnified matters as much as possible, concluding finally by saying that they did not intend under any circumstances to come to Florence, but would go direct to Pisa by way of Pontremoli. That it would, however, be ten or twelve days before they should leave, as they intended to wait for the French prelates who would be here within that time, to the number of forty or more, and that they would come accompanied by learned doctors and preachers to enable them to raise the interdict; and that whoever opposed them would be adjudged an heretic. He alleged that in the year 1409, three years after your Lordships had acquired Pisa, you permitted a Council to be held there against a Pope of great sanctity; that that Council was opened only by cardinals, and that you then had manifested no fears, although the cause for that Council was not so just, nor was the support you then had so powerful as at present, when you have that of the king of France.

At this point the Cardinal Santa Croce spoke in turn, and confirmed all that San Severino had said, adding that for the love of Christ and for the good of the Church your Lordships  ought cheerfully to assume the burden of this Council; that the Council at Basle had been begun by a single abbot, whilst in the present case there would be so many cardinals and prelates that they would be able to carry on work of much greater difficulty; that they intended to raise all interdicts, and would so confound the Pope that he would have other things to think of than excommunications or war.

I replied to such part of these remarks as seemed to me to require an answer, by an attempt to persuade them not to go any farther; but I could not move them to any other conclusion than what I have stated above, that is to say, that they would not hasten their departure from here, and would go to Pisa by way of Pontremoli.

When I spoke yesterday with the Cardinal Santa Croce alone, I concluded from what he said that they would have gone to Pisa ere this, if they had seen your Lordships more decidedly favorable to the Council; but seeing your irresolution had caused them to hesitate themselves. If this be so, then I believe that my representation may cause them to hesitate still more, for they seem not to consider themselves safe in Pisa; and this may perhaps produce an effect which might not be to the purpose, for they have always desired to have the French army with them, and would desire it still more now.

In fact, I learn this morning that they have sent a messenger to the Viceroy at Milan, to solicit him to come in person with three hundred lances to escort them to Pisa whenever they are prepared to go. I shall be at Milan to-night, and will see with Francesco what can be done to prevent this. In the reply which Santa Croce made in the presence of the other cardinals, he stated that it would anyhow be necessary to hold two or three sessions more at Pisa, and that then, to accommodate and please your Lordships, they would raise the Council and transfer it elsewhere.

I learned yesterday evening that San Severino was to leave here this morning for Germany, on a mission to the Emperor; the object being to persuade him to order his prelates to Pisa, with the promise that, after the Council had once been organized at Pisa, then it might be transferred wherever else his Majesty pleased. Another object of this mission is said to be the negotiation of a marriage between the Emperor and a  French princess; and also to try and recover from him certain castles in the Veronese territory that were formerly obtained from his father.

It is now two o’clock of the morning, and it is at this hour that San Severino is to start. I recommend myself to your Lordships.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret.

Al Borgo a San Donnino,

13 September, 1511

Niccolo Machiavelli

15 September, 1511

Milan

LETTER II.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

On Saturday I wrote to your Lordships from Borgo a San Donnino, and informed you particularly of the interview I had with the cardinals. I left my letter with Giovanni Girolami, who promised me to send it by the king’s post; and presuming that you have received it, I do not repeat its contents. Since then I have arrived here and explained my commission to the Viceroy. The particulars of my interview with him, and his reply, will be reported to you by Francesco Pandolfini, having conformed in all my proceedings to his orders, and therefore I refer to his Magnificence. It is now the twenty-second hour, and I am just about to leave for the court to execute the commission of your Lordships, to whom I recommend myself.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret.

Milan,

15 September, 1511

Robertus Acciaiolus

24 September, 1511

Blois

LETTER III.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

My last was of the 17th; I sent it through Pandolfini by royal post. Machiavelli arrived here safely day before yesterday. Besides your Lordships’ letter of the 10th, which he brought with him, he has informed me of the object of his mission; and as Robertet happens to be here, and his Majesty the king  being about three leagues from here, we thought it best not to go to see him the first day, but to wait until the next morning when we should find Robertet with the king, so that he could be present at our audience in case it should be necessary to expedite some order. We therefore went next morning to court, having previously examined the instructions and made a brief of all the arguments that could influence the king to enter into your Lordships’ views. Accordingly we presented ourselves before his Majesty, and after the first homage of Machiavelli and the customary ceremonies, we read to his Majesty a statement prepared from your Lordships’ commission, in which we had embodied all the arguments that seemed most suitable and calculated to produce the desired effect of making his Majesty relish the better and consider with more attention the propositions we had to make. His Majesty listened cheerfully and attentively, showing that he attached great value to your representations and advice.

Our statement contained three principal points, the first of which was to urge his Majesty to make peace, and dissolve the Council by some reasonable agreement, and to offer him mediators, etc. To this the king replied, “Would to God that you could bring matters to that point, for there is nothing that I desire so much, and I should feel very grateful to whoever brings it about,” — showing us that upon that point he had always the same desire, and that he had never agreed to this Council except for the purpose of bringing the Pope to some agreement; and therefore he said, “If now we were to raise the Council, the Pope would not want to hear anything more of peace.” To this we replied, that that idea seemed to us without foundation, inasmuch as, according to all the indications, this Council was more apt to provoke war than peace, and that it was this apprehension that caused the Pope to look rather to a resort to arms than to ask for peace. To our second proposition, which had for its object a change in the locality where the Council was to be held, the king answered promptly and resolutely: “This also is impossible, for I see no way in which it could be done, as it is necessary that the cardinals and prelates should proceed to Pisa for certain indispensable acts that have to be done there. But measures could be taken so that they shall remain there as short a time as possible, and this I shall urge upon them.” He could not  precisely specify these acts, not being familiar with the terms employed in business of this kind. And then his Majesty added: “For some days we have thought of everything that could relieve us from this burden and embarrassment, and have had the whole subject revised and studied minutely, so as to see whether it could be arranged that the Council should not be held at Pisa; but having in the first instance been convoked in that city, it has been found that the Council cannot be removed from there without prejudice to our rights. If it had been possible, we should gladly have had it transferred to Vercelli, to which place the cardinals and other members of the Council could easily remove for this purpose, after having made at Pisa their first, second, and third station” (that is the word he used). “I do not, therefore, see the possibility of yielding to your demands. And moreover, I cannot act without the will and consent of the King of the Romans and the cardinals, with whom I have agreed not to do anything in relation to this business without their concurrence. And after having given them the order to proceed there, and having invited our Gallican Church to take the same way, I do not see how I can now retract.”

And as we observed upon this point that the Council, if held at Pisa, would not merely bring upon us the censures of the Church, and reprisals upon the persons and goods of our merchants, but would also kindle a war of such a character that the republic could not support it, and which would expose him to the gravest troubles and endless expense, his Majesty replied that it was necessary that the merchants should be relieved as much as possible, although he really did not believe that the Pope would harm them in any way. As to the war that might result from it, his Majesty did not seem to fear it much, as he did not believe that the king of Spain would take a hand in it, for he had had most excellent letters and several embassies from that sovereign; and therefore he advised us to have no apprehensions upon that point. His Majesty and Robertet, as well as ourselves, came back several times to this subject, and we believe that we did not omit a single argument calculated to decide the king; so that his final conclusion was, that it was his will and desire to gratify your Lordships, but, as the Council had once been convoked at Pisa, it was impossible now to transfer it elsewhere. So far as we could judge  from the King’s countenance, gesticulations, and words, as well as those of Robertet, we concluded that it was against his own inclination that his Majesty had refused to accede to your Lordships’ request, both on account of the danger to which it exposed us, in which he would be equally involved, as well as on account of the expense and anxiety which it would cause him; and that, if he alone had to decide this matter, he would not have refused. But the considerations referred to above seem to have prevented his complying with your Lordships’ wishes; and these considerations are the conventions made with the Emperor and the cardinals, his having directed all the clergy of the Gallican Church to attend the Council at Pisa, his having from the first published Pisa as the locality for its meeting, and finally his unwillingness to abandon these reasons without the Council’s having assembled at least once in that place.

Besides these there is another reason, which the king does not state, but which we have learned from Robertet, and which is of no less importance than all the others; namely, his Majesty fears lest some, if not all, of the cardinals would be angered by such a transfer, and that in their anger they might cause the King of the Romans to change, knowing perhaps how easy it is to turn him, having but quite lately had proof of his want of firmness. Having spent considerable time in this discussion, and being convinced that we could not obtain any other result upon the first two points, we came to the third, which had for its object to gain a delay of two or three months. The advantage of this, we argued, would be that, under color of being able within that time to negotiate some agreement, we should have the opportunity of seeing the issue of the Pope’s illness, of increasing the difficulties of war by delaying it until near winter, and finally of giving more time to our people for securing themselves more effectually. His Majesty was persuaded by our arguments, and promised us to do all he could, so that between now and All Saints no one should go to Pisa; and he directed that the cardinals be written to, to defer their departure. But I do not believe that his Majesty wants the cardinals openly to know the motives of this postponement, and therefore it will be done by various expedients. The first one will be not to send them copies of the safe-conduct which they have demanded; for they have declared that they will  under no circumstances go to Pisa unless they have the original safe-conduct, or a copy of the same; and therefore they will not be written to by this post, so as the longer to delay their reply. This first expedient will accomplish what has been promised to us; and this delay seems to us to the purpose, as the cardinals will not go any farther without being thoroughly secured.

Your Lordships can see now what we have done and what we have gained up to the present; and for the future we shall not fail, not only to see that the promises are fulfilled, but also to endeavor to obtain what until now has been refused.

Respecting English affairs I do not see that there is any ground for apprehensions, and here they seem to feel entirely secure upon that point. They have recently again had letters from that sovereign and from his council, which have given great satisfaction. Of the Emperor nothing of particular importance is known, except that four days ago news came that he had gone in the direction of Trent, whereupon it was immediately decided that the imperial ambassador should leave in all haste to find his Majesty. I believe the reason for this was the fear lest the Emperor should change his intentions; and therefore they have sent his own ambassador back to him to keep him firm to his purpose, and to conclude some arrangement with him.

Since then, and just as the ambassador was about to leave, fresh advices have come from the Emperor which caused them not to carry out that intention, as these advices brought satisfactory assurances from that quarter.

Not having anything further to communicate at this time, I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Servitor

Robertus Acciaiolus,
Orator.

Blois,

24 September, 1511

P. S. — In speaking of peace the king charged me in the greatest secrecy to write to your Lordships, and to urge you to make every possible effort to bring about such a peace; not, however, on the part of his Majesty, but as being entirely on your own account. And to request your Lordships most particularly to let it be known only to very few persons. And to act in this matter with the greater confidence, your Lordships must know  that his Catholic Majesty has given the king to understand that, for the purpose of facilitating an arrangement so far as in his power, he would be willing to let Bologna remain in the present state. Monsignore di Tivoli has been informed in part of the object of Machiavelli’s coming, and was well satisfied with it. He has promised to use his good offices with the Pope in favor of the object desired by your Lordships.

Niccolo Machiavelli

24 September, 1511

Blois

LETTER IV.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I arrived here last Monday at an early hour of the morning; it was impossible for me to reach here sooner, having lost three days at Borgo a San Donnino and Milan. I presented myself before his Majesty the king in company with his Magnificence the ambassador, who has written you a detailed report of all we did, to which I refer in all respects. I shall remain here so long as it may please his Majesty; that is to say, so long as he may deem it necessary for the object of my mission, which cannot exceed six or eight days. After that I shall return with his Majesty’s gracious permission, and the good pleasure of your Lordships, to whom I ever recommend myself.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret.

Blois,

24 September, 1511

COMMISSION TO PISA AT THE TIME OF THE COUNCIL.

THE TEN TO THE CARDINALS THAT WERE AT PISA. 2 November, 1511.

Reverendissimi in Christo Patres, etc. —

Mittimus ad reverendissimas dominationes vestras Nicolaum Machiavellum civem et Secretarium nostrum; mandavimusque illi multa quæ referat coram reverendissimis dominationibus vestris: quibus placeat super eis nostra de causa fidem illi habere certissimam. Quæ bene valeant.

THE TEN TO THE SEIGNEUR DE LAUTREC. 2 November, 1511.

Illustrious Seigneur: —

We send to your Lordship our citizen and Secretary, Niccolo Machiavelli, to whom we have entrusted certain matters which we desire your Lordship should know; and we therefore beg your Lordship to give him the most entire credence.

THE TEN TO NICCOLO MACHIAVELLI. 3 November, 1511.

We have nothing to communicate to you by this letter except that since your departure from here we have heard from Rosso Ridolfi and Antonio Portinari that matters are going on quietly enough at Pisa; and therefore it seems to us proper to say to you that, unless some special necessity should occur for the three hundred infantry, you will not raise them. But should you see that they are necessary, then you will act according to the original order given you on the subject. We have nothing else to say, for whatever is new here we write to Rosso Ridolfi, from whom you will learn all we communicate to him.

IV.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

You will have learned through the letters from the Lords Commissioners how matters are going on here. By these presents I have thought to make known to you that I went  this morning to make a visit to the Cardinal Santa Croce, with whom I had a long interview, my sole object being to point out to him the difficulties which this locality and the times bring with them, and which will constantly increase, the longer the cardinals remain, and the more people come here, and therefore your Lordships begged him to excuse them, etc., etc. To this the Cardinal replied, that although there was no abundance, yet the scarcity was supportable, and that therefore they did not complain. That they were fully aware that the palaces were not equal to those of Milan, nor life so agreeable as in France; still, if either on their own account, or on account of your Lordships, it was deemed advisable to change the locality, it might be done.

I told him that I should speak upon this point only according to my own opinion, and that I believed it would be a wise thing to go from here; for, first, they would be relieved of the anxiety respecting lodgings; and secondly, the removal of the Council from his immediate neighborhood would make the Pope cool down, and render him less active in opposing it by arms and other means; and thirdly, by the transfer of the Council to some place, either in France or Germany, the people there would be found more disposed to obey than what the people of Tuscany are, because the Emperor and the King can control their people more easily than what your Lordships ever could do. And as the opportunity seemed to me favorable, I entreated him not to consent to have your Lordships constrained to do what you neither could nor should do; and that I believed that the coming of one man voluntarily to this Council would give it more reputation than twenty that were forced to come against their will. I went on trying to persuade him to the best of my ability, and finally concluded by coming back to the proposition to remove the Council from here, but as coming entirely from myself; demonstrating to him that it would be a wise and most useful thing to do, and calculated to produce the best effects.

The Cardinal replied to me that he would speak with his colleagues about it, but that it would be necessary to write to France and to the Emperor; whereupon I reminded him that at San Donnino he and the other cardinals had told me that, after two or three sessions of the Council at Pisa, it should be transferred to another place. He admitted the truth of this,  and said that he would think of what they ought to do; and that I might rest assured that nothing unbecoming would be asked of your Lordships. “In fact,” added he, “your Signori will not be satisfied that we should dismiss those priests who will not obey us.” To which I replied, that I did not know what support your Lordships could render them, but as to dismissing the priests, you had nothing whatever to do with it; and that that was a matter which they must settle amongst themselves.

His Eminence said nothing further on that point, but it seems to me that it will not be long before some new demand will be made of your Lordships, and of a sort that will not be very much to your mind. I have communicated all this to the Lords Commissioners, and they have thoroughly looked into the matter, and will make a report to your Lordships, to whom I recommend myself. Valete!

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret.

Pisa,

6 November, 1511

V.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

Our last letter to your Lordships was of yesterday, and we gave you therein full account of everything that had occurred. This morning the third session of the Council was held, with the usual ceremonies and sermons. After that two of the cardinals and four of the bishops were named as Commissioners of the Council; and without letters from them, or at least signed by two thirds of them, no prelate could leave the Council. And then it was announced that after the ceremonies of to-day’s session every one was free to leave, at their convenience; with the obligation, however, to be on the 10th of next month at  Milan, where, on the 13th, the day of Santa Lucia, the fourth session of the Council was to be held in the cathedral; and that in the interim they were to ask for a safe-conduct from the Pope, so as to enable them to send an ambassador to his Holiness to arrange for the transfer of the Council to some neutral place that would offer security to both parties.

This is the sum and substance of what was done this morning. At the twentieth hour a general meeting is to be held at the house of the Cardinale di Santa Croce; and this morning they have ordered Rosso to notify the Rectors to be there, so as to take leave of them. We know of nothing else that they would wish to say to them.

Rosso Ridolfi et Antonio Portinari,
Commissioners, etc.

Pisa,

12 November, 1511

COMMISSION FOR RAISING TROOPS.

LETTERS PATENT.

We, Nine of the Ordinance and Florentine Militia,

Make known to all who may see these our letters patent, that the bearer of the same is Niccolo Machiavelli, son of Messer Bernardo Machiavelli, Secretary of our Illustrious Signori, and who is sent by us into the province of Romagna to select and enroll men capable of bearing arms, to serve on foot in our militia organization, under such banners as we shall assign to that province. And therefore we command all our subjects in the said province of Romagna to render him all obedience; and you Rectors and officials are to give him all the aid and support he may need in selecting and enrolling these men.

Dat. in

Palatio Florentino,

2 December, 1511

Niccolo Machiavelli

5 December, 1511

Bibbiena

LETTER.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

To-day I have given the advance to one hundred new men to serve in the cavalry, and have distributed them under the same banners; namely, Val d’ Arno, Val di Chiana, and Casentino. I found the two hundred infantry of the first levy in the best order; and these new ones will be fully equipped during this month, after which your Lordships can employ these three hundred cavalry wherever you may wish. I leave here to-day for Val di Bagno, to execute the order of the Nine, and commend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret.

Bibbiena,

5 December, 1511

COMMISSIONS TO PISA AND OTHER PLACES WITHIN AND WITHOUT THE FLORENTINE DOMINION.

Niccolo Machiavelli

7 May, 1512

Pisa

LETTER I.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I arrived here yesterday evening, having written to your Lordships from Poggibonsi that I would do so. I found here your Lordships’ letters in which you inform me that you would send me the money to-morrow; which is very necessary, so that the citadel may not remain bare. I had an interview this morning with the constables of the citadel, together with the captain; and after much discussion we have agreed to retain of their old companies some eighty men, all of which have served a considerable time in the wars of Pisa; they are reliable and of good quality. To fill up their number I have sent to Pescia for forty men; and to raise these I have sent them forty ducats out of the money which I had with me from the horses. They will be here to-morrow evening, and by day after to-morrow I believe I shall have everything organized. Your Lordships may perhaps think that I have allowed too many of the old men to remain; but I thought it necessary, first because it seemed to me cruel to discharge these men who have served so long; and then the constables declared that they should not know what to say or do without this half of their old companies. And furthermore I believe that, when one commits a place of so much importance as this to the charge of any one, it is advisable to keep him as far as possible satisfied, so as to afford him, in any event, as little ground as possible for excuse.

But let it suffice your Lordships, that with the old and the new men a good garrison will be organized, and that you will not be defrauded; for I shall order that the pay shall always  be made according to the old list, and that you shall have a duplicate of it; and that they shall neither diminish nor increase the number without the express order of your Lordships, to whom I recommend myself.

Pisa,

7 May, 1512

P. S. — The money ordered will be enough for the number of men decided upon, and will rather exceed what is required.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret.

Niccolo Machiavelli

29 May, 1512

Fucecchio

LETTER II.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

From your Lordships’ letter of yesterday I note again your wishes respecting the garrison of the new citadel of Pisa, and of the gates. Your Lordships had already told me verbally of this, and wishing to be in a measure prepared when your instructions should come to hand, I have enlisted fifty men in the vicariate of San Miniato, and fifty in that of Pescia. These men will make good soldiers, and are satisfied to be paid for forty-five days; but it will be necessary that the Chamberlain of Pisa should pay them, and that they shall not have to look to Florence for their money, as in that case the forty-five days would probably become fifty, and some fair day the citadel would be left without a soldier; it is necessary, therefore, to think of this and provide for it.

I am now here at Fucecchio and have finished to-day all I had to do in this vicariate, and should have gone to-morrow to Pisa to carry out your Lordships’ instructions if you had sent me the money to pay these new troops. But as you have not sent it, my going to Pisa would do harm rather than good; for I should not be able to say anything until the money arrived, and thus my time would be lost. And were I to make this fact known without being prepared to put other men in their place, the posts would be left without any garrison. I shall therefore go to-morrow to Pescia, and remain three or four days in that vicariate, where your Lordships will please send me the money for raising troops there, and to pay the others; and I shall then go to execute the orders you have given me. But  as your Lordships have told me in your verbal instructions that, if amongst the thirty old troops that are to remain there be any that deserved less pay than Daccio and Gianetto, and yet more than ordinary men, I should give them thirty lire; and as you do not refer to this in your letter, I know not whether you may not have changed your mind, and therefore I beg you kindly to repeat your instructions upon that point.

I have nothing further to say other than to recommend myself to your Lordships.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret.

Fucecchio,

29 May, 1512

Niccolo Machiavelli

5 June, 1512

Poggibonsi

LETTER III.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I came to Sienna in accordance with your Lordships’ instructions, but could not obtain an audience from the Balia before Friday morning, when I communicated to them all that your Lordships had charged me with; after which I thought it proper to go and see Borghese.† I was most kindly received by all, who showed that this demonstration towards them by your Lordships was most grateful to them. Borghese in particular told me that your Lordships might count upon the republic of Sienna as upon one of your own cities; and that they wished in all respects to share the fortunes of your republic; and he thanked your Lordships infinitely for the kind interest you had taken in him. The Cardinal,‡ according to what I hear, will not be in Sienna before next Wednesday, and as you have not told me, I do not think I shall stay here for any other purpose except what your Lordships have specially charged me with.

The city of Sienna is very tranquil, and the only thing that agitates it is the murder of the Bargello some days since under the very eyes of Borghese; the murderers being all his relations and friends. To leave this murder unpunished would seem to allow too much authority to Borghese; whilst to avenge it might give rise to disturbances. I have conversed with some of the first citizens, who tell me that so long as they had your Lordships’ friendship there would be no disturbances in their city; and being assured of that, you could depend upon their good will. These persons also told me that they would desire your Lordships to write to the Rectors nearest to Sienna, if they heard of any gathering of their banished or any other persons, to prohibit the same, and to advise your Lordships of it. I promised to mention this to your Lordships, to whom I recommend myself.

I am now here in Poggibonsi, but shall be at Pisa to-morrow evening. Valete!

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret.

Poggibonsi,

5 June, 1512

Niccolo Machiavelli

10 June, 1512

Pisa

LETTER IV.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

Day before yesterday your courier Domenico arrived with the money to pay the garrisons of the citadel and gates. They were all paid yesterday, in such manner as I shall report verbally and in detail to your Lordships on my return to Florence, which will be in six or eight days after I shall have done what the Illustrious Nine have instructed me to do in relation to the organization of the cavalry. I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli,
Secret.

Pisa,

10 June, 1512

Marcello Virgilio

23 June, 1512

Ex Palatio Florentino

LETTERS PATENT. We, the Ten of Liberty and Balia of the Florentine Republic, etc.,

Make known to all who may see these letters patent that the bearer thereof is Niccolo Machiavelli, son of Messer Bernardo, our citizen and Secretary, whom we send as our Commissioner for the whole of the Val di Chiana to execute the orders we have given him.

And to that effect we command all of you Condottieri of men-at-arms, and whoever is in command of the light cavalry of the Ordinance, that you render obedience to the said Niccolo in all he may direct you to do, the same as you would to our magistracy, if they were themselves to give you orders.

And to you, Commissioners, Rectors, officials, and subjects of ours, in whatever place of the said province you may be established, we command to give him all aid and support in all that he may ask of you; for it will be with our consent, and by our order, if you attach any value to the satisfaction of our magistrature.

Marcello Virgilio.

Ex Palatio Florentino,

23 June, 1512

Battista di Nobile

27 June, 1512

Montepulciano

LETTER V.

Magnificent and Most Illustrious Signori, etc. —

By our last of the 25th, we informed your Lordships what we had learned and ordered up to the present. It seemed to us proper by every consideration, and more especially on account of those persons here who claim to be friendly to us, and most of all on account of those of the country who were greatly afraid lest they should in some way be injured, to send for Aurelio da Castello with 300 of his infantry, who came very promptly with a portion of his troop. During the night some 600 more came, although not ordered by us. Nevertheless, I judge their coming was very opportune, because, first, whoever was disposed to make trouble has seen that it would be a difficult  matter; and those who wish to live quietly have taken fresh courage, seeing that your Lordships were not disposed to abandon them.

The coming of Niccolo Machiavelli was also most opportune, and immediately upon his arrival I deemed it proper for him to speak to the Priors, and these wanted the council to be present. As you may well imagine, Machiavelli exhorted them with great wisdom, and assured them, with most excellent and efficient reasons, that they had nothing to fear, either on this occasion or under more difficult circumstances, inasmuch as your Lordships had such an affection for them that you would never abandon them; to which he added other good words, etc., etc. So that, thanks to these two circumstances, everything seems settled for the present; and, with a view not to incur too much expense, we have sent back all the troops, retaining only about 150 of the best. Of these we send 50 this morning to Valiano, where there is still the company of Malatesta; and where some intrenchments are to be thrown up, as I stated in a previous letter. We have given ten barili to each chief of a banner and captain of a squadron that we have kept; and to those whom we have sent back, we have given each one barile; although both Machiavelli and the Count thought I ought to keep more of them. But we held to this because I did not want to occasion any greater expense, and because I thought the number kept were sufficient for the present. Should, however, your Lordships think differently, you will please advise me of your wishes in the matter.

The Papal troops that were at Pienza and at the Val d’ Orchia started yesterday morning and came to Torrita, Asinalunga and Rigomagno, and Lucignano, where they intend to stop to-day. They are in all 238 horse, having been counted by Ricafolo, captain of the Count’s light-horse. At an early hour we sent this officer off with a squad of 25 horse, and he has been close at the enemy’s heels until they were past, so that they should not debauch our troops, as they had done in the Siennese territory; and thus they dared not halt on our territory. Subsequently, the Signor Count also went off with 25 men-at-arms, to take up his quarters on the frontier, where the Signor Giovanni Corrado came to meet him; and, as I am  informed, they had a long conference together. But it seems to me, and to the Signor Count likewise, that he did not get the whole truth from Corrado respecting the Pope’s intentions, and as to what he was about to do. But he urged the Count to make terms with his Holiness; to which the Count replied in suitable manner, and afterwards requested me to write to your Lordships about it, and ask you kindly to advise him what to do in the matter, as he would ten times rather lose his state than to take such a step without your approval. In truth, the Signor Count manifests the greatest affection for our republic, both in words and acts, and regards neither trouble nor expense to render us service.

The troops that were at Orvieto went yesterday evening to Ponte a Centino, and up to this morning we have no information whether they have left there or not; we believe they have, but shall know definitely in a few hours. It is only the company of the Signor Julio, and consists of 250 horse. Since then we learn that at this moment there are at Acquapendente Piero and Antonio Santa Croce, and Orsino da Mugnano, with some 200 horse more. The Count Alessandro da Marzano with only four cavaliers arrived yesterday evening at Orvieto, and had a conference with the Pope’s commissioner. It is supposed that he will advance with his company, which has remained behind, and consists of 25 men-at-arms; the same with regard to the Conte dell’ Anguillara, who has 60 men-at-arms.

This is all I have learned up to the present moment. These captains have said that they sent two days ago to your Lordships for a free passage; but they have said to some persons in great secrecy that they have come for the purpose of carrying into effect what I wrote to your Lordships in my last.

Niccolo Machiavelli left here yesterday morning for Valiano to inspect the intrenchments there; and after that he is to go to Monte San Savino to establish a point of defence between there and Fojano, as I stated in my former letter.

Here we are diligently engaged in establishing a good guard, and shall be very vigilant; and we have no apprehensions but what, with the provisions made, and the good judgment and activity of the Signor Count, we shall be safe from all harm. Should we hear differently, we shall immediately  notify your Lordships, to whom I do not cease to recommend myself. Nec plura.

Montepulciano,

27 June, 1512

P. S. — At this moment, it being near the tenth hour, I receive your Lordships’ letter of the 25th, to which we have no further reply to make beyond what I have said above. I am glad to learn that they have sent to ask free passage, and hope your Lordships have granted that request. At the risk of seeming presumptuous, I would humbly suggest that they should be obliged to take another route from that through the Mugello, so as to deprive them of all opportunity of doing mischief. And if I speak too openly, it is my love and affection for my country that makes me do so, and I trust your Lordships will pardon it.

Io. Battista di Nobile,
Podesta and Captain.

Francesco Zati

21 August, 1512

Scarperia

LETTER VI.

Magnificent and most Illustrious Signori: —

At this moment, it being the eighteenth hour, Niccolo Machiavelli has left for Firenzuola; he has arranged for the money to pay all the troops of this valley and those of Marradi, with instructions to move them all in the least possible time to Firenzuola. Notice of this has been given to Pier Francesco Tosinghi at Barberino, on the supposition that he is there; of all this you will be informed by Machiavelli, in his letter to your Lordships.

Since my last, I have nothing to communicate, unless I were to repeat the same things. The bearer of this, who was yesterday at Bologna, will give you a full verbal report. Two notices in writing will be enclosed with this. Nec alia.

Francesco Zati,
Vicar and Commissioner.

Scarperia,

21 August, 1512

Niccolo Machiavelli

22 August, 1512

Firenzuola

LETTER VII.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

This morning at the fourteenth hour I wrote to your Lordships all that I had learned in relation to matters here. Since then Lamberto Cambi arrived, whom I informed of all my proceedings and designs; and as he is writing at length to your Lordships, I have nothing further to report about matters here.

By the hands of the courier Cecotto I have received fifteen hundred ducats, according to what Quaratesi writes me, for I have not counted them myself. To-morrow we shall pay the troops, giving to each one third pay; and after that I shall return to Florence, so that I may serve your Lordships in some other way.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Firenzuola,

22 August, 1512

Balthasar Carducci

22 August, 1512

Firenzuola

LETTER VIII.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

This evening at half-past one of the night we arrived here, by the grace of God, safe and sound. Upon asking his Lordship the Commissioner and N. Machiavelli in what condition and place the Spanish army and his Lordship the Viceroy might be found, they replied that they had received various information, but had reported all fully to your Lordships, as they showed me by the registers. I will not, therefore, repeat all the details of the reports I have had, but shall confine myself to giving you the substance of what I have gathered from them; namely, that if they received soon from your Lordships an order to collect as large a force of infantry and cavalry as could be got together for the purpose of making a decided stand, they could readily do it; although they might not be able to prevent the enemy’s passage. Nevertheless, you would be able with the troops which Machiavelli will take from here, to the number of more than two thousand choice men, to unite with that force of infantry and cavalry raised for the purpose of  making a stand. And assuming that everything remains quiet in your city, as we confidently believe that it will, your Lordships may hope that matters may result successfully, and according to your desire. And may God in his grace cause it to turn out so.

To-morrow morning I shall, God willing, leave in time to go to Lojano. This route is not considered free from danger, on account of the troops from Sassatello, and other Italians, who are on this route to join the Spanish forces in the direction of Bruscoli. I shall make every effort to obtain from his Lordship the Commissioner, and from Niccolo Machiavelli, an escort that will go in advance to examine the road and see whether it is obstructed or not so far as it leads to that place, where I hope to obtain positive information as to the whereabouts of the Viceroy. So soon as I have ascertained this, I shall at once seek an interview with him, and, with all the security which his Lordship can procure for me, make a beginning at the execution of the commission with which your Lordships have intrusted me.

May God in his grace grant us a favorable issue! Bene atque feliciter vestræ valeant Dominationes.

Servitor

Balthasar Carducci,
Orator Florentinus.

Firenzuola,

22 August, 1512

Francesco Zati

22 August, 1512

Scarperia

LETTER IX.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

At this moment, it being the fourteenth hour and a half, a letter has been received from Niccolo Machiavelli, which is sent herewith enclosed. In relation to what he says of Alessandro del Nero, you may take it for certain that full information has been received. The same with regard to the artillery; and I have ascertained, by persons whom I have sent for the purpose, that all that is contained in his letter is correct. But it seems to me that matters move a little more slowly than what they pretend; so that, if you hasten, you may yet retain them on the  other side of the state; although you will hear the truth more fully from Francesco Tosinghi.

This morning, seeing that the men of this place complain that they are unprovided with any means of defence, I had them all called together, and exhorted them to guard their own village. Should they therefore apply to your Lordships for some artillery and ammunition for the defence of this place, I beg your Lordships to let them have it. And moreover I have offered myself, as is in fact my duty, to share their fate with them. I recommend myself to your Lordships, and may God guard you! Nec alia.

Francesco Zati,
Vicar and Commissioner.

Scarperia,

22 August, 1512

Piero Francesco de Tosinghi

23 August, 1512

Barberino Mugellana

LETTER X.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

My last letter to your Lordships was written yesterday evening; I therein told you all I had heard of the enemy up to that time; and that not a single man remains here. Since then, two of your Lordships’ letters of yesterday have been received; one at the twentieth hour, and the other at night. In the latter, you commission me to send and have the roads cut over which the enemy has to pass. But your Lordships must know that it would be impossible to have this done, or to have any other order executed; for, as I have already said above, there is not a single man left here whom I could send from one place to another, and to-night even we had to do without escorts, and with no protection but what nature gave us; and therefore it is impossible for us to make any provision for defence, and the enemy has it in his power to scour the country wherever he pleases. This place is entirely abandoned, and, according to what I hear, the Podesta and the customs officer intend to leave here. But even if we had the men to do the work, it would be of no use to cut the passes; for the mountain on this side is so open, that artillery could easily pass over it at this season; and, furthermore, the enemy is in such force here, that the inhabitants cannot go where their business calls them. In fact, those who have their property and dwellings  on the mountain are all flying from here. I am informed that at Bruscoli, which is but a few miles from here, some hundred and fifty Spanish horse are quartered, who go about everywhere robbing, and have captured some of the men of Bruscoli. It is necessary, therefore, to think of other measures. I must govern myself according to the information I receive from hour to hour.

To-night there came here three men, sent by the communes of Ronta and Pulciano, to inform me that there was on the borders of Marradi a large body of infantry under the command of Vicenzio di Naldo of Berzighella, who purposed to pass from there by the Marradi road. These men asked me for a supply of artillery and munitions, showing me that they were admirably disposed towards your Lordships; but they had been robbed of everything, and were unable to offer any resistance to the enemy. I advised them to be of good cheer, and told them that I would write to your Lordships. I could not do otherwise, and now give you notice of it. Yesterday I wrote to Machiavelli at Firenzuola, urging him to gather a strong body of infantry at Firenzuola and at the Stale, so as to make the enemy less confident in their advance. But I have no reply from him; I had, however, to-night a letter from Lamberto Cambi of that place, who does not tell me either whether Machiavelli is there, or whether the infantry that was there had left, in which case it would be in the power of a few of the enemy’s horse to scour the whole country. But if there were a good body of troops there, then the enemy would be obliged to have some respect for them.

The said Lamberto informs me in his letter of the substance of two messages which he had received from Machiavelli respecting the enemy; and so that your Lordships may also be fully informed on the subject, I send you the said letter herewith enclosed. Bene valete.

Piero Francesco de Tosinghi,
Commiss. General.

Barberino Mugellana,

23 August, 1512

Lamberto di Cambi

23 August, 1512

Firenzuola

LETTER XI.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

Yesterday evening at the twenty-third hour I wrote to your Lordships all that I had been able to gather from all sides respecting the enemy. Since then two of our men returned, to-night, and report matters to be unchanged, and that the enemy has not advanced any farther. They may, however, change their mind and make an advance; but your Lordships shall be informed from hour to hour of whatever news I hear.

This morning I examined the place, and afterwards went to the palace and ordered everything that can possibly be done for the present. His Lordship the Vicar and Niccolo Machiavelli and myself are in perfect harmony as to what is necessary to be done, and in providing for it. We assembled a portion of the infantry this morning, and gave to each man a ducat; and we are now calling the remainder together for the same purpose. We do not as yet know the precise number, but we agree in estimating it to be over a thousand; so soon as they are all together, we will inform your Lordships.

The ambassador, Messer Baldassare, left this morning at an early hour. In accordance with your Lordships’ orders, we provided him with an escort, so that he may travel with more security.

If we could have had for the defence of this place some three or four more artillerists, we should have been very glad; nevertheless, we are of good cheer and consider ourselves quite safe. May it please our Lord God that it prove so in reality! I have nothing more to say except to recommend myself to the good graces of your Lordships, and may the Almighty bestow happiness on you!

Lamberto di Cambi,
Commissioner.

Firenzuola,

23 August, 1512

MISSION TO THE CHAPTER OF THE MINORITE BROTHERS AT CARPI.

INSTRUCTIONS OF THE EIGHT OF PRACTICE. Deliberated, the 11th of May, 1521.

Niccolo, —

You will proceed to Carpi, and manage to be there the whole of Thursday, which you must not miss. Immediately on your arrival you will present yourself before his Reverence the Father-General of the Order of the Minorite Brothers, and his assistants, who are holding their general chapter in that place, and present to them our letters of credence. After that you will say to their Reverences on our part, that they must be well aware that our republic ever has been, is, and always will be well disposed towards all pious and ecclesiastical establishments, as is proved by the number of hospitals, monasteries, and convents founded by our ancestors; and that nothing has conduced more to these pious works than the edifying example of the habits and doctrines of these religious bodies, whose conduct moved their souls to exalt and support them. And you will add, that amongst those who  have been special objects on the part of our republic, and have received most benefits at our hands, are the brothers of their order, because their honesty and their exemplary lives deserved it. Unfortunately, it is true that for some time past it has seemed, and still seems, to our best and most pious citizens, that there has manifested itself amongst the brothers a lack of that spirit of sanctity which formerly put them in such good odor; and that in consequence the laymen have relaxed their charitable zeal, which made them formerly shower benefits upon the brotherhood. And in seeking for the cause we have readily found that it arises from the relaxation of discipline that has taken place in their convents. And in trying to find a remedy for this, we learn that it is impossible for this order to recover its ancient reputation, unless they form a separate and distinct organization for our Florentine dominion. In adopting that course the brothers would more easily know and correct each other, and fear more to err. Fully persuaded that there is no other course to be taken, we wish you to urge and beg these reverend fathers to do our republic the favor to constitute themselves a distinct organization for the Florentine dominion, and separate from the rest of Tuscany.

If they do this, and we believe they will not hesitate, they will be doing an act that will be most agreeable to our entire city, which by former as well as by recent services rendered to their religion deserves to obtain what she so much desires. And they will be the cause of reviving in the convents which they possess in our dominion the ancient zeal, and in our city the charity of former days. They will also remove the causes of those scandals that are likely to break out if this favor is not conceded to us. You will endeavor, therefore, by all the means in your power, to persuade the reverend fathers that such is our great desire.

You will furthermore present to them the letters of the most illustrious and most reverend Legate, the Cardinale de’ Medici, and beg them on his behalf to render us this service, as his most reverend Lordship has verbally commissioned you to do. Nor can we believe that our prayers, the love of religion, and the authority of Monsignore the most reverend Legate will fail to move them. But if with all this you do not obtain the desired result, then you will politely signify to the reverend fathers that we are resolved not to give up our project; nor do we  believe that Monsignore the most reverend Legate will cease to support us, until in one way or another we accomplish our desire.

Datum Florentiæ in loco Residentiæ sub die

11 Maii 1521

Octo Viri Practicæ Civitatis Florentiæ.
Niccolo Michelotto.

OTHER INSTRUCTIONS BY FATHER HILARION.

Inprimis, you will present yourself to me at Carpi, and I will make known to you those brothers to whom it is important you should speak; and you must endeavor to be at Carpi during the 16th, at least before vespers.

The letter to Brother Francesco da Potenza should be presented as soon as possible; you will explain to him on the part of the most illustrious and most reverend Legate, that his reverend Lordship desires that our present organization should be divided, for the reasons given below; and as his Lordship has heard that this brother is opposed to such a division, you will endeavor to persuade him to change his mind and favor the measure. For his Lordship is certain that, if Brother Francesco will favor it, success will be the result; whilst the opposite course would be the reverse of agreeable to his most reverend Lordship, who will not disappoint either the citizens or the brothers.

You will have to add, that his most reverend Lordship anticipated that he would be opposed to the Florentine brothers, and that, if this were really the case, it would be agreeable to him that in all reasonable matters he should be the friend of his friends. In fine, you will try to convince him with those persuasive words that are so natural to you.

In the letters of the Signoria and the Cardinal to the council of the assistants, you are charged to beg them, in their name, to consent that a separate organization be formed by the brothers that are in the Florentine dominion. The reason of this is, that for some time past it is reported that some of the brothers stray very far from the exemplary and edifying life to which their rules oblige them. And as they are informed that  these disorders arise from a lack of discipline, they judge, together with all the other respectable people, that this will be the only seasonable remedy; and you will use the following arguments to persuade them: —

Because they desire the brothers to be in good, and not in bad odor, — as they have been until now.

Because this measure is desired by many citizens, whom their Lordships wish to satisfy.

Because they know that, if this measure is not adopted, it would give rise to inconveniences, of which they do not wish to hear under any circumstances, but which they desire to provide against.

Because they know that the brothers of their dominion, especially the good men, claim this measure as necessary for their reformation, which they cannot and will not neglect.

Because their Lordships desire this measure to be adopted in the customary way of proceeding by the brotherhood, and influenced by their love for their religion; and they do not wish to think of any other means.

With the above arguments, excepting the last, you may urge the measure in the name of the most reverend Cardinal; persuading the fraternity on behalf of his most reverend Lordship to satisfy the Illustrious Signoria and the citizens. You can add to your reply that the most reverend Legate viva voce oraculi has twice tried within a few days to persuade the Vicar of the order, who wanted to refer the matter to the general chapter; and he now begs and exhorts their fraternity to consent. That he deems it expedient, for the purpose of removing all inconvenience, that they should do it; and that they ought to think well, that if they do not do it his most reverend Lordship has fully done his duty; and that, if at some time hereafter the citizens wished to adopt some other expedient, his most reverend Lordship would not fail his citizens nor his brothers. All these things you must arrange in such manner and with such words as may seem most suitable.

To the most Reverend and most Illustrious Cardinale Giulio de’ Medici.

Most Reverend Father: —

As these friars did not begin their chapter until Saturday, I could not execute my commission sooner. On that day they named for their Minister-General the Soncino, who had previously been their Vicar-General. On the Sunday following, they appointed twelve Assessors, who were so called this time because the brothers from across the mountains did not want that, according to the old custom of the Italians, they should create Diffinitori, with authority to determine and define questions of religion. By this change these Assessors are elected, and these together with the Minister-General have authority to hear and examine matters, and then to report them to the chapter, which body then has power to terminate them.

I therefore presented myself yesterday morning before the Minister and the Italian Assessor. I handed them my letters, and explained to them my commission in such manner and with such remarks as I thought best calculated to persuade them to the desired course of action; and I neglected no argument which your most reverend Lordship suggested to me verbally at my departure, and which were subsequently recalled to me by Brother Hilarion. Thereupon, the reverend fathers held a long consultation amongst themselves, and then had me called in and expressed to me first the great obligations which they owed to our republic, to your illustrious house, and finally to your most reverend Lordship; that they wanted not only in thought, but in fact, to do what would be most agreeable to all; and that they knew full well that the motives of the Magistracy of the Eight and the desires of your most reverend Lordship were good, and inspired by the most just and most reasonable considerations. But what was asked of them was in itself of such importance as no other question that the order had been called upon to treat for two hundred years; and therefore it was necessary to give it the most careful examination, together with the advice and opinion of the other fathers of the chapter, as they had no authority to act without them. That they would endeavor before the dissolution of the chapter to arrive at some definite conclusion, that would be satisfactory to the illustrious  Magistracy of the Eight, as well as to your most reverend Lordship. But as the question was a knotty and difficult one, and could not be so readily disposed of, and at the same time to prove their good disposition to the illustrious Signori of the Eight and to your most reverend Lordship, and so that I should not be obliged to wait here several days in vain, they would write to the illustrious Signori and to your most reverend Lordship the same as they had told me, and that I could carry their reply away with me. And thus in all they said they showed on the one hand the desire they had to oblige those who had requested them, and on the other hand the importance and difficulty of the subject; alleging the same reasons which your most reverend Lordship may have heard on former occasions.

I did not fail to reply to them in the warmest manner possible, and urged them to leave these difficulties aside, and frankly to come to a definite result; telling them particularly that I had not been sent by the illustrious magistracy to dispute about this matter, which they had themselves most carefully examined and discussed, but to make known their wishes to the reverend fathers, and to beg them to satisfy the same, which could only be done by complying with their request. I said, furthermore, that I saw two points in their answer calculated to displease the illustrious Signori; the one was the prolixity of their resolution, and the other, their attempt to negotiate about it, and remit the question to the chapter. For they well knew that, when a few persons do not want to do a thing and wish to make difficulties, they remit it to the multitude. But that this point had been thought of, and provided against in such manner that not only their reverences united, but the Minister-General by himself, had authority from the Pope to conclude such a separation, without having to submit it to the chapter; and that, moreover, the briefs themselves imposed this upon them, saying, “habito prius maturo examine, et super hoc onerando conscientias vestras.” But that we must not think ill of them, as they would really do everything in their power to satisfy us. And thus, after many words on both sides, no other conclusion was reached.

Before speaking to all the fathers together, I had a special conversation with Father Potenza, and presented to him your most reverend Lordship’s letter, and pressed him hard,  on your part, to show himself favorable to your wishes in this matter, intimating to him dexterously that it was wisdom on the part of men to know how to give that which they could neither sell nor keep. It is impossible to evince greater warmth in desiring to favor the matter than he did, protesting that he was the slave of your most reverend Lordship, whose slightest indications were commands for him. After that I spoke with all the others, one at a time, employing more ardent and pressing language than I had done in speaking to them all in a body, as your reverend Lordship had suggested to me. All pointed out the difficulty of carrying the matter through, and the disorder that would result from it if done; but all of them protested that your most reverend Lordship should be satisfied. From the expressions used by some of them, I am inclined to believe that they will commit the matter to their Minister-General, who, accompanied by three or four of the other fathers, will come to Tuscany to discuss and settle the matter there. If this course is taken, then Brother Hilarion feels sure that it will be concluded to our satisfaction.

Having thus done all that I have reported to your most reverend Lordship, and having the letters which the reverend fathers have charged me with, Brother Hilarion thought that I had better mount and use all diligence to reach Florence on Wednesday evening in time to enable the Eight of Practice to write another letter that would reach them before the dissolution of the chapter, which is fixed for Saturday or Sunday next. That letter should say to them that the Eight are not at all satisfied with the delay of the fathers in coming to a decision, and should conclude, in few but earnest words, that no other decision would satisfy them except such as would effectually make the desired division.

I arrived this evening here in Modena with that commission and order, but find that riding in such haste does not at all agree with me, owing to my being quite indisposed. I remember, also, that by order of your most reverend Lordship I was to remain here one or two days; and therefore thought it well to write to your most reverend Lordship, and give you information upon all points, which will answer the same as my coming in person, especially as it will be there quicker, in case you should conclude to write to them again before the dissolution of the chapter.

Messer Gismondi dei Sali, business agent of the Signor Alberto, has rendered very great service in this affair, of which I wished to bear testimony to your most reverend Lordship; for in words and in acts he shows himself most devoted to your most reverend Lordship, to whom I recommend myself.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli.

MISSION TO VENICE.

CREDENTIALS. SERENISSIMO PRINCIPI ET EXCELLENTISSIMO DOMINO ANDREÆ GRITTI, DEI GRATIA DUCI VENETIARUM PATR. OBSERV.

Most Serene Prince and Most Excellent Lord: —

We send to your Serene Highness our citizen Niccolo Machiavelli, who will relate to you in our name the extortion and violence beyond all expectation, and done in contempt of what is due to the friendship existing between your illustrious republic and ours, by a man in a port and town of your most illustrious dominion, against three of our young men who were coming from Ragusa with a sum of money which they brought from the Levant as is usual.

We beg your Serene Highness to put full faith in all that our envoy will explain to you in our name. And most earnestly do we entreat you to receive his reclamation favorably, and to cause restitution to be made to our merchants of what has so violently been taken from them. This is what we hope from the integrity and consummate justice of your most illustrious Serene Highness, to whom we recommend ourselves most humbly, and whom we pray the Almighty most happily to preserve.

Consules Artis Lanæ et Cons. Reip. Florentinæ in Romania } Civitatis Florentiæ.

Dat. Florentiæ ex officio nostro die

19 mensis Augusti 1525

BRIEF INSTRUCTION TO YOU, NICCOLO MACHIAVELLI, AS TO WHAT YOU HAVE TO DO IN YOUR MISSION TO VENICE, BY OUR ORDER.

Resolved upon by us, 19 August, 1525.

Very Dear Niccolo: —

We use but few words with you, because we know your prudence and the great experience you have so often shown in affairs of much greater difficulty than the present, and because you have fully understood our object in sending you to Venice. But so as not to fail in the responsibility which rests upon every one who sends another on a mission, we have prepared these few lines relative to what we intend you to do in our name on your mission to Venice. You will proceed then as promptly and as conveniently as you can to Venice, whither may our Lord God guide you safely. The first thing you are to do after your arrival will be to call upon the Bishop of Feltre, Papal Nuncio to that republic, for whom you have letters from Rome; and after having delivered these to him, we wish you to try, with all the skill you can command, to possess yourself of a letter that is enclosed in the letter to him. That letter is one of those which Benedetto Inghirami has written to us from Ancona, and in it he relates at length the whole affair. We had sent the letter to Rome, for the purpose of more fully elucidating the case; and at Rome they have enclosed it in the letter to the Nuncio which you are taking with you. We tell you this because that letter varies in some respects from the deposition of the witnesses, which might give umbrage and perhaps create difficulties rather than serve our cause.

After the Nuncio has read that letter, you must take it from his hands, saying that it is superfluous, as the young men who have written it are here in person, and can state their case better and with greater brevity verbally. Coming then to discuss as to what course to take, you will follow his Lordship’s advice, and then you will go with his Lordship, presuming that he will want to accompany you, or alone, and present yourself before the most illustrious Doge and the Venetian  lords, for whom you have a brief from his Holiness, and a letter from our Magnificent Signori, which you will present to them with the customary ceremonies. When you shall have obtained an audience and permission to speak, you will expose to their Lordships, on our behalf, the extortion and robbery beyond all expectation and what is due to the sincere friendship existing between their republic and ours, in their port and by a Venetian, upon three of our young men, who were coming from Ragusa with money brought from the Levant in the usual way. You will demand the restitution of what has been taken from them, in the strongest and most efficacious terms that you can employ, and which, with your habitual prudence, you will deem most suitable for obtaining the result we so much desire, and to get back what has been violently taken and stolen.

You will also take with you the deposition of the witnesses taken at Ancona and elsewhere, which you will use at such time and on such occasion as you may judge most to the purpose. You will also have with you two of those young men from whom the money was taken, so that you may daily make known the precise facts, and avail yourself of them on every occasion, and may boldly face any one who attempts to deny the facts.

This is all that occurs to us to tell you at this moment, and even this may be said to have been superfluous, for we feel persuaded that you fully understand our wishes, and will know better how to carry them into effect than we have told you above. We have every confidence in you and hope, as well from what we have heard, that his most illustrious Lordship the Doge, moved by his extreme sense of justice, and having heard the case, has already had the delinquent incarcerated, as by your efforts, that you will return promptly with the satisfaction which we ask.

The Consuls of the Wool Guild of the
City of Florence.

REPRESENTATIONS.

Serenissime, etc. —

Certain of our citizens and merchants who have lately come from Constantinople have reported an occurrence the outrageous nature of which has caused us great displeasure; and we hope that your Serene Highness in your benevolence towards us, as well as by your innate sense of justice, will be no less displeased. The following is a statement of the occurrence.

A brigantine coming from Ragusa, and having on board the aforesaid merchants with a considerable sum of money, arrived at Lesina, a port belonging to your illustrious dominion; there they found the brigantine commanded by Giovan Battista Donati, a Venetian citizen, who accompanied the Turkish ambassador. This Giovan Battista had the said merchants brought before him, and on certain iniquitous pretexts threatened them with loss of their lives, although without the least offence on their part. And after having subjected them to indignities which we should blush to repeat, he finally compelled them to ransom themselves with fifteen hundred gold ducats, which he extorted from them by the most frivolous pretexts. This outrage seems to us the greater and the more grave, as it has been inflicted upon us by a person whom we have never offended, so far as we are aware, and within the jurisdiction of those whose good will we have ever endeavored to merit by every kind of good offices. How deeply we have felt this outrage, and in what light it must be regarded by whoever hears of it, we do not think necessary to demonstrate by a lengthy discourse, well knowing the supreme wisdom and justice of your Serene Highness.

We wished to bring this occurrence to the notice of your Serene Highness by this present representation, persuaded that you will not forget what is due to our friendship, nor what is expected from your most illustrious republic, when we beg you to have some regard for a city which is so much attached to you as ours is; and to see to the indemnification of these our merchants, who, not to use a harsher expression, have not been treated as friends, and have been subjected to a villanous outrage beyond all reason. Our most dear fellow-citizen,  Niccolo Machiavelli, goes for this purpose to Venice, and will, in our name and on behalf of our merchants, explain the whole affair to you by word of mouth, relating to you precisely how the occurrences took place.

We desire above all things that your Serene Highness should be convinced that you cannot at this moment do anything that would be more agreeable to us than to order the restitution to these our merchants of the money so unjustly taken from them, — a restitution required by duty, so that every one may know that this villany was perpetrated in direct contravention of your will. If the habitual equity of your Serene Highness, as well as your ancient good will towards us, accords this grace, you will do what is really worthy of you, and most agreeable to ourselves; and which we shall receive as a benefit, and if occasion should ever present itself, we shall not fail to remember it at all times. Quæ bene valeat.

MISSION TO THE ARMY OF THE LEAGUE, ENGAGED IN THE SIEGE OF CREMONA.

INSTRUCTIONS GIVEN TO MICHIAVELLI BY FRANCESCO GUICCIARDINI, LIEUTENANT OF THE POPE AT THE ARMY OF THE LEAGUE.

There are two reasons for my sending you to Cremona; the first is, to know with the greatest possible certainty what the chances are for the success of that enterprise; and the second is, to make every effort to have the attempt abandoned, if within five or six days the city does not surrender. Therefore, besides the other efforts which you will make to inform yourself thoroughly upon the first point, you will have a letter of credence from me to the Venetian Proveditore, to whom you will communicate the first cause of your mission, begging him earnestly to tell you what he thinks of matters,  and what the Duke’s opinion is; giving him to understand that he may talk as freely with you as with myself.

As to the second object, taking your cue from the answer of the Proveditore, you will ask him on my part what he thinks of doing in case the place is not taken within five or six days. You can tell him that his Holiness, and the most illustrious Signoria of Venice, as well as the captains of the army, are of the opinion that to lose more time before Cremona would be pernicious, because it involves the loss of the opportunity for taking Genoa, which is the important object of the whole enterprise; and that, so long as the army remains before Cremona, Genoa cannot be taken, as the fleet alone is insufficient to do it; and the four thousand men of the Marquis of Saluzzo are but a feeble resource, particularly now, since the Spaniards that were at Alessandria are known to have entered Genoa; moreover, we do not believe that the Marquis would attempt to go there with so small a force.

Remind him that we have brought a large force of Swiss together, and are obliged to have two thousand Grisons come. And to see so great an accumulation of troops would be regarded by us as a great loss, and would create irreparable disorder, especially with regard to the Swiss, who when together in great number indulge every day in some act of sedition. A great many of them leave, but the expenses remain the same, and rather increase every day, whilst the number of troops diminishes. Presently we shall have winter upon us; and then we shall have the Spanish reinforcements on our back, which, according to the last news, are to set sail within a day or two. If these things come to pass before we shall have taken Genoa, or driven the enemy out of Milan, then our enterprise will remain in terrible disorder. You must therefore urge his Lordship to do his utmost to have the siege raised, in case the town cannot be taken within five or six days. Should his Lordship deem it proper that you should speak to the Doge, then you will do so; but you must do it with great caution, and not let him know my opinion, nor that of the captains. Tell him merely that the Holy Father has written to me that for the above-stated reasons it seems to him that no more time should be lost; but that anyhow this resolve must  be left to the wisdom of his Excellency; that on my part, however, I thought it proper to let him know the views of his Holiness.

Of all this you will say nothing to the Doge except under advice of the Proveditore, and in such manner as not to give him cause to get vexed.

Write by post, giving the letters to the Proveditore.

MISSION TO FRANCESCO GUICCIARDINI.

INSTRUCTIONS TO NICCOLO MACHIAVELLI, SENT BY THE MAGISTRACY OF THE EIGHT OF PRACTICE TO MESSER FRANCESCO GUICCIARDINI, LIEUTENANT OF HIS HOLINESS THE POPE.

30 November, 1526.

Whenever our city and this Magistracy have in the past sent any one of its citizens on a mission similar to the present one, they always selected a person whom they believed capable; and having orally informed him of the business and of the manner of proceeding, they did not deem it necessary to give him further particular instructions, except in so far as it was a good usage of the city to remind him of the principal points of the commission which he bore. Therefore having chosen you, Niccolo, because of your capacity and integrity, the present instructions are given you, not to serve as your rule of proceeding, but to conform to the old established usage, and so that you may always remember that your commission consists in substance of the articles given below, to wit: — First, you will proceed as promptly as possible to join Messer Francesco Guicciardini, to whom you will explain (although it would scarcely seem necessary) the confusion existing in our city from want of troops, money, and chiefs. And although our means of security are very feeble for many reasons, despite of the arrival of the Lansquenets, which is known to you as well as to Guicciardini, nevertheless we should cheerfully face fortune and defend ourselves if we knew for certain that our forces were sufficient, and that the hopes which we have placed in others would not lead us to manifest ruin. It is this thought that occupies us constantly, so that only to-day we have sent Francesco Antonio  Nori to the Count Pietro Navarra to induce him to accept the command of our troops. We shall make all possible provisions for our defence, if we can only be assured that the confederates and those who can help us do not withdraw to the rear. But as a republic, and one like ours especially, should keep several aims in view, carefully weighing each, so as to know their weakness or their strength, the uncertainty of the one and the security of the other, so as to be able to adopt the one that presents the least danger; therefore have we thought of sending you to his Lordship, as to one of our own citizens devotedly attached to his country, so that he may examine our situation, and say what he thinks of it according to his knowledge of events from day to day; and that we may know whether in his discretion they are of a character to allow us but little hope, and whether he, like ourselves, despairs of our safety. His Lordship must know that our idea is to open negotiations for some arrangement, rather than allow matters to come to such a point that it would be difficult to remedy them.

And as we intend to devolve the charge of this matter entirely upon him, after having made known to his Lordship our desire, which cannot be more earnest, you will leave him to negotiate as he deems proper. You will return from there so soon as you are well informed as to what his Lordship thinks of the plan of the war, of the conduct of the Lansquenets, of the demonstrations of the Duke of Ferrara, of the movement of the Spaniards of Milan and Pavia, and what is generally thought of them; of the hopes that can be based upon the Marquis of Saluzzo and the Venetian troops; and finally of all this tangled mass, both on the part of the confederates and our own, as well as the enemy’s; leaving the commission to negotiate to Messer Francesco, assuring him that such is our intention and desire, and that we thus give him all power to treat, governing himself, however, according to circumstances.

Niccolo Machiavelli

2 December, 1526

Modena

LETTER I.

Magnificent and Illustrious Signori, etc. —

I arrived here to-day at an early hour, and immediately called on his Lordship the Lieutenant, and presented your Lordships’ letters, and explained to him in detail the reasons of my  coming. His Lordship said to me: “For the satisfaction of your Signori I will tell you first where our troops are, as well as those of the enemy; after that, I will tell you what is to be feared on the part of the enemy, and to be hoped for on the part of friends; and, lastly, what I think ought to be done in case we have to negotiate. The Lansquenets were yesterday at Quistello, a place in the Mantuan territory this side of the Lecchia; they have crossed the river to-day, and have taken the road towards Rizuolo and Gonzaga, which would indicate that they are taking the road towards Milan to join the Spaniards. These Germans number some fifteen or sixteen thousand, according to what we hear from various quarters, although one of my own men has written from Mantua that they do not number more than ten thousand. The Spaniards of Milan are still in that city, but begin to give indications of their intention to leave, having agreed with the Milanese to accept thirty thousand florins and depart; which accords with the route which the Lansquenets are taking. The Duke of Urbino finds himself, with all the troops he had brought with him, in the Mantuan territory, being quartered with the Germans, and shows no sign of moving from there, although I have several times solicited him to leave. True, he sends one of his captains to Piacenza with one thousand infantry, who will be there to-morrow. The Marquis of Saluzzo is at Vaure, a little place in the Bergamasque territory, fourteen miles from Milan and sixteen from Bergamo; he has all his troops with him, more than three hundred Venetian men-at-arms, and about one thousand infantry. The infantry of the Signor Giovanni, about three thousand in number, will be posted at Parma to-morrow. Besides these there are some four thousand troops there. So that, taking them all together, the League has over twenty thousand men in this province.

“If the Pope does not let them suffer for want of money, and they can all be brought together, we may perhaps continue to be safe; but if they lack the subsidies of his Holiness, the others will become lukewarm, and we shall have much to fear. Beyond doubt, if all these troops are kept together and are well paid, the enemy, whether they remain quiet or advance, will not be able to achieve any great results, without which, from lack of money, they will not be able to maintain themselves.  For, remaining thus separated, and not agreeing amongst themselves nor having confidence in each other, little good can be expected from them. Since the enemy has shown signs of wishing to unite, he will in my opinion give us some days of quiet to think of peace or war; but when once he has united all his forces it is not reasonable to expect that he will lose any time, but will attack either the Venetian possessions, or those of the Church, or he will move into Tuscany. In the first two cases, you will have time to think of your affairs. In the third, I cannot for certain promise you other assistance than the six or seven thousand troops which the Church has here; because, with my knowledge of the Venetian character, you cannot count upon them for anything under similar circumstances. As to the French, I cannot say whether they will rather follow the advice of the Venetians, or that which will remind them of your necessities, and I will therefore express no opinion on the subject, but shall abide events. Therefore write to your Signori all I have told you, and assure them that I shall not fail to make every effort to unite our troops, and to solicit Venice and Rome not to abandon us, but to do what I have said to you above.”

Respecting the negotiating of a peace here, the lieutenant said to me: “It seems a useless thing to me, and of no advantage; for any attempt to corrupt the Germans, or to make terms with them, would not succeed, as they and the Spaniards form the same corps. Peace negotiations should therefore be carried on with those who are authorized thereto by the Emperor, and I do not believe that the Constable de Bourbon, or any other of the commanders on this side, is so authorized. But I believe the Viceroy and Don Hugo, who are on your side, have the authority; for we hear that the Viceroy with a portion of the fleet has landed at San Stefano, a port belonging to the republic of Sienna. Peace negotiations can therefore be initiated much better at Florence; and I believe the Pope has already moved in the matter, which is likely to have a good effect. In short, we see that these movements on this side will give us time to think of remedies, either by peace or by other means, and it will be well for you to make this known to your Signori.”

This is the substance of what I have been able to learn from  the Lord Lieutenant, and I deem it proper to advise you of it by these presents, so that your Lordships may understand the whole matter. I shall remain here a couple of days longer, to see whether anything special occurs, so that I may return more fully informed about the state of things here.

I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

P. S. — Your Lordships will have heard of the death of the Signor Giovanni, whose loss is regretted by everybody.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Modena,

2 December, 1526

Niccolo Machiavelli

3 December, 1526

Modena

LETTER II.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

In my letter of yesterday I reported at length what I had learned from the Lieutenant respecting affairs here, and have nothing of importance to add, but shall repeat the same very briefly, viz. — If the enemy comes in your direction, you will be able to avail yourselves of the troops which the Church has here; these number about seven thousand infantry. But you must not count even upon all these, as a portion of them will have to be left here. Perhaps you may be able to make use of the French troops, but the Lieutenant has serious doubts upon that point. As to the Venetians, it seems pretty certain that they will want to remain at home. With regard to the commanders whom you can employ presently or with their troops, your Lordships must know that there are here but three of any importance upon whom you can rely with any degree of confidence. These are the Count Guido, Pagolo Luzzasco, commander of the Mantuan troops, and Guido Vaina; of these three your Lordships can have the one that suits you best. We have news to-day from several quarters that the Lansquenets are stationed between Guastalla and Berselli, so that they can move either upon Piacenza or Parma; and although we  have no official information about this, yet it comes to us from so many quarters that we believe it.

Of the Spaniards of Milan we hear nothing further than what I wrote yesterday. The Duke of Ferrara does not stir yet; still there are two indications from which we may judge that the country is likely to be troubled. These are, first, that some months ago a truce was concluded between the inhabitants of Ferrara and those of Carpi, to the effect that the territories of each should reciprocally be respected; this truce has just expired, and the people of Carpi have declined to renew it. The other indication is, that the Duke used to keep the relays for the post that ran from Ferrara to Reggio in this place. He has now removed them, and placed them on the roads that run entirely on his own territory.

The Lieutenant, seeing that the war was being removed from here and was drawing towards Parma and Piacenza, mounted to-day at the twenty-third hour, and rode, accompanied by the Count Guido and Guido Vaina, towards Parma. I shall therefore leave here to-morrow morning, and return to Florence by short journeys, so as not to fatigue myself unnecessarily, having nothing to communicate to your Lordships beyond what I have already written. For as to peace or any other agreement that would have to be negotiated here, the Lieutenant thinks it an idle undertaking, and calculated to do harm without profiting any one. I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Modena,

3 December, 1526

SECOND MISSION TO FRANCESCO GUICCIARDINI.

INSTRUCTIONS TO NICCOLO MACHIAVELLI, RESOLVED BY THE EIGHT OF PRACTICE, 3 FEBRUARY, 1527.

Niccolo, —

You will proceed in all haste and by the most secure route to Messer Francesco Guicciardini, and make known to him that the letter of the 31st ultimo written to the most reverend Legate had caused us great anxiety in announcing that the enemy are massing themselves together, and that the Spaniards, as well as the Lansquenets and the Italians, are already on the road hither, first to Tuscany and then to Rome. And as we always founded the hope of our defence upon the troops of the League, we wish to know promptly from his Magnificence whether that assistance will be of a kind that will be able to give us security. We think this should be the case if the troops of the League could be here some days before the enemy, and move as soon as possible to Bologna, as from there they could strike in every direction wherever the enemy attempts an attack.

You will make Messer Francesco understand clearly that this is our desire, and that we consider our security to depend upon it; for if the troops of the League come here after the enemy, then we see infinite dangers, which Messer Francesco in his wisdom will perceive even better than we can. But by coming here before the enemy, we could even strike a blow with our own troops and then unite them with those of the League, which would render these much more secure for themselves as well as for us. You will also urge upon him to exhort the most illustrious Duke of Urbino, the Marquis of Saluzzo, and all the other confederate commanders, promptly and effectually  to march before the enemy. And if his Magnificence sees any difficulties in persuading these commanders to that effect, then let him give us the result of his judgment, so that we may know on whom we may hereafter depend. Anyhow, we are convinced that with the energy and support of his Most Christian Majesty and the Venetians, as well as the good will of their commanders, we should lack nothing at a time when reason itself is with us; for our cause is common with the Most Christian King and the Venetians; and although we may perchance be the first to suffer, yet they are sure to suffer equally afterwards.

Niccolo Machiavelli

7 February, 1527

LETTER I.

Magnificent and Illustrious Signori, etc. —

Owing to the obstructions on the roads by the enemy I did not arrive here until this morning. I had a long interview with the Lord Lieutenant, and found that his Lordship had of his own suggestion arranged with the commanders, and especially with the Duke of Urbino, to march in all haste with the whole army into Tuscany, in case the enemy should move in that direction. He assured me that the Duke of Urbino was most warmly in favor of it, only differing as to the manner and order of doing it; for his Lordship wanted the Marquis of Saluzzo to be the first to enter Tuscany with the advance-guard, whilst the Lieutenant wanted the Duke himself to take the lead, deeming that order to offer the greatest security. And therefore he wanted me to speak to the Duke this evening, which I did in his presence, employing the best arguments I knew how to convince him of the necessity of prompt and vigorous assistance in case the enemy should move upon Florence. I referred to the great confidence which that city had in his valor and in his affection for her; and did not fail to tell all I knew of myself, and what the Lord Lieutenant had suggested to me. But the Duke remained firm in his purpose; he agreed, however, to meet me to-morrow, when we are to examine this subject pen in hand in all its bearings, and thinking of what ought to be done in connection with every movement of the enemy. I shall not, therefore, enter into any further  particulars, but shall reserve myself for what may be concluded upon to-morrow, of which your Lordships shall have the most detailed account.

No news has been received to-day from Piacenza, and I have therefore nothing further to say, except that the enemy continue to occupy the same places. We do not hear that they do anything beyond gathering provisions; and from the points to which they direct them, we surmise that they are destined for Tuscany rather than elsewhere. The Lieutenant makes every effort to ascertain the enemy’s movements, and your Lordships shall be most fully informed of whatever he may find out. Quæ bene valeant.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli.

7 February, 1527

Niccolo Machiavelli

9 February, 1527

Parma

LETTER II.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I wrote to your Lordships yesterday evening all that had occurred here. To-day we have the news that a portion of the Lansquenets have quitted Pontenuovo, and have gone to join the Spaniards. We do not altogether understand the object of this movement; some say that they are gone to attack Lodi, others say Cremona. We also hear from the Count Guido, who is at Piacenza, that yesterday some of the enemy’s horse came almost to the walls of the city. The Count sent Paolo Luzzano and the Count Claudio Rangoni after them, who dashed upon them so furiously that they took the captains Zuccaro, Scalengo, and Grugno, three officers of considerable importance, and came very near taking the Prince of Orange also. They captured, moreover, some eighty cavaliers and one hundred infantry. And thus our people become every day more bold in assailing the enemy, who on their part seem every day to become more discouraged. It is impossible, however, that they should remain thus any length of time, and that their ill humor should not cause them to make an attack somewhere. If it be on this side, as is now generally believed, we shall be relieved of our suspicions. But if they come in the direction of  Florence, then we shall observe the order which I communicated to your Lordships yesterday evening, and which plan will most probably be in some respects improved.

We believe that the Count Guido will find out from his prisoners some of their plans, and the reason of their tardiness, and the variety of their movements. He will best be able to learn it from Scalengo, because he is said to be a special favorite of the Viceroy, and knows many of his secrets. If the said Count will get such information from him, we shall have some certainty of the state of their affairs; and if I learn anything about it, it shall be immediately communicated to your Lordships, to whom I recommend myself. Quæ bene valeant.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Parma,

9 February, 1527

Niccolo Machiavelli

11 February, 1527

Parma

LETTER III.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I did not write to your Lordships yesterday, having nothing of moment to communicate, and hoping to be able to give you something positive to-day, persuaded that the Count Guido would obtain some special information from those prisoners; but as he has not written, I suppose that he did not succeed. We hear various accounts of the enemy’s movements. I wrote you that the Lansquenets who were at Milan had left the town to unite with those outside; to-day we hear that they have not yet gone out, but that they are to go. We are informed that they have secretly made provision of scaling-ladders and spades. Some say that they want to make a coup, others that they intend to prepare for taking the place by sapping it, as they cannot assail it with artillery, as the Duke did at Cremona. This morning we have a report that ten banners of the Spaniards that were this side of the Po have recrossed the river without our knowing the reason why. This evening we learn that the enemy have furnished Pizzighettone with provisions, and employed those Spaniards as an escort. And thus we hear at every moment different accounts of their movements, which are interpreted by some that they intend  coming into Tuscany, whilst others think that they will attempt some enterprise on this side; and those who in matters of this kind have the best judgment know least what to conclude. Nevertheless everybody believes this, that if the enemy could seize one of these strong places they would begin with that, for they have great need of them; and if they do not begin with that, it is because they do not believe that they would succeed. But it seems a hard thing to believe that, if they could for example take Piacenza, they would imagine that they could take Tuscany, where it is so difficult to enter, remain, and combat. God knows what they ought now to do; perhaps they do not know it themselves, for if they did they would surely have effected it, so much time having passed during which they could have formed a union of their forces. It is believed even that they are but little to be feared, if they are not aided by our own disorders; and all who have any experience in war judge that we ought to be victorious, unless either evil counsels or the lack of money cause our defeat. For our forces are so great that they should suffice to sustain the war; and we ought to be able to provide against the other two defects, the first by taking good counsel, and the other that his Holiness the Pope does not abandon us.

I have not yet left here because I wished to see which way this water is going to run; so that, if it is going to take its course towards Florence, I may return decided upon all points as to the order and character of the remedies. I shall therefore remain here some three or four days yet, and after that, with your Lordships’ gracious permission, I shall return under any circumstances. I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Parma,

11 February, 1527

Niccolo Machiavelli

12 February, 1527

Parma

LETTER IV.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

Since writing to your Lordships yesterday, some matters of very little importance have occurred. I deem it proper, however, to report them to you, so that your Lordships may know  all that we know here. The French commanders and the Duke of Urbino resolved last night to make a cavalry raid upon the enemy, just to show him that they were still alive, and partly for the purpose of reconnoitring the country. Accordingly they started last night, and when the French arrived about daylight at Carpineto, they found an outpost of light cavalry there under command of Camillo della Staffa. They captured some sixty of his horses, and then charged upon the enemy, who were obliged to remain all day under arms. Three days ago the enemy had taken Busse, a small place some twenty miles from here; the castle of the place, however, still held for the Church. The Duke sent some infantry there at night, who made their way in through the castle, and made prisoner one Folco, a Mantuan; his company of about two hundred men were captured and put to the sword, and the place was recovered.

Monseigneur de Bourbon came yesterday to the camp of the Germans, to consult, as is supposed, respecting further operations. We have not heard yet of his having left there again, nor is it known what has been decided upon. True, the Count Guido writes, that the Marchese del Guasto sent him word to rest assured that the enemy would not move upon Piacenza, so that we are as undecided what to do, as on the first day. It seems impossible to believe that the enemy will not take some action within three or four days, and we shall govern ourselves according to their movements. And if the Duke of Urbino is disposed to do his duty, which he certainly will if it be your Lordships’ pleasure, then it is believed that the enemy will find little profit in advancing. I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Parma,

12 February, 1527

Niccolo Machiavelli

14 February, 1527

Parma

LETTER V.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I did not write to your Lordships yesterday, as I had nothing of interest to say, nor is there anything new to-day; nevertheless, to continue my habit whilst here, I deem it proper to write  you a few lines and say that the imperial army has as yet made no movement; although the Count Guido writes in a letter received this morning that the said army was to start this morning for the purpose of making an advance. It is supposed that this news is not true, for if it were we ought to know something of it by this time, it being two o’clock of the night. But if the army has not started yet, it is believed that it cannot remain still much longer, and we hear from all sides that it is to break camp shortly and move forward. In Lombardy they do not believe it possible that the enemy can take any of the places which they intend to guard, for the people of the country seem resolved to defend themselves. They have with great rapidity made all the repairs and preparations; and I believe they will resist with great obstinacy, seeing the example of Milan and the other cities, which, notwithstanding that they were given to the enemy and received by him in good faith, were nevertheless first subjected to the payment of heavy contributions, and then actually sacked. This has so filled people’s minds with fear, that they will rather die than submit to similar inflictions. If the enemy comes into Tuscany, they will find the inhabitants similarly disposed, and will meet not only with the same, but even greater difficulties; for that country is not able to support the war the same as this, and the least impediment that holds them at bay may become the cause of their dispersion. This has been affirmed by certain Spaniards who were taken prisoners at Lodi by Messer Lodovico; they told him that their army was powerful and of such character that it would be an evil counsel to give to the army of the League to engage them in battle. But that there existed such a state of confusion amongst their commanders, that they did not know what to attempt with any hope of success; and that they were so poor that, if our troops were to delay action for any length of time, it would be impossible for their army to be successful in any attempt whatsoever. We shall therefore continue to watch them, and shall advise your Lordships from day to day of the enemy’s movements, and of the course which we shall adopt to avoid an engagement and to follow them. The best part that we can play in this game is to govern ourselves so that this Duke will have an inducement gladly to make some effort, taking good counsel and executing it still better; otherwise we might gain nothing but dishonor and loss. I know that his Lordship the Lieutenant has written  about this to Rome and here; but I did not wish to omit letting you know; and as I have told you in my previous letter, so soon as I shall see the enemy move, and it is known what road he will take, I shall return with the plans and dispositions that are regarded here as the best for the defence of our country. I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Parma,

14 February, 1527

Niccolo Machiavelli

16 February, 1527

Parma

LETTER VI.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I reported yesterday to your Lordships all that had taken place, and write now to inform you that the Count Cajazzo came to-day in person to Borgo a San Donnino with the troops under his command. The other part of the enemy’s forces has not yet moved, but it is supposed that they will start to-morrow or next day; and it is said that they will positively not stop at Piacenza or Parma, but that they purpose laying siege to Modena, or to move in the direction of Bologna and throw themselves from there upon Tuscany or Romagna. On our part we shall follow the enemy’s movements, according to the plans which I communicated to your Lordships a few days since; that is to say, so that a considerable part of our forces will be in Romagna or Tuscany before the enemy, and the rest will follow him. Amongst the latter will be the Duke of Urbino, whom it has been impossible to persuade, up to the present, to form a part of the advance-guard. But what is still more unpleasant is, that he left here to-day for Casal Maggiore sick with fever and gout, which has caused us great regret. For, as I have written to your Lordships in a former letter, the general opinion is that we cannot possibly fail in this undertaking, except from want of good counsels or lack of money. We have no one who can give better advice than the Duke of Urbino, and your Lordships may imagine how much the want of it is regretted by those who wish matters to result fortunately for the League. But what is worse even is the fact that the Duke has left more indisposed in mind than in body. As to the body, we can only address ourselves to the Almighty to cure him; but as to the mind, we  must look to your Lordships. At any rate, that is the opinion of every one here; and if those who are at Florence were here, they would assuredly think the same, and would not believe that the victories gained in Rome would suffice to enable us to win in Lombardy.

Your Lordships shall be promptly advised of whatever occurs, and of what is done by the enemy as well as by us, and of what ought to be done by your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Parma,

16 February, 1527

P. S. — The Lord Lieutenant has directed me to write to you that the pay of the troops falls due the 23d instant, and begs you will take the necessary steps to enable us to make this payment. For should there be any default in this, it would end all uncertainty, as everything would be hopelessly lost. He has therefore urged me to remind your Lordships of it, quæ bene valeant.

Niccolo Machiavelli

18 February, 1527

Parma

LETTER VII.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I have written to your Lordships so often and so differently about this Imperial army, that I am really ashamed to write you any more; nevertheless, as it is necessary that I should write, I may as well inform you of all the rumors I hear, and afterwards compare them with the events. I wrote yesterday that the enemy was hourly expected to move. To-day, being the 18th, we do not yet hear of their having made the slightest attempt. True, there are letters to-day from the Count Guido of the 16th, saying that on that day the Imperialists held a review, and that twenty thousand florins had been sent to the Lansquenets, so as to give them two florins per man, and that on Monday or Tuesday, that is to-morrow or the next day, they were actually to move; but he does not say in what direction. He declares, however, that he is prepared to follow them wherever it may be necessary, and that he would be at Modena before them if they should attempt to take that route, and that at the first halt which they made it would be seen  what road they intended to take, whether to Bologna or towards Pontremoli. He says, furthermore, that your Lordships shall be fully advised both as to the route and as to the measures to be taken for the defence of Tuscany in the event of the enemy’s moving in that direction. As to uniting all the forces of the League in one camp, and attempting a battle with the enemy, that was not deemed feasible, nor was much to be hoped from it.

The Count Cajazzo, as I have already written to your Lordships, is at the Borgo a San Donnino, with one thousand infantry and one hundred light-horse. The Lord Lieutenant has had some negotiations with him to induce the Count to enter the service of the Pope; the matter was concluded yesterday, so that to-morrow these troops, infantry as well as cavalry, will come over to our side, which has already added and will add still more to our credit, and diminish that of the enemy. For as everybody looks upon the Count as very prudent, they conclude that, if he had considered the affairs of the Imperialists in good condition, he would not have taken such a step.

I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Parma,

18 February, 1527

Niccolo Machiavelli

4 March, 1527

Bologna

LETTER VIII.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

If your Lordships had not been kept daily informed of every occurrence here by the Lord Lieutenant in his letters to the most reverend Legate, you might wonder at not having had letters from me for several days, and might reasonably accuse me of neglect. But I deemed it superfluous to tell you the same things that the Lord Lieutenant has written and told you. Nor have I returned yet, although the enemy has moved forward, because the Lieutenant thought that before I left he would wish to see for certain what the enemy really intended doing. And truly, before they started, and even afterwards, we were not without considerable apprehensions that they would move upon Tuscany; for we had understood that they had been so urged by the Duke of Ferrara, and that in fact it had been their own  plan, as they believed that country to be more easily pillaged than any other, its inhabitants being unaccustomed to the sight of an enemy’s face. This opinion prevailed until yesterday, although it was supposed that, if they wished to enter Tuscany, they ought to have taken either the road by way of Pontremoli or by way of Garfagnana, as both these routes lead to the Lucchese territory, where they might have hoped to find provisions for some days; or they might either have had them brought here from a country that was devoted to them, or they might have been supplied from Ferrara; and once past, they might have made the attempt upon Tuscany, and if successful they could have followed up their victory, and failing they might have passed on to the Siennese territory.

But since they have gone from Modena towards Bologna, no reasonable man can suppose that they will come to Tuscany, because there are but four roads leading to it, namely, the Sasso, the Diritti, the Val di Lamona, and to pass the Alps of Crespino, or by Val di Montone, in which case they would have to pass the Alps of San Benedetto. Neither one of these roads is secure, for besides the ordinary difficulties of passing the mountains, all these passes lead into the Mugello, where they would die of hunger in two days, unless they should take either Pistoja or Prato; and as they cannot hope to do that, they cannot attempt to come by these passes. There remains one other route by which they could penetrate into Tuscany, and that is to enter into the Marecchia above Cesena, and come to the Borgo San Sepolcro. This road is easy, but it would be difficult for these troops to get to Cesena, as all the places in Romagna are fortified, and the country bare of provisions. Nevertheless, if the enemy take either of these routes, all measures are taken for our troops to arrive in Tuscany before them, in accordance with the plans which the Lord Lieutenant has communicated to the most reverend Legate; and they will, moreover, have the Duke of Urbino at their heels. We have news to-day that he is entirely well again, and that he has passed the Po with all the Venetian troops. If then it be true that the enemy has to encounter such difficulties in advancing, it follows that necessity will oblige them to attempt some enterprise nearer at hand, and which they could carry out at their ease, and which, if successful, would open the way for them to succeed in all the others.

Yesterday the impression prevailed that they would make an  attempt upon Ravenna, and therefore we sent a detachment of six hundred troops there this morning. To-day it is feared their attack will be upon Bologna; the fact that the fortifications of Ravenna are in a bad state of repairs is calculated to decide them in favor of that place; whilst the reason for attempting Bologna would be its population, which is believed not to be all agreed to sustain a siege. We shall soon see which of the two it will be; and if the enemy comes here, the most important place for this game will be around the walls of this place. But I believe we may remain here quite safely, for there will be ten thousand troops here, the place is well fortified and supplied with all necessaries, and the inhabitants are united and well disposed to defend themselves.

I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Bologna,

4 March, 1527

P. S. — I wrote the above to your Lordships yesterday, but the letter was left behind, owing to the carelessness of the person who makes up the packages. The enemy has made no movement to-day, nor have they come to Castel San Giovanni as was expected; nevertheless we are to-day of a somewhat different opinion from yesterday. For if we were yesterday sure that the enemy would not come into Tuscany, but would attack this city, to-day we are quite in doubt, owing to the information we have that after all their real design is to enter Tuscany; and that they feigned first that they were coming here to Bologna, so that, having induced you to send all your forces here, and having thus, as it were, disarmed you, they might arrive before us and crush you at a single blow. The Lord Lieutenant therefore writes you not to send any troops into Romagna, and has ordered that the troops of the Signor Giovanni, if they are in a convenient place, shall come at once in this direction. Or perhaps the Signor Giovanni may go in person to Loglano, accompanied by a strong division of infantry, so that he may be able to return here in case the enemy should attack this city, or be in advance of them if they should attempt to move upon Florence. I said that perhaps this course might be taken, because the reasons which I alleged in my letter of yesterday for not believing that the  enemy would not come into Tuscany unless he had first taken Bologna are so powerful in their nature that, notwithstanding the information received since, we remain still of the same opinion. But that which troubles our spirits is that a certain Betto, one of our own people, has related to us that, having been at the enemy’s camp to-day, the Constable de Bourbon had told him to make known to the people of Bologna that, if they would give him free passage and provisions, and become good Imperialists, he would ask nothing else of them, and would treat them as friends; but if they would not do this, they might expect to see the army before their walls. This proposition seems to us most important, for if the enemy really takes such a course, the population of the city being very great, and seeing that they can escape such great dangers on such easy terms, it is to be feared that they would eagerly accept them. It is necessary, therefore to retain a sufficient force here to keep the population firm in their good will towards us, and to be able to show them the deceit which it is intended to practise upon them, and the ease with which they can defend themselves against it.

But to do this, troops must not be sent to Loglano, unless Bologna is first relieved; and thus what might be of advantage to Florence would injure us here, and what would benefit us here might do harm to Florence. Anyhow it is supposed that all can be provided for; because, by not sending your troops into Romagna, you will find yourselves with 5,000 men, besides the 3,000 of the Signor Giovanni, which will be sent to you under any circumstances. And as for the rest of the army, excepting the troops that are with the Duke of Urbino, they will remain here to watch the enemy, who must come either by the Sasso road or by the Diritta. And we shall be prepared to come by whatever road they do not take, and shall anyhow be at Florence before them; for we shall come without artillery, whilst they must bring theirs along with them. These are the plans that have been discussed to-day; they will adopt that which is deemed the best, of which his Lordship the Lieutenant will write most fully and distinctly to the most reverend Legate.

Iterum valete!

Bologna,

5 March, 1527

Niccolo Machiavelli

12 March, 1527

Bologna

LETTER IX.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

If I had not received your Lordships’ letter of the 10th instant, I might have believed either that the letters which I have written had failed to reach you, or that you had regarded them as altogether superfluous, as in truth they have been. And if, on the other hand, I have not returned, it is because the Lord Lieutenant thought it best that I should remain until the Imperialists had taken a route that would prove conclusively that they were not moving upon Tuscany. Or if they did take that route, I might charge myself with some of the measures that would have to be taken, according to the instructions which I received from your Lordships before my departure from Florence; and whilst here I have attended to some of the business confided to me by his Lordship. These are the reasons why I have not written to you more frequently, and which have prevented my return. Now, however, more for the purpose of obeying your Lordships than because it is necessary, I beg to inform you that the Imperialists are at San Giovanni, some ten miles from here, where they have been for several days, but have made no movement of any kind; and although they were tempted several times by our troops, and provoked to skirmish, yet they never budged. Their generals have attempted to negotiate with Ferrara, and we hear this morning from very reliable sources that they have actually concluded an arrangement, according to which the Duke is to furnish them 6,000 sacks of bread and flour, 200 hundred horses for their artillery, 20,000 pounds of coarse and 5,000 pounds of fine powder; and when all these things have been supplied, they are to come into Tuscany by the shortest route.

As to the army of the League there are here 10,000 infantry, 600 are at Ravenna, 4,000 at Pianora, and nearly all the corps of the Signor Giovanni; and the Count Guido has 3,000 in Modena. The greater part of the Venetian troops are with the Signor Malatesta Baglioni between Reggio and Parma; the Duke of Urbino with the remainder is on the other side of the Po, unless he has passed it within the last two days. The army of the League has placed itself in these different positions, so that the enemy shall not carry out any plan they may attempt.  And it is supposed that, by holding these positions, it will be able to be in Romagna or in Tuscany before the enemy, and defend either Bologna or Modena in case they should attempt to attack either. And although until now opinions have varied much as to the enemy’s intentions, yet the latest reports which I have given you above have caused great apprehensions as to Tuscany; for the large quantity of provisions that are being collected, according to the accounts from various sources, confirm these apprehensions. On the other hand, we see no movement amongst the people subject to Ferrara, which the enemy would have to traverse to go into Romagna; for common sense would at least have made them clear the road.

The Marchese del Guasto, who is sick, sent to-day to ask for a safe-conduct to enable him to go with all his family into the kingdom of Naples by way of Romagna. It does not seem reasonable that he should want to pass through a country where after his passage they would raise the cry that his troops were about to attack the country. On the other hand, the shortest road is the one of Sasso, but it is regarded by those who know the country well to be the most difficult, and the Signor Federigo da Bozzolo expresses the same opinion of it in a letter written by him to the Lord Lieutenant; and I believe that they know very well, that both on this side and towards Florence the road has been cut and fortified, so as to render it still more difficult. To come by the Alps of Crespino or San Benedetto seems to us out of all reason, so that we doubt much whether they would not have to turn back and descend into the Lucchese territory by the Garfagnana, which amongst all these difficult routes is the easiest; and once having passed it, they would find inhabitants who would furnish them supplies, but would not combat them.

The road by the Marecchia, and passing the Borgo a San Sepolcro, respecting which it seems there are some fears, is easier than that of the Garfagnana, but is much less convenient than what is believed here; and for that reason it would be easier for them to fall back three days’ march, so as to enter the Lucchese territory promptly, where they would be received with open arms, instead of having to march six or eight days through the enemy’s territory, where they would be obliged to fight their way through from the beginning.

There is another route which has come into notice within the past few days, respecting which, however, there are great doubts; it begins below Bologna four miles in the direction of Imola; it crosses the Iddice and brings up at Cavrenno and at Pietramala, and runs from there along the Stale to Barberino. This was the route which the Duke Valentino took when he attacked Florence in 1501, and is considered much less wild than that of the Sasso. There is a messenger here sent by the inhabitants of Firenzuola to learn what measures are to be taken in case our troops should move in that direction; the Lord Lieutenant has conferred with this person about that road, and has learned the same thing from him. True, he says that about four miles from Stale there is a place called Covigliano, where there is a bad pass that can be made even worse; and about a mile from there is another pass called Castro, which is difficult by nature, but can be made still more so; and the Lord Lieutenant has sent this person back to Firenzuola to have this done; and your Lordships can have this road reconnoitred and have similar work done.

It is believed that the enemy will require some days before he can get his provisions together, and we are therefore on the watch; and there is no lack of vigilance on the part of the most illustrious Legate and the Lord Lieutenant to watch the enemy’s movements, and in any event to forestall him. This is all I have to write to your Lordships, to whom I recommend myself most humbly.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Bologna,

12 March, 1527

Niccolo Machiavelli

18 March, 1527

Bologna

LETTER X.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I wrote yesterday at length to your Lordships, and informed you that the bad weather had prevented the enemy from breaking up. This storm commenced on Saturday night, and up to now, the twenty-fourth hour, it has rained and snowed incessantly, so that the snow lies three spans deep in every part of the city, and it still continues to snow. Thus the obstacle which we could not have opposed to the enemy’s movements has been sent by the Almighty.

We have not been able to obtain any news of the enemy, for our trumpeter could not cross the river, nor could theirs come to our side, but we rather think they are faring badly; and if the Almighty had really wished to do us a service, he would have delayed this storm until after the enemy had passed the Sasso, and had got fairly into the mountains. Perhaps this weather would have overtaken them there if they had started at the time they intended; but the mutinous movements of their infantry, which at the time seemed so dangerous, caused them to delay their starting, and thus saved them from the consequences of this storm. Nevertheless, we believe that they are badly off, for they are on low ground, which was formerly boggy, and has been made habitable by cultivation and industry. We have endeavored to increase their troubles by breaking the dikes of the Samoggia, and turning the water upon them, and yesterday we sent off men for that purpose; but they had scarcely gone two or three miles, when they could get no farther, and returned here reporting that the whole country was under water. We have nevertheless attempted it again, and have written to the men at Castelfranco, and have also sent men by other routes with great promises of reward; we shall see what the result will be. We have no further news of the illness of George Frondsberg, owing to the above causes; but if fortune should change and favor us, he would die anyhow, and that would be the real beginning of our salvation and the enemy’s ruin.

I would furthermore say to your Lordships, that if this trouble had come upon the enemy before he laid in his large store of provisions, he would assuredly have been ruined. But the great amount of supplies which they have gathered for their movement upon Tuscany will save them. Had they been obliged to procure their provisions from day to day, it would not have been possible for them to live. And if the Duke of Ferrara could get back a little brains into his skull, and this weather were to continue a couple of days longer, he might terminate this war in sitting down or in sleeping; every effort should therefore be made to induce him to do so.

I wrote you yesterday evening that, if you wished to profit by this trouble and inconvenience of the enemy, it would be necessary to make the most of the time which fortune gives us; for if fair weather should return, we should find ourselves  where we were before, and the delay which the enemy experienced in going to Tuscany would have been injurious to us rather than advantageous. And if it be desired that we should be better prepared, then the Venetians ought to pay their troops and make their whole army join ours; otherwise, things will go badly. For it is the general opinion that if the Imperialists pass into Tuscany, even if they do not ravage the country, but merely pass through into the Siennese territory, we could never hope to be successful in this war unless we should be victorious in a battle, which it would be just as easy for us to lose. The Lord-Lieutenant received letters this morning from the Pope’s Nuncio and ambassador at Venice, which could not possibly be more full of good promises or greater hopes; for they say amongst other things that the Duke affirms that the success of our enterprise is as good as assured, and that he will under any circumstances destroy the enemy’s army. But the Lord Lieutenant, seeing how much these letters differ from the facts, has written them a letter of two sheets, in which he reviews all their former errors, points out how greatly their actions have differed from the words spoken at Venice, and shows them exactly what they ought to do, if they intend to speak the truth with regard to their plans as well as with regard to the Duke’s hopes of victory. It is impossible to say what the result of this letter will be; still we shall have the satisfaction of having brought the matter to their notice, and it will serve to show them that we shall not be taken in by their outcries, and that fair words alone do not satisfy us.

Your Lordships must not cease to importune them, as I wrote you yesterday; and to give them no rest until their troops are actually paid and have joined ours, or until they are forced to declare that they do not mean to do it. Valete!

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Bologna,

18 March, 1527

Niccolo Machiavelli

23 March, 1527

Bologna

LETTER XI.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

Since we have the news of the conclusion of the truce, or rather of the promise, I have not written to your Lordships,  as I wanted first to see how it was received here. The Fieramosca wrote yesterday from the camp that, owing to the absence of the Marchese del Guasto from here, it was impossible to conclude anything, but that he had found Monseigneur de Bourbon well disposed; and he urgently requested the money to be sent which, according to the promises, ought to have been paid here yesterday, the amount being forty thousand ducats. He has written again to-day, as your Lordships will see from the copy which the Lord Lieutenant sends to the most reverend Legate, and which, on the whole, shows that everything goes well; but he demands that the whole sum of sixty thousand francs be sent here, so that those who were not favorably disposed to the truce might not have a hook to hang their doubts upon. Therefore, O Magnificent Signori, if ever you have had the thought of saving your country and enabling her to escape the great and imminent dangers that threaten her, then make this last effort to raise this money, so that this truce may be concluded, and the present evils and dangers averted, so as to give us time, or, to say better, put off the ruin; and so that, if the truce cannot be carried into effect, we may at least have the wherewithal to carry on the war, or, to say still better, to sustain it. For in either one case or the other it would give us time; and if ever the proverb was true that “to have time is to have life,” it is in this case most decidedly so.

I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Bologna,

23 March, 1527

Niccolo Machiavelli

24 March, 1527

Bologna

LETTER XII.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I wrote yesterday to your Lordships, giving account of what had taken place here since the departure of the Fieramosca. We have no later news of him, notwithstanding that yesterday already two mounted messengers have been sent to inquire after him. The reason of his silence is supposed here to be because he has experienced some difficulty with those German  commanders, whom it is necessary to satisfy. He must have had a hard time of it, more so than if the Captain George Frondsberg had been present. But he has gone away to Ferrara so ill that, if he does not die soon, there will anyhow be nothing to hope or to fear of him in a little while. The continued duration of this state of things greatly displeases the Lord Lieutenant for many reasons; principally because it seems to him that the French and the Venetian troops may leave us at any moment, although he has made every effort to prevent it, and has said to the Marquis that he had no doubt but what he would always get away safely, and has promised to accompany him personally; although he showed no disposition to move without first knowing that the truce was actually resolved upon. At the same time there are letters from a Messer Rinaldo Calimberto, whom the Lieutenant keeps near the Duke of Urbino, stating that the Duke also says that he will not move his troops without first knowing the terms of the truce. They will adhere to this determination as long as they can, although they will not have to delay very long, for it is impossible that by to-morrow or next day they should not know all about it. It has been a good deal discussed here by many, whether the Imperialists will accept the truce. Some doubt it, seeing the delay in concluding it, and the more so as they are clearing the way, as though they intended to attack this city. They have made fresh requisitions for carts and pioneers; what troubles us most, however, is the fact that some three thousand Spaniards presented themselves yesterday before Castelfranco, and summoned the place by a trumpeter to surrender; being answered by gunshots, they withdrew, and then made a regular attack upon San Cesario; but seeing that they could not take it, they burned the suburbs and carried off all the cattle they could. All this looks more like war than peace, although some say that this is a common practice during the interval between war and a truce. But all this must be cleared up; and so soon as it is, your Lordships shall be informed of all particulars.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Bologna,

24 March, 1527, third hour of night

Niccolo Machiavelli

27 March, 1527

Bologna

LETTER XIII.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I have not written to your Lordships for two days, having been at Pianoro to review the troops. I returned here to-day, and found matters in the same condition in which I had left them; for there is as yet nothing definite from the Fieramosca, although the Lord Lieutenant has written him every day, and has with that prudence which is necessary under such circumstances urged him to bring matters to some definite conclusion. The weather has been and continues bad, so that if the Spaniards have not scoured the country during the past two days it has been solely on that account. Nevertheless, we hear that war is resolved upon; for we learn from those sources whence we have been in the habit of receiving news, that the enemy have changed their intention of coming into Tuscany by the Sasso, or by any other route equally convenient, because they are frightened by the bad roads and the weather; and that they intend coming by way of Romagna, and entering Tuscany by the Marecchia. They purpose occupying some one of the most important towns on that road, and to be able to do so the more securely, they want to arrive there before the troops of the Church in the following manner. They will make their first halt at Ponte a Reno, and in that way they hope to keep us quiet and in doubt, as they can take different routes from there and attempt different attacks. After that they will divide their forces, one portion remaining here and feigning an attack on this city, and the other part will turn below Bologna, placing itself half-way between Bologna and Imola. They believe that they can carry this plan out in security, as they believe that either division of their forces is stronger than we are all together, and that they can moreover unite their entire forces with perfect safety should it be necessary. And thus they count on being ahead of our troops, and finding the towns unprepared; and after having taken one, they think the others will have to act according to their will.

Our situation seems to me the same that it has been ever since we have been here; that is, one day we hear that one thing has been resolved upon, and the next day we hear of another plan directly the reverse; and therefore the one is as  much to be believed as the one that has been told and written before; nor is there as yet any positive reason for apprehending that the truce will not be concluded. Still, it is necessary promptly to come to some conclusion either for or against it, for many reasons, and mainly to enable us here to inspire the Venetians with confidence, and settle the minds of the French troops, so that we may not find ourselves left alone to bear the burden of this war. For as the truce, if concluded, will be our safety, so, on the contrary, if it is deferred or not concluded will it be our ruin. Nor do I believe that there is any one who thinks differently. But when Heaven intends to conceal its designs, it leads men to that point that they cannot adopt any definite plan for their safety. I have nothing further to add, except to recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ feliciores sint. Valete!

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Bologna,

27 March, 1527

Niccolo Machiavelli

29 March, 1527

Bologna

LETTER XIV.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I wrote to your Lordships day before yesterday. Since then we have the following respecting the truce. Messer Giovanni del Vantaggio returned yesterday evening from the Spanish camp, where he had gone with the Fieramosca, and reports confusion and differences between the captains and the troops; the latter do not want the truce, whilst the captains, and especially the Captain-General, are in favor of it. Messer Giovanni adds, that he came away from the camp partly because he did not like to remain there, and partly for the purpose of reporting the condition of things there. This evening, after five o’clock, news came that the enemy had broken up and were marching to Ponte a Reno to effect the division there of which I gave notice to your Lordships in my last letter. They have not yet started this morning, but we are told that they will certainly do so to-morrow morning, and that they intend to retrace their steps so as to enter Tuscany by the Garfagnana, for the reasons which I have already written to your Lordships. Thus we are in the greatest uncertainty as to what we ought to do.  To-day at about noon a trumpeter came with a letter from Monseigneur de Bourbon to the most illustrious Legate, telling him how greatly he had desired peace, and the efforts he had made to obtain the assent of the troops to the truce, but that he had not been able to satisfy them; and telling him that he needed more money, but did not state the amount. He therefore begged his Lordship not to be surprised if he saw the enemy start in the morning, as he was not able to prevent it; and he suggests that it would be well to make everything known at Rome, so that the Viceroy and the Pope may satisfy the troops by new agreements, and that he will do the same. Everybody therefore, O Magnificent Signori, regards the truce as good as broken, and that nothing remains except to think of war, unless, indeed, the Almighty should come to our aid by inspiring these men to be more humble. For it seems that in the new negotiations that are being carried on, it is agreed to expend what money you have in the payment of these troops; and then, if we wish them to agree to a truce, you would need to have, besides this present payment to the troops, at least one hundred thousand florins disposable in your purse. And as this cannot be, it is folly to waste time in making a bargain which we could not carry out afterwards for want of money.

Let your Lordships therefore prepare for war, win back the Venetians, and make sure of them, so that their troops that have passed the Po will return to our assistance. And bear in mind that inasmuch as this truce, if concluded, would have been our salvation, so it may in not being concluded and keeping us in suspense prove our ruin. Valete!

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Bologna,

29 March, 1527

Niccolo Machiavelli

30 March, 1527

Bologna

LETTER XV.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

The enemy’s troops did not start, as in my letter of yesterday I reported they intended to do. I believe the cause is the heavy rain and snow that has continued falling all night. We do not know, therefore, whether they will move to-morrow or not, but we do know that they maintain themselves here with the greatest  difficulty, so that it seems almost impossible for them to remain here; and what ought to alarm them most is that they cannot better themselves by a change of encampment. If these difficulties were increased in any way by us, they would assuredly be destroyed; but our own unfortunate position prevents our doing anything of the kind. This causes the Lord Lieutenant the greatest anxiety; he organizes and applies remedies wherever he can; may it please the Almighty to enable him to do what is necessary to produce the desired effect! Nothing more is heard of the Fieramosca or of the truce; I have therefore nothing further to tell you on that subject. Every one has come to the conclusion that we have nothing to expect but war, since the perfidy of others prevented the success of a peace that would have been most useful and beneficial. There is no occasion, therefore, to delay resolving upon war; it should be done at once, so as to show to everybody that it is idle to think any more of peace. But we must act so that the Venetians and the king of France shall have no fear of our concluding any peace without their consent. And if this be done, and you succeed promptly in winning back the Venetians so that they come effectually to our assistance, then the delays which the storm has caused to the enemy will prove an advantage to us, inasmuch as it will have given us time enough for our forces to be sufficiently united to hold them in check. For your Lordships will see that it was fifteen days ago to-day that they decided to pass, but have not yet been able to do it; so that we may reasonably hope that the same causes may keep them fifteen days more, if not here where they are, at least this side of the mountains. But it behooves us, as I have said, to employ this time well, otherwise our ruin will only have been postponed, and will be the greater, the same as bodies that have been enfeebled by long disease are less able to support it than they were in its beginning. Valete!

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Bologna,

30 March, 1527

Niccolo Machiavelli

2 April, 1527

Bologna

LETTER XVI.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I have not written you for three days because so soon as the enemy moved from San Giovanni the Lord Lieutenant sent me here to provide quarters for the troops that are to arrive. Your Lordships will have learned from his letters that the enemy encamped day before yesterday at Ponte a Reno, but made no movement yesterday. The Lord President with the Marquis of Saluzzo and the Count Cajazzo, and all the rest of our troops, came here; and there remain in Bologna only the infantry of the Signor Giovanni, and those that are ordinarily stationed there. We have not yet heard to-day that the enemy has moved; and it is supposed either that they have not moved, or that they have made but little progress, so that it will take more than two days’ march for them to arrive here. If we hear of his coming here, we shall leave fifteen hundred men here. The Count Cajazzo has been sent with all his infantry to Ravenna, and thus we shall go on aiding and providing, so as to prevent the enemy from taking any important place. And if he does succeed in doing this, he will certainly be ruined; or he will be obliged to accept the truce that has been made. But if our evil fortune should prevent this truce from being definitely concluded, then it will be better to avoid it by continuing the war, than to show that we desire it eagerly. For the enemy have manifested their ill feeling so openly towards Italy, and more especially towards Florence, which they regard as their prey, that until they are undeceived upon that point they will look upon any arrangement as unreasonable, unless they are moved by the authority of the Viceroy in some way that I do not understand. For it is believed that the latter, the Fieramosca, and the Marchese del Guasto act most willingly in this matter; for he has gone expressly to Rome, and the Fieramosca, according to what he writes, has done the impossible on his part. And as to the Marchese, it is reported that, having asked for a safe-conduct to go to Naples through Romagna, and not having started yet, he has renewed his request, begging that it might be granted to him with the alternative to go through Florence and Rome, as he wished to speak with the Pope and discuss these matters with him; he complains much  of the wickedness of those who disturb this peace. All this is very well, and may help us to get our troops together if the war is not given up; otherwise no reasonable agreement is to be hoped for. For what sort of an arrangement can you expect from an enemy, who, despite of having the Alps between you and himself, and with the number of troops which you have on foot, still asks one hundred thousand florins of you within the space of three days, and one hundred and fifty thousand within ten days? When he gets to Florence the first thing he will ask of you will be all the movable property you possess. For without doubt (would it were not so!) the only inducement they have for advancing is the hope of pillaging your city. And there is no other way of escaping these evils but to undeceive the enemy as to your ability to resist him; and if this is to be done, then it is better to do it in the mountains than within our city walls, and to employ all the forces we have to keep him there. For if the enemy is detained in the mountains but a short time he will have to disband, as we learn from reliable quarters that if they do not succeed within the present month in taking some one of the large places, in which they will not succeed unless the places are abandoned, then they must of necessity succumb. And even if you should not succeed in defending yourselves on the other side or within the mountains, there will be nothing to prevent you from bringing the forces which you have there over to this side. For I remember in the war with Pisa, that the Pisans, wearied by its long duration, began to discuss amongst themselves whether they ought not to make terms with you. Pandolfo Petrucci, anticipating such an attempt, sent Messer Antonio da Venafro to dissuade them from it. Messer Antonio addressed them in public meeting, and after many other things said to them, “that they had passed a very tempestuous sea, and wanted now to drown themselves in a well.” I do not mention this because I think that Florence is about to abandon herself to despair, but to give you certain hope of safety provided you are willing rather to spend ten florins to secure your safety, than forty that would serve to enslave and ruin you. I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Bologna,

2 April, 1527

Niccolo Machiavelli

8 April, 1527

Furli

LETTER XVII.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

My previous letters will have informed you of all that has taken place here up till now. By the present you will learn that the enemy did not leave his encampment of the night before between Imola and Faenza, whence we greatly feared they would take the road to Tuscany. They sent a trumpeter to Faenza on behalf of Monseigneur de Bourbon, demanding in his name three things. The first was to grant free passage to his troops close under the walls of the place; the second, to supply him with provisions on being paid for them in cash; and the third was to receive his sick people within their town so that they might be cured there. All three of these demands were refused, and although the inhabitants were at first a little displeased at receiving our troops into garrison, yet they afterwards received them, and showed themselves more courageous and disposed to defend themselves. This morning, however, the enemy’s army approached within gunshot of Faenza, and then turned off to the left, taking the lower road to Ravenna; so that we feel sure for the moment that they will not enter Tuscany. We are also almost certain for the present that they will not attempt to take any of the places in Romagna; and as we have supplied Faenza, Imola, and Furli with provisions, so we shall equally supply Ravenna, Cesena, and Rimini. And those places that cannot now be supplied by land will be supplied by sea, so that they can remain perfectly safe, unless something quite unexpected should happen.

The Count Guido, who was with his troops at Modena, and the infantry of the Signor Giovanni, which had been left at Bologna, must, at the moment of my writing, have arrived at Imola. We are here at Furli with the Swiss and the French troops; and they fight with much reluctance. The commanders of these troops, so soon as they are separated from the Lord Lieutenant, carry out the plans agreed upon either very slowly or very badly. These soldiers are insupportable, and the inhabitants of the country are so afraid of them that they receive them most unwillingly. The troops of the League move very slowly, as they have no confidence in the truce, and the reported coming of the Viceroy would have disaffected  them entirely if the Lord Lieutenant had not represented to them that it amounted to nothing. We also heard that the Duke of Urbino had urgently demanded to come here, but it was believed that his zeal would cool off when he should hear that the coming of the Viceroy has revived the subject of the truce. Nevertheless, seeing the enemy marching towards his home ought to make him more solicitous than ever.

The amount of all this is, that the advantage we have of being masters of the strong places, of having an open country, of having had money, of having plenty of troops and experience, — all these things amount to nothing in consequence of our being divided into so many parties, and having so little confidence in each other.

On the other hand, the disadvantages which the enemy suffers from being shut in by the mountains, where he is dying of hunger, and having no money, — all these are causes of their being united and acting together, and makes them obstinate beyond all human belief. But to see their obstinacy overcome by the arrival of the Viceroy would indeed be good and most happy tidings for us. Valete!

Furli,

8 April, 1527

P. S. — I had forgotten to tell your Lordships that the enemy yesterday entered Berzighella, where there were neither inhabitants nor movables of any kind. The enemy burned the town; the citadel capitulated, but the enemy did not observe the terms of capitulation. Iterum valete!

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Niccolo Machiavelli

10 April, 1527

Furli

LETTER XVIII.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

I wrote to your Lordships day before yesterday. The enemy did not stir yesterday. Bussi and Cotignola have capitulated, and the enemy must have found sufficient provisions there to feed on for a little while. They are still in a position to be able by a single day’s march to lay siege to any one of the three places, Furli, Faenza, and Imola. It is now twelve o’clock and they have not stirred yet, nor do we know whether they intend doing so to-day.

We are most anxiously awaiting that truce, and it is regarded by every one here as a great necessity for us. I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Furli,

10 April, 1527

Niccolo Machiavelli

11 April, 1527

Furli

LETTER XIX.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

Day before yesterday I reported to your Lordships all that had taken place here. Since then I have nothing special to mention except that the enemy passed the river Lamone to-day, and are taking the lower road towards La Marca. They make as little progress as usual, and it is supposed that they will not lay siege to any other place whilst they are in Romagna, for we are always before them in time to garrison the place. But it is believed that we shall not be in time to supply garrisons to any of the towns of La Marca. Indeed, it is not a good plan that does not permit us to advance with sufficient troops to be able always to supply a sufficient garrison to the places we leave behind, and yet to have troops enough to take with us in our march forward. For it is like a consuming disease to be obliged to withdraw the troops from the places we have left behind for the purpose of placing them as garrisons in those that are before us; otherwise, we should not be in time to do it, and disorders and inconveniences would arise that would be apt to prove our ruin.

According to the orders given by the Duke of Urbino, we have commenced extending the army towards Parma, and have come, thus diminishing our forces, as far as here to Furli, where not enough troops remain to us to permit our leaving any behind and advancing with the remainder to Cesena and Rimini; for the Count Cajazzo was sent to Ravenna, and the Swiss that were left here cannot be induced to separate, one portion being unwilling to leave the other. If this could have been done, we should have left one part here, and would have gone with the other to Cesena; but as this was impossible, we found it necessary to begin to make use of the troops which we had left in detachments along the road. For it will not do to strip a place of its garrison, unless the enemy is so far off that he cannot return to attack it before a sufficient force is sent back for its defence. We are therefore obliged to be constantly on the alert, and to do everything just at the moment, if we wish to avoid the occurrence of disorders in front or in the rear. And as we cannot always get exact information, it is impossible entirely to prevent such disorders. Thence the contradictory reports, according to which at one moment the troops were coming from Tuscany, and the next moment they were not coming. Thence came the untimely evacuation of Imola, and the apprehensions in consequence on account of Bologna. It results from this that with such a system and such embarrassments it will be impossible for us to defend La Marca; to which is superadded the fact, that the places there are much less strong than those of Romagna. This plan of proceeding has shown and will show from day to day how much better the suggestions of Pietro Navarra were, and which he wrote to the Duke here, who, however, would not adopt them. According to Pietro Navarra’s plan, all our forces were to have been united into one body. The enemy would not then have been able either to have entered Tuscany, or to have come here; for it would have sufficed in all these places merely to have put men enough to guard the gates, as the enemy could not have attempted to besiege a place with an army in the rear that would have cut off their supplies. Anyhow there is the whole difficulty, and if we have to carry on the war, and the League does not unite its whole army, everything will go to ruin, unless, indeed, some of the necessities on which we have several times based our hopes should force the enemy to disband;  but the obstinacy which the enemy manifests deprives us of all hope that this will happen. Matters have come to that point that we must either achieve or conclude a peace, which, however unfavorable it may be, we shall not be able to decline, provided the conditions are at all endurable. For if we continue the war, and all our forces are not united, and if the commanders are not satisfied, and the king of France and the Venetians do not prove themselves better allies, and the Pope does not show himself more liberal with his money, then we shall be exposed to the most evident dangers of headlong ruin.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Furli,

11 April, 1527

Niccolo Machiavelli

13 April, 1527

Furli

LETTER XX.

Magnificent Signori, etc. —

According to what we hear up to the present hour, which is the fifteenth, the enemy have broken camp and passed the Montone; they are moving by the lower road towards Ravenna and Cesena. Yesterday they remained quiet, and there were various and contradictory reports as to their plans and intentions, all of which I write to your Lordships, not as positive, but as having heard them in the same way as we may hear of the movements of an army that does not know as yet what it is going to do. However, one aim and object they evidently have, and that is to try their fortune in Tuscany. But where, when, and how they are going to do it, they seemingly have not been able to decide themselves. Until to-day the impression prevailed that, before coming there, they wanted to secure a roost here that would serve them as a ladder to cross the mountains. This impression was confirmed by the report and general rumor, that they expected ten cannon from Ferrara wherewith to lay siege to one of the strong places. And although the majority believed that this was merely a report spread by the enemy’s commanders to serve as a pretext for their delay, either for the purpose of further negotiations for the truce, or for gaining time so that their other war material might arrive; yet it was also thought that it might be true,  as the report about these cannon came from so many quarters; and it was feared that, if the thing were done, this place might suffer, the greater part of the troops being Swiss, who do not like to be shut up and exposed to the risk of being starved out, as they could not be induced by any other reason to give up the place. Fears were also entertained for Faenza, on the supposition that the enemy might have obtained knowledge of the folly of its inhabitants, who had refused a large garrison, whilst the few troops they had were so badly treated by them that they are disposed at any moment to leave the place. Ravenna is feared for as being a large city, and having at present a garrison of not more than two thousand infantry; although in case of necessity more troops could readily have been sent there.

But all these doubts and fears were dispelled this morning by a new piece of intelligence, brought us by some men just arrived from the camp, and who are men of intelligence and good judgment. They report that the four pieces of cannon which the enemy had with them were sent by them to Luco; and that they had heard the Duc de Bourbon say, in discussing this matter with the other commanders, that the enemy wanted to pass into Tuscany regardless of everything else; and that he would go either by the Marecchia or some other route not far from that, which led also to Borgo a San Sepolcro. Every effort will be made to learn whether it be true that these four cannon are at Luco; for if that be so, then the whole matter would be perfectly clear. Their coming there must make us in part believe in the necessity in which they find themselves of being obliged to do something; and that it does not seem to them that they can make any progress in Romagna. We know, moreover, that the Siennese are urging them every day, and, according to a letter that has been intercepted, offer them provisions for one year if they will come that way. Our troops are all in such position that, with so many roads open to them, they can at any time get into Tuscany before the enemy; and if your Lordships have ordered that the most important places in the Val di Tevere and Val di Chiana shall be well supplied, and the others evacuated, the enemy, once entered upon your territory, will not make any greater progress there than what he has done here, mainly because he has no heavy artillery with him. So that it may  be said that so long as he shall not have arrived upon the Siennese territory he will not be able to effect anything of importance; and this will last long enough for us to have the whole frontier guarded by our troops from here. It is said that men ought to make a virtue of necessity; but if to virtue supervenes necessity, then virtue ought to become powerful and invincible. Your Lordships and our city have by your virtue alone defended and saved both Lombardy and Romagna; and it is impossible that now, since necessity has supervened to virtue, you should not be able to save yourselves.

It is now two o’clock of the night, and the enemy are encamped on the river Montone, a little below Strada. The reports multiply that they are going towards Tuscany, and that they have sent their heavy artillery to Luco. The Lord Lieutenant is resolved to wait until they have made another day’s march; and having thus assured himself of the route they are going to take, he will begin by sending the Count Guido, who is at this moment at Imola with a portion of our troops, in the direction of Tuscany; and we shall follow him with the rest, so as to be there before the enemy. And as all this is an evil that has been foreseen, your Lordships must not take another fright at it, for we have never thought here that we should be able to hold them back if they really wished to come. All that we could do was that they should have greater difficulties to encounter in coming, and that if possible they should gain less credit by it. And this has been accomplished, for they have not taken a single place in this province, and have not, therefore, any place that would, so to say, serve them as a ladder to enable them to reach Florence; and thus they have not the reputation which they would have had, if they had made some honorable captures. Thus they remain for the present like those bands of adventurers which, for one hundred and fifty years, have gone roving through the country, levying tribute, or ravaging it, without ever capturing any places. There is no apprehension that our country is less  capable of making resistance than the country here, or that the aid which the enemy has obtained from Sienna would prove more injurious to Tuscany than that which he has received at the hands of the Duke of Ferrara. The Duke of Urbino, as your Lordships will have heard, has sent two thousand men to his duchy; and suspicions have arisen that he has allowed some of his people to supply provisions to the Imperialists, which, if true, would facilitate their passage. We can only report what we hear from day to day; it is for your Lordships to judge whether some steps should not be taken for the protection of Florence through the Venetian ambassador.

I recommend myself to your Lordships, quæ bene valeant.

Servitor

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Furli,

13 April, 1527

Niccolo Machiavelli

Francesco Bandini

22 May, 1527

Civita Vecchia

LETTER XXI.

Signor Lieutenant: —

The Captain Messer Andrea has replied to the demand which we have made upon him at your Lordship’s request, that one of his galleys and a brigantine were at Livorno, and that the rest of his fleet was here; but that he could not dispose of any of his vessels owing to what was going on around us; that at any moment it might happen that the Pope had need of him, and if on such an occasion he were otherwise engaged he might be blamed for it; but that the galley and the brigantine would have to return from Livorno, and then he would place the brigantine at our disposal. He also informed us that the Marchioness of Mantua was to be here to-morrow, and would proceed with three galleys to Livorno, and that we might have passage on board of these. But we finally arranged to go either in the brigantine or galley, whichever should first return from Livorno. We had a conversation with the Captain about your letter of this morning, and he expressed himself pleased with everything, provided you would make your second encampment either at Monte Mari or in the Pope’s vineyard. And above all he deemed it important that you should venture upon a battle only when you had an advantage, fearing lest with equal  forces you would be beaten. The news from Florence and from France seemed to give him the greatest pleasure; and as to Florence he said that, if the Pope had taken a similar course a year ago, matters would now be in a very different condition.

Niccolo Machiavelli.

Francesco Bandini.

Civita Vecchia,

22 May, 1527

MISCELLANEOUS PAPERS.

DESCRIPTION OF THE MANNER IN WHICH THE DUKE VALENTINO PROCEEDED TO KILL VITELLOZZO VITELLI, OLIVEROTTO DA FERMO, AND THE SIGNOR PAGOLO AND THE DUKE GRAVINA ORSINI.

The Duke Valentino had returned from Lombardy, where he had gone to exculpate himself to King Louis XII. of France from the many calumnies that had been told of him on account of the revolt of Arezzo and other places in the Val di Chiana. He had stopped at Imola with the intention of uniting all his troops there for the purpose of attacking Giovanni Bentivogli, the tyrant of Bologna; as he wanted to bring that city under his dominion and make it the capital of his duchy of Romagna. When this project became known to the Vitelli and the Orsini and their adherents, they became apprehensive that the Duke would become too powerful; and that it was to be feared that after taking Bologna he would turn to destroy them, so as to remain alone under arms in Italy. They therefore appointed a meeting at Magione, in the Perugian territory, which was attended by the Cardinal, Pagolo, and the Duke Gravina Orsini, Vitellozzo Vitelli, Oliverotto da Fermo, Giampagolo Baglioni,  tyrant of Perugia, and Messer Antonio da Venafro, envoy of Pandolfo Petrucci, chief of the government of Sienna. They discussed the aggrandizement of the Duke, and his intentions, and the necessity of checking his eager ambition, as otherwise there would be danger of their being destroyed with the rest of them. They resolved not to abandon the Bentivogli, and to endeavor to win the Florentines over to their side. Accordingly they sent agents to those places, promising help to the one, and urging the other to unite with them against the common enemy. This meeting became quickly known throughout Italy, and those peoples who were not satisfied to be under the rule of the Duke, amongst whom were the people of Urbino, took hope of a change for the better. Thus it came that, whilst minds were thus undecided, certain men of Urbino formed the plan to seize the castle of San Leo, which still held for the Duke, and availed themselves of the following opportunity. The governor was strengthening the castle, and, as he was getting some timbers brought in, the conspirators placed themselves in ambush; and whilst the drawbridge was encumbered by some beams that were being brought to the castle, so that the guard on the inside could not prevent them, the conspirators seized the opportunity and leaped upon the bridge, and thus obtained entrance into the castle. So soon as this capture became known, the whole country rose in rebellion, and recalled the old Duke; although the capture of the castle did not inspire the people with as much hope as the meeting at Magione, by means of which they hoped to obtain assistance.

So soon as the members of the assembly at Magione heard of this revolt in Urbino, they felt that they must not lose this opportunity. They at once called their troops together, for the purpose of seizing any other place that might still remain in the hands of the Duke, and sent again to Florence to solicit that republic to join them in extinguishing the conflagration that threatened her equally with themselves. They showed the Florentines how easy victory would be, and that they could never expect a more favorable opportunity. But actuated by their hatred against the Vitelli and the Orsini, from various causes, the Florentines not only declined to unite with them, but sent their secretary, Niccolo Machiavelli, to offer to the Duke Valentino shelter and assistance against his new enemies. He found the Duke at Imola, full of apprehensions  because his own troops had suddenly and quite unexpectedly turned against him; so that he found himself disarmed at the very moment when war was almost upon him. But having taken courage again in consequence of the offers of the Florentines, he decided to protract the war with the few troops that he had, and to endeavor by peace negotiations to obtain assistance. This he managed in two ways: he sent to the king of France for troops, and at the same time engaged every man-at-arms, and others who followed the calling of mounted soldiers, and was careful to pay them all most exactly.

Notwithstanding all this, his enemies advanced and moved upon Fossombrone, where some of his troops had made a stand, but were routed by the Vitelli and the Orsini. This induced the Duke to try and stop these hostile attempts against him by peace negotiations; and being thoroughly skilled in the art of dissembling, he lost no chance of making his enemies understand that they were making war upon a man who was willing that they should have possession of all he had acquired, and that he merely wanted the title of prince, leaving them to have the principality. And so thoroughly did he persuade them of this that they sent the Signor Pagolo to him to negotiate a peace, and meantime they put up their arms.

But the Duke did not for a moment stop his preparations, and made every effort to increase both his infantry and his mounted force; and to prevent these preparations from being noticed, he distributed his troops separately through all the places of the Romagna. Meantime some five hundred French lances had come to him, and although he felt strong enough to revenge himself upon his enemies by open war, yet he thought it would be safer and more advantageous for him to keep up his deception, and not to stop his peace negotiations. And so well did he manage this matter, that he concluded a peace with them, according to which he confirmed to each of them their old engagements; he paid them four thousand ducats at once, and promised them not to disturb the Bentivogli. He also concluded a matrimonial alliance with Giovanni, and consented that none of them should ever be constrained to appear in person before him, except so far as it might suit themselves to do so. On the other hand, they promised to restore the duchy of Urbino to him, as well as all the other places which they had taken up to that day, to serve him in all his expeditions,  and not to make war upon any one without his permission, nor to engage themselves in the service of any one else.

After the conclusion of this treaty, Guido Ubaldo, Duke of Urbino, fled again to Venice, having first caused all the fortresses in his state to be dismantled; for having full confidence in the population, he did not want these fortresses, which he believed he could not defend, to fall into the enemy’s hands, who might use them to restrain and oppress his friends. But the Duke Valentino, after having concluded this convention, and having distributed all his troops and the French lances throughout the Romagna, suddenly left Imola, about the end of November, and went to Cesena, where he remained many days, negotiating with the agents of the Vitelli and of the Orsini, who happened to be with their troops in the duchy of Urbino, as to what new enterprises were to be undertaken. But as nothing was concluded, Oliverotto da Fermo was sent to make him the offer, that, if he were disposed to undertake the conquest of Tuscany, they were ready to co-operate with him; but if not, then they would go and endeavor to capture Sinigaglia. To which the Duke replied, that he had no intention of carrying the war into Tuscany, as the Florentines were his friends; but that he should be well pleased that they should take Sinigaglia.

Very soon after that, news came that the place had capitulated, but that the citadel had refused to surrender to them, the governor being unwilling to give it up to any one except to the Duke in person; and therefore they urged him to come there at once. The opportunity seemed favorable to the Duke, and his going not likely to give umbrage, as he had been called by them, and did not go of his own accord. And to make things the more sure, he dismissed all the French troops, who returned to Lombardy, except the one hundred lances under the command of Monseigneur de Caudales, his brother-in-law; and having left Cesena about the middle of December, he went on to Fano. There he employed all the cunning and sagacity that he was capable of; he persuaded Vitelli and the Orsini to await him at Sinigaglia, assuring them that mistrust could not make the agreement between them more sincere nor more durable, and that, so far as he was concerned, he only wanted to be able to avail himself of the arms and advice of his friends. And although Vitellozzo remained very reluctant to accept the invitation, his brother’s death having taught him that a prince  whom you have once offended is not to be trusted, yet he yielded to the persuasion of Pagolo Orsino, who had been corrupted by presents and promises of the Duke to wait for him at Sinigaglia. The Duke thereupon, before leaving for Fano, on the 30th of December, communicated his plan to eight of his most trusty followers, amongst whom were Don Michele and Monseigneur d’Enna, who afterwards became Cardinal. He directed them that so soon as Vitellozzo, Pagolo Orsino, the Duke Gravina, and Oliverotto came to meet him, each two of them should take one of these four between them, mentioning specially by name each one of the four which each two of them were to take between them; they were to entertain them until their arrival at Sinigaglia, and were not to permit them to leave until they had reached the Duke’s lodgings, where they were to make them prisoners. After that he ordered that all his armed force, consisting of more than two thousand horse and ten thousand infantry, should be at the break of day on the Metauro, a river five miles from Fano, and there to wait for him. Having met them there on the morning of the last day of December, he sent about two hundred of his mounted men ahead towards Sinigaglia, and then he started his infantry, after which he came himself with the remainder of his mounted force.

Fano and Sinigaglia are two cities of the Marches, situated on the shore of the Adriatic, and some fifteen miles distant from each other. Any one going to Sinigaglia has the mountains on his right hand; their base in some places stretches close down to the sea, so as to leave but a narrow space between, and at the widest place the distance between the mountains and the sea is barely two miles. The city of Sinigaglia is but little more than a bowshot’s distance from the foot of the mountains, and less than a mile from the shore. By the side of the city runs a little stream, which bathes that part of the walls of the city that looks up the road towards Fano. On approaching Sinigaglia the road runs for a considerable distance by the mountains; but on arriving at the stream that bathes the walls of Sinigaglia, the road turns to the left, and follows the banks of the stream for about a bowshot’s distance, until it comes to a bridge that spans the stream almost in face of the gate by which you enter Sinigaglia, not in a straight line, but obliquely. Before the gate there is a suburb composed of some houses and a square, one side of which is formed by the bank of the little stream.

The Vitelli and the Orsini, having given orders to await the coming of the Duke, had, by way of personally showing him honor, and for the purpose of lodging his troops, sent their own away to some castles about six miles distant from Sinigaglia, and had only left Oliverotto with his men in Sinigaglia; these consisted of one thousand infantry and one hundred and fifty mounted men, who were quartered in the above-mentioned suburb. Matters being thus arranged, the Duke Valentino went towards Sinigaglia; and when the head of his cavalry had reached the bridge, they did not pass it, but halted, and one half faced the river, and the other half fronted towards the country, leaving a space between them for the infantry to pass through, who entered the place without halting. Vitellozzo, Pagolo and the Duke Gravina, mounted on mules, and accompanied by a few horsemen, came to meet the Duke. Vitellozzo was without arms, and wore a cloak lined with green; he seemed very sad, as though he had a presentiment of the death that awaited him, which caused some astonishment, as his valor and former fortune were well known. It was said that, when he parted from his troops to come to Sinigaglia for the purpose of meeting the Duke, it seemed as though he bade them good by forever. He recommended his house and fortune to his captains, and admonished his nephews not to remember the fortune of their house, but only the valor of their fathers.

When the three arrived before the Duke, they saluted him courteously, and were graciously received by him; and those to whom the Duke had committed their charge took them at once between them. But when the Duke noticed that Oliverotto was not with them, (he having remained with his troops at Sinigaglia, whom he kept arrayed in line in the square opposite his lodgings by the river, where he made them go through their exercises,) he gave a wink to Don Michele, to whose charge Oliverotto had been confided, to see that Oliverotto should not escape. Don Michele therefore rode ahead, and having found Oliverotto he told him that this was not the time to keep the troops out of their quarters, which might otherwise be taken from them by the troops of the Duke; and therefore he advised him to let the troops go into their quarters, and come himself with him to meet the Duke. Oliverotto followed this advice, and went to join the Duke, who so soon as he saw him called him; and after having duly saluted the Duke, he joined the others.

When they had entered Sinigaglia they all dismounted at the Duke’s lodgings, and, having entered with him into an inner chamber, they were all made prisoners. The Duke immediately mounted his horse and ordered the troops of Oliverotto and the Orsini to be disarmed and stripped. Oliverotto’s troops, being near by, were completely stripped, but those of the Vitelli and the Orsini, being at a distance and having apprehended the destruction of their masters, had time to unite, and, recalling the valor and discipline of the Orsini and the Vitelli, drew together, and succeeded in saving themselves despite of the efforts of the people of the country and the hostile troops. The Duke’s soldiers, not satisfied with plundering the troops of Oliverotto, began to sack Sinigaglia, and they would have completely pillaged the town, if the Duke had not repressed their rapacity by having a number of them put to death.

But when night came and the disturbances were stopped, the Duke thought it time to make way with Vitellozzo and Oliverotto; and having them both brought into the same chamber, he had them strangled. Neither of them before death said a single word worthy of their past lives. Vitellozzo conjured those who put him to death to implore the Pope to grant him a plenary indulgence for all his crimes. Oliverotto, weeping, cast all the blame for the injuries done the Duke upon Vitellozzo. Pagolo and the Duke Gravina Orsini were left alive until Duke Valentino heard that the Pope had seized the Cardinal Orsino, the Archbishop of Florence, and Messer Jacopo da Santa Croce. After having received this intelligence, the Signor Pagolo and the Duke Gravina were strangled in the same way as the others, at Castel della Pieve, on the 18th of January, 1503.

REPORT ON THE AFFAIRS OF GERMANY.

No one can doubt the power of Germany, for she abounds in population, wealth, and troops. As to riches, there is not a community that has not a considerable amount in the public treasury; it is said that Strasburg alone has several millions of florins so placed. This arises from the fact that they have no expenses for which they draw money from the treasury, except to keep up their munitions, which, when once provided, require very little to keep them up. The order established in these matters is really admirable; for they always keep in the public magazines grain, drink, and fuel enough for one year. They also keep a supply of the raw material for their industries, so that in case of siege they can feed the people, and supply those who live by the labor of their hands with the necessary materials for an entire year without any loss.

They spend nothing for soldiers, for they keep all their men armed and exercised, and on holidays these men, instead of amusing themselves with idle play, exercise themselves, some with the gun, some with the pike, and some with one or another kind of arms; for which exercises they have established prizes of honor and other rewards. These are their only expenses, for in other matters they spend very little; and thus every community is rich in public treasure.

The reason why the private citizens are rich is, that they live as if they were poor; they do not build, and spend nothing on dress or costly furniture in their houses. They are satisfied with having plenty of bread and meat, and a stove where they can take refuge from the cold; and those who have no other things are satisfied to do without them, and do not seek after them. They spend two florins in ten years for clothing to  put on their backs; all live in this proportion, according to their rank, caring little for what they have not, but only for that which is strictly necessary; and their necessities are much less than ours. With such habits, it is natural that the money does not go out of the country, the people being content with what their country produces. But money is always being brought into the country by those who come to purchase the products of their industry, with which they supply almost all Italy. And the profit which they make is so much the greater, as the larger part of the money which they receive is for the labor of their hands only, and but little is for the raw material employed. And thus they enjoy their rough life and liberty, and for that reason they will not take service to go to war, unless they are exorbitantly paid; and this alone will not satisfy them, unless they are ordered by their communities. And therefore does the Emperor of Germany require much more money than any other sovereign, for the more prosperous the men are, the more unwillingly do they take service for the wars.

It may happen that the cities unite with the princes to favor the enterprises of the Emperor, or that they desire to do so by themselves, which would be quite sufficient. But neither cities nor princes would like the aggrandizement of the Emperor; for if he ever had any states of his own, or were to become powerful, he would so subdue and abase the princes, and would reduce them to that degree of obedience, that he could avail himself of them at his will, and not when it suited them; as the king of France does nowadays, and as was formerly done by King Louis XI., who by making war upon some of the princes, and killing others, reduced them to the degree of submission in which we see them now. The same would happen to the free cities of Germany, for the Emperor would want to reduce them to such a degree of obedience that he could control them at his pleasure, and obtain from them whatever he might ask, and not what might seem good to them.

The want of union between the free cities and the princes arises from the many contrary dispositions and interests that exist in that country. But reducing these to two principal divisions, it may be said that the Swiss are hostile to all Germany, and the princes to the Emperor. And yet it seems a strange thing to say that the Swiss and the free communities of Germany are  inimical to each other, whilst both have one and the same object, namely to save their liberties, and to protect themselves against the princes. But their disunion arises from this, that the Swiss are not only hostile to the princes, the same as the free communities, but they are equally hostile to the gentlemen, for in their country there is no difference of rank; and all, with the exception only of those who sit as magistrates, enjoy without distinction an equal and entire liberty. This example of the Swiss alarms the gentlemen in the free communities, and their whole occupation is to keep up the disunion and enmity between them and the Swiss. These have furthermore for enemies all those men of the communities who make war their trade, owing to a natural jealousy lest these should be more esteemed than themselves. So that you cannot bring ever so few or so many together in one camp without their quarrelling or coming to blows.

As to the enmity of the princes towards the cities and the Swiss, that is so well known as to make any discussion of it unnecessary; the same with regard to the hostility between the Emperor and the princes. It is well to bear in mind that the Emperor, instigated by his hatred of the princes, and unable to lower their pretensions by himself, has sought the support of the free cities; and for the same reasons he has for some time past taken the Swiss into his service, and has to some extent gained their confidence.

Considering now all these differences, and adding those that exist between one prince and another, and one community and another, it will be seen how difficult it is to obtain in the Empire that unanimity which is so necessary for an Emperor to carry out his projects. But what makes the enterprises of Germany vigorous and easy of success is, that there is not in all Germany a prince who would dare to oppose the designs of the Emperor, as used to be the case formerly. And yet it must be borne in mind that it is quite a sufficient impediment for an Emperor not to be aided by the princes in any of his projects; for those who will not make open war upon him will nevertheless dare to refuse him their support, and those who will not dare to refuse him aid and support will yet dare not to fulfil the promises which they may have made to the Emperor, while some who will not even dare this will yet venture to be so slow in the execution of their promises, that their  performance will no longer be in time to be of value. All this impedes and deranges the Emperor’s plans.

The truth of this was shown when the Emperor wanted to pass into Italy the first time, contrary to the wishes of the Venetians and the French. At the Diet held at that time in Constanz, the cities of Germany promised the Emperor sixteen thousand infantry and three thousand horse; and yet they could never get enough of them together to make five thousand men. The reason of this was, that, so soon as the contingent of one community arrived, that of another went home because they had completed their term of service. Some cities, for the purpose of exemption from service, gave money, which it was not difficult to induce the Emperor to accept. And for this and other reasons the promised number of troops was never brought together, and the enterprise failed in consequence.

The power of Germany certainly resides more in the cities than in the princes; for the latter are of two kinds, temporal and spiritual. The first have been reduced to great weakness, partly through their own acts, each principality being subdivided amongst several princes, in consequence of the laws of inheritance which they observe; and partly because the Emperor has debased their power, by the aid of the cities, as stated above, so that they have become as it were useless friends. As for the ecclesiastical princes, if not reduced by hereditary divisions, yet have they been brought very low by the ambition of their communities, sustained by the favor of the Emperor; so that the Archbishop Electors, and other dignitaries of this sort, have no power or influence in their own large communities. The consequence is that the division existing between them and their cities prevents their aiding the Emperor’s undertakings, even if they had the wish to do so.

But we come now to the free and imperial cities, which are the real nerve of the Empire, and have money as well as a good organization. For many reasons they enjoy their liberty with indifference, and have no desire to aggrandize their power; and what they do not desire for themselves they care little for others to have. Moreover, as there are a good many of them, and each one governs herself independently, their resolutions, when they wish to decide upon anything, are slow, and have not the desired efficiency. The following is an instance of it.  Not many years since, the Swiss assailed the states of the Emperor Maximilian and Suabia. His Majesty agreed with these communities to repel the enemy, and the free cities obligated themselves to put and keep in the field fourteen thousand men; but they never got the half of that number together, for when the troops of one community arrived, those of another went home. So that the Emperor, despairing of success, made terms with the Swiss, leaving them the city of Basle. Now if such was the conduct of these communities where their own interests were involved, think what they would do to aid the enterprises of others. All these considerations taken together diminish the power of these cities considerably, and render them of little advantage to the Emperor.

Owing to the extensive trade which the Venetians have with the merchants of the German cities, they have understood this better than any one else; but in all matters that they have had to do or to negotiate with the Emperor, they have never swerved from a strictly honorable course. For if they had feared the German power, they would have employed some other means, either in the way of money or by the cession of some place; or if they had believed that that power could have been united, they would never have opposed it; but knowing the impossibility of that, they opposed it courageously, and bided their opportunity.

If, therefore, in one of these cities the affairs that concern a great number of citizens are neglected, by how much greater reason will they be even more neglected in so great an empire. Moreover, these cities know very well that every acquisition made in Italy or elsewhere would only be for the benefit of the princes, and not for their own, inasmuch as the princes can enjoy them personally, which a community cannot do; and whenever the reward is unequal, men do not like to spend equally. Thus the power of these cities is great, but it is such that you cannot avail yourself of it. If those who fear Germany had examined the above-explained causes, and the results which this power has achieved for many years past, they would have seen to what extent it can be depended upon.

The German men-at-arms are very well mounted, and those parts that are usually protected are very well covered by armor, but their horses are heavy. And I must say that in a fight with Italians or French they would not be able to resist; not  on account of the men, but they use no kind of general armor for the horses; their saddles are small and are without saddlebows, so that the least shock unhorses the men. Another thing that renders them less effective is that the lower part of their bodies, that is to say their thighs and legs, are not protected by any armor; thus they are unable to resist the first shock, in which the value of the men-at-arms and their service consists.

For that reason they cannot use short arms, as they and their horses are so easily wounded in those parts that are not protected by armor. This puts it in the power of every foot soldier to unhorse or run them through the body with his pike; and moreover, when their horses get very much excited, their weight prevents them from being properly controlled. Their infantry is excellent, and the men are of fine stature, — very different from the Swiss, who are small, and neither clean nor good-looking. The greater part of the infantry is armed only with a pike or a short sword, so as to be more active, expeditious, and light. They are in the habit of saying that they do this because they have no other enemy but the artillery, from the effects of which neither breastplate, corselet, nor gorget can protect them. They fear no other weapons, for they say that their discipline is such that it is impossible to penetrate their ranks, or to approach them nearer than the length of a pike.

They are most excellent troops for a battle in the open field, but are not good for a siege, nor for defending a city; and generally speaking, where they cannot preserve their order and their ranks they are not to be depended upon. Experience has proved this; for whenever they have had to do with Italians, and especially when they have had to besiege a town, as was the case at Padua and other places, they gave but poor account of themselves; whilst, on the contrary, wherever they found themselves in the open field, they have always shown to advantage. So at the battle of Ravenna, between the French and the Spaniards, the French would have lost the day if they had not had the German Lansquenets. For whilst the men-at-arms of the opposing armies were engaged hand to hand, the Spaniards had already routed the French and Gascon infantry; and if the Germans, with their well-ordered ranks, had not come to their support, they would have been all killed or taken prisoners.  And so it was lately when the Catholic King declared war against France, and made an attack in Guienne; the Spaniards were more afraid of a body of ten thousand German troops which the king of France had, than of all the rest of his infantry, and avoided every occasion of meeting the Germans hand to hand.

SECOND REPORT ON THE AFFAIRS OF GERMANY. Made 17 June, 1508.

In June last the Emperor held a Diet at Constanz of all the princes of Germany, to provide for his passage into Italy, for the purpose of being crowned. He had called this Diet of his own accord, and also because he had been urged to it by the Pope’s envoy, who promised him powerful support on the part of the pontiff. The Emperor demanded of the Diet for his enterprise three thousand mounted men and sixteen thousand infantry, and pledged himself to add as many as thirty thousand men of his own. The reasons why he did not ask for more troops for so important an enterprise were, first, that he believed that that number would suffice; persuaded that he would have the support of the Venetians and other powers of Italy, as I will explain hereafter. He could never have believed that the Venetians would fail him, as he had but lately rendered them important services, when they were afraid of France, after her conquest of Genoa; for he had then sent at their request two thousand troops to Trent. He started the report that he intended to assemble all the princes; but, instead, went off into Suabia to threaten the Swiss, if they did not abandon their alliance with France. This caused King Louis to return to Lyons immediately after taking Genoa; so that the Emperor believed that he had saved the Venetians from a war which they feared, and that therefore they ought to be very grateful to him; in fact, he said several times that “he had no better friends in all Italy than the Venetians.”

The other reason why the Emperor had asked for so small a number of troops from the Diet was, that they would much more readily grant him that small number, than if he had  asked for more, and would more likely keep their promise. And because the Diet would more readily place them all under his command, without trying to give them commanders in the name of the Empire, who would be his companions rather than his captains. In fact, there were several members of the Diet, and the Archbishop of Mayence amongst them, who wished to push this enterprise with great vigor, and wanted to provide at least forty thousand men, and give them four commanders in the name of the Empire. Whereupon the Emperor became angry, and said, “I can carry this enterprise through by myself, and therefore want the honors of it.” The Diet thereupon voted him the nineteen thousand men, and decided moreover to give him one hundred and twenty thousand florins, to supply the army with necessaries, and to hire five thousand Swiss for six months, as he might think fit. The Emperor proposed that the men should assemble by the day of San Gallo, that seeming to him ample time to get them together, and convenient for their method of carrying on a war. He stated, moreover, that in the mean time he should be able to accomplish three things: the one, to win over the Venetians, whom he never mistrusted until the last moment, although their ambassador had been sent away, as was well known; the second, to make sure of the Swiss; and the third, to draw from the Pope and other states of Italy a goodly sum of money. He went on therefore with his negotiations; the day of San Gallo came, and the men began to collect, but the Emperor had not accomplished any one of the three things just mentioned. But as it seemed to him that he could not start, and not having as yet any doubts as to his final success, he sent some of the troops to Trent and some to other places; and did not stop his manœuvres until January came, and he had consumed one half of the time, and half of the supplies accorded to him by the Empire, without having accomplished anything. Finding himself in this position, he made the utmost efforts to win the Venetians. First he sent Fra Bianco to them, and then the priest Lucas; he sent the despot of the Morea, and at several intervals he sent his own heralds to them. But the more he went after them, the more they discovered his weakness, and the more they withdrew from him; for they found in all his promises not one of the motives that induce states to form alliances, which are either the common defence, or the fear of being attacked,  or simply their advantage. But they saw clearly that they would enter into an alliance where all the expense and danger were theirs, whilst the advantage would be all the Emperor’s. The Emperor, however, having no other course open to him, decided to attack them without further loss of time; thinking that perchance this might induce them to change their course. Perhaps this proceeding may have been suggested to him by his envoys; or he may have hoped that such an attack might induce the Empire to keep its engagements, and might possibly even influence them to augment his subsidies, seeing that the first did not suffice. But as he knew that before the arrival of such increased support he could not continue the war, nor abandon the country to the discretion of the enemy, he called a Diet of the people of Tyrol to meet on the 8th of January at the town of Botzen, which is about a day’s march above Trent. This principality, which he had inherited from his uncle, gave him a revenue of more than three hundred thousand florins, without being obliged to lay any taxes. He could levy there over sixteen thousand troops, and the inhabitants there are nearly all wealthy. This Diet remained in session nineteen days, and finally concluded to concede to the Emperor one thousand men for his descent into Italy; and if that number did not suffice, they would give him five thousand for three months, and would even go as far as ten thousand men, if the defence of the country required it.

After this conclusion the Emperor went to Trent, and on the 6th of February he made two attacks, the one upon Roveredo, and the other upon Vicenza, having only five thousand men, or even less, for these two assaults. Thereupon he suddenly left, and with a body of only about fifteen hundred infantry and peasants threw himself into the Val di Codaura in the direction of Treviso, ravaging a valley and taking certain strongholds. But seeing that the Venetians did not budge, he left his troops without notice, and retraced his steps to ascertain the intention of the Empire. The troops which he had left in the Val di Codaura were all killed, in consequence of which he sent the Duke of Brunswick there, but nothing was afterwards heard of him. He convoked the Diet in Suabia for the third Sunday in Lent; but as he had perceived that the members were not well disposed towards him, he went off to Guelders, and sent the priest Lucas to the Venetians to try to bring about  the truce, which was concluded on the 6th of the present month of June, after having lost all that he possessed in the Friuli, and being on the point of losing Trent also. But that place was defended by the people of the Tyrol; so far as the Emperor was concerned, however, and the troops of the Empire, Trent would have been lost; for these troops left for home at the most critical moment of the war, when their six months’ service had expired.

I know that people hearing this, and having seen it, will wonder and lose themselves in various conjectures, and cannot imagine why nothing has been seen of those nineteen thousand men which the Empire had promised, and how it is that Germany has not more keenly felt the loss of her honor, or how the Emperor could have deceived himself so completely. And thus every one varies in his ideas as to what is to be feared or hoped for the future, and what course matters may take. But as I was on the spot, and have heard the matter often discussed by many different persons, and having no other business but to observe this, I shall report all the facts that seemed to me worth noting. And if these observations do not explain everything distinctly, all of them taken together may perhaps solve the above questions. Nor do I give them as absolutely true or reasonable, but I report them only as having heard them; it seeming to me the duty of a servant to place before his master all that he learns and that may be of interest to him, so that he may make use of it for his advantage.

All whom I have heard speak on the subject agree that, if the Emperor could have done one of two things, he would certainly have succeeded in his designs upon Italy, considering the condition in which she is at present. And these things are, either that he should have changed his nature, or that Germany should have supported him in good earnest. Examining now the first, they say that, considering his resources, and supposing that he knew how to avail himself of them, he would not be inferior to any other monarch of Christendom. His states are said to give him a revenue of six hundred thousand florins, without any taxes, and his office as Emperor gives him an additional one hundred thousand florins. This income is entirely his own, and obliges him to no expense whatsoever. He does not expend one penny for either of the three items for which other sovereigns are obliged to provide; that is, he keeps no  men-at-arms, he pays no garrisons of fortresses, nor any officials of the cities. For the gentlemen of the country owe him military service, the fortresses are guarded by the inhabitants, and the cities have their burgomasters, etc., who administer their affairs.

He might nevertheless, if he were, for instance, like the king of Spain, provide in a little time such means as would insure the success of any enterprise. For with a revenue of eight to nine hundred thousand florins the Empire would not be so small a matter, nor would his country be so niggardly, but what he could easily increase his income; and thus with the convenience of declaring war suddenly, having troops prepared for war in every place, and being provided with money, he could carry the war promptly to every point, and fall unawares upon his enemies. Add to this the credit which it gives him to have the nephew of the king of Castile with him, the Duke of Burgundy, and the Count of Flanders, and his connection with England. All these things would be of such advantage, if well used, that all his designs upon Italy would without a doubt prove successful. But the Emperor, with all this income, never has a penny; and what is worse, no one knows what becomes of all his revenues.

As to the management of other matters, the priest Lucas, who is one of the Emperor’s principal agents, told me this: “The Emperor asks counsel of no one, but all the world advises him; he wants to do everything himself, but does nothing in his own way. And notwithstanding that he never communicates to any one, of his own accord, the secret designs which he has formed, yet, as their execution makes them known, he is dissuaded from them by the persons he has about him, who draw him off from his original plans. And those two qualities which many persons praise in him, the liberality and facility of his character, are the very qualities that ruin him.” This is the very reason why his intended descent into Italy caused such alarm. For his necessities increase with his victories, and it is not reasonable to suppose that he would have immediately changed his ways; and unless he should do so, if all the leaves on all the trees in Italy had become ducats, they would not suffice him. There is nothing that with money in hand he would not have obtained; and therefore were those considered wise by many who hesitated  to give him money the first time, so as not to have to hesitate still more about giving it to him a second time. And if he could not by any other means have obtained money from any prince, he would have asked it by way of loan; and if he could not have borrowed it, all the expenditures made until then would have been thrown away. I will give you a strictly true instance of this. When Messer Pagolo, on the 29th of March, made his demand, Messer Francesco Vettori having been despatched by him, I went to see him with the draft of the treaty, prepared according to your request; and when he came to that part which says, “Non possit Imperator petere aliam summam pecuniarum,” etc., he wanted to have the word “jure” inserted before “petere.” And when I asked him why, he replied that the Emperor wanted it so as to enable him to ask the money of us by way of loan; whereupon I answered him in such manner as was satisfactory to him. It must be observed that the Emperor’s frequent needs of money are the consequences of his frequent irregularities, and these necessities give rise to his frequent demands and the frequent Diets. And the little estimation in which he is held causes his feeble resolutions and their still more feeble execution.

But if the Emperor had come into Italy, you would not have been able to pay him with Diets, as Germany does; and his liberality would have been so much the worse for him, as he requires more money for carrying on a war than any other sovereign; for his people, being free and rich, are not influenced either by necessity or by affection, but serve him only by express orders of their communities, and at their own price; so that if, at the end of thirty days, the money for their pay has not come, they leave at once, and neither prayers nor promises nor threats will prevail upon them to stay, if the money is wanting. And when I say that the Germans are rich, the truth of it is easily proved. They become rich in great part because they live as if they were poor; for they neither build, nor dress, nor furnish their houses expensively. It is enough for them to have plenty of bread and meat, and to have a stove behind which they take refuge from the cold. Those who have no more conveniences do without them, and do not seek after them; they  spend about two florins in ten years on their back, and every one lives according to his rank in that proportion. Nobody cares for what he has not, but only for that which is necessary to him, and their necessities are very much less than ours. The result of these habits is that no money leaves their country, as the people are content with what their country produces; and thus they enjoy their rough and free life, and will not enlist to go to war, unless they are overpaid. And even that would not suffice, if the communities do not command their going; for these reasons the Emperor requires much more money than the king of Spain, or any other sovereign, whose people have different habits.

The Emperor’s good and easy nature is the cause why all persons whom he has about him deceive him. One of the men attached to his person has told me that he can be deceived once by everybody and everything, until he has found them out. But there are so many men and so many things, that he is exposed every day to being deceived, even if he were constantly on his guard. He has endless good qualities, and if he could overcome his two qualities of weakness and easy nature, he would be a most perfect man; for he is a good commander, governs his country with great justice, is affable and gracious in his audiences, and has many other qualities of a most excellent prince; and to conclude, if he could modify the two above-mentioned defects, it is judged that he would succeed in everything he undertakes.

The power of Germany cannot be doubted by any one, for she has abundant population, wealth, and armies. As to her wealth, there is not a community that has not a considerable amount in the public treasury; it is generally said that Strasburg has several millions of florins so placed. This arises from the fact that they have no expenses from which they draw money from the treasury, except to keep up their munitions, which, when once provided, require very little to keep them up. The order established in these matters is really admirable; for they always keep in their public magazines grain, drink, and fuel enough for one year. They also keep a supply of the raw material for their industries, so that, in case of siege, they can feed the people and supply those who live by the labor of their hands for an entire year without loss. They spend nothing for soldiers, for they keep all their men armed and exercised.  For salaries and other matters they spend very little, so that every community has its public treasury well filled.

It remains now that these communities unite with the princes to favor the designs of the Emperor, or that they should do so themselves without the princes, which would suffice. Those who occupy themselves with these matters say that the cause of their dissensions is to be found in the many different dispositions that exist in that country. And as to a general want of unity, they say that the Swiss are regarded as enemies by all Germany, the free cities are so regarded by the princes, and in the same way the princes by the Emperor. It may seem strange to say that the Swiss and the free cities are hostile to each other, as they both have one and the same object; namely, that of preserving their liberties and protecting themselves against the princes. But their division arises from this, that the Swiss are not only hostile to the princes, the same as the free cities, but they are also inimical to the gentlemen in the cities, because in their country there are neither princes nor nobles, and everybody enjoys perfect liberty, without any distinction amongst men, excepting only those who are members of the magistracies. This example of the Swiss alarms the nobles who still exist in the free cities, and all their efforts are directed to keeping alive this disunion and hostility. The Swiss have for enemies also all those men of the cities who devote themselves to military pursuits, being instigated by a natural jealousy, for they imagine themselves less esteemed; so that it is impossible to bring together few or many of the two countries in the same camp without their quarrelling and coming to blows.

As to the enmity of the princes towards the communities and the Swiss, it is unnecessary to say anything, as it is a notorious fact; the same as the hostility between the Emperor and the said princes. And you must know that, as the Emperor’s greatest repugnance is towards the princes, not being able by himself to humble them, he has availed himself of the support of the communities; and for the same reasons he has for some time past had negotiations with the Swiss, whose confidence he has of late gained to some degree. So that, taking into consideration all these divisions, and adding thereto those which exist between one prince and another, and one community and another, it seems almost impossible to bring about that union  which is so essentially necessary for the Emperor. But what has kept everybody hopeful, and made the affairs of the Emperor for some time past so promising, and his enterprises likely to succeed, is the fact that there is not a prince in all Germany who could venture to oppose the Emperor’s designs, as has already been said above. This has been and still is the truth; and people deceive themselves in supposing that it is only war and sedition in Germany that can defeat the Emperor’s projects, for he can be thwarted as effectually merely by not supporting him. And those who would not dare to declare war against him would not hesitate to refuse him their assistance, whilst those who would not venture to refuse him their support will not fulfil the promises they have made him; and those who would not even risk doing this will yet manage to delay their compliance with their promises until their execution would no longer be of use to the Emperor. All this offends the Emperor and deranges his plans.

The truth of this may be seen in the fact that the Diet had promised him nineteen thousand men, as stated above, but we have never seen as many as five thousand together. This could only have arisen either from the above-explained causes, or because the Emperor accepted money instead of men, and was possibly satisfied to take five instead of ten.

And to explain still further as to the power and union of Germany, I would say that this power resides more in the communities than in the princes; for the princes are of two kinds, namely, temporal and spiritual. The temporal princes are reduced to a condition of great weakness, partly by their own action, each principality being divided between several princes, according to the custom of succession which they observe, and which requires such equal division; and partly because the Emperor, aided by the communities, has diminished their power, so that they have become useless as friends and little to be feared as enemies. As for the ecclesiastical princes, if their power has not been annihilated by hereditary divisions, the ambition of the communities favored by the Emperor has reduced their authority very low; so that the Archbishop Electors, and other similar dignitaries, can effect nothing in their own large communities. The consequence is, that neither themselves nor their cities, being thus divided amongst themselves, can do anything to aid the Emperor’s enterprises, even if they wished to do so.

But we come now to the free and imperial cities, which are the very nerve of the country, and who possess riches and well-regulated organization. These are for many reasons very lukewarm in their disposition to aid the Emperor’s projects; their chief aim is the preservation of their liberty, and not increase of their dominions; and what they do not desire for themselves, they care not that others should acquire. Moreover, there being so many of them, and all accustomed to govern themselves, causes their support to come very slow, even if they are willing to grant it; so that their usefulness is no longer in time. The following is an instance of this. Nine years ago the Swiss assailed the states of Maximilian and of Suabia. The Emperor agreed with the free cities to repel the enemy, and the cities promised to keep fourteen thousand men under arms, at his disposal; but they never had half of that number together, for when the contingent of one city came, the others went away; so that the Emperor, despairing of the enterprise, made terms with the Swiss, and abandoned to them the town of Basle. Now if they act in this way where their own interests are concerned, it is easy to judge as to what they are likely to do to aid the enterprises of others. All these circumstances taken together, therefore, reduce their power very much, and make it of little advantage to the Emperor.

The Venetians, owing to their extensive commercial relations with the merchants of the German cities, have understood this better than any one in Italy, and have therefore more effectually opposed the power of the Empire. But if they had feared that power, they would not have ventured to oppose it; and even if they had opposed it, and had believed that it had been possible for the whole Empire to unite against them, they would never have attacked it.

But as they were satisfied of the impossibility of such union, they did not hesitate to show themselves so bold as has been seen. Nevertheless, all the Italians that are at the Emperor’s court, and whom I have heard discuss all these questions, remain firmly attached to the hope that all Germany is on the point of uniting, and that the Emperor will throw himself into her arms; and that the plans that were discussed last year at the Diet of Constanz as regards the generals and the troops will be carried out; and that the Emperor will now yield from necessity, and the Diet will do so voluntarily, so as to recover  the honor of the empire; and that they will care little about the truce, which had been concluded by the Emperor and not by them. To this others reply, that it is well not to put too much faith in things that are yet to happen, because it is seen every day that those matters which interest a great many in a city are often neglected, and that such will be the case to a much greater degree in a whole country. Moreover, the cities know that the conquest of ltaly would not be for their benefit, but for that of the princes, who can personally enjoy that country, which they could not do. And where the benefit is unequal, people are not willing to bear equal expenses; and thus opinions remain undecided, without being able to determine the events that are yet in the future.

This all that I have learned respecting Germany. As to other matters that may influence peace or war between the different princes of that country, I have heard a good deal said, but as it was all based upon mere conjectures, of which you may have more correct information and certainly better judgment, I leave them without saying anything more about them. Valete!

DISCOURSE ON THE AFFAIRS OF GERMANY AND ON THE EMPEROR.

Having written on my return here last year all I knew about the affairs of Germany and the Emperor, I am really at a loss as to what more to say on the subject. I shall confine myself therefore to a few remarks about the character of the Emperor. There is not, and perhaps never has been, a prince more wasteful than he is. This is the reason why he is always in want, and why he never has money enough, no matter in what situation he may find himself. He is very fickle, wanting one thing to-day, and next day caring nothing about it; he takes counsel from no one, and yet believes everybody. He desires what he cannot have, and leaves that which he can readily obtain; and therefore he always takes contradictory resolutions.

On the other hand he is most warlike, and knows how to maintain and conduct an army well, preserving justice and discipline. He bears any kind of fatigue as well as any other man inured to it; is courageous in danger, and as a general is not inferior to any man of the present day. He is affable in his audiences, but will grant them only when it suits him; he does not like ambassadors to come and pay their court to him, unless he sends for them; he is extremely reticent; he lives in a constant state of agitation of mind and body, and often undoes in the evening what he has concluded in the morning. This makes the missions near him very difficult, for the most important duty of an ambassador, whether sent by a prince or a republic, is to conjecture well the future, both as to negotiations and events; for he who is able to form wise conjectures, and make them well understood by his government, renders an important service, and enables his government to take timely measures. The envoy who does this does honor to himself,  and benefits the government at home; and the contrary is the case when the conjectures are badly made. To illustrate this more particularly, assume that you are in a place where the question is between making war or negotiating. To perform your duty well, you have to say what the prevailing opinion is respecting the one and the other. War has to be measured by the number and quality of the troops, by the amount of money, by conduct, and by fortune; and it is to be presumed that that party which has most of these advantages is likely to be victorious. After having well considered thus who is likely to be successful, it is necessary to make it well understood here, so that the republic and yourselves may the better decide upon the course to be adopted. The negotiations are of different kinds, that is, they will be partly between the Venetians and the Emperor, partly between the Emperor and France, partly between the Emperor and the Pope, and partly between the Emperor and yourselves. Respecting the last it ought to be easy to conjecture rightly, and to judge of the Emperor’s intentions with regard to yourselves, — what he really wants, which way his mind is turned, and what could make him draw back or go forward; and having found that out, to judge whether it be more advantageous to temporize or to conclude. But it will be for you to decide as to how far your commission extends in relation to these matters.

AN ACCOUNT OF THE AFFAIRS OF FRANCE.

DRAWN UP BY NICCOLO MACHIAVELLI.

The Crown and the King of France are at this time more flourishing, rich, and powerful than they have ever been; and for the following reasons.

First, the Crown, being hereditary in the same family, has become rich; for as it happens sometimes that the king has no sons nor heirs to his properties, his states and substance have fallen to the Crown. As this has been the case with several kings, the Crown has been greatly enriched by the many states that have thus come to her. Such was the case with the duchy of Anjou, and such will happen to the present king, Louis XII., who, having no male heirs, will leave to the Crown the duchy of Orleans and the state of Milan; so that at this time all the best fiefs of France belong to the Crown, and not to private barons.

Another and most important cause of the power of this king is, that formerly France was kept disunited by the powerful barons, who dared on every occasion to take up arms against the king; as was the case with the Dukes of Guienne and of Bourbon, but who are now most submissive; and thus the Crown has become more powerful. A further reason is, that every neighboring prince did not hesitate to attack the kingdom of France; for there was always either the Duke of Brittany, or a Duke of Guienne, or of Burgundy, or of Flanders, ready to aid him, and to grant him passage through his territory and give him asylum in case of defeat. This happened whenever the English were at war with France, for they always caused the king embarrassments through the Duke of Brittany; as did the Duke of Burgundy by means of the Duke of Bourbon. But now that Brittany, Guienne, and the Bourbonese,  as well as the greater part of Burgundy, are the most submissive provinces of France, the neighboring princes have no longer the same facilities for invading the kingdom of France; on the contrary, these provinces would now prove hostile to such an invader. And the king, having acquired these provinces, has himself become more powerful thereby, whilst the enemy has become weaker.

There is still the further reason that nowadays the richest and most powerful barons of France are of royal blood and lineage, so that, if the superior branch were to lack heirs, the Crown may descend to them. And therefore each maintains his good relations to the Crown, hoping that either himself or his descendants may some day attain that high rank.

To rebel, therefore, or to be mixed up in any way with such opposition, might be of greater injury than advantage to him. This came near happening to the present king, when made prisoner in the war of Brittany, in which he took part with that Duke against the French. And at the death of King Charles VIII. the question came up whether, by his defection from the Crown, he did not forfeit his rights to the succession. But the riches which he had accumulated by his economies enabled him to secure partisans; and the most immediate successor to the throne, if he had been out of the way, namely, the Duke of Angoulême, was but a child; and thus the present king received the crown, for the reasons stated, and from the general favor which he enjoyed.

The final reason is, that the properties of the barons of France are not divided amongst the heirs, as is the case in Germany and in the greater part of Italy; but they go entirely to the oldest sons, who are the real heirs. The other brothers submit patiently, but, aided by the older brother, they nearly all take to the profession of arms, and strive in that career to achieve a rank and wealth that will enable them also to purchase a state, and in this hope they live. And thence it comes that the French men-at-arms are nowadays the best, for they are all nobles or sons of lords, and count upon achieving the same rank as their fathers.

The infantry that is raised in France cannot be good for much, for it is a long time since they have had a war, and therefore they have no experience whatever. They are moreover all of the lower order and tradesmen from the country,  and are so subordinated to the nobles and so abject in all their actions as to have become actually debased; and for that reason the king does not employ them in war, for they have given but poor proof of courage. There are however some Gascons amongst them whom the king employs, as being somewhat better than the others. This may be because they are from near the Spanish borders and bear some slight resemblance to the inhabitants of that country, although they have acted for some years past more like robbers than like real soldiers. Still, in the attack and defence of places they have not proved themselves bad, but in the open field they are good for nothing; differing in that respect very much from the Germans and the Swiss, who have no equals in the open field, but are not worth much in the attack or defence of a city. I believe this arises from the fact that in the two latter cases they cannot preserve the discipline and order which they keep in their camps; and therefore the king of France always employs Swiss or Lansquenets, for his men-at-arms have no confidence in the Gascons when opposed to an enemy. If the French infantry equalled in goodness their men-at-arms, then there can be no doubt but what they would defend themselves successfully against all other princes.

The French are by nature more ferocious than vigorous and adroit; and if you can resist the fury of their first onset, you will find them so depressed and so entirely discouraged, that they become cowardly like women. They do not support fatigue nor discomforts, and soon become neglectful of everything, so that it is easy to surprise them in disorder, and to overcome them. We have had repeated experience of this in the kingdom of Naples; and lately again on the Garigliano, where their forces were nearly double that of the Spaniards, so that it was supposed they could at any moment swallow them up. But so soon as winter began to make itself felt and the great rains commenced, they began to go off one by one into the neighboring places, to find more comfort. And thus their camp remained without sufficient force and in disorder, so that the Spaniards proved victorious, contrary to all expectation.

The same thing would have happened to the Venetians, who would not have lost the battle of Vaila if they had been content to observe the French for about ten days; but the impetuosity  of Bartolommeo d’ Alviano encountered a still greater impetuosity. The Spaniards experienced the same thing at Ravenna; for if they had not attacked the French, these would have been disorganized from lack of discipline and want of provisions, which the Venetians interrupted in the direction of Ferrara, and which could have been cut off by the Spaniards on the side of Bologna. But as the first acted without good advice, so the other acted with even less judgment, and the French remained victorious, although at the cost of much blood. And though the struggle was great, it would have been greater still if the main strength of the two armies had been of the same character. But the strength of the French army consisted mainly in men-at-arms, whilst that of the Spaniards was chiefly in infantry; and for that reason the slaughter was not greater. Whoever, therefore, wishes to defeat the French must beware of their first onset; whilst keeping them at bay for a time will defeat them, for the above-stated reasons. And therefore Cæsar said that “at the beginning the French were more than men, but in the end less than women.”

By the extent of her territory and the advantages derived from her large rivers, France is very productive and opulent; but the abundant productions of the soil, as well as manual labor, have little or no value, owing to the scarcity of money amongst the people, who can scarcely get enough together to pay their dues to the lord proprietor, although the amounts are but very small. This arises from their not having an outlet for the productions of the soil, for every man gathers enough to sell some; so that if in any one place a man wanted to sell a bushel of grain, he would not find a purchaser, everybody having grain to sell. And of the money which the gentlemen draw from their tenants, they spend nothing except for their clothing; for they have cattle enough to give them meat, innumerable fowls, lakes full of fish, and parks with an abundance of every variety of game; and thus almost every gentleman lives upon his estates. In this way all the money accumulates in the hands of the proprietors, and their wealth is accordingly great; whilst the people, when they have a florin, deem themselves rich.

The prelates of France draw two fifths of their revenues and wealth from the kingdom, there being a good many bishoprics having incomes from temporal as well as spiritual sources.  And as they have abundant supplies of all the necessaries of life, all the revenues and moneys that come into their hands never leave them again, according to the avaricious nature of prelates and churchmen; and all the money that is collected by the chapters and colleges of the Church is spent for silver, jewels, and costly church ornaments. Thus the Church properties and what the prelates possess privately in the way of money and silver plate, etc., amount to an immense treasure.

In the council for the direction and management of the affairs of the crown and the state of France, the prelates always constitute the majority; the other lords care nothing about this, for they know that the execution of the decisions always devolves upon them; and thus both are satisfied, the first with the direction, and the others with the execution; although at times old and experienced officers are called into the council, when military matters have to be discussed and decided, so that they may guide the prelates, who have no practical experience in these matters.

In virtue of a certain pragmatic sanction obtained long ago from the Popes, all the Church benefices of France are bestowed by their colleges; so that, in case of the death of a bishop or an archbishop, the canons of the Church meet and confer the benefice upon the individual amongst themselves who seems to them to merit it most. It happens not unfrequently that this gives rise to dissensions amongst them, for there are always some who are favored on account of their riches, and others for their virtues and good works. The monks proceed in the same way in the election of their superiors. The other small Church benefices are bestowed by the bishops who have such livings in their gift. And if the king ever attempts to disparage this pragmatic sanction by appointing a bishop of his own choice, he would have to employ force to put him in possession, which the canons would refuse him; and if they had to yield to this force, they would abide the death of the king to expel that bishop from his see, and give it to the one elected by themselves.

The Frenchman is naturally covetous of other people’s goods,  of which, together with his own, he is afterwards prodigal. Thus, the Frenchman will rob most skilfully, to eat, or to waste what he has robbed, or even to enjoy it together with the very person whom he has robbed; entirely different from the Spaniard, who will never let you see again what he has taken from you.

France fears the English, because she remembers the incursions and devastations by the latter in the realm; so that the very name of English is a terror to the people, who do not bear in mind that France is nowadays in a very different position from what she was in those unhappy times. For she is armed, experienced in war, and united, and has possession of those very provinces which served the English as a basis for their operations, such as the duchies of Brittany and of Burgundy. Moreover, the English are no longer disciplined, for it is a long while since they have had a war, so that none of the people now living have ever seen an enemy’s face; and then there is no one save the Archduke who would be willing to see them on the Continent.

The French would be much afraid of the Spaniards on account of their sagacity and vigilance. But every time that the king of Spain would attack France, he would have to do it at great disadvantage; for from that point in his kingdom from which his troops would have to start to the foot of the Pyrenees which stretch into France, the distance is so great and the country so sterile that if the French make a stand at the entrance of the Pyrenees by way of Perpignan or Guienne, the enemy’s army would be disorganized, if not from want of reinforcements, at least from the difficulty of obtaining provisions, which would have to be brought from a great distance. For the country which has to be traversed is uninhabited on account of its sterility, and those who do inhabit it have scarcely enough to sustain their own existence. For these reasons, the French do not fear the Spaniards in the direction of the Pyrenees.

Nothing is to be apprehended by the French of the Flemish, whose country is so cold that they cannot raise sufficient provisions, and particularly grain and wine, which they have to procure from Burgundy, Picardy, and some other provinces of France. Moreover, the people of Flanders live by the labor of their hands, and they readily sell the produce of their manufactures,  as well as other merchandise, at the French fairs; chiefly at Lyons and Paris. They have no outlet for their wares by sea, nor in Germany, for the Germans produce and manufacture themselves even more than the Flemish. Thus, when their trade with France is interrupted, they have no other market for their merchandise, and thus their goods remain on their hands, and they are not able to purchase provisions; and therefore the Flemish never have war with France, unless they are forced to it.

The Swiss are much feared by the French, owing to their close proximity, and the facility with which they can make sudden and unexpected attacks, against which, owing to their rapidity, it is impossible to provide in time. These incursions of the Swiss, however, are mere predatory raids; for as they have neither artillery nor horses, and as the strong places which the French possess near the frontier are well supplied with munitions, the Swiss are not able to make much progress. And then the nature of the Swiss is better suited to battles in the open field than to sieges or to the defence of places. But the French of the frontier do not like to come to an open hand-to-hand fight with the Swiss, for they have no good infantry that can withstand the Swiss, and the men-at-arms without infantry do not amount to much. The country, moreover, is so formed that lances and other mounted men can but illy manœuvre there, whilst the Swiss go most unwillingly far from their frontiers to reach level ground; for they would leave behind them strong places well supplied with everything, as stated above. They would also be afraid to expose themselves thus to be short of provisions, and to be unable to return to their homes, after having penetrated into the open country.

There is nothing to be feared from the side towards Italy; for the Apennine Mountains and the fortresses at their base would arrest any one who wished to attack the kingdom of France. And the country behind them is so unproductive that they would starve; or they would have to leave these strongholds behind them, which would be great folly; or they would have to go to work and take these fortresses. However, France has nothing to fear from the side of Italy, for the reasons above stated, and because there is not in all Italy a prince capable of assaulting France, and Italy herself is not united, as she was in the time of the Romans.

On the south side, France is sufficiently protected by the Mediterranean, in the ports of which there are always vessels enough, belonging to the king of France or other proprietors, to be able to defend that part of the kingdom from any unexpected attack. Against a premeditated attack there is always time to prepare, for whoever contemplates it needs time to make the necessary preparations and arrangements, and this will quickly become known to everybody. And all these provinces are generally provided with a garrison of men-at-arms, for the greater security.

Little is spent in guarding the country, for the people are most obedient, so that fortresses are not needed for the preservation of quiet within the realm; and on the frontiers, where there would otherwise be some occasion for such expenditure, the garrisons of men-at-arms make such expense unnecessary. For against a great invasion there is always time to prepare, as the invader himself would need time to gather his forces for such an attempt.

The French people are submissive and most obedient, and hold their king in great veneration. They live at a very small expense, owing to the great abundance of the products of the soil; and every one has a small property to himself. They dress coarsely, in cheap cloth, and neither the men nor the women use silk in any way, for it would at once be noted by the gentlemen.

According to the last computation there are thirty-six bishoprics in France, and eighteen archbishoprics. Of parishes there are one million seven hundred, including seven hundred and forty abbeys. Of the priories there is no account.

I have not been able to ascertain the ordinary or extraordinary revenues of the Crown; I have asked a great many persons, and they have all replied that the revenue depended entirely on the will of the king. Some one, however, has told me that a portion of the ordinary revenue, that is to say, that part which is specially called “the king’s money,” and which is derived from the gabel on bread, wine, meat, etc., yields about 1,700,000 scudi. The extraordinary revenue is derived from taxes, and these are fixed high or low according to the king’s will. And if these revenues are insufficient, then loans are resorted to, which are, however, rarely repaid. The royal letters  by which these loans are called for, are drawn up in the following form: “The king, our master, recommends himself to you, and, having need of money, he begs you will lend him the sum specified in this letter.” The amount is then paid into the hands of the receiver of the place, there being one in every place, who receives all revenues, whether resulting from the gabels, taxes, or loans. The domains of the Crown have no other regulations for the payment of dues except the will of the king, as said above.

The authority of the barons over their vassals is complete. Their revenues consist of bread, wine, and meat, the same as those stated above, and so much for every hearth per year; this, however, does not exceed six or eight sous per hearth for every three months. The barons cannot raise taxes nor loans without the king’s consent, which he rarely grants.

The Crown exacts from the barons nothing but the impost upon salt, and never taxes them except on the occasion of some extraordinary necessity.

The regulations established by the king with regard to extraordinary expenses, for war as well as for other purposes, are that he commands the treasurers to pay the soldiers, and accordingly they pay the amount into the hands of those who review the troops. The pensioners and the gentlemen go to the Generals of Finance, and make them give them a discharge; that is, an order for their payment from month to month; and every three months they go to the receiver of the province where they reside, and are promptly paid.

The gentlemen of the king number two hundred; their pay is twenty scudi per month, and they are paid ut supra, and each hundred have a chief; these used to be Messire Guyon d’Amboise, the Seigneur de Ravel, and the Vidame Louis de Brézé.

The number of pensioners is not known; some of them are paid little, others much, just as it may please the king. They live in the hope of advancement, but there is nothing fixed as regards this.

The duty of the Generals of Finance is to levy so much per hearth, and so much for taxes with the consent of the King; and to see that the expenses, ordinary as well as extraordinary, are paid at the proper time, that is, the discharges, as explained above.

The treasurers keep the money, and pay it out according to the orders and discharges of the Generals of Finance.

The power of the Grand Chancellor is absolute; he can grant pardons, and can condemn at his pleasure “etiam in capitalibus sine consensu regis.” He can relieve litigants from the charge of contumacy; but he can grant pardons only with the consent of the king, for all pardons are granted by royal letters sealed with the great royal seal, and he is charged with the keeping of this great seal. His salary is ten thousand francs per year, and an allowance of eleven thousand francs for his table. By table is understood giving dinner and supper to as many members of the council as follow the Grand Chancellor, that is, to the advocates and gentlemen that are attached to him, whenever it pleases them to eat with him, which privilege they use very often.

The pension which the king of France paid to the king of England was fifty thousand francs per year; its object was the repayment of certain outlays made by the father of the present king of England in the duchy of Brittany. But this pension is now terminated, and is paid no more.

At present there is in France but one Grand Seneschal; but when there are several seneschals, — I do not mean grand, as there is only one, — then their jurisdiction extends over the ordinary and extraordinary men-at-arms, who are obliged to obey this Grand Seneschal because of the dignity of his office.

The number of governors of provinces depends upon the will of the king, who pays them what he pleases; they are named by him for life or for a year, according to his pleasure. The other governors, and even lieutenants of the small places, are all appointed by the king; and in fact all the offices of the realm are bestowed or sold by the king, and by no one else.

Every year a general statement of expenses is prepared, sometimes in August, sometimes in October or in January, according to the pleasure of the king. The Generals of Finance present an account of the ordinary revenues and expenses of the year, and then a balance is established between the receipts and the expenses, and the amount of the pensions and the number of the pensioners are increased or diminished according to the king’s orders.

The amount of distributions amongst the gentlemen and pensioners is unlimited; they do not require the approval  of the Chamber of Accounts; the king’s authority is all-sufficient.

The functions of the Chamber of Accounts consist in revising the accounts of all who have anything to do with the administration of the moneys of the Crown, such as the Generals of Finance, the treasurers, and the receivers.

The University of Paris is paid from the revenues of the endowments of the colleges, but very poorly.

There are five Parliaments, namely, Paris, Rouen, Toulouse, Bordeaux, and the Dauphiné, and there is no appeal from any of them.

The best Universities are the following four: Paris, Orleans, Bourges, and Poitiers; after these come Tours and Angiers, but these are not worth much.

Garrisons are placed wherever the king wills it, and as many men as seems good to him, both of artillery and of infantry. Nevertheless, all the places have a few pieces of artillery in store. And within the last two years they have established them in a great many places in the kingdom, at the cost of the places where such depots have been formed, by increasing the taxes one penny per head of cattle or per measure of grain. Ordinarily, when the kingdom is at peace, there are only four places that are garrisoned; these are Guienne, Picardy, Burgundy, and Provence. These garrisons change places, and are increased in numbers according to the apprehensions of danger in either one or the other province.

I have made great efforts to find out what amount of money is assigned to the king for the expenses of his household and for his person, and find that he has all he asks for.

The archers are four hundred in number, and they are charged with the guard of the king’s person. Amongst them are one hundred Scotchmen; each man receives three hundred francs per year, and a doublet of the king’s livery. The king’s body-guard is composed of twenty-four men, who never leave his side; they have each four hundred francs per year; their captains are Monseigneur d’Aubigny, Crussol, and the Captain Gabriel.

The foot guard is composed of Germans, one hundred of which are paid twelve francs per month; they used to be three hundred, with ten francs per month pay; and two suits of clothing, one for winter and one for summer, that is to say, a  doublet and hose of the king’s livery. The one hundred footguards used to have the doublet of silk in the time of King Charles VIII.

The fourriers are charged with providing lodgings for the court; they are thirty-two in number, and receive three hundred francs per year and a doublet of the king’s livery. In providing the lodgings they divide themselves into four sections, and each section has a quartermaster, who receives six hundred francs per year. The first section, commanded by a quartermaster, or in his absence by a lieutenant, remains in the place which the court leaves, so as to settle with the proprietors who have furnished the quarters; the second division accompanies the king; the third section proceeds to the place where the king is to arrive on the first day; and the fourth goes to where the king is to arrive on the following day. They proceed with such remarkable order that every one on his arrival finds his lodgings fully prepared, even to a woman of pleasure.

The Provost of the Palace is an officer that always follows the king’s person, and his office is one of absolute authority, and wherever the court goes, his tribunal is the first, and even the inhabitants of the place may be condemned by him, the same as by the king’s lieutenant. Those who are seized by him for any criminal cause cannot appeal to the Parliaments. His pay is ordinarily six thousand francs per year. He has two civil justices under him, who are paid by the king six hundred francs per year each. He has also a lieutenant for criminal cases, who commands thirty archers, and these are paid the same as the archers mentioned above. He decides in civil and in criminal matters, and when the complainant has been confronted with the accused in the presence of the provost, it suffices for him to decide the case.

The king has eight house stewards; but they are not all paid equally, for some have one thousand francs per year, and others less, according to the king’s pleasure. The Grand Master of the household, who has succeeded Monseigneur de Chaumont, is the Marquis de Palisse, whose father formerly held the same charge. His pay is eleven thousand francs per year; and his authority does not extend beyond commanding the other house stewards.

The Admiral of France has command of all the naval forces and all the harbors of the kingdom; he can dispose according  to his pleasure of all the vessels of the fleet. The present Admiral is Monseigneur Pregent de Bedoux, and his salary is ten thousand francs per year.

The order of knighthood has no fixed number; the knights are as many as the king may choose to name. On their admission to the order they swear to defend the Crown and never to bear arms against it. They cannot be deprived of their title during their lifetime. Their pay is at most four thousand francs per year, and some have less, for they have not all the same grade.

The office of the chamberlains is to entertain the king, to precede him to his chamber, and to assist in advising him; in truth, they enjoy the greatest consideration throughout the country. They receive large pensions, — six, eight, ten, and eleven thousand francs per year; but some receive nothing, for the king often confers this title upon persons whom he wishes to honor for their services, and even upon foreigners. They have, however, the privilege of being exempt from paying any gabels in any part of the kingdom, and whilst at court they dine at the chamberlains’ table, which is the first after that of the king.

The Grand Equerry always remains near the king; his duty is to supervise the other twelve equerries of the king, the same as the Grand Master of the household, the Grand Seneschal, and the Grand Chamberlain over their subordinates. He has charge of the king’s horses, and aids him in mounting and dismounting. He has charge also of the king’s equipages, and carries the king’s sword before him.

The councillors of state have a pension of from six to eight thousand francs, as may please the king. They are now the Bishop of Paris, the Bishop of Beauvais, the Bailli of Amiens Monseigneur de Bussy, and the Grand Chancellor. But in reality Robertet and the Bishop of Paris govern everything.

Since the death of the Cardinal d’Amboise of Rouen, no one keeps open table. And as the Grand Chancellor has not been replaced, the Bishop of Paris performs the duties of that office.

The reason why the king of France claims the duchy of Milan is that his grandfather had married a daughter of the Duke of Milan who died without male heirs. The Duke Giovanni Galeazzo had two daughters, and I know not how many sons. One of the daughters was Madonna Valentina, who  married the Duke Louis of Orleans, grandfather of the present King Louis XII., descendant of the race of Pepin. When the Duke Giovanni Galeazzo died, he was succeeded by his son Duke Filippo, who died without any legitimate children, leaving only an illegitimate daughter. Thereupon, according to report, the state of Milan was illegally usurped by the Sforzas; for it was said that that state should have gone to the successor and heir of Madonna Valentina. And in fact the day when the Duke of Orleans allied himself with the house of Milan, he joined to his arms of three fleur-de-lis a snake, which may be seen to this day.

Every parish in France keeps one man, who is well paid, and is called the Franc-archer, and who is obliged to keep a good horse, and be fully provided with arms and armor, whenever the king requires him to follow him to the scene of war outside of the kingdom, or for any other cause. These Franc-archers are obliged to go into whatever province in the realm is attacked or threatened. According to the number of parishes, there must be 1,700,000 of these Franc-archers.

The fourriers and quartermasters are obliged by their office to furnish every one that follows the court with lodgings; those who are attached to the court are ordinarily lodged with the well-to-do people of the place. And to prevent any occasion for complaint, either by the owner of the house or the lodger, a tariff of prices has been established, which serves for all alike, and which fixes the price of a chamber at one sou per day; the chamber must be supplied with a bed and a couch, and these must be changed once a week. Besides this, every man pays two farthings per day for the linen; that is to say, table-cloth, towels, napkins, and for vinegar and other condiments. The linen must be changed at least twice per week; but as the people have plenty of linen, they change it more or less frequently, as may be asked by the lodger. The chambers must also be kept clean, and the beds properly made.

The price for stabling each horse is also two sous per day, and the lodger is not bound to pay anything more, except that he must have the manure removed every day. There are a good many who pay less, either because of the good nature of  the proprietor, or the good disposition of the lodger; but the above is the regular tariff for the court.

The reasons for the recent pretensions of the English upon France are the following. Charles VI. married his legitimate daughter Catharine to the legitimate son of the king of England, Henry VI. No mention was made in the contract of Charles VII., who afterwards became king of France. Besides the dowry of Catharine, Charles VI. stipulated that his son-in-law, Henry VI., husband of Catharine, should become heir to the crown of France; and that in case the said Henry VI. should die before his father-in-law, Charles VI., but leave legitimate or natural male children, then these said children of Henry VI. should be the heirs and successors of Charles VI. These dispositions, however, were declared null and contrary to the fundamental law of the kingdom, because of the passing over of Charles VII. by his father. The English, on the other hand, claim that Charles VII. was the fruit of adultery.

In England there are two archbishoprics, 22 bishoprics, and 52,000 parishes.

OF THE NATURE OF THE FRENCH.

They think so much of the present advantage or disadvantage, that they remember but slightly past injuries or benefits, and take little heed of the future, good or evil.

They are cavillers rather than prudent; and care little what is said or written of them. They are more eager for money than for blood, and are liberal only in fine speeches.

If a gentleman disobeys the king in a matter concerning a third person, there is nothing for him to do but to obey anyhow, if it still be in time; and if it is not in time, then he will have to stay away from the court for four months. This has cost us Pisa twice; once when Entraghes held the citadel, and the second time when the French laid siege to the town.

Whoever wishes to carry a point at court must have plenty of money, great activity, and good fortune.

If they are asked to do a favor, their first thought is, not whether they can render the favor, but what advantage they can derive from it for themselves.

The first agreements you make with them are always the best.

If they cannot be useful to you, they make you fine promises; but if they can serve you, they do it with difficulty or never.

In adversity they are abject, and in prosperity they are insolent.

They weave their bad warp well and forcibly.

He who wins victory is for the time most in favor with the king; but he who loses is rarely so. And therefore any one who is about to engage in any undertaking should consider first whether he is likely to succeed or not, and whether it is likely to please the king or not. This point, being well known to the Duke Valentino, enabled him to march with his army upon Florence.

In many instances they are not very particular about their honor, being in this respect very different from the Italian gentlemen; and therefore they attached but little importance to their having sent to Sienna to claim Montepulciano without any attention being paid to their demand.

They are fickle and light-minded, and have faith only in success. They are enemies of the language of the Romans, and of their fame.

Of the Italians none have a good time at court except those who have nothing more to lose, and nothing to hope for.

CONFIDENTIAL INSTRUCTIONS

BY NICCOLO MACHIAVELLI

TO RAFFAELLO GIROLAMI, ON HIS DEPARTURE, 23 OCTOBER, 1522, AS AMBASSADOR TO THE EMPEROR CHARLES V., IN SPAIN.

Honorable Raffaello, —

Embassies are amongst those functions in a republic that confer most honor upon a citizen; and any one incapable of filling such an office cannot be regarded as competent to take part in the government of the state. You are about to go as ambassador to Spain, a country not known to you, and materially differing in manners and customs from those of Italy; and it is moreover the first time that you are charged with such a commission. Thus, if you give good proof of yourself, as everybody hopes and believes, you will derive great honor from it, which will be the greater in proportion to the difficulties which you have to encounter. And as I have some experience in affairs of this kind, I will tell you what I know about them, not from presumption, but simply out of the love I bear to you.

Every honest man knows how to acquit himself faithfully of a mission that has been confided to him; the difficulty is to do it adequately. Now he executes it adequately who knows well the character of the sovereign to whom he is accredited, and that of those who govern him, and who knows best how to adapt himself to whatever may open and facilitate the way for a favorable reception. For difficult as every enterprise is, yet gaining the ear of the sovereign renders it easy. Above all things an ambassador must endeavor to acquire great consideration, which is obtained by acting on every occasion like a good and just man; to have the reputation of being generous and sincere, and to avoid that of being mean and dissembling, and not to be regarded as a man who believes one thing and says another.

This sincerity and this frankness are of great importance; for I know some men who, from being cunning and dissembling, have so entirely lost the confidence of the prince, that they have never more been able to negotiate with him. And yet if it be sometimes necessary to conceal facts with words, then it should be done in such manner that it shall not appear; or should it be observed, then a defence should be promptly ready. Alessandro Nasi was greatly esteemed in France from having the reputation of being sincere; whilst some others, from being regarded as the contrary, were held in great contempt. I believe that you will the more easily observe this line of conduct, as it seems to me that your very nature commands it.

An ambassador will also derive great honor from the information which he communicates to his government; and this embraces three kinds, relating either to matters in course of negotiation, or to matters that are concluded and done, or respecting matters yet to be done; and to conjecture rightly the issue which they are likely to have. Two of these are difficult, but one is most easy. For to know things after they are done is generally speaking most easy, unless it should happen to be that an alliance is being formed between two princes to the detriment of a third party, and that it should be important to keep it secret until the time for divulging it shall have come; as happened with regard to the league between France, the Pope, the Emperor, and Spain, concluded at Cambray, against the Venetians, which resulted in the destruction of the Venetian republic.

It is very difficult to penetrate the secret of such conclusions, and it is therefore necessary to depend upon one’s judgment and conjectures. But to find out all the intrigues, and to conjecture the issue correctly, that is indeed difficult, for you have nothing to depend upon except surmises aided by your own judgment. But as the courts are generally filled with busy-bodies, who are always on the watch to find out what is going on around them, it is very desirable to be on friendly terms with them all, so as to be able to learn something from each one of them. Their good will is readily won by entertaining them with banquets and gaming. I have seen very grave gentlemen who allow gambling in their houses, for the sole purpose of having that class of men coming to see them, so as to be able  to converse with them; for what one does not know another does know, and very often it happens that amongst them all the whole affair is known. But he who wants another to tell him all he knows must in return tell the other some things that he knows, for the best means of obtaining information from others is to communicate some information to them. And therefore if a republic desires that her ambassador shall be honored, they cannot do a better thing than to keep him amply supplied with information; for the men who know that they can draw information from him will hasten to tell him all they know. I suggest to you, therefore, that you remind the Eight, the Archbishop, and the Secretaries to keep you fully advised of all that occurs in Italy, even the smallest item; and if anything of interest happens at Bologna, Sienna, or Perugia, let them inform you of it, and above all let them keep you advised of the affairs of the Pope, of Rome, of Lombardy, and of the kingdom of Naples. And although all these matters have nothing to do with your business, yet it is necessary and useful for you to know them, for the reasons which I have given you above. It is in this way that you have to find out the intrigues that are carried on around you; and as amongst the things you will thus learn some are true and some false, although probable, you must weigh them carefully with your judgment, and take cognizance of those that seem to you the nearest the truth, and not notice the others.

When you thoroughly understand and have examined these matters, you will be able to appreciate their aim and object, and communicate your judgment to your government. But to prevent such judgment on your part from seeming presumptuous, it is well in your despatches, after discussing the intrigues that are being carried on and the men who are engaged in them, to employ phrases something like this: “Considering now all I have written, the shrewd men here judge that it will produce such or such an effect.”

This plan carefully followed has, in my day, done great honor to many ambassadors, whilst the contrary course has brought shame and blame upon them. I have known others, again, who for the purpose of filling their despatches with more information make a daily record of all they hear, and in the course of eight or ten days prepare a despatch from all these notes, taking from the mass of news they have thus gathered  that which seems to them most interesting and likely to be true.

I have also known wise men, who had experience in embassies, adopt the plan of placing before the eyes of their government, at least once in every two months, a complete report of the state and condition of the republic or kingdom to which they are accredited as ambassadors. Such information, when exact, does great honor to him who sends it, and is of greatest advantage to those who receive it; for it is much easier to come to a decision when fully informed upon these points, than when ignorant of them. And to enable you more precisely to understand this part of your duty, I will more fully explain it.

You arrive in Spain, you present and explain your commission and office; and then write home at once and give notice of your arrival at your post, and state what you have communicated to the Emperor, and what reply he has made; leaving it for another letter to give a particular account of the affairs of the kingdom, of the character of the sovereign, and of all that a few days’ stay in the country may have enabled you to report. After that, you must note with the utmost care and industry all that concerns the Emperor and the kingdom of Spain, and you will make a full report upon it. And to come to details, I would say that you must closely observe the character of the man: whether he governs himself, or allows himself to be governed; whether he is avaricious or liberal; whether he loves war or peace; whether he has a passion for glory or for anything else; whether he is beloved by his people; whether he prefers to reside in Spain or in Flanders; what kind of men he has about him as counsellors; whether their thoughts are turned to new enterprises, or whether they are disposed to enjoy their present good fortune, and what authority they have with him; whether he changes them often, or keeps them long; whether the king of France has any friends amongst them, and whether they are likely to be corrupted. And then it will also be well to think of the lords and barons who are most around him; find out what power they have, and how far they are satisfied with him; and in case of their being malcontent, how they could injure him; and whether it be possible for France to corrupt any of them. You must also find out about his brother, how he treats him, whether he is beloved by him, and whether he is content, and whether he could cause trouble  within the kingdom, or in his other states. You must also learn the character of the people, and whether the league that took up arms is altogether quieted, or whether there is any apprehension of their rising up again, and whether France could rekindle that fire.

You must endeavor to penetrate the Emperor’s projects: what his views are as to Italian affairs; whether he aspires to the possession of Lombardy, or whether he intends to leave that state for the Sforzas to enjoy; and whether he desires to come to Rome, and when; what his intentions are with regard to the Church; what confidence he has in the Pope, and whether he is satisfied with him; and, in the event of his coming into Italy, what good or what ill the Florentines may have to hope or fear.

All these points carefully considered and skilfully reported to the government will do you great honor. And not only is it necessary to write it once, but it is well every two or three months to refresh the remembrance of them, adding thereto an account of any new events that may have taken place; but with such skill that it may seem prompted by wisdom and necessity, and not by presumption.

The Historical Works

St. Peter’s Square, Vatican City, Rome — in the early 1500’s Machiavelli carried out several diplomatic missions, most notably to the Papacy in Rome. From 1502 to 1503, he witnessed the brutal reality of the state-building methods of Cesare Borgia (1475–1507) and his father, Pope Alexander VI, who were then engaged in the process of trying to bring a large part of central Italy under their possession.

Portrait of a man traditionally believed to be Cesare Borgia by Altobello Melone, c. 1520

A DESCRIPTION OF THE MANNER IN WHICH DUKE VALENTINO PUT VITELLOZZO VITELLI, OLIVEROTTO DA FERMO, LORD PAGOLA AND THE DUKE OF GRAVINA TO DEATH

Translated by W. K. Marriott

This short text describes the methods used by Cesare Borgia to suppress members of the Orsini family, a princely family of Renaissance Rome. Both Vitellozzo Vitelli and Oliverotto da Fermo were strangled on the night of their arrest on 31 December 1502.

Vitellozzo Vitelli by Luca Signorelli

DESCRIPTION OF THE METHODS ADOPTED BY THE DUKE VALENTINO WHEN MURDERING VITELLOZZO VITELLI, OLIVEROTTO DA FERMO, THE SIGNOR PAGOLO, AND THE DUKE DI

The Duke Valentino had returned from Lombardy, where he had been to clear himself with the King of France from the calumnies which had been raised against him by the Florentines concerning the rebellion of Arezzo and other towns in the Val di Chiana, and had arrived at Imola, whence he intended with his army to enter upon the campaign against Giovanni Bentivogli, the tyrant of Bologna: for he intended to bring that city under his domination, and to make it the head of his Romagnian duchy.

These matters coming to the knowledge of the Vitelli and Orsini and their following, it appeared to them that the duke would become too powerful, and it was feared that, having seized Bologna, he would seek to destroy them in order that he might become supreme in Italy. Upon this a meeting was called at Magione in the district of Perugia, to which came the cardinal, Pagolo, and the Duke di Gravina Orsini, Vitellozzo Vitelli, Oliverotto da Fermo, Gianpagolo Baglioni, the tyrant of Perugia, and Messer Antonio da Venafro, sent by Pandolfo Petrucci, the Prince of Siena. Here were discussed the power and courage of the duke and the necessity of curbing his ambitions, which might otherwise bring danger to the rest of being ruined. And they decided not to abandon the Bentivogli, but to strive to win over the Florentines; and they send their men to one place and another, promising to one party assistance and to another encouragement to unite with them against the common enemy. This meeting was at once reported throughout all Italy, and those who were discontented under the duke, among whom were the people of Urbino, took hope of effecting a revolution.

Thus it arose that, men’s minds being thus unsettled, it was decided by certain men of Urbino to seize the fortress of San Leo, which was held for the duke, and which they captured by the following means. The castellan was fortifying the rock and causing timber to be taken there; so the conspirators watched, and when certain beams which were being carried to the rock were upon the bridge, so that it was prevented from being drawn up by those inside, they took the opportunity of leaping upon the bridge and thence into the fortress. Upon this capture being effected, the whole state rebelled and recalled the old duke, being encouraged in this, not so much by the capture of the fort, as by the Diet at Magione, from whom they expected to get assistance.

Those who heard of the rebellion at Urbino thought they would not lose the opportunity, and at once assembled their men so as to take any town, should any remain in the hands of the duke in that state; and they sent again to Florence to beg that republic to join with them in destroying the common firebrand, showing that the risk was lessened and that they ought not to wait for another opportunity.

But the Florentines, from hatred, for sundry reasons, of the Vitelli and Orsini, not only would not ally themselves, but sent Nicolo Machiavelli, their secretary, to offer shelter and assistance to the duke against his enemies. The duke was found full of fear at Imola, because, against everybody’s expectation, his soldiers had at once gone over to the enemy and he found himself disarmed and war at his door. But recovering courage from the offers of the Florentines, he decided to temporize before fighting with the few soldiers that remained to him, and to negotiate for a reconciliation, and also to get assistance. This latter he obtained in two ways, by sending to the King of France for men and by enlisting men-at-arms and others whom he turned into cavalry of a sort: to all he gave money.

Notwithstanding this, his enemies drew near to him, and approached Fossombrone, where they encountered some men of the duke and, with the aid of the Orsini and Vitelli, routed them. When this happened, the duke resolved at once to see if he could not close the trouble with offers of reconciliation, and being a most perfect dissembler he did not fail in any practices to make the insurgents understand that he wished every man who had acquired anything to keep it, as it was enough for him to have the title of prince, whilst others might have the principality.

And the duke succeeded so well in this that they sent Signor Pagolo to him to negotiate for a reconciliation, and they brought their army to a standstill. But the duke did not stop his preparations, and took every care to provide himself with cavalry and infantry, and that such preparations might not be apparent to the others, he sent his troops in separate parties to every part of the Romagna. In the meanwhile there came also to him five hundred French lancers, and although he found himself sufficiently strong to take vengeance on his enemies in open war, he considered that it would be safer and more advantageous to outwit them, and for this reason he did not stop the work of reconciliation.

And that this might be effected the duke concluded a peace with them in which he confirmed their former covenants; he gave them four thousand ducats at once; he promised not to injure the Bentivogli; and he formed an alliance with Giovanni; and moreover he would not force them to come personally into his presence unless it pleased them to do so. On the other hand, they promised to restore to him the duchy of Urbino and other places seized by them, to serve him in all his expeditions, and not to make war against or ally themselves with any one without his permission.

This reconciliation being completed, Guido Ubaldo, the Duke of Urbino, again fled to Venice, having first destroyed all the fortresses in his state; because, trusting in the people, he did not wish that the fortresses, which he did not think he could defend, should be held by the enemy, since by these means a check would be kept upon his friends. But the Duke Valentino, having completed this convention, and dispersed his men throughout the Romagna, set out for Imola at the end of November together with his French men-at-arms: thence he went to Cesena, where he stayed some time to negotiate with the envoys of the Vitelli and Orsini, who had assembled with their men in the duchy of Urbino, as to the enterprise in which they should now take part; but nothing being concluded, Oliverotto da Fermo was sent to propose that if the duke wished to undertake an expedition against Tuscany they were ready; if he did not wish it, then they would besiege Sinigalia. To this the duke replied that he did not wish to enter into war with Tuscany, and thus become hostile to the Florentines, but that he was very willing to proceed against Sinigalia.

It happened that not long afterwards the town surrendered, but the fortress would not yield to them because the castellan would not give it up to any one but the duke in person; therefore they exhorted him to come there. This appeared a good opportunity to the duke, as, being invited by them, and not going of his own will, he would awaken no suspicions. And the more to reassure them, he allowed all the French men-at-arms who were with him in Lombardy to depart, except the hundred lancers under Mons. di Candales, his brother-in-law. He left Cesena about the middle of December, and went to Fano, and with the utmost cunning and cleverness he persuaded the Vitelli and Orsini to wait for him at Sinigalia, pointing out to them that any lack of compliance would cast a doubt upon the sincerity and permanency of the reconciliation, and that he was a man who wished to make use of the arms and councils of his friends. But Vitellozzo remained very stubborn, for the death of his brother warned him that he should not offend a prince and afterwards trust him; nevertheless, persuaded by Pagolo Orsini, whom the duke had corrupted with gifts and promises, he agreed to wait.

Upon this the duke, before his departure from Fano, which was to be on 30th December 1502, communicated his designs to eight of his most trusted followers, among whom were Don Michele and the Monsignor d’Euna, who was afterwards cardinal; and he ordered that, as soon as Vitellozzo, Pagolo Orsini, the Duke di Gravina, and Oliverotto should arrive, his followers in pairs should take them one by one, entrusting certain men to certain pairs, who should entertain them until they reached Sinigalia; nor should they be permitted to leave until they came to the duke’s quarters, where they should be seized.

The duke afterwards ordered all his horsemen and infantry, of which there were more than two thousand cavalry and ten thousand footmen, to assemble by daybreak at the Metauro, a river five miles distant from Fano, and await him there. He found himself, therefore, on the last day of December at the Metauro with his men, and having sent a cavalcade of about two hundred horsemen before him, he then moved forward the infantry, whom he accompanied with the rest of the men-at-arms.

Fano and Sinigalia are two cities of La Marca situate on the shore of the Adriatic Sea, fifteen miles distant from each other, so that he who goes towards Sinigalia has the mountains on his right hand, the bases of which are touched by the sea in some places. The city of Sinigalia is distant from the foot of the mountains a little more than a bow-shot and from the shore about a mile. On the side opposite to the city runs a little river which bathes that part of the walls looking towards Fano, facing the high road. Thus he who draws near to Sinigalia comes for a good space by road along the mountains, and reaches the river which passes by Sinigalia. If he turns to his left hand along the bank of it, and goes for the distance of a bow-shot, he arrives at a bridge which crosses the river; he is then almost abreast of the gate that leads into Sinigalia, not by a straight line, but transversely. Before this gate there stands a collection of houses with a square to which the bank of the river forms one side.

The Vitelli and Orsini having received orders to wait for the duke, and to honour him in person, sent away their men to several castles distant from Sinigalia about six miles, so that room could be made for the men of the duke; and they left in Sinigalia only Oliverotto and his band, which consisted of one thousand infantry and one hundred and fifty horsemen, who were quartered in the suburb mentioned above. Matters having been thus arranged, the Duke Valentino left for Sinigalia, and when the leaders of the cavalry reached the bridge they did not pass over, but having opened it, one portion wheeled towards the river and the other towards the country, and a way was left in the middle through which the infantry passed, without stopping, into the town.

Vitellozzo, Pagolo, and the Duke di Gravina on mules, accompanied by a few horsemen, went towards the duke; Vitellozo, unarmed and wearing a cape lined with green, appeared very dejected, as if conscious of his approaching death — a circumstance which, in view of the ability of the man and his former fortune, caused some amazement. And it is said that when he parted from his men before setting out for Sinigalia to meet the duke he acted as if it were his last parting from them. He recommended his house and its fortunes to his captains, and advised his nephews that it was not the fortune of their house, but the virtues of their fathers that should be kept in mind. These three, therefore, came before the duke and saluted him respectfully, and were received by him with goodwill; they were at once placed between those who were commissioned to look after them.

But the duke noticing that Oliverotto, who had remained with his band in Sinigalia, was missing — for Oliverotto was waiting in the square before his quarters near the river, keeping his men in order and drilling them — signalled with his eye to Don Michelle, to whom the care of Oliverotto had been committed, that he should take measures that Oliverotto should not escape. Therefore Don Michele rode off and joined Oliverotto, telling him that it was not right to keep his men out of their quarters, because these might be taken up by the men of the duke; and he advised him to send them at once to their quarters and to come himself to meet the duke. And Oliverotto, having taken this advice, came before the duke, who, when he saw him, called to him; and Oliverotto, having made his obeisance, joined the others.

So the whole party entered Sinigalia, dismounted at the duke’s quarters, and went with him into a secret chamber, where the duke made them prisoners; he then mounted on horseback, and issued orders that the men of Oliverotto and the Orsini should be stripped of their arms. Those of Oliverotto, being at hand, were quickly settled, but those of the Orsini and Vitelli, being at a distance, and having a presentiment of the destruction of their masters, had time to prepare themselves, and bearing in mind the valour and discipline of the Orsinian and Vitellian houses, they stood together against the hostile forces of the country and saved themselves.

But the duke’s soldiers, not being content with having pillaged the men of Oliverotto, began to sack Sinigalia, and if the duke had not repressed this outrage by killing some of them they would have completely sacked it. Night having come and the tumult being silenced, the duke prepared to kill Vitellozzo and Oliverotto; he led them into a room and caused them to be strangled. Neither of them used words in keeping with their past lives: Vitellozzo prayed that he might ask of the pope full pardon for his sins; Oliverotto cringed and laid the blame for all injuries against the duke on Vitellozzo. Pagolo and the Duke di Gravina Orsini were kept alive until the duke heard from Rome that the pope had taken the Cardinal Orsino, the Archbishop of Florence, and Messer Jacopo da Santa Croce. After which news, on 18th January 1502, in the castle of Pieve, they also were strangled in the same way.

THE LIFE OF CASTRUCCIO CASTRACANI OF LUCCA

Translated by W. K. Marriott

Composed in the form of a short biographical account of the life of the medieval Tuscan condottiere, Castruccio Castracani, who lived in and ruled Lucca, this short text is thought to have been written during a visit to Lucca in 1520. It was dedicated to Zanobi Buondelmonti and Luigi Alamanni. The former was also one of the two men to whom the Discourses on Livy was dedicated. Though adopting the form of a biography, the sayings of Castracani are now generally believed to have been fabricated by Machiavelli. It is therefore sometimes compared to his more well-known works including The Prince, the Discourses on Livy and The Art of War.

Machiavelli treats Castracani as a man that sought to unite Tuscany, but who failed since “Fortune, who is admitted to be arbiter of all human things, did not give me so much judgement that I could early understand her, nor so much time that I could overcome her”. This proposal that leaders can overcome the arbiter of all things is a common theme in The Prince. By treating Castracani as a founder of a new state, Machiavelli employs him as an example of the most important type of prince according to his political philosophy.

Supposed portrait of Castruccio Castracani at Pisa, Campo Santo

THE LIFE OF CASTRUCCIO CASTRACANI OF LUCCA

WRITTEN BY NICOLO MACHIAVELLI

AND SENT TO HIS FRIENDS ZANOBI BUONDELMONTI AND LUIGI ALAMANNI

CASTRUCCIO CASTRACANI 1284-1328

It appears, dearest Zanobi and Luigi, a wonderful thing to those who have considered the matter, that all men, or the larger number of them, who have performed great deeds in the world, and excelled all others in their day, have had their birth and beginning in baseness and obscurity; or have been aggrieved by Fortune in some outrageous way. They have either been exposed to the mercy of wild beasts, or they have had so mean a parentage that in shame they have given themselves out to be sons of Jove or of some other deity. It would be wearisome to relate who these persons may have been because they are well known to everybody, and, as such tales would not be particularly edifying to those who read them, they are omitted. I believe that these lowly beginnings of great men occur because Fortune is desirous of showing to the world that such men owe much to her and little to wisdom, because she begins to show her hand when wisdom can really take no part in their career: thus all success must be attributed to her. Castruccio Castracani of Lucca was one of those men who did great deeds, if he is measured by the times in which he lived and the city in which he was born; but, like many others, he was neither fortunate nor distinguished in his birth, as the course of this history will show. It appeared to be desirable to recall his memory, because I have discerned in him such indications of valour and fortune as should make him a great exemplar to men. I think also that I ought to call your attention to his actions, because you of all men I know delight most in noble deeds.

The family of Castracani was formerly numbered among the noble families of Lucca, but in the days of which I speak it had somewhat fallen in estate, as so often happens in this world. To this family was born a son Antonio, who became a priest of the order of San Michele of Lucca, and for this reason was honoured with the title of Messer Antonio. He had an only sister, who had been married to Buonaccorso Cenami, but Buonaccorso dying she became a widow, and not wishing to marry again went to live with her brother. Messer Antonio had a vineyard behind the house where he resided, and as it was bounded on all sides by gardens, any person could have access to it without difficulty. One morning, shortly after sunrise, Madonna Dianora, as the sister of Messer Antonio was called, had occasion to go into the vineyard as usual to gather herbs for seasoning the dinner, and hearing a slight rustling among the leaves of a vine she turned her eyes in that direction, and heard something resembling the cry of an infant. Whereupon she went towards it, and saw the hands and face of a baby who was lying enveloped in the leaves and who seemed to be crying for its mother. Partly wondering and partly fearing, yet full of compassion, she lifted it up and carried it to the house, where she washed it and clothed it with clean linen as is customary, and showed it to Messer Antonio when he returned home. When he heard what had happened and saw the child he was not less surprised or compassionate than his sister. They discussed between themselves what should be done, and seeing that he was priest and that she had no children, they finally determined to bring it up. They had a nurse for it, and it was reared and loved as if it were their own child. They baptized it, and gave it the name of Castruccio after their father. As the years passed Castruccio grew very handsome, and gave evidence of wit and discretion, and learnt with a quickness beyond his years those lessons which Messer Antonio imparted to him. Messer Antonio intended to make a priest of him, and in time would have inducted him into his canonry and other benefices, and all his instruction was given with this object; but Antonio discovered that the character of Castruccio was quite unfitted for the priesthood. As soon as Castruccio reached the age of fourteen he began to take less notice of the chiding of Messer Antonio and Madonna Dianora and no longer to fear them; he left off reading ecclesiastical books, and turned to playing with arms, delighting in nothing so much as in learning their uses, and in running, leaping, and wrestling with other boys. In all exercises he far excelled his companions in courage and bodily strength, and if at any time he did turn to books, only those pleased him which told of wars and the mighty deeds of men. Messer Antonio beheld all this with vexation and sorrow.

There lived in the city of Lucca a gentleman of the Guinigi family, named Messer Francesco, whose profession was arms and who in riches, bodily strength, and valour excelled all other men in Lucca. He had often fought under the command of the Visconti of Milan, and as a Ghibelline was the valued leader of that party in Lucca. This gentleman resided in Lucca and was accustomed to assemble with others most mornings and evenings under the balcony of the Podesta, which is at the top of the square of San Michele, the finest square in Lucca, and he had often seen Castruccio taking part with other children of the street in those games of which I have spoken. Noticing that Castruccio far excelled the other boys, and that he appeared to exercise a royal authority over them, and that they loved and obeyed him, Messer Francesco became greatly desirous of learning who he was. Being informed of the circumstances of the bringing up of Castruccio he felt a greater desire to have him near to him. Therefore he called him one day and asked him whether he would more willingly live in the house of a gentleman, where he would learn to ride horses and use arms, or in the house of a priest, where he would learn nothing but masses and the services of the Church. Messer Francesco could see that it pleased Castruccio greatly to hear horses and arms spoken of, even though he stood silent, blushing modestly; but being encouraged by Messer Francesco to speak, he answered that, if his master were agreeable, nothing would please him more than to give up his priestly studies and take up those of a soldier. This reply delighted Messer Francesco, and in a very short time he obtained the consent of Messer Antonio, who was driven to yield by his knowledge of the nature of the lad, and the fear that he would not be able to hold him much longer.

Thus Castruccio passed from the house of Messer Antonio the priest to the house of Messer Francesco Guinigi the soldier, and it was astonishing to find that in a very short time he manifested all that virtue and bearing which we are accustomed to associate with a true gentleman. In the first place he became an accomplished horseman, and could manage with ease the most fiery charger, and in all jousts and tournaments, although still a youth, he was observed beyond all others, and he excelled in all exercises of strength and dexterity. But what enhanced so much the charm of these accomplishments, was the delightful modesty which enabled him to avoid offence in either act or word to others, for he was deferential to the great men, modest with his equals, and courteous to his inferiors. These gifts made him beloved, not only by all the Guinigi family, but by all Lucca. When Castruccio had reached his eighteenth year, the Ghibellines were driven from Pavia by the Guelphs, and Messer Francesco was sent by the Visconti to assist the Ghibellines, and with him went Castruccio, in charge of his forces. Castruccio gave ample proof of his prudence and courage in this expedition, acquiring greater reputation than any other captain, and his name and fame were known, not only in Pavia, but throughout all Lombardy.

Castruccio, having returned to Lucca in far higher estimation that he left it, did not omit to use all the means in his power to gain as many friends as he could, neglecting none of those arts which are necessary for that purpose. About this time Messer Francesco died, leaving a son thirteen years of age named Pagolo, and having appointed Castruccio to be his son’s tutor and administrator of his estate. Before he died Francesco called Castruccio to him, and prayed him to show Pagolo that goodwill which he (Francesco) had always shown to HIM, and to render to the son the gratitude which he had not been able to repay to the father. Upon the death of Francesco, Castruccio became the governor and tutor of Pagolo, which increased enormously his power and position, and created a certain amount of envy against him in Lucca in place of the former universal goodwill, for many men suspected him of harbouring tyrannical intentions. Among these the leading man was Giorgio degli Opizi, the head of the Guelph party. This man hoped after the death of Messer Francesco to become the chief man in Lucca, but it seemed to him that Castruccio, with the great abilities which he already showed, and holding the position of governor, deprived him of his opportunity; therefore he began to sow those seeds which should rob Castruccio of his eminence. Castruccio at first treated this with scorn, but afterwards he grew alarmed, thinking that Messer Giorgio might be able to bring him into disgrace with the deputy of King Ruberto of Naples and have him driven out of Lucca.

The Lord of Pisa at that time was Uguccione of the Faggiuola of Arezzo, who being in the first place elected their captain afterwards became their lord. There resided in Paris some exiled Ghibellines from Lucca, with whom Castruccio held communications with the object of effecting their restoration by the help of Uguccione. Castruccio also brought into his plans friends from Lucca who would not endure the authority of the Opizi. Having fixed upon a plan to be followed, Castruccio cautiously fortified the tower of the Onesti, filling it with supplies and munitions of war, in order that it might stand a siege for a few days in case of need. When the night came which had been agreed upon with Uguccione, who had occupied the plain between the mountains and Pisa with many men, the signal was given, and without being observed Uguccione approached the gate of San Piero and set fire to the portcullis. Castruccio raised a great uproar within the city, calling the people to arms and forcing open the gate from his side. Uguccione entered with his men, poured through the town, and killed Messer Giorgio with all his family and many of his friends and supporters. The governor was driven out, and the government reformed according to the wishes of Uguccione, to the detriment of the city, because it was found that more than one hundred families were exiled at that time. Of those who fled, part went to Florence and part to Pistoia, which city was the headquarters of the Guelph party, and for this reason it became most hostile to Uguccione and the Lucchese.

As it now appeared to the Florentines and others of the Guelph party that the Ghibellines absorbed too much power in Tuscany, they determined to restore the exiled Guelphs to Lucca. They assembled a large army in the Val di Nievole, and seized Montecatini; from thence they marched to Montecarlo, in order to secure the free passage into Lucca. Upon this Uguccione assembled his Pisan and Lucchese forces, and with a number of German cavalry which he drew out of Lombardy, he moved against the quarters of the Florentines, who upon the appearance of the enemy withdrew from Montecarlo, and posted themselves between Montecatini and Pescia. Uguccione now took up a position near to Montecarlo, and within about two miles of the enemy, and slight skirmishes between the horse of both parties were of daily occurrence. Owing to the illness of Uguccione, the Pisans and Lucchese delayed coming to battle with the enemy. Uguccione, finding himself growing worse, went to Montecarlo to be cured, and left the command of the army in the hands of Castruccio. This change brought about the ruin of the Guelphs, who, thinking that the hostile army having lost its captain had lost its head, grew over-confident. Castruccio observed this, and allowed some days to pass in order to encourage this belief; he also showed signs of fear, and did not allow any of the munitions of the camp to be used. On the other side, the Guelphs grew more insolent the more they saw these evidences of fear, and every day they drew out in the order of battle in front of the army of Castruccio. Presently, deeming that the enemy was sufficiently emboldened, and having mastered their tactics, he decided to join battle with them. First he spoke a few words of encouragement to his soldiers, and pointed out to them the certainty of victory if they would but obey his commands. Castruccio had noticed how the enemy had placed all his best troops in the centre of the line of battle, and his less reliable men on the wings of the army; whereupon he did exactly the opposite, putting his most valiant men on the flanks, while those on whom he could not so strongly rely he moved to the centre. Observing this order of battle, he drew out of his lines and quickly came in sight of the hostile army, who, as usual, had come in their insolence to defy him. He then commanded his centre squadrons to march slowly, whilst he moved rapidly forward those on the wings. Thus, when they came into contact with the enemy, only the wings of the two armies became engaged, whilst the center battalions remained out of action, for these two portions of the line of battle were separated from each other by a long interval and thus unable to reach each other. By this expedient the more valiant part of Castruccio’s men were opposed to the weaker part of the enemy’s troops, and the most efficient men of the enemy were disengaged; and thus the Florentines were unable to fight with those who were arrayed opposite to them, or to give any assistance to their own flanks. So, without much difficulty, Castruccio put the enemy to flight on both flanks, and the centre battalions took to flight when they found themselves exposed to attack, without having a chance of displaying their valour. The defeat was complete, and the loss in men very heavy, there being more than ten thousand men killed with many officers and knights of the Guelph party in Tuscany, and also many princes who had come to help them, among whom were Piero, the brother of King Ruberto, and Carlo, his nephew, and Filippo, the lord of Taranto. On the part of Castruccio the loss did not amount to more than three hundred men, among whom was Francesco, the son of Uguccione, who, being young and rash, was killed in the first onset.

This victory so greatly increased the reputation of Castruccio that Uguccione conceived some jealousy and suspicion of him, because it appeared to Uguccione that this victory had given him no increase of power, but rather than diminished it. Being of this mind, he only waited for an opportunity to give effect to it. This occurred on the death of Pier Agnolo Micheli, a man of great repute and abilities in Lucca, the murderer of whom fled to the house of Castruccio for refuge. On the sergeants of the captain going to arrest the murderer, they were driven off by Castruccio, and the murderer escaped. This affair coming to the knowledge of Uguccione, who was than at Pisa, it appeared to him a proper opportunity to punish Castruccio. He therefore sent for his son Neri, who was the governor of Lucca, and commissioned him to take Castruccio prisoner at a banquet and put him to death. Castruccio, fearing no evil, went to the governor in a friendly way, was entertained at supper, and then thrown into prison. But Neri, fearing to put him to death lest the people should be incensed, kept him alive, in order to hear further from his father concerning his intentions. Ugucionne cursed the hesitation and cowardice of his son, and at once set out from Pisa to Lucca with four hundred horsemen to finish the business in his own way; but he had not yet reached the baths when the Pisans rebelled and put his deputy to death and created Count Gaddo della Gherardesca their lord. Before Uguccione reached Lucca he heard of the occurrences at Pisa, but it did not appear wise to him to turn back, lest the Lucchese with the example of Pisa before them should close their gates against him. But the Lucchese, having heard of what had happened at Pisa, availed themselves of this opportunity to demand the liberation of Castruccio, notwithstanding that Uguccione had arrived in their city. They first began to speak of it in private circles, afterwards openly in the squares and streets; then they raised a tumult, and with arms in their hands went to Uguccione and demanded that Castruccio should be set at liberty. Uguccione, fearing that worse might happen, released him from prison. Whereupon Castruccio gathered his friends around him, and with the help of the people attacked Uguccione; who, finding he had no resource but in flight, rode away with his friends to Lombardy, to the lords of Scale, where he died in poverty.

But Castruccio from being a prisoner became almost a prince in Lucca, and he carried himself so discreetly with his friends and the people that they appointed him captain of their army for one year. Having obtained this, and wishing to gain renown in war, he planned the recovery of the many towns which had rebelled after the departure of Uguccione, and with the help of the Pisans, with whom he had concluded a treaty, he marched to Serezzana. To capture this place he constructed a fort against it, which is called to-day Zerezzanello; in the course of two months Castruccio captured the town. With the reputation gained at that siege, he rapidly seized Massa, Carrara, and Lavenza, and in a short time had overrun the whole of Lunigiana. In order to close the pass which leads from Lombardy to Lunigiana, he besieged Pontremoli and wrested it from the hands of Messer Anastagio Palavicini, who was the lord of it. After this victory he returned to Lucca, and was welcomed by the whole people. And now Castruccio, deeming it imprudent any longer to defer making himself a prince, got himself created the lord of Lucca by the help of Pazzino del Poggio, Puccinello dal Portico, Francesco Boccansacchi, and Cecco Guinigi, all of whom he had corrupted; and he was afterwards solemnly and deliberately elected prince by the people. At this time Frederick of Bavaria, the King of the Romans, came into Italy to assume the Imperial crown, and Castruccio, in order that he might make friends with him, met him at the head of five hundred horsemen. Castruccio had left as his deputy in Lucca, Pagolo Guinigi, who was held in high estimation, because of the people’s love for the memory of his father. Castruccio was received in great honour by Frederick, and many privileges were conferred upon him, and he was appointed the emperor’s lieutenant in Tuscany. At this time the Pisans were in great fear of Gaddo della Gherardesca, whom they had driven out of Pisa, and they had recourse for assistance to Frederick. Frederick created Castruccio the lord of Pisa, and the Pisans, in dread of the Guelph party, and particularly of the Florentines, were constrained to accept him as their lord.

Frederick, having appointed a governor in Rome to watch his Italian affairs, returned to Germany. All the Tuscan and Lombardian Ghibellines, who followed the imperial lead, had recourse to Castruccio for help and counsel, and all promised him the governorship of his country, if enabled to recover it with his assistance. Among these exiles were Matteo Guidi, Nardo Scolari, Lapo Uberti, Gerozzo Nardi, and Piero Buonaccorsi, all exiled Florentines and Ghibellines. Castruccio had the secret intention of becoming the master of all Tuscany by the aid of these men and of his own forces; and in order to gain greater weight in affairs, he entered into a league with Messer Matteo Visconti, the Prince of Milan, and organized for him the forces of his city and the country districts. As Lucca had five gates, he divided his own country districts into five parts, which he supplied with arms, and enrolled the men under captains and ensigns, so that he could quickly bring into the field twenty thousand soldiers, without those whom he could summon to his assistance from Pisa. While he surrounded himself with these forces and allies, it happened at Messer Matteo Visconti was attacked by the Guelphs of Piacenza, who had driven out the Ghibellines with the assistance of a Florentine army and the King Ruberto. Messer Matteo called upon Castruccio to invade the Florentines in their own territories, so that, being attacked at home, they should be compelled to draw their army out of Lombardy in order to defend themselves. Castruccio invaded the Valdarno, and seized Fucecchio and San Miniato, inflicting immense damage upon the country. Whereupon the Florentines recalled their army, which had scarcely reached Tuscany, when Castruccio was forced by other necessities to return to Lucca.

There resided in the city of Lucca the Poggio family, who were so powerful that they could not only elevate Castruccio, but even advance him to the dignity of prince; and it appearing to them they had not received such rewards for their services as they deserved, they incited other families to rebel and to drive Castruccio out of Lucca. They found their opportunity one morning, and arming themselves, they set upon the lieutenant whom Castruccio had left to maintain order and killed him. They endeavoured to raise the people in revolt, but Stefano di Poggio, a peaceable old man who had taken no hand in the rebellion, intervened and compelled them by his authority to lay down their arms; and he offered to be their mediator with Castruccio to obtain from him what they desired. Therefore they laid down their arms with no greater intelligence than they had taken them up. Castruccio, having heard the news of what had happened at Lucca, at once put Pagolo Guinigi in command of the army, and with a troop of cavalry set out for home. Contrary to his expectations, he found the rebellion at an end, yet he posted his men in the most advantageous places throughout the city. As it appeared to Stefano that Castruccio ought to be very much obliged to him, he sought him out, and without saying anything on his own behalf, for he did not recognize any need for doing so, he begged Castruccio to pardon the other members of his family by reason of their youth, their former friendships, and the obligations which Castruccio was under to their house. To this Castruccio graciously responded, and begged Stefano to reassure himself, declaring that it gave him more pleasure to find the tumult at an end than it had ever caused him anxiety to hear of its inception. He encouraged Stefano to bring his family to him, saying that he thanked God for having given him the opportunity of showing his clemency and liberality. Upon the word of Stefano and Castruccio they surrendered, and with Stefano were immediately thrown into prison and put to death. Meanwhile the Florentines had recovered San Miniato, whereupon it seemed advisable to Castruccio to make peace, as it did not appear to him that he was sufficiently secure at Lucca to leave him. He approached the Florentines with the proposal of a truce, which they readily entertained, for they were weary of the war, and desirous of getting rid of the expenses of it. A treaty was concluded with them for two years, by which both parties agreed to keep the conquests they had made. Castruccio thus released from this trouble, turned his attention to affairs in Lucca, and in order that he should not again be subject to the perils from which he had just escaped, he, under various pretences and reasons, first wiped out all those who by their ambition might aspire to the principality; not sparing one of them, but depriving them of country and property, and those whom he had in his hands of life also, stating that he had found by experience that none of them were to be trusted. Then for his further security he raised a fortress in Lucca with the stones of the towers of those whom he had killed or hunted out of the state.

Whilst Castruccio made peace with the Florentines, and strengthened his position in Lucca, he neglected no opportunity, short of open war, of increasing his importance elsewhere. It appeared to him that if he could get possession of Pistoia, he would have one foot in Florence, which was his great desire. He, therefore, in various ways made friends with the mountaineers, and worked matters so in Pistoia that both parties confided their secrets to him. Pistoia was divided, as it always had been, into the Bianchi and Neri parties; the head of the Bianchi was Bastiano di Possente, and of the Neri, Jacopo da Gia. Each of these men held secret communications with Castruccio, and each desired to drive the other out of the city; and, after many threatenings, they came to blows. Jacopo fortified himself at the Florentine gate, Bastiano at that of the Lucchese side of the city; both trusted more in Castruccio than in the Florentines, because they believed that Castruccio was far more ready and willing to fight than the Florentines, and they both sent to him for assistance. He gave promises to both, saying to Bastiano that he would come in person, and to Jacopo that he would send his pupil, Pagolo Guinigi. At the appointed time he sent forward Pagolo by way of Pisa, and went himself direct to Pistoia; at midnight both of them met outside the city, and both were admitted as friends. Thus the two leaders entered, and at a signal given by Castruccio, one killed Jacopo da Gia, and the other Bastiano di Possente, and both took prisoners or killed the partisans of either faction. Without further opposition Pistoia passed into the hands of Castruccio, who, having forced the Signoria to leave the palace, compelled the people to yield obedience to him, making them many promises and remitting their old debts. The countryside flocked to the city to see the new prince, and all were filled with hope and quickly settled down, influenced in a great measure by his great valour.

About this time great disturbances arose in Rome, owing to the dearness of living which was caused by the absence of the pontiff at Avignon. The German governor, Enrico, was much blamed for what happened — murders and tumults following each other daily, without his being able to put an end to them. This caused Enrico much anxiety lest the Romans should call in Ruberto, the King of Naples, who would drive the Germans out of the city, and bring back the Pope. Having no nearer friend to whom he could apply for help than Castruccio, he sent to him, begging him not only to give him assistance, but also to come in person to Rome. Castruccio considered that he ought not to hesitate to render the emperor this service, because he believed that he himself would not be safe if at any time the emperor ceased to hold Rome. Leaving Pagolo Guinigi in command at Lucca, Castruccio set out for Rome with six hundred horsemen, where he was received by Enrico with the greatest distinction. In a short time the presence of Castruccio obtained such respect for the emperor that, without bloodshed or violence, good order was restored, chiefly by reason of Castruccio having sent by sea from the country round Pisa large quantities of corn, and thus removed the source of the trouble. When he had chastised some of the Roman leaders, and admonished others, voluntary obedience was rendered to Enrico. Castruccio received many honours, and was made a Roman senator. This dignity was assumed with the greatest pomp, Castruccio being clothed in a brocaded toga, which had the following words embroidered on its front: “I am what God wills.” Whilst on the back was: “What God desires shall be.”

During this time the Florentines, who were much enraged that Castruccio should have seized Pistoia during the truce, considered how they could tempt the city to rebel, to do which they thought would not be difficult in his absence. Among the exiled Pistoians in Florence were Baldo Cecchi and Jacopo Baldini, both men of leading and ready to face danger. These men kept up communications with their friends in Pistoia, and with the aid of the Florentines entered the city by night, and after driving out some of Castruccio’s officials and partisans, and killing others, they restored the city to its freedom. The news of this greatly angered Castruccio, and taking leave of Enrico, he pressed on in great haste to Pistoia. When the Florentines heard of his return, knowing that he would lose no time, they decided to intercept him with their forces in the Val di Nievole, under the belief that by doing so they would cut off his road to Pistoia. Assembling a great army of the supporters of the Guelph cause, the Florentines entered the Pistoian territories. On the other hand, Castruccio reached Montecarlo with his army; and having heard where the Florentines’ lay, he decided not to encounter it in the plains of Pistoia, nor to await it in the plains of Pescia, but, as far as he possibly could, to attack it boldly in the Pass of Serravalle. He believed that if he succeeded in this design, victory was assured, although he was informed that the Florentines had thirty thousand men, whilst he had only twelve thousand. Although he had every confidence in his own abilities and the valour of his troops, yet he hesitated to attack his enemy in the open lest he should be overwhelmed by numbers. Serravalle is a castle between Pescia and Pistoia, situated on a hill which blocks the Val di Nievole, not in the exact pass, but about a bowshot beyond; the pass itself is in places narrow and steep, whilst in general it ascends gently, but is still narrow, especially at the summit where the waters divide, so that twenty men side by side could hold it. The lord of Serravalle was Manfred, a German, who, before Castruccio became lord of Pistoia, had been allowed to remain in possession of the castle, it being common to the Lucchese and the Pistoians, and unclaimed by either — neither of them wishing to displace Manfred as long as he kept his promise of neutrality, and came under obligations to no one. For these reasons, and also because the castle was well fortified, he had always been able to maintain his position. It was here that Castruccio had determined to fall upon his enemy, for here his few men would have the advantage, and there was no fear lest, seeing the large masses of the hostile force before they became engaged, they should not stand. As soon as this trouble with Florence arose, Castruccio saw the immense advantage which possession of this castle would give him, and having an intimate friendship with a resident in the castle, he managed matters so with him that four hundred of his men were to be admitted into the castle the night before the attack on the Florentines, and the castellan put to death.

Castruccio, having prepared everything, had now to encourage the Florentines to persist in their desire to carry the seat of war away from Pistoia into the Val di Nievole, therefore he did not move his army from Montecarlo. Thus the Florentines hurried on until they reached their encampment under Serravalle, intending to cross the hill on the following morning. In the meantime, Castruccio had seized the castle at night, had also moved his army from Montecarlo, and marching from thence at midnight in dead silence, had reached the foot of Serravalle: thus he and the Florentines commenced the ascent of the hill at the same time in the morning. Castruccio sent forward his infantry by the main road, and a troop of four hundred horsemen by a path on the left towards the castle. The Florentines sent forward four hundred cavalry ahead of their army which was following, never expecting to find Castruccio in possession of the hill, nor were they aware of his having seized the castle. Thus it happened that the Florentine horsemen mounting the hill were completely taken by surprise when they discovered the infantry of Castruccio, and so close were they upon it they had scarcely time to pull down their visors. It was a case of unready soldiers being attacked by ready, and they were assailed with such vigour that with difficulty they could hold their own, although some few of them got through. When the noise of the fighting reached the Florentine camp below, it was filled with confusion. The cavalry and infantry became inextricably mixed: the captains were unable to get their men either backward or forward, owing to the narrowness of the pass, and amid all this tumult no one knew what ought to be done or what could be done. In a short time the cavalry who were engaged with the enemy’s infantry were scattered or killed without having made any effective defence because of their unfortunate position, although in sheer desperation they had offered a stout resistance. Retreat had been impossible, with the mountains on both flanks, whilst in front were their enemies, and in the rear their friends. When Castruccio saw that his men were unable to strike a decisive blow at the enemy and put them to flight, he sent one thousand infantrymen round by the castle, with orders to join the four hundred horsemen he had previously dispatched there, and commanded the whole force to fall upon the flank of the enemy. These orders they carried out with such fury that the Florentines could not sustain the attack, but gave way, and were soon in full retreat — conquered more by their unfortunate position than by the valour of their enemy. Those in the rear turned towards Pistoia, and spread through the plains, each man seeking only his own safety. The defeat was complete and very sanguinary. Many captains were taken prisoners, among whom were Bandini dei Rossi, Francesco Brunelleschi, and Giovanni della Tosa, all Florentine noblemen, with many Tuscans and Neapolitans who fought on the Florentine side, having been sent by King Ruberto to assist the Guelphs. Immediately the Pistoians heard of this defeat they drove out the friends of the Guelphs, and surrendered to Castruccio. He was not content with occupying Prato and all the castles on the plains on both sides of the Arno, but marched his army into the plain of Peretola, about two miles from Florence. Here he remained many days, dividing the spoils, and celebrating his victory with feasts and games, holding horse races, and foot races for men and women. He also struck medals in commemoration of the defeat of the Florentines. He endeavoured to corrupt some of the citizens of Florence, who were to open the city gates at night; but the conspiracy was discovered, and the participators in it taken and beheaded, among whom were Tommaso Lupacci and Lambertuccio Frescobaldi. This defeat caused the Florentines great anxiety, and despairing of preserving their liberty, they sent envoys to King Ruberto of Naples, offering him the dominion of their city; and he, knowing of what immense importance the maintenance of the Guelph cause was to him, accepted it. He agreed with the Florentines to receive from them a yearly tribute of two hundred thousand florins, and he send his son Carlo to Florence with four thousand horsemen.

Shortly after this the Florentines were relieved in some degree of the pressure of Castruccio’s army, owing to his being compelled to leave his positions before Florence and march on Pisa, in order to suppress a conspiracy that had been raised against him by Benedetto Lanfranchi, one of the first men in Pisa, who could not endure that his fatherland should be under the dominion of the Lucchese. He had formed this conspiracy, intending to seize the citadel, kill the partisans of Castruccio, and drive out the garrison. As, however, in a conspiracy paucity of numbers is essential to secrecy, so for its execution a few are not sufficient, and in seeking more adherents to his conspiracy Lanfranchi encountered a person who revealed the design to Castruccio. This betrayal cannot be passed by without severe reproach to Bonifacio Cerchi and Giovanni Guidi, two Florentine exiles who were suffering their banishment in Pisa. Thereupon Castruccio seized Benedetto and put him to death, and beheaded many other noble citizens, and drove their families into exile. It now appeared to Castruccio that both Pisa and Pistoia were thoroughly disaffected; he employed much thought and energy upon securing his position there, and this gave the Florentines their opportunity to reorganize their army, and to await the coming of Carlo, the son of the King of Naples. When Carlo arrived they decided to lose no more time, and assembled a great army of more than thirty thousand infantry and ten thousand cavalry — having called to their aid every Guelph there was in Italy. They consulted whether they should attack Pistoia or Pisa first, and decided that it would be better to march on the latter — a course, owing to the recent conspiracy, more likely to succeed, and of more advantage to them, because they believed that the surrender of Pistoia would follow the acquisition of Pisa.

In the early part of May 1328, the Florentines put in motion this army and quickly occupied Lastra, Signa, Montelupo, and Empoli, passing from thence on to San Miniato. When Castruccio heard of the enormous army which the Florentines were sending against him, he was in no degree alarmed, believing that the time had now arrived when Fortune would deliver the empire of Tuscany into his hands, for he had no reason to think that his enemy would make a better fight, or had better prospects of success, than at Pisa or Serravalle. He assembled twenty thousand foot soldiers and four thousand horsemen, and with this army went to Fucecchio, whilst he sent Pagolo Guinigi to Pisa with five thousand infantry. Fucecchio has a stronger position than any other town in the Pisan district, owing to its situation between the rivers Arno and Gusciana and its slight elevation above the surrounding plain. Moreover, the enemy could not hinder its being victualled unless they divided their forces, nor could they approach it either from the direction of Lucca or Pisa, nor could they get through to Pisa, or attack Castruccio’s forces except at a disadvantage. In one case they would find themselves placed between his two armies, the one under his own command and the other under Pagolo, and in the other case they would have to cross the Arno to get to close quarters with the enemy, an undertaking of great hazard. In order to tempt the Florentines to take this latter course, Castruccio withdrew his men from the banks of the river and placed them under the walls of Fucecchio, leaving a wide expanse of land between them and the river.

The Florentines, having occupied San Miniato, held a council of war to decide whether they should attack Pisa or the army of Castruccio, and, having weighed the difficulties of both courses, they decided upon the latter. The river Arno was at that time low enough to be fordable, yet the water reached to the shoulders of the infantrymen and to the saddles of the horsemen. On the morning of 10 June 1328, the Florentines commenced the battle by ordering forward a number of cavalry and ten thousand infantry. Castruccio, whose plan of action was fixed, and who well knew what to do, at once attacked the Florentines with five thousand infantry and three thousand horsemen, not allowing them to issue from the river before he charged them; he also sent one thousand light infantry up the river bank, and the same number down the Arno. The infantry of the Florentines were so much impeded by their arms and the water that they were not able to mount the banks of the river, whilst the cavalry had made the passage of the river more difficult for the others, by reason of the few who had crossed having broken up the bed of the river, and this being deep with mud, many of the horses rolled over with their riders and many of them had stuck so fast that they could not move. When the Florentine captains saw the difficulties their men were meeting, they withdrew them and moved higher up the river, hoping to find the river bed less treacherous and the banks more adapted for landing. These men were met at the bank by the forces which Castruccio had already sent forward, who, being light armed with bucklers and javelins in their hands, let fly with tremendous shouts into the faces and bodies of the cavalry. The horses, alarmed by the noise and the wounds, would not move forward, and trampled each other in great confusion. The fight between the men of Castruccio and those of the enemy who succeeded in crossing was sharp and terrible; both sides fought with the utmost desperation and neither would yield. The soldiers of Castruccio fought to drive the others back into the river, whilst the Florentines strove to get a footing on land in order to make room for the others pressing forward, who if they could but get out of the water would be able to fight, and in this obstinate conflict they were urged on by their captains. Castruccio shouted to his men that these were the same enemies whom they had before conquered at Serravalle, whilst the Florentines reproached each other that the many should be overcome by the few. At length Castruccio, seeing how long the battle had lasted, and that both his men and the enemy were utterly exhausted, and that both sides had many killed and wounded, pushed forward another body of infantry to take up a position at the rear of those who were fighting; he then commanded these latter to open their ranks as if they intended to retreat, and one part of them to turn to the right and another to the left. This cleared a space of which the Florentines at once took advantage, and thus gained possession of a portion of the battlefield. But when these tired soldiers found themselves at close quarters with Castruccio’s reserves they could not stand against them and at once fell back into the river. The cavalry of either side had not as yet gained any decisive advantage over the other, because Castruccio, knowing his inferiority in this arm, had commanded his leaders only to stand on the defensive against the attacks of their adversaries, as he hoped that when he had overcome the infantry he would be able to make short work of the cavalry. This fell out as he had hoped, for when he saw the Florentine army driven back across the river he ordered the remainder of his infantry to attack the cavalry of the enemy. This they did with lance and javelin, and, joined by their own cavalry, fell upon the enemy with the greatest fury and soon put him to flight. The Florentine captains, having seen the difficulty their cavalry had met with in crossing the river, had attempted to make their infantry cross lower down the river, in order to attack the flanks of Castruccio’s army. But here, also, the banks were steep and already lined by the men of Castruccio, and this movement was quite useless. Thus the Florentines were so completely defeated at all points that scarcely a third of them escaped, and Castruccio was again covered with glory. Many captains were taken prisoners, and Carlo, the son of King Ruberto, with Michelagnolo Falconi and Taddeo degli Albizzi, the Florentine commissioners, fled to Empoli. If the spoils were great, the slaughter was infinitely greater, as might be expected in such a battle. Of the Florentines there fell twenty thousand two hundred and thirty-one men, whilst Castruccio lost one thousand five hundred and seventy men.

But Fortune growing envious of the glory of Castruccio took away his life just at the time when she should have preserved it, and thus ruined all those plans which for so long a time he had worked to carry into effect, and in the successful prosecution of which nothing but death could have stopped him. Castruccio was in the thick of the battle the whole of the day; and when the end of it came, although fatigued and overheated, he stood at the gate of Fucecchio to welcome his men on their return from victory and personally thank them. He was also on the watch for any attempt of the enemy to retrieve the fortunes of the day; he being of the opinion that it was the duty of a good general to be the first man in the saddle and the last out of it. Here Castruccio stood exposed to a wind which often rises at midday on the banks of the Arno, and which is often very unhealthy; from this he took a chill, of which he thought nothing, as he was accustomed to such troubles; but it was the cause of his death. On the following night he was attacked with high fever, which increased so rapidly that the doctors saw it must prove fatal. Castruccio, therefore, called Pagolo Guinigi to him, and addressed him as follows:

“If I could have believed that Fortune would have cut me off in the midst of the career which was leading to that glory which all my successes promised, I should have laboured less, and I should have left thee, if a smaller state, at least with fewer enemies and perils, because I should have been content with the governorships of Lucca and Pisa. I should neither have subjugated the Pistoians, nor outraged the Florentines with so many injuries. But I would have made both these peoples my friends, and I should have lived, if no longer, at least more peacefully, and have left you a state without a doubt smaller, but one more secure and established on a surer foundation. But Fortune, who insists upon having the arbitrament of human affairs, did not endow me with sufficient judgment to recognize this from the first, nor the time to surmount it. Thou hast heard, for many have told thee, and I have never concealed it, how I entered the house of thy father whilst yet a boy — a stranger to all those ambitions which every generous soul should feel — and how I was brought up by him, and loved as though I had been born of his blood; how under his governance I learned to be valiant and capable of availing myself of all that fortune, of which thou hast been witness. When thy good father came to die, he committed thee and all his possessions to my care, and I have brought thee up with that love, and increased thy estate with that care, which I was bound to show. And in order that thou shouldst not only possess the estate which thy father left, but also that which my fortune and abilities have gained, I have never married, so that the love of children should never deflect my mind from that gratitude which I owed to the children of thy father. Thus I leave thee a vast estate, of which I am well content, but I am deeply concerned, inasmuch as I leave it thee unsettled and insecure. Thou hast the city of Lucca on thy hands, which will never rest contented under they government. Thou hast also Pisa, where the men are of nature changeable and unreliable, who, although they may be sometimes held in subjection, yet they will ever disdain to serve under a Lucchese. Pistoia is also disloyal to thee, she being eaten up with factions and deeply incensed against thy family by reason of the wrongs recently inflicted upon them. Thou hast for neighbours the offended Florentines, injured by us in a thousand ways, but not utterly destroyed, who will hail the news of my death with more delight than they would the acquisition of all Tuscany. In the Emperor and in the princes of Milan thou canst place no reliance, for they are far distant, slow, and their help is very long in coming. Therefore, thou hast no hope in anything but in thine own abilities, and in the memory of my valour, and in the prestige which this latest victory has brought thee; which, as thou knowest how to use it with prudence, will assist thee to come to terms with the Florentines, who, as they are suffering under this great defeat, should be inclined to listen to thee. And whereas I have sought to make them my enemies, because I believed that war with them would conduce to my power and glory, thou hast every inducement to make friends of them, because their alliance will bring thee advantages and security. It is of the greatest important in this world that a man should know himself, and the measure of his own strength and means; and he who knows that he has not a genius for fighting must learn how to govern by the arts of peace. And it will be well for thee to rule they conduct by my counsel, and to learn in this way to enjoy what my life-work and dangers have gained; and in this thou wilt easily succeed when thou hast learnt to believe that what I have told thee is true. And thou wilt be doubly indebted to me, in that I have left thee this realm and have taught thee how to keep it.”

After this there came to Castruccio those citizens of Pisa, Pistoia, and Lucca, who had been fighting at his side, and whilst recommending Pagolo to them, and making them swear obedience to him as his successor, he died. He left a happy memory to those who had known him, and no prince of those times was ever loved with such devotion as he was. His obsequies were celebrated with every sign of mourning, and he was buried in San Francesco at Lucca. Fortune was not so friendly to Pagolo Guinigi as she had been to Castruccio, for he had not the abilities. Not long after the death of Castruccio, Pagolo lost Pisa, and then Pistoia, and only with difficulty held on to Lucca. This latter city continued in the family of Guinigi until the time of the great-grandson of Pagolo.

From what has been related here it will be seen that Castruccio was a man of exceptional abilities, not only measured by men of his own time, but also by those of an earlier date. In stature he was above the ordinary height, and perfectly proportioned. He was of a gracious presence, and he welcomed men with such urbanity that those who spoke with him rarely left him displeased. His hair was inclined to be red, and he wore it cut short above the ears, and, whether it rained or snowed, he always went without a hat. He was delightful among friends, but terrible to his enemies; just to his subjects; ready to play false with the unfaithful, and willing to overcome by fraud those whom he desired to subdue, because he was wont to say that it was the victory that brought the glory, not the methods of achieving it. No one was bolder in facing danger, none more prudent in extricating himself. He was accustomed to say that men ought to attempt everything and fear nothing; that God is a lover of strong men, because one always sees that the weak are chastised by the strong. He was also wonderfully sharp or biting though courteous in his answers; and as he did not look for any indulgence in this way of speaking from others, so he was not angered with others did not show it to him. It has often happened that he has listened quietly when others have spoken sharply to him, as on the following occasions. He had caused a ducat to be given for a partridge, and was taken to task for doing so by a friend, to whom Castruccio had said: “You would not have given more than a penny.” “That is true,” answered the friend. Then said Castruccio to him: “A ducat is much less to me.” Having about him a flatterer on whom he had spat to show that he scorned him, the flatterer said to him: “Fisherman are willing to let the waters of the sea saturate them in order that they make take a few little fishes, and I allow myself to be wetted by spittle that I may catch a whale”; and this was not only heard by Castruccio with patience but rewarded. When told by a priest that it was wicked for him to live so sumptuously, Castruccio said: “If that be a vice than you should not fare so splendidly at the feasts of our saints.” Passing through a street he saw a young man as he came out of a house of ill fame blush at being seen by Castruccio, and said to him: “Thou shouldst not be ashamed when thou comest out, but when thou goest into such places.” A friend gave him a very curiously tied knot to undo and was told: “Fool, do you think that I wish to untie a thing which gave so much trouble to fasten.” Castruccio said to one who professed to be a philosopher: “You are like the dogs who always run after those who will give them the best to eat,” and was answered: “We are rather like the doctors who go to the houses of those who have the greatest need of them.” Going by water from Pisa to Leghorn, Castruccio was much disturbed by a dangerous storm that sprang up, and was reproached for cowardice by one of those with him, who said that he did not fear anything. Castruccio answered that he did not wonder at that, since every man valued his soul for what is was worth. Being asked by one what he ought to do to gain estimation, he said: “When thou goest to a banquet take care that thou dost not seat one piece of wood upon another.” To a person who was boasting that he had read many things, Castruccio said: “He knows better than to boast of remembering many things.” Someone bragged that he could drink much without becoming intoxicated. Castruccio replied: “An ox does the same.” Castruccio was acquainted with a girl with whom he had intimate relations, and being blamed by a friend who told him that it was undignified for him to be taken in by a woman, he said: “She has not taken me in, I have taken her.” Being also blamed for eating very dainty foods, he answered: “Thou dost not spend as much as I do?” and being told that it was true, he continued: “Then thou art more avaricious than I am gluttonous.” Being invited by Taddeo Bernardi, a very rich and splendid citizen of Luca, to supper, he went to the house and was shown by Taddeo into a chamber hung with silk and paved with fine stones representing flowers and foliage of the most beautiful colouring. Castruccio gathered some saliva in his mouth and spat it out upon Taddeo, and seeing him much disturbed by this, said to him: “I knew not where to spit in order to offend thee less.” Being asked how Caesar died he said: “God willing I will die as he did.” Being one night in the house of one of his gentlemen where many ladies were assembled, he was reproved by one of his friends for dancing and amusing himself with them more than was usual in one of his station, so he said: “He who is considered wise by day will not be considered a fool at night.” A person came to demand a favour of Castruccio, and thinking he was not listening to his plea threw himself on his knees to the ground, and being sharply reproved by Castruccio, said: “Thou art the reason of my acting thus for thou hast thy ears in thy feet,” whereupon he obtained double the favour he had asked. Castruccio used to say that the way to hell was an easy one, seeing that it was in a downward direction and you travelled blindfolded. Being asked a favour by one who used many superfluous words, he said to him: “When you have another request to make, send someone else to make it.” Having been wearied by a similar man with a long oration who wound up by saying: “Perhaps I have fatigued you by speaking so long,” Castruccio said: “You have not, because I have not listened to a word you said.” He used to say of one who had been a beautiful child and who afterwards became a fine man, that he was dangerous, because he first took the husbands from the wives and now he took the wives from their husbands. To an envious man who laughed, he said: “Do you laugh because you are successful or because another is unfortunate?” Whilst he was still in the charge of Messer Francesco Guinigi, one of his companions said to him: “What shall I give you if you will let me give you a blow on the nose?” Castruccio answered: “A helmet.” Having put to death a citizen of Lucca who had been instrumental in raising him to power, and being told that he had done wrong to kill one of his old friends, he answered that people deceived themselves; he had only killed a new enemy. Castruccio praised greatly those men who intended to take a wife and then did not do so, saying that they were like men who said they would go to sea, and then refused when the time came. He said that it always struck him with surprise that whilst men in buying an earthen or glass vase would sound it first to learn if it were good, yet in choosing a wife they were content with only looking at her. He was once asked in what manner he would wish to be buried when he died, and answered: “With the face turned downwards, for I know when I am gone this country will be turned upside down.” On being asked if it had ever occurred to him to become a friar in order to save his soul, he answered that it had not, because it appeared strange to him that Fra Lazerone should go to Paradise and Uguccione della Faggiuola to the Inferno. He was once asked when should a man eat to preserve his health, and replied: “If the man be rich let him eat when he is hungry; if he be poor, then when he can.” Seeing on of his gentlemen make a member of his family lace him up, he said to him: “I pray God that you will let him feed you also.” Seeing that someone had written upon his house in Latin the words: “May God preserve this house from the wicked,” he said, “The owner must never go in.” Passing through one of the streets he saw a small house with a very large door, and remarked: “That house will fly through the door.” He was having a discussion with the ambassador of the King of Naples concerning the property of some banished nobles, when a dispute arose between them, and the ambassador asked him if he had no fear of the king. “Is this king of yours a bad man or a good one?” asked Castruccio, and was told that he was a good one, whereupon he said, “Why should you suggest that I should be afraid of a good man?”

I could recount many other stories of his sayings both witty and weighty, but I think that the above will be sufficient testimony to his high qualities. He lived forty-four years, and was in every way a prince. And as he was surrounded by many evidences of his good fortune, so he also desired to have near him some memorials of his bad fortune; therefore the manacles with which he was chained in prison are to be seen to this day fixed up in the tower of his residence, where they were placed by him to testify forever to his days of adversity. As in his life he was inferior neither to Philip of Macedon, the father of Alexander, nor to Scipio of Rome, so he died in the same year of his age as they did, and he would doubtless have excelled both of them had Fortune decreed that he should be born, not in Lucca, but in Macedonia or Rome.

HISTORY OF FLORENCE AND OF THE AFFAIRS OF ITALY

FROM THE EARLIEST TIMES TO THE DEATH OF LORENZO THE MAGNIFICENT

Anonymous translation, published by W. Walter Dunnein, 1901

First published posthumously in 1532, the following work is an eight-volume history of the city-state Florence, commissioned by Giulio de’ Medici, later Pope Clement VII. Although this was not exactly the assignment he desired, Machiavelli accepted it as the only possible way to come back into the graces of the Medici. The intent of the work, although semi-officially, was to recover the city’s charge of historic officiality. The wage for the appointment was not large, drawing 57 florins per year, which was later increased to 100 florins.

The finished work was officially presented to Giulio de’ Medici, now Pope Clement VII, in May 1526. The Pope liked the work and rewarded Machiavelli, though moderately, and asked for his support in forming a national army, on the wake of his theoretical work The Art of War, in preparation for the War of the League of Cognac. However, after the Sack of Rome (1527) and the fall of the Medici government in Florence, Machiavelli’s hopes were dashed. He would die soon afterwards.

The first of the eight books presents a general overview of the history of Europe from the fall of the Western Roman Empire to 1215; the second book begins to discuss the history of Florence, with the narration of the feud between Buondelmenti/Donati and Uberti/Amidei, which according to tradition corroborated by Dante would unchain the conflict between Guelphs and Ghibellines in the city. Books two to four narrate the history before the Medici rise, while the last four concern the fight for power that ended with the Medicean lordship. The eighth book closes with the death of Lorenzo il Magnifico on 1492, with the end of the fragile peace that Lorenzo’s politics of balance had produced. Machiavelli strives to portray in a favourable light personalities such as Cosimo il Vecchio and Lorenzo il Magnifico.

Portrait Pope Clement VII by Sebastiano del Piombo, c. 1531 — Clement VII was Pope from 19 November 1523 to his death in 1534. The Sack of Rome and English Reformation occurred during his papacy. He also commissioned Machiavelli to write this historical work.

CONTENTS

INTRODUCTION

BOOK I

CHAPTER I

CHAPTER II

CHAPTER III

CHAPTER IV

CHAPTER V

CHAPTER VI

CHAPTER VII

BOOK II

CHAPTER I

CHAPTER II

CHAPTER III

CHAPTER IV

CHAPTER V

CHAPTER VI

CHAPTER VII

CHAPTER VIII

CHAPTER IX

BOOK III

CHAPTER I

CHAPTER II

CHAPTER III

CHAPTER IV

CHAPTER V

CHAPTER VI

CHAPTER VII

BOOK IV

CHAPTER I

CHAPTER II

CHAPTER III

CHAPTER IV

CHAPTER V

CHAPTER VI

CHAPTER VII

BOOK V

CHAPTER I

CHAPTER II

CHAPTER III

CHAPTER IV

CHAPTER V

CHAPTER VI

CHAPTER VII

BOOK VI

CHAPTER I

CHAPTER II

CHAPTER III

CHAPTER IV

CHAPTER V

CHAPTER VI

CHAPTER VII

BOOK VII

CHAPTER I

CHAPTER II

CHAPTER III

CHAPTER IV

CHAPTER V

CHAPTER VI

BOOK VIII

CHAPTER I

CHAPTER II

CHAPTER III

CHAPTER IV

CHAPTER V

CHAPTER VI

CHAPTER VII

The original manuscript, featuring its dedication to Pope Clement VII

INTRODUCTION

Niccolo Machiavelli, the first great Italian historian, and one of the most eminent political writers of any age or country, was born at Florence, May 3, 1469. He was of an old though not wealthy Tuscan family, his father, who was a jurist, dying when Niccolo was sixteen years old. We know nothing of Machiavelli’s youth and little about his studies. He does not seem to have received the usual humanistic education of his time, as he knew no Greek.[*] The first notice of Machiavelli is in 1498 when we find him holding the office of Secretary in the second Chancery of the Signoria, which office he retained till the downfall of the Florentine Republic in 1512. His unusual ability was soon recognized, and in 1500 he was sent on a mission to Louis XII. of France, and afterward on an embassy to Cæsar Borgia, the lord of Romagna, at Urbino. Machiavelli’s report and description of this and subsequent embassies to this prince, shows his undisguised admiration for the courage and cunning of Cæsar, who was a master in the application of the principles afterwards exposed in such a skillful and uncompromising manner by Machiavelli in his Prince.

The limits of this introduction will not permit us to follow with any detail the many important duties with which he was charged by his native state, all of which he fulfilled with the utmost fidelity and with consummate skill. When, after the battle of Ravenna in 1512 the holy league determined upon the downfall of Pier Soderini, Gonfaloniere of the Florentine Republic, and the restoration of the Medici, the efforts of Machiavelli, who was an ardent republican, were in vain; the troops he had helped to organize fled before the Spaniards and the Medici were returned to power. Machiavelli attempted to conciliate his new masters, but he was deprived of his office, and being accused in the following year of participation in the conspiracy of Boccoli and Capponi, he was imprisoned and tortured, though afterward set at liberty by Pope Leo X. He now retired to a small estate near San Casciano, seven miles from Florence. Here he devoted himself to political and historical studies, and though apparently retired from public life, his letters show the deep and passionate interest he took in the political vicissitudes through which Italy was then passing, and in all of which the singleness of purpose with which he continued to advance his native Florence, is clearly manifested. It was during his retirement upon his little estate at San Casciano that Machiavelli wrote The Prince, the most famous of all his writings, and here also he had begun a much more extensive work, his Discourses on the Decades of Livy, which continued to occupy him for several years. These Discourses, which do not form a continuous commentary on Livy, give Machiavelli an opportunity to express his own views on the government of the state, a task for which his long and varied political experience, and an assiduous study of the ancients rendered him eminently qualified. The Discourses and The Prince, written at the same time, supplement each other and are really one work. Indeed, the treatise, The Art of War, though not written till 1520 should be mentioned here because of its intimate connection with these two treatises, it being, in fact, a further development of some of the thoughts expressed in the Discorsi. The Prince, a short work, divided into twenty-six books, is the best known of all Machiavelli’s writings. Herein he expresses in his own masterly way his views on the founding of a new state, taking for his type and model Cæsar Borgia, although the latter had failed in his schemes for the consolidation of his power in the Romagna. The principles here laid down were the natural outgrowth of the confused political conditions of his time. And as in the Principe, as its name indicates, Machiavelli is concerned chiefly with the government of a Prince, so the Discorsi treat principally of the Republic, and here Machiavelli’s model republic was the Roman commonwealth, the most successful and most enduring example of popular government. Free Rome is the embodiment of his political idea of the state. Much that Machiavelli says in this treatise is as true to-day and holds as good as the day it was written. And to us there is much that is of especial importance. To select a chapter almost at random, let us take Book I., Chap. XV.: “Public affairs are easily managed in a city where the body of the people is not corrupt; and where equality exists, there no principality can be established; nor can a republic be established where there is no equality.”

No man has been more harshly judged than Machiavelli, especially in the two centuries following his death. But he has since found many able champions and the tide has turned. The Prince has been termed a manual for tyrants, the effect of which has been most pernicious. But were Machiavelli’s doctrines really new? Did he discover them? He merely had the candor and courage to write down what everybody was thinking and what everybody knew. He merely gives us the impressions he had received from a long and intimate intercourse with princes and the affairs of state. It was Lord Bacon, I believe, who said that Machiavelli tells us what princes do, not what they ought to do. When Machiavelli takes Cæsar Borgia as a model, he in nowise extols him as a hero, but merely as a prince who was capable of attaining the end in view. The life of the State was the primary object. It must be maintained. And Machiavelli has laid down the principles, based upon his study and wide experience, by which this may be accomplished. He wrote from the view-point of the politician, — not of the moralist. What is good politics may be bad morals, and in fact, by a strange fatality, where morals and politics clash, the latter generally gets the upper hand. And will anyone contend that the principles set forth by Machiavelli in his Prince or his Discourses have entirely perished from the earth? Has diplomacy been entirely stripped of fraud and duplicity? Let anyone read the famous eighteenth chapter of The Prince: “In what Manner Princes should keep their Faith,” and he will be convinced that what was true nearly four hundred years ago, is quite as true to-day.

Of the remaining works of Machiavelli the most important is the History of Florence written between 1521 and 1525, and dedicated to Clement VII. The first book is merely a rapid review of the Middle Ages, the history of Florence beginning with Book II. Machiavelli’s method has been censured for adhering at times too closely to the chroniclers like Villani, Cambi, and Giovanni Cavalcanti, and at others rejecting their testimony without apparent reason, while in its details the authority of his History is often questionable. It is the straightforward, logical narrative, which always holds the interest of the reader that is the greatest charm of the History. Of the other works of Machiavelli we may mention here his comedies the Mandragola and Clizia, and his novel Belfagor.

After the downfall of the Republic and Machiavelli’s release from prison in 1513, fortune seems never again to have favoured him. It is true that in 1520 Giuliano de’ Medici commissioned him to write his History of Florence, and he afterwards held a number of offices, yet these latter were entirely beneath his merits. He had been married in 1502 to Marietta Corsini, who bore him four sons and a daughter. He died on June 22, 1527, leaving his family in the greatest poverty, a sterling tribute to his honesty, when one considers the many opportunities he doubtless had to enrich himself. Machiavelli’s life was not without blemish — few lives are. We must bear in mind the atmosphere of craft, hypocrisy, and poison in which he lived, — his was the age of Cæsar Borgia and of Popes like the monster Alexander VI. and Julius II. Whatever his faults may have been, Machiavelli was always an ardent patriot and an earnest supporter of popular government. It is true that he was willing to accept a prince, if one could be found courageous enough and prudent enough to unite dismembered Italy, for in the unity of his native land he saw the only hope of its salvation.

Machiavelli is buried in the church of Santa Croce at Florence, beside the tomb of Michael Angelo. His monument bears this inscription:

“Tanto nomini nullum par eulogium.”

And though this praise is doubtless exaggerated, he is a son of whom his country may be justly proud.

Hugo Albert Rennert.

[Villari, Niccolo Machiavelli e i suoi tempi, 2d ed. Milan, 1895-97, the best work on the subject. The most complete bibliography of Machiavelli up to 1858 is to be found in Mohl, Gesch. u. Liter. der Staatswissenshaften, Erlangen, 1855, III., 521-91. See also La Vita e gli scritti di Niccolo Machiavelli nella loro Relazione col Machiavellismo, by O. Tommasini, Turin, 1883 (unfinished).  The best English translation of Machiavelli with which I am acquainted is: The Historical, Political, and Diplomatic writings of Niccolo Machiavelli, translated by Christian E. Detmold. Osgood & Co., Boston, 1882, 4 vols. 8vo. ]

BOOK I

CHAPTER I

Irruption of Northern people upon the Roman territories — Visigoths — Barbarians called in by Stilicho — Vandals in Africa — Franks and Burgundians give their names to France and Burgundy — The Huns — Angles give the name to England — Attila, king of the Huns, in Italy — Genseric takes Rome — The Lombards.

The people who inhabit the northern parts beyond the Rhine and the Danube, living in a healthy and prolific region, frequently increase to such vast multitudes that part of them are compelled to abandon their native soil, and seek a habitation in other countries. The method adopted, when one of these provinces had to be relieved of its superabundant population, was to divide into three parts, each containing an equal number of nobles and of people, of rich and of poor. The third upon whom the lot fell, then went in search of new abodes, leaving the remaining two-thirds in possession of their native country.

These migrating masses destroyed the Roman empire by the facilities for settlement which the country offered when the emperors abandoned Rome, the ancient seat of their dominion, and fixed their residence at Constantinople; for by this step they exposed the western empire to the rapine of both their ministers and their enemies, the remoteness of their position preventing them either from seeing or providing for its necessities. To suffer the overthrow of such an extensive empire, established by the blood of so many brave and virtuous men, showed no less folly in the princes themselves than infidelity in their ministers; for not one irruption alone, but many, contributed to its ruin; and these barbarians exhibited much ability and perseverance in accomplishing their object.

The first of these northern nations that invaded the empire after the Cimbrians, who were conquered by Caius Marius, was the Visigoths — which name in our language signifies “Western Goths.” These, after some battles fought along its confines, long held their seat of dominion upon the Danube, with consent of the emperors; and although, moved by various causes, they often attacked the Roman provinces, were always kept in subjection by the imperial forces. The emperor Theodosius conquered them with great glory; and, being wholly reduced to his power, they no longer selected a sovereign of their own, but, satisfied with the terms which he granted them, lived and fought under his ensigns, and authority. On the death of Theodosius, his sons Arcadius and Honorius, succeeded to the empire, but not to the talents and fortune of their father; and the times became changed with the princes. Theodosius had appointed a governor to each of the three divisions of the empire, Ruffinus to the eastern, to the western Stilicho, and Gildo to the African. Each of these, after the death of Theodosius, determined not to be governors merely, but to assume sovereign dominion over their respective provinces. Gildo and Ruffinus were suppressed at their outset; but Stilicho, concealing his design, ingratiated himself with the new emperors, and at the same time so disturbed their government, as to facilitate his occupation of it afterward. To make the Visigoths their enemies, he advised that the accustomed stipend allowed to this people should be withheld; and as he thought these enemies would not be sufficient alone to disturb the empire, he contrived that the Burgundians, Franks, Vandals, and Alans (a northern people in search of new habitations), should assail the Roman provinces.

That they might be better able to avenge themselves for the injury they had sustained, the Visigoths, on being deprived of their subsidy, created Alaric their king; and having assailed the empire, succeeded, after many reverses, in overrunning Italy, and finally in pillaging Rome.

After this victory, Alaric died, and his successor, Astolphus, having married Placidia, sister of the emperors, agreed with them to go to the relief of Gaul and Spain, which provinces had been assailed by the Vandals, Burgundians, Alans, and Franks, from the causes before mentioned. Hence it followed, that the Vandals, who had occupied that part of Spain called Betica (now Andalusia), being pressed by the Visigoths, and unable to resist them, were invited by Boniface, who governed Africa for the empire, to occupy that province; for, being in rebellion, he was afraid his error would become known to the emperor. For these reasons the Vandals gladly undertook the enterprise, and under Genseric, their king, became lords of Africa.

At this time Theodosius, son of Arcadius, succeeded to the empire; and, bestowing little attention on the affairs of the west, caused those who had taken possession to think of securing their acquisitions. Thus the Vandals ruled Africa; the Alans and Visigoths, Spain; while the Franks and Burgundians not only took Gaul, but each gave their name to the part they occupied; hence one is called France, the other Burgundy. The good fortune of these brought fresh people to the destruction of the empire, one of which, the Huns, occupied the province of Pannonia, situated upon the nearer shore of the Danube, and which, from their name, is still called Hungary. To these disorders it must be added, that the emperor, seeing himself attacked on so many sides, to lessen the number of his enemies, began to treat first with the Vandals, then with the Franks; a course which diminished his own power, and increased that of the barbarians. Nor was the island of Britain, which is now called England, secure from them; for the Britons, being apprehensive of those who had occupied Gaul, called the Angli, a people of Germany, to their aid; and these under Vortigern their king, first defended, and then drove them from the island, of which they took possession, and after themselves named the country England. But the inhabitants, being robbed of their home, became desperate by necessity and resolved to take possession of some other country, although they had been unable to defend their own. They therefore crossed the sea with their families, and settled in the country nearest to the beach, which from themselves is called Brittany. The Huns, who were said above to have occupied Pannonia, joining with other nations, as the Zepidi, Eurili, Turingi, and Ostro, or eastern Goths, moved in search of new countries, and not being able to enter France, which was defended by the forces of the barbarians, came into Italy under Attila their king. He, a short time previously, in order to possess the entire monarchy, had murdered his brother Bleda; and having thus become very powerful, Andaric, king of the Zepidi, and Velamir, king of the Ostrogoths, became subject to him. Attila, having entered Italy, laid siege to Aquileia, where he remained without any obstacle for two years, wasting the country round, and dispersing the inhabitants. This, as will be related in its place, caused the origin of Venice. After the taking and ruin of Aquileia, he directed his course towards Rome, from the destruction of which he abstained at the entreaty of the pontiff, his respect for whom was so great that he left Italy and retired into Austria, where he died. After the death of Attila, Velamir, king of the Ostrogoths, and the heads of the other nations, took arms against his sons Henry and Uric, slew the one and compelled the other, with his Huns, to repass the Danube and return to their country; while the Ostrogoths and the Zepidi established themselves in Pannonia, and the Eruli and the Turingi upon the farther bank of the Danube.

Attila having left Italy, Valentinian, emperor of the west, thought of restoring the country; and, that he might be more ready to defend it against the barbarians, abandoned Rome, and removed the seat of government to Ravenna. The misfortunes which befell the western empire caused the emperor, who resided at Constantinople, on many occasions to give up the possession of it to others, as a charge full of danger and expense; and sometimes, without his permission, the Romans, seeing themselves so abandoned, created an emperor for their defense, or suffered some one to usurp the dominion. This occurred at the period of which we now speak, when Maximus, a Roman, after the death of Valentinian, seized the government, and compelled Eudocia, widow of the late emperor, to take him for her husband; but she, being of imperial blood, scorned the connection of a private citizen; and being anxious to avenge herself for the insult, secretly persuaded Genseric, king of the Vandals and master of Africa to come to Italy, representing to him the advantage he would derive from the undertaking, and the facility with which it might be accomplished. Tempted by the hope of booty, he came immediately, and finding Rome abandoned, plundered the city during fourteen days. He also ravaged many other places in Italy, and then, loaded with wealth, withdrew to Africa. The Romans, having returned to their city, and Maximus being dead, elected Avitus, a Roman, as his successor. After this, several important events occurred both in Italy and in the countries beyond; and after the deaths of many emperors the empire of Constantinople devolved upon Zeno, and that of Rome upon Orestes and Augustulus his son, who obtained the sovereignty by fraud. While they were designing to hold by force what they had obtained by treachery, the Eruli and the Turingi, who, after the death of Attila, as before remarked, had established themselves upon the farther bank of the Danube, united in a league and invaded Italy under Odoacer their general. Into the districts which they left unoccupied, the Longobardi or Lombards, also a northern people, entered, led by Godogo their king. Odoacer conquered and slew Orestes near Pavia, but Augustulus escaped. After this victory, that Rome might, with her change of power, also change her title, Odoacer, instead of using the imperial name, caused himself to be declared king of Rome. He was the first of those leaders who at this period overran the world and thought of settling in Italy; for the others, either from fear that they should not be able to hold the country, knowing that it might easily be relieved by the eastern emperors, or from some unknown cause, after plundering her, sought other countries wherein to establish themselves.

CHAPTER II

State of the Roman empire under Zeno — Theodoric king of the Ostrogoths — Character of Theodoric — Changes in the Roman empire — New languages — New names — Theodoric dies — Belisarius in Italy — Totila takes Rome — Narses destroys the Goths — New form of Government in Italy — Narses invites the Lombards into Italy — The Lombards change the form of government.

At this time the ancient Roman empire was governed by the following princes: Zeno, reigning in Constantinople, commanded the whole of the eastern empire; the Ostrogoths ruled Mesia and Pannonia; the Visigoths, Suavi, and Alans, held Gascony and Spain; the Vandals, Africa; the Franks and Burgundians, France; and the Eruli and Turingi, Italy. The kingdom of the Ostrogoths had descended to Theodoric, nephew of Velamir, who, being on terms of friendship with Zeno the eastern emperor, wrote to him that his Ostrogoths thought it an injustice that they, being superior in valor to the people thereabout, should be inferior to them in dominion, and that it was impossible for him to restrain them within the limits of Pannonia. So, seeing himself under the necessity of allowing them to take arms and go in search of new abodes, he wished first to acquaint Zeno with it, in order that he might provide for them, by granting some country in which they might establish themselves, by his good favor with greater propriety and convenience. Zeno, partly from fear and partly from a desire to drive Odoacer out of Italy, gave Theodoric permission to lead his people against him, and take possession of the country. Leaving his friends the Zepidi in Pannonia, Theodoric marched into Italy, slew Odoacer and his son, and, moved by the same reasons which had induced Valentinian to do so, established his court at Ravenna, and like Odoacer took the title of king of Italy.

Theodoric possessed great talents both for war and peace; in the former he was always conqueror, and in the latter he conferred very great benefits upon the cities and people under him. He distributed the Ostrogoths over the country, each district under its leader, that he might more conveniently command them in war, and govern them in peace. He enlarged Ravenna, restored Rome, and, with the exception of military discipline, conferred upon the Romans every honor. He kept within their proper bounds, wholly by the influence of his character, all the barbarian kings who occupied the empire; he built towns and fortresses between the point of the Adriatic and the Alps, in order, with the greater facility, to impede the passage of any new hordes of barbarians who might design to assail Italy; and if, toward the latter end of his life, so many virtues had not been sullied by acts of cruelty, caused by various jealousies of his people, such as the death of Symmachus and Boethius, men of great holiness, every point of his character would have deserved the highest praise. By his virtue and goodness, not only Rome and Italy, but every part of the western empire, freed from the continual troubles which they had suffered from the frequent influx of barbarians, acquired new vigor, and began to live in an orderly and civilized manner. For surely if any times were truly miserable for Italy and the provinces overrun by the barbarians, they were those which occurred from Arcadius and Honorius to Theodoric. If we only consider the evils which arise to a republic or a kingdom by a change of prince or of government; not by foreign interference, but by civil discord (in which we may see how even slight variations suffice to ruin the most powerful kingdoms or states), we may then easily imagine how much Italy and the other Roman provinces suffered, when they not only changed their forms of government and their princes, but also their laws, customs, modes of living, religion, language, and name. Any one of such changes, by itself, without being united with others, might, with thinking of it, to say nothing of the seeing and suffering, infuse terror into the strongest minds.

From these causes proceeded the ruin as well as the origin and extension of many cities. Among those which were ruined were Aquileia, Luni, Chiusi, Popolonia, Fiesole, and many others. The new cities were Venice, Sienna, Ferrara, Aquila, with many towns and castles which for brevity we omit. Those which became extended were Florence, Genoa, Pisa, Milan, Naples, and Bologna; to all of which may be added, the ruin and restoration of Rome, and of many other cities not previously mentioned.

From this devastation and new population arose new languages, as we see in the different dialects of France, Spain and Italy; which, partaking of the native idiom of the new people and of the old Roman, formed a new manner of discourse. Besides, not only were the names of provinces changed, but also of lakes, rivers, seas, and men; for France, Spain, and Italy are full of fresh names, wholly different from the ancient; as, omitting many others, we see that the Po, the Garda, the Archipelago, are names quite different from those which the ancients used; while instead of Cæsar and Pompey we have Peter, Matthew, John, etc.

Among so many variations, that of religion was not of little importance; for, while combating the customs of the ancient faith with the miracles of the new, very serious troubles and discords were created among men. And if the Christians had been united in one faith, fewer disorders would have followed; but the contentions among themselves, of the churches of Rome, Greece, and Ravenna, joined to those of the heretic sects with the Catholics, served in many ways to render the world miserable. Africa is a proof of this; having suffered more horrors from the Arian sect, whose doctrines were believed by the Vandals, than from any avarice or natural cruelty of the people themselves. Living amid so many persecutions, the countenances of men bore witness of the terrible impressions upon their minds; for besides the evils they suffered from the disordered state of the world, they scarcely could have recourse to the help of God, in whom the unhappy hope for relief; for the greater part of them, being uncertain what divinity they ought to address, died miserably, without help and without hope.

Having been the first who put a stop to so many evils, Theodoric deserves the highest praise: for during the thirty-eight years he reigned in Italy, he brought the country to such a state of greatness that her previous sufferings were no longer recognizable. But at his death, the kingdom descending to Atalaric, son of Amalasontha, his daughter, and the malice of fortune not being yet exhausted, the old evils soon returned; for Atalaric died soon after his grandfather, and the kingdom coming into the possession of his mother, she was betrayed by Theodatus, whom she had called to assist her in the government. He put her to death and made himself king; and having thus become odious to the Ostrogoths, the emperor Justinian entertained the hope of driving him out of Italy. Justinian appointed Belisarius to the command of this expedition, as he had already conquered Africa, expelled the Vandals, and reduced the country to the imperial rule.

Belisarius took possession of Sicily, and from thence passing into Italy, occupied Naples and Rome. The Goths, seeing this, slew Theodatus their king, whom they considered the cause of their misfortune, and elected Vitiges in his stead, who, after some skirmishes, was besieged and taken by Belisarius at Ravenna; but before he had time to secure the advantages of his victory, Belisarius was recalled by Justinian, and Joannes and Vitalis were appointed in his place. Their principles and practices were so different from those of Belisarius, that the Goths took courage and created Ildovadus, governor of Verona, their king. After Ildovadus, who was slain, came Totila, who routed the imperial forces, took Tuscany and Naples, and recovered nearly the whole of what Belisarius had taken from them. On this account Justinian determined to send him into Italy again; but, coming with only a small force, he lost the reputation which his former victories had won for him, in less time than he had taken to acquire it. Totila being at Ostia with his forces, took Rome before his eyes; but being unable to hold or to leave the city, he destroyed the greater part of it, drove out the citizens, and took the senators away from him. Thinking little of Belisarius, he led his people into Calabria, to attack the forces which had been sent from Greece.

Belisarius, seeing the city abandoned, turned his mind to the performance of an honourable work. Viewing the ruins of Rome, he determined to rebuild her walls and recall her inhabitants with as little delay as possible. But fortune was opposed to this laudable enterprise; for Justinian, being at this time assailed by the Parthians, recalled him; and his duty to his sovereign compelled him to abandon Italy to Totila, who again took Rome, but did not treat her with such severity as upon the former occasion; for at the entreaty of St. Benedict, who in those days had great reputation for sanctity, he endeavored to restore her. In the meantime, Justinian having arranged matters with the Parthians, again thought of sending a force to the relief of Italy; but the Sclavi, another northern people, having crossed the Danube and attacked Illyria and Thrace, prevented him, so that Totila held almost the whole country. Having conquered the Slavonians, Justinian sent Narses, a eunuch, a man of great military talent, who, having arrived in Italy, routed and slew Totila. The Goths who escaped sought refuge in Pavia, where they created Teias their king. On the other hand, Narses after the victory took Rome, and coming to an engagement with Teias near Nocera, slew him and routed his army. By this victory, the power of the Goths in Italy was quite annihilated, after having existed for seventy years, from the coming of Theodoric to the death of Teias.

No sooner was Italy delivered from the Goths than Justinian died, and was succeeded by Justin, his son, who, at the instigation of Sophia, his wife, recalled Narses, and sent Longinus in his stead. Like those who preceded him, he made his abode at Ravenna, and besides this, gave a new form to the government of Italy; for he did not appoint governors of provinces, as the Goths had done, but in every city and town of importance placed a ruler whom he called a duke. Neither in this arrangement did he respect Rome more than the other cities; for having set aside the consuls and senate, names which up to this time had been preserved, he placed her under a duke, who was sent every year from Ravenna, and called her the duchy of Rome; while to him who remained in Ravenna, and governed the whole of Italy for the emperor, was given the name of Exarch. This division of the country greatly facilitated the ruin of Italy, and gave the Lombards an early occasion of occupying it. Narses was greatly enraged with the emperor, for having recalled him from the government of the province, which he had won with his own valor and blood; while Sophia, not content with the injury done by withdrawing him, treated him in the most offensive manner, saying she wished him to come back that he might spin with the other eunuchs. Full of indignation, Narses persuaded Alboin, king of the Lombards, who then reigned in Pannonia, to invade and take possession of Italy.

The Lombards, as was said before, occupied those places upon the Danube which had been vacated by the Eruli and Turingi, when Odoacer their king led them into Italy; where, having been established for some time, their dominions were held by Alboin, a man ferocious and bold, under whom they crossed the Danube, and coming to an engagement with Cunimund, king of the Zepidi, who held Pannonia, conquered and slew him. Alboin finding Rosamond, daughter of Cunimund, among the captives, took her to wife, and made himself sovereign of Pannonia; and, moved by his savage nature, caused the skull of Cunimund to be formed into a cup, from which, in memory of the victory, he drank. Being invited into Italy by Narses, with whom he had been in friendship during the war with the Goths, he left Pannonia to the Huns, who after the death of Attila had returned to their country. Finding, on his arrival, the province divided into so many parts, he presently occupied Pavia, Milan, Verona, Vicenza, the whole of Tuscany, and the greater part of Flamminia, which is now called Romagna. These great and rapid acquisitions made him think the conquest of Italy already secured; he therefore gave a great feast at Verona, and having become elevated with wine, ordered the skull of Cunimund to be filled, and caused it to be presented to the queen Rosamond, who sat opposite, saying loud enough for her to hear, that upon occasion of such great joy she should drink with her father. These words were like a dagger to the lady’s bosom and she resolved to have revenge. Knowing that Helmichis, a noble Lombard, was in love with one of her maids, she arranged with the young woman, that Helmichis, without being acquainted with the fact, should sleep with her instead of his mistress. Having effected her design, Rosamond discovered herself to Helmichis, and gave him the choice either of killing Alboin, and taking herself and the kingdom as his reward, or of being put to death as the ravisher of the queen. Helmichis consented to destroy Alboin; but after the murder, finding they could not occupy the kingdom, and fearful that the Lombards would put them to death for the love they bore to Alboin, they seized the royal treasure, and fled with it to Longinus, at Ravenna, who received them favorably.

During these troubles the emperor Justinus died, and was succeeded by Tiberius, who, occupied in the wars with the Parthians, could not attend to the affairs of Italy; and this seeming to Longinus to present an opportunity, by means of Rosamond and her wealth, of becoming king of the Lombards and of the whole of Italy, he communicated his design to her, persuaded her to destroy Helmichis, and so take him for her husband. To this end, having prepared poisoned wine, she with her own hand presented it to Helmichis, who complained of thirst as he came from the bath. Having drunk half of it, he suspected the truth, from the unusual sensation it occasioned and compelled her to drink the remainder; so that in a few hours both came to their end, and Longinus was deprived of the hope of becoming king.

In the meantime the Lombards, having drawn themselves together in Pavia, which was become the principal seat of their empire, made Clefis their king. He rebuilt Imola, destroyed by Narses, and occupied Remini and almost every place up to Rome; but he died in the course of his victories. Clefis was cruel to such a degree, not only toward strangers, but to his own Lombards, that these people, sickened of royal power, did not create another king, but appointed among themselves thirty dukes to govern the rest. This prevented the Lombards from occupying the whole of Italy, or of extending their dominion further than Benevento; for, of the cities of Rome, Ravenna, Cremona, Mantua, Padua, Monselice, Parma, Bologna, Faenza, Forli, and Cesena, some defended themselves for a time, and others never fell under their dominion; since, not having a king, they became less prompt for war, and when they afterward appointed one, they were, by living in freedom, become less obedient, and more apt to quarrel among themselves; which from the first prevented a fortunate issue of their military expeditions, and was the ultimate cause of their being driven out of Italy. The affairs of the Lombards being in the state just described, the Romans and Longinus came to an agreement with them, that each should lay down their arms and enjoy what they already possessed.

CHAPTER III

Beginning of the greatness of the pontiffs in Italy — Abuse of censures and indulgences — The pope applies to Pepin, king of France, for assistance — Donation of Pepin to the pontiff — Charlemagne — End of the kingdom of the Lombards — The title of cardinal begins to be used — The empire passes to the Germans — Berengarius, duke of Fruili, created king of Italy — Pisa becomes great — Order and division of the states of Italy — Electors of the emperor created.

In these times the popes began to acquire greater temporal authority than they had previously possessed; although the immediate successors of St. Peter were more reverenced for the holiness of their lives, and the miracles which they performed; and their example so greatly extended the Christian religion, that princes of other states embraced it, in order to obviate the confusion which prevailed at that period. The emperor having become a Christian and returned to Constantinople, it followed, as was remarked at the commencement of the book, that the Roman empire was the more easily ruined, and the church more rapidly increased her authority. Nevertheless, the whole of Italy, being subject either to the emperors or the kings till the coming of the Lombards, the popes never acquired any greater authority than what reverence for their habits and doctrine gave them. In other respects they obeyed the emperors or kings; officiated for them in their affairs, as ministers or agents, and were even sometimes put to death by them. He who caused them to become of more importance in the affairs of Italy, was Theodoric, king of the Goths, when he established the seat of his empire at Ravenna; for, Rome being without a prince, the Romans found it necessary, for their safety, to yield obedience to the pope; his authority, however, was not greatly increased thereby, the only advantage being, that the church of Rome was allowed to take precedence of that of Ravenna. But the Lombards having taken possession, and Italy being divided into many parts, the pope had an opportunity of greater exertion. Being as it were the head of Rome, both the emperor of Constantinople and the Lombards respected him; so that the Romans, by his means, entered into league with the Lombards, and with Longinus, not as subjects, but as equals. Thus the popes, at one time friends of the Greeks, and at another of the Lombards, increased their own power; but upon the ruin of the eastern empire, which occurred during the time of Heraclius, their influence was reduced; for the Sclavi, of whom we spoke before, again assailed Illyria, and having occupied the country, named it Sclavonia, after themselves; and the other parts were attacked by the Persians, then by the Saracens under Mohammed, and lastly by the Turks, who took Syria, Africa, and Egypt. These causes induced the reigning pope, in his distress, to seek new friends, and he applied to the king of France. Nearly all the wars which the northern barbarians carried on in Italy, it may be here remarked, were occasioned by the pontiffs; and the hordes, with which the country was inundated, were generally called in by them. The same mode of proceeding still continued, and kept Italy weak and unsettled. And, therefore, in relating the events which have taken place from those times to the present, the ruin of the empire will be no longer illustrated, but only the increase of the pontificate and of the other principalities which ruled Italy till the coming of Charles VIII. It will be seen how the popes, first with censures, and afterward with these and arms, mingled with indulgences, became both terrible and venerable; and how, from having abused both, they ceased to possess any influence, and were wholly dependent on the will of others for assistance in their wars.

But to return to the order of our narration. Gregory III. occupied the papacy, and the kingdom of the Lombards was held by Astolphus, who, contrary to agreement, seized Ravenna, and made war upon the pope. On this account, Gregory no longer relying upon the emperor of Constantinople, since he, for the reasons above given, was unable to assist him, and unwilling to trust the Lombards, for they had frequently broken their faith, had recourse to Pepin II., who, from being lord of Austria and Brabant, had become king of France; not so much by his own valor as by that of Charles Martel, his father, and Pepin his grandfather; for Charles Martel, being governor of the kingdom, effected the memorable defeat of the Saracens near Tours, upon the Loire, in which two hundred thousand of them are said to have been left dead upon the field of battle. Hence, Pepin, by his father’s reputation and his own abilities, became afterward king of France. To him Pope Gregory, as we have said, applied for assistance against the Lombards, which Pepin promised to grant, but desired first to see him and be honored with his presence. Gregory accordingly went to France, passing uninjured through the country of his enemies, so great was the respect they had for religion, and was treated honorably by Pepin, who sent an army into Italy, and besieged the Lombards in Pavia. King Astolphus, compelled by necessity, made proposals of peace to the French, who agreed to them at the entreaty of the pope — for he did not desire the death of his enemy, but that he should be converted and live. In this treaty, Astolphus promised to give to the church all the places he had taken from her; but the king’s forces having returned to France, he did not fulfill the agreement, and the pope again had recourse to Pepin, who sent another army, conquered the Lombards, took Ravenna, and, contrary to the wishes of the Greek emperor, gave it to the pope, with all the places that belonged to the exarchate, and added to them Urbino and the Marca. But Astolphus, while fulfilling the terms of his agreement, died, and Desiderius, a Lombard, who was duke of Tuscany, took up arms to occupy the kingdom, and demanded assistance of the pope, promising him his friendship. The pope acceding to his request, the other princes assented. Desiderius kept faith at first, and proceeded to resign the districts to the pope, according to the agreement made with Pepin, so that an exarch was no longer sent from Constantinople to Ravenna, but it was governed according to the will of the pope. Pepin soon after died, and was succeeded by his son Charles, the same who, on account of the magnitude and success of his enterprises, was called Charlemagne, or Charles the Great. Theodore I. now succeeded to the papacy, and discord arising between him and Desiderius, the latter besieged him in Rome. The pope requested assistance of Charles, who, having crossed the Alps, besieged Desiderius in Pavai, where he took both him and his children, and sent them prisoners to France. He then went to visit the pontiff at Rome, where he declared, THAT THE POPE, BEING VICAR OF GOD, COULD NOT BE JUDGED BY MEN. The pope and the people of Rome made him emperor; and thus Rome began to have an emperor of the west. And whereas the popes used to be established by the emperors, the latter now began to have need of the popes at their elections; the empire continued to lose its powers, while the church acquired them; and, by these means, she constantly extended her authority over temporal princes.

The Lombards, having now been two hundred and thirty-two years in the country, were strangers only in name, and Charles, wishing to reorganize the states of Italy, consented that they should occupy the places in which they had been brought up, and call the province after their own name, Lombardy. That they might be led to respect the Roman name, he ordered all that part of Italy adjoining to them, which had been under the exarchate of Ravenna, to be called Romagna. Besides this, he created his son Pepin, king of Italy, whose dominion extended to Benevento; all the rest being possessed by the Greek emperor, with whom Charles was in league. About this time Pascal I. occupied the pontificate, and the priests of the churches of Rome, from being near to the pope, and attending the elections of the pontiff, began to dignify their own power with a title, by calling themselves cardinals, and arrogated so great authority, that having excluded the people of Rome from the election of pontiff, the appointment of a new pope was scarcely ever made except from one of their own number: thus on the death of Pascal, the cardinal of St. Sabina was created pope by the title of Eugenius II. Italy having come into the hands of the French, a change of form and order took place, the popes acquiring greater temporal power, and the new authorities adopting the titles of count and marquis, as that of duke had been introduced by Longinus, exarch of Ravenna. After the deaths of some pontiffs, Osporco, a Roman, succeeded to the papacy; but on account of his unseemly appellation, he took the name of Sergius, and this was the origin of that change of names which the popes adopt upon their election to the pontificate.

In the meantime, the Emperor Charles died and was succeeded by Lewis (the Pious), after whose death so many disputes arose among his sons, that at the time of his grandchildren, the house of France lost the empire, which then came to the Germans; the first German emperor being called Arnolfus. Nor did the Carlovingian family lose the empire only; their discords also occasioned them the loss of Italy; for the Lombards, gathering strength, offended the pope and the Romans, and Arnolfo, not knowing where to seek relief, was compelled to create Berengarius, duke of Fruili, king of Italy. These events induced the Huns, who occupied Pannonia, to assail Italy; but, in an engagement with Berengarius, they were compelled to return to Pannonia, which had from them been named Hungary.

Romano was at this time emperor of Greece, having, while prefect of the army, dethroned Constantine; and as Puglia and Calabria, which, as before observed, were parts of the Greek empire, had revolted, he gave permission to the Saracans to occupy them; and they having taken possession of these provinces, besieged Rome. The Romans, Berengarius being then engaged in defending himself against the Huns, appointed Alberic, duke of Tuscany, their leader. By his valor Rome was saved from the Saracens, who, withdrawing from the siege, erected a fortress upon Mount Gargano, by means of which they governed Puglia and Calabria, and harassed the whole country. Thus Italy was in those times very grievously afflicted, being in constant warfare with the Huns in the direction of the Alps, and, on the Neapolitan side, suffering from the inroads of the Saracens. This state of things continued many years, occupying the reigns of three Berengarii, who succeeded each other; and during this time the pope and the church were greatly disturbed; the impotence of the eastern, and the disunion which prevailed among the western princes, leaving them without defense. The city of Genoa, with all her territory upon the rivers, having been overrun by the Saracens, an impulse was thus given to the rising greatness of Pisa, in which city multitudes took refuge who had been driven out of their own country. These events occurred in the year 931, when Otho, duke of Saxony, the son of Henry and Matilda, a man of great prudence and reputation, being made emperor, the pope Agapito, begged that he would come into Italy and relieve him from the tyranny of the Berengarii.

The States of Italy were governed in this manner: Lombardy was under Berengarius III. and Alfred his son; Tuscany and Romagna were governed by a deputy of the western emperor; Puglia and Calabria were partly under the Greek emperor, and partly under the Saracens; in Rome two consuls were annually chosen from the nobility, who governed her according to ancient custom; to these was added a prefect, who dispensed justice among the people; and there was a council of twelve, who each year appointed rectors for the places subject to them. The popes had more or less authority in Rome and the rest of Italy, in proportion as they were favorites of the emperor or of the most powerful states. The Emperor Otho came into Italy, took the kingdom from the Berengarii, in which they had reigned fifty-five years, and reinstated the pontiff in his dignity. He had a son and a nephew, each named Otho, who, one after the other, succeeded to the empire. In the reign of Otho III., Pope Gregory V. was expelled by the Romans; whereupon the emperor came into Italy and replaced him; and the pope, to revenge himself on the Romans, took from them the right to create an emperor, and gave it to three princes and three bishops of Germany; the princes of Brandenburg, Palatine, and Saxony, and the bishops of Magonza, Treveri, and Colonia. This occurred in the year 1002. After the death of Otho III. the electors created Henry, duke of Bavaria, emperor, who at the end of twelve years was crowned by Pope Stephen VIII. Henry and his wife Simeonda were persons of very holy life, as is seen by the many temples built and endowed by them, of which the church of St. Miniato, near Florence, is one. Henry died in 1024, and was succeeded by Conrad of Suabia; and the latter by Henry II., who came to Rome; and as there was a schism in the church of three popes, he set them all aside, and caused the election of Clement II., by whom he was crowned emperor.

CHAPTER IV

Nicholas II. commits the election of the pope to the cardinals — First example of a prince deprived of his dominions by the pope — Guelphs and Ghibellines — Establishment of the kingdom of Naples — Pope Urban II. goes to France — The first crusade — New orders of knighthood — Saladin takes from the Christians their possessions in the east — Death of the Countess Matilda — Character of Frederick Barbarossa — Schism — Frederick creates an anti-pope — Building of Alexandria in Puglia — Disgraceful conditions imposed by the pope upon Henry, king of England — Reconciliation of Frederick with the pope — The kingdom of Naples passes to the Germans — Orders of St. Dominic and St. Francis.

Italy was at this time governed partly by the people, some districts by their own princes, and others by the deputies of the emperor. The highest in authority, and to whom the others referred, was called the chancellor. Of the princes, the most powerful were Godfred and the Countess Matilda his wife, who was daughter of Beatrice, the sister of Henry II. She and her husband possessed Lucca, Parma, Reggio, Mantua, and the whole of what is now called THE PATRIMONY OF THE CHURCH. The ambition of the Roman people caused many wars between them and the pontiffs, whose authority had previously been used to free them from the emperors; but when they had taken the government of the city to themselves, and regulated it according to their own pleasure, they at once became at enmity with the popes, who received far more injuries from them than from any Christian potentate. And while the popes caused all the west to tremble with their censures, the people of Rome were in open rebellion against them; nor had they or the popes any other purpose, but to deprive each other of reputation and authority.

Nicholas II. now attained the papacy; and as Gregory V. had taken from the Romans the right to create an emperor, he in the same manner determined to deprive them of their share in the election of the pope; and confined the creation to the cardinals alone. Nor did this satisfy him; for, having agreed with the princes who governed Calabria and Puglia, with methods which we shall presently relate, he compelled the officers whom the Romans appointed to their different jurisdictions, to render obedience to him; and some of them he even deprived of their offices. After the death of Nicholas, there was a schism in the church; the clergy of Lombardy refused obedience to Alexander II., created at Rome, and elected Cadolo of Parma anti-pope; and Henry, who hated the power of the pontiffs, gave Alexander to understand that he must renounce the pontificate, and ordered the cardinals to go into Germany to appoint a new pope. He was the first who felt the importance of spiritual weapons; for the pope called a council at Rome, and deprived Henry of both the empire and the kingdom. Some of the people of Italy took the part of the pope, others of Henry; and hence arose the factions of the Guelphs and the Ghibellines; that Italy, relieved from the inundations of barbarians, might be distracted with intestine strife. Henry, being excommunicated, was compelled by his people to come into Italy, and fall barefooted upon his knees before the pope, and ask his pardon. This occurred in the year 1082. Nevertheless, there shortly afterward arose new discords between the pope and Henry; upon which the pope again excommunicated him, and the emperor sent his son, also named Henry, with an army to Rome, and he, with the assistance of the Romans, who hated the pope, besieged him in the fortress. Robert Guiscard them came from Puglia to his relief, but Henry had left before his arrival, and returned to Germany. The Romans stood out alone, and the city was sacked by Robert, and reduced to ruins. As from this Robert sprung the establishment of the kingdom of Naples, it seems not superfluous to relate particularly his actions and origin.

Disunion having arisen among the descendants of Charlemagne, occasion was given to another northern people, called Normans, to assail France and occupy that portion of the country which is now named Normandy. A part of these people came into Italy at the time when the province was infested with the Berengarii, the Saracans, and the Huns, and occupied some places in Romagna, where, during the wars of that period, they conducted themselves valiantly. Tancred, one of these Norman princes, had many children; among the rest were William, surnamed Ferabac, and Robert, called Guiscard. When the principality was governed by William, the troubles of Italy were in some measure abated; but the Saracens still held Sicily, and plundered the coasts of Italy daily. On this account William arranged with the princes of Capua and Salerno, and with Melorco, a Greek, who governed Puglia and Calabria for the Greek emperor, to attack Sicily; and it was agreed that, if they were victorious, each should have a fourth part of the booty and the territory. They were fortunate in their enterprise, expelled the Saracens, and took possession of the island; but, after the victory, Melorco secretly caused forces to be brought from Greece, seized Sicily in the name of the emperor, and appropriated the booty to himself and his followers. William was much dissatisfied with this, but reserved the exhibition of his displeasure for a suitable opportunity, and left Sicily with the princes of Salerno and Capua. But when they had parted from him to return to their homes, instead of proceeding to Romagna he led his people towards Puglia, and took Melfi; and from thence, in a short time, recovered from the Greek emperor almost the whole of Puglia and Calabria, over which provinces, in the time of pope Nicholas II. his brother Robert Guiscard was sovereign. Robert having had many disputes with his nephews for the inheritance of these states, requested the influence of the pope to settle them; which his holiness was very willing to afford, being anxious to make a friend of Robert, to defend himself against the emperor of Germany and the insolence of the Roman people, which indeed shortly followed, when, at the instance of Gregory, he drove Henry from Rome, and subdued the people. Robert was succeeded by his sons Roger and William, to whose dominion not only was Naples added, but all the places interjacent as far as Rome, and afterward Sicily, of which Roger became sovereign; but, upon William going to Constantinople, to marry the daughter of the emperor, his dominions were wrested from him by his brother Roger. Inflated with so great an acquisition, Roger first took the title of king of Italy, but afterward contented himself with that of king of Puglia and Sicily. He was the first who established and gave that name to this kingdom, which still retains its ancient boundaries, although its sovereigns have been of many families and countries. Upon the failure of the Normans, it came to the Germans, after these to the French, then to the Aragonese, and it is now held by the Flemish.

About this time Urban II. became pope and excited the hatred of the Romans. As he did not think himself safe even in Italy, on account of the disunion which prevailed, he directed his thoughts to a generous enterprise. With his whole clergy he went into France, and at Anvers, having drawn together a vast multitude of people, delivered an oration against the infidels, which so excited the minds of his audience, that they determined to undertake the conquest of Asia from the Saracens; which enterprise, with all those of a similar nature, were afterward called crusades, because the people who joined in them bore upon their armor and apparel the figure of a cross. The leaders were Godfrey, Eustace, and Baldwin of Bouillon, counts of Boulogne, and Peter, a hermit celebrated for his prudence and sagacity. Many kings and people joined them, and contributed money; and many private persons fought under them at their own expense; so great was the influence of religion in those days upon the minds of men, excited by the example of those who were its principal ministers. The proudest successes attended the beginning of this enterprise; for the whole of Asia Minor, Syria, and part of Egypt, fell under the power of the Christians. To commemorate these events the order of the Knights of Jerusalem was created, which still continues, and holds the island of Rhodes — the only obstacle to the power of the Mohammedans. The same events gave rise to the order of the Knights Templars, which, after a short time, on account of their shameless practices, was dissolved. Various fortunes attended the crusaders in the course of their enterprises, and many nations and individuals became celebrated accordingly. The kings of France and England joined them, and, with the Venetians, Pisans, and Genoese, acquired great reputation, till the time of Saladin, when, by whose talents, and the disagreement of the Christians among themselves, the crusaders were robbed of all that glory which they had at first acquired; and, after ninety years, were driven from those places which they had so honorably and happily recovered.

After the death of Urban, Pascal II. became pope, and the empire was under the dominion of Henry IV. who came to Rome pretending friendship for the pontiff but afterward put his holiness and all his clergy in prison; nor did he release them till it was conceded that he should dispose of the churches of Germany according to his own pleasure. About this time, the Countess Matilda died, and made the church heir to all her territories. After the deaths of Pascal and Henry IV. many popes and emperors followed, till the papacy was occupied by Alexander III. and the empire by Frederick, surnamed Barbarossa. The popes during this period had met with many difficulties from the people of Rome and the emperors; and in the time of Barbarossa they were much increased. Frederick possessed military talent, but was so full of pride that he would not submit to the pontiff. However, at his election to the empire he came to Rome to be crowned, and returned peaceably to Germany, where he did not long remain in the same mind, but came again into Italy to subdue certain places in Lombardy, which did not obey him. It happened at this time that the cardinal St. Clement, of a Roman family, separated from Alexander, and was made pope by some of the cardinals. The Emperor Frederick, being encamped at Cerma, Alexander complained to him of the anti-pope, and received for answer, that they were both to go to him, and, having heard each side, he would determine which was the true pope. This reply displeased Alexander; and, as he saw the emperor was inclined to favor the anti-pope, he excommunicated him, and then fled to Philip, king of France. Frederick, in the meantime, carrying on the war in Lombardy, destroyed Milan; which caused the union of Verona, Padua, and Vicenza against him for their common defense. About the same period the anti-pope died, and Frederick set up Guido of Cremona, in his stead.

The Romans, from the absence of the pope, and from the emperor being in Lombardy, had reacquired some authority in Rome, and proceeded to recover the obedience of those places which had been subject to them. And as the people of Tusculum refused to submit to their authority, they proceeded against them with their whole force; but these, being assisted by Frederick, routed the Roman army with such dreadful slaughter, that Rome was never after either so populous or so rich. Alexander now returned to the city, thinking he could be safe there on account of the enmity subsisting between the Romans and the emperor, and from the enemies which the latter had in Lombardy. But Frederick, setting aside every other consideration, led his forces and encamped before Rome; and Alexander fled to William, king of Puglia, who had become hair of that kingdom after the death of Roger. Frederick, however, withdrew from Rome on account of the plague which then prevailed, and returned to Germany. The cities of Lombardy in league against him, in order to command Pavia and Tortona, which adhered to the imperial party, built a city, to be their magazine in time of war, and named in Alexandria, in honor of the pope and in contempt of Frederick.

Guido the anti-pope died, and Giovanni of Fermo was appointed in his stead, who, being favored by the imperialists, lived at Montefiascone. Pope Alexander being at Tusculum, whither he had been called by the inhabitants, that with his authority he might defend them from the Romans, ambassadors came to him from Henry, king of England, to signify that he was not blamable for the death of Thomas à Becket, archbishop of Canterbury, although public report had slandered him with it. On this the pope sent two cardinals to England, to inquire into the truth of the matter; and although they found no actual charge against the king, still, on account of the infamy of the crime, and for not having honored the archbishop so much as he deserved, the sentence against the king of England was, that having called together the barons of his empire, he should upon oath before them affirm his innocence; that he should immediately send two hundred soldiers to Jerusalem, paid for one year; that, before the end of three years, he should himself proceed thither with as large an army as he could draw together; that his subjects should have the power of appealing to Rome when they thought proper; and that he should annul whatever acts had been passed in his kingdom unfavorable to ecclesiastical rule. These terms were all accepted by Henry; and thus a great king submitted to a sentence that in our day a private person would have been ashamed of. But while the pope exercised so great authority over distant princes, he could not compel obedience from the Romans themselves, or obtain their consent that he should remain in Rome, even though he promised to intermeddle only with ecclesiastical affairs.

About this time Frederick returned to Italy, and while he was preparing to carry on new wars against the pope, his prelates and barons declared that they would abandon him unless he reconciled himself with the church; so that he was obliged to go and submit to the pope at Venus, where a pacification was effected, but in which the pope deprived the emperor of all authority over Rome, and named William, king of Sicily and Puglia, a coadjutor with him. Frederick, unable to exist without war, joined the crusaders in Asia, that he might exercise that ambition against Mohammed, which he could not gratify against the vicars of Christ. And being near the river Cydnus, tempted by the clearness of its waters, bathed therein, took cold, and died. Thus the river did a greater favor to the Mohammedans than the pope’s excommunications had done to the Christians; for the latter only checked his pride, while the former finished his career. Frederick being dead, the pope had now only to suppress the contumacy of the Romans; and, after many disputes concerning the creation of consuls, it was agreed that they should elect them as they had been accustomed to do, but that these should not undertake the office, till they had first sworn to be faithful to the church. This agreement being made, Giovanni the anti-pope took refuge in Mount Albano, where he shortly afterward died. William, king of Naples, died about the same time, and the pope intended to occupy that kingdom on the ground that the king had left only a natural son named Tancred. But the barons would not consent, and wished that Tancred should be king. Celestine III., the then pope, anxious to snatch the kingdom from the hands of Tancred, contrived that Henry, son of Frederick should be elected emperor, and promised him the kingdom on the condition that he should restore to the church all the places that had belonged to her. To facilitate this affair, he caused Gostanza, a daughter of William, who had been placed in a monastery and was now old, to be brought from her seclusion and become the wife of Henry. Thus the kingdom of Naples passed from the Normans, who had been the founders of it, to the Germans. As soon as the affairs of Germany were arranged, the Emperor Henry came into Italy with Gostanza his wife, and a son about four years of age named Frederick; and, as Tancred was now dead, leaving only an infant named Roger, he took possession of the kingdom without much difficulty. After some years, Henry died in Sicily, and was succeeded in the kingdom by Frederick, and in the empire by Otho, duke of Saxony, who was elected through the influence of Innocent III. But as soon as he had taken the crown, contrary to the general expectation, he became an enemy of the pope, occupied Romagna, and prepared to attack the kingdom. On this account the pope excommunicated him; he was abandoned by every one, and the electors appointed Frederick, king of Naples, emperor in his stead. Frederick came to Rome for his coronation; but the pope, being afraid of his power, would not crown him, and endeavored to withdraw him from Italy as he had done Otho. Frederick returned to Germany in anger, and, after many battles with Otho, at length conquered him. Meanwhile, Innocent died, who, besides other excellent works, built the hospital of the Holy Ghost at Rome. He was succeeded by Honorius III., in whose time the religious orders of St. Dominic and St. Francis were founded, 1218. Honorius crowned Frederick, to whom Giovanni, descended from Baldwin, king of Jerusalem, who commanded the remainder of the Christian army in Asia and still held that title, gave a daughter in marriage; and, with her portion, conceded to him the title to that kingdom: hence it is that every king of Naples is called king of Jerusalem.

CHAPTER V

The state of Italy — Beginning of the greatness of the house of Este — Guelphs and Ghibellines — Death of the Emperor Frederick II. — Manfred takes possession of the kingdom of Naples — Movements of the Guelphs and Ghibellines in Lombardy — Charles of Anjou invested by the pope with the kingdom of Naples and Sicily — Restless policy of the popes — Ambitious views of pope Nicholas III. — Nephews of the popes — Sicilian vespers — The Emperor Rodolph allows many cities to purchase their independence — Institution of the jubilee — The popes at Avignon.

At this time the states of Italy were governed in the following manner: the Romans no longer elected consuls, but instead of them, and with the same powers, they appointed one senator, and sometimes more. The league which the cities of Lombardy had formed against Frederick Barbarossa still continued, and comprehended Milan, Brescia, Mantua, and the greater number of the cities of Romagna, together with Verona, Vicenza, Padua, and Trevisa. Those which took part with the emperor, were Cremona, Bergamo, Parma, Reggio, and Trento. The other cities and fortresses of Lombardy, Romagna, and the march of Trevisa, favored, according to their necessities, sometimes one party, sometimes the other.

In the time of Otho III. there had come into Italy a man called Ezelin, who, remaining in the country, had a son, and he too had a son named Ezelin. This person, being rich and powerful, took part with Frederick, who, as we have said, was at enmity with the pope; Frederick, at the instigation and with the assistance of Ezelin, took Verona and Mantua, destroyed Vicenza, occupied Padua, routed the army of the united cities, and then directed his course towards Tuscany. Ezelin, in the meantime, had subdued the whole of the Trevisian March, but could not prevail against Ferrara, which was defended by Azone da Este and the forces which the pope had in Lombardy; and, as the enemy were compelled to withdraw, the pope gave Ferrara in fee to this Azone, from whom are descended those who now govern that city. Frederick halted at Pisa, desirous of making himself lord of Tuscany; but, while endeavoring to discover what friends and foes he had in that province, he scattered so many seeds of discord as occasioned the ruin of Italy; for the factions of the Guelphs and Ghibellines multiplied, — those who supported the church taking the name of Guelphs, while the followers of the emperor were called Ghibellines, these names being first heard at Pistoia. Frederick, marching from Pisa, assailed and wasted the territories of the church in a variety of ways; so that the pope, having no other remedy, unfurled against him the banner of the cross, as his predecessor had done against the Saracens. Frederick, that he might be suddenly abandoned by his people, as Frederick Barbarossa and others had been, took into his pay a number of Saracens; and to bind them to him, and establish in Italy a firm bulwark against the church, without fear of papal maledictions, he gave them Nocera in the kingdom of Naples, that, having a refuge of their own, they might be placed in greater security. The pontificate was now occupied by Innocent IV., who, being in fear of Frederick, went to Genoa, and thence to France, where he appointed a council to be held at Lyons, where it was the intention of Frederick to attend, but he was prevented by the rebellion of Parma: and, being repulsed, he went into Tuscany, and from thence to Sicily, where he died, leaving his son Conrad in Suabia; and in Puglia, Manfred, whom he had created duke of Benevento, born of a concubine. Conrad came to take possession of the kingdom, and having arrived at Naples, died, leaving an infant son named Corradino, who was then in Germany. On this account Manfred occupied the state, first as guardian of Corradino, but afterward, causing a report to be circulated that Corradino had died, made himself king, contrary to the wishes of both the pope and the Neapolitans, who, however, were obliged to submit.

While these things were occurring in the kingdom of Naples, many movements took place in Lombardy between the Guelphs and the Ghibellines. The Guelphs were headed by a legate of the pope; and the Ghibelline party by Ezelin, who possessed nearly the whole of Lombardy beyond the Po; and, as in the course of the war Padua rebelled, he put to death twelve thousand of its citizens. But before its close he himself was slain, in the eightieth year of his age, and all the places he had held became free. Manfred, king of Naples, continued those enmities against the church which had been begun by his ancestors, and kept the pope, Urban IV., in continual alarm; so that, in order to subdue him, Urban summoned the crusaders, and went to Perugia to await their arrival. Seeing them few and slow in their approach, he found that more able assistance was necessary to conquer Manfred. He therefore sought the favor of France; created Louis of Anjou, the king’s brother, sovereign of Naples and Sicily, and excited him to come into Italy to take possession of that kingdom. But before Charles came to Rome the pope died, and was succeeded by Clement IV., in whose time he arrived at Ostia, with thirty galleys, and ordered that the rest of his forces should come by land. During his abode at Rome, the citizens, in order to attach him to them, made him their senator, and the pope invested him with the kingdom, on condition that he should pay annually to the church the sum of fifty thousand ducats; and it was decreed that, from thenceforth, neither Charles nor any other person, who might be king of Naples, should be emperor also. Charles marched against Manfred, routed his army, and slew him near Benevento, and then became sovereign of Sicily and Naples. Corradino, to whom, by his father’s will, the state belonged, having collected a great force in Germany, marched into Italy against Charles, with whom he came to an engagement at Tagliacozzo, was taken prisoner while endeavoring to escape, and being unknown, put to death.

Italy remained in repose until the pontificate of Adrian V. Charles, being at Rome and governing the city by virtue of his office of senator, the pope, unable to endure his power, withdrew to Viterbo, and solicited the Emperor Rodolph to come into Italy and assist him. Thus the popes, sometimes in zeal for religion, at others moved by their own ambition, were continually calling in new parties and exciting new disturbances. As soon as they had made a prince powerful, they viewed him with jealousy and sought his ruin; and never allowed another to rule the country, which, from their own imbecility, they were themselves unable to govern. Princes were in fear of them; for, fighting or running away, the popes always obtained the advantage, unless it happened they were entrapped by deceit, as occurred to Boniface VIII., and some others, who under pretense of friendship, were ensnared by the emperors. Rodolph did not come into Italy, being detained by the war in which he was engaged with the king of Bohemia. At this time Adrian died, and Nicholas III., of the Orsini family, became pontiff. He was a bold, ambitious man; and being resolved at any event to diminish the power of Charles, induced the Emperor Rodolph to complain that he had a governor in Tuscany favorable to the Guelphic faction, who after the death of Manfred had been replaced by him. Charles yielded to the emperor and withdrew his governor, and the pope sent one of his nephews, a cardinal, as governor for the emperor, who, for the honor done him, restored Romagna to the church, which had been taken from her by his predecessors, and the pope made Bertoldo Orsino duke of Romagna. As Nicholas now thought himself powerful enough to oppose Charles, he deprived him of the office of senator, and made a decree that no one of royal race should ever be a senator in Rome. It was his intention to deprive Charles of Sicily, and to this end he entered into a secret negotiation with Peter, king of Aragon, which took effect in the following papacy. He also had the design of creating two kings out of his family, the one in Lombardy, the other in Tuscany, whose power would defend the church from the Germans who might design to come into Italy, and from the French, who were in the kingdom of Naples and Sicily. But with these thoughts he died. He was the first pope who openly exhibited his own ambition; and, under pretense of making the church great, conferred honors and emolument upon his own family. Previous to his time no mention is made of the nephews or families of any pontiff, but future history is full of them; nor is there now anything left for them to attempt, except the effort to make the papacy hereditary. True it is, the princes of their creating have not long sustained their honors; for the pontiffs, being generally of very limited existence, did not get their plants properly established.

To Nicholas succeeded Martin IV., of French origin, and consequently favorable to the party of Charles, who sent him assistance against the rebellion of Romagna; and while they were encamped at Furli, Guido Bonatto, an astrologer, contrived that at an appointed moment the people should assail the forces of the king, and the plan succeeding, all the French were taken and slain. About this period was also carried into effect the plot of Pope Nicholas and Peter, king of Aragon, by which the Sicilians murdered all the French that were in that island; and Peter made himself sovereign of it, saying, that it belonged to him in the right of his wife Gostanza, daughter of Manfred. But Charles, while making warlike preparations for the recovery of Sicily, died, leaving a son, Charles II., who was made prisoner in Sicily, and to recover his liberty promised to return to his prison, if within three years he did not obtain the pope’s consent that the kings of Aragon should be invested with the kingdom of Sicily.

The Emperor Rodolph, instead of coming into Italy, gave the empire the advantage of having done so, by sending an ambassador, with authority to make all those cities free which would redeem themselves with money. Many purchased their freedom, and with liberty changed their mode of living. Adolpho of Saxony succeeded to the empire; and to the papacy, Pietro del Murrone, who took the name of Celestino; but, being a hermit and full of sanctity, after six months renounced the pontificate, and Boniface VIII. was elected.

After a time the French and Germans left Italy, and the country remained wholly in the hands of the Italians; but Providence ordained that the pope, when these enemies were withdrawn, should neither establish nor enjoy his authority, and raised two very powerful families in Rome, the Colonnesi and the Orsini, who with their arms, and the proximity of their abode, kept the pontificate weak. Boniface then determined to destroy the Colonnesi, and, besides excommunicating, endeavored to direct the weapons of the church against them. This, although it did them some injury, proved more disastrous to the pope; for those arms which from attachment to the faith performed valiantly against its enemies, as soon as they were directed against Christians for private ambition, ceased to do the will of those who wished to wield them. And thus the too eager desire to gratify themselves, caused the pontiffs by degrees to lose their military power. Besides what is just related, the pope deprived two cardinals of the Colonnesi family of their office; and Sciarra, the head of the house, escaping unknown, was taken by corsairs of Catalonia and put to the oar; but being afterward recognized at Marseilles, he was sent to Philip, king of France, who had been excommunicated and deprived of the kingdom. Philip, considering that in a war against the pontiff he would either be a loser or run great hazards, had recourse to deception, and simulating a wish to come to terms, secretly sent Sciarra into Italy, who, having arrived at Anagnia, where his holiness then resided, assembled a few friends, and in the night took him prisoner. And although the people of Anagnia set him at liberty shortly after, yet from grief at the injury he died mad. Boniface was founder of the jubilee in 1300, and fixed that it should be celebrated at each revolution of one hundred years. In those times various troubles arose between the Guelph and Ghibelline factions; and the emperors having abandoned Italy, many places became free, and many were occupied by tyrants. Pope Benedict restored the scarlet hat to the cardinals of the Colonnesi family, and reblessed Philip, king of France. He was succeeded by Clement V., who, being a Frenchman, removed the papal court to Avignon in 1305.

CHAPTER VI

The Emperor Henry comes into Italy — The Florentines take the part of the pope — The Visconti originate the duchy of Milan — Artifice of Maffeo Visconti against the family of de la Torre — Giovanni Galeazzo Visconti, first duke of Milan — The Emperor Louis in Italy — John, king of Bohemia, in Italy — League against the king of Bohemia and the pope’s legate — Origin of Venice — Liberty of the Venetians confirmed by Pepin and the Greek emperor — Greatness of Venice — Decline of Venice — Discord between the pope and the emperor — Giovanna, queen of Naples — Rienzi — The jubilee reduced to fifty years — Succession of the duke of Milan — Cardinal Egidio the pope’s legate — War between the Genoese and the Venetians.

At this time, Charles II. of Naples died, and was succeeded by his son Robert. Henry of Luxemburg had been elected to the empire, and came to Rome for his coronation, although the pope was not there. His coming occasioned great excitement in Lombardy; for he sent all the banished to their homes, whether they were Guelphs or Ghibellines; and in consequence of this, one faction endeavoring to drive out the other, the whole province was filled with war; nor could the emperor with all his endeavors abate its fury. Leaving Lombardy by way of Genoa, he came to Pisa, where he endeavored to take Tuscany from King Robert; but not being successful, he went to Rome, where he remained only a few days, being driven away by the Orsini with the consent of King Robert, and returned to Pisa; and that he might more securely make war upon Tuscany, and wrest the country from the hands of the king, he caused it to be assailed by Frederick, monarch of Sicily. But when he was in hope of occupying Tuscany and robbing the king of Naples of his dominions, he died, and was succeeded by Louis of Bavaria. About the same period, John XXII. attained the papacy, during whose time the emperor still continued to persecute the Guelphs and the church, but they were defended by Robert and the Florentines. Many wars took place in Lombardy between the Visconti and the Guelphs, and in Tuscany between Castruccio of Lucca and the Florentines. As the family of Visconti gave rise to the duchy of Milan, one of the five principalities which afterward governed Italy, I shall speak of them from a rather earlier date.

Milan, upon recovering from the ruin into which she had been thrown by Frederick Barbarossa, in revenge for her injuries, joined the league formed by the Lombard cities for their common defense; this restrained him, and for awhile preserved alive the interests of the church in Lombardy. In the course of the wars which followed, the family of La Torre became very potent in that city, and their reputation increased so long as the emperor possessed little authority in the province. But Frederick II. coming into Italy, and the Ghibelline party, by the influence of Ezelin having grown powerful, seeds of the same faction sprang up in all the cities. In Milan were the Visconti, who expelled the La Torres; these, however, did not remain out, for by agreement between the emperor and the pope they were restored to their country. For when the pope and his court removed to France, and the emperor, Henry of Luxemburg, came into Italy, with the pretext of going to Rome for his crown, he was received in Milan by Maffeo Visconti and Guido della Torre, who were then the heads of these families. But Maffeo, designing to make use of the emperor for the purpose of expelling Guido, and thinking the enterprise not difficult, on account of the La Torre being of the contrary faction to the imperial, took occasion, from the remarks which the people made of the uncivil behavior of the Germans, to go craftily about and excite the populace to arm themselves and throw off the yoke of these barbarians. When a suitable moment arrived, he caused a person in whom he confided to create a tumult, upon which the people took arms against the Germans. But no sooner was the mischief well on foot, than Maffeo, with his sons and their partisans, ran to Henry, telling him that all the disturbance had been occasioned by the La Torre family, who, not content to remain peaceably in Milan, had taken the opportunity to plunder him, that they might ingratiate themselves with the Guelphs of Italy and become princes in the city; they then bade him be of good cheer, for they, with their party, whenever he wished it, were ready to defend him with their lives. Henry, believing all that Maffeo told him, joined his forces to those of the Visconti, and attacking the La Torre, who were in various parts of the city endeavoring to quell the tumult, slew all upon whom they could lay hands, and having plundered the others of their property, sent them into exile. By this artifice, Maffeo Visconti became a prince of Milan. Of him remained Galeazzo and Azzo; and, after these, Luchino and Giovanni. Giovanni became archbishop of Milan; and of Luchino, who died before him, were left Bernabo and Galeazzo; Galeazzo, dying soon after, left a son called the Count of Virtu, who after the death of the archbishop, contrived the murder of his uncle, Bernabo, became prince of Milan, and was the first who had the title of duke. The duke left Filippo and Giovanmaria Angelo, the latter of whom being slain by the people of Milan, the state fell to Filippo; but he having no male heir, Milan passed from the family of Visconti to that of Sforza, in the manner to be related hereafter.

But to return to the point from which we deviated. The Emperor Louis, to add to the importance of his party and to receive the crown, came into Italy; and being at Milan, as an excuse for taking money of the Milanese, he pretended to make them free and to put the Visconti in prison; but shortly afterwards he released them, and, having gone to Rome, in order to disturb Italy with less difficulty, he made Piero della Corvara anti-pope, by whose influence, and the power of the Visconti, he designed to weaken the opposite faction in Tuscany and Lombardy. But Castruccio died, and his death caused the failure of the emperor’s purpose; for Pisa and Lucca rebelled. The Pisans sent Piero della Corvara a prisoner to the pope in France, and the emperor, despairing of the affairs of Italy, returned to Germany. He had scarcely left, before John king of Bohemia came into the country, at the request of the Ghibellines of Brescia, and made himself lord of that city and of Bergamo. And as his entry was with the consent of the pope, although he feigned the contrary, the legate of Bologna favored him, thinking by this means to prevent the return of the emperor. This caused a change in the parties of Italy; for the Florentines and King Robert, finding the legate was favorable to the enterprises of the Ghibellines, became foes of all those to whom the legate and the king of Bohemia were friendly. Without having regard for either faction, whether Guelph or Ghibelline, many princes joined them, of whom, among others, were the Visconti, the Della Scala, Filippo Gonzao of Mantua, the Carrara, and those of Este. Upon this the pope excommunicated them all. The king, in fear of the league, went to collect forces in his own country, and having returned with a large army, still found his undertaking a difficult one; so, seeing his error, he withdrew to Bohemia, to the great displeasure of the legate, leaving only Reggio and Modena guarded, and Parma in the care of Marsilio and Piero de’ Rossi, who were the most powerful men in the city. The king of Bohemia being gone, Bologna joined the league; and the leaguers divided among themselves the four cities which remained of the church faction. They agreed that Parma should pertain to the Della Scalla; Reggio to the Gonzaga; Modena to the family of Este, and Lucca to the Florentines. But in taking possession of these cities, many disputes arose which were afterward in a great measure settled by the Venetians. Some, perhaps, will think it a species of impropriety that we have so long deferred speaking of the Venetians, theirs being a republic, which, both on account of its power and internal regulations, deserves to be celebrated above any principality of Italy. But that this surprise may cease when the cause is known, I shall speak of their city from a more remote period; that everyone may understand what were their beginnings, and the causes which so long withheld them from interfering in the affairs of Italy.

When Attila, king of the Huns, besieged Aquileia, the inhabitants, after defending themselves a long time, began to despair of effecting their safety, and fled for refuge to several uninhabited rocks, situated at the point of the Adriatic Sea, now called the Gulf of Venice, carrying with them whatever movable property they possessed. The people of Padua, finding themselves in equal danger, and knowing that, having became master of Aquileia, Attila would next attack themselves, also removed with their most valuable property to a place on the same sea, called Rivo Alto, to which they brought their women, children, and aged persons, leaving the youth in Padua to assist in her defense. Besides these, the people of Monselice, with the inhabitants of the surrounding hills, driven by similar fears, fled to the same rocks. But after Attila had taken Aquileia, and destroyed Padua, Monselice, Vicenza, and Verona, the people of Padua and others who were powerful, continued to inhabit the marshes about Rivo Alto; and, in like manner, all the people of the province anciently called Venetia, driven by the same events, became collected in these marshes. Thus, under the pressure of necessity, they left an agreeable and fertile country to occupy one sterile and unwholesome. However, in consequence of a great number of people being drawn together into a comparatively small space, in a short time they made those places not only habitable, but delightful; and having established among themselves laws and useful regulations, enjoyed themselves in security amid the devastations of Italy, and soon increased both in reputation and strength. For, besides the inhabitants already mentioned, many fled to these places from the cities of Lombardy, principally to escape from the cruelties of Clefis king of the Lombards, which greatly tended to increase the numbers of the new city; and in the conventions which were made between Pepin, king of France, and the emperor of Greece, when the former, at the entreaty of the pope, came to drive the Lombards out of Italy, the duke of Benevento and the Venetians did not render obedience to either the one or the other, but alone enjoyed their liberty. As necessity had led them to dwell on sterile rocks, they were compelled to seek the means of subsistence elsewhere; and voyaging with their ships to every port of the ocean, their city became a depository for the various products of the world, and was itself filled with men of every nation.

For many years the Venetians sought no other dominion than that which tended to facilitate their commercial enterprises, and thus acquired many ports in Greece and Syria; and as the French had made frequent use of their ships in voyages to Asia, the island of Candia was assigned to them in recompense for these services. While they lived in this manner, their name spread terror over the seas, and was held in veneration throughout Italy. This was so completely the case, that they were generally chosen to arbitrate in controversies between the states, as occurred in the difference between the Colleagues, on account of the cities they had divided among themselves; which being referred to the Venetians, they awarded Brescia and Bergamo to the Visconti. But when, in the course of time, urged by their eagerness for dominion, they had made themselves masters of Padua, Vicenza, Trevisa, and afterward of Verona, Bergamo, and Brescia, with many cities in Romagna and the kingdom of Naples, other nations were impressed with such an opinion of their power, that they were a terror, not only to the princes of Italy, but to the ultramontane kings. These states entered into an alliance against them, and in one day wrested from them the provinces they had obtained with so much labor and expense; and although they have in latter times reacquired some portions, still possessing neither power nor reputation, like all the other Italian powers, they live at the mercy of others.

Benedict XII. having attained the pontificate and finding Italy lost, fearing, too, that the emperor would assume the sovereignty of the country, determined to make friends of all who had usurped the government of those cities which had been accustomed to obey the emperor; that they might have occasion to dread the latter, and unite with himself in the defense of Italy. To this end he issued a decree, confirming to all the tyrants of Lombardy the places they had seized. After making this concession the pope died, and was succeeded by Clement VI. The emperor, seeing with what a liberal hand the pontiff had bestowed the dominions of the empire, in order to be equally bountiful with the property of others, gave to all who had assumed sovereignty over the cities or territories of the church, the imperial authority to retain possession of them. By this means Galeotto Malatesti and his brothers became lords of Rimino, Pesaro, and Fano; Antonio da Montefeltro, of the Marca and Urbino; Gentile da Varano, of Camerino; Guido di Polenta, of Ravenna; Sinibaldo Ordelaffi, of Furli and Cesena; Giovanni Manfredi, of Faenza; Lodovico Alidossi, of Imola; and besides these, many others in divers places. Thus, of all the cities, towns, or fortresses of the church, few remained without a prince; for she did not recover herself till the time of Alexander VI., who, by the ruin of the descendants of these princes, restored the authority of the church.

The emperor, when he made the concession before named, being at Tarento, signified an intention of going into Italy. In consequence of this, many battles were fought in Lombardy, and the Visconti became lords of Parma. Robert king of Naples, now died, leaving only two grandchildren, the issue of his sons Charles, who had died a considerable time before him. He ordered that the elder of the two, whose name was Giovanna or Joan, should be heiress of the kingdom, and take for her husband Andrea, son of the king of Hungary, his grandson. Andrea had not lived with her long, before she caused him to be murdered, and married another cousin, Louis, prince of Tarento. But Louis, king of Hungary, and brother of Andrea, in order to avenge his death, brought forces into Italy, and drove Queen Joan and her husband out of the kingdom.

At this period a memorable circumstance took place at Rome. Niccolo di Lorenzo, often called Rienzi or Cola di Rienzi, who held the office of chancellor at Campidoglio, drove the senators from Rome and, under the title of tribune, made himself the head of the Roman republic; restoring it to its ancient form, and with so great reputation of justice and virtue, that not only the places adjacent, but the whole of Italy sent ambassadors to him. The ancient provinces, seeing Rome arise to new life, again raised their heads, and some induced by hope, others by fear, honored him as their sovereign. But Niccolo, notwithstanding his great reputation, lost all energy in the very beginning of his enterprise; and as if oppressed with the weight of so vast an undertaking, without being driven away, secretly fled to Charles, king of Bohemia, who, by the influence of the pope, and in contempt of Louis of Bavaria, had been elected emperor. Charles, to ingratiate himself with the pontiff, sent Niccolo to him, a prisoner. After some time, in imitation of Rienzi, Francesco Baroncegli seized upon the tribunate of Rome, and expelled the senators; and the pope, as the most effectual means of repressing him, drew Niccolo from his prison, sent him to Rome, and restored to him the office of tribune; so that he reoccupied the state and put Francesco to death; but the Colonnesi becoming his enemies, he too, after a short time, shared the same fate, and the senators were again restored to their office. The king of Hungary, having driven out Queen Joan, returned to his kingdom; but the pope, who chose to have the queen in the neighborhood of Rome rather than the king, effected her restoration to the sovereignty, on the condition that her husband, contenting himself with the title of prince of Tarento, should not be called king. Being the year 1350, the pope thought that the jubilee, appointed by Boniface VIII. to take place at the conclusion of each century, might be renewed at the end of each fifty years; and having issued a decree for the establishment of it, the Romans, in acknowledgment of the benefit, consented that he should send four cardinals to reform the government of the city, and appoint senators according to his own pleasure. The pope again declared Louis of Tarento, king, and in gratitude for the benefit, Queen Joan gave Avignon, her inheritance, to the church. About this time Luchino Visconti died, and his brother the archbishop, remaining lord of Milan, carried on many wars against Tuscany and his neighbors, and became very powerful. Bernabo and Galeazzo, his nephews, succeeded him; but Galeazzo soon after died, leaving Giovan Galeazzo, who shared the state with Bernabo. Charles, king of Bohemia, was then emperor, and the pontificate was occupied by Innocent VI., who sent Cardinal Egidio, a Spaniard, into Italy. He restored the reputation of the church, not only in Rome and Romagna, but throughout the whole of Italy; he recovered Bologna from the archbishop of Milan, and compelled the Romans to accept a foreign senator appointed annually by the pope. He made honorable terms with the Visconti, and routed and took prisoner, John Agut, an Englishman, who with four thousand English had fought on the side of the Ghibellines in Tuscany. Urban V., hearing of so many victories, resolved to visit Italy and Rome, whither also the emperor came; after remaining a few months, he returned to the kingdom of Bohemia, and the pope to Avignon. On the death of Urban, Gregory XI. was created pope; and, as the Cardinal Egidio was dead, Italy again recommenced her ancient discords, occasioned by the union of the other powers against the Visconti; and the pope, having first sent a legate with six thousand Bretons, came in person and established the papal court at Rome in 1376, after an absence of seventy-one years in France. To Gregory XI., succeeded Urban VI., but shortly afterwards Clement VI. was elected at Fondi by ten cardinals, who declared the appointment of Urban irregular. At this time, the Genoese threw off the yoke of the Visconti under whom they had lived many years; and between them and the Venetians several important battles were fought for the island of Tenedos. Although the Genoese were for a time successful, and held Venice in a state of siege during many months, the Venetians were at length victorious; and by the intervention of the pope, peace was made in the year 1381. In these wars, artillery was first used, having been recently invented by the Dutch.

CHAPTER VII

Schism in the church — Ambitious views of Giovanni Galeazzo Visconti — The pope and the Romans come to an agreement — Boniface IX. introduces the practice of Annates — Disturbance in Lombardy — The Venetians acquire dominion on terra firma — Differences between the pope and the people of Rome — Council of Pisa — Council of Constance — Filippo Visconti recovers his dominion — Giovanna II. of Naples — Political condition of Italy.

A schism having thus arisen in the church, Queen Joan favored the schismatic pope, upon which Urban caused Charles of Durazzo, descended from the kings of Naples, to undertake the conquest of her dominions. Having succeeded in his object, she fled to France, and he assumed the sovereignty. The king of France, being exasperated, sent Louis of Anjou into Italy to recover the kingdom for the queen, to expel Urban from Rome, and establish the anti-pope. But in the midst of this enterprise Louis died, and his people being routed returned to France. In this conjuncture the pope went to Naples, where he put nine cardinals into prison for having taken the part of France and the anti-pope. He then became offended with the king, for having refused to make his nephew prince of Capua; and pretending not to care about it, requested he would grant him Nocera for his habitation, but, having fortified it, he prepared to deprive the king of his dominions. Upon this the king pitched his camp before the place, and the pope fled to Naples, where he put to death the cardinals whom he had imprisoned. From thence he proceeded to Rome, and, to acquire influence, created twenty-nine cardinals. At this time Charles, king of Naples, went to Hungary, where, having been made king, he was shortly afterward killed in battle, leaving a wife and two children at Naples. About the same time Giovanni Galeazzo Visconti murdered Bernabo his uncle and took the entire sovereignty upon himself; and, not content with being duke of Milan and sovereign of the whole of Lombardy, designed to make himself master of Tuscany; but while he was intent upon occupying the province with the ultimate view of making himself king of Italy, he died. Boniface IX. succeeded Urban VI. The anti-pope, Clement VI., also died, and Benedict XIII. was appointed his successor.

Many English, Germans, and Bretons served at this period in the armies of Italy, commanded partly by those leaders who had from time to time authority in the country, and partly by such as the pontiffs sent, when they were at Avignon. With these warriors the princes of Italy long carried on their wars, till the coming of Lodovico da Cento of Romagna, who formed a body of Italian soldiery, called the Company of St. George, whose valor and discipline soon caused the foreign troops to fall into disrepute, and gave reputation to the native forces of the country, of which the princes afterward availed themselves in their wars with each other. The pope, Boniface IX., being at enmity with the Romans, went to Scesi, where he remained till the jubilee of 1400, when the Romans, to induce him to return to the city, consented to receive another foreign senator of his appointing, and also allowed him to fortify the castle of Saint Angelo: having returned upon these conditions, in order to enrich the church, he ordained that everyone, upon vacating a benefice, should pay a year’s value of it to the Apostolic Chamber.

After the death of Giovanni Galeazzo, duke of Milan, although he left two children, Giovanmaria and Filippo, the state was divided into many parts, and in the troubles which ensued Giovanmaria was slain. Filippo remained some time in the castle of Pavia, from which, through the fidelity and virtue of the castellan, he escaped. Among others who occupied cities possessed by his father, was Guglielmo della Scala, who, being banished, fell into the hands of Francesco de Carrera, lord of Padua, by whose means he recovered the state of Verona, in which he only remained a short time, for he was poisoned, by order of Francesco, and the city taken from him. These things occasioned the people of Vicenza, who had lived in security under the protection of the Visconti, to dread the greatness of the lord of Padua, and they placed themselves under the Venetians, who, engaging in arms with him, first took Verona and then Padua.

At this time Pope Boniface died, and was succeeded by Innocent VII. The people of Rome supplicated him to restore to them their fortresses and their liberty; but as he would not consent to their petition, they called to their assistance Ladislaus, king of Naples. Becoming reconciled to the people, the pope returned to Rome, and made his nephew Lodovico count of La Marca. Innocent soon after died, and Gregory XII. was created, upon the understanding to renounce the papacy whenever the anti-pope would also renounce it. By the advice of the cardinals, in order to attempt the reunion of the church, Benedict, the anti-pope, came to Porto Venere, and Gregory to Lucca, where they made many endeavors, but effected nothing. Upon this, the cardinals of both the popes abandoned them, Benedict going to Spain, and Gregory to Rimini. On the other hand, the cardinals, with the favor of Balthazar Cossa, cardinal and legate of Bologna, appointed a council at Pisa, where they created Alexander V., who immediately excommunicated King Ladislaus, and invested Louis of Anjou with the kingdom; this prince, with the Florentines, Genoese, and Venetians, attacked Ladislaus and drove him from Rome. In the head of the war Alexander died, and Balthazar Cossa succeeded him, with the title of John XXIII. Leaving Bologna, where he was elected, he went to Rome, and found there Louis of Anjou, who had brought the army from Provence, and coming to an engagement with Ladislaus, routed him. But by the mismanagement of the leaders, they were unable to prosecute the victory, so that the king in a short time gathered strength and retook Rome. Louis fled to Provence, the pope to Bologna; where, considering how he might diminish the power of Ladislaus, he caused Sigismund, king of Hungary, to be elected emperor, and advised him to come to Italy. Having a personal interview at Mantua, they agreed to call a general council, in which the church should be united; and having effected this, the pope thought he should be fully enabled to oppose the forces of his enemies.

At this time there were three popes, Gregory, Benedict, and Giovanni, which kept the church weak and in disrepute. The city of Constance, in Germany, was appointed for the holding of the council, contrary to the expectation of Pope John. And although the death of Ladislaus had removed the cause which induced the pope to call the council, still, having promised to attend, he could not refuse to go there. In a few months after his arrival at Constance he discovered his error, but it was too late; endeavoring to escape, he was taken, put into prison, and compelled to renounce the papacy. Gregory, one of the anti-popes, sent his renunciation; Benedict, the other, refusing to do the same, was condemned as a heretic; but, being abandoned by his cardinals, he complied, and the council elected Oddo, of the Colonnesi family, pope, by the title of Martin V. Thus the church was united under one head, after having been divided by many pontiffs.

Filippo Visconti was, as we have said, in the fortress of Pavia. But Fazino Cane, who in the affairs of Lombardy had become lord of Vercelli, Alessandria, Novara, and Tortona, and had amassed great riches, finding his end approach, and having no children, left his wife Beatrice heiress of his estates, and arranged with his friends that a marriage should be effected between her and Filippo. By this union Filippo became powerful, and reacquired Milan and the whole of Lombardy. By way of being grateful for these numerous favors, as princes commonly are, he accused Beatrice of adultery and caused her to be put to death. Finding himself now possessed of greater power, he began to think of warring with Tuscany and of prosecuting the designs of Giovanni Galeazzo, his father.

Ladislaus, king of Naples, at his death, left to his sister Giovanna the kingdom and a large army, under the command of the principal leaders of Italy, among the first of whom was Sforza of Cotignuola, reputed by the soldiery of that period to be a very valiant man. The queen, to shun the disgrace of having kept about her person a certain Pandolfello, whom she had brought up, took for her husband Giacopo della Marca, a Frenchman of the royal line, on the condition that he should be content to be called Prince of Tarento, and leave to her the title and government of the kingdom. But the soldiery, upon his arrival in Naples, proclaimed him king; so that between the husband and the wife wars ensued; and although they contended with varying success, the queen at length obtained the superiority, and became an enemy of the pope. Upon this, in order to reduce her to necessity, and that she might be compelled to throw herself into his lap, Sforza suddenly withdrew from her service without giving her any pervious notice of his intention to do so. She thus found herself at once unarmed, and not having any other source, sought the assistance of Alfonzo, king of Aragon and Sicily, adopted him as her son, and engaged Braccio of Montone as her captain, who was of equal reputation in arms with Sforza, and inimical to the pope, on account of his having taken possession of Perugia and some other places belonging to the church. After this, peace was made between the queen and the pontiff; but King Alfonzo, expecting she would treat him as she had her husband, endeavored secretly to make himself master of the strongholds; but, possessing acute observation, she was beforehand with him, and fortified herself in the castle of Naples. Suspicions increasing between them, they had recourse to arms, and the queen, with the assistance of Sforza, who again resumed her service, drove Alfonzo out of Naples, deprived him of his succession, and adopted Louis of Anjou in his stead. Hence arose new contests between Braccio, who took the part of Alfonzo, and Sforza, who defended the cause of the queen. In the course of the war, Sforza was drowned in endeavoring to pass the river Pescara; the queen was thus again unarmed, and would have been driven out of the kingdom, but for the assistance of Filippo Visconti, the duke of Milan, who compelled Alfonzo to return to Aragon. Braccio, undaunted at the departure of Alfonzo, continued the enterprise against the queen, and besieged L’Aquilla; but the pope, thinking the greatness of Braccio injurious to the church, received into his pay Francesco, the son of Sforza, who went in pursuit of Braccio to L’Aquilla, where he routed and slew him. Of Braccio remained Oddo, his son, from whom the pope took Perugia, and left him the state of Montone alone; but he was shortly afterward slain in Romagna, in the service of the Florentines; so that of those who had fought under Braccio, Niccolo Piccinino remained of greatest reputation.

Having continued our general narration nearly to the period which we at first proposed to reach, what remains is of little importance, except the war which the Florentines and Venetians carried on against Filippo duke of Milan, of which an account will be given when we speak particularly of Florence. I shall, therefore, continue it no further, briefly explaining the condition of Italy in respect of her princes and her arms, at the period to which we have now come. Joan II. held Naples, La Marca, the Patrimony and Romagna; some of these places obeyed the church, while others were held by vicars or tyrants, as Ferrara, Modena, and Reggio, by those of the House of Este; Faenza by the Manfredi; Imola by the Alidossi; Furli by the Ordelaffi; Rimini and Psaro by the Malatesti; and Camerino by those of Varano. Part of Lombardy was subject to the Duke Filippo, part to the Venetians; for all those who had held single states were set aside, except the House of Gonzaga, which ruled in Mantua. The greater part of Tuscany was subject to the Florentines. Lucca and Sienna alone were governed by their own laws; Lucca was under the Guinigi; Sienna was free. The Genoese, being sometimes free, at others, subject to the kings of France or the Visconti, lived unrespected, and may be enumerated among the minor powers.

None of the principal states were armed with their own proper forces. Duke Filippo kept himself shut up in his apartments, and would not allow himself to be seen; his wars were managed by commissaries. The Venetians, when they directed their attention to terra firma, threw off those arms which had made them terrible upon the seas, and falling into the customs of Italy, submitted their forces to the direction of others. The practice of arms being unsuitable to priests or women, the pope and Queen Joan of Naples were compelled by necessity to submit to the same system which others practiced from defect of judgment. The Florentines also adopted the same custom, for having, by their frequent divisions, destroyed the nobility, and their republic being wholly in the hands of men brought up to trade, they followed the usages and example of others.

Thus the arms of Italy were either in the hands of the lesser princes, or of men who possessed no state; for the minor princes did not adopt the practice of arms from any desire of glory, but for the acquisition of either property or safety. The others (those who possessed no state) being bred to arms from their infancy, were acquainted with no other art, and pursued war for emolument, or to confer honor upon themselves. The most noticed among the latter were Carmignola, Francesco Sforza, Niccolo Piccinino the pupil of Braccio, Agnolo della Pergola, Lorenzo di Micheletto Attenduli, il Tartaglia, Giacopaccio, Cecolini da Perugia, Niccolo da Tolentino, Guido Torello, Antonia dal Ponte ad Era, and many others. With these, were those lords of whom I have before spoken, to which may be added the barons of Rome, the Colonnesi and the Orsini, with other lords and gentlemen of the kingdoms of Naples and Lombardy, who, being constantly in arms, had such an understanding among themselves, and so contrived to accommodate things to their own convenience, that of those who were at war, most commonly both sides were losers; and they had made the practice of arms so totally ridiculous, that the most ordinary leader, possessed of true valor, would have covered these men with disgrace, whom, with so little prudence, Italy honored.

With these idle princes and such contemptible arms, my history must, therefore, be filled; to which, before I descend, it will be necessary, as was at first proposed, to speak of the origin of Florence, that it may be clearly understood what was the state of the city in those times, and by what means, through the labours of a thousand years, she became so imbecile.

BOOK II

CHAPTER I

The custom of ancient republics to plant colonies, and the advantage of it — Increased population tends to make countries more healthy — Origin of Florence — Aggrandizement of Florence — Origin of the name of Florence — Destruction of Florence by Totila — The Florentines take Fiesole — The first division in Florence, and the cause of it — Buondelmonti — Buondelmonti slain — Guelphs and Ghibellines in Florence — Guelphic families — Ghibelline families — The two factions come to terms.

Among the great and wonderful institutions of the republics and principalities of antiquity that have now gone into disuse, was that by means of which towns and cities were from time to time established; and there is nothing more worthy the attention of a great prince, or of a well-regulated republic, or that confers so many advantages upon a province, as the settlement of new places, where men are drawn together for mutual accommodation and defense. This may easily be done, by sending people to reside in recently acquired or uninhabited countries. Besides causing the establishment of new cities, these removals render a conquered country more secure, and keep the inhabitants of a province properly distributed. Thus, deriving the greatest attainable comfort, the inhabitants increase rapidly, are more prompt to attack others, and defend themselves with greater assurance. This custom, by the unwise practice of princes and republics, having gone into desuetude, the ruin and weakness of territories has followed; for this ordination is that by which alone empires are made secure, and countries become populated. Safety is the result of it; because the colony which a prince establishes in a newly acquired country, is like a fortress and a guard, to keep the inhabitants in fidelity and obedience. Neither can a province be wholly occupied and preserve a proper distribution of its inhabitants without this regulation; for all districts are not equally healthy, and hence some will abound to overflowing, while others are void; and if there be no method of withdrawing them from places in which they increase too rapidly, and planting them where they are too few the country would soon be wasted; for one part would become a desert, and the other a dense and wretched population. And, as nature cannot repair this disorder, it is necessary that industry should effect it, for unhealthy localities become wholesome when a numerous population is brought into them. With cultivation the earth becomes fruitful, and the air is purified with fires — remedies which nature cannot provide. The city of Venice proves the correctness of these remarks. Being placed in a marshy and unwholesome situation, it became healthy only by the number of industrious individuals who were drawn together. Pisa, too, on account of its unwholesome air, was never filled with inhabitants, till the Saracens, having destroyed Genoa and rendered her rivers unnavigable, caused the Genoese to migrate thither in vast numbers, and thus render her populous and powerful. Where the use of colonies is not adopted, conquered countries are held with great difficulty; districts once uninhabited still remain so, and those which populate quickly are not relieved. Hence it is that many places of the world, and particularly in Italy, in comparison of ancient times, have become deserts. This has wholly arisen and proceeded from the negligence of princes, who have lost all appetite for true glory, and of republics which no longer possess institutions that deserve praise. In ancient times, by means of colonies, new cities frequently arose, and those already begun were enlarged, as was the case with Florence, which had its beginning from Fiesole, and its increase from colonies.

It is exceedingly probable, as Dante and Giovanni Villani show, that the city of Fiesole, being situate upon the summit of the mountain, in order that her markets might be more frequented, and afford greater accommodation for those who brought merchandise, would appoint the place in which to told them, not upon the hill, but in the plain, between the foot of the mountain and the river Arno. I imagine these markets to have occasioned the first erections that were made in those places, and to have induced merchants to wish for commodious warehouses for the reception of their goods, and which, in time, became substantial buildings. And afterward, when the Romans, having conquered the Carthaginians, rendered Italy secure from foreign invasion, these buildings would greatly increase; for men never endure inconveniences unless some powerful necessity compels them. Thus, although the fear of war induces a willingness to occupy places strong and difficult of access, as soon as the cause of alarm is removed, men gladly resort to more convenient and easily attainable localities. Hence, the security to which the reputation of the Roman republic gave birth, caused the inhabitants, having begun in the manner described, to increase so much as to form a town, this was at first called the Villa Arnina. After this occurred the civil wars between Marius and Sylla; then those of Cæsar, and Pompey; and next those of the murderers of Cæsar, and the parties who undertook to avenge his death. Therefore, first by Sylla, and afterward by the three Roman citizens, who, having avenged the death of Cæsar, divided the empire among themselves, colonies were sent to Fiesole, which, either in part or in whole, fixed their habitations in the plain, near to the then rising town. By this increase, the place became so filled with dwellings, that it might with propriety be enumerated among the cities of Italy.

There are various opinions concerning the derivation of the word Florentia. Some suppose it to come from Florinus, one of the principal persons of the colony; others think it was originally not Florentia, but Fluentia, and suppose the word derived from fluente, or flowing of the Arno; and in support of their opinion, adduce a passage from Pliny, who says, “the Fluentini are near the flowing of the Arno.” This, however, may be incorrect, for Pliny speaks of the locality of the Florentini, not of the name by which they were known. And it seems as if the word Fluentini were a corruption, because Frontinus and Cornelius Tacitus, who wrote at nearly the same period as Pliny, call them Florentia and Florentini; for, in the time of Tiberius, they were governed like the other cities of Italy. Besides, Cornelius refers to the coming of ambassadors from the Florentines, to beg of the emperor that the waters of the Chiane might not be allowed to overflow their country; and it is not at all reasonable that the city should have two names at the same time. Therefore I think that, however derived, the name was always Florentia, and that whatever the origin might be, it occurred under the Roman empire, and began to be noticed by writers in the times of the first emperors.

When the Roman empire was afflicted by the barbarians, Florence was destroyed by Totila, king of the Ostrogoths; and after a period of two hundred and fifty years, rebuilt by Charlemagne; from whose time, till the year 1215, she participated in the fortune of the rest of Italy; and, during this period, first the descendants of Charles, then the Berengarii, and lastly the German emperors, governed her, as in our general treatise we have shown. Nor could the Florentines, during those ages, increase in numbers, or effect anything worthy of memory, on account of the influence of those to whom they were subject. Nevertheless, in the year 1010, upon the feast of St. Romolo, a solemn day with the Fiesolani, they took and destroyed Fiesole, which must have been performed either with the consent of the emperors, or during the interim from the death of one to the creation of his successor, when all assumed a larger share of liberty. But then the pontiffs acquired greater influence, and the authority of the German emperors was in its wane, all the places of Italy governed themselves with less respect for the prince; so that, in the time of Henry III. the mind of the country was divided between the emperor and the church. However, the Florentines kept themselves united until the year 1215, rendering obedience to the ruling power, and anxious only to preserve their own safety. But, as the diseases which attack our bodies are more dangerous and mortal in proportion as they are delayed, so Florence, though late to take part in the sects of Italy, was afterward the more afflicted by them. The cause of her first division is well known, having been recorded by Dante and many other writers; I shall, however, briefly notice it.

Among the most powerful families of Florence were the Buondelmonti and the Uberti; next to these were the Amidei and the Donati. Of the Donati family there was a rich widow who had a daughter of exquisite beauty, for whom, in her own mind, she had fixed upon Buondelmonti, a young gentleman, the head of the Buondelmonti family, as her husband; but either from negligence, or, because she thought it might be accomplished at any time, she had not made known her intention, when it happened that the cavalier betrothed himself to a maiden of the Amidei family. This grieved the Donati widow exceedingly; but she hoped, with her daughter’s beauty, to disturb the arrangement before the celebration of the marriage; and from an upper apartment, seeing Buondelmonti approach her house alone, she descended, and as he was passing she said to him, “I am glad to learn you have chosen a wife, although I had reserved my daughter for you;” and, pushing the door open, presented her to his view. The cavalier, seeing the beauty of the girl, which was very uncommon, and considering the nobility of her blood, and her portion not being inferior to that of the lady whom he had chosen, became inflamed with such an ardent desire to possess her, that, not thinking of the promise given, or the injury he committed in breaking it, or of the evils which his breach of faith might bring upon himself, said, “Since you have reserved her for me, I should be very ungrateful indeed to refuse her, being yet at liberty to choose;” and without any delay married her. As soon as the fact became known, the Amidei and the Uberti, whose families were allied, were filled with rage, and having assembled with many others, connections of the parties, they concluded that the injury could not be tolerated without disgrace, and that the only vengeance proportionate to the enormity of the offence would be to put Buondelmonti to death. And although some took into consideration the evils that might ensue upon it, Mosca Lamberti said, that those who talk of many things effect nothing, using that trite and common adage, Cosa fatta capo ha. Thereupon, they appointed to the execution of the murder Mosca himself, Stiatti Uberti, Lambertuccio Amidei, and Oderigo Fifanti, who, on the morning of Easter day, concealed themselves in a house of the Amidei, situate between the old bridge and St. Stephen’s, and as Buondelmonti was passing upon a white horse, thinking it as easy a matter to forget an injury as reject an alliance, he was attacked by them at the foot of the bridge, and slain close by a statue of Mars. This murder divided the whole city; one party espousing the cause of the Buondelmonti, the other that of the Uberti; and as these families possessed men and means of defense, they contended with each other for many years, without one being able to destroy the other.

Florence continued in these troubles till the time of Frederick II., who, being king of Naples, endeavored to strengthen himself against the church; and, to give greater stability to his power in Tuscany, favored the Uberti and their followers, who, with his assistance, expelled the Buondelmonti; thus our city, as all the rest of Italy had long time been, became divided into Guelphs and Ghibellines; and as it will not be superfluous, I shall record the names of the families which took part with each faction. Those who adopted the cause of the Guelphs were the Buondelmonti, Nerli, Rossi, Frescobaldi, Mozzi, Bardi, Pulci, Gherardini, Foraboschi, Bagnesi, Guidalotti, Sacchetti, Manieri, Lucardesi, Chiaramontesi, Compiobbesi, Cavalcanti, Giandonati, Gianfigliazzi, Scali, Gualterotti, Importuni, Bostichi, Tornaquinci, Vecchietti, Tosinghi, Arrigucci, Agli, Sizi, Adimari, Visdomini, Donati, Passi, della Bella, Ardinghi, Tedaldi, Cerchi. Of the Ghibelline faction were the Uberti, Manelli, Ubriachi, Fifanti, Amidei, Infangati, Malespini, Scolari, Guidi, Galli, Cappiardi, Lamberti, Soldanieri, Cipriani, Toschi, Amieri, Palermini, Migliorelli, Pigli, Barucci, Cattani, Agolanti, Brunelleschi, Caponsacchi, Elisei, Abati, Tidaldini, Giuochi, and Galigai. Besides the noble families on each side above enumerated, each party was joined by many of the higher ranks of the people, so that the whole city was corrupted with this division. The Guelphs being expelled, took refuge in the Upper Val d’Arno, where part of their castles and strongholds were situated, and where they strengthened and fortified themselves against the attacks of their enemies. But, upon the death of Frederick, the most unbiased men, and those who had the greatest authority with the people, considered that it would be better to effect the reunion of the city, than, by keeping her divided, cause her ruin. They therefore induced the Guelphs to forget their injuries and return, and the Ghibellines to lay aside their jealousies and receive them with cordiality.

CHAPTER II

New form of government in Florence — Military establishments — The greatness of Florence — Movements of the Ghibellines — Ghibellines driven out of the city — Guelphs routed by the forces of the king of Naples — Florence in the power of the king of Naples — Project of the Ghibellines to destroy Florence opposed by Farinata degli Uberti — Adventures of the Guelphs of Florence — The pope gives his standard to the Guelphs — Fears of the Ghibellines and their preparations for the defense of their power — Establishment of trades’ companies, and their authority — Count Guido Novello expelled — He goes to Prato — The Guelphs restored to the city — The Ghibellines quit Florence — The Florentines reform the government in favor of the Guelphs — The pope endeavors to restore the Ghibellines and excommunicates Florence — Pope Nicholas III. endeavors to abate the power of Charles king of Naples.

Being united, the Florentines thought the time favorable for the ordination of a free government, and that it would be desirable to provide their means of defense before the new emperor should acquire strength. They therefore divided the city into six parts, and elected twelve citizens, two for each sixth, to govern the whole. These were called Anziani, and were elected annually. To remove the cause of those enmities which had been observed to arise from judicial decisions, they provided two judges from some other state, — one called captain of the people, the other podesta, or provost, — whose duty it was to decide in cases, whether civil or criminal, which occurred among the people. And as order cannot be preserved without a sufficient force for the defense of it, they appointed twenty banners in the city, and seventy-six in the country, upon the rolls of which the names of all the youth were armed; and it was ordered that everyone should appear armed, under his banner, whenever summoned, whether by the captain of the people or the Anziani. They had ensigns according to the kind of arms they used, the bowmen being under one ensign, and the swordsmen, or those who carried a target, under another; and every year, upon the day of Pentecost, ensigns were given with great pomp to the new men, and new leaders were appointed for the whole establishment. To give importance to their armies, and to serve as a point of refuge for those who were exhausted in the fight, and from which, having become refreshed, they might again make head against the enemy, they provided a large car, drawn by two oxen, covered with red cloth, upon which was an ensign of white and red. When they intended to assemble the army, this car was brought into the New Market, and delivered with pomp to the heads of the people. To give solemnity to their enterprises, they had a bell called Martinella, which was rung during a whole month before the forces left the city, in order that the enemy might have time to provide for his defense; so great was the virtue then existing among men, and with so much generosity of mind were they governed, that as it is now considered a brave and prudent act to assail an unprovided enemy, in those days it would have been thought disgraceful, and productive only of a fallacious advantage. This bell was also taken with the army, and served to regulate the keeping and relief of guard, and other matters necessary in the practice of war.

With these ordinations, civil and military, the Florentines established their liberty. Nor is it possible to imagine the power and authority Florence in a short time acquired. She became not only the head of Tuscany, but was enumerated among the first cities of Italy, and would have attained greatness of the most exalted kind, had she not been afflicted with the continual divisions of her citizens. They remained under the this government ten years, during which time they compelled the people of Pistoria, Arezzo, and Sienna, to enter into league with them; and returning with the army from Sienna, they took Volterra, destroyed some castles, and led the inhabitants to Florence. All these enterprises were effected by the advice of the Guelphs, who were much more powerful than the Ghibellines, for the latter were hated by the people as well on account of their haughty bearing while in power, during the time of Frederick, as because the church party was in more favor than that of the emperor; for with the aid of the church they hoped to preserve their liberty, but, with the emperor, they were apprehensive of losing it.

The Ghibellines, in the meantime, finding themselves divested of authority, could not rest, but watched for an occasion of repossessing the government; and they thought the favorable moment come, when they found that Manfred, son of Frederick, had made himself sovereign of Naples, and reduced the power of the church. They, therefore, secretly communicated with him, to resume the management of the state, but could not prevent their proceedings from coming to the knowledge of the Anziani, who immediately summoned the Uberti to appear before them; but instead of obeying, they took arms and fortified themselves in their houses. The people, enraged at this, armed themselves, and with the assistance of the Guelphs, compelled them to quit the city, and, with the whole Ghibelline party, withdraw to Sienna. They then asked assistance of Manfred king of Naples, and by the able conduct of Farinata degli Uberti, the Guelphs were routed by the king’s forces upon the river Arbia, with so great slaughter, that those who escaped, thinking Florence lost, did not return thither, but sought refuge at Lucca.

Manfred sent the Count Giordano, a man of considerable reputation in arms, to command his forces. He after the victory, went with the Ghibellines to Florence, and reduced the city entirely to the king’s authority, annulling the magistracies and every other institution that retained any appearance of freedom. This injury, committed with little prudence, excited the ardent animosity of the people, and their enmity against the Ghibellines, whose ruin it eventually caused, was increased to the highest pitch. The necessities of the kingdom compelling the Count Giordano to return to Naples, he left at Florence as regal vicar the Count Guido Novallo, lord of Casentino, who called a council of Ghibellines at Empoli. There it was concluded, with only one dissenting voice, that in order to preserve their power in Tuscany, it would be necessary to destroy Florence, as the only means of compelling the Guelphs to withdraw their support from the party of the church. To this so cruel a sentence, given against such a noble city, there was not a citizen who offered any opposition, except Farinata degli Uberti, who openly defended her, saying he had not encountered so many dangers and difficulties, but in the hope of returning to his country; that he still wished for what he had so earnestly sought, nor would he refuse the blessing which fortune now presented, even though by using it, he were to become as much an enemy of those who thought otherwise, as he had been of the Guelphs; and that no one need be afraid the city would occasion the ruin of their country, for he hoped that the valor which had expelled the Guelphs, would be sufficient to defend her. Farinata was a man of undaunted resolution, and excelled greatly in military affairs: being the head of the Ghibelline party, and in high estimation with Manfred, his authority put a stop to the discussion, and induced the rest to think of some other means of preserving their power.

The Lucchese being threatened with the anger of the count, for affording refuge to the Guelphs after the battle of the Arbia, could allow them to remain no longer; so leaving Lucca, they went to Bologna, from whence they were called by the Guelphs of Parma against the Ghibellines of that city, where, having overcome the enemy, the possessions of the latter were assigned to them; so that having increased in honors and riches, and learning that Pope Clement had invited Charles of Anjou to take the kingdom from Manfred, they sent ambassadors to the pope to offer him their services. His holiness not only received them as friends, but gave them a standard upon which his insignia were wrought. It was ever after borne by the Guelphs in battle, and is still used at Florence. Charles having taken the kingdom from Manfred, and slain him, to which success the Guelphs of Florence had contributed, their party became more powerful, and that of the Ghibellines proportionately weaker. In consequence of this, those who with Count Novello governed the city, thought it would be advisable to attach to themselves, with some concession, the people whom they had previously aggravated with every species of injury; but these remedies which, if applied before the necessity came would have been beneficial, being offered when they were no longer considered favors, not only failed of producing any beneficial results to the donors, but hastened their ruin. Thinking, however, to win them to their interests, they restored some of the honors of which they had deprived them. They elected thirty-six citizens from the higher rank of the people, to whom, with two cavaliers, knights or gentlemen, brought from Bologna, the reformation of the government of the city was confided. As soon as they met, they classed the whole of the people according to their arts or trades, and over each art appointed a magistrate, whose duty was to distribute justice to those placed under him. They gave to each company or trade a banner, under which every man was expected to appear armed, whenever the city required it. These arts were at first twelve, seven major and five minor. The minor arts were afterward increased to fourteen, so that the whole made, as at present, twenty-one. The thirty-six reformers also effected other changes for the common good.

Count Guido proposed to lay a tax upon the citizens for the support of the soldiery; but during the discussion found so much difficulty, that he did not dare to use force to obtain it; and thinking he had now lost the government, called together the leaders of the Ghibellines, and they determined to wrest from the people those powers which they had with so little prudence conceded. When they thought they had sufficient force, the thirty-six being assembled, they caused a tumult to be raised, which so alarmed them that they retired to their houses, when suddenly the banners of the Arts were unfurled, and many armed men drawn to them. These, learning that Count Guido and his followers were at St. John’s, moved toward the Holy Trinity, and chose Giovanni Soldanieri for their leader. The count, on the other hand, being informed where the people were assembled, proceeded in that direction; nor did the people shun the fight, for, meeting their enemies where now stands the residence of the Tornaquinci, they put the count to flight, with the loss of many of his followers. Terrified with this result, he was afraid his enemies would attack him in the night, and that his own party, finding themselves beaten, would murder him. This impression took such hold of his mind that, without attempting any other remedy, he sought his safety rather in flight than in combat, and, contrary to the advice of the rectors, went with all his people to Prato. But, on finding himself in a place of safety, his fears fled; perceiving his error he wished to correct it, and on the following day, as soon as light appeared, he returned with his people to Florence, to enter the city by force which he had abandoned in cowardice. But his design did not succeed; for the people, who had had difficulty in expelling him, kept him out with facility; so that with grief and shame he went to the Casentino, and the Ghibellines withdrew to their villas.

The people being victorious, by the advice of those who loved the good of the republic, determined to reunite the city, and recall all the citizens as well Guelph as Ghibelline, who yet remained without. The Guelphs returned, after having been expelled six years; the recent offences of the Ghibellines were forgiven, and themselves restored to their country. They were, however, most cordially hated, both by the people and the Guelphs, for the latter could not forget their exile, and the former but too well remembered their tyranny when they were in power; the result was, that the minds of neither party became settled.

While affairs were in this state at Florence, a report prevailed that Corradino, nephew of Manfred, was coming with a force from Germany, for the conquest of Naples; this gave the Ghibellines hope of recovering power, and the Guelphs, considering how they should provide for their security, requested assistance from Charles for their defense, in case of the passage of Corradino. The coming of the forces of Charles rendered the Guelphs insolent, and so alarmed the Ghibellines that they fled the city, without being driven out, two days before the arrival of the troops.

The Ghibellines having departed, the Florentines reorganized the government of the city, and elected twelve men who, as the supreme power, were to hold their magistracy two months, and were not called Anziani or “ancients,” but Buono Uomini or “good men.” They also formed a council of eighty citizens, which they called the Credenza. Besides these, from each sixth, thirty citizens were chosen, who, with the Credenza and the twelve Buono Uomini, were called the General Council. They also appointed another council of one hundred and twenty citizens, elected from the people and the nobility, to which all those things were finally referred that had undergone the consideration of the other councils, and which distributed the offices of the republic. Having formed this government, they strengthened the Guelphic party by appointing its friends to the principal offices of state, and a variety of other measures, that they might be enabled to defend themselves against the Ghibellines, whose property they divided into three parts, one of which was applied to the public use, another to the Capitani, and the third was assigned to the Guelphs, in satisfaction of the injuries they had received. The pope, too, in order to keep Tuscany in the Guelphic interest, made Charles imperial vicar over the province. While the Florentines, by virtue of the new government, preserved their influence at home by laws, and abroad with arms, the pope died, and after a dispute, which continued two years, Gregory X. was elected, being then in Syria, where he had long lived; but not having witnessed the working of parties, he did not estimate them in the manner his predecessors had done, and passing through Florence on his way to France, he thought it would be the office of a good pastor to unite the city, and so far succeeded that the Florentines consented to receive the Syndics of the Ghibellines in Florence to consider the terms of their recall. They effected an agreement, but the Ghibellines without were so terrified that they did not venture to return. The pope laid the whole blame upon the city, and being enraged excommunicated her, in which state of contumacy she remained as long as the pontiff lived; but was reblessed by his successor Innocent V.

The pontificate was afterward occupied by Nicholas III. of the Orsini family. It has to be remarked that it was invariably the custom of the popes to be jealous of those whose power in Italy had become great, even when its growth had been occasioned by the favors of the church; and as they always endeavored to destroy it, frequent troubles and changes were the result. Their fear of a powerful person caused them to increase the influence of one previously weak; his becoming great caused him also to be feared, and his being feared made them seek the means of destroying him. This mode of thinking and operation occasioned the kingdom of Naples to be taken from Manfred and given to Charles, but as soon as the latter became powerful his ruin was resolved upon. Actuated by these motives, Nicholas III. contrived that, with the influence of the emperor, the government of Tuscany should be taken from Charles, and Latino his legate was therefore sent into the province in the name of the empire.

CHAPTER III

Changes in Florence — The Ghibellines recalled — New form of government in Florence — The Signory created — Victory over the Aretins — The Gonfalonier of Justice created — Ubaldo Ruffoli the first Gonfalonier — Giano della Bella — New reform by his advice — Giano della Bella becomes a voluntary exile — Dissensions between the people and the nobility — The tumults composed — Reform of Government — Public buildings — The prosperous state of the city.

Florence was at this time in a very unhappy condition; for the great Guelphic families had become insolent, and set aside the authority of the magistrates; so that murders and other atrocities were daily committed, and the perpetrators escaped unpunished, under the protection of one or other of the nobility. The leaders of the people, in order to restrain this insolence, determined to recall those who had been expelled, and thus gave the legate an opportunity of uniting the city. The Ghibellines returned, and, instead of twelve governors, fourteen were appointed, seven for each party, who held their office one year, and were to be chosen by the pope. The Florentines lived under this government two years, till the pontificate of Martin, who restored to Charles all the authority which had been taken from him by Nicholas, so that parties were again active in Tuscany; for the Florentines took arms against the emperor’s governor, and to deprive the Ghibellines of power, and restrain the nobility, established a new form of government. This was in the year 1282, and the companies of the Arts, since magistrates had been appointed and colors given to them, had acquired so great influence, that of their own authority they ordered that, instead of fourteen citizens, three should be appointed and called Priors, to hold the government of the republic two months, and chosen from either the people or the nobility. After the expiration of the first magistracy they were augmented to six, that one might be chosen from each sixth of the city, and this number was preserved till the year 1342, when the city was divided into quarters, and the Priors became eight, although upon some occasions during the interim they were twelve.

This government, as will be seen hereafter, occasioned the ruin of the nobility; for the people by various causes excluded them from all participation in it, and then trampled upon them without respect. The nobles at first, owing to their divisions among themselves, made no opposition; and each being anxious to rob the other of influence in the state, they lost it altogether. To this government a palace was given, in which they were to reside constantly, and all requisite officers were appointed; it having been previously the custom of councils and magistrates to assemble in churches. At first they were only called Priors, but to increase their distinction the word signori, or lords, was soon afterward adopted. The Florentines remained for some time in domestic quiet, during which they made war with the Aretins for having expelled the Guelphs, and obtained a complete victory over them at Campaldino. The city being increased in riches and population, it was found expedient to extend the walls, the circle of which was enlarged to the extent it at present remains, although its diameter was previously only the space between the old bridge and the church of St. Lorenzo.

Wars abroad and peace within the city had caused the Guelph and Ghibelline factions to become almost extinct; and the only party feeling which seemed occasionally to glow, was that which naturally exists in all cities between the higher classes and the people; for the latter, wishing to live in conformity with the laws, and the former to be themselves the rulers of the people, it was not possible for them to abide in perfect amity together. This ungenial disposition, while their fear of the Ghibellines kept them in order, did not discover itself, but no sooner were they subdued than it broke forth, and not a day passed without some of the populace being injured, while the laws were insufficient to procure redress, for every noble with his relations and friends defended himself against the forces of the Priors and the Capitano. To remedy this evil, the leaders of the Arts’ companies ordered that every Signory at the time of entering upon the duties of office should appoint a Gonfalonier of Justice, chosen from the people, and place a thousand armed men at his disposal divided into twenty companies of fifty men each, and that he, with his gonfalon or banner and his forces, should be ready to enforce the execution of the laws whenever called upon, either by the Signors themselves or the Capitano. The first elected to this high office was Ubaldo Ruffoli. This man unfurled his gonfalon, and destroyed the houses of the Galletti, on account of a member of that family having slain one of the Florentine people in France. The violent animosities among the nobility enabled the companies of the Arts to establish this law with facility; and the former no sooner saw the provision which had been made against them than they felt the acrimonious spirit with which it was enforced. At first it impressed them with greater terror, but they soon after returned to their accustomed insolence, for one or more of their body always making part of the Signory, gave them opportunities of impeding the Gonfalonier, so that he could not perform the duties of his office. Besides this, the accuser always required a witness of the injury he had received, and no one dared to give evidence against the nobility. Thus in a short time Florence again fell into the same disorders as before, and the tyranny exercised against the people was as great as ever; for the decisions of justice were either prevented or delayed, and sentences were not carried into execution.

In this unhappy state, the people not knowing what to do, Giano della Bella, of a very noble family, and a lover of liberty, encouraged the heads of the Arts to reform the constitution of the city; and by his advice it was ordered that the Gonfalonier should reside with the Priors, and have four thousand men at his command. They deprived the nobility of the right to sit in the Signory. They condemned the associates of a criminal to the same penalty as himself, and ordered that public report should be taken as evidence. By these laws, which were called the ordinations of justice, the people acquired great influence, and Giano della Bella not a small share of trouble; for he was thoroughly hated by the great, as the destroyer of their power, while the opulent among the people envied him, for they thought he possessed too great authority. This became very evident upon the first occasion that presented itself.

It happened that a man from the class of the people was killed in a riot, in which several of the nobility had taken a part, and among the rest Corso Donati, to whom, as the most forward of the party, the death was attributed. He was, therefore, taken by the captain of the people, and whether he was really innocent of the crime or the Capitano was afraid of condemning him, he was acquitted. This acquittal displeased the people so much, that, seizing their arms, they ran to the house of Giano della Bella, to beg that he would compel the execution of those laws which he had himself made. Giano, who wished Corso to be punished, did not insist upon their laying down their arms, as many were of opinion he ought to have done, but advised them to go to the Signory, complain of the fact, and beg that they would take it into consideration. The people, full of wrath, thinking themselves insulted by the Capitano and abandoned by Giano della Bella, instead of going to the Signory went to the palace of the Capitano, of which they made themselves masters, and plundered it.

This outrage displeased the whole city, and those who wished the ruin of Giano laid the entire blame upon him; and as in the succeeding Signory there was an enemy of his, he was accused to the Capitano as the originator of the riot. While the case was being tried, the people took arms, and, proceeding to his house, offered to defend him against the Signory and his enemies. Giano, however, did not wish to put this burst of popular favor to the proof, or trust his life to the magistrates, for he feared the malignity of the latter and the instability of the former; so, in order to remove an occasion for his enemies to injure him, or his friends to offend the laws, he determined to withdraw, deliver his countrymen from the fear they had of him, and, leaving the city which at his own charge and peril he had delivered from the servitude of the great, become a voluntary exile.

After the departure of Giano della Bella the nobility began to entertain hopes of recovering their authority; and judging their misfortune to have arisen from their divisions, they sent two of their body to the Signory, which they thought was favorable to them, to beg they would be pleased to moderate the severity of the laws made against them. As soon as their demand became known, the minds of the people were much excited; for they were afraid the Signors would submit to them; and so, between the desire of the nobility and the jealousy of the people, arms were resorted to. The nobility were drawn together in three places: near the church of St. John, in the New Market, and in the Piazza of the Mozzi, under three leaders, Forese Adimari, Vanni de Mozzi, and Geri Spini. The people assembled in immense numbers, under their ensigns, before the palace of the Signory, which at that time was situated near St. Procolo; and, as they suspected the integrity of the Signory, they added six citizens to their number to take part in the management of affairs.

While both parties were preparing for the fight, some individuals, as well of the people as of the nobility, accompanied by a few priests of respectable character, mingled among them for the purpose of effecting a pacification, reminding the nobility that their loss of power, and the laws which were made against them, had been occasioned by their haughty conduct, and the mischievous tendency of their proceedings; that resorting to arms to recover by force what they had lost by illiberal measures and disunion, would tend to the destruction of their country and increase the difficulties of their own position; that they should bear in mind that the people, both in riches, numbers, and hatred, were far stronger than they; and that their nobility, on account of which they assumed to be above others, did not contribute to win battles, and would be found, when they came to arms, to be but an empty name, and insufficient to defend them against so many. On the other hand, they reminded the people that it is not prudent to wish always to have the last blow; that it is an injudicious step to drive men to desperation, for he who is without hope is also without fear; that they ought not to forget that in the wars the nobility had always done honor to the country, and therefore it was neither wise nor just to pursue them with so much bitterness; and that although the nobility could bear with patience the loss of the supreme magistracy, they could not endure that, by the existing laws, it should be in the power of everyone to drive them from their country; and, therefore, it would be well to qualify these laws, and, in furtherance of so good a result, be better to lay down their arms than, trusting to numbers, try the fortune of a battle; for it is often seen that the many are overcome by the few. Variety of opinion was found among the people; many wished to decide the question by arms at once, for they were assured it would have to be done some time, and that it would be better to do so then than delay till the enemy had acquired greater strength; and that if they thought a mitigation of the laws would satisfy them, that then they would be glad to comply, but that the pride of the nobility was so great they would not submit unless they were compelled. To many others, who were more peaceable and better disposed, it appeared a less evil to qualify the laws a little than to come to battle; and their opinion prevailing, it was provided that no accusation against the nobility could be received unless supported with sufficient testimony.

Although arms were laid aside, both parties remained full of suspicion, and each fortified itself with men and places of strength. The people reorganized the government, and lessened the number of its officers, to which measure they were induced by finding that the Signors appointed from the families, of which the following were the heads, had been favorable to the nobility, viz.: the Mancini, Magalotti, Altoviti, Peruzzi, and Cerretani. Having settled the government, for the greater magnificence and security of the Signory, they laid the foundation of their palace; and to make space for the piazza, removed the houses that had belonged to the Uberti; they also at the same period commenced the public prisons. These buildings were completed in a few years; nor did our city ever enjoy a greater state of prosperity than in those times: filled with men of great wealth and reputation; possessing within her walls 30,000 men capable of bearing arms, and in the country 70,000, while the whole of Tuscany, either as subjects or friends, owed obedience to Florence. And although there might be some indignation and jealousy between the nobility and the people, they did not produce any evil effect, but all lived together in unity and peace. And if this peace had not been disturbed by internal enmities there would have been no cause of apprehension whatever, for the city had nothing to fear either from the empire or from those citizens whom political reasons kept from their homes, and was in condition to meet all the states of Italy with her own forces. The evil, however, which external powers could not effect, was brought about by those within.

CHAPTER IV

The Cerchi and the Donati — Origin of the Bianca and Nera factions in Pistoia — They come to Florence — Open enmity of the Donati and the Cerchi — Their first conflict — The Cerchi head the Bianca faction — The Donati take part with the Nera — The pope’s legate at Florence increases the confusion with an interdict — New affray between the Cerchi and the Donati — The Donati and others of the Nera faction banished by the advice of Dante Alighieri — Charles of Valois sent by the pope to Florence — The Florentines suspect him — Corso Donati and the rest of the Nera party return to Florence — Veri Cerchi flies — The pope’s legate again in Florence — The city again interdicted — New disturbances — The Bianchi banished — Dante banished — Corso Donati excites fresh troubles — The pope’s legate endeavors to restore the emigrants but does not succeed — Great fire in Florence.

The Cerchi and the Donati were, for riches, nobility, and the number and influence of their followers, perhaps the two most distinguished families in Florence. Being neighbors, both in the city and the country, there had arisen between them some slight displeasure, which, however, had not occasioned an open quarrel, and perhaps never would have produced any serious effect if the malignant humors had not been increased by new causes. Among the first families of Pistoia was the Cancellieri. It happened that Lore, son of Gulielmo, and Geri, son of Bertacca, both of this family, playing together, and coming to words, Geri was slightly wounded by Lore. This displeased Gulielmo; and, designing by a suitable apology to remove all cause of further animosity, he ordered his son to go to the house of the father of the youth whom he had wounded and ask pardon. Lore obeyed his father; but this act of virtue failed to soften the cruel mind of Bertacca, and having caused Lore to be seized, in order to add the greatest indignity to his brutal act, he ordered his servants to chop off the youth’s hand upon a block used for cutting meat upon, and then said to him, “Go to thy father, and tell him that sword wounds are cured with iron and not with words.”

The unfeeling barbarity of this act so greatly exasperated Gulielmo that he ordered his people to take arms for his revenge. Bertacca prepared for his defense, and not only that family, but the whole city of Pistoia, became divided. And as the Cancellieri were descended from a Cancelliere who had had two wives, of whom one was called Bianca (white), one party was named by those who were descended from her BIANCA; and the other, by way of greater distinction, was called NERA (black). Much and long-continued strife took place between the two, attended with the death of many men and the destruction of much property; and not being able to effect a union among themselves, but weary of the evil, and anxious either to bring it to an end, or, by engaging others in their quarrel, increase it, they came to Florence, where the Neri, on account of their familiarity with the Donati, were favored by Corso, the head of that family; and on this account the Bianchi, that they might have a powerful head to defend them against the Donati, had recourse to Veri de Cerchi, a man in no respect inferior to Corso.

This quarrel, and the parties in it, brought from Pistoia, increased the old animosity between the Cerchi and the Donati, and it was already so manifest, that the Priors and all well-disposed men were in hourly apprehension of its breaking out, and causing a division of the whole city. They therefore applied to the pontiff, praying that he would interpose his authority between these turbulent parties, and provide the remedy which they found themselves unable to furnish. The pope sent for Veri, and charged him to make peace with the Donati, at which Veri exhibited great astonishment, saying that he had no enmity against them, and that as pacification presupposes war, he did not know, there being no war between them, how peacemaking could be necessary. Veri having returned from Rome without anything being effected, the rage of the parties increased to such a degree, that any trivial accident seemed sufficient to make it burst forth, as indeed presently happened.

It was in the month of May, during which, and upon holidays, it is the custom of Florence to hold festivals and public rejoicings throughout the city. Some youths of the Donati family, with their friends, upon horseback, were standing near the church of the Holy Trinity to look at a party of ladies who were dancing; thither also came some of the Cerchi, like the Donati, accompanied with many of the nobility, and, not knowing that the Donati were before them, pushed their horses and jostled them; thereupon the Donati, thinking themselves insulted, drew their swords, nor were the Cerchi at all backward to do the same, and not till after the interchange of many wounds, they separated. This disturbance was the beginning of great evils; for the whole city became divided, the people as well as the nobility, and the parties took the names of the Bianchi and the Neri. The Cerchi were at the head of the Bianchi faction, to which adhered the Adimari, the Abati, a part of the Tosinghi, of the Bardi, of the Rossi, of the Frescobaldi, of the Nerli, and of the Manelli; all the Mozzi, the Scali, Gherardini, Cavalcanti, Malespini, Bostichi, Giandonati, Vecchietti, and Arrigucci. To these were joined many families of the people, and all the Ghibellines then in Florence, so that their great numbers gave them almost the entire government of the city.

The Donati, at the head of whom was Corso, joined the Nera party, to which also adhered those members of the above-named families who did not take part with the Bianchi; and besides these, the whole of the Pazzi, the Bisdomini, Manieri, Bagnesi, Tornaquinci, Spini, Buondelmonti, Gianfigliazzi, and the Brunelleschi. Nor did the evil confine itself to the city alone, for the whole country was divided upon it, so that the Captains of the Six Parts, and whoever were attached to the Guelphic party or the well-being of the republic, were very much afraid that this new division would occasion the destruction of the city, and give new life to the Ghibelline faction. They, therefore, sent again to Pope Boniface, desiring that, unless he wished that city which had always been the shield of the church should either be ruined or become Ghibelline, he would consider some means for her relief. The pontiff thereupon sent to Florence, as his legate, Cardinal Matteo d’Acquasparta, a Portuguese, who, finding the Bianchi, as the most powerful, the least in fear, not quite submissive to him, he interdicted the city, and left it in anger, so that greater confusion now prevailed than had done previously to his coming.

The minds of men being in great excitement, it happened that at a funeral which many of the Donati and the Cerchi attended, they first came to words and then to arms, from which, however, nothing but merely tumult resulted at the moment. However, having each retired to their houses, the Cerchi determined to attack the Donati, but, by the valor of Corso, they were repulsed and great numbers of them wounded. The city was in arms. The laws and the Signory were set at nought by the rage of the nobility, and the best and wisest citizens were full of apprehension. The Donati and their followers, being the least powerful, were in the greatest fear, and to provide for their safety they called together Corso, the Captains of the Parts, and the other leaders of the Neri, and resolved to apply to the pope to appoint some personage of royal blood, that he might reform Florence; thinking by this means to overcome the Bianchi. Their meeting and determination became known to the Priors, and the adverse party represented it as a conspiracy against the liberties of the republic. Both parties being in arms, the Signory, one of whom at that time was the poet Dante, took courage, and from his advice and prudence, caused the people to rise for the preservation of order, and being joined by many from the country, they compelled the leaders of both parties to lay aside their arms, and banished Corso, with many of the Neri. And as an evidence of the impartiality of their motives, they also banished many of the Bianchi, who, however, soon afterward, under pretense of some justifiable cause, returned.

Corso and his friends, thinking the pope favorable to their party, went to Rome and laid their grievances before him, having previously forwarded a statement of them in writing. Charles of Valois, brother of the king of France, was then at the papal court, having been called into Italy by the king of Naples, to go over into Sicily. The pope, therefore, at the earnest prayers of the banished Florentines, consented to send Charles to Florence, till the season suitable for his going to Sicily should arrive. He therefore came, and although the Bianchi, who then governed, were very apprehensive, still, as the head of the Guelphs, and appointed by the pope, they did not dare to oppose him, and in order to secure his friendship, they gave him authority to dispose of the city as he thought proper.

Thus authorized, Charles armed all his friends and followers, which step gave the people so strong a suspicion that he designed to rob them of their liberty, that each took arms, and kept at his own house, in order to be ready, if Charles should make any such attempt. The Cerchi and the leaders of the Bianchi faction had acquired universal hatred by having, while at the head of the republic, conducted themselves with unbecoming pride; and this induced Corso and the banished of the Neri party to return to Florence, knowing well that Charles and the Captains of the Parts were favorable to them. And while the citizens, for fear of Charles, kept themselves in arms, Corso, with all the banished, and followed by many others, entered Florence without the least impediment. And although Veri de Cerchi was advised to oppose him, he refused to do so, saying that he wished the people of Florence, against whom he came, should punish him. However, the contrary happened, for he was welcomed, not punished by them; and it behooved Veri to save himself by flight.

Corso, having forced the Pinti Gate, assembled his party at San Pietro Maggiore, near his own house, where, having drawn together a great number of friends and people desirous of change, he set at liberty all who had been imprisoned for offenses, whether against the state or against individuals. He compelled the existing Signory to withdraw privately to their own houses, elected a new one from the people of the Neri party, and for five days plundered the leaders of the Bianchi. The Cerchi, and the other heads of their faction, finding Charles opposed to them, withdrew from the city, and retired to their strongholds. And although at first they would not listen to the advice of the pope, they were now compelled to turn to him for assistance, declaring that instead of uniting the city, Charles had caused greater disunion than before. The pope again sent Matteo d’Acquasparta, his legate, who made peace between the Cerchi and the Donati, and strengthened it with marriages and new betrothals. But wishing that the Bianchi should participate in the employments of the government, to which the Neri who were then at the head of it would not consent, he withdrew, with no more satisfaction nor less enraged than on the former occasion, and left the city interdicted for disobedience.

Both parties remained in Florence, and equally discontented; the Neri from seeing their enemies at hand, and apprehending the loss of their power, and the Bianchi from finding themselves without either honor or authority; and to these natural causes of animosity new injuries were added. Niccolo de’ Cerchi, with many of his friends, went to his estates, and being arrived at the bridge of Affrico, was attacked by Simone, son of Corso Donati. The contest was obstinate, and one each side had a sorrowful conclusion; for Niccolo was slain, and Simone was so severely wounded that he died on the following night.

This event again disturbed the entire city; and although the Neri were most to blame, they were defended by those who were at the head of affairs; and before sentence was delivered, a conspiracy of the Bianchi with Piero Ferrante, one of the barons who had accompanied Charles, was discovered, by whose assistance they sought to be replaced in the government. The matter became known from letters addressed to him by the Cerchi, although some were of opinion that they were not genuine, but written and pretended to be found, by the Donati, to abate the infamy which their party had acquired by the death of Niccolo. The whole of the Cerchi were, however, banished, — with their followers of the Bianchi party, of whom was Dante the poet, — their property confiscated, and their houses pulled down. They sought refuge, with a great number of Ghibellines who had joined them, in many places, seeking fresh fortunes in new undertakings. Charles, having effected the purpose of his coming, left the city, and returned to the pope to pursue his enterprise against Sicily, in which he was neither wiser nor more fortunate than he had been at Florence; so that with disgrace and the loss of many of his followers, he withdrew to France.

After the departure of Charles, Florence remained quiet. Corso alone was restless, thinking he did not possess that sort of authority in the city which was due to his rank; for the government being in the hands of the people, he saw the offices of the republic administered by many inferior to himself. Moved by passions of this kind, he endeavored, under the pretense of an honorable design, to justify his own dishonorable purposes, and accused many citizens who had the management of the public money, of applying it to their private uses, and recommended that they should be brought to justice and punished. This opinion was adopted by many who had the same views as himself; and many in ignorance joined them, thinking Corso actuated only by pure patriotism. On the other hand, the accused citizens, enjoying the popular favor, defended themselves, and this difference arose to such a height, that, after civil means, they had recourse to arms. Of the one party were Corso and Lottieri, bishop of Florence, with many of the nobility and some of the people; on the other side were the Signory, with the greater part of the people; so that skirmishes took place in many parts of the city. The Signory, seeing their danger great, sent for aid to the Lucchese, and presently all the people of Lucca were in Florence. With their assistance the disturbances were settled for the moment, and the people retained the government and their liberty, without attempting by any other means to punish the movers of the disorder.

The pope had heard of the tumults at Florence, and sent his legate, Niccolo da Prato, to settle them, who, being in high reputation both for his quality, learning, and mode of life, presently acquired so much of the people’s confidence, that authority was given him to establish such a government as he should think proper. As he was of Ghibelline origin, he determined to recall the banished; but designing first to gain the affections of the lower orders, he renewed the ancient companies of the people, which increased the popular power and reduced that of the nobility. The legate, thinking the multitude on his side, now endeavored to recall the banished, and, after attempting in many ways, none of which succeeded, he fell so completely under the suspicion of the government, that he was compelled to quit the city, and returned to the pope in great wrath, leaving Florence full of confusion and suffering under an interdict. Neither was the city disturbed with one division alone, but by many; first the enmity between the people and the nobility, then that of the Ghibellines and the Guelphs, and lastly, of the Bianchi and the Neri. All the citizens were, therefore, in arms, for many were dissatisfied with the departure of the legate, and wished for the return of the banished. The first who set this disturbance on foot were the Medici and the Guinigi, who, with the legate, had discovered themselves in favor of the rebels; and thus skirmishes took place in many parts of the city.

In addition to these evils a fire occurred, which first broke out at the garden of St. Michael, in the houses of the Abati; it thence extended to those of the Capoinsacchi, and consumed them, with those of the Macci, Amieri, Toschi, Cipriani, Lamberti, Cavalcanti, and the whole of the New Market; from thence it spread to the gate of St. Maria, and burned it to the ground; turning from the old bridge, it destroyed the houses of the Gherardini, Pulci, Amidei, and Lucardesi, and with these so many others that the number amounted to seventeen hundred. It was the opinion of many that this fire occurred by accident during the heat of the disturbances. Others affirm that it was begun willfully by Neri Abati, prior of St. Pietro Scarragio, a dissolute character, fond of mischief, who, seeing the people occupied with the combat, took the opportunity of committing a wicked act, for which the citizens, being thus employed, could offer no remedy. And to insure his success, he set fire to the house of his own brotherhood, where he had the best opportunity of doing it. This was in the year 1304, Florence being afflicted both with fire and the sword. Corso Donati alone remained unarmed in so many tumults; for he thought he would more easily become the arbitrator between the contending parties when, weary of strife, they should be inclined to accommodation. They laid down their arms, however, rather from satiety of evil than from any desire of union; and the only consequence was, that the banished were not recalled, and the party which favored them remained inferior.

CHAPTER V

The emigrants attempt to re-enter Florence, but are not allowed to do so — The companies of the people restored — Restless conduct of Corso Donati — The ruin of Corso Donati — Corso Donati accused and condemned — Riot at the house of Corso — Death of Corso — His character — Fruitless attempt of the Emperor Henry against the Florentines — The emigrants are restored to the city — The citizens place themselves under the king of Naples for five years — War with Uguccione della Faggiuola — The Florentines routed — Florence withdraws herself from subjection to King Robert, and expels the Count Novello — Lando d’Agobbio — His tyranny — His departure.

The legate being returned to Rome, and hearing of the new disturbance which had occurred, persuaded the pope that if he wished to unite the Florentines, it would be necessary to have twelve of the first citizens appear before him, and having thus removed the principal causes of disunion, he might easily put a stop to it. The pontiff took this advice, and the citizens, among whom was Corso Donati, obeyed the summons. These having left the city, the legate told the exiles that now, when the city was deprived of her leaders, was the time for them to return. They, therefore, having assembled, came to Florence, and entering by a part of the wall not yet completed, proceeded to the piazza of St. Giovanni. It is worthy of remark, that those who, a short time previously, when they came unarmed and begged to be restored to their country, had fought for their return, now, when they saw them in arms and resolved to enter by force, took arms to oppose them (so much more was the common good esteemed than private friendship), and being joined by the rest of the citizens, compelled them to return to the places whence they had come. They failed in their undertaking by having left part of their force at Lastra, and by not having waited the arrival of Tolosetto Uberti, who had to come from Pistoia with three hundred horse; for they thought celerity rather than numbers would give them the victory; and it often happens, in similar enterprises, that delay robs us of the occasion, and too great anxiety to be forward prevents us of the power, or makes us act before we are properly prepared.

The banished having retired, Florence again returned to her old divisions; and in order to deprive the Cavalcanti of their authority, the people took from them the Stinche, a castle situated in the Val di Greve, and anciently belonging to the family. And as those who were taken in it were the first who were put into the new prisons, the latter were, and still continue, named after it, — the Stinche. The leaders of the republic also re-established the companies of the people, and gave them the ensigns that were first used by the companies of the Arts; the heads of which were called Gonfaloniers of the companies and colleagues of the Signory; and ordered, that when any disturbance arose they should assist the Signory with arms, and in peace with counsel. To the two ancient rectors they added an executor, or sheriff, who, with the Gonfaloniers, was to aid in repressing the insolence of the nobility.

In the meantime the pope died. Corso, with the other citizens, returned from Rome; and all would have been well if his restless mind had not occasioned new troubles. It was his common practice to be of a contrary opinion to the most powerful men in the city; and whatever he saw the people inclined to do, he exercised his utmost influence to effect, in order to attach them to himself; so that he was a leader in all differences, at the head of every new scheme, and whoever wished to obtain anything extraordinary had recourse to him. This conduct caused him to be hated by many of the highest distinction; and their hatred increased to such a degree that the Neri faction to which he belonged, became completely divided; for Corso, to attain his ends, had availed himself of private force and authority, and of the enemies of the state. But so great was the influence attached to his person, that everyone feared him. Nevertheless, in order to strip him of the popular favor (which by this means may easily be done), a report was set on foot that he intended to make himself prince of the city; and to the design his conduct gave great appearance of probability, for his way of living quite exceeded all civil bounds; and the opinion gained further strength, upon his taking to wife a daughter of Uguccione della Faggiuola, head of the Ghibelline and Bianchi faction, and one of the most powerful men in Tuscany.

When this marriage became known it gave courage to his adversaries, and they took arms against him; for the same reason the people ceased to defend him, and the greater part of them joined the ranks of his enemies, the leaders of whom were Rosso della Tosa, Pazino dei Pazzi, Geri Spini, and Berto Brunelleschi. These, with their followers, and the greater part of the people, assembled before the palace of the Signory, by whose command a charge was made before Piero Branca, captain of the people, against Corso, of intending, with the aid of Uguccione, to usurp the government. He was then summoned, and for disobedience, declared a rebel; nor did two hours pass over between the accusation and the sentence. The judgment being given, the Signory, with the companies of the people under their ensigns, went in search of him, who, although seeing himself abandoned by many of his followers, aware of the sentence against him, the power of the Signory, and the multitude of his enemies, remained undaunted, and fortified his houses, in the hope of defending them till Uguccione, for whom he had sent, should come to his Relief. His residences, and the streets approaching them, were barricaded and taken possession of by his partisans, who defended them so bravely that the enemy, although in great numbers, could not force them, and the battle became one of the hottest, with wounds and death on all sides. But the people, finding they could not drive them from their ground, took possession of the adjoining houses, and by unobserved passages obtained entry. Corso, thus finding himself surrounded by his foes, no longer retaining any hope of assistance from Uguccione, and without a chance of victory, thought only of effecting his personal safety, and with Gherardo Bordoni, and some of his bravest and most trusted friends, fought a passage through the thickest of their enemies, and effected their escape from the city by the Gate of the Cross. They were, however, pursued by vast numbers, and Gherardo was slain upon the bridge of Affrico by Boccaccio Cavicciulli. Corso was overtaken and made prisoner by a party of Catalan horse, in the service of the Signory, at Rovezzano. But when approaching Florence, that he might avoid being seen and torn to pieces by his victorious enemies, he allowed himself to fall from horseback, and being down, one of those who conducted him cut his throat. The body was found by the monks of San Salvi, and buried without any ceremony due to his rank. Such was the end of Corso, to whom his country and the Neri faction were indebted for much both of good and evil; and if he had possessed a cooler spirit he would have left behind him a more happy memory. Nevertheless, he deserves to be enumerated among the most distinguished men our city has produced. True it is, that his restless conduct made both his country and his party forgetful of their obligation to him. The same cause also produced his miserable end, and brought many troubles upon both his friends and his country. Uguccione, coming to the assistance of his relative, learned at Remoli that Corso had been overcome by the people, and finding that he could not render him any assistance, in order to avoid bringing evil upon himself without occasion, he returned home.

After the death of Corso, which occurred in the year 1308, the disturbances were appeased, and the people lived quietly till it was reported that the Emperor Henry was coming into Italy, and with him all the Florentine emigrants, to whom he had promised restoration to their country. The leaders of the government thought, that in order to lessen the number of their enemies, it would be well to recall, of their own will, all who had been expelled, excepting such as the law had expressly forbidden to return. Of the number not admitted, were the greater part of the Ghibellines, and some of those of the Bianchi faction, among whom were Dante Alighieri, the sons of Veri de’ Cerchi and of Giano della Bella. Besides this they sent for aid to Robert, king of Naples, and not being able to obtain it of him as friends, they gave their city to him for five years, that he might defend them as his own people. The emperor entered Italy by the way of Pisa, and proceeded by the marshes to Rome, where he was crowned in the year 1312. Then, having determined to subdue the Florentines, he approached their city by the way of Perugia and Arezzo, and halted with his army at the monastery of San Salvi, about a mile from Florence, where he remained fifty days without effecting anything. Despairing of success against Florence, he returned to Pisa, where he entered into an agreement with Frederick, king of Sicily, to undertake the conquest of Naples, and proceeded with his people accordingly; but while filled with the hope of victory, and carrying dismay into the heart of King Robert, having reached Buonconvento, he died.

Shortly after this, Uguccione della Faggiuola, having by means of the Ghibelline party become lord of Pisa and of Lucca, caused, with the assistance of these cities, very serious annoyance to the neighbouring places. In order to effect their relief the Florentines requested King Robert would allow his brother Piero to take the command of their armies. On the other hand, Uguccione continued to increase his power; and either by force or fraud obtained possession of many castles in the Val d’Arno and the Val di Nievole; and having besieged Monte Cataini, the Florentines found it would be necessary to send to its relief, that they might not see him burn and destroy their whole territory. Having drawn together a large army, they entered the Val di Nievole where they came up with Uguccione, and were routed after a severe battle in which Piero the king’s brother and 2,000 men were slain; but the body of the Prince was never found. Neither was the victory a joyful one to Uguccione; for one of his sons, and many of the leaders of his army, fell in the strife.

The Florentines after this defeat fortified their territory, and King Robert sent them, for commander of their forces, the Count d’Andria, usually called Count Novello, by whose deportment, or because it is natural to the Florentines to find every state tedious, the city, notwithstanding the war with Uguccione, became divided into friends and enemies of the king. Simon della Tosa, the Magalotti, and certain others of the people who had attained greater influence in the government than the rest, were leaders of the party against the king. By these means messengers were sent to France, and afterward into Germany, to solicit leaders and forces that they might drive out the count, whom the king had appointed governor; but they failed of obtaining any. Nevertheless they did not abandon their undertaking, but still desirous of one whom they might worship, after an unavailing search in France and Germany, they discovered him at Agobbio, and having expelled the Count Novello, caused Lando d’Agobbio to be brought into the city as Bargello (sheriff), and gave him the most unlimited power of the citizens. This man was cruel and rapacious; and going through the country accompanied with an armed force, he put many to death at the mere instigation of those who had endowed him with authority. His insolence rose to such a height, that he stamped base metal with the impression used upon the money of the state, and no one had sufficient courage to oppose him, so powerful had he become by the discords of Florence. Great, certainly, but unhappy city! which neither the memory of past divisions, the fear of her enemies, nor a king’s authority, could unite for her own advantage; so that she found herself in a state of the utmost wretchedness, harassed without by Uguccione, and plundered within by Lando d’Agobbio.

The friends of the king and those who opposed Lando and his followers, were either of noble families or the highest of the people, and all Guelphs; but their adversaries being in power they could not discover their minds without incurring the greatest danger. Being, however, determined to deliver themselves from such disgraceful tyranny, they secretly wrote to King Robert, requesting him to appoint for his vicar in Florence Count Guido da Battifolle. The king complied; and the opposite party, although the Signory were opposed to the king, on account of the good quality of the count, did not dare to resist him. Still his authority was not great, because the Signory and Gonfaloniers of the companies were in favor of Lando and his party.

During these troubles, the daughter of King Albert of Bohemia passed through Florence, in search of her husband, Charles, the son of King Robert, and was received with the greatest respect by the friends of the king, who complained to her of the unhappy state of the city, and of the tyranny of Lando and his partisans; so that through her influence and the exertions of the king’s friends, the citizens were again united, and before her departure, Lando was stripped of all authority and send back to Agobbio, laden with blood and plunder. In reforming the government, the sovereignty of the city was continued to the king for another three years, and as there were then in office seven Signors of the party of Lando, six more were appointed of the king’s friends, and some magistracies were composed of thirteen Signors; but not long afterward the number was reduced to seven according to ancient custom.

CHAPTER VI

War with Castruccio — Castruccio marches against Prato and retires without making any attempt — The emigrants not being allowed to return, endeavor to enter the city by force, and are repulsed — Change in the mode of electing the great officers of state — The Squittini established — The Florentines under Raymond of Cardona are routed by Castruccio at Altopascio — Treacherous designs of Raymond — The Florentines give the sovereignty of the city to Charles duke of Cambria, who appoints the duke of Athens for his vicar — The duke of Calabria comes to Florence — The Emperor Louis of Bavaria visits Italy — The excitement he produces — Death of Castruccio and of Charles duke of Calabria — Reform of government.

About the same time, Uguccione lost the sovereignty of Lucca and of Pisa, and Castruccio Castracani, a citizen of Lucca, became lord of them, who, being a young man, bold and fierce, and fortunate in his enterprises, in a short time became the head of the Ghibellines in Tuscany. On this account the discords among the Florentines were laid aside for some years, at first to abate the increasing power of Castruccio, and afterward to unite their means for mutual defense against him. And in order to give increased strength and efficacy to their counsels, the Signory appointed twelve citizens whom they called Buonomini, or good men, without whose advice and consent nothing of any importance could be carried into effect. The conclusion of the sovereignty of King Robert being come, the citizens took the government into their own hands, reappointed the usual rectors and magistracies, and were kept united by the dread of Castruccio, who, after many efforts against the lords of Lunigiano, attacked Prato, to the relief of which the Florentines having resolved to go, shut up their shops and houses, and proceeded thither in a body, amounting to twenty thousand foot and one thousand five hundred horse. And in order to reduce the number of Castruccio’s friends and augment their own, the Signory declared that every rebel of the Guelphic party who should come to the relief of Prato would be restored to his country; they thus increased their army with an addition of four thousand men. This great force being quickly brought to Prato, alarmed Castruccio so much, that without trying the fortune of battle, he retired toward Lucca. Upon this, disturbances arose in the Florentine camp between the nobility and the people, the latter of whom wished to pursue the foe and destroy him; the former were for returning home, saying they had done enough for Prato in hazarding the safety of Florence on its account, which they did not regret under the circumstances, but now, that necessity no longer existing, the propriety of further risk ceased also, as there was little to be gained and much to lose. Not being able to agree, the question was referred to the Signory, among whom the difference of opinion was equally great; and as the matter spread throughout the city, the people drew together, and used such threatening language against the nobility that they, being apprehensive for their safety, yielded; but the resolution being adopted too late, and by many unwillingly, gave the enemy time to withdraw in safety to Lucca.

This unfortunate circumstance made the people so indignant against the great that the Signory refused to perform the promise made to the exiles, and the latter, anticipating the fact, determined to be beforehand, and were at the gates of Florence to gain admittance into the city before the rest of the forces; but their design did not take effect, for their purpose being foreseen, they were repulsed by those who had remained at home. They then endeavored to acquire by entreaty what they had failed to obtain by force; and sent eight men as ambassadors to the Signory, to remind them of the promise given, and of the dangers they had undergone, in hope of the reward which had been held out to them. And although the nobility, who felt the obligation on account of their having particularly undertaken to fulfill the promise for which the Signory had bound themselves, used their utmost exertion in favor of the exiles, so great was the anger of the multitude on account of their only partial success against Castruccio, that they could not obtain their admission. This occasioned cost and dishonor to the city; for many of the nobility, taking offense at this proceeding, endeavored to obtain by arms that which had been refused to their prayers, and agreed with the exiles that they should come armed to the city, and that those within would arm themselves in their defense. But the affair was discovered before the appointed day arrived, so that those without found the city in arms, and prepared to resist them. So completely subdued were those within, that none dared to take arms; and thus the undertaking was abandoned, without any advantage having been obtained by the party. After the departure of the exiles it was determined to punish those who had been instrumental in bringing them to the city; but, although everyone knew who were the delinquents, none ventured to name and still less to accuse them. It was, therefore, resolved that in order to come at the truth, everyone should write the names of those he believed to be guilty, and present the writing secretly to the Capitano. By this means, Amerigo Donati, Teghiajo, Frescobaldi, and Lotteringo Gherardini were accused; but, the judges being more favorably disposed to them than, perhaps, their misdeeds deserved, each escaped by paying a fine.

The tumults which arose in Florence from the coming of the rebels to the gates, showed that one leader was insufficient for the companies of the people; they, therefore, determined that in future each should have three or four; and to every Gonfalonier two or three Pennonieri (pennon bearers) were added, so that if the whole body were not drawn out, a part might operate under one of them. And as happens in republics, after any disturbance, some old laws are annulled and others renewed, so on this occasion, as it had been previously customary to appoint the Signory for a time only, the then existing Signors and the Colleagues, feeling themselves possessed of sufficient power, assumed the authority to fix upon the Signors that would have to sit during the next forty months, by putting their names into a bag or purse, and drawing them every two months. But, before the expiration of the forty months, many citizens were jealous that their names had not been deposited among the rest, and a new emborsation was made. From this beginning arose the custom of emborsing or enclosing the names of all who should take office in any of the magistracies for a long time to come, as well those whose offices employed them within the city as those abroad, though previously the councils of the retiring magistrates had elected those who were to succeed them. These emborsations were afterward called Squittini, or pollings, — and it was thought they would prevent much trouble to the city, and remove the cause of those tumults which every three, or at most five, years, took place upon the creation of magistrates, from the number of candidates for office. And not being able to adopt a better expedient, they made use of this, but did not observe the defects which lay concealed under such a trivial accommodation.

In 1325, Castruccio, having taken possession of Pistoia, became so powerful that the Florentines, fearing his greatness, resolved, before he should get himself firmly seated in his new conquest, to attack him and withdraw it from his authority. Of their citizens and friends they mustered an army amounting to 20,000 foot and 3,000 horse, and with this body encamped before Altopascio, with the intention of taking the place and thus preventing it from relieving Pistoia. Being successful in the first part of their design, they marched toward Lucca, and laid the country waste in their progress; but from the little prudence and less integrity of their leader, Ramondo di Cardona, they made but small progress; for he, having observed them upon former occasions very prodigal of their liberty, placing it sometimes in the hands of a king, at others in those of a legate, or persons of even inferior quality, thought, if he could bring them into some difficulty, it might easily happen that they would make him their prince. Nor did he fail frequently to mention these matters, and required to have that authority in the city which had been given him over the army, endeavoring to show that otherwise he could not enforce the obedience requisite to a leader. As the Florentines did not consent to this, he wasted time, and allowed Castruccio to obtain the assistance which the Visconti and other tyrants of Lombardy had promised him, and thus become very strong. Ramondo, having willfully let the opportunity of victory pass away, now found himself unable to escape; for Castruccio coming up with him at Altopascio, a great battle ensued in which many citizens were slain and taken prisoners, and among the former fell Ramondo, who received from fortune that reward of bad faith and mischievous counsels which he had richly deserved from the Florentines. The injury they suffered from Castruccio, after the battle, in plunder, prisoners, destruction, and burning of property, is quite indescribable; for, without any opposition, during many months, he led his predatory forces wherever he thought proper, and it seemed sufficient to the Florentines if, after such a terrible event, they could save their city.

Still they were not so absolutely cast down as to prevent them from raising great sums of money, hiring troops, and sending to their friends for assistance; but all they could do was insufficient to restrain such a powerful enemy; so that they were obliged to offer the sovereignty to Charles duke of Calabria, son of King Robert, if they could induce him to come to their defense; for these princes, being accustomed to rule Florence, preferred her obedience to her friendship. But Charles, being engaged in the wars of Sicily, and therefore unable to undertake the sovereignty of the city, sent in his stead Walter, by birth a Frenchman, and duke of Athens. He, as viceroy, took possession of the city, and appointed the magistracies according to his own pleasure; but his mode of proceeding was quite correct, and so completely contrary to his real nature, that everyone respected him.

The affairs of Sicily being composed, Charles came to Florence with a thousand horse. He made his entry into the city in July, 1326, and his coming prevented further pillage of the Florentine territory by Castruccio. However, the influence which they acquired without the city was lost within her walls, and the evils which they did not suffer from their enemies were brought upon them by their friends; for the Signory could not do anything without the consent of the duke of Calabria, who, in the course of one year, drew from the people 400,000 florins, although by the agreement entered into with him, the sum was not to exceed 200,000; so great were the burdens with which either himself or his father constantly oppressed them.

To these troubles were added new jealousies and new enemies; for the Ghibellines of Lombardy became so alarmed upon the arrival of Charles in Tuscany, that Galeazzo Visconti and the other Lombard tyrants, by money and promises, induced Louis of Bavaria, who had lately been elected emperor contrary to the wish of the pope, to come into Italy. After passing through Lombardy he entered Tuscany, and with the assistance of Castruccio, made himself master of Pisa, from whence, having been pacified with sums of money, he directed his course towards Rome. This caused the duke of Calabria to be apprehensive for the safety of Naples; he therefore left Florence, and appointed as his viceroy Filippo da Saggineto.

After the departure of the emperor, Castruccio made himself master of Pisa, but the Florentines, by a treaty with Pistoia, withdrew her from obedience to him. Castruccio then besieged Pistoia, and persevered with so much vigor and resolution, that although the Florentines often attempted to relieve her, by attacking first his army and then his country, they were unable either by force or policy to remove him; so anxious was he to punish the Pistolesi and subdue the Florentines. At length the people of Pistoia were compelled to receive him for their sovereign; but this event, although greatly to his glory, proved but little to his advantage, for upon his return to Lucca he died. And as one event either of good or evil seldom comes alone, at Naples also died Charles duke of Calabria and lord of Florence, so that in a short time, beyond the expectation of their most sanguine hopes, the Florentines found themselves delivered from the domination of the one and the fear of the other. Being again free, they set about the reformation of the city, annulled all the old councils, and created two new ones, the one composed of 300 citizens from the class of the people, the other of 250 from the nobility and the people.

The first was called the Council of the People, the other the Council of the Commune.

CHAPTER VII

The Emperor at Rome — The Florentines refuse to purchase Lucca, and repent of it — Enterprises of the Florentines — Conspiracy of the Bardi and the Frescobaldi — The conspiracy discovered and checked — Maffeo da Marradi appeases the tumult — Lucca is purchased by the Florentines and taken by the Pisans — The duke of Athens at Florence — The nobility determine to make him prince of the city.

The emperor, being arrived at Rome, created an anti-pope, did many things in opposition to the church, and attempted many others, but without effect, so that at last he retired with disgrace, and went to Pisa, where, either because they were not paid, or from disaffection, about 800 German horse mutinied, and fortified themselves at Montechiaro upon the Ceruglio; and when the emperor had left Pisa to go into Lombardy, they took possession of Lucca and drove out Francesco Castracani, whom he had left there. Designing to turn their conquest to account, they offered it to the Florentines for 80,000 florins, which, by the advice of Simone della Tosa, was refused. This resolution, if they had remained in it, would have been of the greatest utility to the Florentines; but as they shortly afterward changed their minds, it became most pernicious; for although at the time they might have obtained peaceful possession of her for a small sum and would not, they afterward wished to have her and could not, even for a much larger amount; which caused many and most hurtful changes to take place in Florence. Lucca, being refused by the Florentines, was purchased by Gherardino Spinoli, a Genoese, for 30,000 florins. And as men are often less anxious to take what is in their power than desirous of that which they cannot attain, as soon as the purchase of Gherardino became known, and for how small a sum it had been bought, the people of Florence were seized with an extreme desire to have it, blaming themselves and those by whose advice they had been induced to reject the offer made to them. And in order to obtain by force what they had refused to purchase, they sent troops to plunder and overrun the country of the Lucchese.

About this time the emperor left Italy. The anti-pope, by means of the Pisans, became a prisoner in France; and the Florentines from the death of Castruccio, which occurred in 1328, remained in domestic peace till 1340, and gave their undivided attention to external affairs, while many wars were carried on in Lombardy, occasioned by the coming of John king of Bohemia, and in Tuscany, on account of Lucca. During this period Florence was ornamented with many new buildings, and by the advice of Giotto, the most distinguished painter of his time, they built the tower of Santa Reparata. Besides this, the waters of the Arno having, in 1333, risen twelve feet above their ordinary level, destroyed some of the bridges and many buildings, all which were restored with great care and expense.

In the year 1340, new sources of disagreement arose. The great had two ways of increasing or preserving their power; the one, so to restrain the emborsation of magistrates, that the lot always fell upon themselves or their friends; the other, that having the election of the rectors, they were always favorable to their party. This second mode they considered of so great importance, that the ordinary rectors not being sufficient for them, they on some occasions elected a third, and at this time they had made an extraordinary appointment, under the title of captain of the guard, of Jacopo Gabrielli of Agobbio, and endowed him with unlimited authority over the citizens. This man, under the sanction of those who governed, committed constant outrages; and among those whom he injured were Piero de’ Bardi and Bardo Frescobaldi. These being of the nobility, and naturally proud, could not endure that a stranger, supported by a few powerful men, should without cause injure them with impunity, and consequently entered into a conspiracy against him and those by whom he was supported. They were joined by many noble families, and some of the people, who were offended with the tyranny of those in power. Their plan was, that each should bring into his house a number of armed men, and on the morning after the day of All Saints, when almost all would be in the temples praying for their dead, they should take arms, kill the Capitano and those who were at the head of affairs, and then, with a new Signory and new ordinances, reform the government.

But, as the more a dangerous business is considered, the less willingly it is undertaken, it commonly happens, when there is any time allowed between the determining upon a perilous enterprise and its execution, that the conspiracy by one means or another becomes known. Andrea de’ Bardi was one of the conspirators, and upon reconsideration of the matter, the fear of the punishment operated more powerfully upon him than the desire of revenge, and he disclosed the affair to Jacopo Alberti, his brother-in-law. Jacopo acquainted the Priors, and they informed the government. And as the danger was near, All Saints’ day being just at hand, many citizens met together in the palace; and thinking their peril increased by delay, they insisted that the Signory should order the alarm to be rung, and called the people together in arms. Taldo Valori was at this time Gonfalonier, and Francesco Salviati one of the Signory, who, being relatives of the Bardi, were unwilling to summon the people with the bell, alleging as a reason that it is by no means well to assemble them in arms upon every slight occasion, for power put into the hands of an unrestrained multitude was never beneficial; that it is an easy matter to excite them to violence, but a difficult thing to restrain them; and that, therefore, it would be taking a more prudent course if they were to inquire into the truth of the affair, and punish the delinquents by the civil authority, than to attempt, upon a simple information, to correct it by such a tumultuous means, and thus hazard the safety of the city. None would listen to these remarks; the Signory were assailed with insolent behavior and indecent expressions, and compelled to sound the alarm, upon which the people presently assembled in arms. On the other hand, the Bardi and the Frescobaldi, finding themselves discovered, that they might conquer with glory or die without shame, armed themselves, in the hope that they would be able to defend that part of the city beyond the river, where their houses were situated; and they fortified the bridge in expectation of assistance, which they expected from the nobles and their friends in the country. Their design was frustrated by the people who, in common with themselves, occupied this part of the city; for these took arms in favor of the Signory, so that, seeing themselves thus circumstanced, they abandoned the bridges, and betook themselves to the street in which the Bardi resided, as being a stronger situation than any other; and this they defended with great bravery.

Jacopo d’Agobbio, knowing the whole conspiracy was directed against himself, in fear of death, terrified and vanquished, kept himself surrounded with forces near the palace of the Signory; but the other rectors, who were much less blamable, discovered greater courage, and especially the podesta or provost, whose name was Maffeo da Marradi. He presented himself among the combatants without any fear, and passing the bridge of the Rubaconte amid the swords of the Bardi, made a sign that he wished to speak to them. Upon this, their reverence for the man, his noble demeanor, and the excellent qualities he was known to possess, caused an immediate cessation of the combat, and induced them to listen to him patiently. He very gravely, but without the use of any bitter or aggravating expressions, blamed their conspiracy, showed the danger they would incur if they still contended against the popular feeling, gave them reason to hope their complaints would be heard and mercifully considered, and promised that he himself would use his endeavors in their behalf. He then returned to the Signory, and implored them to spare the blood of the citizens, showing the impropriety of judging them unheard, and at length induced them to consent that the Bardi and the Frescobaldi, with their friends, should leave the city, and without impediment be allowed to retire to their castles. Upon their departure the people being again disarmed, the Signory proceeded against those only of the Bardi and Frescobaldi families who had taken arms. To lessen their power, they bought of the Bardi the castle of Mangona and that of Vernia; and enacted a law which provided that no citizen should be allowed to possess a castle or fortified place within twenty miles of Florence.

After a few months, Stiatta Frescobaldi was beheaded, and many of his family banished. Those who governed, not satisfied with having subdued the Bardi and the Frescobaldi, as is most commonly the case, the more authority they possessed the worse use they made of it and the more insolent they became. As they had hitherto had one captain of the guard who afflicted the city, they now appointed another for the country, with unlimited authority, to the end that those whom they suspected might abide neither within nor without. And they excited them to such excesses against the whole of the nobility, that these were driven to desperation, and ready to sell both themselves and the city to obtain revenge. The occasion at length came, and they did not fail to use it.

The troubles of Tuscany and Lombardy had brought the city of Lucca under the rule of Mastino della Scala, lord of Verona, who, though bound by contract to assign her to the Florentines, had refused to do so; for, being lord of Parma, he thought he should be able to retain her, and did not trouble himself about his breach of faith. Upon this the Florentines joined the Venetians, and with their assistance brought Mastino to the brink of ruin. They did not, however, derive any benefit from this beyond the slight satisfaction of having conquered him; for the Venetians, like all who enter into league with less powerful states than themselves, having acquired Trevigi and Vicenza, made peace with Mastino without the least regard for the Florentines. Shortly after this, the Visconti, lords of Milan, having taken Parma from Mastino, he found himself unable to retain Lucca, and therefore determined to sell it. The competitors for the purchase were the Florentines and the Pisans; and in the course of the treaty the Pisans, finding that the Florentines, being the richer people, were about to obtain it, had recourse to arms, and, with the assistance of the Visconti, marched against Lucca. The Florentines did not, on that account, withdraw from the purchase, but having agreed upon the terms with Mastino, paid part of the money, gave security for the remainder, and sent Naddo Rucellai, Giovanni di Bernadino de’ Medici, and Rosso di Ricciardo de’ Ricci, to take possession, who entered Lucca by force, and Mastino’s people delivered the city to them. Nevertheless, the Pisans continued the siege, and the Florentines used their utmost endeavors to relieve her; but after a long war, loss of money, and accumulation of disgrace, they were compelled to retire, and the Pisans became lords of Lucca.

The loss of this city, as in like cases commonly happens, exasperated the people of Florence against the members of the government; at every street corner and public place they were openly censured, and the entire misfortune was laid to the charge of their greediness and mismanagement. At the beginning of the war, twenty citizens had been appointed to undertake the direction of it, who appointed Malatesta da Rimini to the command of the forces. He having exhibited little zeal and less prudence, they requested assistance from Robert king of Naples, and he sent them Walter duke of Athens, who, as Providence would have it, to bring about the approaching evils, arrived at Florence just at the moment when the undertaking against Lucca had entirely failed. Upon this the Twenty, seeing the anger of the people, thought to inspire them with fresh hopes by the appointment of a new leader, and thus remove, or at least abate, the causes of calumny against themselves. As there was much to be feared, and that the duke of Athens might have greater authority to defend them, they first chose him for their coadjutor, and then appointed him to the command of the army. The nobility, who were discontented from the causes above mentioned, having many of them been acquainted with Walter, when upon a former occasion he had governed Florence for the duke of Calabria, thought they had now an opportunity, though with the ruin of the city, of subduing their enemies; for there was no means of prevailing against those who had oppressed them but of submitting to the authority of a prince who, being acquainted with the worth of one party and the insolence of the other, would restrain the latter and reward the former. To this they added a hope of the benefits they might derive from him when he had acquired the principality by their means. They, therefore, took several occasions of being with him secretly, and entreated he would take the command wholly upon himself, offering him the utmost assistance in their power. To their influence and entreaty were also added those of some families of the people; these were the Peruzzi, Acciajuoli, Antellesi, and Buonaccorsi, who, being overwhelmed with debts, and without means of their own, wished for those of others to liquidate them, and, by the slavery of their country, to deliver themselves from their servitude to their creditors. These demonstrations excited the ambitious mind of the duke to greater desire of dominion, and in order to gain himself the reputation of strict equity and justice, and thus increase his favor with the plebeians, he prosecuted those who had conducted the war against Lucca, condemned many to pay fines, others to exile, and put to death Giovanni de’ Medici, Naddo Rucellai, and Guglielmo Altoviti.

CHAPTER VIII

The Duke of Athens requires to be made prince of Florence — The Signory address the duke upon the subject — The plebeians proclaim him prince of Florence for life — Tyrannical proceedings of the duke — The city disgusted with him — Conspiracies against the duke — The duke discovers the conspiracies, and becomes terrified — The city rises against him — He is besieged in the palace — Measures adopted by the citizens for reform of the government — The duke is compelled to withdraw from the city — Miserable deaths of Guglielmo da Scesi and his son — Departure of the duke of Athens — His character.

These executions greatly terrified the middle class of citizens, but gave satisfaction to the great and to the plebeians; — to the latter, because it is their nature to delight in evil; and to the former, by thus seeing themselves avenged of the many wrongs they had suffered from the people. When the duke passed along the streets he was hailed with loud cheers, the boldness of his proceedings was praised, and both parties joined in open entreaties that he would search out the faults of the citizens, and punish them.

The office of the Twenty began to fall into disuse, while the power of the duke became great, and the influence of fear excessive; so that everyone, in order to appear friendly to him, caused his arms to be painted over their houses, and the name alone was all he needed to be absolutely prince. Thinking himself upon such a footing that he might safely attempt anything, he gave the Signory to understand that he judged it necessary for the good of the city, that the sovereignty should be freely given to him, and that as the rest of the citizens were willing that it should be so, he desired they would also consent. The Signory, notwithstanding many had foreseen the ruin of their country, were much disturbed at this demand; and although they were aware of the dangerous position in which they stood, that they might not be wanting in their duty, resolutely refused to comply. The duke had, in order to assume a greater appearance of religion and humanity, chosen for his residence the convent of the Minor Canons of St. Croce, and in order to carry his evil designs into effect, proclaimed that all the people should, on the following morning, present themselves before him in the piazza of the convent. This command alarmed the Signory much more than his discourse to them had done, and they consulted with those citizens whom they thought most attached to their country and to liberty; but they could not devise any better plan, knowing the power of which the duke was possessed, than to endeavor by entreaty to induce him either to forego his design or to make his government less intolerable. A party of them was, therefore, appointed to wait upon him, one of whom addressed him in the following manner: —

“We appear before you, my lord, induced first by the demand which you have made, and then by the orders you have given for a meeting of the people; for it appears to us very clearly, that it is your intention to effect by extraordinary means the design from which we have hitherto withheld our consent. It is not, however, our intention to oppose you with force, but only to show what a heavy charge you take upon yourself, and the dangerous course you adopt; to the end that you may remember our advice and that of those who, not by consideration of what is beneficial for you, but for the gratification of their own unreasonable wishes, have advised you differently. You are endeavoring to reduce to slavery a city that has always existed in freedom; for the authority which we have at times conceded to the kings of Naples was companionship and not servitude. Have you considered the mighty things which the name of liberty implies to such a city as this, and how delightful it is to those who hear it? It has a power which nothing can subdue, time cannot wear away, nor can any degree of merit in a prince countervail the loss of it. Consider, my lord, how great the force must be that can keep a city like this in subjection, no foreign aid would enable you to do it; neither can you confide in those at home; for they who are at present your friends, and advise you to adopt the course you now pursue, as soon as with your assistance they have overcome their enemies, will at once turn their thoughts toward effecting your destruction, and then take the government upon themselves. The plebeians, in whom you confide, will change upon any accident, however trivial; so that in a very short time you may expect to see the whole city opposed to you, which will produce both their ruin and your own. Nor will you be able to find any remedy for this; for princes who have but few enemies may make their government very secure by the death or banishment of those who are opposed to them; but when the hatred is universal, no security whatever can be found, for you cannot tell from what direction the evil may commence; and he who has to apprehend every man his enemy cannot make himself assured of anyone. And if you should attempt to secure a friend or two, you would only increase the dangers of your situation; for the hatred of the rest would be increased by your success, and they would become more resolutely disposed to vengeance.

“That time can neither destroy nor abate the desire for freedom is most certain; for it has been often observed, that those have reassumed their liberty who in their own persons had never tasted of its charms, and love it only from remembrance of what they have heard their fathers relate; and, therefore, when recovered, have preserved it with indomitable resolution and at every hazard. And even when their fathers could not remember it, the public buildings, the halls of the magistracy, and the insignia of free institutions, remind them of it; and these things cannot fail to be known and greatly desired by every class of citizens.

“What is it you imagine you can do, that would be an equivalent for the sweets of liberty, or make men lose the desire of their present conditions? No; if you were to join the whole of Tuscany to the Florentine rule, if you were to return to the city daily in triumph over her enemies, what could it avail? The glory would not be ours, but yours. We should not acquire fellow-citizens, but partakers of our bondage, who would serve to sink us still deeper in ignominy. And if your conduct were in every respect upright, your demeanor amiable, and your judgments equitable, all these would be insufficient to make you beloved. If you imagine otherwise, you deceive yourself; for, to one accustomed to the enjoyment of liberty, the slightest chains feel heavy, and every tie upon his free soul oppresses him. Besides, it is impossible to find a violent people associated with a good prince, for of necessity they must soon become alike, or their difference produce the ruin of one of them. You may, therefore, be assured, that you will either have to hold this city by force, to effect which, guards, castles, and external aid have oft been found insufficient, or be content with the authority we have conferred; and this we would advise, reminding you that no dominion can be durable to which the governed do not consent; and we have no wish to lead you, blinded by ambition, to such a point that, unable either to stand or advance, you must, to the great injury of both, of necessity fall.”

This discourse did not in the slightest degree soften the obdurate mind of the duke, who replied that it was not his intention to rob the city of her liberty, but to restore it to her; for those cities alone are in slavery that are disunited, while the united are free. As Florence, by her factions and ambition, had deprived herself of liberty, he should restore, not take it from her; and as he had been induced to take this charge upon himself, not from his own ambition, but at the entreaty of a great number of citizens, they would do well to be satisfied with that which produced contentment among the rest. With regard to the danger he might incur, he thought nothing of it; for it was not the part of a good man to avoid doing good from his apprehension of evil, and it was the part of a coward to shun a glorious undertaking because some uncertainty attended the success of the attempt; and he knew he should so conduct himself, that they would soon see they had entertained great apprehensions and been in little danger.

The Signory then agreed, finding they could not do better, that on the following morning the people should be assembled in their accustomed place of meeting, and with their consent the Signory should confer upon the duke the sovereignty of the city for one year, on the same conditions as it had been intrusted to the duke of Calabria. It was upon the 8th of November, 1342, when the duke, accompanied by Giovanni della Tosa and all his confederates, with many other citizens, came to the piazza or court of the palace, and having, with the Signory mounted upon the ringhiera, or rostrum (as the Florentines call those steps which lead to the palace), the agreement which had been entered into between the Signory and himself was read. When they had come to the passage which gave the government to him for one year, the people shouted, “FOR LIFE.” Upon this, Francesco Rustichelli, one of the Signory, arose to speak, and endeavored to abate the tumult and procure a hearing; but the mob, with their hootings, prevented him from being heard by anyone; so that with the consent of the people the duke was elected, not for one year merely, but for life. He was then borne through the piazza by the crowd, shouting his name as they proceeded.

It is the custom that he who is appointed to the guard of the palace shall, in the absence of the Signory, remain locked within. This office was at that time held by Rinieri di Giotto, who, bribed by the friends of the duke, without waiting for any force, admitted him immediately. The Signory, terrified and dishonored, retired to their own houses; the palace was plundered by the followers of the duke, the Gonfalon of the people torn to pieces, and the arms of the duke placed over the palace. All this happened to the indescribable sorrow of good men, though to the satisfaction of those who, either from ignorance or malignity, were consenting parties.

The duke, having acquired the sovereignty of the city, in order to strip those of all authority who had been defenders of her liberty, forbade the Signory to assemble in the palace, and appointed a private dwelling for their use. He took their colors from the Gonfaloniers of the companies of the people; abolished the ordinances made for the restraint of the great; set at liberty those who were imprisoned; recalled the Bardi and the Frescobaldi from exile, and forbade everyone from carrying arms about his person. In order the better to defend himself against those within the city, he made friends of all he could around it, and therefore conferred great benefits upon the Aretini and other subjects of the Florentines. He made peace with the Pisans, although raised to power in order that he might carry on war against them; ceased paying interest to those merchants who, during the war against Lucca, had lent money to the republic; increased the old taxes, levied new ones, and took from the Signory all authority. His rectors were Baglione da Perugia and Guglielmo da Scesi, who, with Cerrettieri Bisdomini, were the persons with whom he consulted on public affairs. He imposed burdensome taxes upon the citizens; his decisions between contending parties were unjust; and that precision and humanity which he had at first assumed, became cruelty and pride; so that many of the greatest citizens and noblest people were, either by fines, death, or some new invention, grievously oppressed. And in completing the same bad system, both without the city and within, he appointed six rectors for the country, who beat and plundered the inhabitants. He suspected the great, although he had been benefited by them, and had restored many to their country; for he felt assured that the generous minds of the nobility would not allow them, from any motives, to submit contentedly to his authority. He also began to confer benefits and advantages upon the lowest orders, thinking that with their assistance, and the arms of foreigners, he would be able to preserve the tyranny. The month of May, during which feasts are held, being come, he caused many companies to be formed of the plebeians and very lowest of the people, and to these, dignified with splendid titles, he gave colors and money; and while one party went in bacchanalian procession through the city, others were stationed in different parts of it, to receive them as guests. As the report of the duke’s authority spread abroad, many of French origin came to him, for all of whom he found offices and emoluments, as if they had been the most trustworthy of men; so that in a short time Florence became not only subject to French dominion, but adopted their dress and manners; for men and women, without regard to propriety or sense of shame, imitated them. But that which disgusted the people most completely was the violence which, without any distinction of quality or rank, he and his followers committed upon the women.

The people were filled with indignation, seeing the majesty of the state overturned, its ordinances annihilated, its laws annulled, and every decent regulation set at naught; for men unaccustomed to royal pomp could not endure to see this man surrounded with his armed satellites on foot and on horseback; and having now a closer view of their disgrace, they were compelled to honor him whom they in the highest degree hated. To this hatred, was added the terror occasioned by the continual imposition of new taxes and frequent shedding of blood, with which he impoverished and consumed the city.

The duke was not unaware of these impressions existing strongly in the people’s minds, nor was he without fear of the consequences; but still pretended to think himself beloved; and when Matteo di Morozzo, either to acquire his favor or to free himself from danger, gave information that the family of the Medici and some others had entered into a conspiracy against him he not only did not inquire into the matter, but caused the informer to be put to a cruel death. This mode of proceeding restrained those who were disposed to acquaint him of his danger and gave additional courage to such as sought his ruin. Bertone Cini, having ventured to speak against the taxes with which the people were loaded, had his tongue cut out with such barbarous cruelty as to cause his death. This shocking act increased the people’s rage, and their hatred of the duke; for those who were accustomed to discourse and to act upon every occasion with the greatest boldness, could not endure to live with their hands tied and forbidden to speak.

This oppression increased to such a degree, that not merely the Florentines, who though unable to preserve their liberty cannot endure slavery, but the most servile people on earth would have been roused to attempt the recovery of freedom; and consequently many citizens of all ranks resolved either to deliver themselves from this odious tyranny or die in the attempt. Three distinct conspiracies were formed; one of the great; another of the people, and the third of the working classes; each of which, besides the general causes which operated upon the whole, were excited by some other particular grievance. The great found themselves deprived of all participation in the government; the people had lost the power they possessed, and the artificers saw themselves deficient in the usual remuneration of their labor.

Agnolo Acciajuoli was at this time archbishop of Florence, and by his discourses had formerly greatly favored the duke, and procured him many followers among the higher class of the people. But when he found him lord of the city, and became acquainted with his tyrannical mode of proceeding, it appeared to him that he had misled his countrymen; and to correct the evil he had done, he saw no other course, but to attempt the cure by the means which had caused it. He therefore became the leader of the first and most powerful conspiracy, and was joined by the Bardi, Rossi, Frescobaldi, Scali Altoviti, Magalotti, Strozzi, and Mancini. Of the second, the principals were Manno and Corso Donati, and with them the Pazzi, Cavicciulli, Cerchi, and Albizzi. Of the third the first was Antonio Adimari, and with him the Medici, Bordini, Rucellai, and Aldobrandini. It was the intention of these last, to slay him in the house of the Albizzi, whither he was expected to go on St. John’s day, to see the horses run, but he not having gone, their design did not succeed. They then resolved to attack him as he rode through the city; but they found this would be very difficult; for he was always accompanied with a considerable armed force, and never took the same road twice together, so that they had no certainty of where to find him. They had a design of slaying him in the council, although they knew that if he were dead, they would be at the mercy of his followers.

While these matters were being considered by the conspirators, Antonio Adimari, in expectation of getting assistance from them, disclosed the affair to some Siennese, his friends, naming certain of the conspirators, and assuring them that the whole city was ready to rise at once. One of them communicated the matter to Francesco Brunelleschi, not with a design to injure the plot, but in the hope that he would join them. Francesco, either from personal fear, or private hatred of some one, revealed the whole to the duke; whereupon, Pagolo del Mazecha and Simon da Monterappoli were taken, who acquainted him with the number and quality of the conspirators. This terrified him, and he was advised to request their presence rather than to take them prisoners, for if they fled, he might without disgrace, secure himself by banishment of the rest. He therefore sent for Antonio Adimari, who, confiding in his companions, appeared immediately, and was detained. Francesco Brunelleschi and Uguccione Buondelmonti advised the duke to take as many of the conspirators prisoners as he could, and put them to death; but he, thinking his strength unequal to his foes, did not adopt this course, but took another, which, had it succeeded, would have freed him from his enemies and increased his power. It was the custom of the duke to call the citizens together upon some occasions and advise with them. He therefore having first sent to collect forces from without, made a list of three hundred citizens, and gave it to his messengers, with orders to assemble them under the pretense of public business; and having drawn them together, it was his intention either to put them to death or imprison them.

The capture of Antonio Adimari and the sending for forces, which could not be kept secret, alarmed the citizens, and more particularly those who were in the plot, so that the boldest of them refused to attend, and as each had read the list, they sought each other, and resolved to rise at once and die like men, with arms in their hands, rather than be led like calves to the slaughter. In a very short time the chief conspirators became known to each other, and resolved that the next day, which was the 26th July, 1343, they would raise a disturbance in the Old Market place, then arm themselves and call the people to freedom.

The next morning being come, at nine o’clock, according to agreement, they took arms, and at the call of liberty assembled, each party in its own district, under the ensigns and with the arms of the people, which had been secretly provided by the conspirators. All the heads of families, as well of the nobility as of the people, met together, and swore to stand in each other’s defense, and effect the death of the duke; except some of the Buondelmonti and of the Cavalcanti, with those four families of the people which had taken so conspicuous a part in making him sovereign, and the butchers, with others, the lowest of the plebeians, who met armed in the piazza in his favor.

The duke immediately fortified the place, and ordered those of his people who were lodged in different parts of the city to mount upon horseback and join those in the court; but, on their way thither, many were attacked and slain. However, about three hundred horse assembled, and the duke was in doubt whether he should come forth and meet the enemy, or defend himself within. On the other hand, the Medici, Cavicciulli, Rucellai, and other families who had been most injured by him, fearful that if he came forth, many of those who had taken arms against him would discover themselves his partisans, in order to deprive him of the occasion of attacking them and increasing the number of his friends, took the lead and assailed the palace. Upon this, those families of the people who had declared for the duke, seeing themselves boldly attacked, changed their minds, and all took part with the citizens, except Uguccione Buondelmonti, who retired into the palace, and Giannozzo Cavalcanti, who having withdrawn with some of his followers to the new market, mounted upon a bench, and begged that those who were going in arms to the piazza, would take the part of the duke. In order to terrify them, he exaggerated the number of his people and threatened all with death who should obstinately persevere in their undertaking against their sovereign. But not finding any one either to follow him, or to chastise his insolence, and seeing his labor fruitless, he withdrew to his own house.

In the meantime, the contest in the piazza between the people and the forces of the duke was very great; but although the place served them for defense, they were overcome, some yielding to the enemy, and others, quitting their horses, fled within the walls. While this was going on, Corso and Amerigo Donati, with a part of the people, broke open the stinche, or prisons; burnt the papers of the provost and of the public chamber; pillaged the houses of the rectors, and slew all who had held offices under the duke whom they could find. The duke, finding the piazza in possession of his enemies, the city opposed to him, and without any hope of assistance, endeavored by an act of clemency to recover the favor of the people. Having caused those whom he had made prisoners to be brought before him, with amiable and kindly expressions he set them at liberty, and made Antonio Adimari a knight, although quite against his will. He caused his own arms to be taken down, and those of the people to be replaced over the palace; but these things coming out of season, and forced by his necessities, did him little good. He remained, notwithstanding all he did, besieged in the palace, and saw that having aimed at too much he had lost all, and would most likely, after a few days, die either of hunger, or by the weapons of his enemies. The citizens assembled in the church of Santa Reparata, to form the new government, and appointed fourteen citizens, half from the nobility and half from the people, who, with the archbishop, were invested with full authority to remodel the state of Florence. They also elected six others to take upon them the duties of provost, till he who should be finally chosen took office, the duties of which were usually performed by a subject of some neighboring state.

Many had come to Florence in defense of the people; among whom were a party from Sienna, with six ambassadors, men of high consideration in their own country. These endeavored to bring the people and the duke to terms; but the former refused to listen to any whatever, unless Guglielmo da Scesi and his son, with Cerrettieri Bisdomini, were first given up to them. The duke would not consent to this; but being threatened by those who were shut up with him, he was forced to comply. The rage of men is certainly always found greater, and their revenge more furious upon the recovery of liberty, than when it has only been defended. Guglielmo and his son were placed among the thousands of their enemies, and the latter was not yet eighteen years old; neither his beauty, his innocence, nor his youth, could save him from the fury of the multitude; but both were instantly slain. Those who could not wound them while alive, wounded them after they were dead; and not satisfied with tearing them to pieces, they hewed their bodies with swords, tore them with their hands, and even with their teeth. And that every sense might be satiated with vengeance, having first heard their moans, seen their wounds, and touched their lacerated bodies, they wished even the stomach to be satisfied, that having glutted the external senses, the one within might also have its share. This rabid fury, however hurtful to the father and son, was favorable to Cerrettieri; for the multitude, wearied with their cruelty toward the former, quite forgot him, so that he, not being asked for, remained in the palace, and during night was conveyed safely away by his friends.

The rage of the multitude being appeased by their blood, an agreement was made that the duke and his people, with whatever belonged to him, should quit the city in safety; that he should renounce all claim, of whatever kind, upon Florence, and that upon his arrival in the Casentino he should ratify his renunciation. On the sixth of August he set out, accompanied by many citizens, and having arrived at the Casentino he ratified the agreement, although unwillingly, and would not have kept his word if Count Simon had not threatened to take him back to Florence. This duke, as his proceedings testified, was cruel and avaricious, difficult to speak with, and haughty in reply. He desired the service of men, not the cultivation of their better feelings, and strove rather to inspire them with fear than love. Nor was his person less despicable than his manners; he was short, his complexion was black, and he had a long, thin beard. He was thus in every respect contemptible; and at the end of ten months, his misconduct deprived him of the sovereignty which the evil counsel of others had given him.

CHAPTER IX

Many cities and territories, subject to the Florentines, rebel — Prudent conduct adopted upon this occasion — The city is divided into quarters — Disputes between the nobility and the people — The bishop endeavors to reconcile them, but does not succeed — The government reformed by the people — Riot of Andrea Strozzi — Serious disagreements between the nobility and the people — They come to arms, and the nobility are subdued — The plague in Florence of which Boccaccio speaks.

These events taking place in the city, induced all the dependencies of the Florentine state to throw off their yoke; so that Arezzo, Castiglione, Pistoia, Volterra, Colle, and San Gemigniano rebelled. Thus Florence found herself deprived of both her tyrant and her dominions at the same moment, and in recovering her liberty, taught her subjects how they might become free. The duke being expelled and the territories lost, the fourteen citizens and the bishop thought it would be better to act kindly toward their subjects in peace, than to make them enemies by war, and to show a desire that their subjects should be free as well as themselves. They therefore sent ambassadors to the people of Arezzo, to renounce all dominion over that city, and to enter into a treaty with them; to the end that as they could not retain them as subjects, they might make use of them as friends. They also, in the best manner they were able, agreed with the other places that they should retain their freedom, and that, being free, they might mutually assist each other in the preservation of their liberties. This prudent course was attended with a most favorable result; for Arezzo, not many years afterward, returned to the Florentine rule, and the other places, in the course of a few months, returned to their former obedience. Thus it frequently occurs that we sooner attain our ends by a seeming indifferent to them, than by more obstinate pursuit.

Having settled external affairs, they now turned to the consideration of those within the city; and after some altercation between the nobility and the people, it was arranged that the nobility should form one-third of the Signory and fill one-half of the other offices. The city was, as we have before shown, divided into sixths; and hence there would be six signors, one for each sixth, except when, from some more than ordinary cause, there had been twelve or thirteen created; but when this had occurred they were again soon reduced to six. It now seemed desirable to make an alteration in this respect, as well because the sixths were not properly divided, as that, wishing to give their proportion to the great, it became desirable to increase the number. They therefore divided the city into quarters, and for each created three signors. They abolished the office of Gonfalonier of Justice, and also the Gonfaloniers of the companies of the people; and instead of the twelve Buonuomini, or good men, created eight counsellors, four from each party. The government having been established in this manner, the city might have been in repose if the great had been content to live in that moderation which civil society requires. But they produced a contrary result, for those out of office would not conduct themselves as citizens, and those who were in government wished to be lords, so that every day furnished some new instance of their insolence and pride. These things were very grievous to the people, and they began to regret that for one tyrant put down, there had sprung up a thousand. The arrogance of one party and the anger of the other rose to such a degree, that the heads of the people complained to the bishop of the improper conduct of the nobility, and what unfit associates they had become for the people; and begged he would endeavor to induce them to be content with their share of administration in the other offices, and leave the magistracy of the Signory wholly to themselves.

The bishop was naturally a well-meaning man, but his want of firmness rendered him easily influenced. Hence, at the instance of his associates, he at first favored the duke of Athens, and afterward, by the advice of other citizens, conspired against him. At the reformation of the government, he had favored the nobility, and now he appeared to incline toward the people, moved by the reasons which they had advanced. Thinking to find in others the same instability of purpose, he endeavored to effect an amicable arrangement. With this design he called together the fourteen who were yet in office, and in the best terms he could imagine advised them to give up the Signory to the people, in order to secure the peace of the city; and assured them that if they refused, ruin would most probably be the result.

This discourse excited the anger of the nobility to the highest pitch, and Ridolfo de’ Bardi reproved him in unmeasured terms as a man of little faith; reminding him of his friendship for the duke, to prove the duplicity of his present conduct, and saying, that in driving him away he had acted the part of a traitor. He concluded by telling him, that the honors they had acquired at their own peril, they would at their own peril defend. They then left the bishop, and in great wrath, informed their associates in the government, and all the families of the nobility, of what had been done. The people also expressed their thoughts to each other, and as the nobility made preparations for the defense of their signors, they determined not to wait till they had perfected their arrangements; and therefore, being armed, hastened to the palace, shouting, as they went along, that the nobility must give up their share in the government.

The uproar and excitement were astonishing. The Signors of the nobility found themselves abandoned; for their friends, seeing all the people in arms, did not dare to rise in their defense, but each kept within his own house. The Signors of the people endeavored to abate the excitement of the multitude, by affirming their associates to be good and moderate men; but, not succeeding in their attempt, to avoid a greater evil, sent them home to their houses, whither they were with difficulty conducted. The nobility having left the palace, the office of the four councillors was taken from their party, and conferred upon twelve of the people. To the eight signors who remained, a Gonfalonier of Justice was added, and sixteen Gonfaloniers of the companies of the people; and the council was so reformed, that the government remained wholly in the hands of the popular party.

At the time these events took place there was a great scarcity in the city, and discontent prevailed both among the highest and the lowest classes; in the latter for want of food, and in the former from having lost their power in the state. This circumstance induced Andrea Strozzi to think of making himself sovereign of the city. Selling his corn at a lower price than others did, a great many people flocked to his house; emboldened by the sight of these, he one morning mounted his horse, and, followed by a considerable number, called the people to arms, and in a short time drew together about 4,000 men, with whom he proceeded to the Signory, and demanded that the gates of the palace should be opened. But the signors, by threats and the force which they retained in the palace, drove them from the court; and then by proclamation so terrified them, that they gradually dropped off and returned to their homes, and Andrea, finding himself alone, with some difficulty escaped falling into the hands of the magistrates.

This event, although an act of great temerity, and attended with the result that usually follows such attempts, raised a hope in the minds of the nobility of overcoming the people, seeing that the lowest of the plebeians were at enmity with them. And to profit by this circumstance, they resolved to arm themselves, and with justifiable force recover those rights of which they had been unjustly deprived. Their minds acquired such an assurance of success, that they openly provided themselves with arms, fortified their houses, and even sent to their friends in Lombardy for assistance. The people and the Signory made preparation for their defense, and requested aid from Perugia and Sienna, so that the city was filled with the armed followers of either party. The nobility on this side of the Arno divided themselves into three parts; the one occupied the houses of the Cavicciulli, near the church of St. John; another, the houses of the Pazzi and the Donati, near the great church of St. Peter; and the third those of the Cavalcanti in the New Market. Those beyond the river fortified the bridges and the streets in which their houses stood; the Nerli defended the bridge of the Carraja; the Frescobaldi and the Manelli, the church of the Holy Trinity; and the Rossi and the Bardi, the bridge of the Rubaconte and the Old Bridge. The people were drawn together under the Gonfalon of justice and the ensigns of the companies of the artisans.

Both sides being thus arranged in order of battle, the people thought it imprudent to defer the contest, and the attack was commenced by the Medici and the Rondinelli, who assailed the Cavicciulli, where the houses of the latter open upon the piazza of St. John. Here both parties contended with great obstinacy, and were mutually wounded, from the towers by stones and other missiles, and from below by arrows. They fought for three hours; but the forces of the people continuing to increase, and the Cavicciulli finding themselves overcome by numbers, and hopeless of other assistance, submitted themselves to the people, who saved their houses and property; and having disarmed them, ordered them to disperse among their relatives and friends, and remain unarmed. Being victorious in the first attack, they easily overpowered the Pazzi and the Donati, whose numbers were less than those they had subdued; so that there only remained on this side of the Arno, the Cavalcanti, who were strong both in respect of the post they had chosen and in their followers. Nevertheless, seeing all the Gonfalons against them, and that the others had been overcome by three Gonfalons alone, they yielded without offering much resistance. Three parts of the city were now in the hands of the people, and only one in possession of the nobility; but this was the strongest, as well on account of those who held it, as from its situation, being defended by the Arno; hence it was first necessary to force the bridges. The Old Bridge was first assailed and offered a brave resistance; for the towers were armed, the streets barricaded, and the barricades defended by the most resolute men; so that the people were repulsed with great loss. Finding their labor at this point fruitless, they endeavored to force the Rubaconte Bridge, but no better success resulting, they left four Gonfalons in charge of the two bridges, and with the others attacked the bridge of the Carraja. Here, although the Nerli defended themselves like brave men, they could not resist the fury of the people; for this bridge, having no towers, was weaker than the others, and was attacked by the Capponi, and many families of the people who lived in that vicinity. Being thus assailed on all sides, they abandoned the barricades and gave way to the people, who then overcame the Rossi and the Frescobaldi; for all those beyond the Arno took part with the conquerors.

There was now no resistance made except by the Bardi, who remained undaunted, notwithstanding the failure of their friends, the union of the people against them, and the little chance of success which they seemed to have. They resolved to die fighting, and rather see their houses burned and plundered, than submit to the power of their enemies. They defended themselves with such obstinacy, that many fruitless attempts were made to overcome them, both at the Old Bridge and the Rubaconte; but their foes were always repulsed with loss. There had in former times been a street which led between the houses of the Pitti, from the Roman road to the walls upon Mount St. George. By this way the people sent six Gonfalons, with orders to assail their houses from behind. This attack overcame the resolution of the Bardi, and decided the day in favor of the people; for when those who defended the barricades in the street learned that their houses were being plundered, they left the principal fight and hastened to their defense. This caused the Old Bridge to be lost; the Bardi fled in all directions and were received into the houses of the Quaratesi, Panzanesi, and Mozzi. The people, especially the lower classes, greedy for spoil, sacked and destroyed their houses, and pulled down and burned their towers and palaces with such outrageous fury, that the most cruel enemy of the Florentine name would have been ashamed of taking part in such wanton destruction.

The nobility being thus overcome, the people reformed the government; and as they were of three kinds, the higher, the middle, and the lower class, it was ordered that the first should appoint two signors; the two latter three each, and that the Gonfalonier should be chosen alternately from either party. Besides this, all the regulations for the restraint of the nobility were renewed; and in order to weaken them still more, many were reduced to the grade of the people. The ruin of the nobility was so complete, and depressed them so much, that they never afterward ventured to take arms for the recovery of their power, but soon became humbled and abject in the extreme. And thus Florence lost the generosity of her character and her distinction in arms.

After these events the city remained in peace till the year 1353. In the course of this period occurred the memorable plague, described with so much eloquence by Giovanni Boccaccio, and by which Florence lost 96,000 souls. In 1348, began the first war with the Visconti, occasioned by the archbishop, then prince of Milan; and when this was concluded, dissensions again arose in the city; for although the nobility were destroyed, fortune did not fail to cause new divisions and new troubles.

BOOK III

CHAPTER I

Reflections upon the domestic discords of republics — A parallel between the discords of Rome and those of Florence — Enmities between the families of the Ricci and the Albizzi — Uguccione de’ Ricci causes the laws against the Ghibellines to be renewed in order to injure the Albizzi — Piero degli Albizzi derives advantage from it — Origin of admonitions and the troubles which result from them — Uguccione de’ Ricci moderates their injustice — Difficulties increase — A meeting of the citizens — They address the Signory — The Signory attempt to remedy the evils.

Those serious, though natural enmities, which occur between the popular classes and the nobility, arising from the desire of the latter to command, and the disinclination of the former to obey, are the causes of most of the troubles which take place in cities; and from this diversity of purpose, all the other evils which disturb republics derive their origin. This kept Rome disunited; and this, if it be allowable to compare small things with great, held Florence in disunion; although in each city it produced a different result; for animosities were only beginning with the people and nobility of Rome contended, while ours were brought to a conclusion by the contentions of our citizens. A new law settled the disputes of Rome; those of Florence were only terminated by the death and banishment of many of her best people. Those of Rome increased her military virtue, while that of Florence was quite extinguished by her divisions. The quarrels of Rome established different ranks of society, those of Florence abolished the distinctions which had previously existed. This diversity of effects must have been occasioned by the different purposes which the two people had in view. While the people of Rome endeavored to associate with the nobility in the supreme honors, those of Florence strove to exclude the nobility from all participation in them: as the desire of the Roman people was more reasonable, no particular offense was given to the nobility; they therefore consented to it without having recourse to arms; so that, after some disputes concerning particular points, both parties agreed to the enactment of a law which, while it satisfied the people, preserved the nobility in the enjoyment of their dignity.

On the other hand, the demands of the people of Florence being insolent and unjust, the nobility, became desperate, prepared for their defense with their utmost energy, and thus bloodshed and the exile of citizens followed. The laws which were afterward made, did not provide for the common good, but were framed wholly in favor of the conquerors. This too, must be observed, that from the acquisition of power, made by the people of Rome, their minds were very much improved; for all the offices of state being attainable as well by the people as the nobility, the peculiar excellencies of the latter exercised a most beneficial influence upon the former; and as the city increased in virtue she attained a more exalted greatness.

But in Florence, the people being conquerors, the nobility were deprived of all participation in the government; and in order to regain a portion of it, it became necessary for them not only to seem like the people, but to be like them in behavior, mind, and mode of living. Hence arose those changes in armorial bearings, and in the titles of families, which the nobility adopted, in order that they might seem to be of the people; military virtue and generosity of feeling became extinguished in them; the people not possessing these qualities, they could not appreciate them, and Florence became by degrees more and more depressed and humiliated. The virtue of the Roman nobility degenerating into pride, the citizens soon found that the business of the state could not be carried on without a prince. Florence had now come to such a point, that with a comprehensive mind at the head of affairs she would easily have been made to take any form that he might have been disposed to give her; as may be partly observed by a perusal of the preceding book.

Having given an account of the origin of Florence, the commencement of her liberty, with the causes of her divisions, and shown how the factions of the nobility and the people ceased with the tyranny of the duke of Athens, and the ruin of the former, we have now to speak of the animosities between the citizens and the plebeians and the various circumstances which they produced.

The nobility being overcome, and the war with the archbishop of Milan concluded, there did not appear any cause of dissension in Florence. But the evil fortune of the city, and the defective nature of her laws, gave rise to enmities between the family of the Albizzi and that of the Ricci, which divided her citizens as completely as those of the Buondelmonti and the Uberti, or the Donati and the Cerchi had formerly done. The pontiffs, who at this time resided in France, and the emperors, who abode in Germany, in order to maintain their influence in Italy, sent among us multitudes of soldiers of many countries, as English, Dutch, and Bretons. As these, upon the conclusion of a war, were thrown out of pay, though still in the country, they, under the standard of some soldier of fortune, plundered such people as were least prepared to defend themselves. In the year 1353 one of these companies came into Tuscany under the command of Monsignor Reale, of Provence, and his approach terrified all the cities of Italy. The Florentines not only provided themselves forces, but many citizens, among whom were the Albizzi and the Ricci, armed themselves in their own defense. These families were at the time full of hatred against each other, and each thought to obtain the sovereignty of the republic by overcoming his enemy. They had not yet proceeded to open violence, but only contended in the magistracies and councils. The city being all in arms, a quarrel arose in the Old Market place, and, as it frequently happens in similar cases, a great number of people were drawn together. The disturbance spreading, it was told the Ricci that the Albizzi had assailed their partisans, and to the Albizzi that the Ricci were in quest of them. Upon this the whole city arose, and it was all the magistrates could do to restrain these families, and prevent the actual occurrence of a disaster which, without being the fault of either of them, had been willfully though falsely reported as having already taken place. This apparently trifling circumstance served to inflame the minds of the parties, and make each the more resolved to increase the number of their followers. And as the citizens, since the ruin of the nobility, were on such an equality that the magistrates were more respected now than they had previously been, they designed to proceed toward the suppression of this disorder with civil authority alone.

We have before related, that after the victory of Charles I. the government was formed of the Guelphic party, and that it thus acquired great authority over the Ghibellines. But time, a variety of circumstances, and new divisions had so contributed to sink this party feeling into oblivion, that many of Ghibelline descent now filled the highest offices. Observing this, Uguccione, the head of the family of the Ricci, contrived that the law against the Ghibellines should be again brought into operation; many imagining the Albizzi to be of that faction, they having arisen in Arezzo, and come long ago to Florence. Uguccione by this means hoped to deprive the Albizzi of participation in the government, for all of Ghibelline blood who were found to hold offices, would be condemned in the penalties which this law provided. The design of Uguccione was discovered to Piero son of Filippo degli Albizzi, and he resolved to favor it: for he saw that to oppose it would at once declare him a Ghibelline; and thus the law which was renewed by the ambition of the Ricci for his destruction, instead of robbing Piero degli Albizzi of reputation, contributed to increase his influence, although it laid the foundation of many evils. Nor is it possible for a republic to enact a law more pernicious than one relating to matters which have long transpired. Piero having favored this law, which had been contrived by his enemies for his stumbling-block, it became the stepping-stone to his greatness; for, making himself the leader of this new order of things, his authority went on increasing, and he was in greater favor with the Guelphs than any other man.

As there could not be found a magistrate willing to search out who were Ghibellines, and as this renewed enactment against them was therefore of small value, it was provided that authority should be given to the Capitani to find out who were of this faction; and, having discovered, to signify and ADMONISH them that they were not to take upon themselves any office of government; to which ADMONITIONS, if they were disobedient, they became condemned in the penalties. Hence, all those who in Florence are deprived of the power to hold offices are called ammoniti, or ADMONISHED.

The Capitani in time acquiring greater audacity, admonished not only those to whom the admonition was applicable, but any others at the suggestion of their own avarice or ambition; and from 1356, when this law was made, to 1366, there had been admonished above 200 citizens. The Captains of the Parts and the sect of the Guelphs were thus become powerful; for every one honored them for fear of being admonished; and most particularly the leaders, who were Piero degli Albizzi, Lapo da Castiglionchio, and Carlo Strozzi. This insolent mode of proceeding was offensive to many; but none felt so particularly injured with it as the Ricci; for they knew themselves to have occasioned it, they saw it involved the ruin of the republic, and their enemies, the Albizzi, contrary to their intention, became great in consequence.

On this account Uguccione de’ Ricci, being one of the Signory, resolved to put an end to the evil which he and his friends had originated, and with a new law provided that to the six Captains of Parts an additional three should be appointed, of whom two should be chosen from the companies of minor artificers, and that before any party could be declared Ghibelline, the declaration of the Capitani must be confirmed by twenty-four Guelphic citizens, appointed for the purpose. This provision tempered for a time the power of the Capitani, so that the admonitions were greatly diminished, if not wholly laid aside. Still the parties of the Albizzi and the Ricci were continually on the alert to oppose each other’s laws, deliberations, and enterprises, not from a conviction of their inexpediency, but from a hatred of their promoters.

In such distractions the time passed from 1366 to 1371, when the Guelphs again regained the ascendant. There was in the family of the Buondelmonti a gentleman named Benchi, who, as an acknowledgment of his merit in a war against the Pisans, though one of the nobility, had been admitted among the people, and thus became eligible to office among the Signory; but when about to take his seat with them, a law was made that no nobleman who had become of the popular class should be allowed to assume that office. This gave great offense to Benchi, who, in union with Piero degli Albizzi, determined to depress the less powerful of the popular party with ADMONITIONS, and obtain the government for themselves. By the interest which Benchi possessed with the ancient nobility, and that of Piero with most of the influential citizens, the Guelphic party resumed their ascendancy, and by new reforms among the PARTS, so remodeled the administration as to be able to dispose of the offices of the captains and the twenty-four citizens at pleasure. They then returned to the ADMONITIONS with greater audacity than ever, and the house of the Albizzi became powerful as the head of this faction.

On the other hand, the Ricci made the most strenuous exertions against their designs; so that anxiety universally prevailed, and ruin was apprehended alike from both parties. In consequence of this a great number of citizens, out of love to their country, assembled in the church of St. Piero Scarraggio, and after a long consideration of the existing disorders, presented themselves before the Signors, whom one of the principal among them addressed in the following terms: —

“Many of us, magnificent Signors! were afraid of meeting even for consideration of public business, without being publicly called together, lest we should be noted as presumptuous or condemned as ambitious. But seeing that so many citizens daily assemble in the lodges and halls of the palace, not for any public utility, but only for the gratification of their own ambition, we have thought that as those who assemble for the ruin of the republic are fearless, so still less ought they to be apprehensive who meet together only for its advantage; nor ought we to be anxious respecting the opinion they may form of our assembling, since they are so utterly indifferent to the opinion of others. Our affection for our country, magnificent Signors! caused us to assemble first, and now brings us before you, to speak of grievances already great and daily increasing in our republic, and to offer our assistance for their removal: and we doubt not that, though a difficult undertaking, it will still be attended with success, if you will lay aside all private regards, and authoritatively use the public force.

“The common corruption of all the cities of Italy, magnificent Signors! has infested and still vitiates your own; for when this province had shaken off the imperial yoke, her cities not being subject to any powerful influence that might restrain them, administered affairs, not as free men do, but as a factious populace; and hence have arisen all the other evils and disorders that have appeared. In the first place, there cannot be found among the citizens either unity or friendship, except with those whose common guilt, either against their country or against private individuals, is a bond of union. And as the knowledge of religion and the fear of God seem to be alike extinct, oaths and promises have lost their validity, and are kept as long as it is found expedient; they are adopted only as a means of deception, and he is most applauded and respected whose cunning is most efficient and secure. On this account bad men are received with the approbation due to virtue, and good ones are regarded only in the light of fools.

“And certainly in the cities of Italy all that is corruptible and corrupting is assembled. The young are idle, the old lascivious, and each sex and every age abounds with debasing habits, which the good laws, by misapplication, have lost the power to correct. Hence arises the avarice so observable among the citizens, and that greediness, not for true glory, but for unworthy honors; from which follow hatred, animosities, quarrels, and factions; resulting in deaths, banishments, affliction to all good men, and the advancement of the most unprincipled; for the good, confiding in their innocence, seek neither safety nor advancement by illegal methods as the wicked do, and thus unhonored and undefended they sink into oblivion.

“From proceedings such as these, arise at once the attachment for and influence of parties; bad men follow them through ambition and avarice, and necessity compels the good to pursue the same course. And most lamentable is it to observe how the leaders and movers of parties sanctify their base designs with words that are all piety and virtue; they have the name of liberty constantly in their mouths, though their actions prove them her greatest enemies. The reward which they desire from victory is not the glory of having given liberty to the city, but the satisfaction of having vanquished others, and of making themselves rulers; and to attain their end, there is nothing too unjust, too cruel, too avaricious for them to attempt. Thus laws and ordinances, peace, wars, and treaties are adopted and pursued, not for the public good, not for the common glory of the state, but for the convenience or advantage of a few individuals.

“And if other cities abound in these disorders, ours is more than any infected with them; for her laws, statutes, and civil ordinances are not, nor have they ever been, established for the benefit of men in a state of freedom, but according to the wish of the faction that has been uppermost at the time. Hence it follows that, when one party is expelled, or faction extinguished, another immediately arises; for, in a city that is governed by parties rather than by laws, as soon as one becomes dominant and unopposed, it must of necessity soon divide against itself; for the private methods at first adapted for its defense will now no longer keep it united. The truth of this, both the ancient and modern dissensions of our city prove. Everyone thought that when the Ghibellines were destroyed, the Guelphs would long continue happy and honored; yet after a short time they divided into the Bianchi and Neri, the black faction and the white. When the Bianchi were overcome, the city was not long free from factions; for either, in favor of the emigrants, or on account of the animosity between the nobility and the people, we were still constantly at war. And as if resolved to give up to others, what in mutual harmony we either would not or were unable to retain, we confided the care of our precious liberty first to King Robert, then to his brother, next to his son, and at last to the duke of Athens. Still we have never in any condition found repose, but seem like men who can neither agree to live in freedom nor be content with slavery. Nor did we hesitate (so greatly does the nature of our ordinances dispose us to division), while yet under allegiance to the king, to substitute for his majesty, one of the vilest of men born at Agobbio.

“For the credit of the city, the name of the duke of Athens ought to be consigned to oblivion. His cruel and tyrannical disposition, however, might have taught us wisdom and instructed us how to live; but no sooner was he expelled than we handled our arms, and fought with more hatred, and greater fury than we had ever done on any former occasion; so that the ancient nobility were vanquished the city was left at the disposal of the people. It was generally supposed that no further occasion of quarrel or of party animosity could arise, since those whose pride and insupportable ambition had been regarded as the causes of them were depressed; however, experience proves how liable human judgment is to error, and what false impressions men imbibe, even in regard to the things that most intimately concern them; for we find the pride and ambition of the nobility are not extinct, but only transferred from them to the people who at this moment, according to the usual practice of ambitious men, are endeavoring to render themselves masters of the republic; and knowing they have no chance of success but what is offered by discord, they have again divided the city, and the names of Guelph and Ghibelline, which were beginning to be forgotten (and it would have been well if they had never been heard among us), are repeated anew in our ears.

“It seems almost necessarily ordained, in order that in human affairs there may be nothing either settled or permanent, that in all republics there are what may be called fatal families, born for the ruin of their country. Of this kind of pest our city has produced a more copious brood than any other; for not one but many have disturbed and harassed her: first the Buondelmonti and the Uberti; then the Donati and the Cerchi; and now, oh ridiculous! oh disgraceful thought! the Ricci and the Albizzi have caused a division of her citizens.

“We have not dwelt upon our corrupt habits or our old and continual dissensions to occasion you alarm, but to remind you of their causes; to show that as you doubtless are aware of them, we also keep them in view, and to remind you that their results ought not to make you diffident of your power to repress the disorders of the present time. The ancient families possessed so much influence, and were held in such high esteem, that civil force was insufficient to restrain them; but now, when the empire has lost its ascendancy, the pope is no longer formidable, and the whole of Italy is reduced to a state of the most complete equality, there can be no difficulty. Our republic might more especially than any other (although at first our former practices seem to present a reason to the contrary), not only keep itself united but be improved by good laws and civil regulations, if you, the Signory, would once resolve to undertake the matter; and to this we, induced by no other motive than the love of our country, would most strongly urge you. It is true the corruption of the country is great, and much discretion will be requisite to correct it; but do not impute the past disorders to the nature of the men, but to the times, which, being changed, give reasonable ground to hope that, with better government, our city will be attended with better fortune; for the malignity of the people will be overcome by restraining the ambition and annulling the ordinances of those who have encouraged faction, and adopting in their stead only such principles as are conformable to true civil liberty. And be assured, that these desirable ends will be more certainly attained by the benign influence of the laws, than by a delay which will compel the people to effect them by force and arms.”

The Signory, induced by the necessity of the case, of which they were previously aware, and further encouraged by the advice of those who now addressed them, gave authority to fifty-six citizens to provide for the safety of the republic. It is usually found that most men are better adapted to pursue a good course already begun, than to discover one applicable to immediate circumstances. These citizens thought rather of extinguishing existing factions than of preventing the formation of new ones, and effected neither of these objects. The facilities for the establishment of new parties were not removed; and out of those which they guarded against, another more powerful arose, which brought the republic into still greater danger. They, however, deprived three of the family of the Albizzi, and three of that of the Ricci, of all the offices of government, except those of the Guelphic party, for three years; and among the deprived were Piero degli Albizzi and Uguccione de’ Ricci. They forbade the citizens to assemble in the palace, except during the sittings of the Signory. They provided that if any one were beaten, or possession of his property detained from him, he might bring his case before the council and denounce the offender, even if he were one of the nobility; and that if it were proved, the accused should be subject to the usual penalties. This provision abated the boldness of the Ricci, and increased that of the Albizzi; since, although it applied equally to both, the Ricci suffered from it by far the most; for if Piero was excluded from the palace of the Signory, the chamber of the Guelphs, in which he possessed the greatest authority, remained open to him; and if he and his followers had previously been ready to ADMONISH, they became after this injury, doubly so. To this pre-disposition for evil, new excitements were added.

CHAPTER II

The war of the Florentines against the pope’s legate, and the causes of it — League against the pope — The censures of the pope disregarded in Florence — The city is divided into two factions, the one the Capitani di Parte, the other of the eight commissioners of the war — Measures adopted by the Guelphic party against their adversaries — The Guelphs endeavor to prevent Salvestro de Medici from being chosen Gonfalonier — Salvestro de Medici Gonfalonier — His law against the nobility, and in favor of the Ammoniti — The Collegi disapprove of the law — Salvestro addresses the council in its favor — The law is passed — Disturbances in Florence.

The papal chair was occupied by Gregory XI. He, like his predecessors, residing at Avignon, governed Italy by legates, who, proud and avaricious, oppressed many of the cities. One of these legates, then at Bologna, taking advantage of a great scarcity of food at Florence, endeavored to render himself master of Tuscany, and not only withheld provisions from the Florentines, but in order to frustrate their hopes of the future harvest, upon the approach of spring, attacked them with a large army, trusting that being famished and unarmed, he should find them an easy conquest. He might perhaps have been successful, had not his forces been mercenary and faithless, and, therefore, induced to abandon the enterprise for the sum of 130,000 florins, which the Florentines paid them. People may go to war when they will, but cannot always withdraw when they like. This contest, commenced by the ambition of the legate, was sustained by the resentment of the Florentines, who, entering into a league with Bernabo of Milan, and with the cities hostile to the church, appointed eight citizens for the administration of it, giving them authority to act without appeal, and to expend whatever sums they might judge expedient, without rendering an account of the outlay.

This war against the pontiff, although Uguccione was now dead, reanimated those who had followed the party of the Ricci, who, in opposition to the Albizzi, had always favored Bernabo and opposed the church, and this, the rather, because the eight commissioners of war were all enemies of the Guelphs. This occasioned Piero degli Albizzi, Lapo da Castiglionchio, Carlo Strozzi, and others, to unite themselves more closely in opposition to their adversaries. The eight carried on the war, and the others admonished during three years, when the death of the pontiff put an end to the hostilities, which had been carried on which so much ability, and with such entire satisfaction to the people, that at the end of each year the eight were continued in office, and were called Santi, or holy, although they had set ecclesiastical censures at defiance, plundered the churches of their property, and compelled the priests to perform divine service. So much did citizens at that time prefer the good of their country to their ghostly consolations, and thus showed the church, that if as her friends they had defended, they could as enemies depress her; for the whole of Romagna, the Marches, and Perugia were excited to rebellion.

Yet while this war was carried on against the pope, they were unable to defend themselves against the captains of the parts and their faction; for the insolence of the Guelphs against the eight attained such a pitch, that they could not restrain themselves from abusive behavior, not merely against some of the most distinguished citizens, but even against the eight themselves; and the captains of the parts conducted themselves with such arrogance, that they were feared more than the Signory. Those who had business with them treated them with greater reverence, and their court was held in higher estimation: so that no ambassador came to Florence, without commission to the captains.

Pope Gregory being dead, and the city freed from external war; there still prevailed great confusion within; for the audacity of the Guelphs was insupportable, and as no available mode of subduing them presented itself, it was thought that recourse must be had to arms, to determine which party was the strongest. With the Guelphs were all the ancient nobility, and the greater part of the most popular leaders, of which number, as already remarked, were Lapo, Piero, and Carlo. On the other side, were all the lower orders, the leaders of whom were the eight commissioners of war, Giorgio Scali and Tommaso Strozzi, and with them the Ricci, Alberti, and Medici. The rest of the multitude, as most commonly happens, joined the discontented party.

It appeared to the heads of the Guelphic faction that their enemies would be greatly strengthened, and themselves in considerable danger in case a hostile Signory should resolve on their subjugation. Desirous, therefore, of being prepared against this calamity, the leaders of the party assembled to take into consideration the state of the city and that of their own friends in particular, and found the ammoniti so numerous and so great a difficulty, that the whole city was excited against them on this account. They could not devise any other remedy than, that as their enemies had deprived them of all the offices of honor, they should banish their opponents from the city, take possession of the palace of the Signory, and bring over the whole state to their own party; in imitation of the Guelphs of former times, who found no safety in the city, till they had driven all their adversaries out of it. They were unanimous upon the main point, but did not agree upon the time of carrying it into execution. It was in the month of April, in the year 1378, when Lapo, thinking delay inadvisable, expressed his opinion, that procrastination was in the highest degree perilous to themselves; as in the next Signory, Salvestro de’ Medici would very probably be elected Gonfalonier, and they all knew he was opposed to their party. Piero degli Albizzi, on the other hand, thought it better to defer, since they would require forces, which could not be assembled without exciting observation, and if they were discovered, they would incur great risk. He thereupon judged it preferable to wait till the approaching feast of St. John on which, being the most solemn festival of the city, vast multitudes would be assembled, among whom they might conceal whatever numbers they pleased. To obviate their fears of Salvestro, he was to be ADMONISHED, and if this did not appear likely to be effectual, they would “ADMONISH” one of the Colleague of his quarter, and upon redrawing, as the ballot-boxes would be nearly empty, chance would very likely occasion that either he or some associate of his would be drawn, and he would thus be rendered incapable of sitting as Gonfalonier. They therefore came to the conclusion proposed by Piero, though Lapo consented reluctantly, considering the delay dangerous, and that, as no opportunity can be in all respects suitable, he who waits for the concurrence of every advantage, either never makes an attempt, or, if induced to do so, is most frequently foiled. They “admonished” the Colleague, but did not prevent the appointment of Salvestro, for the design was discovered by the Eight, who took care to render all attempts upon the drawing futile.

Salvestro Alammano de’ Medici was therefore drawn Gonfalonier, and, being one of the noblest popular families, he could not endure that the people should be oppressed by a few powerful persons. Having resolved to put an end to their insolence, and perceiving the middle classes favorably disposed, and many of the highest of the people on his side, he communicated his design to Benedetto Alberti, Tommaso Strozzi, and Georgio Scali, who all promised their assistance. They, therefore, secretly draw up a law which had for its object to revive the restrictions upon the nobility, to retrench the authority of the Capitani di Parte, and recall the ammoniti to their dignity. In order to attempt and obtain their ends, at one and the same time, having to consult, first the Colleagues and then the Councils, Salvestro being Provost (which office for the time makes its possessor almost prince of the city), he called together the Colleagues and the Council on the same morning, and the Colleagues being apart, he proposed the law prepared by himself and his friends, which, being a novelty, encountered in their small number so much opposition, that he was unable to have it passed.

Salvestro, seeing his first attempt likely to fail, pretended to leave the room for a private reason, and, without being perceived, went immediately to the Council, and taking a lofty position from which he could be both seen and heard, said:— “That considering himself invested with the office of Gonfalonier, not so much to preside in private cases (for which proper judges were appointed, who have their regular sittings), as to guard the state, correct the insolence of the powerful, and ameliorate those laws by the influence of which the republic was being ruined, he had carefully attended to both these duties, and to his utmost ability provided for them, but found the perversity of some so much opposed to his just designs as to deprive him of all opportunity of doing good, and them not only of the means of assisting him with their counsel, but even hearing him. Therefore finding he no longer contributed either to the benefit of the republic or of the people generally, he could not perceive any reason for his longer holding the magistracy, of which he was either undeserving, or others thought him so, and would therefore retire to his house, that the people might appoint another in his stead, who would either have greater virtue or better fortune than himself.” And having said this, he left the room as if to return home.

Those of the council who were in the secret, and others desirous of novelty, raised a tumult, at which the Signory and the Colleagues came together, and finding the Gonfalonier leaving them, entreatingly and authoritatively detained him, and obliged him to return to the council room, which was now full of confusion. Many of the noble citizens were threatened in opprobrious language; and an artificer seized Carlo Strozzi by the throat, and would undoubtedly have murdered him, but was with difficulty prevented by those around. He who made the greatest disturbance, and incited the city to violence, was Benedetto degli Alberti, who, from a window of the palace, loudly called the people to arms; and presently the courtyards were filled with armed men, and the Colleagues granted to threats, what they had refused to entreaty. The Capitani di Parte had at the same time drawn together a great number of citizens to their hall to consult upon the means of defending themselves against the orders of the Signors, but when they heard the tumult that was raised, and were informed of the course the Councils had adopted, each took refuge in his own house.

Let no one, when raising popular commotions, imagine he can afterward control them at his pleasure, or restrain them from proceeding to the commission of violence. Salvestro intended to enact his law, and compose the city; but it happened otherwise; for the feelings of all had become so excited, that they shut up the shops; the citizens fortified themselves in their houses; many conveyed their valuable property into the churches and monasteries, and everyone seemed to apprehend something terrible at hand. The companies of the Arts met, and each appointed an additional officer or Syndic; upon which the Priors summoned their Colleagues and these Syndics, and consulted a whole day how the city might be appeased with satisfaction to the different parties; but much difference of opinion prevailed, and no conclusion was come to. On the following day the Arts brought forth their banners, which the Signory understanding, and being apprehensive of evil, called the Council together to consider what course to adopt. But scarcely were they met, when the uproar recommenced, and soon the ensigns of the Arts, surrounded by vast numbers of armed men, occupied the courts. Upon this the Council, to give the Arts and the people hope of redress, and free themselves as much as possible from the charge of causing the mischief, gave a general power, which in Florence is called Balia, to the Signors, the Colleagues, the Eight, the Capitani di Parte, and to the Syndics of the Arts, to reform the government of the city, for the common benefit of all. While this was being arranged, a few of the ensigns of the Arts and some of the mob, desirous of avenging themselves for the recent injuries they had received from the Guelphs, separated themselves from the rest, and sacked and burnt the house of Lapo da Castiglionchio, who, when he learned the proceedings of the Signory against the Guelphs, and saw the people in arms, having no other resource but concealment or flight, first took refuge in Santa Croce, and afterward, being disguised as a monk, fled into the Casentino, where he was often heard to blame himself for having consented to wait till St. John’s day, before they had made themselves sure of the government. Piero degli Albizzi and Carlo Strozzi hid themselves upon the first outbreak of the tumult, trusting that when it was over, by the interest of their numerous friends and relations, they might remain safely in Florence.

The house of Lapo being burnt, as mischief begins with difficulty but easily increases, many other houses, either through public hatred, or private malice, shared the same fate; and the rioters, that they might have companions more eager than themselves to assist them in their work of plunder, broke open the public prisons, and then sacked the monastery of the Agnoli and the convent of S. Spirito, whither many citizens had taken their most valuable goods for safety. Nor would the public chambers have escaped these destroyers’ hands, except out of reverence for one of the Signors, who on horseback, and followed by many citizens in arms, opposed the rage of the mob.

CHAPTER III

Contrary measures adopted by the magistrates to effect a pacification — Luigi Guicciardini the Gonfalonier entreats the magistrates of the Arts to endeavor to pacify the people — Serious riot caused by the plebeians — The woolen Art — The plebeians assemble — The speech of a seditious plebeian — Their resolution thereupon — The Signory discover the designs of the plebeians — Measures adopted to counteract them.

This popular fury being abated by the authority of the Signors and the approach of night, on the following day, the Balia relieved the admonished, on condition that they should not for three years be capable of holding any magistracy. They annulled the laws made by the Guelphs to the prejudice of the citizens; declared Lapo da Castiglionchio and his companions, rebels, and with them many others, who were the objects of universal detestation. After these resolutions, the new Signory were drawn for, and Luigi Guicciardini appointed Gonfalonier, which gave hope that the tumults would soon be appeased; for everyone thought them to be peaceable men and lovers of order. Still the shops were not opened, nor did the citizens lay down their arms, but continued to patrol the city in great numbers; so that the Signory did not assume the magistracy with the usual pomp, but merely assembled within the palace, omitting all ceremony.

This Signory, considering nothing more advisable in the beginning of their magistracy than to restore peace, caused a relinquishment of arms; ordered the shops to be opened, and the strangers who had been called to their aid, to return to their homes. They appointed guards in many parts of the city, so that if the admonished would only have remained quiet, order would soon have been re-established. But they were not satisfied to wait three years for the recovery of their honours; so that to gratify them the Arts again met, and demanded of the Signory, that for the benefit and quiet of the city, they would ordain that no citizens should at any time, whether Signor, Colleague, Capitano di Parte, or Consul of any art whatever, be admonished as a Ghibelline; and further, that new ballots of the Guelphic party should be made, and the old ones burned. These demands were at once acceded to, not only by the Signors, but by all the Councils; and thus it was hoped the tumults newly excited would be settled.

But since men are not satisfied with recovering what is their own, but wish to possess the property of others and to revenge themselves, those who were in hopes of benefiting by these disorders persuaded the artificers that they would never be safe, if several of their enemies were not expelled from the city or destroyed. This terrible doctrine coming to the knowledge of the Signory, they caused the magistrates of the Arts and their Syndics to be brought before them, and Luigi Guicciardini, the Gonfalonier, addressed them in the following words: “If these Signors, and I with them, had not long been acquainted with the fate of this city, that as soon as external wars have ceased the internal commence, we should have been more surprised, and our displeasure would have been greater. But as evils to which we are accustomed are less annoying, we have endured past disturbances patiently, they having arisen for the most part without our fault; and we hoped that, like former troubles, they would soon have an end, after the many and great concessions we had made at your suggestion. But finding that you are yet unsettled, that you contemplate the commission of new crimes against your fellow-citizens, and are desirous of making new exiles, our displeasure increases in proportion to your misconduct. And certainly, could we have believed that during our magistracy the city was to be ruined, whether with or without your concurrence, we should certainly, either by flight or exile, have avoided these horrors. But trusting that we had to do with those who possessed some feelings of humanity and some love of their country, we willingly accepted the magistracy, thinking that by our gentleness we should overcome your ambition. But we perceive from experience that the more humble our behavior, the more concessions we make, the prouder you become, and the more exorbitant are your demands. And though we speak thus, it is not in order to offend, but to amend you. Let others tell you pleasing tales, our design is to communicate only what is for your good. Now we would ask you, and have you answer on your honor, What is there yet ungranted, that you can, with any appearance of propriety, require? You wished to have authority taken from the Capitani di Parte; and it is done. You wished that the ballotings should be burned, and a reformation of them take place; and we consent. You desired that the admonished should be restored to their honours; and it is permitted. At your entreaty we have pardoned those who have burned down houses and plundered churches; many honorable citizens have been exiled to please you; and at your suggestion new restraints have been laid upon the Great. When will there be an end of your demands? and how long will you continue to abuse our liberality? Do you not observe with how much more moderation we bear defeat than you your victory? To what end will your divisions bring our city? Have you forgotten that when disunited Castruccio, a low citizen of Lucca, subdued her? or that a duke of Athens, your hired captain did so too? But when the citizens were united in her defense, an archbishop of Milan and a pope were unable to subdue it, and, after many years of war, were compelled to retire with disgrace.

“Then why would you, by your discords, reduce to slavery in a time of peace, that city, which so many powerful enemies have left free, even in war? What can you expect from your disunion but subjugation? or from the property of which you already have plundered, or may yet plunder us, but poverty? for this property is the means by which we furnish occupation for the whole city, and if you take it from us, our means of finding that occupation is withdrawn. Besides, those who take it will have difficulty in preserving what is dishonestly acquired, and thus poverty and destitution are brought upon the city. Now, I, and these Signors command, and if it were consistent with propriety, we would entreat that you allow your minds to be calmed; be content, rest satisfied with the provisions that have been made for you; and if you should be found to need anything further, make your request with decency and order, and not with tumult; for when your demands are reasonable they will always be complied with, and you will not give occasion to evil designing men to ruin your country and cast the blame upon yourselves.” These words conveying nothing but the truth, produced a suitable effect upon the minds of the citizens, who thanking the Gonfalonier for having acted toward them the part of a king Signor, and toward the city that of a good citizen, offered their obedience in whatever might be committed to them. And the Signors, to prove the sincerity of their intentions, appointed two citizens for each of the superior magistracies, who, with Syndics of the arts, were to consider what could be done to restore quite, and report their resolutions to the Signors.

While these things were in progress, a disturbance arose, much more injurious to the republic than anything that had hitherto occurred. The greatest part of the fires and robberies which took place on the previous days were perpetrated by the very lowest of the people; and those who had been the most audacious, were afraid that when the greater differences were composed, they would be punished for the crimes they had committed; and that as usual, they would be abandoned by those who had instigated them to the commission of crime. To this may be added, the hatred of the lower orders toward the rich citizens and the principals of the arts, because they did not think themselves remunerated for their labor in a manner equal to their merits. For in the time of Charles I., when the city was divided into arts, a head or governor was appointed to each, and it was provided that the individuals of each art, should be judged in civil matters by their own superiors. These arts, as we have before observed, were at first twelve; in the course of time they were increased to twenty-one, and attained so much power, that in a few years they grasped the entire government of the city; and as some were in greater esteem than others, they were divided into MAJOR and MINOR; seven were called “major,” and fourteen, the “minor arts.” From this division, and from other causes which we have narrated above, arose the arrogance of the Capitani di Parte; for those citizens who had formerly been Guelphs, and had the constant disposal of that magistracy, favored the followers of the major and persecuted the minor arts and their patrons; and hence arose the many commotions already mentioned. When the companies of the arts were first organized, many of those trades, followed by the lowest of the people and the plebeians, were not incorporated, but were ranged under those arts most nearly allied to them; and, hence, when they were not properly remunerated for their labor, or their masters oppressed them, they had no one of whom to seek redress, except the magistrate of the art to which theirs was subject; and of him they did not think justice always attainable. Of the arts, that which had always had, and now has, the greatest number of these subordinates, is the woolen; which being both then, and still, the most powerful body, and first in authority, supports the greater part of the plebeians and lowest of the people.

The lower classes, then, the subordinates not only of the woolen, but also of the other arts, were discontented, from the causes just mentioned; and their apprehension of punishment for the burnings and robberies they had committed, did not tend to compose them. Meetings took place in different parts during the night, to talk over the past, and to communicate the danger in which they were, when one of the most daring and experienced, in order to animate the rest, spoke thus:

“If the question now were, whether we should take up arms, rob and burn the houses of the citizens, and plunder churches, I am one of those who would think it worthy of further consideration, and should, perhaps, prefer poverty and safety to the dangerous pursuit of an uncertain good. But as we have already armed, and many offenses have been committed, it appears to me that we have to consider how to lay them aside, and secure ourselves from the consequences of what is already done. I certainly think, that if nothing else could teach us, necessity might. You see the whole city full of complaint and indignation against us; the citizens are closely united, and the signors are constantly with the magistrates. You may be sure they are contriving something against us; they are arranging some new plan to subdue us. We ought therefore to keep two things in view, and have two points to consider; the one is, to escape with impunity for what has been done during the last few days, and the other, to live in greater comfort and security for the time to come. We must, therefore, I think, in order to be pardoned for our faults, commit new ones; redoubling the mischief, and multiplying fires and robberies; and in doing this, endeavor to have as many companions as we can; for when many are in fault, few are punished; small crimes are chastised, but great and serious ones rewarded. When many suffer, few seek vengeance; for general evils are endured more patiently than private ones. To increase the number of misdeeds will, therefore, make forgiveness more easily attainable, and will open the way to secure what we require for our own liberty. And it appears evident that the gain is certain; for our opponents are disunited and rich; their disunion will give us the victory, and their riches, when they have become ours, will support us. Be not deceived about that antiquity of blood by which they exalt themselves above us; for all men having had one common origin, are all equally ancient, and nature has made us all after one fashion. Strip us naked, and we shall all be found alike. Dress us in their clothing, and they in ours, we shall appear noble, they ignoble — for poverty and riches make all the difference. It grieves me much to think that some of you are sorry inwardly for what is done, and resolve to abstain from anything more of the kind. Certainly, if it be so, you are not the men I took you for; because neither shame nor conscience ought to have any influence with you. Conquerors, by what means soever, are never considered aught but glorious. We have no business to think about conscience; for when, like us, men have to fear hunger, and imprisonment, or death, the fear of hell neither can nor ought to have any influence upon them. If you only notice human proceedings, you may observe that all who attain great power and riches, make use of either force or fraud; and what they have acquired either by deceit or violence, in order to conceal the disgraceful methods of attainment, they endeavor to sanctify with the false title of honest gains. Those who either from imprudence or want of sagacity avoid doing so, are always overwhelmed with servitude and poverty; for faithful servants are always servants, and honest men are always poor; nor do any ever escape from servitude but the bold and faithless, or from poverty, but the rapacious and fraudulent. God and nature have thrown all human fortunes into the midst of mankind; and they are thus attainable rather by rapine than by industry, by wicked actions rather than by good. Hence it is that men feed upon each other, and those who cannot defend themselves must be worried. Therefore we must use force when the opportunity offers; and fortune cannot present us one more favorable than the present, when the citizens are still disunited, the Signory doubtful, and the magistrates terrified; for we may easily conquer them before they can come to any settled arrangement. By this means we shall either obtain the entire government of the city, or so large a share of it, as to be forgiven past errors, and have sufficient authority to threaten the city with a renewal of them at some future time. I confess this course is bold and dangerous, but when necessity presses, audacity becomes prudence, and in great affairs the brave never think of dangers. The enterprises that are begun with hazard always have a reward at last; and no one ever escaped from embarrassment without some peril. Besides, it is easy to see from all their preparations of prisons, racks, and instruments of death, that there is more danger in inaction than in endeavoring to secure ourselves; for in the first case the evils are certain, in the latter doubtful. How often have I heard you complain of the avarice of your superiors and the injustice of your magistrates. Now then is the time, not only to liberate yourself from them, but to become so much superior, that they will have more causes of grief and fear from you, than you from them. The opportunity presented by circumstances passes away, and when gone, it will be vain to think it can be recalled. You see the preparations of our enemies; let us anticipate them; and those who are first in arms will certainly be victors, to the ruin of their enemies and their own exaltation; and thus honors will accrue to many of us and security to all.” These arguments greatly inflamed minds already disposed to mischief, so that they determined to take up arms as soon as they had acquired a sufficient number of associates, and bound themselves by oath to mutual defense, in case any of them were subdued by the civil power.

While they were arranging to take possession of the republic, their design became known to the Signory, who, having taken a man named Simone, learned from him the particulars of the conspiracy, and that the outbreak was to take place on the following day. Finding the danger so pressing, they called together the colleagues and those citizens who with the syndics of the arts were endeavoring to effect the union of the city. It was then evening, and they advised the signors to assemble the consuls of the trades, who proposed that whatever armed force was in Florence should be collected, and with the Gonfaloniers of the people and their companies, meet under arms in the piazza next morning. It happened that while Simone was being tortured, a man named Niccolo da San Friano was regulating the palace clock, and becoming acquainted with what was going on, returned home and spread the report of it in his neighborhood, so that presently the piazza of St. Spirito was occupied by above a thousand men. This soon became known to the other conspirators, and San Pietro Maggiore and St. Lorenzo, their places of assembly, were presently full of them, all under arms.

CHAPTER IV

Proceedings of the plebeians — The demand they make of the Signory — They insist that the Signory leave the palace — The Signory leave the palace — Michael di Lando Gonfalonier — Complaints and movements of the plebeians against Michael di Lando — Michael di Lando proceeds against the plebeians and reduces them to order — Character of Michael di Lando.

At daybreak on the 21st of July, there did not appear in the piazza above eighty men in arms friendly to the Signory, and not one of the Gonfaloniers; for knowing the whole city to be in a state of insurrection they were afraid to leave their homes. The first body of plebeians that made its appearance was that which had assembled at San Pietro Maggiore; but the armed force did not venture to attack them. Then came the other multitudes, and finding no opposition, they loudly demanded their prisoners from the Signory; and being resolved to have them by force if they were not yielded to their threats, they burned the house of Luigi Guicciardini; and the Signory, for fear of greater mischief, set them at liberty. With this addition to their strength they took the Gonfalon of Justice from the bearer, and under the shadow of authority which it gave them, burned the houses of many citizens, selecting those whose owners had publicly or privately excited their hatred. Many citizens, to avenge themselves for private injuries, conducted them to the houses of their enemies; for it was quite sufficient to insure its destruction, if a single voice from the mob called out, “To the house of such a one,” or if he who bore the Gonfalon took the road toward it. All the documents belonging to the woolen trade were burned, and after the commission of much violence, by way of associating it with something laudable, Salvestro de Medici and sixty-three other citizens were made knights, among whom were Benedetto and Antonio degli Alberti, Tommaso Strozzi and others similarly their friends; though many received the honor against their wills. It was a remarkable peculiarity of the riots, that many who had their houses burned, were on the same day, and by the same party made knights; so close were the kindness and the injury together. This circumstance occurred to Luigi Guicciardini, Gonfalonier of Justice.

In this tremendous uproar, the Signory, finding themselves abandoned by their armed force, by the leaders of the arts, and by the Gonfaloniers, became dismayed; for none had come to their assistance in obedience to orders; and of the sixteen Gonfalons, the ensign of the Golden Lion and of the Vaio, under Giovenco della Stufa and Giovanni Cambi alone appeared; and these, not being joined by any other, soon withdrew. Of the citizens, on the other hand, some, seeing the fury of this unreasonable multitude and the palace abandoned, remained within doors; others followed the armed mob, in the hope that by being among them, they might more easily protect their own houses or those of their friends. The power of the plebeians was thus increased and that of the Signory weakened. The tumult continued all day, and at night the rioters halted near the palace of Stefano, behind the church of St. Barnabas. Their number exceeded six thousand, and before daybreak they obtained by threats the ensigns of the trades, with which and the Gonfalon of Justice, when morning came, they proceeded to the palace of the provost, who refusing to surrender it to them, they took possession of it by force.

The Signory, desirous of a compromise, since they could not restrain them by force, appointed four of the Colleagues to proceed to the palace of the provost, and endeavor to learn what was their intention. They found that the leaders of the plebeians, with the Syndics of the trades and some citizens, had resolved to signify their wishes to the Signory. They therefore returned with four deputies of the plebeians, who demanded that the woolen trade should not be allowed to have a foreign judge; that there should be formed three new companies of the arts; namely, one for the wool combers and dyers, one for the barbers, doublet-makers, tailors, and such like, and the third for the lowest class of people. They required that the three new arts should furnish two Signors; the fourteen minor arts, three; and that the Signory should provide a suitable place of assembly for them. They also made it a condition that no member of these companies should be expected during two years to pay any debt that amounted to less than fifty ducats; that the bank should take no interest on loans already contracted, and that only the principal sum should be demanded; that the condemned and the banished should be forgiven, and the admonished should be restored to participation in the honors of government. Besides these, many other articles were stipulated in favor of their friends, and a requisition made that many of their enemies should be exiled and admonished. These demands, though grievous and dishonorable to the republic, were for fear of further violence granted, by the joint deliberation of the Signors, Colleagues, and Council of the people. But in order to give it full effect, it was requisite that the Council of the Commune should also give its consent; and, as they could not assemble two councils during the same day it was necessary to defer it till the morrow. However the trades appeared content, the plebeians satisfied; and both promised, that these laws being confirmed, every disturbance should cease.

On the following morning, while the Council of the Commune were in consultation, the impatient and volatile multitude entered the piazza, under their respective ensigns, with loud and fearful shouts, which struck terror into all the Council and Signory; and Guerrente Marignolli, one of the latter, influenced more by fear than anything else, under pretense of guarding the lower doors, left the chamber and fled to his house. He was unable to conceal himself from the multitude, who, however, took no notice, except that, upon seeing him, they insisted that all the Signors should quit the palace, and declared that if they refused to comply, their houses should be burned and their families put to death.

The law had now been passed; the Signors were in their own apartments; the Council had descended from the chamber, and without leaving the palace, hopeless of saving the city, they remained in the lodges and courts below, overwhelmed with grief at seeing such depravity in the multitude, and such perversity or fear in those who might either have restrained or suppressed them. The Signory, too, were dismayed and fearful for the safety of their country, finding themselves abandoned by one of their associates, and without any aid or even advice; when, at this moment of uncertainty as to what was about to happen, or what would be best to be done, Tommaso Strozzi and Benedetto Alberti, either from motives of ambition (being desirous of remaining masters of the palace), or because they thought it the most advisable step, persuaded them to give way to the popular impulse, and withdraw privately to their homes. This advice, given by those who had been the leaders of the tumult, although the others yielded, filled Alamanno Acciajuoli and Niccolo del Bene, two of the Signors, with anger; and, reassuming a little vigor, they said, that if the others would withdraw they could not help it, but they would remain as long as they continued in office, if they did not in the meantime lose their lives. These dissensions redoubled the fears of the Signory and the rage of the people, so that the Gonfalonier, disposed rather to conclude his magistracy in dishonor than in danger, recommended himself to the care of Tommaso Strozzi, who withdrew him from the palace and conducted him to his house. The other Signors were, one after another, conveyed in the same manner, so that Alamanno and Niccolo, not to appear more valiant than wise, seeing themselves left alone, also retired, and the palace fell into the hands of the plebeians and the Eight Commissioners of War, who had not yet laid down their authority.

When the plebeians entered the palace, the standard of the Gonfalonier of Justice was in the hands of Michael di Lando, a wool comber. This man, barefoot, with scarcely anything upon him, and the rabble at his heels, ascended the staircase, and, having entered the audience chamber of the Signory, he stopped, and turning to the multitude said, “You see this palace is now yours, and the city is in your power; what do you think ought to be done?” To which they replied, they would have him for their Gonfalonier and lord; and that he should govern them and the city as he thought best. Michael accepted the command; and, as he was a cool and sagacious man, more favored by nature than by fortune, he resolved to compose the tumult, and restore peace to the city. To occupy the minds of the people, and give himself time to make some arrangement, he ordered that one Nuto, who had been appointed bargello, or sheriff, by Lapo da Castiglionchio, should be sought. The greater part of his followers went to execute this commission; and, to commence with justice the government he had acquired by favor, he commanded that no one should either burn or steal anything; while, to strike terror into all, he caused a gallows to be erected in the court of the palace. He began the reform of government by deposing the Syndics of the trades, and appointing new ones; he deprived the Signory and the Colleagues of their magistracy, and burned the balloting purses containing the names of those eligible to office under the former government.

In the meantime, Ser Nuto, being brought by the mob into the court, was suspended from the gallows by one foot; and those around having torn him to pieces, in little more than a moment nothing remained of him but the foot by which he had been tied.

The Eight Commissioners of War, on the other hand, thinking themselves, after the departure of the Signors, left sole masters of the city, had already formed a new Signory; but Michael, on hearing this, sent them an order to quit the palace immediately; for he wished to show that he could govern Florence without their assistance. He then assembled the Syndics of the trades, and created as a Signory, four from the lowest plebeians; two from the major, and two from the minor trades. Besides this, he made a new selection of names for the balloting purses, and divided the state into three parts; one composed of the new trades, another of the minor, and the third of the major trades. He gave to Salvestro de’ Medici the revenue of the shops upon the Old Bridge; for himself he took the provostry of Empoli, and conferred benefits upon many other citizens, friends of the plebeians; not so much for the purpose of rewarding their labors, as that they might serve to screen him from envy.

It seemed to the plebeians that Michael, in his reformation of the state, had too much favored the higher ranks of the people, and that themselves had not a sufficient share in the government to enable them to preserve it; and hence, prompted by their usual audacity, they again took arms, and coming tumultuously into the court of the palace, each body under their particular ensigns, insisted that the Signory should immediately descend and consider new means for advancing their well-being and security. Michael, observing their arrogance, was unwilling to provoke them, but without further yielding to their request, blamed the manner in which it was made, advised them to lay down their arms, and promised that then would be conceded to them, what otherwise, for the dignity of the state, must of necessity be withheld. The multitude, enraged at this reply, withdrew to Santa Maria Novella, where they appointed eight leaders for their party, with officers, and other regulations to ensure influence and respect; so that the city possessed two governments, and was under the direction of two distinct powers. These new leaders determined that Eight, elected from their trades, should constantly reside in the palace with the Signory, and that whatever the Signory should determine must be confirmed by them before it became law. They took from Salvestro de’ Medici and Michael di Lando the whole of what their former decrees had granted them, and distributed to many of their party offices and emoluments to enable them to support their dignity. These resolutions being passed, to render them valid they sent two of their body to the Signory, to insist on their being confirmed by the Council, with an intimation, that if not granted they would be vindicated by force. This deputation, with amazing audacity and surpassing presumption, explained their commission to the Signory, upbraided the Gonfalonier with the dignity they had conferred upon him, the honor they had done him, and with the ingratitude and want of respect he had shown toward them. Coming to threats toward the end of their discourse, Michael could not endure their arrogance, and sensible rather of the dignity of the office he held than of the meanness of his origin, determined by extraordinary means to punish such extraordinary insolence, and drawing the sword with which he was girt, seriously wounded, and cause them to be seized and imprisoned.

When the fact became known, the multitude were filled with rage, and thinking that by their arms they might ensure what without them they had failed to effect, they seized their weapons and with the utmost fury resolved to force the Signory to consent to their wishes. Michael, suspecting what would happen, determined to be prepared, for he knew his credit rather required him to be first to the attack than to wait the approach of the enemy, or, like his predecessors, dishonor both the palace and himself by flight. He therefore drew together a good number of citizens (for many began to see their error), mounted on horseback, and followed by crowds of armed men, proceeded to Santa Maria Novella, to encounter his adversaries. The plebeians, who as before observed were influenced by a similar desire, had set out about the same time as Michael, and it happened that as each took a different route, they did not meet in their way, and Michael, upon his return, found the piazza in their possession. The contest was now for the palace, and joining in the fight, he soon vanquished them, drove part of them out of the city, and compelled the rest to throw down their arms and escape or conceal themselves, as well as they could. Having thus gained the victory, the tumults were composed, solely by the talents of the Gonfalonier, who in courage, prudence, and generosity surpassed every other citizen of his time, and deserves to be enumerated among the glorious few who have greatly benefited their country; for had he possessed either malice or ambition, the republic would have been completely ruined, and the city must have fallen under greater tyranny than that of the duke of Athens. But his goodness never allowed a thought to enter his mind opposed to the universal welfare: his prudence enabled him to conduct affairs in such a manner, that a great majority of his own faction reposed the most entire confidence in him; and he kept the rest in awe by the influence of his authority. These qualities subdued the plebeians, and opened the eyes of the superior artificers, who considered how great must be the folly of those, who having overcome the pride of the nobility, could endure to submit to the nauseous rule of the rabble.

CHAPTER V

New regulations for the elections of the Signory — Confusion in the City — Piero degli Albizzi and other citizens condemned to death — The Florentines alarmed by the approach of Charles of Durazzo — The measures adopted in consequence thereof — Insolent Conduct of Giorgio Scali — Benedetto Alberti — Giorgio Scali beheaded.

By the time Michael di Lando had subdued the plebeians, the new Signory was drawn, and among those who composed it, were two persons of such base and mean condition, that the desire increased in the minds of the people to be freed from the ignominy into which they had fallen; and when, upon the first of September, the new Signory entered office and the retiring members were still in the palace, the piazza being full of armed men, a tumultuous cry arose from the midst of them, that none of the lowest of the people should hold office among the Signory. The obnoxious two were withdrawn accordingly. The name of one was Il Tira, of the other Baroccio, and in their stead were elected Giorgio Scali and Francesco di Michele. The company of the lowest trade was also dissolved, and its members deprived of office, except Michael di Lando, Lorenzo di Puccio and a few others of better quality. The honors of government were divided into two parts, one of which was assigned to the superior trades, the other to the inferior; except that the latter were to furnish five Signors, and the former only four. The Gonfalonier was to be chosen alternately from each.

The government thus composed, restored peace to the city for the time; but though the republic was rescued from the power of the lowest plebeians, the inferior trades were still more influential than the nobles of the people, who, however, were obliged to submit for the gratification of the trades, of whose favor they wished to deprive the plebeians. The new establishment was supported by all who wished the continued subjugation of those who, under the name of the Guelphic party, had practiced such excessive violence against the citizens. And as among others, thus disposed, were Giorgio Scali, Benedetto Alberti, Salvestro di Medici, and Tommaso Strozzi, these four almost became princes of the city. This state of the public mind strengthened the divisions already commenced between the nobles of the people, and the minor artificers, by the ambition of the Ricci and the Albizzi; from which, as at different times very serious effects arose, and as they will hereafter be frequently mentioned, we shall call the former the popular party, the latter the plebeian. This condition of things continued three years, during which many were exiled and put to death; for the government lived in constant apprehension, knowing that both within and without the city many were dissatisfied with them. Those within, either attempted or were suspected of attempting every day some new project against them; and those without, being under no restraint, were continually, by means of some prince or republic, spreading reports tending to increase the disaffection.

Gianozzo da Salerno was at this time in Bologna. He held a command under Charles of Durazzo, a descendant of the kings of Naples, who, designing to undertake the conquest of the dominions of Queen Giovanna, retained his captain in that city, with the concurrence of Pope Urban, who was at enmity with the queen. Many Florentine emigrants were also at Bologna, in close correspondence with him and Charles. This caused the rulers in Florence to live in continual alarm, and induced them to lend a willing ear to any calumnies against the suspected. While in this disturbed state of feeling, it was disclosed to the government that Gianozzo da Salerno was about to march to Florence with the emigrants, and that great numbers of those within were to rise in arms, and deliver the city to him. Upon this information many were accused, the principal of whom were Piero degli Albizzi and Carlo Strozzi: and after these Cipriano Mangione, Jacopo Sacchetti, Donato Barbadori, Filippo Strozzi, and Giovanni Anselmi, the whole of whom, except Carlo Strozzi who fled, were made prisoners; and the Signory, to prevent any one from taking arms in their favor, appointed Tommaso Strozzi and Benedetto Alberti with a strong armed force, to guard the city. The arrested citizens were examined, and although nothing was elicited against them sufficient to induce the Capitano to find them guilty, their enemies excited the minds of the populace to such a degree of outrageous and overwhelming fury against them, that they were condemned to death, as it were, by force. Nor was the greatness of his family, or his former reputation of any service to Piero degli Albizzi, who had once been, of all the citizens, the man most feared and honored. Some one, either as a friend to render him wise in his prosperity, or an enemy to threaten him with the fickleness of fortune, had upon the occasion of his making a feast for many citizens, sent him a silver bowl full of sweetmeats, among which a large nail was found, and being seen by many present, was taken for a hint to him to fix the wheel of fortune, which, having conveyed him to the top, must if the rotation continued, also bring him to the bottom. This interpretation was verified, first by his ruin, and afterward by his death.

After this execution the city was full of consternation, for both victors and vanquished were alike in fear; but the worst effects arose from the apprehensions of those possessing the management of affairs; for every accident, however trivial, caused them to commit fresh outrages, either by condemnations, admonitions, or banishment of citizens; to which must be added, as scarcely less pernicious, the frequent new laws and regulations which were made for defense of the government, all of which were put in execution to the injury of those opposed to their faction. They appointed forty-six persons, who, with the Signory, were to purge the republic of all suspected by the government. They admonished thirty-nine citizens, ennobled many of the people, and degraded many nobles to the popular rank. To strengthen themselves against external foes, they took into their pay John Hawkwood, an Englishman of great military reputation, who had long served the pope and others in Italy. Their fears from without were increased by a report that several bodies of men were being assembled by Charles of Durazzo for the conquest of Naples, and many Florentine emigrants were said to have joined him. Against these dangers, in addition to the forces which had been raised, large sums of money were provided; and Charles, having arrived at Arezzo, obtained from the Florentines 40,000 ducats, and promised he would not molest them. His enterprise was immediately prosecuted, and having occupied the kingdom of Naples, he sent Queen Giovanna a prisoner into Hungary. This victory renewed the fears of those who managed the affairs of Florence, for they could not persuade themselves that their money would have a greater influence on the king’s mind than the friendship which his house had long retained for the Guelphs, whom they so grievously oppressed.

This suspicion increasing, multiplied oppressions; which again, instead of diminishing the suspicion, augmented it; so that most men lived in the utmost discontent. To this the insolence of Giorgio Scali and Tommaso Strozzi (who by their popular influence overawed the magistrates) also contributed, for the rulers were apprehensive that by the power these men possessed with the plebeians they could set them at defiance; and hence it is evident that not only to good men, but even to the seditious, this government appeared tyrannical and violent. To put a period to the outrageous conduct of Giorgio, it happened that a servant of his accused Giovanni di Cambio of practices against the state, but the Capitano declared him innocent. Upon this, the judge determined to punish the accuser with the same penalties that the accused would have incurred had he been guilty, but Giorgio Scali, unable to save him either by his authority or entreaties, obtained the assistance of Tommaso Strozzi, and with a multitude of armed men, set the informer at liberty and plundered the palace of the Capitano, who was obliged to save himself by flight. This act excited such great and universal animosity against him, that his enemies began to hope they would be able to effect his ruin, and also to rescue the city from the power of the plebeians, who for three years had held her under their arrogant control.

To the realization of this design the Capitano greatly contributed, for the tumult having subsided, he presented himself before the signors, and said “He had cheerfully undertaken the office to which they had appointed him, for he thought he should serve upright men who would take arms for the defense of justice, and not impede its progress. But now that he had seen and had experience of the proceedings of the city, and the manner in which affairs were conducted, that dignity which he had voluntarily assumed with the hope of acquiring honor and emolument, he now more willingly resigned, to escape from the losses and danger to which he found himself exposed.” The complaint of the Capitano was heard with the utmost attention by the Signory, who promising to remunerate him for the injury he had suffered and provide for his future security, he was satisfied. Some of them then obtained an interview with certain citizens who were thought to be lovers of the common good, and least suspected by the state; and in conjunction with these, it was concluded that the present was a favorable opportunity for rescuing the city from Giorgio and the plebeians, the last outrage he had committed having completely alienated the great body of the people from him. They judged it best to profit by the occasion before the excitement had abated, for they knew that the favor of the mob is often gained or lost by the most trifling circumstance; and more certainly to insure success, they determined, if possible, to obtain the concurrence of Benedetto Alberti, for without it they considered their enterprise to be dangerous.

Benedetto was one of the richest citizens, a man of unassuming manners, an ardent lover of the liberties of his country, and one to whom tyrannical measures were in the highest degree offensive; so that he was easily induced to concur in their views and consent to Giorgio’s ruin. His enmity against the nobles of the people and the Guelphs, and his friendship for the plebeians, were caused by the insolence and tyrannical proceedings of the former; but finding that the plebeians had soon become quite as insolent, he quickly separated himself from them; and the injuries committed by them against the citizens were done wholly without his consent. So that the same motives which made him join the plebeians induced him to leave them.

Having gained Benedetto and the leaders of the trades to their side, they provided themselves with arms and made Giorgio prisoner. Tommaso fled. The next day Giorgio was beheaded; which struck so great a terror into his party, that none ventured to express the slightest disapprobation, but each seemed anxious to be foremost in defense of the measure. On being led to execution, in the presence of that people who only a short time before had idolized him, Giorgio complained of his hard fortune, and the malignity of those citizens who, having done him an undeserved injury, had compelled him to honor and support a mob, possessing neither faith nor gratitude. Observing Benedetto Alberti among those who had armed themselves for the preservation of order, he said, “Do you, too, consent, Benedetto, that this injury shall be done to me? Were I in your place and you in mine, I would take care that no one should injure you. I tell you, however, this day is the end of my troubles and the beginning of yours.” He then blamed himself for having confided too much in a people who may be excited and inflamed by every word, motion, and breath of suspicion. With these complaints he died in the midst of his armed enemies, delighted at his fall. Some of his most intimate associates were also put to death, and their bodies dragged about by the mob.

CHAPTER VI

Confusion and riots in the city — Reform of government in opposition to the plebeians — Injuries done to those who favored the plebeians — Michael di Lando banished — Benedetto Alberti hated by the Signory — Fears excited by the coming of Louis of Anjou — The Florentines purchase Arezzo — Benedetto Alberti becomes suspected and is banished — His discourse upon leaving the city — Other citizens banished and admonished — War with Giovanni Galeazzo, duke of Milan.

The death of Giorgio caused very great excitement; many took arms at the execution in favor of the Signory and the Capitano; and many others, either for ambition or as a means for their own safety, did the same. The city was full of conflicting parties, who each had a particular end in view, and wished to carry it into effect before they disarmed. The ancient nobility, called the GREAT, could not bear to be deprived of public honors; for the recovery of which they used their utmost exertions, and earnestly desired that authority might be restored to the Capitani di Parte. The nobles of the people and the major trades were discontented at the share the minor trades and lowest of the people possessed in the government; while the minor trades were desirous of increasing their influence, and the lowest people were apprehensive of losing the companies of their trades and the authority which these conferred.

Such opposing views occasioned Florence, during a year, to be disturbed by many riots. Sometimes the nobles of the people took arms; sometimes the major and sometimes the minor trades and the lowest of the people; and it often happened that, though in different parts, all were at once in insurrection. Hence many conflicts took place between the different parties or with the forces of the palace; for the Signory sometimes yielding, and at other times resisting, adopted such remedies as they could for these numerous evils. At length, after two assemblies of the people, and many Balias appointed for the reformation of the city; after much toil, labor, and imminent danger, a government was appointed, by which all who had been banished since Salvestro de’ Medici was Gonfalonier were restored. They who had acquired distinctions or emoluments by the Balia of 1378 were deprived of them. The honors of government were restored to the Guelphic party; the two new Companies of the Trades were dissolved, and all who had been subject to them assigned to their former companies. The minor trades were not allowed to elect the Gonfalonier of Justice, their share of honors was reduced from a half to a third; and those of the highest rank were withdrawn from them altogether. Thus the nobles of the people and the Guelphs repossessed themselves of the government, which was lost by the plebeians after it had been in their possession from 1378 to 1381, when these changes took place.

The new establishment was not less injurious to the citizens, or less troublesome at its commencement than that of the plebeians had been; for many of the nobles of the people, who had distinguished themselves as defenders of the plebeians, were banished, with a great number of the leaders of the latter, among whom was Michael di Lando; nor could all the benefits conferred upon the city by his authority, when in danger from the lawless mob, save him from the rabid fury of the party that was now in power. His good offices evidently excited little gratitude in his countrymen. The neglect of their benefactors is an error into which princes and republics frequently fall; and hence mankind, alarmed by such examples, as soon as they begin to perceive the ingratitude of their rulers, set themselves against them.

As these banishments and executions had always been offensive to Benedetto Alberti, they continued to disgust him, and he censured them both publicly and privately. The leaders of the government began to fear him, for they considered him one of the most earnest friends of the plebeians, and thought he had not consented to the death of Giorgio Scali from disapprobation of his proceeding, but that he might be left himself without a rival in the government. His discourse and his conduct alike served to increase their suspicions, so that all the ruling party had their eyes upon him, and eagerly sought an opportunity of crushing him.

During this state of things, external affairs were not of serious importance, for some which ensued were productive of apprehension rather than of injury. At this time Louis of Anjou came into Italy, to recover the kingdom of Naples for Queen Giovanna, and drive out Charles of Durazzo. His coming terrified the Florentines; for Charles, according to the custom of old friends, demanded their assistance, and Louis, like those who seek new alliances, required their neutrality. The Florentines, that they might seem to comply with the request of Louis, and at the same time assist Charles, discharged from their service Sir John Hawkwood, and transferred him to that of Pope Urban, who was friendly to Charles; but this deceit was at once detected, and Louis considered himself greatly injured by the Florentines. While the war was carried on between Louis and Charles in Puglia, new forces were sent from France in aid of Louis, and on arriving in Tuscany, were by the emigrants of Arezzo conducted to that city, and took it from those who held possession for Charles. And when they were about to change the government of Florence, as they had already done that of Arezzo, Louis died, and the order of things in Puglia and in Tuscany was changed accordingly; for Charles secured the kingdom, which had been all but lost, and the Florentines, who were apprehensive for their own city, purchased Arezzo from those who held it for Louis. Charles, having secured Puglia, went to take possession of Hungary, to which he was heir, leaving, with his wife, his children Ladislaus and Giovanna, who were yet infants. He took possession of Hungary, but was soon after slain there.

As great rejoicings were made in Florence on account of this acquisition as ever took place in any city for a real victory, which served to exhibit the public and private wealth of the people, many families endeavoring to vie with the state itself in displays of magnificence. The Alberti surpassed all others; the tournaments and exhibitions made by them were rather suitable for a sovereign prince than for any private individuals. These things increased the envy with which the family was regarded, and being joined with suspicions which the state entertained of Benedetto, were the causes of his ruin. The rulers could not endure him, for it appeared as if, at any moment, something might occur, which, with the favor of his friends, would enable him to recover his authority, and drive them out of the city. While in this state of suspicion and jealousy, it happened that while he was Gonfalonier of the Companies, his son-in-law, Filippo Magalotti, was drawn Gonfalonier of Justice; and this circumstance increased the fears of the government, for they thought it would strengthen Benedetto’s influence, and place the state in the greater peril. Anxious to provide a remedy, without creating much disturbance, they induced Bese Magalotti, his relative and enemy, to signify to the Signory that Filippo, not having attained the age required for the exercise of that office, neither could nor ought to hold it.

The question was examined by the signors, and part of them out of hatred, others in order to avoid disunion among themselves, declared Filippo ineligible to the dignity, and in his stead was drawn Bardo Mancini, who was quite opposed to the plebeian interests, and an inveterate foe of Benedetto. This man, having entered upon the duties of his office, created a Balia for the reformation of the state, which banished Benedetto Alberti and admonished all the rest of his family except Antonio. Before his departure, Benedetto called them together, and observing their melancholy demeanor, said, “You see, my fathers, and you the elders of our house, how fortune has ruined me and threatened you. I am not surprised at this, neither ought you to be so, for it always happens thus to those who among a multitude of the wicked, wish to act rightly, and endeavor to sustain, what the many seek to destroy. The love of my country made me take part with Salvestro de Medici and afterward separated me from Giorgio Scali. The same cause compelled me to detest those who now govern, who having none to punish them, will allow no one to reprove their misdeeds. I am content that my banishment should deliver them from the fears they entertain, not of me only, but of all who they think perceives or is acquainted wit their tyrannical and wicked proceedings; and they have aimed their first blow at me, in order the more easily to oppress you. I do not grieve on my own account; for those honors which my country bestowed upon me while free, she cannot in her slavery take from me; and the recollection of my past life will always give me greater pleasure than the pain imparted by the sorrows of exile. I deeply regret that my country is left a prey to the greediness and pride of the few who keep her in subjection. I grieve for you; for I fear that the evils which this day cease to affect me, and commence with you, will pursue you with even greater malevolence than they have me. Comfort, then, each other; resolve to bear up against every misfortune, and conduct yourselves in such a manner, that when disasters befall you (and there will be many), every one may know they have come upon you undeservedly.” Not to give a worse impression of his virtue abroad than he had done at home, he made a journey to the sepulcher of Christ, and while upon his return, died at Rhodes. His remains were brought to Florence, and interred with all possible honors, by those who had persecuted him, when alive, with every species of calumny and injustice.

The family of the Alberti was not the only injured party during these troubles of the city; for many others were banished and admonished. Of the former were Piero Benini, Matteo Alderotti, Giovanni and Francesco del Bene, Giovanni Benci, Andrea Adimari, and with them many members of the minor trades. Of the admonished were the Covini, Benini, Rinucci, Formiconi, Corbizzi, Manelli, and Alderotti. It was customary to create the Balia for a limited time; and when the citizens elected had effected the purpose of their appointment, they resigned the office from motives of good feeling and decency, although the time allowed might not have expired. In conformity with this laudable practice, the Balia of that period, supposing they had accomplished all that was expected of them, wished to retire; but when the multitude were acquainted with their intention, they ran armed to the palace, and insisted, that before resigning their power, many other persons should be banished and admonished. This greatly displeased the signors; but without disclosing the extent of their displeasure, they contrived to amuse the multitude with promises, till they had assembled a sufficient body of armed men, and then took such measures, that fear induced the people to lay aside the weapons which madness had led them to take up. Nevertheless, in some degree to gratify the fury of the mob, and to reduce the authority of the plebeian trades, it was provided, that as the latter had previously possessed a third of the honors, they should in future have only a fourth. That there might always be two of the signors particularly devoted to the government, they gave authority to the Gonfalonier of Justice, and four others, to form a ballot-purse of select citizens, from which, in every Signory, two should be drawn.

This government from its establishment in 1381, till the alterations now made, had continued six years; and the internal peace of the city remained undisturbed until 1393. During this time, Giovanni Galeazzo Visconti, usually called the Count of Virtú, imprisoned his uncle Bernabo, and thus became sovereign of the whole of Lombardy. As he had become duke of Milan by fraud, he designed to make himself king of Italy by force. In 1391 he commenced a spirited attack upon the Florentines; but such various changes occurred in the course of the war, that he was frequently in greater danger than the Florentines themselves, who, though they made a brave and admirable defense, for a republic, must have been ruined, if he had survived. As it was, the result was attended with infinitely less evil than their fears of so powerful an enemy had led them to apprehend; for the duke having taken Bologna, Pisa, Perugia, and Sienna, and prepared a diadem with which to be crowned king of Italy at Florence, died before he had tasted the fruit of his victories, or the Florentines began to feel the effect of their disasters.

CHAPTER VII

Maso degli Albizzi — His violence excites the anger of the people — They have recourse to Veri de’ Medici — The modesty of Veri — He refuses to assume the dignity of prince, and appeases the people — Discourse of Veri to the Signory — The banished Florentines endeavor to return — They secretly enter the city and raise a tumult — Some of them slain, others taken to the church of St. Reparata — A conspiracy of exiles supported by the duke of Milan — The conspiracy discovered and the parties punished — Various enterprises of the Florentines — Taking of Pisa — War with the king of Naples — Acquisition of Cortona.

During the war with the duke of Milan the office of Gonfalonier of Justice fell to Maso degli Albizzi, who by the death of Piero in 1379, had become the inveterate enemy of the Alberti: and as party feeling is incapable either of repose or abatement, he determined, notwithstanding Benedetto had died in exile, that before the expiration of his magistracy, he would revenge himself on the remainder of that family. He seized the opportunity afforded by a person, who on being examined respecting correspondence maintained with the rebels, accused Andrea and Alberto degli Alberti of such practices. They were immediately arrested, which so greatly excited the people, that the Signory, having provided themselves with an armed force, called the citizens to a general assembly or parliament, and appointed a Balia, by whose authority many were banished, and a new ballot for the offices of government was made. Among the banished were nearly all the Alberti; many members of the trades were admonished, and some put to death. Stung by these numerous injuries, the trades and the lowest of the people rose in arms, considering themselves despoiled both of honor and life. One body of them assembled in the piazza; another ran to the house of Veri de’ Medici, who, after the death of Salvestro, was head of the family. The Signory, in order to appease those who came to the piazza or court of the palace, gave them for leaders, with the ensigns of the Guelphs and of the people in their hands, Rinaldo Gianfigliazzi, and Donato Acciajuoli, both men of the popular class, and more attached to the interests of the plebeians than any other. Those who went to the house of Veri de’ Medici, begged that he would be pleased to undertake the government, and free them from the tyranny of those citizens who were destroying the peace and safety of the commonwealth.

It is agreed by all who have written concerning the events of this period, that if Veri had had more ambition than integrity he might without any impediment have become prince of the city; for the unfeeling treatment which, whether right or wrong, had been inflicted upon the trades and their friends, had so excited the minds of men to vengeance, that all they required was some one to be their leader. Nor were there wanting those who could inform him of the state of public feeling; for Antonio de’ Medici with whom he had for some time been upon terms of most intimate friendship, endeavored to persuade him to undertake the government of the republic. To this Veri replied: “Thy menaces when thou wert my enemy, never alarmed me; nor shall thy counsel, now when thou art my friend, do me any harm.” Then, turning toward the multitude, he bade them be of good cheer; for he would be their defender, if they would allow themselves to be advised by him. He then went, accompanied by a great number of citizens, to the piazza, and proceeded directly to the audience chamber of the Signory, whom he addressed to this effect: That he could not regret having lived so as to gain the love of the Florentines; but he was sorry they had formed an opinion of him which his past life had not warranted; for never having done anything that could be construed as either factious or ambitious, he could not imagine how it had happened, that they should think him willing to stir up strife as a discontented person, or usurp the government of his country like an ambitious one. He therefore begged that the infatuation of the multitude might not injure him in their estimation; for, to the utmost of his power, their authority should be restored. He then recommended them to use good fortune with moderation; for it would be much better to enjoy an imperfect victory with safety to the city, than a complete one at her ruin. The Signory applauded Veri’s conduct; begged he would endeavor to prevent recourse to arms, and promised that what he and the other citizens might deem most advisable should be done. Veri then returned to the piazza, where the people who had followed him were joined by those led by Donato and Rinaldo, and informed the united companies that he had found the Signory most kindly disposed toward them; that many things had been taken into consideration, which the shortness of time, and the absence of the magistrates, rendered incapable of being finished. He therefore begged they would lay down their arms and obey the Signory; assuring them that humility would prevail rather than pride, entreaties rather than threats; and if they would take his advice, their privileges and security would remain unimpaired. He thus induced them to return peaceably to their homes.

The disturbance having subsided, the Signory armed the piazza, enrolled 2,000 of the most trusty citizens, who were divided equally by Gonfalons, and ordered to be in readiness to give their assistance whenever required; and they forbade the use of arms to all who were not thus enrolled. Having adopted these precautionary measures, they banished and put to death many of those members of the trades who had shown the greatest audacity in the late riots; and to invest the office of Gonfalonier of Justice with more authoritative majesty, they ordered that no one should be eligible to it, under forty-five years of age. Many other provisions for the defense of the state were made, which appeared intolerable to those against whom they were directed, and were odious even to the friends of the Signory themselves, for they could not believe a government to be either good or secure, which needed so much violence for its defense, a violence excessively offensive, not only to those of the Alberti who remained in the city, and to the Medici, who felt themselves injured by these proceedings, but also to many others. The first who attempted resistance was Donato, the son of Jacopo Acciajuoli, who thought of great authority, and the superior rather than the equal of Maso degli Albizzi (who on account of the events which took place while he was Gonfalonier of Justice, was almost at the head of the republic), could not enjoy repose amid such general discontent, or, like many others, convert social evils to his own private advantage, and therefore resolved to attempt the restoration of the exiles to their country, or at least their offices to the admonished. He went from one to another, disseminating his views, showing that the people would not be satisfied, or the ferment of parties subside, without the changes he proposed; and declared that if he were in the Signory, he would soon carry them into effect. In human affairs, delay causes tedium, and haste danger. To avoid what was tedious, Donato Acciajuoli resolved to attempt what involved danger. Michele Acciajuoli his relative, and Niccolo Ricoveri his friend, were of the Signory. This seemed to Donato a conjuncture of circumstances too favorable to be lost, and he requested they would propose a law to the councils, which would include the restoration of the citizens. They, at his entreaty, spoke about the matter to their associates, who replied, that it was improper to attempt any innovation in which the advantage was doubtful and the danger certain. Upon this, Donato, having in vain tried all other means he could think of, excited with anger, gave them to understand that since they would not allow the city to be governed with peaceful measures, he would try what could be done with arms. These words gave so great offense, that being communicated to the heads of the government, Donato was summoned, and having appeared, the truth was proven by those to whom he had intrusted the message, and he was banished to Barletta. Alamanno and Antonio de’ Medici were also banished, and all those of that family, who were descended from Alamanno, with many who, although of the inferior artificers, possessed influence with the plebeians. These events took place two years after the reform of government effected by Maso degli Albizzi.

At this time many discontented citizens were at home, and others banished in the adjoining states. Of the latter there lived at Bologna Picchio Cavicciulli, Tommaso de’ Ricci, Antonio de’ Medici, Benedetto degli Spini, Antonio Girolami, Cristofano di Carlone, and two others of the lowest order, all bold young men, and resolved upon returning to their country at any hazard. These were secretly told by Piggiello and Baroccio Cavicciulli, who, being admonished, lived in Florence, that if they came to the city they should be concealed in their house; from which they might afterward issue, slay Maso degli Albizzi, and call the people to arms, who, full of discontent, would willingly arise, particularly as they would be supported by the Ricci, Adimari, Medici, Manelli, and many other families. Excited with these hopes, on the fourth of August, 1397, they came to Florence, and having entered unobserved according to their arrangement, they sent one of their party to watch Maso, designing with his death to raise the people. Maso was observed to leave his house and proceed to that of an apothecary, near the church of San Pietro Maggiore, which he entered. The man who went to watch him ran to give information to the other conspirators, who took their arms and hastened to the house of the apothecary, but found that Maso had gone. However, undaunted with the failure of their first attempt, they proceeded to the Old Market, where they slew one of the adverse party, and with loud cries of “people, arms, liberty, and death to the tyrants,” directed their course toward the New Market, and at the end of the Calimala slew another. Pursuing their course with the same cries, and finding no one join them in arms, they stopped at the Loggia Nighittosa, where, from an elevated situation, being surrounded with a great multitude, assembled to look on rather than assist them, they exhorted the men to take arms and deliver themselves from the slavery which weighed so heavily upon them; declaring that the complaints of the discontented in the city, rather than their own grievances, had induced them to attempt their deliverance. They had heard that many prayed to God for an opportunity of avenging themselves, and vowed they would use it whenever they found anyone to conduct them; but now, when the favorable circumstances occurred, and they found those who were ready to lead them, they stared at each other like men stupefied, and would wait till those who were endeavoring to recover for them their liberty were slain, and their own chains more strongly riveted upon them; they wondered that those who were wont to take arms upon slight occasions, remained unmoved under the pressure of so many and so great evils; and that they could willingly suffer such numbers of their fellow-citizens to be banished, so many admonished, when it was in their power to restore the banished to their country, and the admonished to the honors of the state. These words, although full of truth, produced no effect upon those to whom they were addressed; for they were either restrained by their fears, or, on account of the two murders which had been committed, disgusted with the parties. Thus the movers of the tumult, finding that neither words or deeds had force sufficient to stir anyone, saw, when too late, how dangerous a thing it is to attempt to set a people free who are resolved to be slaves; and, despairing of success, they withdrew to the temple of Santa Reparata, where, not to save their lives, but to defer the moment of their deaths, they shut themselves up. Upon the first rumor of the affair, the Signory being in fear, armed and secured the palace; but when the facts of the case were understood, the parties known, and whither they had betaken themselves, their fears subsided, and they sent the Capitano with a sufficient body of armed men to secure them. The gates of the temple were forced without much trouble; part of the conspirators were slain defending themselves; the remainder were made prisoners and examined, but none were found implicated in the affair except Baroccio and Piggiello Cavicciulli, who were put to death with them.

Shortly after this event, another occurred of greater importance. The Florentines were, as we have before remarked, at war with the duke of Milan, who, finding that with merely open force he could not overcome them, had recourse to secret practices, and with the assistance of the exiles of whom Lombardy was full, he formed a plot to which many in the city were accessory. It was resolved by the conspirators that most of the emigrants, capable of bearing arms, should set out from the places nearest Florence, enter the city by the river Arno, and with their friends hasten to the residences of the chiefs of the government; and having slain them, reform the republic according to their own will. Of the conspirators within the city, was one of the Ricci named Samminiato; and as it often happens in treacherous practices, few are insufficient to effect the purpose of the plot, and among many secrecy cannot be preserved, so while Samminiato was in quest of associates, he found an accuser. He confided the affair to Salvestro Cavicciulli, whose wrongs and those of his friends were thought sufficient to make him faithful; but he, more influenced by immediate fear than the hope of future vengeance, discovered the whole affair to the Signory, who, having caused Samminiato to be taken, compelled him to tell all the particulars of the matter. However, none of the conspirators were taken, except Tommaso Davizi, who, coming from Bologna, and unaware of what had occurred at Florence, was seized immediately upon his arrival. All the others had fled immediately upon the apprehension of Samminiato.

Samminiato and Tommaso having been punished according to their deserts, a Balia was formed of many citizens, which sought the delinquents, and took measures for the security of the state. They declared six of the family of the Ricci rebels; also, six of the Alberti; two of the Medici; three of the Scali; two of the Strozzi; Bindo Altoviti, Bernado Adimari, and many others of inferior quality. They admonished all the family of the Alberti, the Ricci, and the Medici for ten years, except a few individuals. Among the Alberti, not admonished, was Antonio, who was thought to be quiet and peaceable. It happened, however, before all suspicion of the conspiracy had ceased, a monk was taken who had been observed during its progress to pass frequently between Bologna and Florence. He confessed that he had often carried letters to Antonio, who was immediately seized, and, though he denied all knowledge of the matter from the first, the monk’s accusation prevailed, and he was fined in a considerable sum of money, and banished a distance of three hundred miles from Florence. That the Alberti might not constantly place the city in jeopardy, every member of the family was banished whose age exceeded fifteen years.

These events took place in the year 1400, and two years afterward, died Giovanni Galeazzo, duke of Milan, whose death as we have said above, put an end to the war, which had then continued twelve years. At this time, the government having gained greater strength, and being without enemies external or internal, undertook the conquest of Pisa, and having gloriously completed it, the peace of the city remained undisturbed from 1400 to 1433, except that in 1412, the Alberti, having crossed the boundary they were forbidden to pass, a Balia was formed which with new provisions fortified the state and punished the offenders with heavy fines. During this period also, the Florentines made war with Ladislaus, king of Naples, who finding himself in great danger ceded to them the city of Cortona of which he was master; but soon afterward, recovering his power, he renewed the war, which became far more disastrous to the Florentines than before; and had it not, in 1414, been terminated by his death, as that of Lombardy had been by the death of the duke of Milan, he, like the duke, would have brought Florence into great danger of losing her liberty. Nor was the war with the king concluded with less good fortune than the former; for when he had taken Rome, Sienna, the whole of La Marca and Romagna, and had only Florence itself to vanquish, he died. Thus death has always been more favorable to the Florentines than any other friend, and more potent to save them than their own valor. From the time of the king’s decease, peace was preserved both at home and abroad for eight years, at the end of which, with the wars of Filippo, duke of Milan, the spirit of faction again broke out, and was only appeased by the ruin of that government which continued from 1381 to 1434, had conducted with great glory so many enterprises; acquired Arezzo, Pisa, Cortona, Leghorn, and Monte Pulciano; and would have accomplished more if the citizens had lived in unity, and had not revived former factions; as in the following book will be particularly shown.

BOOK IV

CHAPTER I

License and Slavery peculiar defects in republican governments — Application of this reflection to the state of Florence — Giovanni di Bicci di’ Medici re-establishes the authority of his family — Filippo Visconti, duke of Milan, endeavors to make amicable arrangements with the Florentines — Their jealousy of him — Precautionary measures against him — War declared — The Florentines are routed by the ducal forces.

Republican governments, more especially those imperfectly organized, frequently change their rulers and the form of their institutions; not by the influence of liberty or subjection, as many suppose, but by that of slavery and license; for with the nobility or the people, the ministers respectively of slavery or licentiousness, only the name of liberty is in any estimation, neither of them choosing to be subject either to magistrates or laws. When, however, a good, wise, and powerful citizen appears (which is but seldom), who establishes ordinances capable of appeasing or restraining these contending dispositions, so as to prevent them from doing mischief, then the government may be called free, and its institutions firm and secure; for having good laws for its basis, and good regulations for carrying them into effect, it needs not, like others, the virtue of one man for its maintenance. With such excellent laws and institutions, many of those ancient republics, which were of long duration, were endowed. But these advantages are, and always have been, denied to those which frequently change from tyranny to license, or the reverse; because, from the powerful enemies which each condition creates itself, they neither have, nor can possess any stability; for tyranny cannot please the good, and license is offensive to the wise: the former may easily be productive of mischief, while the latter can scarcely be beneficial; in the former, the insolent have too much authority, and in the latter, the foolish; so that each requires for their welfare the virtue and the good fortune of some individual who may be removed by death, or become unserviceable by misfortune.

Hence, it appears, that the government which commenced in Florence at the death of Giorgio Scali, in 1381, was first sustained by the talents of Maso degli Albizzi, and then by those of Niccolo da Uzzano. The city remained tranquil from 1414 to 1422; for King Ladislaus was dead, and Lombardy divided into several parts; so that there was nothing either internal or external to occasion uneasiness. Next to Niccolo da Uzzano in authority, were Bartolomeo Valori, Neroni di Nigi, Rinaldo degli Albizzi, Neri di Gino, and Lapo Niccolini. The factions that arose from the quarrels of the Albizzi and the Ricci, and which were afterward so unhappily revived by Salvestro de’ Medici, were never extinguished; for though the party most favored by the rabble only continued three years, and in 1381 was put down, still, as it comprehended the greatest numerical proportion, it was never entirely extinct, though the frequent Balias and persecutions of its leaders from 1381 to 1400, reduced it almost to nothing. The first families that suffered in this way were the Alberti, the Ricci, and the Medici, which were frequently deprived both of men and money; and if any of them remained in the city, they were deprived of the honors of government. These oft-repeated acts of oppression humiliated the faction, and almost annihilated it. Still, many retained the remembrance of the injuries they had received, and a desire of vengeance remained pent in their bosoms, ungratified and unquenched. Those nobles of the people, or new nobility, who peaceably governed the city, committed two errors, which eventually caused the ruin of their party; the first was, that by long continuance in power they became insolent; the second, that the envy they entertained toward each other, and their uninterrupted possession of power, destroyed that vigilance over those who might injure them, which they ought to have exercised. Thus daily renewing the hatred of a mass of the people by their sinister proceedings, and either negligent of the threatened dangers, because rendered fearless by prosperity, or encouraging them through mutual envy, they gave an opportunity to the family of the Medici to recover their influence. The first to do so was Giovanni di Bicci de’ Medici, who having become one of the richest men, and being of a humane and benevolent disposition, obtained the supreme magistracy by the consent of those in power. This circumstance gave so much gratification to the mass of the people (the multitude thinking they had now found a defender), that not without occasion the judicious of the party observed it with jealousy, for they perceived all the former feelings of the city revived. Niccolo da Uzzano did not fail to acquaint the other citizens with the matter, explaining to them how dangerous it was to aggrandize one who possessed so much influence; that it was easy to remedy an evil at its commencement, but exceedingly difficult after having allowed it to gather strength; and that Giovanni possessed several qualities far surpassing those of Salvestro. The associates of Niccolo were uninfluenced by his remarks; for they were jealous of his reputation, and desired to exalt some person, by means of whom he might be humbled.

This was the state of Florence, in which opposing feelings began to be observable, when Filippo Visconti, second son of Giovanni Galeazzo, having, by the death of his brother, become master of all Lombardy, and thinking he might undertake almost anything, greatly desired to recover Genoa, which enjoyed freedom under the Dogiate of Tommaso da Campo Fregoso. He did not think it advisable to attempt this, or any other enterprise, till he had renewed amicable relations with the Florentines, and made his good understanding with them known; but with the aid of their reputation he trusted he should attain his wishes. He therefore sent ambassadors to Florence to signify his desires. Many citizens were opposed to his design, but did not wish to interrupt the peace with Milan, which had now continued for many years. They were fully aware of the advantages he would derive from a war with Genoa, and the little use it would be to Florence. Many others were inclined to accede to it, but would set a limit to his proceedings, which, if he were to exceed, all would perceive his base design, and thus they might, when the treaty was broken, more justifiably make war against him. The question having been strongly debated, an amicable arrangement was at length effected, by which Filippo engaged not to interfere with anything on the Florentine side of the rivers Magra and Panaro.

Soon after the treaty was concluded, the duke took possession of Brescia, and shortly afterward of Genoa, contrary to the expectation of those who had advocated peace; for they thought Brescia would be defended by the Venetians, and Genoa would be able to defend herself. And as in the treaty which Filippo made with the Doge of Genoa, he had acquired Serezana and other places situated on this side the Magra, upon condition that, if he wished to alienate them, they should be given to the Genoese, it was quite palpable that he had broken the treaty; and he had, besides, entered into another treaty with the legate of Bologna, in opposition to his engagement respecting the Panaro. These things disturbed the minds of the citizens, and made them, apprehensive of new troubles, consider the means to be adopted for their defense.

The dissatisfaction of the Florentines coming to the knowledge of Filippo, he, either to justify himself, or to become acquainted with their prevailing feelings, or to lull them to repose, sent ambassadors to the city, to intimate that he was greatly surprised at the suspicions they entertained, and offered to revoke whatever he had done that could be thought a ground of jealousy. This embassy produced no other effect than that of dividing the citizens; one party, that in greatest reputation, judged it best to arm, and prepare to frustrate the enemy’s designs; and if he were to remain quiet, it would not be necessary to go to war with him, but an endeavor might be made to preserve peace. Many others, whether envious of those in power, or fearing a rupture with the duke, considered it unadvisable so lightly to entertain suspicions of an ally, and thought his proceedings need not have excited so much distrust; that appointing the ten and hiring forces was in itself a manifest declaration of war, which, if undertaken against so great a prince, would bring certain ruin upon the city without the hope of any advantage; for possession could never be retained of the conquests that might be made, because Romagna lay between, and the vicinity of the church ought to prevent any attempt against Romagna itself. However the views of those who were in favor of war prevailed, the Council of Ten were appointed, forces were hired, and new taxes levied, which, as they were more burdensome upon the lower than the upper ranks, filled the city with complaints, and all condemned the ambition and avarice of the great, declaring that, to gratify themselves and oppress the people, they would go to war without any justifiable motive.

They had not yet come to an open rupture with the duke, but everything tended to excite suspicion; for Filippo had, at the request of the legate of Bologna (who was in fear of Antonio Bentivogli, an emigrant of Bologna at Castel Bolognese), sent forces to that city, which, being close upon the Florentine territory, filled the citizens with apprehension; but what gave every one greater alarm, and offered sufficient occasion for the declaration of war, was the expedition made by the duke against Furli. Giorgio Ordelaffi was lord of Furli, who dying, left Tibaldo, his son, under the guardianship of Filippo. The boy’s mother, suspicious of his guardian, sent him to Lodovico Alidossi, her father, who was lord of Imola, but she was compelled by the people of Furli to obey the will of her deceased husband, to withdraw him from the natural guardian, and place him in the hands of the duke. Upon this Filippo, the better to conceal his purpose, caused the Marquis of Ferrara to send Guido Torello as his agent, with forces, to seize the government of Furli, and thus the territory fell into the duke’s hands. When this was known at Florence, together with the arrival of forces at Bologna, the arguments in favor of war were greatly strengthened, but there were still many opposed to it, and among the rest Giovanni de’ Medici, who publicly endeavored to show, that even if the ill designs of the duke were perfectly manifest, it would still be better to wait and let him commence the attack, than to assail him; for in the former case they would be justified in the view of the princes of Italy as well as in their own; but if they were to strike the first blow at the duke, public opinion would be as favorable to him as to themselves; and besides, they could not so confidently demand assistance as assailants, as they might do if assailed; and that men always defend themselves more vigorously when they attack others. The advocates of war considered it improper to await the enemy in their houses, and better to go and seek him; that fortune is always more favorable to assailants than to such as merely act on the defensive, and that it is less injurious, even when attended with greater immediate expense, to make war at another’s door than at our own. These views prevailed, and it was resolved that the ten should provide all the means in their power for rescuing Furli from the hands of the duke.

Filippo, finding the Florentines resolved to occupy the places he had undertaken to defend, postponed all personal considerations, and sent Agnolo della Pergola with a strong force against Imola, that Ludovico, having to provide for the defense of his own possessions, might be unable to protect the interests of his grandson. Agnolo approached Imola while the forces of the Florentines were at Modigliana, and an intense frost having rendered the ditches of the city passable, he crossed them during the night, captured the place, and sent Lodovico a prisoner to Milan. The Florentines finding Imola in the hands of the enemy, and the war publicly known, sent their forces to Furli and besieged it on all sides. That the duke’s people might not relieve it, they hired Count Alberigo, who from Zagonara, his own domain, overran the country daily, up to the gates of Imola. Agnolo della Pergola, finding the strong position which the Florentines had taken prevented him from relieving Furli, determined to attempt the capture of Zagonara, thinking they would not allow that place to be lost, and that in the endeavor to relieve it they would be compelled to give up their design against Furli, and come to an engagement under great disadvantage. Thus the duke’s people compelled Alberigo to sue for terms, which he obtained on condition of giving up Zagonara, if the Florentines did not relieve him within fifteen days. This misfortune being known in the Florentine camp and in the city, and all being anxious that the enemy should not obtain the expected advantage, they enabled him to secure a greater; for having abandoned the siege of Furli to go to the relief of Zagonara, on encountering the enemy they were soon routed, not so much by the bravery of their adversaries as by the severity of the season; for, having marched many hours through deep mud and heavy rain, they found the enemy quite fresh, and were therefore easily vanquished. Nevertheless, in this great defeat, famous throughout all Italy, no death occurred except those of Lodovico degli Obizi and two of his people, who having fallen from their horses were drowned in the morass.

CHAPTER II

The Florentines murmur against those who had been advocates of the war — Rinaldo degli Albizzi encourages the citizens — Measures for the prosecution of the war — Attempt of the higher classes to deprive the plebeians of their share in the government — Rinaldo degli Albizzi addresses an assembly of citizens and advises the restoration of the Grandi — Niccolo da Uzzano wishes to have Giovanni de’ Medici on their side — Giovanni disapproves of the advice of Rinaldo degli Albizzi.

The defeat at Zagonara spread consternation throughout Florence; but none felt it so severely as the nobility, who had been in favor of the war; for they perceived their enemies to be inspirited and themselves disarmed, without friends, and opposed by the people, who at the corners of streets insulted them with sarcastic expressions, complaining of the heavy taxes, and the unnecessary war, and saying, “Oh! they appointed the ten to frighten the enemy. Have they relieved Furli, and rescued her from the hands of the duke? No! but their designs have been discovered; and what had they in view? not the defense of liberty; for they do not love her; but to aggrandize their own power, which God has very justly abated. This is not the only enterprise by many a one with which they have oppressed the city; for the war against King Ladislaus was of a similar kind. To whom will they flee for assistance now? to Pope Martin, whom they ridiculed before the face of Braccio; or to Queen Giovanna, whom they abandoned, and compelled to throw herself under the protection of the king of Aragon?” To these reproaches was added all that might be expected from an enraged multitude.

Seeing the discontent so prevalent, the Signory resolved to assemble a few citizens, and with soft words endeavor to soothe the popular irritation. On this occasion, Rinaldo degli Albizzi, the eldest son of Maso, who, by his own talents and the respect he derived from the memory of his father, aspired to the first offices in the government, spoke at great length; showing that it is not right to judge of actions merely by their effects; for it often happens that what has been very maturely considered is attended with unfavorable results: that if we are to applaud evil counsels because they are sometimes followed by fortunate events, we should only encourage men in error which would bring great mischief upon the republic; because evil counsel is not always attended with happy consequences. In the same way, it would be wrong to blame a wise resolution, because if its being attended with an unfavorable issue; for by so doing, we should destroy the inclination of citizens to offer advice and speak the truth. He then showed the propriety of undertaking the war; and that if it had not been commenced by the Florentines in Romagna the duke would have assailed them in Tuscany. But since it had pleased God, that the Florentine people should be overcome, their loss would be still greater if they allowed themselves to be dejected; but if they set a bold front against adversity, and made good use of the means within their power, they would not be sensible of their loss or the duke of his victory. He assured them they ought not to be alarmed by impending expenses and consequent taxation; because the latter might be reduced, and the future expense would not be so great as the former had been; for less preparation is necessary for those engaged in self-defense than for those who design to attack others. He advised them to imitate the conduct of their forefathers, who, by courageous conduct in adverse circumstances, had defended themselves against all their enemies.

Thus encouraged, the citizens engaged Count Oddo the son of Braccio, and united with him, for directing the operations of the war, Niccolo Piccinino, a pupil of his father’s, and one of the most celebrated of all who had served under him. To these they added other leaders, and remounted some of those who had lost their horses in the late defeat. They also appointed twenty citizens to levy new taxes, who finding the great quite subdued by the recent loss, took courage and drained them without mercy.

These burdens were very grievous to the nobility, who at first, in order to conciliate, did not complain of their own particular hardships, but censured the tax generally as unjust, and advised that something should be done in the way of relief; but their advice was rejected in the Councils. Therefore, to render the law as offensive as possible, and to make all sensible of its injustice, they contrived that the taxes should be levied with the utmost rigor, and made it lawful to kill any that might resist the officers employed to collect them. Hence followed many lamentable collisions, attended with the blood and death of citizens. It began to be the impression of all, that arms would be resorted to, and all prudent persons apprehended some approaching evil; for the higher ranks, accustomed to be treated with respect, could not endure to be used like dogs; and the rest were desirous that the taxation should be equalized. In consequence of this state of things, many of the first citizens met together, and it was resolved that it had become necessary for their safety, that some attempt should be made to recover the government; since their want of vigilance had encouraged men to censure public actions, and allowed those to interfere in affairs who had hitherto been merely the leaders of the rabble. Having repeatedly discussed the subject, they resolved to meet again at an appointed hour, when upwards of seventy citizens assembled in the church of St. Stephen, with the permission of Lorenzo Ridolfi and Francesco Gianfigliazzi, both members of the Signory. Giovanni de’ Medici was not among them either because being under suspicion he was not invited or that entertaining different views he was unwilling to interfere.

Rinaldo degli Albizzi addressed the assembly, describing the condition of the city, and showing how by their own negligence it had again fallen under the power of the plebeians, from whom it had been wrested by their fathers in 1381. He reminded them of the iniquity of the government which was in power from 1378 to 1381, and that all who were then present had to lament, some a father, others a grandfather, put to death by its tyranny. He assured them they were now in the same danger, and that the city was sinking under the same disorders. The multitude had already imposed a tax of its own authority; and would soon, if not restrained by greater force or better regulations, appoint the magistrates, who, in this case, would occupy their places, and overturn the government which for forty-two years had ruled the city with so much glory; the citizens would then be subject to the will of the multitude, and live disorderly and dangerous, or be under the command of some individual who might make himself prince. For these reasons he was of opinion, that whoever loved his country and his honor must arouse himself, and call to mind the virtue of Bardo Mancini, who, by the ruin of the Alberti, rescued the city from the dangers then impending; and that the cause of the audacity now assumed by the multitude was the extensive Squittini or Pollings, which, by their negligence, were allowed to be made; for thus the palace had become filled with low men. He therefore concluded, that the only means of remedying the evil was to restore the government to the nobility, and diminish the authority of the minor trades by reducing the companies from fourteen to seven, which would give the plebeians less authority in the Councils, both by the reduction in their number and by increasing the authority of the great; who, on account of former enmities, would be disinclined to favor them. He added, that it is a good thing to know how to avail themselves of men according to the times; and that as their fathers had used the plebeians to reduce the influence of the great, that now, the great having been humbled, and the plebeians become insolent, it was well to restrain the insolence of the latter by the assistance of the former. To effect this they might proceed either openly or otherwise, for some of them belonging to the Council of Ten, forces might be led into the city without exciting observation.

Rinaldo was much applauded, and his advice was approved of by the whole assembly. Niccolo da Uzzano who, among others, replied to it, said, “All that Rinaldo had advanced was correct, and the remedies he proposed good and certain, if they could be adopted without an absolute division of the city; and this he had no doubt would be effected if they could induce Giovanni de’ Medici to join them; for with him on their side, the multitude being deprived of their chief and stay, would be unable to oppose them; but that if he did not concur with them they could do nothing without arms, and that with them they would incur the risk of being vanquished, or of not being able to reap the fruit of victory.” He then modestly reminded them of what he had said upon a former occasion, and of their reluctance to remedy the evil when it might easily have been done; that now the same remedy could not be attempted without incurring the danger of greater evils, and therefore there was nothing left for them to do but to gain him over to their side, if practicable. Rinaldo was then commissioned to wait upon Giovanni and try if he could induce him to join them.

He undertook this commission, and in the most prevailing words he could make use of endeavored to induce him to coincide with their views; and begged that he would not by favoring an audacious mob, enable them to complete the ruin both of the government and the city. To this Giovanni replied, that he considered it the duty of a good and wise citizen to avoid altering the institutions to which a city is accustomed; there being nothing so injurious to the people as such a change; for many are necessarily offended, and where there are several discontented, some unpropitious event may be constantly apprehended. He said it appeared to him that their resolution would have two exceedingly pernicious effects; the one conferring honors on those who, having never possessed them, esteemed them the less, and therefore had the less occasion to grieve for their absence; the other taking them from those who being accustomed to their possession would never be at rest till they were restored to them. It would thus be evident that the injury done to one party, was greater than the benefit they had conferred upon the other; so that whoever was the author of the proposition, he would gain few friends and make many enemies, and that the latter would be more resolutely bent on injuring him than the former would be zealous for his defense, for mankind are naturally more disposed to revenge than to gratitude, as if the latter could only be exercised with some inconvenience to themselves, while the former brings alike gratification and profit. Then, directing his discourse more particularly to Rinaldo, he said, “And you, if you could call to mind past events, and knew how craftily affairs are conducted in this city, would not be so eager in this pursuit; for he who advises it, when by your aid he has wrested the power from the people, will, with the people’s assistance, who will have become your enemies, deprive you of it. And it will happen to you as to Benedetto Alberti, who, at the persuasion of those who were not his friends, consented to the ruin of Giorgio Scali and Tommaso Strozzi, and shortly afterward was himself sent into exile by the very same men.” He therefore advised Rinaldo to think more maturely of these things, and endeavor to imitate his father, who, to obtain the benevolence of all, reduced the price of salt, provided that whoever owed taxes under half a florin should be at liberty to pay them or not, as he thought proper, and that at the meeting of the Councils every one should be free from the importunities of his creditors. He concluded by saying, that as regarded himself, he was disposed to let the government of the city remain as it was.

CHAPTER III

Giovanni de’ Medici acquires the favor of the people — Bravery of Biaggio del Melano — Baseness of Zanobi del Pino — The Florentines obtain the friendship of the lord of Faenza — League of the Florentines with the Venetians — Origin of the Catasto — The rich citizens discontented with it — Peace with the duke of Milan — New disturbances on account of the Catasto.

These events, and the circumstances attending them, becoming known to the people, contributed greatly to increase the reputation of Giovanni, and brought odium on those who had made the proposals; but he assumed an appearance of indifference, in order to give less encouragement to those who by his influence were desirous of change. In his discourse he intimated to every one that it is not desirable to promote factions, but rather to extinguish them; and that whatever might be expected of him, he only sought the union of the city. This, however, gave offense to many of his party; for they would have rather seen him exhibit greater activity. Among others so disposed, was Alamanno de’ Medici, who being of a restless disposition, never ceased exciting him to persecute enemies and favor friends; condemning his coldness and slow method of proceeding, which he said was the cause of his enemies’ practicing against him, and that these practices would one day effect the ruin of himself and his friends. He endeavored to excite Cosmo, his son, with similar discourses; but Giovanni, for all that was either disclosed or foretold him, remained unmoved, although parties were now declared, and the city in manifest disunion.

There were at the palace, in the service of the Signory, two chancellors, Ser Martino and Ser Pagolo. The latter favored the party of Niccolo da Uzzano, the former that of Giovanni; and Rinaldo, seeing Giovanni unwilling to join them, thought it would be advisable to deprive Ser Martino of his office, that he might have the palace more completely under his control. The design becoming known to his adversaries, Ser Martino was retained and Ser Pagolo discharged, to the great injury and displeasure of Rinaldo and his party. This circumstance would soon have produced most mischievous effects, but for the war with which the city was threatened, and the recent defeat suffered at Zagonara, which served to check the audacity of the people; for while these events were in progress at Florence, Agnolo della Pergola, with the forces of the duke, had taken all the towns and cities possessed by the Florentines in Romagna, except Castracaro and Modigliano; partly from the weakness of the places themselves, and partly by the misconduct of those who had the command of them. In the course of the campaign, two instances occurred which served to show how greatly courage is admired even in enemies, and how much cowardice and pusillanimity are despised.

Biaggio del Melano was castellan in the fortress of Monte Petroso. Being surrounded by enemies, and seeing no chance of saving the place, which was already in flames, he cast clothes and straw from a part which was not yet on fire, and upon these he threw his two little children, saying to the enemy, “Take to yourselves those goods which fortune has bestowed upon me, and of which you may deprive me; but those of the mind, in which my honor and glory consist, I will not give up, neither can you wrest them from me.” The besiegers ran to save the children, and placed for their father ropes and ladders, by which to save himself, but he would not use them, and rather chose to die in the flames than owe his safety to the enemies of his country: an example worthy of that much lauded antiquity, which offers nothing to surpass it, and which we admire the more from the rarity of any similar occurrence. Whatever could be recovered from the ruins, was restored for the use of the children, and carefully conveyed to their friends; nor was the republic less grateful; for as long as they lived, they were supported at her charge.

An example of an opposite character occurred at Galeata, where Zanobi del Pino was governor; he, without offering the least resistance, gave up the fortress to the enemy; and besides this, advised Agnolo della Pergola to leave the Alps of Romagna, and come among the smaller hills of Tuscany, where he might carry on the war with less danger and greater advantage. Agnolo could not endure the mean and base spirit of this man, and delivered him to his own attendants, who, after many reproaches, gave him nothing to eat but paper painted with snakes, saying, that of a Guelph they would make him a Ghibelline; and thus fasting, he died in a few days.

At this time Count Oddo and Niccolo Piccinino entered the Val di Lamona, with the design of bringing the lord of Faenza over to the Florentines, or at least inducing him to restrain the incursions of Agnolo della Pergola into Romagna; but as this valley is naturally strong, and its inhabitants warlike, Count Oddo was slain there, and Niccolo Piccinino sent a prisoner to Faenza. Fortune, however, caused the Florentines to obtain by their loss, what, perhaps, they would have failed to acquire by victory; for Niccolo so prevailed with the lord of Faenza and his mother, that they became friends of the Florentines. By this treaty, Niccolo Piccinino was set at liberty, but did not take the advice he had given others; for while in treaty with the city, concerning the terms of his engagement, either the conditions proposed were insufficient, or he found better elsewhere; for quite suddenly he left Arezzo, where he had been staying, passed into Lombardy, and entered the service of the duke.

The Florentines, alarmed by this circumstance, and reduced to despondency by their frequent losses, thought themselves unable to sustain the war alone, and sent ambassadors to the Venetians, to beg they would lend their aid to oppose the greatness of one who, if allowed to aggrandize himself, would soon become as dangerous to them as to the Florentines themselves. The Venetians were advised to adopt the same course by Francesco Carmignuola, one of the most distinguished warriors of those times, who had been in the service of the duke, and had afterward quitted it; but they hesitated, not knowing how far to trust him; for they thought his enmity with the duke was only feigned. While in this suspense, it was found that the duke, by means of a servant of Carmignuola, had caused poison to be given him in his food, which, although it was not fatal, reduced him to extremity. The truth being discovered, the Venetians laid aside their suspicion; and as the Florentines still solicited their assistance, a treaty was formed between the two powers, by which they agreed to carry on the war at the common expense of both: the conquests in Lombardy to be assigned to the Venetians; those in Romagna and Tuscany to the Florentines; and Carmignuola was appointed Captain General of the League. By this treaty the war was commenced in Lombardy, where it was admirably conducted; for in a few months many places were taken from the duke, together with the city of Brescia, the capture of which was in those days considered a most brilliant exploit.

The war had continued from 1422 to 1427, and the citizens of Florence were so wearied of the taxes that had been imposed during that time, that it was resolved to revise them, preparatory to their amelioration. That they might be equalized according to the means of each citizen, it was proposed that whoever possessed property of the value of one hundred florins should pay half a florin of taxes. Individual contribution would thus be determined by an invariable rule, and not left to the discretion of parties; and as it was found that the new method would press heavily upon the powerful classes, they used their utmost endeavors to prevent it from becoming law. Giovanni de’ Medici alone declared himself in favor of it, and by his means it was passed. In order to determine the amount each had to pay, it was necessary to consider his property in the aggregate, which the Florentines call accatastare, in which in this application of it would signify TO RATE or VALUE, and hence this tax received the name of catasto. The new method of rating formed a powerful check to the tyranny of the great, who could no longer oppress the lower classes, or silence them with threats in the council as they had formerly done, and it therefore gave general satisfaction, though to the wealthy classes it was in the highest degree offensive. But as it is found men are never satisfied, but that the possession of one advantage only makes them desire more, the people, not content with the equality of taxation which the new law produced, demanded that the same rule should be applied to past years; that in investigation should be made to determine how much, according to the Catasto, the rich had paid less than their share, and that they should now pay up to an equality with those who, in order to meet the demand unjustly made, had been compelled to sell their possessions. This proposal alarmed the great more than the Catasto had done; and in self-defense they unceasingly decried it, declaring it in the highest degree unjust in being laid not only on immovable but movable property, which people possess to-day and lose to-morrow; that many persons have hidden wealth which the Catasto cannot reach; that those who leave their own affairs to manage those of the republic should be less burdened by her, it being enough for them to give their labour, and that it was unjust of the city to take both their property and their time, while of others she only took money. The advocates of the Catasto replied, that if movable property varies, the taxes would also vary, and frequently rating it would remedy the evil to which it was subject; that it was unnecessary to mention those who possessed hidden property; for it would be unreasonable to take taxes for that which produced no interest, and that if it paid anything, it could not fail to be discovered: that those who did not like to labor for the republic might cease to do so; for no doubt she would find plenty of loving citizens who would take pleasure in assisting her with both money and counsel: that the advantages and honors of a participation in the government are so great, that of themselves they are a sufficient remuneration to those who thus employ themselves, without wishing to be excused from paying their share of taxes. But, they added, the real grievance had not been mentioned: for those who were offended with the Catasto, regretted they could no longer involve the city in all the difficulties of war without injury to themselves, now that they had to contribute like the rest; and that if this law had then been in force they would not have gone to war with King Ladislaus, or the Duke Filippo, both which enterprises had been not through necessity, but to impoverish the citizens. The excitement was appeased by Giovanni de’ Medici, who said, “It is not well to go into things so long past, unless to learn something for our present guidance; and if in former times the taxation has been unjust, we ought to be thankful, that we have now discovered a method of making it equitable, and hope that this will be the means of uniting the citizens, not of dividing them; which would certainly be the case were they to attempt the recovery of taxes for the past, and make them equal to the present; and that he who is content with a moderate victory is always most successful; for those who would more than conquer, commonly lose.” With such words as these he calmed the disturbance, and this retrospective equalization was no longer contemplated.

The war with the duke still continued; but peace was at length restored by means of a legate of the pope. The duke, however, from the first disregarded the conditions, so that the league again took arms, and meeting the enemy’s forces at Maclovio routed them. After this defeat the duke again made proposals for peace, to which the Florentines and Venetians both agreed; the former from jealousy of the Venetians, thinking they had spent quite enough money in the aggrandizement of others; the latter, because they found Carmignuola, after the defeat of the duke, proceed but coldly in their cause; so that they thought it no longer safe to trust him. A treaty was therefore concluded in 1428, by which the Florentines recovered the places they had lost in Romagna; and the Venetians kept Brescia, to which the duke added Bergamo and the country around it. In this war the Florentines expended three millions and a half of ducats, extended the territory and power of the Venetians, and brought poverty and disunion upon themselves.

Being at peace with their neighbors, domestic troubles recommenced. The great citizens could not endure the Catasto, and not knowing how to set it aside, they endeavored to raise up more numerous enemies to the measure, and thus provide themselves with allies to assist them in annulling it. They therefore instructed the officers appointed to levy the tax, that the law required them to extend the Catasto over the property of their nearest neighbors, to see if Florentine wealth was concealed among it. The dependent states were therefore ordered to present a schedule of their property against a certain time. This was extremely offensive to the people of Volterra, who sent to the Signory to complain of it; but the officers, in great wrath, committed eighteen of the complainants to prison. The Volterrani, however, out of regard for their fellow-countrymen who were arrested, did not proceed to any violence.

CHAPTER IV

Death of Giovanni de’ Medici — His character — Insurrection of Volterra — Volterra returns to her allegiance — Niccolo Fortebraccio attacks the Lucchese — Diversity of opinion about the Lucchese war — War with Lucca — Astore Gianni and Rinaldo degli Albizzi appointed commissaries — Violence of Astorre Gianni.

About this time Giovanni de’ Medici was taken ill, and finding his end approach, called his sons Cosmo and Lorenzo to him, to give them his last advice, and said, “I find I have nearly reached the term which God and nature appointed at my birth, and I die content, knowing that I leave you rich, healthy, and of such standing in society, that if you pursue the same course that I have, you will live respected in Florence, and in favor with everyone. Nothing cheers me so much at this moment, as the recollection that I have never willfully offended anyone; but have always used my utmost endeavors to confer benefits upon all. I would have you do so too. With regard to state affairs, if you would live in security, take just such a share as the laws and your countrymen think proper to bestow, thus you will escape both danger and envy; for it is not what is given to any individual, but what he has determined to possess, that occasions odium. You will thus have a larger share than those who endeavor to engross more than belongs to them; for they thus usually lose their own, and before they lose it, live in constant disquiet. By adopting this method, although among so many enemies, and surrounded by so many conflicting interests, I have not only maintained my reputation but increased my influence. If you pursue the same course, you will be attended by the same good fortune; if otherwise, you may be assured, your end will resemble that of those who in our own times have brought ruin both upon themselves and their families.” Soon after this interview with his sons, Giovanni died, regretted by everyone, as his many excellencies deserved. He was compassionate; not only bestowing alms on those who asked them, but very frequently relieving the necessities of the poor, without having been solicited so to do. He loved all; praised the good, and pitied the infirmities of the wicked. He never sought the honors of government; yet enjoyed them all; and never went to the palace unless by request. He loved peace and shunned war; relieved mankind in adversity, and assisted them in prosperity; never applied the public money to his own uses, but contributed to the public wealth. He was courteous in office; not a man of great eloquence, but possessed of extraordinary prudence. His demeanor expressed melancholy; but after a short time his conversation became pleasant and facetious. He died exceedingly rich in money, but still more in good fame and the best wishes of mankind; and the wealth and respect he left behind him were not only preserved but increased by his son Cosmo.

The Volterran ambassadors grew weary of lying in prison, and to obtain their liberty promised to comply with the commands of the Florentines. Being set free and returned to their city, the time arrived for the new Priors to enter upon office, and among those who were drawn, was one named Giusto, a plebeian, but possessing great influence with his class, and one of those who had been imprisoned at Florence. He, being inflamed with hatred against the Florentines on account of his public as well as personal injuries, was further stimulated by Giovanni di Contugi, a man of noble family, and his colleague in office, to induce the people, by the authority of the Priors and his own influence, to withdraw their country from the power of the Florentines, and make himself prince. Prompted by these motives, Giusto took arms, rode through the city, seized the Capitano, who resided in it, on behalf of the Florentines, and with the consent of the people, became lord of Volterra. This circumstance greatly displeased the Florentines; but having just made peace with the duke, and the treaty being yet uninfringed on either side, they bethought themselves in a condition to recover the place; and that the opportunity might not be lost, they immediately appointed Rinaldo degli Albizzi and Palla Strozzi commissaries, and sent them upon the expedition. In the meantime, Giusto, who expected the Florentines would attack him, requested assistance of Lucca and Sienna. The latter refused, alleging her alliance with Florence; and Pagolo Guinigi, to regain the favor of the Florentines, which he imagined he had lost in the war with the duke and by his friendship for Filippo, not only refused assistance to Giusto, but sent his messenger prisoner to Florence.

The commissaries, to come upon the Volterrani unawares, assembled their cavalry, and having raised a good body of infantry in the Val d’Arno Inferiore, and the country about Pisa, proceeded to Volterra. Although attacked by the Florentines and abandoned by his neighbors, Giusto did not yield to fear; but, trusting to the strength of the city and the ruggedness of the country around it, prepared for his defense.

There lived at Volterra one Arcolano, brother of that Giovanni Contugi who had persuaded Giusto to assume the command. He possessed influence among the nobility, and having assembled a few of his most confidential friends, he assured them that by this event, God had come to the relief of their necessities; for if they would only take arms, deprive Giusto of the Signory, and give up the city to the Florentines, they might be sure of obtaining the principal offices, and the place would retain all its ancient privileges. Having gained them over, they went to the palace in which Giusto resided; and while part of them remained below, Arcolano, with three others, proceeded to the chamber above, where finding him with some citizens, they drew him aside, as if desirous to communicate something of importance, and conversing on different subjects, let him to the lower apartment, and fell upon him with their swords. They, however, were not so quick as to prevent Giusto from making use of his own weapon; for with it he seriously wounded two of them; but being unable to resist so many, he was at last slain, and his body thrown into the street. Arcolano and his party gave up the city to the Florentine commissaries, who, being at hand with their forces, immediately took possession; but the condition of Volterra was worse than before; for among other things which operated to her disadvantage, most of the adjoining countryside was separated from her, and she was reduced to the rank of a vicariate.

Volterra having been lost and recovered almost at the same time, present circumstances afforded nothing of sufficient importance to occasion a new war, if ambition had not again provoked one. Niccolo Fortebraccio, the son of a sister of Braccio da Perugia, had been in the service of the Florentines during most of their wars with the duke. Upon the restoration of peace he was discharged; but when the affair of Volterra took place, being encamped with his people at Fucecchio, the commissaries availed themselves both of himself and his forces. Some thought that while Rinaldo conducted the expedition along with him, he persuaded him, under one pretext or another, to attack the Lucchese, assuring him, that if he did so, the Florentines would consent to undertake an expedition against them, and would appoint him to the command. When Volterra was recovered, and Niccolo returned to his quarters at Fucecchio, he, either at the persuasion of Rinaldo, or of his own accord, in November, 1429, took possession of Ruoti and Compito, castles belonging to the Lucchese, with three hundred cavalry and as many infantry, and then descending into the plain, plundered the inhabitants to a vast amount. The news of this incursion having reached Florence, persons of all classes were seen gathered in parties throughout the city discussing the matter, and nearly all were in favor of an expedition against Lucca. Of the Grandees thus disposed, were the Medici and their party, and with them also Rinaldo, either because he thought the enterprise beneficial to the republic, or induced by his own ambition and the expectation of being appointed to the command. Niccolo da Uzzano and his party were opposed to the war. It seems hardly credible that such contrary opinions should prevail, though at different times, in the same men and the same city, upon the subject of war; for the same citizens and people that, during the ten years of peace had incessantly blamed the war undertaken against Duke Filippo, in defense of liberty, now, after so much expense and trouble, with their utmost energy, insisted on hostilities against Lucca, which, if successful, would deprive that city of her liberty; while those who had been in favor of a war with the duke, were opposed to the present; so much more ready are the multitude to covet the possessions of others than to preserve their own, and so much more easily are they led by the hope of acquisition than by the fear of loss. The suggestions of the latter appear incredible till they are verified; and the pleasing anticipations of the former are cherished as facts, even while the advantages are very problematical, or at best, remote. The people of Florence were inspired with hope, by the acquisitions which Niccolo Fortebraccio had made, and by letters received from their rectors in the vicinity of Lucca; for their deputies at Vico and Pescia had written, that if permission were given to them to receive the castles that offered to surrender, the whole country of Lucca would very soon be obtained. It must, however, be added, that an ambassador was sent by the governor of Lucca to Florence, to complain of the attack made by Niccolo, and to entreat that the Signory would not make war against a neighbor, and a city that had always been friendly to them. The ambassador was Jacopo Viviani, who, a short time previously, had been imprisoned by Pagolo Guinigi, governor of Lucca, for having conspired against him. Although he had been found guilty, his life was spared, and as Pagolo thought the forgiveness mutual, he reposed confidence in him. Jacopo, more mindful of the danger he had incurred than of the lenity exercised toward him, on his arrival in Florence secretly instigated the citizens to hostilities; and these instigations, added to other hopes, induced the Signory to call the Council together, at which 498 citizens assembled, before whom the principal men of the city discussed the question.

Among the first who addressed the assembly in favor of the expedition, was Rinaldo. He pointed out the advantage that would accrue from the acquisition, and justified the enterprise from its being left open to them by the Venetians and the duke, and that as the pope was engaged in the affairs of Naples, he could not interfere. He then remarked upon the facility of the expedition, showing that Lucca, being now in bondage to one of her own citizens, had lost her natural vigor and former anxiety for the preservation of her liberty, and would either be surrendered to them by the people in order to expel the tyrant, or by the tyrant for fear of the people. He recalled the remembrance of the injuries done to the republic by the governor of Lucca; his malevolent disposition toward them; and their embarrassing situation with regard to him, if the pope or the duke were to make war upon them; and concluded that no enterprise was ever undertaken by the people of Florence with such perfect facility, more positive advantage, or greater justice in its favor.

In a reply to this, Niccolo da Uzzano stated that the city of Florence never entered on a more unjust or more dangerous project, or one more pregnant with evil, than this. In the first place they were going to attack a Guelphic city, that had always been friendly to the Florentine people, and had frequently, at great hazard, received the Guelphs into her bosom when they were expelled from their own country. That in the history of the past there was not an instance, while Lucca was free, of her having done an injury to the Florentines; and that if they had been injured by her enslavers, as formerly by Castruccio, and now by the present governor, the fault was not in the city, but in her tyrant. That if they could assail the latter without detriment to the people, he should have less scruple, but as this was impossible, he could not consent that a city which had been friendly to Florence should be plundered of her wealth. However, as it was usual at present to pay little or no regard either to equity or injustice, he would consider the matter solely with reference to the advantage of Florence. He thought that what could not easily be attended by pernicious consequences might be esteemed useful, but he could not imagine how an enterprise should be called advantageous in which the evils were certain and the utility doubtful. The certain evils were the expenses with which it would be attended; and these, he foresaw, would be sufficiently great to alarm even a people that had long been in repose, much more one wearied, as they were, by a tedious and expensive war. The advantage that might be gained was the acquisition of Lucca, which he acknowledged to be great; but the hazards were so enormous and immeasurable, as in his opinion to render the conquest quite impossible. He could not induce himself to believe that the Venetians, or Filippo, would willingly allow them to make the acquisition; for the former only consented in appearance, in order to avoid the semblance of ingratitude, having so lately, with Florentine money, acquired such an extent of dominion. That as regarded the duke, it would greatly gratify him to see them involved in new wars and expenses; for, being exhausted and defeated on all sides, he might again assail them; and that if, after having undertaken it, their enterprise against Lucca were to prove successful, and offer them the fullest hope of victory, the duke would not want an opportunity of frustrating their labors, either by assisting the Lucchese secretly with money, or by apparently disbanding his own troops, and then sending them, as if they were soldiers of fortune, to their relief. He therefore advised that they should give up the idea, and behave toward the tyrant in such a way as to create him as many enemies as possible; for there was no better method of reducing Lucca than to let them live under the tyrant, oppressed and exhausted by him; for, if prudently managed, that city would soon get into such a condition that he could not retain it, and being ignorant or unable to govern itself, it must of necessity fall into their power. But he saw that his discourse did not please them, and that his words were unheeded; he would, however, predict this to them, that they were about to commence a war in which they would expend vast sums, incur great domestic dangers, and instead of becoming masters of Lucca, they would deliver her from her tyrant, and of a friendly city, feeble and oppressed, they would make one free and hostile, and that in time she would become an obstacle to the greatness of their own republic.

The question having been debated on both sides, they proceeded to vote, as usual, and of the citizens present only ninety-eight were against the enterprise. Thus determined in favor of war, they appointed a Council of Ten for its management, and hired forces, both horse and foot. Astorre Gianni and Rinaldo degli Albizzi were appointed commissaries, and Niccolo Fortebraccio, on agreeing to give up to the Florentines the places he had taken, was engaged to conduct the enterprise as their captain. The commissaries having arrived with the army in the country of the Lucchese, divided their forces; one part of which, under Astorre, extended itself along the plain, toward Camaiore and Pietrasanta, while Rinaldo, with the other division, took the direction of the hills, presuming that when the citizens found themselves deprived of the surrounding country, they would easily submit. The proceedings of the commissaries were unfortunate, not that they failed to occupy many places, but from the complaints made against them of mismanaging the operations of the war; and Astorre Gianni had certainly given very sufficient cause for the charges against him.

There is a fertile and populous valley near Pietrasanta, called Seravezza, whose inhabitants, on learning the arrival of the commissary, presented themselves before him and begged he would receive them as faithful subjects of the Florentine republic. Astorre pretended to accept their proposal, but immediately ordered his forces to take possession of all the passes and strong positions of the valley, assembled the men in the principal church, took them all prisoners, and then caused his people to plunder and destroy the whole country, with the greatest avarice and cruelty, making no distinction in favor of consecrated places, and violating the women, both married and single. These things being known in Florence, displeased not only the magistracy, but the whole city.

CHAPTER V

The inhabitants of Seravezza appeal to the Signory — Complaints against Rinaldo degli Albizzi — The commissaries changed — Filippo Brunelleschi proposes to submerge the country about Lucca — Pagolo Guinigi asks assistance of the duke of Milan — The duke sends Francesco Sforza — Pagolo Guinigi expelled — The Florentines routed by the forces of the duke — The acquisitions of the Lucchese after the victory — Conclusion of the war.

A few of the inhabitants of the valley of Seravezza, having escaped the hands of the commissary, came to Florence and acquainted every one in the streets with their miserable situation; and by the advice of those who, either through indignation at his wickedness or from being of the opposite party, wished to punish the commissary, they went to the Council of Ten, and requested an audience. This being granted, one of them spoke to the following effect: “We feel assured, magnificent lords, that we shall find credit and compassion from the Signory, when you learn how your commissary has taken possession of our country, and in what manner he has treated us. Our valley, as the memorials of your ancient houses abundantly testify, was always Guelphic, and has often proved a secure retreat to your citizens when persecuted by the Ghibellines. Our forefathers, and ourselves too, have always revered the name of this noble republic as the leader and head of their party. While the Lucchese were Guelphs we willingly submitted to their government; but when enslaved by the tyrant, who forsook his old friends to join the Ghibelline faction, we have obeyed him more through force than good will. And God knows how often we have prayed, that we might have an opportunity of showing our attachment to our ancient party. But how blind are mankind in their wishes! That which we desired for our safety has proved our destruction. As soon as we learned that your ensigns were approaching, we hastened to meet your commissary, not as an enemy, but as the representative of our ancient lords; placed our valley, our persons, and our fortunes in his hands, and commended them to his good faith, believing him to possess the soul, if not of a Florentine, at least of a man. Your lordships will forgive us; for, unable to support his cruelties, we are compelled to speak. Your commissary has nothing of the man but the shape, nor of a Florentine but the name; a more deadly pest, a more savage beast, a more horrid monster never was imagined in the human mind; for, having assembled us in our church under pretense of wishing to speak with us, he made us prisoners. He then burned and destroyed the whole valley, carried off our property, ravaged every place, destroyed everything, violated the women, dishonored the virgins, and dragging them from the arms of their mothers, gave them up to the brutality of his soldiery. If by any injury to the Florentine people we merited such treatment, or if he had vanquished us armed in our defense, we should have less reason for complaint; we should have accused ourselves, and thought that either our mismanagement or our arrogance had deservedly brought the calamity upon us; but after having freely presented ourselves to him unarmed, to be robbed and plundered with such unfeeling barbarity, is more than we can bear. And though we might have filled Lombardy with complaints and charges against this city, and spread the story of our misfortunes over the whole of Italy, we did not wish to slander so just and pious a republic, with the baseness and perfidy of one wicked citizen, whose cruelty and avarice, had we known them before our ruin was complete, we should have endeavored to satiate (though indeed they are insatiable), and with one-half of our property have saved the rest. But the opportunity is past; we are compelled to have recourse to you, and beg that you will succor the distresses of your subjects, that others may not be deterred by our example from submitting themselves to your authority. And if our extreme distress cannot prevail with you to assist us, be induced, by your fear of the wrath of God, who has seen his temple plundered and burned, and his people betrayed in his bosom.” Having said this they threw themselves on the ground, crying aloud, and praying that their property and their country might be restored to them; and that if the Signory could not give them back their honor, they would, at least, restore husbands to their wives, and children to their fathers. The atrocity of the affair having already been made known, and now by the living words of the sufferers presented before them, excited the compassion of the magistracy. They ordered the immediate return of Astorre, who being tried, was found guilty, and admonished. They sought the goods of the inhabitants of Seravezza; all that could be recovered was restored to them, and as time and circumstance gave opportunity, they were compensated for the rest.

Complaints were made against Rinaldo degli Albizzi, that he carried on the war, not for the advantage of the Florentine people, but his own private emolument; that as soon as he was appointed commissary, he lost all desire to take Lucca, for it was sufficient for him to plunder the country, fill his estates with cattle, and his house with booty; and, not content with what his own satellites took, he purchased that of the soldiery, so that instead of a commissary he became a merchant. These calumnies coming to his ears, disturbed the temper of this proud but upright man, more than quite became his dignity. He was so exasperated against the citizens and magistracy, that without waiting for or asking permission, he returned to Florence, and, presenting himself before the Council of Ten, he said that he well knew how difficult and dangerous a thing it was to serve an unruly people and a divided city, for the one listens to every report, the other pursues improper measures; they neglect to reward good conduct, and heap censure upon whatever appears doubtful; so that victory wins no applause, error is accused by all, and if vanquished, universal condemnation is incurred; from one’s own party through envy, and from enemies through hatred, persecution results. He confessed that the baseness of the present calumnies had conquered his patience and changed the temper of his mind; but he would say, he had never, for fear of a false accusation, avoided doing what appeared to him beneficial to the city. However, he trusted the magistrates would in future be more ready to defend their fellow-citizens, so that the latter might continue anxious to effect the prosperity of their country; that as it was not customary at Florence to award triumphs for success, they ought at least to be protected from calumny; and that being citizens themselves, and at any moment liable to false accusations, they might easily conceive how painful it is to an upright mind to be oppressed with slander. The Ten endeavored, as well as circumstances would admit, to soothe the acerbity of his feelings, and confided the care of the expedition to Neri di Gino and Alamanno Salviati, who, instead of overrunning the country, advanced near to Lucca. As the weather had become extremely cold, the forces established themselves at Campannole, which seemed to the commissaries waste of time; and wishing to draw nearer the place, the soldiery refused to comply, although the Ten had insisted they should pitch their camp before the city, and would not hear of any excuse.

At that time there lived at Florence, a very distinguished architect, named Filippo di Ser Brunelleschi, of whose works our city is full, and whose merit was so extraordinary, that after his death his statue in marble was erected in the principal church, with an inscription underneath, which still bears testimony to those who read it, of his great talents. This man pointed out, that in consequence of the relative positions of the river Serchio and the city of Lucca, the wastes of the river might be made to inundate the surrounding country, and place the city in a kind of lake. His reasoning on this point appeared so clear, and the advantage to the besiegers so obvious and inevitable, that the Ten were induced to make the experiment. The result, however, was quite contrary to their expectation, and produced the utmost disorder in the Florentine camp; for the Lucchese raised high embankments in the direction of the ditch made by our people to conduct the waters of the Serchio, and one night cut through the embankment of the ditch itself, so that having first prevented the water from taking the course designed by the architect, they now caused it to overflow the plain, and compelled the Florentines, instead of approaching the city as they wished, to take a more remote position.

The design having failed, the Council of Ten, who had been re-elected, sent as commissary, Giovanni Guicciardini, who encamped before Lucca, with all possible expedition. Pagolo Guinigi finding himself thus closely pressed, by the advice of Antonio del Rosso, then representative of the Siennese at Lucca, sent Salvestro Trento and Leonardo Bonvisi to Milan, to request assistance from the duke; but finding him indisposed to comply, they secretly engaged, on the part of the people, to deliver their governor up to him and give him possession of the place; at the same time intimating, that if he did not immediately follow this advice, he would not long have the opportunity, since it was the intention of Pagolo to surrender the city to the Florentines, who were very anxious to obtain it. The duke was so much alarmed with this idea, that, setting aside all other considerations, he caused Count Francesco Sforza, who was engaged in his service, to make a public request for permission to go to Naples; and having obtained it, he proceeded with his forces directly to Lucca, though the Florentines, aware of the deception, and apprehensive of the consequences, had sent to the count, Boccacino Alamanni, his friend, to frustrate this arrangement. Upon the arrival of the count at Lucca, the Florentines removed their camp to Librafatta, and the count proceeded immediately to Pescia, where Pagolo Diacceto was lieutenant governor, who, promoted by fear rather than any better motive, fled to Pistoia, and if the place had not been defended by Giovanni Malavolti, to whom the command was intrusted, it would have been lost. The count failing in his attempt went to Borgo a Buggiano which he took, and burned the castle of Stigliano, in the same neighborhood.

The Florentines being informed of these disasters, found they must have recourse to those remedies which upon former occasions had often proved useful. Knowing that with mercenary soldiers, when force is insufficient, corruption commonly prevails, they offered the count a large sum of money on condition that he should quit the city, and give it up to them. The count finding that no more money was to be had from Lucca, resolved to take it of those who had it to dispense, and agreed with the Florentines, not to give them Lucca, which for decency he could not consent to, but to withdraw his troops, and abandon it, on condition of receiving fifty thousand ducats; and having made this agreement, to induce the Lucchese to excuse him to the duke, he consented that they should expel their tyrant.

Antonio del Rosso, as we remarked above, was Siennese ambassador at Lucca, and with the authority of the count he contrived the ruin of Pagolo Guinigi. The heads of the conspiracy were Pierro Cennami and Giovanni da Chivizzano. The count resided upon the Serchio, at a short distance from the city, and with him was Lanzilao, the son of Pagolo. The conspirators, about forty in number, went armed at night in search of Pagolo, who, on hearing the noise they made, came toward them quite astonished, and demanded the cause of their visit; to which Piero Cennami replied, that they had long been governed by him, and led about against the enemy, to die either by hunger or the sword, but were resolved to govern themselves for the future, and demanded the keys of the city and the treasure. Pagolo said the treasure was consumed, but the keys and himself were in their power; he only begged that as his command had begun and continued without bloodshed, it might conclude in the same manner. Count Francesco conducted Pagolo and his son to the duke, and they afterward died in prison.

The departure of the count having delivered Lucca from her tyrant, and the Florentines from their fear of his soldiery, the former prepared for her defense, and the latter resumed the siege. They appointed the count of Urbino to conduct their forces, and he pressed the Lucchese so closely, that they were again compelled to ask the assistance of the duke, who dispatched Niccolo Piccinino, under the same pretense as he previously sent Count Francesco. The Florentine forces met him on his approach to Lucca, and at the passage of the Serchio a battle ensued, in which they were routed, the commissary with a few of his men escaping to Pisa. This defeat filled the Florentines with dismay, and as the enterprise had been undertaken with the entire approbation of the great body of the people, they did not know whom to find fault with, and therefore railed against those who had been appointed to the management of the war, reviving the charges made against Rinaldo. They were, however, more severe against Giovanni Guicciardini than any other, declaring that if he had wished, he might have put a period to the war at the departure of Count Francesco, but that he had been bribed with money, for he had sent home a large sum, naming the party who had been intrusted to bring it, and the persons to whom it had been delivered. These complaints and accusations were carried to so great a length that the captain of the people, induced by the public voice, and pressed by the party opposed to the war, summoned him to trial. Giovanni appeared, though full of indignation. However his friends, from regard to their own character, adopted such a course with the Capitano as induced him to abandon the inquiry.

After this victory, the Lucchese not only recovered the places that had belonged to them, but occupied all the country of Pisa except Beintina, Calcinaja, Livorno, and Librafatta; and, had not a conspiracy been discovered that was formed in Pisa, they would have secured that city also. The Florentines again prepared for battle, and appointed Micheletto, a pupil of Sforza, to be their leader. The duke, on the other hand, followed up this victory, and that he might bring a greater power against the Florentines, induced the Genoese, the Siennese, and the governor of Piombino, to enter into a league for the defense of Lucca, and to engage Niccolo Piccinino to conduct their forces. Having by this step declared his design, the Venetians and the Florentines renewed their league, and the war was carried on openly in Tuscany and Lombardy, in each of which several battles were fought with variety of fortune. At length, both sides being wearied out, they came to terms for the cessation of hostilities, in May, 1433. By this arrangement the Florentines, Lucchese, and Siennese, who had each occupied many fortresses belonging to the others, gave them all up, and each party resumed its original possessions.

CHAPTER VI

Cosmo de’ Medici, his character and mode of proceedings — The greatness of Cosmo excites the jealousy of the citizens — The opinion of Niccolo da Uzzano — Scandalous divisions of the Florentines — Death of Niccolo da Uzzano — Bernardo Guadagni, Gonfalonier, adopts measures against Cosmo — Cosmo arrested in the palace — He is apprehensive of attempts against his life.

During the war the malignant humors of the city were in constant activity. Cosmo de’ Medici, after the death of Giovanni, engaged more earnestly in public affairs, and conducted himself with more zeal and boldness in regard to his friends than his father had done, so that those who rejoiced at Giovanni’s death, finding what the son was likely to become, perceived they had no cause for exultation. Cosmo was one of the most prudent of men; of grave and courteous demeanor, extremely liberal and humane. He never attempted anything against parties, or against rulers, but was bountiful to all; and by the unwearied generosity of his disposition, made himself partisans of all ranks of the citizens. This mode of proceeding increased the difficulties of those who were in the government, and Cosmo himself hoped that by its pursuit he might be able to live in Florence as much respected and as secure as any other citizen; or if the ambition of his adversaries compelled him to adopt a different course, arms and the favor of his friends would enable him to become more so. Averardo de’ Medici and Puccio Pucci were greatly instrumental in the establishment of his power; the former by his boldness, the latter by unusual prudence and sagacity, contributed to his aggrandizement. Indeed the advice of wisdom of Puccio were so highly esteemed, that Cosmo’s party was rather distinguished by the name of Puccio than by his own.

By this divided city the enterprise against Lucca was undertaken; and the bitterness of party spirit, instead of being abated, increased. Although the friends of Cosmo had been in favor of it, many of the adverse faction were sent to assist in the management, as being men of greater influence in the state. Averardo de’ Medici and the rest being unable to prevent this, endeavored with all their might to calumniate them; and when any unfavorable circumstance occurred (and there were many), fortune and the exertions of the enemy were never supposed to be the causes, but solely the want of capacity in the commissary. This disposition aggravated the offenses of Astorre Gianni; this excited the indignation of Rinaldo degli Albizzi, and made him resign his commission without leave; this, too, compelled the captain of the people to require the appearance of Giovanni Guicciardini, and from this arose all the other charges which were made against the magistrates and the commissaries. Real evils were magnified, unreal ones feigned, and the true and the false were equally believed by the people, who were almost universally their foes.

All these events and extraordinary modes of proceeding were perfectly known to Niccolo da Uzzano and the other leaders of the party; and they had often consulted together for the purpose of finding a remedy, but without effect; though they were aware of the danger of allowing them to increase, and the great difficulty that would attend any attempt to remove or abate them. Niccolo da Uzzano was the earliest to take offense; and while the war was proceeding without, and these troubles within, Niccolo Barbadoro desirous of inducing him to consent to the ruin of Cosmo, waited upon him at his house; and finding him alone in his study, and very pensive, endeavored, with the best reasons he could advance, to persuade him to agree with Rinaldo on Cosmo’s expulsion. Niccolo da Uzzano replied as follows: “It would be better for thee and thy house, as well as for our republic, if thou and those who follow thee in this opinion had beards of silver instead of gold, as is said of thee; for advice proceeding from the hoary head of long experience would be wiser and of greater service to all. It appears to me, that those who talk of driving Cosmo out of Florence would do well to consider what is their strength, and what that of Cosmo. You have named one party, that of the nobility, the other that of the plebeians. If the fact corresponded with the name, the victory would still be most uncertain, and the example of the ancient nobility of this city, who were destroyed by the plebeians, ought rather to impress us with fear than with hope. We have, however, still further cause for apprehension from the division of our party, and the union of our adversaries. In the first place, Neri di Gino and Nerone di Nigi, two of our principal citizens, have never so fully declared their sentiments as to enable us to determine whether they are most our friends our those of our opponents. There are many families, even many houses, divided; many are opposed to us through envy of brothers or relatives. I will recall to your recollection two or three of the most important; you may think of the others at your leisure. Of the sons of Maso degli Albizzi, Luca, from envy of Rinaldo, has thrown himself into their hands. In the house of Guicciardini, of the sons of Luigi, Piero is the enemy of Giovanni and in favor of our adversaries. Tommaso and Niccolo Soderini openly oppose us on account of their hatred of their uncle Francesco. So that if we consider well what we are, and what our enemies, I cannot see why we should be called NOBLE any more than they. If it is because they are followed by the plebeians, we are in a worse condition on that account, and they in a better; for were it to come either to arms or to votes, we should not be able to resist them. True it is, we still preserve our dignity, our precedence, the priority of our position, but this arises from the former reputation of the government, which has now continued fifty years; and whenever we come to the proof, or they discover our weakness we shall lose it. If you were to say, the justice of our cause ought to augment our influence and diminish theirs I answer, that this justice requires to be perceived and believed by others as well as by ourselves, but this is not the case; for the justice of our cause is wholly founded upon our suspicion that Cosmo designs to make himself prince of the city. And although we entertain this suspicion and suppose it to be correct, others have it not; but what is worse, they charge us with the very design of which we accuse him. Those actions of Cosmo which lead us to suspect him are, that he lends money indiscriminately, and not to private persons only, but to the public; and not to Florentines only, but to the condottieri, the soldiers of fortune. Besides, he assists any citizen who requires magisterial aid; and, by the universal interest he possesses in the city, raises first one friend and then another to higher grades of honor. Therefore, to adduce our reasons for expelling him, would be to say that he is kind, generous, liberal, and beloved by all. Now tell me, what law is there which forbids, disapproves, or condemns men for being pious, liberal, and benevolent? And though they are all modes adopted by those who aim at sovereignty, they are not believed to be such, nor have we sufficient power to make them to be so esteemed; for our conduct has robbed us of confidence, and the city, naturally partial and (having always lived in faction) corrupt, cannot lend its attention to such charges. But even if we were successful in an attempt to expel him (which might easily happen under a favorable Signory), how could we (being surrounded by his innumerable friends, who would constantly reproach us, and ardently desire to see him again in the city) prevent his return? It would be impossible for they being so numerous, and having the good will of all upon their side, we should never be secure from them. And as many of his first discovered friends as you might expel, so many enemies would you make, so that in a short time he would return, and the result would be simply this, that we had driven him out a good man and he had returned to us a bad one; for his nature would be corrupted by those who recalled him, and he, being under obligation, could not oppose them. Or should you design to put him to death, you could not attain your purpose with the magistrates, for his wealth, and the corruption of your minds, will always save him. But let us suppose him put to death, or that being banished, he did not return, I cannot see how the condition of our republic would be ameliorated; for if we relieve her from Cosmo, we at once make her subject to Rinaldo, and it is my most earnest desire that no citizen may ever, in power and authority, surpass the rest. But if one of these must prevail, I know of no reason that should make me prefer Rinaldo to Cosmo. I shall only say, may God preserve the city from any of her citizens usurping the sovereignty, but if our sins have deserved this, in mercy save us from Rinaldo. I pray thee, therefore, do not advise the adoption of a course on every account pernicious, nor imagine that, in union with a few, you would be able to oppose the will of the many; for the citizens, some from ignorance and others from malice, are ready to sell the republic at any time, and fortune has so much favored them, that they have found a purchaser. Take my advice then; endeavor to live moderately; and with regard to liberty, you will find as much cause for suspicion in our party as in that of our adversaries. And when troubles arise, being of neither side, you will be agreeable to both, and you will thus provide for your own comfort and do no injury to any.”

These words somewhat abated the eagerness of Barbadoro, so that tranquillity prevailed during the war with Lucca. But this being ended, and Niccolo da Uzzano dead, the city being at peace and under no restraint, unhealthy humors increased with fearful rapidity. Rinaldo, considering himself now the leader of the party, constantly entreated and urged every citizen whom he thought likely to be Gonfalonier, to take up arms and deliver the country from him who, from the malevolence of a few and the ignorance of the multitude, was inevitably reducing it to slavery. These practices of Rinaldo, and those of the contrary side, kept the city full of apprehension, so that whenever a magistracy was created, the numbers of each party composing it were made publicly known, and upon drawing for the Signory the whole city was aroused. Every case brought before the magistrates, however trivial, was made a subject of contention among them. Secrets were divulged, good and evil alike became objects of favor and opposition, the benevolent and the wicked were alike assailed, and no magistrate fulfilled the duties of his office with integrity.

In this state of confusion, Rinaldo, anxious to abate the power of Cosmo, and knowing that Bernardo Guadagni was likely to become Gonfalonier, paid his arrears of taxes, that he might not, by being indebted to the public, be incapacitated for holding the office. The drawing soon after took place, and fortune, opposed to our welfare, caused Bernardo to be appointed for the months of September and October. Rinaldo immediately waited upon him, and intimated how much the party of the nobility, and all who wished for repose, rejoiced to find he had attained that dignity; that it now rested with him to act in such a manner as to realize their pleasing expectations. He then enlarged upon the danger of disunion, and endeavored to show that there was no means of attaining the blessing of unity but by the destruction of Cosmo, for he alone, by the popularity acquired with his enormous wealth, kept them depressed; that he was already so powerful, that if not hindered, he would soon become prince, and that it was the part of a good citizen, in order to prevent such a calamity, to assemble the people in the piazza, and restore liberty to his country. Rinaldo then reminded the new Gonfalonier how Salvestro de’ Medici was able, though unjustly, to restrain the power of the Guelphs, to whom, by the blood of their ancestors, shed in its cause, the government rightly belonged; and argued that what he was able unjustly to accomplish against so many, might surely be easily performed with justice in its favor against one! He encouraged him with the assurance that their friends would be ready in arms to support him; that he need not regard the plebeians, who adored Cosmo, since their assistance would be of no greater avail than Giorgio Scali had found it on a similar occasion; and that with regard to his wealth, no apprehension was necessary, for when he was under the power of the Signory, his riches would be so too. In conclusion, he averred that this course would unite and secure the republic, and crown the Gonfalonier with glory. Bernardo briefly replied, that he thought it necessary to act exactly as Rinaldo had advised, and that as the time was suitable for action, he should provide himself with forces, being assured from what Rinaldo had said, he would be supported by his colleagues.

Bernardo entered upon the duties of his office, prepared his followers, and having concerted with Rinaldo, summoned Cosmo, who, though many friends dissuaded him from it, obeyed the call, trusting more to his own innocence than to the mercy of the Signory. As soon as he had entered the palace he was arrested. Rinaldo, with a great number of armed men, and accompanied by nearly the whole of his party, proceeded to the piazza, when the Signory assembled the people, and created a Balia of two hundred persons for the reformation of the city. With the least possible delay they entered upon the consideration of reform, and of the life or death of Cosmo. Many wished him to be banished, others to be put to death, and several were silent, either from compassion toward him or for fear of the rest, so that these differences prevented them from coming to any conclusion.

There is an apartment in the tower of the palace which occupies the whole of one floor, and is called the Alberghettino, in which Cosmo was confined, under the charge of Federigo Malavolti. In this place, hearing the assembly of the Councils, the noise of arms which proceeded from the piazza, and the frequent ringing of the bell to assemble the Balia, he was greatly apprehensive for his safety, but still more less his private enemies should cause him to be put to death in some unusual manner. He scarcely took any food, so that in four days he ate only a small quantity of bread, Federigo, observing his anxiety, said to him, “Cosmo, you are afraid of being poisoned, and are evidently hastening your end with hunger. You wrong me if you think I would be a party to such an atrocious act. I do not imagine your life to be in much danger, since you have so many friends both within the palace and without; but if you should eventually lose it, be assured they will use some other medium than myself for that purpose, for I will never imbue my hands in the blood of any, still less in yours, who never injured me; therefore cheer up, take some food, and preserve your life for your friends and your country. And that you may do so with greater assurance, I will partake of your meals with you.” These words were of great relief to Cosmo, who, with tears in his eyes, embraced and kissed Federigo, earnestly thanking him for so kind and affectionate conduct, and promising, if ever the opportunity were given him, he would not be ungrateful.

CHAPTER VII

Cosmo is banished to Padua — Rinaldo degli Albizzi attempts to restore the nobility — New disturbances occasioned by Rinaldo degli Albizzi — Rinaldo takes arms against the Signory — His designs are disconcerted — Pope Eugenius in Florence — He endeavors to reconcile the parties — Cosmo is recalled — Rinaldo and his party banished — Glorious return of Cosmo.

Cosmo in some degree recovered his spirits, and while the citizens were disputing about him, Federigo, by way of recreation, brought an acquaintance of the Gonfalonier to take supper with him, an amusing and facetious person, whose name was Il Farnagaccio. The repast being nearly over, Cosmo, who thought he might turn this visit to advantage, for he knew the man very intimately, gave a sign to Federigo to leave the apartment, and he, guessing the cause, under pretense of going for something that was wanted on the table, left them together. Cosmo, after a few friendly expressions addressed to Il Farnagaccio, gave him a small slip of paper, and desired him to go to the director of the hospital of Santa Maria Nuova, for one thousand one hundred ducats; he was to take the hundred for himself, and carry the thousand to the Gonfalonier, and beg that he would take some suitable occasion of coming to see him. Farnagaccio undertook the commission, the money was paid, Bernardo became more humane, and Cosmo was banished to Padua, contrary to the wish of Rinaldo, who earnestly desired his death. Averardo and many others of the house of Medici were also banished, and with them Puccio and Giovanni Pucci. To silence those who were dissatisfied with the banishment of Cosmo, they endowed with the power of a Balia, the Eight of War and the Capitano of the People. After his sentence, Cosmo on the third of October, 1433, came before the Signory, by whom the boundary to which he was restricted was specified; and they advised him to avoid passing it, unless he wished them to proceed with greater severity both against himself and his property. Cosmo received his sentence with a cheerful look, assuring the Signory that wherever they determined to send him, he would willingly remain. He earnestly begged, that as they had preserved his life they would protect it, for he knew there were many in the piazza who were desirous to take it; and assured them, that wherever he might be, himself and his means were entirely at the service of the city, the people, and the Signory. He was respectfully attended by the Gonfalonier, who retained him in the palace till night, then conducted him to his own house to supper, and caused him to be escorted by a strong armed force to his place of banishment. Wherever the cavalcade passed, Cosmo was honorably received, and was publicly visited by the Venetians, not as an exile, but with all the respect due to one in the highest station.

Florence, widowed of so great a citizen, one so generally beloved, seemed to be universally sunk in despondency; victors and the vanquished were alike in fear. Rinaldo, as if inspired with a presage of his future calamities, in order not to appear deficient to himself or his party, assembled many citizens, his friends, and informed them that he foresaw their approaching ruin for having allowed themselves to be overcome by the prayers, the tears, and the money of their enemies; and that they did not seem aware they would soon themselves have to entreat and weep, when their prayers would not be listened to, or their tears excite compassion; and that of the money received, they would have to restore the principal, and pay the interest in tortures, exile, and death; that it would have been much better for them to have done nothing than to have left Cosmo alive, and his friends in Florence; for great offenders ought either to remain untouched, or be destroyed; that there was now no remedy but to strengthen themselves in the city, so that upon the renewed attempts of their enemies, which would soon take place, they might drive them out with arms, since they had not sufficient civil authority to expel them. The remedy to be adopted, he said, was one that he had long before advocated, which was to regain the friendship of the grandees, restoring and conceding to them all the honors of the city, and thus make themselves strong with that party, since their adversaries had joined the plebeians. That by this means they would become the more powerful side, for they would possess greater energy, more comprehensive talent and an augmented share of influence; and that if this last and only remedy were not adopted, he knew not what other means could be made use of to preserve the government among so many enemies, or prevent their own ruin and that of the city.

Mariotto Baldovinetti, one of the assembly, was opposed to this plan, on account of the pride and insupportable nature of the nobility; and said, that it would be folly to place themselves again under such inevitable tyranny for the sake of avoiding imaginary dangers from the plebeians. Rinaldo, finding his advice unfavorably received, vexed at his own misfortune and that of his party, imputed the whole to heaven itself, which had resolved upon it, rather than to human ignorance and blunders. In this juncture of affairs, no remedial measure being attempted, a letter was found written by Agnolo Acciajuoli to Cosmo, acquainting him with the disposition of the city in his favor, and advising him, if possible, to excite a war, and gain the friendship of Neri di Gino; for he imagined the city to be in want of money, and as she would not find anyone to serve her, the remembrance of him would be revived in the minds of the citizens, and they would desire his return; and that if Neri were detached from Rinaldo, the party of the latter would be so weakened, as to be unable to defend themselves. This letter coming to the hands of the magistrates, Agnolo was taken, put to the torture, and sent into exile. This example, however, did not at all deter Cosmo’s party.

It was now almost a year since Cosmo had been banished, and the end of August, 1434, being come, Niccolo di Cocco was drawn Gonfalonier for the two succeeding months, and with him eight signors, all partisans of Cosmo. This struck terror into Rinaldo and his party; and as it is usual for three days to elapse before the new Signory assume the magistracy and the old resign their authority, Rinaldo again called together the heads of his party. He endeavored to show them their certain and immediate danger, and that their only remedy was to take arms, and cause Donato Velluti, who was yet Gonfalonier, to assemble the people in the piazza and create a Balia. He would then deprive the new Signory of the magistracy, appoint another, burn the present balloting purses, and by means of a new Squittini, provide themselves with friends. Many thought this course safe and requisite; others, that it was too violent, and likely to be attended with great evil. Among those who disliked it was Palla Strozzi, a peaceable, gentle, and humane person, better adapted for literary pursuits than for restraining a party, or opposing civil strife. He said that bold and crafty resolutions seem promising at their commencement, but are afterward found difficult to execute, and generally pernicious at their conclusion; that he thought the fear of external wars (the duke’s forces being upon the confines of Romagna), would occupy the minds of the Signory more than internal dissensions; but, still, if any attempt should be made, and it could not take place unnoticed, they would have sufficient time to take arms, and adopt whatever measures might be found necessary for the common good, which being done upon necessity, would occasion less excitement among the people and less danger to themselves. It was therefore concluded, that the new Signory should come in; that their proceedings should be watched, and if they were found attempting anything against the party, each should take arms, and meet in the piazza of San Pulinari, situated near the palace, and whence they might proceed wherever it was found necessary. Having come to this conclusion, Rinaldo’s friends separated.

The new Signory entered upon their office, and the Gonfalonier, in order to acquire reputation, and deter those who might intend to oppose him, sent Donato Velluti, his predecessor, to prison, upon the charge of having applied the public money to his own use. He then endeavored to sound his colleagues with respect to Cosmo: seeing them desirous of his return, he communicated with the leaders of the Medici party, and, by their advice, summoned the hostile chiefs, Rinaldo degli Albizzi, Ridolfo Peruzzi, and Niccolo Barbadoro. After this citation, Rinaldo thought further delay would be dangerous: he therefore left his house with a great number of armed men, and was soon joined by Ridolfo Peruzzi and Niccolo Barbadoro. The force accompanying them was composed of several citizens and a great number of disbanded soldiers then in Florence: and all assembled according to appointment in the piazza of San Pulinari. Palla Strozzi and Giovanni Guicciardini, though each had assembled a large number of men, kept in their houses; and therefore Rinaldo sent a messenger to request their attendance and to reprove their delay. Giovanni replied, that he should lend sufficient aid against their enemies, if by remaining at home he could prevent his brother Piero from going to the defense of the palace. After many messages Palla came to San Pulinari on horseback, accompanied by two of his people on foot, and unarmed. Rinaldo, on meeting him, sharply reproved him for his negligence, declaring that his refusal to come with the others arose either from defect of principle or want of courage; both of which charges should be avoided by all who wished to preserve such a character as he had hitherto possessed; and that if he thought this abominable conduct to his party would induce their enemies when victorious to spare him from death or exile, he deceived himself; but for himself (Rinaldo) whatever might happen, he had the consolation of knowing, that previously to the crisis he had never neglected his duty in council, and that when it occurred he had used every possible exertion to repel it with arms; but that Palla and the others would experience aggravated remorse when they considered they had upon three occasions betrayed their country; first when they saved Cosmo; next when they disregarded his advice; and now the third time by not coming armed in her defense according to their engagement. To these reproaches Palla made no reply audible to those around, but, muttering something as he left them, returned to his house.

The Signory, knowing Rinaldo and his party had taken arms, finding themselves abandoned, caused the palace to be shut up, and having no one to consult they knew not what course to adopt. However, Rinaldo, by delaying his coming to the piazza, having waited in expectation of forces which did not join him, lost the opportunity of victory, gave them courage to provide for their defense, and allowed many others to join them, who advised that means should be used to induce their adversaries to lay down their arms. Thereupon, some of the least suspected, went on the part of the Signory to Rinaldo, and said, they did not know what occasion they had given his friends for thus assembling in arms; that they never had any intention of offending him, and if they had spoken of Cosmo, they had no design of recalling him; so if their fears were thus occasioned they might at once be dispelled, for that if they came to the palace they would be graciously received, and all their complaints attended to. These words produced no change in Rinaldo’s purpose; he bade them provide for their safety by resigning their offices, and said that then the government of the city would be reorganized, for the mutual benefit of all.

It rarely happens, where authorities are equal and opinions contrary, that any good resolution is adopted. Ridolfo Peruzzi, moved by the discourse of the citizens, said, that all he desired was to prevent the return of Cosmo, and this being granted to them seemed a sufficient victory; nor would he, to obtain a greater, fill the city with blood; he would therefore obey the Signory; and accordingly went with his people to the palace, where he was received with a hearty welcome. Thus Rinaldo’s delay at San Pulinari, Palla’s want of courage, and Ridolfo’s desertion, deprived their party of all chance of success; while the ardor of the citizens abated, and the pope’s authority did not contribute to its revival.

Pope Eugenius was at this time at Florence, having been driven from Rome by the people. These disturbances coming to his knowledge, he thought it a duty suitable to his pastoral office to appease them, and sent the patriarch Giovanni Vitelleschi, Rinaldo’s most intimate friend, to entreat the latter to come to an interview with him, as he trusted he had sufficient influence with the Signory to insure his safety and satisfaction, without injury or bloodshed to the citizens. By his friend’s persuasion, Rinaldo proceeded with all his followers to Santa Maria Nuova, where the pope resided. Eugenius gave him to understand, that the Signory had empowered him to settle the differences between them, and that all would be arranged to his satisfaction, if he laid down his arms. Rinaldo, having witnessed Palla’s want of zeal, and the fickleness of Ridolfo Peruzzi, and no better course being open to him, placed himself in the pope’s hands, thinking that at all events the authority of his holiness would insure his safety. Eugenius then sent word to Niccolo Barbadoro, and the rest who remained without, that they were to lay down their arms, for Rinaldo was remaining with the pontiff, to arrange terms of agreement with the signors; upon which they immediately dispersed, and laid aside their weapons.

The Signory, seeing their adversaries disarmed, continued to negotiate an arrangement by means of the pope; but at the same time sent secretly to the mountains of Pistoia for infantry, which, with what other forces they could collect, were brought into Florence by night. Having taken possession of all the strong positions in the city, they assembled the people in the piazza and created a new balia, which, without delay, restored Cosmo and those who had been exiled with him to their country; and banished, of the opposite party, Rinaldo degli Albizzi, Ridolfo Peruzzi, Niccolo Barbadoro, and Palla Strozzi, with so many other citizens, that there were few places in Italy which did not contain some, and many others beyond her limits were full of them. By this and similar occurrences, Florence was deprived of men of worth, and of much wealth and industry.

The pope, seeing such misfortunes befall those who by his entreaties were induced to lay down their arms, was greatly dissatisfied, and condoled with Rinaldo on the injuries he had received through his confidence in him, but advised him to be patient, and hope for some favorable turn of fortune. Rinaldo replied, “The want of confidence in those who ought to have trusted me, and the great trust I have reposed in you, have ruined both me and my party. But I blame myself principally for having thought that you, who were expelled from your own country, could preserve me in mine. I have had sufficient experience of the freaks of fortune; and as I have never trusted greatly to prosperity, I shall suffer less inconvenience from adversity; and I know that when she pleases she can become more favorable. But if she should never change, I shall not be very desirous of living in a city in which individuals are more powerful than the laws; for that country alone is desirable in which property and friends may be safely enjoyed, not one where they may easily be taken from us, and where friends, from fear of losing their property, are compelled to abandon each other in their greatest need. Besides, it has always been less painful to good men to hear of the misfortunes of their country than to witness them; and an honorable exile is always held in greater esteem than slavery at home.” He then left the pope, and, full of indignation, blaming himself, his own measures, and the coldness of his friends, went into exile.

Cosmo, on the other hand, being informed of his recall, returned to Florence; and it has seldom occurred that any citizen, coming home triumphant from victory, was received by so vast a concourse of people, or such unqualified demonstrations of regard as he was upon his return from banishment; for by universal consent he was hailed as the benefactor of the people, and the FATHER OF HIS COUNTRY.

BOOK V

CHAPTER I

The vicissitudes of empires — The state of Italy — The military factions of Sforza and Braccio — The Bracceschi and the Sforzeschi attack the pope, who is expelled by the Romans — War between the pope and the duke of Milan — The Florentines and the Venetians assist the pope — Peace between the pope and the duke of Milan — Tyranny practiced by the party favorable to the Medici.

It may be observed, that provinces amid the vicissitudes to which they are subject, pass from order into confusion, and afterward recur to a state of order again; for the nature of mundane affairs not allowing them to continue in an even course, when they have arrived at their greatest perfection, they soon begin to decline. In the same manner, having been reduced by disorder, and sunk to their utmost state of depression, unable to descend lower, they, of necessity, reascend; and thus from good they gradually decline to evil, and from evil again return to good. The reason is, that valor produces peace; peace, repose; repose, disorder; disorder, ruin; so from disorder order springs; from order virtue, and from this, glory and good fortune. Hence, wise men have observed, that the age of literary excellence is subsequent to that of distinction in arms; and that in cities and provinces, great warriors are produced before philosophers. Arms having secured victory, and victory peace, the buoyant vigor of the martial mind cannot be enfeebled by a more excusable indulgence than that of letters; nor can indolence, with any greater or more dangerous deceit, enter a well regulated community. Cato was aware of this when the philosophers, Diogenes and Carneades, were sent ambassadors to the senate by the Athenians; for perceiving with what earnest admiration the Roman youth began to follow them, and knowing the evils that might result to his country from this specious idleness, he enacted that no philosopher should be allowed to enter Rome. Provinces by this means sink to ruin, from which, men’s sufferings having made them wiser, they again recur to order, if they be not overwhelmed by some extraordinary force. These causes made Italy, first under the ancient Tuscans, and afterward under the Romans, by turns happy and unhappy; and although nothing has subsequently arisen from the ruins of Rome at all corresponding to her ancient greatness (which under a well-organized monarchy might have been gloriously effected), still there was so much bravery and intelligence in some of the new cities and governments that afterward sprang up, that although none ever acquired dominion over the rest, they were, nevertheless, so balanced and regulated among themselves, as to enable them to live in freedom, and defend their country from the barbarians.

Among these governments, the Florentines, although they possessed a smaller extent of territory, were not inferior to any in power and authority; for being situated in the middle of Italy, wealthy, and prepared for action, they either defended themselves against such as thought proper to assail them, or decided victory in favor of those to whom they became allies. From the valor, therefore, of these new governments, if no seasons occurred of long-continued peace, neither were any exposed to the calamities of war; for that cannot be called peace in which states frequently assail each other with arms, nor can those be considered wars in which no men are slain, cities plundered, or sovereignties overthrown; for the practice of arms fell into such a state of decay, that wars were commenced without fear, continued without danger, and concluded without loss. Thus the military energy which is in other countries exhausted by a long peace, was wasted in Italy by the contemptible manner in which hostilities were carried on, as will be clearly seen in the events to be described from 1434 to 1494, from which it will appear how the barbarians were again admitted into Italy, and she again sunk under subjection to them. Although the transactions of our princes at home and abroad will not be viewed with admiration of their virtue and greatness like those of the ancients, perhaps they may on other accounts be regarded with no less interest, seeing what masses of high spirited people were kept in restraint by such weak and disorderly forces. And if, in detailing the events which took place in this wasted world, we shall not have to record the bravery of the soldier, the prudence of the general, or the patriotism of the citizen, it will be seen with what artifice, deceit, and cunning, princes, warriors, and leaders of republics conducted themselves, to support a reputation they never deserved. This, perhaps, will not be less useful than a knowledge of ancient history; for, if the latter excites the liberal mind to imitation, the former will show what ought to be avoided and decried.

Italy was reduced to such a condition by her rulers, that when, by consent of her princes, peace was restored, it was soon disturbed by those who retained their armies, so that glory was not gained by war nor repose by peace. Thus when the league and the duke of Milan agreed to lay aside their arms in 1433, the soldiers, resolved upon war, directed their efforts against the church. There were at this time two factions or armed parties in Italy, the Sforzesca and the Braccesca. The leader of the former was the Count Francesco, the son of Sforza, and of the latter, Niccolo Piccinino and Niccolo Fortebraccio. Under the banner of one or other of these parties almost all the forces of Italy were assembled. Of the two, the Sforzesca was in greatest repute, as well from the bravery of the count himself, as from the promise which the duke of Milan had made him of his natural daughter, Madonna Bianca, the prospect of which alliance greatly strengthened his influence. After the peace of Lombardy, these forces, from various causes attacked Pope Eugenius. Niccolo Fortebraccio was instigated by the ancient enmity which Braccio had always entertained against the church; the count was induced by ambition: so that Niccolo assailed Rome, and the count took possession of La Marca.

The Romans, in order to avoid the war, drove Pope Eugenius from their city: and he, having with difficulty escaped, came to Florence, where seeing the imminent danger of his situation, being abandoned by the princes (for they were unwilling again to take up arms in his cause, after having been so anxious to lay them aside), he came to terms with the count, and ceded to him the sovereignty of La Marca, although, to the injury of having occupied it, he had added insult; for in signing the place, from which he addressed letters to his agents, he said in Latin, according to the Latin custom, Ex Girfalco nostro Firmiano, invito Petro et Paulo. Neither was he satisfied with this concession, but insisted upon being appointed Gonfalonier of the church, which was also granted; so much more was Eugenius alarmed at the prospect of a dangerous war than of an ignominious peace. The count, having been thus been reconciled to the pontiff, attacked Niccolo Fortebraccio, and during many months various encounters took place between them, from all which greater injury resulted to the pope and his subjects, than to either of the belligerents. At length, by the intervention of the duke of Milan, an arrangement, by way of a truce, was made, by which both became princes in the territories of the church.

The war thus extinguished at Rome was rekindled in Romagna by Batista da Canneto, who at Bologna slew some of the family of the Grifoni, and expelled from the city the governor who resided there for the pope, along with others who were opposed to him. To enable himself to retain the government, he applied for assistance to Filippo; and the pope, to avenge himself for the injury, sought the aid of the Venetians and Florentines. Both parties obtained assistance, so that very soon two large armies were on foot in Romagna. Niccolo Piccinino commanded for the duke, Gattamelata and Niccolo da Tolentino for the Venetians and Florentines. They met near Imola, where a battle ensued, in which the Florentines and Venetians were routed, and Niccolo da Tolentino was sent prisoner to Milan where, either through grief for his loss or by some unfair means, he died in a few days.

The duke, on this victory, either being exhausted by the late wars, or thinking the League after their defeat would not be in haste to resume hostilities, did not pursue his good fortune, and thus gave the pope and his colleagues time to recover themselves. They therefore appointed the Count Francesco for their leader, and undertook to drive Niccolo Fortebraccio from the territories of the church, and thus terminate the war which had been commenced in favor of the pontiff. The Romans, finding the pope supported by so large an army, sought a reconciliation with him, and being successful, admitted his commissary into the city. Among the places possessed by Niccolo Fortebraccio, were Tivoli, Montefiascone, Citta di Castello, and Ascesi, to the last of which, not being able to keep the field, he fled, and the count besieged him there. Niccolo’s brave defense making it probable that the war would be of considerable duration, the duke deemed to necessary to prevent the League from obtaining the victory, and said that if this were not effected he would very soon have to look at the defense of his own territories. Resolving to divert the count from the siege, he commanded Niccolo Piccinino to pass into Tuscany by way of Romagna; and the League, thinking it more important to defend Tuscany than to occupy Ascesi, ordered the count to prevent the passage of Niccolo, who was already, with his army, at Furli. The count accordingly moved with his forces, and came to Cesena, having left the war of La Marca and the care of his own territories to his brother Lione; and while Niccolo Piccinino was endeavoring to pass by, and the count to prevent him, Fortebraccio attacked Lione with great bravery, made him prisoner, routed his forces, and pursuing the advantage of his victory, at once possessed himself of many places in La Marca. This circumstance greatly perplexed the count, who thought he had lost all his territories; so, leaving part of his force to check Piccinino, with the remainder he pursued Fortebraccio, whom he attacked and conquered. Fortebraccio was taken prisoner in the battle, and soon after died of his wounds. This victory restored to the pontiff all the places that had been taken from him by Fortebraccio, and compelled the duke of Milan to sue for peace, which was concluded by the intercession of Niccolo da Esta, marquis of Ferrara; the duke restoring to the church the places he had taken from her, and his forces retiring into Lombardy. Batista da Canneto, as in the case with all who retain authority only by the consent and forces of another, when the duke’s people had quitted Romagna, unable with his own power to keep possession of Bologna, fled, and Antonio Bentivogli, the head of the opposite party, returned to his country.

All this took place during the exile of Cosmo, after whose return, those who had restored him, and a great number of persons injured by the opposite party, resolved at all events to make themselves sure of the government; and the Signory for the months of November and December, not content with what their predecessors had done in favor of their party extended the term and changed the residences of several who were banished, and increased the number of exiles. In addition to these evils, it was observed that citizens were more annoyed on account of their wealth, their family connections or private animosities, than for the sake of the party to which they adhered, so that if these prescriptions had been accompanied with bloodshed, they would have resembled those of Octavius and Sylla, though in reality they were not without some stains; for Antonio di Bernardo Guadagni was beheaded, and four other citizens, among whom were Zanobi dei Belfratelli and Cosmo Barbadori, passing the confines to which they were limited, proceeded to Venice, where the Venetians, valuing the friendship of Cosmo de’ Medici more than their own honor, sent them prisoners to him, and they were basely put to death. This circumstance greatly increased the influence of that party, and struck their enemies with terror, finding that such a powerful republic would so humble itself to the Florentines. This, however, was supposed to have been done, not so much out of kindness to Cosmo, as to excite dissensions in Florence, and by means of bloodshed make greater certainty of division among the citizens, for the Venetians knew there was no other obstacle to their ambition so great as the union of her people.

The city being cleared of the enemies, or suspected enemies of the state, those in possession of the government now began to strengthen their party by conferring benefits upon such as were in a condition to serve them, and the family of the Alberti, with all who had been banished by the former government, were recalled. All the nobility, with few exceptions, were reduced to the ranks of the people, and the possessions of the exiles were divided among themselves, upon each paying a small acknowledgment. They then fortified themselves with new laws and provisos, made new Squittini, withdrawing the names of their adversaries from the purses, and filling them with those of their friends. Taking advice from the ruin of their enemies, they considered that to allow the great offices to be filled by mere chance of drawing, did not afford the government sufficient security, they therefore resolved that the magistrates possessing the power of life and death should always be chosen from among the leaders of their own party, and therefore that the Accoppiatori, or persons selected for the imborsation of the new Squittini, with the Signory who had to retire from office, should make the new appointments. They gave to eight of the guard authority to proceed capitally, and provided that the exiles, when their term of banishment was complete, should not be allowed to return, unless from the Signory and Colleagues, which were thirty-seven in number, the consent of thirty-four was obtained. It was made unlawful to write to or to receive letters from them; every word, sign, or action that gave offense to the ruling party was punished with the utmost rigor; and if there was still in Florence any suspected person whom these regulations did not reach, he was oppressed with taxes imposed for the occasion. Thus in a short time, having expelled or impoverished the whole of the adverse party, they established themselves firmly in the government. Not to be destitute of external assistance, and to deprive others of it, who might use it against themselves, they entered into a league, offensive and defensive, with the pope, the Venetians, and the duke of Milan.

CHAPTER II

Death of Giovanni II. — René of Anjou and Alfonso of Aragon aspire to the kingdom — Alfonso is routed and taken by the Genoese — Alfonso being a prisoner of the duke of Milan, obtains his friendship — The Genoese disgusted with the duke of Milan — Divisions among the Genoese — The Genoese, by means of Francesco Spinola, expel the duke’s governor — League against the duke of Milan — Rinaldo degli Albizzi advises the duke to make war against the Florentines — His discourse to the duke — The duke adopts measures injurious to the Florentines — Niccolo Piccinino appointed to command the duke’s forces — Preparations of the Florentines — Piccinino routed before Barga.

The affairs of Florence being in this condition, Giovanna, queen of Naples, died, and by her will appointed René of Anjou to be her successor. Alfonso, king of Aragon, was at this time in Sicily, and having obtained the concurrence of many barons, prepared to take possession of the kingdom. The Neapolitans, with whom a greater number of barons were also associated, favored René. The pope was unwilling that either of them should obtain it; but desired the affairs of Naples to be administered by a governor of his own appointing.

In the meantime Alfonso entered the kingdom, and was received by the duke of Sessa; he brought with him some princes, whom he had engaged in his service, with the design (already possessing Capua, which the prince of Taranto held in his name) of subduing the Neapolitans, and sent his fleet to attack Gaeta, which had declared itself in their favor. They therefore demanded assistance of the duke of Milan, who persuaded the Genoese to undertake their defense; and they, to satisfy the duke their sovereign, and protect the merchandise they possessed, both at Naples and Gaeta, armed a powerful fleet. Alfonso hearing of this, augmented his own naval force, went in person to meet the Genoese, and coming up with them near the island of Ponzio, an engagement ensued, in which the Aragonese were defeated, and Alfonso, with many of the princes of his suite, made prisoners, and sent by the Genoese to the Filippo.

This victory terrified the princes of Italy, who, being jealous of the duke’s power, thought it would give him a great opportunity of being sovereign of the whole country. But so contrary are the views of men, that he took a directly opposite course. Alfonso was a man of great sagacity, and as soon as an opportunity presented itself of communicating with Filippo, he proved to him how completely he contravened his own interests, by favoring René and opposing himself; for it would be the business of the former, on becoming king of Naples, to introduce the French into Milan; that in an emergency he might have assistance at hand, without the necessity of having to solicit a passage for his friends. But he could not possibly secure this advantage without effecting the ruin of the duke, and making his dominions a French province; and that the contrary of all this would result from himself becoming lord of Naples; for having only the French to fear, he would be compelled to love and caress, nay even to obey those who had it in their power to open a passage for his enemies. That thus the title of king of king of Naples would be with himself (Alfonso), but the power and authority with Filippo; so that it was much more the duke’s business than his own to consider the danger of one course and the advantage of the other; unless he rather wished to gratify his private prejudices than to give security to his dominions. In the one case he would be a free prince, in the other, placed between two powerful sovereigns, he would either be robbed of his territories or live in constant fear, and have to obey them like a slave. These arguments so greatly influenced the duke, that, changing his design, he set Alfonso at liberty, sent him honorably to Genoa and then to Naples. From thence the king went to Gaeta, which as soon as his liberation had become known, was taken possession of by some nobles of his party.

The Genoese, seeing that the duke, without the least regard for them, had liberated the king, and gained credit to himself through the dangers and expense which they had incurred; that he enjoyed all the honor of the liberation, and they were themselves exposed to the odium of the capture, and the injuries consequent upon the king’s defeat, were greatly exasperated. In the city of Genoa, while in the enjoyment of her liberty, a magistrate is created with the consent of the people, whom they call the Doge; not that he is absolutely a prince, or that he alone has the power of determining matters of government; but that, as the head of the state, he proposes those questions or subjects which have to be considered and determined by the magistrates and the councils. In that city are many noble families so powerful, that they are with great difficulty induced to submit to the authority of the law. Of these, the most powerful are the Fregosa and the Adorna, from whom arise the dissensions of the city, and the impotence of her civil regulations; for the possession of this high office being contested by means inadmissible in well-regulated communities, and most commonly with arms in their hands, it always occurs that one party is oppressed and the other triumphant; and sometimes those who fail in the pursuit have recourse to the arms of strangers, and the country they are not allowed to rule they subject to foreign authority. Hence it happens, that those who govern in Lombardy most commonly command in Genoa, as occurred at the time Alfonso of Aragon was made prisoner. Among the leading Genoese who had been instrumental in subjecting the republic to Filippo, was Francesco Spinola, who, soon after he had reduced his country to bondage, as always happens in such cases, became suspected by the duke. Indignant at this, he withdrew to a sort of voluntary exile at Gaeta, and being there when the naval expedition was in preparation, and having conducted himself with great bravery in the action, he thought he had again merited so much of the duke’s confidence as would obtain for him permission to remain undisturbed at Genoa. But the duke still retained his suspicions; for he could not believe that a vacillating defender of his own country’s liberty would be faithful to himself; and Francesco Spinola resolved again to try his fortune, and if possible restore freedom to his country, and honorable safety for himself; for he was there was no probability of regaining the forfeited affection of his fellow-citizens, but by resolving at his own peril to remedy the misfortunes which he had been so instrumental in producing. Finding the indignation against the duke universal, on account of the liberation of the king, he thought the moment propitious for the execution of his design. He communicated his ideas to some whom he knew to be similarly inclined, and his arguments ensured their co-operation.

The great festival of St. John the Baptist being come, when Arismeno, the new governor sent by the duke, was to enter Genoa, and he being already arrived, accompanied by Opicino, the former governor, and many Genoese citizens, Francesco Spinola thought further delay improper; and, issuing from his house with those acquainted with his design, all armed, they raised the cry of liberty. It was wonderful to see how eagerly the citizens and people assembled at the word; so that those who for any reason might be favorable to Filippo, not only had no time to arm, but scarcely to consider the means of escape. Arismeno, with some Genoese, fled to the fortress which was held for the duke, Opicino, thinking that if he could reach the palace, where two thousand men were in arms, and at his command, he might be able either to effect his own safety, or induce his friends to defend themselves, took that direction; but before he arrived at the piazza he was slain, his body divided into many pieces and scattered about the city. The Genoese having placed the government in the hands of free magistrates, in a few days recovered the castle, and the other strongholds possessed by the duke, and delivered themselves entirely from his yoke.

These transactions, though at first they had alarmed the princes of Italy with the apprehension that the duke would become too powerful, now gave them hope, seeing the turn they had taken, of being able to restrain him; and, notwithstanding the recent league, the Florentines and Venetians entered into alliance with the Genoese. Rinaldo degli Albizzi and the other leading Florentine exiles, observing the altered aspect of affairs, conceived hopes of being able to induce the duke to make war against Florence, and having arrived at Milan, Rinaldo addressed him in the following manner: “If we, who were once your enemies, come now confidently to supplicate your assistance to enable us to return to our country, neither you, nor anyone, who considers the course and vicissitudes of human affairs, can be at all surprised; for of our past conduct toward yourself and our present intentions toward our country, we can adduce palpable and abundant reasons. No good man will ever reproach another who endeavors to defend his country, whatever be his mode of doing so; neither have we had any design of injuring you, but only to preserve our country from detriment; and we appeal to yourself, whether, during the greatest victories of our league, when you were really desirous of peace, we were not even more anxious for it than yourself; so that we do not think we have done aught to make us despair altogether of favor from you. Nor can our country itself complain that we now exhort you to use those arms against her, from which we have so pertinaciously defended her; for that state alone merits the love of all her citizens, which cares with equal affection for all; not one that favors a few, and casts from her the great mass of her children. Nor are the arms that men use against their country to be universally condemned; for communities, although composed of many, resemble individual bodies; and as in these, many infirmities arise which cannot be cured without the application of fire or of steel, so in the former, there often occur such numerous and great evils, that a good and merciful citizen, when there is a necessity for the sword, would be much more to blame in leaving her uncured, than by using this remedy for her preservation. What greater disease can afflict a republic than slavery? and what remedy is more desirable for adoption than the one by which alone it can be effectually removed? No wars are just but those that are necessary; and force is merciful when it presents the only hope of relief. I know not what necessity can be greater than ours, or what compassion can exceed that which rescues our country from slavery. Our cause is therefore just, and our purpose merciful, as both yourself and we may be easily convinced. The amplest justice is on your side; for the Florentines have not hesitated, after a peace concluded with so much solemnity, to enter into league with those who have rebelled against you; so that if our cause is insufficient to excite you against them, let your own just indignation do so; and the more so, seeing the facility of the undertaking. You need be under no apprehension from the memory of the past, in which you may have observed the power of that people and their pertinency in self-defense; though these might reasonably excite fear, if they were still animated by the valor of former times. But now, all is entirely the reverse; for what power can be expected in a city that has recently expelled the greatest part of her wealth and industry? What indomitable resolution need be apprehended from the people whom so many and such recent enmities have disunited? The disunion which still prevails will prevent wealthy citizens advancing money as they used to do on former occasions; for though men willingly contribute according to their means, when they see their own credit, glory, and private advantage dependent upon it, or when there is a hope of regaining in peace what has been spent in war, but not when equally oppressed under all circumstances, when in war they suffer the injuries of the enemy, and in peace, the insolence of those who govern them. Besides this, the people feel more deeply the avarice of their rulers, than the rapacity of the enemy; for there is hope of being ultimately relieved from the latter evil, but none from the former. Thus, in the last war, you had to contend with the whole city; but now with only a small portion. You attempted to take the government from many good citizens; but now you oppose only a few bad ones. You then endeavored to deprive a city of her liberty, now you come to restore it. As it is unreasonable to suppose that under such disparity of circumstances, the result should be the same, you have now every reason to anticipate an easy victory; and how much it will strengthen your own government, you may easily judge; having Tuscany friendly, and bound by so powerful an obligation, in your enterprises, she will be even of more service to you than Milan. And, although, on former occasions, such an acquisition might be looked upon as ambitious and unwarrantable, it will now be considered merciful and just. Then do not let this opportunity escape, and be assured, that although your attempts against the city have been attended with difficulty, expense, and disgrace, this will with facility procure you incalculable advantage and an honorable renown.”

Many words were not requisite to induce the duke to hostilities against the Florentines, for he was incited to it by hereditary hatred and blind ambition, and still more, by the fresh injuries which the league with the Genoese involved; yet his past expenses, the dangerous measures necessary, the remembrance of his recent losses, and the vain hopes of the exiles, alarmed him. As soon as he had learned the revolt of Genoa, he ordered Niccolo Piccinino to proceed thither with all his cavalry and whatever infantry he could raise, for the purpose of recovering her, before the citizens had time to become settled and establish a government; for he trusted greatly in the fortress within the city, which was held for him. And although Niccolo drove the Genoese from the mountains, took from them the valley of Pozeveri, where they had entrenched themselves, and obliged them to seek refuge within the walls of the city, he still found such an insurmountable obstacle in the resolute defense of the citizens, that he was compelled to withdraw. On this, at the suggestion of the Florentine exiles, he commanded Niccolo to attack them on the eastern side, upon the confines of Pisa in the Genoese territory, and to push the war with his utmost vigor, thinking this plan would manifest and develop the course best to be adopted. Niccolo therefore besieged and took Serezana, and having committed great ravages, by way of further alarming the Florentines he proceeded to Lucca, spreading a report that it was his intention to go to Naples to render assistance to the king of Aragon. Upon these new events Pope Eugenius left Florence and proceeded to Bologna, where he endeavored to effect an amicable arrangement between the league and the duke, intimating to the latter, that if he would not consent to some treaty, the pontiff must send Francesco Sforza to assist the league, for the latter was now his confederate, and served in his pay. Although the pope greatly exerted himself in this affair, his endeavors were unavailing; for the duke would not listen to any proposal that did not leave him the possession of Genoa, and the league had resolved that she should remain free; and, therefore, each party, having no other resource, prepared to continue the war.

In the meantime Niccolo Piccinino arrived at Lucca, and the Florentines, being doubtful what course to adopt, ordered Neri di Gino to lead their forces into the Pisan territory, induced the pontiff to allow Count Francesco to join him, and with their forces they halted at San Gonda. Piccinino then demanded admission into the kingdom of Naples, and this being refused, he threatened to force a passage. The armies were equal, both in regard of numbers and the capacity of their leaders, and unwilling to tempt fortune during the bad weather, it being the month of December, they remained several days without attacking each other. The first movement was made by Niccolo Piccinino, who being informed that if he attacked Vico Pisano by night, he could easily take possession of the place, made the attempt, and having failed, ravaged the surrounding country, and then burned and plundered the town of San Giovanni alla Vena. This enterprise, though of little consequence, excited him to make further attempts, the more so from being assured that the count and Neri were yet in their quarters, and he attacked Santa Maria in Castello and Filetto, both which places he took. Still the Florentine forces would not stir; not that the count entertained any fear, but because, out of regard to the pope, who still labored to effect an accommodation, the government of Florence had deferred giving their final consent to the war. This course, which the Florentines adopted from prudence, was considered by the enemy to be only the result of timidity, and with increased boldness they led their forces up to Barga, which they resolved to besiege. This new attack made the Florentines set aside all other considerations, and resolve not only to relieve Barga, but to invade the Lucchese territory. Accordingly the count proceeded in pursuit of Niccolo, and coming up with him before Barga, an engagement took place, in which Piccinino was overcome, and compelled to raise the siege.

The Venetians considering the duke to have broken the peace, send Giovan Francesco da Gonzaga, their captain, to Ghiaradadda, who, by severely wasting the duke’s territories, induced him to recall Niccolo Piccinino from Tuscany. This circumstance, together with the victory obtained over Niccolo, emboldened the Florentines to attempt the recovery of Lucca, since the duke, whom alone they feared, was engaged with the Venetians, and the Lucchese having received the enemy into their city, and allowed him to attack them, would have no ground of complaint.

CHAPTER III

The Florentines go to war with Lucca — Discourse of a citizen of Lucca to animate the plebeians against the Florentines — The Lucchese resolve to defend themselves — They are assisted by the duke of Milan — Treaty between the Florentines and the Venetians — Francesco Sforza, captain of the league, refuses to cross the Po in the service of the Venetians and returns to Tuscany — The bad faith of the Venetians toward the Florentines — Cosmo de’ Medici at Venice — Peace between the Florentines and the Lucchese — The Florentines effect a reconciliation between the pope and the Count di Poppi — The pope consecrates the church of Santa Reparata — Council of Florence.

The count commenced operations against Lucca in April, 1437, and the Florentines, desirous of recovering what they had themselves lost before they attacked others, retook Santa Maria in Castello, and all the places which Piccinino had occupied. Then, entering the Lucchese territory, they besieged Camaiore, the inhabitants of which, although faithful to their rulers, being influenced more by immediate danger than by attachment to their distant friends, surrendered. In the same manner, they obtained Massa and Serezana. Toward the end of May they proceeded in the direction of Lucca, burning the towns, destroying the growing crops, grain, trees, and vines, driving away the cattle, and leaving nothing undone to injure the enemy. The Lucchese, finding themselves abandoned by the duke, and hopeless of defending the open country, forsook it; entrenched and fortified the city, which they doubted not, being well garrisoned, they would be able to defend for a time, and that, in the interim, some event would occur for their relief, as had been the case during the former wars which the Florentines had carried on against them. Their only apprehension arose from the fickle minds of the plebeians, who, becoming weary of the siege, would have more consideration of their own danger than of other’s liberty, and would thus compel them to submit to some disgraceful and ruinous capitulation. In order to animate them to defense, they were assembled in the public piazza, and some of the eldest and most esteemed of the citizens addressed them in the following terms: “You are doubtless aware that what is done from necessity involves neither censure nor applause; therefore, if you should accuse us of having caused the present war, by receiving the ducal forces into the city, and allowing them to commit hostilities against the Florentines, you are greatly mistaken. You are well acquainted with the ancient enmity of the Florentines against you, which is not occasioned by any injuries you have done them, or by fear on their part, but by our weakness and their own ambition; for the one gives them hope of being able to oppress us, and the other incites them to attempt it. It is then vain to imagine that any merit of yours can extinguish that desire in them, or that any offense you can commit, can provoke them to greater animosity. They endeavor to deprive you of your liberty; you must resolve to defend it; and whatever they may undertake against us for that purpose, although we may lament, we need not wonder. We may well grieve, therefore, that they attack us, take possession of our towns, burn our houses, and waste our country. But who is so simple as to be surprised at it? for were it in our power, we should do just the same to them, or even worse. They declare war against us now, they say, for having received Niccolo; but if we had not received him, they would have done the same and assigned some other ground for it; and if the evil had been delayed, it would most probably have been greater. Therefore, you must not imagine it to be occasioned by his arrival, but rather by your own ill fortune and their ambition; for we could not have refused admission to the duke’s forces, and, being come, we could not prevent their aggressions. You know, that without the aid of some powerful ally we are incapable of self-defense, and that none can render us this service more powerfully or faithfully than the duke. He restored our liberty; it is reasonable to expect he will defend it. He has always been the greatest foe of our inveterate enemies; if, therefore, to avoid incensing the Florentines we had excited his anger, we should have lost our best friend, and rendered our enemy more powerful and more disposed to oppress us; so that it is far preferable to have this war upon our hands, and enjoy the favor of the duke, than to be in peace without it. Besides, we are justified in expecting that he will rescue us from the dangers into which we are brought on his account, if we only do not abandon our own cause. You all know how fiercely the Florentines have frequently assailed us, and with what glory we have maintained our defense. We have often been deprived of every hope, except in God and the casualties which time might produce, and both have proved our friends. And as they have delivered us formerly, why should they not continue to do so. Then we were forsaken by the whole of Italy; now we have the duke in our favor; besides we have a right to suppose that the Venetians will not hastily attack us; for they will not willingly see the power of Florence increased. On a former occasion the Florentines were more at liberty; they had greater hope of assistance, and were more powerful in themselves, while we were in every respect weaker; for then a tyrant governed us, now we defend ourselves; then the glory of our defense was another’s, now it is our own; then they were in harmony, now they are disunited, all Italy being filled with their banished citizens. But were we without the hope which these favorable circumstances present, our extreme necessity should make us firmly resolved on our defense. It is reasonable to fear every enemy, for all seek their own glory and your ruin; above all others, you have to dread the Florentines, for they would not be satisfied by submission and tribute, or the dominion of our city, but they would possess our entire substance and persons, that they might satiate their cruelty with our blood, and their avarice with our property, so that all ranks ought to dread them. Therefore do not be troubled at seeing our crops destroyed, our towns burned, our fortresses occupied; for if we preserve the city, the rest will be saved as a matter of course; if we lose her, all else would be of no advantage to us; for while retaining our liberty, the enemy can hold them only with the greatest difficulty, while losing it they would be preserved in vain. Arm, therefore; and when in the fight, remember that the reward of victory will be safety, not only to your country, but to your homes, your wives, and your children.” The speaker’s last words were received with the utmost enthusiasm by the people, who promised one and all to die rather than abandon their cause, or submit to any terms that could violate their liberty. They then made arrangements for the defense of the city.

In the meantime, the Florentine forces were not idle; and after innumerable mischiefs done to the country took Monte Carlo by capitulation. They then besieged Uzzano, in order that the Lucchese, being pressed on all sides, might despair of assistance, and be compelled to submission by famine. The fortress was very strong, and defended by a numerous garrison, so that its capture would be by no means an easy undertaking. The Lucchese, as might be expected, seeing the imminent peril of their situation, had recourse to the duke, and employed prayers and remonstrances to induce him to render them aid. They enlarged upon their own merits and the offenses of the Florentines; and showed how greatly it would attach the duke’s friends to him to find they were defended, and how much disaffection it would spread among them, if they were left to be overwhelmed by the enemy; that if they lost their liberties and their lives, he would lose his honor and his friends, and forfeit the confidence of all who from affection might be induced to incur dangers in his behalf; and added tears to entreaties, so that if he were unmoved by gratitude to them, he might be induced to their defense by motives of compassion. The duke, influenced by his inveterate hostility against the Florentines, his new obligation to the Lucchese, and, above all, by his desire to prevent so great an acquisition from falling into the hands of his ancient enemies, determined either to send a strong force into Tuscany, or vigorously to assail the Venetians, so as to compel the Florentines to give up their enterprise and go to their relief.

It was soon known in Florence that the duke was preparing to send forces into Tuscany. This made the Florentines apprehensive for the success of their enterprise; and in order to retain the duke in Lombardy, they requested the Venetians to press him with their utmost strength. But they also were alarmed, the marquis of Mantua having abandoned them and gone over to the duke; and thus, finding themselves almost defenseless, they replied, “that instead of increasing their responsibilities, they should be unable to perform their part in the war, unless the Count Francesco were sent to them to take the command of the army, and with the special understanding that he should engage to cross the Po in person. They declined to fulfil their former engagements unless he were bound to do so; for they could not carry on the war without a leader, or repose confidence in any except the count; and he himself would be useless to them, unless he came under an obligation to carry on the war whenever they might think needful.” The Florentines thought the war ought to be pushed vigorously in Lombardy; but they saw that if they lost the count their enterprise against Lucca was ruined; and they knew well that the demand of the Venetians arose less from any need they had of the count, than from their desire to frustrate this expedition. The count, on the other hand, was ready to pass into Lombardy whenever the league might require him, but would not alter the tenor of his engagement; for he was unwilling to sacrifice the hope of the alliance promised to him by the duke.

The Florentines were thus embarrassed by two contrary impulses, the wish to possess Lucca, and the dread of a war with Milan. As commonly happens, fear was the most powerful, and they consented, after the capture of Uzzano, that the count should go into Lombardy. There still remained another difficulty, which, depending on circumstances beyond the reach of their influence, created more doubts and uneasiness than the former; the count would not consent to pass the Po, and the Venetians refused to accept him on any other condition. Seeing no other method of arrangement, than that each should make liberal concessions, the Florentines induced the count to cross the river by a letter addressed to the Signory of Florence, intimating that this private promise did not invalidate any public engagement, and that he might still refrain from crossing; hence it resulted that the Venetians, having commenced the war, would be compelled to proceed, and that the evil apprehended by the Florentines would be averted. To the Venetians, on the other hand, they averred that this private letter was sufficiently binding, and therefore they ought to be content; for if they could save the count from breaking with his father-in-law, it was well to do so, and that it could be of no advantage either to themselves or the Venetians to publish it without some manifest necessity. It was thus determined that the count should pass into Lombardy; and having taken Uzzano, and raised bastions about Lucca to restrain in her inhabitants, placed the management of the siege in the hands of the commissaries, crossed the Apennines, and proceeded to Reggio, when the Venetians, alarmed at his progress, and in order to discover his intentions, insisted upon his immediately crossing the Po, and joining the other forces. The count refused compliance, and many mutual recriminations took place between him and Andrea Mauroceno, their messenger on this occasion, each charging the other with arrogance and treachery: after many protestations, the one of being under no obligation to perform that service, and the other of not being bound to any payment, they parted, the count to return to Tuscany, the other to Venice.

The Florentines had sent the count to encamp in the Pisan territory, and were in hopes of inducing him to renew the war against the Lucchese, but found him indisposed to do so, for the duke, having been informed that out of regard to him he had refused to cross the Po, thought that by this means he might also save the Lucchese, and begged the count to endeavor to effect an accommodation between the Florentines and the Lucchese, including himself in it, if he were able, declaring, at the same time, the promised marriage should be solemnized whenever he thought proper. The prospect of this connection had great influence with the count, for, as the duke had no sons, it gave him hope of becoming sovereign of Milan. For this reason he gradually abated his exertions in the war, declared he would not proceed unless the Venetians fulfilled their engagement as to the payment, and also retained him in the command; that the discharge of the debt would not alone be sufficient, for desiring to live peaceably in his own dominions, he needed some alliance other than that of the Florentines, and that he must regard his own interests, shrewdly hinting that if abandoned by the Venetians, he would come to terms with the duke.

These indirect and crafty methods of procedure were highly offensive to the Florentines, for they found their expedition against Lucca frustrated, and trembled for the safety of their own territories if ever the count and the duke should enter into a mutual alliance. To induce the Venetians to retain the count in the command, Cosmo de’ Medici went to Venice, hoping his influence would prevail with them, and discussed the subject at great length before the senate, pointing out the condition of the Italian states, the disposition of their armies, and the great preponderance possessed by the duke. He concluded by saying, that if the count and the duke were to unite their forces, they (the Venetians) might return to the sea, and the Florentines would have to fight for their liberty. To this the Venetians replied, that they were acquainted with their own strength and that of the Italians, and thought themselves able at all events to provide for their own defense; that it was not their custom to pay soldiers for serving others; that as the Florentines had used the count’s services, they must pay him themselves; with respect to the security of their own states, it was rather desirable to check the count’s pride than to pay him, for the ambition of men is boundless, and if he were now paid without serving, he would soon make some other demand, still more unreasonable and dangerous. It therefore seemed necessary to curb his insolence, and not allow it to increase till it became incorrigible; and that if the Florentines, from fear or any other motive, wished to preserve his friendship, they must pay him themselves. Cosmo returned without having effected any part of his object.

The Florentines used the weightiest arguments they could adopt to prevent the count from quitting the service of the League, a course he was himself reluctant to follow, but his desire to conclude the marriage so embarrassed him, that any trivial accident would have been sufficient to determine his course, as indeed shortly happened. The count had left his territories in La Marca to the care of Il Furlano, one of his principal condottieri, who was so far influenced by the duke as to take command under him, and quit the count’s service. This circumstance caused the latter to lay aside every idea but that of his own safety, and to come to agreement with the duke; among the terms of which compact was one that he should not be expected to interfere in the affairs of Romagna and Tuscany. The count then urged the Florentines to come to terms with the Lucchese, and so convinced them of the necessity of this, that seeing no better course to adopt, they complied in April, 1438, by which treaty the Lucchese retained their liberty, and the Florentines Monte Carlo and a few other fortresses. After this, being full of exasperation, they despatched letters to every part of Italy, overcharged with complaints, affecting to show that since God and men were averse to the Lucchese coming under their dominion, they had made peace with them. And it seldom happens that any suffer so much for the loss of their own lawful property as they did because they could not obtain the possessions of others.

Though the Florentines had now so many affairs in hand, they did not allow the proceedings of their neighbors to pass unnoticed, or neglect the decoration of their city. As before observed, Niccolo Fortebraccio was dead. He had married a daughter of the Count di Poppi, who, at the decease of his son-in-law, held the Borgo San Sepolcro, and other fortresses of that district, and while Niccolo lived, governed them in his name. Claiming them as his daughter’s portion, he refused to give them up to the pope, who demanded them as property held of the church, and who, upon his refusal, sent the patriarch with forces to take possession of them. The count, finding himself unable to sustain the attack, offered them to the Florentines, who declined them; but the pope having returned to Florence, they interceded with him in the count’s behalf. Difficulties arising, the patriarch attacked the Casentino, took Prato Vecchio, and Romena, and offered them also to the Florentines, who refused them likewise, unless the pope would consent they should restore them to the count, to which, after much hesitation, he acceded, on condition that the Florentines should prevail with the Count di Poppi to restore the Borgo to him. The pope was thus satisfied, and the Florentines having so far completed the building of their cathedral church of Santa Reparata, which had been commenced long ago, as to enable them to perform divine service in it, requested his holiness to consecrate it. To this the pontiff willingly agreed, and the Florentines, to exhibit the wealth of the city and the splendor of the edifice, and do greater honor to the pope, erected a platform from Santa Maria Novella, where he resided, to the cathedral he was about to consecrate, six feet in height and twelve feet wide, covered with rich drapery, for the accommodation of the pontiff and his court, upon which they proceeded to the building, accompanied by those civic magistrates, and other officers who were appointed to take part in the procession. The usual ceremonies of consecration having been completed, the pope, to show his affection for the city, conferred the honor of knighthood upon Giuliano Davanzati, their Gonfalonier of Justice, and a citizen of the highest reputation; and the Signory, not to appear less gracious than the pope, granted to the new created knight the government of Pisa for one year.

There were at that time certain differences between the Roman and the Greek churches, which prevented perfect conformity in divine service; and at the last council of Bâle, the prelates of the Western church having spoken at great length upon the subject, it was resolved that efforts should be made to bring the emperor and the Greek prelates to the council at Bâle, to endeavor to reconcile the Greek church with the Roman. Though this resolution was derogatory to the majesty of the Greek empire, and offensive to its clergy, yet being then oppressed by the Turks, and fearing their inability for defense, in order to have a better ground for requesting assistance, they submitted; and therefore, the emperor, the patriarch, with other prelates and barons of Greece, to comply with the resolution of the council, assembled at Bâle, came to Venice; but being terrified by the plague then prevailing, it was resolved to terminate their differences at Florence. The Roman and Greek prelates having held a conference during several days, in which many long discussions took place, the Greeks yielded, and agreed to adopt the ritual of the church of Rome.

CHAPTER IV

New wars in Italy — Niccolo Piccinino, in concert with the duke of Milan, deceives the pope, and takes many places from the church — Niccolo attacks the Venetians — Fears and precautions of the Florentines — The Venetians request assistance of the Florentines and of Sforza — League against the duke of Milan — The Florentines resolve to send the count to assist the Venetians — Neri di Gino Capponi at Venice — His discourse to the senate — Extreme joy of the Venetians.

Peace being restored between the Lucchese and Florentines, and the duke and the count having become friends, hopes were entertained that the arms of Italy would be laid aside, although those in the kingdom of Naples, between René of Anjou and Alfonso of Aragon, could find repose only by the ruin of one party or the other. And though the pope was dissatisfied with the loss of so large a portion of his territories, and the ambition of the duke and the Venetians was obvious, still it was thought that the pontiff, from necessity, and the others from weariness, would be advocates of peace. However, a different state of feeling prevailed, for neither the duke nor the Venetians were satisfied with their condition; so that hostilities were resumed, and Lombardy and Tuscany were again harassed by the horrors of war. The proud mind of the duke could not endure that the Venetians should possess Bergamo and Brescia, and he was still further annoyed, by hearing, that they were constantly in arms, and in the daily practice of annoying some portion of his territories. He thought, however, that he should not only be able to restrain them, but to recover the places he had lost, if the pope, the Florentines, and the count could be induced to forego the Venetian alliance. He therefore resolved to take Romagna from the pontiff, imagining that his holiness could not injure him, and that the Florentines, finding the conflagration so near, either for their own sake would refrain from interference, or if they did not, could not conveniently attack him. The duke was also aware of the resentment of the Florentines against the Venetians, on account of the affair of Lucca, and he therefore judged they would be the less eager to take arms against him on their behalf. With regard to the Count Francesco, he trusted that their new friendship, and the hope of his alliance would keep him quiet. To give as little color as possible for complaint, and to lull suspicion, particularly, because in consequence of his treaty with the count, the latter could not attack Romagna, he ordered Niccolo Piccinino, as if instigated by his own ambition to do so.

When the agreement between the duke and the count was concluded, Niccolo was in Romagna, and in pursuance of his instructions from the duke, affected to be highly incensed, that a connection had been established between him and the count, his inveterate enemy. He therefore withdrew himself and his forces to Camurata, a place between Furli and Ravenna, which he fortified, as if designing to remain there some time, or till a new enterprise should present itself. The report of his resentment being diffused, Niccolo gave the pope to understand how much the duke was under obligation to him, and how ungrateful he proved; and he was persuaded that, possessing nearly all the arms of Italy, under the two principal generals, he could render himself sole ruler: but if his holiness pleased, of the two principal generals whom he fancied he possessed, one would become his enemy, and the other be rendered useless; for, if money were provided him, and he were kept in pay, he would attack the territories held of the church by the count, who being compelled to look to his own interests, could not subserve the ambition of Filippo. The pope giving entire credence to this representation, on account of its apparent reasonableness, sent Niccolo five thousand ducats and loaded him with promises of states for himself and his children. And though many informed him of the deception, he could not give credit to them, nor would he endure the conversation of any who seemed to doubt the integrity of Niccolo’s professions. The city of Ravenna was held for the church by Ostasio da Polenta. Niccolo finding further delay would be detrimental, since his son Francesco had, to the pope’s great dishonor, pillaged Spoleto, determined to attack Ravenna, either because he judged the enterprise easy, or because he had a secret understanding with Ostasio, for in a few days after the attack, the place capitulated. He then took Bologna, Imola, and Furli; and (what is worthy of remark) of twenty fortresses held in that country for the pope, not one escaped falling into his hands. Not satisfied with these injuries inflicted on the pontiff, he resolved to banter him by his words as well as ridicule him by his deeds, and wrote, that he had only done as his holiness deserved, for having unblushingly attempted to divide two such attached friends as the duke and himself, and for having dispersed over Italy letters intimating that he had quitted the duke to take part with the Venetians. Having taken possession of Romagna, Niccolo left it under the charge of his son, Francesco, and with the greater part of his troops, went into Lombardy, where joining the remainder of the duke’s forces, he attacked the country about Brescia, and having soon completely conquered it, besieged the city itself.

The duke, who desired the Venetians to be left defenseless, excused himself to the pope, the Florentines, and the count, saying, that if the doings of Niccolo were contrary to the terms of the treaty, they were equally contrary to his wishes, and by secret messengers, assured them that when an occasion presented itself, he would give them a convincing proof that they had been performed in disobedience to his instructions. Neither the count nor the Florentines believed him, but thought, with reason, that these enterprises had been carried on to keep them at bay, till he had subdued the Venetians, who, being full of pride, and thinking themselves able alone to resist the duke, had not deigned to ask for any assistance, but carried on the war under their captain, Gattamelata.

Count Francesco would have wished, with the consent of the Florentines, to go to the assistance of king René, if the events of Romagna and Lombardy had not hindered him; and the Florentines would willingly have consented, from their ancient friendship to the French dynasty, but the duke was entirely in favor of Alfonso. Each being engaged in wars near home, refrained from distant undertakings. The Florentines, finding Romagna occupied with the duke’s forces, and the Venetians defeated, as if foreseeing their own ruin in that of others, entreated the count to come to Tuscany, where they might consider what should be done to resist Filippo’s power, which was now greater than it had ever before been; assuring him that if his insolence were not in some way curbed, all the powers of Italy would soon have to submit to him. The count felt the force of the fears entertained by the Florentines, but his desire to secure the duke’s alliance kept him in suspense; and the duke, aware of this desire, gave him the greatest assurance that his hopes would be realized as shortly as possible, if he abstained from hostilities against him. As the lady was now of marriageable age, the duke had frequently made all suitable preparations for the celebration of the ceremony, but on one pretext or another they had always been wholly set aside. He now, to give the count greater confidence, added deeds to his words, and sent him thirty thousand florins, which, by the terms of the marriage contract, he had engaged to pay.

Still the war in Lombardy proceeded with greater vehemence than ever; the Venetians constantly suffered fresh losses of territory, and the fleets they equipped upon the rivers were taken by the duke’s forces; the country around Verona and Brescia was entirely occupied, and the two cities themselves so pressed, that their speedy fall was generally anticipated. The marquis of Mantua, who for many years had led the forces of their republic, quite unexpectedly resigned his command, and went over to the duke’s service. Thus the course which pride prevented them from adopting at the commencement of the war, fear compelled them to take during its progress; for knowing there was no help for them but in the friendship of the Florentines and the count, they began to make overtures to obtain it, though with shame and apprehension; for they were afraid of receiving a reply similar to that which they had given the Florentines, when the latter applied for assistance in the enterprise against Lucca and the count’s affairs. However, they found the Florentines more easily induced to render aid than they expected, or their conduct deserved; so much more were the former swayed by hatred of their ancient enemy, than by resentment of the ingratitude of their old and habitual friends. Having foreseen the necessity into which the Venetians must come, they had informed the count that their ruin must involve his own; that he was deceived if he thought the duke, while fortune, would esteem him more than if he were in adversity; that the duke was induced to promise him his daughter by the fear he entertained of him; that what necessity occasions to be promised, it also causes to be performed; and it was therefore desirable to keep the duke in that necessity, which could be done without supporting the power of the Venetians. Therefore he might perceive, that if the Venetians were compelled to abandon their inland territories, he would not only lose the advantages derivable from them, but also those to be obtained from such as feared them; and that if he considered well the powers of Italy, he would see that some were poor, and others hostile; that the Florentines alone were not, as he had often said, sufficient for his support; so that on every account it was best to keep the Venetians powerful by land. These arguments, conjoined with the hatred which the count had conceived against Filippo, by supposing himself duped with regard to the promised alliance, induced him to consent to a new treaty; but still he would not consent to cross the Po. The agreement was concluded in February, 1438; the Venetians agreeing to pay two-thirds of the expense of the war, the Florentines one-third, and each engaging to defend the states which the count possessed in La Marca. Nor were these the only forces of the league, for the lord of Faenza, the sons of Pandolfo Malatesti da Rimino and Pietro Giampagolo Orsini also joined them. They endeavored, by very liberal offers, to gain over the marquis of Mantua, but could not prevail against the friendship and stipend of the duke; and the lord of Faenza, after having entered into compact with the league, being tempted by more advantageous terms, went over to him. This made them despair of being able to effect an early settlement of the troubles of Romagna.

The affairs of Lombardy were in this condition: Brescia was so closely besieged by the duke’s forces, that constant apprehensions were entertained of her being compelled by famine to a surrender; while Verona was so pressed, that a similar fate was expected to await her, and if one of these cities were lost, all the other preparations for the war might be considered useless, and the expenses already incurred as completely wasted. For this there was no remedy, but to send the count into Lombardy; and to this measure three obstacles presented themselves. The first was, to induce him to cross the Po, and prosecute the war in whatever locality might be found most advisable; the second, that the count being at a distance, the Florentines would be left almost at the mercy of the duke, who, issuing from any of his fortresses, might with part of his troops keep the count at bay, and with the rest introduce into Tuscany the Florentine exiles, whom the existing government already dreaded; the third was, to determine what route the count should take to arrive safely in the Paduan territory, and join the Venetian forces. Of these three difficulties, the second, which particularly regarded the Florentines, was the most serious; but, knowing the necessity of the case, and wearied out by the Venetians, who with unceasing importunity demanded the count, intimating that without him they should abandon all hope, they resolved to relieve their allies rather than listen to the suggestions of their own fears. There still remained the question about the route to be taken, for the safety of which they determined the Venetians should provide; and as they had sent Neri Capponi to treat with the count and induce him to cross the Po, they determined that the same person should also proceed to Venice, in order to make the benefit the more acceptable to the Signory, and see that all possible security were given to the passage of the forces.

Neri embarked at Cesena and went to Venice; nor was any prince ever received with so much honor as he was; for upon his arrival, and the matters which his intervention was to decide and determine, the safety of the republic seemed to depend. Being introduced to the senate, and in presence of the Doge, he said, “The Signory of Florence, most serene prince, has always perceived in the duke’s greatness the source of ruin both to this republic and our own, and that the safety of both states depends upon their separate strength and mutual confidence. If such had been the opinion of this illustrious Signory, we should ourselves have been in better condition, and your republic would have been free from the dangers that now threaten it. But as at the proper crisis you withheld from us confidence and aid, we could not come to the relief of your distress, nor could you, being conscious of this, freely ask us; for neither in your prosperity nor adversity have you clearly perceived our motives. You have not observed, that those whose deeds have once incurred our hatred, can never become entitled to our regard; nor can those who have once merited our affection ever after absolutely cancel their claim. Our attachment to your most serene Signory is well known to you all, for you have often seen Lombardy filled with our forces and our money for your assistance. Our hereditary enmity to Filippo and his house is universally known, and it is impossible that love or hatred, strengthened by the growth of years, can be eradicated from our minds by any recent act either of kindness or neglect. We have always thought, and are still of the same opinion, that we might now remain neutral, greatly to the duke’s satisfaction, and with little hazard to ourselves; for if by your ruin he were to become lord of Lombardy, we should still have sufficient influence in Italy in free us from any apprehension on our own account; for every increase of power and territory augments that animosity and envy, from which arise wars and the dismemberment of states. We are also aware what heavy expenses and imminent perils we should avoid, by declining to involve ourselves in these disputes; and how easily the field of battle may be transferred from Lombardy to Tuscany, by our interference in your behalf. Yet all these apprehensions are at once overborne by our ancient affection for the senate and people of Venice, and we have resolved to come to your relief with the same zeal with which we should have armed in our own defense, had we been attacked. Therefore, the senate of Florence, judging it primarily necessary to relieve Verona and Brescia, and thinking this impossible without the count, have sent me, in the first instance, to persuade him to pass into Lombardy, and carry on the war wherever it may be most needful; for you are aware he is under no obligation to cross the Po. To induce him to do so, I have advanced such arguments as are suggested by the circumstances themselves, and which would prevail with us. He, being invincible in arms, cannot be surpassed in courtesy, and the liberality he sees the Florentines exercise toward you, he has resolved to outdo; for he is well aware to what dangers Tuscany will be exposed after his departure, and since we have made your affairs our primary consideration, he has also resolved to make his own subservient to yours. I come, therefore, to tender his services, with seven thousand cavalry and two thousand infantry, ready at once to march against the enemy, wherever he may be. And I beg of you, so do my lords at Florence and the count, that as his forces exceed the number he has engaged to furnish you, out of your liberality, would remunerate him, that he may not repent of having come to your assistance, nor we, who have prevailed with him to do so.” This discourse of Neri to the senate was listened to with that profound attention which an oracle might be imagined to command; and his audience were so moved by it, that they could not restrain themselves, till the prince had replied, as strict decorum on such occasions required, but rising from their seats, with uplifted hands, and most of them with tears in their eyes, they thanked the Florentines for their generous conduct, and the ambassador for his unusual dispatch; and promised that time should never cancel the remembrance of such goodness, either in their own hearts, or their children’s; and that their country, thenceforth, should be common to the Florentines with themselves.

CHAPTER V

Francesco Sforza marches to assist the Venetians, and relieves Verona — He attempts to relieve Brescia but fails — The Venetians routed by Piccinino upon the Lake of Garda — Piccinino routed by Sforza; the method of his escape — Piccinino surprises Verona — Description of Verona — Recovered by Sforza — The duke of Milan makes war against the Florentines — Apprehensions of the Florentines — Cardinal Vitelleschi their enemy.

When their demonstrations of gratitude had subsided, the Venetian senate, by the aid of Neri di Gino, began to consider the route the count ought to take, and how to provide him with necessaries. There were four several roads; one by Ravenna, along the beach, which on account of its being in many places interrupted by the sea and by marshes, was not approved. The next was the most direct, but rendered inconvenient by a tower called the Uccellino, which being held for the duke, it would be necessary to capture; and to do this, would occupy more time than could be spared with safety to Verona and Brescia. The third was by the brink of the lake; but as the Po had overflowed its banks, to pass in this direction was impossible. The fourth was by the way of Bologna to Ponte Puledrano, Cento, and Pieve; then between the Bondeno and the Finale to Ferrara, and thence they might by land or water enter the Paduan territory, and join the Venetian forces. This route, though attended with many difficulties, and in some parts liable to be disputed by the enemy, was chosen as the least objectionable. The count having received his instructions, commenced his march, and by exerting the utmost celerity, reached the Paduan territory on the twentieth of June. The arrival of this distinguished commander in Lombardy filled Venice and all her dependencies with hope; for the Venetians, who only an instant before had been in fear for their very existence, began to contemplate new conquests.

The count, before he made any other attempt, hastened to the relief of Verona; and to counteract his design, Niccolo led his forces to Soave, a castle situated between the Vincentino and the Veronese, and entrenched himself by a ditch that extended from Soave to the marshes of the Adige. The count, finding his passage by the plain cut off, resolved to proceed by the mountains, and thus reach Verona, thinking Niccolo would imagine this way to be so rugged and elevated as to be impracticable, or if he thought otherwise, he would not be in time to prevent him; so, with provisions for eight days, he took the mountain path, and with his forces, arrived in the plain, below Soave. Niccolo had, even upon this route, erected some bastions for the purpose of preventing him, but they were insufficient for the purpose; and finding the enemy had, contrary to his expectations, effected a passage, to avoid a disadvantageous engagement he crossed to the opposite side of the Adige, and the count entered Verona without opposition.

Having happily succeeded in his first project, that of relieving Verona, the count now endeavored to render a similar service to Brescia. This city is situated so close to the Lake of Garda, that although besieged by land, provisions may always be sent into it by water. On this account the duke had assembled a large force in the immediate vicinity of the lake, and at the commencement of his victories occupied all the places which by its means might relieve Brescia. The Venetians also had galleys upon the lake, but they were unequal to a contest with those of the duke. The count therefore deemed it advisable to aid the Venetian fleet with his land forces, by which means he hoped to obtain without much difficulty those places which kept Brescia in blockade. He therefore encamped before Bardolino, a fortress situated upon the lake, trusting that after it was taken the others would surrender. But fortune opposed this design, for a great part of his troops fell sick; so, giving up the enterprise, he went to Zevio, a Veronese castle, in a healthy and plentiful situation. Niccolo, upon the count’s retreat, not to let slip an opportunity of making himself master of the lake, left his camp at Vegasio, and with a body of picked men took the way thither, attacked the Venetian fleet with the utmost impetuosity, and took nearly the whole of it. By this victory almost all the fortresses upon the lake fell into his hands.

The Venetians, alarmed at this loss, and fearing that in consequence of it Brescia would surrender, solicited the count, by letters and messengers, to go to its relief; and he, perceiving that all hope of rendering assistance from the lake was cut off, and that to attempt an approach by land, on account of the ditches, bastions, and other defenses erected by Niccolo, was marching to certain destruction, determined that as the passage by the mountains had enabled him to relieve Verona, it should also contribute to the preservation of Brescia. Having taken this resolution, the count left Zevio, and by way of the Val d’Acri went to the Lake of St. Andrea, and thence to Torboli and Peneda, upon the Lake of Garda. He then proceeded to Tenna, and besieged the fortress, which it was necessary to occupy before he could reach Brescia.

Niccolo, on being acquainted with the count’s design, led his army to Peschiera. He then, with the marquis of Mantua and a chosen body of men, went to meet him, and coming to an engagement, was routed, his people dispersed, and many of them taken, while others fled to the fleet, and some to the main body of his army. It was now nightfall, and Niccolo had escaped to Tenna, but he knew that if he were to remain there till morning, he must inevitably fall into the enemy’s hands; therefore, to avoid a catastrophe which might be regarded as almost fatal, he resolved to make a dangerous experiment. Of all his attendants he had only with him a single servant, a Dutchman, of great personal strength, and who had always been devotedly attached to him. Niccolo induced this man to take him upon his shoulders in a sack, as if he had been carrying property of his master’s, and to bear him to a place of security. The enemy’s lines surrounded Tenna, but on account of the previous day’s victory, all was in disorder, and no guard was kept, so that the Dutchman, disguised as a trooper, passed through them without any opposition, and brought his master in safety to his own troops.

Had this victory been as carefully improved as it was fortunately obtained, Brescia would have derived from it greater relief and the Venetians more permanent advantage; but they, having thoughtlessly let it slip, the rejoicings were soon over, and Brescia remained in her former difficulties. Niccolo, having returned to his forces, resolved by some extraordinary exertion to cancel the impression of his death, and deprive the Venetians of the change of relieving Brescia. He was acquainted with the topography of the citadel of Verona, and had learned from prisoners whom he had taken, that it was badly guarded, and might be very easily recovered. He perceived at once that fortune presented him with an opportunity of regaining the laurels he had lately lost, and of changing the joy of the enemy for their recent victory into sorrow for a succeeding disaster. The city of Verona is situated in Lombardy, at the foot of the mountains which divide Italy from Germany, so that it occupies part both of hill and plain. The river Adige rises in the valley of Trento, and entering Italy, does not immediately traverse the country, but winding to the left, along the base of the hills, enters Verona, and crosses the city, which it divides unequally, giving much the larger portion to the plain. On the mountain side of the river are two fortresses, formidable rather from their situation than from their actual strength, for being very elevated they command the whole place. One is called San Piero, the other San Felice. On the opposite side of the Adige, upon the plain, with their backs against the city walls, are two other fortresses, about a mile distant from each other, one called the Old the other the New Citadel, and a wall extends between them that may be compared to a bowstring, of which the city wall is the arc. The space comprehended within this segment is very populous, and is called the Borgo of St. Zeno. Niccolo Piccinino designed to capture these fortresses and the Borgo, and he hoped to succeed without much difficulty, as well on account of the ordinary negligence of the guard, which their recent successes would probably increase, as because in war no enterprise is more likely to be successful than one which by the enemy is deemed impossible. With a body of picked men, and accompanied by the marquis of Mantua, he proceeded by night to Verona, silently scaled the walls, and took the New Citadel: then entering the place with his troops, he forced the gate of S. Antonio, and introduced the whole of his cavalry. The Venetian garrison of the Old Citadel hearing an uproar, when the guards of the New were slaughtered, and again when the gate was forced, being now aware of the presence of enemies, raised an alarm, and called the people to arms. The citizens awaking in the utmost confusion, some of the boldest armed and hastened to the rector’s piazza. In the meantime, Niccolo’s forces had pillaged the Borgo of San Zeno; and proceeding onward were ascertained by the people to be the duke’s forces, but being defenseless they advised the Venetian rectors to take refuge in the fortresses, and thus save themselves and the place; as it was more advisable to preserve their lives and so rich a city for better fortune, than by endeavoring to repel the present evil, encounter certain death, and incur universal pillage. Upon this the rectors and all the Venetian party, fled to the fortress of San Felice. Some of the first citizens, anxious to avoid being plundered by the troops, presented themselves before Niccolo and the marquis of Mantua, and begged they would rather take possession of a rich city, with honor to themselves, than of a poor one to their own disgrace; particularly as they had not induced either the favor of its former possessors, or the animosity of its present masters, by self-defense. The marquis and Niccolo encouraged them, and protected their property to the utmost of their power during such a state of military license. As they felt sure the count would endeavor to recover the city, they made every possible exertion to gain possession of the fortresses, and those they could not seize they cut off from the rest of the place by ditches and barricades, so that the enemy might be shut out.

The Count Francesco was with his army at Tenna; and when the report was first brought to him he refused to credit it; but being assured of the fact by parties whom it would have been ridiculous to doubt, he resolved, by the exertion of uncommon celerity, to repair the evil negligence had occasioned; and though all his officers advised the abandonment of Verona and Brescia, and a march to Vicenza, lest he might be besieged by the enemy in his present situation, he refused, but resolved to attempt the recovery of Verona. During the consultation, he turned to the Venetian commissaries and to Bernardo de’ Medici, who was there as commissary for the Florentines, and promised them the recovery of the place if one of the fortresses should hold out. Having collected his forces, he proceeded with the utmost speed to Verona. Observing his approach, Niccolo thought he designed, according to the advice he had received, to go to Vicenza, but finding him continue to draw near, and taking the direction of San Felice, he prepared for its defense — though too late; for the barricades were not completed; his men were dispersed in quest of plunder, or extorting money from the inhabitants by way of ransom; and he could not collect them in time to prevent the count’s troops from entering the fortress. They then descended into the city, which they happily recovered, to Niccolo’s disgrace, and with the loss of great numbers of his men. He himself, with the marquis of Mantua, first took refuge in the citadel, and thence escaping into the country, fled to Mantua, where, having assembled the relics of their army, they hastened to join those who were at the siege of Brescia. Thus in four days Verona was lost and again recovered from the duke. The count, after this victory, it being now winter and the weather very severe, having first with considerable difficulty thrown provisions into Brescia, went into quarters at Verona, and ordered, that during the cold season, galleys should be provided at Torboli, that upon the return of spring, they might be in a condition to proceed vigorously to effect the permanent relief of Brescia.

The duke, finding the war suspended for a time, the hope he had entertained of occupying Brescia and Verona annihilated, and the money and counsels of the Florentines the cause of this, and seeing that neither the injuries they had received from the Venetians could alienate them, nor all the promises he had made attach them to himself, he determined, in order to make them feel more closely the effects of the course they had adopted, to attack Tuscany; to which he was strenuously advised by the Florentine exiles and Niccolo. The latter advocated this from his desire to recover the states of Braccio, and expel the count from La Marca; the former, from their wish to return home, and each by suitable arguments endeavored to induce the duke to follow the plan congenial to their own views. Niccolo argued that he might be sent into Tuscany, and continue the siege of Brescia; for he was master of the lake, the fortresses were well provided, and their officers were qualified to oppose the count should he undertake any fresh enterprise; which it was not likely he would do without first relieving Brescia, a thing impossible; and thus the duke might carry on the war in Tuscany, without giving up his attempts in Lombardy; intimating that the Florentines would be compelled, as soon as he entered Tuscany, to recall the count to avoid complete ruin; and whatever course they took, victory to the duke must be the result. The exiles affirmed, that if Niccolo with his army were to approach Florence, the people oppressed with taxes, and wearied out by the insolence of the great, would most assuredly not oppose him, and pointed out the facility of reaching Florence; for the way by the Casentino would be open to them, through the friendship of Rinaldo and the Count di Poppi; and thus the duke, who was previously inclined to the attempt, was induced by their joint persuasions to make it. The Venetians, on the other hand, though the winter was severe, incessantly urged the count to relieve Brescia with all his forces. The count questioned the possibility of so doing, and advised them to wait the return of spring, in the meantime strengthening their fleet as much as possible, and then assist it both by land and water. This rendered the Venetians dissatisfied; they were dilatory in furnishing provisions, and consequently many deserted from their army.

The Florentines, being informed of these transactions, became alarmed, perceiving the war threatening themselves, and the little progress made in Lombardy. Nor did the suspicion entertained by them of the troops of the church give them less uneasiness; not that the pope was their enemy, but because they saw those forces more under the sway of the patriarch, who was their greatest foe. Giovanni Vitelleschi of Corneto was at first apostolic notary, then bishop of Recanati, and afterward patriarch of Alexandria; but at last, becoming a cardinal, he was called Cardinal of Florence. He was bold and cunning; and, having obtained great influence, was appointed to command all the forces of the church, and conduct all the enterprises of the pontiff, whether in Tuscany, Romagna, the kingdom of Naples, or in Rome. Hence he acquired so much power over the pontiff, and the papal troops, that the former was afraid of commanding him, and the latter obeyed no one else. The cardinal’s presence at Rome, when the report came of Niccolo’s design to march into Tuscany, redoubled the fear of the Florentines; for, since Rinaldo was expelled, he had become an enemy of the republic, from finding that the arrangements made by his means were not only disregarded, but converted to Rinaldo’s prejudice, and caused the laying down of arms, which had given his enemies an opportunity of banishing him. In consequence of this, the government thought it would be advisable to restore and indemnify Rinaldo, in case Niccolo came into Tuscany and were joined by him. Their apprehensions were increased by their being unable to account for Niccolo’s departure from Lombardy, and his leaving one enterprise almost completed, to undertake another so entirely doubtful; which they could not reconcile with their ideas of consistency, except by supposing some new design had been adopted, or some hidden treachery intended. They communicated their fears to the pope, who was now sensible of his error in having endowed the cardinal with too much authority.

CHAPTER VI

The pope imprisons the cardinal and assists the Florentines — Difference of opinion between the count and the Venetians respecting the management of the war. The Florentines reconcile them — The count wishes to go into Tuscany to oppose Piccinino, but is prevented by the Venetians — Niccolo Piccinino in Tuscany — He takes Marradi, and plunders the neighborhood of Florence — Description of Marradi — Cowardice of Bartolomeo Orlandini — Brave resistance of Castel San Niccolo — San Niccolo surrenders — Piccinino attempts to take Cortona, but fails.

While the Florentines were thus anxious, fortune disclosed the means of securing themselves against the patriarch’s malevolence. The republic everywhere exercised the very closest espionage over epistolary communication, in order to discover if any persons were plotting against the state. It happened that letters were intercepted at Monte Pulciano, which had been written by the patriarch to Niccolo without the pope’s knowledge; and although they were written in an unusual character, and the sense so involved that no distinct idea could be extracted, the obscurity itself, and the whole aspect of the matter so alarmed the pontiff, that he resolved to seize the person of the cardinal, a duty he committed to Antonio Rido, of Padua, who had the command of the castle of St. Angelo, and who, after receiving his instructions, soon found an opportunity of carrying them into effect. The patriarch, having determined to go into Tuscany, prepared to leave Rome on the following day, and ordered the castellan to be upon the drawbridge of the fortress in the morning, for he wished to speak with him as he passed. Antonio perceived this to be the favorable moment, informed his people what they were to do, and awaited the arrival of the patriarch upon the bridge, which adjoined the building, and might for the purpose of security be raised or lowered as occasion required. The appointed time found him punctual; and Antonio, having drawn him, as if for the convenience of conversation, on to the bridge, gave a signal to his men, who immediately raised it, and in a moment the cardinal, from being a commander of armies, found himself a prisoner of the castellan. The patriarch’s followers at first began to use threats, but being informed of the pope’s directions they were appeased. The castellan comforting him with kind words, he replied, that “the great do not make each other prisoners to let them go again; and that those whom it is proper to take, it is not well to set free.” He shortly afterward died in prison. The pope appointed Lodovico, patriarch of Aquileia, to command his troops; and, though previously unwilling to interfere in the wars of the league and the duke, he was now content to take part in them, and engaged to furnish four thousand horse and two thousand foot for the defense of Tuscany.

The Florentines, freed from this cause for anxiety, were still apprehensive of Niccolo, and feared confusion in the affairs of Lombardy, from the differences of opinion that existed between the count and the Venetians. In order the better to become acquainted with the intentions of the parties, they sent Neri di Gini Capponi and Giuliano Davanzati to Venice, with instructions to assist in the arrangement of the approaching campaign; and ordered that Neri, having discovered how the Venetians were disposed, should proceed to the count, learn his designs, and induce him to adopt the course that would be most advantageous to the League. The ambassadors had only reached Ferrara, when they were told that Niccolo Piccinino had crossed the Po with six thousand horse. This made them travel with increased speed; and, having arrived at Venice, they found the Signory fully resolved that Brescia should be relieved without waiting for the return of spring; for they said that “the city would be unable to hold out so long, the fleet could not be in readiness, and that seeing no more immediate relief, she would submit to the enemy; which would render the duke universally victorious, and cause them to lose the whole of their inland possessions.” Neri then proceeded to Verona to ascertain the count’s opinion, who argued, for many reasons, that to march to Brescia before the return of spring would be quite useless, or even worse; for the situation of Brescia, being considered in conjunction with the season, nothing could be expected to result but disorder and fruitless toil to the troops; so that, when the suitable period should arrive, he would be compelled to return to Verona with his army, to recover from the injuries sustained in the winter, and provide necessaries for the summer; and thus the time available for the war would be wasted in marching and countermarching. Orsatto Justiniani and Giovanni Pisani were deputed on the part of Venice to the count at Verona, having been sent to consider these affairs, and with them it was agreed that the Venetians should pay the count ninety thousand ducats for the coming year, and to each of the soldiers forty ducats; that he should set out immediately with the whole army and attack the duke, in order to compel him, for his own preservation, to recall Niccolo into Lombardy. After this agreement the ambassadors returned to Venice; and the Venetians, having so large an amount of money to raise, were very remiss with their commissariat.

In the meantime, Niccolo Piccinino pursued his route, and arrived in Romagna, where he prevailed upon the sons of Pandolfo Malatesti to desert the Venetians and enter the duke’s service. This circumstance occasioned much uneasiness in Venice, and still more at Florence; for they thought that with the aid of the Malatesti they might resist Niccolo; but finding them gone over to the enemy, they were in fear lest their captain, Piero Giampagolo Orsini, who was in the territories of the Malatesti, should be disarmed and rendered powerless. The count also felt alarmed, for, through Niccolo’s presence in Tuscany, he was afraid of losing La Marca; and, urged by a desire to look after his own affairs, he hastened to Venice, and being introduced to the Doge, informed him that the interests of the League required his presence in Tuscany; for the war ought to be carried on where the leader and forces of the enemy were, and not where his garrisons and towns were situated; for when the army is vanquished the war is finished; but to take towns and leave the armament entire, usually allowed the war to break out again with greater virulence; that Tuscany and La Marca would be lost if Niccolo were not vigorously resisted, and that, if lost, there would be no possibility of the preservation of Lombardy. But supposing the danger to Lombardy not so imminent, he did not intend to abandon his own subjects and friends, and that having come into Lombardy as a prince, he did not intend to return a mere condottiere. To this the Doge replied, it was quite manifest that, if he left Lombardy, or even recrossed the Po, all their inland territories would be lost; in that case they were unwilling to spend any more money in their defense. For it would be folly to attempt defending a place which must, after all, inevitably be lost; and that it is less disgraceful and less injurious to lose dominions only, then to lose both territory and money. That if the loss of their inland possessions should actually result, it would then be seen how highly important to the preservation of Romagna and Tuscany the reputation of the Venetians had been. On these accounts they were of quite a different opinion from the count; for they saw that whoever was victor in Lombardy would be so everywhere else, that conquest would be easily attainable now, when the territories of the duke were left almost defenseless by the departure of Niccolo, and that he would be ruined before he could order Niccolo’s recall, or provide himself with any other remedy; that whoever attentively considered these things would see, that the duke had sent Niccolo into Tuscany for no other reason than to withdraw the count from his enterprise, and cause the war, which was now at his own door, to be removed to a greater distance. That if the count were to follow Niccolo, unless at the instigation of some very pressing necessity, he would find his plan successful, and rejoice in the adoption of it; but if he were to remain in Lombardy, and allow Tuscany to shift for herself, the duke would, when too late, see the imprudence of his conduct, and find that he had lost his territories in Lombardy and gained nothing in Tuscany. Each party having spoken, it was determined to wait a few days to see what would result from the agreement of the Malatesti with Niccolo; whether the Florentines could avail themselves of Piero Giampagolo, and whether the pope intended to join the League with all the earnestness he had promised. Not many days after these resolutions were adopted, it was ascertained that the Malatesti had made the agreement more from fear than any ill-will toward the League; that Piero Giampagolo had proceeded with his force toward Tuscany, and that the pope was more disposed than ever to assist them. This favorable intelligence dissipated the count’s fears, and he consented to remain in Lombardy, and that Neri Capponi should return to Florence with a thousand of his own horse, and five hundred from the other parties. It was further agreed, that if the affairs of Tuscany should require the count’s presence, Neri should write to him, and he would proceed thither to the exclusion of every other consideration. Neri arrived at Florence with his forces in April, and Giampagolo joined them the same day.

In the meantime, Niccolo Piccinino, the affairs of Romagna being settled, purposed making a descent into Tuscany, and designing to go by the mountain passes of San Benedetto and the valley of Montone, found them so well guarded by the contrivance of Niccolo da Pisa, that his utmost exertions would be useless in that direction. As the Florentines, upon this sudden attack, were unprovided with troops and officers, they had sent into the defiles of these hills many of their citizens, with infantry raised upon the emergency to guard them, among whom was Bartolomeo Orlandini, a cavaliere, to whom was intrusted the defense of the castle of Marradi and the adjacent passes. Niccolo Piccinino, finding the route by San Benedetto impracticable, on account of the bravery of its commander, thought the cowardice of the officer who defended that of Marradi would render the passage easy. Marradi is a castle situated at the foot of the mountains which separate Tuscany from Romagna; and, though destitute of walls, the river, the mountains, and the inhabitants, make it a place of great strength; for the peasantry are warlike and faithful, and the rapid current undermining the banks has left them of such tremendous height that it is impossible to approach it from the valley if a small bridge over the stream be defended; while on the mountain side the precipices are so steep and perpendicular as to render it almost impregnable. In spite of these advantages, the pusillanimity of Bartolomeo Orlandini rendered the men cowardly and the fortress untenable; for as soon as he heard of the enemy’s approach he abandoned the place, fled with all his forces, and did not stop till he reached the town of San Lorenzo. Niccolo, entering the deserted fortress, wondered it had not been defended, and, rejoicing over his acquisition, descended into the valley of the Mugello, where he took some castles, and halted with his army at Pulicciano. Thence he overran the country as far as the mountains of Fiesole; and his audacity so increased that he crossed the Arno, plundering and destroying everything to within three miles of Florence.

The Florentines, however, were not dismayed. Their first concern was to give security to the government, for which they had no cause for apprehension, so universal was the good will of the people toward Cosmo; and besides this, they had restricted the principal offices to a few citizens of the highest class, who with their vigilance would have kept the populace in order, even if they had been discontented or desirous of change. They also knew by the compact made in Lombardy what forces Neri would bring with him, and expected the troops of the pope. These prospects sustained their courage till the arrival of Neri di Gino, who, on account of the disorders and fears of the city, determined to set out immediately and check Niccolo. With the cavalry he possessed, and a body of infantry raised entirely from the people, he recovered Remole from the hands of the enemy, where having encamped, he put a stop to all further depredations, and gave the inhabitants hopes of repelling the enemy from the neighborhood. Niccolo finding that, although the Florentines were without troops, no disturbance had arisen, and learning what entire composure prevailed in the city, thought he was wasting time, and resolved to undertake some other enterprise to induce them to send forces after him, and give him a chance of coming to an engagement, by means of which, if victorious, he trusted everything would succeed to his wishes.

Francesco, Count di Poppi, was in the army of Niccolo, having deserted the Florentines, with whom he was in league, when the enemy entered the Mugello; and though with the intention of securing him as soon as they had an idea of his design, they increased his appointments, and made him commissary over all the places in his vicinity; still, so powerful is the attachment to party, that no benefit or fear could eradicate the affection he bore toward Rinaldo and the late government; so that as soon as he knew Niccolo was at hand he joined him, and with the utmost solicitude entreated him to leave the city and pass into the Casentino, pointing out to him the strength of the country, and how easily he might thence harass his enemies. Niccolo followed his advice, and arriving in the Casentino, took Romena and Bibbiena, and then pitched his camp before Castel San Niccolo. This fortress is situated at the foot of the mountains which divide the Casentino from the Val d’Arno; and being in an elevated situation, and well garrisoned, it was difficult to take, though Niccolo, with catapults and other engines, assailed it without intermission. The siege had continued more than twenty days, during which the Florentines had collected all their forces, having assembled under several leaders, three thousand horse, at Fegghine, commanded by Piero Giampagolo Orsini, their captain, and Neri Capponi and Bernardo de’ Medici, commissaries. Four messengers, from Castel San Niccolo, were sent to them to entreat succor. The commissaries having examined the site, found it could not be relieved, except from the Alpine regions, in the direction of the Val d’Arno, the summit of which was more easily attainable by the enemy than by themselves, on account of their greater proximity, and because the Florentines could not approach without observation; so that it would be making a desperate attempt, and might occasion the destruction of the forces. The commissaries, therefore, commended their fidelity, and ordered that when they could hold out no longer, they should surrender. Niccolo took the fortress after a siege of thirty-two days; and the loss of so much time, for the attainment of so small an advantage, was the principle cause of the failure of his expedition; for had he remained with his forces near Florence, he would have almost deprived the government of all power to compel the citizens to furnish money: nor would they so easily have assembled forces and taken other precautions, if the enemy had been close upon them, as they did while he was at a distance. Besides this, many would have been disposed to quiet their apprehensions of Niccolo, by concluding a peace; particularly, as the contest was likely to be of some duration. The desire of the Count di Poppi to avenge himself on the inhabitants of San Niccolo, long his enemies, occasioned his advice to Piccinino, who adopted it for the purpose of pleasing him; and this caused the ruin of both. It seldom happens, that the gratification of private feelings, fails to be injurious to the general convenience.

Niccolo, pursuing his good fortune, took Rassina and Chiusi. The Count di Poppi advised him to halt in these parts, arguing that he might divide his people between Chiusi, Caprese, and the Pieve, render himself master of this branch of the Apennines, and descend at pleasure into the Casentino, the Val d’Arno, the Val di Chiane, or the Val di Tavere, as well as be prepared for every movement of the enemy. But Niccolo, considering the sterility of these places, told him, “his horses could not eat stones,” and went to the Borgo San Sepolcro, where he was amicably received, but found that the people of Citta di Castello, who were friendly to the Florentines, could not be induced to yield to his overtures. Wishing to have Perugia at his disposal, he proceeded thither with forty horse, and being one of her citizens, met with a kind reception. But in a few days he became suspected, and having attempted unsuccessfully to tamper with the legate and people of Perugia, he took eight thousand ducats from them, and returned to his army. He then set on foot secret measures, to seduce Cortona from the Florentines, but the affair being discovered, his attempts were fruitless. Among the principal citizens was Bartolomeo di Senso, who being appointed to the evening watch of one of the gates, a countryman, his friend, told him, that if he went he would be slain. Bartolomeo, requesting to know what was meant, he became acquainted with the whole affair, and revealed it to the governor of the place, who, having secured the leaders of the conspiracy, and doubled the guards at the gates, waited till the time appointed for the coming of Niccolo, who finding his purpose discovered, returned to his encampment.

CHAPTER VII

Brescia relieved by Sforza — His other victories — Piccinino is recalled into Lombardy — He endeavors to bring the Florentines to an engagement — He is routed before Anghiari — Serious disorders in the camp of the Florentines after the victory — Death of Rinaldo degli Albizzi — His character — Neri Capponi goes to recover the Casentino — The Count di Poppi surrenders — His discourse upon quitting his possessions.

While these events were taking place in Tuscany, so little to the advantage of the duke, his affairs in Lombardy were in a still worse condition. The Count Francesco, as soon as the season would permit, took the field with his army, and the Venetians having again covered the lake with their galleys, he determined first of all to drive the duke from the water; judging, that this once effected, his remaining task would be easy. He therefore, with the Venetian fleet, attacked that of the duke, and destroyed it. His land forces took the castles held for Filippo, and the ducal troops who were besieging Brescia, being informed of these transactions, withdrew; and thus, the city, after standing a three years’ siege, was at length relieved. The count then went in quest of the enemy, whose forces were encamped before Soncino, a fortress situated upon the River Oglio; these he dislodged and compelled to retreat to Cremona, where the duke again collected his forces, and prepared for his defense. But the count constantly pressing him more closely, he became apprehensive of losing either the whole, or the greater part, of his territories; and perceiving the unfortunate step he had taken, in sending Niccolo into Tuscany, in order to correct his error, he wrote to acquaint him with what had transpired, desiring him, with all possible dispatch, to leave Tuscany and return to Lombardy.

In the meantime, the Florentines, under their commissaries, had drawn together their forces, and being joined by those of the pope, halted at Anghiari, a castle placed at the foot of the mountains that divide the Val di Tavere from the Val di Chiane, distant four miles from the Borgo San Sepolcro, on a level road, and in a country suitable for the evolutions of cavalry or a battlefield. As the Signory had heard of the count’s victory and the recall of Niccolo, they imagined that without again drawing a sword or disturbing the dust under their horses’ feet, the victory was their own, and the war at an end, they wrote to the commissaries, desiring them to avoid an engagement, as Niccolo could not remain much longer in Tuscany. These instructions coming to the knowledge of Piccinino, and perceiving the necessity of his speedy return, to leave nothing unattempted, he determined to engage the enemy, expecting to find them unprepared, and not disposed for battle. In this determination he was confirmed by Rinaldo, the Count di Poppi, and other Florentine exiles, who saw their inevitable ruin in the departure of Niccolo, and hoped, that if he engaged the enemy, they would either be victorious, or vanquished without dishonor. This resolution being adopted, Niccolo led his army, unperceived by the enemy, from Citta di Castello to the Borgo, where he enlisted two thousand men, who, trusting the general’s talents and promises, followed him in hope of plunder. Niccolo then led his forces in battle array toward Anghiari, and had arrived within two miles of the place, when Micheletto Attendulo observed great clouds of dust, and conjecturing at once, that it must be occasioned by the enemy’s approach, immediately called the troops to arms. Great confusion prevailed in the Florentine camp, for the ordinary negligence and want of discipline were now increased by their presuming the enemy to be at a distance, and they were more disposed to fight than to battle; so that everyone was unarmed, and some wandering from the camp, either led by their desire to avoid the excessive heat, or in pursuit of amusement. So great was the diligence of the commissaries and of the captain, that before the enemy’s arrival, the men were mounted and prepared to resist their attack; and as Micheletto was the first to observe their approach, he was also first armed and ready to meet them, and with his troops hastened to the bridge which crosses the river at a short distance from Anghiari. Pietro Giampagolo having previous to the surprise, filled up the ditches on either side of the road, and leveled the ground between the bridge and Anghiari, and Micheletto having taken his position in front of the former, the legate and Simoncino, who led the troops of the church, took post on the right, and the commissaries of the Florentines, with Pietro Giampagolo, their captain, on the left; the infantry being drawn up along the banks of the river. Thus, the only course the enemy could take, was the direct one over the bridge; nor had the Florentines any other field for their exertions, excepting that their infantry were ordered, in case their cavalry were attacked in flank by the hostile infantry, to assail them with their cross bows, and prevent them from wounding the flanks of the horses crossing the bridge. Micheletto bravely withstood the enemy’s charge upon the bridge; but Astorre and Francesco Piccinino coming up, with a picked body of men, attacked him so vigorously, that he was compelled to give way, and was pushed as far as the foot of the hill which rises toward the Borgo d’Anghiari; but they were in turn repulsed and driven over the bridge, by the troops that took them in flank. The battle continued two hours, during which each side had frequent possession of the bridge, and their attempts upon it were attended with equal success; but on both sides of the river, the disadvantage of Niccolo was manifest; for when his people crossed the bridge, they found the enemy unbroken, and the ground being leveled, they could manoeuvre without difficulty, and the weary be relieved by such as were fresh. But when the Florentines crossed, Niccolo could not relieve those that were harassed, on account of the hindrance interposed by the ditches and embankments on each side of the road; thus whenever his troops got possession of the bridge, they were soon repulsed by the fresh forces of the Florentines; but when the bridge was taken by the Florentines, and they passed over and proceeded upon the road, Niccolo having no opportunity to reinforce his troops, being prevented by the impetuosity of the enemy and the inconvenience of the ground, the rear guard became mingled with the van, and occasioned the utmost confusion and disorder; they were forced to flee, and hastened at full speed toward the Borgo. The Florentine troops fell upon the plunder, which was very valuable in horses, prisoners, and military stores, for not more than a thousand of the enemy’s cavalry reached the town. The people of the Borgo, who had followed Niccolo in the hope of plunder, became booty themselves, all of them being taken, and obliged to pay a ransom. The colors and carriages were also captured. This victory was much more advantageous to the Florentines than injurious to the duke; for, had they been conquered, Tuscany would have been his own; but he, by his defeat, only lost the horses and accoutrements of his army, which could be replaced without any very serious expense. Nor was there ever an instance of wars being carried on in an enemy’s country with less injury to the assailants than at this; for in so great a defeat, and in a battle which continued four hours, only one man died, and he, not from wounds inflicted by hostile weapons, or any honorable means, but, having fallen from his horse, was trampled to death. Combatants then engaged with little danger; being nearly all mounted, covered with armor, and preserved from death whenever they chose to surrender, there was no necessity for risking their lives; while fighting, their armor defended them, and when they could resist no longer, they yielded and were safe.

This battle, from the circumstances which attended and followed it, presents a striking example of the wretched state of military discipline in those times. The enemy’s forces being defeated and driven into the Borgo, the commissaries desired to pursue them, in order to make the victory complete, but not a single condottiere or soldier would obey, alleging, as a sufficient reason for their refusal, that they must take care of the booty and attend to their wounded; and, what is still more surprising, the next day, without permission from the commissaries, or the least regard for their commanders, they went to Arezzo, and, having secured their plunder, returned to Anghiari; a thing so contrary to military order and all subordination, that the merest shadow of a regular army would easily and most justly have wrested from them the victory they had so undeservedly obtained. Added to this, the men-at-arms, or heavy-armed horse, who had been taken prisoners, whom the commissaries wished to be detained that they might not rejoin the enemy, were set at liberty, contrary to their orders. It is astonishing, that an army so constructed should have sufficient energy to obtain the victory, or that any should be found so imbecile as to allow such a disorderly rabble to vanquish them. The time occupied by the Florentine forces in going and returning from Arezzo, gave Niccolo opportunity of escaping from the Borgo, and proceeding toward Romagna. Along with him also fled the Florentine exiles, who, finding no hope of their return home, took up their abodes in various parts of Italy, each according to his own convenience. Rinaldo made choice of Ancona; and, to gain admission to the celestial country, having lost the terrestrial, he performed a pilgrimage to the holy sepulcher; whence having returned, he died suddenly while at table at the celebration of the marriage of one of his daughters; an instance of fortune’s favor, in removing him from the troubles of this world upon the least sorrowful day of his exile. Rinaldo d’Albizzi appeared respectable under every change of condition; and would have been more so had he lived in a united city, for many qualities were injurious to him in a factious community, which in an harmonious one would have done him honor.

When the forces returned from Arezzo, Niccolo being then gone, the commissaries presented themselves at the Borgo, the people of which were willing to submit to the Florentines; but their offer was declined, and while negotiations were pending, the pope’s legate imagined the commissaries designed to take it from the church. Hard words were exchanged and hostilities might have ensued between the Florentine and ecclesiastical forces, if the misunderstanding had continued much longer; but as it was brought to the conclusion desired by the legate, peace was restored.

While the affair of the Borgo San Sepolcro was in progress, Niccolo Piccinino was supposed to have marched toward Rome; other accounts said La Marca, and hence the legate and the count’s forces moved toward Perugia to relieve La Marca or Rome, as the case might be, and Bernardo de Medici accompanied them. Neri led the Florentine forces to recover the Casentino, and pitched his camp before Rassina, which he took, together with Bibbiena, Prato Vecchio, and Romena. From thence he proceeded to Poppi and invested it on two sides with his forces, in one direction toward the plain of Certomondo, in the other upon the hill extending to Fronzole. The count finding himself abandoned to his fate, had shut himself up in Poppi, not with any hope of assistance, but with a view to make the best terms he could. Neri pressing him, he offered to capitulate, and obtained reasonable conditions, namely, security for himself and family, with leave to take whatever he could carry away, on condition of ceding his territories and government to the Florentines. When he perceived the full extent of his misfortune, standing upon the bridge which crosses the Arno, close to Poppi, he turned to Neri in great distress, and said, “Had I well considered my own position and the power of the Florentines, I should now have been a friend of the republic and congratulating you on your victory, not an enemy compelled to supplicate some alleviation of my woe. The recent events which to you bring glory and joy, to me are full of wretchedness and sorrow. Once I possessed horses, arms, subjects, grandeur and wealth: can it be surprising that I part with them reluctantly? But as you possess both the power and the inclination to command the whole of Tuscany, we must of necessity obey you; and had I not committed this error, my misfortune would not have occurred, and your liberality could not have been exercised; so, that if you were to rescue me from entire ruin, you would give the world a lasting proof of your clemency. Therefore, let your pity pass by my fault, and allow me to retain this single house to leave to the descendants of those from whom your fathers have received innumerable benefits.” To this Neri replied: “That his having expected great results from men who were capable of doing only very little, had led him to commit so great a fault against the republic of Florence; that, every circumstance considered, he must surrender all those places to the Florentines, as an enemy, which he was unwilling to hold as a friend: that he had set such an example, as it would be most highly impolitic to encourage; for, upon a change of fortune, it might injure the republic, and it was not himself they feared, but his power while lord of the Casentino. If, however, he could live as a prince in Germany, the citizens would be very much gratified; and out of love to those ancestors of whom he had spoken, they would be glad to assist him.” To this, the count, in great anger, replied: “He wished the Florentines at a much greater distance.” Attempting no longer to preserve the least urbanity of demeanor, he ceded the place and all its dependencies to the Florentines, and with his treasure, wife, and children, took his departure, mourning the loss of a territory which his forefathers had held during four hundred years. When all these victories were known at Florence, the government and people were transported with joy. Benedetto de’ Medici, finding the report of Niccolo having proceeded either to Rome or to La Marca, incorrect, returned with his forces to Neri, and they proceeded together to Florence, where the highest honors were decreed to them which it was customary with the city to bestow upon her victorious citizens, and they were received by the Signory, the Capitani di Parte, and the whole city, in triumphal pomp.

BOOK VI

CHAPTER I

Reflections on the object of war and the use of victory — Niccolo reinforces his army — The duke of Milan endeavors to recover the services of Count Francesco Sforza — Suspicions of the Venetians — They acquire Ravenna — The Florentines purchase the Borgo San Sepolcro of the pope — Piccinino makes an excursion during the winter — The count besieged in his camp before Martinengo — The insolence of Niccolo Piccinino — The duke in revenge makes peace with the league — Sforza assisted by the Florentines.

Those who make war have always and very naturally designed to enrich themselves and impoverish the enemy; neither is victory sought or conquest desirable, except to strengthen themselves and weaken the enemy. Hence it follows, that those who are impoverished by victory or debilitated by conquest, must either have gone beyond, or fallen short of, the end for which wars are made. A republic or a prince is enriched by the victories he obtains, when the enemy is crushed and possession is retained of the plunder and ransom. Victory is injurious when the foe escapes, or when the soldiers appropriate the booty and ransom. In such a case, losses are unfortunate, and conquests still more so; for the vanquished suffers the injuries inflicted by the enemy, and the victor those occasioned by his friends, which being less justifiable, must cause the greater pain, particularly from a consideration of his being thus compelled to oppress his people by an increased burden of taxation. A ruler possessing any degree of humanity, cannot rejoice in a victory that afflicts his subjects. The victories of the ancient and well organized republics, enabled them to fill their treasuries with gold and silver won from their enemies, to distribute gratuities to the people, reduce taxation, and by games and solemn festivals, disseminate universal joy. But the victories obtained in the times of which we speak, first emptied the treasury, and then impoverished the people, without giving the victorious party security from the enemy. This arose entirely from the disorders inherent in their mode of warfare; for the vanquished soldiery, divesting themselves of their accoutrements, and being neither slain nor detained prisoners, only deferred a renewed attack on the conqueror, till their leader had furnished them with arms and horses. Besides this, both ransom and booty being appropriated by the troops, the victorious princes could not make use of them for raising fresh forces, but were compelled to draw the necessary means from their subjects’ purses, and this was the only result of victory experienced by the people, except that it diminished the ruler’s reluctance to such a course, and made him less particular about his mode of oppressing them. To such a state had the practice of war been brought by the sort of soldiery then on foot, that the victor and the vanquished, when desirous of their services, alike needed fresh supplies of money; for the one had to re-equip them, and the other to bribe them; the vanquished could not fight without being remounted, and the conquerors would not take the field without a new gratuity. Hence it followed, that the one derived little advantage from the victory, and the other was the less injured by defeat; for the routed party had to be re-equipped, and the victorious could not pursue his advantage.

From this disorderly and perverse method of procedure, it arose, that before Niccolo’s defeat became known throughout Italy, he had again reorganized his forces, and harassed the enemy with greater vigor than before. Hence, also, it happened, that after his disaster at Tenna, he so soon occupied Verona: that being deprived of his army at Verona, he was shortly able to appear with a large force in Tuscany; that being completely defeated at Anghiari, before he reached Tuscany, he was more powerful in the field than ever. He was thus enabled to give the duke of Milan hopes of defending Lombardy, which by his absence appeared to be lost; for while Niccolo spread consternation throughout Tuscany, disasters in the former province so alarmed the duke, that he was afraid his utter ruin would ensue before Niccolo, whom he had recalled, could come to his relief, and check the impetuous progress of the count. Under these impressions, the duke, to insure by policy that success which he could not command by arms, had recourse to remedies, which on similar occasions had frequently served his turn. He sent Niccolo da Esti, prince of Ferrara, to the count who was then at Peschiera, to persuade him, “That this war was not to his advantage; for if the duke became so ruined as to be unable to maintain his position among the states of Italy, the count would be the first to suffer; for he would cease to be of importance either with the Venetians or the Florentines; and to prove the sincerity of his wish for peace, he offered to fulfill the engagement he had entered into with regard to his daughter, and send her to Ferrara; so that as soon as peace was established, the union might take place.” The count replied, “That if the duke really wished for peace, he might easily be gratified, as the Florentines and the Venetians were equally anxious for it. True, it was, he could with difficulty credit him, knowing that he had never made peace but from necessity, and when this no longer pressed him, again desired war. Neither could he give credence to what he had said concerning the marriage, having been so repeatedly deceived; yet when peace was concluded, he would take the advice of his friends upon that subject.”

The Venetians, who were sometimes needlessly jealous of their soldiery, became greatly alarmed at these proceedings; and not without reason. The count was aware of this, and wishing to remove their apprehensions, pursued the war with unusual vigor; but his mind had become so unsettled by ambition, and the Venetians’ by jealousy, that little further progress was made during the remainder of the summer, and upon the return of Niccolo into Lombardy, winter having already commenced, the armies withdrew into quarters, the count to Verona, the Florentine forces to Tuscany, the duke’s to Cremona, and those of the pope to Romagna. The latter, after having been victorious at Anghiari, made an unsuccessful attack upon Furli and Bologna, with a view to wrest them from Niccolo Piccinino; but they were gallantly defended by his son Francesco. However, the arrival of the papal forces so alarmed the people of Ravenna with the fear of becoming subject to the church, that, by consent of Ostasio di Polenta their lord, they placed themselves under the power of the Venetians; who, in return for the territory, and that Ostasio might never retake by force what he had imprudently given them, sent him and his son to Candia, where they died. In the course of these affairs, the pope, notwithstanding the victory at Anghiari, became so in want of money, that he sold the fortress of Borgo San Sepolcro to the Florentines for 25,000 ducats.

Affairs being thus situated, each party supposed winter would protect them from the evils of war, and thought no more of peace. This was particularly the case with the duke, who, being rendered doubly secure by the season and by the presence of Niccolo, broke off all attempts to effect a reconciliation with the count, reorganized Niccolo’s forces, and made every requisite preparation for the future struggle. The count being informed of this, went to Venice to consult with the senate on the course to be pursued during the next year. Niccolo, on the other hand, being quite prepared, and seeing the enemy unprovided, did not await the return of spring, but crossed the Adda during severe weather, occupied the whole Brescian territory, except Oddula and Acri, and made prisoners two thousand horse belonging to Francesco’s forces, who had no apprehension of an attack. But the greatest source of anxiety to the count, and alarm to the Venetians, was the desertion of his service by Ciarpellone, one of his principal officers. Francesco, on learning these matters, immediately left Venice, and, arriving at Brescia, found that Niccolo, after doing all the mischief he could, had retired to his quarters; and therefore, finding the war concluded for the present was not disposed to rekindle it, but rather to use the opportunity afforded by the season and his enemies, of reorganizing his forces, so as to be able, when spring arrived, to avenge himself for his former injuries. To this end he induced the Venetians to recall the forces they had in Tuscany, in the Florentine service, and to order that to succeed Gattamelata, who was dead, Micheletto Attendulo should take the command.

On the approach of spring, Niccolo Piccinino was the first to take the field, and encamped before Cignano, a fortress twelve miles from Brescia; the count marched to its relief, and the war between them was conducted in the usual manner. The count, apprehensive for the city of Bergamo, besieged Martinengo, a castle so situated that the possession of it would enable him to relieve the former, which was closely pressed by Niccolo, who, having foreseen that the enemy could impede him only from the direction of Martinengo, had put the castle into a complete state of defense, so that the count was obliged to lend his whole force to the siege. Upon this, Niccolo placed his troops in a situation calculated to intercept the count’s provisions, and fortified himself with trenches and bastions in such a manner that he could not be attacked without the most manifest hazard to his assailant. Hence the besiegers were more distressed than the people of Martinengo whom they besieged. The count could not hold his position for want of food, nor quit it without imminent danger; so that the duke’s victory appeared certain, and defeat equally inevitable to the count and the Venetians.

But fortune, never destitute of means to assist her favorites, or to injure others, caused the hope of victory to operate so powerfully upon Niccolo Piccinino, and made him assume such a tone of unbounded insolence, that, losing all respect for himself and the duke, he sent him word that, having served under his ensign for so long, without obtaining sufficient land to serve him for a grave, he wished to know from himself what was to be the reward of his labors; for it was in his power to make him master of Lombardy, and place all his enemies in his power; and, as a certain victory ought to be attended by a sure remuneration, he desired the duke to concede to him the city of Piacenza, that when weary with his lengthened services he might at last betake himself to repose. Nor did he hesitate, in conclusion, to threaten, if his request were not granted, to abandon the enterprise. This injurious and most insolent mode of proceeding highly offended the duke, and, on further consideration, he determined rather to let the expedition altogether fail, than consent to his general’s demand. Thus, what all the dangers he had incurred, and the threats of his enemies, could not draw from him, the insolent behavior of his friends made him willing to propose. He resolved to come to terms with the count, and sent Antonio Guido Buono, of Tortona, to offer his daughter and conditions of peace, which were accepted with great pleasure by the count, and also by the colleagues as far as themselves were concerned. The terms being secretly arranged, the duke sent to command Niccolo to make a truce with the count for one year; intimating, that being exhausted with the expense, he could not forego a certain peace for a doubtful victory. Niccolo was utterly astonished at this resolution, and could not imagine what had induced the duke to lose such a glorious opportunity; nor could he surmise that, to avoid rewarding his friends, he would save his enemies, and therefore to the utmost of his power he opposed this resolution; and the duke was obliged, in order to induce his compliance, to threaten that if he did not obey he would give him up to his soldiers and his enemies. Niccolo submitted, with the feelings of one compelled to leave country and friends, complaining of his hard fate, that fortune and the duke were robbing him of the victory over his enemies. The truce being arranged, the marriage of the duke’s daughter, Bianca, to the count was solemnized, the duke giving Cremona for her portion. This being over, peace was concluded in November, 1441, at which Francesco Barbadico and Pagolo Trono were present for the Venetians, and for the Florentines Agnolo Acciajuoli. Peschiera, Asola, and Lonato, castles in the Mantuan territory, were assigned to the Venetians.

The war in Lombardy was concluded; but the dissensions in the kingdom of Naples continued, and the inability to compose them occasioned the resumption of those arms which had been so recently laid aside. Alfonso, of Aragon, had, during these wars, taken from René the whole kingdom except Naples; so that, thinking he had the victory in his power, he resolved during the siege of Naples to take Benevento, and his other possessions in that neighborhood, from the count; and thought he might easily accomplish this while the latter was engaged in the wars of Lombardy. Having heard of the conclusion of peace, Alfonso feared the count would not only come for the purpose of recovering his territories, but also to favor René; and René himself had hope of his assistance for the same reason. The latter, therefore, sent to the count, begging he would come to the relief of a friend, and avenge himself of an enemy. On the other hand, Alfonso entreated Filippo, for the sake of the friendship which subsisted between them, to find the count some other occupation, that, being engaged in greater affairs, he might not have an opportunity of interfering between them. Filippo complied with this request, without seeming to be aware that he violated the peace recently made, so greatly to his disadvantage. He therefore signified to pope Eugenius, that the present was a favorable opportunity for recovering the territories which the count had taken from the church; and, that he might be in a condition to use it, offered him the services of Niccolo Piccinino, and engaged to pay him during the war; who, since the peace of Lombardy, had remained with his forces in Romagna. Eugenius eagerly took the advice, induced by his hatred of the count, and his desire to recover his lost possessions; feeling assured that, although on a former occasion he had been duped by Niccolo, it would be improper, now that the duke interfered, to suspect any deceit; and, joining his forces to those of Niccolo, he assailed La Marca. The count, astonished at such an unexpected attack, assembled his troops, and went to meet the enemy. In the meantime, King Alfonso took possession of Naples, so that the whole kingdom, except Castelnuova, was in his power. Leaving a strong guard at Castelnuova René set out and came to Florence, where he was most honorably received; and having remained a few days, finding he could not continue the war, he withdrew to Marseilles.

In the meantime, Alfonso took Castelnuova, and the count found himself assailed in the Marca Inferiore, both by the pope and Niccolo. He applied to the Venetians and the Florentines for assistance, in men and money, assuring them that if they did not determine to restrain the pope and king, during his life, they would soon afterward find their very existence endangered, for both would join Filippo and divide Italy among them. The Florentines and Venetians hesitated for a time, both to consider the propriety of drawing upon themselves the enmity of the pope and the king, and because they were then engaged in the affairs of the Bolognese. Annibale Bentivoglio had driven Francesco Piccinino from Bologna, and for defense against the duke, who favored Francesco, he demanded and received assistance of the Venetians and Florentines; so that, being occupied with these matters they could not resolve to assist the count, but Annibale, having routed Francesco Piccinino, and those affairs seeming to be settled, they resolved to support him. Designing however to make sure of the duke, they offered to renew the league with him, to which he was not averse; for, although he consented that war should be made against the count, while King René was in arms, yet finding him now conquered, and deprived of the whole kingdom, he was not willing that the count should be despoiled of his territories; and therefore, not only consented that assistance should be given him, but wrote to Alfonso to be good enough to retire to his kingdom, and discontinue hostilities against the count; and although reluctantly, yet in acknowledgment of his obligations to the duke, Alfonso determined to satisfy him, and withdrew with his forces beyond the Tronto.

CHAPTER II

Discords of Florence — Jealousy excited against Neri di Gino Capponi — Baldaccio d’Anghiari murdered — Reform of government in favor of the Medici — Enterprises of Sforza and Piccinino — Death of Niccolo Piccinino — End of the war — Disturbances in Bologna — Annibale Bentivoglio slain by Battista Canneschi, and the latter by the people — Santi, supposed to be the son of Ercole Bentivoglio, is called to govern the city of Bologna — Discourse of Cosmo de’ Medici to him — Perfidious designs of the duke of Milan against Sforza — General war in Italy — Losses of the duke of Milan — The duke has recourse to the count, who makes peace with him — Offers of the duke and the Venetians to the count — The Venetians furtively deprive the count of Cremona.

While the affairs of Romagna proceeded thus, the city of Florence was not tranquil. Among the citizens of highest reputation in the government, was Neri di Gino Capponi, of whose influence Cosmo de’ Medici had more apprehension than any other; for to the great authority which he possessed in the city was added his influence with the soldiery. Having been often leader of the Florentine forces he had won their affection by his courage and talents; and the remembrance of his own and his father’s victories (the latter having taken Pisa, and he himself having overcome Niccolo Piccinino at Anghiari) caused him to be beloved by many, and feared by those who were averse to having associates in the government. Among the leaders of the Florentine army was Baldaccio d’Anghiari, an excellent soldier, for in those times there was not one in Italy who surpassed him in vigor either of body or mind; and possessing so much influence with the infantry, whose leader he had always been, many thought they would follow him wherever he chose to lead them. Baldaccio was the intimate friend of Neri, who loved him for his talents, of which he had been a constant witness. This excited great suspicion in the other citizens, who, thinking it alike dangerous either to discharge or retain him in their service, determined to destroy him, and fortune seemed to favor their design. Bartolommeo Orlandini was Gonfalonier of Justice; the same person who was sent to the defense of Marradi, when Niccolo Piccinino came into Tuscany, as we have related above, and so basely abandoned the pass, which by its nature was almost impregnable. So flagrant an instance of cowardice was very offensive to Baldaccio, who, on many occasions, both by words and letters, had contributed to make the disgraceful fact known to all. The shame and vexation of Bartolommeo were extreme, so that of all things he wished to avenge himself, thinking, with the death of his accuser, to efface the stain upon his character.

This feeling of Bartolommeo Orlandini was known to other citizens, so that they easily persuaded him to put Baldaccio to death, and at one avenge himself, and deliver his country from a man whom they must either retain at great peril, or discharge to their greater confusion. Bartolommeo having therefore resolved to murder him, concealed in his own apartment at the palace several young men, all armed; and Baldaccio, entering the piazza, whither it was his daily custom to come, to confer with the magistrates concerning his command, the Gonfalonier sent for him, and he, without any suspicion, obeyed. Meeting him in the corridor, which leads to the chambers of the Signory, they took a few turns together discoursing of his office, when being close to the door of the apartments in which the assassins were concealed, Bartolommeo gave them the signal, upon which they rushed out, and finding Baldaccio alone and unarmed, they slew him, and threw the body out of the window which looks from the palace toward the dogano, or customhouse. It was thence carried into the piazza, where the head being severed, it remained the whole day exposed to the gaze of the people. Baldaccio was married, and had only one child, a boy, who survived him but a short time; and his wife, Annalena, thus deprived of both husband and offspring, rejected every proposal for a second union. She converted her house into a monastery, to which she withdrew, and, being joined by many noble ladies, lived in holy seclusion to the end of her days. The convent she founded, and which is named from her, preserves her story in perpetual remembrance.

This circumstance served to weaken Neri’s power, and made him lose both influence and friends. Nor did this satisfy the citizens who held the reins of government; for it being ten years since their acquisition of power, and the authority of the Balia expired, many began to exhibit more boldness, both in words and deeds, than seemed consistent with their safety; and the leaders of the party judged, that if they wished to preserve their influence, some means must be adopted to increase it. To this end, in 1444 the councils created a new Balia, which reformed the government, gave authority to a limited number to create the Signory, re-established the Chancery of Reformations, depriving Filippo Peruzzi of his office of president in it, and appointing another wholly under their influence. They prolonged the term of exile to those who were banished; put Giovanni di Simone Vespucci in prison; deprived the Accoppiatori of their enemies of the honors of government, and with them the sons of Piero Baroncelli, the whole of the Seragli, Bartolommeo Fortini, Francesco Castellani, and many others. By these means they strengthened their authority and influence, and humbled their enemies, or those whom they suspected of being so.

Having thus recovered and confirmed their government, they then turned their attention to external affairs. As observed above, Niccolo Piccinino was abandoned by King Alfonso, and the count having been aggrandized by the assistance of the Florentines, attacked and routed him near Fermo, where, after losing nearly the whole of his troops, Niccolo fled to Montecchio, which he fortified in such a manner that in a short time he had again assembled so large an army as enabled him to make head against the count; particularly as the season was now come for them to withdraw into quarters. His principal endeavor during the winter was to collect troops, and in this he was assisted both by the pope and Alfonso; so that, upon the approach of spring, both leaders took the field, and Niccolo, being the strongest, reduced the count to extreme necessity, and would have conquered him if the duke had not contrived to frustrate his designs. Filippo sent to beg he would come to him with all speed, for he wished to have a personal interview, that he might communicate matters of the highest importance. Niccolo, anxious to hear them, abandoned a certain victory for a very doubtful advantage; and leaving his son Francesco to command the army, hastened to Milan. The count being informed of the circumstance, would not let slip the opportunity of fighting in the absence of Niccolo; and, coming to an engagement near the castle of Monte Loro, routed the father’s forces and took the son prisoner. Niccolo having arrived at Milan saw that the duke had duped him, and learning the defeat of his army and the capture of his son, he died of grief in 1445, at the age of sixty-four, having been a brave rather than a fortunate leader. He left two sons, Francesco and Jacopo, who, possessing less talent than their father, were still more unfortunate; so that the arms of the family became almost annihilated, while those of Sforza, being favored by fortune, attained augmented glory. The pope, seeing Niccolo’s army defeated and himself dead, having little hope of assistance from Aragon, sought peace with the count, and, by the intervention of the Florentines, succeeded. Of La Marca, the pope only retained Osimo, Fabriano, and Recanati; all the rest remained in the count’s possession.

Peace being restored to La Marca, the whole of Italy would have obtained repose had it not been disturbed by the Bolognese. There were in Bologna two very powerful families, the Canneschi and the Bentivogli. Of the latter, Annibale was the head; of the former, Battista, who, as a means of confirming their mutual confidence, had contracted family alliances; but among men who have the same objects of ambition in view, it is easy to form connections, but difficult to establish friendship. The Bolognese were in a league with the Venetians and Florentines, which had been effected by the influence of Annibale, after they had driven out Francesco Piccinino; and Battista, knowing how earnestly the duke desired to have the city favorable to him, proposed to assassinate Annibale, and put Bologna into his power. This being agreed upon, on the twenty-fifth of June, 1445, he attacked Annibale with his men, and slew him: and then, with shouts of “the duke, the duke,” rode through the city. The Venetian and Florentine commissaries were in Bologna at the time, and at first kept themselves within doors; but finding that the people, instead of favoring the murderers, assembled in the piazza, armed in great numbers, mourning the death of Annibale, they joined them; and, assembling what forces they could, attacked the Canneschi, soon overpowered them, slew part, and drove the remainder out of the city. Battista, unable to effect his escape, or his enemies his capture, took refuge in a vault of his house, used for storing grain. The friends of the Bentivogli, having sought him all day, and knowing he had not left the city, so terrified his servants, that one of them, a groom, disclosed the place of his concealment, and being drawn forth in complete armor he was slain, his body dragged about the streets, and afterward burned. Thus the duke’s authority was sufficient to prompt the enterprise, but his force was not at hand to support it.

The tumults being settled by the death of Battista, and the flight of the Canneschi, Bologna still remained in the greatest confusion. There not being one of the house of Bentivogli of age to govern, Annibale having left but one son whose name was Giovanni, only six years old, it was apprehended that disunion would ensue among the Bentivogli, and cause the return of the Cannecshi, and the ruin both of their own country and party. While in this state of apprehension, Francesco, sometime Count di Poppi, being at Bologna, informed the rulers of the city, that if they wished to be governed by one of the blood of Annibale, he could tell them of one; and related that about twenty years ago, Ercole, cousin of Annibale, being at Poppi, became acquainted with a girl of the castle, of whom was born a son named Santi, whom Ercole, on many occasions acknowledged to be his own, nor could he deny it, for whoever knew him and saw the boy, could not fail to observe the strongest resemblance. The citizens gave credit to the tale, and immediately sent to Florence to see the young man, and procure of Cosmo and Neri permission to return with him to Bologna. The reputed father of Santi was dead, and he lived under the protection of his uncle, whose name was Antonio da Cascese. Antonio was rich, childless, and a friend of Neri, to whom the matter becoming known, he thought it ought neither to be despised nor too hastily accepted; and that it would be best for Santi and those who had been sent from Bologna, to confer in the presence of Cosmo. They were accordingly introduced, and Santi was not merely honored but adored by them, so greatly were they influenced by the spirit of party. However, nothing was done at the time, except that Cosmo, taking Santi apart, spoke to him thus: “No one can better advise you in this matter than yourself; for you have to take that course to which your own mind prompts you. If you be the son of Ercole Bentivoglio, you will naturally aspire to those pursuits which are proper to your family and worthy of your father; but if you be the son of Agnolo da Cascese, you will remain in Florence, and basely spend the remainder of your days in some branch of the woolen trade.” These words greatly influenced the youth, who, though he had at first almost refused to adopt such a course, said, he would submit himself wholly to what Cosmo and Neri should determine. They, assenting to the request of the Bolognese, provided suitable apparel, horses, and servants; and in a few days he was escorted by a numerous cavalcade to Bologna, where the guardianship of Annibale’s son and of the city were placed in his hands. He conducted himself so prudently, that although all his ancestors had been slain by their enemies, he lived in peace and died respected by everyone.

After the death of Niccolo Piccinino and the peace of La Marca, Filippo wishing to procure a leader of his forces, secretly negotiated with Ciarpellone, one of the principal captains of Count Francesco, and arrangements having been made, Ciarpellone asked permission to go to Milan to take possession of certain castles which had been given him by Filippo during the late wars. The count suspecting what was in progress, in order to prevent the duke from accommodating himself at his expense, caused Ciarpellone to be arrested, and soon afterward put to death; alleging that he had been detected plotting against him. Filippo was highly annoyed and indignant, which the Venetians and the Florentines were glad to observe, for their greatest fear was, that the duke and the count should become friends.

The duke’s anger caused the renewal of war in La Marca. Gismondo Malatesti, lord of Rimino, being son-in-law of the count, expected to obtain Pesaro; but the count, having obtained possession, gave it to his brother, Alessandro. Gismondo, offended at this, was still further exasperated at finding that Federigo di Montefeltro, his enemy, by the count’s assistance, gained possession of Urbino. He therefore joined the duke, and solicited the pope and the king to make war against the count, who, to give Gismondo a taste of the war he so much desired, resolved to take the initiative, and attacked him immediately. Thus Romagna and La Marca were again in complete confusion, for Filippo, the king, and the pope, sent powerful assistance to Gismondo, while the Florentines and Venetians supplied the count with money, though not with men. Nor was Filippo satisfied with the war in Romagna, but also desired to take Cremona and Pontremoli from the count; but Pontremoli was defended by the Florentines, and Cremona by the Venetians. Thus the war was renewed in Lombardy, and after several engagements in the Cremonese, Francesco Piccinino, the leader of the duke’s forces, was routed at Casale, by Micheletto and the Venetian troops. This victory gave the Venetians hope of obtaining the duke’s dominions. They sent a commissary to Cremona, attacked the Ghiaradadda, and took the whole of it, except Crema. Then crossing the Adda, they overran the country as far as Milan. Upon this the duke had recourse to Alfonso, and entreated his assistance, pointing out the danger his kingdom would incur if Lombardy were to fall into the hands of the Venetians. Alfonso promised to send him troops, but apprised him of the difficulties which would attend their passage, without the permission of the count.

Filippo, driven to extremity, then had recourse to Francesco, and begged he would not abandon his father-in-law, now that he had become old and blind. The count was offended with the duke for making war against him; but he was jealous of the increasing greatness of the Venetians, and he himself began to be in want of money, for the League supplied him sparingly. The Florentines, being no longer in fear of the duke, ceased to stand in need of the count, and the Venetians desired his ruin; for they thought Lombardy could not be taken from him except by this means; yet while Filippo sought to gain him over, and offered him the entire command of his forces, on condition that he should restore La Marca to the pope and quit the Venetian alliance, ambassadors were sent to him by that republic, promising him Milan, if they took it, and the perpetual command of their forces, if he would push the war in La Marca, and prevent Alfonso from sending troops into Lombardy. The offers of the Venetians were great, as also were their claims upon him, having begun the war in order to save him from losing Cremona; while the injuries received from the duke were fresh in his memory, and his promises had lost all influence, still the count hesitated; for on the one hand, were to be considered his obligations to the League, his pledged faith, their recent services, and his hopes of the future, all which had their influence on him; on the other, were the entreaties of his father-in-law, and above all, the bane which he feared would be concealed under the specious offers of the Venetians, for he doubted not, that both with regard to Milan and their other promises, if they were victorious, he would be at their mercy, to which no prudent men would ever submit if he could avoid it. These difficulties in the way of his forming a determination, were obviated by the ambition of the Venetians, who, seeing a chance of occupying Cremona, from secret intelligence with that city, under a different pretext, sent troops into its neighborhood; but the affair was discovered by those who commanded Cremona for the count, and measures were adopted which prevented its success. Thus without obtaining Cremona, they lost the count’s friendship, who, now being free from all other considerations, joined the duke.

CHAPTER III

Death of Filippo Visconti, duke of Milan — The Milanese appoint Sforza their captain — Milan becomes a republic — The pope endeavors to restore peace to Italy — The Venetians oppose this design — Alfonso attacks the Florentines — The neighborhood of Piombino becomes the principal theater of war — Scarcity in the Florentine camp — Disorders occur in the Neapolitan and Florentine armies — Alfonso sues for peace and is compelled to retreat — Pavia surrenders to the count — Displeasure of the Milanese — The count besieges Caravaggio — The Venetians endeavor to relieve the place — They are routed by the count before Caravaggio.

Pope Eugenius being dead, was succeeded by Nicholas V. The count had his whole army at Cotignola, ready to pass into Lombardy, when intelligence was brought him of the death of Filippo, which happened on the last day of August, 1447. This event greatly afflicted him, for he doubted whether his troops were in readiness, on account of their arrears of pay; he feared the Venetians, who were his armed enemies, he having recently forsaken them and taken part with the duke; he was in apprehension from Alfonso, his inveterate foe; he had no hope from the pontiff or the Florentines; for the latter were allies of the Venetians, and he had seized the territories of the former. However, he resolved to face his fortune and be guided by circumstances; for it often happens, that when engaged in business valuable ideas are suggested, which in a state of inaction would never have occurred. He had great hopes, that if the Milanese were disposed to defend themselves against the ambition of the Venetians, they could make use of no other power but his. Therefore, he proceeded confidently into the Bolognese territory, thence to Modena and Reggio, halted with his forces upon the Lenza, and sent to offer his services at Milan. On the death of the duke, part of the Milanese were inclined to establish a republic; others wished to choose a prince, and of these, one part favored the count, and another Alfonso. However, the majority being in favor of freedom, they prevailed over the rest, and organized a republic, to which many cities of the Duchy refused obedience; for they, too, desired to live in the enjoyment of their liberty, and even those who did not embrace such views, refused to submit to the sovereignty of the Milanese. Lodi and Piacenza surrendered themselves to the Venetians; Pavia and Parma became free. This confused state of things being known to the count, he proceeded to Cremona, where his ambassadors and those of the Milanese arranged for him to command the forces of the new republic, with the same remuneration he had received from the duke at the time of his decease. To this they added the possession of Brescia, until Verona was recovered, when he should have that city and restore Brescia to the Milanese.

Before the duke’s death, Pope Nicholas, after his assumption of the pontificate, sought to restore peace among the princes of Italy, and with this object endeavored, in conjunction with the ambassadors sent by the Florentines to congratulate him on his accession, to appoint a diet at Ferrara to attempt either the arrangement of a long truce, or the establishment of peace. A congress was accordingly held in that city, of the pope’s legate and the Venetian, ducal, and Florentine representatives. King Alfonso had no envoy there. He was at Tivoli with a great body of horse and foot, and favorable to the duke; both having resolved, that having gained the count over to their side, they would openly attack the Florentines and Venetians, and till the arrival of the count in Lombardy, take part in the treaty for peace at Ferrara, at which, though the king did not appear, he engaged to concur in whatever course the duke should adopt. The conference lasted several days, and after many debates, resolved on either a truce for five years, or a permanent peace, whichsoever the duke should approve; and the ducal ambassadors, having returned to Milan to learn his decision, found him dead. Notwithstanding this, the Milanese were disposed to adopt the resolutions of the assembly, but the Venetians refused, indulging great hopes of becoming masters of Lombardy, particularly as Lodi and Piacenza, immediately after the duke’s death, had submitted to them. They trusted that either by force or by treaty they could strip Milan of her power; and then so press her, as to compel her also to surrender before any assistance could arrive; and they were the more confident of this from seeing the Florentines involved in war with King Alfonso.

The king being at Tivoli, and designing to pursue his enterprise against Tuscany, as had been arranged between himself and Filippo, judging that the war now commenced in Lombardy would give him both time and opportunity, and wishing to have a footing in the Florentine state before he openly commenced hostilities, opened a secret understanding with the fortress of Cennina, in the Val d’Arno Superiore, and took possession of it. The Florentines, surprised with this unexpected event, perceiving the king already in action, and resolved to do them all the injury in his power, hired forces, created a council of ten for management of the war, and prepared for the conflict in their usual manner. The king was already in the Siennese, and used his utmost endeavors to reduce the city, but the inhabitants of Sienna were firm in their attachment to the Florentines, and refused to receive him within their walls or into any of their territories. They furnished him with provisions, alleging in excuse, the enemy’s power and their inability to resist. The king, finding he could not enter by the Val d’Arno, as he had first intended, both because Cennina had been already retaken, and because the Florentines were now in some measure prepared for their defense, turned toward Volterra, and occupied many fortresses in that territory. Thence he proceeded toward Pisa, and with the assistance of Fazio and Arrigo de’ Conti, of the Gherardesca, took some castles, and issuing from them, assailed Campiglia, but could not take it, the place being defended by the Florentines, and it being now in the depth of winter. Upon this the king, leaving garrisons in the places he had taken to harass the surrounding country, withdrew with the remainder of his army to quarters in the Siennese. The Florentines, aided by the season, used the most active exertions to provide themselves troops, whose captains were Federigo, lord of Urbino, and Gismondo Malatesti da Rimino, who, though mutual foes, were kept so united by the prudence of the commissaries, Neri di Gino and Bernardetto de’ Medici, that they broke up their quarters while the weather was still very severe and recovered not only the places that had been taken in the territory of Pisa, but also the Pomerancie in the neighborhood of Volterra, and so checked the king’s troops, which at first had overrun the Maremma, that they could scarcely retain the places they had been left to garrison.

Upon the return of the spring the commissaries halted with their whole force, consisting of five thousand horse and two thousand foot, at the Spedaletto. The king approached with his army, amounting to fifteen thousand men, within three miles of Campiglia, but when it was expected he would attack the place he fell upon Piombino, hoping, as it was insufficiently provided, to take it with very little trouble, and thus acquire a very important position, the loss of which would be severely felt by the Florentines; for from it he would be able to exhaust them with a long war, obtain his own provision by sea, and harass the whole territory of Pisa. They were greatly alarmed at this attack, and, considering that if they could remain with their army among the woods of Campiglia, the king would be compelled to retire either in defeat or disgrace. With this view they equipped four galleys at Livorno, and having succeeded in throwing three hundred infantry into Piombino, took up their own position at the Caldane, a place where it would be difficult to attack them; and they thought it would be dangerous to encamp among the thickets of the plain.

The Florentine army depended for provisions on the surrounding places, which, being poor and thinly inhabited, had difficulty in supplying them. Consequently the troops suffered, particularly from want of wine, for none being produced in that vicinity, and unable to procure it from more distant places, it was impossible to obtain a sufficient quantity. But the king, though closely pressed by the Florentines, was well provided except in forage, for he obtained everything else by sea. The Florentines, desirous to supply themselves in the same manner, loaded four vessels with provisions, but, upon their approach, they were attacked by seven of the king’s galleys, which took two of them and put the rest to flight. This disaster made them despair of procuring provisions, so that two hundred men of a foraging party, principally for want of wine, deserted to the king, and the rest complained that they could not live without it, in a situation where the heat was so excessive and the water bad. The commissaries therefore determined to quit the place, and endeavor to recover those castles which still remained in the enemy’s power; who, on his part, though not suffering from want of provisions, and greatly superior in numbers, found his enterprise a failure, from the ravages made in his army by those diseases which the hot season produces in marshy localities; and which prevailed to such an extent that many died daily, and nearly all were affected. These circumstances occasioned overtures of peace. The king demanded fifty thousand florins, and the possession of Piombino. When the terms were under consideration, many citizens, desirous of peace, would have accepted them, declaring there was no hope of bringing to a favorable conclusion a war which required so much money to carry it on. But Neri Capponi going to Florence, placed the matter in a more correct light, and it was then unanimously determined to reject the proposal, and take the lord of Piombino under their protection, with an alliance offensive and defensive, provided he did not abandon them, but assist in their defense as hitherto. The king being informed of this resolution, saw that, with his reduced army, he could not gain the place, and withdrew in the same condition as if completely routed, leaving behind him two thousand dead. With the remainder of his sick troops he retired to the Siennese territory, and thence to his kingdom, incensed against the Florentines, and threatening them with new wars upon the return of spring.

While these events were proceeding in Tuscany the Count Sforza, having become leader of the Milanese forces, strenuously endeavored to secure the friendship of Francesco Piccinino, who was also in their service, that he might support him in his enterprises, or be less disposed to do him injury. He then took the field with his army, upon which the people of Pavia, conscious of their inability to resist him, and unwilling to obey the Milanese, offered to submit themselves to his authority, on condition that he should not subject them to the power of Milan. The count desired the possession of Pavia, and considered the circumstance a happy omen, as it would enable him to give a color to his designs. He was not restrained from treachery either by fear or shame; for great men consider failure disgraceful, — a fraudulent success the contrary. But he was apprehensive that his possession of the city would excite the animosity of the Milanese, and perhaps induce them to throw themselves under the power of the Venetians. If he refused to accept the offer, he would have occasion to fear the duke of Savoy, to whom many citizens were inclined to submit themselves; and either alternative would deprive him of the sovereignty of Lombardy. Concluding there was less danger in taking possession of the city than in allowing another to have it, he determined to accept the proposal of the people of Pavia, trusting he would be able to satisfy the Milanese, to whom he pointed out the danger they must have incurred had he not complied with it; for her citizens would have surrendered themselves to the Venetians or to the duke of Savoy; so that in either case they would have been deprived of the government, and therefore they ought to be more willing to have himself as their neighbor and friend, than a hostile power such as either of the others, and their enemy. The Milanese were upon this occasion greatly perplexed, imagining they had discovered the count’s ambition, and the end he had in view; but they thought it desirable to conceal their fears, for they did not know, if the count were to desert them, to whom they could have recourse except the Venetians, whose pride and tyranny they naturally dreaded. They therefore resolved not to break with the count, but by his assistance remedy the evils with which they were threatened, hoping that when freed from them they might rescue themselves from him also; for at that time they were assailed not only by the Venetians but by the Genoese and the duke of Savoy, in the name of Charles of Orleans, the son of a sister of Filippo, but whom the count easily vanquished. Thus their only remaining enemies were the Venetians, who, with a powerful army, determined to occupy their territories, and had already taken possession of Lodi and Piacenza, before which latter place the count encamped; and, after a long siege, took and pillaged the city. Winter being set in, he led his forces into quarters, and then withdrew to Cremona, where, during the cold season, he remained in repose with his wife.

In the spring, the Venetian and Milanese armies again took the field. It was the design of the Milanese, first to recover Lodi and then to come to terms with the Venetians; for the expenses of the war had become very great, and they were doubtful of their general’s sincerity, so that they were anxious alike for the repose of peace, and for security against the count. They therefore resolved that the army should march to the siege of Carravaggio, hoping that Lodi would surrender, on that fortress being wrested from the enemy’s hands. The count obeyed, though he would have preferred crossing the Adda and attacking the Brescian territory. Having encamped before Caravaggio, he so strongly entrenched himself, that if the enemy attempted to relieve the place, they would have to attack him at a great disadvantage. The Venetian army, led by Micheletto, approached within two bowshots of the enemy’s camp, and many skirmishes ensued. The count continued to press the fortress, and reduced it to the very last extremity, which greatly distressed the Venetians, since they knew the loss of it would involve the total failure of their expedition. Very different views were entertained by their military officers respecting the best mode of relieving the place, but they saw no course open except to attack the enemy in his trenches, in spite of all obstacles. The castle was, however, considered of such paramount importance, that the Venetian senate, though naturally timid, and averse to all hazardous undertakings, chose rather to risk everything than allow it to fall into the hands of the enemy.

They therefore resolved to attack the count at all events, and early the next morning commenced their assault upon a point which was least defended. At the first charge, as commonly happens in a surprise, Francesco’s whole army was thrown into dismay. Order, however, was soon so completely restored by the count, that the enemy, after various efforts to gain the outworks, were repulsed and put to flight; and so entirely routed, that of twelve thousand horse only one thousand escaped the hands of the Milanese, who took possession of all the carriages and military stores; nor had the Venetians ever before suffered such a thorough rout and overthrow. Among the plunder and prisoners, crouching down, as if to escape observation, was found a Venetian commissary, who, in the course of the war and before the fight, had spoken contemptuously of the count, calling him “bastard,” and “base-born.” Being made prisoner, he remembered his faults, and fearing punishment, being taken before the count, was agonized with terror; and, as is usual with mean minds (in prosperity insolent, in adversity abject and cringing), prostrated himself, weeping and begging pardon for the offenses he had committed. The count, taking him by the arm, raised him up, and encouraged him to hope for the best. He then said he wondered how a man so prudent and respectable as himself, could so far err as to speak disparagingly of those who did not merit it; and as regarded the insinuations which he had made against him, he really did not know how Sforza his father, and Madonna Lucia his mother, had proceeded together, not having been there, and having no opportunity of interfering in the matter, so that he was not liable either to blame or praise. However, he knew very well, that in regard to his own actions he had conducted himself so that no one could blame him; and in proof of this he would refer both the Venetian senate and himself to what had happened that day. He then advised him in future to be more respectful in speaking of others, and more cautious in regard to his own proceedings.

CHAPTER IV

The count’s successes — The Venetians come to terms with him — Views of the Venetians — Indignation of the Milanese against the count — Their ambassador’s address to him — The count’s moderation and reply — The count and the Milanese prepare for war — Milanese ambassadors at Venice — League of the Venetians and Milanese — The count dupes the Venetians and Milanese — He applies for assistance to the Florentines — Diversity of opinions in Florence on the subject — Neri di Gino Capponi averse to assisting the count — Cosmo de’ Medici disposed to do so — The Florentines sent ambassadors to the count.

After this victory, the count marched into the Brescian territory, occupied the whole country, and then pitched his camp within two miles of the city. The Venetians, having well-grounded fears that Brescia would be next attacked, provided the best defense in their power. They then collected the relics of their army, and, by virtue of the treaty, demanded assistance of the Florentines; who, being relieved from the war with Alfonso, sent them one thousand foot and two thousand horse, by whose aid the Venetians were in a condition to treat for peace. At one time it seemed the fate of their republic to lose by war and win by negotiation; for what was taken from them in battle was frequently restored twofold on the restoration of peace. They knew the Milanese were jealous of the count, and that he wished to be not their captain merely, but their sovereign; and as it was in their power to make peace with either of the two (the one desiring it from ambition, the other from fear), they determined to make choice of the count, and offer him assistance to effect his design; persuading themselves, that as the Milanese would perceive they had been duped by him, they would in revenge place themselves in the power of any one rather than in his; and that, becoming unable either to defend themselves or trust the count, they would be compelled, having no other resource, to fall into their hands. Having taken this resolution, they sounded the count, and found him quite disposed for peace, evidently desirous that the honor and advantage of the victory at Caravaggio should be his own, and not accrue to the Milanese. The parties therefore entered into an agreement, in which the Venetians undertook to pay the count thirteen thousand florins per month, till he should obtain Milan, and to furnish him, during the continuance of the war, four thousand horse and two thousand foot. The count engaged to restore to the Venetians the towns, prisoners, and whatever else had been taken by him during the late campaigns, and content himself with those territories which the duke possessed at the time of his death.

When this treaty became known at Milan, it grieved the citizens more than the victory at Caravaggio had exhilarated them. The rulers of the city mourned, the people complained, women and children wept, and all exclaimed against the count as false and perfidious. Although they could not hope that either prayers or promises would divert him from his ungrateful design, they sent ambassadors to see with what kind of color he would invest his unprincipled proceedings, and being admitted to his presence, one of them spoke to the following effect;— “It is customary with those who wish to obtain a favor, to make use either of prayers, presents, or threats, that pity, convenience, or fear, may induce a compliance with their requests. But as with cruel, avaricious, or, in their own conceit, powerful men, these arguments have no weight, it is vain to hope, either to soften them by prayers, win them by presents, or alarm them by menaces. We, therefore, being now, though late, aware of thy pride, cruelty, and ambition, come hither, not to ask aught, nor with the hope, even if we were so disposed, of obtaining it, but to remind thee of the benefits thou hast received from the people of Milan, and to prove with what heartless ingratitude thou hast repaid them, that at least, under the many evils oppressing us, we may derive some gratification from telling thee how and by whom they have been produced. Thou canst not have forgotten thy wretched condition at the death of the duke Filippo; the king and the pope were both thine enemies; thou hadst abandoned the Florentines and the Venetians, who, on account of their just indignation, and because they stood in no further need of thee, were almost become thy declared enemies. Thou wert exhausted by thy wars against the church; with few followers, no friends, or any money; hopeless of being able to preserve either thy territories or thy reputation. From these circumstances thy ruin must have ensued, but for our simplicity; we received thee to our home, actuated by reverence for the happy memory of our duke, with whom, being connected by marriage and renewed alliance, we believed thy affection would descend to those who had inherited his authority, and that, if to the benefits he had conferred on thee, our own were added, the friendship we sought to establish would not only be firm, but inseparable; with this impression, we added Verona or Brescia to thy previous appointments. What more could we either give or promise thee? What else couldst thou, not from us merely, but from any others, have either had or expected? Thou receivedst from us an unhoped-for benefit, and we, in return, an unmerited wrong. Neither hast thou deferred until now the manifestation of thy base designs; for no sooner wert thou appointed to command our armies, than, contrary to every dictate of propriety, thou didst accept Pavia, which plainly showed what was to be the result of thy friendship; but we bore with the injury, in hope that the greatness of the advantage would satisfy thy ambition. Alas! those who grasp at all cannot be satisfied with a part. Thou didst promise that we should possess the conquests which thou might afterward make; for thou wert well aware that what was given at many times might be withdrawn at once, as was the case after the victory at Caravaggio, purchased by our money and blood, and followed by our ruin. Oh! unhappy states, which have to guard against their oppressor; but much more wretched those who have to trust to mercenary and faithless arms like thine! May our example instruct posterity, since that of Thebes and Philip of Macedon, who, after victory over her enemies, from being her captain became her foe and her prince, could not avail us.

“The only fault of which we are conscious is our over-weening confidence in one whom we ought not to have trusted; for thy past life, thy restless mind, incapable of repose, ought to have put us on our guard; neither ought we to have confided in one who betrayed the lord of Lucca, set a fine upon the Florentines and the Venetians, defied the duke, despised the king, and besides all this, persecuted the church of God, and the Divinity himself with innumerable atrocities. We ought not to have fancied that so many potentates possessed less influence over the mind of Francesco Sforza, than the Milanese; or that he would preserve unblemished that faith towards us which he had on so many occasions broken with them. Still this want of caution in us does not excuse the perfidy in thee; nor can it obliterate the infamy with which our just complaints will blacken thy character throughout the world, or prevent the remorse of thy conscience, when our arms are used for our own destruction; for thou wilt see that the sufferings due to parricides are fully deserved by thee. And though ambition should blind thine eyes, the whole world, witness to thine iniquity, will compel thee to open them; God himself will unclose them, if perjuries, if violated faith, if treacheries displease him, and if, as ever, he is still the enemy of the wicked. Do not, therefore, promise thyself any certainty of victory; for the just wrath of the Almighty will weigh heavily upon thee; and we are resolved to lose our liberty only with our lives; but if we found we could not ultimately defend it, we would submit ourselves to anyone rather than to thee. And if our sins be so great that in spite of our utmost resolution, we should still fall into thy hands, be quite assured, that the sovereignty which is commenced in deceit and villainy, will terminate either in thyself or thy children with ignominy and blood.”

The count, though not insensible to the just reproaches of the Milanese, did not exhibit either by words or gestures any unusual excitement, and replied, that “He willingly attributed to their angry feelings all the serious charges of their indiscreet harangue; and he would reply to them in detail, were he in the presence of anyone who could decide their differences; for it would be evident that he had not injured the Milanese, but only taken care that they should not injure him. They well knew how they had proceeded after the victory of Caravaggio; for, instead of rewarding him with either Verona or Brescia, they sought peace with the Venetians, that all the blame of the quarrel might rest on him, themselves obtaining the fruit of victory, the credit of peace, and all the advantages that could be derived from the war. It would thus be manifest they had no right to complain, when he had effected the arrangements which they first attempted to make; and that if he had deferred to do so a little longer, he would have had reason to accuse them of the ingratitude with which they were now charging him. Whether the charge were true or false, that God, whom they had invoked to avenge their injuries, would show at the conclusion of the war, and would demonstrate which was most his friend, and who had most justice on their side.”

Upon the departure of the ambassadors, the count determined to attack the Milanese, who prepared for their defense, and appointed Francesco and Jacopo Piccinino (attached to their cause, on account of the ancient feud of the families of Braccio and Sforza) to conduct their forces in support of liberty; at least till they could deprive the count of the aid of the Venetians, who they did not think would long be either friendly or faithful to him. On the other hand, the count, perfectly aware of this, thought it not imprudent, supposing the obligation of the treaty insufficient, to bind them by the ties of interest; and, therefore, in assigning to each their portion of the enterprise, he consented that the Venetians should attack Crema, and himself, with the other forces, assail the remainder of the territory. The advantage of this arrangement kept the Venetians so long in alliance with the count, that he was enabled to conquer the whole of the Milanese territory, and to press the city so closely, that the inhabitants could not provide themselves with necessaries; despairing of success, they sent envoys to the Venetians to beg they would compassionate their distress, and, as ought to be the case between republics, assist them in defense of their liberty against a tyrant, whom, if once master of their city, they would be unable to restrain; neither did they think he would be content with the boundaries assigned him by the treaty, but would expect all the dependencies of Milan.

The Venetians had not yet taken Crema, and wishing before they changed sides, to effect this point, they PUBLICLY answered the envoys, that their engagements with the count prevented them from defending the Milanese; but SECRETLY, gave them every assurance of their wish to do so.

The count had approached so near Milan with his forces, that he was disputing the suburbs with the inhabitants, when the Venetians having taken Crema, thought they need no longer hesitate to declare in favor of the Milanese, with whom they made peace and entered into alliance; among the terms of which was the defense of their liberty unimpaired. Having come to this agreement, they ordered their forces to withdraw from the count’s camp and to return to the Venetian territory. They informed him of the peace made with the Milanese, and gave him twenty days to consider what course he would adopt. He was not surprised at the step taken by the Venetians, for he had long foreseen it, and expected its occurrence daily; but when it actually took place, he could not avoid feeling regret and displeasure similar to what the Milanese had experienced when he abandoned them. He took two days to consider the reply he would make to the ambassadors whom the Venetians had sent to inform him of the treaty, and during this time he determined to dupe the Venetians, and not abandon his enterprise; therefore, appearing openly to accept the proposal for peace, he sent his ambassadors to Venice with full credentials to effect the ratification, but gave them secret orders not to do so, and with pretexts or caviling to put it off. To give the Venetians greater assurance of his sincerity, he made a truce with the Milanese for a month, withdrew from Milan and divided his forces among the places he had taken. This course was the occasion of his victory and the ruin of the Milanese; for the Venetians, confident of peace, were slow in preparing for war, and the Milanese finding the truce concluded, the enemy withdrawn, and the Venetians their friends, felt assured that the count had determined to abandon his design. This idea injured them in two ways: one, by neglecting to provide for their defense; the next, that, being seed-time, they sowed a large quantity of grain in the country which the enemy had evacuated, and thus brought famine upon themselves. On the other hand, all that was injurious to his enemies favored the count, and the time gave him opportunity to take breath and provide himself with assistance.

The Florentines during the war of Lombardy had not declared in favor of either party, or assisted the count either in defense of the Milanese or since; for he never having been in need had not pressingly requested it; and they only sent assistance to the Venetians after the rout at Caravaggio, in pursuance of the treaty. Count Francesco, standing now alone, and not knowing to whom else he could apply, was compelled to request immediate aid of the Florentines, publicly from the state, and privately from friends, particularly from Cosmo de’ Medici, with whom he had always maintained a steady friendship, and by whom he had constantly been faithfully advised and liberally supported. Nor did Cosmo abandon him in his extreme necessity, but supplied him generously from his own resources, and encouraged him to prosecute his design. He also wished the city publicly to assist him, but there were difficulties in the way. Neri di Gino Capponi, one of the most powerful citizens of Florence, thought it not to the advantage of the city, that the count should obtain Milan; and was of opinion that it would be more to the safety of Italy for him to ratify the peace than pursue the war. In the first place, he apprehended that the Milanese, through their anger against the count, would surrender themselves entirely to the Venetians, which would occasion the ruin of all. Supposing he should occupy Milan, it appeared to him that so great military superiority, combined with such an extent of territory, would be dangerous to themselves, and that if as count he was intolerable, he would become doubly so as duke. He therefore considered it better for the republic of Florence and for Italy, that the count should be content with his military reputation, and that Lombardy should be divided into two republics, which could never be united to injure others, and separately are unable to do so. To attain this he saw no better means than to refrain from aiding the count, and continuing in the former league with the Venetians. These reasonings were not satisfactory to Cosmo’s friends, for they imagined that Neri had argued thus, not from a conviction of its advantage to the republic, but to prevent the count, as a friend of Cosmo, from becoming duke, apprehending that Cosmo would, in consequence of this, become too powerful.

Cosmo, in reply, pointed out, that to lend assistance to the count would be highly beneficial both to Italy and the republic; for it was unwise to imagine the Milanese could preserve their own liberty; for the nature of their community, their mode of life, and their hereditary feuds were opposed to every kind of civil government, so that it was necessary, either that the count should become duke of Milan, or the Venetians her lords. And surely under such circumstances, no one could doubt which would be most to their advantage, to have for their neighbor a powerful friend or a far more powerful foe. Neither need it be apprehended that the Milanese, while at war with the count, would submit to the Venetians; for the count had a stronger party in the city, and the Venetians had not, so that whenever they were unable to defend themselves as freemen, they would be more inclined to obey the count than the Venetians.

These diverse views kept the city long in suspense; but at length it was resolved to send ambassadors to the count to settle the terms of agreement, with instructions, that if they found him in such a condition as to give hopes of his ultimate success, they were to close with him, but, if otherwise, they were to draw out the time in diplomacy.

CHAPTER V

Prosecution of the war between the count and the Milanese — The Milanese reduced to extremity — The people rise against the magistrates — Milan surrenders to the count — League between the new duke of Milan and the Florentines, and between the king of Naples and the Venetians — Venetian and Neapolitan ambassadors at Florence — Answer of Cosmo de’ Medici to the Venetian ambassador — Preparations of the Venetians and the king of Naples for the war — The Venetians excite disturbances in Bologna — Florence prepares for war — The emperor, Frederick III. at Florence — War in Lombardy between the duke of Milan and the Venetians — Ferrando, son of the king of Naples, marches into Tuscany against the Florentines.

The ambassadors were at Reggio when they heard that the count had become lord of Milan; for as soon as the truce had expired, he approached the city with his forces, hoping quickly to get possession of it in spite of the Venetians, who could bring no relief except from the side of the Adda, which route he could easily obstruct, and therefore had no apprehension (being then winter) of their arrival, and he trusted that, before the return of spring, he would be victorious, particularly, as by the death of Francesco Piccinino, there remained only Jacopo his brother, to command the Milanese. The Venetians had sent an ambassador to Milan to confirm the citizens in their resolution of defense, promising them powerful and immediate aid. During the winter a few slight skirmishes had taken place between the count and the Venetians; but on the approach of milder weather, the latter, under Pandolfo Malatesti, halted with their army upon the Adda, and considering whether, in order to succor the Milanese, they ought to risk a battle, Pardolfo, their general, aware of the count’s abilities, and the courage of his army, said it would be unadvisable to do so, and that, under the circumstances, it was needless, for the count, being in great want of forage, could not keep the field, and must soon retire. He therefore advised them to remain encamped, to keep the Milanese in hope, and prevent them from surrendering. This advice was approved by the Venetians, both as being safe, and because, by keeping the Milanese in this necessity, they might be the sooner compelled to submit to their dominion; for they felt quite sure that the injuries they had received would always prevent their submission to the count.

In the meantime, the Milanese were reduced to the utmost misery; and as the city usually abounded with poor, many died of hunger in the streets; hence arose complaints and disturbances in several parts, which alarmed the magistrates, and compelled them to use their utmost exertions to prevent popular meetings. The multitude are always slow to resolve on commotion; but the resolution once formed, any trivial circumstance excites it to action. Two men in humble life, talking together near the Porta Nuova of the calamities of the city, their own misery, and the means that might be adopted for their relief, others beginning to congregate, there was soon collected a large crowd; in consequence of it a report was spread that the neighborhood of Porta Nuova had risen against the government. Upon this, all the lower orders, who only waited for an example, assembled in arms, and chose Gasparre da Vicomercato to be their leader. They then proceeded to the place where the magistrates were assembled, and attacked them so impetuously that all who did not escape by flight were slain: among the number, as being considered a principal cause of the famine, and gratified at their distress, fell Lionardo Veniero, the Venetian ambassador. Having thus almost become masters of the city, they considered what course was next to be adopted to escape from the horrors surrounding them, and to procure peace. A feeling universally prevailed, that as they could not preserve their own liberty, they ought to submit to a prince who could defend them. Some proposed King Alfonso, some the duke of Savoy, and others the king of France, but none mentioned the count, so great was the general indignation against him. However, disagreeing with the rest, Gasparre da Vicomercato proposed him, and explained in detail that if they desired relief from war, no other plan was open, since the people of Milan required a certain and immediate peace, and not a distant hope of succor. He apologized for the count’s proceedings, accused the Venetians, and all the powers of Italy, of which some from ambition and others from avarice were averse to their possessing freedom. Having to dispose of their liberty, it would be preferable, he said, to obey one who knew and could defend them; so that, by their servitude they might obtain peace, and not bring upon themselves greater evils and more dangerous wars. He was listened to with the most profound attention; and, having concluded his harangue, it was unanimously resolved by the assembly, that the count should be called in, and Gasparre was appointed to wait upon him and signify their desire. By the people’s command he conveyed the pleasing and happy intelligence to the count, who heard it with the utmost satisfaction, and entered Milan as prince on the twenty-sixth of February, 1450, where he was received with the greatest possible joy by those who, only a short time previously had heaped on him all the slanders that hatred could inspire.

The news of this event reaching Florence, orders were immediately sent to the envoys who were upon the way to Milan, that instead of treating for his alliance with the count, they should congratulate the duke upon his victory; they, arranging accordingly, had a most honorable reception, and were treated with all possible respect; for the duke well knew that in all Italy he could not find braver or more faithful friends, to defend him against the power of the Venetians, than the Florentines, who, being no longer in fear of the house of Visconti, found themselves opposed by the Aragonese and Venetians; for the Aragonese princes of Naples were jealous of the friendship which the Florentines had always evinced for the family of France; and the Venetians seeing the ancient enmity of the Florentines against the Visconti transferred to themselves, resolved to injure them as much as possible; for they knew how pertinaciously and invariably they had persecuted the Lombard princes. These considerations caused the new duke willingly to join the Florentines, and united the Venetians and King Alfonso against their common enemies; impelling them at the same time to hostilities, the king against the Florentines, and the Venetians against the duke, who, being fresh in the government, would, they imagined, be unable to resist them, even with all the aid he could obtain.

But as the league between the Florentines and the Venetians still continued, and as the king, after the war of Piombino, had made peace with the former, it seemed indecent to commence an open rupture until some plausible reason could be assigned in justification of offensive measures. On this account each sent ambassadors to Florence, who, on the part of their sovereigns, signified that the league formed between them was made not for injury to any, but solely for the mutual defense of their states. The Venetian ambassador then complained that the Florentines had allowed Alessandro, the duke’s brother, to pass into Lombardy with his forces; and besides this, had assisted and advised in the treaty made between the duke and the marquis of Mantua, matters which he declared to be injurious to the Venetians, and inconsistent with the friendship hitherto subsisting between the two governments; amicably reminding them, that one who inflicts unmerited injury, gives others just ground of hostility, and that those who break a peace may expect war. The Signory appointed Cosmo de’ Medici to reply to what had been said by the Venetian ambassador, and in a long and excellent speech he recounted the numerous advantages conferred by the city on the Venetian republic; showed what an extent of dominion they had acquired by the money, forces, and counsel of the Florentines, and reminded him that, although the friendship had originated with the Florentines, they had never given occasion of enmity; and as they desired peace, they greatly rejoiced when the treaty was made, if it had been entered into for the sake of peace, and not of war. True it was, he wondered much at the remarks which had been made, seeing that such light and trivial matters should give offense to so great a republic; but if they were worthy of notice he must have it universally understood, that the Florentines wished their country to be free and open to all; and that the duke’s character was such, that if he desired the friendship of the marquis of Mantua, he had no need of anyone’s favor or advice. He therefore feared that these cavils were produced by some latent motive, which it was not thought proper to disclose. Be this as it might, they would freely declare to all, that in the same proportion as the friendship of the Florentines was beneficial their enmity could be destructive.

The matter was hushed up; and the ambassadors, on their departure, appeared perfectly satisfied. But the league between the king and the Venetians made the Florentines and the duke rather apprehend war than hope for a long continuance of peace. They therefore entered into an alliance, and at the same time the enmity of the Venetians transpired by a treaty with the Siennese, and the expulsion of all Florentine subjects from their cities and territories. Shortly after this, Alfonso did the same, without any consideration of the peace made the year previous, and not having even the shadow of an excuse. The Venetians attempted to take Bologna, and having armed the emigrants, and united to them a considerable force, introduced them into the city by night through one of the common sewers. No sooner had they entered, than they raised a cry, by which Santi Bentivogli, being awakened, was told that the whole city was in possession of the rebels. But though many advised him to escape, saying that he could not save the city by his stay, he determined to confront the danger, and taking arms encouraged his followers, assembled a few friends, attacked and routed part of the rebels, slew many more, and drove the remainder out of the city. By this act of bravery all agreed he had fully proved himself a genuine scion of the house of the Bentivogli.

These events and demonstrations gave the Florentines an earnest of approaching war; they consequently followed their usual practice on similar occasions, and created the Council of Ten. They engaged new condottieri, sent ambassadors to Rome, Naples, Venice, Milan, and Sienna, to demand assistance from their friends, gain information about those they suspected, decide such as were wavering, and discover the designs of the foe. From the pope they obtained only general expressions of an amicable disposition and admonitions to peace; from the king, empty excuses for having expelled the Florentines, and offers of safe conduct for whoever should demand it; and although he endeavored, as much as possible, to conceal every indication of his hostile designs, the ambassadors felt convinced of his unfriendly disposition, and observed many preparations tending to the injury of the republic. The League with the duke was strengthened by mutual obligations, and through his means they became friends with the Genoese, the old differences with them respecting reprisals, and other small matters of dispute, being composed, although the Venetians used every possible means to prevent it, and entreated the emperor of Constantinople to expel all Florentines from his dominions; so fierce was the animosity with which they entered on this war, and so powerful their lust of dominion, that without the least hesitation they sought the destruction of those who had been the occasion of their own power. The emperor, however, refused to listen to them. The Venetian senate forbade the Florentine ambassadors to enter their territories, alleging, that being in league with the king, they could not entertain them without his concurrence. The Siennese received the ambassadors with fair words, fearing their own ruin before the League could assist them, and therefore endeavored to appease the powers whose attack they were unable to resist. The Venetians and the king (as was then conjectured) were disposed to send ambassadors to Florence to justify the war. But the Venetian envoy was not allowed to enter the Florentine dominions, and the king’s ambassador, being unwilling to perform his office alone, the embassy was not completed; and thus the Venetians learned, that however little they might esteem the Florentines, the latter had still less respect for them.

In the midst of these fears, the emperor, Frederick III., came into Italy to be crowned. On the thirtieth of January, 1451, he entered Florence with fifteen hundred horse, and was most honorably received by the Signory. He remained in the city till the sixth of February, and then proceeded to Rome for his coronation, where, having been solemnly consecrated, and his marriage celebrated with the empress, who had come to Rome by sea, he returned to Germany, and again passed through Florence in May, with the same honors as upon his arrival. On his return, having derived some benefits from the marquis of Mantua, he conceded to him Modena and Reggio. In the meantime, the Florentines did not fail to prepare themselves for immediate war; and to augment their influence, and strike the enemy with terror, they, in conjunction with the duke, entered into alliance with the king of France for the mutual defense of their states. This treaty was published with great pomp throughout all Italy.

The month of May, 1452, having arrived, the Venetians thought it not desirable to defer any longer their attack upon the duke, and with sixteen thousand horse and six thousand foot assailed his territories in the direction of Lodi, while the marquis of Montferrat, instigated either by his own ambition or the entreaties of the Venetians, did the same on the side of Alexandria. The duke assembled a force of eighteen thousand cavalry and three thousand infantry, garrisoned Alexandria and Lodi, and all the other places where the enemy might annoy them. He then attacked the Brescian territory, and greatly harassed the Venetians; while both parties alike plundered the country and ravaged the smaller towns. Having defeated the marquis of Montferrat at Alexandria, the duke was able to unite his whole force against the Venetians and invade their territory.

While the war in Lombardy proceeded thus, giving rise to various trifling incidents unworthy of recital, King Alfonso and the Florentines carried on hostilities in Tuscany, but in a similarly inefficient manner, evincing no greater talent, and incurring no greater danger. Ferrando, the illegitimate son of Alfonso, entered the country with twelve thousand troops, under the command of Federigo, lord of Urbino. Their first attempt was to attack Fojano, in the Val di Chiane; for, having the Siennese in their favor, they entered the Florentine territory in that direction. The walls of the castle were weak, and it was small, and consequently poorly manned, but the garrison were, among the soldiers of that period, considered brave and faithful. Two hundred infantry were also sent by the Signory for its defense. Before this castle, thus provided, Ferrando sat down, and either from the valor of its defenders or his own deficiencies, thirty-six days elapsed before he took it. This interval enabled the city to make better provision for places of greater importance, to collect forces and conclude more effective arrangements than had hitherto been made. The enemy next proceeded into the district of Chiane, where they attacked two small towns, the property of private citizens, but could not capture them. They then encamped before the Castellina, a fortress upon the borders of the Chianti, within ten miles of Sienna, weak from its defective construction, and still more so by its situation; but, notwithstanding these defects, the assailants were compelled to retire in disgrace, after having lain before it forty-four days. So formidable were those armies, and so perilous those wars, that places now abandoned as untenable were then defended as impregnable.

While Ferrando was encamped in the Chianti he made many incursions, and took considerable booty from the Florentine territories, extending his depredations within six miles of the city, to the great alarm and injury of the people, who at this time, having sent their forces to the number of eight thousand soldiers under Astorre da Faenza and Gismondo Malatesti toward Castel di Colle, kept them at a distance from the enemy, lest they should be compelled to an engagement; for they considered that so long as they were not beaten in a pitched battle, they could not be vanquished in the war generally; for small castles, when lost, were recovered at the peace, and larger places were in no danger, because the enemy would not venture to attack them. The king had also a fleet of about twenty vessels, comprising galleys and smaller craft, which lay off Pisa, and during the siege of Castellina were moored near the Rocca di Vada, which, from the negligence of the governor, he took, and then harassed the surrounding country. However, this annoyance was easily removed by a few soldiers sent by the Florentines to Campiglia, and who confined the enemy to the coast.

CHAPTER VI

Conspiracy of Stefano Porcari against the papal government — The conspirators discovered and punished — The Florentines recover the places they had lost — Gherardo Gambacorti, lord of Val di Bagno, endeavors to transfer his territories to the king of Naples — Gallant conduct of Antonio Gualandi, who counteracts the design of Gambacorti — René of Anjou is called into Italy by the Florentines — René returns to France — The pope endeavors to restore peace — Peace proclaimed — Jacopo Piccinino attacks the Siennese.

The pontiff did not interfere in these affairs further than to endeavor to bring the parties to a mutual accommodation; but while he refrained from external wars he incurred the danger of more serious troubles at home. Stefano Porcari was a Roman citizen, equally distinguished for nobility of birth and extent of learning, but still more by the excellence of his character. Like all who are in pursuit of glory, he resolved either to perform or to attempt something worthy of memory, and thought he could not do better than deliver his country from the hands of the prelates, and restore the ancient form of government; hoping, in the event of success, to be considered a new founder or second father of the city. The dissolute manners of the priesthood, and the discontent of the Roman barons and people, encouraged him to look for a happy termination of his enterprise; but he derived his greatest confidence from those verses of Petrarch in the canzone which begins, “Spirto gentil che quelle membra reggi,” where he says, —

“Sopra il Monte Tarpejo canzon vedra, Un cavalier, ch’ Italia tutta onora, Pensoso piu d’altrui, che di se stesso.”

Stefano, believing poets are sometimes endowed with a divine and prophetic spirit, thought the event must take place which Petrarch in this canzone seemed to foretell, and that he was destined to effect the glorious task; considering himself in learning, eloquence, friends, and influence, superior to any other citizen of Rome. Having taken these impressions, he had not sufficient prudence to avoid discovering his design by his discourse, demeanor, and mode of living; so that the pope becoming acquainted with it, in order to prevent the commission of some rash act, banished him to Bologna and charged the governor of the city to compel his appearance before him once every day. Stefano was not daunted by this first check, but with even greater earnestness prosecuted his undertaking, and, by such means as were available, more cautiously corresponded with his friends, and often went and returned from Rome with such celerity as to be in time to present himself before the governor within the limit allowed for his appearance. Having acquired a sufficient number of partisans, he determined to make the attempt without further delay, and arranged with his friends at Rome to provide an evening banquet, to which all the conspirators were invited, with orders that each should bring with him his most trust-worthy friends, and himself promised to be with him before the entertainment was served. Everything was done according to this orders, and Stefano Porcari arrived at the place appointed. Supper being brought in, he entered the apartment dressed in cloth of gold, with rich ornaments about his neck, to give him a dignified appearance and commanding aspect. Having embraced the company, he delivered a long oration to dispose their minds to the glorious undertaking. He then arranged the measures to be adopted, ordering that one part of them should, on the following morning, take possession of the pontiff’s palace, and that the other should call the people of Rome to arms. The affair came to the knowledge of the pope the same night, some say by treachery among the conspirators, and others that he knew of Porcari’s presence at Rome. Be this as it may, on the night of the supper Stefano, and the greater part of his associates, were arrested, and afterward expiated their crime by death. Thus ended his enterprise; and though some may applaud his intentions, he must stand charged with deficiency of understanding; for such undertakings, though possessing some slight appearance of glory, are almost always attended with ruin.

Gherardo Gambacorti was lord of Val di Bagno, and his ancestors as well as himself had always been in the pay or under the protection of the Florentines. Alfonso endeavored to induce him to exchange his territory for another in the kingdom of Naples. This became known to the Signory, who, in order to ascertain his designs, sent an ambassador to Gambacorti, to remind him of the obligations of his ancestors and himself to their republic, and induce him to continue faithful to them. Gherardo affected the greatest astonishment, assured the ambassador with solemn oaths that no such treacherous thought had ever entered his mind, and that he would gladly go to Florence and pledge himself for the truth of his assertions; but being unable, from indisposition, he would send his son as an hostage. These assurances, and the proposal with which they were accompanied, induced the Florentines to think Gherardo had been slandered, and that his accuser must be alike weak and treacherous. Gherardo, however, hastened his negotiation with redoubled zeal, and having arranged the terms, Alfonso sent Frate Puccio, a knight of Jerusalem, with a strong body of men to the Val di Bagno, to take possession of the fortresses and towns, the people of which, being attached to the Florentine republic, submitted unwillingly.

Frate Puccio had already taken possession of nearly the whole territory, except the fortress of Corzano. Gambacorti was accompanied, while transferring his dominions, by a young Pisan of great courage and address, named Antonio Gualandi, who, considering the whole affair, the strength of the place, the well known bravery of the garrison, their evident reluctance to give it up, and the baseness of Gambacorti, at once resolved to make an effort to prevent the fulfillment of his design; and Gherardo being at the entrance, for the purpose of introducing the Aragonese, he pushed him out with both his hands, and commanded the guards to shut the gate upon such a scoundrel, and hold the fortress for the Florentine republic. When this circumstance became known in Bagno and the neighboring places, the inhabitants took up arms against the king’s forces, and, raising the Florentine standard, drove them out. The Florentines learning these events, imprisoned Gherardo’s son, and sent troops to Bagno for the defense of the territory, which having hitherto been governed by its own prince, now became a vicariate. The traitor Gherardo escaped with difficulty, leaving his wife, family, and all his property, in the hands of those whom he had endeavored to betray. This affair was considered by the Florentines of great importance; for had the king succeeded in securing the territory, he might have overrun the Val di Tavere and the Casentino at his pleasure, and would have caused so much annoyance, that they could no longer have allowed their whole force to act against the army of the Aragonese at Sienna.

In addition to the preparations made by the Florentines in Italy to resist the hostile League, they sent as ambassador, Agnolo Acciajuoli, to request that the king of France would allow René of Anjou to enter Italy in favor of the duke and themselves, and also, that by his presence in the country, he might defend his friends and attempt the recovery of the kingdom of Naples; for which purpose they offered him assistance in men and money. While the war was proceeding in Lombardy and Tuscany, the ambassador effected an arrangement with King René, who promised to come into Italy during the month of June, the League engaging to pay him thirty thousand florins upon his arrival at Alexandria, and ten thousand per month during the continuance of the war. In pursuance of this treaty, King René commenced his march into Italy, but was stopped by the duke of Savoy and the marquis of Montferrat, who, being in alliance with the Venetians, would not allow him to pass. The Florentine ambassador advised, that in order to uphold the influence of his friends, he should return to Provence, and conduct part of his forces into Italy by sea, and, in the meantime, endeavor, by the authority of the king of France, to obtain a passage for the remainder through the territories of the duke. This plan was completely successful; for René came into Italy by sea, and his forces, by the mediation of the king of France, were allowed a passage through Savoy. King René was most honorably received by Duke Francesco, and joining his French with the Italian forces, they attacked the Venetians with so much impetuosity, that they shortly recovered all the places which had been taken in the Cremonese. Not content with this, they occupied nearly the whole Brescian territory; so that the Venetians, unable to keep the field, withdrew close to the walls of Brescia.

Winter coming on, the duke deemed it advisable to retire into quarters, and appointed Piacenza for the forces of René, where, having passed the whole of the cold season of 1453, without attempting anything, the duke thought of taking the field, on the approach of spring, and stripping the Venetians of the remainder of their possessions by land, but was informed by the king that he was obliged of necessity to return to France. This determination was quite new and unexpected to the duke, and caused him the utmost concern; but though he immediately went to dissuade René from carrying it into effect, he was unable either by promises or entreaties to divert him from his purpose. He engaged, however, to leave part of his forces, and send his son for the service of the League. The Florentines were not displeased at this; for having recovered their territories and castles, they were no longer in fear of Alfonso, and on the other hand, they did not wish the duke to obtain any part of Lombardy but what belonged to him. René took his departure, and send his son John into Italy, according to his promise, who did not remain in Lombardy, but came direct to Florence, where he was received with the highest respect.

The king’s departure made the duke desirous of peace. The Venetians, Alfonso, and the Florentines, being all weary of the war, were similarly disposed; and the pope continued to wish it as much as ever; for during this year the Turkish emperor, Mohammed, had taken Constantinople and subdued the whole of Greece. This conquest alarmed the Christians, more especially the Venetians and the pope, who already began to fancy the Mohammedans at their doors. The pope therefore begged the Italian potentates to send ambassadors to himself, with authority to negotiate a general peace, with which all complied; but when the particular circumstances of each case came to be considered, many difficulties were found in the war of effecting it. King Alfonso required the Florentines to reimburse the expenses he had incurred in the war, and the Florentines demanded some compensation from him. The Venetians thought themselves entitled to Cremona from the duke; while he insisted upon the restoration of Bergamo, Brescia, and Crema; so that it seemed impossible to reconcile such conflicting claims. But what could not be effected by a number at Rome was easily managed at Milan and Venice by two; for while the matter was under discussion at Rome, the duke and the Venetians came to an arrangement on the ninth of April, 1454, by virtue of which, each party resumed what they possessed before the war, the duke being allowed to recover from the princes of Montferrat and Savoy the places they had taken. To the other Italian powers a month was allowed to ratify the treaty. The pope and the Florentines, and with them the Siennese and other minor powers, acceded to it within the time. Besides this, the Florentines, the Venetians, and the duke concluded a treaty of peace for twenty-five years. King Alfonso alone exhibited dissatisfaction at what had taken place, thinking he had not been sufficiently considered, that he stood, not on the footing of a principal, but only ranked as an auxiliary, and therefore kept aloof, and would not disclose his intentions. However, after receiving a legate from the pope, and many solemn embassies from other powers, he allowed himself to be persuaded, principally by means of the pontiff, and with his son joined the League for thirty years. The duke and the king also contracted a twofold relationship and double marriage, each giving a daughter to a son of the other. Notwithstanding this, that Italy might still retain the seeds of war, Alfonso would not consent to the peace, unless the League would allow him, without injury to themselves, to make war upon the Genoese, Gismondo Malatesti, and Astorre, prince of Faenza. This being conceded, his son Ferrando, who was at Sienna, returned to the kingdom, having by his coming into Tuscany acquired no dominion and lost a great number of his men.

Upon the establishment of a general peace, the only apprehension entertained was, that it would be disturbed by the animosity of Alfonso against the Genoese; yet it happened otherwise. The king, indeed, did not openly infringe the peace, but it was frequently broken by the ambition of the mercenary troops. The Venetians, as usual on the conclusion of a war, had discharged Jacopo Piccinino, who with some other unemployed condottieri, marched into Romagna, thence into the Siennese, and halting in the country, took possession of many places. At the commencement of these disturbances, and the beginning of the year 1455, Pope Nicholas died, and was succeeded by Calixtus III., who, to put a stop to the war newly broken out so near home, immediately sent Giovanni Ventimiglia, his general, with what forces he could furnish. These being joined by the troops of the Florentines and the duke of Milan, both of whom furnished assistance, attacked Jacopo, near Bolsena, and though Ventimiglia was taken prisoner, yet Jacopo was worsted, and retreated in disorder to Castiglione della Pescaia, where, had he not been assisted by Alfonso, his force would have been completely annihilated. This made it evident that Jacopo’s movement had been made by order of Alfonso, and the latter, as if palpably detected, to conciliate his allies, after having almost alienated them with this unimportant war, ordered Jacopo to restore to the Siennese the places he had taken, and they gave him twenty thousand florins by way of ransom, after which he and his forces were received into the kingdom of Naples.

CHAPTER VII

Christendom alarmed by the progress of the Turks — The Turks routed before Belgrade — Description of a remarkable hurricane — War against the Genoese and Gismondo Malatesti — Genoa submits to the king of France — Death of Alfonso king of Naples — Succeeded by his son Ferrando — The pope designs to give the kingdom of Naples to his nephew Piero Lodovico Borgia — Eulogy of Pius II. — Disturbances in Genoa between John of Anjou and the Fregosi — The Fregosi subdued — John attacks the kingdom of Naples — Ferrando king of Naples routed — Ferrando reinstated — The Genoese cast off the French yoke — John of Anjou routed in the kingdom of Naples.

The pope, though anxious to restrain Jacopo Piccinino, did not neglect to make provision for the defense of Christendom, which seemed in danger from the Turks. He sent ambassadors and preachers into every Christian country, to exhort princes and people to arm in defense of their religion, and with their persons and property to contribute to the enterprise against the common enemy. In Florence, large sums were raised, and many citizens bore the mark of a red cross upon their dress to intimate their readiness to become soldiers of the faith. Solemn processions were made, and nothing was neglected either in public or private, to show their willingness to be among the most forward to assist the enterprise with money, counsel, or men. But the eagerness for this crusade was somewhat abated, by learning that the Turkish army, being at the siege of Belgrade, a strong city and fortress in Hungary, upon the banks of the Danube, had been routed and the emperor wounded; so that the alarm felt by the pope and all Christendom, on the loss of Constantinople, having ceased to operate, they proceeded with deliberately with their preparations for war; and in Hungary their zeal was cooled through the death of Giovanni Corvini the Waiwode, who commanded the Hungarian forces on that memorable occasion, and fell in the battle.

To return to the affairs of Italy. In the year 1456, the disturbances occasioned by Jacopo Piccinino having subsided, and human weapons laid aside, the heavens seemed to make war against the earth; dreadful tempestuous winds then occurring, which produced effects unprecedented in Tuscany, and which to posterity will appear marvelous and unaccountable. On the twenty-fourth of August, about an hour before daybreak, there arose from the Adriatic near Ancona, a whirlwind, which crossing from east to west, again reached the sea near Pisa, accompanied by thick clouds, and the most intense and impenetrable darkness, covering a breadth of about two miles in the direction of its course. Under some natural or supernatural influence, this vast and overcharged volume of condensed vapor burst; its fragments contended with indescribable fury, and huge bodies sometimes ascending toward heaven, and sometimes precipitated upon the earth, struggled, as it were, in mutual conflict, whirling in circles with intense velocity, and accompanied by winds, impetuous beyond all conception; while flashes of awful brilliancy, and murky, lurid flames incessantly broke forth. From these confused clouds, furious winds, and momentary fires, sounds issued, of which no earthquake or thunder ever heard could afford the least idea; striking such awe into all, that it was thought the end of the world had arrived, that the earth, waters, heavens, and entire universe, mingling together, were being resolved into their ancient chaos. Wherever this awful tempest passed, it produced unprecedented and marvelous effects; but these were more especially experienced near the castle of St. Casciano, about eight miles from Florence, upon the hill which separates the valleys of Pisa and Grieve. Between this castle and the Borgo St. Andrea, upon the same hill, the tempest passed without touching the latter, and in the former, only threw down some of the battlements and the chimneys of a few houses; but in the space between them, it leveled many buildings quite to the ground. The roofs of the churches of St. Martin, at Bagnolo, and Santa Maria della Pace, were carried more than a mile, unbroken as when upon their respective edifices. A muleteer and his beasts were driven from the road into the adjoining valley, and found dead. All the large oaks and lofty trees which could not bend beneath its influence, were not only stripped of their branches but borne to a great distance from the places where they grew, and when the tempest had passed over and daylight made the desolation visible, the inhabitants were transfixed with dismay. The country had lost all its habitable character; churches and dwellings were laid in heaps; nothing was heard but the lamentations of those whose possessions had perished, or whose cattle or friends were buried beneath the ruins; and all who witnessed the scene were filled with anguish or compassion. It was doubtless the design of the Omnipotent, rather to threaten Tuscany than to chastise her; for had the hurricane been directed over the city, filled with houses and inhabitants, instead of proceeding among oaks and elms, or small and thinly scattered dwellings, it would have been such a scourge as the mind, with all its ideas of horror, could not have conceived. But the Almighty desired that this slight example should suffice to recall the minds of men to a knowledge of himself and of his power.

To return to our history. King Alfonso was dissatisfied with the peace, and as the war which he had unnecessarily caused Jacopo Piccinino to make against the Siennese, had produced no important result, he resolved to try what could be done against those whom the conditions of the League permitted him to attack. He therefore, in the year 1456, assailed the Genoese, both by sea and by land, designing to deprive the Fregosi of the government and restore the Adorni. At the same time, he ordered Jacopo Piccinino to cross the Tronto, and attack Gismondo Malatesti, who, having fortified his territories, did not concern himself, and this part of the king’s enterprise produced no effect; but his proceedings against Genoa occasioned more wars against himself and his kingdom than he could have wished. Piero Fregoso was then doge of Genoa, and doubting his ability to sustain the attack of the king, he determined to give what he could not hold, to some one who might defend it against his enemies, in hope, that at a future period, he should obtain a return for the benefit conferred. He therefore sent ambassadors to Charles VII. of France, and offered him the government of Genoa. Charles accepted the offer, and sent John of Anjou, the son of King René, who had a short time previously left Florence and returned to France, to take possession with the idea, that he, having learned the manners and customs of Italy, would be able to govern the city; and also that this might give him an opportunity of undertaking the conquest of Naples, of which René, John’s father, had been deprived by Alfonso. John, therefore, proceeded to Genoa, where he was received as prince, and the fortresses, both of the city and the government, given up to him. This annoyed Alfonso, with the fear that he had brought upon himself too powerful an enemy. He was not, however, dismayed; but pursued his enterprise vigorously, and had led his fleet to Porto, below Villamarina, when he died after a sudden illness, and thus John and the Genoese were relieved from the war. Ferrando, who succeeded to the kingdom of his father Alfonso, became alarmed at having so powerful an enemy in Italy, and was doubtful of the disposition of many of his barons, who being desirous of change, he feared would take part with the French. He was also apprehensive of the pope, whose ambition he well knew, and who seeing him new in the government, might design to take it from him. He had no hope except from the duke of Milan, who entertained no less anxiety concerning the affairs of the kingdom than Ferrando; for he feared that if the French were to obtain it, they would endeavor to annex his own dominions; which he knew they considered to be rightfully their own. He, therefore, soon after the death of Alfonso, sent letters and forces to Ferrando; the latter to give him aid and influence, the former to encourage him with an intimation that he would not, under any circumstances, forsake him. The pontiff intended, after the death of Alfonso, to give the kingdom of Naples to his nephew Piero Lodovico Borgia, and, to furnish a decent pretext for his design and obtain the concurrence of the powers of Italy in its favor he signified a wish to restore that realm to the dominion of the church of Rome; and therefore persuaded the duke not to assist Ferrando. But in the midst of these views and opening enterprises, Calixtus died, and Pius II. of Siennese origin, of the family of the Piccolomini, and by name Æneas, succeeded to the pontificate. This pontiff, free from the ties of private interest, having no object but to benefit Christendom and honor the church, at the duke’s entreaty crowned Ferrando king of Naples; judging it easier to establish peace if the kingdom remained in the hands which at present held it, than if he were to favor the views of the French, or, as Calixtus purposed, take it for himself. Ferrando, in acknowledgment of the benefit, created Antonio, one of the pope’s nephews, prince of Malfi, gave him an illegitimate daughter of his own in marriage, and restored Benevento and Terracina to the church.

It thus appeared that the internal dissensions of Italy might be quelled, and the pontiff prepared to induce the powers of Christendom to unite in an enterprise against the Turks (as Calixtus had previously designed) when differences arose between the Fregosi and John of Anjou, the lord of Genoa, which occasioned greater and more important wars than those recently concluded. Pietrino Fregoso was at his castle of Riviera, and thought he had not been rewarded by John in proportion to his family’s merits; for it was by their means the latter had become prince of the city. This impression drove the parties into open enmity; a circumstance gratifying to Ferrando, who saw in it relief from his troubles, and the sole means of procuring his safety: he therefore assisted Pietrino with money and men, trusting to drive John out of the Genoese territory. The latter being aware of his design, sent for aid to France; and, on obtaining it, attacked Pietrino, who, through his numerous friends, entertained the strongest assurance of success; so that John was compelled to keep within the city, into which Pietrino having entered by night, took possession of some parts of it; but upon the return of day, his people were all either slain or made prisoners by John’s troops, and he himself was found among the dead.

This victory gave John hopes of recovering the kingdom; and in October, 1459, he sailed thither from Genoa, with a powerful fleet, and landed at Baia; whence he proceeded to Sessa, by the duke of which place he was favorably received. The prince of Taranto, the Aquilani, with several cities and other princes, also joined him; so that a great part of the kingdom fell into his hands. On this Ferrando applied for assistance to the pope and the duke of Milan; and, to diminish the number of his enemies, made peace with Gismondo Malatesti, which gave so much offense to Jacopo Piccinino, the hereditary enemy of Gismondo, that he resigned his command under Ferrando, and joined his rival. Ferrando also sent money to Federigo, lord of Urbino, and collected with all possible speed what was in those times considered a tolerable army; which, meeting the enemy upon the river Sarni, an engagement ensued in which Ferrando was routed, and many of his principal officers taken. After this defeat, the city of Naples alone, with a few smaller places and princes of inferior note, adhered to Ferrando, the greater part having submitted to John. Jacopo Piccinino, after the victory, advised an immediate march upon Naples; but John declined this, saying, he would first reduce the remainder of the kingdom, and then attack the seat of government. This resolution occasioned the failure of his enterprise; for he did not consider how much more easily the members follow the head than the head the members.

After his defeat, Ferrando took refuge in Naples, whither the scattered remnants of his people followed him; and by soliciting his friends, he obtained money and a small force. He sent again for assistance to the pope and the duke, by both of whom he was supplied more liberally and speedily than before; for they began to entertain most serious apprehensions of his losing the kingdom. His hopes were thus revived; and, marching from Naples, he regained his reputation in his dominions, and soon obtained the places of which he had been deprived. While the war was proceeding in the kingdom, a circumstance occurred by which John of Anjou lost his influence, and all chance of success in the enterprise. The Genoese had become so weary of the haughty and avaricious dominion of the French, that they took arms against the viceroy, and compelled him to seek refuge in the castelletto; the Fregosi and the Adorni united in the enterprise against him, and were assisted with money and troops by the duke of Milan, both for the recovery and preservation of the government. At the same time, King René coming with a fleet to the assistance of his son, and hoping to recover Genoa by means of the castelletto, upon landing his forces was so completely routed, that he was compelled to return in disgrace to Provence. When the news of his father’s defeat reached Naples, John was greatly alarmed, but continued the war for a time by the assistance of those barons who, being rebels, knew they would obtain no terms from Ferrando. At length, after various trifling occurrences, the two royal armies came to an engagement, in which John was routed near Troia, in the year 1463. He was, however, less injured by his defeat than by the desertion of Jacopo Piccinino, who joined Ferrando; and, being abandoned by his troops, he was compelled to take refuge in Istria, and thence withdrew to France. This war continued four years. John’s failure was attributable to negligence; for victory was often within his grasp, but he did not take proper means to secure it. The Florentines took no decisive part in this war. John, king of Aragon, who succeeded upon the death of Alfonso, sent ambassadors to request their assistance for his nephew Ferrando, in compliance with the terms of the treaty recently made with his father Alfonso. The Florentines replied, that they were under no obligation; that they did not think proper to assist the son in a war commenced by the father with his own forces; and that as it was begun without either their counsel or knowledge, it must be continued and concluded without their help. The ambassadors affirmed the engagement to be binding on the Florentines, and themselves to be answerable for the event of the war; and then in great anger left the city.

Thus with regard to external affairs, the Florentines continued tranquil during this war; but the case was otherwise with their domestic concerns, as will be particularly shown in the following book.

BOOK VII

CHAPTER I

Connection of the other Italian governments with the history of Florence — Republics always disunited — Some differences are injurious; others not so — The kind of dissensions prevailing at Florence — Cosmo de’ Medici and Neri Capponi become powerful by dissimilar means — Reform in the election of magistrates favorable to Cosmo — Complaints of the principal citizens against the reform in elections — Luca Pitti, Gonfalonier of Justice, restrains the imborsations by force — Tyranny and pride of Luca Pitti and his party — Palace of the Pitti — Death of Cosmo de’ Medici — His liberality and magnificence — His modesty — His prudence — Sayings of Cosmo.

It will perhaps appear to the readers of the preceding book that, professing only to write of the affairs of Florence, I have dilated too much in speaking of those which occurred in Lombardy and Naples. But as I have not already avoided, so it is not my intention in future to forbear, similar digressions. For although we have not engaged to give an account of the affairs of Italy, still it would be improper to neglect noticing the most remarkable of them. If they were wholly omitted, our history would not be so well understood, neither would it be so instructive or agreeable; since from the proceedings of the other princes and states of Italy, have most commonly arisen those wars in which the Florentines were compelled to take part. Thus, from the war between John of Anjou and King Ferrando, originated those serious enmities and hatreds which ensued between Ferrando and the Florentines, particularly the house of Medici. The king complained of a want of assistance during the war, and of the aid afforded to his enemy; and from his anger originated the greatest evils, as will be hereafter seen. Having, in speaking of external affairs, come down to the year 1463, it will be necessary in order to make our narrative of the contemporaneous domestic transactions clearly understood, to revert to a period several years back. But first, according to custom, I would offer a few remarks referring to the events about to be narrated, and observe, that those who think a republic may be kept in perfect unity of purpose are greatly deceived. True it is, that some divisions injure republics, while others are beneficial to them. When accompanied by factions and parties they are injurious; but when maintained without them they contribute to their prosperity. The legislator of a republic, since it is impossible to prevent the existence of dissensions, must at least take care to prevent the growth of faction. It may therefore be observed, that citizens acquire reputation and power in two ways; the one public, the other private. Influence is acquired publicly by winning a battle, taking possession of a territory, fulfilling the duties of an embassy with care and prudence, or by giving wise counsel attended by a happy result. Private methods are conferring benefits upon individuals, defending them against the magistrates, supporting them with money, and raising them to undeserved honors; or with public games and entertainments gaining the affection of the populace. This mode of procedure produces parties and cliques; and in proportion as influence thus acquired is injurious, so is the former beneficial, if quite free from party spirit; because it is founded upon the public good, and not upon private advantage. And though it is impossible to prevent the existence of inveterate feuds, still if they be without partisans to support them for their own individual benefit, they do not injure a republic, but contribute to its welfare; since none can attain distinction, but as he contributes to her good, and each party prevents the other from infringing her liberties. The dissensions of Florence were always accompanied by factions, and were therefore always pernicious; and the dominant party only remained united so long as its enemies held it in check. As soon as the strength of the opposition was annihilated, the government, deprived of the restraining influence of its adversaries, and being subject to no law, fell to pieces. The party of Cosmo de’ Medici gained the ascendant in 1434; but the depressed party being very numerous, and composed of several very influential persons, fear kept the former united, and restrained their proceedings within the bounds of moderation, so that no violence was committed by them, nor anything done calculated to excite popular dislike. Consequently, whenever this government required the citizens’ aid to recover or strengthen its influence, the latter were always willing to gratify its wishes; so that from 1434 to 1455, during a period of twenty-one years, the authority of a balia was granted to it six times.

There were in Florence, as we have frequently observed, two principally powerful citizens, Cosmo de’ Medici and Neri Capponi. Neri acquired his influence by public services; so that he had many friends but few partisans. Cosmo, being able to avail himself both of public and private means, had many partisans as well as friends. While both lived, having always been united, they obtained from the people whatever they required; for in them popularity and power were united. But in the year 1455, Neri being dead, and the opposition party extinct, the government found a difficulty in resuming its authority; and this was occasioned, remarkably enough, by Cosmo’s private friends, and the most influential men in the state; for, not fearing the opposite party, they became anxious to abate his power. This inconsistency was the beginning of the evils which took place in 1456; so that those in power were openly advised in the deliberative councils not to renew the power of the balia, but to close the balloting purses, and appoint the magistrates by drawing from the pollings or squittini previously made. To restrain this disposition, Cosmo had the choice of two alternatives, either forcibly to assume the government, with the partisans he possessed, and drive out the others, or to allow the matter to take its course, and let his friends see they were not depriving him of power, but rather themselves. He chose the latter; for he well knew that at all events the purses being filled with the names of his own friends, he incurred no risk, and could take the government into his own hands whenever he found occasion. The chief offices of state being again filled by lot, the mass of the people began to think they had recovered their liberty, and that the decisions of the magistrates were according to their own judgments, unbiased by the influence of the Great. At the same time, the friends of different grandees were humbled; and many who had commonly seen their houses filled with suitors and presents, found themselves destitute of both. Those who had previously been very powerful were reduced to an equality with men whom they had been accustomed to consider inferior; and those formerly far beneath them were now become their equals. No respect or deference was paid to them; they were often ridiculed and derided, and frequently heard themselves and the republic mentioned in the open streets without the least deference; thus they found it was not Cosmo but themselves that had lost the government. Cosmo appeared not to notice these matters; and whenever any subject was proposed in favor of the people he was the first to support it. But the greatest cause of alarm to the higher classes, and his most favorable opportunity of retaliation, was the revival of the catasto, or property-tax of 1427, so that individual contributions were determined by statute, and not by a set of persons appointed for its regulation.

This law being re-established, and a magistracy created to carry it into effect, the nobility assembled, and went to Cosmo to beg he would rescue them and himself from the power of the plebeians, and restore to the government the reputation which had made himself powerful and them respected. He replied, he was willing to comply with their request, but wished the law to be obtained in the regular manner, by consent of the people, and not by force, of which he would not hear on any account. They then endeavored in the councils to establish a new balia, but did not succeed. On this the grandees again came to Cosmo, and most humbly begged he would assemble the people in a general council or parliament, but this he refused, for he wished to make them sensible of their great mistake; and when Donato Cocchi, being Gonfalonier of Justice, proposed to assemble them without his consent, the Signors who were of Cosmo’s party ridiculed the idea so unmercifully, that the man’s mind actually became deranged, and he had to retire from office in consequence. However, since it is undesirable to allow matters to proceed beyond recovery, the Gonfalon of Justice being in the hands of Luca Pitti, a bold-spirited man, Cosmo determined to let him adopt what course he thought proper, that if any trouble should arise it might be imputed to Luca and not to himself. Luca, therefore, in the beginning of his magistracy, several times proposed to the people the appointment of a new balia; and, not succeeding, he threatened the members of the councils with injurious and arrogant expressions, which were shortly followed by corresponding conduct; for in the month of August, 1458, on the eve of Saint Lorenzo, having filled the piazza, and compelled them to assent to a measure to which he knew them to be averse. Having recovered power, created a new balia, and filled the principal offices according to the pleasure of a few individuals, in order to commence that government with terror which they had obtained by force, they banished Girolamo Machiavelli, with some others, and deprived many of the honors of government. Girolamo, having transgressed the confines to which he was limited, was declared a rebel. Traveling about Italy, with the design of exciting the princes against his country, he was betrayed while at Lunigiana, and, being brought to Florence, was put to death in prison.

This government, during the eight years it continued, was violent and insupportable; for Cosmo, being now old, and through ill health unable to attend to public affairs as formerly, Florence became a prey to a small number of her own citizens. Luca Pitti, in return for the services he had performed for the republic, as made a knight, and to be no less grateful than those who had conferred the dignity upon him, he ordered that the priors, who had hitherto been called priors of the trades, should also have a name to which they had no kind of claim, and therefore called them priors of liberty. He also ordered, that as it had been customary for the gonfalonier to sit upon the right hand of the rectors, he should in future take his seat in the midst of them. And that the Deity might appear to participate in what had been done, public processions were made and solemn services performed, to thank him for the recovery of the government. The Signory and Cosmo made Luca Pitti rich presents, and all the citizens were emulous in imitation of them; so that the money given amounted to no less a sum than twenty thousand ducats. He thus attained such influence, that not Cosmo but himself now governed the city; and his pride so increased, that he commenced two superb buildings, one in Florence, the other at Ruciano, about a mile distant, both in a style of royal magnificence; that in the city, being larger than any hitherto built by a private person. To complete them, he had recourse to the most extraordinary means; for not only citizens and private individuals made him presents and supplied materials, but the mass of people, of every grade, also contributed. Besides this, any exiles who had committed murders, thefts, or other crimes which made them amenable to the laws, found a safe refuge within their walls, if they were able to contribute toward their decoration or completion. The other citizens, though they did not build like him, were no less violent or rapacious, so that if Florence were not harassed by external wars, she was ruined by the wickedness of her own children. During this period the wars of Naples took place. The pope also commenced hostilities in Romagna against the Malatesti, from whom he wished to take Rimino and Cesena, held by them. In these designs, and his intentions of a crusade against the Turks, was passed the pontificate of Pius II.

Florence continued in disunion and disturbance. The dissensions continued among the party of Cosmo, in 1455, from the causes already related, which by his prudence, as we have also before remarked, he was enabled to tranquilize; but in the year 1464, his illness increased, and he died. Friends and enemies alike grieved for his loss; for his political opponents, perceiving the rapacity of the citizens, even during the life of him who alone restrained them and made their tyranny supportable, were afraid, lest after his decease, nothing but ruin would ensue. Nor had they much hope of his son Piero, who though a very good man, was of infirm health, and new in the government, and they thought he would be compelled to give way; so that, being unrestrained, their rapacity would pass all bounds. On these accounts, the regret was universal. Of all who have left memorials behind them, and who were not of the military profession, Cosmo was the most illustrious and the most renowned. He not only surpassed all his contemporaries in wealth and authority, but also in generosity and prudence; and among the qualities which contributed to make him prince in his own country, was his surpassing all others in magnificence and generosity. His liberality became more obvious after his death, when Piero, his son, wishing to know what he possessed, it appeared there was no citizen of any consequence to whom Cosmo had not lent a large sum of money; and often, when informed of some nobleman being in distress, he relieved him unasked. His magnificence is evident from the number of public edifices he erected; for in Florence are the convents and churches of St. Marco and St. Lorenzo, and the monastery of Santa Verdiana; in the mountains of Fiesole, the church and abbey of St. Girolamo; and in the Mugello, he not only restored, but rebuilt from its foundation, a monastery of the Frati Minori, or Minims. Besides these, in the church of Santa Croce, the Servi, the Agnoli, and in San Miniato, he erected splendid chapels and altars; and besides building the churches and chapels we have mentioned, he provided them with all the ornaments, furniture, and utensils suitable for the performance of divine service. To these sacred edifices are to be added his private dwellings, one in Florence, of extent and elegance adapted to so great a citizen, and four others, situated at Careggi, Fiesole, Craggiulo, and Trebbio, each, for size and grandeur, equal to royal palaces. And, as if it were not sufficient to be distinguished for magnificence of buildings in Italy alone, he erected an hospital at Jerusalem, for the reception of poor and infirm pilgrims. Although his habitations, like all his other works and actions, were quite of a regal character, and he alone was prince in Florence, still everything was so tempered with his prudence, that he never transgressed the decent moderation of civil life; in his conversation, his servants, his traveling, his mode of living, and the relationships he formed, the modest demeanor of the citizen was always evident; for he was aware that a constant exhibition of pomp brings more envy upon its possessor than greater realities borne without ostentation. Thus in selecting consorts for his sons, he did not seek the alliance of princes, but for Giovanni chose Corneglia degli Allesandri, and for Piero, Lucrezia de’ Tornabuoni. He gave his granddaughters, the children of Piero, Bianca to Guglielmo de’ Pazzi, and Nannina to Bernardo Ruccellai. No one of his time possessed such an intimate knowledge of government and state affairs as himself; and hence amid such a variety of fortune, in a city so given to change, and among a people of such extreme inconstancy, he retained possession of the government thirty-one years; for being endowed with the utmost prudence, he foresaw evils at a distance, and therefore had an opportunity either of averting them, or preventing their injurious results. He thus not only vanquished domestic and civil ambition, but humbled the pride of many princes with so much fidelity and address, that whatever powers were in league with himself and his country, either overcame their adversaries, or remained uninjured by his alliance; and whoever were opposed to him, lost either their time, money, or territory. Of this the Venetians afford a sufficient proof, who, while in league with him against Duke Filippo were always victorious, but apart from him were always conquered; first by Filippo and then by Francesco. When they joined Alfonso against the Florentine republic, Cosmo, by his commercial credit, so drained Naples and Venice of money, that they were glad to obtain peace upon any terms it was thought proper to grant. Whatever difficulties he had to contend with, whether within the city or without, he brought to a happy issue, at once glorious to himself and destructive to his enemies; so that civil discord strengthened his government in Florence, and war increased his power and reputation abroad. He added to the Florentine dominions, the Borgo of St. Sepolcro, Montedoglio, the Casentino and Val di Bagno. His virtue and good fortune overcame all his enemies and exalted his friends. He was born in the year 1389, on the day of the saints Cosmo and Damiano. His earlier years were full of trouble, as his exile, captivity, and personal danger fully testify; and having gone to the council of Constance, with Pope John, in order to save his life, after the ruin of the latter, he was obliged to escape in disguise. But after the age of forty, he enjoyed the greatest felicity; and not only those who assisted him in public business, but his agents who conducted his commercial speculations throughout Europe, participated in his prosperity. Hence many enormous fortunes took their origin in different families of Florence, as in that of the Tornabuoni, the Benci, the Portinari, and the Sassetti. Besides these, all who depended upon his advice and patronage became rich; and, though he was constantly expending money in building churches, and in charitable purposes, he sometimes complained to his friends that he had never been able to lay out so much in the service of God as to find the balance in his own favor, intimating that all he had done or could do, was still unequal to what the Almighty had done for him. He was of middle stature, olive complexion, and venerable aspect; not learned but exceedingly eloquent, endowed with great natural capacity, generous to his friends, kind to the poor, comprehensive in discourse, cautious in advising, and in his speeches and replies, grave and witty. When Rinaldo degli Albizzi, at the beginning of his exile, sent to him to say, “the hen had laid,” he replied, “she did ill to lay so far from the nest.” Some other of the rebels gave him to understand they were “not dreaming.” He said, “he believed it, for he had robbed them of their sleep.” When Pope Pius was endeavoring to induce the different governments to join in an expedition against the Turks, he said, “he was an old man, and had undertaken the enterprise of a young one.” To the Venetians ambassadors, who came to Florence with those of King Alfonso to complain of the republic, he uncovered his head, and asked them what color it was; they said, “white;” he replied, “it is so; and it will not be long before your senators have heads as white as mine.” A few hours before his death, his wife asked him why he kept his eyes shut, and he said, “to get them in the way of it.” Some citizens saying to him, after his return from exile, that he injured the city, and that it was offensive to God to drive so many religious persons out of it; he replied that, “it was better to injure the city, than to ruin it; that two yards of rose-colored cloth would make a gentleman, and that it required something more to direct a government than to play with a string of beads.” These words gave occasion to his enemies to slander him, as a man who loved himself more than his country, and was more attached to this world than to the next. Many others of his sayings might be adduced, but we shall omit them as unnecessary. Cosmo was a friend and patron of learned men. He brought Argiripolo, a Greek by birth, and one of the most erudite of his time, to Florence, to instruct the youth in Hellenic literature. He entertained Marsilio Ficino, the reviver of the Platonic philosophy, in his own house; and being much attached to him, have him a residence near his palace at Careggi, that he might pursue the study of letters with greater convenience, and himself have an opportunity of enjoying his company. His prudence, his great wealth, the uses to which he applied it, and his splendid style of living, caused him to be beloved and respected in Florence, and obtained for him the highest consideration, not only among the princes and governments of Italy, but throughout all Europe. He thus laid a foundation for his descendants, which enabled them to equal him in virtue, and greatly surpass him in fortune; while the authority they possessed in Florence and throughout Christendom was not obtained without being merited. Toward the close of his life he suffered great affliction; for, of his two sons, Piero and Giovanni, the latter, of whom he entertained the greatest hopes, died; and the former was so sickly as to be unable to attend either to public or private business. On being carried from one apartment to another, after Giovanni’s death, he remarked to his attendants, with a sigh, “This is too large a house for so small a family.” His great mind also felt distressed at the idea that he had not extended the Florentine dominions by any valuable acquisition; and he regretted it the more, from imagining he had been deceived by Francesco Sforza, who, while count, had promised, that if he became lord of Milan, he would undertake the conquest of Lucca for the Florentines, a design, however, that was never realized; for the count’s ideas changed upon his becoming duke; he resolved to enjoy in peace, the power he had acquired by war, and would not again encounter its fatigues and dangers, unless the welfare of his own dominions required it. This was a source of much annoyance to Cosmo, who felt he had incurred great expense and trouble for an ungrateful and perfidious friend. His bodily infirmities prevented him from attending either to public or private affairs, as he had been accustomed, and he consequently witnessed both going to decay; for Florence was ruined by her own citizens, and his fortune by his agents and children. He died, however, at the zenith of his glory and in the enjoyment of the highest renown. The city, and all the Christian princes, condoled with his son Piero for his loss. His funeral was conducted with the utmost pomp and solemnity, the whole city following his corpse to the tomb in the church of St. Lorenzo, on which, by public decree, he was inscribed, “FATHER OF HIS COUNTRY.” If, in speaking of Cosmo’s actions, I have rather imitated the biographies of princes than general history, it need not occasion wonder; for of so extraordinary an individual I was compelled to speak with unusual praise.

CHAPTER II

The duke of Milan becomes lord of Genoa — The king of Naples and the duke of Milan endeavor to secure their dominions to their heirs — Jacopo Piccinino honorably received at Milan, and shortly afterward murdered at Naples — Fruitless endeavors of Pius II. to excite Christendom against the Turks — Death of Francesco Sforza, duke of Milan — Perfidious counsel given to Piero de’ Medici by Diotisalvi Neroni — Conspiracy of Diotisalvi and others against Piero — Futile attempts to appease the disorders — Public spectacles — Projects of the conspirators against Piero de’ Medici — Niccolo Fedini discloses to Piero the plots of his enemies.

While Florence and Italy were in this condition, Louis XI. of France was involved in very serious troubles with his barons, who, with the assistance of Francis, duke of Brittany, and Charles, duke of Burgundy, were in arms against him. This attack was so serious, that he was unable to render further assistance to John of Anjou in his enterprise against Genoa and Naples; and, standing in need of all the forces he could raise, he gave over Savona (which still remained in the power of the French) to the duke of Milan, and also intimated, that if he wished, he had his permission to undertake the conquest of Genoa. Francesco accepted the proposal, and with the influence afforded by the king’s friendship, and the assistance of the Adorni, he became lord of Genoa. In acknowledgment of this benefit, he sent fifteen hundred horse into France for the king’s service, under the command of Galeazzo, his eldest son. Thus Ferrando of Aragon and Francesco Sforza became, the latter, duke of Lombardy and prince of Genoa, and the former, sovereign of the whole kingdom of Naples. Their families being allied by marriage, they thought they might so confirm their power as to secure to themselves its enjoyment during life, and at their deaths, its unencumbered reversion to their heirs. To attain this end, they considered it necessary that the king should remove all ground of apprehension from those barons who had offended him in the war of John of Anjou, and that the duke should extirpate the adherents of the Bracceschi, the natural enemies of his family, who, under Jacopo Piccinino, had attained the highest reputation. The latter was now the first general in Italy, and possessing no territory, he naturally excited the apprehension of all who had dominions, and especially of the duke, who, conscious of what he had himself done, thought he could neither enjoy his own estate in safety, nor leave them with any degree of security to his son during Jacopo’s lifetime. The king, therefore, strenuously endeavored to come to terms with his barons, and using his utmost ingenuity to secure them, succeeded in his object; for they perceived their ruin to be inevitable if they continued in war with their sovereign, though from submission and confidence in him, they would still have reason for apprehension. Mankind are always most eager to avoid a certain evil; and hence inferior powers are easily deceived by princes. The barons, conscious of the danger of continuing the war, trusted the king’s promises, and having placed themselves in his hands, they were soon after destroyed in various ways, and under a variety of pretexts. This alarmed Jacopo Piccinino, who was with his forces at Sulmona; and to deprive the king of the opportunity of treating him similarly, he endeavored, by the mediation of his friends, to be reconciled with the duke, who, by the most liberal offers, induced Jacopo to visit him at Milan, accompanied by only a hundred horse.

Jacopo had served many years with his father and brother, first under Duke Filippo, and afterward under the Milanese republic, so that by frequent intercourse with the citizens he had acquired many friends and universal popularity, which present circumstances tended to increase; for the prosperity and newly acquired power of the Sforzeschi had occasioned envy, while Jacopo’s misfortunes and long absence had given rise to compassion and a great desire to see him. These various feelings were displayed upon his arrival; for nearly all the nobility went to meet him; the streets through which he passed were filled with citizens, anxious to catch a glimpse of him, while shouts of “The Bracceschi! the Bracceschi!” resounded on all sides. These honors accelerated his ruin; for the duke’s apprehensions increased his desire of destroying him; and to effect this with the least possible suspicion, Jacopo’s marriage with Drusiana, the duke’s natural daughter, was now celebrated. The duke then arranged with Ferrando to take him into pay, with the title of captain of his forces, and give him 100,000 florins for his maintenance. After this agreement, Jacopo, accompanied by a ducal ambassador and his wife Drusiana, proceeded to Naples, where he was honorably and joyfully received, and for many days entertained with every kind of festivity; but having asked permission to go to Sulmona, where his forces were, the king invited him to a banquet in the castle, at the conclusion of which he and his son Francesco were imprisoned, and shortly afterward put to death. It was thus our Italian princes, fearing those virtues in others which they themselves did not possess, extirpated them; and hence the country became a prey to the efforts of those by whom it was not long afterward oppressed and ruined.

At this time, Pope Pius II. having settled the affairs of Romagna, and witnessing a universal peace, thought it a suitable opportunity to lead the Christians against the Turks, and adopted measures similar to those which his predecessors had used. All the princes promised assistance either in men or money; while Matthias, king of Hungary, and Charles, duke of Burgundy, intimated their intention of joining the enterprise in person, and were by the pope appointed leaders of the expedition. The pontiff was so full of expectation, that he left Rome and proceeded to Ancona, where it had been arranged that the whole army should be assembled, and the Venetians engaged to send ships thither to convey the forces to Sclavonia. Upon the arrival of the pope in that city, there was soon such a concourse of people, that in a few days all the provisions it contained, or that could be procured from the neighborhood, were consumed, and famine began to impend. Besides this, there was no money to provide those who were in want of it, nor arms to furnish such as were without them. Neither Matthias nor Charles made their appearance. The Venetians sent a captain with some galleys, but rather for ostentation and the sake of keeping their word, than for the purpose of conveying troops. During this position of affairs, the pope, being old and infirm, died, and the assembled troops returned to their homes. The death of the pontiff occurred in 1465, and Paul II. of Venetian origin, was chosen to succeed him; and that nearly all the principalities of Italy might change their rulers about the same period, in the following year Francesco Sforza, duke of Milan, also died, having occupied the dukedom sixteen years, and Galleazzo, his son, succeeded him.

The death of this prince infused redoubled energy into the Florentine dissensions, and caused them to produce more prompt effects than they would otherwise have done. Upon the demise of Cosmo, his son Piero, being heir to the wealth and government of his father, called to his assistance Diotisalvi Neroni, a man of great influence and the highest reputation, in whom Cosmo reposed so much confidence that just before his death he recommended Piero to be wholly guided by him, both with regard to the government of the city and the management of his fortune. Piero acquired Diotisalvi with the opinion Cosmo entertained of him, and said that as he wished to obey his father, though now no more, as he always had while alive, he should consult him concerning both his patrimony and the city. Beginning with his private affairs, he caused an account of all his property, liabilities, and assets, to be placed in Diotisalvi’s hands, that, with an entire acquaintance with the state of his affairs, he might be able to afford suitable advice, and the latter promised to use the utmost care. Upon examination of these accounts the affairs were found to be in great disorder, and Diotisalvi, instigated rather by his own ambition than by attachment to Piero or gratitude to Cosmo, thought he might without difficulty deprive him of both the reputation and the splendor which his father had left him as his inheritance. In order to realize his views, he waited upon Piero, and advised him to adopt a measure which, while it appeared quite correct in itself, and suitable to existing circumstances, involved a consequence destructive to his authority. He explained the disorder of his affairs, and the large amount of money it would be necessary to provide, if he wished to preserve his influence in the state and his reputation of wealth; and said there was no other means of remedying these disorders so just and available as to call in the sums which his father had lent to an infinite number of persons, both foreigners and citizens; for Cosmo, to acquire partisans in Florence and friends abroad, was extremely liberal of his money, and the amount of loans due to him was enormous. Piero thought the advice good, because he was only desirous to repossess his own property to meet the demands to which he was liable; but as soon as he had ordered those amounts to be recalled, the citizens, as if he had asked for something to which he had no kind of claim, took great offense, loaded him with opprobrious expressions, and accused him of being avaricious and ungrateful.

Diotisalvi, noticing the popular excitement against Piero, occasioned by his own advice, obtained an interview with Luca Pitti, Agnolo Acciajuoli, and Niccolo Soderini, and they resolved to unite their efforts to deprive him both of the government and his influence. Each was actuated by a different motive; Luca Pitti wished to take the position Cosmo had occupied, for he was now become so great, that he disdained to submit to Piero; Diotisalvi Neroni, who knew Luca unfit to be at the head of a government, thought that of necessity on Piero’s removal, the whole authority of the state would devolve upon himself; Niccolo Soderini desired the city to enjoy greater liberty, and for the laws to be equally binding upon all. Agnolo Acciajuoli was greatly incensed against the Medici, for the following reasons: his son, Raffaello, had some time before married Alessandra de’ Bardi, and received with her a large dowry. She, either by her own fault or the misconduct of others, suffered much ill-treatment both from her father-in-law and her husband, and in consequence Lorenzo d’ Ilarione, her kinsman, out of pity for the girl, being accompanied by several armed men, took her away from Agnolo’s house. The Acciajuoli complained of the injury done them by the Bardi, and the matter was referred to Cosmo, who decided that the Acciajuoli should restore to Alessandra her fortune, and then leave it to her choice either to return to her husband or not. Agnolo thought Cosmo had not, in this instance, treated him as a friend; and having been unable to avenge himself on the father, he now resolved to do his utmost to ruin the son. These conspirators, though each was influenced by a different motive from the rest, affected to have only one object in view, which was that the city should be governed by the magistrates, and not be subjected to the counsels of a few individuals. The odium against Piero, and opportunities of injuring him, were increased by the number of merchants who failed about this time; for it was reported that he, in having, quite unexpectedly to all, resolved to call in his debts, had, to the disgrace and ruin of the city, caused them to become insolvent. To this was added his endeavor to obtain Clarice degli Orsini as wife of Lorenzo, his eldest son; and hence his enemies took occasion to say, it was quite clear, that as he despised a Florentine alliance, he no longer considered himself one of the people, and was preparing to make himself prince; for he who refuses his fellow-citizens as relatives, desires to make them slaves, and therefore cannot expect to have them as friends. The leaders of the sedition thought they had the victory in their power; for the greater part of the citizens followed them, deceived by the name of liberty which they, to give their purpose a graceful covering, adopted upon their ensigns.

In this agitated state of the city, some, to whom civil discord was extremely offensive, thought it would be well to endeavor to engage men’s minds with some new occupation, because when unemployed they are commonly led by whoever chooses to excite them. To divert their attention from matters of government, it being now a year since the death of Cosmo, it was resolved to celebrate two festivals, similar to the most solemn observed in the city. At one of them was represented the arrival of the three kings from the east, led by the star which announced the nativity of Christ; which was conducted with such pomp and magnificence, that the preparations for it kept the whole city occupied many months. The other was a tournament (for so they call the exhibition of equestrian combats), in which the sons of the first families in the city took part with the most celebrated cavaliers of Italy. Among the most distinguished of the Florentine youth was Lorenzo, eldest son of Piero, who, not by favor, but by his own personal valor, obtained the principal prize. When these festivals were over, the citizens reverted to the same thoughts which had previously occupied them, and each pursued his ideas with more earnestness than ever. Serious differences and troubles were the result; and these were greatly increased by two circumstances: one of which was, that the authority of the balia had expired; the other, that upon the death of Duke Francesco, Galeazzo the new duke sent ambassadors to Florence, to renew the engagements of his father with the city, which, among other things, provided that every year a certain sum of money should be paid to the duke. The principal opponents of the Medici took occasion, from this demand, to make public resistance in the councils, on pretense that the alliance was made with Francesco and not Galeazzo; so that Francesco being dead, the obligation had ceased; nor was there any necessity to revive it, because Galeazzo did not possess his father’s talents, and consequently they neither could nor ought to expect the same benefits from him; that if they had derived little advantage from Francesco, they would obtain still less from Galeazzo; and that if any citizen wished to hire him for his own purposes, it was contrary to civil rule, and inconsistent with the public liberty. Piero, on the contrary, argued that it would be very impolitic to lose such an alliance from mere avarice, and that there was nothing so important to the republic, and to the whole of Italy, as their alliance with the duke; that the Venetians, while they were united, could not hope either by feigned friendship or open war to injure the duchy; but as soon as they perceived the Florentines alienated from him they would prepare for hostilities, and, finding him young, new in the government, and without friends, they would, either by force or fraud, compel him to join them; in which case ruin of the republic would be inevitable.

The arguments of Piero were without effect, and the animosity of the parties began to be openly manifested in their nocturnal assemblies; the friends of the Medici meeting in the Crocetta, and their adversaries in the Pieta. The latter being anxious for Piero’s ruin, had induced many citizens to subscribe their names as favorable to the undertaking. Upon one occasion, particularly when considering the course to be adopted, although all agreed that the power of the Medici ought to be reduced, different opinions were given concerning the means by which it should be effected; one party, the most temperate and reasonable, held that as the authority of the balia had ceased, they must take care to prevent its renewal; it would then be found to be the universal wish that the magistrates and councils should govern the city, and in a short time Piero’s power would be visibly diminished, and, as a consequence of his loss of influence in the government, his commercial credit would also fail; for his affairs were in such a state, that if they could prevent him from using the public money his ruin must ensue. They would thus be in no further danger from him, and would succeed in the recovery of their liberty, without the death or exile of any individual; but if they attempted violence they would incur great dangers; for mankind are willing to allow one who falls of himself to meet his fate, but if pushed down they would hasten to his relief; so that if they adopted no extraordinary measures against him, he will have no reason for defense or aid; and if he were to seek them it would be greatly to his own injury, by creating such a general suspicion as would accelerate his ruin, and justify whatever course they might think proper to adopt. Many of the assembly were dissatisfied with this tardy method of proceeding; they thought delay would be favorable to him and injurious to themselves; for if they allowed matters to take their ordinary course, Piero would be in no danger whatever, while they themselves would incur many; for the magistrates who were opposed to him would allow him to rule the city, and his friends would make him a prince, and their own ruin would be inevitable, as happened in 1458; and though the advice they had just heard might be most consistent with good feeling, the present would be found to be the safest. That it would therefore be best, while the minds of men were yet excited against him, to effect his destruction. It must be their plan to arm themselves, and engage the assistance of the marquis of Ferrara, that they might not be destitute of troops; and if a favorable Signory were drawn, they would be in condition to make use of them. They therefore determined to wait the formation of the new Signory, and be governed by circumstances.

Among the conspirators was Niccolo Fedini, who had acted as president of their assemblies. He, being induced by most certain hopes, disclosed the whole affair to Piero, and gave him a list of those who had subscribed their names, and also of the conspirators. Piero was alarmed on discovering the number and quality of those who were opposed to him; and by the advice of his friends he resolved to take the signatures of those who were inclined to favor him. Having employed one of his most trusty confidants to carry his design into effect, he found so great a disposition to change and instability, that many who had previously set down their names among the number of his enemies, now subscribed them in his favor.

CHAPTER III

Niccolo Soderini drawn Gonfalonier of Justice — Great hopes excited in consequence — The two parties take arms — The fears of the Signory — Their conduct with regard to Piero — Piero’s reply to the Signory — Reform of government in favor of Piero de’ Medici — Dispersion of his enemies — Fall of Lucca Pitti — Letter of Agnolo Acciajuoli to Piero de’ Medici — Piero’s answer — Designs of the Florentine exiles — They induce the Venetians to make war on Florence.

In the midst of these events, the time arrived for the renewal of the supreme magistracy; and Niccolo Soderini was drawn Gonfalonier of Justice. It was surprising to see by what a concourse, not only of distinguished citizens, but also of the populace, he was accompanied to the palace; and while on the way thither an olive wreath was placed upon his head, to signify that upon him depended the safety and liberty of the city. This, among many similar instances, serves to prove how undesirable it is to enter upon office or power exciting inordinate expectations; for, being unable to fulfil them (many looking for more than it is possible to perform), shame and disappointment are the ordinary results. Tommaso and Niccolo Soderini were brothers. Niccolo was the more ardent and spirited, Tommaso the wiser man; who, being very much the friend of Piero, and knowing that his brother desired nothing but the liberty of the city, and the stability of the republic, without injury to any, advised him to make new Squittini, by which means the election purses might be filled with the names of those favorable to his design. Niccolo took his brother’s advice, and thus wasted the period of his magistracy in vain hopes, which his friends, the leading conspirators, allowed him to do from motives of envy; for they were unwilling that the government should be reformed by the authority of Niccolo, and thought they would be in time enough to effect their purpose under another gonfalonier. Thus the magistracy of Niccolo expired; and having commenced many things without completing aught, he retired from office with much less credit than when he had entered upon it.

This circumstance caused the aggrandizement of Piero’s party, whose friends entertained stronger hopes, while those who had been neutral or wavering became his adherents; so that both sides being balanced, many months elapsed without any open demonstration of their particular designs. Piero’s party continuing to gather strength, his enemies’ indignation increased in proportion; and they now determined to effect by force what they either could not accomplish, or were unwilling to attempt by the medium of the magistrates, which was assassination of Piero, who lay sick at Careggi, and to this end order the marquis of Ferrara nearer to the city with his forces, that after Piero’s death he might lead them into the piazza, and thus compel the Signory to form a government according to their own wishes; for though all might not be friendly, they trusted they would be able to induce those to submit by fear who might be opposed to them from principle.

Diotisalvi, the better to conceal his design, frequently visited Piero, conversed with him respecting the union of the city, and advised him to effect it. The conspirators’ designs had already been fully disclosed to Piero; besides this, Domenico Martelli had informed him, that Francesco Neroni, the brother of Diotisalvi, had endeavored to induce him to join them, assuring him the victory was certain, and their object all but attained. Upon this, Piero resolved to take advantage of his enemies’ tampering with the marquis of Ferrara, and be first in arms. He therefore intimated that he had received a letter from Giovanni Bentivogli, prince of Bologna, which informed him that the marquis of Ferrara was upon the river Albo, at the head of a considerable force, with the avowed intention of leading it to Florence; that upon this advice he had taken up arms; after which, in the midst of a strong force, he came to the city, when all who were disposed to support him, armed themselves also. The adverse party did the same, but not in such good order, being unprepared. The residence of Diotisalvi being near that of Piero, he did not think himself safe in it, but first went to the palace and begged the Signory would endeavor to induce Piero to lay down his arms, and thence to Luca Pitti, to keep him faithful in their cause. Niccolo Soderini displayed the most activity; for taking arms, and being followed by nearly all the plebeians in his vicinity, he proceeded to the house of Luca, and begged that he would mount his horse, and come to the piazza in support of the Signory, who were, he said, favorable, and that the victory would, undoubtedly, be on their side; that he should not stay in the house to be basely slain by their armed enemies, or ignominiously deceived by those who were unarmed; for, in that case, he would soon repent of having neglected an opportunity irrecoverably lost; that if he desired the forcible ruin of Piero, he might easily effect it; and that if he were anxious for peace, it would be far better to be in a condition to propose terms than to be compelled to accept any that might be offered. These words produced no effect upon Luca, whose mind was now quite made up; he had been induced to desert his party by new conditions and promises of alliance from Piero; for one of his nieces had been married to Giovanni Tornabuoni. He, therefore, advised Niccolo to dismiss his followers and return home, telling him he ought to be satisfied, if the city were governed by the magistrates, which would certainly be the case, and that all ought to lay aside their weapons; for the Signory, most of whom were friendly, would decide their differences. Niccolo, finding him impracticable, returned home; but before he left, he said, “I can do the city no good alone, but I can easily foresee the evils that will befall her. This resolution of yours will rob our country of her liberty; you will lose the government, I shall lose my property, and the rest will be exiled.”

During this disturbance the Signory closed the palace and kept their magistrates about them, without showing favor to either party. The citizens, especially those who had followed Luca Pitti, finding Piero fully prepared and his adversaries unarmed, began to consider, not how they might injure him, but how, with least observation, glide into the ranks of his friends. The principal citizens, the leaders of both factions, assembled in the palace in the presence of the Signory, and spoke respecting the state of the city and the reconciliation of parties; and as the infirmities of Piero prevented him from being present, they, with one exception, unanimously determined to wait upon him at his house. Niccolo Soderini having first placed his children and his effects under the care of his brother Tommaso, withdrew to his villa, there to await the event, but apprehended misfortune to himself and ruin to his country. The other citizens coming into Piero’s presence, one of them who had been appointed spokesman, complained of the disturbances that had arisen in the city, and endeavored to show, that those must be most to blame who had been first to take up arms; and not knowing what Piero (who was evidently the first to do so) intended, they had come in order to be informed of his design, and if it had in view the welfare of the city, they were desirous of supporting it. Piero replied, that not those who first take arms are the most to blame, but those who give the first occasion for it, and if they would reflect a little on their mode of proceeding toward himself, they would cease to wonder at what he had done; for they could not fail to perceive, that nocturnal assemblies, the enrollment of partisans, and attempts to deprive him both of his authority and his life, had caused him to take arms; and they might further observe, that as his forces had not quitted his own house, his design was evidently only to defend himself and not to injure others. He neither sought nor desired anything but safety and repose; neither had his conduct ever manifested a desire for ought else; for when the authority of the Balia expired, he never made any attempt to renew it, and was very glad the magistrates had governed the city and had been content. They might also remember that Cosmo and his sons could live respected in Florence, either with the Balia or without it, and that in 1458, it was not his family, but themselves, who had renewed it. That if they did not wish for it at present, neither did he; but this did not satisfy them; for he perceived that they thought it impossible to remain in Florence while he was there. It was entirely beyond all his anticipations that his own or his father’s friends should think themselves unsafe with him in Florence, having always shown himself quiet and peaceable. He then addressed himself to Diotisalvi and his brothers, who were present, reminding them with grave indignation, of the benefits they had received from Cosmo, the confidence he had reposed in them and their subsequent ingratitude; and his words so strongly excited some present, that had he not interfered, they would certainly have torn the Neroni to pieces on the spot. He concluded by saying, that he should approve of any determination of themselves and the Signory; and that for his own part, he only desired peace and safety. After this, many things were discussed, but nothing determined, excepting generally, that it was necessary to reform the administration of the city and government.

The Gonfalon of Justice was then in the hands of Bernardo Lotti, a man not in the confidence of Piero, who was therefore disinclined to attempt aught while he was in office; but no inconvenience would result from the delay, as his magistracy was on the point of expiring. Upon the election of Signors for the months of September and October, 1466, Roberto Lioni was appointed to the supreme magistracy, and as soon as he assumed its duties, every requisite arrangement having been previously made, the people were called to the piazza, and a new Balia created, wholly in favor of Piero, who soon afterward filled all the offices of government according to his own pleasure. These transactions alarmed the leaders of the opposite faction, and Agnolo Acciajuoli fled to Naples, Diotisalvi Neroni and Niccolo Soderini to Venice. Luca Pitti remained in Florence, trusting to his new relationship and the promises of Piero. The refugees were declared rebels, and all the family of the Neroni were dispersed. Giovanni di Neroni, then archbishop of Florence, to avoid a greater evil, became a voluntary exile at Rome, and to many other citizens who fled, various places of banishment were appointed. Nor was this considered sufficient; for it was ordered that the citizens should go in solemn procession to thank God for the preservation of the government and the reunion of the city, during the performance of which, some were taken and tortured, and part of them afterward put to death and exiled. In this great vicissitude of affairs, there was not a more remarkable instance of the uncertainty of fortune than Luca Pitti, who soon found the difference between victory and defeat, honor and disgrace. His house now presented only a vast solitude, where previously crowds of citizens had assembled. In the streets, his friends and relatives, instead of accompanying, were afraid even to salute him. Some of them were deprived of the honors of government, others of their property, and all alike threatened. The superb edifices he had commenced were abandoned by the builders; the benefits that had been conferred upon him, where now exchanged for injuries, the honors for disgrace. Hence many of those who had presented him with articles of value now demanded them back again, as being only lent; and those who had been in the habit of extolling him as a man of surpassing excellence, now termed him violent and ungrateful. So that, when too late, he regretted not having taken the advice of Niccolo Soderini, and preferred an honorable death in battle, than to a life of ignominy among his victorious enemies.

The exiles now began to consider various means of recovering that citizenship which they had not been able to preserve. However, Agnolo Acciajuoli being at Naples, before he attempted anything else, resolved to sound Piero, and try if he could effect a reconciliation. For this purpose, he wrote to him in the following terms: “I cannot help laughing at the freaks of fortune, perceiving how, at her pleasure, she converts friends into enemies, and enemies into friends. You may remember that during your father’s exile, regarding more the injury done to him than my own misfortunes, I was banished, and in danger of death, and never during Cosmo’s life failed to honor and support your family; neither have I since his death ever entertained a wish to injure you. True, it is, that your own sickness, and the tender years of your sons, so alarmed me, that I judged it desirable to give such a form to the government, that after your death our country might not be ruined; and hence, the proceedings, which not against you, but for the safety of the state, have been adopted, which, if mistaken, will surely obtain forgiveness, both for the good design in view, and on account of my former services. Neither can I apprehend, that your house, having found me so long faithful, should now prove unmerciful, or that you could cancel the impression of so much merit for so small a fault.” Piero replied: “Your laughing in your present abode is the cause why I do not weep, for were you to laugh in Florence, I should have to weep at Naples. I confess you were well disposed toward my father, and you ought to confess you were well paid for it; and the obligation is so much the greater on your part than on ours, as deeds are of greater value than words. Having been recompensed for your good wishes, it ought not to surprise you that you now receive the due reward of your bad ones. Neither will a pretense of your patriotism excuse you, for none will think the city less beloved or benefited by the Medici, than by the Acciajuoli. It, therefore, seems but just, that you should remain in dishonor at Naples, since you knew not how to live with honor at home.”

Agnolo, hopeless of obtaining pardon, went to Rome, where, joining the archbishop and other refugees, they used every available means to injure the commercial credit of the Medici in that city. Their attempts greatly annoyed Piero; but by his friends’ assistance, he was enabled to render them abortive. Diotisalvi Neroni and Niccolo Soderini strenuously urged the Venetian senate to make war upon their country, calculating, that in case of an attack, the government being new and unpopular, would be unable to resist. At this time there resided at Ferrara, Giovanni Francesco, son of Palla Strozzi, who, with his father, was banished from Florence in the changes of 1434. He possessed great influence, and was considered one of the richest merchants. The newly banished pointed out to Giovanni Francesco how easily they might return to their country, if the Venetians were to undertake the enterprise, and that it was most probable they would do so, if they had pecuniary assistance, but that otherwise it would be doubtful. Giovanni Francesco, wishing to avenge his own injuries, at once fell in with their ideas, and promised to contribute to the success of the attempt all the means in his power. On this they went to the Doge, and complained of the exile they were compelled to endure, for no other reason, they said, than for having wished their country should be subject to equal laws, and that the magistrates should govern, not a few private individuals; that Piero de’ Medici, with his adherents, who were accustomed to act tyrannically, had secretly taken up arms, deceitfully induced them to lay their own aside, and thus, by fraud, expelled them from their country; that, not content with this, they made the Almighty himself a means of oppression to several, who, trusting to their promises, had remained in the city and were there betrayed; for, during public worship and solemn supplications, that the Deity might seem to participate in their treachery, many citizens had been seized, imprisoned, tortured, and put to death; thus affording to the world a horrible and impious precedent. To avenge themselves for these injuries, they knew not where to turn with so much hope of success as to the senate, which, having always enjoyed their liberty, ought to compassionate those who had lost it. They therefore called upon them as free men to assist them against tyrants; as pious, against the wicked; and would remind the Venetians, that it was the family of the Medici who had robbed them of their dominions in Lombardy, contrary to the wish of the other citizens, and who, in opposition to the interests of the senate, had favored and supported Francesco, so, that if the exiles’ distresses could not induce them to undertake the war, the just indignation of the people of Venice, and their desire of vengeance ought to prevail.

CHAPTER IV

War between the Venetians and the Florentines — Peace re-established — Death of Niccolo Soderini — His character — Excesses in Florence — Various external events from 1468 to 1471 — Accession of Sixtus IV. — His character — Grief of Piero de’ Medici for the violence committed in Florence — His speech to the principal citizens — Plans of Piero de’ Medici for the restoration of order — His death and character — Tommaso Soderini, a citizen of great reputation, declares himself in favor of the Medici — Disturbances at Prato occasioned by Bernardo Nardi.

The concluding words of the Florentine exiles produced the utmost excitement among the Venetian senators, and they resolved to send Bernardo Coglione, their general, to attack the Florentine territory. The troops were assembled, and joined by Ercole da Esti, who had been sent by Borgo, marquis of Ferrara. At the commencement of hostilities, the Florentines not being prepared, their enemies burned the Borgo of Dovadola, and plundered the surrounding country. But having expelled the enemies of Piero, renewed their league with Galeazzo, duke of Milan, and Ferrando, king of Naples, they appointed to the command of their forces Federigo, count of Urbino; and being thus on good terms with their friends, their enemies occasioned them less anxiety. Ferrando sent Alfonso, his eldest son, to their aid, and Galeazzo came in person, each at the head of a suitable force, and all assembled at Castrocaro, a fortress belonging to the Florentines, and situated among the roots of the Appennines which descend from Tuscany to Romagna. In the meantime, the enemy withdrew toward Imola. A few slight skirmishes took place between the armies; yet, in accordance with the custom of the times, neither of them acted on the offensive, besieged any town, or gave the other an opportunity of coming to a general engagement; but each kept within their tents, and conducted themselves with most remarkable cowardice. This occasioned general dissatisfaction among the Florentines; for they found themselves involved in an expensive war, from which no advantage could be derived. The magistrates complained of these spiritless proceedings to those who had been appointed commissaries to the expedition; but they replied, that the entire evil was chargeable upon the Duke Galeazzo, who possessing great authority and little experience, was unable to suggest useful measures, and unwilling to take the advice of those who were more capable; and therefore any demonstration of courage or energy would be impracticable so long as he remained with the army. Hereupon the Florentines intimated to the duke, that his presence with the force was in many ways advantageous and beneficial, and of itself sufficient to alarm the enemy; but they considered his own safety and that of his dominions, much more important than their own immediate convenience; because so long as the former were safe, the Florentines had nothing to fear, and all would go well; but if his dominions were to suffer, they might then apprehend all kinds of misfortune. They assured him they did not think it prudent for him to be absent so long from Milan, having recently succeeded to the government, and being surrounded by many powerful enemies and suspected neighbors; while any who were desirous of plotting against him, had an opportunity of doing so with impunity. They would, therefore, advise him to return to his territories, leaving part of his troops with them for the use of the expedition. This advice pleased Galeazzo, who, in consequence, immediately withdrew to Milan. The Florentine generals being now left without any hindrance, to show that the cause assigned for their inaction was the true one, pressed the enemy more closely, so that they came to a regular engagement, which continued half a day, without either party yielding. Some horses were wounded and prisoners taken, but no death occurred. Winter having arrived, and with it the usual time for armies to retire into quarters, Bartolommeo Coglione withdrew to Ravenna, the Florentine forces into Tuscany, and those of the king and duke, each to the territories of their sovereign. As this attempt had not occasioned any tumult in Florence, contrary to the rebels’ expectation, and the troops they had hired were in want of pay, terms of peace were proposed, and easily arranged. The revolted Florentines, thus deprived of hope, dispersed themselves in various places. Diotisalvi Neroni withdrew to Ferrara, where he was received and entertained by the Marquis Borso. Niccolo Soderini went to Ravenna, where, upon a small pension allowed by the Venetians, he grew old and died. He was considered a just and brave man, but over-cautious and slow to determine, a circumstance which occasioned him, when Gonfalonier of Justice, to lose the opportunity of victory which he would have gladly recovered when too late.

Upon the restoration of peace, those who remained victorious in Florence, as if unable to convince themselves they had conquered, unless they oppressed not merely their enemies, but all whom they suspected, prevailed upon Bardo Altoviti, then Gonfalonier of Justice, to deprive many of the honors of government, and to banish several more. They exercised their power so inconsiderately, and conducted themselves in such an arbitrary manner, that it seemed as if fortune and the Almighty had given the city up to them for a prey. Piero knew little of these things, and was unable to remedy even the little he knew, on account of his infirmities; his body being so contracted that he could use no faculty but that of speech. All he could do was to admonish the leading men, and beg they would conduct themselves with greater moderation, and not by their violence effect their country’s ruin. In order to divert the city, he resolved to celebrate the marriage of his son Lorenzo with Clarice degli Orsini with great splendor; and it was accordingly solemnized with all the display suitable to the exalted rank of the parties. Feasts, dancing, and antique representations occupied many days; at the conclusion of which, to exhibit the grandeur of the house of Medici and of the government, two military spectacles were presented, one performed by men on horseback, who went through the evolutions of a field engagement, and the other representing the storming of a town; everything being conducted with admirable order and the greatest imaginable brilliancy.

During these transactions in Florence, the rest of Italy, though at peace, was filled with apprehension of the power of the Turks, who continued to attack the Christians, and had taken Negropont, to the great disgrace and injury of the Christian name. About this time died Borso, marquis of Ferrara, who was succeeded by his brother Ercole. Gismondo da Rimini, the inveterate enemy of the church also expired, and his natural brother Roberto, who was afterward one of the best generals of Italy, succeeded him. Pope Paul died, and was succeeded by Sixtus IV. previously called Francesco da Savona, a man of the very lowest origin, who by his talents had become general of the order of St. Francis, and afterward cardinal. He was the first who began to show how far a pope might go, and how much that which was previously regarded as sinful lost its iniquity when committed by a pontiff. Among others of his family were Piero and Girolamo, who, according to universal belief, were his sons, though he designated them by terms reflecting less scandal on his character. Piero being a priest, was advanced to the dignity of a cardinal, with the title of St. Sixtus. To Girolamo he gave the city of Furli, taken from Antonio Ordelaffi, whose ancestors had held that territory for many generations. This ambitious method of procedure made him more regarded by the princes of Italy, and all sought to obtain his friendship. The duke of Milan gave his natural daughter Caterina to Girolamo, with the city of Imola, which he had taken from Taddeo degli Alidossi, as her portion. New matrimonial alliances were formed between the duke and king Ferrando; Elisabetta, daughter of Alfonso, the king’s eldest son, being united to Giovan Galeazzo, the eldest son of the duke.

Italy being at peace, the principal employment of her princes was to watch each other, and strengthen their own influence by new alliances, leagues, or friendships. But in the midst of this repose, Florence endured great oppression from her principal citizens, and the infirmities of Piero incapacitated him from restraining their ambition. However, to relieve his conscience, and, if possible, to make them ashamed of their conduct, he sent for them to his house, and addressed them in the following words: “I never thought a time would come when the behavior of my friends would compel me to esteem and desire the society of my enemies, and wish that I had been defeated rather than victorious; for I believed myself to be associated with those who would set some bounds to their avarice, and who, after having avenged themselves on their enemies, and lived in their country with security and honor, would be satisfied. But now I find myself greatly deceived, unacquainted with the ambition of mankind, and least of all with yours; for, not satisfied with being masters of so great a city, and possessing among yourselves those honors, dignities, and emoluments which used to be divided among many citizens; not contented with having shared among a few the property of your enemies, or with being able to oppress all others with public burdens, while you yourselves are exempt from them, and enjoy all the public offices of profit you must still further load everyone with ill usage. You plunder your neighbors of their wealth; you sell justice; you evade the law; you oppress the timid and exalt the insolent. Nor is there, throughout all Italy, so many and such shocking examples of violence and avarice as in this city. Has our country fostered us only to be her destroyer? Have we been victorious only to effect her ruin? Has she honored us that we may overwhelm her with disgrace? Now, by that faith which is binding upon all good men, I promise you, that if you still conduct yourselves so as to make me regret my victory, I will adopt such measures as shall cause you bitterly to repent of having misused it.” The reply of the citizens accorded with the time and circumstances, but they did not forego their evil practices; so that, in consequence, Piero sent for Agnolo Acciajuoli to come secretly to Cafaggiolo, and discussed with him at great length the condition of the city; and doubtless, had he not been prevented by death, he would have called home the exiles as a check upon the rapine of the opposite party. But these honorable designs were frustrated; for, sinking under bodily infirmities and mental anguish, he expired in the fifty-third year of his age. His goodness and virtue were not duly appreciated by his country, principally from his having, until almost the close of his life, been associated with Cosmo, and the few years he survived being spent in civil discord and constant debility. Piero was buried in the church of St. Lorenzo, near his father, and his obsequies were performed with all the pomp and solemnity due to his exalted station. He left two sons, Lorenzo and Guiliano, whose extreme youth excited alarm in the minds of thinking men, though each gave hopes of future usefulness to the republic.

Among the principal citizens in the government of Florence, and very superior to the rest, was Tommaso Soderini, whose prudence and authority were well known not only at home, but throughout Italy. After Piero’s death, the whole city looked up to him; many citizens waited upon him at his own house, as the head of the government, and several princes addressed him by letter; but he, impartially estimating his own fortune and that of the house of Medici, made no reply to the princes’ communications, and told the citizens, it was not his house, but that of the Medici they ought to visit. To demonstrate by his actions the sincerity and integrity of his advice he assembled all the heads of noble families in the convent of St. Antonio, whither he also brought Lorenzo and Guiliano de’ Medici, and in a long and serious speech upon the state of the city, the condition of Italy, and the views of her princes, he assured them, that if they wished to live in peace and unity in Florence, free both from internal dissensions and foreign wars, it would be necessary to respect the sons of Piero and support the reputation of their house; for men never regret their continuance in a course sanctioned by custom while new methods are soon adopted and as speedily set aside; and it has always been found easier to maintain a power which by its continuance has outlived envy, than to raise a new one, which innumerable unforeseen causes may overthrow. When Tommaso had concluded, Lorenzo spoke, and, though young, with such modesty and discretion that all present felt a presentiment of his becoming what he afterward proved to be; and before the citizens departed they swore to regard the youths as their sons, and the brothers promised to look upon them as their parents. After this, Lorenzo and Guiliano were honored as princes, and resolved to be guided by the advice of Tommaso Soderini.

While profound tranquillity prevailed both at home and abroad, no wars disturbing the general repose, there arose an unexpected disturbance, which came like a presage of future evils. Among the ruined families of the party of Luca Pitti, was that of the Nardi; for Salvestro and his brothers, the heads of the house, were banished and afterward declared rebels for having taken part in the war under Bartolommeo Coglione. Bernardo, the brother of Salvestro, was young, prompt, and bold, and on account of his poverty being unable to alleviate the sorrows of exile, while the peace extinguished all hopes of his return to the city, he determined to attempt some means of rekindling the war; for a trifling commencement often produces great results, and men more readily prosecute what is already begun than originate new enterprises. Bernardo had many acquaintances at Prato, and still more in the district of Pistoia, particularly among the Palandra, a family which, though rustic, was very numerous, and, like the rest of the Pistolesi, brought up to slaughter and war. These he knew to be discontented, on account of the Florentine magistrates having endeavored, perhaps too severely, to check their partiality for inveterate feuds and consequence bloodshed. He was also aware that the people of Prato considered themselves injured by the pride and avarice of their governors, and that some were ill disposed toward Florence; therefore all things considered, he hoped to be able to kindle a fire in Tuscany (should Prato rebel) which would be fostered by so many, that those who might wish to extinguish it would fail in the attempt. He communicated his ideas to Diotisalvi Neroni, and asked him, in case they should succeed in taking possession of Prato, what assistance might be expected from the princes of Italy, by his means? Diotisalvi considered the enterprise as imminently dangerous, and almost impracticable; but since it presented a fresh chance of attaining his object, at the risk of others, he advised him to proceed, and promised certain assistance from Bologna and Ferrara, if he could retain Prato not less than fifteen days. Bernardo, whom this promise inspired with a lively hope of success, proceeded secretly to Prato, and communicated with those most disposed to favor him, among whom were the Palandra; and having arranged the time and plan, informed Diotisalvi of what had been done.

CHAPTER V

Bernardo takes possession of Prato, but is not assisted by the inhabitants — He is taken, and the tumult appeased — Corruption of Florence — The duke of Milan in Florence — The church of Santo Spirito destroyed by fire — The rebellion of Volterra, and the cause of it — Volterra reduced to obedience by force, in accordance with the advice of Lorenzo de’ Medici — Volterra pillaged.

Cesare Petrucci held the office of Provost of Prato for the Florentine people, at this period. It is customary with governors of towns, similarly situated, to keep the keys of the gates near their persons; and whenever, in peaceful times, they are required by any of the inhabitants, for entrance or exit, they are usually allowed to be taken. Bernardo was aware of this custom, and about daybreak, presented himself at the gate which looks toward Pistoia, accompanied by the Palandra and about one hundred persons, all armed. Their confederates within the town also armed themselves, and one of them asked the governor for the keys, alleging, as a pretext, that some one from the country wished to enter. The governor not entertaining the slightest suspicion, sent a servant with them. When at a convenient distance, they were taken by the conspirators, who, opening the gates, introduced Bernardo and his followers. They divided themselves into two parties, one of which, led by Salvestro, an inhabitant of Prato, took possession of the citadel; the other following Bernardo, seized the palace, and placed Cesare with all his family in the custody of some of their number. They then raised the cry of liberty, and proceeded through the town. It was now day, and many of the inhabitants hearing the disturbance, ran to the piazza where, learning that the fortress and the palace were taken and the governor with all his people made prisoners, they were utterly astonished, and could not imagine how it had occurred. The eight citizens, possessing the supreme authority, assembled in their palace to consider what was best to be done. In the meantime, Bernardo and his followers, on going round the town, found no encouragement, and being told that the Eight had assembled, went and declared the nature of their enterprise, which he said was to deliver the country from slavery, reminding them how glorious it would be for those who took arms to effect such an honorable object, for they would thus obtain permanent repose and everlasting fame. He called to recollection their ancient liberty and present condition, and assured them of certain assistance, if they would only, for a few days, aid in resisting the forces the Florentines might send against them. He said he had friends in Florence who would join them as soon as they found the inhabitants resolved to support him. His speech did not produce the desired effect upon the Eight, who replied that they knew not whether Florence was free or enslaved, for that was a matter which they were not called upon to decide; but this they knew very well, that for their own part, they desired no other liberty than to obey the magistrates who governed Florence, from whom they had never received any injury sufficient to make them desire a change. They therefore advised him to set the governor at liberty, clear the place of his people, and, as quickly as possible, withdraw from the danger he had so rashly incurred. Bernardo was not daunted by these words, but determined to try whether fear could influence the people of Prato, since entreaties produced so little effect. In order to terrify them, he determined to put Cesare to death, and having brought him out of prison, ordered him to be hanged at the windows of the palace. He was already led to the spot with a halter around his neck, when seeing Bernardo giving directions to hasten his end, he turned to him, and said: “Bernardo, you put me to death, thinking that the people of Prato will follow you; but the direct contrary will result; for the respect they have for the rectors which the Florentine people send here is so great, that as soon as they witness the injury inflicted upon me, they will conceive such a disgust against you as will inevitably effect your ruin. Therefore, it is not by my death, but by the preservation of my life, that you can attain the object you have in view; for if I deliver your commands, they will be much more readily obeyed, and following your directions, we shall soon attain the completion of your design.” Bernardo, whose mind was not fertile in expedients, thought the advice good, and commanded Cesare, on being conducted to a veranda which looked upon the piazza, to order the people of Prato to obey him, and having done which, Cesare was led back to prison.

The weakness of the conspirators was obvious; and many Florentines residing in the town, assembled together, among whom, Giorgio Ginori, a knight of Rhodes, took arms first against them, and attacked Bernardo, who traversed the piazza, alternately entreating and threatening those who refused to obey him, and being surrounded by Giorgio’s followers, he was wounded and made prisoner. This being done, it was easy to set the governor at liberty and subdue the rest, who being few, and divided into several parties, were nearly all either secured or slain. An exaggerated report of these transactions reached Florence, it being told there that Prato was taken, the governor and his friends put to death, and the place filled with the enemy; and that Pistoia was also in arms, and most of the citizens in the conspiracy. In consequence of this alarming account, the palace as quickly filled with citizens, who consulted with the Signory what course ought to be adopted. At this time, Roberto da San Severino, one of the most distinguished generals of this period, was at Florence, and it was therefore determined to send him, with what forces could be collected, to Prato, with orders that he should approach the place, particularly observe what was going on, and provide such remedies as the necessity of the case and his own prudence should suggest. Roberto had scarcely passed the fortress of Campi, when he was met by a messenger from the governor, who informed him that Bernardo was taken, his followers either dispersed or slain, and everything restored to order. He consequently returned to Florence, whither Bernardo was shortly after conveyed, and when questioned by the magistracy concerning the real motives of such a weak conspiracy, he said, he had undertaken it, because, having resolved to die in Florence rather than live in exile, he wished his death to be accompanied by some memorable action.

This disturbance having been raised and quelled almost at the same time, the citizens returned to their accustomed mode of life, hoping to enjoy, without anxiety, the state they had now established and confirmed. Hence arose many of those evils which usually result from peace; for the youth having become more dissolute than before, more extravagant in dress, feasting, and other licentiousness, and being without employment, wasted their time and means on gaming and women; their principal study being how to appear splendid in apparel, and attain a crafty shrewdness in discourse; he who could make the most poignant remark being considered the wisest, and being most respected. These manners derived additional encouragement from the followers of the duke of Milan, who, with his duchess and the whole ducal court, as it was said, to fulfill a vow, came to Florence, where he was received with all the pomp and respect due to so great a prince, and one so intimately connected with the Florentine people. Upon this occasion the city witnessed an unprecedented exhibition; for, during Lent, when the church commands us to abstain from animal food, the Milanese, without respect for either God or his church, ate of it daily. Many spectacles were exhibited in honor of the duke, and among others, in the temple of Santo Spirito, was represented the descent of the Holy Ghost among the apostles; and in consequence of the numerous fires used upon the occasion, some of the woodwork became ignited, and the church was completely destroyed by the flames. Many thought that the Almighty being offended at our misconduct, took this method of signifying his displeasure. If, therefore, the duke found the city full of courtly delicacies, and customs unsuitable to well-regulated conduct, he left it in a much worse state. Hence the good citizens thought it necessary to restrain these improprieties, and made a law to put a stop to extravagance in dress, feasts, and funerals.

In the midst of this universal peace, a new and unexpected disturbance arose in Tuscany. Certain citizens of Volterra had discovered an alum-mine in their district, and being aware of the profit derivable from it, in order to obtain the means of working and securing it, they applied to some Florentines, and allowed them to share in the profits. This, as is frequently the case with new undertakings, at first excited little attention from the people of Volterra; but in time, finding the profits derived from it had become considerable, they fruitlessly endeavored to effect what at first might have been easily accomplished. They began by agitating the question in their councils, declaring it grossly improper that a source of wealth discovered in the public lands should be converted to the emolument of private individuals. They next sent advocates to Florence, and the question was referred to the consideration of certain citizens, who, either through being bribed by the party in possession, or from a sincere conviction, declared the aim of the people of Volterra to be unjust in desiring to deprive their citizens of the fruit of their labor; and decided that the alum-pit was the rightful property of those who had hitherto wrought it; but, at the same time, recommended them to pay an annual sum by way of acknowledgment to the city. This answer instead of abating, served only to increase the animosities and tumult in Volterra, and absorbed entire attention both in the councils and throughout the city; the people demanding the restitution of what they considered their due, and the proprietors insisting upon their right to retain what they had originally acquired, and what had been subsequently been confirmed to them by the decision of the Florentines. In the midst of these disturbances, a respectable citizen, named Il Pecorino, was killed, together with several others, who had embraced the same side, whose houses were also plundered and burned; and the fury of the mob rose to such a height, that they were with difficulty restrained from putting the Florentine rectors to death.

After the first outrage, the Volterrani immediately determined to send ambassadors to Florence, who intimated, that if the Signory would allow them their ancient privileges, the city would remain subject to them as formerly. Many and various were the opinions concerning the reply to be made. Tommaso Soderini advised that they should accept the submission of the people of Volterra, upon any conditions with which they were disposed to make it; for he considered it unreasonable and unwise to kindle a flame so near home that it might burn their own dwelling; he suspected the pope’s ambition, and was apprehensive of the power of the king; nor could he confide in the friendship either of the duke or the Venetians, having no assurance of the sincerity of the latter, or the valor of the former. He concluded by quoting that trite proverb, “Meglio un magro accordo che una grassa vittoria.”[*] On the other hand, Lorenzo de’ Medici, thinking this an opportunity for exhibiting his prudence and wisdom, and being strenuously supported by those who envied the influence of Tommaso Soderini, resolved to march against them, and punish the arrogance of the people of Volterra with arms; declaring that if they were not made a striking example, others would, without the least fear or respect, upon every slight occasion, adopt a similar course. The enterprise being resolved on, the Volterrani were told that they could not demand the observance of conditions which they themselves had broken, and therefore must either submit to the direction of the Signory or expect war. With this answer they returned to their city, and prepared for its defense; fortifying the place, and sending to all the princes of Italy to request assistance, none of whom listened to them, except the Siennese and the lord of Piombino, who gave them some hope of aid. The Florentines on the other hand, thinking success dependent principally upon celerity, assembled ten thousand foot and two thousand horse, who, under the command of Federigo, lord of Urbino, marched into the country of Volterra and quickly took entire possession of it. They then encamped before the city, which, being in a lofty situation, and precipitous on all sides, could only be approached by a narrow pass near the church of St. Alessandro. The Volterrani had engaged for their defense about one thousand mercenaries, who, perceiving the great superiority of the Florentines, found the place untenable, and were tardy in their defensive operations, but indefatigable in the constant injuries they committed upon the people of the place. Thus these poor citizens were harassed by the enemy without, and by their own soldiery within; so, despairing of their safety, they began to think of a capitulation; and, being unable to obtain better terms, submitted to the discretion of the Florentine commissaries, who ordered the gates to be opened, and introduced the greater part of their forces. They then proceeded to the palace, and commanded the priors to retire to their homes; and, on the way thither, one of them was in derision stripped by the soldiers. From this beginning (so much more easily are men predisposed to evil than to good) originated the pillage and destruction of the city; which for a whole day suffered the greatest horrors, neither women nor sacred places being spared; and the soldiery, those engaged for its defense as well as its assailants, plundered all that came within their reach. The news of this victory was received with great joy at Florence, and as the expedition had been undertaken wholly by the advice of Lorenzo, he acquired great reputation. Upon which one of the intimate friends of Tommaso Soderini, reminding him of the advice he had given, asked him what he thought of the taking of Volterra; to which he replied, “To me the place seems rather lost than won; for had it been received on equitable terms, advantage and security would have been the result; but having to retain it by force it will in critical junctures, occasion weakness and anxiety, and in times of peace, injury and expense.”

    [*] A lean peace is better than a fat victory.

CHAPTER VI

Origin of the animosity between Sixtus IV. and Lorenzo de’ Medici — Carlo di Braccio da Perugia attacks the Siennese — Carlo retires by desire of the Florentines — Conspiracy against Galeazzo, duke of Milan — His vices — He is slain by the conspirators — Their deaths.

The pope, anxious to retain the territories of the church in obedience, had caused Spoleto to be sacked for having, through internal factions, fallen into rebellion. Citta di Castello being in the same state of contumacy, he besieged that place; and Niccolo Vitelli its prince, being on intimate terms with Lorenzo de’ Medici, obtained assistance from him, which, though inadequate, was quite enough to originate that enmity between Sixtus IV. and the Medici afterward productive of such unhappy results. Nor would this have been so long in development had not the death of Frate Piero, cardinal of St. Sixtus, taken place; who, after having traveled over Italy and visited Venice and Milan (under the pretense of doing honor to the marriage of Ercole, marquis of Ferrara), went about sounding the minds of the princes, to learn how they were disposed toward the Florentines. But upon his return he died, not without suspicion of having been poisoned by the Venetians, who found they would have reason to fear Sixtus if he were allowed to avail himself of the talents and exertions of Frate Piero. Although of very low extraction, and meanly brought up within the walls of a convent, he had no sooner attained the distinction of the scarlet hat, than he exhibited such inordinate pride and ambition, that the pontificate seemed too little for him, and he gave a feast in Rome which would have seemed extraordinary even for a king, the expense exceeding twenty thousand florins. Deprived of this minister, the designs of Sixtus proceeded with less promptitude. The Florentines, the duke, and the Venetians having renewed their league, and allowed the pope and the king to join them if they thought proper, the two latter also entered into a league, reserving an opening for the others if they were desirous to become parties to it. Italy was thus divided in two factions; for circumstances daily arose which occasioned ill feeling between the two leagues; as occurred with respect to the island of Cyprus, to which Ferrando laid claim, and the Venetians occupied. Thus the pope and the king became more closely united. Federigo, prince of Urbino, was at this time one of the first generals of Italy; and had long served the Florentines. In order, if possible, to deprive the hostile league of their captain, the pope advised, and the king requested him to pay a visit to them. To the surprise and displeasure of the Florentines, Federigo complied; for they thought the same fate awaited him as had befallen Niccolo Piccinino. However, the result was quite different; for he returned from Naples and Rome greatly honored, and with the appointment of general to their forces. They also endeavored to gain over to their interest the lords of Romagna and the Siennese, that they might more easily injure the Florentines, who, becoming aware of these things, used their utmost endeavors to defend themselves against the ambition of their enemies; and having lost Federigo d’Urbino, they engaged Roberto da Rimino in his place, renewed the league with the Perugini and formed one with the prince of Faenza. The pope and the king assigned, as the reasons of their animosity against the Florentines, that they wished to withdraw them from the Venetian alliance, and associate them with their own league; for the pope did not think the church could maintain her reputation, nor the Count Girolamo retain the states of Romagna, while the Florentines and the Venetians remained united. The Florentines conjectured their design was to set them at enmity with the Venetians, not so much for the sake of gaining their friendship as to be able the more easily to injure them. Two years passed away in these jealousies and discontents before any disturbance broke out; but the first which occurred, and that but trivial, took place in Tuscany.

Braccio of Perugia, whom we have frequently mentioned as one of the most distinguished warriors of Italy, left two sons, Oddo and Carlo; the latter was of tender years; the former, as above related, was slain by the people of Val di Lamona; but Carlo, when he came to mature age, was by the Venetians, out of respect for the memory of his father, and the hopes they entertained from himself, received among the condottieri of their republic. The term of his engagement having expired, he did not design to renew it immediately, but resolved to try if, by his own influence and his father’s reputation, he could recover possession of Perugia. To this the Venetians willingly consented, for they usually extended their dominion by any changes that occurred in the neighboring states. Carlo consequently came into Tuscany, but found more difficulties in his attempt upon Perugia than he had anticipated, on account of its being allied with the Florentines; and desirous of doing something worthy of memory, he made war upon the Siennese, alleging them to be indebted to him for services performed by his father in the affairs of that republic, and attacked them with such impetuosity as to threaten the total overthrow of their dominion. The Siennese, ever ready to suspect the Florentines, persuaded themselves that this outrage had been committed with their cognizance, and made heavy complaints to the pope and the king against them. They also sent ambassadors to Florence to complain of the injuries they had suffered, and adroitly intimated, that if Carlo had not been secretly supported he could not have made war upon them with such perfect security. The Florentines denied all participation in the proceedings of Carlo, expressed their most earnest wish to do everything in their power to put a stop to them, and allowed the ambassadors to use whatever terms they pleased in the name of the Signory, to command him to desist. Carlo complained that the Florentines, by their unwillingness to support him, had deprived themselves of a most valuable acquisition and him of great glory; for he could have insured them the possession of the whole territory in a short time, from the want of courage in the people and the ineffectual provision they had made for their defense. He then withdrew to his engagement under the Venetians; but the Siennese, although delivered from such imminent peril by the Florentines, were still very indignant against them; considering themselves under no obligation to those who had delivered them from an evil to which they had first exposed them.

While the transactions between the king and the pope were in progress, and those in Tuscany in the manner we have related, an event of greater importance occurred in Lombardy. Cola Montano, a learned and ambitious man, taught the Latin language to the youth of the principal families in Milan. Either out of hatred to the character and manners of the duke, or from some other cause, he constantly deprecated the condition of those who live under a bad prince; calling those glorious and happy who had the good fortune to be born and live in a republic. He endeavored to show that the most celebrated men had been produced in republics, and not reared under princes; that the former cherish virtue, while the latter destroy it; the one deriving advantage from virtuous men, while the latter naturally fear them. The youths with whom he was most intimate were Giovanni Andrea Lampognano, Carlo Visconti, and Girolamo Ogliato. He frequently discussed with them the faults of their prince, and the wretched condition of those who were subject to him; and by constantly inculcating his principles, acquired such an ascendancy over their minds as to induce them to bind themselves by oath to effect the duke’s destruction, as soon as they became old enough to attempt it. Their minds being fully occupied with this design, which grew with their years, the duke’s conduct and their own private injuries served to hasten its execution. Galeazzo was licentious and cruel, of both which vices he had given such repeated proofs, that he became odious to all. Not content with corrupting the wives of the nobility, he also took pleasure in making it notorious; nor was he satisfied with murdering individuals unless he effected their deaths by some unusual cruelty. He was suspected of having destroyed his own mother; for, not considering himself prince while she was present, he conducted himself in such a manner as induced her to withdraw from his court, and, travelling toward Cremona, which she obtained as part of her marriage portion, she was seized with a sudden illness, and died upon the road; which made many think her son had caused her death. The duke had dishonored both Carlo and Girolamo in respect to their wives or other female relatives, and had refused to concede to Giovanandrea possession of the monastery of Miramondo, of which he had obtained a grant from the pope for a near relative. These private injuries increased the young men’s desire for vengeance, and the deliverance of their country from so many evils; trusting that whenever they should succeed in destroying the duke, many of the nobility and all the people would rise in their defense. Being resolved upon their undertaking, they were often together, which, on account of their long intimacy, did not excite any suspicion. They frequently discussed the subject; and in order to familiarize their minds with the deed itself, they practiced striking each other in the breast and in the side with the sheathed daggers intended to be used for the purpose. On considering the most suitable time and place, the castle seemed insecure; during the chase, uncertain and dangerous; while going about the city for his own amusement, difficult if not impracticable; and, at a banquet, of doubtful result. They, therefore, determined to kill him upon the occasion of some procession or public festivity when there would be no doubt of his presence, and where they might, under various pretexts, assemble their friends. It was also resolved that if one of their number were prevented from attending, on any account whatever, the rest should put him to death in the midst of their armed enemies.

It was now the close of the year 1476, near Christmas, and as it was customary for the duke to go upon St. Stephen’s day, in great solemnity, to the church of that martyr, they considered this the most suitable opportunity for the execution of their design. Upon the morning of that day they ordered some of their most trusty friends and servants to arm, telling them they wished to go to the assistance of Giovanandrea, who, contrary to the wish of some of his neighbors, intended to turn a watercourse into his estate; but that before they went they wished to take leave of the prince. They also assembled, under various pretenses, other friends and relatives, trusting that when the deed was accomplished, everyone would join them in the completion of their enterprise. It was their intention, after the duke’s death, to collect their followers together and proceed to those parts of the city where they imagined the plebeians would be most disposed to take arms against the duchess and the principal ministers of state, and they thought the people, on account of the famine which then prevailed, would easily be induced to follow them; for it was their design to give up the houses of Cecco Simonetta, Giovanni Botti, and Francesco Lucani, all leading men in the government, to be plundered, and by this means gain over the populace and restore liberty to the community. With these ideas, and with minds resolved upon their execution, Giovanandrea, together with the rest, were early at the church, and heard mass together; after which, Giovanandrea, turning to a statue of St. Ambrose, said, “O patron of our city! thou knowest our intention, and the end we would attain, by so many dangers; favor our enterprise, and prove, by protecting the oppressed, that tyranny is offensive to thee.” To the duke, on the other hand, when intending to go to the church, many omens occurred of his approaching death; for in the morning, having put on a cuirass, as was his frequent custom, he immediately took it off again, either because it inconvenienced him, or that he did not like its appearance. He then wished to hear mass in the castle, and found that the priest who officiated in the chapel had gone to St. Stephen’s, and had taken with him the sacred utensils. On this he desired the service to be performed by the bishop of Como, who acquainted him with preventing circumstances. Thus, almost compelled, he determined to go to the church; but before his departure, caused his sons, Giovan Galeazzo and Ermes, to be brought to him, whom he embraced and kissed several times, seeming reluctant to part with them. He then left the castle, and, with the ambassadors of Ferrara and Mantua on either hand, proceeded to St. Stephen’s. The conspirators, to avoid exciting suspicion, and to escape the cold, which was very severe, had withdrawn to an apartment of the archpriest, who was a friend of theirs, but hearing the duke’s approach, they came into the church, Giovanandrea and Girolamo placing themselves upon the right hand of the entrance, and Carlo on the left. Those who led the procession had already entered, and were followed by the duke, surrounded by such a multitude as is usual on similar occasions. The first attack was made by Lampognano and Girolamo, who, pretending to clear the way for the prince, came close to him, and grasping their daggers, which, being short and sharp, were concealed in the sleeves of their vests, struck at him. Lampognano gave him two wounds, one in the belly, the other in the throat. Girolamo struck him in the throat and breast. Carlo Visconti, being nearer the door, and the duke having passed, could not wound him in front: but with two strokes, transpierced his shoulder and spine. These six wounds were inflicted so instantaneously, that the duke had fallen before anyone was aware of what had happened, and he expired, having only once ejaculated the name of the Virgin, as if imploring her assistance. A great tumult immediately ensued, several swords were drawn, and as often happens in sudden emergencies, some fled from the church, and others ran toward the scene of tumult, both without any definite motive or knowledge of what had occurred. Those, however, who were nearest the duke and had seen him slain, recognizing the murderers, pursued them. Giovanandrea, endeavoring to make his way out of the church, proceeded among the women, who being numerous, and according to their custom, seated upon the ground, was prevented in his progress by their apparel, and being overtaken, he was killed by a Moor, one of the duke’s footmen. Carlo was slain by those immediately around him. Girolamo Olgiato passed through the crowd, and got out of the church; but seeing his companions dead, and not knowing where else to go, he proceeded home, where his father and brothers refused to receive him; his mother only, having compassion on her son recommended him to a priest, an old friend of the family, who, disguising him in his own apparel, led him to his house. Here he remained two days, not without hope that some disturbance might arise in Milan which would contribute to his safety. This not occurring, and apprehensive that his hiding place would be discovered, he endeavored to escape in disguise, but being observed, he was given over to justice, and disclosed all the particulars of the conspiracy. Girolamo was twenty-three years of age, and exhibited no less composure at his death than resolution in his previous conduct, for being stripped of his apparel, and in the hands of the executioner, who stood by with the sword unsheathed, ready to deprive him of life, he repeated the following words, in the Latin tongue, in which he was well versed: “Mors acerba, fama perpetua, stabit vetus memoria facti.”

The enterprise of these unfortunate young men was conducted with secrecy and executed with resolution; and they failed for want of the support of those whom they expected would rise in their defense. Let princes therefore learn to live, so as to render themselves beloved and respected by their subjects, that none may have hope of safety after having destroyed them; and let others see how vain is the expectation which induces them to trust so much to the multitude, as to believe, that even when discontented, they will either embrace or ward off their dangers. This event spread consternation all over Italy; but those which shortly afterward occurred in Florence caused much more alarm, and terminated a peace of twelve years’ continuance, as will be shown in the following book; which, having commenced with blood and horror, will have a melancholy and tearful conclusion.

BOOK VIII

CHAPTER I

State of the family of the Medici at Florence — Enmity of Sixtus IV. toward Florence — Differences between the family of the Pazzi and that of the Medici — Beginning of the conspiracy of the Pazzi — Arrangements to effect the design of the conspiracy — Giovanni Batista da Montesecco is sent to Florence — The pope joins the conspiracy — The king of Naples becomes a party to it — Names of the conspirators — The conspirators make many ineffectual attempts to kill Lorenzo and Giuliano de’ Medici — The final arrangement — Order of the conspiracy.

This book, commencing between two conspiracies, the one at Milan already narrated, the other yet to be recorded, it would seem appropriate, and in accordance with our usual custom, were we to treat of the nature and importance of these terrible demonstrations. This we should willingly do had we not discussed the matter elsewhere, or could it be comprised in few words. But requiring much consideration, and being already noticed in another place, it will be omitted, and we shall proceed with our narrative. The government of the Medici having subdued all its avowed enemies in order to obtain for that family undivided authority, and distinguish them from other citizens in their relation to the rest, found it necessary to subdue those who secretly plotted against them. While Medici contended with other families, their equals in authority and reputation, those who envied their power were able to oppose them openly without danger of being suppressed at the first demonstration of hostility; for the magistrates being free, neither party had occasion to fear, till one or other of them was overcome. But after the victory of 1466, the government became so entirely centred in the Medici, and they acquired so much authority, that discontented spirits were obliged either to suffer in silence, or, if desirous to destroy them, to attempt it in secrecy, and by clandestine means; which plots rarely succeed and most commonly involve the ruin of those concerned in them, while they frequently contribute to the aggrandizement of those against whom they are directed. Thus the prince of a city attacked by a conspiracy, if not slain like the duke of Milan (which seldom happens), almost always attains to a greater degree of power, and very often has his good disposition perverted to evil. The proceedings of his enemies give him cause for fear; fear suggests the necessity of providing for his own safety, which involves the injury of others; and hence arise animosities, and not unfrequently his ruin. Thus these conspiracies quickly occasion the destruction of their contrivers, and, in time, inevitably injure their primary object.

Italy, as we have seen above, was divided into two factions; the pope and the king on one side; on the other, the Venetians, the duke, and the Florentines. Although the flames of war had not yet broken out, every day gave rise to some new occasion for rekindling them; and the pope, in particular, in all his plans endeavored to annoy the Florentine government. Thus Filippo de’ Medici, archbishop of Pisa, being dead, Francesco Salviati, a declared enemy of the Medici, was appointed his successor, contrary to the wish of the Signory of Florence, who being unwilling to give him possession, there arose between them and the pope many fresh grounds of offense, before the matter was settled. Besides this, he conferred, at Rome, many favors upon the family of the Pazzi, and opposed that of the Medici, whenever an opportunity offered. The Pazzi were at this time, both on account of nobility of birth and their great wealth, the most brilliant in France. The head of this family was Jacopo, whom the people, on account of his distinguished pre-eminence, had made a knight. He had no children, except one natural daughter, but many nephews, sons of his brothers Piero and Antonio, the first of whom were Guglielmo, Francesco, Rinato, Giovanni, and then, Andrea, Niccolo, and Galeotto. Cosmo de’ Medici, noticing the riches and rank of this family, had given his granddaughter, Bianca, to Guglielmo, hoping by this marriage to unite the houses, and obviate those enmities and dissensions so frequently occasioned by jealousy. However (so uncertain and fallacious are our expectations), very different feelings were thus originated; for Lorenzo’s advisers pointed out to him how dangerous it was, and how injurious to his authority, to unite in the same individuals so much wealth and power. In consequence, neither Jacopo nor his nephews obtained those degrees of honor, which in the opinion of other citizens were their due. This gave rise to anger in the Pazzi, and fear on the part of the Medici; as the former of these increased, so did the latter; and upon all occasions, when the Pazzi came in competition with other citizens, their claims to distinction, however strong, were set aside by the magistracy. Francesco de’ Pazzi, being at Rome, the Council of Eight, upon some trivial occasion, compelled him to return, without treating him with the respect usually observed toward great citizens, so that the Pazzi everywhere bitterly complained of the ill usage they experienced, and thus excited suspicion in others, and brought down greater evils upon themselves. Giovanni de’ Pazzi had married the daughter of Giovanni Buonromei, a very wealthy man, whose riches on his decease, without other children, came to his daughter. His nephew, Carlo, however, took possession of part, and the question being litigated, a law was passed, by virtue of which the wife of Giovanni de’ Pazzi was robbed of her inheritance, and it was given to Carlo. In this piece of injustice the Pazzi at once recognized the influence of the Medici. Giuliano de’ Medici often complained to his brother Lorenzo of the affair, saying he was afraid that by grasping at too much they would lose all.

Lorenzo, flushed with youth and power, would assume the direction of everything, and resolved that all transactions should bear an impress of his influence. The Pazzi, with their nobility and wealth unable to endure so many affronts, began to devise some means of vengeance. The first who spoke of any attempt against the Medici, was Francesco, who, being more sensitive and resolute than the others, determined either to obtain what was withheld from him, or lose what he still possessed. As the government of Florence gave him great offense, he resided almost constantly at Rome, where, like other Florentine merchants, he conducted extensive commercial operations; and being a most intimate friend of Count Girolamo, they frequently complained to each other of the conduct of the Medici. After a while they began to think that for the count to retain his estates, or the Pazzi their rights in the city, it would be necessary to change the government of Florence; and this they considered could not be done without the death of Giuliano and Lorenzo. They imagined the pope and the king would be easily induced to consent, because each could be convinced of the facility of the enterprise. Having acquired these ideas, they communicated them to Francesco Salviati, archbishop of Pisa, who, being ambitious and recently offended by the Medici, willingly adopted their views. Considering their next step, they resolved, in order to facilitate the design, to obtain the consent of Jacopo de’ Pazzi, without whose concurrence they feared it would be impracticable. With this view, it was resolved that Francesco de’ Pazzi should go to Florence, while the archbishop and the count were to remain at Rome, to be ready to communicate with the pope when a suitable opportunity occurred. Francesco found Jacopo de’ Pazzi more cautious and difficult to persuade than he could have wished, and on imparting this to his friends at Rome, it was thought he desired the sanction of some greater authority to induce him to adopt their views. Upon this, the archbishop and the count communicated the whole affair to Giovanni Batista da Montesecco, a leader of the papal forces, possessing military reputation, and under obligations to the pope and the count. To him the affair seemed difficult and dangerous, while the archbishop endeavored to obviate his objections by showing how much assistance the pope and the king would lend to the enterprise; the hatred of the Florentines toward the Medici, the numerous friends the Salviati and the Pazzi would bring with them, the readiness with which the young men might be slain, on account of their going about the city unaccompanied and without suspicion, and the facility with which the government might then be changed. These things Giovanni Batista did not in reality believe, for he had heard from many Florentines quite contrary statements.

While occupied with these deliberations, Carlo, lord of Faenza, was taken ill, and tears were entertained for his life. This circumstance seemed to the archbishop and the count to offer an opportunity for sending Giovanni Batista to Florence, and thence to Romagna, under pretence of recovering certain territories belonging to the latter, of which the lord of Faenza had taken possession. The count therefore commissioned Giovanni Batista to have an interview with Lorenzo de’ Medici, and on his part request his advice how to proceed with respect to the affair of Romagna; that he should then see Francesco de’ Pazzi, and in conjunction with him endeavor to induce his uncle Jacopo to adopt their ideas. To render the pope’s authority available in their behalf, Giovanni Batista was ordered, before his departure, to communicate with the pontiff, who offered every means at his disposal in favor of their enterprise. Giovanni Batista, having arrived at Florence, obtained an interview with Lorenzo, by whom he was most graciously received; and with regard to the advice he was commissioned to ask, obtained a wise and friendly answer; so that he was astonished at finding him quite a different character from what he had been represented, and considered him to possess great sagacity, an affectionate heart, and most amicably disposed toward the count. He found Francesco de’ Pazzi had gone to Lucca, and spoke to Jacopo, who was at first quite opposed to their design, but before they parted the pope’s authority seemed to have influenced him; for he told Giovanni Batista, that he might go to Romagna, and that before his return Francesco would be with him, and they would then consult more particularly upon the subject. Giovanni Batista proceeded to Romagna, and soon returned to Florence. After a pretended consultation with Lorenzo, upon the count’s affairs, he obtained an interview with Francesco and Jacopo de’ Pazzi, when the latter gave his consent to their enterprise. They then discussed the means of carrying it into effect. Jacopo de’ Pazzi was of opinion that it could not be effected while both the brothers remained at Florence; and therefore it would be better to wait till Lorenzo went to Rome, whither it was reported he had an intention of going; for then their object would be more easily attained. Francesco de’ Pazzi had no objection to Lorenzo being at Rome, but if he were to forego the journey, he thought that both the brothers might be slain, either at a marriage, or at a play, or in a church. With regard to foreign assistance, he supposed the pope might assemble forces for the conquest of the fortress of Montone, being justified in taking it from Count Carlo, who had caused the tumults already spoken of in Sienna and Perugia.

Still no definite arrangement was made; but it was resolved that Giovanni Batista and Francesco de’ Pazzi should go to Rome and settle everything with the pontiff. The matter was again debated at Rome; and at length it was concluded that besides an expedition against Montone, Giovan Francesco da Tolentino, a leader of the papal troops, should go into Romagna, and Lorenzo da Castello to the Val di Tavere; that each, with the forces of the country, should hold himself in readiness to perform the commands of the archbishop de’ Salviati and Francesco de Pazzi, both of whom were to come to Florence, and provide for the execution of their design, with the assistance of Giovanni Batista da Montesecco. King Ferrando promised, by his ambassador, to contribute all in his power to the success of their undertaking. Francesco de’ Pazzi and the archbishop having arrived at Florence, prevailed upon Jacopo di Poggio, a well educated youth, but ambitious and very desirous of change, to join them, and two others, each of the name of Jacopo Salviati, one a brother, the other a kinsman, of the archbishop. They also gained over Bernardo Bandini and Napoleone Franzeni, two bold young men, under great obligations to the family of the Pazzi. Besides those already mentioned, they were joined by Antonio da Volterra and a priest named Stefano, who taught Latin to the daughter of Jacopo de’ Pazzi. Rinato de’ Pazzi, a grave and prudent man, being quite aware of the evils resulting from such undertakings, refused all participation in the conspiracy; he held it in abhorrence, and as much as possible, without betraying his kinsmen, endeavored to counteract it.

The pope had sent Raffaello di Riario, a nephew of Count Girolamo, to the college of Pisa, to study canon law, and while there, had advanced him to the dignity of a cardinal. The conspirators determined to bring this cardinal to Florence, as they would thus be better able to conceal their design, since any persons requisite to be introduced into the city might easily be made to appear as a part of his retinue, and his arrival might facilitate the completion of their enterprise. The cardinal came, and was received by Jacopo de’ Pazzi at his villa of Montughi, near Florence. By his means it was also intended to bring together Giuliano and Lorenzo, and whenever this happened, to put them both to death. They therefore invited them to meet the cardinal at their villa of Fiesole; but Giuliano, either intentionally or through some preventing cause, did not attend; and this design having failed, they thought that if asked to an entertainment at Florence, both brothers would certainly be present. With this intention they appointed Sunday, the twenty-sixth of April, 1478, to give a great feast; and, resolving to assassinate them at table, the conspirators met on the Saturday evening to arrange all proceedings for the following day. In the morning it was intimated to Francesco that Giuliano would be absent; on which the conspirators again assembled and finding they could no longer defer the execution of their design, since it would be impossible among so many to preserve secrecy, they determined to complete it in the cathedral church of Santa Reparata, where the cardinal attending, the two brothers would be present as usual. They wished Giovanni Batista da Montesecco to undertake the murder of Lorenzo, while that of Giuliano was assigned to Francesco de’ Pazzi and Bernardo Bandini. Giovanni Batista refused, either because his familiarity with Lorenzo had created feelings in his favor, or from some other reason, saying he should not have resolution sufficient to commit such a deed in a church, and thus add sacrilege to treachery. This caused the failure of their undertaking; for time pressing, they were compelled to substitute Antonio da Volterra and Stefano, the priest, two men, who, from nature and habit, were the most unsuitable of any; for if firmness and resolution joined with experience in bloodshed be necessary upon any occasion, it is on such as these; and it often happens that those who are expert in arms, and have faced death in all forms on the field of battle, still fail in an affair like this. Having now decided upon the time, they resolved that the signal for the attack should be the moment when the priest who celebrated high mass should partake of the sacrament, and that, in the meantime, the Archbishop de’ Salviati, with his followers, and Jacopo di Poggio, should take possession of the palace, in order that the Signory, after the young men’s death, should voluntarily, or by force, contribute to their assistance.

CHAPTER II

Giuliano de’ Medici slain — Lorenzo escapes — The archbishop Salviati endeavors to seize the palace of the Signory — He is taken and hanged — The enterprise of the conspirators entirely fails — Manifestations of the Florentines in favor of Lorenzo de’ Medici — The conspirators punished — The funeral of Giuliano — The pope and the king of Naples make war upon the Florentines — Florence excommunicated — Speech of Lorenzo de’ Medici to the citizens of Florence.

The conspirators proceeded to Santa Reparata, where the cardinal and Lorenzo had already arrived. The church was crowded, and divine service commenced before Giuliano’s arrival. Francesco de’ Pazzi and Bernardo Bandini, who were appointed to be his murderers, went to his house, and finding him, they, by earnest entreaties, prevailed upon him to accompany them. It is surprising that such intense hatred, and designs so full of horror as those of Francesco and Bernardo, could be so perfectly concealed; for while conducting him to the church, and after they had reached it, they amused him with jests and playful discourse. Nor did Francesco forget, under pretense of endearment, to press him in his arms, so as to ascertain whether under his apparel he wore a cuirass or other means of defense. Giuliano and Lorenzo were both aware of the animosity of the Pazzi, and their desire to deprive them of the government; but they felt assured that any design would be attempted openly, and in conjunction with the civil authority. Thus being free from apprehension for their personal safety both affected to be on friendly terms with them. The murderers being ready, each in his appointed station, which they could retain without suspicion, on account of the vast numbers assembled in the church, the preconcerted moment arrived, and Bernardo Bandini, with a short dagger provided for the purpose, struck Giuliano in the breast, who, after a few steps, fell to the earth. Francesco de’ Pazzi threw himself upon the body and covered him with wounds; while, as if blinded by rage, he inflicted a deep incision upon his own leg. Antonio and Stefano, the priest, attacked Lorenzo, and after dealing many blows, effected only a slight incision in the throat; for either their want of resolution, the activity of Lorenzo, who, finding himself attacked, used his arms in his own defense, or the assistance of those by whom he was surrounded, rendered all attempts futile. They fled and concealed themselves, but being subsequently discovered, were put to death in the most ignominious manner, and their bodies dragged about the city. Lorenzo, with the friends he had about him, took refuge in the sacristy of the church. Bernardo Bandini, after Giuliano’s death, also slew Francesco Nori, a most intimate friend of the Medici, either from some previous hatred or for having endeavored to render assistance to Giuliano; and not content with these murders, he ran in pursuit of Lorenzo, intending, by his own promptitude, to make up for the weakness and inefficiency of the others; but finding he had taken refuge in the vestry, he was prevented.

In the midst of these violent and fearful deeds, during which the uproar was so terrible, that it seemed almost sufficient to bring the church down upon its inmates, the cardinal Riario remained close to the altar, where he was with difficulty kept in safety by the priests, until the Signory, upon the abatement of the disturbance, could conduct him to their palace, where he remained in the utmost terror till he was set at liberty.

There were at this time in Florence some people of Perugia, whom party feuds had compelled to leave their homes; and the Pazzi, by promising to restore them to their country, obtained their assistance. The Archbishop de’ Salviati, going to seize the palace, together with Jacopo di Poggio, and the Salviati, his friends, took these Perugini with him. Having arrived, he left part of his people below, with orders that when they heard a noise they should make themselves masters of the entrance, while himself, with the greater part of the Perugini, proceeded above, and finding the Signory at dinner (for it was now late), was admitted after a short delay, by Cesare Petrucci, the Gonfalonier of Justice. He entered with only a few of his followers, the greater part of them being shut up in the cancelleria into which they had gone, whose doors were so contrived, that upon closing they could not be opened from either side, without the key. The archbishop being with the gonfalonier, under pretense of having something to communicate on the part of the pope, addressed him in such an incoherent and hesitating manner, that the gonfalonier at once suspected him, and rushing out of the chamber to call assistance, found Jacopo di Poggio, whom he seized by the hair of the head, and gave into the custody of his attendants. The Signory hearing the tumult, snatched such arms as they could at the moment obtain, and all who had gone up with the archbishop, part of them being shut up, and part overcome with terror, were immediately slain or thrown alive out of the windows of the palace, at which the archbishop, the two Jacopi Salviati, and Jacopodi Poggio were hanged. Those whom the archbishop left below, having mastered the guard and taken possession of the entrance occupied all the lower floors, so that the citizens, who in the uproar, hastened to the palace, were unable to give either advice or assistance to the Signory.

Francesco de’ Pazzi and Bernardo Bandini, perceiving Lorenzo’s escape, and the principal agent in the enterprise seriously wounded, became immediately conscious of the imminent peril of their position. Bernardo, using the same energy in his own behalf that had served him against the Medici, finding all lost, saved himself by flight. Francesco, wounded as he was, got to his house, and endeavored to get on horseback, for it had been arranged they should ride through the city and call the people to arms and liberty; but he found himself unable, from the nature of his wound, and, throwing himself naked upon his bed, begged Jacopo de’ Pazzi to perform the part for which he was himself incapacitated. Jacopo, though old and unaccustomed to such business, by way of making a last effort, mounted his horse, and, with about a hundred armed followers, collected without previous preparation, hastened to the piazza of the palace, and endeavored to assemble adherents by cries of “people,” and “liberty;” but the former, having been rendered deaf by the fortune and liberty of the Medici, the latter was unknown in Florence, and he found no followers. The signors, who held the upper part of the palace, saluted him with stones and threats. Jacopo, while hesitating, was met by Giovanni Seristori, his brother-in-law, who upbraided him with the troubles he had occasioned, and then advised him to go home, for the people and liberty were as dear to other citizens as to himself. Thus deprived of every hope, Lorenzo being alive, Francesco seriously wounded, and none disposed to follow him, not knowing what to do, he resolved, if possible, to escape by flight; and, accompanied by those whom he had led into the piazza, left Florence with the intention of going into Romagna.

In the meantime the whole city was roused to arms, and Lorenzo de’ Medici, accompanied by a numerous escort, returned to his house. The palace was recovered from its assailants, all of whom were either slain or made prisoners. The name of the Medici echoed everywhere, and portions of dead bodies were seen borne on spears and scattered through the streets; while everyone was transported with rage against the Pazzi, and pursued them with relentless cruelty. The people took possession of their houses, and Francesco, naked as they found him, was led to the palace, and hanged beside the archbishop and the rest. He could not be induced, by any injurious words or deeds, to utter a syllable, but regarding those around with a steady look, he silently sighed. Guglielmo de’ Pazzi, brother-in-law to Lorenzo, fled to the latter’s house, and by his innocence and the intercession of his wife, Bianca, he escaped death. There was not a citizen of any rank whatever who did not, upon this occasion, wait upon Lorenzo with an offer of his services; so great were the popularity and good fortune which this family had acquired by their liberality and prudence. Rinato de’ Pazzi was at his villa when the event took place, and on being informed of it, he endeavored to escape in disguise, but was arrested upon the road and brought to Florence. Jacopo de’ Pazzi was taken while crossing the mountains of Romagna, for the inhabitants of these parts having heard what had occurred, and seeing him in flight, attacked and brought him back to the city; nor could he, though he frequently endeavored, prevail with them to put him to death upon the road. Jacopo and Rinato were condemned within four days after the murder of Giuliano. And though so many deaths had been inflicted that the roads were covered with fragments of human bodies, not one excited a feeling of regret, except that of Rinato; for he was considered a wise and good man, and possessed none of the pride for which the rest of his family were notorious. As if to mark the event by some extraordinary circumstance, Jacopo de’ Pazzi, after having been buried in the tomb of his ancestors, was disinterred like an excommunicated person, and thrown into a hole at the outside of the city walls; from this grave he was taken, and with the halter in which he had been hanged, his body was dragged naked through the city, and, as if unfit for sepulture on earth, thrown by the populace into the Arno, whose waters were then very high. It was an awful instance of the instability of fortune, to see so wealthy a man, possessing the utmost earthly felicity, brought down to such a depth of misery, such utter ruin and extreme degradation. It is said he had vices, among which were gaming and profane swearing, to which he was very much addicted; but these seem more than balanced by his numerous charities, for he relieved many in distress, and bestowed much money for pious uses. It may also be recorded in his favor, that upon the Saturday preceding the death of Giuliano, in order that none might suffer from his misfortunes, he discharged all his debts; and whatever property he possessed belonging to others, either in his own house or his place of business, he was particularly careful to return to its owners. Giovanni Batista da Montesecco, after a long examination, was beheaded; Napoleone Franzesi escaped punishment by flight; Giulielmo de’ Pazzi was banished, and such of his cousins as remained alive were imprisoned in the fortress of Volterra. The disturbances being over, and the conspirators punished, the funeral obsequies of Giuliano were performed amid universal lamentation; for he possessed all the liberality and humanity that could be wished for in one of his high station. He left a natural son, born some months after his death, named Giulio, who was endowed with that virtue and felicity with which the whole world is now acquainted; and of which we shall speak at length when we come to our own times, if God spare us. The people who had assembled in favor of the Pazzi under Lorenzo da Castello in the Val di Tavere, and under Giovan Francesco da Tolentino in Romagna, approached Florence, but having heard of the failure of the conspiracy, they returned home.

The changes desired by the pope and the king in the government of Florence, not having taken place, they determined to effect by war what they had failed to accomplish by treachery; and both assembled forces with all speed to attack the Florentine states; publicly declaring that they only wished the citizens to remove Lorenzo de’ Medici, who alone of all the Florentines was their enemy. The king’s forces had already passed the Tronto, and the pope’s were in Perugia; and that the citizens might feel the effect of spiritual as well as temporal weapons, the pontiff excommunicated and anathematized them. Finding themselves attacked by so many armies, the Florentines prepared for their defense with the utmost care. Lorenzo de’ Medici, as the enemy’s operations were said to be directed against himself alone, resolved first of all to assemble the Signory, and the most influential citizens, in the palace, to whom, being above three hundred in number, he spoke as follows:— “Most excellent signors, and you, magnificent citizens, I know not whether I have more occasion to weep with you for the events which have recently occurred, or to rejoice in the circumstances with which they have been attended. Certainly, when I think with what virulence of united deceit and hatred I have been attacked, and my brother murdered, I cannot but mourn and grieve from my heart, from my very soul. Yet when I consider with what promptitude, anxiety, love, and unanimity of the whole city my brother has been avenged and myself defended, I am not only compelled to rejoice, but feel myself honored and exalted; for if experience has shown me that I had more enemies than I apprehended, it has also proved that I possess more warm and resolute friends than I could ever have hoped for. I must therefore grieve with you for the injuries others have suffered, and rejoice in the attachment you have exhibited toward myself; but I feel more aggrieved by the injuries committed, since they are so unusual, so unexampled, and (as I trust you believe) so undeserved on our part. Think, magnificent citizens, to what a dreadful point ill fortune has reduced our family, when among friends, amidst our own relatives, nay, in God’s holy temple, we have found our greatest foes. Those who are in danger turn to their friends for assistance; they call upon their relatives for aid; but we found ours armed, and resolved on our destruction. Those who are persecuted, either from public or private motives, flee for refuge to the altars; but where others are safe, we are assassinated; where parricides and assassins are secure, the Medici find their murderers. But God, who has not hitherto abandoned our house, again saved us, and has undertaken the defense of our just cause. What injury have we done to justify so intense desire of our destruction? Certainly those who have shown themselves so much our enemies, never received any private wrong from us; for, had we wished to injure them, they would not have had an opportunity of injuring us. If they attribute public grievances to ourselves (supposing any had been done to them), they do the greater injustices to you, to this palace, to the majesty of this government, by assuming that on our account you would act unfairly to any of your citizens; and such a supposition, as we all know, is contradicted by every view of the circumstances; for we, had we been able, and you, had we wished it, would never have contributed to so abominable a design. Whoever inquires into the truth of these matters, will find that our family has always been exalted by you, and from this sole cause, that we have endeavored by kindness, liberality, and beneficence, to do good to all; and if we have honored strangers, when did we ever injure our relatives? If our enemies’ conduct has been adopted, to gratify their desire for power (as would seem to be the case from their having taken possession of the palace and brought an armed force into the piazza), the infamous, ambitious, and detestable motive is at once disclosed. If they were actuated by envy and hatred of our authority, they offend you rather than us; for from you we have derived all the influence we possess. Certainly usurped power deserves to be detested; but not distinctions conceded for acts of kindness, generosity, and magnificence. And you all know that our family never attained any rank to which this palace and your united consent did not raise it. Cosmo, my grandfather, did not return from exile with arms and violence, but by your unanimous desire and approbation. It was not my father, old and inform, who defended the government against so many enemies, but yourselves by your authority and benevolence defended him; neither could I, after his death, being then a boy, have maintained the position of my house except by your favor and advice. Nor should we ever be able to conduct the affairs of this republic, if you did not contribute to our support. Therefore, I know not the reason of their hatred toward us, or what just cause they have of envy. Let them direct their enmity against their own ancestors, who, by their pride and avarice, lost the reputation which ours, by very opposite conduct, were enabled to acquire. But let it be granted we have greatly injured them, and that they are justified in seeking our ruin; why do they come and take possession of the palace? Why enter into league with the pope and the king, against the liberties of this republic? Why break the long-continued peace of Italy? They have no excuse for this; they ought to confine their vengeance to those who do them wrong, and not confound private animosities with public grievances. Hence it is that since their defeat our misfortune is the greater; for on their account the pope and the king make war upon us, and this war, they say, is directed against my family and myself. And would to God that this were true; then the remedy would be sure and unfailing, for I would not be so base a citizen as to prefer my own safety to yours; I would at once resolve to ensure your security, even though my own destruction were the immediate and inevitable consequence. But as the wrongs committed by princes are usually concealed under some less offensive covering, they have adopted this plea to hide their more abominable purpose. If, however, you think otherwise, I am in your hands; it is with you to do with me what you please. You are my fathers, my protectors, and whatever you command me to do I will perform most willingly; nor will I ever refuse, when you find occasion to require it, to close the war with my own blood which was commenced with that of my brother.” While Lorenzo spoke, the citizens were unable to refrain from tears, and the sympathy with which he had been heard was extended to their reply, delivered by one of them in the name of the rest, who said that the city acknowledged many advantages derived from the good qualities of himself and his family; and encouraged them to hope that with as much promptitude as they had used in his defense, and in avenging his brother’s death, they would secure to him his influence in the government, which he should never lose while they retained possession of the country. And that their deeds might correspond with their words, they immediately appointed a number of armed men, as a guard for the security of his person against domestic enemies.

CHAPTER III

The Florentines prepare for war against the pope — They appeal to a future council — Papal and Neapolitan movements against the Florentines — The Venetians refuse to assist the Florentines — Disturbances in Milan — Genoa revolts from the duke — Futile endeavors to effect peace with the pope — The Florentines repulse their enemies from the territory of Pisa — They attack the papal states — The papal forces routed upon the borders of the Lake of Perugia.

The Florentines now prepared for war, by raising money and collecting as large a force as possible. Being in league with the duke of Milan and the Venetians, they applied to both for assistance. As the pope had proved himself a wolf rather than a shepherd, to avoid being devoured under false accusations, they justified their cause with all available arguments, and filled Italy with accounts of the treachery practiced against their government, exposing the impiety and injustice of the pontiff, and assured the world that the pontificate which he had wickedly attained, he would as impiously fill; for he had sent those whom he had advanced to the highest order of prelacy, in the company of traitors and parricides, to commit the most horrid treachery in the church in the midst of divine service and during the celebration of the holy sacrament, and that then, having failed to murder the citizens, change the government, and plunder the city, according to his intention, he had suspended the performance of all religious offices, and injuriously menaced and injured the republic with pontifical maledictions. But if God was just, and violence was offensive to him, he would be displeased with that of his viceregent, and allow his injured people who were not admitted to communion with the latter, to offer up their prayers to himself. The Florentines, therefore, instead of receiving or obeying the interdict, compelled the priests to perform divine service, assembled a council in Florence of all the Tuscan prelates under their jurisdiction, and appealed against the injuries suffered from the pontiff to a future general council.

The pope did not neglect to assign reasons in his own justification, and maintained it was the duty of a pontiff to suppress tyranny, depress the wicked, and exalt the good; and that this ought to be done by every available means; but that secular princes had no right to detain cardinals, hang bishops, murder, mangle, and drag about the bodies of priests, destroying without distinction the innocent with the guilty.

Notwithstanding these complaints and accusations, the Florentines restored to the pope the cardinal whom they had detained, in return for which he immediately assailed them with his own forces and those of the king. The two armies, under the command of Alfonso, eldest son of Ferrando, and duke of Calabria, who had as his general, Federigo, count of Urbino, entered the Chianti, by permission of the Siennese, who sided with the enemy, occupied Radda with many other fortresses, and having plundered the country, besieged the Castellina. The Florentines were greatly alarmed at these attacks, being almost destitute of forces, and finding their friends slow to assist; for though the duke sent them aid, the Venetians denied all obligation to support the Florentines in their private quarrels, since the animosities of individuals were not to be defended at the public expense. The Florentines, in order to induce the Venetians to take a more correct view of the case, sent Tommaso Soderini as their ambassador to the senate, and, in the meantime, engaged forces, and appointed Ercole, marquis of Ferrara, to the command of their army. While these preparations were being made, the Castellina was so hard pressed by the enemy, that the inhabitants, despairing of relief, surrendered, after having sustained a siege of forty-two days. The enemy then directed their course toward Arezzo, and encamped before San Savino. The Florentine army being now in order, went to meet them, and having approached within three miles, caused such annoyance, that Federigo d’Urbino demanded a truce for a few days, which was granted, but proved so disadvantageous to the Florentines, that those who had made the request were astonished at having obtained it; for, had it been refused, they would have been compelled to retire in disgrace. Having gained these few days to recruit themselves, as soon as they were expired, they took the castle in the presence of their enemies. Winter being now come, the forces of the pope and king retired for convenient quarters to the Siennese territory. The Florentines also withdrew to a more commodious situation, and the marquis of Ferrara, having done little for himself and less for others, returned to his own territories.

At this time, Genoa withdrew from the dominion of Milan, under the following circumstances. Galeazzo, at his death, left a son, Giovan Galeazzo, who being too young to undertake the government, dissensions arose between Sforza, Lodovico, Ottaviano, and Ascanio, his uncles, and the lady Bona, his mother, each of whom desired the guardianship of the young duke. By the advice and mediation of Tommaso Soderini, who was then Florentine ambassador at the court of Milan, and of Cecco Simonetta, who had been secretary to Galeazzo, the lady Bona prevailed. The uncles fled, Ottaviano was drowned in crossing the Adda; the rest were banished to various places, together with Roberto da San Severino, who in these disputes had deserted the duchess and joined the uncles of the duke. The troubles in Tuscany, which immediately followed, gave these princes hope that the new state of things would present opportunities for their advantage; they therefore quitted the places to which their exile limited them, and each endeavored to return home. King Ferrando, finding the Florentines had obtained assistance from none but the Milanese, took occasion to give the duchess so much occupation in her own government, as to render her unable to contribute to their assistance. By means of Prospero Adorno, the Signor Roberto, and the rebellious uncles of the duke, he caused Genoa to throw off the Milanese yoke. The Castelletto was the only place left; confiding in which, the duchess sent a strong force to recover the city, but it was routed by the enemy; and perceiving the danger which might arise to her son and herself if the war were continued, Tuscany being in confusion, and the Florentines, in whom alone she had hope, themselves in trouble, she determined, as she could not retain Genoa in subjection, to secure it as an ally; and agreed with Battistino Fregoso, the enemy of Prospero Adorno, to give him the Castelletto, and make him prince of Genoa, on condition that he should expel Prospero, and do nothing in favor of her son’s uncles. Upon this agreement, Battistino, by the assistance of the Castelletto and of his friends, became lord of Genoa; and according to the custom of the city, took the title of Doge. The Sforzeschi and the Signor Roberto, being thus expelled by the Genoese, came with their forces into Lunigiana, and the pope and the king, perceiving the troubles of Lombardy to be composed, took occasion with them to annoy Tuscany in the Pisan territory, that the Florentines might be weakened by dividing their forces. At the close of winter they ordered Roberto da San Severino to leave Lunigiana and march thither, which he did, and with great tumult plundered many fortresses, and overran the country around Pisa.

At this time, ambassadors came to Florence from the emperor, the king of France, and the king of Hungary, who were sent by their princes to the pontiff. They solicited the Florentines also to send ambassadors to the pope, and promised to use their utmost exertion to obtain for them an advantageous peace. The Florentines did not refuse to make trial, both for the sake of publicly justifying their proceedings, and because they were really desirous of peace. Accordingly, the ambassadors were sent, but returned without coming to any conclusion of their differences. The Florentines, to avail themselves of the influence of the king of France, since they were attacked by one part of the Italians and abandoned by the other, sent to him as their ambassador, Donato Acciajuoli, a distinguished Latin and Greek scholar, whose ancestors had always ranked high in the city, but while on his journey he died at Milan. To relieve his surviving family and pay a deserved tribute to his memory, he was honorably buried at the public expense, provision was made for his sons, and suitable marriage portions given to his daughters, and Guid’ Antonio Vespucci, a man well acquainted with pontifical and imperial affairs, was sent as ambassador to the king in his stead.

The attack of Signor Roberto upon the Pisan territory, being unexpected, greatly perplexed the Florentines; for having to resist the foe in the direction of Sienna, they knew not how to provide for the places about Pisa. To keep the Lucchese faithful, and prevent them from furnishing the enemy either with money or provisions, they sent as ambassador Piero di Gino Capponi, who was received with so much jealousy, on account of the hatred which that city always cherishes against the Florentines from former injuries and constant fear, that he was on many occasions in danger of being put to death by the mob; and thus his mission gave fresh cause of animosity rather than of union. The Florentines recalled the marquis of Ferrara, and engaged the marquis of Mantua; they also as earnestly requested the Venetians to send them Count Carlo, son of Braccio, and Deifobo, son of Count Jacopo, and after many delays, they complied; for having made a truce with the Turks, they had no excuse to justify a refusal, and could not break through the obligation of the League without the utmost disgrace. The counts, Carlo and Deifobo, came with a good force, and being joined by all that could be spared from the army, which, under the marquis of Ferrara, held in check the duke of Calabria, proceeded toward Pisa, to meet Signor Roberto, who was with his troops near the river Serchio, and who, though he had expressed his intention of awaiting their arrival, withdrew to the camp at Lunigiana, which he had quitted upon coming into the Pisan territory, while Count Carlo recovered all the places that had been taken by the enemy in that district.

The Florentines, being thus relieved from the attack in the direction of Pisa, assembled the whole force between Colle and Santo Geminiano. But the army, on the arrival of Count Carlo, being composed of Sforzeschi and Bracceschi, their hereditary feuds soon broke forth, and it was thought that if they remained long in company, they would turn their arms against each other. It was therefore determined, as the smaller evil, to divide them; to send one party, under Count Carlo, into the district of Perugia, and establish the other at Poggibonzi, where they formed a strong encampment in order to prevent the enemy from penetrating the Florentine territory. By this they also hoped to compel the enemy to divide their forces; for Count Carlo was understood to have many partisans in Perugia, and it was therefore expected, either that he would occupy the place, or that the pope would be compelled to send a large body of men for its defense. To reduce the pontiff to greater necessity, they ordered Niccolo Vitelli, who had been expelled from Citta di Castello, where his enemy Lorenzo Vitelli commanded, to lead a force against that place, with the view of driving out his adversary and withdrawing it from obedience to the pope. At the beginning of the campaign, fortune seemed to favor the Florentines; for Count Carlo made rapid advances in the Perugino, and Niccolo Vitelli, though unable to enter Castello, was superior in the field, and plundered the surrounding country without opposition. The forces also, at Poggibonzi, constantly overran the country up to the walls of Sienna. These hopes, however, were not realized; for in the first place, Count Carlo died, while in the fullest tide of success; though the consequences of this would have been less detrimental to the Florentines, had not the victory to which it gave occasion, been nullified by the misconduct of others. The death of the count being known, the forces of the church, which had already assembled in Perugia, conceived hopes of overcoming the Florentines, and encamped upon the lake, within three miles of the enemy. On the other side, Jacopo Guicciardini, commissary to the army, by the advice of Roberto da Rimino, who, after the death of Count Carlo, was the principal commander, knowing the ground of their sanguine expectations, determined to meet them, and coming to an engagement near the lake, upon the site of the memorable rout of the Romans, by Hannibal, the Carthaginian general, the papal forces were vanquished. The news of the victory, which did great honor to the commanders, diffused universal joy at Florence, and would have ensured a favorable termination of the campaign, had not the disorders which arose in the army at Poggibonzi thrown all into confusion; for the advantage obtained by the valor of the one, was more than counterbalanced by the disgraceful proceedings of the other. Having made considerable booty in the Siennese territory, quarrels arose about the division of it between the marquis of Mantua and the marquis of Ferrara, who, coming to arms, assailed each other with the utmost fury; and the Florentines seeing they could no longer avail themselves of the services of both, allowed the marquis of Ferrara and his men to return home.

CHAPTER IV

The duke of Calabria routs the Florentine army at Poggibonzi — Dismay in Florence on account of the defeat — Progress of the duke of Calabria — The Florentines wish for peace — Lorenzo de’ Medici determines to go to Naples to treat with the king — Lodovico Sforza, surnamed the Moor, and his brothers, recalled to Milan — Changes in the government of that city in consequence — The Genoese take Serezana — Lorenzo de’ Medici arrives at Naples — Peace concluded with the king — The pope and the Venetians consent to the peace — The Florentines in fear of the duke of Calabria — Enterprises of the Turks — They take Otranto — The Florentines reconciled with the pope — Their ambassadors at the papal court — The pope’s reply to the ambassadors — The king of Naples restores to the Florentines all the fortresses he had taken.

The army being thus reduced, without a leader, and disorder prevailing in every department, the duke of Calabria, who was with his forces near Sienna, resolved to attack them immediately. The Florentines, finding the enemy at hand, were seized with a sudden panic; neither their arms, nor their numbers, in which they were superior to their adversaries, nor their position, which was one of great strength, could give them confidence; but observing the dust occasioned by the enemy’s approach, without waiting for a sight of them, they fled in all directions, leaving their ammunition, carriages, and artillery to be taken by the foe. Such cowardice and disorder prevailed in the armies of those times, that the turning of a horse’s head or tail was sufficient to decide the fate of an expedition. This defeat loaded the king’s troops with booty, and filled the Florentines with dismay; for the city, besides the war, was afflicted with pestilence, which prevailed so extensively, that all who possessed villas fled to them to escape death. This occasioned the defeat to be attended with greater horror; for those citizens whose possessions lay in the Val di Pesa and the Val d’Elsa, having retired to them, hastened to Florence with all speed as soon as they heard of the disaster, taking with them not only their children and their property, but even their laborers; so that it seemed as if the enemy were expected every moment in the city. Those who were appointed to the management of the war, perceiving the universal consternation, commanded the victorious forces in the Perugino to give up their enterprise in that direction, and march to oppose the enemy in the Val d’Elsa, who, after their victory, plundered the country without opposition; and although the Florentine army had so closely pressed the city of Perugia that it was expected to fall into their hands every instant, the people preferred defending their own possessions to endeavoring to seize those of others. The troops, thus withdrawn from the pursuit of their good fortune, were marched to San Casciano, a castle within eight miles of Florence; the leaders thinking they could take up no other position till the relics of the routed army were assembled. On the other hand, the enemy being under no further restraint at Perugia, and emboldened by the departure of the Florentines, plundered to a large amount in the districts of Arezzo and Cortona; while those who under Alfonso, duke of Calabria, had been victorious near Poggibonzi, took the town itself; sacked Vico and Certaldo, and after these conquests and pillagings encamped before the fortress of Colle, which was considered very strong; and as the garrison was brave and faithful to the Florentines, it was hoped they would hold the enemy at bay till the republic was able to collect its forces. The Florentines being at Santo Casciano, and the enemy continuing to use their utmost exertions against Colle, they determined to draw nearer, that the inhabitants might be more resolute in their defense, and the enemy assail them less boldly. With this design they removed their camp from Santo Casciano to Santo Geminiano, about five miles from Colle, and with light cavalry and other suitable forces were able every day to annoy the duke’s camp. All this, however, was insufficient to relieve the people of Colle; for, having consumed their provisions, they were compelled to surrender on the thirteenth of November, to the great grief of the Florentines, and joy of the enemy, more especially of the Siennese, who, besides their habitual hatred of the Florentines, had a particular animosity against the people of Colle.

It was now the depth of winter, and the weather so unsuitable for war, that the pope and the king, either designing to hold out a hope of peace, or more quietly to enjoy the fruit of their victories, proposed a truce for three months to the Florentines, and allowed them ten days to consider the reply. The offer was eagerly accepted; but as wounds are well known to be more painful after the blood cools than when they were first received, this brief repose awakened the Florentines to a consciousness of the miseries they had endured; and the citizens openly laid the blame upon each other, pointing out the errors committed in the management of the war, the expenses uselessly incurred, and the taxes unjustly imposed. These matters were boldly discussed, not only in private circles, but in the public councils; and one individual even ventured to turn to Lorenzo de’ Medici, and say, “The city is exhausted, and can endure no more war; it is therefore necessary to think of peace.” Lorenzo was himself aware of the necessity, and assembled the friends in whose wisdom and fidelity he had the greatest confidence, when it was at once concluded, that as the Venetians were lukewarm and unfaithful, and the duke in the power of his guardians, and involved in domestic difficulties, it would be desirable by some new alliance to give a better turn to their affairs. They were in doubt whether to apply to the king or to the pope; but having examined the question in all sides, they preferred the friendship of the king as more suitable and secure; for the short reigns of the pontiffs, the changes ensuing upon each succession, the disregard shown by their church toward temporal princes, and the still greater want of respect for them exhibited in her determinations, render it impossible for a secular prince to trust a pontiff, or safely to share his fortune; for an adherent of the pope will have a companion in victory, but in defeat must stand alone, while the pontiff is sustained by his spiritual power and influence. Having therefore decided that the king’s friendship would be of the greatest utility to them, they thought it would be most easily and certainly obtained by Lorenzo’s presence; for in proportion to the confidence they evinced toward him, the greater they imagined would be the probability of removing his impressions of past enmities. Lorenzo having resolved to go to Naples, recommended the city and government to the care of Tommaso Soderini, who was at that time Gonfalonier of Justice. He left Florence at the beginning of December, and having arrived at Pisa, wrote to the government to acquaint them with the cause of his departure. The Signory, to do him honor, and enable him the more effectually to treat with the king, appointed him ambassador from the Florentine people, and endowed him with full authority to make such arrangements as he thought most useful for the republic.

At this time Roberto da San Severino, with Lodovico and Ascanio (Sforza their elder brother being dead) again attacked Milan, in order to recover the government. Having taken Tortona, and the city and the whole state being in arms, the duchess Bona was advised to restore the Sforzeschi, and to put a stop to civil contentions by admitting them to the government. The person who gave this advice was Antonio Tassino, of Ferrara, a man of low origin, who, coming to Milan, fell into the hands of the duke Galeazzo, and was given by him to his duchess for her valet. He, either from his personal attractions, or some secret influence, after the duke’s death attained such influence over the duchess, that he governed the state almost at his will. This greatly displeased the minister Cecco, whom prudence and long experience had rendered invaluable; and who, to the utmost of his power, endeavored to diminish the authority of Tassino with the duchess and other members of the government. The latter, aware of this, to avenge himself for the injury, and secure defenders against Cecco, advised the duchess to recall the Sforzeschi, which she did, without communicating her design to the minister, who, when it was done, said to her, “You have taken a step which will deprive me of my life, and you of the government.” This shortly afterward took place; for Cecco was put to death by Lodovico, and Tassino, being expelled from the dukedom, the duchess was so enraged that she left Milan, and gave up the care of her son to Lodovico, who, becoming sole governor of the dukedom, caused, as will be hereafter seen, the ruin of Italy.

Lorenzo de’ Medici had set out for Naples, and the truce between the parties was in force, when, quite unexpectedly, Lodovico Fregoso, being in correspondence with some persons of Serezana, entered the place by stealth, took possession of it with an armed force, and imprisoned the Florentine governor. This greatly offended the Signory, for they thought the whole had been concerted with the connivance of King Ferrando. They complained to the duke of Calabria, who was with the army at Sienna, of a breach of the truce; and he endeavored to prove, by letters and embassies, that it had occurred without either his own or his father’s knowledge. The Florentines, however, found themselves in a very awkward predicament, being destitute of money, the head of the republic in the power of the king, themselves engaged in a long-standing war with the latter and the pope, in a new one with the Genoese, and entirely without friends; for they had no confidence in the Venetians, and on account of its changeable and unsettled state they were rather apprehensive of Milan. They had thus only one hope, and that depended upon Lorenzo’s success with the king.

Lorenzo arrived at Naples by sea, and was most honorably received, not only by Ferrando, but by the whole city, his coming having excited the greatest expectation; for it being generally understood that the war was undertaken for the sole purpose of effecting his destruction, the power of his enemies invested his name with additional lustre. Being admitted to the king’s presence, he spoke with so much propriety upon the affairs of Italy, the disposition of her princes and people, his hopes from peace, his fears of the results of war, that Ferrando was more astonished at the greatness of his mind, the promptitude of his genius, his gravity and wisdom, than he had previously been at his power. He consequently treated him with redoubled honor, and began to feel compelled rather to part with him as a friend, than detain him as an enemy. However, under various pretexts he kept Lorenzo from December till March, not only to gain the most perfect knowledge of his own views, but of those of his city; for he was not without enemies, who would have wished the king to detain and treat him in the same manner as Jacopo Piccinino; and, with the ostensible view of sympathizing for him, pointed out all that would, or rather that they wished should, result from such a course; at the same time opposing in the council every proposition at all likely to favor him. By such means as these the opinion gained ground, that if he were detained at Naples much longer, the government of Florence would be changed. This caused the king to postpone their separation more than he would have otherwise done, to see if any disturbance were likely to arise. But finding everything go quietly on, Ferrando allowed him to depart on the sixth of March, 1479, having, with every kind of attention and token of regard, endeavored to gain his affection, and formed with him a perpetual alliance for their mutual defense. Lorenzo returned to Florence, and upon presenting himself before the citizens, the impressions he had created in the popular mind surrounded him with a halo of majesty brighter than before. He was received with all the joy merited by his extraordinary qualities and recent services, in having exposed his own life to the most imminent peril, in order to restore peace to his country. Two days after his return, the treaty between the republic of Florence and the king, by which each party bound itself to defend the other’s territories, was published. The places taken from the Florentines during the war were to be taken up at the discretion of the king; the Pazzi confined in the tower of Volterra were to be set at liberty, and a certain sum of money, for a limited period, was to be paid to the duke of Calabria.

As soon as this peace was publicly known, the pope and the Venetians were transported with rage; the pope thought himself neglected by the king; the Venetians entertained similar ideas with regard to the Florentines, and complained that, having been companions in the war, they were not allowed to participate in the peace. Reports of this description being spread abroad, and received with entire credence at Florence, caused a general fear that the peace thus made would give rise to greater wars; and therefore the leading members of the government determined to confine the consideration of the most important affairs to a smaller number, and formed a council of seventy citizens, in whom the principal authority was invested. This new regulation calmed the minds of those desirous of change, by convincing them of the futility of their efforts. To establish their authority, they in the first place ratified the treaty of peace with the king, and sent as ambassadors to the pope Antonio Ridolfi and Piero Nasi. But, notwithstanding the peace, Alfonso, duke of Calabria, still remained at Sienna with his forces, pretending to be detained by discords among the citizens, which, he said, had risen so high, that while he resided outside the city they had compelled him to enter and assume the office of arbitrator between them. He took occasion to draw large sums of money from the wealthiest citizens by way of fines, imprisoned many, banished others, and put some to death; he thus became suspected, not only by the Siennese but by the Florentines, of a design to usurp the sovereignty of Sienna; nor was any remedy then available, for the republic had formed a new alliance with the king, and were at enmity with the pope and the Venetians. This suspicion was entertained not only by the great body of the Florentine people, who were subtle interpreters of appearances, but by the principal members of the government; and it was agreed, on all hands, that the city never was in so much danger of losing her liberty. But God, who in similar extremities has always been her preserver, caused an unhoped-for event to take place, which gave the pope, the king, and the Venetians other matters to think of than those in Tuscany.

The Turkish emperor, Mahomet II. had gone with a large army to the siege of Rhodes, and continued it for several months; but though his forces were numerous, and his courage indomitable, he found them more than equalled by those of the besieged, who resisted his attack with such obstinate valor, that he was at last compelled to retire in disgrace. Having left Rhodes, part of his army, under the Pasha Achmet, approached Velona, and, either from observing the facility of the enterprise, or in obedience to his sovereign’s commands, coasting along the Italian shores, he suddenly landed four thousand soldiers, and attacked the city of Otranto, which he easily took, plundered, and put all the inhabitants to the sword. He then fortified the city and port, and having assembled a large body of cavalry, pillaged the surrounding country. The king, learning this, and aware of the redoubtable character of his assailant, immediately sent messengers to all the surrounding powers, to request assistance against the common enemy, and ordered the immediate return of the duke of Calabria with the forces at Sienna.

This attack, however it might annoy the duke and the rest of Italy, occasioned the utmost joy at Florence and Sienna; the latter thinking it had recovered its liberty, and the former that she had escaped a storm which threatened her with destruction. These impressions, which were not unknown to the duke, increased the regret he felt at his departure from Sienna; and he accused fortune of having, by an unexpected and unaccountable accident, deprived him of the sovereignty of Tuscany. The same circumstance changed the disposition of the pope; for although he had previously refused to receive any ambassador from Florence, he was now so mollified as to be anxious to listen to any overtures of peace; and it was intimated to the Florentines, that if they would condescend to ask the pope’s pardon, they would be sure of obtaining it. Thinking it advisable to seize the opportunity, they sent twelve ambassadors to the pontiff, who, on their arrival, detained them under different pretexts before he would admit them to an audience. However, terms were at length settled, and what should be contributed by each in peace or war. The messengers were then admitted to the feet of the pontiff, who, with the utmost pomp, received them in the midst of his cardinals. They apologized for past occurrences; first showing they had been compelled by necessity, then blaming the malignity of others, or the rage of the populace, and their just indignation, and enlarging on the unfortunate condition of those who are compelled either to fight or die; saying, that since every extremity is endured in order to avoid death, they had suffered war, interdicts, and other inconveniences, brought upon them by recent events, that their republic might escape slavery, which is the death of free cities. However, if in their necessities they had committed any offense, they were desirous to make atonement, and trusted in his clemency, who, after the example of the blessed Redeemer, would receive them into his compassionate arms.

The pope’s reply was indignant and haughty. After reiterating all the offenses against the church during the late transactions, he said that, to comply with the precepts of God, he would grant the pardon they asked, but would have them understand, that it was their duty to obey; and that upon the next instance of their disobedience, they would inevitably forfeit, and that most deservedly, the liberty which they had just been upon the point of losing; for those merit freedom who exercise themselves in good works and avoid evil; that liberty, improperly used, injures itself and others; that to think little of God, and less of his church, is not the part of a free man, but a fool, and one disposed to evil rather than good, and to effect whose correction is the duty not only of princes but of every Christian; so that in respect of the recent events, they had only themselves to blame, who, by their evil deeds, had given rise to the war, and inflamed it by still worse actions, it having been terminated by the kindness of others rather than by any merit of their own. The formula of agreement and benediction was then read; and, in addition to what had already been considered and agreed upon between the parties, the pope said, that if the Florentines wished to enjoy the fruit of his forgiveness, they must maintain fifteen galleys, armed, and equipped, at their own expense, as long as the Turks should make war upon the kingdom of Naples. The ambassadors complained much of this burden in addition to the arrangement already made, but were unable to obtain any alleviation. However, after their return to Florence, the Signory sent, as ambassador to the pope, Guidantonio Vespucci, who had recently returned from France, and who by his prudence brought everything to an amicable conclusion, obtained many favors from the pontiff, which were considered as presages of a closer reconciliation.

Having settled their affairs with the pope, Sienna being free, themselves released from the fear of the king, by the departure of the duke of Calabria from Tuscany, and the war with the Turks still continuing, the Florentines pressed the king to restore their fortresses, which the duke of Calabria, upon quitting the country, had left in the hands of the Siennese. Ferrando, apprehensive that if he refused, they would withdraw from the alliance with him, and by new wars with the Siennese deprive him of the assistance he hoped to obtain from the pope and other Italian powers, consented that they should be given up, and by new favors endeavored to attach the Florentines to his interests. It is thus evident, that force and necessity, not deeds and obligations, induce princes to keep faith.

The castles being restored, and this new alliance established, Lorenzo de’ Medici recovered the reputation which first the war and then the peace, when the king’s designs were doubtful, had deprived him of; for at this period there was no lack of those who openly slandered him with having sold his country to save himself, and said, that in war they had lost their territories, and in peace their liberty. But the fortresses being recovered, an honorable treaty ratified with the king, and the city restored to her former influence, the spirit of public discourse entirely changed in Florence, a place greatly addicted to gossip, and in which actions are judged by the success attending them, rather than by the intelligence employed in their direction; therefore, the citizens praised Lorenzo extravagantly, declaring that by his prudence he had recovered in peace, what unfavorable circumstances had taken from them in war, and that by his discretion and judgment he had done more than the enemy with all the force of their arms.

CHAPTER V

New occasions of war in Italy — Differences between the marquis of Ferrara, and the Venetians — The king of Naples and the Florentines attack the papal states — The pope’s defensive arrangements — The Neapolitan army routed by the papal forces — Progress of the Venetians against the marquis of Ferrara — The pope makes peace, and enters into a league against the Venetians — Operations of the League against the Venetians — The Venetians routed at Bondeno — Their losses — Disunion among the League — Lodovico Sforza makes peace with the Venetians — Ratified by the other parties.

The invasion of the Turks had deferred the war which was about to break forth from the anger of the pope and the Venetians at the peace between the Florentines and the king. But as the beginning of that invasion was unexpected and beneficial, its conclusion was equally unlooked for and injurious; for Mahomet dying suddenly, dissensions arose among his sons, and the forces which were in Puglia being abandoned by their commander, surrendered Otranto to the king. The fears which restrained the pope and the Venetians being thus removed, everyone became apprehensive of new troubles. On the one hand, was the league of the pope and the Venetians, and with them the Genoese, Siennese, and other minor powers; on the other, the Florentines, the king, and the duke, with whom were the Bolognese and many princes. The Venetians wished to become lords of Ferrara, and thought they were justified by circumstances in making the attempt, and hoping for a favorable result. Their differences arose thus: the marquis of Ferrara affirmed he was under no obligation to take salt from the Venetians, or to admit their governor; the terms of convention between them declaring, that after seventy years, the city was to be free from both impositions. The Venetians replied, that so long as he held the Polesine, he was bound to receive their salt and their governor. The marquis refusing his consent, the Venetians considered themselves justified in taking arms, and that the present moment offered a suitable opportunity; for the pope was indignant against the Florentines and the king; and to attach the pope still further, the Count Girolamo, who was then at Venice, was received with all possible respect; first admitted to the privileges of a citizen, and then raised to the rank of a senator, the highest distinctions the Venetian senate can confer. To prepare for the war, they levied new taxes, and appointed to the command of the forces, Roberto da San Severino, who being offended with Lodovico, governor of Milan, fled to Tortona, whence, after occasioning some disturbances, he went to Genoa, and while there, was sent for by the Venetians, and placed at the head of their troops.

These circumstances becoming known to the opposite league, induced it also to provide for war. The duke of Milan appointed as his general, Federigo d’Urbino; the Florentines engaged Costanzo, lord of Pesaro; and to sound the disposition of the pope, and know whether the Venetians made war against Ferrara with his consent or not, King Ferrando sent Alfonso, duke of Calabria, with his army across the Tronto, and asked the pontiff’s permission to pass into Lombardy to assist the marquis, which was refused in the most peremptory manner. The Florentines and the king, no longer doubtful about the pope’s intentions, determined to harass him, and thus either compel him to take part with them, or throw such obstacles in his way, as would prevent him from helping the Venetians, who had already taken the field, attacked the marquis, overran his territory, and encamped before Figaruolo, a fortress of the greatest importance. In pursuance of the design of the Florentines and the king, the duke of Calabria, by the assistance of the Colonna family (the Orsini had joined the pope), plundered the country about Rome and committed great devastation; while the Florentines, with Niccolo Vitelli, besieged and took Citta di Castello, expelling Lorenzo Vitelli, who held it for the pope, and placing Niccolo in it as prince.

The pope now found himself in very great straits; for the city of Rome was disturbed by factions and the country covered with enemies. But acting with courage and resolution, he appointed Roberto da Rimino to take the command of his forces; and having sent for him to Rome, where his troops were assembled, told him how great would be the honor, if he could deliver the church from the king’s forces, and the troubles in which it was involved; how greatly indebted, not only himself, but all his successors would be, and, that not mankind merely, but God himself would be under obligations to him. The magnificent Roberto, having considered the forces and preparations already made, advised the pope to raise as numerous a body of infantry as possible, which was done without delay. The duke of Calabria was at hand, and constantly harassed the country up to the very gates of Rome, which so roused the indignation of the citizens, that many offered their assistance to Roberto, and all were thankfully received. The duke, hearing of these preparations, withdrew a short distance from the city, that in the belief of finding him gone, the magnificent Roberto would not pursue him, and also in expectation of his brother Federigo, whom their father had sent to him with additional forces. But Roberto, finding himself nearly equal to the duke in cavalry, and superior in infantry, marched boldly out of Rome and took a position within two miles of the enemy. The duke, seeing his adversaries close upon him, found he must either fight or disgracefully retire. To avoid a retreat unbecoming a king’s son, he resolved to face the enemy; and a battle ensued which continued from morning till midday. In this engagement, greater valor was exhibited on both sides than had been shown in any other during the last fifty years, upward of a thousand dead being left upon the field. The troops of the church were at length victorious, for her numerous infantry so annoyed the ducal cavalry, that they were compelled to retreat, and Alfonso himself would have fallen into the hands of the enemy, had he not been rescued by a body of Turks, who remained at Otranto, and were at that time in his service. The lord of Rimino, after this victory, returned triumphantly to Rome, but did not long enjoy the fruit of his valor; for having, during the heat of the engagement, taken a copious draught of water, he was seized with a flux, of which he very shortly afterward died. The pope caused his funeral to be conducted with great pomp, and in a few days, sent the Count Girolamo toward Citta di Castello to restore it to Lorenzo, and also endeavor to gain Rimino, which being by Roberto’s death left to the care of his widow and a son who was quite a boy, his holiness thought might be easily won; and this certainly would have been the case, if the lady had not been defended by the Florentines, who opposed him so effectually, as to prevent his success against both Castello and Rimino.

While these things were in progress at Rome and in Romagna, the Venetians took possession of Figaruolo and crossed the Po with their forces. The camp of the duke of Milan and the marquis was in disorder; for the count of Urbino having fallen ill, was carried to Bologna for his recovery, but died. Thus the marquis’s affairs were unfortunately situated, while those of the Venetians gave them increasing hopes of occupying Ferrara. The Florentines and the king of Naples used their utmost endeavors to gain the pope to their views; and not having succeeded by force, they threatened him with the council, which had already been summoned by the emperor to assemble at Basle; and by means of the imperial ambassadors, and the co-operation of the leading cardinals, who were desirous of peace, the pope was compelled to turn his attention toward effecting the pacification of Italy. With this view, at the instigation of his fears, and with the conviction that the aggrandizement of the Venetians would be the ruin of the church and of Italy, he endeavored to make peace with the League, and sent his nuncios to Naples, where a treaty was concluded for five years, between the pope, the king, the duke of Milan, and the Florentines, with an opening for the Venetians to join them if they thought proper. When this was accomplished, the pope intimated to the Venetians, that they must desist from war against Ferrara. They refused to comply, and made preparations to prosecute their design with greater vigor than they had hitherto done; and having routed the forces of the duke and the marquis at Argenta, they approached Ferrara so closely as to pitch their tents in the marquis’s park.

The League found they must no longer delay rendering him efficient assistance, and ordered the duke of Calabria to march to Ferrara with his forces and those of the pope, the Florentine troops also moving in the same direction. In order to direct the operations of the war with greater efficiency, the League assembled a diet at Cremona, which was attended by the pope’s legate, the Count Girolamo, the duke of Calabria, the Signor Lodovico Sforza, and Lorenzo de’ Medici, with many other Italian princes; and when the measures to be adopted were fully discussed, having decided that the best way of relieving Ferrara would be to effect a division of the enemy’s forces, the League desired Lodovico to attack the Venetians on the side of Milan, but this he declined, for fear of bringing a war upon the duke’s territories, which it would be difficult to quell. It was therefore resolved to proceed with the united forces of the League to Ferrara, and having assembled four thousand cavalry and eight thousand infantry, they went in pursuit of the Venetians, whose force amounted to two thousand two hundred men at arms, and six thousand foot. They first attacked the Venetian flotilla, then lying upon the river Po, which they routed with the loss of above two hundred vessels, and took prisoner Antonio Justiniano, the purveyor of the fleet. The Venetians, finding all Italy united against them, endeavored to support their reputation by engaging in their service the duke of Lorraine, who joined them with two hundred men at arms: and having suffered so great a destruction of their fleet, they sent him, with part of their army, to keep their enemies at bay, and Roberto da San Severino to cross the Adda with the remainder, and proceed to Milan, where they were to raise the cry of “The duke and the Lady Bona,” his mother; hoping by this means to give a new aspect to affairs there, believing that Lodovico and his government were generally unpopular. This attack at first created great consternation, and roused the citizens in arms; but eventually produced consequences unfavorable to the designs of the Venetians; for Lodovico was now desirous to undertake what he had refused to do at the entreaty of his allies. Leaving the marquis of Ferrara to the defense of his own territories, he, with four thousand horse and two thousand foot, and joined by the duke of Calabria with twelve thousand horse and five thousand foot, entered the territory of Bergamo, then Brescia, next that of Verona, and, in defiance of the Venetians, plundered the whole country; for it was with the greatest difficulty that Roberto and his forces could save the cities themselves. In the meantime, the marquis of Ferrara had recovered a great part of his territories; for the duke of Lorraine, by whom he was attacked, having only at his command two thousand horse and one thousand foot, could not withstand him. Hence, during the whole of 1483, the affairs of the League were prosperous.

The winter having passed quietly over, the armies again took the field. To produce the greater impression upon the enemy, the League united their whole force, and would easily have deprived the Venetians of all they possessed in Lombardy, if the war had been conducted in the same manner as during the preceding year; for by the departure of the duke of Lorraine, whose term of service had expired, they were reduced to six thousand horse and five thousand foot, while the allies had thirteen thousand horse and five thousand foot at their disposal. But, as is often the case where several of equal authority are joined in command, their want of unity decided the victory to their enemies. Federigo, marquis of Mantua, whose influence kept the duke of Calabria and Lodovico Sforza within bounds, being dead, differences arose between them which soon became jealousies. Giovan Galeazzo, duke of Milan, was now of an age to take the government on himself, and had married the daughter of the duke of Calabria, who wished his son-in-law to exercise the government and not Lodovico; the latter, being aware of the duke’s design, studied to prevent him from effecting it. The position of Lodovico being known to the Venetians, they thought they could make it available for their own interests; and hoped, as they had often before done, to recover in peace all they had lost by war; and having secretly entered into treaty with Lodovico, the terms were concluded in August, 1484. When this became known to the rest of the allies, they were greatly dissatisfied, principally because they found that the places won from the Venetians were to be restored; that they were allowed to keep Rovigo and the Polesine, which they had taken from the marquis of Ferrara, and besides this retain all the pre-eminence and authority over Ferrara itself which they had formerly possessed. Thus it was evident to everyone, they had been engaged in a war which had cost vast sums of money, during the progress of which they had acquired honor, and which was concluded with disgrace; for the places wrested from the enemy were restored without themselves recovering those they had lost. They were, however, compelled to ratify the treaty, on account of the unsatisfactory state of their finances, and because the faults and ambition of others had rendered them unwilling to put their fortunes to further proof.

CHAPTER VI

Affairs of the pope — He is reconciled to Niccolo Vitelli — Discords between the Colonnesi and the Orsini — Various events — The war of Serezana — Genoa occupied by her archbishop — Death of Sixtus IV. — Innocent VIII. elected — Agostino Fregoso gives Serezana to the bank of St. Giorgio — Account of the bank of St. Giorgio — War with the Genoese for Serezana — Stratagem of the Florentines to attack Pietra Santa — Difficulties and final surrender of Pietra Santa — The Lucchese lay claim to Pietra Santa — The city of L’Aquila revolts against the king of Naples — War between him and the pope — The Florentines take the king’s party — Peace between the pope and the king.

During these events in Lombardy, the pope sent Lorenzo to invest Citta di Castello, for the purpose of expelling Niccolo Vitelli, the place having been abandoned to him by the League, for the purpose of inducing the pontiff to join them. During the siege, Niccolo’s troops were led out against the papal forces and routed them. Upon this the pope recalled the Count Girolamo from Lombardy with orders first to recruit his army at Rome, and then proceed against Citta di Castello. But thinking afterward, that it would be better to obtain Niccolo Vitello as his friend than to renew hostilities with him, an arrangement was entered into by which the latter retained Citta di Castello, and the pope pacified Lorenzo as well as he could. He was induced to both these measures rather by his apprehension of fresh troubles than by his love of peace, for he perceived dissensions arising between the Colonessi and the Orsini.

In the war between the king of Naples and the pope, the former had taken the district of Tagliacozzo from the Orsini, and given it to the Colonnesi, who had espoused his cause. Upon the establishment of peace, the Orsini demanded its restoration by virtue of the treaty. The pope had frequently intimated to the Colonnesi that it ought to be restored; but they, instead of complying with the entreaties of the Orsini, or being influenced by the pope’s threats, renewed hostilities against the former. Upon this the pontiff, unable to endure their insolence, united his own forces with those of the Orsini, plundered the houses they possessed in Rome, slew or made prisoners all who defended them, and seized most of their fortresses. So that when these troubles were composed, it was rather by the complete subjugation of one party than from any desire for peace in the other.

Nor were the affairs of Genoa or of Tuscany in repose, for the Florentines kept the Count Antonio da Marciano on the borders of Serezana; and while the war continued in Lombardy, annoyed the people of Serezana by inroads and light skirmishes. Battistino Fregoso, doge of Genoa, trusting to Pagolo Fregoso, the archbishop, was taken prisoner, with his wife and children, by the latter, who assumed the sovereignty of the city. The Venetian fleet had attacked the kingdom of Naples, taken Gallipoli, and harassed the neighboring places. But upon the peace of Lombardy, all tumults were hushed except those of Tuscany and Rome; for the pope died in five days after its declaration, either in the natural course of things, or because his grief for peace, to which he was always opposed, occasioned his end.

Upon the decease of the pontiff, Rome was immediately in arms. The Count Girolamo withdrew his forces into the castle; and the Orsini feared the Colonnesi would avenge the injuries they had recently sustained. The Colonnesi demanded the restitution of their houses and castles, so that in a few days robberies, fires, and murders prevailed in several parts of the city. The cardinals entreated the count to give the castle into the hands of the college, withdraw his troops, and deliver Rome from the fear of his forces, and he, by way of ingratiating himself with the future pontiff obeyed, and retired to Imola. The cardinals, being thus divested of their fears, and the barons hopeless of assistance in their quarrels, proceeded to create a new pontiff, and after some discussion, Giovanni Batista Cibo, a Genoese, cardinal of Malfetta, was elected, and took the name of Innocent VIII. By the mildness of his disposition (for he was peaceable and humane) he caused a cessation of hostilities, and for the present restored peace to Rome.

The Florentines, after the pacification of Lombardy, could not remain quiet; for it appeared disgraceful that a private gentleman should deprive them of the fortress of Serezana; and as it was allowed by the conditions of peace, not only to demand lost places, but to make war upon any who should impede their restoration, they immediately provided men and money to undertake its recovery. Upon this, Agostino Fregoso, who had seized Serezana, being unable to defend it, gave the fortress to the Bank of St. Giorgio. As we shall have frequent occasion to speak of St. Giorgio and the Genoese, it will not be improper, since Genoa is one of the principal cities of Italy, to give some account of the regulations and usages prevailing there. When the Genoese had made peace with the Venetians, after the great war, many years ago, the republic, being unable to satisfy the claims of those who had advanced large sums of money for its use, conceded to them the revenue of the Dogano or customhouse, so that each creditor should participate in the receipts in proportion to his claim, until the whole amount should be liquidated, and as a suitable place for their assembling, the palace over the Dogano was assigned for their use. These creditors established a form of government among themselves, appointing a council of one hundred persons for the direction of their affairs, and a committee of eight, who, as the executive body, should carry into effect the determinations of the council. Their credits were divided into shares, called Luoghi, and they took the title of the Bank, or Company of St. Giorgio. Having thus arranged their government, the city fell into fresh difficulties, and applied to San Giorgio for assistance, which, being wealthy and well managed, was able to afford the required aid. On the other hand, as the city had at first conceded the customs, she next began to assign towns, castles, or territories, as security for moneys received; and this practice has proceeded to such a length, from the necessities of the state, and the accommodation by the San Giorgio, that the latter now has under its administration most of the towns and cities in the Genoese dominion. These the Bank governs and protects, and every year sends its deputies, appointed by vote, without any interference on the part of the republic. Hence the affections of the citizens are transferred from the government to the San Giorgio, on account of the tyranny of the former, and the excellent regulations adopted by the latter. Hence also originate the frequent changes of the republic, which is sometimes under a citizen, and at other times governed by a stranger; for the magistracy, and not the San Giorgio, changes the government. So when the Fregosi and the Adorni were in opposition, as the government of the republic was the prize for which they strove, the greater part of the citizens withdrew and left it to the victor. The only interference of the Bank of St. Giorgio is when one party has obtained a superiority over the other, to bind the victor to the observance of its laws, which up to this time have not been changed; for as it possesses arms, money, and influence, they could not be altered without incurring the imminent risk of a dangerous rebellion. This establishment presents an instance of what in all the republics, either described or imagined by philosophers, has never been thought of; exhibiting within the same community, and among the same citizens, liberty and tyranny, integrity and corruption, justice and injustice; for this establishment preserves in the city many ancient and venerable customs; and should it happen (as in time it easily may) that the San Giorgio should have possession of the whole city, the republic will become more distinguished than that of Venice.

Agostino Fregoso conceded Serezana to the San Giorgio, which readily accepted it, undertook its defense, put a fleet to sea, and sent forces to Pietra Santa to prevent all attempts of the Florentines, whose camp was in the immediate vicinity. The Florentines found it would be essentially necessary to gain possession of Pietra Santa, for without it the acquisition of Serezana lost much of its value, being situated between the latter place and Pisa; but they could not, consistently with the treaty, besiege it, unless the people of Pietra Santa, or its garrison, were to impede their acquisition of Serezana. To induce the enemy to do this, the Florentines sent from Pisa to the camp a quantity of provisions and military stores, accompanied by a very weak escort; that the people of Pietra Santa might have little cause for fear, and by the richness of the booty be tempted to the attack. The plan succeeded according to their expectation; for the inhabitants of Pietra Santa, attracted by the rich prize took possession of it.

This gave legitimate occasion to the Florentines to undertake operations against them; so leaving Serezana they encamped before Pietra Santa, which was very populous, and made a gallant defense. The Florentines planted their artillery in the plain, and formed a rampart upon the hill, that they might also attack the place on that side. Jacopo Guicciardini was commissary of the army; and while the siege of Pietra Santa was going on, the Genoese took and burned the fortress of Vada, and, landing their forces, plundered the surrounding country. Biongianni Gianfigliazzi was sent against them, with a body of horse and foot, and checked their audacity, so that they pursued their depredations less boldly. The fleet continuing its efforts went to Livorno, and by pontoons and other means approached the new tower, playing their artillery upon it for several days, but being unable to make any impression they withdrew.

In the meantime the Florentines proceeded slowly against Pietra Santa, and the enemy taking courage attacked and took their works upon the hill. This was effected with so much glory, and struck such a panic into the Florentines, that they were almost ready to raise the siege, and actually retreated a distance of four miles; for their generals thought that they would retire to winter quarters, it being now October, and make no further attempt till the return of spring.

When the discomfiture was known at Florence, the government was filled with indignation; and, to impart fresh vigor to the enterprise, and restore the reputation of their forces, they immediately appointed Antonio Pucci and Bernardo del Neri commissaries, who, with vast sums of money, proceeded to the army, and intimated the heavy displeasure of the Signory, and of the whole city, if they did not return to the walls; and what a disgrace, if so large an army and so many generals, having only a small garrison to contend with, could not conquer so poor and weak a place. They explained the immediate and future advantages that would result from the acquisition, and spoke so forcibly upon the subject, that all became anxious to renew the attack. They resolved, in the first place, to recover the rampart upon the hill; and here it was evident how greatly humanity, affability, and condescension influence the minds of soldiers; for Antonio Pucci, by encouraging one and promising another, shaking hands with this man and embracing that, induced them to proceed to the charge with such impetuosity, that they gained possession of the rampart in an instant. However, the victory was not unattended by misfortune, for Count Antonio da Marciano was killed by a cannon shot. This success filled the townspeople with so much terror, that they began to make proposals for capitulation; and to invest the surrender with imposing solemnity, Lorenzo de’ Medici came to the camp, when, after a few days, the fortress was given up. It being now winter, the leaders of the expedition thought it unadvisable to make any further effort until the return of spring, more particularly because the autumnal air had been so unhealthy that numbers were affected by it. Antonio Pucci and Biongianni Gianfigliazzi were taken ill and died, to the great regret of all, so greatly had Antonio’s conduct at Pietra Santa endeared him to the army.

Upon the taking of Pietra Santa, the Lucchese sent ambassadors to Florence, to demand its surrender to their republic, on account of its having previously belonged to them, and because, as they alleged, it was in the conditions that places taken by either party were to be restored to their original possessors. The Florentines did not deny the articles, but replied that they did not know whether, by the treaty between themselves and the Genoese, which was then under discussion, it would have to be given up or not, and therefore could not reply to that point at present; but in case of its restitution, it would first be necessary for the Lucchese to reimburse them for the expenses they had incurred and the injury they had suffered, in the death of so many citizens; and that when this was satisfactorily arranged, they might entertain hopes of obtaining the place.

The whole winter was consumed in negotiations between the Florentines and Genoese, which, by the pope’s intervention, were carried on at Rome; but not being concluded upon the return of spring, the Florentines would have attacked Serezana had they not been prevented by the illness of Lorenzo de’ Medici, and the war between the pope and King Ferrando; for Lorenzo was afflicted not only by the gout, which seemed hereditary in his family, but also by violent pains in the stomach, and was compelled to go the baths for relief.

The more important reason was furnished by the war, of which this was the origin. The city of L’Aquila, though subject to the kingdom of Naples, was in a manner free; and the Count di Montorio possessed great influence over it. The duke of Calabria was upon the banks of the Tronto with his men-at-arms, under pretense of appeasing some disturbances among the peasantry; but really with a design of reducing L’Aquila entirely under the king’s authority, and sent for the Count di Montorio, as if to consult him upon the business he pretended then to have in hand. The count obeyed without the least suspicion, and on his arrival was made prisoner by the duke and sent to Naples. When this circumstance became known at L’Aquila, the anger of the inhabitants arose to the highest pitch; taking arms they killed Antonio Cencinello, commissary for the king, and with him some inhabitants known partisans of his majesty. The L’Aquilani, in order to have a defender in their rebellion, raised the banner of the church, and sent envoys to the pope, to submit their city and themselves to him, beseeching that he would defend them as his own subjects against the tyranny of the king. The pontiff gladly undertook their defense, for he had both public and private reasons for hating that monarch; and Signor Roberto of San Severino, an enemy of the duke of Milan, being disengaged, was appointed to take the command of his forces, and sent for with all speed to Rome. He entreated the friends and relatives of the Count di Montorio to withdraw their allegiance from the king, and induced the princes of Altimura, Salerno, and Bisignano to take arms against him. The king, finding himself so suddenly involved in war, had recourse to the Florentines and the duke of Milan for assistance. The Florentines hesitated with regard to their own conduct, for they felt all the inconvenience of neglecting their own affairs to attend to those of others, and hostilities against the church seemed likely to involve much risk. However, being under the obligation of a League, they preferred their honor to convenience or security, engaged the Orsini, and sent all their own forces under the Count di Pitigliano toward Rome, to the assistance of the king. The latter divided his forces into two parts; one, under the duke of Calabria, he sent toward Rome, which, being joined by the Florentines, opposed the army of the church; with the other, under his own command, he attacked the barons, and the war was prosecuted with various success on both sides. At length, the king, being universally victorious, peace was concluded by the intervention of the ambassadors of the king of Spain, in August, 1486, to which the pope consented; for having found fortune opposed to him he was not disposed to tempt it further. In this treaty all the powers of Italy were united, except the Genoese, who were omitted as rebels against the republic of Milan, and unjust occupiers of territories belonging to the Florentines. Upon the peace being ratified, Roberto da San Severino, having been during the war a treacherous ally of the church, and by no means formidable to her enemies, left Rome; being followed by the forces of the duke and the Florentines, after passing Cesena, found them near him, and urging his flight reached Ravenna with less than a hundred horse. Of his forces, part were received into the duke’s service, and part were plundered by the peasantry. The king, being reconciled with his barons, put to death Jacopo Coppola and Antonello d’Aversa and their sons, for having, during the war, betrayed his secrets to the pope.

CHAPTER VII

The pope becomes attached to the Florentines — The Genoese seize Serezanello — They are routed by the Florentines — Serezana surrenders — Genoa submits to the duke of Milan — War between the Venetians and the Dutch — Osimo revolts from the church — Count Girolamo Riario, lord of Furli, slain by a conspiracy — Galeotto, lord of Faenza, is murdered by the treachery of his wife — The government of the city offered to the Florentines — Disturbances in Sienna — Death of Lorenzo de’ Medici — His eulogy — Establishment of his family — Estates bought by Lorenzo — His anxiety for the defense of Florence — His taste for arts and literature — The university of Pisa — The estimation of Lorenzo by other princes.

The pope having observed in the course of the war, how promptly and earnestly the Florentines adhered to their alliances, although he had previously been opposed to them from his attachment to the Genoese, and the assistance they had rendered to the king, now evinced a more amicable disposition, and received their ambassadors with greater favor than previously. Lorenzo de’ Medici, being made acquainted with this change of feeling, encouraged it with the utmost solicitude; for he thought it would be of great advantage, if to the friendship of the king he could add that of the pontiff. The pope had a son named Francesco, upon whom designing to bestow states and attach friends who might be useful to him after his own death, saw no safer connection in Italy than Lorenzo’s, and therefore induced the latter to give him one of his daughters in marriage. Having formed this alliance, the pope desired the Genoese to concede Serezana to the Florentines, insisting that they had no right to detain what Agostino had sold, nor was Agostino justified in making over to the Bank of San Giorgio what was not his own. However, his holiness did not succeed with them; for the Genoese, during these transactions at Rome, armed several vessels, and, unknown to the Florentines, landed three thousand foot, attacked Serezanello, situated above Serezana, plundered and burnt the town near it, and then, directing their artillery against the fortress, fired upon it with their utmost energy. This assault was new and unexpected by the Florentines, who immediately assembled their forces under Virginio Orsino, at Pisa, and complained to the pope, that while he was endeavoring to establish peace, the Genoese had renewed their attack upon them. They then sent Piero Corsini to Lucca, that by his presence he might keep the city faithful; and Pagolantonio Soderini to Venice, to learn how that republic was disposed. They demanded assistance of the king and of Signor Lodovico, but obtained it from neither; for the king expressed apprehensions of the Turkish fleet, and Lodovico made excuses, but sent no aid. Thus the Florentines in their own wars are almost always obliged to stand alone, and find no friends to assist them with the same readiness they practice toward others. Nor did they, on this desertion of their allies (it being nothing new to them) give way to despondency; for having assembled a large army under Jacopo Guicciardini and Pietro Vettori, they sent it against the enemy, who had encamped upon the river Magra, at the same time pressing Serezanello with mines and every species of attack. The commissaries being resolved to relieve the place, an engagement ensued, when the Genoese were routed, and Lodovico dal Fiesco, with several other principal men, made prisoners. The Serezanesi were not so depressed at their defeat as to be willing to surrender, but obstinately prepared for their defense, while the Florentine commissaries proceeded with their operations, and instances of valor occurred on both sides. The siege being protracted by a variety of fortune, Lorenzo de’ Medici resolved to go to the camp, and on his arrival the troops acquired fresh courage, while that of the enemy seemed to fail; for perceiving the obstinacy of the Florentines’ attack, and the delay of the Genoese in coming to their relief, they surrendered to Lorenzo, without asking conditions, and none were treated with severity except two or three who were leaders of the rebellion. During the siege, Lodovico had sent troops to Pontremoli, as if with an intention of assisting the Florentines; but having secret correspondence in Genoa, a party was raised there, who, by the aid of these forces, gave the city to the duke of Milan.

At this time the Dutch made war upon the Venetians, and Boccolino of Osimo, in the Marca, caused that place to revolt from the pope, and assumed the sovereignty. After a variety of fortune, he was induced to restore the city to the pontiff and come to Florence, where, under the protection of Lorenzo de’ Medici, by whose advice he had been prevailed upon to submit, he lived long and respected. He afterward went to Milan, but did not experience such generous treatment; for Lodovico caused him to be put to death. The Venetians were routed by the Dutch, near the city of Trento, and Roberto da S. Severino, their captain, was slain. After this defeat, the Venetians, with their usual good fortune, made peace with the Dutch, not as vanquished, but as conquerors, so honorable were the terms they obtained.

About this time, there arose serious troubles in Romagna. Francesco d’Orso, of Furli, was a man of great authority in that city, and became suspected by the count Girolamo, who often threatened him. He consequently, living under great apprehensions, was advised by his friends to provide for his own safety, by the immediate adoption of such a course as would relieve him from all further fear of the count. Having considered the matter and resolved to attempt it, they fixed upon the market day, at Furli, as most suitable for their purpose; for many of their friends being sure to come from the country, they might make use of their services without having to bring them expressly for the occasion. It was the month of May, when most Italians take supper by daylight. The conspirators thought the most convenient hour would be after the count had finished his repast; for his household being then at their meal, he would remain in the chamber almost alone. Having fixed upon the hour, Francesco went to the count’s residence, left his companions in the hall, proceeded to his apartment, and desired an attendant to say he wished for an interview. He was admitted, and after a few words of pretended communication, slew him, and calling to his associates, killed the attendant. The governor of the place coming by accident to speak with the count, and entering the apartment with a few of his people, was also slain. After this slaughter, and in the midst of a great tumult, the count’s body was thrown from the window, and with the cry of “church and liberty,” they roused the people (who hated the avarice and cruelty of the count) to arms, and having plundered his house, made the Countess Caterina and her children prisoners. The fortress alone had to be taken to bring the enterprise to a successful issue; but the Castellan would not consent to its surrender. They begged the countess would desire him to comply with their wish, which she promised to do, if they would allow her to go into the fortress, leaving her children as security for the performance of her promise. The conspirators trusted her, and permitted her to enter; but as soon as she was within, she threatened them with death and every kind of torture in revenge for the murder of her husband; and upon their menacing her with the death of her children, she said she had the means of getting more. Finding they were not supported by the pope, and that Lodovico Sforza, uncle to the countess, had sent forces to her assistance, the conspirators became terrified, and taking with them whatever property they could carry off, they fled to Citta di Castello. The countess recovered the state, and avenged the death of her husband with the utmost cruelty. The Florentines hearing of the count’s death, took occasion to recover the fortress of Piancaldoli, of which he had formerly deprived them, and, on sending some forces, captured it; but Cecco, the famous engineer, lost his life during the siege.

To this disturbance in Romagna, another in that province, no less important, has to be added. Galeotto, lord of Faenza, had married the daughter of Giovanni Bentivogli, prince of Bologna. She, either through jealousy or ill treatment by her husband, or from the depravity of her own nature, hated him to such a degree, that she determined to deprive him of his possessions and his life; and pretending sickness, she took to her bed, where, having induced Galeotto to visit her, he was slain by assassins, whom she had concealed for that purpose in the apartment. She had acquainted her father with her design, and he hoped, on his son-in-law’s death, to become lord of Faenza. A great tumult arose as soon as the murder was known, the widow, with an infant son, fled into the fortress, the people took up arms, Giovanni Bentivogli, with a condottiere of the duke of Milan, named Bergamino, engaged for the occasion, entered Faenza with a considerable force, and Antonio Boscoli, the Florentine commissary, was also there. These leaders being together, and discoursing of the government of the place, the men of Val di Lamona, who had risen unanimously upon learning what had occurred, attacked Giovanni and Bergamino, the latter of whom they slew, made the former prisoner, and raising the cry of “Astorre and the Florentines,” offered the city to the commissary. These events being known at Florence, gave general offense; however, they set Giovanni and his daughter at liberty, and by the universal desire of the people, took the city and Astorre under their protection. Besides these, after the principal differences of the greater powers were composed, during several years tumults prevailed in Romagna, the Marca, and Sienna, which, as they are unimportant, it will be needless to recount. When the duke of Calabria, after the war of 1478, had left the country, the distractions of Sienna became more frequent, and after many changes, in which, first the plebeians, and then the nobility, were victorious, the latter and length maintained the superiority, and among them Pandolfo and Jacopo Petrucci obtained the greatest influence, so that the former being distinguished for prudence and the latter for resolution, they became almost princes in the city.

The Florentines after the war of Serezana, lived in great prosperity until 1492, when Lorenzo de’ Medici died; for he having put a stop to the internal wars of Italy, and by his wisdom and authority established peace, turned his thoughts to the advancement of his own and the city’s interests, and married Piero, his eldest son, to Alfonsina, daughter of the Cavaliere Orsino. He caused Giovanni, his second son, to be raised to the dignity of cardinal. This was the more remarkable from its being unprecedented; for he was only fourteen years of age when admitted to the college; and became the medium by which his family attained to the highest earthly glory. He was unable to make any particular provision for Guiliano, his third son, on account of his tender years, and the shortness of his own life. Of his daughters, one married Jacopo Salviati; another, Francesco Cibo; the third, Piero Ridolfi; and the fourth, whom, in order to keep his house united, he had married to Giovanni de’ Medici, died. In his commercial affairs he was very unfortunate, from the improper conduct of his agents, who in all their proceedings assumed the deportment of princes rather than of private persons; so that in many places, much of his property was wasted, and he had to be relieved by his country with large sums of money. To avoid similar inconvenience, he withdrew from mercantile pursuits, and invested his property in land and houses, as being less liable to vicissitude. In the districts of Prato, Pisa, and the Val di Pesa, he purchased extensively, and erected buildings, which for magnificence and utility, were quite of regal character. He next undertook the improvement of the city, and as many parts were unoccupied by buildings, he caused new streets to be erected in them, of great beauty, and thus enlarged the accommodation of the inhabitants. To enjoy his power in security and repose, and conquer or resist his enemies at a distance, in the direction of Bologna he fortified the castle of Firenzuola, situated in the midst of the Appennines; toward Sienna he commenced the restoration and fortification of the Poggio Imperiale; and he shut out the enemy in the direction of Genoa, by the acquisition of Pietra Santa and Serezana. For the greater safety of the city, he kept in pay the Baglioni, at Perugia, and the Vitelli, at Citta di Castello, and held the government of Faenza wholly in his own power; all which greatly contributed to the repose and prosperity of Florence. In peaceful times, he frequently entertained the people with feasts, and exhibitions of various events and triumphs of antiquity; his object being to keep the city abundantly supplied, the people united, and the nobility honored. He was a great admirer of excellence in the arts, and a patron of literary men, of which Agnolo da Montepulciano, Cristofero Landini, and Demetrius Chalcondylas, a Greek, may afford sufficient proofs. On this account, Count Giovanni della Mirandola, a man of almost supernatural genius, after visiting every court of Europe, induced by the munificence of Lorenzo, established his abode at Florence. He took great delight in architecture, music, and poetry, many of his comments and poetical compositions still remaining. To facilitate the study of literature to the youth of Florence, he opened a university at Pisa, which was conducted by the most distinguished men in Italy. For Mariano da Chinazano, a friar of the order of St. Augustine, and an excellent preacher, he built a monastery in the neighborhood of Florence. He enjoyed much favor both from fortune and from the Almighty; all his enterprises were brought to a prosperous termination, while his enemies were unfortunate; for, besides the conspiracy of the Pazzi, an attempt was made to murder him in the Carmine, by Batista Frescobaldi, and a similar one by Baldinetto da Pistoja, at his villa; but these persons, with their confederates, came to the end their crimes deserved. His skill, prudence, and fortune, were acknowledged with admiration, not only by the princes of Italy, but by those of distant countries; for Matthias, king of Hungary, gave him many proofs of his regard; the sultan sent ambassadors to him with valuable presents, and the Turkish emperor placed in his hands Bernardo Bandini, the murderer of his brother. These circumstances raised his fame throughout Italy, and his reputation for prudence constantly increased; for in council he was eloquent and acute, wise in determination, and prompt and resolute in execution. Nor can vices be alleged against him to sully so many virtues; though he was fond of women, pleased with the company of facetious and satirical men, and amused with the games of the nursery, more than seemed consistent with so great a character; for he was frequently seen playing with his children, and partaking of their infantine sports; so that whoever considers this gravity and cheerfulness, will find united in him dispositions which seem almost incompatible with each other. In his later years, he was greatly afflicted; besides the gout, he was troubled with excruciating pains in the stomach, of which he died in April, 1492, in the forty-fourth year of his age; nor was there ever in Florence, or even in Italy, one so celebrated for wisdom, or for whose loss such universal regret was felt. As from his death the greatest devastation would shortly ensue, the heavens gave many evident tokens of its approach; among other signs, the highest pinnacle of the church of Santa Reparata was struck with lightning, and great part of it thrown down, to the terror and amazement of everyone. The citizens and all the princes of Italy mourned for him, and sent their ambassadors to Florence, to condole with the city on the occasion; and the justness of their grief was shortly after apparent; for being deprived of his counsel, his survivors were unable either to satisfy or restrain the ambition of Lodovico Sforza, tutor to the duke of Milan; and hence, soon after the death of Lorenzo, those evil plants began to germinate, which in a little time ruined Italy, and continue to keep her in desolation.

DISCOURSES ON LIVY

Discourses on Livy is a work of political history and philosophy, written c. 1517 and published posthumously with papal privilege in 1531. The title identifies the work’s subject as the first ten books of Livy’s History of Rome (Ab urbe condita), relating the expansion of Rome from its mythical beginnings to the end of the Third Samnite War in 293 BC, though Machiavelli discusses what can be learned from many other eras including contemporary politics. He frequently regards Romans and other ancient peoples as superior models for his contemporaries, but he also describes political greatness as something that comes and goes in cycles. He treats history as a way to learn useful lessons from the past for the present and also as a type of analysis that can be built upon, as long as each generation does not forget the works and acts of the past.

The text comprises a dedication letter and three books, with 142 numbered chapters, matching the 142 books in Livy’s History of Rome. The first two books are introduced by unnumbered prefaces. Machiavelli explains that the first book will discuss things that happened inside of Rome as the result of public counsel (I 1.6); secondly it will concern decisions made by the Roman people pertaining to the increase of its Empire and lastly it will analyse how the actions of particular men made Rome great.

Machiavelli dedicates the work to two friends, Zanobi Buondelmonti and Cosimo Rucellai, both of whom appear in The Art of War. Rucellai had died in 1519, though this did not lead Machiavelli to find a new dedicatee, as he had with The Prince. Machiavelli justifies dedicating the Discourses of Livy to his two friends as they deserve to be princes, even if they lack principalities and he criticises the custom of dedicating works to men that are princes and yet do not deserve to be.

The preface to Book I explains why Machiavelli wrote Discourses on Livy. He notes that he brings new modes and orders, a dangerous task given the envy of men, but one motivated by the desire to work for the common benefit of everyone. He also notes that while his work may not be perfect, it deserves to be heard, as it will aid others after him in fulfilling his vision. He complains that the Italian Renaissance has stimulated a desire to imitate the ancients in art, law and medicine, but that no one thinks of imitating ancient kingdoms or republics. He traces this to an improper reading of history, suggesting that imitation of ancient political virtue is impossible. Machiavelli also declares his intention to overcome this view of the ancient world by examining Livy and modern politics.

Bust of Livy by Lorenzo Larese Moretti (1858-1867)

CONTENTS

HENRY NEVILLE TRANSLATION, 1695

NINIAN HILL THOMSON TRANSLATION, 1883

‘The Intervention of the Sabine Women’ by Jacques-Louis David, 1799 — a key scene in the opening book of Livy’s ‘History of Rome’

HENRY NEVILLE TRANSLATION, 1695

CONTENTS

NICCOLO MACHIAVELLI TO ZANOBI BUONDELMONTI AND TO COSIMO RUCELLAI

FIRST BOOK

PREFACE

CHAPTER I

CHAPTER II

CHAPTER III

CHAPTER IV

CHAPTER V

CHAPTER VI

CHAPTER VII

CHAPTER VIII

CHAPTER IX

CHAPTER X

CHAPTER XI

CHAPTER XII

CHAPTER XIII

CHAPTER XIV

CHAPTER XV

CHAPTER XVI

CHAPTER XVII

CHAPTER XVIII

CHAPTER XIX

CHAPTER XX

CHAPTER XXI

CHAPTER XXII

CHAPTER XXIII

CHAPTER XXIV

CHAPTER XXV

CHAPTER XXVI

CHAPTER XXVII

CHAPTER XXVIII

CHAPTER XXIX

CHAPTER XXX

CHAPTER XXXI

CHAPTER XXXII

CHAPTER XXXIII

CHAPTER XXXIV

CHAPTER XXXV

CHAPTER XXXVI

CHAPTER XXXVII

CHAPTER XXXVIII

CHAPTER XXXIX

CHAPTER XL

CHAPTER XLI

CHAPTER XLII

CHAPTER XLIII

CHAPTER XLIV

CHAPTER XLV

CHAPTER XLVI

CHAPTER XLVII

CHAPTER XLVIII

CHAPTER XLIX

CHAPTER L

CHAPTER LI

CHAPTER LII

CHAPTER LIII

CHAPTER LIV

CHAPTER LV

CHAPTER LVI

CHAPTER LVII

CHAPTER LVIII

CHAPTER LIX

CHAPTER LX

SECOND BOOK

PREFACE

CHAPTER I

CHAPTER II

CHAPTER III

CHAPTER IV

CHAPTER V

CHAPTER VI

CHAPTER VII

CHAPTER VIII

CHAPTER IX

CHAPTER X

CHAPTER XI

CHAPTER XII

CHAPTER XIII

CHAPTER XIV

CHAPTER XV

CHAPTER XVI

CHAPTER XVII

CHAPTER XVIII

CHAPTER XIX

CHAPTER XX

CHAPTER XXI

CHAPTER XXII

CHAPTER XXIII

CHAPTER XXIV

CHAPTER XXV

CHAPTER XXVI

CHAPTER XXVII

CHAPTER XXVIII

CHAPTER XXIX

CHAPTER XXX

CHAPTER XXXI

CHAPTER XXXII

CHAPTER XXXIII

THIRD BOOK

CHAPTER I

CHAPTER II

CHAPTER III

CHAPTER IV

CHAPTER V

CHAPTER VI

CHAPTER VII

CHAPTER VIII

CHAPTER IX

CHAPTER X

CHAPTER XI

CHAPTER XII

CHAPTER XIII

CHAPTER XIV

CHAPTER XV

CHAPTER XVI

CHAPTER XVII

CHAPTER XVIII

CHAPTER XIX

CHAPTER XX

CHAPTER XXI

CHAPTER XXII

CHAPTER XXIII

CHAPTER XXIV

CHAPTER XXV

CHAPTER XXVI

CHAPTER XVII

CHAPTER XXVIII

CHAPTER XXIX

CHAPTER XXX

CHAPTER XXXI

CHAPTER XXXII

CHAPTER XXXIII

CHAPTER XXXIV

CHAPTER XXXV

CHAPTER XXXVI

CHAPTER XXXVII

CHAPTER XXXVIII

CHAPTER XXXIX

CHAPTER XL

CHAPTER XLI

CHAPTER XLII

CHAPTER XLIII

CHAPTER XLIV

CHAPTER XLV

CHAPTER XLVI

CHAPTER XLVII

CHAPTER XLVIII

CHAPTER XLIX

NICCOLO MACHIAVELLI TO ZANOBI BUONDELMONTI AND TO COSIMO RUCELLAI

GREETINGS.

I send you a present which if it is not equal to the obligations that I have toward you, it is one which without doubt the best that Niccolo Machiavelli has been able to offer you. Because in it I have expressed what I know and what I have learned through a long experience and a continuing study of the things of the world. And neither you nor others being able to desire more of me, I have not offered you more. You may well complain of the poverty of my endeavor since these narrations of mine are poor, and of the fallacy of (my) judgement when I deceive myself in many parts of my discussion. Which being so, I do not know which of us should be less obligated to the other, either I to you who have forced me to write that which by myself I would not have written, or you to me that having written I have not satisfied you. Accept this, therefore, in that manner that all things are taken from friends, where always the intention of the sender is more than the quality of the thing that is sent. And believe me I obtain satisfaction from this when I think that even if I should have been deceived on many occasions, I know I have not erred on this one in having selected you, to whom above all other of my friends I address (dedicate) these Discourses; as much because in doing this it appears to me I have shown some gratitude for the benefits I have received, as well because it appears to me I have departed from the common usage of those writers, who usually (always) address (dedicate) their works to some Prince, and blinded by ambition and avarice laud him for all his virtuous qualities when they should be censuring him for all his shameful parts. Whence I, so as not to incur this error, have selected, not those who are Princes, but those who by their infinite good qualities would merit to be such; (and) not to those who could load me with rank, honors, and riches, but to those who although unable to would want to do so. For men, when they want to judge rightly, should esteem those who are generous, not those who are able to be so; and likewise those who govern a Kingdom, not those who can but have not the knowledge. And writers lauded more Hiero of Syracuse when he was a private citizen than Perseus the Macedonian when he was King, for to Hiero nothing was lacking to be a Prince than the Principality, and the other did not possess any part of the King than the Kingdom. Enjoy this, therefore, whether good or bad, that you yourselves have wanted; and if you should continue in this error that these thoughts of mine are acceptable, I shall not fail to continue the rest of the history according as I promised you in the beginning. Farewell.

FIRST BOOK

PREFACE

When I consider how much honor is attributed to antiquity, and how many times, not to mention many other examples, a fragment of an antique statue has been bought at a great price in order to have it near to one, honoring his house, being able to have it imitated by those who delight in those arts, and how they then strive with all industry to present them in all their work: and when I see, on the other hand, the works of greatest virtu which Historians indicate have been accomplished by ancient Kingdoms and Republics, by Kings, Captains, Citizens, Lawgivers, and others who have worked themselves hard for their country, to be more readily admired than imitated, or rather so much neglected by everyone in every respect that no sign of that ancient virtu remains, I cannot otherwise than wonder and at the same time be sad: and so much more when I see in the civil differences that arise between Citizens, or in the maladies which men incur, they always have recourses to those judgments or to those remedies that have been judged or instituted by the ancients. For the civil laws are nothing else but the decisions given by the ancient Jurisconsults, which reduced to a system presently teach our Jurisconsults to judge and also what is medicine if not the experience had by the ancient Doctors, (and) on which the present Doctors base their judgments? None the less in the instituting of Republics, in maintaining of States, in the governing of Kingdoms, in organizing an army and conducting a war, in (giving) judgment for Subjects, in expanding the Empire, there will not be found either Prince, or Republic, or Captain, or Citizen, who has recourse to the examples of the ancients. Which I am persuaded arises not so much from the weakness to which the present education has brought the world, or from that evil which an ambitious indolence has created in many Christian Provinces and Cities, than from not having a real understanding of history, and from not drawing that (real) sense from its reading, or benefiting from the spirit which is contained in it. whence it arises that they who read take infinitely more pleasure in knowing the variety of incidents that are contained in them, without ever thinking of imitating them, believing the imitation not only difficult, but impossible: as if heaven, the sun, the elements, and men should have changed the order of their motions and power, from what they were anciently. Wanting, therefore, to draw men from this error, I have judged it necessary to write upon all those books of Titus Livy which, because of the malignity of the times, have been prevented (from coming to us), in order that I might judge by comparing ancient and modern events what is necessary for their better understanding, so that those who may read these Discourses of mine may be able to derive that usefulness for which the understanding of History ought to be sought. And although this enterprise may be difficult, none the less, aided by those who have advised me to begin carrying this load, I believe I can carry it so that there will remain for others a short way to bring it to its destined place (end).

CHAPTER I

WHAT HAVE GENERALLY BEEN THE BEGINNINGS OF SOME CITIES, AND WHAT WAS THAT OF ROME

Those who read what the beginning of the City of Rome was, and of her Law-givers and how it was organized, do not wonder that so much virtu had been maintained for so many centuries in that City, and that afterward there should have been born that Empire to which that Republic was joined. And wanting first to discuss its birth, I say that all Cities are built either by men born in the place where they build it or by foreigners. The first case occurs when it appears to the inhabitants that they do not live securely when dispersed into many and small parties, each unable by himself both because of the location and the small number to resist attacks of those who should assault them, and they are not in time ((the enemy coming)) in waiting for their defense: or if they should be, they must abandon many of their refuges, and thus they would quickly become the prey of their enemies: so much that in order to avoid these dangers, moved either by themselves or by some one among them of greater authority, they restrict themselves to live together in a place selected by them, more convenient to live in and more easy to defend. Of these, among others, have been Athens and Venice: the first under the authority of Theseus was built by the dispersed inhabitants for like reasons: the other built by many people (who) had come to certain small islands situated at the head of the Adriatic Sea, in order to escape those wars which every day were arising in Italy because of the coming of new barbarians after the decline of that Roman Empire, began among themselves, without any particular Prince who should organize them, to live under those laws which appeared to them best suited in maintaining it (their new state). In this they succeeded happily because of the long peace which the site gave to them (for) that sea not having issue, where those people who were afflicting Italy, not having ships with which they could invest them; so that from a small beginning they were enabled to come to that greatness which they now have.

The second case, when a city is built by foreign forces, is caused by free men and by men who depend on others, such as the Colonies sent either by a Republic or by a Prince to relieve their towns of (excessive) inhabitants or for the defense of that country which they have newly acquired (and) want to maintain securely and without expense; (thy Roman people built many cities, throughout all their Empire) or they are built by a Prince, not to live there but for his own glory, as was the City of Alexandria built by Alexander. And because these cities at their origin do not have their freedom, it rarely happens that they make great progress and are able to be numbered among the chief Kingdoms. Such was the building of Florence, for (it was built either by the soldiers of Sulla, or perhaps by the inhabitants of the Mountains of Fiesole, who trusting in that long peace which prevailed in the world under Octavian were led to live in the plain along the Arno) it was built under the Roman Empire, and could not in its beginning have any other growth that those which were conceded to her through the courtesy of the Prince.

The builders of Cities are free when any people either under a Prince or by themselves are constrained either by pestilence or by famine or by war to abandon their native country, and seek new homes: These either inhabit the cities that they find in the countries they acquire, as Moses did, or they build new ones, as Eneas did. This is a case where the virtu and fortune of the builder of the edifice is recognized, which is of greater or less wonder according as that man who was the beginner was of greater or less virtu. The virtu of whom is recognized in two ways: the first is in the selection of the site, the other in the establishment of the laws. And because men work either from necessity or from choice: and because it is seen here that virtu is greater where choice has less authority (results from necessity), it is (something) to be considered whether it would be better for the building of a city to select sterile places, so that men constrained to be industrious and less occupied with idleness, should live more united, where, because of the poverty of the site, they should have less cause for discord, as happened at Ragusa and in many other cities built in similar places; which selection would without doubt be more wise and more useful if men would be content to live of their own (possessions), and not want to seek to command that of others.

However, as men are not able to make themselves secure except through power, it is necessary to avoid this sterility of country and locate it in very fertile places, where because of the fertility of the site, it can grow, can defend itself from whoever should assault it, and suppress whoever should oppose its aggrandizement. And as to that idleness which the site should encourage, it ought to be arranged that in that necessity the laws should constrain them (to work) where the site does not constrain them (does not do so), and to imitate those who have been wise and have lived in most amenable and most fertile countries, which are apt to making men idle and unable to exercise any virtu: that to obviate those which the amenity of the country may cause through idleness, they imposed the necessity of exercise on those who were to be soldiers: of a kind that, because of such orders, they became better soldiers than (men) in those countries where nature has been harsh and sterile: among which was the Kingdom of Egypt, which notwithstanding that the country was most amenable, that necessity ordained by the laws was so great, that most excellent men resulted therefrom: and if their names had not been extinguished by antiquity, it would be seen that they would have merited more praise than Alexander the Great, and many others of whom memory is still fresh. And whoever had considered the Kingdom of Soldan and the order of the Mamelukes, and of their military (organization) before it was destroyed by Selim the Grand Turk, would have seen there how much the soldiers exercised, and in fact would have known how much they feared that idleness to which the benignity of the country could lead them if they had not obviated it by the strongest laws. I say therefore that the selection of a fertile location in establishing (a city) is more prudent when (the results) of that fertility can be restricted within given limits by laws.

Alexander the Great, wishing to build a city for his glory, Dinocrates, the Architect came to him and showed him how he could do so upon the mountain Athos, which place in addition to being strong, could be arranged in a way that the City would be given human form, which would be a marvelous and rare thing and worthy of his greatness: and Alexander asking him on what the inhabitants would live, he replied that he had not thought of it: at which he laughed, and leaving that mountain as it was, he built Alexandria, where the inhabitants would stay willingly because of the richness of the country and the convenience to the sea and of the Nile.

Whoever should examine, therefore, the building of Rome if he should take Eneas for its first ancestor, will know that that City was built by foreigners: (but) if Romulus, it would have been built by men native to the place, and in any case it would be seen to have been free from the beginning without depending on anyone: it will also be seen (as it will be said below) to what necessity the laws made by Romulus, Numa, and the others had constrained them; so much so that the fertility of the site, the convenience of the sea, the frequent victories, the greatness of the Empire, could not corrupt her for many centuries, and they maintained her full of so much virtu than any other republic has ever been adorned. And because the things achieved by them and that are made notable by Titus Livius, have taken place either through public Councils or private (individuals) either inside or outside the City, I shall begin to discourse upon those things which occured inside; and as for the public Council, which is worthy of greater annotation, I shall judge, adding all that is dependent on them; with which discourses this fast book, or rather this fast part will be ended.

CHAPTER II

OF THE KINDS OF REPUBLICS THERE ARE, AND OF WHICH WAS THE ROMAN REPUBLIC

I want to place aside the discussion of those cities that had their beginning subject to others, and I will talk of those which have had their beginning far removed from any external servitude, but which (were) initially governed themselves through their own will, either as Republics or as Principalities; which have had (as diverse origins) diverse laws and institutions. For to some, at the beginning or very soon after, their laws were given to them by one (man) and all at one time, as those which were given to the Spartans by Lycurgus: Some have received them by chance, and at several times, according to events, as Rome did. So that a Republic can be called fortunate which by chance has a man so prudent, who gives her laws so ordered that without having need of correcting them, she can live securely under them. And it is seen that Sparta observed hers (laws) for more than eight hundred years without changing them and without any dangerous disturbance: and on the contrary that City has some degree of unhappiness which (not having fallen to a prudent lawmaker) is compelled to reorganize her laws by herself. And she also is more unhappy which has diverged more from her institutions; and that (Republic) is even further from them whose laws lead her away from perfect and true ends entirely outside of the right path; for to those who are in that condition it is almost impossible that by some incident they be set aright. Those others which do not have a perfect constitution, but had made a good beginning, are capable of becoming better, and can become perfect through the occurrence of events. It is very true, however, that they have never been reformed without danger, for the greater number of men never agree to a new law which contemplates a new order for the City, unless the necessity that needs be accomplished is shown to them: and as this necessity cannot arise without some peril, it is an easy thing for the Republic to be ruined before it can be brought to a more perfect constitution. The Republic of Florence gives a proof of this, which because of the incident of Arezzo in (the year) one thousand five hundred and two (1502) was reorganized, (and) it was disorganized by that of Prato in (the year) one thousand five hundred and twelve (1512).

Wanting therefore to discourse on what were the institutions of the City of Rome and what events brought her to her perfection, I say, that some who have written of Republics say there are (one of) three States (governments) in them called by them Principality (Monarchy), of the Best (Aristocracy), and Popular (Democracy), and that those men who institute (laws) in a City ought to turn to one of these, according as it seems fit to them. Some others (and wiser according to the opinion of many) believe there are six kinds of Governments, of which those are very bad, and those are good in themselves, but may be so easily corrupted that they also become pernicious. Those that are good are three mentioned above: those that are bad, are three others which derive from those (first three), and each is so similar to them that they easily jump from one to the other, for the Principality easily becomes a tyranny, autocracy easily become State of the Few (oligarchies), and the Popular (Democracy) without difficulty is converted into a licentious one (anarchy). So much so that an organizer of a Republic institutes one of those three States (governments) in a City, he institutes it for only a short time, because there is no remedy which can prevent them from degenerating into their opposite kind, because of the resemblance that virtu and vice have in this instance.

These variations in government among men are born by chance, for at the beginning of the world the inhabitants were few, (and) lived for a time dispersed and like beasts: later as the generations multiplied they gathered together, and in order to be able better to defend themselves they began to seek among themselves the one who was most robust and of greater courage, and made him their head and obeyed him. From this there arose the knowledge of honest and good things; differentiating them from the pernicious and evil; for seeing one man harm his benefactor there arose hate and compassion between men, censuring the ingrates and honoring those who were grateful, and believing also that these same injuries could be done to them, to avoid like evils they were led to make laws, and institute punishments for those who should contravene them; whence came the cognition of justice. Which thing later caused them to select a Prince, not seeking the most stalwart but he who was more prudent and more just. But afterwards when they began to make the Prince by succession and not by election, the heirs quickly degenerated from their fathers, and leaving off from works of virtu they believed that Princes should have nothing else to do than surpass others in sumptuousness and lasciviousness and in every other kind of delight. So that the Prince began to be hated, and because of this hate he began to fear, and passing therefore from fear to injury, a tyranny quickly arose. From this there arose the beginnings of the ruin and conspiracies; and these conspiracies against the Prince were not made by weak and timid men, but by those who because of their generosity, greatness of spirit, riches, and nobility above the others, could not endure the dishonest life of that prince.

The multitude therefore following the authority of these powerful ones armed itself against the Prince, and having destroyed him, they obeyed them as their liberators. And these holding the name of chief in hatred, constituted a government by themselves, and in the beginning (having in mind the past tyranny) governed themselves according to the laws instituted by them, preferring every common usefulness to their conveniences, and governed and preserved private and public affairs with the greatest diligence. This administration later was handed down to their children, who not knowing the changeability of fortune (for) never having experienced bad (fortune), and not wanting to remain content with civil equality, they turned to avarice, ambition, violation of women, caused that aristocratic government (of the Best) to become an oligarchic government (of the Few) regardless of all civil rights: so that in a short time the same thing happened to them as it did to the Tyrant, for the multitude disgusted with their government, placed itself under the orders of whoever would in any way plan to attack those Governors, and thus there arose some one who, with the aid of the multitude, destroyed them. And the memory of the Prince and the injuries received from him being yet fresh (and) having destroyed the oligarchic state (of the Few), and not wanting to restore that of the Prince, the (people) turned to the Popular state (Democracy) and they organized that in such a way, that neither the powerful Few nor a Prince should have any authority. And because all States in the beginning receive some reverence, this Popular State maintained itself for a short time, but not for long, especially when that generation that had organized it was extinguished, for they quickly came to that license where neither private men or public men were feared: this was such that every one living in his own way, a thousand injuries were inflicted every day: so that constrained by necessity either through the suggestion of some good man, or to escape from such license, they once again turn to a Principality; and from this step by step they return to that license both in the manner and for the causes mentioned (previously).

And this is the circle in which all the Republics are governed and will eventually be governed; but rarely do they return to the same (original) governments: for almost no Republic can have so long a life as to be able often to pass through these changes and remain on its feet. But it may well happen that in the troubles besetting a Republic always lacking counsel and strength, it will become subject to a neighboring state which may be better organized than itself: but assuming this does not happen, a Republic would be apt to revolve indefinitely among these governments. I say therefore that all the (previously) mentioned forms are inferior because of the brevity of the existence of those three that are good, and of the malignity of those three that are bad. So that those who make laws prudently having recognized the defects of each, (and) avoiding every one of these forms by itself alone, they selected one (form) that should partake of all, they judging it to be more firm and stable, because when there is in the same City (government) a Principality, an Aristocracy, and a Popular Government (Democracy), one watches the other.

Among those who have merited more praise for having similar constitutions is Lycurgus, who so established his laws in Sparta, that in giving parts to the King, the Aristocracy, and the People, made a state that endured more than eight hundred years, with great praise to himself and tranquillity to that City. The contrary happened to Solon who established the laws in Athens, (and) who by establishing only the Popular (Democratic) state, he gave it such a brief existence that before he died he saw arise the tyranny of Pisistratus: and although after forty years his (the tyrants) heirs were driven out and liberty returned to Athens, for the Popular state was restored according to the ordinances of Solon, it did not last more than a hundred years, yet in order that it be maintained many conventions were made by which the insolence of the nobles and the general licentiousness were suppressed, which had not been considered by Solon: none the less because he did not mix it (Popular state) with the power of the Principate and with that of the Aristocracy, Athens lived a very short time as compared to Sparta.

But let us come to Rome, which, notwithstanding that it did not have a Lycurgus who so established it in the beginning that she was not able to exist free for a long time, none the less so many were the incidents that arose in that City because of the disunion that existed between the Plebs and the Senate, so that what the legislator did not do, chance did. For, if Rome did not attain top fortune, it attained the second; if the first institutions were defective, none the less they did not deviate from the straight path which would lead them to perfection, for Romulus and all the other Kings made many and good laws, all conforming to a free existence. But because their objective was to found a Kingdom and not a Republic, when that City became free she lacked many things that were necessary to be established in favor of liberty, which had not been established by those Kings. And although those Kings lost their Empire for the reasons and in the manner discussed, none the less those who drove them out quickly instituted two Consuls who should be in the place of the King, (and) so it happened that while the name (of King) was driven from Rome, the royal power was not; so that the Consuls and the Senate existed in forms mentioned above, that is the Principate and the Aristocracy. There remained only to make a place for Popular government for the reasons to be mentioned below, the people rose against them: so that in order not to lose everything, (the Nobility) was constrained to concede a part of its power to them, and on the other hand the Senate and the Consuls remained with so much authority that they were able to keep their rank in that Republic. And thus was born (the creation) of the Tribunes of the plebs, after which creation the government of that Republic came to be more stable, having a part of all those forms of government. And so favorable was fortune to them that although they passed from a Monarchial government and from an Aristocracy to one of the People (Democracy), by those same degrees and for the same reasons that were discussed above, none the less the Royal form was never entirely taken away to give authority to the Aristocracy, nor was all the authority of the Aristocrats diminished in order to give it to the People, but it remained shared (between the three) it made the Republic perfect: which perfection resulted from the disunion of the Plebs and the Senate, as we shall discuss at length in the next following chapters.

CHAPTER III

WHAT EVENTS CAUSED THE CREATION OF THE TRIBUNES OF THE PLEBS IN ROME, WHICH MADE THE REPUBLIC MORE PERFECT

As all those have shown who have discussed civil institutions, and as every history is full of examples, it is necessary to whoever arranges to found a Republic and establish laws in it, to presuppose that all men are bad and that they will use their malignity of mind every time they have the opportunity; and if such malignity is hidden for a time, it proceeds from the unknown reason that would not be known because the experience of the contrary had not been seen, but time, which is said to be the father of every truth, will cause it to be discovered. It seemed that in Rome there was a very great harmony between the Plebs and the Senate (the Tarquins having been driven out), and that the nobles had laid aside their haughtiness and had become of a popular spirit, and supportable to everyone even to the lowest. This deception was hidden, nor was the cause seen while the Tarquins lived, whom the nobility feared, and having fear that the maltreated plebs might not side with them (the nobles) they behaved themselves humanely toward them: but as soon as the Tarquins were dead, and that fear left the Nobles, they begun to vent upon the plebs that poison which they had kept within their breasts, and in every way they could they offended them: which thing gives testimony to that which was said above that men never act well except through necessity: but where choice abounds and where license may be used, everything is quickly filled with confusion and disorder. It is said therefore that Hunger and Poverty make men industrious, and Laws make them good. And where something by itself works well without law, the law is not necessary: but when that good custom is lacking, the law immediately becomes necessary. Thus the Tarquins being dead through fear of whom the Nobles were kept in restraint, it behooved them (the Nobles) to think of a new order, which would cause the same effect which the Tarquins had caused when they were alive. And therefore after many confusions, tumults, and dangers of troubles, which arose between the Plebs and the Nobility, they came for the security of the Plebs to the creation of the Tribunes, and they were given so much preeminence and so much reputation, that they then should always be able to be in the middle between the Plebs and the Senate, and obviate the insolence of the Nobles.

CHAPTER IV

THAT DISUNION OF THE PLEBS AND THE ROMAN SENATE MADE THAT REPUBLIC FREE AND POWERFUL

I do not want to miss discoursing on these tumults that occurred in Rome from the death of the Tarquins to the creation of the Tribunes; and afterwards I will discourse on some things contrary to the opinions of many who say that Rome was a tumultuous Republic and full of so much confusion, that if good fortune and military virtu had not supplied her defects, she would have been inferior to every other Republic.

I cannot deny that fortune and the military were the causes of the Roman Empire; but it indeed seems to me that this would not happen except when military discipline is good, it happens that where order is good, (and) only rarely there may not be good fortune accompanying. But let us come to the other particulars of that City. I say that those who condemn the tumults between the nobles and the plebs, appear to me to blame those things that were the chief causes for keeping Rome free, and that they paid more attention to the noises and shouts that arose in those tumults than to the good effects they brought forth, and that they did not consider that in every Republic there are two different viewpoints, that of the People and that of the Nobles; and that all the laws that are made in favor of liberty result from their disunion, as may easily be seen to have happened in Rome, for from Tarquin to the Gracchi which was more than three hundred years, the tumults of Rome rarely brought forth exiles, and more rarely blood. Nor is it possible therefore to judge these tumults harmful, nor divisive to a Republic, which in so great a time sent into exile no more than eight or ten of its citizens because of its differences, and put to death only a few, and condemned in money (fined) not very many: nor can a Republic in any way with reason be called disordered where there are so many examples of virtu, for good examples result from good education, good education from good laws, and good laws from those tumults which many inconsiderately condemn; for he who examines well the result of these, will not find that they have brought forth any exile or violence prejudicial to the common good, but laws and institutions in benefit of public liberty. And if anyone should say the means were extraordinary and almost savage, he will see the People together shouting against the Senate, The Senate against the People, running tumultuously throughout the streets, locking their stores, all the Plebs departing from Rome, all of which (things) alarm only those who read of them; I say, that every City ought to have their own means with which its People can give vent to their ambitions, and especially those Cities which in important matters, want to avail themselves of the People; among which the City of Rome had this method, that when those people wanted to obtain a law, either they did some of the things mentioned before or they would not enroll their names to go to war, so that to placate them it was necessary (for the Senate) in some part to satisfy them: and the desires of a free people rarely are pernicious to liberty, because they arise either from being oppressed or from the suspicion of going to be oppressed. And it these opinions should be false, there is the remedy of haranguing (public assembly), where some upright man springs up who through oratory shows them that they deceive themselves; and the people (as Tullius Cicero says) although they are ignorant, are capable of (appreciating) the truth, and easily give in when the truth is given to them by a trustworthy man.

One ought therefore to be more sparing in blaming the Roman government, and to consider that so many good effects which came from that Republic, were not caused except for the best of reasons: And if the tumults were the cause of creation of Tribunes, they merit the highest praise, for in addition to giving the people a part in administration, they were established for guarding Roman liberty, as will be shown in the next chapter.

CHAPTER V

WHERE THE GUARDING OF LIBERTY IS MORE SECURELY PLACED, EITHER IN THE PEOPLE OR IN THE NOBLES; AND WHICH HAVE THE GREATER REASON TO BECOME TUMULTOUS EITHER HE WHO WANTS TO ACQUIRE OR HE WHO WANTS TO MAINTAIN

Among the more necessary things instituted by those who have prudently established a Republic, was to establish a guard to liberty, and according as this was well or badly place, that freedom endured a greater or less (period of time). And because in every Republic there exists the Nobles and the Populace, it may be a matter of doubt in whose hands the guard is better placed. And the Lacedemonians, and in our times the Venetians, placed it in the hands of the Nobles, but that of Rome was placed in the hands of the Plebs. It is necessary therefore to examine which of the Republics had made the better selection. And if we go past the causes and examine every part, and if their results should be examined, the side of the Nobles would be preferred since the liberty of Sparta and Venice had a much longer life than that of Rome: And to come to the reasons, I say (taking up first the part of the Romans) that thing (liberty) which is to be guarded ought to be done by those who have the least desire of usurping it. And without doubt, if the object of the Nobles and of the Ignobles (populace) is considered, it will be seen that the former have a great desire to dominate, and the latter a desire not to be dominated and consequently a greater desire to live free, being less hopeful of usurping it (liberty) than are the Nobles: so that the People placed in charge to guard the liberty of anyone, reasonably will take better care of it; for not being able to take it away themselves, they do not permit others to take it away.

On the other hand, he who defends the Spartan and Venetian arrangement, says that those who placed that guardianship in the hands of the Powerful (Nobles), made two good points: The one, that they satisfy more the ambitions of those who playing a greater part in the Republic, (and) having this club in their hands, have more reason to be content; the other, that they take away a kind of authority from the restless spirit of the People which is the cause of infinite discussions and troubles in a Republic, and apt to bring the Nobility to some (act of) desperation which in times may result in some bad effects. And they give for an example this selfsame Rome, where the Tribunes of the Plebs having this authority in their hands, (and) the having of one Consul from the Plebs was not enough for them (the People), but that they wanted to have both (the Consuls from the Plebs). From this they afterward wanted the Censure, the Praetorship, and all the other ranks of the Empire (Government) of the Republic. Nor was this enough for them, but urged on by the same fury they began in time to idolize those men whom they saw adept at beating down the Nobility: whence arose the power of Marius and the ruin of Rome.

And truly whoever should discuss well both of these things could be in doubt as to what kind of men may be more harmful to the Republic, either those who desire to acquire that which they do not have, or those who desire to maintain the honors already acquired. And in the end whoever examines everything skillfully will come to this conclusion: The discussion is either of a Republic which wants to create an Empire, as Rome, or of one which is satisfied to maintain itself. In the first case it is necessary for it to do everything as Rome did; in the second, it can imitate Venice and Sparta, for those reasons why and how as will be described in the succeeding chapter.

But to return to the discussion as to which men are more harmful in a Republic, either those who desire to acquire, or those who fear to lose that which they have acquired, I say that when Marcus Menenius had been made Dictator, and Marcus Fulvius Master of the cavalry, both plebeians, in order to investigate certain conspiracies that had been formed in Capua against Rome, they were also given authority by the people to be able to search out who in Rome from ambition and by extraordinary means should endeavor to attain the Consulate and other houses (offices) of the City. And it appearing to the Nobility that such authority given to the Dictator was directed against them, they spread the word throughout Rome that it was not the Nobles who were seeking the honors for ambition, or by extraordinary means, but the Ignobles (Plebeians) who, trusting neither to their blood (birth) nor in their own virtu, sought to attain those dignities, and they particularly accused the Dictator: And so powerful was this accusation, that Menenius having made a harangue (speech) and complaining of the calumnies spread against him by the Nobles, he deposed the Dictatorship, and submitted himself to that judgement (of himself) which should be made by the People: And then the cause having been pleaded, he was absolved; at which time there was much discussion as to who was the more ambitious, he who wanted to maintain (his power) or he who wanted to acquire it, since the desires of either the one or the other could be the cause of the greatest tumults. But none the less more frequently they are caused by those who possess (power), for the fear of losing it generates in them the same desires that are in those who want to acquire it, because it does not seem to men to possess securely that which they have, unless they acquire more from others. And, moreover, those who possess much, can make changes with greater power and facility. And what is yet worse, is that their breaking out and ambitious conduct arouses in the breasts of those who do not possess (power) the desire to possess it, either to avenge themselves against them (the former) by despoiling them, or in order to make it possible also for them to partake of those riches and honors which they see are so badly used by the others.

CHAPTER VI

WHETHER IT WAS POSSIBLE TO ESTABLISH A GOVERNMENT IN ROME WHICH COULD ELIMINATE THE ENMITY BETWEEN THE POPULACE AND THE SENATE

We have discussed above the effects which were caused by the controversies between the People and the Senate. Now these having continued up to the time of the Gracchi, where they were the cause of the loss of liberty, some might wish that Rome had done the great things that she did without there being that enmity within her. It seems to me therefore a thing worthy of consideration to see whether in Rome there could have been a government (state) established that could have eliminated the aforementioned controversies. And to desire to examine this it is necessary to have recourse to those Republics which have had their liberty for a long time without such enmities and tumults, and to see what (form) of government theirs was, and if it could have been introduced in Rome.

For example, there is Sparta among the ancients, Venice among the modern, (both) having been previously mentioned by me. Sparta created a King with a small Senate which should govern her. Venice did not divide its government by these distinctions, but gave all those who could have a part in the administration (of its government) the name of Gentlemen: In this manner, chance more than prudence gave them (the Venetians) the laws (form of Government), for having taken refuge on those rocks where the City now is, for the reasons mentioned above many of the inhabitants, as they had increased to so great a number, with the desire to live together, so that needing to make laws for themselves, they established a government, (and) came together often in councils to discuss the affairs of the City; when it appeared to them that they had become numerous enough for existing as a commonwealth, they closed the path to all the others who should newly come to live there to take part in their government: And in time finding in that place many inhabitants outside the government, in order to give reputation to those who were governing, they called them Gentlemen, and the others Popolari. This form (of Government) could establish and maintain itself without tumult, because when it was born, whoever then lived in Venice participated in that government, with which no one could complain: Those who came to live there later, finding the State firm and established did not have cause or opportunity to create a tumult. The cause was not there because nothing had been taken from them. The opportunity was not there because those who ruled kept them in check and did not employ them in affairs where they could pick up authority. In addition to this, those who came to inhabit Venice later were not very many, or of such a great number that these would be a disproportion between those who governed and those who were governed, for the number of Gentlemen were either equal to or greater than the others: so that for these reasons Venice could establish that State and maintain it united.

Sparta, as I have said, being governed by a King and limited Senate could thus maintain itself for a long time because there being few inhabitants in Sparta, and the path having been closed to those who should want to live there, and the laws of Lycurgus having acquired such reputation that their observance removed all the causes for tumults. They were able to live united for a long time, for Lycurgus had established in Sparta more equality of substance and less equality in rank, because equal poverty existed here and the Plebs were lacking ambitious men, as the offices of the City were extended to few Citizens, and were kept distant from the Plebs, nor did the Nobles by not treating them badly ever create in them the desire to want them. This resulted from the Spartan Kings, who, being placed in that Principate and living in the midst of that Nobility, did not have may better means of maintaining their office, than to keep the Plebs defended from every injury: which caused the Plebs neither to fear nor to desire authority, and not having the dominion, nor fear of it, there was eliminated the competition which they might have had with the Nobility, and the cause of tumults, and thus they could live united for a long time. But two things principally caused this union: The one, the inhabitants of Sparta were few, and because of this were able to be governed by a few: The other, that not accepting outsiders in their Republic, they did not have the opportunity either of becoming corrupt or of increasing so much that they should become unsupportable to those few who governed her.

Considering all these things, therefore, it is seen that it was necessary that the legislators of Rome do one of two things in desiring that Rome be as quiet as the above mentioned Republic, either not to employ the Plebs in war like the Venetians, or not to open the door to outsiders like the Spartans, But they did the one and the other, which gave the Plebs strength and increased power and infinite opportunities for tumults. And if the Roman State had come to be more tranquil, it would have resulted that she would have become even more feeble, because there would have been cut off from her the means of being able to attain that greatness which she achieved. So that Rome wanting to remove the causes for tumults, would also take away the causes for expansion. And as in all human affairs, those who examine them will indeed see that it is never possible to avoid one inconvenience but that another one will spring up. If therefore, you want to make a people numerous and armed in order to create a great Empire, you will make it of a kind that you are not able afterward to manage it in your own way: if you keep them either small or disarmed in order to be able to manage them, (and), if you acquire other dominion, you will not be able to hold them, or you will become so mean that you will become prey to whoever assaults you. And therefore, in every one of our decisions, there ought to be considered where the inconveniences are less, and then take up the better proceeding, for there will never be formed anything entirely clear of suspicion. Rome could therefore, like Sparta, have created a Prince for life, and established a limited Senate; but desiring to build a great Empire, she could not, like Sparta, limit the number of her Citizens: which, in creating a King for life and a small number in the Senate, would have been of little benefit in connection with her unity. If anyone therefore should want to establish a new Republic, he should have to consider if he should want it to expand in dominion and power as did Rome, or whether it should remain within narrow limits. In the first case, it is necessary to establish it as Rome, and to give place to tumults and general dissensions as best he can; for without a great number of men, and (those) well armed, no Republic can ever increase, or if it did increase, to maintain itself. In thy second case he may establish her as Sparta and Venice: but because expansion is the poison of such Republics, he ought in every way he can prevent her from making acquisitions, for such acquisitions, based on a weak Republic, are entirely their ruin, as happened to Sparta and Venice, the first of which having subjected almost all of Greece, showed the weakness of its foundation with the slightest accident; for when there ensued the rebellion of Thebes caused by Pelopidas, the other cities also rebelling, ruined that Republic entirely.

Similarly Venice having occupied a great part of Italy, and the greater part (obtained) not by war but by money and astuteness, when it came to make a test of her strength everything was lost in one engagement. I believe then that to create a Republic which should endure a long time, the better way would be to organize internally like Sparta, or like Venice locate it in a strong place, and of such power that no one should believe he could quickly oppress her: and on the other hand, it should not be so powerful that she should be formidable to her neighbors, and thus she could enjoy its state (independence) for a long time. For there are two reasons why war is made against a Republic: The one, to become lord over her: the other, the fear of being occupied by her. These two means in the above mentioned manner almost entirely removed (the reasons for war), for it is difficult to destroy her, being well organized for her defense, as I presuppose, it will rarely or never happen that one can design to conquer her. If she remains within her limits, and from experience it is seen that there is no ambition in her, it will never happen that someone for fear of her will make war against her: and this would be so much more so if there should be in her constitution or laws (restrictions) that should prohibit her expansion. And without doubt I believe that things could be kept balanced in this way, that there would be the best political existence, and real tranquillity to a City. But all affairs of men being (continually) in motion and never being able to remain stable, it happens that (States) either remain stable or decline: and necessity leads you to do many things which reason will not lead you to do; so that having established a Republic adept at maintaining itself without expanding, and necessity should induce her to expand, her foundations would be taken away and her ruin accomplished more readily. Thus, on the other hand, if Heaven should be so kind that she would never have to make war, the languidness that should arise would make her either effeminate or divided: which two together, or each one by itself, would be cause of her ruin. Not being able, therefore, (as I believe) to balance these things, and to maintain this middle course, it is necessary in organizing a Republic to think of the more honorable side, and organize her in a way that if necessity should induce her to expand, she may be able to preserve that which she should have acquired. And to return to the first discussion, I believe it is necessary to follow the Roman order and not that of any other Republic (because I do not believe it is possible to find a middle way between one and the other) and to tolerate that enmity that should arise between the People and the Senate, accepting it as an inconvenient necessity in attaining the Roman greatness. Because in addition to the other reasons alleged, where the authority of the Tribunes is shown to be necessary for the guarding of liberty, it is easy to consider the benefit that will come to the Republic from this authority of accusing (judiciary), which among others was committed to the Tribunes, as will be discussed in the following chapter.

CHAPTER VII

HOW MUCH THE FACULTY OF ACCUSING (JUDICIARY) IS NECESSARY FOR A REPUBLIC FOR THE MAINTENANCE OF LIBERTY

No more useful and necessary authority can be given to those who are appointed in a City to guard its liberty, as is that of being able to accuse the citizen to the People or to any Magistrate or Council, if he should in any way transgress against the free state. This arrangement makes for two most useful effects for a Republic. The first is, that for fear of being accused, the citizens do not attempt anything against the state, and if they should (make an) attempt they are punished immediately and without regard (to person). The other is, that it provides a way for giving vent to those moods which in whatever way and against whatever citizens may arise in the City. And when these moods do not provide a means by which they may be vented, they ordinarily have recourse to extra ordinary means that cause the complete ruin of a Republic. And there is nothing which makes a Republic so stable and firm, as organizing it in such a way that changes in the moods which may agitate it have a way prescribed by law for venting themselves. This can be demonstrated by many examples, and especially by that of Coriolanus, which Titus Livius refers to, where he says that the Roman Nobility being irritated against the Plebs, because it seemed to them the Plebs had too much authority concerning the creation of the Tribunes who defended them, and Rome (as happened) experiencing a great scarcity of provisions, and the Senate having sent to Sicily for grain, Coriolanus, enemy of the popular faction, counselled that the time had come (to be able) to castigate the Plebs and take away authority which they had acquired and assumed to the prejudice of the Nobility, by keeping them famished and not distributing the grain: which proposition coming to the ears of the people, caused so great an indignation against Coriolanus, that on coming out of the Senate he would have been killed in a tumultuary way if the Tribunes had not summoned him to appear and defend his cause. From this incident there is to be noted that which was mentioned above, that it is useful and necessary for a Republic with its laws to provide a means of venting that ire which is generally conceived against a citizen, for if these ordinary means do not exist, they will have recourse to extraordinary ones, and without doubt these produce much worse effects that do the others. For ordinarily when a citizen is oppressed, even if he has received an injustice, little or no disorder ensues in the Republic, because its execution is done by neither private nor foreign forces which are those that ruin public liberty, but is done by public force and arrangement which have their own particular limits, and do not transcend to things that ruin the Republic.

And to corroborate this opinion with examples, among the ancient ones I want this one of Coriolanus to be enough, on which anyone should consider how much evil would have resulted to the Roman Republic if he had been killed in the tumults, for there would have arisen an offense by a private (citizen) against a private (citizen); which offense generates fear, fear seeks defense, for this defense partisans are procured, from the partisans factions arise in the City, (and) the factions cause their ruin. But the matter being controlled by those who had authority, all those evils which could arise if it were governed by private authority were avoided. We have seen in our time that troubles happened to the Republic of Florence because the multitude was able to give vent to their spirit in an ordinary way against one of her citizens, as befell in the time of Francesco Valori, who was as a Prince in that City (and) who being judged ambitious by many, and a man who wanted by his audacity and animosity to transcend the civil authority, and there being no way in the Republic of being able to resist him except by a faction contrary to his, there resulted that he (Valori) having no fear except from some extraordinary happening, began to enlist supporters who should defend him: On the other hand, those who opposed him not having any regular way or repressing him, thought of extraordinary ways, so that it came to arms. And where (if it were possible to oppose him, Valori, by regular means) his authority would have been extinguished with injury to himself only, but having to extinguish it by extraordinary means, there ensued harm not only to himself, but to many other noble citizens. We could also city in support of the above mentioned conclusion the incident which ensued in Florence in connection with Piero Soderini, which resulted entirely because there was not in that Republic (means of making) accusations against the ambitions of powerful citizens: for the accusing of a powerful one before eight judges in a Republic is not enough; it is necessary that the judges be many because the few always judge in favor of the few. So that if such a means had been in existence, they would have accused him (Soderini) of evil while yet alive, and through such means without having the Spanish army (called) to come in, they would have given vent to their feelings; or if he had not done evil they would not have had the audacity to move against him, for fear that they would be accused by him: and thus both sides would have ceased having that desire which was the cause of the trouble.

So that this can be concluded, that whenever it is seen that external forces are called in by a party of men who live in a City, it can be judged to result from its bad organization because there did not exist within that circle of arrangements, a way to be able without extraordinary means to give vent to the malignant moods that arise in men, which can be completely provided by instituting accusations before many judges and giving them reputation (authority). These things were so well organized in Rome that in so many discussions between the Plebs and the Senate, neither the Senate nor the Plebs nor any particular citizen, ever attempted to avail (himself) of external force, for having the remedy at home it was not necessary to go outside for it. And although the above examples are amply sufficient to prove this, none the less I want to refer to another recital by Titus Livius in his history, which refers to there having been in Chiusi (Clusium), at that time a most noble City of Tuscany, one Lucumones who had violated a sister of Aruntes, and Aruntes not being able to avenge himself because of the power of the violator, went to seek out the French (Gauls) who then ruled in that place which today is called Lombardy, and urged them to come to Chiusi with arms in hand, pointing out to them how they could avenge the injury he had received with advantage to themselves: but if Aruntes could have seen how he could have avenged himself by the provisions of the City, he would not have sought the barbarian forces. But just as these accusations are useful in a Republic, so also are calumnies useless and harmful, as we shall discuss in the next chapter.

CHAPTER VIII

AS MUCH AS ACCUSATIONS ARE USEFUL TO A REPUBLIC, SO MUCH SO ARE CALUMNIES PERNICIOUS

Notwithstanding that the virtu of Furius Camillus when he was liberating (Rome) from the oppression of the French (Gauls) had caused the Roman citizens to yield him (top honors) without appearing to them to have lost reputation or rank, none the less Manlius Capitolinus was not able to endure that so much honor and glory should be bestowed on him; for it seemed to him he had done as much for the welfare of Rome by having saved the Campidoglio (Capitol), he had merited as much as Camillus, and as for other warlike praises he was not inferior to him. So that filled with envy, he was not able to sow discord among the Fathers (Senators) he turned to the Plebs, sowing various sinister opinions among them. And among other things he said was, that the treasure which had been collected (together) to be given to the French (Gauls), and then was not given to them, had been usurped by private citizens: and if its should be recovered it could be converted to public usefulness, alleviating the plebs from tribute or from some private debt. These words greatly impressed the Plebs, so that Manlius begun to have concourse with them and at his instigation (created) many tumults in the City: This thing displeased the Senate and they deeming it of moment and perilous, created a Dictator who should take cognizance of the case and restrain the rashness of (Manlius); whereupon the Dictator had him summoned, and they met face to face in public, the Dictator in the midst of the Nobles and Manlius in the midst of the Plebs. Manlius was asked what he had to say concerning who obtained the treasure that he spoke about, for the Senate was as desirous of knowing about it as the Plebs: to which Manlius made no particular reply, but going on in an evasive manner he said, that it was not necessary to tell them that which they already knew, so that the Dictator had him put in prison. And it is to be noted by this text how detestable calumnies are in free Cities and in every other form of government, and that in order to repress them no arrangement made for such a proposition ought to be neglected. Nor can there be a better arrangement to putting an end to these (calumnies) than to open the way for accusations, for accusations are as beneficial to Republics as calumnies are harmful: and on the other hand there is this difference, that calumnies do not need witnesses nor any other particular confrontation to prove them so that anyone can be calumniated by anyone else, but cannot now be accused, as the accuser has need of positive proof and circumstances that would show the truth of the accusation. Men must make the accusations before the Magistrates, the People, or the Councils: calumnies (are spread) throughout the plaza and lodgings (private dwellings). These calumnies are practiced more where accusations are used less and where Cities are less constituted to receive them. An establisher of a Republic therefore ought so to organize it that it is possible to accuse every citizen without any fear and without any suspicion: and this being done, and well carried out, he should severely punish the calumniators, who cannot complain if they are punished, they having places open to them to hear the accusations of those who had caluminated them in private. And where this part is not well organized great disorders always follow, for calumnies irritate but do not castigate citizens, and those who have been irritated think of strengthening themselves, easily hating more than fearing the things that are said against them.

¶ This part (as has been said) was well organized in Rome, and has always been poorly organized in our City of Florence. And as in Rome this institution did much good, at Florence this poor order did much evil. And whoever reads the history of this City, will see how many calumnies have been perpetrated in every time against those citizens who occupied themselves in its important affairs. Of one, they said he had robbed money from the Community; of another, that he had not succeeded in an enterprise because of having been corrupted; and of yet another, because of his ambitions had caused such and such inconvenience. Of the things that resulted there sprung up hate on every side, whence it came to divisions, from divisions to Factions (Sects), (and), from Factions to ruin. If in Florence there had been some arrangement for the accusation of citizens and punishment of calumniators, there would not have occurred the infinite troubles that have ensued, for those Citizens who had been either condemned or absolved, could not have harmed the City, and there would have been a much less number accused than there had been calumniated, as it could not have been (as I have said) as easy to accuse as to calumniate any one. And among the other things that some citizens might employ to achieve greatness have been these calumnies, which employed against powerful citizens who opposed his ambition, did much for them; for by taking up the past of the people, and confirming them the opinion which they had of them (the nobles), he made them his friends.

And although we could refer to many examples, I want to be content with only one. The Florentine army which was besieging Lucca was commanded by Messer Giovanni Guicciardini, their Commissioner. It was due either to his bad management or his bad fortune, that the fall of that City did not ensue. But whatever the case may have been, Messer Giovanni was blamed, alleging he had been corrupted by the Lucchesi: which calumny, being favored by his enemies, brought Messer Giovanni almost to the last desperation. And although, to justify himself because there was no way in that Republic of being able to do so. From which there arose great indignation among the friends of Messer Giovanni, who constituted the greater part of the nobility, and (also) among those who desired to make changes in Florence. This affair, both for this and other similar reasons, grew so, that there resulted the ruin of the Republic.

Manlius Capitolinus was therefore a calumniator and not an accuser; and the Romans showed in this case in point how the calumniators ought to be punished. For they ought to be made to become accusers, and if the accusation proves true either to reward them or not punish them; but if it does not prove true, to punish them as Manlius was punished.

CHAPTER IX

HOW IT IS NECESSARY FOR ONE MAN ALONE IN DESIRING TO ORGANIZE A NEW REPUBLIC TO REFORM ITS INSTITUTIONS ENTIRELY OUTSIDE THE ANCIENT ONES

And it may appear perhaps to some that I have gone too far into Roman history, not having yet made any mention of the organizers of this Republic, or of (having regard for) her institutions, her religion, and her military establishment. And therefore, not wanting to keep in suspense the minds of those who want to understand these matters, I say, that many perhaps should judge it a bad example that the founder of a civil society, as Romulus was, should first have killed his brother, then have consented to the death of Titus Tatius, a Sabine, who had been chosen by him to share the Kingdom; because of which it might be judged that the citizens could, from ambition and the desire to rule, with the authority of their Prince, attack those who should be opposed to their authority. Which opinion would be correct, if the object he had in mind in causing that homicide should be considered. But this must be assumed, as a general rule, that it never or rarely occurs that some Republic or Kingdom is well organized from the beginning, or its institutions entirely reformed a new, unless it is arranged by one (individual only): rather it is necessary that the only one who carries it out should be he who on whose mind such an organization depends. A prudent Organizer of a Republic, therefore, who has in mind to want to promote, not himself, but the common good, and not his own succession but his (common) country, ought to endeavor to have the authority alone: and a wise planner will never reprimand anyone for any extraordinary activity that he should employ either in the establishment of a Kingdom or in constituting a Republic. It is well then, when the deed accuses him, the result should excuse him; and when it is good, as that of Romulus, he will always be excused; for he ought to be reprehended who is violent in order to destroy, and not he who does so for beneficial reasons. He ought, however, to be so prudent and wise that the authority which he has assumed, he will not leave to his heirs (or) any other: for men being more prone to evil than to good, his successor could employ for reasons of ambition that which should be employed for virtuous reasons by him. In addition to this, even if one is adept at organizing, the thing organized will not endure long if its (administration) remains only on the shoulders of one individual, but it is good when it remains in the care of many, and thus there will be many to sustain it. As the organization of anything cannot be made by many because of the diverse opinions that exist among them, yet having once understood this, they will not agree to forego it. And that Romulus merited to be excused for the death of his brother and that of his companion, and that what he had done he did for the common good and not for his own ambition, is shown by his immediate institution of a Senate with which he should consult, and according to the opinions of which he would make his decision. And whoever considers well the authority which Romulus reserved for himself, will see that he did not reserve anything else other than the command of the army when war was decided upon, and of convening the Senate. This was seen at that time when Rome became free after the driving out of the Tarquins, where there was no other innovation made on the ancient institutions except that in place of an hereditary King there should be two Consuls (elected) each year. Which gives testimony that all the institutions at the origin of that City were more in conformity with a free and civil society than with an absolute and tyrannical one.

Infinite examples could be given in corroboration of the things mentioned above, such as Moses, Lycurgus, Solon, and other founders of Kingdoms and Republics, who were able to formulate laws for the common good (only) by assigning the (necessary) authority to themselves: but I want to omit these as they are already well known. I will refer only to one not so well known, but which should be given consideration by those who desire to be institutors of good laws, (and), this is that of Agis, King of Sparta, who desiring to bring the Spartans back to those limits which the laws of Lycurgus had delimited for them, (and), it seeming to him that by deviating in part from them his City had lost much of that ancient virtu, and consequently her power and dominion, was at once killed by Spartan Ephors as a man who wanted to become a Tyrant. But Cleomenes succeeding him in the Kingdom, there arose in him the same desire from (reading) the records and writings of Agis that he found, in which his thoughts and intentions were seen, (and) he recognized that he could not render this good to his country, unless he should become alone in authority, as it seemed to him he would not be able because of the ambitions of men to provide the good for the many against the desires of the few: and seizing a convenient opportunity had all the Ephors killed and those who could oppose him: after which he completely restored the laws of Lycurgus. This decision helped to revive Sparta and give to Cleomene that reputation which was (equal) to that of Lycurgus, if it had not been for the power of Macedonia and the weakness of the other Greek Republics. For after this establishment (of the laws) he was soon assaulted by the Macedonians, and finding that by herself (Sparta) was inferior in strength, and not having anyone to whom he could have recourse, he was defeated, and his plans (no matter how just and laudable) remained incompleted. Considering all these things, therefore, I conclude that to establish a Republic it is necessary that one must be alone, and Romulus merits to be excused and not censured for the death of Remus and of Tatius.

CHAPTER X

AS MUCH AS THE FOUNDERS OF REPUBLICS AND KINGDOMS ARE LAUDABLE, SO MUCH ARE THOSE OF A TYRANNY SHAMEFUL

Among all men who have been praised, the most lauded are those who are heads and establishers of Religion. Next after them are those who have founded Republics or Kingdoms. After these are celebrated those who have commanded armies, (and) who have enlarged the (territory) of their Kingdom of those of their country. To these should be added men of letters, and because these are of many fields, they are celebrated according to their degree (of excellence). To other men, the number of whom is infinite, some degree of praise is given to them as pertain to their art and profession. On the other hand, those men are infamous and destroyers of Religion, dissipators of Kingdoms and Republics, enemies of virtu, of letters, and of every other art which brings usefulness and honor to human generations (mankind), such as are the impious and violent, the ignorant, the idle, the vile and degraded. And no one will ever be so mad or so wise, so wicked or so good, that selecting between these two kinds of men, does not laud what is laudable, and censure what is censurable. None the less, however, nearly all men deceived by a false good or a false glory allow themselves to drift either voluntarily or ignorantly into the ranks of those who merit more censure that praise. And being able to establish either a Kingdom or a Republic with eternal honor to themselves, they turn to Tyranny, nor do they see because of this action how much fame, how much glory, how much honor, security, and tranquil satisfaction of the mind, they lose; and how much infamy, disgrace, censure, danger, and disquiet, they incur. And it is impossible that those who live as private individuals in a Republic, or who by fortune or virtu become Princes, if they read the history and the records of ancient events, would do well living as private citizens in their country to live rather as a Scipio than a Caesar; and those who are Princes, rather as Agesilaus, Timoleon, and Dion, than as Nabis, Phalaris, and Dionysius, because they will see these (latter) to be thoroughly disgraced and those (former) most highly praised. They will also see that Timoleon and the others had no less authority in their country than had Dionysius and Phalaris, but they will see that they had had greater security for a longer time. Nor is there anyone who deceives himself by the glory of Caesar, he being especially celebrated by writers, for those who praised him were corrupted by his fortune and frightened by the long duration of the Empire which, ruling under his name did not permit that writers should talk of him freely. But whoever wants to know what the writers would have said of him freely, let him observe what they say of Cataline. And so much more is Caesar to be detested, as how much more is he to be censured for that which he did, than he who (just) intends to do evil. He will also see how Brutus was extolled with so many praises; so that not being able to censure him (Caesar) because of his power they extolled his enemy. Let he who has become a Prince in a Republic also consider how much more praise those Emperors merited who, after Rome became an Empire, lived under the laws (and) as good Princes, than those who lived an in a contrary manner; and he will also see that it was not necessary for the praetorian soldiers or the multitudes of the legions to defend Titus, Nerva, Trajan, Hadrai Trajan, Hadrian, Antoninus, and Marcus (Aurelius), because their customs, the good will of the people, and the love of the Senate would defend them. He will also see that the Eastern and Western armies were not sufficient to save Caligula, Nero, Vitellius, and so many other wicked emperors, from those enemies which their bad customs and evil lives had raised up against them.

And if the history of those men should be well considered, it would be very instructive to any Prince in pointing out to him the way to glory or censure, to security or fear. For of the twenty-six who were Emperors from Caesar to Maximinius, sixteen were murdered. Ten died in a natural way; and if among those who were murdered there may have been some good men, such as Galba and Pertinax, they were killed by that corruption that his predecessors had left among the soldiers. And if among those who died in a natural way there were some wicked, such as Severns, it resulted from their very great good fortune and virtu, which two things are found together in few men. He will also learn from this lesson of history how a good Kingdom can be organized, for all, except Titus, were bad: (and) those who succeeded by adoption were all good, such as were those five from Nero to Marcus (Aurelius). And when the Empire became hereditary, it came to ruin. Let a Prince therefore place himself in the times of Nero and Marcus, and let him compare them with those which preceded and followed (that period) and afterward let him select in which (of the two) he would want to be born and in which he would want to reign. For in those times governed by good (Emperors), he will see a Prince secure in thy midst of secure citizens, he will see the world full of peace and justice, he will see the Senate with its authority, the Magistrates with their honor, rich citizens enjoying their wealth, nobility and virtu exalted, he will see every quiet and good; and on the other hand (he will see) every rancor, every license, corruption, and ambition extinct; he will see that golden era where everyone can hold and defend whatever opinion he wishes: In the end, he will see the triumph of the world, the Prince full of reverence and glory, the people full of love and security. Then if he will consider the sorrowful times of the other Emperors, he will see the atrocities from war, discords from seditions, cruelty in peace and war, so many Princes slain by the sword, so many civil wars, so many foreign wars, Italy afflicted and full of new misfortunes, her Cities ruined and sacked: He will see Rome burned, the Capitol of its citizens destroyed, the ancient temples desolate, ceremonies corrupted, the City full of adulterers: he will see the sea full of exiles, the shores full of blood. He will see innumerable cruelties take place in Rome, and nobility, riches, honors, and above all virtu, accounted capital crimes. He will see informers rewarded, servants corrupted against the masters, freemen against their patrons, and those who should lack enemies, oppressed by friends. And he will also recognize very well what obligations Rome, Italy, and the world owed to Caesar. And without doubt (if he was born of man), he would be dismayed at every imitation of those evil times, and burning with an immense desire to follow the good. And truly, a Prince seeking the glory of the world ought to desire to possess a corrupt City, not to spoil it entirely like Caesar, but to reorganize it like Romulus. And truly the heavens cannot give man a greater opportunity for glory, nor could man desire a better one. And if to want to organize a City well, it should be necessary to abolish the Principate, he who had failed to (give her good laws) should merit some excuse. But he does not merit any excuse who can hold the Principate and organize it. And in sum, let he to whom the heavens gives the opportunity consider that there are two ways: The one which will make him live securely and render him glorious after his death, the other which will make him live in continual anxiety and after death leave of himself an eternal infamy.

CHAPTER XI

OF THE RELIGIONS OF THE ROMANS

Although Rome had Romulus as its original organizer and, like a daughter, owed her birth and education to him, none the less the heavens, judging that the institutions of Romulus were not sufficient for so great an Empire, put it into the breasts of the Roman Senate to elect Numa Pompilius as successor to Romulus, so that those things that he had omitted, would be instituted by Numa. Who, finding a very ferocious people and wanting to reduce them to civil obedience by the acts of peace, turned to religion as something completely necessary in wanting to maintain a civilization, and he established it in such a manner that for many centuries there never was more fear of God than in that Republic, which facilitated any enterprise which the Senate or those of great Roman men should plan to do. And whoever should discuss the infinite actions of the people of Rome (taken) all together, and of many Romans (individually) by themselves, will see that those citizens feared much more the breaking of an oath than the laws, like those men who esteem more the power of God than that of man, as is manifestly seen in the examples of Scipio and of Manlius Torquatus, for after the defeat that Hannibal had inflicted on the Romans at Cannae, many citizens had gathered together (and) frightened and fearful (and) had agreed to abandon Italy and take themselves to Sicily: when Scipio heard of this, he went to meet them, and with bared sword in hand he constrained them to swear not to abandon their country. Lucius Manlius, father of Titus Manlius, who was later called Torquatus, had been accused by Marcus Pomponius, a Tribune of the Plebs: and before the day of judgment arrived, Titus went to meet Marcus, and threatening to kill him if he did not swear to withdraw the accusation against his father, constrained him to swear, and he (Marcus) from fear of having sworn withdrew the accusation from him (Lucius). And thus those citizens whom (neither) the love of their country and of its laws could keep in Italy, were kept there by an oath that they were forced to take, and the Tribune put aside the hatred that he had for his father, the injury that his son had done him, and his honor, in order to obey the oath taken; which did not result from anything else than from that religion which Numa had introduced in that City. And whoever considers well Roman history will see how much Religion served in commanding the armies, in reuniting the plebs, both in keeping men good, and in making the wicked ashamed. So that if it were discussed as to which Prince Rome should be more obligated, Romulus or Numa, I believe that Numa would (rather) attain the higher rank; for where Religion exists it is easily possible to introduce arms, but where there are arms and not religion, it (religion) can only be introduced there with difficulty. And it is seen that for Romulus to institute the Senate and to make the other civil and military arrangements, the authority of God was not necessary, but it was very necessary for Numa, who pretended he had met with a Nymph who advised him of that which he should counsel the people; and all this resulted because he wanted to introduce new ordinances and institutions in that City, and was apprehensive that his authority was not enough. And truly there never was any extraordinary institutor of laws among a people who did not have recourse to God, because otherwise he would not have been accepted; for they (these laws) are very well known by prudent men, but which by themselves do not contain evident reasons capable of persuading others. Wise men who want to remove this difficulty, therefore, have recourse to God. Thus did Lycurgus, thus Solon, thus many others who had the same aims as they.

¶ The Roman people, therefore, admiring his (Numa’s) goodness and prudence, yielded to his every decision. It is indeed true that those times were full of Religion, and those men with whom he (Numa) had to work were coarse (which) gave him great facility to pursue his designs, being able easily to impress upon them any new form. And without doubt whoever should want to establish a Republic in the present era, would find it more easy to do so among men of the mountains where there is no civilization, than among those who are used to living in the City, where civilization is corrupt, as a sculptor more easily extracts a beautiful statue from crude marble than of one badly sketched out by others. Considering all this I conclude therefore, that the Religion introduced by Numa was among the chief reasons for the felicity of that City, for it caused good ordinances, good ordinances make good fortune, and from good fortune there arises the happy successes of the enterprises. And as the observance of divine institutions is the cause of the greatness of Republics, so the contempt of it is the cause of their ruin, for where the fear of God is lacking it will happen that that kingdom will be ruined or that it will be sustained through fear of a Prince, which may supply the want of Religion. And because Princes are short lived, it will happen that that Kingdom will easily fall as he (Prince) fails in virtu. Whence it results that Kingdoms which depend solely on the virtu of one man, are not durable for long, because that virtu fails with the life of that man, and it rarely happens that it is renewed in (his) successor, as Dante prudently says:

Rarely there descends from the branches (father to son) Human probity, and this is the will (of the one) who gives it, because it is asked alone from him.

The welfare of a Republic or a Kingdom, therefore, is not in having a Prince who governs prudently while he lives, but one who organizes it in a way that, if he should die, it will still maintain itself. And although crude men are more easily persuaded by new ordinances and opinions, yet it is not impossible because of this to persuade civilized men, (and) who presume themselves not to be crude. The people of Florence did not seem either crude or ignorant, none the less Brother Girolamo Savonarola was persuaded that he talked with God. I do not want to judge whether that was true or not, because one ought not to talk of so great a man except with reverence. But I may well say that an infinite (number) believed him without they having seen anything extraordinary which would make them believe, because his life, the doctrine, the subjects he took up were sufficient to make them have faith. Let no one be dismayed, therefore, if he is not able to attain that which had been attained by others, for men (as was said in our preface) are born, live, and die, always in the same way.

CHAPTER XII

OF HOW MUCH IMPORTANCE SHOULD BE GIVEN RELIGION; AND HOW ITALY, BECAUSE THE MEDIUM OF THE ROMAN CHURCH WAS LACKING, WAS RUINED

Those Princes or those Republics that want to maintain themselves uncorrupted, have above everything else to maintain uncorrupted the servances of Religion, and hold them always in veneration. For no one can have a better indication of the ruin of a province than to see the divine institutions held in contempt. This is easy to understand, when it is known upon what the Religion of the fatherland is founded; for every Religion has the foundation of its existence on some one of its principal institutions. The life of the Gentile Religion was founded upon the responses of the Oracles and upon the tenets of the Augurs and Aruspices; all their other ceremonies, sacrifices, rites, depended on these. For they readily believed that that God who could predict your future good or evil, should also be able to concede it to you. From this arose their temples, their sacrifices, their supplication, and all the other ceremonies venerating him; for the Oracle of Delphi, the Temple of Jupiter Ammon, and other celebrated Oracles kept the world in admiration and devotion. As soon as these began to speak in the manner of the Potentates, and this falsity was discovered by the people, men became incredulous and disposed to disturb every good institution. The Princes of a Republic or a Kingdom ought therefore to maintain their Republic’s religions, and in consequence well and united. And therefore they ought in all things which arise to foster it (even if they should judge them false) to favor and encourage it: and the more prudent they are, and the more they understand natural things, so much more ought they to do this. And because this practice has been observed by wise men, there has arisen the beliefs in the miracles that are celebrated in Religion, however false; for the prudent ones have increased (their importance) from whatever origin they may have derived and their authority gives them credence with the people. There were many of these miracles in Rome, and among others was that (which occurred) when the Roman soldiers were sacking the City of Veienti, some of whom entered the Temple of Juno, and, standing in front of her statue, and saying “WILL YOU COME TO ROME?”, it appeared to some that she had made a sign (of assent), and to others that she had said yes. For these men, being full of Religion, (which T. Livius demonstrated) when they entered the Temple went in without tumult and completely devoted and full of reverence, seemed to hear that response to their question which perhaps they had presupposed: which opinion and belief was favored and magnified by Camillus and by the other Princes of the City.

If the Princes of the Republic had maintained this Christian religion according as it had been established by the founder, the Christian States and Republics would have been more united and much more happy than they are. Nor can any greater conjecture be made of its decline, than to see that those people who are nearer to the Church of Rome, the head of our Religion, have less Religion. And whoever should give consideration to its foundations, and observe how much different present usage is from them, should judge that without doubt her ruin or flagellation (chastisement) is near. And because some are of the opinion that the well-being of Italian affairs depend on the Church of Rome, I want to discuss those reasons against them that occur to me, and I will present two most powerful ones, which according to me are not controvertible. The first is, that by the evil example of that court, this province has lost all devotion and all Religion: so that it brings (with it) infinite troubles and infinite disorders; for where there is Religion every good is presupposed, so too where it is lacking the contrary is presupposed. We Italians therefore have this obligation with the Church and with the Priests of having become bad and without Religion; but we also have a greater one, which is the cause of our ruin. This is that the Church has kept and still keeps this province (country) of ours divided: and Truly any country never was united or happy, except when it gave its obedience entirely to one Republic or one Prince, as has happened to France and Spain. And the reason that Italy is not in the same condition, and is not also governed by one Republic or one Prince, is solely the Church, for having acquired and held temporal Empire, she has not been so powerful or of such virtu that she was able to occupy the rest of Italy and make herself its Prince. And on the other hand, she has not been so weak that the fear of losing her dominion of temporal things has made her unable to call in a power that could defend her against those who had become too powerful in Italy, as was seen anciently by many experiences, when through the medium of Charles the Great she drove out the Lombards who already were the kings of almost all Italy, and when in our times she took away the power of Venetians with the aid of France; afterwards she drove out the French with the aid of the Swiss. The church therefore not being powerful (enough) to occupy Italy, and not having permitted that another should occupy her, has been the cause why she (Italy) has not been able to be united under one head, but has been under so many Princes and Lords, from which there has resulted so much disunion and so much weakness, that she became prey not only to the powerful Barbarians, but to anyone who should assault her. This we other Italians owe to the Church of Rome, and to none others. And anyone who should want to observe the truth of this more readily through experience, should need to be of such great power that he should be sent to live at the Roman Court, with all the power it has in Italy, over the towns of the Swiss, who today are the only People who live accordingly to ancient customs both as far as Religion and military institutions (are concerned) and he would see that in a little time the evil customs of that Court would cause more disorders in that province (country) than could spring up from any other incident in any other time.

CHAPTER XIII

HOW THE ROMANS SERVED THEMSELVES OF RELIGION TO ESTABLISH THE CITY AND TO CARRY OUT THEIR ENTERPRISES AND STOP TUMULTS

And it does not appear to me outside my purpose to refer to some examples where the Romans served themselves of Religion in order to reorganize the City and to further their enterprises. And although there are many in (the writings of) Titus Livius, none the less I want to content myself with these. The Roman people having created the Tribunes with Consular Power, and all but one (selected from the) Plebs, and pestilence and famine having occurred there that year, and certain prodigies coming to pass, the Nobles used this occasion of the creation of the new Tribunes, saying that the Gods were angered because Rome had ill-used the majesty of its Empire, and that there was no other remedy to placate the Gods than by returning the election of the Tribunes to its own (original) place; from which there resulted that the Plebs frightened by this Religion created all the Tribunes from the (class of the) Nobles.

¶ It was also seen at the capture of the City of the Veienti, that the Captains of the armies availed themselves of Religion to keep them disposed to an enterprise, when lake Albano had risen astonishingly that year, and the soldiers being weary from the long siege (and) wanted to return to Rome, the Romans insinuated that Apollo and certain other (oracles) had given replies that that year the City of the Veienti should be captured when Lake Albano should overflow: which event made the soldiers endure the weariness of the war and the siege, being taken by this hope of capturing the town, and they remained content to pursue the enterprise so much that Camillus who had been made Dictator captured that City after it had been besieged for ten years. And thus Religion well used was helpful both in the capture of that City and for the restoration of the Tribuneships to the Nobility, that without the said means either would have been accomplished only with difficulty.

¶ I do not want to miss referring to another example to this purpose. Many tumults had arisen in Rome caused by Terentillus the Tribune, (because of) his wanting to promulgate a certain law for the reasons which will be given in their place below: and among the first remedies that were used by the Nobility was Religion, of which they served themselves in two ways. In the first, they caused the sibylline books to be exhibited, and to give a reply to the City, that through the medium of civil sedition, there was impending that year the danger of (the City) losing its liberty; which thing (although it was discovered by the Tribunes) none the less put so much terror into the breasts of the Plebs that it cooled (their desire) to follow them. The other mode was when one Appius Erdonius with a multitude of bandits and servants numbering four thousand men occupied the Campidoglio (Capitol) by night, so that it was feared that the Equians and Volscians, perpetual enemies of the Roman name, should have come to Rome and attacked her; and the Tribunes because of this did not cease insisting in their pertinacity of promulgating the Terentillan law, saying that that fear was fictitious and not true; (and) one Publius Rubetius, a grave citizen of authority, went out from the Senate, (and) with words partly lovingly and partly menacing, showed them (the people) the danger to the City and the unreasonableness of their demands, so that he constrained the Plebs to swear not to depart from the wishes of the Consul. Whence the Plebs, forced to obey, reoccupied the Campidoglio: but the Consul Publius Valerius being killed in that attack, Titus Quintius was quickly made Consul, who in order not to allow the Plebs to rest, or to give them time to think again of the Terentillan law, commanded them to go out from Rome and go against the Volscians, saying that because of that oath they had taken not to abandon the Consul they were obligated to follow him: to which the Tribunes opposed themselves saying that that oath was given to the dead Consul and not to him. None the less Titus Livius shows that the Plebs for fear of Religion wanted more readily to obey the Consul than believe the Tribunes, saying in favor of the ancient Religion these words: “He feared that the age had not yet come, when the Gods were to be neglected, nor to make interpretations of their oaths and laws to suit themselves.” Because of which thing, the Tribunes, apprehensive of their losing all their liberty, made an accord with the Consul to remain in obedience to him and that for one year there should be no discussion of the Terentillan law and the Consuls, on the other hand, should not draw on the Plebs for war outside (of Rome). And thus Religion enabled the Senate to overcome that difficulty which without it, they could never overcome.

CHAPTER XIV

THE ROMANS INTERPRETED THE AUSPICES ACCORDING TO NECESSITY, AND WITH THEIR PRUDENCE MADE A SHOW OF OBSERVING RELIGION, EVEN WHEN THEY WERE FORCED NOT TO OBSERVE IT, AND IF ANYONE RECKLESSLY DISPARAGED IT THEY PUNISHED HIM

The Auguries not only ((as was discussed above)) were the foundation in good part of the ancient Religion of the Gentiles, but they were also the causes of the well-being of the Roman Republic. Whence the Romans cared more for this than any other institution, and used it in their Consular Comitii, in starting their enterprises, in sending out their armies, in fighting engagements, and in every important activity of theirs, whether civil or military: and they never would go on an expedition unless they had persuaded the soldiers that the Gods promised them the victory. And among the Aruspices there were in the armies certain orders of Aruspices which they called Pollari (guardians of the Sacred Fowls). And anytime they were ordered to fight an engagement with the enemy they desired these Pollari make their Aruspices; and if the fowls pecked away, they fought with a good augury: if they did not peck away, they abstained from battle. None the less, when reason showed them that a thing ought to be done, not withstanding the Aruspices should be adverse, they did it anyway: but then they turned these (aruspices) with conditions and in such a manner so adeptly, that it should not appear they were doing so with disparagement to their Religion: which method was used by Consul Papirus in a most important battle which he waged against the Samnites, which afterward left them entirely weak and afflicted. For Papirus being in the field encountered the Samnites, and as victory in battle appeared certain to him, and because of this wanting to come to an engagement, he commanded the Pollari that they make their Aruspices: but the fowls did not peck away, and the Prince of the Pollari seeing the great disposition of the army to fight and the thoughts to win which were in the Captain and all the soldiers, and in order not to take away this opportunity from the army of doing well, reported to the Consul that the Aruspices were proceeding well, so that Papirus ordered out his squadrons; but some of the Pollari having told certain soldiers that the fowls had not pecked away, they in turn told it to Spurius Papirus nephew of the Consul; and when he reported this to the Consul, he (the Consul) quickly replied that he should attend to doing his duty well, and that as to himself and the army the Aruspices were correct, and if the Pollarius had told a lie, it would come back on him to his prejudice. And so that the result should correspond to the prognostication, he commanded his legates that they should place the Pollari in the front ranks of the battle. Whence it resulted that in going against the enemy, a Roman soldier drawing a dart by chance killed the Prince of the Pollari: which thing becoming known, the Consul said that every thing was proceeding well and with the favor of the Gods, for the army through the death of that liar was purged of every blame and of whatever anger (the Gods) should have had against him. And thus by knowing well how to accommodate his designs to the Aruspices, he (Papirus) took steps to give battle without his army perceiving that he had in any part neglected the institutions of their Religion.

Appius Pulcher acted in a contrary fashion in Sicily in the first Punic war; for wanting to give battle to the Carthaginian army, he caused the Pollari to make Aruspices, and when they reported to him that those fowl did not peck away, he said “Let us see if they would drink,” and had them thrown into the sea: whence that giving battle he lost the engagement; for which he was condemned at Rome, and Papirus honored, not so much for the one having lost and the other having won, but because the one had gone against the Aruspices in a prudent manner, and the other fearfully. Nor did this method of making Aurispices have any other object than to have the soldiers go into battle with confidence, from which confidence almost always victory resulted. Which institution was not only used by the Romans, but by those outsiders; of which it seems to me proper to adduce an example in the following chapter.

CHAPTER XV

HOW THE SAMNITES HAD RECOURSE TO RELIGION AS AN EXTREME REMEDY FOR THE THINGS AFFLICTING THEM

The Samnites having been routed many times by the Romans, and having lastly been defeated in Tuscany, and their armies destroyed and Captains killed, and their allies such as the Tuscans, French (Gauls), and Umbrians having also been defeated, so that “They were not able to continue any longer with their own men or with those from outside, yet would not abstain from the war, and instead of giving up the unsuccessful defense of liberty, they would undertake one more attempt at victory before being overcome”. Whence they decided to make one last try: and since they knew that to want to win it was necessary to induce obstinacy into the courage of the soldiers, and that to induce it there was no better means than Religion, they decided to repeat their ancient sacrifices through the medium of Ovius Paccius their Priest, who arranged it in this form: that a solemn sacrifice being made, (and), in the midst of the slain victims and burning altars make all the heads of the army swear never to abandon the fight; then they summoned the soldiers one by one and in the midst of those altars and surrounded by many centurions with bared swords in their hands, they made them first swear that they would not reveal the things they saw or heard, then with execrable phrases and words full of terror they made them swear and promise the Gods that they would go readily wherever the Emperor should command them, and never to flee in battle, and to kill whomever they should see fleeing; which oath if not observed would be visited on the head of his family and on his descendants. And some of them being frightened, (and) not wanting to swear, were quickly put to death by the centurions: so that the others who followed, terrified by the ferocity of the spectacle, all swore. And in order to make this gathering of theirs more imposing, there being forty thousand men there, they dressed half of them in white clothes with crests and plumes on the helmets, and thus arrayed they took position at Aquilonia: Papirius came against them, who in encouraging his soldiers said, “Those crests cannot inflict wounds, and paint and gilding keep Roman javelins from transfixing shields”. And to weaken the opinion that his soldiers had of the enemy because of the oath they had taken, he said that it (the oath) was to inspire fear, and not courage, in those (who had taken it), for it made them at the same time fear their own Citizens, their Gods, and their enemies. And coming to the fight, the Samnites were defeated; for the virtu of the Romans, and the fear conceived from the past routs overcame whatever obstinacy they were able to assume by virtu of their Religion and by the oath they had taken. None the less it is seen that they (the Samnites) did not appear to have any other refuge, nor try other remedies to be able to revive hope and reestablish their lost virtu. Which fully testifies how much confidence can be obtained by means of Religion well used. And although this part might perhaps be rather placed among affairs of outside (peoples), none the less as this refers to one of the most important institutions of the Republic of Rome, it has appeared to me proper to commit this in this place so as not to divide this material and have to return to it many times.

CHAPTER XVI

A PEOPLE ACCUSTOMED TO LIVING UNDER A PRINCE, IF BY SOME ACCIDENT BECOMES FREE, MAINTAINS ITS LIBERTY WITH DIFFICULTY

Many examples derived from the records of ancient history will show how difficult it is for a people used to living under a Prince to preserve their liberty after they had by some accident acquired it, as Rome acquired it after driving out the Tarquins. And such difficulty is reasonable; because that people is nothing else other than a brute animal, which ((although by nature ferocious and wild)) has always been brought up in prison and servitude, (and) which later being left by chance free in a field, (and) not being accustomed to (obtain) food or not knowing where to find shelter for refuge, becomes prey to the first one who seeks to enchain it again. This same thing happens to a people, who being accustomed to living under governments of others, not knowing to reason either on public defense or offense, not knowing the Princes or being known by them, return readily under a yoke, which often times is more heavy than that which a short time before had been taken from their necks: and they find themselves in this difficulty, even though the people is not wholly corrupt; for a people where corruption has not entirely taken over, cannot but live at all free even for a very brief time, as will be discussed below: and therefore our discussions concern those people where corruption has not expanded greatly, and where there is more of the good than of the bad (spoiled). To the above should be added another difficulty, which is that the state which becomes free makes enemy partisans, and not friendly partisans. All those men become its enemy partisans who avail themselves of the tyrannical state, feeding on the riches of the Prince, (and) who when they are deprived of the faculty of thus availing themselves, cannot live content, and some are forced to attempt to reestablish the tyrancy so as to recover their authority. It does not ((as I have said)) acquire friendly partisans, for a free society bestows honors and rewards through the medium of honest and predetermined rules, and outside of which does not honor or reward anyone; and when one receives those honors and rewards as appears to them he merits, he does not consider he has any obligation to repay them: in addition to this that common usefulness which free society brings with it, is not known by anyone ((while he yet possesses it)), which is to be able to enjoy his own possessions freely without any suspicion, not being apprehensive of the honor of his womenfolk, or that of his children, and not to fear offer himself; for no one will ever confess himself to have an obligation to one who only does not offend him.

Thus ((as was said above)) a free state that has newly sprung up comes to have enemy partisans and not friendly partisans. And wanting to remedy this inconvenience and these disorders which the above mentioned difficulties bring with them, there is no remedy more powerful, nor more valid, healthy, and necessary than (was) the killing of the sons of Brutus, who, as history shows, together with other Roman youths were induced to conspire against their country for no other reason than because they could not obtain extraordinary advantages for themselves under the Consuls as under the Kings; so that the liberty of that people appeared to have become their servitude. And whoever undertakes to govern a multitude either by the way of liberty (Republic) or by the way of a Principate, and does not make sure of those who are enemies of that new institution, establishes a short lived state. It is true that I judge those Princes unfelicitous who, to assure their state when the multitude is hostile, have to take extraordinary means; for he who has only a few enemies can easily and without great scandals make sure of them, but he who has the general public hostile to him can never make sure of them, and the more cruelty he uses, so much more weak becomes his Principate; so that the best remedy he has is to seek to make the People friendly. And although this discussion departs from that written above, in speaking of a Prince here and of a Republic there, none the less in order not to have to return again to this matter I want to speak a little more.

A Prince, therefore, wanting to gain over to himself a people who are hostile to him ((speaking of those Princes who have become Tyrants in their country)), I say that they ought first to look into that which the people desire, and he will find they always desire two things: the one, to avenge themselves against those who are the cause of their slavery: the other, to regain their liberty. The first desire the Prince is able to satisfy entirely, the second in part. As to the first, there is an example in point. When Clearchus, Tyrant of Heraclea, was in exile, a controversy arose between the people and the Nobles of Heraclea, (and) the Nobles seeing themselves inferior, turned to favor Clearchus, and conspiring with him they placed him in opposition to the disposition of the people of Heraclea, and (thus) took away the liberty from the people. So that Clearchus finding himself between the insolence of the Nobles, whom he could not in any way either content or correct, and the rage of the People who could not endure having lost their liberty, he decided suddenly to free himself from the nuisance of the Nobles, and to win the people over to himself. And on this, taking a convenient opportunity, he cut to pieces all the Nobles, to the extreme satisfaction of the People. And thus, in this way, he satisfied one of the desires people had, that is, to avenge themselves. But as to the desire of the people to regain their liberty, the Prince, not being able to satisfy it, ought to examine what are the reasons that make them desire to be free, and he will find that a small part of them desire to be free in order to command, but all the others, who are an infinite number, desire liberty also as to live in security. For in all Republics in whatever manner organized, there are never more than forty or fifty Citizens of a rank to command, and because this number is small, it is an easy matter to assure oneself of them, either by taking them out of the way, or by giving them a part of so many honors as, according to their condition, ought in good part to content them. The others, to whom it is enough to live in security, are easily satisfied by creating institutions and laws which, together with his power, gives realization to the general security of the people. And when a Prince does this, and the people see that no one breaks such laws by accident, they will begin in a very short time to live in security and contentment. In example for this, there is the Kingdom of France, which lives in security from nothing else other than those Kings being bound by an infinite number of laws in which the security of his people is realized. And whoever organized that state wanted that those Kings should do ((in their own way)) with the arms and the money as they wanted, but should not be able to dispose of any other thing otherwise than by the laws that were ordained. That Prince, therefore, or that Republic, that does not secure itself at the beginning of its state, should assure itself at the first opportunity, as the Romans did. And he who should allow this to pass will repent too late of not doing that which he ought to have done. The Roman people, therefore, being not yet corrupted when they recovered their liberty, were able to maintain it, after the sons of Brutus were put to death and the Tarquins destroyed, with all those remedies and institutions which have been discussed at another time. But if that people had been corrupted, there never would have been found valid remedies, in Rome or elsewhere, to maintain it (their liberty), as we shall show in the next chapter.

CHAPTER XVII

A CORRUPT PEOPLE COMING INTO THEIR LIBERTY CAN MAINTAIN ITSELF FREE ONLY WITH THE GREATEST DIFFICULTY

I judge that it was necessary that Kings should be eliminated in Rome, or (else) that Rome would in a very short time become weak and of no valor; for considering to what (degree of) corruption those Kings had come, if it should have continued so for two or three successions, (and) that that corruption which was in them had begun to spread through its members; (and) as the members had been corrupted it was impossible ever again to reform her (the state). But losing the head while the torso was sound, they were able easily to return to a free and ordered society. And it ought to be presupposed as a very true matter that a corrupted City which exists under a Prince, even though that Prince with all his lives (family) may be extinguished, can never become free; and that rather it should happen that one Prince destroy the other, for (these people) will never be settled without the creation of a new Lord, who by his goodness together with his virtu will then keep them free: but that liberty will last only during his life time, as happened at different times in Syracuse to Dion and Timoleon, whose virtu while they lived, kept that City free: but when they died, it returned to the ancient Tyranny. But there is no more striking example to be seen than that of Rome, which after the Tarquins had been driven out, was able quickly to resume and maintain that liberty; but after the death of Caesar, Caligula, and Nero, and after the extinction of all the line of Caesar, she could not only never maintain her liberty, but was unable to reestablish it. And so great a difference in events in the same City did not result from anything else other than (the fact that) the Roman People in the time of Tarquin was not yet corrupt, and in the latter time (Caesar’s) it became very corrupt. For to keep her sound and disposed to keep away from Kings at that time, it was enough to make them swear that they should never consent that any of them should ever reign in Rome; but in the time of the other (Caesar) the authority of Brutus with all the Eastern legions was not enough to keep her disposed to want to maintain that liberty which he, in imitation of the first Brutus, had restored to her. Which resulted from that corruption which the party of Marius had spread among the people, at the head of which was Caesar, who was able so to blind the multitude that they did not recognize the yoke which they themselves were placing on their necks.

And although this example of Rome is to be preferred to any other example, none the less on this proposition I want to refer to people known before our times. I say, therefore, that no incident ((although grave and violent)) can ever restore Milan or Naples to freedom, because those people are entirely corrupt. Which was seen after the death of Filippo Visconti, who, wanting to restore liberty to Milan, did not know how and could not maintain it. It was therefore a great good fortune for Rome that no sooner had these Kings become corrupt than they were driven out, and that before their corruption should pass into the vitals of that City; which corruption was the cause of the infinite tumults which took place in Rome ((men having good intentions)) (and which) did no harm, but rather benefited the Republic. And this conclusion can be drawn, that where the people is not corrupted, tumults and other troubles do no harm; but where corruption exists, well ordered laws are of no benefit, unless they are administered by one who, with extreme strength, will make them be observed until the people become good (cured); I do not know if this ever happened, or whether it be possible that it could happen; for it is seen ((as I have said a little above)) that a City coming to decadence because of the corruption of its people, if it ever happens that she is raised up again, it happens through the virtu of one man who is then living, and not by the virtu of the general public, that the good institutions are sustained: and as soon as such a one is dead, they will return to their pristine habits, as happened at Thebes, which by the virtu of Epaminondas, while he was alive, was able to maintain the form of a Republic and Empire, but after his death returned to its first disorders: the reason is this, that one man cannot live so long that the time will be enough to bring a City back to good habits which for a long time has had evil habits. And if one of very long life or two continuous successors of virtu do not restore it (the state), so one which lacks them ((as was said above)) is quickly ruined, unless it should be made to be restored through many dangers and much bloodshed. For such corruption and little inclination for a free society result from an inequality that exists in that City; and wanting to bring them to equality, it is necessary to use the most extraordinary means, which few know or want to use, as will be described in more detail in another place.

CHAPTER XVIII

IN WHAT WAY IN A CORRUPT CITY A FREE STATE CAN BE MAINTAINED, IF THERE IS ONE THERE, OR IF NOT, HOW TO ESTABLISH IT

I believe it is not outside the purpose of this discussion, nor too distant from that written above, to consider whether a free State can be maintained in a City that is corrupted, or, if there had not been one, to be able to establish one. On this matter I say that it is very difficult to do either one or the other: and although it is almost impossible to give rules ((because it will be necessary to proceed according to the degrees of corruption)), none the less, as it is well to discuss every thing, I do not want to omit this. And I will presuppose a City very corrupt, where such difficulties come to rise very fast, as there are found there neither laws or institutions that should be enough to check a general corruption. For as good customs have need of laws for maintaining themselves, so the laws, to be observed, have need of good customs. In addition to this, the institutions and laws made in a Republic at its origin when men were good, are not afterward more suitable, when they (men) have become evil. And if laws vary according to circumstances and events in a City, its institutions rarely or never vary: which results in the fact that new laws are not enough, for the institutions that remain firm will corrupt it. And in order to make this part better understood, I will tell how the Government was established in Rome, or rather the State, and the laws with which afterwards the Magistrates restrained the Citizens. The institution of the State included the authority of the People, the Senate, thy Tribunes, the Consuls, method of seeking and creating Magistrates, and the method of making laws. These institutions were rarely or never varied by events. The laws that restrained the Citizens varied, such as was the law of the Adulterers, the Sumptuary, that of Ambition, and many others, according as the Citizens from day to day became corrupt. But the institutions of the State becoming firm, although no longer good for the corrupt (people), those laws that were changed were not enough to keep men good, but would have been of benefit if with the changes of the law the institutions should have been modified.

And that it is true that such institutions in a City that had become corrupt were not good, is expressly seen in these two principal points. As to the creation of the Magistracies and the laws, the Roman People did not give the Consulship and other high offices of the City, except to those who asked for them. In the beginning these institutions were good because no one asked for these (offices) except those Citizens who judged themselves worthy, and having a refusal was ignominious: so that in order to judge himself worthy every one worked well. However, this system became pernicious in a corrupt City, for it was not those who had more virtu, but those who had more power, who asked for the Magistracies, and the less powerful ((no matter of how much virtu)) abstained from asking from fear. This evil did not come on suddenly, but by degrees, as happens with all other evils: for the Romans having subjugated Africa and Asia, and reduced almost all of Greece to their obedience, had become assured of their liberty, nor did they seem to have more enemies who should give them fear. This security, and this weakness of her enemies, caused the Roman people no longer to regard virtu in bestowing the Consulship, but graciousness, drawing to that dignity those who knew better how to handle men, not to those who knew better how to conquer their enemies: afterwards they descended from those who had more graciousness to give it to those who had more power. So that because of the defects of such institutions, the good were entirely excluded from everything. A Tribune or some other Citizen could propose a law to the people on which every Citizen could speak in favor or against it before it should be adopted. This institution was good when the Citizens were good, for it was always well that anyone who intended some good for the public was able to propose it, and it was well that everyone could speak his thoughts on it, so that the people, having listened to all sides, could then select the best. But when the Citizens had become bad such institutions became the worst, for only the powerful proposed laws, (and) not for the common liberty, but for their own power, and everyone for fear of them was not able to speak against them: so that the people came to be deceived or forced into deciding their own ruin.

It was necessary, therefore, if Rome wanted to maintain herself free in her corruption, that she should have made new institutions, just as she had made new laws in the process of her existence, for other institutions and modes of living ought to be established in a bad people as well as in a good one, nor can the form be the same in a people entirely different. But because these institutions when they are suddenly discovered no longer to be good have to be changed either completely, or little by little as each (defect) is known, I say that both of these two courses are almost impossible. For in the case of wanting to change little by little a prudent man is required who sees this evil from a distance and at its beginning. It is easily probable that no one such as these springs up in a City: and even if one should spring up he is never able to persuade others of that which he intends; for men living in one manner, do not want to change, and the more so as they do not see the evil face to face, but being shown to them as (mere) conjecture.

As to changing these institutions all at once when everyone recognizes they are not good, I say that the defect which is easily recognized is difficult to correct, for to do this it is not enough to use ordinary means, as ordinary means are bad, but it is necessary to come to the extraordinary, such as violence and arms, and before anything else to become Prince of that City, and to be able to dispose of it as he pleases. And as the re-organization of the political life of a City presupposes a good man, and the becoming of a Prince of a Republic by violence presupposes a bad man; for because of this it will be found that it rarely happens that a (good) men wants to become Prince through bad means, even though his objectives be good; or that a bad one, having become Prince, wants to work for good and that it should enter his mind to use for good that authority which he had acquired by evil means. From all the things written above, arises the difficulty or impossibility of maintaining a Republic in a City that has become corrupted, or to establish it there anew. And even if it should have to be created or maintained, it would be necessary to reduce it more to a Royal State (Monarchy) than to a Popular State (Republic), so that those men who because of their insolence cannot be controlled by laws, should be restrained by a Power almost Regal. And to want to make them become good by other means would be either a most cruel enterprise or entirely impossible; as I said above this is what Cleomenes did, who for wanting to be alone (in the Government) killed the Ephors, and if Romulus for the same reasons killed his brother and Titus Tatius, the Sabine, and afterwards they used their authority well, none the less, it ought to be noted that one and the other of these men did not have their subjects stained with that corruption of which we have discussed in this chapter, and therefore they could desire (good), and desiring it, conform their designs accordingly.

CHAPTER XIX

A WEAK PRINCE WHO SUCCEEDS AN EXCELLENT PRINCE CAN BE MAINTAINED, BUT ANY KINGDOM CANNOT BE MAINTAINED IF A WEAK ONE IS SUCCEEDED BY ANOTHER WEAK ONE

In considering the virtu and the mode of proceeding of Romulus, of Numa, and of Tullus, the first three Kings of Rome, it will be seen that Rome was favored by the greatest good fortune, having the first King most ferocious and warlike, the next quiet and religious, the third similar in ferocity to Romulus, and a greater lover of war than of peace. For it was necessary in Rome that in the beginning there should spring up an Organizer of civil institutions, but it then indeed was necessary that the other Kings should reassume the virtu of Romulus, otherwise that City would have become effeminate and prey to her neighbors. Whence it can be noted that a successor not having as much virtu as the first, is able to maintain a State which was erected by that man before him and can enjoy his labors; but if it happens either that his life is a long one, or that after him there should not spring up another who should reassume the virtu of the first one, that Kingdom of necessity will be ruined. And so, on the contrary, if two, one after the other, are of great virtu, it will often be seen that they achieve most great things and that they will rise with their fame to the heavens. David without doubt was a man most excellent in arms, in doctrine, and in judgment, and so great was his virtu, that having conquered and beaten down all his neighbors, he left a peaceful Kingdom to this son Solomon, which he was able to preserve with the arts of peace and of war, and he was able happily to enjoy the virtu of his father. But he could not thus leave it to his son Rehoboam, who not being like his grandfather in virtu, or like his father in fortune, remained heir to the sixth part of the Kingdom only with great effort. Bajazet, Sultan of the Turks, although he was more a lover of peace than of war, was able to enjoy the efforts of his father Mahomet, who having like David beaten his neighbors, left him a firm Kingdom and capable of being preserved easily with the arts of peace. But if his own son Soliman, the present lord, had been like his father and not his grandfather, that Kingdom would have been ruined: but it was seen that this man was to surpass the glory of his grandfather.

I say, therefore, through these examples, that it is possible for a weak Prince succeeding an excellent one to preserve any Kingdom, even if it should not be as that of France, which is maintained by its ancient institutions: and those Princes are weak who are not able to endure war. I conclude, therefore, with this discussion that the virtu of Romulus was so great, that it was able to give time to Numa Pompilius to be able to rule Rome with the arts of peace; but he was succeeded by Tullus, who by his ferocity reassumed the reputation of Romulus; after whom there followed Ancus, so gifted by nature that he was able to use peace and endure war. And first he addressed himself to want to hold the ways of peace, but he soon knew that his neighbors judging him effeminate esteemed him little, so that he decided that if he wanted to maintain Rome he needed to turn to war and imitate Romulus, and not Numa. Let all the Princes who have a State take example from this, that he who imitates Numa may keep it (the State) or not keep it, according as the times and fortune may turn his way; but he who imitates Romulus, and is like him armed with prudence and weapons, will keep it in any case, unless it is taken from him by an obstinate (and) excessive force. And certainly it can be though that, if Rome had not by chance had as her third King a man who had not known how to recover with arms her reputation, she would never then have been able, except with the greatest difficulty, to gain a foothold, nor to achieve the results that she did. And thus as long as she lived under Kings, she was subject to these dangers of being ruined under a weak or bad King.

CHAPTER XX

TWO CONTINUOUS SUCCESSIONS OF PRINCES OF VIRTU ACHIEVE GREAT RESULTS; AND THAT WELL ORGANIZED REPUBLICS OF NECESSITY HAVE SUCCESSIONS OF VIRTU; THEREFORE THEIR ACQUISITIONS AND EXPANSIONS ARE GREAT

After Rome had driven out her Kings, she was no longer exposed to those perils which were mentioned above, resulting from a succession of weak or bad Kings; for the highest (authority) was vested in the Consuls, who came to that Empire not by heredity or deceit or violent ambition, but by free suffrage, and were always most excellent men, from whose virtu and fortune Rome had benefited from time to time, (and) was able to arrive at her ultimate greatness in as many years as she had existed under her Kings. For it is seen that two continuous successions of Princes of virtu are sufficient to acquire the world, as was (the case of) Philip of Macedonia and Alexander the Great. A Republic ought to be able to do so much more, having the means of electing not only two successions, but an infinite number of Princes of great virtu who are successors one after the other: which succession of virtu is always well established in every Republic.

CHAPTER XXI

HOW MUCH BLAME THAT PRINCE AND REPUBLIC MERIT WHO LACK THEIR OWN ARMS

Present Princes and modern Republics, who lack their own soldiers in regard to defense and offense, ought to be ashamed of themselves and to think from the example of Tullus that such a defect exists not because of the lack of men suitable for the military, but that by their own fault they have not known how to make soldiers of their men. For Tullus, after Rome had been at peace forty years, did not find a man ((when he succeeded to the Kingdom)) who had ever been in war. None the less, planning to make war, he did not think of availing himself of the Samnites, or of the Tuscans, or of others who were accustomed to bear arms, but as a most prudent man decided to avail himself of his own people: And such was his virtu that he was able quickly to make excellent soldiers under his own government. And there is nothing more true than that (truth), if there are no soldiers where there are men, this results from the defect of the Prince, and not from any local or natural defect: of which there is a very recent example: For everyone knows that in recent times the King of England assaulted the kingdom of France, and did not take as soldiers any other than his own people: and because that Kingdom had been for more than thirty years without making war, he did not have either soldiers or a Captain who had ever fought: none the less, he did not hesitate with them to assault a Kingdom full of Captains and good armies, which had been continually under arms in the wars in Italy. All of which resulted from that King being a prudent man and that Kingdom well organized, that in time of peace did not neglect the arrangements of war. The Thebans, Pelopidas and Epaminondas, after having liberated Thebes, and rescued her from the servitude of the Spartan Empire, finding themselves in a City accustomed to servitude, and in the midst of an effeminate people, did not hesitate ((so great was their virtu)) to put them under arms and with them go to meet the Spartan armies in the field and conquered them: and whoever writes says, that these two in a short time showed that men of war were born not only in Lacedemonia, but in every other place where men are born, as long as there was to be found one man who should know how to train them in military service, as is seen (in the case) of Tullus who knew how to train the Romans. And Virgil could not express this thought better, and with other words shows how he adhered to that, when he said: “And Tullus made of These men soldiers”.

CHAPTER XXII

WHAT IS TO BE NOTED IN THE CASE OF THE THREE ROMAN HORATII AND OF THE THREE ALBAN CURATII

Tullus, King of Rome, and Metius, King of Alba, agreed that that people should be lord of those whose above mentioned three men should overcome (those of) the others. All the Alban Curatii were killed, (and) there remained only one of the Roman Horatii alive, and because of this Metius, King of the Albans, with his subjects, remained subject to the Romans. And when that Horatius returned as conqueror to Rome, meeting his sister who was married to one of the three dead Curatii, and who was weeping over the death of her husband, he killed her. Whence that Horatius, because of this crime, was placed on trial and after much deliberation was freed, more because of thy prayers of his father than because of his own merits. Here three things are to be noted. One, that one should never risk all his fortune with only part of his forces. Next, that in a well organized City, the demerits (crimes) are never rewarded with merits. The third, that proceedings are never wise where one ought to be doubtful of their observance. For being in servitude means much to a City, that it ought never to be believed that any of those Kings or of those People should be content that three of their Citizens should make them subject, as is seen Metius wanted to do, who although immediately after the victory of the Romans confessed himself conquered and promised obedience to Tullus, none the less, in the first expedition in which they were to come against the Veienti, it is seen that he sought to deceive them, as one who sees too late the imprudence of the proceeding undertaken by him. And because this third point has been talked about much, we will talk only of the other two in the following two chapters.

CHAPTER XXIII

THAT ONE OUGHT NOT TO PUT IN PERIL ALL HIS FORTUNE AND ALL HIS FORCES; AND BECAUSE OF THIS THE GUARDING OF PASSES IS OFTEN HARMFUL

It was never judged (to be) a wise proceeding to put into peril all of one’s fortune or all of one’s forces. This may be done in many ways. One is to do as Tullus and Metius did when they committed all the fortune of their country and the virtu of so many men, as both of these had in their armies, to the virtu and fortune of three of their Citizens, which came to be only a minimum part of the forces of each of them. Nor did they see that because of this proceeding all the labors that their ancestors had endured in the establishment of the Republic in order to have it exist free a long time, and to make her Citizens defenders of their liberty, were as it were made in vain, it being in the power of so few to lose it. Which action (on the part) of those Kings could not be considered worse. This error is also almost always committed by those who ((seeing the enemy)) plan to hold different places and guard the passes. For almost always this decision will be damaging unless you can thus conveniently keep all your forces (there) in that difficult place. In this case such a procedure is to be taken: but being in a rugged place and not being able to keep all your forces there, the procedure is damaging. I am made to think thusly by the example of those who, when they are assaulted by a powerful enemy, and their country being surrounded by mountains and rugged places, never tried to combat the enemy in the passes and in the mountains, but have gone out to meet them in front of these, or when they did not wish to do that, have awaited him behind these mountains in easy and not-rugged places. And the reason was, as it were, as alleged before; for many men cannot be brought to the guarding of rugged places, not only because it is not possible to live there a long time, but also because being in narrow places capable of (admitting) only a few, it is not possible to sustain an enemy who comes in a large body to hurl himself at you: And it is easy for the enemy to come in large numbers, because his intention is to pass and not stop, while to him who awaits him (the enemy) it is impossible to wait with large numbers, having to quarter himself for a longer time ((not knowing when the enemy may attempt to pass)) in narrow and sterile places, as I have said. Having therefore lost that pass that you had presupposed to hold, and in which your people and the army had trusted, there will very often enter in the people and the rest of the forces so much terror that, without being able to test the virtu of those remaining, they are lost; and thus you have lost all your fortune with only part of your forces.

Everyone knows with how much difficulty Hannibal crossed the Alps which divide Lombardy from France, and with how much difficulty he crossed those which divide Lombardy from Tuscany; none the less, the Romans awaited him first on the Ticino and afterwards on the plains of Arezzo; and they wanted rather that their army should be consumed by the enemy in places where they themselves could conquer, than to lead it over the Alps to be destroyed by the malignity of the site. And whoever reads all the histories attentively will find very few Captians of virtu to have held similar passes and for the reasons mentioned, and because they cannot close them all, the mountains being like the fields and having roads not only well known and frequented, but many other which, if not known to outsiders, are well known to the people of the country, with whose aid you will always be brought to any place against the wishes of whoever opposes you. Of this a most recent example in the year one thousand five hundred fifteen (1515) can be cited. When Francis King of France planned to cross into Italy in order to recover the State of Lombardy, the greater foundation of those who opposed his enterprise was that the Swiss would stop him in the mountain passes. And as was seen from this experience, that foundation of theirs was vain, for that King, leaving aside two or three places guarded by them (Swiss), came by another unknown road, and was already in Italy before they were aware of it. So that, frightened, they retreated to Milan, and all the people of Lombardy adhered to the French forces, having been proved wrong in their opinion that the French would be held in the mountains.

CHAPTER XXIV

WELL ORGANIZED REPUBLICS ESTABLISH REWARDS AND PENALTIES FOR THEIR CITIZENS, BUT NEVER COMPENSATE ONE (AT THE EXPENSE) OF THE OTHER

The merits of Horatius had been very great, having by his virtu conquered the Curatii. None the less such a homicide displeased the Romans so much, that he was brought to trial for his life, notwithstanding that his merits were so great and so recent. Which thing, to whoever should consider it only superficially, would seem to be an example of the ingratitude of the people. None the less, whoever should examine it closer, and with better consideration will look for what the orders of the Republic ought to be, will blame that people rather for having absolved him than for having wanted to condemn him: and the reason is this, that no well-ordered Republic ever cancels the misbehavior of its citizens by their merits; and having rewarded one for having acted well, if that same one afterwards acts badly, it castigates him without having regard to any of his good actions. And if these orders are well observed, a City will exist free for a long time; if otherwise, it will quickly be ruined. For if to a citizen who has done some eminent work for the City, there is added to his reputation of that which he acquired, and audacity and confidence of being able to do some wrong without fear of punishment, he will in a short time become so insolent as to put an end to all civil law. But wanting that the punishment for evil actions be feared, it is very necessary to observe rewarding good, as is seen was done by Rome. And although a Republic may be poor and can give only a little, it ought not to abstain from giving that little, because every little gift given to someone in recompense for a good deed, no matter how big (the deed), will always be esteemed very greatly by whoever receives it as an honorable thing. And the history of Horatius Codes and that of Mutius Scaevola are well known; how one held back the enemy on a bridge until it was cut, (and) the other burned his hand having erred in wanting to murder Porsenna, King of the Tuscans. For these two eminent deeds two measures of land were given to each of those men by the public. The history of Manlius Capitolinus is also well known. For having saved the Campidoglio from the Gauls who were besieging it, this man was given a small measure of flour by those who had been besieged inside with him, which reward ((according to the value that was then current in Rome)) was great and of quality; (but) when Manlius afterward, either from envy or from his evil nature, moved to raise up sedition in Rome, and seeking to gain over the People to himself, he was, without regard to any of his merits, thrown precipituously from that Campidoglio which he had previously with so much glory saved.

CHAPTER XXV

WHOEVER WANTS TO REFORM AN ANCIENT STATE INTO A FREE CITY, SHOULD RETAIN AT LEAST A SHADOW OF THE ANCIENT FORMS

He who desires or wants to reform the State (Government) of a City, and wishes that it may be accepted and capable of maintaining itself to everyone’s satisfaction, it is necessary for him at least to retain the shadow of ancient forms, so that it does not appear to the people that the institutions have been changed, even though in fact the new institutions should be entirely different from the past ones: for the general mass of men are satisfied with appearances, as if it exists, and many times are moved by the things which appear to be rather than by the things that are. The Romans knew this necessity in the beginning of their free existence, (and) for this reason, had in place of one King created two Consuls, (and) did not want them to have more than twelve Lictors so as not to exceed the number that ministered to the Kings. In addition to this, an annual sacrifice was made in Rome, which could not be done except by the King in person, and as the Romans wishing that the People should not desire any of the ancient things because of the absence of the King, created a chief for the said sacrifice, whom they called the King of sacrifice, and placed him under the high priest. So that the people through this means came to be satisfied with that sacrifice and never to have reason, for lack of them, to desire the return of the King. And this ought to be observed by all those who want to abolish an ancient (system of) living in a City and bring it to a new and more liberal (system of) living. For as new things disturb the minds of men, you ought to endeavor that these changes retain as much as possible of the ancient (forms); and if the magistrates change both in number and in authority and in duration (of term) from the ancients, the names at least ought to be retained. And this ((as I have said)) ought to be preserved by whoever wants to organize an absolute power into a Republic or a Kingdom; but he who wants to establish an absolute power, which by authors is called a Tyranny, ought to change everything, as will be mentioned in the following chapter.

CHAPTER XXVI

A NEW PRINCE IN A CITY OR PROVINCE TAKEN BY HIM OUGHT TO ORGANIZE EVERYTHING ANEW

Whoever becomes Prince either of a City or a State, and more so if his foundations are weak, and does not want to establish a civil system either in the form of a Kingdom or a Republic, (will find) the best remedy he has to hold that Principality is ((he being a new Prince)) to do everything anew in that State; such as in the City to make new Governors with new titles, with new authority, with new men, (and) make the poor rich, as David did when he became King, who piled good upon the needy, and dismissed the wealthy empty-handed. In addition to this he should build new Cities, destroy old ones, transfer the inhabitants from one place to another, and in sum, not to leave anything unchanged in that Province, (and) so that there should be no rank, nor order, nor status, nor riches, that he who obtains it does not recognize it as coming from him; he should take as his model Philip of Macedonia, father of Alexander, who, by these methods, from a petty King became Prince of Greece. And those who write of him tell how be transferred men from Province to Province, as the Mandrians (Shepherds) move their sheep. These methods are most cruel and hostile to every system of living, not only Christian, but human, and should be avoided by every man; and he should want rather to live as a private individual than as a King at the (expense of the) ruin of men. None the less, he who does not want to take up the first path of good, must, if he wants to maintain himself, follow the latter path of evil. But men take up certain middle paths which are most harmful, for they do not know how to be entirely good or entirely bad, as the following chapter will show by example.

CHAPTER XXVII

VERY RARELY DO MEN KNOW HOW TO BE ENTIRELY GOOD OR ENTIRELY BAD

When Pope Julius II in the year one thousand five hundred and five (1505) went to Bologna to drive the house of Bentivogli out of that State, of which they had held the Principate (of that State) for a hundred years, he wanted also to remove Giovanpagolo Baglioni from Perugia, of which he was Tyrant, (and) to be the one who planned to eliminate all the Tyrants who were occupying the lands of the Church. And having arrived at Perugia with this purpose and decision known to everyone, he did not wait to enter in that City with his army that was protecting him, but entered unarmed, notwithstanding that Giovanpagolo was inside with large forces that he had gathered for defense. And thus, brought by that fury which governed all his actions, with only his simple guard he placed himself in the hands of the enemy, whom he then carried off with him, leaving a governor in that City who should administer it for the Church. The temerity of the Pope and the cowardice of Giovanpagolo were noted by the prudent men who were with the Pope, nor could they understand whence it happened that he (Baglioni) did not with his perpetual fame attack his enemy at once and enrich himself with booty, there being with the Pope all the Cardinals with their valuables. Nor could it be believed that he abstained either from goodness or that his conscience restrained him; for no regard of piety could enter in the heart of a riotous man, who had kept his sister, and had put to death his cousins and nephews in order that he could reign there: but it is concluded that men do not know how to be entirely bad or perfectly good, and that when an evil has some greatness in it or is generous in any part, they do not know how to attempt it. Thus Giovanpagolo, who did not mind being publicly (called) incestuous and a parricide, did not know how, or to say more correctly, did not dare ((even having a justifiable opportunity)) to make an enterprise where everyone would have admired his courage and which would have left an eternal memory of himself, being the first who would have shown the Prelates how little esteemed are they who live and reign as they do, and would have done an act, the greatness of which would have overcome every infamy and every danger that could have resulted from it.

CHAPTER XXVIII

FOR WHAT REASONS THE ROMANS WERE LESS UNGRATEFUL TO THEIR CITIZENS THAN THE ATHENIANS

Whoever reads of the things done by Republics will find in all of them some species of ingratitude against their citizens, but he will find less in Rome than in Athens, and perhaps in any other Republic. And in seeking the reasons for this, speaking of Rome and Athens, I believe it was because the Romans had less reason to suspect their citizens than did the Athenians. For in Rome ((discussing the time from the expulsion of the Kings up to Sulla and Marius)) liberty was never taken away from any of its citizens, so that in that (City) there was no great reason to be suspicious of them, and consequently (no cause) to offend them inconsiderately. The very contrary happened in Athens, for her liberty having been taken away by Pisistratus in her most florid time and under the deception of goodness, so soon then as she became free, remembering the injuries received and her past servitude, she became a harsh avenger not only of the errors of her citizens, but even the shadow of them. From which resulted the exile and death of so many excellent men: From this came the practice of ostracism and every other violence which that City at various times took up against her Nobility. And it is very true what these writers say of that Civil Society, that when they have recovered their liberty, they sting their people more severely than when they have preserved it. Whoever would consider, therefore, what has been said, will not blame Athens for this, nor praise Rome, but he will blame only the necessity resulting from the difference of events which occurred in those Cities. For whoever will consider things carefully, will see that if Rome had had her liberty taken away as it was in Athens, Rome would not have been any more merciful toward her citizens than was the latter. From which a very real conjecture can be made of that which occurred after the expulsion of the Kings against Collatinus and Publius Valerius, of whom the first ((although he was found in liberating Rome)) was sent into exile for no other reason than for having the name of the Tarquins, and the other having only given suspicion by building a house on Mount Celius, was also made to be an exile. So that it can be judged ((seeing how severe Rome was in these two suspicions)) that she would have been ungrateful as Athens was, if she had been offended by her citizens as she was in her early times and before her expansion. And so as not to have to return again to this matter of ingratitude, I shall say that which will occur in the following chapter.

CHAPTER XXIX

WHICH IS MORE UNGRATEFUL, A PEOPLE OR A PRINCE

It appears to me apropos of the above written matter to discuss with example who practiced this ingratitude more, a People or a Prince. And to discuss this part further, I say that this vice of ingratitude arises either from avarice or from suspicion: For when a People or a Prince has sent out one of its Captains on an important expedition, where that Captain ((having won)) has acquired great glory, that People or that Prince is bound in turn to reward him: and if in place of a reward they, moved by avarice, either dishonor or offend him, not wanting ((held back by this cupidity)) to take the trouble, they make an error that has no excuse, but will leave behind for them an eternal infamy. Yet many Princes are found who err in this way. And Cornelius Tacitus tells the reason in this sentence; An injury is more apt to be repaid than a benefit, where gratitude is onerous and exultation is had in revenge. But when they do not reward one; or ((to say it better)) they offend one, moved not by avarice, but by suspicion, then both the People and Prince merit some excuse. And much is read of this ingratitude shown for such reasons, for that Captain who by his virtu has conquered an Empire for his Lord, overcoming the enemy and filling himself with glory and his soldiers with riches, of necessity acquires so much reputation with his soldiers, with his enemies, and with the Prince’s very own subjects, that that victory can be distasteful to that Lord who had sent him. And because the nature of men is ambitious and suspicious, and puts no limits on the fortune of anyone, it is not impossible that the suspicion which is suddenly aroused in the Prince after the victory of his captain, may not by itself have been increased by some of his actions or expressions made insolently. So that the Prince cannot think otherwise than to secure himself: and to do this thinks of either having him die or taking away from him that reputation which he gained among his army and the people, and with all industry show that the victory was not due to the virtu of that (Captain), but by chance and cowardice of the enemy, or by the wisdom of other Captains who had been with him in that action.

After Vespasian, while in Judea, was declared Emperor by his army, Antonius Primus, who was to be found with another army in Illyria, took his side, and came into Italy against Vitellius who reigned in Rome, and with the greatest virtu routed two armies of Vitellius and occupied Rome, so that through the virtu of Antonius, Mutianus, who had been sent by Vespasian, found everything achieved and all difficulties overcome. The reward which Antonius received was that Mutianus took away from him the command of the army, and little by little reduced his authority in Rome to nothing: so that Antonius went to find Vespasian who was yet in Asia, by whom he was received in such a fashion, that in a brief time, having been reduced to no rank, died almost in despair. And histories are full of such examples.

In our own times anyone now living knows with what industry and virtu Gonsalvo Ferrante, fighting in the Kingdom of Naples for Ferrando King of Aragon against the French, had conquered and won that Kingdom, and was rewarded for his victory by Ferrando, who departed from Aragon and came to Naples, where he first took away from him the command of the armed forces, then took away from him the fortresses, and then took him with him to Spain, where in a short time he died unhonored.

And this suspicion, therefore, is so natural in Princes that they cannot defend themselves against them, and it is impossible for them to show gratitude toward those who, by victory under their ensigns, have made great conquest. And if a Prince cannot defend himself from them, is it not a miracle or something worthy of greater consideration, that a people does not also defend itself; for a City which exists free has two objectives, one conquering, the other maintaining itself free, and it happens that because of excessive love for both of these it makes errors. As to the errors made in conquering, they will be spoken of in their proper place. As to the errors made in maintaining itself free, among others they are those of offending those Citizens whom it ought to reward, and of having suspicion of those in whom it ought to have confidence. And although these things in a Republic already corrupted cause great evils, and which many times rather leads to tyranny, as happened in Rome under Caesar who took by force that which ingratitude denied him, none the less in a Republic not yet corrupted they are the cause of great good, and make for a longer free existence, maintaining itself because the fear of punishment makes men better and less ambitious.

It is true that among all the people who ever had an Empire for reasons discussed above, Rome was the least ungrateful, for it can be said there is no other example of her ingratitude than that of Scipio; for Coriolanus and Camillus were both made exiles because of the injuries that the one and the other had inflicted on the Plebs: But he one was never pardoned for having always preserved a hostile spirit against the People: the other was not only recalled (from exile), but for the rest of his life was adored as a Prince. But the ingratitude shown to Scipio arose from a suspicion that the Citizens begun to have of him that was never had of others, which (suspicion) arose from the greatness of the enemy that Scipio conquered, from the reputation which that victory in such a long and perilous war had given him, from the rapidity of it, from the favor which his youth, his prudence, and his other memorable virtues had acquired for him. These were so many, that for no other reason, the Magistrates of Rome feared his authority, which displeased intelligent men as something unheard of in Rome. And his manner of living appeared so extraordinary that Cato the elder, reputed a saint, was the first to go against him, and to say that a City could not be called free where there was a Citizen who was feared by the Magistrates. So that if the people of Rome in this case followed the opinion of Cato, they merit the excuse that I said above was merited by those People and those Princes who, because of suspicion, are ungrateful. Concluding this discourse, therefore, I say that using this vice of ingratitude for either avarice or suspicion, it will be seen that the People never use it from avarice, and from suspicion much less than do Princes, having less reason for suspicion, as will be told below.

CHAPTER XXX

WHAT MEANS A PRINCE OR A REPUBLIC OUGHT TO USE TO AVOID THIS VICE OF INGRATITUDE, AND WHAT THAT CAPTAIN OR THAT CITIZEN OUGHT TO DO SO AS NOT TO BE TOUCHED BY IT

A Prince, to avoid the necessity of having to live with suspicion or to be ungrateful, ought to go on his expeditions in person, as those Roman Emperors did in the beginning, as does the Turk in our times, and as those of virtu have done and still do. For winning, the glory and the conquests are all theirs: and when they do not ((the glory belonging to others)) it does not appear to them to be able to use that conquest unless they extinguish that glory in others which they have not known how to gain for themselves, and to become ungrateful and unjust is without doubt more to their loss than to their gain. But when either through negligence or little prudence they remain idle at home and send a Captain, I have no precept to give them, then, other than that which they know by themselves. But I will say to that Captain, judging that he will not be able to escape the stings of ingratitude, that he must do one of two things: either immediately after the victory he must leave the army and place himself in the hands of the Prince, guarding himself from any insolent and ambitious act, so that he (the Prince) despoiled of every suspicion has reason either to reward him or not to offend him, or if he does not please to do this, to take boldly the contrary side, and take all those means through which he believed that that conquest is his very own and not of his Prince, obtaining for himself the good will of his soldiers and of the subjects, and must make new friendships with his neighbors, occupy the fortresses with his men, corrupt the Princes (Leaders) of his army, and assure himself of those he cannot corrupt, and by these means seek to punish his Lord for that ingratitude that he showed toward him. There are no other ways: but ((as was said above)) men do not know how to be all bad, or all good. And it always happens that immediately after a victory, he (a Captain) does not want to leave his army, is not able to conduct himself modestly, does not know how to use forceful ends (and) which have in themselves something honorable. So that being undecided, between the delays and indecision, he is destroyed.

As to a Republic wishing to avoid this vice of ingratitude, the same remedy cannot be given as that of a Prince; that is, that it cannot go and not send others on its expeditions, being necessitated to send one of its Citizens. It happens, therefore, that as a remedy, I would tell them to keep to the same means that the Roman Republic used in being less ungrateful than others: which resulted from the methods of its government, for as all the City, both the Nobles and Ignobles (Plebeians) devoted themselves to war, there always sprung up in Rome in every age so many men of virtu and adorned with various victories, that the People did not have cause for being apprehensive of any of them, there being so many and one guarding another. And thus they maintained themselves wholesome and careful not to show any shadow of ambition, nor give reason to the People to harm them as ambitious men; and if they came to the Dictatorship, that greater glory derived rather from their laying it down. And thus, not being able by such methods to generate suspicion, they did not generate ingratitude. So that a Republic that does not want to have cause to be ungrateful ought to govern as Rome did, and a Citizen who wants to avoid its sting ought to observe the limits observed the limits observed by the Roman Citizens.

CHAPTER XXXI

THAT ROMAN CAPTAINS WERE NEVER EXTRAORDINARILY PUNISHED FOR ERRORS COMMITTED; NOR WERE THEY YET PUNISHED WHEN, BY THEIR IGNORANCE OR BAD PROCEEDINGS UNDERTAKEN BY THEM, HARM ENSUED TO THE REPUBLIC

The Romans were ((as we discussed above)) not only less ungrateful than other Republics, but were even more merciful and considerate in punishing their Captains of the armies than any other. For if their error had been from malice, they castigated them humanely: if it was through ignorance, they did not punish them but rewarded and honored them. This manner of proceeding was well considered by them, for they judged that it was of great importance to those who commanded their armies to have their minds free and prompt and without any outside regard as to how they took up their duties, that they did not want to add anything, which in itself was difficult and dangerous, believing that if these were added no one would be able to operate with virtu. For instance, they sent an army into Greece against Philip of Macedonia, and into Italy against those people who first overcame them. This Captain who was placed in charge of such an expedition would be deeply concerned of all the cares that go on behind those activities, which are grave and very important. Now, if to such cares should be added the many examples of the Romans who had been crucified or otherwise put to death for having lost the engagement, it would be impossible for that Captain, among such suspicions, to be able to proceed vigorously. Judging, therefore, that the ignominy of having lost would be a great punishment for such a one, they did not want to frighten him with other greater penalties.

As to errors committed through ignorance, here is an example. Sergius and Virginius were besieging Veii, each in charge of part of the army, of which Sergius was on the side whence the Tuscans could come, and Virginius on the other side. It happened that Sergius being assaulted by the Faliscans among other people, preferred being routed and put to flight before sending to Virginius for help: And on the other hand, Virginius waiting for him (Sergius) to be humiliated, would rather see the dishonor of his country and the ruin of the army, than to succor him. A truly bad case, and worthy to be noted, and of creating a poor conjecture of the Roman Republic, if both of them had not been castigated. It is true that where another Republic would have punished them with a capital penalty, it (Rome) punished them with a monetary fine. Which was done, not because their errors merited greater punishment, but because the Romans wanted in this case, for the reasons already mentioned, to maintain their ancient customs.

As to errors (committed) through ignorance, there is no more striking example than that of Varro, through whose temerity the Romans were routed at Cannae by Hannibal, where that Republic was brought in danger of its liberty, none the less because it was ignorance and not malice, they not only did not castigate him, but honored him, and on his return to Rome, the whole Senatorial order went to meet him, (and) not being able to thank him for the battle, they thanked him for returning to Rome and for not having despaired of Roman affairs.

When Papirus Cursor wanted to have Fabius put to death for having, against his command, combatted with the Samnites, among the other reasons which were assigned by the father of Fabius against the obstinacy of the Dictator was this, that in any defeat of its Captains, the Roman People never did that which Papirus in victory wanted to do.

CHAPTER XXXII

A REPUBLIC OR A PRINCE OUGHT NOT TO DEFER BENEFITING MEN IN THEIR NECESSITY

Although the Romans succeeded happily in being liberal to people, yet when danger came upon them from Porsenna coming to assault Rome in order to restore thy Tarquins, the Senate apprehensive of the plebs who might want to accept the Kings than to sustain a war, in order to assure themselves (of the plebs), relieved them of the salt gabelle and all other taxes, saying that the poor did much for the public benefit if they reared their children, and that because of this benefice that people should submit itself to endure siege, famine, and war: let no one who trusts in this example defer in gaming the people over to himself until the time of danger, for it will not succeed for him as it succeeded for the Romans; for the people in general will judge not to have gotten that benefit from you, but from your adversaries, and becoming afraid that once the necessity is past, you would take back from them that which by force you gave them, they will have no obligation to you. And the reason why this proceeding turned out well for the Romans was because the State was new, and not yet firm, and that the people had seen that other laws had been made before for their benefit, such as that of the appeal to the Plebs: so that they could persuade themselves that that good which was done, was not caused so much by the coming of the enemy as much as the disposition of the Senate to benefit them: In addition to this the memory of the Kings, by whom they had been ill-used and injured in many ways, was fresh. And as similar occasions rarely occur, so it rarely occurs that similar remedies do good. Therefore Republics as well as Princes ought to think ahead what adversities may befall them, and of which men in adverse times they may have need of, and then act toward them as they might judge necessary ((supposing some case)) to live. And he who governs himself otherwise, whether Prince or Republic, and especially a Prince, and then on this fact believes that if danger comes upon him, he may regain the people for himself by benefits, deceives himself, because he not only does not assure himself, but accelerates his ruin.

CHAPTER XXXIII

WHEN AN EVIL HAS SPRUNG UP EITHER WITHIN A STATE OR AGAINST A STATE, IT IS A MORE SALUTARY PROCEEDING TO TEMPORIZE WITH IT THAN TO ATTACK IT RASHLY

The Roman Republic growing in reputation, strength, and empire, its neighbors which at first had not thought how much harm that new Republic would be able to bring to them, commenced ((but too late)) to recognize their error, and wanting to remedy that which at first they had not remedied, they (arranged) for forty peoples (tribes) to conspire against Rome: whence the Romans among the usual remedies made by them in urgent perils, wanted to create a Dictator, that is, to give power to one man who, without any consultation, should be able to decide, and without any appeal should be able to execute his decisions: This remedy which formerly was useful and a means of overcoming imminent perils, was also always most useful in all those incidents which sprung up at any time against the Republic in the expansion of the Empire. On which subject it will first be discussed, that when an evil springs up either within a Republic or against a Republic, whether from intrinsic or extrinsic causes, and has become so great that it begins to make (everyone) afraid, it is a much more safe procedure to temporize with it than to try to extinguish it. For almost always those who try to crush it, make its force greater, and make that evil which is suspected from it to be accelerated. And incidents similar to these arise more frequently in a Republic from intrinsic and extrinsic causes, as it often occurs that it allows a Citizen more power than is reasonable, or the corrupting of a law is begun which is the nerve and life of a free society: and this error is allowed to run so far, that it is a more harmful procedure to want to remedy it than to let it go on. And it is so much more difficult to recognize these evils when they first arise, as it seems more natural to men always to favor the beginning of things: And such favors are accorded more to those accomplishments which have in them some virtu or are done by young men, than to any other thing: for if some young noble is seen to spring up in a Republic who has in him some extraordinary virtu, the eyes of all the Citizens begin to turn toward him, and they agree without regard (to consequences) to honor him: so that if there is any stitch of ambition in him, the assemblage of favors which nature and these incidents give him, he will soon come to a place that when the Citizens see their error, they will have few remedies to stop him, and they wanting so much to employ that which they have, do nothing other than to accelerate his power.

Of this many examples can be cited, but I want to give only one of our City (of Florence). Cosimo De’Medici, from whom the house of Medici in our City owed the beginning of its greatness, came into such reputation by the favor which his prudence and the ignorance of the other Citizens gave him, that he begun to bring fear to the State, so that the other Citizens judged it dangerous to offend him and still more dangerous to allow him to go on. But Niccolo Da Uzzano living in those times, who was held to be a man most expert in civil affairs, and having made the first error in not recognizing the dangers that could arise from the reputation of Cosimo, never permitted while he lived that a second (error) be made, that is, that it should be attempted (to want) to destroy him, judging that such an attempt would be the ruin of their State, as in fact was seen after his death; for those Citizens (who remained) not observing these counsels of his, made themselves strong against Cosimo and drove him out of Florence. Whence there resulted that, his party resentful of this injury, a little later called him back and made him Prince of the Republic, to which rank he could never have ascended without that manifest opposition. This same thing happened in Rome to Caesar who was favored by Pompey and the others for his virtu; which favor a little while later was converted to fear: to which Cicero gives testimony, saying that Pompey had too late begun to fear Caesar. Which fear caused them to think of remedies, and the remedies they took accelerated the ruin of the Republic.

I say, therefore, that since it is difficult to recognize these evils when they spring up, this difficulty caused by the deception which things give in the beginning, it is the wiser proceeding to temporize with them when they are recognized than to oppose them. For by temporizing with them, they will either extinguish themselves, or the evil will at least be deferred for a longer time. And Princes ought to open their eyes to all these things which they plan to do away with, and be careful by their strength and drive not to increase them instead of decreasing them, and not believe that by blowing at a thing, it can be done away with, or rather to suffocate the plant by blowing on it. But the force of the evil ought to be well considered, and when they see themselves sufficient to oppose it, to attack it without regard (to consequences), otherwise they should let it be, and in no way attempt it. For it will happen as was discussed above, and as it did happen to the neighbors of Rome, to whom after Rome had grown so much in power, it was more salutary to seek to placate her and hold her back with methods of peace, than with methods of war to make her think of new institutions and new defenses. For their conspiracy did nothing other than to make them united, more stalwart, and to think of new ways by which in a short time they expanded their power: Among which was the creation of a Dictator, by which new institution they not only overcame the imminent dangers, but was the cause of obviating infinite evils in which, without that remedy, that Republic would have been involved.

CHAPTER XXXIV

THE DICTATORIAL AUTHORITY DID GOOD AND NOT HARM TO THE ROMAN REPUBLIC; AND THAT THE AUTHORITY WHICH CITIZENS TAKE AWAY, NOT THOSE ARE GIVEN THEM BY FREE SUFFRAGE, ARE PERNICIOUS TO CIVIL SOCIETY

Those Romans who introduced into that City the method of creating a Dictator have been condemned by some writers, as something that was in time the cause of tyranny in Rome; alleging that the first tyrant who existed in that City commanded her under this title of Dictator, saying if it had not been for this, Caesar could not under any public (title) have imposed his tyranny. Which thing was not well examined by those who held this opinion and was believed beyond all reason. For it was not the name or the rank of Dictator that placed Rome in servitude, but it was the authority taken by the Citizens to perpetuate themselves in the Empire (government): and if the title of Dictator did not exist in Rome, they would have taken another; for it is power that easily acquires a name, not a name power. And it is seen that the Dictatorship while it was given according to public orders and not by individual authority, always did good to the City. For it is the Magistrates who are made and the authority that is given by irregular means that do injury to Republics, not those that come in the regular way. As is seen ensued in Rome where in so much passage of time no Dictator did anything that was not good for the Republic. For which there are very evident reasons: First, because if a Citizen would want to (offend and ) take up authority in an irregular manner, it must happen that he have many qualities which he can never have in an uncorrupted Republic, for he needs to be very rich and to have many adherents and partisans, which he cannot have where the laws are observed: and even if he should have them, such men are so formidable that free suffrage would not support them. In addition to this, a Dictator was made for a (limited) time and not in perpetuity, and only to remove the cause for which he was created; and his authority extended only in being able to decide by himself the ways of meeting that urgent peril, (and) to do things without consultation, and to punish anyone without appeal; but he could do nothing to diminish (the power) of the State, such as would have been the taking away of authority from the Senate or the people, to destroy the ancient institutions of the City and the making of new ones. So that taking together the short time of the Dictatorship and the limited authority that he had, and the Roman People uncorrupted, it was impossible that he should exceed his limits and harm the City: but from experience it is seen that it (City) always benefited by him.

And truly, among the other Roman institutions, this is one that merits to be considered and counted among those which were the cause of the greatness of so great an Empire: For without a similar institution, the Cities would have avoided such extraordinary hazards only with difficulty; for the customary orders of the Republic move to slowly ((no council or Magistrate being able by himself to do anything, but in many cases having to act together)) that the assembling together of opinions takes so much time; and remedies are most dangerous when they have to apply to some situation which cannot await time. And therefore Republics ought to have a similar method among their institutions. And the Venetian Republic ((which among modern Republics is excellent)) has reserved authority to a small group (few) of citizens so that in urgent necessities they can decide on all matters without wider consultation. For when a similar method is lacking in a Republic, either observing the institutions (strictly) will ruin her, or in order not to ruin her, it will be necessary to break them. And in a Republic, it should never happen that it be governed by extraordinary methods. For although the extraordinary method would do well at that time, none the less the example does evil, for if a usage is established of breaking institutions for good objectives, then under that pretext they will be broken for evil ones. So that no Republic will be perfect, unless it has provided for everything with laws, and provided a remedy for every incident, and fixed the method of governing it. And therefore concluding I say, that those Republics which in urgent perils do not have resort either to a Dictatorship or a similar authority, will always be ruined in grave incidents. And it is to be noted in this new institution how the method of electing him was wisely provided by the Romans. For the creation of a Dictator being of some discredit to the Consuls, as the Chiefs of the City had to come to the same obedience as others, (and) wanting that the authority for such election should remain in the consuls, believing that if an incident should arise that Rome would have need of this Regal power, by doing this voluntarily by themselves (Consuls), it would reflect on them less. For the wounds and every other evil that men inflict on themselves spontaneously and by choice, pain less in the long run than do those that are inflicted by others. In later times, however, the Romans, in place of a Dictator, used to give such authority to the Consul, in these words: Let the Consuls see that the Republic suffers no detriment. But to return to our subject, I conclude, that the neighbors of Rome seeking to oppress her, caused her to institute methods not only enabling her to defend herself, but enabling her with more strength, better counsels, and greater authority to attack them.

CHAPTER XXXV

THE REASON WHY THE CREATION OF THE DECEMVIRS IN ROME WAS HARMFUL TO THE LIBERTY OF THAT REPUBLIC, NOTWITHSTANDING THAT IT WAS CREATED BY PUBLIC AND FREE SUFFRAGE

The election of the Ten citizens (Decemvirs) created by the Roman people to make the laws in Rome, who in time became Tyrants, and without any regard took away her liberty, appears to be contrary to what was discussed above, that that authority which is taken by violence, not that which is given by suffrage, harms the Republics. Here, however, the methods of giving authority and the time for which it is given, ought to be considered. For when free authority is given for a long time ((calling a long time a year or more)) it is always dangerous and will produce effects either good or bad, according as those upon whom it is conferred are good or bad. And if the authority given to the Ten and that which the Dictators have are considered, it will be seen beyond comparison that that of the Ten is greater. For when a Dictator was created there remained the Tribunes, Consuls, (and) the Senate, with all their authority, and the Dictator could not take it away from them; and even if he should have been able to remove anyone from the Consulship, or from the Senate, he could not suppress the Senatorial order and make new laws. So that the Senate, the Consuls, and the Tribunes, remaining with their authority, came to be as his guard to prevent him form going off from the right road. But in the creation of the Ten all the contrary occurred, for they annulled the Consuls and the Tribunes, and they were given authority to make laws and do every other thing as the Roman People had. So that, finding themselves alone, without Consuls, without Tribunes, without the appeal to the People, and because of this not having anyone to observe them, moved by the ambitions of Appius, they were able in the second year to become insolent. And because of this, it ought to be noted that when (we said) an authority given by free suffrage never harmed any Republic, it presupposed that a People is never led to give it except with limited powers and for limited times: but when either from having been deceived or for some other reason it happens that they are induced to give it imprudently and in the way in which the Roman people gave it to the Ten, it will always happen as it did to them (Romans). This is easily proven, considering the reasons that kept the Dictators good and that made the Ten bad: and considering also how those Republics which have been kept well ordered have done in giving authority for a long (period of) time, as the Spartans gave to their King, and how the Venetians give to their Doges; for it will be seen in both these methods, guardians were appointed who watched that the Kings (and the Doges) could not ill use that authority. Nor is it of any benefit in this case that the people are not corrupted, for an absolute authority in a very brief time corrupts the people, and makes friends and partisans for itself. Nor is it harmful either to be poor or not to have relatives, for riches and every other favor quickly will run after power, as we will discuss in detail in the creation of the said Ten.

CHAPTER XXXVI

CITIZENS WHO HAVE BEEN GIVEN THE HIGHER HONORS OUGHT NOT TO DISDAIN THE LESSER

The Romans had made Marcus Fabius and C. Manlius Consuls, and had won a glorious engagement against the Veienti and the Etruscans, in which, however, Quintus Fabius brother of the Consul, who the previous year had himself been Consul, was killed. Here, then, ought to be considered how much the institutions of that City were adept at making her great, and how much the other Republics deceived themselves in deviating (themselves) from her methods. For although the Romans were great lovers of glory, none the less they did not esteem it a dishonorable thing to obey presently those whom at another time they had commanded, and to serve in that army of which they had been Princes. Which custom is contrary to the opinion, orders, and practices of the Citizen of our times: and in Venice this error still holds that a Citizen having had a high rank would be ashamed to accept a lesser, and the City consents to them what she cannot change. Which thing, however honorable it should be for a private (citizen) is entirely useless for the public. For a Republic ought to have more hope, and more confidence in a Citizen who descends from a high rank to govern a lesser, than in one who rises from a lower rank to govern a higher one. For the latter cannot reasonably be relied upon unless he is surrounded by men, who are of such respectability or of such virtu, that his inexperience can be moderated by their counsel and authority. And if in Rome there had been the same customs as are in Venice, and other modern Republics and Kingdoms, where he who had at one time been Consul should never want to enter the army except as Consul, there would have arisen infinite things prejudicial to a free society, both because of the errors that new men would make, and because of their ambition which they could have indulged in more freely, not having men around them in whose presence they should be afraid to err, and thus they would have come to be more unrestrained, which would have resulted entirely to the detriment of the public.

CHAPTER XXXVII

WHAT TROUBLES THE AGRARIAN LAW BROUGHT FORTH IN ROME; AND HOW TROUBLESOME IT IS TO MAKE A LAW IN A REPUBLIC WHICH GREATLY REGARDS THE PAST BUT CONTRARY TO THE ANCIENT CUSTOMS OF THE CITY

It was the verdict of ancient writers that men afflict themselves in evil and weary themselves in the good, and that the same effects result from both of these passions. For whenever men are not obliged to fight from necessity, they fight from ambition; which is so powerful in human breasts, that it never leaves them no matter to what rank they rise. The reason is that nature has so created men that they are able to desire everything but are not able to attain everything: so that the desire being always greater than the acquisition, there results discontent with the possession and little satisfaction to themselves from it. From this arises the changes in their fortunes; for as men desire, some to have more, some in fear of losing their acquisition, there ensues enmity and war, from which results the ruin of that province and the elevation of another. I have made this discussion because it was not enough for the Roman Plebs to secure themselves from the Nobles through the creation of the Tribunes, to which (desire) they were constrained by necessity, that they soon ((having obtained that)) begun to fight from ambition and to want to divide with the Nobles their honors and possessions, as things more esteemed by men. From this there arose the plague that brought forth the contentions about the Agrarian law, and in the end was the cause of the destruction of the Roman Republic. And because well-ordered Republics have to keep the public (State) rich and its Citizens poor, it was apparent that there was some defect in that law in the City of Rome, which either was now drawn in the beginning in such a way that it required to be redrawn every day, or that it was so long deferred in the making that it became troublesome in regard to the past, or if it had been well ordered in the beginning, it had become corrupted in its application. So that whatever way it may have been, this law could never be spoken of in Rome without that City going upside down (from turmoil). This law had two principal articles. Through the first it provided that each Citizen could not possess more than so many jugeri of land, through the other that the fields which were taken from the enemy should be divided among the Roman people. This, therefore, came to make two strong offenses against the Nobles, for those who possessed more land than the law permitted ((of whom the Nobles were the greater part)) had to be deprived of it, and by dividing the possessions of the enemy among the Plebs, it deprived them (Nobles) that means of enriching themselves. Since this offense came to be against the powerful men, and who thought that by going against it they were defending the public, whenever ((as I have said)) this was brought up, that City would go upside-down, and the Nobles with patience and industry temporized, either by calling out the army, or by having that Tribune who proposed it opposed by another Tribune, or sometimes by yielding in part, or even by sending a Colony to that place that was to be distributed, as happened in the countryside of Antium, about which a dispute spring up from this law; a Colony drawn from Rome was sent to that place, to whom the said countryside was assigned. Concerning which Titus Livius used a notable remark, saying that it was difficult to find in Rome one who would give his name to go to the said Colony; so much more ready were the Plebs to defend the things in Rome than to possess them in Antium.

This mood concerning this law thus troubled them for a time, so that the Romans begun to conduct their armies to the extreme parts of Italy, or outside of Italy, after which time it appeared that things settled down. This resulted because the fields that the enemies of Rome possessed being far removed from the eyes of the Plebs, and in a place where it was not easy to cultivate them, became less desirable; and also the Romans were less disposed to punish their enemies in such a way, and even when they deprived them of some land from their countryside, they distributed Colonies there. So that for these reasons this law remained, as it were, dormant up to the time of the Gracchi, by whom it being revived, wholly ruined the liberty of Rome; for it found the power of its adversaries redoubled, and because of this (revival) so much hate developed between the Plebs and the Senate, that it came to arms and bloodshed beyond every civil limit and custom. So that the public Magistrates not being able to remedy them, nor either faction having further confidence in them, recourse was had to private remedies, and each of thy factions decided to appoint a chief (for themselves) who would defend them. In these troubles and disorders the Plebs came and turned to Marius with his reputations, so that they made him Consul four times; and with few intervening intervals that his Consulship continued so that he was able by himself to make himself Consul another three times. Against which plague thy Nobility, not having any remedy, turned their favor to Sulla, and having made him Head of their party, arrived at civil war, and after much bloodshed and changes of fortune, the Nobility remained superior. Later, in the time of Caesar and Pompey, these moods were revived, for Caesar making himself Head of the party of Marius, and Pompey of that of Sulla; (and) coming to arms Caesar remained superior, who became the first Tyrant in Rome, so that City was never again free.

Such, therefore, was the beginning and the end of the Agrarian law. And although elsewhere we showed that the enmity in Rome between the Senate and the Plebs should maintain Rome free, because it gave rise to those laws which favored liberty, and therefore the result of this Agrarian law may seem different from such a conclusion, I say that I do not on that account change my opinion, for so great is the ambition of the Nobles, that if it is not beaten down in various ways and means in a City, it will soon bring that City to ruin. So that if the contentions about the Agrarian law took three hundred years in bringing Rome to servitude, she would perhaps have been brought to servitude much sooner if the Plebs with this law and their other desires had not always restrained the ambitions of the Nobles. It is also to be seen from this how much more men esteem property than honors, for the Roman Nobility, always yielded without extraordinary trouble to the Plebs in the matter of honors, but when it came to property, so great was its obstinacy in defending it, that the Plebs in order to give vent to their appetites had recourse to those extraordinary proceedings which were discussed above. The movers of these disorders were the Gracchi, whose intentions should be praised more than their prudence. For to want to remove an abuse that has grown up in a Republic, and enact a retrospective law for this, is a badly considered proceeding, and ((as was discussed above at length)) does nothing else than to accelerate that evil which leads to that abuse; but by temporizing with it, either the evil comes much later, or by itself in time ((before its end comes)) it will extinguish itself.

CHAPTER XXXVIII

WEAK REPUBLICS ARE IRRESOLUTE AND DO NOT KNOW HOW TO DECIDE; AND IF THEY TAKE UP ANY PROCEEDING, IT RESULTS MORE FROM NECESSITY THAN FROM ELECTION

Because of a very great pestilence occurring in Rome, it appeared to the Volscians and the Equeans that the time had come for them to be able to attack Rome, these two people raised a large army and assaulted the Latins and the Ernicians, and their country being laid waste, the Latins and Ernicians were constrained to make it (to be) known to Rome, and pray that they might be defended by the Romans, but the Romans being afflicted by the pestilence, answered them that they should take up the proceeding of defending themselves with arms, for they were not able to defend them. In which is recognized the generosity and prudence of that Senate, that in every circumstance they always wanted to be the one that should be Prince of (make) the decisions which her subjects had to take; nor were they ever ashamed to decide something contrary to their mode of living or to other decisions previously made by them, whenever necessity should compel them. I say this, because at other times the same them, whenever necessity should compel them. I say this, because at other times the same Senate had forbidden the said people to arm and defend themselves, so that to a less prudent Senate it would then have seemed to them a falling from their dignity to concede to them this defense. But that (Senate) always judged things as they ought to be judged, and always took the less objectionable proceeding as the better; for they knew the evil of not being able to defend their subjects, and they knew also the evil of letting them arm themselves without them (the Romans), for the reasons given and many others that are understood: none the less knowing that they (thy Latins and Ernicians) had in any case armed themselves from necessity, having the enemy upon them, they took the honorable course and decided to let them do what had to be done with their permission, so that having once disobeyed from necessity, they might not accustom themselves to disobeying from choice.

And although this would appear to be a proceeding that every Republic ought to have taken, none the less weak and ill-advised Republics do not know how to assume it, nor how to gain honor in a similar necessity. The Duke of Valentino had taken Faenza and made Bologna submit to his terms. Afterwards wanting to return to Rome by way of Tuscany, he sent one of his men to Florence to ask passage for himself and his army. In Florence they consulted how this thing should be managed, but everyone counselled that it not be conceded to them. The Roman way was not followed in this, for the Duke being very well armed, and the Florentines disarmed so that they could not prohibit the passage, it was much more to their honor that it should appear that he (the Duke) passed with their permission than by force; for as it was they had nothing but shame, which would have in part been less if they had managed otherwise. But the worst part that weak Republics have, is to be irresolute; so that all the proceedings they take are taken by force, and if anything good should be done by them, they do it by force and not by their prudence. I want to give two other examples of this which occurred in our times in the State (Government) of our City in the year one thousand five hundred (1500).

King Louis XII of France having retaken Milan, wanting to restore Pisa in order to obtain the fifty thousand ducats that had been promised him by the Florentines after such restitution, he sent his armies toward Pisa captained by Monsignor De Beaumont, who, although French, was none the less a man in whom the Florentines had great confidence. This Captain placed himself and his army between Cascina and Pisa in order (to go) to assail the walls, where delaying several days to organize themselves for the capture, Pisan Orators (Ambassadors) came to Beaumont and offered to give up the City to the French army, with terms that under the pledge of the King he promise not to put them into the hands of the Florentines until four months after (the surrender). This proceeding was completely refused by the Florentines, so that after beginning the siege, it followed that (he had to raise it and) he had to retire in shame. Nor was the proceeding refused for any other reason than the mistrust of the faith of the King, into whose hands they had been forced to place themselves because of their weak counsel; and on the other hand, while they did not trust him, neither were they able to see that it would have been easier for the King to restore Pisa to them after he had gone inside the City, and if he did not restore it to expose his mind (perfidy); but not having (the City) he could promise it to them and they would be forced to buy that promise: So that it would have been much more useful to them to have consented that Beaumont should have taken it (Pisa) under any promise, as was seen in the subsequent experience in the year MDII (1502) when Arezzo having rebelled, Monsignor Imbault was sent by the King of France to the succor of the Florentines with French forces, who, arriving near Arezzo, soon began to negotiate an accord with the Arentines who were (willing) to give up the town under certain pledges similar to those (asked) by the Pisans. This proposal was rejected in Florence: when Monsignor Imbault learned of this, and it appeared to him that the Florentines little understood him, he began to hold negotiations for the treaty (of surrender) on his own without the participation of the Commissioners so that he could conclude it in his own way; and under it, he entered with his forces into Arezzo, making the Florentines understand that they were fools and did not understand the things of the world: that if they wanted Arezzo, they should let the King know, who was much better able to give it to them with his forces inside that City rather than (with them) outside. In Florence they did not cease abusing and censuring the said Imbault, nor did they stop until they realized that if Beaumont had been like Imbault, they would have had Pisa as (they had) Arezzo.

And so to return to the subject, irresolute Republics never take up good proceedings except by force; for their weakness never allows them to decide where there is any doubt, and if that doubt is not dispelled by some violence which pushes the, they always remain in suspense.

CHAPTER XXXIX

THE SAME INCIDENTS OFTEN HAPPEN TO DIFFERENT PEOPLE

And it is easily recognized by those who consider present and ancient affairs that the same desires and passions exist in all Cities and people, and that they always existed. So that to whoever with diligence examines past events, it is an easy thing to foresee the future in any Republic, and to apply those remedies which had been used by the ancients, or, not finding any of those used, to think of new ones from the similarity of events. But as these considerations are neglected or not understood by those who govern, it follows that the same troubles will exist in every time.

The City of Florence, having after the year XCIV (1494) lost part of her Empire, such as Pisa and other lands, was obliged to make war against those who occupied them: and because he who occupied them was powerful, there followed that they spent much in the war without any fruit: from the great spending there resulted great taxes, from the taxes infinite complaints from the people: and as this war was managed by a Magistracy of Ten Citizens who were called the “Ten of the War”, the general public begun to hold them in aversion as those who were the cause of the war, and its expenses, and began to persuade themselves that if the said Magistracy were remoted, the path for war would be removed: so that if they had to do it (reappoint the Ten) again, they would allow their (terms) to expire without making changes and commit their functions to the Signoria. Which decision was so pernicious that it not only did not end the war as the general public had persuaded itself it would, but removed those who were managing it with prudence, and there followed so great disorders that in addition to Pisa, Arezzo, and many other places were lost: so that the people perceiving their error, (and) that the cause of the malady was the fever and not the doctor, re-established the Magistracy of the Ten.

This same mood had arisen in Rome against the (name of the) Consuls; for that people, seeing one war arise from another, and not ever being able to have any repose, where they should have believed it had arisen from the ambition of neighbors who wanted to oppress them, they thought it had arisen form the ambition of the Nobles, who, being unable to castigate the Plebs within Rome where they were defended by the power of Tribunate, wanted to lead them outside Rome (where they were) under the Consuls in order to oppress them, (and) where they would not have any aid: And because of this, they thought that it was necessary either to remove the Consuls or somehow to regulate their power, so that they should not have authority over the People either at home or abroad. The first who tried (to introduce) this law was one Terentillus, a Tribune, who proposed that there ought to be created (a Council of) five men who should examine the power of the Consuls and to limit it. This greatly excited the Nobility, as it appeared to them the majesty of the Empire would decline completely, so that no rank in that Republic would remain to the Nobility. None the less, so great was the obstinacy of the Tribunes that the dignity of the Consuls was extinguished: and after some other regulations they were finally content rather to create Tribunes with Consular power than to continue the Consuls, holding so much more in hatred their dignity than their authority. And thus they continued for a long time, until they recognized their error and returned to the Ten as the Florentines (did), (and) also re-established the Consuls.

CHAPTER XL

THE CREATION OF THE DECEMVIRATE IN ROME, AND WHAT IS TO BE NOTED IN IT; AND WHERE IT WILL BE CONSIDERED AMONG MANY OTHER THINGS HOW A REPUBLIC CAN BE SAVED OR RUINED BECAUSE OF SIMILAR ACCIDENTS

As I want to discuss in detail the incidents that arose in Rome because of the creation of the Decemvirate, it does not appear to me superfluous to narrate first all that ensued because of such creations, and then to discuss those parts which are notable (actions) in it, which are many and (worthy) of much consideration, both by those who want to maintain a Republic free as well as by those who should plan to subjugate her. For in such a discussion will be seen the many errors made by the Senate and the Plebs prejudicial to liberty, and the many errors made by Appius, Chief of the Decemvirate, prejudicial to that Tyranny which he had intended to have established in Rome. After much discussion between the People and the Nobility concerning the adoption of new laws in Rome through which the liberty of that State should be firmly established, by agreement they sent Spurius Posthumus with two other Citizens to Athens for copies of those laws that Solon gave to that City, so as to be able to base the (new) Roman laws upon them. These men having gone and returned, they arrived at the appointing of the men who should examine and establish the said laws, and they created the Decemvir (Ten Citizens) for a year, among whom Appius Claudius, a sagacious but turbulent man, was appointed. And in order that they might create such laws without any regard (to authority), they removed all the other Magistracies from Rome, and particularly the Tribunes and the Consuls, and also took away the appeal to the people: so that this new Magistracy (of the Ten) became absolute Princes (Masters) of Rome. Next Appius took over to himself all the authority of his other colleagues because of the favor he exercised toward the Plebs; for he had made himself so popular with his demonstrations, that it seemed a wonder that he should have so readily taken on a new nature and new genius, having before that time been held to be a cruel persecutor of the Plebs. These Ten conducted themselves civilly, not having more than ten Lictors who walked before the one who had been placed in charge over them. And although they had absolute authority, none the less, having to punish a Roman Citizen for homicide, they cited him before (the sight of) the People and made them judge him.

They (The Ten) wrote the laws on ten tablet, and before confirming them exposed them to the public, so that all could read and discuss them, and so that they might know if there was any defect in order to be able to amend them before confirming them. Upon this Appius caused a rumor (to be spread) throughout Rome, that, if to these ten tablets there were to be added two others, perfection would be given to them, so that this opinion gave the People the opportunity to reappoint the Ten for another year: to which the People willingly agreed, as much so as not to reappoint the Consuls, as also because they hoped to remain without Tribunes, who were the judges of their causes, as was said above. Proceedings being taken, therefore, to re-establish it (The Ten), all the Nobility moved to seek these honors, and among the first was Appius: and he showed so much humanity toward the Plebs in asking for it, that he begun to be suspected by his companions: For they could not believe so much graciousness could exist with so much haughtiness. And being apprehensive of opposing him openly, they decided to do it by artifice: and although he was the youngest of them all, they gave him the authority to propose the future Ten to the People, believing that he would observe the limitations of the others of not proposing himself, it being an unaccustomed and ignominious thing in Rome. He in truth changed the impediment into an opportunity, and nominated himself among the first, to the astonishment and displeasure of all the Nobles. He then nominated nine others to his liking. Which new appointments made for another year, begun to show their error to the People and to the Nobility. For Appius quickly put an end to his alien character, and begun to show his innate haughtiness, and in a few days he filled his colleagues with his own spirits. And in order to frighten the people and the Senate, in place of the twelve Lictors, they created one hundred and twenty. For some days the fear was equal (on both sides), but then they begun to disregard the Senate and beat the Plebs, and if any beaten by one (Decemvir) appealed to another, he was treated worse in the appeal than he had in the first instance. So that the Plebs recognizing their error began, full of affliction, to look to the Nobles, And to capture the aura of liberty, where they had feared servitude, to which condition they had brought the Republic. And this affliction was welcome to the Nobility, That likewise weary of the present, they desired the Consuls. The days that ended the year had come: the two tables of the laws were made, but not published. From this, the Ten took the opportunity to continue their Magistracy, and begun to retain the State through violence and make satellites of the Noble youth, to whom they gave the possessions of those they had condemned: By which gifts these youths were corrupted, and preferred their license to their complete liberty.

It happened at this time that the Sabines and Volscians moved war against the Romans, from the fear of which the Ten Began to discuss the weakness of their State, for without the Senate they could not wage war, and to assemble the Senate seemed to them they would lose their State. But being compelled to they took up this last proceeding, and assembling the Senate, many of the Senators spoke against the haughtiness of the Ten, and in particular Valerius and Horatius: and their authority would have been entirely extinguished except that the Senate, because of envy of the Plebs, was unwilling to show its authority, thinking that if the Ten resigned the magistracy voluntarily, it would be possible that the Tribune of the Plebs might be re-established. Deciding on war, therefore, they sent out two armies, led in part by the said Ten. Appius remained to govern the City: whereupon it happened that he became enamorated of Virginia, and wanting to take her off by force, her father Virginius killed her in order to save her from him: whence tumults ensued in Rome and in the armies, which, having come together with the remnants of the Roman Plebs, went to Mount Sacer, where they stayed until the Ten resigned the Magistracy and the Tribunes and Consuls were re-established, and Rome restored to the form of its ancient liberty.

It is to be noted from this text, therefore, that the evil of creating this Tyranny first arose in Rome for the same reasons that give rise to the greater part of Tyrannies in Cities: and this (results) from the too great desire of the people to be free, and from the too great desire of the Nobles to dominate. And if they do not agree to make a law in favor of liberty, but one of the parties throws its (influence) in favor of one man, then a Tyranny quickly springs up. The People and the Nobles of Rome agreed to create the Ten, and create them with such authority, from the desire which each of the parties had, one to extinguish to Consular office, the other (to extinguish that of) the Tribunate. The Ten having been created, it seemed to the Plebs that Appius had come to (the side of) the People and should beat down the Nobles, (and) the People turned to favor him. And when a People is led to commit this error of giving reputation to one man because he beats down those whom he hates, and if this man is wise, it will always happen that he will become Tyrant of that City. For (together) with the favor of the People he will attend to extinguishing the Nobility, and after they are extinguished he will turn to the oppression of the People until they are also extinguished; and by the time the People recognize they have become enslaved, they will not have any place to seek refuge. This is the path all those have taken who established Tyrannies in Republics: and if Appius had taken this path, his tyranny would have taken on more vitality and would not have been overthrown so readily. But he did everything to the contrary, nor could he have governed more imprudently, that in order to hold the tyranny he made enemies of those who had given it to him and who could maintain it for him, and made friends of those who were not in accord to give it to him and could not maintain it for him; and he lost those who were his friends, and sought to have as friends those who could not be his friends; for although the Nobles desired to tyrannize, yet that part of the Nobility which finds itself outside of the Tyrancy is always hostile to the Tyrant; nor can he ever win them all over to him because of the great ambition and avarice that exists in them, the Tyrant not having riches and honors enough to be able to satisfy them all. And thus Appius in leaving the People and attaching himself to the Nobles, made a most obvious error, both for the reasons mentioned above, and because, in wanting to hold a thing (government) by force, the one who does the forcing needs to be more powerful than he who is forced. Whence it arises that those Tyrants who have the general public as friends and the Nobles as enemies, are more secure, because their violence is sustained by a greater force than that of those men who have the People as an enemy and the Nobility as a friend. For with that favor (of the people) the internal forces are enough to sustain him, as they were enough for Nabis, Tyrant of Sparta, when Greece and the Roman People assaulted him; who, making sure of a few Nobles, and having the People as a friend, he defended himself with them; which he could not do if he had them as an enemy. But the internal forces of the other rank not being enough because there are few friends within it, he must seek (aid) outside. And this may be of three kinds; the one, foreigners as satellites who would guard your person; another, to arm the countryside (and) have them perform the duty that the Plebs should do; the third, to ally oneself with powerful neighbors who would defend you. Whoever has these means and observes them well, although he has the People as his enemy, is able in some way to save himself. But Appius could not accomplish this winning of the countryside over to himself, the countryside and Rome being one and the same thing, and he did not know how to do what he might have done; so that he was ruined at the outset. The Senate and the People made very great errors in this creation of the Decemvirs; for although in that discussion made above of the Dictator, that those Magistrates that are self-constituted, not those whom the People create, are harmful to liberty; none the less the People ought, when they create the Magistrates, do it in such a way that they should have some regard to becoming bad (abusing their power). But where they should have proposed safeguards for maintaining them good, the Romans removed them, (and) only created the Magistracy (of Ten) in Rome and annulled all the others because of the excessive desire ((as we said above)) that the Senate had to extinguish the Tribunes, and the Plebs to extinguish the Consuls; this blinded them so that they both contributed to such disorders. For men, as King Ferrando said, often act like certain smaller birds of prey, in whom there is so much desire to pursue their prey to which nature incites them, that they do not observe another larger bird which is above them about to kill them.

It is to be recognized through this discussion, therefore, as we proposed in the beginning, the error which the Roman people made in wanting to save their liberty, and the errors of Appius in wanting to seize the Tyrancy.

CHAPTER XLI

TO JUMP FROM HUMILITY TO PRIDE AND FROM MERCY TO CRUELTY WITHOUT PROFITABLE MEANS, IS AN IMPRUDENT AND USELESS THING

In addition to other means ill-used by Appius in order to maintain his tyranny, that of jumping from one quality to another was of no little moment. For his astuteness in deceiving the Plebs by simulating to be a man of the People was well used: those means were also well used in which he caused the Ten to be reappointed: that audacity in nominating himself against the expectation of the Nobility was also well used: the naming of colleagues suitable to him was also well used: but in doing this ((according as was said above)) what he did was not well used in changing his nature so quickly, and from being a friend showing himself to be the enemy of the Plebs, from being humane to being haughty, from easy (of access) to difficult; and to do this so very readily, that without any excuse everyone should know the falseness of his spirit. For whoever at one time has appeared to be good and wants for purposes of his own to become bad, ought to do it by proper means (gradually), and in a way that they should be conducive to the opportunities, so that before his changed nature takes away old favors from him, it may give him some new ones that his authority may not be diminished; otherwise, finding himself discovered and without friends, he will be ruined.

CHAPTER XLII

HOW EASILY MAN MAY BE CORRUPTED

It should be noted also in the matter of the Decemvirate how easily men are corrupted and make themselves become of a contrary nature, even though (they are) good and well educated; (and), considering how those youths whom Appius had chosen to surround him begun, for the little advantages that followed from it, to be friendly to that tyranny, and that Quintus Fabius, one of the number of the second Ten, being a very good man, (but) blinded by a little ambition and persuaded by the malignity of Appius, changed his good habits into the worst, and became like, him. Which, if well examined, the Legislators of Republics or Kingdoms will more promptly restrain human appetites and take away from them the hope of being able to err with impunity.

CHAPTER XLIII

THOSE WHO COMBAT FOR THEIR OWN GLORY ARE GOOD AND FAITHFUL SOLDIERS

From the above written treatise it also is to be considered what a difference there is between a contented army which combats for its own glory, and that which is ill disposed and which combats for the ambitions of others. For where the Roman armies were usually victorious under the Consuls, they always lost under the Decemvirs. From this example there can be recognized part of the reasons of the uselessness of mercenary soldiers, who have no other reason which keeps them firm but a small stipend which you give to them. Which reason is not, and can never be, enough to make them faithful, nor so much your friends that they be willing to die for you. For in those armies where there is not that affection toward the man for whom they combat which makes them become his partisans, there can never be so much virtu which would be enough to resist even an enemy of little virtu. And because this love cannot arise in any contest except from his own subjects, it is necessary in wanting to keep a State, or to want to maintain a Republic or a Kingdom, that he arm himself with his own subjects, as is seen to have been done by all those others who, with their armies, have made great advances. The Roman armies under the Ten had the same virtu as before: but because there was not in them the same disposition, they did not achieve their usual results. But as soon as the Magistracy of the Ten was extinguished and they begun to fight as free men, that same spirit returned in them, and consequently their enterprises had their happy endings according to their ancient custom.

CHAPTER XLIV

A MULTITUDE WITHOUT A HEAD IS USELESS, AND ONE OUGHT NOT TO THREATEN FIRST, AND THEN SEEK AUTHORITY

Because of the incident of Virginia the Roman Pleb was led armed to the sacred mountain (Mons Sacer). The Senate sent its Ambassadors to ask by what authority they had abandoned their Captains and retired to the Mountains. And so much was the authority of the Senate esteemed that, the Plebs not having their chiefs among them, no one dared to reply. And T. Livius says that they did not lack material to reply, but they did lack someone who should make the reply. Which thing demonstrates in point the uselessness of a multitude without a head. This disorder was recognized by Virginius, and by his order twenty military Tribunes were created who would be their chiefs to reply to and convene with the Senate. And having requested that (the Senators) Valerius and Horatius should be sent to them, to whom they would tell their wants, they (the Senators) would not turn to go unless the Ten first had resigned their Magistracy: and having arrived on the mountain where the Pleb was, these things were demanded of them, that they wanted the re-establishment of the Tribunes of the Plebs, (and) that an appeal to the people from every Magistracy should be allowed, and that all of the Ten should be given up to them as they wanted to burn them alive. Valerius and Horatius lauded the first of their demands: they censured the last as impious, saying; You condone cruelty, yet fall yourselves into cruelty, and counselled them to leave off making mention of the Ten, and to attend to taking from them their authority and power, and that afterwards there would not be lacking the means of satisfying them (their vengeance). From which it is recognized openly how foolish and little prudent it is to ask for a thing, and to say at first, I want to do evil with it: for one ought not to show his mind, but to want in every way to seek to obtain that which he desires. For it is enough to ask from one his arms, without saying I want to kill you with them; for when you have the arms in your hands then you will be able to satisfy your appetite.

CHAPTER XLV

IT IS A BAD EXAMPLE NOT TO OBSERVE A LAW THAT HAS BEEN MADE, AND ESPECIALLY BY THE AUTHOR OF IT; AND IT IS MOST HARMFUL TO RENEW EVERY DAY NEW INJURIES IN A CITY AND TO THE ONE WHO GOVERNS IT

The accord having taken place and Rome restored to its ancient form, Virginius cited Appius before the People to defend his cause. He complied accompanied by many Nobles. Virginius commanded that he be put in prison. Appius begun to shout and appeal to the People. Virginius said that he was not worthy of having that (right of) appeal which he had destroyed, nor to have as defender that People whom he had offended. Appius replied that they (the People) had no (right) to violate that appeal which they had established with so much desire. He was incarcerated, however, and before the day of judgment (came) he killed himself. And although the wicked life of Appius should merit every punishment, none the less it was little consistent to violate the laws, and more so one recently made. For I do not believe there is a worse example in a Republic than to make a law and not to observe it, and much more when it is not observed by those who made it.

Florence, after ninety four (1494), having had its State (Government) reorganized with the aid of Brother Girolamo Savonarola ((whose writings show the doctrine, prudence, and the virtu of his spirit)) and among other provisions for the security of the Citizens having had a law enacted which enabled an appeal to the People from the verdicts which the (Council of) Eight and the Signoria should give in cases affecting the State ((which passage took more time and was attained with the greatest difficulty)); it happened that a little after the confirmation of this (law), five Citizens were condemned to death by the Signoria on account of (acts against) the State, and when they wanted to appeal, they were not permitted to do so and the law was not observed. Which took away from the Brother more reputation than any other incident; for if that (right of) appeal was useful, he should have had it observed: if it was not useful, he ought not to have had it passed. And so much more was this incident noted, inasmuch as the Brother, in so many preachings that he made after that law was broken, never condemned those who broke it, or excused them, as one who did not want to condemn a thing that suited his purpose, yet was not able to excuse it. This, having uncovered his ambitions and partisan spirit, took away his reputation and caused him many troubles.

A State also offends greatly when every day it renews in the minds of its Citizens new moods because of new injuries which it inflicts on this one and that one, as happened in Rome after the Decemvirate. For all of the Ten and other Citizens were accused and condemned at different times, so that a great fright existed in the Nobility, judging that there would never be an end to such condemnations until all the Nobility was destroyed. And great evils would have been generated in that City, if it had not been foreseen by the Tribune Marcus Duellius, who issued an edict that for one year it would not be licit to cite anyone or to accuse any Roman Citizen; this reassured all the Nobility. Here it is seen how harmful it is to a Republic or to a Prince to keep the minds of their subjects in a state of fear by continuing penalties and suspended offenses. And without doubt no more pernicious order can be held; for men who begin to be apprehensive of having done a capital evil, will secure themselves from perils in every way, and become more audacious and have less regard in attempting new things. It is necessary, therefore, either never to offend any one or to make the offense at a stroke, and afterwards to reassure men and give them cause to quiet and firm the spirit.

CHAPTER XLVI

MEN JUMP FROM ONE AMBITION TO ANOTHER, AND FIRST THEY SEEK NOT TO BE OFFENDED, THEN TO OFFEND OTHERS

The Roman People having recovered their liberty, (and) having returned to their original rank, and having obtained even greater reputation from the many new laws made in corroboration of their power, it appeared reasonable that Rome would for some time become quiet. None the less from experience the contrary was seen, for every day new tumults and new disorders sprung up. And as Titus Livius most prudently renders the cause whence this arose, it does not appear to me outside my purpose to refer in point to his words, where he says that the People or the Nobility always increased their haughtiness when the other was humiliated; and the Plebs remaining quiet within bounds, the young Nobles began to offend them; and the Tribunes were able to make few remedies, because they too were violated. The Nobility, on the other hand, although it seemed to them that their young men were too ferocious, none the less took care to see that if (the law) should be transgressed, it should be transgressed by their own and not by the Plebs. And thus the desire of defending liberty caused each to prevail (raise itself) in proportion as they oppressed the other. And the course of such incidents is, that while men sought not to fear, they begun to make others fear, and that injury which they ward off from themselves, they inflict on another, as if it should be necessary either to offend or to be offended. From this may be seen one way among others in which Republics ruin themselves, and in what way men jump from one ambition to another, and how very true is that sentence which Sallust placed in the mouth of Caesar, That all evil examples have their origin in good beginnings. Those ambitious Citizens ((as was said before)) who live in a Republic seek in the first instance not to be able to be harmed, not only by private (citizens), but even by the Magistrates: in order to do this, they seek friendships, and to acquire them either by apparently honest means, or by supplying them money or defending them from the powerful: and as this seems virtuous, everyone is easily deceived and no one takes any remedy against this, until he, persevering without hindrance, becomes of a kind whom the Citizen fear, and the Magistrates treat with consideration. And when he has risen to that rank, and his greatness not having been obviated at the beginning, it finally comes to be most dangerous in attempting to pit oneself against him, for the reasons which I mentioned above concerning the dangers involved in abating an evil which has already grown much in a City; so that the matter in the end is reduced to this, that you need either to seek to extinguish it with the hazard of sudden ruin, or by allowing it to go on, enter into manifest servitude, unless death or some accident frees you from him. For when the Citizens and the Magistrates come to the above mentioned limits and become afraid to offend him and his friends, it will not take much effort afterwards to make them judge and offend according to his will. Whence a Republic, among its institutions, ought to have these, to see that its Citizens under an aura of good are not able to do evil, and that they should acquire that reputation which does good and not harm to liberty, as will be discussed by us in its proper place.

CHAPTER XLVII

MEN, ALTHOUGH THEY DECEIVE THEMSELVES IN GENERAL MATTERS DO NOT DECEIVE THEMSELVES IN THE PARTICULARS

The Roman People ((as was said above)) having become annoyed with the Consular name, and wanting to be able either to choose as Consuls men of the Plebs, or to limit their authority, the Nobility in order not to discredit the Consular authority by either change, took the middle course, and were content that four Tribunes with Consular power be created, who could come from the Plebs as well as from the Nobles. The Plebs were content with this, as it seemed to them to destroy the Consulship and give them a part in the highest ranks. From this a notable case arose, that when it came to the creation of these Tribunes, and they could have selected all Plebs, the Roman people chose all Nobles. Whence Titus Livius says these words: The results of this election show how different minds are when in contention for liberty and for honors, differing according to certain standards when they (have to) make impartial judgments. And in examining whence this can happen, I believe it proceeds from men deceiving themselves in general matters, (and) not so much in particular matters. As a general thing, it appeared to the Roman Pleb that it merited the Consulship because they were the majority in the City, because they bore more of the danger in war, (and) because they were the ones who with their arms maintained Rome free and made it powerful: and this desire seeming to them to be reasonable ((as has been said)), they turned to obtain this authority by whatever means. But when they had to make a judgment of their particular men, recognized their weaknesses, and judged that none of them should merit that which all together it seemed to them they merited. So that ashamed of them (their own), they had recourse to those who merited it. Of which decision Titus Livius, deservingly admiring it, said these words: Where is there now this modesty and equity, and this loftiness of spirit, which once pervaded all the people?

In corroboration of this there can be cited another notable example which ensued in Capua after Hannibal had defeated the Romans at Cannae: while all Italy was aroused by this defeat, Capua was still in a state of tumult because of the hatred that existed between the People and the Senate: and Pacovius Calanus finding himself at that time in the supreme Magistracy, and recognizing the peril to which that City was exposed because of the tumults, endeavored through his rank to reconcile the Plebs with the Nobility: and having come to this decision, he had the Senate assemble, and narrated to them the hatred which the People had against them, and the dangers to which they were exposed of being killed by them, if the City was given up to Hannibal, as the power of the Romans was afflicted: afterwards he added that if they wanted to leave the managing of this matter to him, he would do so in a way that they would be united together; but, as he wanted to do so, he would lock them inside the palace, and by seemingly giving the people the power to castigate them he would save them. The Senate yielded to this thought, and he called the people to talk to them; and having shut up the Senate in the palace, (and) said to them that the time had come to be able to subdue the haughtiness of the Nobility and avenge themselves for the injuries received from them (the Senate), having them all shut up under his custody: but because he believed they would not want their City to remain without a government, it would be necessary ((if they wanted to kill the old Senators)) to create new ones. And, therefore, he had put all the names of the Senators into a bourse and would begin to draw them in their presence, and that one after another of those drawn would die after they should find his successor. And beginning to draw one, at his name, there was raised a very great noise, calling him haughty, cruel and arrogant: but when Pacovius requested that they make the exchange, the haranguing completely stopped: and after some time one of the Plebs was nominated, at whose name some begun to whistle, some to laugh, some to speak ill in one way and some in another: and thus there followed one after the other, that all those who were named were judged by them unworthy of the Senatorial rank: so that Pacovius taking this occasion said: Since you judge that this City would be badly off without a Senate, and you cannot agree to make the exchange of Senators, I think it would be well if you reconciled together, because the fear in which the Senators have been has so humbled them that you will now find in them that humanity which you seek for elsewhere. And they agreeing to this, there ensued the union of these orders, and they discovered, when they were constrained to come to the particulars, the deception.

After one thousand four hundred fourteen (1414) when the Princes of the City had been driven from Florence, and no other government having been instituted, but rather a certain ambitious license, and public affairs going from bad to worse, many of the populari seeing the ruin of the City and not understanding the cause, they blamed the ambitions of some powerful one who would feed the disorders in order to be able to make a State to his own liking and take away their liberty: and there were those who went through the loggias and the plazas speaking ill of many Citizens, and threatening them that if they should ever find themselves (members) of the Signoria, they would uncover this deceit of theirs and would castigate them. It often happened that ones like these did ascend to the supreme Magistracy, and when they had risen to that position and saw things more closely, they recognized whence disorders arose, and the dangers that hung over them, and the difficulty of remedying them. And seeing that the times and not the men were causing the disorders, they quickly were of another mind and acted otherwise, because the knowledge of things in particular had taken away that deception which, in the general consideration, they had presupposed. So that those who at first ((when he was a private citizen)) heard him speak, and afterwards saw them remain quiet in the supreme Magistracy, believed that this resulted not by the more real knowledge of things, but from their having been perverted and corrupted by the Nobles. And as this happened to many men and many times, there arose among them a proverb, which said: These men have one mind in the plaza and another in the palace. Considering, therefore, all that has been discussed, it is seen that the quickest possible way to open the eyes of the People, is by finding a way ((seeing that a generality deceives them)) in which they should have to descend to particulars, as did Pacovius in Capua and the Senate in Rome. I believe also that it can be concluded that no prudent man ought ever to disregard popular judgment in particular matters, (such as) the distribution of dignities and honors, for in this only the People do not deceive themselves, and if they do some times, it will be rare when they deceive themselves more often than do the few men who have to make such distributions. Nor does it seem to me to be superfluous to show in the following chapter the order which the Senate held in order to deceive the People in its distributions.

CHAPTER XLVIII

WHOEVER WANTS A MAGISTRACY NOT TO BE GIVEN TO A VILE OR WICKED ONE, WILL HAVE IT ASKED BY A MAN MORE VILE AND MORE WICKED, OR BY ONE MORE NOBLE AND MORE GOOD

When the (Roman) Senate became apprehensive that the Tribunes with Consular power should be created from plebeian men, they took one of two courses: either they caused the more reputable men of Rome to be designated, or by suitable means they (surely) corrupted some sordid and most ignoble Plebeians, who mixed with the plebeians of better quality who usually asked for these offices, so that even they should ask for them. This latter course caused the Plebs to be ashamed of themselves to give it to the latter, and the first (course) made them ashamed to take it away from the former. All of which confirms the proposition of the preceding discussion, where it is shown that the people deceive themselves in general matters, but they do not deceive themselves in particular matters.

CHAPTER XLIX

IF THOSE CITIES WHICH HAD THEIR BEGINNING FREE AS ROME, HAVE HAD DIFFICULTY IN FINDING LAWS THAT WOULD MAINTAIN THEM, THOSE THAT HAD THEIR BEGINNING IN SERVITUDE HAVE ALMOST AN IMPOSSIBILITY

How difficult it is in establishing a Republic to provide all those laws that should maintain her free, is very well shown by the progress of the Roman Republic, which notwithstanding that it was established with many laws, first by Romulus, and afterwards by Numa, by Tullus Hostilius, and by Servius, and lastly by the Ten Citizens created for such a purpose, none the less in managing that City new needs were always discovered and it was necessary to create new ordinances; as happened when they created the Censors, who were one of those provisions that aided in keeping Rome free during the time she existed in liberty. For having become arbiters of the customs of Rome, they were the most potent cause why the Romans had retarded the further corruption of themselves. In the creation of this Magistracy they indeed made one error at the start, creating them for five years: but a short time later it was corrected by the prudence of the Dictator Mamercus, who, through new laws, reduced the said Magistracy to eighteen months: which the Censors who were then (aging) in office took so badly, that they deprived Mamercus from (treating with) the Senate: which thing was greatly censured both by the Plebs and the Fathers: and as history does not show whether Mamercus was able to defend himself against this, it must be assumed either that history is defective, or that the institutions of Rome in this part were good; for it is not well that a Republic should be so constituted that a Citizen in order to promulgate a law conforming to a free society could be oppressed without any remedy.

But returning to the beginning of this discussion I say, that for creating such a new Magistracy it ought to be considered that, if those Cities which had their beginnings in liberty but become corrupt by themselves, like Rome, have great difficulty in finding good laws for maintaining themselves free, it is not to be wondered at if those which had their beginnings in servitude find it, not difficult, but impossible ever to organize themselves so that they are able to live securely and quietly; this, as is seen, happened to the City of Florence which, for having had its beginnings subject to the Roman Empire, and having always existed under the government of others, remained subject for a long time and without any thought to (freeing) itself: afterward when the opportunity arrived for her to breathe free, she began to make her institutions, which being mixed with ancient ones that were bad, could not be good: and thus she had gone on managing herself for two hundred years of which there exists a true record, without ever having a State (Government) by which she could truly be called a Republic. And these difficulties which existed in her, have always existed in those Cities that have had beginnings similar to hers. And although many times ample authority was given by public and free suffrage to a few Citizens to be able to reform her, yet they have never organized her for the common good, but always in favor of their own party: which made not for order, but for major disorders in that City. And to come to some particular example I say, that among other things that have to be considered by an establisher of a Republic is to examine into whose hands he places the authority of blood (death) over its own Citizens. This was well constituted in Rome, for there one could ordinarily appeal to the People; and even if an important event should occur where the deferring of an execution through the medium of an appeal should be dangerous, they had recourse to the Dictator, who executed it immediately: to which refuge they never had recourse except in necessity. But Florence and other Cities born as she was ((in servitude)) had this authority placed in a foreigner, who, sent by a Prince performed such an office. When they afterwards came into liberty, they kept this authority in a foreigner, whom they called Captain. Which ((because he was able easily to be corrupted by powerful Citizens)) was a pernicious thing. But afterwards changing itself through the changes of governments which they organized, they created the Eight Citizens who should perform the office of that Captain. Which arrangement from bad became worse, for the reasons mentioned at other times, that the few were always ministers of the few and more powerful (citizens).

The City of Venice is guarded from that (abuse), which has (a Council) of Ten Citizens who are able to punish any Citizen without appeal. And as this was not enough to punish the powerful even though they had the authority, they established (the Council) of Forty: And in addition the Council of the Pregadi ((which is the highest council)) had the power to castigate them. So that lacking an accuser, there was not lacking a judge to keep powerful men in check. It is no wonder, therefore, seeing that in Rome (laws) were made by herself with many prudent men, new causes sprung up every day for which she had to make new laws to maintain her free existence, which, if, in other Cities which had disordered beginnings, such difficulties sprung up, they could never reorganize themselves.

CHAPTER L

A COUNCIL OR MAGISTRATE OUGHT NOT TO BE ABLE TO STOP THE ACTIVITIES OF A CITY

When T. Quintus Cincinnatus and Gnaius Julius Mentus were Consuls in Rome, being disunited, they stopped all the activities of that Republic. When the Senate saw this, they advised the creation of a Dictator, in order that he do that which, because of their (Consuls) discords, they could not do. But the Consuls disagreeing on every other thing, were in accord only on this: not to want to create a Dictator. So that the Senate not having any other remedy had recourse to the aid of the Tribunes, who, with the authority of the Senate, forced the Consuls to obey. Here first is to be noted the usefulness of the Tribunes, who were not only useful in restraining the ambitions which the powerful had against the Plebs, but also that which they employed among themselves. The other, that there ought never to be established in a City the ability of a few to interrupt any of its decisions which are ordinarily necessary in maintaining the Republic. For instance, if you give authority to a Council to make a distribution of honors and offices, or to a Magistracy the administration of a business, it is proper either to impose on them the necessity that they must do it in any case, or to arrange that if they did not want to do it themselves, that another can and ought to do it: otherwise this constitution would be defective and dangerous, as was seen it was in Rome, if the authority of the Tribunes could not have been opposed to the obstinacy of those Consuls.

In the Venetian Republic, the grand Council distributes the honors and offices. It sometimes happened that the general public, either from contempt or from some false suggestions, did not create the successors to the Magistrates of the City and to those who administered their outside Empire. This resulted in a very great disorder, because suddenly both the subject lands and the City itself lacked their legitimate judges, nor could they obtain anything if the majority of that council were not satisfied or deceived. And this inconvenience would have brought that City to a bad end if it had not been foreseen by the prudent Citizens, who taking a convenient opportunity made a law that all the Magistrates who are or should be inside or outside the City should never vacate their offices until exchanges with their successors were made. And thus was removed from that council the evil of being able with peril to the Republic to stop public activities.

CHAPTER LI

A REPUBLIC OR A PRINCE OUGHT TO FEIGN TO DO THROUGH LIBERALITY, THAT WHICH NECESSITY CONSTRAINS THEM

Prudent men always make the best of things in their actions, although necessity should constrain them to do them in any case. This prudence was well employed by the Roman Senate when they decided that a public stipend be given to the fighting men, it having been the military custom of they maintaining their own selves. But the Senate seeing that war could not be made for any length of time in this manner, and, because of this, they could neither besiege towns nor lead armies to a distance, and judging it to be necessary to be able to do the one and the other, decided that the said stipends be given: but they did it in such a way that they made the best of that which necessity constrained them to do; and this present was so accepted by the Plebs, that Rome went upside down with joy; for it seemed to them to be a great benefit which they never hoped to have, and which they would never have sought by themselves. And although the Tribunes endeavored to cancel this decree, showing that it was something that aggravated and not lightened the burden ((it being necessary to impose tributes to pay this stipend)), none the less they could not do much to keep the Plebs from accepting it: which was further increased by the Senate by the method by which they assigned the tributes, for those that were imposed on the Nobles were more serious and larger, and the first (required) to be paid.

CHAPTER LII

TO REPRIMAND THE INSOLENCE OF A POWERFUL ONE WHO SPRINGS UP IN A REPUBLIC, THERE IS NO MORE SECURE AND LESS TROUBLESOME WAY THAN TO FORESTALL HIM THOSE WAYS BY WHICH HE COMES TO POWER

It will be seen from the above written discourse, how much credit the Nobility had acquired with the Plebs because of the demonstrations made to their benefit, both by the stipends ordered, as well also as the method of imposing the tributes. If the Nobility had maintained themselves in this order they would have removed every cause for tumult in that City, and this would have taken away from the Tribunes that credit which they had with the Plebs, and consequently their authority. And, truly, there cannot exist in a Republic, and especially in those that are corrupt, a better method, less troublesome and more easily opposed to the ambitions of any Citizen, than to forestall him those ways by which he observes to be the paths to attain the rank he designates. Which method, if it had been employed against Cosimo De’Medici, would have been a much better procedure for his adversaries than to have driven him out of Florence: for if those Citizens who were competing against him had taken his style of favoring the People, they would have succeeded without tumult and without violence in drawing from his hands the arms which he availed himself of most.

Piero Soderini had made a reputation for himself in the City of Florence alone by favoring the General Public; this among the People gave him the reputation as a lover of liberty in the City. And certainly it would have been an easier and more honest thing for those Citizens who envied him for his greatness, (and) less dangerous and less harmful to the Republic, for them to have forestalled him in the ways by which he made himself great, than to want to oppose him in such a way that with his ruin, all the rest of the Republic should be ruined; for if they had taken away from his hands those arms which made him strong ((which they could have done easily)) they could have opposed him in all the councils and all the public deliberations boldly and without suspicion. And if anyone should reply that if those Citizens who hated Piero made an error in not forestalling him the ways with which he gained reputation for himself among the People, Piero also made an error in not forestalling him those ways by which his adversaries made him be feared: for which Piero merits to be excused, as much because it was difficult for him to have done so, as also because it was not honest for him: For the means with which he was attacked were to favor the Medici, with which favors they beat him and, in the end, ruined him. Piero, therefore, could not honestly take up this part in order that he could destroy that liberty by his good name, to which he had been put in charge to guard: Moreover, these favors not being able to be done suddenly and secretly, would have been most dangerous for Piero; for whenever he should be discovered to be a friend of the Medici, he would have become suspect and hated by the People: whence there arose more opportunities to his enemies to attack him than they had before.

In every proceeding, therefore, men ought to consider the defects and perils which it (presents), and not to undertake it if it should be more dangerous than useful, notwithstanding the result should conform to their decision: for to do otherwise in this case it would happen to them as it happened to Tullius (Cicero), who, wanting to take away the favors from Marcantonio, increased them for him: for Marcantonio having been judged an enemy of the Senate, and having gathered together that great army in good part from the soldiers who had been followers of Caesar’s party, Tullius, in order to deprive him of those soldiers advised the Senate to give authority to Octavian and send him with the army and the Consuls against him (Antony) and join the latter (Octavian), and thus Marcantonio remaining bereft of favor, would easily be destroyed. Which (thing) turned out to the contrary, for Marcantonio won over Octavian to himself, who, leaving Tullius and the Senate, joined him. Which (thing) brought about the complete destruction of the party of the Aristocracy (Patricians). Which was easy to foresee, and that which Tullius advised should not have been believed, but should have kept account always that name which, with so much glory, had destroyed his enemies and acquired for him the Principality of Rome, and they ought never to have believed they could expect anything from his supporters favorable to liberty.

CHAPTER LIII

THE PEOPLE MANY TIMES DESIRE THEIR RUIN, DECEIVED BY A FALSE SPECIES OF GOOD: AND HOW GREAT HOPES AND STRONG PROMISES EASILY MOVE THEM

After conquering the City of the Veienti, there entered into the Roman People the idea that it would be a useful thing for the City of Rome if one half of the Romans should go and live at Veii, arguing that because that City was rich in countryside, full of buildings, and near to Rome, it could enrich the half of the Roman Citizens and not disturb any civil activities because of the nearness of the location. Which thing appeared to the Senate and the wiser Romans so useless and so harmful, that they said freely they would rather suffer death than consent to such a decision. So that this subject coming up for debate, the Plebs were so excited against the Senate that it would have come to arms and bloodshed if the Senate had not made itself a shield of some old and esteemed Citizens, reverence for whom restrained the Plebs so that they did not proceed any further with their insolence. Here, two things are to be noted. The first, that many times, deceived by a false illusion of good, the People desire their own ruin, and unless they are made aware of what is bad and what is good by someone in whom they have faith, the Republic is subjected to infinite dangers and damage. And if chance causes People not to have faith in anyone ((as occurs sometimes, having been deceived before either by events or by men)), their ruin comes of necessity. And Dante says of his proposition in the discussion he makes in De Monarchia (On Monarchy), that the People many times shout, Life to their death and death to their life. From this unbelief it sometimes happens in Republics that good proceedings are not undertaken, as was said above of the Venetians who, when assaulted by so many enemies could not undertake a procedure of gaining some of them over to themselves by giving to them things taken from others; because of this war was moved against them and a conspiracy of (other) Princes made against them, before their ruin had come.

Considering therefore what is easy and what is difficult to persuade a People to, this distinction can be made: either that which you have to persuade them to represents at first sight a gain or a loss, or truly it appears a courageous or cowardly proceeding: and if, in the things that are placed in front of the people, there is seen a gain even though it is concealed under a loss, and if it appears courageous even though it is hidden beneath the ruin of the Republic, it will always be easy to persuade the multitude to it: and thus it will always be difficult to persuade them of those proceedings where either some usefulness or loss is apparent, even though the welfare and benefit (of the Republic) were hidden under it. This that I have said is confirmed by infinite examples, Roman and foreign, modern and ancient.

For, from this, there arose the evil opinion that sprung up in Rome of Fabius Maximus, who could not persuade the Roman people that it was useless to that Republic to proceed slowly in that war, and to sustain the attack of Hannibal without engaging in battle, because that people judged this proceeding cowardly, and did not see what usefulness there should be in that, and Fabius did not have sufficient cause to demonstrate it to them: and the People are so blinded on these ideas of bravery, that although the Roman People had made that error of giving authority to the Master of the horse of Fabius to enable him to engage in battle, even though Fabius did not want to, and that because of this authority the Roman camp would have been broken up except for the prudence of Fabius which remedied it; this experience was not enough for them, for they afterwards made Varro Consul, not for any of his merits but for having promised throughout all the plazas and public places of Rome to rout Hannibal anytime he should be given the authority. From this came the battle and defeat of Cannae, and almost caused the ruin of Rome. I want to cite on this proposition another Roman example. Hannibal had been in Italy eight or ten years, had filled this province with killings of Romans, when M. Centenius Penula came to the Senate, a very base man ((none the less he had some rank in the military)), and offered them that if they gave him authority to be able to raise an army of volunteers in any place in Italy he wished, he would in a very short time give them Hannibal, either taken or dead. The demands of this man appeared foolish to the Senate: none the less thinking that if they should deny him this, his request would be later known by the People, that there might arise some tumult, envy, and ill will against the Senatorial order, they conceded it to him; desiring rather to put in danger all those who followed him than to cause new indignation to spring up among the People, knowing how much a like proceeding would be accepted and how difficult it would be to dissuade them. This man, therefore, with an unorganized and undisciplined multitude went to meet Hannibal, and he no sooner had come to the encounter than he, with all his followers, were routed and killed.

In Greece in the City of Athens, Nicias, a most serious and prudent man, never could persuade that people that it would not be good to go and assault Sicily, so that this decision taken against the will of the wise caused the complete ruin of Athens. When Scipio was made Consul and desired the province of Africa, he promised to everyone the ruin of Carthage; when the Senate did not agree to this because of the verdict of Fabius Maximus, he threatened to bring it before the People, as he very well knew that such decisions were liked by the People.

On this proposition an example can be given of our own City, as it was when Messer Ercole Bentivogli, commander of the Florentine forces, together with Antonio Giacomini, after having defeated Bartolomeo D’Alvino at San Vincenti, went to besiege Pisa: which enterprise was decided upon by the People on the brave promises of Messer Ercole, although many of the wise Citizens censured it: none the less there was no remedy, being pushed by that desire of the general public which was based on the brave promises of the commander.

I say, therefore, that there is no easier way to ruin a Republic where the People have authority, than to involve them in a brave enterprise: because where the People are of any importance, they will always accept them, nor will there be anyone of contrary opinion who will know any remedy. But if the ruin of the City results from this, there also and more often results the ruin of the particular Citizens who are in charge of such enterprises: for the People having expected victory, if defeat comes, they do not blame fortune or the impotence of those who commanded, but their wickedness and ignorance, but most of the times they either kill or imprison them, or exile them, as happened to infinite Carthaginian Captains and to many Athenians. Nor do any victories that they might have had in the past benefit them, because they are all cancelled by the present defeat, as happened to our Antonio Giacomini, who, not having conquered Pisa as he promised and the People expected, fell into such popular disgrace that, notwithstanding his past infinite good works, he (was allowed to) live more because of the humanity of those who had authority who defended him from the People than for any other reason.

CHAPTER LIV

HOW MUCH AUTHORITY A GREAT MAN HAS IN RESTRAINING AN EXCITED MULTITUDE (MOB)

The second notable item mentioned in the text of the above chapter is, that nothing is so apt to restrain an excited multitude (mob) as the reverence (inspired) by some man of gravity and authority who encounters them; and not without reason Virgil says:

  When they saw a man of grave aspect and strong with merit

  They became silent, and stood with eager ears.

Therefore, he who is in charge of an army, or he who finds himself in a City where a tumult has arisen, ought to present himself there with as much grace and as honorably as he can, attiring himself with the insignia of his rank which he holds in order to make himself more revered. A few years ago Florence was divided into two factions, who called themselves, thusly, the Frateschi (Brotherly) and Arrabiati (Angered); and coming to arms, the Frateschi were defeated, among whom was Pagolantonio Soderini, a Citizen greatly reputed in those times; and during those tumults the People went armed to his house to sack it, Messer Francesco, his brother, then Bishop of Volterra and today Cardinal, by chance found himself in the house; who, as soon as he heard the noise and saw the disturbance, dressed himself in his most dignified clothes and over them put on his Episcopal surplice, and went to meet those armed ones, and with his person and his words stopped them: which (thing) was talked about and celebrated throughout the City for many days.

I conclude, therefore, that there is no sounder or more necessary remedy to restrain an excited multitude than the presence of a man who by his presence appears and is revered. It is seen, therefore, ((to return to the preceding text)) with how much obstinacy the Roman Plebs accepted that proceeding of going to Veii because they judged it useful, but did not recognize the danger that existed underneath this; and that the many tumults which arose there would cause troubles, if the Senate with serious men (and) full of reverence had not restrained their fury.

CHAPTER LV

HOW EASILY THINGS ARE MANAGED IN THAT CITY WHERE THE MULTITUDE IS NOT CORRUPT, AND THAT WHERE THERE IS EQUALITY A PRINCIPALITY CANNOT BE ESTABLISHED, AND WHERE THERE IS NONE A REPUBLIC CANNOT BE ESTABLISHED

Although above there has been much discussed that which is to be feared or to be hoped for in corrupt Cities, none the less it does not seem to me outside this subject to consider a decision of the Senate concerning the vow that Camillus had made to give the tenth part of the plunder of the Veienti to Apollo: which plunder having come into the hands of the Roman Pleb, and being unable otherwise to review the account of it, the Senate made and edict that everyone should present to the Republic the tenth part of that which they had plundered. And although such a decision was not put into effect, the Senate afterwards having taken other ways and means for satisfying Apollo in fulfillment for the Pleb, none the less from such decisions it is seen how much the Senate confided in them (the People), and how they judged that no one would not present exactly all that which was commanded of them by the edict. And on the other hand, it is seen how the Pleb did not think of evading the edict in any part by giving less than they ought, but to relieve themselves of this by showing open indignation. This example, together with many others that have been recited above, show how much goodness and religion there was in that People, and how much good there was to be hoped for from them. And, truly, when this goodness does not exist, no good is to be hoped for, as can be hoped for in those provinces which, in these times, are seen to be corrupt, as is Italy above all others, even though France and Spain have their part of such corruption. And, if in those provinces, there are not seen as many disorders as arise in Italy every day, it derives not so much from the goodness of the people ((which in good part is lacking)) as from having a King who keeps them united, not only by his virtu, but by the institutions of those Kingdoms which are yet unspoiled.

In the province of Germany this goodness and this religion is seen to exist in great (measure) in those People, which makes for the existence of many Republics in freedom, and they so observe the laws that no one from inside or outside dares to attack them. And that this is true that in their kingdom there yet exists a good part of that ancient goodness, I would like to give an example similar to that given above of the Senate and the Roman Pleb. When it occurred in those Republics that they had to spend any quantity of money for public account, those Magistrates or Councils who had the authority imposed on all the inhabitants of the City (a tax) of one or two percent of what each one had of value. And such decision being made in accordance with the laws of the land everyone presented himself before the collectors of this impost, and first taking an oath to pay the right sum, he threw into a box provided for that purpose that which it appeared to him according to his conscience he ought to pay: to which payment there was no witness other than he who paid. From which it can be conjectured how much goodness and how much religion still exists in those people. And it ought to be noted that every one paid the true amount, for if it had not been paid, the impost would not have yielded that amount which they had planned in accordance with previous ones that had been taken, and if they had not yielded (this amount), the fraud would be recognized, and if it had been recognized other means than this would have been taken. Which goodness is much more to be admired in these times as it is very rare; rather, it is seen to be remaining only in that province: which result from two things; the one, that they do not have great commerce with their neighbors, for others have not come to their homes nor have they gone to the homes of others, but have been content with those goods, live on those foods, clothe themselves with the wool which the country provides, which has taken away any reason for intercourse and (consequently) the beginning of any corruption: hence they have not been able to take up the customs of the French, of the Spanish, or of the Italians, which nations all together are the corrupters of the world. The other cause, is that that Republic, whose political existence is maintained uncorrupted, does not permit that any of its Citizens to be or live in the manner of a Gentleman, instead maintain among themselves a perfect equality, and are the greatest enemies of those Lords and Gentlemen who are in that province: and if, by chance, any should come into their hands, they kill them as being Princes of corruption and the cause of every trouble.

And to clarify what is (meant by) this name of Gentleman, I say that those are called Gentlemen who live idly on the provisions of their abundant possessions, without having any care either to cultivate or to do any other work in order to live. Such as these are pernicious to every Republic and to every Province: but more pernicious are those who, in addition to the above mentioned fortune, also command castles, and have subjects who obey them. Of these two sorts of men, the Kingdom of Naples, the Lands of Rome, the Romagna, and Lombardy, are full. From which it happens that there never has been a Republic in those provinces, nor any political existence (system), because such kinds of men are all enemies of every civil society. And in provinces so constituted, to want to introduce a Republic would be impossible. But only an arbiter (monarch) would recognize it, and he would have no other means but to establish a Kingdom: the reason is this, that when the body of people is so corrupted that the laws are not sufficient to restrain it, there needs to be established there that superior force, which is the Royal hand that, with absolute and full power, places a restraint to the excessive ambitions and corruption of the Powerful. This (cause) is verified by the example of Tuscany, where one sees in a small extent of land there have existed for a long time three Republics, Florence, Siena, and Lucca; and although the other Cities of that Province are in a way subject to these, yet, by their spirit and their institutions, it is seen that they maintain, or attempt to maintain, their liberty: all of which arises from there not being any lords of castles in that province, and few or no Gentlemen: but there exists so much equality, that it would be easy for a prudent man who had knowledge of ancient civilizations, to introduce a civil government there. But its misfortunes have been so great, that up to these times not any one has come forth who has been able to or known how to do it.

From this discussion, therefore, this conclusion is drawn, that he who would want to establish a Republic where there are many Gentlemen, cannot do so unless first he extinguishes them all; and that he who would want to establish a Kingdom or a Principality where there is great equality, will never be able to do so unless he withdraws from that equality many of the ambitious and unquiet spirits, and makes them Gentlemen in fact and not in name, giving them castles and possessions, as well as giving them aid of men and money, so that surrounded by these he can through them maintain his power, and they through his support can maintain their ambitions, and the others constrained to endure that yoke which force and nothing else could make them endure. And, because of this, there being a proportion of those who force and those who are forced, each man will remain firm in his rank. And as the establishing of a Republic in a province better adapted to being a Kingdom, or to establishing a Kingdom in one better adapted to being a Republic, is a matter for one who in brains and authority is rare, there have been many who have wanted to do so, but few only who have known how to bring it about. For the greatness of the undertaking in part frightens them and in part stops them, so that they fail in the very beginning. I believe that this opinion of mine, that a Republic cannot be established where there are Gentlemen, appears contrary to the experience of the Venetian Republic, in which none could have any rank except those who were Gentlemen. To which it is answered that this example does not oppose it, for the Gentlemen in that Republic are more so in name than in fact, as they do not have great incomes from possessions, their riches being founded on commerce and movable property: and, in addition, none of them have castles or any jurisdiction over men; but in them that name of Gentleman is a name of dignity and reputation, without being based on those things on which men are called Gentlemen in other Cities. And as other Republics have all their divisions (of classes) under various names, so Venice is divided into Gentlemen and Popolari, and wants that the former can have all the honors, from which all others are entirely excluded. This does not cause disorders in those towns for the reasons mentioned at other times. Republics, therefore, can be established where a great equality exists or can be established, and, on the contrary, a Principality can be established where a great inequality exists; otherwise they will lack proportion and have little durability.

CHAPTER LVI

BEFORE GREAT EVENTS OCCUR IN A CITY OR A PROVINCE, SIGNS COME WHICH FORETELL THEM, OR MEN WHO PREDICT THEM

Whence it arises I do not know, but from ancient and modern examples it is seen that no great event ever takes place in a City or a Province that has not been predicted either by fortune tellers, by revelations, by prodigies, or by other celestial signs. And in order for me not to go distant from home in proving this, everyone knows how the coming of King Charles VIII of France into Italy was predicted by Brother Girolamo Savonarola, and how in addition to this it was said throughout Italy that at Arezzo there had been seen in the air men-at-arms battling together. In addition to this, everyone knows how, before the death of Lorenzo De’Medici the elder, the Duomo was hit in its highest part by a bolt from the skies which very greatly damaged that edifice. Also everyone knows how, a little while before Piero Soderini, who had been made Gonfalonier for life by the Florentine people, had been driven out and deprived of his rank, the palace was struck in the same manner by a (lightning) stroke. I could cite other examples in addition to these, which I will omit to avoid tedium. I shall narrate only that which T. Livius tells of before the coming of the French (Gauls) to Rome, that is, how one Marcus Creditus, a Pleb, reported to the Senate that, passing at midnight through the Via Nova (New Road), he had heard a voice louder than human which admonished him that he should report to the Magistrates that the Gauls were coming to Rome. The cause of this I believe should be discussed and interpreted by a man who has knowledge of natural and supernatural things, which I have not. But it could be, as some Philosophers hold, that this air being so full of spirits, having an intelligence which by natural virtu foresee future events, and having compassion for men, so that they can warn them by such signs to prepare for defense. But, however it may be, such is the truth, (and) that always after such incidents there follows things extraordinary and new in the provinces.

CHAPTER LVII

TOGETHER THE PLEBS ARE STRONG, DISPERSED THEY ARE WEAK

There were many Romans ((after the ruin of their country had ensued because of the passage of the Gauls)) who had gone to live at Veii contrary to the constitution and orders of the Senate, which, in order to remedy this disorder, commanded through its public edicts that everyone within a certain time and under certain penalties should return to inhabit Rome. Which edict at first was made light of by those against whom it was made, but afterwards when the time came for obeying it, they all obeyed. And Titus Livius said these words, From being ferocious when together, fear made them individually obedient. And truly this part of the nature of the multitude cannot be better shown than by this sentence. For the multitude many times is audacious in speaking against the decision of their Prince: but afterwards, when they see the penalty in sight, not trusting one another, they run to obey. So that it is certainly to be seen that whatever may be said of a People about their good or bad disposition, ought not to be held of great account, if you are well prepared to be able to maintain your authority if they are well disposed, and if they are ill-disposed, to be able to provide that they do not attack you. This refers to those evil dispositions which the People have from causes other than their having lost either their liberty or their Prince much loved by them, but who is still living: for the evil dispositions that arise from these causes are formidable above every thing, and have need of great remedies to restrain them: their indispositions from other (causes) are easily managed if they do not have Chiefs to whom they have recourse, for, on the one hand, there is nothing more formidable than a multitude loose and without a Head, and on the other hand, there is nothing weaker, because whenever they have arms in their hands it is easy to subdue them, if you have a shelter which enables you to avoid their first attack: for when their spirits are cooled down a little, and each one sees that he has to return to his house, they begin to be distrustful of themselves, and to think of their individual safety either by fleeing or surrendering themselves. A multitude so excited, therefore, in wanting to escape these perils, has promptly to make a Head among themselves, who would control it, keep it united, and think of its defense, as the Roman plebs did when, after the death of Virginius, they departed from Rome, and to save themselves created twenty Tribunes from among themselves: and if they do not do this, it will always happen as T. Livius said in the above written words, that all together they are strong, but when each one then begins to think of his own peril, they become vile and weak.

CHAPTER LVIII

THE MULTITUDE IS WISER AND MORE CONSTANT THAN A PRINCE

Nothing is more vain and more inconstant than the multitude, so our T. Livius and all other Historians affirm. For it often occurs in narrating the actions of men to observe the multitude to have condemned some one to death, and that same (multitude) afterwards weeping and very much wishing him back; as is seen the Roman people did in the case of Manlius Capitolinus, who, having condemned him to death, afterwards most earnestly desired him back. And the words of the author are these: As soon as they knew there was no peril from, they desired to have him back. And elsewhere, where he tells of the incidents which arose in Syracuse after the death of Hieronymus, nephew of Hiero, says: It is the nature of multitude, either to serve humbly, or to dominate haughtily. I do not know, in wanting to defend a thing which ((as I have said)) is accused by all writers, if I were to undertake a cause so hard and full of difficulty, that I would have either to abandon it in shame, or to go on with it burdensomely. But however it may be, I do not judge, or will ever judge, it to be a defect to defend any opinion with arguments, without wanting to employ either authority or force.

I say, therefore, the individual men, and especially Princes, can be accused of that defect which the writers accuse the multitudes; for anyone who is not controlled by the laws, will make the same errors as a loose multitude. And this can be easily observed, for there are and there have been many Princes, but of the good and wise ones there have been only a few, I say, of those Princes who have been able to break that restraint which could control them; among whom are not those Kings who arose in Egypt in that ancient period when that province was governed by laws, nor those who arose in Sparta, nor those who have risen in France in our times, which Kingdom is more regulated by laws than any other Kingdom of our times of which there is knowledge. And these Kingdoms which arise under such constitutions are not to be placed in that number whence the nature of each man individually has to be considered, and to see if he is like the multitude; for alongside them there ought to be placed a multitude controlled by laws in the same way as they (the Kings) were, and the same goodness will be found in them as we see in (the Kings), and we will see that they serve neither haughtily nor humbly; as was the Roman People, who while the Republic remained incorrupt, never served humbly or ruled insolently, but rather with its institutions and Magistracies held its rank honorably. And when it was necessary to spring up against a powerful one who was harming them, they did so, as was seen with Manlius and the Ten, and others who sought to oppress them; and so also when it was necessary for the public safety to obey the Dictators and Consuls. And if the Roman People desired Manlius Capitolinus after his death, it is not to be wondered at, for they desired his virtu, which had been such that the memory of them brought compassion to everyone, and would have had the power to cause that same result in any Prince, for it is the verdict of all writers that virtu is lauded and admired even in ones enemies: and if so much desire could have restored him, the Roman people would have given him the same judgment as they did when they took him from prison, a little before they condemned him to death: and as was also seen of Princes held to be wise, who have had some persons put to death and then greatly regretted it, as Alexander with Clitus and his other friends, and Herod with Mariamne: But that which our Historian says of the nature of the multitude, he does not say of those who were regulated by laws, such as were the Romans, but of an unbridled multitude, as was that of Syracuse, which made those errors which infuriated and unbridled men make, and as Alexander and Herod did in the abovementioned cases.

The nature of the multitude, therefore, is not to be blamed any more than that of Princes, for they all err equally when they all are able to err without control. Of which, in addition to what I have said, there are many examples, both from among the Roman Emperors and from among other Tyrants and Princes, where so much inconstancy and recklessness of life is observed, as is ever found in any multitude. I conclude therefore, contrary to the common opinion which says that the People, when they are Princes, are changeable and ungrateful, affirming that there are no more of these defects in them than there are in particular Princes: And to accuse the People and the Princes together can be the truth; but to except the Princes would be a deception: For a People that commands and is well organized will be stable, prudent, grateful, and not otherwise than a Prince, or even better than a Prince, although he be esteemed wise. And on the other hand, a Prince loosened from the (control) of the laws, will be ungrateful, inconstant, and more imprudent than a people. And that difference in their proceedings arises, not from the different nature, ((for it is the same in everyone, and if there is an advantage for good, it is in the People)) but from the more or less respect they have for the laws under which one and the other live. And whoever considers the Roman people will see that for four hundred years they have been enemies of the name of Royalty and lovers of glory and of the common good of their country: He will see so many examples employed by them which testify to the one thing and the other. And if anyone should allege to me the ingratitude that they (the Roman people) showed against Scipio, I will reply that which was discussed above at length on this subject, where it has been shown that people are less ungrateful than Princes. But as to prudence and stability, I say, that a people is more prudent, more stable, and of better judgment than a Prince: And not without reason is the voice of the people like that of God, for a universal opinion is seen causes marvelous effects in its prognostication, so that it would seem that by some hidden virtu, evil or good is foreseen. As to the judging of things, it is rarely seen that when they hear two speakers who hold opposite views, if they are of equal virtu, they do not take up the the better opinion, and they are capable of seeing the truth in what they hear. And if ((as has been said above)) they err in things concerning bravery, or which appear useful, a Prince also errs many times in his own passions, which are much greater than those of the people. It will also be seen that in the election of their magistrates, they make by far a better selection than a Prince, but a people will never be persuaded that it is better to bring to that dignity a man of infamous and corrupt habits: to which a Prince may be persuaded easily and in a thousand ways. It will be seen that when a people begin to hold a thing in horror, they remain in that opinion for many centuries, which is not seen in a Prince. And on both of these two things, the testimony of the Roman people will suffice for me, who, in so many hundreds of years, in so many elections of Consuls and Tribunes, they did not make four elections of which they had to repent. And ((as I have said)) they held the name of Royalty in so much hatred, that no obligation to any of its Citizens who should seize that title would enable him to escape the merited penalty. In addition to this, it will be seen that the Cities where the people are Princes, make the greatest progress in the shortest time and much greater than those who have always been under a Prince, as Rome did after the driving out of the Kings, and Athens did after they were free of Pisistratus. Which cannot arise except that those governments of the people are better than those of the Princes.

Nor do I want that there should be opposed to my opinion all that which our Historian has said in the aforementioned text and in any other; for if there should be discussed all the disorders of the People, all the disorders of the Princes, all the glories of the People, all those of the Princes, it will be seen that the People are far superior in goodness and in glory. And if Princes are superior to the people in instituting laws, forming civil governments, make new statutes and ordinances, the People are so much superior in maintaining the institutions which will add to the glory of those who established them.

And in sum to epilogue this material, I say that the States of the Princes have lasted a long time, the States of the Republics have lasted a long time, and both have had need to be regulated by laws; for a Prince who can do what he wants is a madman, and a People which can do as it wants to is not wise. If, therefore, discussion is to be had of a Prince obligated by laws, and of a People unobligated by them, more virtu will be observed in the People than in Princes: if the discussion is to be had of both loosened (from such control), fewer errors will be observed in the People than in the Princes, and those that are fewer have the greater remedies: For a licentious and tumultuous People can be talked to by a good man, and can easily be returned to the good path: (but) there is no one who can talk to a Prince, nor is there any other remedy but steel (sword). From which the conjecture can be made of the maladies of the one and the other: that if words are enough to cure the malady of the People, and that of the Prince needs the sword, there will never be anyone who will not judge that where the greater cure is required, they are where the greater errors exist. When a People is indeed unbridled, the foolishness that they do is not to be feared, nor is fear to be had of the present malady, but of that which can arise, a Tyrant being able to rise up amidst so much confusion. But the contrary happens in the case of bad Princes, where the present evil is feared, and there is hope for the future, men persuading themselves that the (termination) of their lives can make liberty spring up. Thus the difference between the one and the other is seen, that one concerns things that are, the other of things that will be. The cruelties of the multitude are (directed) against those whom they fear will oppose the common good, those of a Prince are (directed) against those whom he fears will oppose his own good. But the opinion against the People arises because everyone speaks evil of the people freely and without fear even while they reign; of the Princes they talk with a thousand fears and a thousand apprehensions. And it does not appear to me to be outside this subject ((for this matter draws me there)) to discuss in the following chapter whether alliances made with a Republic, or those made with a Prince, can be trusted.

CHAPTER LIX

WHICH ALLIANCES OR LEAGUES CAN BE TRUSTED, WHETHER THOSE MADE WITH A REPUBLIC OR THOSE MADE WITH A PRINCE

As there occurs every day that Princes or Republics make leagues and friendships between themselves, and also similarly alliances and accords are drawn between a Republic and a Prince, it appears to me proper to examine whose faith is more stable, and which ought to be held more in account, that of a Republic or that of a Prince. In examining everything, I believe that in many cases they are the same, and in some there is a difference. I believe, therefore, that accords made by force will not be observed either by a Prince or by a Republic: I believe that when fear of (losing) the State comes to pass, both will break the faith in order not to lose it, and will serve you ingratitude. Demetrius, who was called Conqueror of Cities, had given infinite benefits to the Athenians: it happened that later, having been routed by his enemies and taking refuge in Athens as a City friendly and obligated to him, was not received by her: which saddened him much more than had the loss of his forces and his army; Pompey, having been routed by Caesar in Thessaly, took refuge in Egypt with Ptolemy, who, in the past he had reinstated in his Kingdom, but was put to death by him. Which instances, it is seen, have the same reasons; none the less it was more humanely employed by a Republic and with less injury, than by the Prince. Where there is fear, therefore, there will be found in each the same (loss of) faith. And if in either a Republic or a Prince it is found that they observe the faith even if ruin may be expected, this also may arise from similar reasons. For it can very well occur that a Prince, who is a friend of a powerful Prince (and) who may not then have the opportunity to defend him, can hope that with time he (the latter) will restore his Principality to him; or believe he will find either faith or accords with his enemies. Of this kind have been the Princes of the Kingdom of Naples who have followed the French side. And as for Republics, Saguntum in Spain was of this kind, which hazarded her own ruin in order to follow the Roman side, and with Florence in MDXII (1512) in order to follow the French side. And I believe, taking everything into account, that in such cases where danger is imminent, there will be found greater stability in the Republics than in Princes: For even if the Republics had the same spirit and the same wants as Princes, their movements being slower will always make them take longer to form resolutions than Princes, and because of this they will be less prompt in breaking their faith.

Alliances are broken for usefulness. In this, Republics are more careful in the observance of accords than Princes. And it is possible to cite examples where a minimum of usefulness has caused a Prince to break his faith, and where a great usefulness has not caused faith to be broken by a Republic; as was that proceeding which Themosticles proposed to the Athenians, to whom in his speech he said he had a counsel that would be of great usefulness to their country, but could not tell it so as not to disclose it for discovering it would take away the opportunity of doing it. Whence the people of Athens elected Aristedes to whom he should confide the matter, and according to which they would later decide as it might appear to them: whereupon Themosticles showed that the fleet of all Greece, although they were under their faith, was in such a position that they could easily win it for themselves or destroy it, which would make the Athenians the arbiters of that Province. Whence Aristedes reported back to the people that the proposal of Themosticles was most useful, but most dishonest: for which reason the people rejected it entirely, which would not have been done by Philip the Macedonian and the other Princes who had looked for more usefulness, and who had gained more by breaking the faith than by any other means.

Of the breaking of pacts because of some cause for non-observance, I will not speak, as it is an ordinary thing: but I will talk of those that are broken for extraordinary reasons, where I believe, from the things said, that the people make fewer errors than Princes, and because of this, they can be trusted more than Princes.

CHAPTER LX

HOW THE CONSULSHIP AND EVERY OTHER MAGISTRACY IN ROME OUGHT TO BE (BESTOWED) WITHOUT ANY REGARD TO AGE

And it is to be seen from the course of History that the Roman Republic, after the Consulship came to the Pleb, admitted all its Citizens (to this dignity) without regard to age or blood (birth), even though the regard to age never existed in Rome as they always went to find virtu, whether it was in young men or old. This is seen from the testimony of Valerius Corvinus who was made Consul at twenty three years (of age); and Valerius said, talking to his soldiers, that the Consulship was the reward of virtu, not of blood. Which thing can be much discussed, whether or not it is well considered. As to blood (birth), this was conceded because of necessity, and this same necessity which existed in Rome would also be found in every City that wanted to have the same success as Rome had, as has been said at another time; for hardships cannot be given to men without reward, nor can the hope of obtaining the reward be taken away without peril. And it was proper, therefore, that the plebs should have the hope of obtaining the Consulship, and that they should nourish this hope for a time, without attaining it: When afterward the hope was not enough, they had to arrive at that result (the Consulship). The City that does not admit its Plebs to any of its glory, can treat them in their own way, as has been discussed elsewhere; but that City which wants to accomplish that which Rome did, cannot make this distinction.

And given that it is so (as regards birth), the question of age needs no reply, rather it is necessarily disposed of; for in electing a young man to a rank which has need of the prudence of an old man, it happens ((the multitude having to elect him)) that he should come to that rank through some noble action that he should make. And when a young man is of such great virtu as to have made himself known by some notable thing, it would be a very harmful thing if that City should not then be able to avail itself of him, and that it should have to wait until he should have aged (and) that age deprive him of that vigor of spirit and activity of which (at that age) his country should avail itself, as Rome availed itself of Valerius Corvinus, of Scipio, of Pompey, and of many other who triumphed when very young.

SECOND BOOK

PREFACE

Men always praise ((but not always reasonably)) the ancient times and find fault with the present; and they are such partisans of things past, that they celebrate not only that age which has been recalled to their memory by known writers, but those also ((being now old)) which they remember having seen in their youth. And when this opinion of theirs is false ((as it is most of the times)) I am persuaded the reasons by which they are led to such deception are various. And the first I believe is that the whole truth which would bring out the infamy of those times, and they amplify and magnify those others that could bring forth their glory. Moreover, the greater number of writers so obey the fortune of the winners that, in order to make their victories glorious, they not only exaggerate that which is gotten by their own virtu, but they also exaggerate the actions of the enemies; so that whoever afterwards is born in either of the two provinces, both the victorious and the defeated ones, has cause to marvel at those men and times, and is forced summarily to praise and love them. In addition to this, men hating things either from fear or envy, these two reasons for hating past events come to be extinguished, as they are not able to offend or give cause for envy of them. But the contrary happens with those things that are (presently) in operation and are seen, which because you have a complete knowledge of them as they are not in any way hidden from you; and knowing the good together with the many other things which are displeasing to you, you are constrained to judge the present more inferior than the past, although in truth the present might merit much more of that glory and fame; I do not discuss matters pertaining to the arts, which shine so much by themselves, which time cannot take away or add a little more glory which they merit by themselves; but I speak of those matters pertinent to the lives and customs of men, of which such clear evidences are not seen.

I repeat, therefore, that the custom of praising and blaming as mentioned above is true, but it is not true that you err in doing it. For sometimes of necessity our judgment is the truth, as human affairs are always in motion, either ascending or descending. And we see a City or a Province well-organized in its government by some excellent man, and for a time always progressing toward the better through the virtu of that organizer. He who is born in that state, and praises the past more than the present, deceives himself; and his deception is caused by those things mentioned above. But if they are born in that City or province after the time when it has begun to descend to its bad times, then he does not deceive himself. And in thinking of how these things go on, I judge that the world has always been in the same condition, and that there is as much good as there is bad in it; but this bad and good vary from province to province, as is seen by the historian of those ancient Kingdoms which varied from one another because of the variations in customs, while the world remained the same: the only difference was, that where virtu first found a place in Assyria, it then (moved) to Media, afterwards to Persia, and from there came to Italy and Rome: and if after the Roman Empire no other Empire followed which endured, and where the world kept together all its virtu, none the less it is seen to be scattered in many nations where people lived with virtu, as it was in the Kingdom of the Franks, the Kingdom of the Turks, that of the Soldan (of Egypt), and today the people of Germany, and before then that Saracen Sect which accomplished such great things and occupied so much of the world after having destroyed the Eastern Roman Empire. In all these provinces, therefore, after the Romans fell, the Sects possessed, and yet possess in part, that virtu which is desired and lauded with true praise. And whoever is born in them and praises the times past more than the present, may deceive himself: but whoever is born in Italy and Greece, and has not become either an Ultramontane in Italy or a Turk in Greece, has reason to find fault with his times and to praise the others, for in the past there are many things that make him marvel, but now there is not anything that will compensate for the extreme misery, infamy, and disgrace in these times where there is no observance of religion, of laws, or of military discipline, but are stained by every brutish reasoning. And these vices are even more detestable as they exist more in those who sit in the tribunals, commanding everyone, and desiring to be adored.

But returning to our argument, I say that, if the judgment of men is corrupt in deciding whether the present or the ancient age is better, in those things where because of their antiquity they cannot have a perfect knowledge as they have of their own times, the old men ought not to corrupt themselves in judging the times of their youth and their old age, they having known and seen the latter and the former equally. Which thing would be true if men throughout all the periods of their lives had the same judgment and the same appetites. But as these vary ((although the times do not vary)), things cannot appear the same to those men who have other appetites, other delights, and other considerations in their old age than in their youth. For as men wane ((when they age)) in strength but grow in judgment and prudence, so it is that those things which in their youth appeared supportable and good, will turn out ((as they grow old)) unsupportable and bad, and where they ought to blame their judgment, they blame the times. In addition to this, human appetites being insatiable ((because by nature they have to be able to and want to desire everything, and to be able to effect little for themselves because of fortune)), there arises a continuous discontent in the human mind, and a weariness of the things they possess; which makes them find fault with the present times, praise the past, and desire the future, although in doing this they are not moved by any reasonable cause. I do not know, therefore, whether I merit to be numbered among those who deceive themselves, if in these Discourses of mine I shall laud too much the times of the ancient Romans and censure ours. And truly, if the virtu that then reigned and the vice that now reigns should not be as clear as the Sun, I would be more restrained in talking, being apprehensive of falling into that deception of which I accuse others. But the matter being so manifest that everyone sees it, I shall be bold in saying openly that which I learned of those times and these, so that the minds of the young men who may read my writings can avoid the latter (evils) and imitate the (virtu) of the former, whenever fortune should give them the opportunity. For it is the office of a good man to show others that good which because of the malignity of the times and of fortune, he has not been able to accomplish, so that ((many being capable)) some of those more loved by Heaven can accomplish them.

And having in the discourses of the preceding book talked of the decisions made by the Romans pertinent to the internal affairs of the City, in this (book) we shall talk of that which the Roman people did pertinent to the aggrandizement of their Empire.

CHAPTER I

WHETHER VIRTU OR FORTUNE WAS THE GREATER CAUSE FOR THE EMPIRE WHICH THE ROMANS ACQUIRED

Many (authors), among whom is that most serious writer Plutarch, have had the opinion that the Roman people in acquiring the Empire were favored more by Fortune than by Virtu. And among other reasons which he cities, he says that, by the admission of that people, it can be shown that they ascribed all their victories to Fortune, as they had built more temples to Fortune than to any other God. And it seems that Livius joined in this opinion, for he rarely makes any Roman speak where he recounts (of) Virtu, without adding Fortune. Which thing I do not in any way agree with, nor do I believe also that it can be sustained. For if no other Republic will ever be found which has made the progress that Rome had, then I note that no Republic will ever be found which has been organized to be able to make such conquests as Rome. For it was the virtu of the armies that enabled her to acquire that Empire; and the order of proceeding and her own institutions founded by her first Legislator that enabled her to maintain the acquisitions, as will be narrated below in further discussion.

These (authors) also say that the fact of not ever engaging in two most important wars at the same time was due to the fortune and not the virtu of the Roman people; for they did riot engage in war with the Latins until they had so beaten the Samnites that the Romans had to engage in a war in defense of them: They did not combat with the Tuscans until they first subjugated the Latins, and had by frequent defeats almost completely enervated the Samnites: So that if these two powers had joined together ((while they were fresh)), without doubt it can easily be conjectured that the ruin of the Roman Republic would have ensued.

But however this thing may have been, it never did happen that they engaged in two most powerful wars at the same time; rather it appeared always that at the beginning of one the other would be extinguished, or in extinguishing one another would arise. Which is easily seen from the succession of wars engaged in by them; for, leaving aside the one they were engaged in before Rome was taken by the French (Gauls), it is seen that while they fought against the Equii and the Volscians, no other people ((while these people were powerful)) rose up against them. When these were subdued there arose the war against the Samnites, and although before that war was ended the Latin people rebelled against the Romans with their armies in subduing the insolence of the Latins. When these were subdued, the war against the Samnites sprung up again. When the Samnites were beaten through the many defeats inflicted on their forces, there arose the war against the Tuscans; which being composed, the Samnites again rose up when Pyrrhus crossed over into Italy, and as soon as he was beaten and driven back to Greece, the first war with the Carthaginians was kindled: and that war was hardly finished when all the Gauls from all sides of the Alps conspired against the Romans, but they were defeated with the greatest massacre between Popolonia and Pisa where the tower of San Vincenti stands today. After this war was finished, they did not have any war of much importance for a space of twenty years, for they did not fight with any others except the Ligurians and the remnants of the Gauls who were in Lombardy. And thus they remained until there arose the second Carthaginian war, which kept Italy occupied for sixteen years. When this war ended with the greatest glory, there arose the Macedonian war; (and) after this was finished there came that of Antiochus and Asia. After this victory, there did not remain in all the world either a Prince or a Republic that could, by itself or all together, oppose the Roman forces.

But whoever examines the succession of these wars, prior to that last victory, and the manner in which they were conducted, will see mixed with Fortune a very great Virtu and Prudence. So that if one should examine the cause of that (good) fortune, he will easily find it, for it is a most certain thing that as a Prince or a People arrives at so great a reputation, that any neighboring Princes or Peoples by themselves are afraid to assault him, and he has no fear of them, it will always happen that none of them will ever assault him except from necessity; so that it will almost be at the election of that powerful one to make war upon any of those neighbors as appears (advantageous) to him, and to quiet the others by his industry. These are quieted easily in part because they have respect for his power, and in part because they are deceived by those means which he used to put them to sleep: and other powerful ones who are distant and have no commerce with him, will look upon this as a remote thing which does not pertain to them. In which error they remain until the conflagration arrives next to them, for which, when it comes, they have no remedy to extinguish it except with their own forces, which then will not be enough as he has become most powerful.

I will leave to one side how the Samnites remained to see the Volscians and the Equii conquered by the Romans, and so as not to be too prolix I will make use of the Carthaginians who were of great power and of great reputation when the Romans were fighting with the Samnites and Tuscans; for they already held all Africa, Sardinia and Sicily, and had dominion in part of Spain. Which power of theirs, together with their being distant from the confines of the Roman people, caused them never to think of assaulting them, nor of succoring the Samnites and Tuscans; rather it made them do as is done in any power that grows, allying themselves with them (the Romans) in their favor and seeking their friendship. Nor did they see before this error was made, that the Romans having subdued all the peoples (placed) between them and the Carthaginians, begun to combat them for the Empire of Sicily and Spain. The same thing happened to the Gauls as to the Carthaginians, and also to Philip King of Macedonia and to Antiochus; and everyone of them believed ((while the Roman people were occupied with others)) that the others would overcome them, and then it would be time either by peace or war to defend themselves from (the Romans). So that I believe that the (good) Fortune which the Romans had in these parts would be had by all those Princes who would proceed as the Romans and who would have that same Virtu as they had.

It would be well here in connection with this subject to show the course held by Roman people in entering the Provinces of others, of which we have talked about at length in our treatment of Principalities (Treatise on the Prince), for there we have debated this matter widely. I will only say this briefly, that they have always endeavored to have some friend in these new provinces who should be as a ladder or door to let them climb in, both to let them enter and as a means of keeping it; as was seen, that by means of the Capuans they entered Samnium, by means of the Camertines into Tuscany, by the Mamertines into Sicily, by the Saguntines into Spain, by Massinissa into Africa, by the Aetolians into Greece, by Eumences and other Princes into Asia, and by the Massilians and the Aeduans into Gaul. And thus they never lacked similar supports, both in order to be able to facilitate their enterprises of their acquiring provinces and in holding them. Which those people who observed them saw that they had less need of Fortune, than those people who do not make good observers. And so as to enable everyone to know better how much more Virtu enabled them to acquire that Empire than did Fortune, in the following chapter we will discuss the kind of people they had to combat and how obstinate they were in defending their liberty.

CHAPTER II

WITH WHAT PEOPLE THE ROMANS HAD TO COMBAT, AND HOW OBSTINATELY THEY DEFENDED THEIR LIBERTY

Nothing caused so much hard work for the Romans as the overcoming of the surrounding people and part of the distant Provinces, as the love many people in those times had for liberty; which they so obstinately defended but they would never have been subjugated except for the excessive virtu (of the Romans). For, from many examples, it is known into what dangers they placed themselves in order to maintain or recover (their liberty), and what vengeance they practiced against those who had deprived them of it. It is also to be learned from the lessons of history what injury the people and the City received from such servitude. And, while in these times there is only one Province of which it can be said has in it free Cities, in ancient times in all the Provinces there existed many free people. It will be seen that in those times of which we speak at present, there were in Italy, from the Alps ((which now divide Tuscany from Lombardy)) up to the furthest (part) in Italy, many free peoples, such as were the Tuscans, the Romans, the Samnites, and many other people, who inhabited the remaining part of Italy. Nor is there ever any discussion whether there was any King outside those who reigned in Rome, and Porsenna, King of Tuscany, whose line was extinguished in a manner of which history does not speak. But it is indeed seen that in those times when the Romans went to besiege Veii, Tuscany was free, and so much did it enjoy its liberty and so hated the title of Prince, that when the Veientians created a King for the defense of Veii, and requested aid of the Tuscans against the Romans, they decided, after much consultation, not to give aid to the Veientians as long as they lived under the King, judging it not to be good to defend the country of those who already had subjected themselves to others. And it is easy to understand whence this affection arises in a people to live free, for it is seen from experience that Cities never increased either in dominion or wealth except while they had been free. And truly it is a marvelous thing to consider to what greatness Athens had arrived in the space of a hundred years after she had freed herself from the tyranny of Pisistratus. But above all, it is a more marvelous thing to consider to what greatness Rome arrived after it liberated itself from its Kings. The cause is easy to understand, for not the individual good, but the common good is what makes Cities great. And, without doubt, this common good is not observed except in Republics, because everything is done which makes for their benefit, and if it should turn to harm this or that individual, those for whom the said good is done are so many, that they can carry on against the interests of those few who should be harmed. The contrary happens when there is a Prince, where much of the time what he does for himself harms the City, and what is done for the City harms him. So that soon there arises a Tyranny over a free society, the least evil which results to that City is for it not to progress further, nor to grow further in power or wealth, but most of the times it rather happens that it turns backward. And if chance should cause that a Tyrant of virtu should spring up, who by his courage and virtu at arms expands his dominion, no usefulness would result to the Republic but only to be himself; for he cannot honor any of those citizens who are valiant and good over whom he tyrannizes, as he does not want to have to suspect them. Nor also can he subject those Cities which he acquires or make them tributary to the City of which he is the Tyrant, because he does not help himself in making them powerful, but it will help him greatly in keeping the State disunited, so that each town and each province should recognize him. So that he alone, and not his country, profits from his acquisitions. And whoever should want to confirm this opinion with infinite other arguments, let him read Xenophon’s treatise which he wrote on Tyranny.

It is no wonder, therefore, that the ancient people should have persecuted the Tyrants with so much hatred and should have loved living in freedom, and the name of Liberty so much esteemed by them; as happened when Hieronymus, nephew of Hiero the Syracusan, was killed in Syracuse; that when the news of his death came to his army, which was not very far from Syracuse, they at first begun to raise a tumult and take up arms against his killers; but when they heard that there was shouting of liberty in Syracuse, attracted by the name everyone became quiet, their ire against the Tyrannicides was quelled, and they thought of how a free government could be established in that City. It is also no wonder that the people took extraordinary vengeance against those who deprived them of liberty. Of which there have been many examples, but I intend to refer only to one which happened in Corcyra, a City of Greece, in the times of the Peloponnesian war, where, the Province being divided into two factions, of which the Athenians followed one, the Spartans the other, there arose then among the many other Cities a division among themselves, some following (the friendship of) Sparta, the the others (of) Athens: and it happened in the said City (Corcyra) that the nobles had prevailed and had taken away the liberty from the people; the populari (popular party) with the aid of the Athenians recovered its power, and, having laid hands on the nobility, put them into a prison capable of holding all of them; from which they took out eight or ten at one time under a pretext of sending them into exile in different places, but put them to death with (examples of) extreme cruelties. When the remainder became aware of this, they resolved if possible to escape that ignominious death, and arming themselves as (best) as they could, they fought with those who attempted to enter and defended the entrance to the prison; but when the people came together at this noise, they pulled down the upper part of that place, and suffocated them in the ruins. Many other similar notable and horrible cases occurred in the said Province, so that it is seen to be true that liberty is avenged with great energy when it is taken away than when it is only threatened (to be taken).

In thinking, therefore, of whence it should happen that in those ancient times the people were greater lovers of Liberty than in these times, I believe it results from the same reason which makes men presently less strong, which I believe is the difference between our education and that of the ancients, founded on the difference between our Religion and the ancients. For, as our Religion shows the truth and the true way (of life), it causes us to esteem less the honors of the world: while the Gentiles (Pagans) esteeming them greatly, and having placed the highest good in them, were more ferocious in their actions. Which can be observed from many of their institutions, beginning with the magnificence of their sacrifices (as compared) to the humility of ours, in which there is some pomp more delicate than magnificent, but no ferocious or energetic actions. Theirs did not lack pomp and magnificence of ceremony, but there was added the action of sacrifice full of blood and ferocity, the killing of many animals, which sight being terrible it rendered the men like unto it. In addition to this, the ancient Religion did not beatify men except those full of worldly glory, such as were the Captains of armies and Princes of Republics. Our Religion has glorified more humble and contemplative men rather than men of action. It also places the highest good in humility, lowliness, and contempt of human things: the other places it in the greatness of soul, the strength of body, and all the other things which make men very brave. And, if our Religion requires that there be strength (of soul) in you, it desires that you be more adept at suffering than in achieving great deeds.

This mode of living appears to me, therefore, to have rendered the world weak and a prey to wicked men, who can manage it securely, seeing that the great body of men, in order to go to Paradise, think more of enduring their beatings than in avenging them. And although it appears that the World has become effeminate and Heaven disarmed, yet this arises without doubt more from the baseness of men who have interpreted our Religion in accordance with Indolence and not in accordance with Virtu. For if they were to consider that it (our Religion) permits the exaltation and defense of the country, they would see that it desires that we love and honor her (our country), and that we prepare ourselves so that we can be able to defend her. This education and false interpretations, therefore, are the cause that in the world as many Republics are not seen in them that the people have as much love for liberty now as at that time. I believe, however, the reason for this rather to be, that the Roman Empire with its arms and greatness destroyed all the Republics and all civil institutions. And although that Empire was later dissolved, yet these Cities could not reunite themselves, nor reorganize their civil institutions, except in a very few places in that Empire.

But however it was, the Romans found a conspiracy in every smallest part of the world of Republics very well armed and most obstinate in the defense of their liberty. Which shows that the Roman people could never have overcome them without that rare and extreme virtu. And to give an example of one instance, the example of the Samnites suffices for me, which seems to be a marvelous one. And T. Livius admits that these (people) were so powerful and their arms so valiant, that, up to the time of the Consul Papirus Cursor, son of the first Papirus, for a period of forty six years, they were able to resist the Romans, despite the many defeats, destruction of Towns, and massacres suffered by their country. Especially as it is now seen that that country where there were so many Cities and so many men, is now almost uninhabited: and yet it was so well established and so powerful, that it was unconquerable except by Roman virtu. And it is an easy thing whence that order and disorder proceeded, for it all comes from their then living in freedom and now living in servitude. For all the towns and provinces which are free in every way ((as was said above)) make the greatest advances. For here greater populations are seen because marriages are more free and more desired by men, because everyone willingly procreates those children that he believes he is able to raise without being apprehensive that their patrimony will be taken away, and to know that they are not only born free and not slaves, but are also able through their own virtu to become Princes. They will see wealth multiplied more rapidly, both that which comes from the culture (of the soil) and that which comes from the arts, for everyone willingly multiplies those things and seek to acquire those goods whose acquisition he believes he can enjoy. Whence it results that men competing for both private and public betterment, both come to increase in a wondrous manner. The contrary of all these things happens in those countries which live in servitude, and the more the good customs are lacking, the more rigorous is the servitude. And the hardest of all servitudes is that of being subject to a Republic: the one, because it is more enduring and the possibility of escaping from it is missing: the other, because the final aim of a Republic is to enervate and weaken ((in order to increase its own power)) all the other states. Which a Prince who subjugates you does not do unless that Prince is some barbarous Prince, a destroyer of countries and dissipater of all human civilization, such as are oriental Princes: But if he has ordinary human feelings in him, most of the times he will love equally the Cities subject to him, and will leave them (enjoy) all their arts, and almost all their ancient institutions. So that if they cannot grow as if they were free, they will not be ruined even in servitude; servitude being understood as that in which Cities serve a foreigner, for of that to one of their own Citizens, we have spoken above.

Whoever considers, therefore, all that which has been said, will not marvel at the power which the Samnites had while they were free, and at the weakness to which they came afterwards under servitude: and T. Livius gives testimony of this in many places, and mainly in the war with Hannibal, where he shows that when the Samnites were pressed by a legion of (Romans) who were at Nola, they sent Orators (Ambassadors) to Hannibal to beg him to succor them. Who in their speech said to him. that for a hundred years they had combatted the Romans with their own soldiers and their own Captains, and many times had sustained (battle against) two consular armies and two Consuls; but now they had arrived at such baseness that they were hardly able to defend themselves against the small Roman legion which was at Nola.

CHAPTER III

ROME BECAME A GREAT CITY BY RUINING THE SURROUNDING CITIES AND ADMITTING FOREIGNERS EASILY TO HER HONORS

Crescit interea Roma Albae ruinis. (Rome grew on the ruins of Alba) Those who plan for a City to achieve great Empire ought with all industry to endeavor to make it full of inhabitants, for without this abundance of men, one can never succeed in making a City great. This is done in two ways, by love and by force. Through love, by keeping the ways open and secure for foreigners who should plan to come to live there. Through force, by destroying the neighboring Cities and sending their inhabitants to live in your City. Which was so greatly observed by Rome, that in the time of the sixth King of Rome, that there lived there eighty thousand men capable of bearing arms. For the Romans wanted to act according to the custom of the good cultivator, who, in order to make a plant grow and able to produce and mature its fruits, cuts off the first branches that it puts out, so that by retaining that virtu in the roots of that plant, they can in time grow more green and more fruitful. And that this method of aggrandizing and creating an Empire was necessary and good, is shown by the example of Sparta and Athens; which two Republics although well armed and regulated by excellent laws, none the less did not attain to the greatness of the Roman Empire, and Rome appeared more tumultuous and not as well regulated as those others. No other reason can be adduced for this than that mentioned above; for Rome, from having enlarged the population of the City in both those two ways, was enabled to put two hundred thousand men under arms, while Sparta and Athens were never able (to raise) twenty thousand each. Which resulted not from the site of Rome being more favorable than those of the other, but solely from the different mode of procedure. For Lycurgus, founder of the Spartan Republic, thinking that nothing could more easily dissolve its laws than the admixture of new inhabitants, did everything (he could) so that foreigners would not come to them; and in addition to not receiving them into their citizenship by marriage, and other commerce that makes men come together, ordered that in that Republic of his only leather money should be spent, in order to take away from everyone the desire to come there in order to bring in merchandise or some arts: of a kind so that the City could never increase its inhabitants. And because all our actions imitate nature, it is neither possible nor natural that a slender trunk should sustain a big branch. A small Republic, therefore, cannot conquer Cities or Republics which are larger and more valiant than it; and if it does conquer them, it happens then to them as to that tree that has its branches bigger than its trunk, which sustains it only with great effort with every little breeze that blows; such as is seen happened in Sparta, which had conquered all the Cities of Greece, but as soon as Thebes rebelled, all the others rebelled, and the trunk remained alone without branches. Which could not have happened to Rome, as it had its trunk so big that it could sustain any branch. This mode of proceeding therefore, together with others which will be mentioned below, made Rome great and most powerful. Which T. Livius points out in two (few) words, when he said: Rome grew while Alba was ruined.

CHAPTER IV

REPUBLICS HAVE HAD THREE WAYS OF EXPANDING

Whoever has studied the ancient histories finds that Republics had three ways of expanding. One has been that which the ancient Tuscans observed, of being one league of many united Republics, where there is not any one before the other either in authority or in rank. And in acquiring other Cities they made them associates of themselves, as in a similar way the Swiss do in these times, and as the Achaens and Aetolians did in ancient times in Greece. And as the Romans had many wars with the Tuscans ((in order to illustrate better the first method)) I will extend myself in giving a particular account of them. Before the Roman Empire, the Tuscans were the most powerful people in Italy, both on land and on the sea, and although there is no particular history of their affairs, yet there is some small record and some signs of their greatness; and it is known that they sent a colony to the sea, above (north of) them, which they called Adria, which was so noble that it gave a name to that sea which the Latins also called the Adriatic. It is also known that their arms (authority) was obeyed from the Tiber up to the foot of the Alps which now encircle the greater part of Italy; notwithstanding that two hundred years before the Romans became so powerful that the said Tuscans lost the Dominion of that country which today is called Lombardy: which province had been seized by the Gauls, who, moved either by necessity or the sweetness of the fruits, and especially of the wine, came into Italy under their leader Bellovesus, and having defeated and driven out the inhabitants of the province, they settled there where they built many Cities, and they called that Province Gallia from the name they themselves had, which they kept until they were subjugated by the Romans. The Tuscans, then, lived in that equality and proceeded in their expansion through the first method which was mentioned above: and there were twelve Cities, among which were Clusium, Veii, Fiesole, Arezzo, Volterra, and others like them, which through a league governed their Empire; nor could they go outside of Italy with their acquisitions, a great part of which still remained intact (independent), for the reasons which will be mentioned below.

The other method is to make them associates; not so closely, however, that the position of commanding the seat of the Empire and the right of sovereignty should not remain with you; which method was observed by the Romans. The third method is to make subjects of them immediately and not associates, as did the Spartans and Athenians. Of which three methods this last is entirely useless as is seen was the case in the above mentioned two Republics, which were ruined for no other reason than from having acquired that dominion which they were unable to maintain. For to undertake the governing of Cities by violence, especially those which were accustomed to living in freedom, is a difficult and wearisome thing. And unless you are armed, and powerfully armed, you cannot either command or rule them. And to want to be thus established, it is necessary to make associates of them who would help in increasing the population of your City. And as these two Cities (Sparta and Athens) did not do either the one or the other, their method of procedure was useless. And because Rome, which is an example of the second method, did both things, she therefore rose to such exceeding power. And as she had been the only one to act thusly, so too she had been the only one to become so powerful; for she had created many associates throughout all Italy, who lived with them in many respects equally under the law, but on the other hand ((as I said above)) she always reserved for herself the seat of Empire and the right of command, so that these associates of hers came ((without their being aware of it)) through their own efforts and blood to subjugate themselves. For as soon as they begun to go beyond Italy with their armies to reduce other Kingdoms to Provinces, and to make for themselves subjects of those who, having been accustomed to live under Kings, did not care to be subjects, and from having Roman governors, and having been conquered by armies under Roman command, they recognized no one to be superior other than the Romans. So that those associates of Rome (who were) in Italy found themselves suddenly surrounded by Roman subjects and pressed by a very large City like Rome: and when they understood the deceit under which they had lived they were not in time to remedy it, for Rome had achieved so much authority with the (acquisition) of the external provinces, and so much power was to be found within themselves, the City having become greatly populated and well armed. And although these associates of hers conspired against her in order to avenge the injuries inflicted on them, they were defeated (in war) in a short time, worsening their condition; for from being associates they too became their subjects. This method of proceeding ((as has been said)) had been observed only by the Romans; and a Republic which wants to aggrandize itself cannot have any other method, for experience has not shown anything else more certain and more true.

The fore-mentioned method of creating Leagues, such as were the Tuscans, Achaians, and the Aetolians, and as are the Swiss today, is, after that of the Romans, the better method; for with it, it is not possible to expand greatly, but two benefits ensue: the one, that they are not easily drawn into war: the other, that that which you take you can easily hold. The reason they are not able to expand is that Republics are not united and have their seats in several places, which makes it difficult for them to consult and decide. It also makes them undesirous of dominating, for, as many Communities participating in that dominion, they do not value much such acquisitions as does a single Republic which hopes to enjoy it entirely by itself. In addition to this they are governed by a council, and it follows that they are tardier in every decision than those which come from those who live in the same circle. It is also seen from experience that such methods of procedure have a fixed limit, of which there is no example which indicates it has ever been transgressed; and this (limit) is the addition of twelve or fourteen communities, beyond which they cannot go, and as their defending themselves appears to them to be difficult they do not seek greater dominion, as much because necessity does not constrain them to have more power, as well as for not recognizing any usefulness in further acquisitions for the reason mentioned above: for they have to do one of two things: either to continue making additional associates for themselves, as this multitude would cause confusion, or they would have to make them subjects to themselves. And as they see the difficulty of this, and little usefulness in maintaining it, they see no value in it. When, therefore, they are come to such a great number that it appears to them they can live securely, they turn to two things: the one, to take up the protection of others who seek it, and by this means obtain money from each one, and which they can readily distribute among themselves: the other, is to become soldiers for others and accept a stipend from this Prince or that, who hires them for undertaking his enterprises, as is seen the Swiss do these days, and as one reads was done by the above mentioned ones. Of which Titus Livius gives testimony, where he tells of Philip, King of Macedon, coming to negotiate with Titus Quintus Flaminius, and discussing the accord in the presence of a Praetor of the Aetolians, the said Praetor in coming to talk with him, was by him reprimanded for avarice and infidelity, saying that the Aetolians were not ashamed to enlist in the military service for one, and then also send their men into the service of the enemy, so that many times the Aetolian ensigns were seen among the two opposing armies. We see, therefore, that this method of proceeding through leagues has always been the same, and has had the same results. It is also seen that the method of making (them) subjects has always been ineffective and to have produced little profit: and when they had carried this method too far, they were soon ruined. And if this method of making subjects is useless in armed Republics, it is even more useless in those which are unarmed, as the Republics of Italy have been in our times.

It is to be recognized, therefore, that the Romans had the certain method, which is so much more admirable as there was no example before Rome, and there has been no one who has imitated them since Rome. And as to leagues, only the Swiss and the league of Swabia are found to be the only ones which imitated them. And finally of this matter it will be said, so many institutions observed by Rome, pertinent to the events both internal as well as external, have not only not been imitated in our times, but have not been taken into account, being judged by some not to be true, by some impossible, by some not applicable and useless. So that by remaining in this ignorance we (Italy) are prey to anyone who has wanted to rule this province. But if the imitation of the Romans appeared difficult, that the ancient Tuscans ought not to appear so, especially by the present Tuscans. For if they could not acquire that power in Italy, which that method of procedure would have given them, they lived in security for a long time, with very much glory of Dominion and arms, and especially praise for their customs and Religion. Which power and glory was first diminished by the Gauls, and afterwards extinguished by the Romans: and was so completely extinguished, that, although two thousand years ago the power of the Tuscans was great, at present there is almost no memory. Which thing has made me think whence this oblivion of things arises, as will be discussed in the following chapter.

CHAPTER V

THAT THE CHANGES OF SECTS AND LANGUAGES, TOGETHER WITH THE ACCIDENT OF DELUGES AND PESTILENCE, EXTINGUISHED THE MEMORY OF THINGS

To those Philosophers who hold that the World has existed from eternity, I believe it is possible to reply, that, if such great antiquity was true, it would be reasonable that there should be some record of more than five thousand years, except it is seen that the records of those times have been destroyed from diverse causes: of which some were acts of men, some of Heaven. Those that are acts of men are the changes of the sects (religion) and of languages. Because, when a new sect springs up, that is, a new Religion, the first effort is ((in order to give itself reputation)) to extinguish the old; and if it happens that the establishers of the new sect are of different languages, they extinguish it (the old) easily. Which thing is known by observing the method which the Christian Religion employed against the Gentile (heathen) sect, which has cancelled all its institutions, all of its ceremonies, and extinguished every record of that ancient Theology. It is true that they did not succeed in entirely extinguishing the records of the things done by their excellent men, which has resulted from their having maintained the Latin language, which was done by force, having to write this new law in it. For if they could have written it in a new language, considering the other persecutions they suffered, none of the past events would have been recorded. And whoever reads the methods used by Saint Gregory and the other Heads of the Christian Religion, will see with what obstinacy they persecuted all the ancient memorials, burning the works of the Poets and Historians, ruining statues, and despoiling every thing else that gave any sign of antiquity. So that, if to this persecution they had added a new language, it would have been seen that in a very brief time everything (previous) would have been forgotten.

It is to be believed, therefore, that that which the Christian Religion wanted to do against the Gentile sect, the Gentiles did against that which preceded them. And as these sects changed two or three times in five or six thousand years, all memory of things done before that time are lost. And if, however, some signs of it were left, it would be considered a fabulous thing, and not to be given credence: as happened with the history of Diodorus Siculus, who although he gives account of forty or fifty thousand years, none the less it is reputed ((as I believe it is )) a mendacious thing.

As to the causes that come from Heaven, they are those that extinguish the human race and reduce the inhabitants of parts of the world to a very few. And this results either from pestilence, or famine, or from an inundation of water; and the last is the most important, as much because it is the most universal, as because those who are saved are men of the mountains and rugged, who, not having any knowledge of antiquity, cannot leave it to posterity. And if among them there should be saved one who should have this knowledge, he would hide it or pervert it in his own way in order to create a reputation and name for himself; so that there remains to his successors only what he wanted to write, and nothing else. And that these inundations, pestilences, and famines, occur, I do not believe there is any doubt, not only because all histories are full of them, but also because the effects of these oblivious things are seen, and because it appears reasonable they should be; For in nature as in simple bodies, when there is an accumulation of much superfluous matter, it very often moves by itself and makes a purgation which is healthy to that body; and so it happens in this compound body of the human race, that when all the provinces are full of inhabitants so that they cannot live or go elsewhere in order to occupy and fill up all places, and when human astuteness and malignity has gone as far as they can go, it happens of necessity that the world purges itself in one of the three ways, so that men having been chastised and reduced in number, live more commodiously and become better. Tuscany, then, was once powerful, as was said above, full of Religion and Virtu had its own customs and its own national language; all of which was extinguished by the Roman power. So that ((as was said)) nothing remained of it but the memory of its name.

CHAPTER VI

HOW THE ROMANS PROCEEDED IN MAKING WAR

Having discussed how the Romans proceeded in their expansion, we will now discuss how they proceeded in making war, and it will be seen with how much prudence they deviated in all the actions from the universal methods of others, in order to make their road to supreme greatness easy. The intention of whoever makes war, whether by election or from ambition, is to acquire and maintain the acquisition, and to proceed in such a way so as to enrich themselves and not to impoverish the (conquered) country and his own country. It is necessary, therefore, both in the acquisition and in the maintenance, to take care not to spend (too much), rather to do every thing for the usefulness of his people. Whoever wants to do all these things must hold to the Roman conduct and method, which was first to make the war short and sharp, as the French say, for corning into the field with large armies, they dispatched all the wars they had with the Latins, Samnites, and Tuscans, in the briefest time. And if all those things they did from the beginning of Rome up to the siege of the Veienti were to be noted, it will be seen that they were all dispatched some in six, some in ten, some in twenty days; for this was their usage. As soon as war broke out, they went out with the armies to meet the enemy and quickly came to the engagement. Which, when they won it, the enemy ((so that their countryside should not be completely laid waste)) came to terms, and the Romans condemned them (to turn over) lands, which lands they converted into private possessions or consigned them to a colony, which, placed on the confines of those people, served as a guard to the Roman frontiers, with usefulness as well to those colonists who received those fields as to the people of Rome, who, without expense, maintained that guard. Nor could this method be more secure, more effectual, or more useful. For, as long as the enemy were not in the fields, that guard was enough; but as soon as they went out in force to oppress that Colony, the Romans also came out in force and came to an engagement with them, and having waged and won the battle, (and), having imposed heavier conditions on them, they returned home. Thus, little by little, they came to acquire reputation over them and strength within themselves (their state). And they kept to this method up to the time of war when they changed the method of proceeding; which was after the siege of the Veienti, where, in order to be able to wage a long war, they ordered them to pay their soldiers, (and) which at first ((since it was not necessary as the wars were short)) they did not pay. And although the Romans gave them the money, and by virtue of which they were able to wage longer wars, and to keep them at a greater distance if necessity should keep them in the field longer, none the less they never varied from the original system of finishing them quickly, according to the place and time: nor did they ever vary from sending out of colonies. For, in the first system, the ambition of the Consuls contributed in making the wars short ((in addition to the natural custom)), who, being elected for one year, and six months of that year in quarters, wanted to finish the war in order to (have a) triumph. In the sending of colonies there was usefulness to them and resultant great convenience. They (the Romans) made a good distribution of booty, with which they were not as liberal as they were at first, as much because it did not appear to them to be so necessary ((the soldiers receiving a stipend)), as also because the booty being larger, they planned to enrich themselves of it so that the public should not be constrained to undertake the enterprises with the tributes from the City. Which system in a short time made their Treasury very rich. These two methods, therefore, of distributing the booty and of sending of colonies, caused Rome to be enriched by the wars while other unwise Princes and Republics were impoverished (by theirs). And these were brought to such limits that a Consul did not think he could obtain a triumph unless, with his triumph, he could bring much gold and silver, and every other kind of booty into the Treasury.

Thus the Romans with the above described conditions and by finishing wars quickly, being satisfied by the length (of the wars) to massacre the enemy, and by defeating (their armies) and overrunning (their lands), and (making) accords to their advantage, always became richer and more powerful.

CHAPTER VII

HOW MUCH LAND THE ROMANS GAVE EACH COLONIST

I believe it is very difficult to find out the truth as to how much land the Romans distributed per colonist. I believe they gave them more or less, according to the places where they sent the colonies. And I would judge that in any instance and in all places the distribution was small. First, in order to send a greater number of men assigned to guard that country: then, as they lived poorly at home it would not have been reasonable that they should desire that their men should live too abundantly outside.

And T. Livius says that, after taking Veii, they sent a colony there and distributed to each three and seven-twelfths (3 7/12) Jugeri of land, which in our measures are ... (2 2/3 acres). For, in addition to the above written things, they judged it was not the amount of land, but its good cultivation, that should suffice. It is necessary also that all the colonies have public fields where everyone could pasture their beasts, and forests where they could get wood to burn, without which things a colony cannot organize itself.

CHAPTER VIII

THE REASON WHY PEOPLE DEPART FROM THEIR NATIONAL PLACES AND INUNDATE THE COUNTRY OF OTHERS

Since there has been discussed above the method of proceeding in war observed by the Romans and how the Tuscans were assaulted by the Gauls, it does not appear to me alien to the subject to discuss how two kinds of war are made. One is waged because of the ambitions of Princes or of a Republic that seek to extend their Empire, such as were the wars that Alexander the Great waged, and those that the Romans waged, and those which one power wages against another. While these wars are dangerous, they never drive all the inhabitants out of a province, but the obedience of the people is enough for the conqueror, and most of the times he leaves them to live with their laws, and always with their homes and possessions: The other kind of war is when an entire people with all their families are taken away from a place, necessitated either by famine or by war, and goes to seek a new seat in a new province, not in order to seek dominion over them as those others above, but to possess it absolutely; and to drive out or kill its old inhabitants. This kind of war is most cruel and most frightful. And of these wars Sallust discusses at the end of (the history) of Jugurtha, when he says that, after Jugurtha was defeated, movements of the Gauls coming into Italy were heard: where he (also) says that the Roman People had combatted with all the other peoples only as to who should dominate, but that with the Gauls they combatted for the (very) existence of each. For to a Prince or a Republic that assaults a province, it is enough to extinguish only those who command, but to these entire populations, it behooves them to extinguish everyone because they want to live on that which the others lived.

The Romans had three of these most perilous wars. The first was when Rome was taken, which was occupied by those Gauls who had detached Lombardy ((as was mentioned above)) from the Tuscans and made it their seat: for which Titus Livius assigns two causes: The first, as was said above, that they were attracted by the sweetness of the fruits and wines of Italy, which were lacking in France: The second, that in that Kingdom of Gaul, men multiplied so fast that they were no longer able to feed them, (and) the Princes decided it should be necessary that a part of them should go some place to seek a new country. And having made such a decision, they elected as captains over those who should depart Bellovesus and Sicovesus, two Kings of the Gauls, of whom Bellovesus went into Italy and Sicovesus passed into Spain. From the passage of this Bellovesus there resulted the occupation of Lombardy, and hence the first war that the Gauls made against Rome. After this came that which they made after the first Carthaginian war, where they (the Romans) killed over two hundred thousand Gauls between Piombino and Pisa. The third was when the Teutons and Cimbrians came into Italy, who having overcome several Roman armies, were defeated by Marius. The Romans, therefore, won these three most perilous wars. And no little virtu was necessary to win them; for it is seen that when that Roman virtu was lost (and), those arms lost their ancient valor, that Empire was destroyed by similar people, such as were the Goths, Vandals, and the like, who occupied all the western Empire.

These people go out from their countries ((as was said above)) driven by necessity; and the necessity arises from famine, or war, and oppression, which in their own country is experienced by them, so that they are constrained to seek new land. And these such are sometimes of a great number, and then enter into the countries of others with violence, killing the inhabitants, taking possession of their goods, create a new Kingdom, and change the name of the province, as Moses did, and those people who occupied the Roman Empire. For these new names that exist in Italy and in the provinces, do not come from anything else than of having been thus named by the new occupiers, such as is Lombardy which was called Cisalpine Gaul, France which was called Transalpine Gaul, and now is called after the Franks, as those people were called who had occupied it; Slavonia was called Illyria, Hungary Pannonia, England Brittania, and many other provinces which have changed names, to recount which would be tedious. Moses also called that part of Syria occupied by him Judea. And as I have said above that sometimes such people are driven from their own seats because of war, whence they are constrained to seek new lands, I want to cite the example of the Maurusians, a most ancient people of Syria, who, hearing of the coming of the Hebrew people and judging not to be able to resist them, thought it better to save themselves and leave their own country, than to attempt to save it and lose themselves; and taking up their families, they went to Africa where they established themselves after driving out those inhabitants whom they found in that place. And thus those who were unable to defend their own country, were able to occupy that of others. And Procopius, who wrote of the war that Belisarius made against the Vandals, occupiers of Africa, refers to having read letters written on certain columns in the places that were inhabited by these Maurusians, which said: We Maurusians here fled from before Jesus the robber, son of Narva. Whence appeared the reason of their departure from Syria. These people, therefore, who have been driven out by an extreme necessity are most formidable, and if they are not confronted by good arms, will never be checked. But when those who are constrained to abandon their own country are not many, they are not as dangerous as those people who were discussed, for they are unable to use as much violence but must employ cunning in occupying some place, and having occupied it, to maintain themselves by way of friends and confederates: as is seen was done by Aeneas, and Dido, and the Massalians, and the like, all of whom were able to maintain themselves, with the consent of their neighbors.

The great numbers of people that went out, and are going out, are almost all from the country of Scythia, a cold and poor place, where, because there were a great number of men and the country of a kind which was unable to feed them, they are forced to go out, having many things which drive them out and none to retain them. And if in the past five hundred years it has not occurred that some of these people have not inundated any country, it arises from several reasons. The first, the great evacuation which that country made during the decline of the Empire, when more than thirty tribes left (Scythia). The second is, that Germany and Hungary, whence also such people went out, have now improved their country so that they are able to live comfortably, that they are not necessitated to change places. On the other hand, their men being very warlike are a bastion in holding back the Scythians, who have the same boundary with them, from presuming to overcome or pass through them. And often times there occurred very great movements of Tartars, who were later checked by the Hungarians and the Poles, and they often boast that if it had not been for their arms, Italy and the Church would have many times felt the weight of the Tartar armies. And this I want to be enough concerning the people mentioned.

CHAPTER IX

WHAT CAUSES COMMONLY MAKE WARS ARISE BETWEEN THE POWERFUL

The cause which made war arise between the Romans and the Samnites who were in league for a long time, is a common cause which arises among all powerful Principalities. Which cause either arises by chance or is made to arise by those who desire to set a war in motion. That which arose between the Romans and the Samnites was by chance, for it was not the intention of the Samnites, in setting the war in motion against the Sidicians, and afterwards against the Campanians, to set it in motion against the Romans. But the Campanians being hard pressed and having recourse to Rome, beyond the thoughts of the Romans and the Samnites, the Campanians forced the Romans to take them to themselves as subjects of theirs, so that it appeared to them (the Romans) they could not honorably evade (the obligation) of defending them, and (hence) take up that war. For it indeed appeared reasonable to the Romans not to defend the Campanians as friends against the Samnites, who were their friends, but it seemed to them disgraceful not to defend them as subjects, even though voluntary ones, judging that if they did not undertake such defense, it would alienate all those who should plan to come under their dominion. And as the aim of Rome was Empire and Glory, and not Quiet, she could not refuse this enterprise.

This same cause gave beginning to the first war against the Carthaginians because of the defense of the Messenians in Sicily which the Romans undertook, which was also by chance. But the second war which afterwards arose between them was not by chance, for Hannibal the Carthaginian Captain assaulted the Saguntines friends of the Romans in Spain, not to injure them, but to move the Romans to arms, and to have occasion to combat them and pass into Italy. This method of kindling new wars has always been customary among Powers, and who have some respect for the faith (treaties) with others. For if I want to make war against a Prince, and have between us a signed treaty observed for a long time, I would assault a friend of his very own with some other pretext and justification, especially knowing that in assaulting his friend either he would resent it and I would obtain my intention of making war against him, or if he did not resent it, his weakness and unfaithfulness in not defending his ally will take away reputation from him, and to execute my designs more easily.

It ought to be noted, therefore, because of the dedication of the Campanians in setting the war in motion in the way mentioned above, that the best remedy which a City has, that is unable to defend itself, but wants to defend itself in whatever manner against anyone who should assault them: which is to give itself freely to whomever they design to defend them, as the Campanians did to the Romans, and the Florentines to King Robert of Naples, who, unwilling to defend them as friends, defended them afterwards as subjects against the forces of Castruccio of Lucca who was pressing them hard.

CHAPTER X

MONEY IS NOT THE SINEW OF WAR ALTHOUGH THIS IS COMMON OPINION

Because anyone can commence a war at his pleasure, but cannot so finish it, a Prince ought before he undertakes an enterprise to measure his forces, and govern himself in accordance with them. But he ought to have so much prudence as not to deceive himself of the two forces: and he will deceive himself every time when he measures it either by his money, or by the location (of his country), or by good will of his people, while on the other hand he lacks his own arms. For although the above things will increase his strength, (but) they will not give it to him, and of themselves are nothing, and will not be of benefit without trustworthy arms. For without them, great amounts of money will not suffice you, the strength of the country will not benefit you, and the faith and good will of men will not endure, as these cannot remain faithful to you if you are not able to defend them. Every mountain, every lake, every inaccessible place becomes a plain where strong defenders are lacking. Money alone, also, will not defend you, but causes you to be plundered more readily. Nor can that common opinion be more false which says that money is the sinew of war. Which sentence was said by Quintus Curtius in the war which existed between Antipater the Macedonian and the King of Sparta, where he narrates that because of a want of money the King of Sparta was obliged to come to battle and was routed, that if he had deferred the fight a few days the news of the death of Alexander in Greece would have arrived, whence he would have remained victor without fighting. But lacking money, and being apprehensive that, for the want of which, his army would abandon him, was constrained to try the fortune of battle. So that for this reason Quintus Curtius affirms money to be the sinew of war. Which opinion is alleged every day, and acted on by not so prudent Princes to whom it is enough to follow it: For relying on it, they believe it is enough to have much treasure to defend themselves, and do not think that if treasure should be enough to win, that Darius would have vanquished Alexander, the Greeks would have vanquished the Romans, and in our times Duke Charles would have vanquished the Swiss, and a few days ago the Pope and the Florentine together would not have had difficulty in defeating Francesco Maria, nephew of Julius II, in the war at Urbino. But all the above named were vanquished by those who esteemed not money, but good soldiers, as the sinew of war.

Among other things that Croesus, King of Lydia, showed to Solon the Athenian was a countless treasure: and asking what he thought his power to be, Solon answered that he did not judge him more powerful because of that, because war was made with iron and not gold, and that someone might come who had more iron than he and would take it away from him. In addition to this, when, after the death of Alexander the Great, a great multitude of Gauls passed into Greece and then into Asia, and the Gauls sent Ambassadors to the King of Macedonia to treat of certain accords, that King to show his power and to dismay them showed them much gold and silver: whence those Gauls who had already as good as signed the peace broke it, so much did the desire grow in them to take away that gold. And thus was that King despoiled by the very thing that he had accumulated for defense. The Venetians a few years ago also, having their Treasury full of treasure, lost the State without being able to be defended by it.

I say, therefore, that gold ((as common opinion shouts)) is not the sinew of war, but good soldiers; because gold is not sufficient to find good soldiers, but good soldiers are indeed sufficient to find gold. To the Romans ((if they had wanted to make war more with money instead of with iron)) it would not have been enough to have all the treasure of the world, considering the great enterprises that they made and the difficulties that they had to encounter. But making their wars with iron, they never suffered from want of gold, because it was brought, even up to their camps, by those who feared them. And if that King of Sparta, because of a dearth of money, had to try the fortune of battle, that which happened to him on account of money many times would have happened for other causes; for it has been seen that any army lacking provisions, and being obliged either to die of hunger or to engage in battle, will always take the side of fighting as being more honorable, and where fortune can in some way favor you. It has also happened many times that a Captain, seeing succor come to the army of his enemy, has preferred to come to an engagement with him at once and try the fortune of battle, rather than wait until he is reinforced and then have to fight him in any case under a thousand disadvantages. It has also been seen, how it happened to Hasdrubal when he was assaulted in the Marca (Metaurus River) by Claudius Nero, together with the other Roman Consul, that a Captain obliged either to fight or flee, always elects to fight, it seeming to him in this way, even if most doubtful, to be able to win, but in the other to lose in any case.

There are many necessities, therefore, which make a Captain choose the side of coming to battle against his will, among which sometimes it can be the dearth of money, but not for this ought money to be judged the sinew of war more than other things which induce men to a similar necessity. Repeating again, therefore, the sinew of war is not gold, but good soldiers. Money is indeed necessary in a secondary place, but it is a necessity that good soldiers by themselves will overcome; for it is impossible that good soldiers will lack money, as it is for money by itself to find good soldiers. Every history in a thousand places shows that which we say to be true, notwithstanding that Pericles had counselled the Athenians to make war with all the Peloponnesus, showing that they could win that war with perseverance and by the power of money. And although in that war the Athenians at times had prospered, in the end they lost, and the good counsels and good soldiers of Sparta were of more value than the perseverance and the money of Athens. But the testimony of Titus Livius is more direct than any other, where, discussing if Alexander the Great should have come into Italy, if he would have vanquished the Romans, he showed three things to be necessary for war, many and good soldiers, prudent Captains, and good fortune: where examining whether the Romans or Alexander should have prevailed in these things, afterwards makes his conclusion without ever mentioning money. The Campanians had, when they were requested by the Sidicians to take up arms of them against the Samnites, to measure their power by money and not by soldiers; for having undertaken the proceeding to aid them, after two defeats were constrained to make themselves tributaries of the Romans if they wanted to save themselves.

CHAPTER XI

IT IS NOT A PRUDENT PROCEEDING TO MAKE AN ALLIANCE WITH A PRINCE WHO HAS MORE REPUTATION THAN POWER

Titus Livius, wanting to show the error of the Sidicians in trusting to the aid of the Campanians, and the error of the Campanians in believing themselves able to defend them, could not say it with more forceful words, saying, The Campanians brought a greater name in aid of the Sidicians, than they did men for protecting them. Where it ought to be noted that leagues made with Princes who have neither the convenience of aiding you because of the remoteness of their location nor the strength to do so because of disorganization or other reasons of theirs, bring more notoriety than aid to those who trust in them: as happened in our times to the Florentines, when in one thousand four hundred seventy nine (1479) the Pope and the King of Naples assaulted them, that being friends of the King of France derived from that friendship more notoriety than protection; as also would happen to that Prince who should undertake some enterprise trusting himself to the Emperor Maximilian, because this is one of those friendships that would bring to whoever made it more notoriety than protection, as is said in this treatise of what that of the Campanians brought to the Sidicians.

¶ The Campanians, therefore, erred in this part by imagining themselves to have more strength than they had. And thus little prudence sometimes does to men, who not knowing how nor being able to defend themselves, want to undertake enterprises to defend others; as also the Tarentines did, who, when the Roman armies encountered the Samnites, sent ambassadors to the Roman Consul to make him understand that they wanted peace between those two people, and that they were ready to make war against the one that should refuse peace. So that the Consul, laughing at this proposition, in the presence of the ambassadors, had the (bugle) sound for battle and commanded his army to go and meet the enemy, showing the Tarentines by acts and not words of what a reply they were worthy.

¶ And having in the present chapter discussed the wrong proceedings which Princes undertake for the defense of others, in the following one I want to talk of those means they should undertake for their own defense.

CHAPTER XII

IS IT BETTER, FEARING TO BE ASSAULTED, TO CARRY OUT OR AWAIT WAR

I have heard from men much practiced in the things of war some time discuss whether, if there are two Princes of almost equal strength, if one more stalwart has declared war against the other, what would be the better proceeding for the other, either to await the enemy within his own boundaries, or to go out to meet him in his house and assault him. And I have heard reasons cited on every side. And those who defend the going out to assault the other, cite the counsel that Croesus gave to Cyrus when, having arrived at the confines of the Messagates to make war against them, their Queen Tamiri sent to say that they should select which of the two proceedings they wanted, either to enter her Kingdom where she would await him, or that he want her to come out to meet him: And the matter coming under discussion, Croesus, against the opinion of the others, said that he would go to meet her, saying that if he should vanquish her at a distance from her kingdom, he would not be able to take away her kingdom because she would have time to recover; but if he should vanquish her within her confines he could follow her in flight and, by not giving her time to recover, could take away her State from her. He also cites the counsel that Hannibal gave Antiochus when that king planned to make war against the Romans, where he showed that the Romans could not be beaten except in Italy, for there the others could avail themselves of the arms and the wealth of their friends; but whoever would combat them outside Italy and would leave Italy free to them, he would leave them that font which would never lack life in supplying strength where it was needed: and he concluded that Rome could be taken from the Romans easier than the Empire, and Italy before the other provinces. He also cites Agatocles, who, not being able to sustain the war at home, assaulted the Carthaginians who were waging it against him, and reduced them to ask for peace. He cites Scipio, who, to lift the war from Italy, assaulted Africa.

Those who speak to the contrary say that he who wants to inflict an evil on the enemy will draw him away from home. They cite the Athenians, who, as long as they made war convenient to their home, remained superior, but that when they went a distance with their armies into Sicily, lost their liberty. They cite the poetic fables where it is shown that Anteus, King of Libya, being assaulted by Hercules the Egyptian, was insuperable as long as he awaited him within the confines of his own kingdom, but as soon as he went off a distance, through the astuteness of Hercules, lost the State and his life. Whence a place is given to the fable of Anteus who, when (thrown) on the ground, recovered his strength from his mother which was the earth, and that Hercules, becoming aware of this, lifted him high (and) off the ground. They also cite modern judges. Everyone knows that Ferrando, King of Naples, was held to be a most wise Prince in his time, and when two years before his death, news came that the King of France, Charles VIII, wanted to come to assault him, after he had made preparations, but fell sick, and as he was approaching death, among other advices he left to his son Alfonso, was that he should await the enemy inside the Kingdom, and for nothing in thy world to withdraw his forces outside of his State, but should await him entirely within all his borders. Which (advice) was not observed by him, but sending an army into the Romagna, without a fight, lost it and the State. In addition to the instances described, the reasons that are cited in favor of every (both) side are: That he who assaults comes with more spirit than he who awaits, which makes the army more confident. In addition to this, many advantages are taken away from the enemy to be able to avail himself of his resources, (and) he will not be able to avail himself of those from his subjects who have been plundered; and as the enemy is in his house, the Lord is constrained to have more regard in extracting money from them and in overworking them, so that that font comes to dry up, as Hannibal says, which makes him able to sustain the war. In addition to this, his solders, because they find themselves in the countries of others, are more necessitated to fight, and that necessity makes virtu, as we have several times said.

On the other hand, it is said that in awaiting the enemy one waits with many advantages, for without any inconvenience you can cause great inconveniences of provisions and of every other thing which an army needs: You can better impede his designs because of the greater knowledge of the country you have than he: You can meet him with more strength because of being able to unite (concentrate) (your forces) easily, while he cannot take his all away from home: You can ((if defeated)) recover easily, as much because much can be saved of your army having places of refuge near, as well as reinforcements do not have to come from a distance, so that you come to risk all your forces but not all your fortune; but taking yourself to a distance you risk all your fortune but not all your strength. And there have been some who, in order better to weaken their enemy, have allowed him to enter several days (march) into their country and to take many Towns, so that by leaving garrisons everywhere his army is weakened, and then they are able to combat him the more easily.

But to say now what I think, I believe that this distinction ought to be made: either I have my country armed like the Romans and as the Swiss have, or I have it disarmed like the Carthaginians, and as have the Kings of France and the Italians. In this (latter) case the enemy ought to be kept distant from home, for your virtu being in money and not in men, whenever that (money) may be impeded to you, you are lost, and nothing will impede it to you as war at home. As an example, there are the Carthaginians, who, as long as they were undisturbed at home with their revenues, could make war against the Romans, but when they were assaulted (in their own country) they were unable to resist (even) Agathocles. The Florentines did not have any remedy against Castruccio, Lord of Lucca, because he waged war against them at home, so that they were obliged to give themselves ((in order to be defended)) to King Robert of Naples. But after the death of Castruccio, those same Florentines had the courage to assault the Duke of Milan in his home (territory) and work to take away his Kingdom. As much virtu as they showed in distant wars, just so much baseness (did they show) in nearby ones. But when Kingdoms are armed as Rome was armed and as the Swiss are, the more difficult are they to overcome the nearer you are to them. For these bodies (states) can unite more forces to resist an attack (impetus) than they are able to assault others. Nor am I moved in this case by the authority of Hannibal, because his passion and his interests make him say thusly to Antiochus. For if the Romans had experienced in Gaul three such defeats in so great a space of time as they had in Italy from Hannibal, without doubt they would have been beaten; for they would not have availed themselves of the remnants of the armies as they did in Italy, (and) could not have reorganized them with the same ease, nor could they have resisted the enemy with that same strength as they were able to. It has never been found that they ever sent outside armies of more than fifty thousand men in order to assault a province: but to defend themselves at home against the Gauls after the first Punic war, they put eighteen hundred thousand men under arms. Nor could they have put to rout those (Gauls) in Lombardy as they routed them in Tuscany, for they could not have led so great a force against so great a number of enemies at so great a distance, nor fight them with such advantage. The Cimbrians routed a Roman army in Germany; nor did the Romans have a remedy. But when they (Cimbrians) came into Italy and they (Romans) were able to put all their forces together, they destroyed them (Cimbrians). The Swiss are. easily beaten when away from home where they cannot send more than thirty or forty thousand men, but it is very difficult to beat them at home where they are able to gather together a hundred thousand.

I conclude again, therefore, that that Prince who has his people armed and organized for war should always await a powerful and dangerous war (enemy) at home and not go out to meet it. But that (Prince) who has his subjects unarmed and the country unaccustomed to war, should always keep it as distant as he can. And thus one and the other ((each in his own manner)) will defend himself better.

CHAPTER XIII

THAT ONE COMES FROM THE BOTTOM TO A GREAT FORTUNE MORE BY FRAUD THAN BY FORCE

I believe it to be a most true thing that it rarely or never happens that men of little fortune come to high rank without force and without fraud, unless that rank to which others have come is not obtained either by gift or by heredity. Nor do I believe that force alone will ever be found to be enough; but it will be indeed found that fraud alone will be enough; as those will clearly see who read the life of Philip of Macedonia, that of Agathocles the Sicilian, and many such others, who from the lowest, or rather low, fortune have arrived either to a Kingdom or to very great Empires. Xenophon shows in his life of Cyrus this necessity to deceive, considering that the first expedition that he has Cyrus make against the King of Armenia is full of fraud, and that he makes him occupy his Kingdom by deceit and not by force. And he does not conclude anything else from such action except that to a Prince who wants to do great things, it is necessary to learn to deceive. In addition to this, he made Cyraxes, King of the Medes, his maternal uncle, to be deceived in so many ways, without which fraud he shows that Cyrus could not have achieved that greatness he attained. Nor do I believe anyone will ever be found of such fortune to have arrived at great Empire only by force and ingenuity, but indeed only by fraud, as did Giovanni Galeazzo in order to take away the State and Dominion of Lombardy from his uncle Messer Bernabo. And that which Princes are obliged to do at the beginning of their expansions, Republics are also obliged to do until they have become powerful so that force alone will be enough. And as Rome used every means, either by chance or by election, necessary to achieve greatness, she did not also hesitate to use this one (fraud). Nor could she, in the beginning, use greater deceit than to take up the method discussed above by us to make associates for herself, because under this name she made them her slaves, as were the Latins, and other surrounding people. For first she availed herself of their arms to subdue the neighboring peoples and to take up the reputation of the State: after subduing them, she achieved such great expansion that she could beat everyone. And the Latins never became aware that they were wholly slaves until they saw two routs of the Samnites and (saw them) constrained to come to an accord. As this victory greatly increased the reputation of the Romans with the distant Princes, who heard the Roman name and not their arms, generating envy and suspicion in those who saw and felt those arms, among whom were the Latins. And so much was this envy and so powerful this fear, that not only the Latins, but the colonies they had in Latium, together with the Associates who had been defended a short time before, conspired against the Roman name. And the Latins began this war in the way mentioned above that the greater part of wars are begun, not by assaulting the Romans, but by defending the Sidicians against the Samnites, against whom the Samnites were making war with the permission of the Romans. And that it is true that the Latins began the war because they had recognized this deceit, is shown by T. Livius through the mouth of Annius Setinus, a Latin Praetor, who in their council said these words: If even now under the pretext of equal confederates, we can suffer servitude, etcetera.

It will be seen, therefore, that the Romans in their first expansions did not also lack using fraud; which has always been necessary for those to use who, from small beginnings, want to rise to sublime heights, which is less shameful when it is more concealed, as was this of the Romans.

CHAPTER XIV

MEN OFTEN DECEIVE THEMSELVES BELIEVING THAT BY HUMILITY THEY OVERCOME HAUGHTINESS

Many times it is seen that humility not only does not benefit, but harms, especially when it is used by insolent men who, either from envy or for other reasons, have conceived a hatred against you. Of this our Historian gives proof on the occasion of the war between the Romans and the Latins. For when the Samnites complained to the Romans that the Latins had assaulted them, the Romans did not want to prohibit such a war to the Latins, desired not to irritate them; which not only did not irritate them, but made them become more spirited against them (Romans), and they discovered themselves as enemies more quickly. Of which, the words of the aforementioned Annius, the Latin Praetor, in that same council, attest, where he says: You have tried their patience in denying them military aid: why do you doubt this should excite them? Yet they have borne this pain. They have heard we are preparing an army against their confederates, the Samnites, yet have not moved from their City. Whence is there such modesty, except from their recognition of both our virility and theirs? It is very clearly recognized, therefore, by this text how much the patience of the Romans increased the arrogance of the Latins. And therefore a Prince ought never to forego his own rank, and ought never to forego anything by accord, wanting to forego it honorably, unless he is able or believes that he is able to hold it; for it is almost always better ((matters having been brought to the point where you cannot forego it in the manner mentioned)) to allow it to be taken away by force, rather than by fear of force; for if you permit it from fear, you do so in order to avoid war, but most of the times you do not avoid it, for he to whom you have from baseness conceded this, will not be satisfied, but will want to take other things away from you, and he will excite himself more against you esteeming you less: and on the other hand, in your favor you will find the defenders more cold, it appearing to them that you are either weak or a coward: but as soon as you discover the intention of the adversary, if you prepare your forces, even though they may be inferior to his, he will begin to respect you, (and) the other neighboring Princes will respect you more, and the desire to aid you will come to those ((being armed by you)) who, even if you gave yourself up, would never aid you.

This is what is learned when you have an enemy: but when you have several, to render to some of them some of your possessions, either to gain him over to yourself even though war should already have broken out, or to detach your enemies from the other confederates, is always a prudent proceeding.

CHAPTER XV

WEAK STATES ARE ALWAYS AMBIGUOUS IN THEIR RESOLUTIONS, AND WEAK DECISIONS ARE ALWAYS HARMFUL

In connection with this same matter and with the origin of the war between the Latins and the Romans it can be noted, that in all deliberations it is well to come to the point of what it is to be decided and not to be always ambiguous, nor to remain uncertain of the matter. Which is manifestly seen in the deliberation that the Latins held when they thought of alienating themselves from the Romans. For having foreseen this bad mood that had come upon the Latin people, the Romans in order to assure themselves of the matter and to see if they could regain those people to themselves without resorting to arms, made them understand that they should send eight Citizens to Rome, because they wanted to consult with them. The Latins, learning of this, and being conscious of many things done against the wishes of the Romans, called a council to arrange who should go to Rome and to give them the commission of what they should say: And while this was deliberated in the councils, their Praetor Annius said these words: I judge it to be most important for our interest, that we should think of what we shall do that what we shall say: when we have decided that, it will be easy to accommodate our words (the details of our counsels) to our acts. These words without doubt are very true, and ought to be of benefit to every Prince and every Republic; for words are not made to explain the ambiguity and incertitude of that which is to be done, but once the mind is fixed, and that which is to be done decided, it is an easy thing to find the words. I have the more willingly noted this part, as I have known many such indecisions to interfere with public actions, with damage and shame to our Republic: And this will always happen that in doubtful proceedings and where spirit is needed in making decisions, this ambiguity (indecision) will exist when these deliberations and decisions have to be made by weak men. Slow and late decisions are also not less harmful than ambiguous ones, especially when they have to decide in favor of some friend, for no person is helped by their lateness, and it injures oneself. Such decisions so made proceed from feebleness of spirit and strength or from the malignity of those who have to decide, who, moved by their own passion to want to ruin the State or to fulfill some desire of theirs, do not allow the deliberations to proceed, but impede and thwart them. For good citizens ((even though they see a popular fad turning itself into a perilous course)) never impede deliberations, especially when those matters cannot be delayed.

After the death of Hieronymus, Tyrant of Syracuse, while the war between the Carthaginians and the Romans was at its height, a dispute arose among the Syracusans whether they ought to follow the Roman friendship (alliance) or the Carthaginian. And so great was the ardor of the parties that they remained undecided, nor was any action taken, until at last Appolonides, one of the first men of Syracuse, with a speech (of his) full of prudence, showed that those who held the opinion to adhere to the Romans were not to be blamed, nor those who wanted to follow the Carthaginian side; but that it was right to detest that indecision and tardiness in taking up the proceeding, because he saw surely the proceeding had been undertaken (the decision made), whatever it might be, some good could be hoped for. Nor could T. Livius show better than in this case the damage done by remaining undecided. He shows it also in the case of the Latins, for the Lavinians seeking their aid against the Romans, they delayed so long in determining upon it that, when they had just gone out of the gate with forces to give them succor, the news arrived that the Latins were routed. Whence Milonius, their Praetor, said: This short march would cost us much with the Roman people: For if they had decided at once either to help or not to help the Latins, they would by not aiding them not have irritated the Romans; and by helping them, the aid being in time, they could by joining forces enable them to win; but by delaying, they would come to lose in any case, as happened to them.

And if the Florentines had noted this text, they would not have received so much injury or so much trouble from the French as they had in the passage of King Louis XII of France to make war against Lodovico, Duke of Milan, in Italy. For the King when he was considering such a passage sought to make an accord with the Florentines, and the ambassadors to the King made an accord with him that they would remain neutral, and that the King after coming into Italy should take their State under his protection, and gave the City one month to ratify it. This ratification was delayed by those who, because of little prudence, favored the affairs of Lodovico, so that the King having already achieved his victory, and the Florentines then wanting to ratify it, the ratification was not accepted, as he recognized that the friendship of the Florentines came by force and not voluntarily. Which cost the City of Florence much money, and was to lose them the State, as happened to them another time from similar causes. And that proceeding was so much more damnable because it did not even serve the Duke Lodovico, who, if he had won, would have shown more signs of enmity against the Florentines than did the King.

And although above in another chapter I have discussed the evil that results to a Republic from this weakness, none the less having a new opportunity for a new incident, I wanted to repeat it, especially as it seems to me a matter that ought to be noted by Republics similar to ours.

CHAPTER XVI

HOW MUCH THE SOLDIERS IN OUR TIMES ARE DIFFERENT FROM THE ANCIENT ORGANIZATION

The most important engagement ever fought in any war with any nation by the Roman People, was that which they had with the Latin people during the Consulate of Torquatus and of Decius. As every reason would have it, just as by the loss of the battle the Latins became slaves, so too the Romans would have been slaves if they had not won. And Titus Livius is of this opinion, because on both sides he makes the armies equal in organization, in virtu, in obstinacy, and in numbers: the only difference he makes is that the Heads of the Roman army were of more virtu than those of the Latin army. It will also be seen that in the managing of this engagement, two incidents arose which had not arisen before, and that afterwards were rare examples; that of the two Consuls, in order to uphold the courage of the soldiers and keep them obedient to their command and more deliberate in action, one killed himself and the other his son. The equality which Titus Livius says existed in these armies resulted from their having fought together a long time, having the same language, the same discipline, and the same arms: For they held to the same manner in the order of battle, and the organizations and Heads of the organization had the same names: Being of equal strength and of equal virtu, it was therefore necessary that something extraordinary should arise which would make one more firm and obstinate than the other; in which obstinacy victory ((as was said at another time)) was contained; for so long as that endured in the breasts of those who combatted, no army will ever turn its back. And as it endured more in the breasts of the Romans than in the Latins, partly chance and partly the virtu of the Consuls gave rise that Torquatus had to kill his son and Decius himself.

In demonstrating this equality of strength, T. Livius shows the whole organization that the Romans had in the armies and in battles. As he has explained this at length, I will not otherwise repeat it; but I will discuss only that which I judge to be notable, and that which, because it is neglected by all Captains of these times, has caused many disorders in armies and battles. I say, then, that from the text of Livius it is gathered that the Roman armies were composed of three principal divisions, which in Tuscan can be called Ranks, and they named the first Astati, the second Principi, the third Triari, and each of these had its cavalry. In organizing a battle they put the Astati in front, directly behind in the second line they placed the Principi, and in the same manner in the third line they placed the Triari. The cavalry of all of these orders were placed to the right and the left of these three battalions, the ranks of which cavalry, from their shape and place, they called Alae (Wings), because they seemed like two wings of that body. They arranged the first ranks of the Astati, which were in the front and serried in a way that it could strike or sustain (the attack of) the enemy. The second line of the Principi ((as it was not the first in combat, but was bound to support the first line when it was struck or hurled back)), they did not make straight, but maintained its order open (thin) and of a kind so that it could receive within itself the first line, without disordering itself, whenever, pushed by the enemy, it should be necessary for them to retreat. The third line of the Triari was arranged even more open than the second, in order to receive within itself, if need be, the first two lines of Principi, and Astati. These three ranks thus deployed kindled the battle, and if the Astati were forced or overcome, they retreated into the open ranks of the Principi, and the two ranks being united together into one body rekindled the battle: if these were also forced or rebuffed, they both retired into the open ranks of the Triari, and all these ranks becoming one body, renewed the fight; where, if they were overcome ((for not having further reinforcements)) they lost the engagement. And as every time that this last rank of Triari became engaged, the army was in danger, and gave rise to that proverb, The matter has come to the Triari, which in Tuscan usage means to say, we have put up the last resource.

The captains of our times, having abandoned entirely the organization and no longer observing the ancient discipline, have thus abandoned this part which is not of little importance: for whoever arranges (his army) so as to be able to reorganize three times in an engagement, must have fortune inimical to him three times in order to lose, and must have (pitted) against him a virtu three times as adept to overcome him. But whoever cannot maintain himself against the first onrush ((as the Christian armies are today)) can lose easily, for every disorder, every half-way virtu, can take away the victory. And that which prevents our armies from being able to reorganize three times is to have lost the manner of receiving one rank into the other. Which arises because at present engagements are arranged with two defects: either their ranks are formed shoulder to shoulder, and make their battle line wide in front and thin in depth, which makes it very weak from having too few men in the depth of the ranks: or, in order to make it stronger, they reduce the ranks (in width of the front), in accordance as the Romans did; if the first rank is broken, there not being an arrangement to be received by the second, they will be entangled all together, and rout themselves; for if that front rank is pushed back, it will be hurled on the second; if the second rank wants to go forward, it is impeded by the first: Whence that the first being hurled upon the second, and the second on the third, there ensues so much confusion that the slightest accident often ruins an army.

In the battle at Ravenna, which was ((according to our times)) a very well-fought engagement, in which the Captain of the French forces, Monsignor De Foix, was killed, the Spanish and French armies were organized in one of the above mentioned methods, that is, that the one and the other army came with all its forces arranged shoulder to shoulder so as to have a wide front and little depth. And thus they always did when they had a large field as they had at Ravenna: for recognizing the disorder that is caused in retiring, when they put themselves all into one rank, they avoid it when they can by making the front wide, as has been said; but when the country is restricted, they remain in the disorder described above without thinking of a remedy. In similar disorder the cavalry rides through the enemy’s country, either for plunder or for some other purpose of war. And at Santo Regolo and elsewhere in the war against Pisa, where the Florentines were routed by the Pisans in the (time of the) war which existed between the Florentines and that City because of her rebellion, after the passage of Charles, King of France, into Italy; that ruin did not result from anything else than the friendly cavalry, which being in front and repulsed by the enemy, was thrown back into the Florentine infantry and broke it, whence all the remaining forces turned back: and Messer Criaco Del Borgo, Head of the Florentine infantry, has affirmed in my presence many times that he would never have been routed except for the cavalry of his friends. The Swiss who are masters of modern war, when they fought for the French, above all things they take care to put themselves on the side where the friendly cavalry, if it should be repulsed, will not be hurled back on them.

And although this thing would appear easy to understand and not easy to do, none the less there has not yet been found any of our contemporary Captains who have imitated the ancient order and corrected the modern one. And although they also divide their army into three parts, calling one part the Vanguard, the next the Battle Corps, and the last the Rearguard, they do not serve themselves of it other than to command them in their quarters; but in using it, it is a rare thing ((as was said above)) that they do to unite them all in one body, so that they all share the same fortune: And as many, to excuse their ignorance, allege that the violence of the artillery will not allow the same arrangements that the ancients had to be used in these times, I want to discuss this matter in the following chapter, and to examine whether the artillery impedes them so that it is not possible to use the ancient virtu.

CHAPTER XVII

HOW MUCH THE ARMY OUGHT TO ESTEEM THE ARTILLERY IN THE PRESENT TIMES, AND IF THAT OPINION THAT IS GENERALLY HAD OF IT IS TRUE

In addition to the things written above, in considering how the many field fights, called in our times by the French word Engagements (Giornate), and by the Italians Deeds of arms, were fought by the Romans at diverse times, I have thought upon the general opinions of many, which hold that if artillery had existed in those days the Romans would not have been permitted to conquer provinces and make other people tributary to themselves as they did, nor would they in any way have been able to make such large acquisitions: They say also that because of these instrument of fire men are not able to use or show their virtu as they were able to anciently. And a third thing should be added that one now comes to the joining of battle with more difficulty than formerly, nor is it possible to maintain the same discipline as in those times, so that in time wars will be reduced to artillery (exchanges). And as I judge it not to be outside this subject to discuss whether such opinions are true, and whether artillery has increased or diminished the strength of armies, and whether it gives or takes away opportunity to good Captains of acting with virtu.

I shall begin by speaking concerning the first opinion that the ancient Roman armies would not have made the conquests that they did if artillery had existed: Upon which in replying, I say that war is made either to defend oneself or to take the offensive: whence it must first be examined as to which of these two kinds of war make it (artillery) more useful or more damaging. And although there is something to say on both sides, none the less I believe that beyond comparison it does more damage to whoever defends himself than to whoever attacks. The reason I say this is that he who defends himself is either inside some fortified place or in a camp within a stockade: and if he is inside a town, either this town is small as are the greater part of the fortresses, or it is large: in the first case whoever defends himself is entirely lost, for the impetus of the artillery is such that a wall has not yet been found which is so strong that in a few days it will be battered down by it; and if whoever is inside does not have considerable space for retreat, and (cannot protect himself) with ditches and earthworks, he is lost, nor can he sustain the attack of the enemy who would then enter through the breach in the wall: nor will the artillery he has be of any benefit to him in this, for there is a maxim that where men attack in mass, the artillery will not stop them; and thus the fury of the Ultramontanes in the defense of their lands has never been resisted: the assaults of the Italians are easily resisted, as they go in battle, not in mass, but in small detachments, which by their own name are called Scaramouches (skirmishes): and when they deliberately go in this disordered manner into a breach in a wall where there is artillery, they go to a certain death, for against them the artillery is of value: but when they go in a dense mass, and one pushes the other as they come to a break, if they are not impeded by ditches or earthworks, they enter in every place and artillery will not hold them: and if some are killed, they cannot be so many that they would impede the victory. That this is true has been recognized by the many conquests made by the Ultramontanes in Italy, and especially that of Brescia; for when that land rebelled against the French, and the fortress being still held by the King of France, the Venetians, in order to resist the attacks which could come from the town, had fortified all the road that descends from the fortress to the City with artillery, placing it in front and on the flanks and in every convenient place: of which Monsignor De Foix took no account, rather, with his squadron, he descended on foot, and passing through the midst of it (the artillery) occupied the City, nor from what was heard had he received any recordable damage. So that whoever defends himself in a small area ((as was said)) and finding the walls of his town breached, and does not have space to retreat with earthworks and ditches, and have to rely on artillery, will quickly be lost.

If you defend a large town and have the convenience of retreating, I none the less maintain beyond comparison that artillery is more useful to whoever is outside than to whoever is inside. First, because if you want artillery to harm those outside, you are necessitated to raise yourself with it above the level of the surrounding land, for being on the plain, every little embankment and earthwork that the enemy raises remains secure, and you cannot harm him, so that by having to raise it and draw it along the aisle between the walls, or in some other way raise it above the ground, you have two drawbacks: the first, that you cannot place artillery of the same size and power as those outside can bring to bear, as you are not able in a small place to handle large things: the other, no matter how well you can place it, you cannot make those earthworks trustworthy and secure in order to save the said artillery as those outside can do being on higher ground, and having that convenience and space which they themselves lacked: So that it is impossible to whoever defends a town to keep his artillery in elevated positions when those who are on the outside have plenty and powerful artillery: and if they have to place it in lower places, it becomes in large part useless, as has been said. So that the defense of a City is reduced to defending it with the same (manual) arms as was done anciently, and with small size artillery: from which little usefulness is derived ((because of the small size artillery)) unless there is a mine of disadvantages that counterweighs the advantage (of the artillery): for in respect to that, the walls of the town are kept low and almost buried in the ditches, so that when the battle comes to hand to hand fighting, either because the walls are breached or the ditches filled up, those inside have many more disadvantages than they had before. And therefore ((as was said above)) these instruments benefit much more whoever besieges the towns that whoever is besieged.

As to the third case when you are in a camp within a stockade and you do not want to come to an engagement unless it is at your convenience or advantage, I say that in this case you do not ordinarily have a better remedy to defend yourself without fighting than what the ancients had, and some times you may have greater disadvantage on account of your artillery: For if the enemy turns on you and has even a small advantage of ground, as can easily happen, and finds himself higher than you, or that at his arrival you have not yet finished your earthworks and covered yourself well with them, he quickly dislodges you before you have any remedy and you are forced to go out of your fortress and come to battle. This happened to the Spaniards in the engagement at Ravenna, who, being entrenched between the river Ronco and an earthwork which was built insufficiently high, and the French having a slight advantage of terrain, were constrained by the artillery to leave their fortified place and come to battle. But suppose ((as must often happen)) that the location you have chosen for your camp is higher than the other side at the (time of) encounter, and that your earthworks are good and secure, so that owing to the site and your other preparations, the enemy does not dare to assault you, in this case he will resort to those means that the ancients resorted to when one, with his army, was in a position where he could not be attacked, that is, he will overrun the country, take or besiege lands friendly to you and impede your provisions; so that you will be forced by some necessity to dislodge him, and come to battle, where artillery ((as will be mentioned below)) will not be of much use. Considering, therefore, in what manner the Romans made war, and observing that almost all their wars were to attack others and not to defend themselves, it will be seen ((if all the things said above were true)) that they would have had even greater advantage, and would have made their conquests more easily, if they should have lived in those times (of the advent of artillery).

As to the second proposition, that men are not able to show their virtu as they could anciently because of the use of artillery, I say that it is true that where men have to expose themselves in small groups, that they are exposed to greater danger than when they had to scale (the walls of) a town or make similar assaults, where men did not have to act bunched together, but by themselves one after the other. It is also true that the Captains and Heads of the army are now subjected to the danger of death than at that time, as they can be reached by artillery in every place, and it is of no benefit to them to be in the rear ranks, and protected by their strongest men: None the less it is seen that the one and the other of these dangers rarely caused extraordinary damages, for well fortified towns are not scaled, nor do you go to assault them with feeble attacks, but in wanting to conquer them, the matter is reduced to a siege, as was done anciently. And even in those places that can be conquered by assault, the dangers are not much greater now then they were then, for even in that time there did not lack to the defenders of towns means for throwing (missiles), which ((if they were not as furious (as cannon) is)) had a similar effect in killing men. As to the death of Captains and Candottieri, in the twenty four years in which there have been wars in Italy in recent times, there have been fewer examples then there were in any ten years time (of war) of the ancients. For, outside of Count Lodovico Della Mirandola ((who was killed at Ferrara when the Venetians assaulted that State a few years ago)) and the Duke of Nemours ((who was killed at Cirignuola)), it never happened that any were killed by artillery, since Monsignor De Foix was killed at Ravenna by steel (sword) and not by fire. So that if men do not show their virtu individually, it is not the result of the artillery, but from poor discipline and weakness of the armies, which, lacking virtu collectively, are not able to show it in the (individual) parts.

As to the third proposition mentioned by some, that it is no longer possible to come to hand-to-hand fighting, and that wars will be entirely conducted through artillery, I say this opinion is entirely false, and will always be so held by those who would want to manage their armies according to the ancient virtu: For whoever wants to create a good army must, by real or feigned exercises, accustom his men to meet the enemy, and to come against him with sword in hand and to seize him bodily, and he must rely more upon the infantry than on cavalry, for the reasons which will be mentioned below. And when they rely on infantry and on the aforementioned means (of training), the artillery will become entirely useless; for the infantry in meeting the enemy can escape the blows of the artillery with greater ease than anciently they were able to escape from the attacks of elephants, from scythed chariots, and other obsolete means of attack which the Roman infantry had to encounter, (and) against which they always found a remedy: and they would have found it so much more readily against this (artillery), as the time in which artillery can harm you is much shorter than that in which the elephants and chariots could do harm. For these disorganized you in the midst of battle, while that (the artillery) only impedes you before the battle; which impediment is easily avoided by the infantry either the nature of the site covering them or by lying down on the ground during the firing. Even experience has shown this not to be necessary, especially when defending themselves from large artillery, which cannot be so (accurately) aimed, (and) either ((if they are aimed high)) they pass over you, or ((if they are aimed low)) they do not reach you. Then when you have come with the army to hand to hand (fighting), this becomes clearer than light that neither the large nor the small artillery can then harm you. For if he has the artillery in front, you capture it, and if he has it in the rear, he first harms his friend rather than you: even on the flank he cannot harm you so, that you cannot go up to capture them, and the result mentioned above (first) will happen.

Nor is this disputed very much, because the example of the Swiss has been seen, who in MDXIII (1513) at Novara, without artillery or cavalry, went to encounter the French army armed with artillery within their fortresses, and routed them without having any impediment from that artillery. And the reason is ((in addition to the things mentioned above)) that the artillery, to be well served, has need to be guarded either by walls, ditches, or earthworks: and that if it lacks one of these guards, it is captured or becomes useless, as happens in open field engagements and battles when it is defended only by men. On the flank it cannot be employed except in that manner that the ancients used their catapults, which they placed outside of the squadrons, so that they should fight outside of the ranks, and every time they were pressed by cavalry or others, they took refuge within the legions. Who employs it otherwise does not understand it well, and relies on something which can easily deceive him. And if the Turk by means of artillery gained the victory over the Sofi (Persians) and the Soldan (Egyptians), it resulted from no other virtu than from the unaccustomed noise which frightened their cavalry. I conclude, therefore, coming to the end of this discussion, that artillery is useful in an army when it is mixed with the ancient virtu, but, without that, it is most useless against a valorous army.

CHAPTER XVIII

THAT BECAUSE OF THE AUTHORITY OF THE ROMANS AND BY THE EXAMPLE OF ANCIENT ARMIES, THE INFANTRY OUGHT TO BE MORE ESTEEMED THAN CAVALRY

And it can be clearly demonstrated by many arguments and by many examples how much the Romans in all their military actions esteemed the foot soldier more than the cavalry, and based all the plans of their forces on them: as is seen by many examples, and among others that which occurred when they came to battle with the Latins next to Lake Regillo, where the Roman army already having given way, made their cavalry descend from their horses in order to succor their foot soldiers, and by that means renewed the battle and obtained the victory. Where it is manifestly seen that the Romans had more confidence in their men, when on foot, than maintaining them on horseback. They used this same means in many other battles, and they always found it an optimum remedy in their dangers. Nor is the opinion of Hannibal opposed to this who, when he saw in the engagement at Cannae that the Consuls made their horsemen descend on foot, making a mock of a like proceeding, said: Quam malem vinctos mini traderent equites, that is, I would have more concern if they would give them to me bound. Which opinion, although coming from the mouth of a most excellent man, none the less if we have to go back to authority, we ought to believe more if it came from a Roman Republic and from so many excellent Captains which she produced, than to one single Hannibal; although even without authorities, there are manifest reasons, for a man can go into many places on foot where he cannot go on horseback: you can teach him to preserve the ranks, and should they be broken, how to reform them, but it is difficult to make horses preserve the ranks, and when they are disturbed impossible to reform them: in addition to this, it will be found ((as in men)) that some horses have little spirit and some have much, and many times it happens that a spirited horse is ridden by a base man, and a timid horse by a spirited man, and however this disparity arises, uselessness and disorder result. Well disciplined infantry can easily break the cavalry but only with difficulty can they be routed by them. Which opinion is corroborated ((in addition to many ancient and modern examples)) by the authority of those who make regulations for civil affairs, where they show that at first wars were begun to be fought by cavalry, because (good) infantry was not yet been organized: but as soon as this was done, it was quickly recognized how much more useful these were then cavalry: However, the cavalry is necessary in armies for reconnaissance, to overrun and plunder the country, and to pursue the enemy when in flight, and to be a part of the opposition to the cavalry of the adversaries: but the foundation and the sinew of the army, and that which should be more esteemed, ought to be the infantry.

And among the faults of the Italian Princes who have made Italy slave to foreigners, there is none greater than to have taken into little account this organization (infantry), and to have turned all their attention to mounted troops. Which error arose from the malignity of the Heads, and from the ignorance of those who ruled the State: For during the past twenty five years the Italian military have been brought under men who did not have a State, but were as Captains (Soldiers) of fortune, whose main thought was how they should be able to maintain their reputation by their being armed, and the Princes disarmed. And as a large number of infantry could not continuously be paid by them, and not having subjects of whom they could avail themselves, and as a small number would not give them reputation, they turned to keeping cavalry; for two hundred or three hundred cavalry paid by a Condottiere maintained his reputation, and the payment was not such that it could not be met by men who had a State: and so that this should be facilitated and to maintain themselves in even greater reputation, they took away all the affection for and the reputation of the infantry, and transferred those to their cavalry; and so greatly increased this disorder, that the infantry was a minimum part of any of the largest armies. Which usage ((together with many other disorders that accompanied it)) made the Italian military so weak, that their province has been easily trampled on by all the Ultramontanes. This error of esteeming cavalry more than infantry is shown more openly by another Roman example. The Romans were besieging Sora, and a squadron of cavalry having gone out from the town to assault the camp, the Master of the Roman cavalry went to meet it with his cavalry, and coming breast to breast, chance would have it that in the first shock the Heads of both armies were killed; and the fight continued none the less, while (both sides) remained without direction, when the Romans in order to overcome the enemy more easily, dismounted and forced the cavalry ((if they wanted to defend themselves)) to do similarly, and with all this the Romans carried the victory.

This example could not be better in demonstrating how much greater virtu there is in the infantry than in the cavalry; for if in the other cases the Consuls made the Roman cavalry dismount, it was to succor the infantry which was suffering and in need of aid; but in this case they dismounted, not to succor the infantry, nor to fight with enemy infantry, but a combat of cavalry against cavalry, (and) not being able to overcome them on horseback, they judged that by dismounting they would be able more easily to overcome them. I want to conclude, therefore, that a well organized infantry cannot be overcome without the greatest difficulty, except by another infantry. Crassus and Marc Anthony overran the dominion of Parthia for many days with very few cavalry and many infantry, and encountered innumerable cavalry of the Parthians. Crassus with part of the army was killed, Marc Anthony saved himself with virtu. None the less, in this Roman affliction is seen how much the infantry prevailed against the cavalry; for being in a large country where mountains are rare, rivers rarer, distant from the sea, and far from all conveniences, none the less, in the judgment of the Parthians themselves, he saved himself skillfully; nor did the Parthian cavalry ever dare to try the discipline of his army. If Crassus were returned to you, whoever examines his actions carefully will see that he was rather deceived than overpowered, and never in his greatest straits did the Parthians dare to hurl themselves against him, rather they always went on flanking him and impeding his provisions, (and) by promising them to him and then not observing it, they reduced him to the last extremity.

I believe I should have to endure more hard work in persuading (the reader) how much more superior is the virtu of the infantry than that of the cavalry, except that there are many modern examples which render the fullest testimony. And it has been seen how nine thousand Swiss at Novara, mentioned above by us, went out and attacked ten thousand cavalry and as many infantry, and defeated them, for the cavalry could not attack them, and the infantry being forces composed for the most part of Gascons and ill-disciplined, they (the Swiss) esteemed them little. It has subsequently been seen how twenty six thousand Swiss went to encounter north of Milan the King of the French, Francis, who had with him twenty thousand cavalry, forty thousand infantry, and a hundred pieces of artillery; and if they did not win the engagement, as at Novara, they fought valiantly for two days, and though they were later routed, half of them were saved. Marcus Attilius Regulus attempted to resist with his infantry not only (the attack of) the cavalry, but the elephants: and if his design did not succeed, yet it not that the virtu of his infantry was not such that he did not have faith in them believing them capable of overcoming those difficulties. I repeat, therefore, that to want to overcome a disciplined infantry it is necessary to oppose them with a better disciplined infantry, otherwise one goes to a manifest defeat.

In the time of Filippo Visconti, Duke of Milan, about sixteen thousand Swiss descended into Lombardy, whence the Duke having at that time Carmignuola as his Captain, sent him with about a thousand cavalry and a few infantry to meet them. This man, not knowing their method of fighting, went to meet them with his cavalry presuming to be able to rout them quickly. But finding them immovable, having lost many of his men, he retired: and being a most valiant man, and knowing he had to take new proceeding in new events, reorganized his forces and went to meet them; and on coming to the engagement made all his men at arms dismount and go on foot, and placing them at the head of the infantry, went to attack the Swiss, who had no remedy (against them). For the forces of Carmignuola being on foot and well armored, could easily enter between the ranks of the Swiss without suffering any injury, and having entered therein could easily attack them: So that of all that number, there remained only the part which was saved through the humanity of Carmignuola.

I believe that many recognize this difference in virtu that exists between the one and the other of these systems, but so great is the infelicity of these times, that neither the examples of the ancients or the moderns, nor the confession of error, is enough to cause the modern Princes to re-see things, and to make them think that to give reputation to the military of a Province or a State it is necessary to revive these insinuations (of the ancients), to keep them close to one, to give them reputation, to give them life, so that in return it may give him life and reputation: And as they deviate from these methods, so they deviate from the other methods mentioned above: whence there results that the acquisitions become harmful, not an aggrandizement, to a State, as will be told below.

CHAPTER XIX

THAT ACQUISITIONS IN REPUBLICS NOT WELL ORGANIZED AND THAT DO NOT PROCEED ACCORDING TO ROMAN VIRTU, ARE THE RUIN AND NOT THE EXALTATION OF THEM

This opinion contrary to the truth, founded upon those bad examples that have been introduced by these corrupt centuries of ours, causes men not to think of deviating from their accustomed habits. Would it have been possible to persuade an Italian of thirty years ago that ten thousand infantry could have attacked, in an open plain, ten thousand cavalry and as many more infantry, and with these not only to fight them, but to defeat them, as is seen in the example at Novara given by us many times? And although histories are full (of such examples), yet they would not have believed it; and if they had believed it, they would have said that in these times one is better armed, and that a squadron of men at arms would be more adept at charging a rock than a body of infantry: and thus with these erroneous arguments their judgment was corrupted, nor have they considered that Lucullus with few infantry routed one hundred and fifty thousand cavalry of (King) Tigranes, and that among those horsemen was a kind of cavalry entirely similar to our men at arms. And thus that fallacy was uncovered by the example of the Ultramontane forces: And as that which is narrated in histories is seen to be true in regard to infantry, so also ought all the other ancient institutions to be believed to be true and useful. And if this were believed, the Republics and Princes would have erred less, would have been stronger in opposing the attack that might come upon them, they would not have put their hope in flight, and those who had the government in their hands would have known better how to direct the manner of aggrandizement or the manner of preservation; and they would have believed that for the city to increase its inhabitants, to make associations for themselves and not subjects, to send colonies to guard the acquired countries, to make capital of the plunder, to subdue the enemy by incursions and engagements, and by sieges, to keep the public rich, the private citizen poor, to maintain military exercises with the greatest zeal, these are the ways to make a Republic great and to acquire Empire. And if these means of expanding did not please them, they would consider that acquisitions by any other means are the ruin of a Republic; and they would place a restraint to all ambition, regulating the internal affairs of the City well with laws and other customs, prohibiting conquests, and thinking only of defending themselves, and to keep the defenses well organized; as do the Republics of Germany, who, in this manner, live and have lived for a long time.

None the less ((as I have said another time when discussing the difference that existed between being organized for conquest and being organized for preservation)) it is impossible that a Republic succeeds in remaining quiet and enjoy its liberty and her limited confines; for even if she does not molest others, she will be molested: and from being molested there will arise the will and desire for conquest: and even if she should not have any outside enemies, she would find some at home, as it appears necessary to occur to all great Cities. And if the Republics of Germany could live in this fashion, and have been able to endure a long time, it arises from certain conditions that exist in that country which are not found elsewhere, without which they could not have maintained such a manner of living. That part of Germany of which I speak was subject to the Roman Empire, as was France and Spain: but when the decline of the Empire came afterwards, and the rule of that Empire reduced in that Province, the more powerful Cities begun ((according to the weakness or necessity of the Emperors)) to make themselves free, ransoming themselves from the Empire by reserving a small annual rent to it: so that little by little all those Cities which were held directly by the Emperor, and were not subject to any Prince, ransomed themselves in similar fashion. There occurred in these same times when these Cities were ransoming themselves, that certain Communities subject to the Duke of Austria rebelled against him, among which were Fribourg, the Swiss, and other like, which prospering from the beginning, gradually expanded little by little, that they did not return under the yoke of Austria, and became feared by their neighbors; and these are those whom we call Swiss. And therefore this Province is divided between the Swiss, Republics which they call Free Towns, Princes, and the Emperor. And the reason that among such a diversity of forms of government wars do not arise, or if they do arise they do not last long, is that this shadow of an Emperor, who, although he has no power, none the less he has so much reputation among them that he is their conciliator, and with his authority by interposing himself as a mediator, quickly extinguishes all trouble. And the major and longer wars that have occurred have been those that took place between the Swiss and the Duke of Austria: and although for many years past the Emperor and the Duke of Austria have been the same person, yet he has never been able to overcome the audacity of the Swiss, where there has never been a means of accord except by force: Nor has the rest of Germany given him much help, as much because the Communities do not want to injure those who want to live free as they do, as because those Princes (are unable to aid him) part of whom cannot because they are poor, part do not want to because they envy his power. These Communities therefore can live contentedly with their small dominions because they have no reason ((in respect to the Imperial authority)) of desiring a greater one: They can live united within their walls because they have an enemy nearby and who would take the opportunity to occupy them whenever they should have a discord. If this Province was constituted otherwise, it would behoove them to seek to expand and break their quiet existence.

And because elsewhere such conditions do not exist, this way of living cannot be adopted, and it is necessary either to expand by means of leagues, or to expand as the Romans did: And whoever governs otherwise seeks not his life, but his death and ruin, for in a thousand ways and for many reasons, the acquisitions are harmful; for he may very well extend his Empire, but not power; and whoever acquires Empire and not power together, comes to ruin. Whoever impoverishes himself in war cannot acquire power, even though he is victorious, for he puts in more than he draws out of the acquisitions; as the Venetians and Florentines have done, who have been much weaker when the one had Lombardy and the other Tuscany, than they were when the one was content with the (dominion of the) sea, and the other with six miles of boundaries. For all of this resulted from their having wanted to acquire but not to have known the means to do so: and they merit so much more blame as they had less excuse, having seen the methods which the Romans employed, and having been able to follow their example, while the Romans, without any example, through their prudence, knew how to find it by themselves. In addition to this, acquisitions sometimes do no little damage to any well ordered Republic when they acquire a City or a Province full of luxury, where those (indolent) habits can be picked up through intercourse they have with them, as happened to Rome first in the acquisition of Capua, and afterwards also to Hannibal. And if Capua had been further distant from the City (of Rome), and if the errors of the soldiers had not have prompt remedy, or if Rome had been in any part corrupted, that acquisition without doubt would have been the ruin of the Roman Republic: And Titus Livius bears witness of this with these words; Capua the instrument of all pleasures, the least conducive to military discipline, turned the spirit of the military away from the memory of their country. And truly similar Cities or Provinces avenge themselves against their conquerors without a fight and without bloodshed; for by transferring to them their own bad habits they expose them to being conquered by whoever assaults them. And Juvenal in his Satires could not have better understood this part, when he says that, because of the acquisitions of foreign lands, foreign customs had entered the breasts of the Romans, and in exchange for parsimony and other very excellent virtus, gluttony and luxury dwell there, and will avenge the conquered world. If, therefore, the conquest was to be pernicious to the Romans in the times when they proceeded with so much prudence and so much virtu, what then would it be to those who deviate from their methods? And what would it be, if in addition to the other errors they make ((which have been discussed at length above)), they avail themselves of mercenary or auxiliary soldiers? Whence often those injuries result which will be mentioned in the following chapter.

CHAPTER XX

WHAT PERILS ARE BROUGHT TO THAT PRINCE OR THAT REPUBLIC WHICH AVAILS ITSELF OF AUXILIARY AND MERCENARY TROOPS

If I had not in another work of mine treated a length of how useless mercenary and auxiliary troops are, and how useful their own (national troops) are, I should extend myself in this discourse much more than I will: but having talked of it at length elsewhere, I shall be brief in this part. Nor did it seem to me I ought to pass it over entirely, having found in Titus Livius ((as to auxiliary soldiers)) so striking an example, for auxiliary soldiers are those which a Prince or a Republic send to your aid, captained and paid: and referring to the text of Titus Livius, I say, that the Romans at different places had routed two armies of the Samnites with their army which had been sent to the succor of the Capuans, and by this liberated the Capuans from that war which the Samnites made against them, (and) as they wanted to return to Rome, in order that the Capuans, who had been deprived of their garrisons should not become a prey again to the Samnites, left two legions in the country of Capua for their defense: Which legions, plunged into idleness, begun to delight themselves there, so that forgetting their country and the reverence due to Senate, decided to take up arms and make themselves lords of that country which they had defended with their virtu, it appearing to them that the inhabitants were not worthy to possess those things which they did not know how to defend. Which matter becoming known, it was suppressed and corrected by the Romans, as will be shown more fully where we will speak of conspiracies.

I say again, therefore, that of all the other kinds of soldiers the auxiliaries are the most harmful, because that Prince or that Republic which calls them to their aid have no authority over them, but only he who sends them has authority. For auxiliary soldiers are those who are sent you by a Prince, as I have said, under their captains, under their ensigns, and paid by them, as was this army that the Romans sent to Capua. Such soldiers as these, when they had won, most of the time plunder as well him who leads them as him against whom they are led; and they do so either from the malignity of the Prince who sends them or from their own ambition. And although the intention of the Romans was not to break the accord and convention which they had made with the Capuans, none the less the ease of attacking them appeared to those soldiers to be such, that it was able to persuade them to think of taking the town and the State from the Capuans. We could give many examples of this, but I deem it sufficient to cite that of the Rhegians, whose lives and city were taken away by a legion which the Romans had placed there as a guard. A Prince or a Republic ought, therefore, first to take up any other proceeding than to have recourse to bringing auxiliary forces into their State relying on them for its defense, for every pact, every convention ((however hard)) that they have with the enemy, will be much lighter than such a proceeding. And if past events are well read, and present ones discussed, it will be found that for one who has had a good ending, infinite others have been deceived. And an ambitious Prince or Republic cannot have a greater opportunity to occupy a City or a Province, than to be requested by it to send their armies to its defense. Therefore, he who is so ambitious that he calls for such aid not only to defend himself but to attack others as well, seeks to acquire that which he will not be able to hold, and which can easily be taken away from him by him from whom he acquired it. But the ambition of men is so great, that to gratify a present desire, do not think of the evil which, in a short time, will result from it. Nor do the ancient examples move him, as well in this as in the other matters discussed; for if they were moved by them, they would see how much more the liberality they show their neighbors, and the less desirous they are of occupying them, so much the more they throw themselves into your arms, as will be told below through the example of the Capuans.

CHAPTER XXI

THE FIRST PRAETOR WHICH THE ROMANS SENT ANY PLACE WAS THE CAPUA, FOUR HUNDRED YEARS AFTER THEY HAD BEGUN TO MAKE WAR (AGAINST THAT CITY)

It has been discussed at length above, how the Romans differed in their manner of proceeding in their acquisitions from those who in the present time expand their jurisdiction; and how they left (the people of) those lands which they did not destroy living with their laws, including even those who had surrendered to them, not as associates, but as subjects, and how they did not leave in them any sign of the authority (Empire) of the Roman people, but obligated them to some conditions, which so long as they were observed by them, they would maintain them in their state and dignity. And it is known that these methods were observed until they went outside of Italy and commenced to reduce Kingdoms and States into Provinces. There is no clearer example of this than that of the Praetors sent by them to any place was to Capua; whom they sent, not because of their ambition, but because they had been requested by the Capuans, who ((there being discord among them)) judged it necessary to have a Roman Citizen within that City who would restore order and re-unify them. From this example, (and) moved and constrained by a similar necessity, the people of Antium also requested a Praetor from them. And T. Livius says of this incident and (commenting) on this new method of ruling, That they promised not only arms, but Roman justice. It is seen, therefore, how much this facilitated Roman expansion; for those Cities mainly that are accustomed to living free or to govern themselves by their own citizens, remain more quiet and content under a government they do not see ((even though it may have some inconvenience in itself)) than under one which they see every day, as it would appear to them they would be reproached by their servitude every day. Another advantage also results to the Prince who, not having at hand his ministers, judges and magistrates to render both civil and criminal decisions in that City, (and) no sentence being able ever to be pronounced which will bring censure or infamy upon the Prince, in this manner, comes to escape many causes of calumny and hatred.

¶ And that this is the truth, in addition to the ancient examples which could be cited, there is one recent example in Italy. For ((everyone knows)) Genoa having been occupied by the French many times, the King always ((except at the present time)) has sent a French Governor who governs in his name. Only at present has he allowed that City to be governed by itself and by a Genoese governor, not by election of the King, but because necessity so ordained. And without doubt, if it were to be examined as to which of these two methods gives more security to the King from the Rule (Empire) over it, and more contentedness to that people, without doubt this latter method would be approved. In addition to this, men will so much more readily throw themselves into your arms the less you appear disposed to subjugate them, and so much less will they fear you in connection with their liberty as you are more humane and affable with them. This affability and liberality made the Capuans have recourse to request the Praetor from the Romans: that if the Romans had shown the slightest desire to send one, they would quickly have become jealous and would have kept their distance from them (Romans).

¶ But what need is there to go to Capua and Rome for examples, when we have them in Florence and Tuscany? Everyone knows how the City of Pistoia a long time ago came voluntarily under the Florentine Empire (Dominion). Everyone also knows how much enmity there has existed between the Florentines, the Pisans, the Lucchese, and the Sienese; and this difference in spirit has not arisen because the Pistoians do not value their liberty as the others or do not esteem themselves as much as the others, but because the Florentines have always borne themselves toward them (the Pistoians) as brothers, and like enemies towards the others. It was this that caused the Pistoians to have run voluntarily under their Dominion, and the others to have used, and still use, every force not to come under them. And doubtless, if the Florentines either by means of leagues or by rendering them aid, had cultivated instead of frightening their neighbors, at this hour they would have been Lords of Tuscany. I do not judge by this that arms and force are not to be employed, but that they ought to be reserved as the last resort where and when other means are not enough.

CHAPTER XXII

HOW OFTEN THE OPINIONS OF MEN IN JUDGING THINGS (TO BE) GREAT ARE FALSE

Those who have found themselves witnesses of the deliberations of men have observed, and still observe, how often the opinions of men are erroneous; which many times, if they are not decided by very excellent men, are contrary to all truth. And because excellent men in corrupt Republics ((especially in quiet times)) are frowned upon both from envy and from other reasons of ambition, it follows that a common deception (error) is judged good, or it is put forward by men who want favors more readily for themselves than for the general good. When this error, in times of adversity, is discovered, then from necessity refuge is sought among those who in times of quiet were almost forgotten, as will be discussed in full in its proper place. Certain events also arise where men who do not have a great amount of experience of things are easily deceived, for they have in them that incident which resembles so many similar actions which are true as to make that one believed, (and) upon cases such as this men are persuaded. These things have been said of that (error) which the Praetor Numicus ((when the Latins were routed by the Romans)) persuaded them, and of that (error) which a few years ago was believed by many, when Francis I, King of France, attempted the conquest of Milan, which was defended by the Swiss.

¶ I say, therefore, that after the death of Louis XII, and Francis of Angouleme succeeded to the kingdom of France, and when he desired to restore to the kingdom the Duchy of Milan, which a few years before was occupied by the Swiss, through the help of Pope Julius II, desired to obtain aid in Italy which should facilitate the enterprise for him; and, in addition to the Venetians whom King Louis and gained over to himself, attempted to regain the Florentines and Pope Leo X, deeming his enterprise would be easier any time he should have regained those people to himself, inasmuch as the forces of the King of Spain were in Lombardy, and the other forces of the Emperor were in Verona. Pope Leo did not yield to the desires of the king, but was persuaded by those who counselled him ((according as it was said)) to remain neutral, showing him that certain victory consisted in this proceeding, for the Church not to have either the King (of France) or the Swiss too powerful in Italy; but if he wanted to bring it (the Church) to its ancient liberty, it was necessary to liberate her from the servitude of the one and the other. And because it was not possible to overcome one and the other, or each one separately, or both together, it would be best that one should overcome the other, and that the Church with her friends should attack the one that remained victor. And it was impossible to find a better opportunity than the present, as the one and the other were in the field, and the Pope had his forces organized so as to be able to show himself on the borders of Lombardy and near to both armies, under pretext of wanting to guard his possessions; and where he could remain until an engagement should take place, which reasonably ((both armies being of equal virtu)) ought to be bloody for both parties, and leave the victor so debilitated that it would be easy for the Pope to assail him and rout him, and thus he would, with great glory to himself, to remain Lord of Lombardy and arbiter of all Italy. And how much this opinion was wrong is to be seen from the result, for the Swiss were defeated after a long fight, and the forces of the Pope and of Spain did not presume to assault the victors, but prepared for flight: which also would not have done them good if it had not been for the humanity or indifference of the (French) King, who did not seek a second victory, but it sufficed him to make an accord with the Church.

This advice was based on certain reasons which at a distance appear true, but are entirely alien to the truth. For it rarely happens that the victor loses many of his soldiers, because the victor loses only those who die in battle, none by flight; and in the ardor of the combat, when men have turned to face one another, only a few fall, especially because very often it only lasts a short time: and even if it did last a long time and many of the victors should die, the reputation which follows the victory and the terror which it brings with it, are such that it greatly outweighs the injury which the death of his soldiers causes the victor to endure. So that an army, which in the belief that he has been weakened, should go and meet him, will find itself deceived, unless the army should be such as to be able to have combatted with him at any time, even before the victory. In this case it is possible to win or lose according to its fortune and virtu; but that one which should have first fought, and won, will have rather the advantage over the other. This was recognized for certain by the experience of the Latins and by the error that the Praetor Numicus committed, and by the injuries which those people suffered who believed him, when ((after the Romans had defeated the Latins)) he shouted throughout all the country of Latium now was the time to assault the Romans weakened by the fight they had had with them, and that only the name of victory remained to the Romans, inasmuch as all the other injuries they had suffered were as though they had been defeated, and that any little force that should assault them anew would destroy them. Whence those people who believed him raised a new army, but were quickly routed, and suffered those injuries which those people always suffer who hold similar opinions.

CHAPTER XXIII

HOW MUCH THE ROMANS, IN JUDGING THE MATTERS FOR ANY INCIDENT THAT SHOULD NECESSITATE SUCH JUDGMENT, AVOIDED HALF-WAY MEASURES

Such was the state of things in Latium, that they could endure neither peace nor war. Of all the happy and unhappy states to which a Prince or a Republic can be reduced is to come to such terms that they cannot accept peace or sustain war; to which those are reduced who are oppressed too much by the conditions of the peace, and who, on the other hand, ((wanting to make war)) would have to throw themselves as prey to those who aid them, or to remain prey to the enemy. And all this comes from evil counsels and from the bad procedure of not having well measured their strength, as was said above. For that Republic or that Prince which should measure them well, will only with difficulty be brought to that condition which the Latins were brought, who made an accord with the Romans when they ought not to have, and declared war when they ought not to have, and thus they knew how to manage so that the enmity and friendship of the Romans were equally damaging to them. The Latins were therefore overcome and afflicted in the extreme, first by Manlius Torquatus, and afterwards by Camillus, who having constrained them to give themselves up and put themselves into the arms of the Romans, and having placed guards throughout the towns of Latium, and having taken hostages from all, returned to Rome and reported to the Senate that all Latium was in the hands of the Roman people. And as this judgment was notable and merits being observed so as to be able to be imitated when similar opportunities are given to Princes, I want to cite the words which Livius placed in the mouth of Camillus, which give witness both of the manner which the Romans held in expanding and how in the judgments of the State they always avoided half-way measures and turned to extremes. For a government consists only in so holding the subjects that they cannot or ought not want to injure you. This is done either by assuring yourself entirely by taking away from them all means of harming you, or by benefiting them so that it would not be reasonable that they would have a desire for any change of fortune. Which is entirely understood, first from the proposition of Camillus, and then by the judgment given by the Senate upon it. His words were these: The immortal Gods caused you to go where you were able to by these counsels, placing in your hands whether Latium should exist. Therefore, you can prepare a peace in perpetuity in relation to the Latins, either by violence or forgiveness. Will you proceed cruelly against those whom you conquered and who gave themselves up to you? If so, you are at liberty to destroy all Latium. Will you rather by example desire to increase the power of the Roman Republic by accepting those whom you have overcome into your citizenship? If so, you have the opportunity for a most glorious increase. Certainly that Empire is more firm which enjoys obedience. While, therefore, their minds are in a stupor and in suspense, it behooves you to assure yourselves either through punishment or benefits. This proposition was followed by the decision of the Senate which was in accordance with the words of the Consul, so that going from town to town which were of importance, they either bestowed benefits on them or destroyed them, granting to the beneficiaries exemptions and privileges, giving them Citizenship, and assuring them in every way: the others they destroyed their towns, colonies were sent there, (the inhabitants) transferred to Rome, and so dispersing them that they could never by arms or by counsel injure Rome.

Nor did they (the Romans) ever employ neutral means in these matters of moment ((as I have said)). Princes ought to imitate this judgment, and the Florentines ought to have adopted this course when, in MDII (1502) Arezzo and all the Val Di Chiana rebelled: which if they had done so, they would have secured their Empire and greatly increased the City of Florence, and given her those fields which she lacked in order to live. But they employed that middle way, which is most pernicious in the judging of men, so that they exiled part of the Aretini, and a part they condemned to death, and they deprived all of them of their honors and their ancient ranks in the City, but left the City entire. And when any Citizen in their deliberations advised that Arezzo should be destroyed, those who were deemed more wise said that it would be of little honor to the Republic to destroy her, as it would appear that Florence lacked the strength to hold her: which reasons are of those which appear to be, but are not, true; for by this same reason a parricide, a criminal, or an infamous person would not be put to death, as it would be a shame for that Prince to show that he did not have the power to be able to restrain a solitary man, And those who have similar opinions do not see, that individual men, and a whole City, will some times so sin against a State, that as an example to others, and for his own security, a Prince has no other remedy but to destroy them. And honor consists in being able and knowing when and how to castigate them, not in being able with a thousand dangers to hold them, for the Prince who does not castigate evil-doers in a way that he can no longer do evil, is held to be either ignorant or cowardly. This judgment which the Romans gave when it was necessary, is also confirmed by the sentence given against the Privernati. Where from the text of Livius, two things ought to be noted: the one, that which is mentioned above that subjects ought to given benefits or destroyed: the other, how much the generosity of spirit and speaking the truth helps, especially when it is spoken in the presence of prudent men. The Roman Senate had assembled to judge the Privernati, who had rebelled, but were later by force returned to the Roman obedience. Many Citizens had been sent by the people of Privernatum to beg pardon from the Senate, and when they had come into their presence, one of them was asked by a Senator, what punishment do you think the Privernati merit? To which the Privernate replied, That which those who feel themselves worthy of liberty merit. To which the Consul replied, If we remit your punishment, what peace can we hope to have with you? To which that man responded, A faithful and perpetual one, if you give us a good one; if a bad one, only a day-by-day one. Whence, although many were displeased, the wiser part of the Senate said, This was the voice of free and virile people, and they could not believe that it is possible for that people, or an individual, would otherwise remain in a condition that was punishment to them, except if it resulted from necessity. Peace would be trustful where it was made voluntarily, and not from a position where servitude is prevalent where it is hopeless to look for good faith. And after these words they decided that the Privernati should be Roman Citizens, and they honored them with the privileges of their society, saying: Those who think of nothing except liberty are here worthy of being Romans. So much did this true and generous response (of the Privernati) please those generous spirits (Romans); for any other response would have been false and cowardly. And those who believe men to be otherwise ((especially if these are accustomed to be, or appeared to be, free)) deceive themselves, and under this deception take up proceedings that are neither good in themselves nor satisfactory to them (who are affected by it). From which there often results rebellions and the ruin of States.

But to return to our discussion, I conclude, both from this and from the judgment given to the Latins, when a City, powerful and accustomed to living free, is to be judged, it must be either destroyed or caressed, otherwise every judgment is vain; and above all the middle-way course ought to be avoided, which is pernicious, as it was to the Samnites when they had enveloped the Romans at the Caudine forks, and when they did not want to follow the advice of that old man who counselled them that they should allow the Romans to go honorably, or to kill them all; but by taking a middle way, disarming them and putting them under the yoke, they allowed them to go full of ignominy and anger. So that a little afterwards, to their harm, they realized how useful the sentence of that old man had been and how harmful was their decision, as will be discussed more fully in its place.

CHAPTER XXIV

FORTRESSES ARE GENERALLY MORE HARMFUL THAN USEFUL

It may perhaps appear to these sages of our times as something not well considered, that the Romans in wanting to assure themselves of the people of Latium and of the City of Privernum, did not think of building some fortresses there, which would be a restraint to hold them faithful; especially as there was a saying in Florence alleged by our wise men, that Pisa and other similar Cities ought to be held by fortresses. And truly, if the Romans had been like them, they would have thought to build them: but as they were of another virtu, of another judgment, of another power, they did not build them. And so long as Rome lived free and followed her institutions and virtuous constitutions, they never built one to hold either a City or a province, but they did save some that had already been built. Whence seeing the mode of proceeding of the Romans in this regard, and that of the Princes in our times, it appears to me proper to put into consideration whether it is good to build fortresses, or whether they are harmful Or useful to him who builds them. It ought to be considered, therefore, whether fortresses are built for defending oneself from the enemy or to defend oneself form one’s subjects.

In the first case they are not necessary, in the second harmful. And I will begin by giving the reason why in the second case they are harmful, I say that that Prince or that Republic which is afraid of its subjects and of their rebelling, it results first from the fact that that fear arises from the hate which the subjects have for them, and the hate they have of the treatment given them. The ill treatment results either from the belief of being able to hold them by force, or from the little prudence of those who govern them; and one of the things that makes them believe they are able to force them, is to have their fortresses near them: for the ill treatment that is the cause of hatred, arises in good part because of that Prince or that Republic have the fortresses, which ((if this is true)) are much more harmful by far than useful: For firstly ((as has been said)) they cause you to be more audacious and more violent toward your subjects: afterwards there is not that internal security of which you persuade yourself, as all the strength and violence that is employed in holding a people are nothing, except these two: either you have always to place a good army in the field, as the Romans had, or you must disperse them, extinguish them, disorganize them, and so destroy them that they are not able to come together to attack you; for if you impoverish them, the despoiled ones will win their arms: if you disarm them, fury will serve as arms: if you kill the Captains and continue to injure the others, the Heads will spring up as those of the Hydra: if you build fortresses, they are useful in times of peace because they give you more courage to do evil to them, but in times of war most useless because they will be assaulted by the enemy and by your subjects, nor is it possible that they can resist the one and the other. And if ever they were useless, they are now in our times on account of artillery, because of which the small places, where moreover you cannot retire behind earthworks, are impossible to defend, as we discussed above.

I want to discuss this manner more tritely. Either you, a Prince, want to keep the people of the City in restraint with these fortresses, or you, a Prince or a Republic, want to keep a City in restraint that has been occupied in war. I want to turn to the Prince, and I say to him that such fortresses cannot be more useless to him in holding his Citizens in restraint for the reasons given above, for it makes you more prompt and less regardful in oppressing them, and that oppression will expose you to your ruin and will excite them so, that that fortress which is the reason for it cannot afterwards defend you; so that a wise and good Prince, in order to keep himself good and not give cause to his sons to dare to become bad, will never build fortresses, so that they will rely, not upon the fortresses, but on the good will of men. And if Count Francesco Sforza who had become Duke of Milan was reputed wise and none the less built fortresses in Milan, I say that in this case he was not wise, and the result has shown that that fortress was harmful and not a security to his heirs: for judging that through the medium of it to live securely, and to be able to oppress their Citizens and subjects, they indulged in all kinds of violence, so that they became so hated as described above, that they lost the State as soon as the enemy assaulted them: nor did that fortress defend them, nor did they have any usefulness for them in war, and in peace had done them much harm: for if they had not had them, and if because of little prudence they had not treated their Citizens harshly, they would have discovered the peril more quickly, and would have retreated, and would then have been able to resist the impetus of the French more courageously with friendly subjects and without a fortress, than with hostile subjects, and with the fortress, which do you no good in any way, for either they (fortresses) are lost through the treachery of those who guard them, or because of the violence of those who assault it, or by famine.

And if you want them to do you any good and to help you in recovering a lost State, where only the fortress remains to you, it behooves you to have an army with which you can assault those who have driven you out; and if you have the army you would recover the State in any case, (and) even more (easily) if the fortress did not exist, and so much more easily as men would be more friendly than they were to you, for you had maltreated them because of the pride of having the fortress. And from experience it has been seen that this fortress of Milan was of no usefulness either to the Sforza or to the French in times of adversity for the one or the other; rather it brought much harm and ruin to both, not having given thought because of it to more honest means of holding that State. Guidobaldo Duke of Urbino, son of Frederick, who is his time was an esteemed Captain, was driven out of his State by Cesare Borgia, son of Pope Alexander VI; when afterwards because of an incident that had arisen he returned there, he caused all the fortresses that existed in that province to be destroyed, judging them to be injurious. For he being beloved by men, did not need them on their account, and with regard to his enemies, he had seen that he could not defend them; as they needed an army in the field to defend them, he resolved to destroy them. Pope Julius, after having driven out the Bentivogli from Bologna, built a fortress in that City, and afterwards had those people assassinated by one his Governors: so that that people rebelled, and the Pope quickly lost the fortress; and thus the fortress did him no good, but injury, and the more so, that by conducting himself otherwise it could have done him good. Niccolo Da Costello, father of the Vitelli, returning to his country when he had been exiled, quickly razed two fortresses that Pope Sixtus IV had built, judging that the good will people, not the fortresses, would keep him in that State. But of all the other examples, the most recent and the most notable in every way, and apt to show the uselessness of building them and the usefulness of destroying them, is that of Genoa which ensued in the most recent time. Everyone knows that in MDVII (1507) Genoa rebelled against Louis XII, King of France, who had come in person with all his forces to recover it, and having recovered it, he had a fortress built stronger than all others known up to the present time; it was impregnable because of its location and other circumstances, being placed on the apex of a hill that extended into the sea, called Codefa by the Genoese, and by means of this he commanded all the port and great part of the town of Genoa. Afterwards in the year MDVII (1512) it happened that the French forces were driven out of Italy, Genoa rebelled notwithstanding the fortress, and Ottaviano Fregoso seized the State, who, after sixteen months and with every industry, captured it by starvation. And everyone believed, and many counselled him, that he should preserve it as a refuge in any event: but being a most prudent man, (and) knowing that the good will of men and not fortresses maintained Princes in their States, destroyed it. And thus without founding his State on the fortress, but on his virtu and prudence, he has held it and still holds it. And where before only a thousand infantry usually were enough to overturn the State of Genoa, his adversaries have assaulted him with ten thousand and have not been able to harm him. It will be seen from this, therefore, that the destruction of the fortress did no more harm Ottaviano, than the building of it protected the King of France. For when he was able to come into Italy with his army, he was able to recover Genoa without the fortress being there; but without the army he could not come into Genoa even though he had a fortress there. For him, therefore, it was an expense to do (build) it and a disgrace to lose it: To Ottaviano the recovery of it was glorious and the destruction of it useful.

But let us come to the Republics which build fortresses, not within their own country, but inside the towns they acquire. And if the example given of France and Genoa are not enough to demonstrate the fallacy of this, those of Florence and Pisa will be enough for me; for the Florentines build fortresses in order to hold that City, and did not understand that to hold a City which was always hostile to Florentine rule, had lived in freedom, and had resorted to rebellion as a refuge for liberty, it was necessary in wanting to observe the old Roman method, either to make her an associate or to destroy her: for the virtu of fortresses is seen in the coming of King Charles, to whom they all surrendered, either through the treachery of those who guarded it, or from fear of a greater evil: for if there had not been one, the Florentines never would have based their holding Pisa on it, and the King (of France) could never in that manner have deprived the Florentines of that City: and the means by which they had maintained it up to that time would perhaps have been sufficient to preserve it, and without doubt would have stood the test better than the fortress.

I conclude, therefore, that to hold one’s own country a fortress is injurious and to hold towns that are acquired fortresses are useless: And I want the authority of the Romans to be enough (for me), who razed the walls of those towns which they wanted to hold, having taken them by violent means, and never rebuilt them. And if anyone should cite in opposition to this opinion that (example) of Tarantum in ancient times and of Brescia in modern times, both of which places were recovered from their rebellious subjects by means of fortresses, I reply, that for the recovery of Tarantum Fabius Maximus was sent at the beginning of the year with the entire army, who would have been more apt to have recovered it if there had not been a fortress: for although Fabius had used that means, if there had not been this means (fortress), he would have used other means which would have had the same result. And I do not know of what usefulness a fortress may be, if in the recovery of a town, a consular army with Fabius Maximus for its Captain is needed to recover it: And that the Romans would have recovered it in any event, is seen by the example of Capua where there was no fortress, and which they reacquired through the virtu of the army. But let us come to Brescia. I say that there rarely occurs that which occurred in that rebellion, that while the fortress remains in your power ((the town having revolted)) you should have a large army (and) nearby as was that of the French: for Monsignor De Foix, Captain of the King, being with his army at Bologna and learning of the loss of Brescia recovered the town by means of the fortress. The fortress of Brescia, therefore, ((in order to be of benefit)) also needed a Monsignor De Foix, and a French army which had to succor it in three days: Hence this example in contrast to opposite examples is not enough, for many fortresses have been taken and retaken in wars of our times, by the same fortune as field campaigns (have taken and retaken), not only in Lombardy, but also in the Romagna, in the Kingdom of Naples, and throughout all parts of Italy.

But as to building fortresses in order to defend oneself from external enemies, I say that they are not necessary to those people, or to those Kingdoms that have good armies, and are useless to those who do not have good armies: for good armies without fortresses are sufficient to defend themselves, and fortresses without good armies cannot defend you. And this is seen from the experience of those who are held to be excellent as governors and in other things, as was the case with the Romans and the Spartans; for if the Romans did not build fortresses, the Spartans not only abstained from building them, but even did not permit the City to have walls, because they wanted (to rely on) the personal virtu of their men to defend them, (and) not some other means of defense. When, therefore, a Spartan was asked by an Athenian whether the walls of Athens appeared beautiful to him, he replied “yes, if the (City) was inhabited by women”.

The Prince, therefore, who has good armies, may have on the frontiers of his State, or on the sea, some fortresses that could resist the enemy for some days until he could be checked; this may sometimes be a useful thing, but is not a necessary one. But when the Prince does not have a good army, then having fortresses throughout his State or at the frontiers, are either injurious or useless to him: injurious, because he loses them easily, and when they have been lost they are turned (make war) against him; or even if they should be so strong that that enemy cannot occupy them, they are left behind by the enemy army, and are of no benefit; for good armies, unless they are confronted by equally brave ones, enter into enemy country regardless of the City or fortress which they leave behind, as is seen in ancient histories; and as Francesco Maria did, who in recent times, in order to assault Urbino, left ten enemy Cities behind him, without taking any account of them. That Prince, therefore, who can raise a good army, can do without building fortresses: He who does not have a good army, ought not to build. He ought indeed to fortify the City where he lives, and keep it fortified, and keep the Citizens of that City well disposed, in order to be able to sustain an enemy attack so that he can (keep it) free by an accord or by external aid. All other plans are an expense in times of peace, and useless in times of war. And thus whoever considers all that I have said, will recognize the Romans as wise in all their other institutions, as they were prudent in their judgments concerning the Latins and the Privernati, where, not thinking of fortresses, they assured themselves of these people by wiser and more virtuous means.

CHAPTER XXV

THAT THE ASSAULTING OF A DISUNITED CITY IN ORDER TO OCCUPY IT BY MEANS OF ITS DISUNION IS AN ERROR

There was so much disunity within the Roman Republic between the Plebs and the Nobility that the Veienti together with the Etruscans ((through the medium of such disunion)) thought they could extinguish the name of Rome. And having raised an army and made incursions upon the fields of Rome, the Senate sent Gnaius Manilus and M. Fabius against them, (and) when they had led their army near the army of the Veienti, the Veienti did not cease both with assaults and insults to attack and abuse the Roman name; and so great was their temerity and insolence that, from being disunited the Romans became united, and coming to battle they defeated and routed them. It will be seen, therefore, how much men deceive themselves ((as we discussed above)) in adopting some course, and how many times they believe they can gain a thing and lose it. The Veienti believed that by assaulting the Romans when they were disunited, they could defeat them, but that assault was the cause of the unification of them (the Romans) and of their (the Veienti) ruin. For the cause of disunity in Republics most of the times is due to idleness and peace; the cause of unity is fear and war. And, therefore, if the Veienti had been wise, the more disunited they saw the Romans, the more they would have kept war away from them, and sought to oppress them by the arts of peace. The way to do this is to gain the confidence of the people of that City which is disunited, and to manage to become arbiters between the parties, as long as they did not come to arms. But if they come to arms, to give light aid to the weaker party, as much to keep up the war longer and make them consume themselves, as well not to make them wholly apprehensive because of your large forces that you should want to oppress them and become their Prince. And if this part is well carried out it will always almost happen that you will obtain the object which you had presupposed. The City of Pistoia ((as I have said in other discussions and on other matters)) did not come to the Republic of Florence with other arts than this; for she being divided, and the Florentines favoring first the one party, and then the other, without caring for either, brought her to such terms that, weary of her tumultuous existence, she came to throw herself spontaneously into the arms of Florence. The City of Siena has never changed her State with the help of the Florentines unless that help has been weak and small. For when it has been strong and large, they caused that City to become united in defense of the existing government. I want to add another example to those written above. Filippo Visconti, Duke of Milan, often made war against the Florentines, relying on their disunity, and always was the loser. So that he had to say, lamenting his enterprise, that the follies of the Florentines had made him spend two millions in gold uselessly.

The Veienti and the Tuscans, therefore, ((as was said above)) were deceived by this opinion, and were in the end defeated by the Romans in one engagement. And thus in the future anyone who believes he can subjugate a people in a similar manner and for similar reasons will be deceived.

CHAPTER XXVI

CONTEMPT AND INSULT GENERATE HATRED AGAINST THOSE WHO EMPLOY THEM, WITHOUT ANY USEFULNESS TO THEM

I believe that it is one of the great signs of prudence which men exhibit in abstaining from threatening and injuring anyone with words, for neither the one and the other takes away strength from the enemy; but the one makes him more cautious, and the other causes him to have greater hatred against you, and with more industry to think of injuring you. This is seen from the example of the Veienti of whom discussion was had in the above chapter, who added the opprobrium of words to the injury of war against the Romans, from which every prudent Captain ought to make his soldiers abstain, as they are things which inflame and excite the enemy to revenge, and in no way impede him ((as has been said)) in attacking you, so that they are all as arms turned against you. A notable example of which occurred in Asia, where Gabades, Captain of the Persians, having for a long time besieged Amida, and becoming weary of the siege, decided to depart, and having already broken up his camp, all the inhabitants of the town came upon the walls; and having become haughty from (the thought) of victory, did not omit assailing them with every kind of injury, vituperating them, accusing and reproaching them for their cowardice and poltroonery. Irritated by this, Gabades changed his counsel and returned to the siege, and so great was his indignation at this injury, that in a few days he took and sacked it. And the same thing happened to the Veienti, to whom ((as has been said)) it was not enough to make war against the Romans, but they also had to vituperate them with words, and went up to the very stockade of their camp to speak their insults, irritating them more with words than with arms: and those soldiers who at first fought unwillingly, constrained the Consuls to enkindle the battle, so that the Veienti suffered the punishment for their contumacy as was mentioned previously. Good Princes (Leaders) of the army and good Governors of a Republic, therefore, have to take every convenient means that these injuries and reproaches are not used either by their Citizens or their army, either among themselves or against the enemy, for then there arises those inconveniences mentioned above; and among themselves, it would be even worse unless they are stopped, as prudent men have always stopped them. The Roman legions left at Capua having conspired against the Capuans, as will be narrated in its proper place, and this conspiracy having given rise to sedition, which was later quelled by Valerius Corvinus, among the other stipulations of the convention that was made, was that they ordained the greatest penalties against those who should ever reprove any of those soldiers with that sedition. Tiberius Gracchus, who in the war against Hannibal, was made Captain over a certain number of slaves whom the Romans had armed because of the scarcity of men, ordered among the first things that the capital penalty (be inflicted) on whoever should reproach any of them with their (previous) servitude. So much did the Romans think this was a harmful thing ((as has been said above)) to treat men with contempt and reproach them with any disgrace, because there is nothing that so excites their spirit and generates greater indignation, that whether true or false, it is said: For harsh statements, even when they have the least truth in them, leave their harshness in the memory.

CHAPTER XXVII

TO PRUDENT PRINCES AND REPUBLICS, IT OUGHT TO BE ENOUGH TO WIN, FOR OFTEN IT IS NOT ENOUGH IF THEY LOSE

The use of dishonorable words against an enemy arises most of the times from the insolence that victory, or the false hope of victory, gives you; which false hope makes men err not only in their words, but also in their deeds. For when this (false) hope enters the hearts of men, it makes them go beyond the mark, and often lose that opportunity of obtaining a certain good, hoping to obtain an uncertain better. And because this is a matter that merits consideration, this deception that exists in men and very often causing damage to their State, it appears to me it ought to be demonstrated in detail by ancient and modern examples, as it cannot be so clearly demonstrated by arguments. After Hannibal and defeated the Romans at Cannae, he sent his ambassadors to the Carthaginians to announce the victory and request their support. This was discussed in the Senate as to what should be done. Hanno, an old and prudent Carthaginian Citizen advised that they should use this victory wisely in making peace with the Romans, for, having won, they were able to do so with more favorable conditions than they would expect (to make them) after a defeat; for the intentions of the Carthaginians ought to be to show the Romans that it was enough for them in combatting them, to have obtained a victory for themselves and not to seek to lose it in the hope of a greater one. This proceeding was not taken, but later when the opportunity was lost, it was well recognized by the Carthaginian Senate to have been a wise one. After Alexander the Great had already conquered all the Orient, the Republic of Tyre ((noble and powerful in those times for having their City situated on water like the Venetians)), seeing the greatness of Alexander, sent ambassadors to tell him they wanted to be his good servants and to render him that obedience he wanted, but that they were not ready to accept him or his forces in their land. Whereupon Alexander, indignant that a City should close those doors that all the world had opened to him, rebuffed them, and, not accepting their conditions, went to besiege them. The town was situated in water and very well supplied with provisions and the other munitions necessary for defense, so that Alexander saw after four months (of siege) that taking the City would take away more time and glory from him that many other acquisitions had not taken away, decided to try for an accord and concede to them that which they themselves had asked. But those people of Tyre having become haughty, not only did not want to accept the accord, but killed whoever came to present it. At which Alexander being indignant, he exerted himself with so much strength to its extinction that he took and destroyed it, and killed or made slave its people. In the year 1502 a Spanish army came into the Florentine dominion to reinstate the Medici in Florence and to tax the City, they being called there by its Citizens who had given them hope that, as soon as they had entered the Florentine dominion, they would take up arms in their favor; and having entered the plain and not discovering anyone, and having a scarcity of provisions, they attempted an accord: which the people of Florence, having become haughty, did not accept; when there resulted the loss of Prato and the ruin of that State (Florence). Princes who are attacked cannot make a greater error, therefore, especially when the assault is made by men who are far more powerful than they, than to refuse any accord, and especially when it is offered; for it would never be offered so harshly that it will not be in some way good for those who accept it, and they will in a way have obtained a part of the victory. For it should have been enough for the people of Tyre that Alexander had accepted those conditions which he at first refused, and it should have been a great enough victory for them that they had with arms in hand made so great a man condescend to their will. It should also have been enough for the Florentine people, and it would have been a great victory for them, if the Spanish army had yielded in something to their will, and not fulfill all things of theirs, for the intention of that army was to change the State in Florence, to take it away from its attachment to, France, and extract money from it. If of the three things, they (Spaniards) should have obtained the last two, and there should have remained to the (Florentine) people the first, that of saving their State, there would have remained within each one some honor and satisfaction and the people ought not to have cared for the other two things, as long as they existed free; nor ought they ((even if they should have seen a greater and almost certain victory)) to have wanted to put any part of it (their liberty) to the discretion of fortune, as this was their last resource, which no prudent man would ever risk except from necessity.

Hannibal departed from Italy where he had been for sixteen glorious years, recalled by the Carthaginians to succor his own country; he found Hasdrubal and Syphax broken, the Kingdom of Numida lost, Carthage restricted between the confines of its walls, and no other refuge remaining but he and his army: and knowing that this was the last resource of his country, he did not want to place it in jeopardy without first having tried every other remedy, and was not ashamed to ask for peace, judging that if his country had any remedy, it was in it (peace) and not in war; which afterwards having been refused, he did not hesitate to combat ((and to be defeated)), judging he might have (a chance to) win, or if he lost, to lose gloriously. And if Hannibal who had so much virtu and had his army intact, sought peace first rather than a battle, when he saw that losing it his country would be enslaved, what ought someone else with less virtu and less experience than he do? But men make this error of not knowing where to place the limits to their hopes, and by relying on these without otherwise measuring their resources, they are ruined.

CHAPTER XXVIII

HOW DANGEROUS IT IS FOR A PRINCE OR A REPUBLIC, NOT TO AVENGE AN INJURY MADE AGAINST THE PUBLIC OR A PRIVATE (CITIZEN)

That which indignation makes men do, is easily recognized as that which happened to the Romans when they sent the three Fabii as ambassadors to the Gauls who had come to assault Tuscany, and Clusium in particular. For the people of Clusium having sent to Rome for aid, the Romans sent Ambassadors to the Gauls that in the name of the Roman people they should signify to them to abstain from making war against the Tuscans: These ambassadors, being more accustomed to act than to speak, having arrived there as the Gauls and Tuscans were engaged in battle, put themselves among the first in combatting against them: Whence there arose that, being recognized by them (the Gauls), all the indignation that they had against the Tuscans turned against the Romans. This indignation became greater, because the Gauls having complained to the Roman Senate through their Ambassadors of this injury, and asked that in satisfaction for the harm done that the three above-mentioned Fabii should be turned over to them; not only were they not delivered to them or in any way castigated, but when the Comitii assembled, they were made Tribunes with consular powers. So that the Gauls seeing those men honored who ought to have been punished, took it all to be to their disparagement and ignominy, and, excited by anger and indignation, went to assault Rome, and captured it all except the Campidoglio (Capitol). This ruin to the Romans resulted only from their own non-observance of justice, for their Ambassadors having sinned against the law of nations, instead of being castigated were honored.

It is to be considered, therefore, how much every Republic and every Prince ought to be careful in making a similar injury, not only against an entire people, but even to an individual. For if a man is greatly offended either by the public or by a private citizen, and is not avenged according to his satisfaction, if he lives in a Republic he will seek to avenge himself even with their ruin, if he lives under a Prince and has any courage within himself, he will never remain quiet until in some way he should have revenged himself against him, even though he may see in it his own ruin. To verify this, there is no better or truer example than that of Philip of Macedonia, father of Alexander. This man had in his court Pausanias, a beautiful and noble youth, of whom Attalus, one of the chief men close to Philip was enamored; and having several times sought that he should consent (to his desires), but finding him opposed to such things, decided to obtain by deceit and force that which he was unable to obtain by other means. And he gave a grand banquet at which Pausanias and many other noble Barons were gathered; after each one was full of viands and wine, he caused Pausanias to be seized, and brought to a retired place; and he not only gave vent to his libido by force, but also to shame him still more, caused him to be abused in a similar fashion by many others. Pausanias complained of this injury many times to Philip, who for a time kept him in the hope of avenging him, but not only did he not avenge him, but promoted Attalus to the governship of a Province of Greece: Whence Pausanias seeing his enemy honored and not castigated, turned all his indignation not against him who had injured him, but against Phillip who had not avenged him; and one morning during the solemn nuptial of the daughter of Phillip to Alexander of Epirus, while Phillip was going to the Temple to celebrate them, between the two Alexanders, his son and son-in-law, he (Pausanias) killed him. Which example is very similar to that of the Romans, should be noted by anyone who governs, that he ought never to underestimate a man so as to believe ((adding injury on injury)) that he whom he has injured does not think of avenging himself, even with every danger and injury to himself.

CHAPTER XXIX

FORTUNE BLINDS THE MINDS OF MEN WHEN SHE DOES NOT WANT THEM TO OPPOSE HER DESIGNS

If we consider well how human affairs proceed, many times many events will be seen to arise and accidents happen against which the Heavens have not entirely desired that they should be provided. And if this of which I speak happened at Rome where there was so much virtu, so much religion, and so much order, it is no wonder that it should happen much more often in a City or a Province which lacks the above mentioned attributes. And as this case in point is most remarkable in demonstrating the power of Heaven over human affairs, T. Livius relates it at length and in the most effective language, saying that Heaven, wanting some means to have the Romans know its power, first made those Fabii err who had gone as ambassadors to the Gauls, and through whose deeds excited them to make war against Rome: Afterward it ordained that, to reprimand them for that war, nothing should be done in Rome worthy of the Roman people, having first ordained that Camillus, who alone could be the remedy for so much evil, was sent into exile at Ardea; afterwards when the Gauls were approaching Rome, those people who had many times before created a Dictator in order to check the attacks of the Volscians and other neighboring enemies, did not create one when the Gauls came. Also they were slow and without extraordinary diligence in making their selection of soldiers, and were so slow in taking up arms, that only with great effort were they in time to meet the Gauls on the river Allia, ten miles distant from Rome. Here the Tribunes established their camp without any of the customary diligence, without first examining the place, not circumscribing it with ditches and palisades, and not using any human or divine remedy. And in the order of battle, they made the ranks open and weak, so that neither the soldiers nor the Captains did anything worthy of the Roman discipline. They fought them without any bloodshed, for they fled before they had been assaulted; and the greater part went off to Veii, the remainder retreated to Rome, where they entered the Capitol without entering even their own homes; so that the Senate with no thought of defending Rome ((any more than the others)) did not close its gates, (and) a part of them fled, another part entered the Capitol with the others. In defending it (the Capitol), however, they did employ some non-tumultuous methods, for they did not burden it with useless people, they supplied it with all the grain they could so as to be able to endure a siege, and of the useless crowd of old men and women and children, the greater part fled to the surrounding towns, the rest remained in Rome a prey to the Gauls. So that whoever had read of the things done by that people so many years before, and then should read of the events of those times, could in no way believe that it was the same people. And T. Livius who had told us of all the above mentioned troubles, concludes by saying: Fortune thus blinds the minds, when she does not want them to resist her power.

Nor can this conclusion be more true. Whence men who ordinarily live in great adversity or prosperity merit less praise or less blame, for most of the time it will be seen that they have been brought to ruin or to greatness by some great expedient which Heaven has caused, giving them the opportunity or depriving them of the ability to work with virtu. Fortune indeed does this, when she wants to bring some great things, she selects a man of much spirit and much virtu, that he will recognize those opportunities she offers. So too in the same way, when she wants to bring some great ruin, she promotes men who can do such ruin. And if anyone should be able to resist her, she either kills him or deprives him of all the faculties of being able to do any good. From this text it is to be clearly recognized how fortune, in order to make Rome greater and bring her to that greatness that she arrived at, judged it was necessary to beat her ((as will be discussed at length in the beginning of the next book)) but did not want to ruin her entirely. And because of this, it is seen that she caused Camillus to be exiled and not killed, caused Rome to be taken but not the Capitol, ordained that the Romans should not think of any good thing in preparing Rome (for the attack), but should not lack any good preparation for the defense of the Capitol. She caused ((as Rome was to be taken)) that the greater part of the soldiers who were defeated at the Allia to go to Veii, and thus cut off all means for the defense of the City of Rome. And yet in ordaining this, she prepared everything for her recovery, having conducted an entire Roman army to Veii, and Camillus to Ardea, in order to be able to raise a large band under a Captain unstained by any ignominy of defeat and completely dedicated to the recovery of his country.

We might cite some modern example in confirmation of the things mentioned here, but as I judge it unnecessary, ((this one being able to satisfy anyone)) I shall omit it. I indeed reaffirm this to be most true ((according as is seen from all histories)) that men can second fortune but not oppose her, they can develop her designs but not defeat them. They ought never to abandon themselves; because not knowing her aims, (and) the devious and unknown ways she takes, they always have hope; and in hoping, not to abandon themselves no matter in what (ill) fortune or trouble they find themselves.

CHAPTER XXX

TRULY POWERFUL REPUBLICS AND PRINCES DO NOT PURCHASE FRIENDSHIP WITH MONEY, BUT WITH VIRTU AND REPUTATION OF STRENGTH

The Romans were besieged in the Capitol, and although they awaited succor from Veii and from Camillus, being driven by hunger, they came to terms with the Gauls to ransom themselves with a certain amount of gold, but while making these terms ((the gold already being weighed)) Camillus arrived with his army, which fortune caused ((as the historian says)) so that the Romans should not live under an aura of ransom. Which occurrence not only is more noteworthy in this instance, but more so in the course of events of this Republic, where it is seen that they never acquired lands by means of money, but always through the virtu of their army. Which I do not believe ever to have happened with any other Republic.

And among the other signs by which the power of a State is recognized, is to see how it lives with its neighbors; and if it is governed in a way that the neighbors ((so as to have them friendly)) are its pensioners, then it is a certain sign that that State is powerful: But when these said neighbors ((although inferior to it)) draw money from it, then it is a great sign of its weakness. Let anyone read all the Roman histories and he will see that the Massalians, the Aeduans, the Rhodians, Hiero the Syracusan, Eumene and the Kings of Massinissa, who all lived near to the confines of the Roman Empire, in order to have its friendship, agreed to contribute to its needs and expenses by tribute, not seeking any other return from it than to be defended. On the other hand, it will be seen in weak States, and beginning with our own Florence in times past in the period of her greatest reputation, that there was not a petty Lord in the Romagna who did not get a pension from her, and in addition she gave one to the Perugini, the Castellani, and all her other neighbors. But if this City had been armed and strong, everything would have proceeded oppositely, for everyone in order to have her protection would have given money to her, and sought, not to sell their friendship, but to purchase hers. Nor are the Florentines to be seen alone in this baseness, but the Venetians and the King of France, who with so great a Kingdom lives tributary to the Swiss and the King of England. All of which resulted from having disarmed their people, and because that King and the others mentioned above desired rather to enjoy a present usefulness of being able to plunder the people, and to avoid an imaginary rather than a real peril, than to do things which would have assured them and made their States happy in perpetuity. Such baseness, if it sometimes produces some quiet, is in times of necessity the cause of irreparable harm and ruin.

And it would be lengthy to recount how many times the Florentines, and the Venetians, and this Kingdom (of France) have bought themselves off in wars, and how many times they subjected themselves to an ignominy to which the Romans were subjected only one time. It would be lengthy to recount how many lands the Florentines and the Venetians have purchased, in which disorders were seen afterwards, and that the things acquired with gold cannot be defended with iron. The Romans continued in this high-minded existence as long as they lived free, but when they came under the Emperors, and the Emperors commenced to be bad, and to love the shade more than the sun, they too begun to buy off now the Parthians, now the Germans, now other neighboring peoples, which was the beginning of the ruin of so great an Empire. Such troubles proceeded, therefore, from having disarmed its own people, from which an even greater evil results, that the more the enemy comes near, so much more will he find you weak. For whoever lives in the manner mentioned above, ill treats those subjects who are in the interior of his Empire so as to obtain men who can hold the enemy at the frontiers. From this there arises that to keep the enemy more distant he has to give subsidies to these Lords and peoples who are near their borders. Whence there arises that these States so paid make a little resistance at their frontiers, but as soon as the enemy has passed, they do not have any advantage. And they do not see that this mode of proceeding of theirs is against every good institution. For the heart and the vital parts of the body have to be kept armored, and not its extremities, for without these it is possible to live, but when the former are injured, it is possible to die: And these States have their hearts unarmored but their hands and feet armored. The disorders which have been caused to Florence have been seen, and can be seen, every day, that as soon as an army passes the frontiers and enters near the heart, no further remedy is to be found. In the last few years the Venetians afforded similar proof, and if their City had not been surrounded by water, their end would have been seen. This experience has not often been seen in France because that Kingdom is so great that it has few enemies who are superior. None the less, when the English in MDXIII (1513) assaulted that Kingdom, all that Province trembled, and the King himself and everyone else believed that only one defeat would take away the State.

The contrary happened to the Romans, for the more the enemy approached Rome, so much more he found that City powerful to resist him. And it is seen in the coming of Hannibal into Italy, that after three defeats and after so many captains and soldiers were killed, they were able not only to sustain the enemy, but to win the war. All of which resulted from her having the heart well armored and holding little account of the extremities. For the foundation of their State was in the people of Rome, the Latin people, and the other lands allied in Italy, and their Colonies, from which they drew so many soldiers sufficient for then to conquer and hold the world. And that this is true is seen from the question that Hanno the Carthaginian put to those Ambassadors of Hannibal after the battle at Cannae, who having magnified the things done by Hannibal, were asked by Hanno if anyone had come from the Roman people to ask for peace, and if any towns of the Latins or any of the Colonies had rebelled against the Romans: and when they replied negatively, Hanno replied; This war is yet as full as before.

It will be seen therefore, both from this discussion and from what we have said elsewhere several times, how much difference there is in the proceedings of present Republics from the ancient ones. Because of this every day are seen astonishing losses and remarkable conquest, for where men have little virtu, fortune greatly shows her power, and as she varies it, Republics and States change often, and they will always change until there springs up one who is a great lover of antiquity who is able to rule so that she has no reason at every revolution of the sun to show how powerful she can be.

CHAPTER XXXI

HOW DANGEROUS IT IS TO BELIEVE EXILES

And it does not appear to me to be foreign to this subject to discuss among other matters how dangerous a thing it is to believe those who have been driven out of their country, these being matters that are acted upon each day by those who govern States; and I am especially able to demonstrate this by a memorable example given by T. Livius in his history, even though it may be outside his subject. When Alexander the Great crossed with his army into Asia, Alexander of Epirus, his brother-in-law and uncle, came with his forces into Italy, having been called there by the exiled Lucanians, who had given him the hope that he could through their means occupy all that province. Whence he, upon their faith and hope, having come into Italy, was killed by them, because they had been promised a return to their Country by the Citizens if they would kill him. It ought to be considered, therefore, how vain are the faith and promises of those who find themselves deprived of their country. For, as to their faith, it has to be borne in mind that anytime they can return to their country by other means than yours, they will leave you and look to the other, notwithstanding whatever promises they had made you. As to their vain hopes and promises, such is the extreme desire in them to return home, that they naturally believe many things that are false and add many others by art, so that between those they believe and those they say they believe, they fill you with hope, so that relying on them you will incur expenses in vain, or you undertake an enterprise in which you ruin yourself. The previously mentioned example of Alexander is enough for me, but in addition, that of Themistocles, the Athenian, who, having been declared a rebel, fled to Darius in Asia, where he promised him so much if he should want to assault Greece, that Darius turned to that enterprise. Themistocles, not being able to observe these promises, he poisoned himself, either from shame or from fear of punishment. And if this error was made by Themistocles, a most excellent man, it ought to be considered how much more those men err who, because of less virtu, allow themselves to be drawn by their desires and passions. A Prince, therefore, ought to go slowly in undertaking an enterprise upon the representations of an exile, for most of the times he will be left either with shame or very grave injury. And as the taking of towns rarely succeeds by deceit or by intelligence others within may have, it does not appear outside the subject to discuss it in the following chapter, adding some account of how many ways the Romans acquired them.

CHAPTER XXXII

IN HOW MANY WAYS THE ROMANS OCCUPIED TOWNS

The Romans being very often at war, they always did so with every advantage, both as to expense and as to every other thing that it required. From this arose the fact that they guarded against the taking of towns by siege, as they judged this method to be of such an expense and so much trouble that it surpassed by far any usefulness that they could draw from the acquisition: and because of this they thought that it would be better and more useful to subjugate a town by any other means than besieging it: whence there are very few examples of sieges made by them in so many wars and in so many years. Their mode of taking Cities, therefore, was either by assault or by voluntary surrender. The capture by assault was either by force or by open violence, or by force mixed with fraud: the open violence was either by assault without piercing the walls ((which they called attacking the city in crown fashion)) because they surrounded the City with the entire army, as when Scipio took New Carthage in Spain; or if this assault was not enough they addressed themselves to breeching the walls with rams or with other machines of war of theirs; or they made a mine and by means of it entered the City, by which method they took the City from the Veienti: or in order to be at the same level with those who defended the walls, they made towers of wood: or they made embankments of earth placed against the outside of the walls in order to come to a height above them. In the first case those who were defending the towns against these assaults were exposed to the greatest peril quickly from being assaulted on all sides and had the greatest doubts of being able to remedy this, because they needed to have many defenders in every place, (and) those they had were not numerous enough to be able to substitute for or relieve those in every place, or if they were able to do so, they were not all of equal courage to resist; and if the fight was lost on any one side, all the rest were lost. It happened, therefore, ((as I have said)) that this mode (of assault) many times was a happy success. But if it did not succeed at the first (try), they did not repeat it much, as it was a dangerous method for the army, for defending themselves over so much space, everything was left weak so as to be unable to resist a sortie that those inside might make, and also it would fatigue the soldiers and cause disorder: so that they attempted this method only one time and by surprise. As to the breaking down of walls, it was opposed as in the present time by repairs; and to resist the mines they made counter mines, and through which they opposed the enemy either with arms or other means, among which was this that they filled barrels with feathers which they set on fire while burning they put them into the mine, so that the smoke and the smell impeded the entrance to the enemy: and if they assaulted them with towers, they endeavored to ruin them by fire. And as to earth embankments, they broke the wall down where the embankment leaned against it, drawing inside the earth which those outside were heaping, so that placing earth outside and taking it away from inside, the embankment did not grow. These means of attack cannot be attempted for long, and (if not successful) the siege must be abandoned and other means sought to win the war, as did Scipio, when he entered Attica, having assaulted Utica and not succeeding in taking it, he betook himself from the field and sought to break the Carthaginian army, or rather to turn to (regular) sieges as he did at Veii, Capua, Carthage, Jerusalem, and similar towns which they occupied by sieges.

As to the acquisition of towns by stealth and violence, ((as happened at Palepolis, where the Romans occupied it by treating secretly with those within)) this kind of conquest was tried by the Romans and many others, but few succeeded: the reason is, that every least impediment disrupts the design, and impediments come easily. For the conspiracy is discovered before the deed happens, which is done without much difficulty, as much from the treachery of those to whom it is communicated, as from the difficulty of carrying it out, having to come together with enemies or under some pretext with those with whom it is not permitted to speak. But if the conspiracy is not discovered in its progress, then thousand difficulties spring up in putting it into execution. For if you arrive before the designated time or if you arrive after, everything is spoiled. If a furtive noise is raised, as the geese at the Capitol, if a customary order is broken, every least least error and every least fault made, will ruin the enterprise. Added to this is the darkness of the night which puts more fear into those who are engaged in those dangerous things. And the greater part of men who are engaged in similar enterprises being unacquainted with the situation of the country or the places where they are sent, are confounded, become afraid, and will turn back at every least unforeseen accident. And every false imagining acts to make them put themselves in flight. Nor has anyone ever been found who was more successful in these fraudulent and nocturnal expeditions than Aratus of Sicyon, who was as valiant in these as he was pusillanimous in expeditions carried out openly and in daylight. Which can be attributed rather to some occult virtu which he possessed, than to any natural faculty in achieving success. Of these attempts, many are projected, few are put to the test, and very few succeed.

As to the acquisition of Towns through surrender, they give up either voluntarily, or by force. The willingness arises either from some extrinsic necessity that constrains them to find refuge under you, as did Capua to the Romans, or from the desire to be well governed, being attracted by the good government which that Prince bestows on those who have voluntarily placed themselves in his arms, as were the Rhodians, the Massileans, and other such Citizens, who gave themselves to the Roman People. As to forced surrenders, this force results either from a long siege ((as was said above)), or from a continuous pressure from incursions, depredations, and other ill treatment; which in wanting to avoid, a City surrenders. Of all the methods mentioned, the Romans employed this last more than any others, and during more than four hundred and fifty years of harassing their neighbors with routs and incursions, and then by means of accords obtained reputation over them, as we have discussed at another time. And they always relied on this method, even though they tried all others, which they found more dangerous or useless. For in a siege it is the length of time and expense; in open assault it is doubtful and dangerous; in a conspiracy it is uncertitude. And they (the Romans) saw that by one rout of an enemy army they acquired a Kingdom in a day, but in taking an obstinate City by siege, they consumed many.

CHAPTER XXXIII

HOW THE ROMANS GAVE THEIR CAPTAINS OF ARMIES UNCONTROLLED COMMISSIONS

I think that ((reading this history of Livius and wanting to profit)) all the methods of procedure of the Roman People and Senate should be considered. And among other things that merit consideration, is to see with what authority they sent out their Consuls, Dictators, and other Captains of armies; from which it is seen that the authority was very great, as the Senate did not reserve to itself anything other than the authority to declare new wars, to confirm peace (treaties), and left everything else to the arbitration power of the Consul. For once a war was decided on by the People and the Senate ((for instance against the Latins)) they remitted all the rest to the discretion of the Consul, who could either make an engagement or not make it, and lay siege to this or that town as seemed proper to him. Which things are verified by many examples, and especially by that which occurred in the expedition against the Tuscans. For Fabius, the Consul, having defeated them near Sutrium, and planning afterwards to pass with the army through the Ciminian forest and go to Tuscany, not only did not counsel with the Senate, but did not even give them any notice, even though war was to be waged in a new unknown, and dangerous country. Further witness of this is given by the decisions which were made by the Senate on learning of this, who, when they had heard of the victory Fabius had won, and fearful that he might take up the proceeding of passing through the said forest into Tuscany, judging that it would not be well to attempt that (war) and run that risk, sent Legates to Fabius to make him understand he should not cross into Tuscany; but when they arrived he had already crossed over, and had obtained this victory, so that in place of being impeders of the war, they returned as messengers of the conquest and the glory that was obtained.

And whoever considers well this method will see it is most prudently employed, for if the Senate had wanted the Consul to proceed in the war from hand to hand according to that which they committed to him, they would have made him (Fabius) less circumspect and more slow; for it would not have seemed to him that the glory of the battle should be all his, but as being shared by the Senate, by whose counsels he had been governed. In addition to this the Senate would have obligated itself to want to advise on a matter that they could not have understood; for notwithstanding that there many of them who were men most expert in war, none the less not being in that place, and not knowing the infinite particulars that are necessary to be known to want to counsel well, infinite errors ((by counselling)) would have been made. And because of this, they wanted the Consul to make decisions by himself and that the glory should be all his, the love of which they judged should be a restraint as well as a rule in making him conduct himself well.

This part is more willingly noted by me, because I see that the Republics of present times, as the Venetian and the Florentine, have understood it otherwise, and if their Captains, Providers, or Commissioners have to place (a battery of) artillery, they want to know and counsel about it. Which system merits the same praise as (their conduct) in other things merit, which all together have brought about the conditions that are found at present.

THIRD BOOK

CHAPTER I

TO WANT THAT A SECT OR A REPUBLIC EXIST FOR LONG, IT IS NECESSARY TO RETURN THEM OFTEN TO THEIR PRINCIPLES

It is a most true thing that all the things of the world have to have an ending to their existence. But these only run the entire course that is generally ordained by Heaven, which does not disorganize their body, but keeps it so organized that it is not changed, or if it is changed, it is for its welfare and not its injury. And as I speak here of mixed bodies, as are Republics and (Religious) Sects, I say that those changes are for the better which bring them back to their (original) principles. And, therefore, those are better organized and have a longer existence, which through their own means are able frequently to renew themselves, or which through some accident outside the said organization come to that renewal. And it is something clearer than light, that these bodies which do not renew themselves, do not endure. The means of renewing them ((as has been said)), is to bring them back to their (original) principles. For all the principles of Sects and Republics and of Kingdoms must have within themselves some goodness, by means of which they obtain their first reputation and first expansion. And as in the process of time that goodness becomes corrupted, of necessity it will kill the body, unless something intervenes to bring it back to the sign (normality). And Doctors of medicine say ((speaking of the bodies of men)): Every day something is gathered, and when it is ill, it must be cured.

This turning back to principles ((speaking of Republics)) is caused either by an extrinsic accident or by an intrinsic prudence. As to the first, it is seen how necessary it was that Rome should be taken by the Gauls to want to be reborn, and being reborn should resume a new life and a new virtu, and should resume the observance of Religion and Justice, which were beginning to blemish themselves in her. This is very well known from the history of Livius, where he shows that in calling out the army against the Gauls, and in creating the Tribunes with Consular power, they did not observe any religious ceremony. Thus in the same way they not only did not deprive the Fabii (of their rank), who, contrary to the law of nations, had fought against the Gauls, but created them Tribunes. And it ought easily to be presupposed that they had begun to hold in less account those good institutions established by Romulus and those other prudent Princes, than what was reasonable and necessary to keep their liberty. This blow from the outside had to come, therefore, so that all the institutions of that City should be resumed, and that it should be shown to those people that it was not only necessary to maintain Religion and Justice, but also to esteem their good Citizens, and to take more account of their virtu than of that convenience which, because of their work, seemed to be lacking to them. Which is seen succeeded entirely, for as soon as Rome was retaken they renewed all the institutions of their ancient Religion, punished the Fabii who had fought against the law of nations, and then esteemed highly the virtu and goodness of Camillus that the Senate and the others put aside all envy, placing again on him all the burden of this Republic.

It is necessary, therefore, ((as has been said)) that men who live together in some kind of organization, often know each other either by these external incidents, or by internal ones. And as to these latter, it happens that they arise either from a law which often reviews the conduct of the men who are in that body, or truly by some good man who arises amongst them, who by his example and his deeds of virtu causes the same effect as that institution. This good then springs up in Republics either from the virtu of one man or from the virtu of one institution. As to the latter, the institutions that returned the Roman Republic back to its (original) principles was the Tribunes of the Plebs, and all the other laws that curbed the ambitions and insolence of men. Which institutions have need to be kept alive by the virtu of one Citizen who will courageously take part in their execution against the power of those who transgress them.

The most notable examples of such execution of the laws, before the taking of Rome by the Gauls, were the death of the sons of Brutus, the death of the ten Citizens (Decemvirs), and that of Melius, the grain dealer; and after the taking of Rome were the death of Manlius Capitolinus, the death of the son of Manlius Torquatus, the punishment inflicted by Papirius Cursor on Fabius, his Master of Cavalry, and the accusation of Scipio. As these were the extreme and most notable examples, each time one arose, it caused the people to turn back to their principles; and when they began to be more rare, they begun also to give men more latitude in becoming corrupt, and the carrying out of the laws was done with more danger and more tumults. So that from one such execution to another, no more than ten years should elapse, for beyond this time men begin to change their customs and transgress the laws; and unless something arises which recalls the punishment to their memory, and revives the fear in their minds, so many delinquents will soon come together that they cannot any longer be punished without danger.

In connection with this subject, those who governed the State of Florence, from the year one thousand four hundred thirty four (1434) until the year one thousand four hundred ninety four (1494) said that it was necessary to resume the government every five years, otherwise it would be difficult to maintain it: and they called “the resuming of the government” to put the same fear and terror in men as they had done in the assuming of it, having in that time punished those who ((according to that mode of living)) had conducted themselves badly. But as the memory of that punishment fades, men become bold to try new things and speak ill of it (the government), and therefore it is necessary to provide against this, by bringing (the government) back to its original principles. This return of Republics back to their principles also results from the simple virtu of one man, without depending on any law that excites him to any execution: none the less, they are of such influence and example that good men desire to imitate him, and the wicked are ashamed to lead a life contrary to those examples. Those particularly, who in Rome produced these good results, were Horatius Codes, Scaevola, Fabricus, the two Decii, Regulus Attilius, and some others, who by their rare examples of virtu produced almost the same effect in Rome that laws and institutions would have done. And if the above executions, together with these particular examples had been followed at least every ten years in that City, it would have followed of necessity that it would never have been corrupt: but as they caused both these things to become rare, corruption began to multiply, for, after Marcus Regulus, no similar example is seen: and although the two Cato’s had sprung up in Rome, so great was the interval between him (Regulus) and them, and between the one and the other (Cato), and they were so isolated instances, that they could not effect any good work by their good examples. And especially the later Cato, who, finding the City in good part corrupt, was not able by his example to make the Citizens become better. And this is enough as regards Republics.

But as to the Sects, such renewal is also seen to be necessary by the examples of our religion, which, if it had not been brought back to its principles by Saint Francis and Saint Dominic, would have been entirely extinguished: for by their poverty and by their example of the life of Christ, brought it back to the minds of men where it had already been extinguished; and their new orders were so powerful, that they were the reason why the dishonesty of Prelates and the Heads of the Religion did not ruin her; they yet continue to live in poverty and have so much credit with the people through confessions and preachings, that they were able to make them understand that it was evil to speak evil of the bad, and that it was good to live rendering them obedience, and if they had made errors to leave their punishment to God. And thus these bad (rulers) do as much evil as they can, because they do not fear that punishment they do not see or believe. This renewal (of Saint Francis and Saint Dominic) therefore has maintained and still maintains this Religion. Kingdoms also have need to renew themselves and bring their laws back to first principles. And it is seen how much good resulted from such a renewal in the Kingdom of France, which Kingdom exists under laws and ordinances more than any other Kingdom. The Parliaments are the maintainers of these laws and ordinances, and especially that of Paris; (and) these are renewed by them at any time by an execution against a Prince of that Kingdom, and at times even by condemning the King in some of his decisions. And up to now it has maintained itself because it has been an obstinate executor against that nobility: but if at any time they should allow some (disorder) to go on with impunity, and which would then come to be multiplied, and without doubt there would result either that the (evildoers) would be corrected with (accompanying) great disorders, or that the Kingdom itself would be dissolved.

I conclude, therefore, that there is nothing more necessary in a community of men, either as a Sect, or Kingdom, or Republic, than to restore it to that reputation that it had at its beginning, and to endeavor to obtain either good ordinances or good men to bring about such a result, and not to have an extrinsic force do it. For although some time this may be the best remedy, as it was at Rome, it is so dangerous that it is in no way desirable. But to show to anyone how much the actions of some men in particular had made Rome great and caused many good results in that City, I shall come to the narration and discussion of them, among the objects of which this third book and last part of the first Ten (Books) will be concluded. And although the actions of the Kings were great and notable, none the less, as history treats of them fully, we will leave them aside, nor otherwise speak of them, except where some of the things worked openly for their private advantage, and we shall begin with Brutus, the father of Roman liberty.

CHAPTER II

HOW AT TIMES IT IS A VERY WISE THING TO SIMULATE MADNESS

No one was ever so prudent, or was esteemed so wise for any singular deed of his, as Junius Brutus merited to be esteemed for his simulation of foolishness. And although Titus Livius did not mention but one reason that had induced him to such simulation, which was that he might be able to live in greater security and maintain his patrimony, none the less, considering his method of proceeding, it can be believed that he had simulated this also in order to be less observed and to have greater opportunity to attack the Kings, and liberate his country whenever he should be given the occasion. And that he should think of this, is seen, first, in his interpretation of the oracle of Apollo, when he simulated falling down to kiss the earth, judging by that to propitiate the Gods to his thoughts; and afterwards, when on the occasion of the death of Lucretia, in the midst of the father and husband and other relatives of hers, he was the first to draw the knife from the wound, and make all those around there swear that they should henceforth suffer no one to reign (as King) in Rome.

From this example, all who are discontent with a Prince have to learn that they first ought to weigh and measure their strength, and if they are so powerful that they can declare themselves his enemies and openly make war against him, they ought to employ this method that is less dangerous and more honorable. But if they are of a kind that their strength is not sufficient to make open war on him, they ought with all industry to seek to make him a friend, and to this purpose employ all the means they deem necessary, adopting his pleasures and taking delight in all those things that come to delight him. This intimacy will first enable you to live securely and without bringing on any danger, it makes you enjoy the good fortune of that Prince with him, and will afford you every convenience to satisfy your spirit (of resentment). It is true that some say that one should not keep so close to Princes that their ruin should encompass you, or so distant that if they are ruined, you should not be long in rising on their ruin; which middle course would be the truest if it could be preserved: but as I. believe that is impossible, it must come to the two methods mentioned above, that is, to get away from or come closer to them: who does otherwise, and is a man notable for his quality, lives in continuous danger. Nor is it enough for him to say, I do not care for anything, I do not desire honors or profit, I want to live quietly and without trouble, for these excuses are heard and not accepted: nor can men of such quality elect their own way of living, (and) if they could elect it truly and without ambition, they would not be believed: so that if they wanted to live in that manner, they would not be allowed to do so by others.

It is advantageous, therefore, to play the fool as Brutus did, and one is made to be very foolish by praising, talking, seeing and doing things contrary to your thinking, to please the Prince. And as I have not spoken of the prudence of this man in recovering the liberty of Rome, we will now speak of his severity in maintaining it.

CHAPTER III

HOW IT WAS NECESSARY, IN WANTING TO MAINTAIN THE NEWLY ACQUIRED LIBERTY, TO KILL THE SONS OF BRUTUS

The severity of Brutus was no less necessary than useful in maintaining that liberty in Rome which she had acquired; which is an example rare in all the record of history to see a father to sit in judgment, and not only condemn his sons to death, but to be present at their deaths. And this will always be known by those who read ancient history, that after a change of State, either from a Republic to a Tyranny, or from a Tyranny to a Republic, a memorable execution against the enemies of the existing conditions is necessary. And whoever restores liberty to a State and does not kill Brutus, and whoever restores liberty to a State and does not kill the sons of Brutus, maintains himself only a short time. And as this has been discussed at length in another place above, I refer to what has already been said there: I will cite only one memorable example which has occurred in our times and in our country. And this is that of Piero Soderini, who believed with his patience and goodness that he would be able to overcome that same determination that was in the sons of Brutus to return to another form of government, and he was deceived: And although because of his prudence he recognized this necessity, and that chance and their ambition which drove them, gave them the opportunity to destroy themselves, none the less his courage never allowed him to do it. For he thought, in addition to his belief of being able to dispel the bad disposition with patience and goodness, and to consume some of the enmity of someone by rewards ((and many times he had done so with faithful friends)) that to want boldly to drive out his opposition and beat down his adversaries, it would oblige him to assume extraordinary authority and legally destroy civil equality. Which thing ((even though it should not afterward be used tyrannically by him)) would have so terrified the general public, that after his death they would never again agree to reelect a Gonfalonier for life: which institution he judged was good for strengthening and maintaining the government. Which respect (for the laws) was wise and good: none the less one ought never to allow an evil to run on out of regard for a good, when that good could easily be suppressed by that evil: And he ought to bear in mind that his deeds and his intentions should have to be judged by the results ((if fortune and life would stay with him)), that he could certify to everyone that that which he had done was for the welfare of the country, and not from him ambition; and he could have regulated things in a way that a successor of his could not be able to do by evil means that which he had done for good. But the first opinion deceived him, not knowing that malignity is not subdued by time, nor placated by any gift. So that by not knowing how to imitate Brutus, he lost at the same time his country, his State, and his reputation.

And as it is a difficult thing to save a republic, so it is difficult to save a Monarchy, as will be shown in the following chapter.

CHAPTER IV

A PRINCE DOES NOT LIVE SECURELY IN A PRINCIPALITY WHILE THOSE WHO HAVE BEEN DESPOILED OF IT LIVE

The death of Tarquinius Priscus caused by the sons of Ancus, and the death of Servius Tullus caused by Tarquinius Superbus, shows how difficult and perilous it is to despoil one of a Kingdom, and leave him alive, even though he should seek to win him over to himself by benefits. And it will be seen how Tarquinius Priscus was deceived by the seemingly legal possession of that Kingdom, it having been given to him by the people and confirmed by the Senate. Nor could he believe that the sons of Ancus could have so much resentment that they would not be content with him (as ruler), of whom all Rome was content. And Servius Tullus deceived himself believing he could win over to himself the sons of Tarquin by new benefits. So that, as to the first, every Prince can be advised that he will never live securely in his Principality so long as those live who have been despoiled (of their possessions). As to the second, it should remind every potentate that old injuries were never cancelled by new benefits, and so much less if the new benefit is less that the injury inflicted. And without doubt Servius Tullus was little prudent to believe that the sons of Tarquinius would be content to be the sons-in-law of him, when they judged they ought to be the Kings. And this desire to reign is so great, that it not only enters the hearts of those who expect to inherit the Kingdom, but even to those who do not have such expectation: as existed in the wife of Tarquin the younger, daughter of Servius, who, moved by this rabidness, against every filial piety, set her husband against his father to take away his life and kingdom, so much more did the esteem to be a Queen than a daughter to a King. If, therefore, Tarquinius Priscus and Servius Tullus lost the kingdom by not knowing how to secure themselves from those whose (thrones) they had usurped, Tarquinius Superbus lost it by not observing the institution of the ancient Kings, as will be shown in the following chapter.

CHAPTER V

THAT WHICH MAKES A KING LOSE THE KINGDOM THAT WAS INHERITED BY HIM

Tarquinius Superbus having killed Servius Tullus, and the latter not leaving any heirs, he (Tarquinius) came to possess the kingdom with security, not having to fear those things which had harmed his predecessors. And although the manner of his occupying the kingdom was irregular and odious, none the less had he observed the ancient institutions of the other Kings, he would have been tolerated, and the Senate and Plebs would never have arisen against him and taken the State away from him. This man, therefore, was not driven out because of his son Sextus having violated Lucretia, but for having broken the laws and governed it (his Kingdom) tyrannically; having taken away all authority from the Senate and assumed it himself, and those funds which were marked for public improvements with which the Roman Senate was satisfied, he diverted to the building of his own palace, with disgust and envy for him resulting. So that in a very short time, he despoiled Rome of all that liberty which she had maintained under the other previous Kings. And it was not enough for him to make the Fathers (Senators) his enemies, but he aroused the Plebs against himself, working them hard in mechanical labor and all unlike those which his predecessors had employed. So that by having filled Rome with such cruel and haughty examples of his, he had already disposed the minds of all the Romans to rebellion whenever they should have the opportunity. And if the incident of Lucretia had not happened, even so another would have arisen which would have produced the same result: For if Tarquin had lived like the other Kings and his son Sextus had not made that error, Brutus and Collatinus would have had recourse to Tarquin for vengeance against Sextus, and to the Roman People.

Princes should understand, therefore, that they begin to lose the State from that hour when they begin to break the laws and ancient institutions under which men have lived for a long time. And if as private citizens, having lost the State, they should ever become so prudent to see with what facility Principalities are kept by those who are counselled wisely, they would regret their loss much more, and would condemn themselves to greater punishment than that to which others have condemned them: For it is much more easy to be loved by the good than the bad, and to obey the laws then to enforce them. And in wanting to learn the course that they should have to hold to do this, they do not have to endure any other hardship than to mirror for themselves the lives of good Princes, such as Timoleon the Corinthian, Aratus the Sicyonian, and similar ones, in the lives of whom they would find as much security and satisfaction to him who ruled as to he who is ruled; so that they ought to want to imitate him, being able to do so for the reasons mentioned: For men when they are well governed, do not seek or desire any other liberty; as happened to the people governed by the above named (Princes), whom they constrained to be Princes as long as they lived, even though they often had been tempted to return to private life.

And as in this and the two preceding chapters, there has been discussed the dispositions aroused against Princes, and of the Conspiracy made by the sons of Brutus against their country, and of those made against Tarquinius Priscus and Servius Tullus, it does not appear to me to be something outside this subject to speak at length of them in the following chapter, being a matter worthy of being noted by Princes and Private Citizens.

CHAPTER VI

OF CONSPIRACIES

And it does not appear proper to me to omit the discussion of Conspiracies, being a matter of so much danger to Princes and Private Citizens. For it is seen that many more Princes have lost their lives and States through them, than by open war. For it is conceded only to a few to be able to make open war against a Prince, but the ability to conspire against them is conceded to everyone. On the other hand, private citizens do not enter in an enterprise more perilous nor more foolhardy than this, as it is difficult and most dangerous in all of its parts. Whence it happens that many are attempted, and very few have the desired ending. So that, therefore, Princes may learn to guard themselves from these dangers, and that Private Citizens may less rashly engage in them, and rather may learn to live contentedly under the Rule that has been assigned to them by chance and by their state, I shall speak widely, not omitting any notable case, in documenting the one and the other. And truly that sentence of Cornelius Tacitus is golden, which says that men have to honor things past but obey the present, and ought to desire good Princes, but tolerate the ones they have. And truly, whoever does otherwise, most of the time will ruin himself and his country.

We ought, therefore, ((in entering on this matter)) to consider first against whom conspiracies are made, and we will find them to be made either against a country or against a Prince. It is of these two that I want us to discuss at present; for those which are made to give a town over to the enemy who besiege it, or that have some reason similar to this, have been talked about above sufficiently. And in this first part we shall treat of that against a Prince, and first we will examine the reasons for it, which are many, but there is one which is more important than all the others: and this is his being hated by the general public; for in the case of that Prince who has aroused this universal hatred, it is reasonable (to suppose) that there are some particular individuals who have been injured by him more (then others) and who desire to avenge themselves. This desire of theirs is increased by that universal ill disposition that they see is aroused against him. A Prince ought therefore to avoid these public charges, but I do not want to talk here ((having treated of this elsewhere)) of what he should do to avoid them. For by guarding himself against this (hatred), the simple offenses against particular individuals will make less war against him: One, because rarely is a man met who thinks so much of an injury that he will put himself in so much danger to avenge it: The other, even if they should be of a mind and power to do so, they are held back by that universal benevolence that they see the Prince to have. Injuries that happen to an individual are of Possessions (taking them from him), of Blood (physical injury), or of Honor. Of those of Blood, threats are most dangerous, and there is no peril in the execution, because he who is dead cannot think of vengeance, and those who remain alive most of the time leave such thoughts to the dead: but he who is threatened, and sees himself constrained by necessity either to act or to suffer, becomes a most dangerous man for the Prince, as we shall relate in detail in its place. Outside of this necessity, those (injuries) of Possession and Honor, are matters that harm men more than any other offense, and against which the Prince ought to guard himself, for he can never despoil one so much that he does not leave a mind obstinate to vengeance. And of (injuries) of honor, that are inflicted on men, that against their women is most important, and after that, insult to their person. This (kind of injury) armed Pausanias against Phillip of Macedonia: this has armed many others against many other Princes: and in our times, Julio Belanti would not have set in motion a conspiracy against Pandolfo, Tyrant of Siena, except that the latter had given him a daughter for his wife, and then took her away, as we will relate in its place. The major cause that made the Pazzi conspire against the Medici, was the inheritance of Giovanni Borromei, which was taken from the former by the latter.

There is another reason, and a very great one, which makes men conspire against a Prince, (and) that is the desire to liberate the country which has been occupied by him. This reason moved Brutus and Cassius against Caesar: this moved many others against the Falari, the Dionysii, and other occupiers of their countries. Nor can any Tyrant guard himself from this disposition, except by giving up the Tyrancy. And because none are found who will do this, few are found who do not come to an evil end; whence there arose this verse of Juvenal’s:

  Few kings descend to the family place of Ceres

  Without wounds and slaughter, and in this way tyrants die.

The dangers incurred in Conspiracies ((as I said above)) are great, being incurred at all times: for in such cases there is danger run in plotting it, in its execution, and after it has been executed. Those who conspire may be alone, or may be more than one. The one cannot be said to be a Conspiracy, but is a firm disposition rising in a man to kill the Prince. This alone, of the three dangers that Conspiracies run, lacks the first, because it does not carry any danger before the execution; since no others have his secret, there is no danger that his design will be carried to the ears of the Prince. Such a decision (plot) can be made by any man, of whatever sort, small or great, noble or ignoble, familiar or not, familiar with the Prince: for it is permitted to everyone at some time to talk to him, and to him who is permitted to talk it is allowed to give vent to his feelings. Pausanias, of whom was spoken at another place, killed Phillip of Macedonia who was going to the Temple surrounded by a thousand armed men, and between his son and son-in-law: but that man was a Noble and known to the Prince. A poor and abject Spaniard stabbed King Ferrando of Spain in the neck: the wound was not mortal, but from this it is seen that that man had the courage and opportunity to do it. A Turkish Dervish priest drew a scimitar on Bajazet, the father of the present Grand Turk: he did not wound him, but he too had the courage and the opportunity to have done it, if he wanted to. Of these spirits thusly constituted, I believe many could be found who would do such a thing ((as there is no danger or punishment in wanting to do so)) but few who do it. But of those who do, there are none or very few who are not killed in the deed.

But let us go from these plots by single individuals, and let us come to the Conspiracies formed by the many. I say that in history it is to be found that all the conspiracies were made by great men, or those most familiar with the Prince: for others, unless they are completely mad, are not able to conspire, that men of weak condition and not familiar with the Prince lack all that hope and opportunities that are needed for the execution of a conspiracy: First, weak men cannot be sure of the faith of accomplices, as no one will enter into their plot without having those hopes which cause men to expose themselves to great dangers, so that as (the conspirators) are increased to two or three persons, they find an accuser and ruin them: but even if they were so lucky that such an accuser would not be found, they are surrounded by such difficulties in the execution ((from not having an easy access to the Prince)) that it is impossible that they are not ruined in its execution. For if great men and those who have easy access are oppressed by those difficulties that will be described below, it will happen that to the others those difficulties will increase without end. Men, therefore, ((because where life and property are at stake, they are not all insane)) when they see themselves weak guard themselves from them; and when they have cause for harming a Prince, attend to vilifying him, and wait for those who are more powerful than they who will avenge them. And if it should ever be found that any such as these should have attempted such an undertaking, they should be lauded for their intentions and not their prudence.

It will be seen, therefore, that those who have conspired are all great men, or familiars of the Prince. Of the many who have conspired, as many were moved thusly by too many benefits as by too many injuries; as was that of Perennius against Commodus, Plautianus against Severus, and of Sejanus against Tiberius. All of these men were loaded by their Emperors with so many riches, honors, and dignities, that it seemed nothing was wanting to them for the perfection of their power other than the Empire, and not wanting to be lacking this, they set themselves to conspire against the Prince, but their conspiracies all had that ending which their ingratitude merited. Although one of these was seen in recent times to have had a good ending, that of Giacopo D’Appiano against Messer Piero Gambacorti, Prince of Pisa, this Giacopo had been raised and nourished and given reputation by him, afterwards took away his State. Of this kind, in our times, was that of Coppola against King Ferrando of Aragon; this Coppola had come to such greatness that it seemed he lacked nothing except the Kingdom, (and) in wanting this, however, he lost his life. And truly if any conspiracy made by great men against a Prince ought to have succeeded, it should have been this, as it was made by another King, so to speak, and one who had so great an opportunity to fulfil his desire: but that cupidity for domination which blinds them, also blinds them in the managing of their enterprise, for if they should know how to accomplish this evil with prudence, it would be impossible for them not to succeed. A Prince, therefore, who wants to guard himself from Conspiracies ought to fear more those men to whom he has given too many benefits, than those to whom he had caused too many injuries. For these latter lack the opportunity, the former abound in them; and the desire is the same, because the desire of dominating is as great or greater than is that of vengeance. They ought never, therefore, give so much authority to their friends, but that a distance should exist between them and the Principate, and that there should be something left (in the middle) for them to desire; otherwise it will be a rare occasion if it will not happen to them as to the above mentioned Princes.

But let us return to our subject. I say that they who conspire having to be great men and have easy access to the Prince, it remains to be discussed what successes there have been of their enterprises, and to see what were the causes which made them happy or unhappy. And ((as I have said above)) in all these conspiracies, there are to be found three dangerous periods of time; before, during, and after the fact. Few are found, however, which have had good endings, that it is almost impossible that all should have passed through (the first period) happily. And in beginning to discuss the dangers of the first period, which are the most important, I say that there is need to be very prudent and have great good fortune, that in conducting a conspiracy, it not be discovered (at this stage). And they are discovered either by (someone) telling or by conjecture. The telling results from finding little faith or little prudence in the men to whom you have communicated it: the little faith (treachery) is so commonly found, that you cannot communicate it (the conspiracy) except to your trusted ones who, for love of you, risk their own deaths, or to those men who are discontent with the Prince. Of such trusted ones, one or two may be found, but as you extend this, it is impossible that many will be found. Moreover, there is good need that the good will they bear you is so great that the plot does not appear to them greater than the danger and fear greater than the punishment: also most of the times men are deceived by the love they judge others have for them, nor can they ever be sure of this except from experience; and to have such experience in this is most dangerous: and even if you should have had experience in some other dangerous occasion, where they had been faithful to you, you can not by that faith measure this one, as this one surpasses by far all other kinds of danger. If you measure this faith from the discontent which a man has toward the Prince, you can be easily deceived in this: because as soon as you have opened your mind to that malcontent, you give him material to content himself, and to keep him faithful, his hate (for the Prince) must be very great or your authority (over him) must be greater. From this, it has followed that many (conspiracies) have been revealed and crushed in their very beginning, and that if one has been kept secret among many men for along time, it is held to be a miraculous thing; as was that of Piso against Nero, and in our times, that of the Pazzi against Lorenzo and Giuliano De’Medici, of which more than fifty thousand were cognizant, and which waited until its execution to be discovered.

As to being discovered because of little prudence, this occurs when a conspiracy is talked about with little caution, so that a servant or other third person learns of it, as happened to the sons of Brutus, who in arranging the plot with the legates of Tarquin were overheard by a slave who accused them; or when from thoughtlessness it comes to be communicated to a woman or a child whom you love, or to some similar indiscreet person, as did Dinnus, one of the conspirators with Philotas against Alexander the Great, who communicated the conspiracy to Nicomachus, a young boy loved by him, who quickly told it to his brother Ciballinus, and Ciballinus to the King. As to being discovered by conjecture, there is for an example the conspiracy of Piso against Nero, in which Scevinus, one of the conspirators, the day before he was to kill Nero, made his testament, ordered that Melichus his freedman should sharpen an old rusty dagger of his, freed all his slaves and gave them money, and caused bandages to be ordered for tying up wounds: by means of which conjectures, Melichus ascertained the plot, and accused him to Nero. Scevinus was taken, and with him Natales, another conspirator, with whom he had been seen talking the day before in secret and for a long time; and the reasons given (by each) not being in accord, they were forced to confess the truth, so that the Conspiracy was discovered to the ruin of all the conspirators. It is impossible to guard oneself from this cause of discovery of Conspiracies, as it will be discovered by the accomplices through malice, through imprudence, or through thoughtlessness, whenever they exceed three or four in number. And as soon as more than one is taken, it is impossible for it not to be discovered, for two cannot agree together in all their statements. If only one of them is taken who is a strong man, he can with his courage and firmness remain silent on (the names of) the conspirators; but then it behooves the other conspirators not to have less firmness and courage, and not to discover it by their flight, for if courage be wanting on any side, either by he who is arrested or he who is free, the conspiracy is discovered. And a rare example is cited by Titus Livius in the conspiracy formed against Hieronymus, King of Syracuse, where Theodorus, one of the conspirators taken, concealed with great virtu all the conspirators, and accused the friends of the King; and on the other hand, all the conspirators placed so much confidence in the virtu of Theodorus, that no one left Syracuse or gave any sign of fear. The conduct of a Conspiracy, therefore, passes through all these dangers before it comes to its execution; and in wanting to avoid these, there exist these remedies. The first and most certain, rather to say it better, the only one, is not to give the conspirators time to accuse you, and therefore to communicate the plot to them just at the time you are to do it, and not sooner: those who do thusly are likely to avoid the dangers that exist in the beginning, and most of the time, the others also; actually they have all had happy endings: and any prudent man will have the opportunity of governing himself in this manner.

It should suffice for me to cite two examples. Nelematus, not being able to endure the tyranny of Aristotimus, Tyrant of Epirus, assembled in his house many relatives and friends, and exhorted them to liberate their country; several of them requested time to discuss and arrange it, whereupon Nelematus made his slaves lock the house, and to those whom he had called he said, either you swear to go now and carry out the execution of this (plot), or I will give you all as prisoners to Aristotimus: moved by these words they swore, and going out without any (further) intermission of time, successfully carried out the plot of Nelematus. A Magian having by deceit occupied the kingdom of the Persians, and when Ortanus, one of the great men of the kingdom, had learned and discovered the fraud, he conferred with six other Princes of that State seeking how they were to avenge the kingdom from the Tyranny of that Magian. And when one of them asked as to the time, Darius, one of the six called by Ortanus, arose and said: Either we go now to carry out the execution of this, or I will go and accuse you all; and so by accord, without giving time to anyone to repent of it, they arose and easily executed their designs. Similar to these two examples also is the manner that the Aetolians employed in killing Nabis, the Spartan Tyrant; they sent Alexemenes, and enjoined the others that they should obey him in every and any thing, under pain of exile. This man went to Sparta, and did not communicate his commission until he wanted to discharge it, whence he succeeded in killing him. In this manner, therefore, these men avoided those dangers that are associated with the carrying out of conspiracies, and whoever imitates them will always escape them. And that anyone can do as they did, I want to cite the example of Piso referred to above. Piso was a very great and reputed man, and a familiar of Nero who confided in him much. Nero used to go often to his garden to dine with him. Piso could then have made friends for himself some men of mind, heart, and of disposition to undertake the execution of (such a plot), which is very easy for a great man to do; and when Nero should be in his garden, to communicate the matter to them, and with appropriate words animated them to do that which they would not have had time to refuse, and which would have been impossible not to succeed.

And thus, if all the other instances are examined, few will be found in which they (the conspirators) could not have been able to proceed in the same manner. But men, ordinarily little learned in the ways of the world, often make very great errors, and so much greater in those that are extraordinary, as is this (conspiracies). The matter ought, therefore, never to be communicated except under necessity and at its execution; and even then, if you have to communicate it, to communicate it to one man only with whom you have had a very long experience (of trust), or who is motivated by the same reason as you. To find one such is much more easy than to find many, and because of this, there is less danger: and then, even if he should deceive you, there is some remedy of defending yourself, than where there are many conspirators: for I have heard many prudent men say that it is possible to talk of everything with one man, for ((if you do not let yourself be led to write in your hand)) the yes of one man is worth as much as the no of another: and everyone ought to guard himself against writing as from a shoal, because there is nothing that will convict you more easily than your handwriting. Plautanias, wanting to have the Emperor Severus and his son Antoninus killed, committed the matter of the Tribune Saturninus; who wanting to accuse him and not obey him, and apprehensive that coming to the accusation, he (Plautanius) would be more believed than he (Saturninus), requested a copy in his handwriting so that he should have faith in this commission, which Plautanias, blinded by ambition, gave him: whence it ensued that he was accused by the Tribune and convicted; and without that copy and certain other countersigns, Plautanias would have won out, so boldly did he deny it. From the accusation of a single one, some remedy will be found, unless you are convicted by some writing or other countersigns, from which one ought to guard himself. In the Pisonian conspiracy there was a woman called Epicaris, who in the past had been a friend of Nero, who judged it to be advisable to place among the conspirators a Captain of some triremes whom Nero had as his guard; she committed the conspiracy to him, but not (the names of) the conspirators. Whence that the Captain breaking his faith and accusing her to Nero, but so great was the audacity of Epicaris in denying it, that Nero, remaining confused, did not condemn her.

There are two dangers, therefore, in communicating a plot to only one individual: the first, that he does not accuse you as a test: the other, that he does not accuse you, he being convicted and constrained by the punishment to do so: he being arrested because of some suspicion or some other indication on his part. But there is some remedy for both of these dangers; the first, being able to deny it, alleging the hate that the man had for you; and the other to deny it, alleging the force that had constrained him to tell lies. It is prudent, therefore, not to communicate the plot to anyone, but act according to those above mentioned examples; and even if you must communicate it, not to more than one, for while there is some danger in that, it is much less than in communicating it to many.

Next to this, there may be a necessity which constrains you to do to that Prince what you see the Prince would want to do to you, (and) which is so great that it does not give you time to think of your own safety. This necessity almost always brings the matter to the desired ending, and to prove it, I have two examples which should suffice. The Emperor Commodus had among his best friends and familiars Letus and Electus, Heads of the Praetorian soldiers, and had Marcia among his favorite concubines and friends: and as he was sometimes reproached by these (three) for the way he stained his personal (dignity) and that of the Empire, decided to have them killed, and wrote the names of Marcia, Letus and Electus, and several others on a list of those whom he wanted killed the following night, and he placed this list under the pillow of his bed: and having gone to bathe, a favorite child of his playing in the room and on the bed found this list, and going out with it in his hand met Marcia who took it from him; and when she read it and saw its contents, she quickly sent for Letus and Electus, and when all three recognized the danger they were in, they decided to forestall it, and without losing time, the following night they killed Commodus. The Emperor Antoninus Caracalla was with his armies in Mesopotamia, and had for his prefect Macrinus, a man more fit for civil than military matters: and as it happens that bad Princes always fear that others will inflict on them that (punishment) which it appears to them they merit, Antoninus wrote to Maternianus his friend in Rome that he learn from the Astrologers if there was anyone who was aspiring to the Empire and to advise him of it. Whence Maternianus wrote back to him that Macrinus was he who aspired to it, and the letter came first into the hands of Macrinus than of the Emperor; and because of this the necessity was recognized either to kill him before a new letter should arrive from Rome, or to die, he committed to his trusted friend, the Centurion Martialis, whose brother had been killed by Antoninus a few days before, that he should kill him, which was executed by him successfully. It is seen therefore, that this necessity which does not give time produces almost the same effect as the means employed by Nelematus of Epirus described by me above. That of which I spoke of almost at the beginning of this discourse is also seen, that threats injure a Prince more, and are the cause of more efficacious Conspiracies than the injury itself; from which a Prince ought to guard himself; for men have to be either caressed or made sure of, and never reduced to conditions in which they believe they need either to kill others or be killed themselves.

As to the dangers that are run in its execution, these result either from changing the orders, or from the lack of courage of those who should execute it, or from an error that the executor makes from little prudence, or from not perfecting the plot leaving some of them alive who had been planned to be killed. I say, therefore, that there is nothing that causes disturbance or impediment to all the actions of men as much as when in an instant and without having time, to have to change an order, and to change it from the one that had been ordered first: and if this change causes disorder in anything, it does so especially in matters of war and matter similar to those of which we are speaking; for in such actions there is nothing so necessary to do as much as firming the minds of men to execute the part assigned to them: and if men have their minds turned for many days to a certain matter and certain order, and that be quickly changed, it is impossible that all be not disturbed, and everything not ruined; so that it is much better to execute a plot according to the order given ((even though some inconvenience is to be seen)) than to want to cancel it to enter into a thousand inconveniences. This happens when one has no time to reorganize oneself, for when there is time, men can govern themselves in their own way.

The Conspiracy of the Pazzi against Lorenzo and Giuliano De’Medici is well known. The arrangement made was that they were to dine at the Cardinal of San Giorgio’s, and at that dinner to kill them (the Medici): in which place there were distributed those who were to seize the palace, and those who were to overrun the City and call the people to liberty. It happened that while the Pazzi, the Medici, and the Cardinal were at the solemn office in the Cathedral Church in Florence, it was learned that Giuliano was not dining that morning, which caused the conspirators to gather together, and that which they had to do in the house of Medici, they decided to do in the Church: which caused the disturbance of all the arrangements, as Giovanbattista da Montesecco did not want to consent to the homicide, saying he did not want to do it in the Church: so that they had to change to new members for every action who, not having time to firm up their minds, made such errors, that they were crushed in the execution.

The spirit is sometimes lacking to those who should execute (a plot) either from reverence of from the innate goodwill of the executor. So great is the majesty and reverence which surrounds the presence of a Prince, that it is an easy matter for it either to mitigate (the will of) or terrify an executor. To Marius ((having been taken by the Minturnians)) was sent a slave who was to kill him, (but) who was so terrified by the presence of that man and by the memory of his fame, that he became cowardly, and lost all courage to kill him. And if this power exists in a man bound and a prisoner, and overwhelmed by bad fortune, how much more is it to be feared from a Prince free, with the majesty of ornaments, of pomp, and of his court: so that this pomp can terrify you, and that grateful welcome can humiliate you.

Some subjects conspired against Sitalces, King of Thracia; they fixed the day of its execution, they came to the appointed place where the Prince was, but none of them would move to attack him, so that they departed without having attempted anything, and without knowing what had impeded them, and they blamed one another. They fell into this error several times, so that the conspiracy was discovered, and they suffered the punishment for that evil which they could have committed, but would not.

Two brothers of Alfonso, Duke of Ferrara, conspired against him, and they employed as the executioner (of their plot) Giannes, Priest and Cantor of the Duke, who several times at their request had brought the Duke to them, so that they would have occasion to kill him: None the less, none of them ever dared to do it, so that it was discovered, and they bore the penalty of their wickedness and little prudence. This neglect of taking advantage of the opportunity resulted either from his presence dismaying them or from some humane act by the Prince humbling them. The failures that arise in such executions arise either from the error of little prudence or little courage; for when one or the other of these things invades you, and carried by that confusion of the brain, you are made to say and do that which you ought not.

And that men’s minds are thus invaded and confounded, Titus Livius cannot demonstrate better then when he writes of Alexemenes, the Aetolian, who ((when he wanted to kill Nabis, the Spartan, of which we talked about above)), when the time came for the execution (of his design), discovered to his men what had to be done, Titus Livius speaks these words: He collected his own spirits, which were confused seeing the greatness of the undertakings. For it is impossible that anyone ((even though he be of firm spirit and accustomed to the use of the sword and the killing of men)) be not confused. Hence only men experienced in such affairs ought to be selected, and none other be trusted, even though he held to be most courageous. For the certainty of anyone’s courage cannot be promised without having had experience. Such confusion, therefore, can either make the arms fall from your hand, or make you say things that will have the same result.

Lucilla, the sister of Commodus, ordered Quintianus to kill him. This man awaited Commodus at the entrance of the amphitheatre, and encountering him, with drawn dagger, shouted, The Senate sends you this: which words caused him to be seized before he had lowered his arm to wound him. Messer Antonio Da Volterra deputed ((as is mentioned above)) to kill Lorenzo De’Medici, in meeting him said, Ah traitor!, which word was the saving of Lorenzo and the ruin of the Conspiracy.

When the conspiracy is against only one Head, success of the affair cannot be obtained, for the reasons mentioned: but success is obtained even less easily when the conspiracy is against two Heads; actually, it is so difficult that it is almost impossible that it succeed: for to undertake the same action at the same time in different places is almost impossible, as it cannot be done at different times without one spoiling the other: so that conspiring against one Prince is a doubtful, dangerous and little prudent thing; to conspire against two is entirely vain and foolhardy. And if it were not for the respect I have of history, I would never believe that that would be possible which Herodianus says to Plautianus, when he commissioned Saturninus, the Certurian, that he alone should kill Severus and Antoninus (Caracalla) living in different places; for it is so far from reasonableness, that other than this authority would not have me believe it. Certain young Athenians conspired against Diodes and Hippias, Tyrants of Athens. They killed Diodes, but Hippias who remained avenged him. Chion and Leonidas, of Heraclea, and disciples of Plato, conspired against the Tyrants Clearchus and Satirus: they killed Clearchus, but Satirus who remained alive avenged him. The Pazzi, mentioned by us many times, did not succeed in killing anyone except Giuliano; so that everyone ought to abstain from such Conspiracies against several Heads, for they do no good to yourself, nor the country, nor anyone: rather those (tyrants) who remain become more harsh and unendurable, as Florence, Athens, and Heraclea know, as I have stated above. It is true that the conspiracy that Pelopidas made to deliver his country, Thebes, (from the Tyrants) faced all the difficulties: none the less it had a most happy ending; for Pelopidas not only conspired against two Tyrants, but against ten: not only was he not a confidant and did not have easy access to the Tyrants, but he was also a rebel: none the less he was able to come to Thebes, kill the Tyrants, and free the country. Yet, none the less, he did all with the aid of one Charon, counsellor or the Tyrants, through whom he had an easy access to the execution of his (plot). Let no one, none the less, take this as an example; for, as that enterprise was almost impossible, and a marvelous thing to succeed, (and) so regarded by the writers, who commemorate it as something rare and unprecedented. Such execution can be interrupted by a false alarm or by an unforeseen accident that arises in its doing.

The morning that Brutus and the other conspirators wanted to kill Caesar, it happened that he (Caesar) talked at length with Gn. Popilius Lena, one of the conspirators, and the others seeing this long talk were apprehensive that the said Popilius might reveal the conspiracy to Caesar. They were tempted to kill Caesar here, and not wait until he should be in the Senate: and they would have done so except that the discussion ended, and as it was seen that Caesar did not do anything extraordinary, they were reassured. These false alarms are to be regarded and considered with prudence, and so much more as they come about easily, for he who had his conscience blemished, readily believes that (everyone) talks of him. It is possible to hear a word spoken by another so that it will make your mind disturbed, and to believe that it has reference to you, and causes you either to discover the Conspiracy by flight, or to confuse the action by accelerating it before its time. And this will happen much more readily, when there are many who know of the Conspiracy.

As to accidents ((because they are unforeseen)) they cannot be demonstrated except by examples which should serve to make men cautious. Julio Belanti of Siena ((of whom we have made mention above)), because of the anger he had against Pandolfo, who had taken his daughter from him before he had given her to him as a wife, decided to kill him, and chose the time. Almost every day Pandolfo went to visit an infirm relative, and on his way passed by the house of Julio. That man, therefore, having observed this, arranged to have his conspirators in the house so arranged as to kill Pandolfo when he passed; and putting them, armed, behind the door, and kept one at the window who should give a sign when Pandolfo was near the door. It happened that Pandolfo came, that man gave the sign, but he (Pandolfo) met a friend who stopped him, while some who were with him went on ahead, and seeing and hearing the noise of arms discovered the ambush, so that Pandolfo was saved, and Julio with his companions had to flee from Sienna. That accident of that meeting impeded that action and caused Julio’s enterprise to be ruined. Against which accidents ((as they are rare)) no remedy can be made. It is very necessary to examine all those things that can happen and remedy them.

It remains now only to discuss the dangers that occur after the execution (of a plot); of which there is only one, and this is when someone is left who will avenge the slain Prince. There may remain, then, his brothers, or his sons, or other adherents who expect (to inherit) the Principality; and they can be left either because of your negligence, or for the reasons mentioned above, and who would undertake this vengeance; as happened to Giovan Andrea Da Lampognano, who, together with his conspirators, had killed the Duke of Milan, who left a son and two brothers, who in time avenged the dead man. And truly in these cases, the conspirators are to be excused, for they had no remedy: but when some are left alive because of little prudence or from negligence, they (the conspirators) do not merit to be excused. Some conspirators from Furli killed the Count Girolamo, their Lord, and took his wife and children, who were little: and as it appeared to them they could not live securely unless they had made themselves lords of the fortress; but as the castellan did not want to give it up to them, Madonna Caterina ((as the Countess was called)) promised the conspirators that, if they allowed her to enter it, she would have it consigned to them, and that they might retain her children with them as hostages. Under this pledge, these men allowed her to enter, but she, as soon as she was inside the walls, reproached them for the death of her husband, and threatened them with every kind of vengeance: and to show that she did not care for her children, she showed them her genital member, saying that she had the means of making more. Thus those men (conspirators), short of counsel and having too late seen their error, suffered the penalty of their too little prudence by a perpetual exile. But of all the perils that can happen after the execution (of a plot), there is none more certain and which is to be feared more than when the people are friends of the Prince whom you have killed; for against this the conspirators do not have any remedy and against which they can never be secure. As an example, there is Caesar, who, by having the people or Rome friendly, was avenged by them; for having driven the conspirators out of Rome, they were the cause that they were all killed at various times and in various places.

Conspiracies that are made against the Country are less perilous for those who plan them, than are those made against Princes; for in plotting them there are less dangers than in the other, in the execution of them they (dangers) are the same, and after the execution there is none. In plotting it there are not many dangers, for a citizen can aspire to power without manifesting his mind and designs to anyone: and if those aspirations of his are not interfered with, his enterprise will turn out happily; or if they are interfered with by some law, he can wait a time and attempt it by another way. This is understood in a Republic which is partly corrupted; for in an uncorrupted one ((there not being any bad principles there)) these thoughts cannot occur in its citizens. The citizens, therefore, through many ways and means can aspire to the Principality where they do not run the dangers of being crushed: as much because Republics are slower than a Prince, and are less apprehensive, and because of this are less cautious; as well as because they have more respect for their Great citizens, and because of this are more audacious and courageous in conspiracy against them.

Everyone has read of the Conspiracy of Cataline written by Sallust, and knows that after the Conspiracy was discovered Cataline not only stayed in Rome, but came into the Senate, and mouthed villainies at the Senate and the Consul, so great was the respect which that City had for its citizens. And when he had departed from Rome, and was already with the army, Lentulus and the others would not have been taken, except that they had letters in their handwriting which accused them manifestly. Hanno, a very great citizen in Carthage, aspiring to the Tyrancy, had arranged to poison all the Senate during the nuptials of a daughter, and afterwards make himself Prince. When this was learned, nothing was done in the Senate than to pass a law which placed a limit to the expenses of banquets and nuptials, so great was the respect they had for his kind.

It is indeed true that in the execution of a Conspiracy against one’s Country there are more difficulties and greater perils; for it is rare that your own forces of the conspiracy are sufficient against so many, and not everyone is Prince of an army, as were Caesar, or Agathocies, or Cleomenes, and the like, who, through force, quickly occupied their Country; for to such men the way is sure and easy, but others who do not have the support of force must accomplish their purpose either through deceit and cunning, or by foreign forces.

As to deceit and cunning, Pisistratus, the Athenian, having overcome the Megarians and, because of this, had acquired good will among the people (of Athens); one morning he went outside wounded, saying that the Nobility had injured him from envy, and demanded that he be able to keep armed men with him as his guard. From this authority, he easily rose to such power, that he became Tyrant of Athens. Pandolfo Petrucci returned with other exiles to Sienna, and he was assigned the guard of the government plaza, as a mechanical (secondary) matter and which others had refused: none the less those armed men in time gave him such reputation, that in a little time he became Prince. Many others have employed other means and perseverance, and in a (short) space of time and without peril have succeeded. Those who have conspired to occupy their country with their own forces or with foreign armies, have had various success, according to their fortune. Cataline, mentioned before above, was ruined. Hanno ((of whom we made mention above)) not having succeeded with poison, armed many thousand (persons) of his partisans, and both he and they were killed. Some of the first citizens of Thebes, in order to make themselves Tyrants, called a Spartan army to their aid, and seized the Tyrancy of that City. So that examining all the Conspiracies against the Country, none or few will be found, which were crushed in their plotting; but all either met with success or failure in their execution. Once they are executed, they do not bring other dangers than those which the nature of the Principality in itself bring: for once one has become a Tyrant, he has his natural and ordinary perils which befall a Tyranny, against which there are no other remedies than those which have been discussed above.

This is as much as has occurred to me to write of Conspiracies, and if I have discussed those only where the sword was used and not poison, it is because both result in the same effect. It is true that those using poison are more dangerous because they are more uncertain; for everyone does not have the opportunity (of employing this means), and it must be reserved for the one who does have, and this necessity of reserving it for some makes it dangerous. Further, for many reasons, a drink of poison need not be fatal, as happened with those who killed Commodus; here, he having thrown up the poison which they had given him, they were forced to strangle him in order to kill him.

Princes, therefore, have no greater enemy than a conspiracy; for, once a conspiracy is made against him, it either kills or defames him. For if the conspiracy succeeds, he dies; if it is discovered and he kills the conspirators, it will always be believed that it was an invention of that Prince to give vent to his cruelty and avarice against the blood and possessions of those whom he has killed. I do not want, therefore, to omit advising that Prince or that Republic against whom there had been conspiracies, that, when they have knowledge that there is a conspiracy manifest against them, before they engage in an enterprise to avenge it, to seek to learn very well its nature, and to measure well the conditions of both themselves and the conspirators; and if they find it (the conspiracy) to be big and powerful, they must never discover it until they are prepared with sufficient force to crush it, otherwise by doing so they will discover their own ruin: therefore they ought with every industry conceal it, for the conspirators, seeing themselves discovered, driven by necessity, will act without consideration. As an example, there are the Romans, who had left two legions of soldiers to guard the Capuans from the Samnites ((as we said elsewhere)); the Heads of those legions conspired together to oppress the Capuans: when this was learned at Rome, they commissioned Rutilius, the new Consul, that this be prevented; who, to lull the conspirators to sleep, had published that the Senate had reaffirmed the quartering of the legions in Capua. Which, being believed by those soldiers, and it appearing to them to have time to execute their design, did not seek to accelerate the matter, and thus they remained until they begun to see that the Consul was separating them from each other; which thing generating suspicion in them, caused them to be discovered and to go on with their desire to execute the plot. Nor could there be a better example for both parties; for through this, it is seen how much men are dilatory in things when they believe they have time, and how ready they are when necessity drives them. Nor can a Prince or a Republic who want, for their own advantage, to defer the discovery (of a conspiracy) use better means than to hold out another opportunity to the conspirators through slyness, so that they expecting it, or it appearing to them to have time, the (Prince) or (Republic) will have time to castigate them. Whoever has done otherwise has accelerated his ruin, as did the Duke of Athens and Guglieimo De Pazzi. The Duke, having become Tyrant of Florence, and learning that he was being conspired against, caused ((without otherwise examining the matter)) one of the conspirators to be taken, which quickly made the others take up arms, and take the State away from him. Guglieimo being commissioner in the Val Di Chiano in MDI (1501), and having learned that there was a conspiracy in Arezzo in favor of the Vitelli, to take that town away from the Florentines, quickly went to that City, and without taking into consideration the strength of the conspirators, or of his own, and without preparing any force for himself, by the counsel of his son, the Bishop, caused one of the conspirators to be taken; after which seizure the others took up arms and took the town away from the Florentines and Guglieimo from being Commissioner became a prisoner.

But when Conspiracies are weak they can and ought to be crushed without regard. However, the two methods used, although almost the contrary of each other, are not in any way to be imitated: The one is that of the above named Duke of Athens, who, to show his belief in having the good will of the Citizens of Florence, put to death one who had discovered the Conspiracy to him: the other is that of Dion, the Syracusan, who, to test the loyalty of anyone of whom he had suspicion, ordered Callipus in whom he confided, that he should pretend to make a Conspiracy against him, and both of these fared badly: for the one took away courage from the accusers and gave it to whoever wanted to conspire; the other made the way easy for his own death, but actually was his own Head of a Conspiracy against himself, as was proved by experience, for Callipus ((being able to plot against Dion without regard)) plotted so well, that he took away from him the State and his life.

CHAPTER VII

WHENCE THAT WHEN CHANGES TAKE PLACE FROM LIBERTY TO SLAVERY, AND FROM SLAVERY TO LIBERTY, SOME ARE EFFECTED WITHOUT BLOODSHED, AND SOME ARE FULL OF IT

Some may doubt whence it arises that many changes that are made from liberty to tyranny, and contrarywise, some are done with bloodshed, some without. For ((as is learned from history)) in such changes, some times an infinite number of men have been killed, some times no one has even been injured, as happened in the change that Rome made from Kings to Consuls, where only the Tarquins were driven out and no one else suffered injury. Which depends on this, whether that State that is changed does so with violence, or not: for when it is effected with violence, it does so with injury to many; then in its ruin, it is natural that the injured ones would want to avenge themselves, and from this desire for vengeance results bloodshed and the death of men. But when that change of State is made by common consent of the general public who had made it great, then there is no reason when it is overthrown, for the said general public to harm anyone but the Head. And the State of Rome was of this kind, and so was the expulsion of the Tarquins, as also was the State of De’ Medici in Florence, when in the year one thousand four hundred ninety four (1494) no one was harmed but themselves. And such changes do not come to be very dangerous; but those are indeed very dangerous that are made by those who have to avenge themselves, which were always of a sort to make those who read ((and others)) to become terrified: but because history is full of these examples, I shall omit them.

CHAPTER VIII

HE WHO WANTS TO ALTER A REPUBLIC OUGHT TO CONSIDER ITS CONDITION

And if there has already been discussed above how a bad Citizen cannot work evil in a Republic which is not corrupt, this conclusion is fortified ((in addition to the reasons that have already been given)) by the example of Spurius Cassius and Manlius Capitolinus; this Spurius being an ambitious man, and wanting to assume extraordinary authority in Rome, and to gain over to himself the plebs by giving them many benefits such as selling them those fields which the Romans had taken from the Hernicians; this ambition of his was discovered by the Fathers (Senate), and he was held in so great suspicion, that in talking to the people and offering to give them that money which they had received for the grain that the public had caused to be sent from Sicily, they (the people) refused it entirely, as it appeared to them that Spurius was wanting to give them the price of their liberty. But if this people had been corrupt, it would not have refused the said price, but would have opened the road to that Tyranny which they had closed to him.

The example of this Manlius Capitolinus is even a better one, for, through this man, it is seen how much virtu of the mind and body, and how much good works done in favor of the Country are afterward cancelled by the evil ambition to rule; which ((as is seen)) sprung up in this man because of the envy he had for the honors given to Camillus, and he came to such a blindness of the mind, that without considering the customs of the City, nor examining its condition, which was not yet prepared to accept a bad form of Government, he set himself to create tumults in Rome against the Senate and against the laws of the country. Here we see the perfection of that City, and the excellence of its people; for in his case, no one of the Nobility ((although they were ardent defenders of each other)) moved to favor him, none of his relatives made any enterprise to aid him: and where in the case of the other accused (their families) were accustomed to appear downcast, dressed in black, all sadness, in order to obtain mercy in favor of the accused, with Manlius not one was seen. The Tribunes of the plebs who were accustomed always to favor the things that seemed to them to benefit the people, and especially when they were against the nobles, in this case they united with the Nobles to suppress a common pestilence. The people of Rome, most desirous of preserving its own interests, and lovers of things brought against the Nobility, had at first shown many favors toward Manlius; none the less, the Tribunes cited him and brought his cause to the judgment of the people; (and) that people from being defenders became judges, without any regard condemned him to death. I do not believe, therefore, that there is an example in history more suitable to show the excellence of all the Institutions of this Republic as much as this, seeing that no one of that City moved to defend a Citizen full of every virtu, and who publicly and privately had performed many laudable deeds. For the love of country had more power over all of them than any other consideration; and they considered much more the present dangers to which they were exposed than his past merits, so that they liberated themselves by his death. And Titus Livius said; Thus ended the career of this man, who would have been memorable had he not been born in a free society.

Here two things are to be considered: the one, that glory is to be sought by other means in a corrupt City than in one which still lives with its institutions: the other, ((which is almost the same as the first)) that men in their dealings, and so much more in their greatest actions, ought to consider the times and accommodate themselves to them: and those who from a bad choice or from a natural inclination are not in accord with the times, most of the times live unhappily and their actions have bad endings; and, on the contrary, those live happily who are in accord with the times. And without doubt, from the words mentioned by the historian, it can be concluded, that if Manlius had been born in the times of Marius and Sulla, when the people were corrupt, and when he could have shaped them according to his ambition, he would have obtained those same results and successes as Marius and Sulla, and the others who after them aspired to the Tyranny. Thus, in the same way, if Sulla and Marius had lived in the times of Manlius, they would have been crushed in their first enterprise. For a man can well by his methods and evil ways begin to corrupt the people of a City, but it is impossible that the life of one is (long) enough to corrupt them so that they, through it, can enjoy its fruit; and even if it were possible by the length of time that he should do so, it would be impossible from the manner in which men proceed, who, being impatient, cannot delay a passion of theirs for a long time, so that they deceive themselves in their own affairs, and especially in those which they desire very much. So that either from little patience, or from deceiving themselves, they attempt an enterprise at the wrong time, and would end badly.

To want to assume authority in a Republic, and install there a bad form of a Government, therefore, there is need to find the people corrupted by the times and that, little by little, from generation to generation, it is led to this corruption; these are led by necessity to this, unless they are ((as has been discussed above)) reinvigorated frequently by good examples or brought back by good laws to their principles. Manlius, therefore, would have been a rare and memorable man if he had been born in a corrupt City. And therefore the Citizens in a Republic who attempt an enterprise either in favor of Liberty or in favor of Tyranny, ought to consider the condition of things, and judge the difficulty of the enterprise; for it is as difficult and dangerous to want to make a people free who want to live in servitude, as to want to make a people slave who want to live free. And as it has been said above that men in their actions ought to consider the kind of times and proceed according to them, we will discuss this at length in the following chapter.

CHAPTER IX

HOW ONE MUST CHANGE WITH THE TIMES, IF HE WANTS TO HAVE GOOD FORTUNE ALWAYS

I have many times considered that the causes of the good and bad fortunes of men depend on the manner of their proceeding with the times. For it is seen that some men in their actions proceed with drive, others with consideration and caution. And as in the one and the other of these suitable limits are exceeded, not being able to observe the true course in either, errors are made: but he who comes to err less and have good fortune, is he who suits the times ((as I have said)) with his methods, and always proceeds according to the impulses of his nature. Everybody knows that Fabius Maximus proceeded with his army with consideration and caution, far removed from all impetuosity and all Roman audacity, and his good fortune was that his method well suited the times. For Hannibal having come into Italy a young man and with his fortunes fresh, and having already twice overcome the Roman People, and that Republic being almost deprived of her good troops and discouraged, could not have experienced better fortune than to have a Captain who, with his slowness and caution, had kept the enemy at bay. Nor could Fabius also have found times more suitable to his methods, from which his glory resulted. And that Fabius had done this from his nature, and not by choice, is seen when Scipio wanting to pass into Africa with those armies to put an end to the war, Fabius contradicted this so greatly, as one who could not break away from his methods and his customs. So that, if he had been (master), Hannibal would still be in Italy, as he (Fabius) could not see that the times had changed. But being born in a Republic where Citizens and dispositions were different, as was Fabius, who was excellent in the times needed to protract the war, and as was Scipio in the times suited to win it. From this it happens that a Republic has a greater vitality and a longer good fortune than a Principality, for it can accommodate itself better to the differences of the times, because of the diversity of its Citizens, than can a Principality. For a man who is accustomed to proceed in one manner, will never change, as has been said, and it happens of necessity that, when times change in a way not in accordance with his manner, he is ruined. Piero Soderini, mentioned previously several times, proceeded in all his affairs with patience and humanity. He and his country prospered while the times were in conformity with his manner of proceeding: but afterwards when the times came when it was necessary to break that patience and humility, he did not know how to do it; so that, together with his country, he was ruined. Pope Julius II proceeded during all the time of his Pontificate with impetuosity and with fury, and because the times well accorded with him, all his enterprises turned out successfully for him. But if other times had existed requiring other counsel, of necessity he would have been ruined, for he would not have changed his manner nor his conduct.

And there are two reasons that we cannot thus change; The one, that we cannot resist that to which nature inclines us: The other, that having prospered greatly by one method of procedure, it is not possible to persuade them they can do well to proceed otherwise: whence it happens that fortune varies in a man, as it varies with the times, but he does not change his methods. The ruin of Cities also happens from the institutions of the Republic not changing with the times, as we discussed at length above. But they (changes) arrive later (in a Republic) because they suffer more in changing, for times will come when the whole Republic will be unsettled, so that the changing in method of procedure by one man will not suffice.

And as we have made mention of Fabius Maximus, who held Hannibal at bay, it appears to me proper to discuss in the following chapter, how a Captain ((wanting in any way to come to an engagement with the enemy)) can be impeded by the (enemy) from doing so.

CHAPTER X

THAT A CAPTAIN CANNOT AVOID AN ENGAGEMENT IF THE ADVERSARY WANTS TO DO SO IN EVERY WAY

Gneius Sulpitius, appointed Dictator in the war against the Gauls, not wanting to commit his fortunes against the host, whose (position) was daily deteriorating from the disadvantage of the place. When an error is followed in which all or a greater part of men deceive themselves, I do not believe it is bad sometimes to refute it. Therefore, although I have many times before shown how much the actions concerning great things are different from those of ancient times, none the less, it does not appear to me superfluous at present to repeat it. For, if we deviate in any part from the institutions of the ancients, we deviate especially in military actions, where at present none of those things greatly esteemed by the ancients are observed. And this defect arises because Republics and Princes have imposed this charge on others, and to avoid the dangers have far removed themselves from this practice: and even if a King of our times is sometimes seen to go in person, it is not to be believed therefore that methods meriting greater praise will arise; for even if he does follow that practice, he does it for pomp only, and not from any other laudable reason. Yet these make less error in showing themselves with their armies while retaining for themselves the title of Commander, than do the Republics; and especially the Italian ones, which, trusting in others, do not understand anything of what pertains to war, and on the other hand wanting ((in order to appear as a Prince to them)) to decide things, make a thousand errors in such decisions. And although I have elsewhere discussed some, I do not now want to be silent on one of the most important.

When these indolent Princes, or effeminate Republics, sent out their Captain, the wisest commission that it appears to them to give him is this, when they impose on him that he does not come to an engagement under any circumstance, but rather above everything to guard against coming to battle: and in this, they appear to imitate the prudence of Fabius Maximus, who be delaying the fighting saved the state for the Romans; but they did not understand that the greater part of the time such a commission is null or harmful; for this conclusion ought to be made, that a Captain who wants to stay in the field, cannot avoid an engagement any time the enemy wants to do so in any way. And this commission is nothing else, but to say - make the engagement at the convenience of the enemy, and not at your own. For to want to stay in the field and not undertake an engagement, there is no more secure remedy than to keep oneself and at least fifty thousand men a good distance from the enemy and then to keep good spies who, when they see him coming toward you, give you time to distance yourself. Another procedure is this, to shut yourself up in a City; and both of these proceedings are harmful. In the first, one leaves his country prey to the enemy, and a valiant Prince would rather try the fortune of battle than to lengthen the war with so much harm to his subjects. In the second proceeding defeat is manifest; for it will happen if you bring yourself with the army into a City, you will come to be besieged, and in a short time suffer hunger and you will come to surrender. So that to avoid an engagement by these two methods ins most injurious. The method employed by Fabius Maximus of staying in a strong place is good when you have an army of so much virtu that the enemy does not dare to come to meet you inside your advantageous position. Nor can it be said that Fabius avoided an engagement, but rather that he wanted to do it at his advantage. For, if Hannibal had gone to meet him, Fabius would have awaited him and fought an engagement with him: but Hannibal never dared to combat with him in the manner of his (Fabius). So that an engagement was avoided as much by Hannibal as by Fabius: but if one of them had wanted to in any way, the other would have had three remedies, that is, the two mentioned above, or flight.

That what I say is true is clearly seen from a thousand examples, and especially in the war the Romans carried on with Philip of Macedonia, father of Perseus; for Philip being assaulted by the Romans, decided not to come to battle, and in order not to wanted to do first as Fabius Maximus had done in Italy, posting himself with his army on the summit of a mountain, where he greatly fortified himself, judging that the Romans would not dare to go to meet him. But they did go and combat him, and drove him from the mountain, and no longer being able to resist, fled with the greater part of his forces. And what saved him from being entirely destroyed was the irregularity of the country, which prevented the Romans from pursuing him. Philip, therefore, not wanting to come to battle, but being posted with his camp adjacent to the Romans, was forced to flee; and having learned from this experience that keeping on the mountains was not enough in wanting to avoid a battle, and not wanting to shut himself up in towns, decided to take the other method of staying many miles distant from the Roman camp. Whence, if the Romans were in one province, he would go into another: and thus whenever the Romans left one place, he would enter it. And seeing in the end that in prolonging the war by this means only worsened his condition, and that his subjects were oppressed now by him, now by the enemy, he decided to try the fortune of battle, and thus came to a regular engagement with the Romans.

It is useful, therefore, not to combat when the armies have such conditions as the army of Fabius had, and which that of C. Sulpicius did not have, that is, to have an army so good that the enemy will not dare to come to meet you within your strongholds; or that he is in your territory without having taken many footholds, so that he suffers from lack of supplies. And in this case the procedure is useful, for the reasons that Titus Livius says; No one should commit his fortune against a host, which time and the disadvantage of the place makes to deteriorate daily. But in any other case, the engagement cannot be avoided without danger and dishonor to you. For to flee ((as Philip did)) is as being routed, and with more disgrace when less proof is given of your virtu. And if he (Philip) had succeeded in saving himself, another would not have succeeded who was not aided by the country, as he was. No one will ever say that Hannibal was not a master of war; and if, when he was at the encounter with Scipio in Africa, he should have seen advantage in prolonging the war, he would have done so: and for the future ((he being a good Captain and having a good army)) he would have been able to do as Fabius did in Italy, but not having done so, it ought to be believed that some important reason had persuaded him. For a Prince who has an army put together, and sees that from a want of money or of friends he cannot maintain such an army for any length of time, is completely mad if he does not try the fortune (of battle) before such an army would be dissolved, because by waiting he loses for certain, but by trying he may be able to win. There is something else to be esteemed greatly, which is, that in losing one ought also to want to acquire glory: and there is more glory in being overcome by force, than by some other evil which causes you to lose. So must Hannibal also have been constrained by this necessity. And on the other hand Scipio, when Hannibal had delayed the engagement and lacked sufficient courage to go to meet him in his strongholds, did not suffer, for he had already defeated Syphax and acquired so much territory in Africa that he was able to remain there as secure and with convenience as in Italy. This did not happen to Hannibal when he was encountering Fabius, nor to those Gauls who were at the encounter with Sulpicius. So much less also can that man avoid an engagement who with the army assaults the country of others; for if he wants to enter the country of the enemy, he must ((if the enemy comes to an encounter with him)) come to battle with him; and if he besieges a town, he is so much more obliged to come to battle; as happened in our times to Duke Charles of Burgundy, who being in camp before Moratto, a town of the Swiss, was assaulted and routed by them; and as happened to the French army, while encamping before Novara, was routed by the Swiss in the same way.

CHAPTER XI

THAT HE WHO HAS TO DO WITH MANY, EVEN THOUGH HE IS INFERIOR, AS LONG AS HE RESISTS THE FIRST ATTACK, WINS

The power of the Tribunes of the plebs in the City of Rome was great and necessary, as has been discussed by us many times, because otherwise it would not have been able to place a restraint on the ambitions of the Nobles, who would have a long time before corrupted that Republic which was not corrupted. None the less, as in all human things ((as has been said at other times)) there is some inherent evil hidden which causes new accidents to spring up, it is necessary to provide against these by new institutions. The authority of the Tribunes had become insolent and formidable to the Nobility and to all Rome, and some evil would have arisen harmful to Roman liberty if the means had not been shown by Appius Claudius with which they could protect themselves against the ambitions of the Tribunes; this was that there was always to be found among themselves some one who was either afraid, or corruptible, or a lover of the common good, whom they would dispose to be opposed to the decisions of those others who should act contrary to the wishes of the Senate. Which remedy was a great tempering force against so much authority, and for a long time benefited Rome. Which thing has made me consider that whenever there are many powerful ones united against another powerful one, even though they all together may be more powerful than he, none the less hope ought always to be placed more in that one by itself and less strong than in the greater number of them even though stronger. For ((taking into account all those things of which one can take advantage better than the many, which may be infinite)) this will always occur, that by using a little industry he will be able to disunite the many and make weak that body which was strong. I do not want here to cite ancient examples, of which there are many, but I want those happening in our times to suffice me. In the year one thousand four hundred eighty four (1484) all Italy conspired against the Venetians, and then when they had lost everything and could no longer keep an army in the field, they corrupted Signor Lodovico who was governing Milan, and by this corruption made an accord in which they not only recovered the lost territories, but they usurped part of the State of Ferrara. And thus, those who had lost in war, remained superior in peace. A few years ago all the world conspired against France, none the less before the end of the war had been seen, Spain rebelled from its confederates and made an accord with them (France), so that the other confederates were constrained a little later also to make an accord with them. So that without doubt, judgment ought always to be made when one sees a war fought by many against one, that the one will remain superior, if he is of such virtu that he can resist the first shock and await events by temporizing; for, if he cannot do this, he is faced with a thousand dangers, as happened to the Venetians in eight (1508), who, if they could have temporized with French the army, and have had time to win over to themselves some of those colleagued against them, would have escaped that ruin; but not having armed men of such virtu able to temporize with the enemy, and because of this not having time to separate anyone, they were ruined: For it is seen that the Pope, after having recovered his possessions, made friends with them; and so did Spain: and both of these two Princes very willingly would have saved the State of Lombardy for the Venetians against the French, in order not to make them so powerful in Italy, if they had been able. The Venetians, therefore, were able to give up part in order to save the rest, which, if that had been done it in time before it appeared to have been a necessity, and before the war was begun, would have been a most wise proceeding; but once the was set in motion, it would have been disgraceful, and perhaps of little profit. But before the war began, a few of the Citizens of Venice were able to see the danger, very few to see the remedy, and none advised it. But to return to the beginning of this discourse, I conclude that just as the Roman Senate had a remedy for saving the country from the ambitions of the Tribunes, who were many, so also any Prince will have a remedy, who is assaulted by many, any time he knew how to use with prudence the means suitable to disunite them.

CHAPTER XII

HOW A PRUDENT CAPTAIN OUGHT TO IMPOSE EVERY NECESSITY FOR FIGHTING ON HIS SOLDIERS, AND TAKE THEM AWAY FROM THE ENEMY

At another time we have discussed how useful necessity is to human actions, and to what glory they have been led by it; and it has been written by some moral Philosophers that the hands and the tongue of men, two most noble instruments to ennoble him, would not have operated perfectly, nor brought human works to the heights to which it has been seen they were conducted, unless they had been pushed by necessity. The ancient Captains having recognized the virtu of such necessity, therefore, and how much it caused the spirits of the soldiers to become obstinate in the fighting, did everything they could to see that the soldiers were constrained by it. And on the other hand they used all industry so that the enemy be freed (from fighting); and because of this they often opened to the enemy that road which they could have closed, and closed to their own soldiers that which they could have left open. Whoever, therefore, desires that a City be defended obstinately, or that an army in the field should fight, ought above every other thing to endeavor to put such necessity into the hearts of those who have to fight. Whence a prudent Captain who has to go to destroy a City, ought to measure the ease or difficulty of the siege by finding out and considering what necessity constrains its inhabitants to defend themselves; and when much necessity is found which constrains them to the defense, he judges the siege will be difficult, if otherwise, he judges it to be easy. From this it follows that towns, after a rebellion, are more difficult to acquire than they were in the original acquisition; for in the beginning, not having cause to fear punishment because they had not given offense, they surrender easily: but if it appears to them ((they having rebelled)) to have given offense, and because of this fearing punishment, they become difficult under siege.

Such obstinacy also arises from the natural hatred the neighboring Princes and Republics have for one another, which proceeds from the ambition to dominate and the jealousy of their State; especially if they are Republics, as happened in Tuscany: which rivalry and contention has made, and always will make, difficult the destruction of one by the other. Whoever, therefore, considers well the neighbors of the City of Florence and the neighbors of the City of Venice, will not marvel ((as many do)) that Florence has expended more in war and acquired less than Venice; for it arises from the fact that the Venetians did not have neighbors as obstinate in their defense as had Florence, and the neighboring Cities of Venice being accustomed to live under a Prince and not free; and those which are accustomed to servitude often esteem less a change of masters, and rather many times they desire it. So that Venice ((although she had neighbors more powerful than did Florence)), because of having found these (neighboring) lands more obstinate, was able rather to overcome them than that other (Florence), since it is surrounded entirely by free States.

A Captain ought, therefore, ((to return to the beginning of this discourse)) when he assaults a town, to endeavor with all diligence to deprive the defenders of such necessity, and thus also its obstinacy; promising them pardon if they have fear of punishment, and if they have fear of losing their liberty, to assure them he is not contriving against the common good, but against the few ambitious ones in the City. This has often facilitated the enterprise and the capture of towns. And although similar (artifices) are easily recognized, and especially by prudent men, none the less the people are often deceived; they, in their intense desire for present peace, close their eyes to any other snare that may be hidden under these large promises, and in this way, an infinite number of Cities have fallen into servitude; as happened to Florence in recent times, and to Crassus and his army (in ancient times) who, although he recognized the vain promises of the Parthians which were made to deprive the soldiers of the necessity to defend themselves, none the less, being blinded by the offer of peace which was made to them by their enemies, he could not keep them obstinate (in their resistance), as is observed reading of the life of (Crassus) in detail.

I say, therefore, that the Samnites, because of the ambitions of a few and outside the conventions of the accord, overran and pillaged the fields of the confederate Romans; and then sent Ambassadors to Rome to ask for peace, offering to restore the things pillaged and to give up as prisoners the authors of the tumults and the pillaging, but were rebuffed by the Romans: and (the Ambassadors) having returned to Samnium without hope for any accord, Claudius Pontius, then Captain of the Army of the Samnites, pointed out in a notable oration that the Romans wanted war in any event, and even though they themselves should desire peace, necessity made them pursue the war, saying these words: War is just, where it is from necessity, and where there is no hope but in arms; upon which necessity he based his hope of victory with his soldiers.

And in order not to return to this subject further, it appears proper to me to cite those Roman examples which are more worthy of annotation. C. Manlius was with his army encountering the Veientes, and a part of the Veientan army having entered into the entrenchments of Manlius, Manlius ran with a band to their succor, and so that the Veientans would not be able to save themselves, occupied all the entrances to the camp: whence the Veienti, seeing themselves shut in, began to fight with such fury that they killed Manlius, and would have attacked all the rest of the Romans, if one of the Tribunes by his prudence had not opened a way for them to get out. Whence it is seen that when necessity constrained the Veienti to fight, they fought most ferociously: but when they saw the way open, they thought more of flight than of fighting. The Volscians and Equeans had entered with their armies into the confines of Rome. They (the Romans) sent Consuls against them. So that the army of the Volscians, of which Vettius Messius was Head, in the heat of battle found itself shut in between its own entrenchments which were occupied by the Romans and the other Roman army; and seeing that they needs much die or save themselves by the sword, he (Messius) said these words to his soldiers; Follow me, neither walls nor ditches block you, but only men armed as you are: of equal virtu, you have the superiority of necessity, that last but best weapon. So that this necessity is called by T. Livius THE LAST AND BEST WEAPON. Camillus, the most prudent among all the Roman Captains, having already entered the City of the Veienti with his army, to facilitate its taking and to deprive the enemy of the last necessity of defending themselves, commanded, in a way that the Veienti heard, that no one was to be harmed of those who should be disarmed. So that they threw down their arms and the City was taken almost without bloodshed. Which method was afterwards observed by many Captains.

CHAPTER XIII

WHERE ONE SHOULD HAVE MORE CONFIDENCE, EITHER IN A GOOD CAPTAIN WHO HAS A WEAK ARMY, OR IN A GOOD ARMY WHICH HAS A WEAK CAPTAIN

Coriolanus, having become an exile from Rome, went to the Volscians, where he raised an army with which he went to Rome in order to avenge himself against his Countrymen; but he left there more because of his affection for his mother than of the power of the Romans. On which occasion T. Livius says it was because of this that it was recognized that the Roman Republic grew more from the virtu of the Captains than of its soldiers, seeing that the Volscians had in the past been defeated, and that they only won because Coriolanus was their Captain. And although Livius holds such an opinion, none the less it is seen in many instances in history where soldiers without a Captain have given marvelous proof of their virtu, and to have been better ordered and more ferocious after the death of their Consuls, than before they died; as occurred with the army that the Romans had in Spain under the Scipio’s which, after the death of its two Captains was able through its own virtu not only to save itself, but to defeat the enemy and preserve that province for the Republic. So that, everything considered, many examples will be found where only the virtu of the soldiers won the day, and other examples where only the virtu of the Captains produced the same result; so that it can be judged that they both have need for each other.

And it may be well here to consider first, which is more to be feared, a good army badly captained, or a good Captain accompanied by a bad army. And following the opinion of Caesar in this, both the one and the other ought to be little esteemed. For when he went into Spain against Afranius and Petreius who had a (good) army, he said he cared little of that: He was here going against an army without a leader, indicating the weakness of the Captains. On the other hand, when he went into Thessaly against Pompey, he said, I go against a leader without an army. Another thing to be considered is whether it is easier for a good Captain to create a good army, or a good army to create a good Captain. Upon this I say that the question appears to be decided, for it is much easier for the many good to find or instruct one so that he becomes good, than the one to from the many. Lucullus, when he was sent against Mithradates, was completely inexpert in war: none the less, that good army in which there were very many good Heads, soon made him a good Captain. The Romans, because of a lack of men, armed many slaves and gave them to Sempronius Gracchus to be trained, who in a brief time made a good army of them. After Pelopidas and Epaminondas ((as we said elsewhere)) had delivered Thebes, their country, from the servitude of the Spartans, in a short time made very good soldiers of the Theban peasants, who were able not only to sustain the attack of the Spartan troops, but to overcome them. So the matter is equal; for one good finds another. None the less, a good army without a good Captain often becomes insolent and dangerous, as was the case with the army of Macedonia after the death of Alexander, and with the veteran soldiers in the civil wars (of Rome). So that I believe that more reliance can be had in a Captain who has time to instruct his men and the facilities for arming them, than in an insolent army with a Head tumultuously made by them. The glory and praise of those Captains, therefore, is to be doubled, who not only had to defeat the enemy, but, before they met them hand to hand, were obliged to train their army and make them good. For in this is shown that double virtu that is so rare, that if the same task was given to many (Captains), they would not have been esteemed and reputed as much as they are.

CHAPTER XIV

WHAT EFFECTS THE NEW INVENTION AND NEW VOICES HAVE THAT APPEAR IN THE MIDST OF BATTLE

Of what importance is some new incident which arises from something new that is seen or heard in conflicts and battles, is shown in many instances, and especially in the example that occurred in the battle which the Romans fought with the Volscians, where Quintus seeing one wing of his army give way, began to shout strongly that they should hold firm, as the other wing of the army was victorious. With which words he gave new courage to his soldiers and dismayed the enemy, so that he won. And if such voices have such great effects in a well organized army, they have even greater effect in a tumultuous and badly organized one, for all are moved by a similar impulse. And I want to cite a notable example which occurred in our own times. A few years ago the City of Perugia was divided into two parties, the Oddi and the Baglioni. The latter ruled and the former were exiles: who, having gathered an army through their friends, and established themselves in several towns adjacent to Perugia; one night, with the aid of their partisans, they entered that City, and without being discovered they succeeded in taking the piazza. And as that City had the streets in all of its parts barred by chains, the Oddi forces had one man in front, who broke the fastenings of the chains with an iron club, so that horses could pass; and only the one which opened on the plaza remained to be broken, and the cry to arms already had been raised; and he who was breaking (the chains) being pressed by the disturbance of those who came behind, could not, because of this, raise his arms to break the chain, in order to manage this called to them to fall back; which cry passing from rank to rank, saying “fall back”, began to make the last (rank) flee, and one by one the others followed with such fury, that they were routed by themselves: and thus the designs of the Oddi were in vain because of so slight an accident. Which shows the necessity of discipline in an army is not only necessary for them to be able to combat with order, but also to keep every slight accident from disorganizing them. Because not for any other reason are the undisciplined multitudes useless in war, as every noise, every voice, every uproar confuses them, and makes them flee. And therefore a good Captain, among his other orders, ought to arrange who those should be who have to take up his voice (commands) and transmit them to others, and he should accustom his soldiers not to believe anything except those of his Heads, and those Heads of his to say nothing except what he commissions them to; it has often been seen that the nonobservance of this rule has caused the greatest misfortunes.

As to seeing new things, every Captain ought to endeavor to make some appear while the armies are engaged, which will give courage to his men and take it away from the enemy, because among incidents which will give you the victory, this is most efficacious. For which, the testimony of C. Sulpicius, the Roman Dictator, can be cited, who, coming to battle with the Gauls, armed all the teamsters and camp followers, and making them mount mule’s and other beasts of burden, and with arms and ensigns made them appear as mounted forces; he placed them behind a hill, and commanded that at a given signal at the time the battle was hottest, they should discover and show themselves to the enemy. Which thing thus organized and carried out, gave the Gauls so much terror, that they lost the day. And, therefore, a good Captain ought to do two things: the one, to see that with some of these new inventions to dismay the enemy; the other, to be prepared, if these things are done against him by the enemy, to be able to discover them and make them turn useless; as did the King of India against Semiramis, who (the Queen) seeing that the King had a good number of elephants, to frighten him and to show him that hers were also plentiful, formed many with the hides of buffaloes and cows, and these she placed on camels and sent them forward; but the deceit being recognized by the King, that design turned out not only useless but damaging to her. The Dictator Mamercus was waging war against the Fidenati, who, in order to dismay the Roman army, arranged that, in the ardor of battle there should issue forth from Fidene, a number of soldiers with fire on their lances, so that the Romans, occupied by the novelty of the thing, would break ranks (and create confusion) among themselves. Here it is to be noted, that when such inventions contain more of reality than fiction, they can be shown to men, because as they appear strong, their weakness will not be readily discovered; as did C. Sulpicius with the muleteers. For where there is intrinsic weakness, if they come too near, they are soon discovered, and cause you more harm than good, as did the elephants to Semiramis, and the fire to the Fidentes; which, although they did in the beginning disturb the army a little, none the less, when the Dictator saw through them, and, begun to shout to them, saying they should be ashamed to flee the smoke like insects, and shouted to them that they should return to the fight. (And) With their torches destroy Fidenes, which your benefits could not placate, he turned that artifice used by the Fidenati useless, and caused them to be the losers of the fight.

CHAPTER XV

THAT AN ARMY SHOULD HAVE ONE, AND NOT MANY, IN CHARGE, AND THAT MANY COMMANDERS ARE HARMFUL

The Fidenati having revolted, and having killed the Colony that the Romans had sent to Filene, the Roman, in order to remedy this insult, created four Tribunes with Consular power, one of whom they left to guard Rome, and the other three were sent against the Fidenati and the Veienti; who (the Tribunes), because they were divided among themselves and disunited, gained dishonor but experienced no injury. For this dishonor they themselves were the cause, the virtu of the soldiers was the cause of their not receiving injury. Whence the Romans, seeing this disaster, had recourse to the creation of a Dictator, so that one alone would restore that which three had destroyed. Whence the uselessness of many commanders in an army, or in a town that has to be defended is recognized: and Titus Livius could not more clearly state it with these forcible words: Three Tribunes with Consular power, proved how useless it was to give the conduct of the war to any; for each having his own counsel, each different from the others, they afforded the enemy (hosts) an opportunity to take advantage of the situation. And although this is a good example to prove the disorder which a plurality of commanders create in a war, I want to cite some others, both modern and ancient, to clarify this further. In the year one thousand five hundred (1500), after King Louis XII of France had retaken Milan, he sent his forces to Pisa to restore her to the Florentines; where (Florence) sent as Commissioners Giovanbattista Ridolfi and Luca Antonio Degli Albizzi. And as Giovanbattista was a man of reputation and the older (of the two), Luca left the management of everything to him: and although he did not show his ambition by opposing him, he showed it by his silence and by the indifference and contempt toward everything, so that he did not aid him in the actions in the field either with deeds or counsel, as if he had been a man of no importance. But then the very opposite was seen when Giovanbattista, because of certain incidents that occurred, had to return to Florence; then Luca remaining alone showed how much he was worth by his courage, industry, and counsel, all of which were lost as long as there was a colleague. I want again to cite in confirmation of this the words of Titus Livius, who, referring to the Romans sending of Quintus and Agrippa, his colleague, against the Equeans, tells of how Agrippa wanted the entire administration of the war be given to Quintius, and said: For the success of the administration of great things, the principal authority is to exist in one man. Which is contrary to that which is done by our Republics and Princes today, who sent more than one Commissioner or more than one Head to (different) places in order to administer them better, which created an inestimable confusion. And if the causes of the ruin of the Italian and French armies of our times should be sought, this would be found to have been the most powerful of (all the) causes. And it may be truly concluded that it is better to send only one man of prudence on an expedition, than two most valiant men together with the same authority.

CHAPTER XVI

THAT TRUE VIRTU IS DIFFICULT TO FIND IN DIFFICULT TIMES, AND IN EASY TIMES IT IS NOT MEN OF VIRTU THAT PREVAIL, BUT THOSE WHO HAVE MORE FAVOR BECAUSE OF RICHES OR (POWERFUL) RELATION

It has always been, and always will be, that rare and great men are neglected in a Republic in times of peace; for through envy of their reputation which that virtu has given them, there are in such times many other citizens, who want to be, not only their equals, but their superiors. And of this, there is a good account by Thucydides, the Greek historian, who shows that the Athenian Republic having become superior in the Peloponnesian war, and having checked the pride of the Spartans, and almost subjected all of Greece, arose in reputation so much that she designed to occupy Sicily. This enterprise came to be debated in Athens. Alcibiades and some other Citizens counselled that it be done, as they thought more of honor and little of the public good, and planning to be heads of such an enterprise. But Nicias, who was first among men of reputation in Athens, dissuaded her, and the major reason he cited in addressing the people ((as they had faith in him)) was this, that in counselling her not to undertake this war, he was counselling something that was not being done for his interest, for as long as Athens was at peace he knew there were an infinite number of men who wanted to take precedence over him, but in making war he knew no citizen would be his equal or superior. It is seen, therefore, that in Republics there is this evil of having little esteem for men of valor in tranquil times. Which thing causes them to be indignant in two ways: the one, to see themselves deprived of their rank; the other, to see unworthy men (and) of less capacity than they become their colleagues and superiors. This defect in Republics has caused much ruin, for those Citizens who see themselves deprecated undeservedly, and knowing that the reasons for it are the easy and unperilous times, endeavor to disturb the Republic by setting new wars in motion to its detriment.

And in thinking of what those remedies could be, there are two to be found: the one, to keep the Citizens poor so that their wealth and lack of virtu should not enable them to corrupt either themselves or others; the other, to organize themselves for war in a way that war may always be undertaken and that there would always be undertaken and that their would always be need for Citizens of reputation, as did Rome in her early times. For as that City always kept armies (outside) in the field, there was always a place for men of virtu; nor could rank be taken away from one who merited it, and given to one who did not merit it. For, even if this was done some time either by mistake or by way of trial, so many disorders and dangers would occur to it that they quickly returned to the true course. But other Republics, which are not organized as she (Rome) was, and who wage war only when necessity constrains them to, cannot defend themselves from such inconvenience, but rather always run into them; and disorders will always arise when that virtuous but neglected Citizen is vindictive, and has reputation and adherents in that City. And if the City of Rome was defended from this (evil) for a time, and ((after she had overcome Carthage and Antioch, as was said elsewhere)) no longer fearing war, she seemed to be able to commit (the conduct of) the armies to whoever wanted it, not regarding virtu as much as the other qualities which would obtain for him the good will of the people. For it is seen that Paulus Emilius was refused the Consulship many times, nor was he made Consul until the Macedonian war had sprung up, which being thought perilous, (the command of the army) was committed to him by the consent of all the City.

Many wars having occurred in our City of Florence after (the year) one thousand four hundred ninety four (1494), and the Florentine Citizens all having given bad proof (of their ability), by chance there was found in the City one who showed in what manner the army should be commanded; this was Antonio Giacomini: and as long as they had dangerous wars to wage, all the ambition of her citizens ceased, and he had no one as competition in the choice as Commissary and Head of the armies: but when a war was to be waged where there was no doubt (of the outcome), and where there were to be only honors and rank (obtained), many competitors were to be found; so that having to select three Commissaries to besiege Pisa, he (Antonio) was left out. And although the evil that should ensue to the public for not having sent Antonio was not evident, none the less a conjecture of it could be made most easily; for the Pisans not having provisions with which to defend themselves, would have been in such straits that they quickly would have given themselves up to the

discretion of the Florentines, if Antonio had not been there (in command). But being besieged by Heads who did not know either how to press them or force them, they were so long delayed, that the City of Florence purchased it (Pisa). Such an indignity might well have had an effect on Antonio and it was necessary that he should have been good and very patient not to have desired to avenge himself either by the ruin of the City ((he being able to)) or by the injury of some particular citizen. From which a Republic ought to guard itself, as will be discussed in the ensuing chapter.

CHAPTER XVII

THAT ONE WHO HAS BEEN OFFENDED OUGHT NOT TO BE PLACED IN ANY ADMINISTRATION AND GOVERNMENT OF IMPORTANCE

A Republic ought to take great care not to promote anyone to any important administration who has been done a notable injury by someone. Claudius Nero ((who had left the army which he had confronting Hannibal, and with a part of it went into the Marca to meet the other Consul in order to combat Hasdrubal before he could join up with Hannibal)) found himself in Spain in front of Hasdrubal, and having locked him with his army in a place where he had to fight Hasdrubal at a disadvantage to himself, or to die of hunger; but he was so astutely detained by Hasdrubal with certain proposals of an accord, that he escaped and took away his (Nero’s) opportunity of crushing him. Which thing being known in Rome, the Senate and the People became greatly saddened, and he was discussed in shame throughout the entire City, not without great dishonor and indignity to him. But after having been made Consul and sent to encounter Hannibal, he took the above mentioned proceeding, which was most dangerous: so that all Rome remained troubled and in doubt until there came the news of the rout of Hasdrubal. And Claudius, afterwards being asked what the reason was why he had taken so dangerous a proceeding, in which without any extreme necessity he had almost gambled away the liberty of Rome, he answered that he had done so because he knew that if it succeeded, he would reacquire that glory that he had lost in Spain; and if he did not succeed, and their proceeding had had a contrary ending, he knew he would be avenged against that City and those Citizens who had so ungratefully and indiscreetly offended him. And if these passions could so exist in a Roman Citizen, and in those times when Rome was yet incorrupt, one ought to think how much they could exist in a Citizen of a City that was not like she was. And as similar disorders which arise in Republics cannot be given a certain (adequate) remedy, if follows that it is impossible to establish a perpetual Republic, because in a thousand unforeseen ways its ruin may be caused.

CHAPTER XVIII

NOTHING IS MORE WORTHY OF A CAPTAIN THAN TO PENETRATE THE PROCEEDINGS OF THE ENEMY

Epaminondas the Theban said nothing was more necessary and more useful for a Captain, than to know the decisions and proceedings of the enemy. And as such knowledge is difficult (to obtain), so much more praise does he merit who acts in a way that he conjectures it. And it is not so difficult to learn the designs of the enemy as it is sometimes difficult to understand his actions, and not as much his actions that he does at a distance, as those he does at the moment and near by. For it has happened many times that ((the battle having lasted until nightfall)) he who had won believed he had lost, and he who had lost believed he had won. Such an error had made men decide things contrary to the welfare of the one who made the decision; as happened to Brutus and Cassius, who by such an error lost the war, for Brutus having won on his wing, Cassius thought it had lost, and that the whole army had been routed, and despairing of his safety because of this error, killed himself. And in our times in the engagement which Francis, King of France, made in Lombardy at Santa Cecilia against the Swiss, night having fallen, that part of the Swiss who had not been broken believed themselves to have won, not knowing that the others had been routed and killed: which error caused them not to save themselves, for they awaited the morning to fight at such a disadvantage to them, that they also made another error; and this same error came near ruining the army of the Pope and of Spain, which, on the false news of victory, crossed the Po, and, if it had advanced any further, would have become prisoners of the French, who were victorious.

Such a similar error occurred in the camps of the Romans and those of the Equeans, where Sempronius the Consul with his army having come to an encounter with the enemy, and the battle having been enkindled, they fought all day until night with varying fortunes for the one and the other: the one went with the Consul, the other with one Tempanius, a Centurion, through whose virtu that day the Roman army was not entirely routed. When morning had come, the Roman Consul ((without knowing anything more of the enemy)) withdrew himself toward Rome, and the army of the Equeans did similarly; for each of these believed that the enemy had won, and therefore each one retreated without regard to leaving their encampment a prey (to the other). It happened that Tempanius, who was with the rest of the army and also retreating, learned from certain wounded of the Equeans that their Captains had departed and had abandoned their encampments; whence he, on this news, returned to the Roman encampments, and saved them, and afterwards sacked those of the Equeans, and returned to Rome victorious. Which victory ((as is seen)) consisted only in which of them first learned of the disorder of the enemy. Here it ought to be noted that it can often occur that two armies confronting themselves, are in the same disorder, and suffering from the same necessity; and he will become the victor who is the first to learn of the necessity of the other.

I want to give a domestic and modern example of this. In the year one thousand four hundred ninety eight (1498), when the Florentines had a big army before Pisa and pressed that city strongly; the Venetians having undertaken its protection and seeing no other way of saving her, decided to make a diversion from that war by assaulting from another side the dominion of the Florentines, and raising a powerful army, they entered it by was of the Val Di Lamona, and occupied the Borgo Di Marradi, and besieged the Rock (Fort) of Castiglione, which is on the top of the hill. The Florentines hearing of this, decided to succor Marradi, without diminishing the force they had before Pisa: and raising new infantry and organizing new cavalry forces, they sent them there, of which the heads were Jacopo Quarto D’Appian, Lord of Piombino, and the Count Rinuccio Da Marciano, When these forces were brought to the hill above Marradi, the enemy (Venetians) withdrew from around Castiglione and retired into the Borgo: and both of these armies having been facing each other for several days, both suffered from (lack of) provision and every other necessary thing; and one not daring to face the other, nor one knowing of the disorganization of the other, both decided to raise their camp the following morning and withdraw, the Venetians toward Berzighelli and Faenza, the Florentines toward Casaglia and the Mugello. When morning came, therefore, and each of the camps had commenced to send away its baggage, by chance a woman departed from the Borgo Da Marradi, and came toward the Florentine camp, being secure because of her old age and poverty, and desired to see certain of her people who were in the camp: from whom the Captains of the Florentine forces learning that the Venetian camp was departing, they were encouraged by this news, and changing their counsel, went after them, as if they had dislodged the enemy; and wrote to Florence that they had repulsed (the Venetians) and won the war. Which victory did not result from anything else other than to have learned before the enemy that they were departing, which news, if it had first gone to the other side, it would have had the same result against us.

CHAPTER XIX

WHETHER OBSEQUIES ARE MORE NECESSARY THAN PUNISHMENT IN RULING A MULTITUDE

The Roman Republic was disturbed by the enmity between the Nobles and the Plebs: none the less, when a war occurred (to them), they sent out Quintius and Appius Claudius with the armies. Appius, because he was cruel and rude in commanding, was ill obeyed by his soldiers, so that being almost overcome he fled from his province. Quintius, because he was if a benign and humane disposition, had his soldiers obedient to him, and brought back the victory. Whence it appears that it is better to be humane than haughty, gentle than cruel, when governing a multitude. None the less, Cornelius Tacitus ((with whom many other writers are in agreement)) in one of his opinions concludes the contrary, when he says: In governing the multitude Punishment is worth more than Obsequies. And in considering if it is possible to reconcile both of these opinions, I say that you have to rule men who ordinarily are colleagues, or men who are always your subjects. If they are your colleagues, punishment cannot entirely be used, nor that severity which Cornelius recommends: and as the Roman Pleb had equal sovereignty with the Nobility in Rome, anyone who had temporarily become a Prince could not manage them with cruelty and rudeness. And many times it is seen that better results were achieved by the Roman Captains who made themselves beloved by the armies, and who managed them with obsequies, than those who made themselves extraordinarily feared, unless they were already accompanied by an excessive virtu, as was Manlius Torquatus: But he who commands subjects ((of whom Cornelius talks about)), ought to turn rather to punishment than to gentleness, so that they should not become insolent and trample on you, because of your too great easiness. But this also ought to be moderate so that hatred is avoided, as making himself hated never returns good to a Prince. And the way of avoiding (hatred) is to let the property of the subjects alone; as to blood ((when one is not under the desire of rapine)), no Prince desires it unless it is necessary, and this necessity rarely arises; when it is mixed with rapine, it always arise, nor will there ever be reasons and the desire for shedding it lacking, as has been discussed at length in another treatise on this matter. Quintius, therefore, merits more praise than Appius; and the opinion of Cornelius within his own limitations, and not in the cases observed by Appius, merits to be approved. And as we have spoken of punishment and obsequies, it does not appear to me superfluous to show that an example of humanity can influence the Faliscians more than arms.

CHAPTER XX

AN EXAMPLE OF HOW HUMANITY DID INFLUENCE THE FALISCIANS MORE THAN ALL THE POWER OF ROME

When Camillus was with his army around the City of The Faliscians, and besieging it, a (school) teacher of the more noble children of that City, thinking to ingratiate himself with Camillus and the Roman people, under pretext of exercising them, went with them outside the City and led them all to the camp before Camillus, and presenting them to him said, that by means of them (the children) that town would be given into his hands: Which offer was not only not accepted by Camillus, but having had the teacher stripped and his hands bound behind his back, put a rod into the hands of each of the children, made him be beaten by them back to the town. When this was learned by those citizens, they liked the humanity and integrity of Camillus so much, that they decided to give up the town to him without wanting to defend themselves further. Whence it is to be observed by this true example how some times an act of humanity and full of charity can have more influence on the minds of men, than a ferocious and violent act; and that many times that province and that City, which, with arms, instruments of war, and every other human power, could not be conquered, was conquered by an example of humanity, of mercy, of chastity, or of generosity. Of which there are many other examples in the histories ((in addition to this)). And it is seen that Roman arms could not drive Pyrrhus out of Italy, but the generosity of Fabricus in making known to him the offer which his familiar (servant) had made to the Romans of poisoning him, did drive him out. It is also seen that the capture of New Carthage in Spain did not give Scipio Africanus so much reputation, as that example of chastity gave him, of having restored the young beautiful wife untarnished to her husband, the fame of which action made all Spain friendly to him. It is also to be seen how much people desired this virtu in great men, and how much it is praised by writers, and by the biographers of Princes, and by those who describe how they should live. Among whom Xenophon makes a great effort to show how many honors, how many victories, how much fame came to Cyrus by his being humane and affable, and by his not giving example of himself either of cruelty or haughtiness, or of luxuriousness, or of any other vice which stains the lives of men. Yet, none the less, seeing that Hannibal had acquired great victories and fame by contrary means, it appears proper to me to discuss in the following chapter whence this happens.

CHAPTER XXI

WHENCE IT HAPPENED THAT HANNIBAL, WITH A DIFFERENT METHOD OF PROCEEDING THAN SCIPIO, ACHIEVED THE SAME RESULT IN ITALY AS THE LATTER (DID IN SPAIN)

I think that some can marvel to see some Captains, not withstanding that they have employed contrary methods, to have none the less achieved the same results as those who have employed the methods described above; so that it appears the cause for victories does not depend on the aforesaid reason, rather it appears that those methods do not render you more powerful or more fortunate, as you are able by contrary methods to acquire glory and reputation. And so that I do not leave the above mentioned men, and to clarify more what I have wanted to show, I say that it is seen that as soon as Scipio entered Spain, he quickly made himself a friend of that province, and with that humanity and goodness of his, was adored and admired by the People. The contrary is seen when Hannibal entered Italy, and with every contrary method, that is, with violence, cruelty, rapine, and every kind of perfidy, obtained the same result that Scipio did in Spain; for all the Cities of Italy rebelled in favor of Hannibal, and all the people followed him. And in considering why this should result, many reasons are seen. The first is, that men are desirous of new things, which most of the times are desired as much by those who are well off as by those who are badly off; for ((as had been said another time, and is true)) men get tired of the good, and afflict themselves with the bad. This desire, therefore, opens the door to anyone in a province, who is the head of an innovation; and if he is a foreigner they run after him, if he is a provincial they surround him, favoring him and increasing his influence. So that in whatever way he proceeds, he will succeed in making great progress in those areas. In addition to this, men are pushed by two main things, either by love or by fear; so that he who makes himself loved commands as well as he who makes himself feared, although most of the times he who makes himself feared, although most of the times he who makes himself feared will be followed and obeyed (more readily) than he who makes himself loved. It matters little, therefore, to any Captain by which of these ways he proceeds, as long as he is a man of virtu, and that that virtu makes him reputed among men. For when this is great, as it was with Hannibal and Scipio, it cancels all those errors which are made either from making oneself loved too much or from making oneself feared too much. For from both of these two methods great evils may arise and apt to cause a Prince to be ruined. For he who desires too much to be loved becomes condemned every little he departs from the true path: the other who desires too much to be feared, becomes hated every little that he goes too far in that manner. And holding to the middle path cannot be done, because our nature does not permit this. But it is necessary to mitigate these extremes by an excessive virtu, as did Hannibal and Scipio. None the less it is seen that both of them were both hurt as well as exalted by this method of proceeding of theirs.

The exaltation of these two has been mentioned. The harm concerning Scipio, was that his soldiers in Spain rebelled with part of his friends, which resulted from nothing else other than they did not fear him: for men are so restless that with every little opening of the door to their ambitions, they quickly forget all the love that they had for the Prince because of his humanity, as the aforesaid soldiers and friends did; so that Scipio in order to remedy this evil was constrained to employ some of that cruelty which he had avoided. As to Hannibal, there is no particular example where his cruelty and perfidy caused him to be harmed. But it can indeed he presumed that Naples and many other towns which remained faithful to the Roman people, remained so because of fear of them (his cruelty and perfidy). This much is seen, that that method of his of acting unmercifully made him more odious to the Roman people than any other enemy which that Republic ever had. So that while they informed Pyrrhus ((while he was with the army in Italy)) of he who wanted to poison him, yet they never forgave Hannibal ((though disarmed and a fugitive)), so much so that they caused him to kill himself. This disaster happened to Hannibal, therefore, because of his being held unmerciful, cruel, and a breaker of the faith; but, on the other hand, he derived a great advantage from it, which is admired by all the writer, that in his army ((even though composed of various races of men)) there never arose any dissension, either among themselves, or against him. This could not derive from anything else other than from that terror which arose from his person, which was so great, and combined with that reputation which his virtu gave him, that he kept his soldiers quiet and united.

I conclude, therefore, that it does not matter much in what way a Captain proceeds, as long as there is in him such great virtu that it permits him to succeed with either method: for ((as has been said)) there are dangers and defects in both these methods, unless corrected by an extraordinary virtu. And if Scipio and Hannibal, one by praiseworthy means, the other by detestable ones, obtained the same results, it does not appear proper to me to omit the discussion also of two Roman Citizens who acquired the same glory by different methods, though both praiseworthy.

CHAPTER XXII

HOW THE HARSHNESS OF MANLIUS TORQUATUS AND THE HUMANITY OF VALERIUS CORVINUS ACQUIRED THE SAME GLORY FOR EACH

There were in Rome at the same time two excellent Captains, Manlius Torquatus and Valerius Corvinus, who, of equal virtu and of equal triumphs and glory, were living in Rome; and each of them, as far as pertained to the enemy, acquired them by equal virtu, but, as far as pertained to the armies and their treatment of soldiers, they proceeded most differently; for Manlius commanded his with every kind of severity, (subjecting them) without intermission to hard work and punishment; Valerius, on the other hand, treated them with every kind and degree of humanity, and full of affability. Thus it is seen that in order to obtain the obedience of his soldiers, one put to death even his own son, and the other never harmed anyone. None the less, in such difference of procedure, each reaped the same fruit, both against the enemy and in favor of the Republic, as well as in their own interests. For no soldier refused to fight, or rebelled against them, or was in any way opposed to their will; although the commands of Manlius were so harsh that all other decrees which exceeded the ordinary were called Manlian Decrees. Here it is to be considered, first, whence it came that Manlius was constrained to proceed so rigidly; next, whence it happened that Valerius was able to proceed so humanely; another, what was the reason that these different methods obtain the same result; and lastly, which of them is it better and more useful to imitate.

If anyone well considers the nature of Manlius, from when T. Livius began to make mention of him, he will see him a very strong man, gentle toward his father and his country, and most respectful to his elders. These things we know from the defense of his father against a Tribune, and from the slaying of that Gaul, and how before he went to fight the Gaul he went to the Consul with these words: I will never fight the enemy without your order, not even if certain victory is in view. When a man thus constituted comes to the rank of command, he desires to find all men like himself, and his strong spirit makes his commands as strong, and these same ((once they are commanded)) he wants observed. And it is a true ruler, that when harsh things are commanded, they must be made to be observed with harshness, otherwise you will find yourself deceived. Here it is to be noted that in wanting to be obeyed, it is necessary to know how to command, and those who know how to command are those who make a comparison of their strength with that of those who have to obey; and when they are seen to be in proper proportion, then they command, when out of proper proportion, they abstain. And, therefore, it was said by a prudent man, that to hold a Republic by violence it must be necessary that there be a proper proportion between he who forces and he who is forced. And anytime this proportion exists, it can be believed that that violent (regime) will endure. But when the oppressed is stronger than the oppressor, it can be feared that the violent (regime) should cease any day.

But returning to our discussion, I say that to give vigorous orders, one must be strong, and he who is of this strength and commands them, cannot then make them to be observed by gentle means: But he who is not of this strength of mind ought to guard himself from extraordinary decrees; but in the ordinary ones he can use his humanity, for ordinary punishments are not imputed to a Prince, but to laws and institutions. It ought therefore, to be believed that Manlius was constrained to proceed so rigorously by the extraordinary decrees of his, to which his nature inclined him, and which are useful in a Republic as it brings her back to her ancient virtu. And if one Republic should be so fortunate as to have often ((as we said above)) men who by their example restore the laws, and not only retain those which should not incur her ruin, but carry her in the opposite direction and perpetuate her existence. So that Manlius was one of those who by the harshness of his decrees retained the military discipline in Rome, constrained first by his nature, then by the desire he had for the observance of those (orders) which his natural temperament had made ordinary for him. On the other hand, Valerius was able to proceed humanely, as one to whom it sufficed that those things be observed which customarily were observed in the Roman armies. Which custom ((because it was good)) was enough to have him honored, and was not hard to be observed, and did not necessitate Valerius punishing the transgressors, as much because there weren’t any, as also, if there were any, they imputed ((as was said)) their punishment to the ordinances and not to the cruelty of the Prince. So that Valerius was able to arouse in himself every humaneness, from which he acquired the good will of his soldiers and their contentment. Whence it happens that both obtaining the same obedience, they were able to act differently and obtain the same results. Those who may want to imitate these men can be exposed to those vices of contempt and hatred, which as I have said above of Scipio and Hannibal, can be avoided by an excessive virtu which is in you, and not otherwise.

It remains now to be considered which of these methods of proceeding is more laudable, and this I believe is disputable, as writers praise both methods. None the less, those who write about how a Prince has to govern approach more toward Valerius than to Manlius, and Xenophon whom I have quoted before, in giving many examples of the humaneness of Cyrus, greatly conforms to what T. Livius says of Valerius. For when he was made Consul against the Samnites, and the day arriving when he was to do battle, he spoke to his soldiers with that humanity with which he governed them, and after relating this speech T. Livius says these words. No other leader was so familiar with his soldiers, sharing all burdens cheerfully, amongst even the lowest soldiers. In military exercises, he contested equally with his men, in tests of speed, and whether he won or was defeated, it was the same to him; nor did he ever object to any one who offered; in his actions he was benign in all things; in speech, he was no less concerned with the liberty of others, as of his own dignity; and in the arts of the magistrate, he acted as if he was their petitioner ((even though not of the people)). T. Livius similarly speaks honorably of Manlius, showing that the severity in putting his son to death made the army so obey the Consul, that it was the cause of the Roman people obtaining the victory over the Latins; and in fact he goes on to praise him, that after such a victory, he describes all the orders of battle and shows all the dangers to which the Roman people were exposed, and the difficulties that were encountered in the winning, and makes this conclusion, that only the virtu of Manlius gave the victory to the Romans: And making a comparison of the strengths of both armies, he affirms that the portion which had Manlius as Consul had gained the victory. So that considering everything that the writers have said, it is difficult to judge. None the less, so as not to leave this part undecided, I say, that in a citizen who lives under the laws of a Republic, I believe the procedure of Manlius is more praiseworthy and less dangerous, because this method is all in favor of the public, and does not regard in any part private ambitions; for by such a method, partisans cannot be acquired; showing himself harsh to everyone and loving only the common good, a (commander) does not acquire particular friends ((as we said above)), such as we call partisans, So that such methods of procedure cannot be more useful or of more value in a Republic, as it does not lack usefulness to the public, and there not being able to be any suspicion of private power. But in the method of procedure of Valerius the contrary is the case; for although the same effects are produced as far as the public is concerned, none the less, many apprehensions spring up because of the particular (individual) good will which he acquires with the soldiers having, in a long rule, had effects against (public) liberty. And if these bad effects did not happen with (Valerius) Publicola, the reason was that the minds of the Romans were not yet corrupt, and he had not been long and continuously governing them.

But if we have to consider a Prince, as Xenophon considers it, we must come near to Valerius in everything, and leave Manlius; for a Prince ought to seek obedience and love in his soldiers and subjects. Obedience will obtain for him their observance of the ordinances, and his being held a man of virtu: love will give him that affability, humanity, mercy, and all those other qualities which existed in Valerius, and which Xenophon writes also existed in Cyrus. For, a Prince being individually greatly desired, and having the army as his partisan, conforms with the other interests of the State. But in a citizen who has the army as his partisan, this part does not conform to the other institutions, which cause him to live under the laws and obey the Magistrates. Among the other ancient history of the Venetian Republic, it is to be read that when the Venetian galleys returned to Venice, a certain difference arose between the men of the galleys and the people, whereupon it came to tumults and arms; and the matter not being able to be quelled, either by the power of the ministers, or by the respect for the (principal) citizens, or by fear of the Magistrates, but as soon as a Gentleman who had been their captain the previous year appeared before the sailors, because of their love for him, they departed and left the fight. Which obedience excited the suspicions of the Senate so much, that soon afterwards the Venetians assured themselves of him by imprisonment and putting him to death.

I conclude, therefore, that the procedure of Valerius is useful in a Prince, but pernicious in a citizen, not only towards the country, but towards himself: to the country because these methods prepare the way for Tyranny: to himself, because his city becoming suspicious of the method of his proceeding, is constrained to assure itself with injury to him. And, on the other hand, I affirm the procedure of Manlius to be harmful in a Prince, but useful in a citizen and especially to the country; and although it rarely harms him, unless this hatred which it engenders be made more severe by the suspicions which your other virtues and great reputation inspire, as we will discuss below (speaking) of Camillus.

CHAPTER XXIII

FOR WHAT REASON CAMILLUS WAS DRIVEN OUT OF ROME

We have concluded above that proceeding as Valerius did is harmful to the country and to oneself, and proceeding as Manlius did is beneficial to the country, but sometimes harmful to oneself. This is very well proved by the example of Camillus, who in his proceedings resembled Manlius rather than Valerius. Whence T. Livius, speaking of him, says that He was hated by the soldiers, but was admired for his virtues, what kept him admired was the solicitude, the prudence, the greatness of mind, that good organization he observed in the operation and the command of the armies. What made him admired was his being more severe in castigating them than liberal in rewarding them. And T. Livius cites these reasons for the hatred: the first, that the money which was brought in from the goods of the Veienti which were sold, he applied to the public (treasury) and did not divide it with the plunder: the other, that in the triumph he had his triumphal carriage drawn by four white horses, where they said that from pride he had wanted to rival the sun: the third, that he made a vow to give Apollo the tenth part of the plunder from the Veienti, and which ((wanting to satisfy the vow)) he had to take from the hands of the soldiers who had already appropriated it.

Here those things can surely and easily be noted which make a Prince odious to his people, the principal one of which is to deprive them of something useful to them: which thing is of the greatest importance, because when a man is deprived of those things which are useful in themselves, he never forgets it, and every least necessity makes him remember; and because necessities happen every day, they remind you of them every day. The other thing is to appear haughty and presumptuous, which cannot be more odious to a people, and especially to a free people. And although this pomp and pride may not give rise to any inconvenience to them, none the less, it makes those who use them to be hated. From which a Prince ought to guard against as from a rock; for to draw hatred upon himself without profit to him, is entirely reckless and imprudent.

CHAPTER XXIV

THE PROLONGATION OF (MILITARY) COMMANDS MADE ROME SLAVE

If the proceedings of the Roman Republic is considered well, two things will be seen to have been the causes of the dissolution of that Republic: the one was the contentions that arose from the Agrarian law, the other the prolongation of the (military) Commands; if these matters had been well understood from the beginning, and proper remedies taken she would have existed free longer, and perhaps more tranquil. And although it is seen that the prolongation of Commands never caused any tumult to arise, none the less facts show how much that authority which the citizens took because of such decisions was harmful to the City. And if the other citizens for whom the Magistracy was prolonged had been wise and good, as was L. Quintius, this inconvenience would not have incurred. His goodness is a notable example; for when the terms of an accord were completed between the Plebs and the Senate, and the Plebs having prolonged the Commands of the Tribunes for a year, because they judged it would help to enable them to resist the ambitions of the Nobles, the Senate wanted, in competition with the Plebs not to appear less (powerful) than they, to prolong the Consulship of L. Quintius; but he completely negated this decision, saying that they should seek to destroy the evil example not to increase their number with other worse examples, and he desired they create new Consuls. If this goodness and prudence had existed in all the Roman citizens, they would never have allowed that custom of prolonging the Magistracies to be introduced, which in time ruined that Republic.

The first to whom the Command was extended was P. Philo, who being at the siege of the City of Paleopolis, and the end of his Consulship having arrived, and as it appeared to the Senate that he had the victory in hand, they did not send him a successor but made him Proconsul. So that he was the first Proconsul. Which thing ((although it was moved by the Senate as being useful to the public)) was what in time brought Rome to servitude. For the further away the Romans sent their armies (from Rome), so much more did such prolongations appear necessary, and the more they employed them. This caused two evils. The one, that a smaller number of men were given experience in the Command (of armies), and, because of this, reputation (authority) came to be restricted to a few: the other, that a citizen being a command of an army for a long time, he gained it over to himself and made it his partisan, for that army in time forgot the Senate and recognized him as chief. Because of this Sulla and Marius were able to find soldiers willing to follow them against the public good. Because of this Caesar was able to seize the country. Thus, if the Romans had not prolonged the Magistracies and Commands, although she would not have come to so great power, and her conquests would have been slower, she would also have come to her servitude more slowly.

CHAPTER XXV

OF THE POVERTY OF CINCINNATUS AND MANY ROMAN CITIZENS

We have argued elsewhere that the most useful thing which is established in a republic is that its Citizens are to be kept poor. And although there did not appear to be those ordinances in Rome which would have that effect ((the Agrarian law especially having had so much opposition)) none the less, from experience, it is seen that even after four hundred years after Rome had been founded, there still existed a very great poverty; nor can it be believed that any other great institution caused this effect than to observe that poverty did not impede the way (to you) to any rank or honor, and that merit and virtu could be found in any house they lived in. Which manner of living made riches less desirable. This is manifestly seen when the Consul Minitius with his army was besieged by the Equeans, Rome was full of apprehension that the army should be lost, so that they had recourse to the creation of a Dictator, their last remedy in times of affliction. And they created L. Quintius Cincinnatus (Dictator), who was then to be found on his little farm, which he worked with his own hands. Which event is celebrated in words of gold by T. Livius, saying, Let everyone not listen to those who prefer riches to everything else in the world and who think there is neither honor nor virtu where wealth does not flow. Cincinnatus was working on his little farm, which did not exceed beyond four jugeri, when the Legate came from Rome to announce to him his election to the Dictatorship, and to show him in what peril the Roman Republic found itself. He put on his toga, went to Rome and gathered an army, and went to liberate Minitius; and having routed and despoiled the army, and freed that man (Minitius), he did not want the besieged army to share in the booty, saying these words to them: I do not want you to share in the booty of those to whom you had been about to become prey; and he deprived Minitius of the Consulship, and made him Legate, saying to him: You will remain in this grade until you have learned to be Consul.

He (Cincinnatus) had made L. Tarquinius master of his cavalry, who because of his poverty fought on foot. It is to be noted here ((as has been said)) the honor which was given to poverty in Rome, and how to a good and valiant man, as was Cincinnatus, four jugeri of land was enough to support him. Which poverty was also seen (to be honored) in the times of Marcus Regulus, for when he was in Africa with the armies, he asked permission of the Senate to be able to return to look after his farm, which was being spoiled by his laborers. Here two notable things are to be observed: one, how they were content to remain in such poverty, and that it was enough for those citizens to obtain honors from war, and to leave all the useful things to the public; for if they thought of enriching themselves from the war, they would have given little concern to their fields being spoiled. The other is to consider the generosity of spirit of those citizens who, when placed in charge of an army, rose above every Prince through the greatness of their souls; they not esteeming Kings or Republics, nor did anything dismay or frighten them, and afterwards when they returned to private life, they became frugal, humble, carers of their small facilities, obedient to the Magistrates, reverent to their elders, so that it appears almost impossible that the same mind should be able to bear such changes. This poverty lasted even up to the times of Paulus Emilius, which were about the last of the happy times of that Republic, when a citizen who had enriched Rome with his triumph, none the less kept himself poor. And so much was this poverty still esteemed, that Paulus in honoring those who conducted themselves well in the war, presented his son-in-law with a silver cup, which was the first (piece of) silver that came into his house.

And I could demonstrate with a long discussion how many better fruits are produced by poverty than are by riches; and that the first has honored Cities, Provinces, Sects, while the other has ruined them, — if this matter had not been many times illustrated by other men.

CHAPTER XXVI

HOW A STATE IS RUINED BECAUSE OF WOMEN

A difference arose in the City of Ardea between the Patricians and the Plebians, because of a marriage contract, in which an heiress about to be married, was asked for at the same time by a Plebeian and a Noble; and as she did not have a father, her guardians wanted to unite her to the Plebeian, her mother to the Noble: and such a tumult arose from this that they came to arms; in which all the Nobility armed themselves in favor of the Noble, and all the Plebeians in favor of the Plebeian. So that the Plebs being overcome, they went out from Ardea and sent to the Volscians for aid, while the Nobles sent to Rome. The Volscians arriving first, surrounded Ardea and besieged it. When the Romans arrived, they shut in the Volscians between the town and themselves, so that they constrained them ((being pressed by hunger)) to surrender themselves at discretion. And when the Roman entered the City, they put to death all the heads of the sedition, and restored order in that City. There are several things to note in this text. First it is seen that Women have been the cause of many ruinations, and have done great damage to those who govern a City, and have caused many divisions in them: and ((as has been seen in our history)) the excess committed against Lucretia deprived the Tarquins of their State; and the other committed against Virginia deprived the Ten (Decemvirs) of their authority. And Aristotle, among the first causes of the ruin of the Tyrants, places the injury they committed on Women, either by seduction, by violence, or corruption of marriages, as we have discussed this subject at length in the Chapter in which we treated of Conspiracies.

I say, therefore, that absolute Princes and governors of Republics do not have to take little account of this subject, but ought to consider the disorders which may arise from such incidents, and remedy them in time that it does not injure and disgrace their State or Republic; as happened to the Ardeans, who, for allowing the rivalry to increase among their citizens, were led to become divided among themselves, and wanting to reunite, had to send for outside succor, which is a great beginning to a sure servitude. But let us come to another notable way of reuniting a City, of which we will treat in the next chapter.

CHAPTER XVII

HOW A DIVIDED CITY IS TO BE UNITED, AND HOW THAT OPINION IS NOT TRUE WHICH SUPPOSES THAT IT IS NECESSARY TO KEEP A CITY DISUNITED IN ORDER TO HOLD IT

From the example of the Roman Consuls who reconciled together the Ardeans, the method is to be noted of how a divided City ought to have its order restored, which is none other than to kill the leaders of the tumults, and it is not otherwise to be cured, and it is necessary to take one of three ways: either to kill them as the Romans did, or to remove them from the City, or for them to make peace together under an obligation not to offend each other again. Of these three methods this last is the most harmful, less certain, and more useless; for it is impossible where much blood has run or other similar injuries inflicted that a peace made by force should endure; for seeing themselves together face to face each day, it is difficult that they should abstain from injuring each other, as new causes for quarrel can arise among themselves because of their intercourse every day. A better example of this cannot be given than that of the City of Pistoia.

Fifteen years before, that City was divided ((as it is now)) into the Panciatichi and Cancellieri, but at that time they were under arms, and today they have laid them down. And after many disputes among themselves they came to bloodshed, to the razing of houses, at plundering possessions, and to every other kind of enmity. And the Florentines who had to restore order to them, always employed this third method, and always there arose serious tumults and troubles: so that, becoming weary they came to employ the second method of removing the Leaders of the parties, of whom some they imprisoned and others they exiled to various places, in order that accord could exist, and has existed to this day. But without doubt, the most secure would have been the first method. But as this has need of power and courage, a weak Republic does not know how to accomplish it, and they go so far afield, that the effort required induces them to the second method.

And these are some of those errors, of which I spoke in the beginning, that the Princes of our time make, who, when they have to judge serious matters, ought to want to see how the ancients governed who had to judge in similar cases. But the weakness of present day men, caused by their feeble education and little knowledge of affairs, makes them regard the ancient judgments as partly inhuman, partly impossible of application. And certainly their modern opinions are very far from the truth, as those which the wise men of our City said at one time, that is, That it was necessary to hold Pistoia by parties, and Pisa by fortresses: and they do not see how useless are both of these methods. I want to omit talking of fortresses, as we have talked of them above at length, but I want to discuss the uselessness that results from the holding of towns by having a divided government. First it is impossible for a Prince or a Republic to maintain both old parties. For, by nature it is given to men to take sides in any difference of opinion, and for them to prefer the one more than the other. So that, having one party of the town discontented, the first occasion of war will cause you to lose it, for it is impossible to guard a City that has enemies outside and inside. If it is a government of a Republic, there is no better way to make your citizens bad, and to make your City divided, than to have a division of parties in the City; for each side seeks to obtain aid, and by corruption of every king to make friends for themselves. So that two very great evils arise. The one, that you do not make friends of them because you are not able to govern well, often changing the government, now with one humor, now with another. The other, that such favoring of parties of necessity keeps your Republic divided. And Biondo (the historian) speaking of the Florentines and Pistoians gives testimony when he says, While the Florentines were endeavoring to reunite Pistoia, they divided themselves. The evils that arise from such division, therefore, can easily be seen. In the year one thousand five hundred and one (1501) when Arezzo was lost, and all the Val Di Tevere and Val Di Chiana were occupied by the Vitelli and the Duke Valentino, there came a Monsignor Di Lante sent by the King of France to cause a restitution to be made of all the towns they had lost; and Lante finding in the castles only men who, in visiting them, said they were of the party of Marzocco, censured this division most severely, saying that, if in France any one of the subjects should say he was of the King’s party, he would be castigated, because such a remark would signify nothing else other than there should be forces hostile to the King in that town, and that the King wanted all the towns to be friendly, united, and without parties. But all these methods and opinions that differ from the truth, arise from the weakness of those who are the Lords, who, seeing they are unable to hold the State by force and virtu, turn to similar expedients, which some times in times of tranquillity may be of some benefit, but with the advent of hard times, their fallacy is demonsrated.

CHAPTER XXVIII

THAT THE ACTIONS OF CITIZENS OUGHT TO BE OBSERVED, FOR MANY TIMES A BEGINNING OF TYRANNY IS HIDDEN UNDER A PIOUS ACT

The City of Rome was afflicted by a famine, and as the public provisions were not enough to end it, one Spurius Melius, who was very rich according to those times, had the mind of privately making a provision of grain and feed the plebs at his expense. For which thing a great assembly of people gave him their favor, that the Senate thinking of the evil that could arise from that liberality of his, and in order to suppress it before it should gather greater strength, created a Dictator against him, who had him put to death. Here it is to be noted that many times actions that appear merciful, and which cannot be reasonably condemned, may become cruel, and very dangerous to a Republic if not corrected at the proper time. And to discuss this matter in more detail, I say that a Republic cannot exist without Citizens of repute, nor govern itself well in any way. On the other hand, the reputation of such Citizens is the cause of tyranny in Republics. And in order to regulate this thing, it (the Republic) needs to be so organized, that the reputation of Citizens be based on the benefits it gives to the City and not on any harm to it and its liberty. And, therefore, the methods with which they assume reputation ought to be examined, and these, in effect, are two, either public or private. The public methods are when one acquires reputation by counselling well and acting well for the common benefit. The way to such honors ought to be opened to every Citizen, and rewards proposed for their good counsels and good works, so that they may obtain honors and be satisfied: and when such reputation is obtained through these pure and simple ways, it will never be dangerous: but when it is obtained through a private way ((which is the other method mentioned)) it is most dangerous and wholly harmful. The private ways are by doing good to this and that private individual by lending them money, marrying their daughters, defending them in front of Magistrates, and doing them similar private favors, which make men partisans, and give encouragement to whoever is thus favored to be able to corrupt the public and break the laws. A well organized Republic ought, therefore, to open the ways ((as has been said)) to whoever seeks favors through public means, and close them to whoever seeks them through public means, as was seen that Rome did; for as a reward to whoever acts well for the public she ordered triumphs and all the other honors which she gave to its Citizens; and she ordered accusations be brought against whoever, under various pretexts of theirs, by private means sought to make themselves powerful: and when these did not suffice because of the people being blinded by a species of false benefits, they ordered (the creation of) a Dictator, who, (armed) with Regal power made those who had gone astray to return within the fold, as she did in punishing Spurius Melius. And if one of these is allowed impunity, it is apt to ruin a Republic, as, with that as an example, it will be difficult to return later to the true path.

CHAPTER XXIX

THAT THE FAULTS OF THE PEOPLE ARISE FROM THE PRINCES.

Princes should not complain of any fault that is committed by the People who are under their authority, for such faults result either from their negligence or because they are stained by similar faults. And whoever discusses those people who in our time have been given to robberies and similar faults, will see that these arise entirely from those who govern them, who were of a similar nature. The Romagna, before those Lords who ruled her were crushed by Pope Alexander VI, was an example of all the most criminal life, as here a great many killings and robberies were seen to happen for any slight reason. Which resulted from the wickedness of the Princes, and not from the wicked nature of men, as was said. For those Princes being poor, but wanting to live as rich men, were forced to turn themselves to many robberies and employ various methods in doing them. And among the other dishonest means they employed, they made laws and prohibited some activities, then they were the first who give cause for their non-observance, and they never punished the non-observers except when they saw there were many others guilty of the same, and then they turned to punishing them, not from any zeal for the law which was enacted, but from the cupidity (for money) expected from commuting the penalty. Whence many evils arose; and, above all of them, that the people were impoverished without being corrected, and those who were impoverished endeavored to make good (their losses) from those less powerful. Whence all those evils sprung up that were mentioned above, of which the Prince was the cause. And that this is true, T. Livius shows when he narrates, how, when the Roman legates brought the gift of the booty of the Veienti to Apollo, they were seized by the corsairs of Lipari in Sicily, and carried to that land. And Timastheus, their Prince, learning what gift this was, where it was going, and who was sending it, conducted himself ((although born in Lipari)) as a Roman, and showed his people how impious it was to seize such a gift. So that by general consent, he allowed the Legates to go with all their things. And the words of the historians are these: Timasitheus implanted religion in the multitude, who always imitate their rulers. And Lorenzo De’Medici in confirmation of this opinion says:

   And that which the Lord does, many then do,
     Whose eyes are always turned on their Lord.

CHAPTER XXX

FOR A CITIZEN WHO WANTS TO DO SOME GOOD DEED IN HIS REPUBLIC ON HIS OWN AUTHORITY, IT IS FIRST NECESSARY TO EXTINGUISH ENVY; AND HOW THE DEFENSE OF A CITY OUGHT TO BE ORGANIZED ON THE COMING OF THE ENEMY

The Roman Senate learning that Tuscany had made new levies to come to attack Rome, and that the Latins and the Hemicians, who had been in the past friends of the Roman people, had allied themselves with the Volscians, the perpetual enemies of Rome, judged that this war would be a dangerous one. And Camillus, finding himself Tribune with consular power, thought he would be able to do without creating a Dictator, if the other Tribunes, his colleagues, would yield the supreme Command to him. Which the other Tribunes did voluntarily. Believing ((says Livius)) that this would not detract from their authority, conceded that authority to him. Whence Camillus taking this consent at its word, commanded that three armies should be raised. The first he wanted to Head and go against the Tuscans: the second, of which he made Quintus Servilius Head, he wanted kept near Rome to restrain the Latins and Hemicians if they should make a move. The third, he placed Lucius Quintus at its Head, and was to serve to keep the City guarded, (and) to defend the gates and the Curia (Senate) in any event that might arise. In addition to this, he ordered that Horatius, one of his colleagues, should provide arms and grain and all the other things requested in times of war. He placed Cornelius, also a colleague of his, in charge of the Senate and the public council, so that he should be able to counsel what actions were to be taken and executed daily. Thus were the Tribunes in those times disposed to command and obey where the safety of the country was involved. It is to be noted from this test what a good and wise man does, and of what good he is the cause, and how much usefulness he can accomplish for his country, when, by his goodness and virtu, he has extinguished envy; this, many times, is the reason that men are not able to act well, the said envy not permitting them to have that authority which is necessary to have in important events.

This envy can be extinguished in two ways: either by some extraordinary and difficult incident, where everyone seeing himself about to perish, lays aside every ambition and runs voluntarily to obey him who he believes can, by his virtu, liberate him; as happened to Camillus, who, having given many proofs (of himself) of being a most excellent man, hand having been made Dictator three times, and having always employed that rank for public usefulness and not for his own advantage, had caused men not to fear his power; and as he was as powerful as he was reputed to be, they did not esteem it a disgrace to be inferior to him. And therefore Titus Livius wisely spoke those words, Believing that this, etc. The other way of extinguishing envy is, when either by violence or by natural orders, those men die who have been your rivals in arriving at some reputation and power, and who on seeing you reputed more than they, find it impossible ever to acquiesce and remain patient. And, if there are men accustomed to live in a corrupt City, where education has not resulted in any goodness in them, it is impossible that they should be restrained by any accident: but so as to obtain their desires and satisfy their perversity of mind, they would be content to see the ruin of their country. To overcome such envy, there is no other remedy than the death of those who have it: and when fortune is so propitious to that man of virtu as to make them die naturally, he becomes glorious without trouble, and may then display his virtu without any obstacle and without offense to anyone. But when he does not have such good fortune, he must think of every way to cut them off beforehand, and before he does anything he needs to overcome this difficulty. And whoever reads the Bible attentively, will see Moses, in wanting that his laws and his orders be observed, was forced to kill an infinite number of men who opposed his designs, moved by nothing else other than envy. Brother Girolamo Savonarola recognized this very well: Pietro Soderini, Gonfalonier of Florence also recognized it. The one would not overcome it because he did not have the authority to be able to do it, and this was the Brother; but because he was not well understood by those who followed him, he did not have the authority. None the less, he did all he could, and his preachings are full of accusations and invective against the wise of the world, for he thus called the envious and those who opposed his doctrines. The other (Soderini) believed that with time, with goodness, with his good fortune, and by benefiting some, to be able to extinguish this envy; seeing himself young and with so many new favors that his method of proceeding were adding to him, he believed he could overcome the many who opposed him from envy, without any trouble, violence, and tumult: but he did not know that time cannot wait, goodness is not enough, fortune changes, and malignity does not find gifts which placate it. So that both of these men were ruined, and their ruin was caused by their not having known how or having been able to overcome this envy.

The other thing to be noted is the orders given by Camillus, both inside and outside the City, for the safety of Rome. Truly and not without reason good historians ((as is our T. Livius)) wrote distinctly and in detail of certain cases, so that future people may learn how they have to defend themselves in similar incidents. And it ought to be noted from this text that there is no more dangerous or more useless defense than that which is done tumultuously and without order. And this is shown by that third army which Camillus had raised to have in Rome to guard that City; for many had judged and still would judge this part to be superfluous, since that people were warlike and ordinarily armed, and therefore it was not necessary to raise it as it was enough to have the citizens armed when the need should arise. But Camillus, and whoever was as wise as he was, judged otherwise; for he never permitted a multitude to take up arms except with certain orders and in a certain way. And, therefore, based on this example, one in charge of guarding a City ought to avoid as a dangerous rock the arming of men tumultuously, but ought first to have enrolled and chosen those he wants armed, and whom they must obey, where are the places of assembly, and where they are to go; and to command those who are not enrolled to remain in their homes to guard them. Those who follow these orders in a City under attack, are able easily to defend themselves: those who do otherwise do not imitate Camillus, and will not be able to defend themselves.

CHAPTER XXXI

STRONG REPUBLICS AND EXCELLENT MEN RETAIN THE SAME COURAGE AND DIGNITY IN ANY FORTUNE

Among the other admirable things that our historian has Camillus say in order to show how an excellent man ought to be constituted, he puts these words in his mouth: My Dictatorship neither gave me courage, nor did my exile diminish it. By which words it is seen how great men are always the same in any fortune; and if it should change, exalting him now, oppressing him then, he does not change but always keeps his courage, and this is joined with his way of living so that everyone easily knows that fortune does not have power over him. Weak men conduct themselves otherwise; for becoming vain and inebriated by good fortune, they attribute all the good that they obtained to that virtu which they will never know: Whence it arises that they become unbearable and odious to all those who are around them. And when there is a sudden change of fortune, as soon as they come face to face with the cause, they come quickly into that other defect, and become vile and abject. From which it happens that Princes thus constituted, in adversity, think more of fleeing than of defending themselves, like those who, for having ill used that good fortune, are unprepared for any defense (against a reverse). This virtu and this vice which I say are found in an individual, are also found in a Republic, and in example there are the Romans and the Venetians.

No ill fortune ever made the Romans become abject, nor did good fortune ever make them become insolent, as was manifestly seen after the defeat they experienced at Cannae, and after the victory they obtained against Antiochus: for this defeat, although it was most grave for having been the third one, never made them cowardly, but sent out new armies: they did not want to go against their institutions by ransoming their prisoners, nor did they send to Hannibal or Carthage to seek peace: but keeping out all these abject thoughts, they thought always of (continuing) the war, arming old men and slaves for want of men. When this thing became known to Hanno, the Carthaginian, ((as was said above)) he pointed out to that Senate how little account they (the Romans) took of the defeat at Cannae. And thus it is seen that times of difficulty did not dismay them or render them humble. On the other hand, prosperous times did not make them insolent; for when Antiochus, before they had come to the battle with them, and in which he had been defeated, sent ambassadors to Scipio seeking an accord, (and) Scipio gave him certain conditions for peace, which were that he should retire inside Syria, and leave the rest (of the country) to the control of the Romans: Which accord Antiochus refused, and coming to battle, and losing it, he again sent ambassadors to Scipio with the commission that they should accept all those conditions which were given them by the victor: to whom he (Scipio) did not propose other terms than those which he had offered before he he had won, adding these words: The Romans do not lose their courage when defeated, nor become insolent when they win.

The opposite of this was seen to be done by the Venetians, who, in good fortune ((which they seemed to think they gained by that virtu which they did not have)), had come to such insolence that they called the King of France a son of Saint Mark, they did not respect the Church, nor recognize any other (power) in Italy, and had presupposed in their minds the creation of an empire similar to the Roman one. Afterwards, when good fortune abandoned them, and they suffered a partial defeat at Vaila at the hands of the King of France, they not only lost all their State by rebellion, but, through cowardice and abjection of spirit, gave a good part (of their territory) to both the Pope and the King of Spain, and were so demoralized that they sent ambassadors and made themselves tributary to him, and wrote letters full of humility and submission to the Pope in order to move him to compassion. To which infelicity they came in four days, and after only a partial defeat; for their army, after having fought, in the retreat about half of it was attacked and beaten, so that only one of the Proveditori who saved himself, arrived in Verona with more than twenty five thousand soldiers, both horse and foot. So that if there had been any kind of virtu in Venice and in their institutions, they could easily have reorganized and shown a new face to their fortune, and would have been in time either to have won or lost more gloriously, or to have obtained a more honorable accord. But the baseness of their spirit, caused by the bad quality of their military organization, made them lose at a single blow their courage and their State. And thus it will always happen to whoever is governed as they were; for this becoming insolent in good fortune, and abject in bad, arises from your mode of procedure and from the education in which you are raised, which, when they are weak and vain makes you likewise, but when it has been otherwise, makes you also otherwise; it will make you know the world better, less joyful in good fortune, and less depressed in bad (fortune). And that which is said of an individual, is said also of the many who live in a Republic, and who will perfect themselves according to the manner in which they live there.

And although at another time it has been said that the foundation of all States is a good military organization, and that where this does not exist there cannot be any good laws or any other good thing, it does not appear superfluous to me to repeat it; for the necessity of this is seen to appear at every point in the reading of this history; and it is seen that the military organization cannot be good unless it is disciplined, and that it cannot be done unless it is composed of your subjects. For a State is not always at war, or can be: therefore it must be able to train troops in times of peace, and this cannot be done with others except subjects on account of the expense. Camillus had gone out with the army ((as we said above)) against the Tuscans, and his soldiers, having seen the size of the enemy army, were all dismayed, as they deemed themselves inferior and unable to sustain their (enemy’s) attack. And this bad disposition of the troops coming to the ears of Camillus, he showed himself outside, and going about the camp, he spoke to this soldier and that one, and then without making any change in arrangements, he said: What every man has learned and is accustomed to do, let him do it. And whoever considers these circumstances well, and the words he said to reanimate them to go against the enemy, will realize that he could neither say nor do any of those things to the army, unless it had first been organized and trained both in peace and in war. For a Captain cannot trust those soldiers who have not learned to do anything or believe that they will do anything well. And if a new Hannibal were to command them, he yet would be ruined; for a Captain ((while the engagement is going on)) cannot be in every place, and unless he has first disciplined them to have the same spirit as himself, and trained them well in his method of proceeding, of necessity it must happen that he be ruined. If, therefore, a City would be armed and organized as Rome, and its citizens every day both privately and publicly are required to make a test of their virtu and the power of fortune, it will always happen that they will maintain the same courage and dignity as the Romans under similar conditions. But if they are disarmed and rely only on the vagaries of fortune, and not on their own virtu, they will change with changes of fortune, and will give of themselves the same example as the Venetians had given.

CHAPTER XXXII

WHAT MEANS SOME HAVE HAD TO DISTURB A PEACE

Circea and Velitrae, two of her (Roman) colonies, having rebelled from the Roman people, under the hope of being defended by the Latins, and the Latins afterwards having been defeated, they were deprived of that hope, many citizens counselled that Ambassadors be sent to Rome to submit themselves to the Senate; which proceeding was disturbed by those who had been the authors of the rebellion, who feared that all the punishment would fall on their heads. And to take away all discussion of peace, they incited the multitude to arm themselves and make incursions into the confines of Rome. And truly, if anyone sees a People or a Prince abandon all idea of an accord, there is no other more sure or more effective way, than to make them commit some grave wickedness against those with whom you do not want the accord made. For the fear of that punishment which seems to them to be merited because of the error they committed will always keep them apart. After the first war that the Carthaginians fought with the Romans, those soldiers who had been employed by the Carthaginians in that war in Sicily and Sardinia, as soon as peace was made, went to Africa; where, not being satisfied with their stipend, turned their arms against the Carthaginians, and creating two chiefs for themselves, Mathus and Spendius, they occupied many towns of the Carthaginians, and sacked many of them. The Carthaginians, in order to try every other means than battle, sent their citizen Hasdrubal as an ambassador to them, thinking he should have some influence with them as he had been their Captain in the past. And when he arrived, Mathus and Spendius wanting to oblige all those soldiers never to have peace again with the Carthaginians and therefore to oblige them to make war, persuaded them it was better to kill him together with all the other Carthaginians who were their prisoners. Whereupon they not only killed them, but first tore them to pieces with a thousand torments, adding to this wickedness and edict that all Carthaginians who might be taken in the future, should be killed in similar fashion. Which decision and execution made that contest against the Carthaginians cruel and obstinate.

CHAPTER XXXIII

IN WANTING TO WIN AN ENGAGEMENT, IT IS NECESSARY TO MAKE THE ARMY HAVE CONFIDENCE BOTH IN THEMSELVES AND IN THEIR CAPTAIN

In wanting an army to win an engagement, it is necessary to make it confident so that it believes it ought to win in any circumstance. The things that make it confident are, that it be well armed and organized, and each man should know the other. Nor can this confidence or discipline result unless those soldiers are natives and live together. It is necessary also that the Captain be esteemed in a way that they have confidence in his prudence, and will always consider him so when they see him orderly, watchful, and courageous, and maintains the majesty of his rank by a good reputation: and he will always maintain it when he punishes their errors, does not fatigue then in vain, observes his promises to them, and shows them that the path to victory is easy, and conceals and makes light of those dangers which he is able to discern from afar. Which things well observed are good reasons why the army becomes confident, and being confident, wins. The Romans used to make their armies assume this confidence by way of Religion, whence it happened that they created Consuls, levied troops, sent out the armies, and came to the engagement, by the use of auguries and auspices: and without doing these things a good and wise Captain would never hazard any action, thinking he could easily lose it if his soldiers should not first have learned that the Gods were on their side. And if any Consul or other Captain had fought contrary to the auspices, they would have punished him as they punished Claudius Pulcher. And although this part is observed in all Roman histories, none the less it is most certainly proved by the words Livius put in the mouth of Appius Claudius, who, complaining to the people of the insolence of the Tribunes of the plebs, points out how, by their means, the auspices and other things pertinent to Religion were corrupted, says thusly: It pleases them now to deride religion; Do they not care if the fowl are fed, or if they come out of their cages slowly? These things are small; but small things are not to be condemned. By them our ancestors made this Republic great. For in these little things is the strength to hold the soldiers united and confident, which are the principal causes of every victory. None the less it is necessary that these things be accompanied by virtu, otherwise they are of no value.

The Praenestines, having taken the field against the Roman army, they went to encamp on the river Allia, the place where the Romans had been overcome by the Gauls. They did this in order to put confidence in their soldiers, and to frighten the Romans because of the fortune of the place. And although this proceeding of theirs was probable for those reasons that have been discovered above, none the less the way the event turned out showed that true virtu does not fear every least incident. The historian expresses this well with the words placed in the mouth of the Dictator, who speaks thusly to his Master of the horse: You see the enemy, trusting to fortune, placed on the Allia; and you, trusting to arms and valor, attack the center of their battle line. For a real virtu, a good organization, a sureness derived from so many victories, cannot be extinguished in a moment; nor does a vain thing make them fear, or a disorder injure them; as is certainly seen where the two Consuls Manlius, when they were going against the Volscians, foolishly sent part of their camp to pillage the country, it happened that at the same time, both those who had gone out and those who remained found themselves besieged; from which danger, it was not the prudence of the Consuls, but the virtu of the soldiers themselves which freed them. Whence Titus Livius says these words: The soldiers, even without a leader, were saved by their own virtu. I do not want to omit an expedient employed by Fabius, when he first entered into Tuscany with his army in order to make them confident, as he judged such confidence more necessary in leading them into a new country and against new enemies, he addressed his soldiers before the battle, and after giving them many reasons through which they could hope for victory, he said he could also tell them other good things which would make their victory certain, except that it would be dangerous to reveal them. This method so wisely used, also merits to be imitated.

CHAPTER XXXIV

WHAT FAME OR VOICE OR OPINION WHICH A PEOPLE MAKE BEGINS TO FAVOR A CITIZEN; AND WHETHER THEY DISTRIBUTE THE MAGISTRACIES WITH GREATER PRUDENCE THAN A PRINCE

At another time we have spoken of how Titus Manlius, who was afterwards called Torquatus, saved L. Manlius, his father, from an accusation that had been made against him by Marcus Pomponius, Tribune of the Plebs. And although the manner of saving him was somewhat violent and extraordinary, none the less, that filial piety toward the father was so agreeable to the general public, that not only was he not censured, but when they had to create Tribunes of the legions, T. Manlius was named to the second place. This success, I believe, should make the manner to be considered well, in which the people have to judge men in their distribution of offices, and because of this we see whether what had been concluded above is true, that the people are better distributors of offices than a Prince. I say, therefore, that the people in their distribution are guided by what is said of one by the public voice and fame, even if by his noted deeds he appears different; or by the preconceptions or opinion which are had of him. Which two things are caused either by the fathers of such men who had been great and valiant men in the City and so it was believed that the sons ought to be like them, until the contrary is found out by their deeds; or by the opinion that the speaker holds. The better means that can be employed is to have as companions serious men, of good habits, and reputed wise by everyone. And because no better index can be had of a man than the companion with whom he keeps company, and meritedly one who keeps company with honest companions acquires a good name, for it is impossible that he does not have some similitude with them. Or truly this public fame is acquired by some extraordinary and notable act, even though it may be a private matter, which has turned out honorably. And of all these three things, which in the beginning give a good reputation to one, none gives it best than this last; for the first is based on relatives and fathers, and is so fallacious, that it comes to men so slowly and in a little while is consumed if the individual virtu of that man who is to be judged does not accompany him. The second, which makes you known by way of your practices, is better then the first, but is much inferior to the third; for until some sign arising from you is seen, your reputation is founded on opinion, which is most easy to stamp out. But that third, being begun and founded on your actions, gives you such a name in the beginning that it will be necessary that you many times do contrary deeds if you want to destroy it. Men who are born in a Republic ought, therefore, to adopt this last course and endeavor to begin to elevate themselves by some extraordinary action.

This is what many of the young men did in Rome, either by promulgating a law that served some common usefulness, or by accusing some prominent citizen as a transgressor of the laws, or by doing some similar new and notable things for which he is talked about. Not only are such things necessary in order to begin to give oneself reputation, but they are also necessary to maintain and increase it. And to want to do this, it is necessary to repeat them, as Titus Manlius did in his entire lifetime; for, having defended his father so extraordinarily and with so much virtu, and because of this act acquired this original reputation, and after a few years he fought that Gaul and, killing him, took from his that chain of gold which gave him the name of Torquatus. This was not enough for him, for afterwards when he was already of mature age, he killed his own son for having fought without permission, even though he had defeated the enemy. Which three acts gave him fame at that time, and will make him more celebrated for all the centuries to come, than all the victories and all the triumphs with which he was honored, as much as any other Roman, gave him. And the reason is, that in that victory Manlius had very many rivals, but in these particular acts he did not have any or only a very few. The elder Scipio did not gain as much glory with all his triumphs as was given him by his having defended his father on the Ticino while a youth, and be having, after the defeat at Cannae, animatedly with bloody sword made many young Romans swear that they would not abandon their country, as they had already decided; which two acts were the beginning of his reputation, and made for him the ladder for the triumphs of Spain and Africa. Which opinion was also increased by him when, in Spain, he sent back a daughter to her father and a wife to her husband. Such conduct is necessary not only for those Citizens who want to acquire fame in order to obtain honors in their Republic, but is also necessary for Princes to enable them to maintain their reputation in their Principality; for nothing makes itself so esteemed as his giving some example of some rare deed or saying concerning the common good, which show the lord to be magnanimous, liberal, or just, and which is such that it becomes as a proverb among his subjects, But to return whence we begun this discussion, I say, that when the people begin to bestow a rank upon one of its Citizens, if founded on those three reasons mentioned above, it is not badly founded: but when, however, the many examples of his good conduct make him more noted, it is better founded; for in such a case they are almost never deceived. I speak only of those ranks that are given to men in the beginning, and before they are known from firm experience, and before they pass from one act to another dissimilar one. Here, both as to false opinion and corruption, the people always make smaller errors that do Princes. Although it could happen that the people might be deceived by the fame, opinions, and acts of a man, esteeming them greater than, in truth, they are; which does not happen to a Prince, for he would be told and advised of it by those who counsel him; for although the people do not lack these counsels, yet the good organizers of Republic have arranged that, when appointments have to be made to the highest offices of the City, where it would be dangerous to place inadequate men, and where it is seen that the popular will is directed toward naming some that might be inadequate, it be allowed to every citizen, and it should be imputed to his glory, to make public in the assemblies to defects of that one (named for public office), so that the people ((lacking knowledge of him)) can better judge. And that such was the custom in Rome is witnessed by the speech of Fabius Maximus which he made to the people in the second Punic war, when in the creation of consuls their favors turned to the creation of T. Otacilius: and Fabius judging him inadequate to govern in the Consulship in those times, spoke against him and turned the favor of the people to one who merited it more than he. The people, therefore, in the election of Magistrates judge according to the best evidence that they can obtain, and err less than Princes: and the Citizen who desires to begin to obtain the favor of the people ought to gain it for himself ((as T. Manlius did)) by some notable deed.

CHAPTER XXXV

WHAT DANGERS OCCUR IN MAKING ONESELF HEAD IN COUNSELLING A THING, AND HOW MUCH THE DANGER INCREASES WHEN IT IS AN EXTRAORDINARY THING

It would be too lengthy and important a matter to discuss here what a dangerous thing it is to make oneself Head of a new thing which relates to many people, and how difficult it is to direct and achieve it, and having achieved it to maintain it: reserving it to a more convenient place, therefore, I will speak only of those dangers that Citizens are exposed to in counselling a Prince to make himself head of a grave and important decision in such a manner that the entire counsel given him is imputed to him. For as men judge a matter by its result, all the evil that may result is imputed to the author of the counsel, but if the result is good he is commended, but the reward does not counterbalance by far the punishment. The present Sultan Selim, called the Grand Turk, having prepared himself ((according to what was reported by some who came from his country)) to make an enterprise against Syria and Egypt, was advised by one of his Pashas whom he had stationed at the borders of Persia, to go against the Sofi (Shah): motivated by this counsel, he went on that enterprise with a very large army, and having arrived in that very large country where there are great deserts and rivers are rare, and finding those same difficulties that had already caused the ruin of many Roman armies, was so overwhelmed by them that ((even though he had been superior in the war)) he lost a great part of his forces by famine and pestilence. So that angered against the author of the counsel, he killed him. You will read of many Citizens having been advisors (in favor) of an enterprise, and because that resulted badly, they were sent into exile. Some Roman Citizens advised that in creating Chiefs, that Plebs should be made Consuls in Rome. It happened that the first who went in the field with an army was defeated, whence harm would have come to those counsellors if that party, in whose honor that particular decision had been made, had not been so powerful. It is a most certain thing, therefore, that those who counsel a Republic and those who counsel a Prince, are placed between these two hazards; that if they do not counsel the things which appear to them useful either to the Prince or to the City (Republic) without regard (to the consequences to themselves), they fail in their office: if they do counsel it, they do so at the peril of their lives and their States; for all men are blind in these things, and are accustomed to judge the good or evil of a counsel by its result.

And in thinking of how they may be able to avoid this infamy or danger, no other way is seen than to take things moderately, and not to undertake any as one’s own enterprise, and to give an opinion without passion, and without passion to defend it modestly: so that if the Princes or the City follows it, they do so voluntarily and does not appear as though they were drawn into it by your importunity. When you act thusly, it is not reasonable that a Prince or a People will wish you ill because of your counsel, as it was not followed against the wishes of the many. For here the danger arises when it is contradicted by many, who then, when the result is unhappy, come “together in causing your ruin. And, if in such a case that glory is lacking which is acquired in being alone against the many in counselling a thing which chances to have good ending, yet there are two benefits which result: The first, danger is avoided: The second, that if you counsel a thing modestly, and because of contradiction your counsel is not taken, but ruin results from the counsel of others, you will obtain a very great glory. And although you cannot enjoy the glory that is acquired from the misfortune that happens to your City or your Prince, none the less it is to be held of some account.

I do not believe other advice can be given to men in this case, for in counselling them to remain silent and not speak their opinion, would be a useless thing to the Republic or to their Princes, and they would not avoid danger as in a little while they would become suspect: and it could happen to them as to those friends of Perseus, King of the Macedonians, who, when he was defeated by Paulus Emilius, having fled with a few friends, it happened that, in discussing the past events, one of them begun to tell Perseus of the many errors committed by him which had been the cause of his ruin; to which Perseus, turning to him, said: Traitor, you have waited to tell me this until now when I no longer have a remedy; and upon these words he killed him with his own hands: and thus this man suffered the punishment for having been silent when he should have spoken, and to have spoken when he should have been silent, and he did not avoid the danger by not having given his counsel. I believe, therefore, that the course mentioned above is the one to be held and observed.

CHAPTER XXXVI

THE REASON WHY THE GAULS HAVE BEEN, AND STILL ARE, JUDGED AT THE BEGINNING OF A BATTLE TO BE MORE THAN MEN, AND AFTERWARDS LESS THAN WOMEN

The boldness of that Gaul who defied any Roman at the river Arno to combat (singly) with him, and the subsequent fight he had with T. Manlius, makes me remember what T. Livius often says, that the Gauls at the beginning of a fight are more than men, and in the course of the fight they turn out then to be less than women. And in thinking whence this arises, it is believed by many that it is because of their nature, and which I believe it true: but it is not because of this that this nature of theirs which makes them ferocious in the beginning, cannot be so disciplined that they might maintain that ferocity until the end. And in wanting to prove this I say that there are three kinds of armies: the one, where there is ardor and discipline, for from discipline there arises ardor and virtu, like that of the Romans: For it is seen in all histories that there was discipline in those armies, such military discipline had prevailed for a long time: for in a well-ordered army no one ought to perform any action except by regulation: and therefore it will be found that in the Roman army ((which having conquered the world, all other armies ought to take as an example)) no one ate, slept, traded, or did any other military or domestic act, without an order from the Consul. For those armies which do otherwise are not truly armies, and if they sometimes give some proof of it, they do this by their ardor and impulse, not because of virtu. But where virtu is disciplined, it employs its ardor with moderation and at the right time; and no difficulty debases it, or makes it lose courage, because good order renews this courage and ardor, nourished by the hope of victory, which is never missing while discipline is preserved. The contrary happens in those armies where there is ardor but no discipline; as were the Gauls, who were completely lacking in this while combatting, for if they did not succeed in winning with the first onset, in which they hoped, and not being sustained by a well regulated virtu, and not having anything outside of their fury in which to confide, they failed when that (first ardor) cooled. The Romans were the opposite; they were less apprehensive of danger because of their good discipline, were not mistrusting of victory, fought with the same courage and virtu at the end as at the beginning (of a battle), the heat of battle actually inflaming them. The third kind of armies is where there is no natural ardor or chance discipline; as are our Italian armies of our time, which are all useless, and unless they fall upon an army that by some accident is fleeing, they never win. And without citing other examples, it is seen every day that they give proof of not having any virtu. And as everyone knows from the testimony of T. Livius how good military organizations are created and how bad ones are made, I want to cite the words of Papirius Cursor when he wanted to punish Fabius, his Master of cavalry, when he said: Let no one have fear of men or Gods; but let them observe neither the Imperial edicts nor the auspices: let the soldiers, without provisions, roam in packs when going in the territory of the enemy; forgetting their oaths, from which they absolve themselves as they wish; let them desert their ensigns in large numbers, nor follow the edicts for assembling: let them indiscriminately fight by day and by night, in favorable and unfavorable positions, with or without the orders of the Commanders; and let them observe neither the ensigns nor discipline, blind and confused like robbers -than being like a sacred and solemn army.

From this text, therefore, it can be easily seen whether the military of our times are blind and confused, or sacred and solemn, and how much they lack in being like that which can be called military, and how far they are from being arduous and disciplined like the Romans, or furious only as the Gauls.

CHAPTER XXXVII

WHETHER SKIRMISHES BEFORE AN ENGAGEMENT ARE NECESSARY, AND HOW TO RECOGNIZE A NEW ENEMY IF THEY ARE AVOIDED

It appears that in the actions of men ((as we discussed at other times)) there is found, in addition to the other difficulties when it is desired to conclude something successfully, that good is always accompanied by some evil, which so easily arises with that good, that it appears impossible to do without the one when desiring the other; and this is seen in all the things that men do. And, therefore, good is acquired with difficulty, unless you are aided by fortune in a way that she, with her power, overcomes the ordinary and natural difficulties.

The combat between Manlius Torquatus and the Gaul makes me remember this, of which Titus Livius says: So much influence did the momentous outcome of that fight have on the whole war, that the army of the Gauls, having precipituously retreated from their camps, fled across the Tiber, and then into the fields of Campania. For, on the one hand I consider that a good Captain ought to avoid entirely doing anything of little importance which can have a bad effect on his army; for to begin a battle where he cannot employ all his strength and where he risks his entire fortune, is a completely foolhardy thing, as I said above when I condemned the guarding of passes. On the other hand. I consider that a wise Captain, when he comes to encounter a new enemy which has reputation, finds it necessary before coming to an engagement for his soldiers to probe such enemies by skirmishes, so that they begin to know him and how to handle him and lose any terror which their fame and reputation may have given them. And this part (of his duties) in a Captain is most important, for he feels almost a necessity in himself which constrains him to do it, as it appears to him he would be going to a certain defeat unless by these light experiences he first removes that terror which the reputation of the enemy may have placed in their hearts. When Valerius Corvinus was sent by the Romans with the armies against the Samnites, who were new enemies, and in the past had never had a test of arms against each other, he made the Romans engage the Samnites in some skirmishes, where as Titus Livius says: Neither a new war or a new enemy should make them fear. None the less, there is a very great danger that if your soldiers are defeated in those slight battles, their fear and apprehension will increase, and that the opposite effects will ensue from what you designed, that is, you may have discouraged them where you had planned to reassure them. So that this is one of those things which has evil so near the good, and are so joined together, that it is an easy thing to adopt one (course) believing to have taken the other.

Upon this I say, that a good Captain ought to see to it with all diligence, that nothing springs up which, by some accident, can discourage his army. And that which can begin to discourage is to begin to lose, and, therefore, he should guard against small combats and not permit them unless he can engage in them with the greatest advantages and certain hope of victory: he ought not to engage in guarding passes where he cannot employ all his army: he ought not to engage in guarding towns except those which, if lost, would of necessity cause his own ruin, and in those that he does guard so organize himself that if faced with the possibility of siege, he can with the guards and the army employ all his strength, and ought to leave the other places undefended: For whenever something is lost which is abandoned but the army remains intact, he neither loses reputation in the war nor the hope of winning it. But when something is lost which you had planned to defend, and everyone believed you would defend it, then there is damage as well as defeat, and you have almost, like the Gauls, lost the war through a matter of little moment. Philip of Macedonia, father of Perseus, a military man and of great renown in his times, having been assaulted by the Romans, abandoned and laid waste many of his territories which he judged he could not defend; for in his prudence he judged it would be more pernicious to lose his reputation by not being able to defend that which he set himself to defend, than by leaving it a prey to the enemy lose it as something neglected (and of no value). The Romans, after the defeat at Cannae, when their affairs were afflicted, refused aid to many of their allies and subjects, advising them to defend themselves as best they could. Which proceedings are much better than to undertake their defense and then not defending them: for in such a proceeding both friends and strength are lost, while in the other they lose only friends.

But to return to skirmishes, I say, that even if the Captain is constrained to engage in some because of the newness of the enemy, he ought to do so only with so much advantage on his side that there is no danger of losing; or certainly do as did Marius ((which is the better proceeding)) when going against the Cimbrians, a most ferocious people who came to plunder Italy; and their coming spread fear because of their numbers and ferocity and because of having already overcome one Roman army; and Marius judged it necessary, before coming to battle, to do something by which his army might lose that terror which fear of the enemy may have given them; and as a most prudent Captain, he placed his army several times in positions whence the Cimbri with their army should have to pass. And thus, he wanted his soldiers, from within the strongholds of his camp, to see and accustom their eyes to the sight of that enemy, so that seeing a disorganized multitude, encumbered with impediments, partly armed with useless weapons and partly without arms, they would be reassured and become desirous of the battle. Which proceeding, as it was wisely taken by Marius, so also should it be diligently imitated by others, so as not to incur those dangers which I have mentioned above, and not to have to do as the Gauls: who in fear from some small thing, retreated to the lands behind the Tiber and into Campania. And as we have cited Valerius Corvinus in this discourse, I want ((through the medium of his words)) in the following chapter to show how a Captain ought to be constituted.

CHAPTER XXXVIII

HOW A CAPTAIN OUGHT TO BE CONSTITUTED, IN WHOM IN ARMY CAN CONFIDE

Valerius Corvinus ((as I have mentioned above)) was sent with his army against the Samnites, new enemies of the Roman people, whence, in order to reassure his soldiers and to make them recognize the enemy, had them engage in some skirmishes; nor was this enough for him, as he wanted to speak to them before the engagement; and with great efficacy he showed them how little they should esteem such enemies, recalling to them the virtu of his soldiers and his own. Here it can be noted, from the words which Livius makes him say, how a Captain ought to be constituted in whom an army has to confide: Which words are these: Think of him under whose lead and auspices you are going to fight: whether he you are hearing is only a magnificent exhorter, ferocious only in words, or expert in military matters, and himself a thrower of weapons, to lead before the ensigns, and to combat in the thickest of the fight. Follow my actions, I do not want to say to you soldiers my words, and not only my orders, but the example of him who by his right arm has fought for the consulship and the highest glory. Which words, well considered, teach anyone how he ought to proceed in wanting to hold the rank of Captain: and he who acts otherwise will find in time that rank ((to which he may have been led by ambition or fortune)) to have been taken away and not have given him reputation; for titles do not honor men, but men titles. It ought also to be considered from the beginning of this discourse, that, if great” Captains have employed extraordinary means to firm up the courage of a veteran army, how much more he has to use that industry with those unaccustomed to face the enemy in a new army that has never seen the enemy face to face. For if an unaccustomed enemy creates terror in an old army, how much more ought any enemy create it in a new army. Yet all these difficulties have many times been seen to have been overcome by the prudent acts of a good Captain; as were Gracchus, the Roman, and Epaminondas, the Theban, of whom we have spoken another time, who with new armies overcame the veteran and best disciplined armies. The methods they employed were to exercise their troops in sham battles for several months, accustom them to obedience and order, and afterwards with maximum confidence lead them into the real battle. Any military man, therefore, ought not to despair of being able to create a good army as long as he does not lack men; for that Prince who abounds in men but lacks soldiers, ought not to complain of the baseness of men, but only of his indolence and little prudence.

CHAPTER XXXIX

THAT A CAPTAIN OUGHT TO BE ONE HAVING A KNOWLEDGE OF SITES

Among the other things that are necessary to a Captain of armies is the knowledge of sites (localities) in the countries, for without this general and particular knowledge, a Captain of armies cannot do anything well. And although wanting to possess successfully every science requires practice, yet this one requires more than others. This practice, or rather this particular knowledge, is acquired more by means of the chase, than by any other exercise. For the ancient writers say that those Heroes who governed the world in their time, were brought up in forests and in the chase: for, in addition to this knowledge, the chase teaches infinite things that are necessary in war. And Xenophon, in his life of Cyrus, shows that, when Cyrus was going to assault the King of Armenia, in dividing the army (among the commanders) recalled to his men that this was nothing more than one of those chases which they had many times made with him. And he recalled to those whom he sent in ambush in the mountains, that they were very similar to those who went to rouse the game from their den, so that they would drive them into the nets. This is said to show how the chase, according to its proof by Xenophon, is an image of a war. And because of this such exercise is honorable and necessary to great men. This knowledge of countries cannot be learned in any other convenient manner than by way of the chase, for the chase makes those who indulge in it to know in detail the character of the country where the army is. And when one has become familiar with a region afterwards he easily knows the character of all new countries, for every country and every part of them have together some conformity, so that the knowledge of one facilitates the knowledge of others. But he who has not experienced one, with difficulty or never learns (of another country) except after a long time. And whoever has had that experience will in a glance know how the plain lies, how that mountain rises, where that valley leads to, and all other such things of which in the past he has made a firm study.

And that this is true Titus Livius shows us with the example of Publius Decius, who was Tribune of the Soldiers in the army which the Consul Cornelius led against the Samnites, and the Consul having come to a valley where the army of the Romans could be closed in by the Samnites, and (Publius Decius) seeing it in so great danger, said to the Consul: Do you see that point above the enemy, Aulus Cornelius? That strong point is our hope and our safety, if we ((as the Samnites blindly have left it)) seize it quickly. And before these words were spoken by Decius, T. Livius says: Publius Decius, the Tribune of the army, had observed a hill immediately above the camp of the enemy, difficult to get on (by an army) with its impediments, but expeditiously by light armed (soldiers). Whence being sent by the Consul to take it with three thousand soldiers, he saved the Roman army; and designing with the coming of night to depart and save his soldiers as well as himself, (T. Livius) has him say these words: Come with me, and while daylight remains, let us explore where the enemy strong points are placed, and how we can exit from here. And lest the enemy about should note him from among his soldiers, he changed his clothing. He who considers all this text, therefore, will see how useful and necessary it is for a Captain to know the nature of countries; for if Decius had not known and recognized them, he could not have judged how useful the taking of that hill was to the Roman army, nor would he have been able to recognize from a distance if that hill was accessible or not, and having then brought himself to it, and having the enemy around him, he would not have been able from a distance to reconnoiter the path of his departure, nor the places guarded by the enemy. So that of necessity it behooved Decius to have such perfect knowledge (of the country) which enabled him, by the taking of that hill, to save the Roman army, and afterwards ((being besieged)) knowing how to find the way to save himself and those who he had with him.

CHAPTER XL

THAT TO USE DECEIT IN THE MANAGING OF A WAR IS A GLORIOUS THING

Although to use deceit in every action is detestable, none the less in the managing of a war it is a laudable and glorious thing; and that man is equally lauded who overcomes the enemy by deceit, as is he who overcomes them by force. And this is seen by the judgment which those men make who write biographies of great men, and who praise Hannibal and others who have been very notable in such ways of proceeding. Of which so many examples have been cited that I will not repeat any. I mention only this, that I do intend that that deceit is glorious which makes you break your trust and treaties that you made; for although it sometimes acquires a State and a Kingdom for you, as has been discussed above, will never acquire them for you gloriously. But I speak of that deceit which is employed against that enemy who distrusts you, and in which properly consists the managing of a war; as was that of Hannibal when he feigned flight on the lake of Perugia in order to close in the Consul and the Roman army; and when to escape from the hands of Fabius Maximus he fired (the fagots on) the horns of his cattle. A similar deceit was also employed by Pontius, the Captain of the Samnites, in order to close in the Roman army within the Caudine forks, who, having placed his army behind a mountain, sent some of his soldiers under the dress of shepherds with a large herd upon the plain; who, being taken by the Romans and asked where the army of the Samnites was, all agreed according to the orders given by Pontius to say that it was at the siege of Nocera. Which was believed by the Consuls, and caused them to be enclosed within the defiles (of Claudium), where (having entered) they were quickly besieged by the Samnites. And this victory obtained by deceit would have been most glorious to Pontius, if he had followed the counsels of his father, who wanted the Romans either to be liberally set free, or all put to death, and would not take the middle way: Never make a friend or remove an enemy. Which way was always pernicious in the affairs of a State, as has been discussed above in another place.

CHAPTER XLI

THAT ONE’S COUNTRY OUGHT TO BE DEFENDED, WHETHER WITH IGNOMINY OR WITH GLORY, BUT IT CAN BE DEFENDED IN WHATEVER MANNER

The Consul and the Roman army ((as mentioned above)) were besieged by the Samnites, who had proposed the most ignominious conditions to the Romans, which were to put them under the yoke, and to send them back to Rome disarmed; the Consuls were astonished and the entire army was in despair because of this; but L. Lentulus, the Roman legate said, that it did not appear he should avoid any procedure in order to save the country, for as the life of Rome depended on the life of that army, it appeared to him it should be saved in whatever way, and that the country is well defended in whatever way it is defended, either with ignominy or with glory; for by saving that army, Rome would in time wipe out that ignominy; but by not saving it, even though they should die most gloriously, Rome and its liberty would be lost. Which thing merits to be noted and observed by any citizen who finds himself counselling his country; for where the entire safety of the country is to be decided, there ought not to exist any consideration of what is just or unjust, nor what is merciful or cruel, nor what is praiseworthy or ignominious; rather, ahead of every other consideration, that proceeding ought to be followed which will save the life of the country and maintain its liberty. Which counsel is imitated by the words and deeds of the French in defending the majesty of their King and the power of the Kingdom, for they listen to no voice more impatiently than that which says: Such a proceeding is ignominious to the King; for they say that their King cannot suffer disgrace in any of his decisions either in good or adverse fortune, because, whether he wins or loses, they all say it is a matter that only concerns the King.

CHAPTER XLII

THAT PROMISES MADE BY FORCE OUGHT NOT TO BE OBSERVED

When the Consuls returned to Rome with the disarmed army and the ignominies received, the first who said that the peace made at Claudium (the Caudine Forks) ought not to be observed was the Consul Sp. Posthumius; he said that the Roman people were under no obligation, but only he and the others who had promised the peace were obligated: and, therefore, if the People wanted to free themselves from every obligation, they had only to give him and the others who had promised it as prisoners into the hands of the Samnites. And he held this conclusion with such obstinacy that the Senate agreed to it, and sent him and the others as prisoners to Samnium, protesting to the Samnites that the peace was of no value. And so favorable was fortune to Posthumius in this case, that the Samnites did not keep him, and when he returned to Rome, Posthumius was received by the Romans more gloriously for having lost, than was Pontius by the Samnites for having won. Here two things are to be noted: the one, that glory can be acquired in any action; for it is ordinarily acquired in victory and in defeat it is acquired either by showing that this defeat was not due to your fault, or by quickly doing some act of virtu which counteracts it: the other, that it is not a disgrace not to observe those promises which were made by force: and always forced promises regarding public affairs, will be disregarded when that force is removed, and he who disregards them is without shame. Many examples of this are to be read in all histories. And, not only are forced promises not observed among Princes when that force is removed, but also other promises are not observed when the causes for making those promises are removed. Whether this is praiseworthy or not, and whether or not a Prince ought to observe them in a similar manner, has been discussed at length by use in the treatise on the Prince: therefore we will be silent for the present.

CHAPTER XLIII

THAT MEN BORN IN A PROVINCE OBSERVE FOR ALL TIME ALMOST THE SAME NATURES

Prudent men usually say ((and not by chance or without merit)) that whoever wants to see what is to be, considers what has been; for all the things of the world in every time have had the very resemblance as those of ancient times. This arises because they are done by men who have been, and will always have, the same passions, and of necessity they must result in the same effects. It is true that men in their actions are more virtuous in this province than in another, according to the nature of the education by which those people have formed their way of living. It also facilitates the knowledge of future events from the past, to observe a nation hold their same customs for a long time, being either continuously avaricious, or continuously fraudulent, or have any other similar vice or virtu. And whoever reads of past events of our City of Florence, and takes in consideration also those which have occurred in recent times, will find the French and German people full of avarice, haughtiness, ferocity, and infidelity, because all of these result in things at different times; which have greatly harmed our City. And as to bad faith, everyone knows how many times money was given to King Charles VIII on his promise to restore to them the fortresses of Pisa, but he never restored them: in which the King showed the bad faith and great avarice of his. But let us come to more recent events. Everyone may have heard of what ensued in the war which the Florentine people carried on against the Visconti, Dukes of Milan, and how Florence, deprived of other expedients, decided to call the Emperor into Italy, who, with his reputation and strength, would assault Lombardy. The Emperor promised to come with a large force, and to undertake the war against the Visconti, and to defend Florence against their power if the Florentines would give him a hundred thousand ducats when starting, and a hundred thousand more when they would enter Italy. The Florentines consented to these terms, and paid them the first moneys, and later the second, but when he arrived at Verona, he turned back without doing anything, alleging as a reason for leaving, that they had not observed the conventions that existed between them.

So that, if Florence had not been constrained by necessity or carried away by passion, and having studied and known the ancient customs of the barbarians, she would not have been deceived by them on this and other occasions; for they (the Gauls) have always been the same and conducted themselves on every occasion and towards everyone, as is seen they did in ancient times to the Tuscans; who, having been hard pressed by the Romans, having been routed and put to flight by them many many times, and seeing that they could not by their own forces be able to resist the assaults (of the Romans), came together with the Gauls who lived in Italy on this side of the Alps, to give them a sum of money, for which they should be obliged to join their armies with theirs (Tuscans), and go against the Romans. Whence it happened that the Gauls, having taken the money, did not then want to take up arms for them, saying that they had received it, not for making war against the enemy, but for abstaining from plundering the Tuscan country. And thus the Tuscan people were, because of the avarice and bad faith of the Gauls, suddenly deprived of their money and the aid they had hoped to obtain from them. So that it is seen from the example of the ancient Tuscans and from that of the Florentines, that the Gauls (and French) have employed the same means; and from this, it can be easily conjectured how much Princes can have confidence in them.

CHAPTER XLIV

IMPETUOSITY AND AUDACITY MANY TIMES CAN OBTAIN THAT WHICH, WITH ORDINARY MEANS, CAN NEVER BE OBTAINED

The Samnites being assaulted by the Roman army, and being unable to stay abreast of the Romans in the field, decided, ((having placed guards in the town of Samnium)) to pass with all their army into Tuscany, during a time of truce with the Romans, to see whether, by such a passage and the presence of their army, they could induce the Tuscans to take up arms again, which they had refused to their Ambassadors. And in the talks which the Samnites had with the Tuscans ((especially in showing them the reason which induced them to take up arms)) they used a notable term, where they said: They had rebelled, for peace was more of a burden to slaves than war is to free men. And thus, partly by persuasion, parly by the presence of their army, they induced them to take up arms. Here it is to be noted that when a Prince desires to obtain something from another, he ought not ((if the occasion permits him)) to give him time to deliberate, but to act so as to make the other see the necessity for quick decision, who, when it is demanded of him, will see that to refuse or delay it, a sudden and dangerous indignation may arise.

This method has been seen to be well employed in our times by Pope Julian against the French, and by Monsignor De Foix, Captain of the King of France against the Marquis of Mantua; for Pope Julius, wanting to drive the Bentivogli from Bologna, and judging therefore to have need of the French forces and for the Venetians to remain neutral, and having sought the one and the other and obtaining dubious and various replies, decided that, by not giving them time, to make both come to terms with him; and departing from Rome with as much of a force as he could gather, went toward Bologna, and sent to tell the Venetians to remain neutral and to the King of France to send his forces to him. So that, as they were both pressed by the short space of time and seeing that an open indignation would arise in the Pope if they were refused or delayed, they yielded to his desires, and the King sent him aid and the Venetians remained neutral. The Monsignor De Foix was still with his army at Bologna, and having learned of the rebellion at Brescia, and wanting to go to recover it, had two paths (available): the one, long and tedious, through the dominion of the King, and the other, short, through the dominion of that Marquis; but he had to enter there over certain dikes between the swamps and the lakes of which that region is full, and which are closed and guarded by him by fortresses and other means. Whence that De Foix decided to go by the shorter route and to overcome every difficulty, and not give the Marquis time to decide, he at once moved his forces by that road, and signified to the Marquis to send him the keys to (the fortress which guarded) that pass. So that the Marquis, occupied by this quick decision, sent him the keys, which he would never have sent if De Foix had conducted himself more lukewarmly; for the Marquis, being in league with the Pope and the Venetians, and having one of his sons in the hands of the Pope, had reasons which could have given him an honest excuse to refuse them to him. But assaulted by the quick proceeding ((for the reasons given above)) he yielded them. The Tuscans also acted likewise toward the Samnites, being forced by the presence of the army of the Samnites to take up those arms which they had refused to take up at other times.

CHAPTER XLV

WHAT IS THE BETTER PROCEEDING IN BATTLE, EITHER TO SUSTAIN THE FIRST SHOCK OF THE ENEMY, AND HAVING SUSTAINED IT, HURL THEM BACK, OR RATHER TO ASSAULT HIM FIRST WITH FURY

The Roman Consuls, Decius and Fabius, were with their two armies at the encounter with the armies of the Samnites and Tuscans, and both coming to battle on the same day, it is to be noted which of the two different methods of proceeding adopted by the two Consuls was better. Decius assaulted the enemy with all his strength and all impetuosity: Fabius only sustained (his attack), judging a slow assault to be more useful, reserving his fury for the last when the enemy should have lost his first ardor for combat, and ((as we said before)) his vehemence. Here it is seen that the success resulting from the plan of Fabius turned out much better than that of Decius, who, weary from the first shocks and seeing his band disposed rather to flee than otherwise, to acquire that glory by death which he was unable to gain by victory, in imitation of his father, sacrificed himself for the Roman legions. When this was heard by Fabius, so as not to acquire less honor by living than his colleague had acquired by dying, he rushed to the front all those forces which he had reserved for such a necessity, whence it gained him a most happy victory. From this it is seen that the method of proceeding of Fabius is more certain and worthy of imitation.

CHAPTER XLVI

WHENCE IT HAPPENS THAT A FAMILY IN A CITY FOR A TIME, HAVE THE SAME CUSTOMS

It appears that one City not only has certain ways and institutions different from another, and produces men who are either more harsh or effeminate, but within one City such differences are seen between one family and another. This is proved in every City, and many examples are seen in the City of Rome; for there are seen that the Manlii were hard and obstinate, the Publicoli benign and lovers of the people, the Appii ambitious and enemies of the plebs, and thusly many other families, each having its own qualities apart from the others. This cannot only result from blood ((for it must be that it changes from the diversity of marriages)) but must result from the different education that one family has from another. For it is very important that a young man of tender years begins to hear the good and bad of a thing, as it must of necessity make an impression on him, and from that afterwards regulate the method of proceeding all the rest of his life. And if this were not so it would be impossible that all the Appii should have had the same desires, and should have been stirred by the same passions, as Titus Livius has observed in many of them, and (especially) in that last one who was made Censor; and when his colleague at the end of eighteen months ((as the law called for)) laid down the magistracy, Appius did not want to lay down his, saying he could hold it five years according to the original laws ordained by the Censors. And although many public meetings were held on this question, and many tumults were generated, yet no remedy was ever found to depose him (from the office which he held) against the wishes of the people and the greater part of the Senate. And whoever reads the oration he made against P. Sempronius, the Tribune of the plebs, wfll note all the insolence of Appius, and all the good will and humanity shown by infinite Citizens in obeying the laws and auspices of their country.

CHAPTER XLVII

THAT FOR THE LOVE OF HIS COUNTRY, A GOOD CITIZEN OUGHT TO FORGET PRIVATE INJURIES

Manlius, the Consul, was with his army against the Samnites when he was wounded in a battle, and as this was bringing danger to his forces, the Senate judged it necessary to send Papirus Cursor as Dictator to supply the place of the Consul. But as it was necessary that the Dictator should be named by Fabius, who was then with the armies in Tuscany, and being apprehensive that as he was hostile he would not want to name him, the Senators sent two Ambassadors to entreat him that he lay aside his personal hatred and name him for the public benefit: which Fabius did, moved by his concern for the Country, although he showed by his silence and in many other ways that this nomination was pressed on him; for which, all those who seek to be regarded as good citizens ought to take an example.

CHAPTER XLVIII

WHEN A GOOD ERROR IS SEEN TO BE MADE BY THE ENEMY, IT OUGHT TO BE BELIEVED THAT IT IS DONE UNDER DECEIT

Fulvius, having been left as Legate in the army that the Romans had in Tuscany, while the Consul had gone to Rome for some ceremonies, the Tuscans to see if they could trap him, placed an ambush near the Roman camp; and they sent some soldiers dressed as shepherds with a large flock, and had them come in the sight of the Roman army, and thus dressed approached the entrenchments of the camp: whence the legate wondering at this presumption of theirs, and as it did not appear reasonable, took means to discover the deceit, and thus defeated the designs of the Tuscans. Here it can be conveniently noted that a Captain of armies ought not to trust in an error which he sees done by the enemy, as it always is done under deception, for it is unreasonable that men are so incautious. But often, the desire for victory blinds the minds of men who do not see anything else other then that which favors them. After the Gauls had overcome the Romans on the Allia, they came to Rome, and finding the gates open and unguarded, remained all that day and night without entering in fear of a deception, unable to believe that there should be so much baseness and so little counsel in the hearts of the Romans that they should abandon their country. When the Florentines in the year one thousand five hundred eight (1508) went to besiege Pisa. Alfonso Del Mutolo, a Pisan citizen, was (found to be) a prisoner of the Florentines, and promised that if they should free him, he would deliver a gate of Pisa to the Florentine army. He was set free. Afterward, to carry out the promise, he often came to talk with those sent by the commissioners, but never came concealed, but openly and accompanied by Pisans, whom he left to one side when he talked with the Florentines. Hence his duplicity could have been conjectured, for it was not reasonable that he should treat the proceeding so openly if he had been acting faithfully. But the desire they had to obtain Pisa so blinded the Florentines that, being led through his arrangement to the gate at Lucca, where, by the double treachery of the said Alfonso, they lost many of their Leaders and other forces in a dishonorable manner.

CHAPTER XLIX

A REPUBLIC WANTING TO MAINTAIN ITSELF FREE HAS SOME NEED OF NEW PRECAUTIONS, AND IT WAS BY SUCH METHODS THAT Q. FABIUS WAS CALLED MAXIMUS

Of necessity ((as we mentioned other times)) it happens that in a great City incidents arise every day which have need of a doctor, and according as they are more important, a wiser doctor must be found. And if such strange and unforeseen incidents ever arose in such a City, they arose in Rome; as was that where it seemed that all the Roman women had conspired against their husbands to kill them, so that many were found who had (actually) poisoned them, and many who had prepared the poison to poison them; and as also was the conspiracy of the Bacchanals which was discovered at the time of the Macedonian war, where many thousands of men and women were implicated; and if it had not been discovered, it would have been dangerous for that City, and if the Romans had not been accustomed to punish the great number of guilty men. For, if the greatness of this Republic and its power of execution had not been seen from infinite other signs, it is seen from the kind of penalty imposed on those who erred. It did not hesitate through a judicial decision to put to death an entire legion at one time, or (to destroy) an entire City, and to exile eight or ten thousand men with such extraordinary conditions as could be observed, not by one man alone, but by many; as happened to those soldiers who fought unhappily at Cannae, who it exiled in Sicily, and imposing on them that they not live in towns and should eat standing. But the most terrible of all other executions was the decimation of the army, where by lot, one out of ten in the army was put to death. Nor in punishing a multitude could a more frightening punishment than this be found, for when a multitude errs, and where the author is not certain, everyone cannot be punished because they are too many: to punish a part and leave a part unpunished, would be wrong to those who would be punished, and the unpunished would have a mind to en another time. But to put to death part by lot when all merited it, those who are to be punished will complain of their lot, those who are not punished fear that another time the lot might fall to them, and will guard themselves from error. The Poisoners and the Bacchanals, therefore, were punished according as their crimes merited.

And although these maladies in a Republic have a bad effect, they are not fatal, for there is always time to correct them; but there is no time for those that affect the State, which, if they are not corrected by a prudent man, ruin the City. Because of the liberality which the Romans showed in giving their civil privileges to foreigners, many new people sprung up in Rome, and these begun to have a part in the elections; so that the government began to change and depart from those institutions and principles of those men who had been accustomed to direct it. When Quintus Fabius, who was Censor, became aware of this, he put all the new people, from whom this disorder derived, into four Tribes, so that they should be unable ((reduced to such small a space)) to corrupt all Rome. This was well recognized by Fabius, and put into effect a suitable remedy, which without change, was so well accepted by the Society (Republic), that he merited being called Maximus.

1. Marzocco is the name Florentines gave a marble lion (attributed to Donatello) with the coat of arms, at the gate of the Palazzo Vecchio; hence, the party supporting the government was called the party of Marzocco.

NINIAN HILL THOMSON TRANSLATION, 1883

CONTENTS

NICCOLÒ MACHIAVELLI TO ZANOBI BUONDELMONTI AND COSIMO RUCELLAI HEALTH.

BOOK I.

PREFACE.

CHAPTER I. — Of the Beginnings of Cities in general, and in particular of that of Rome.

CHAPTER II. — Of the various kinds of Government; and to which of them the Roman Commonwealth belonged.

CHAPTER III. — Of the Accidents which led in Rome to the creation of Tribunes of the People; whereby the Republic was made more perfect.

CHAPTER IV. — That the Dissensions between the Senate and Commons of Rome, made Rome free and powerful.

CHAPTER V. — Whether the Guardianship of public Freedom is safer in the hands of the Commons or of the Nobles; and whether those who seek to acquire Power or they who seek to maintain it are the greater cause of Commotions.

CHAPTER VI. — Whether it was possible in Rome to contrive such a Government as would have composed the Differences between the Commons and the Senate.

CHAPTER VII. — That to preserve Liberty in a State there must exist the Right to accuse.

CHAPTER VIII. — That Calumny is as hurtful in a Commonwealth as the power to accuse is useful.

CHAPTER IX. — That to give new Institutions to a Commonwealth, or to reconstruct old Institutions on an entirely new basis, must be the work of one Man.

CHAPTER X. — That in proportion as the Founder of a Kingdom or Commonwealth merits Praise, he who founds a Tyranny deserves Blame.

CHAPTER XI. — Of the Religion of the Romans.

CHAPTER XII. — That it is of much moment to make account of Religion; and that Italy, through the Roman Church, being wanting therein, has been ruined.

CHAPTER XIII. — Of the use the Romans made of Religion in giving Institutions to their City, in carrying out their Enterprises, and in quelling Tumults.

CHAPTER XIV. — That the Romans interpreted the Auspices to meet the occasion; and made a prudent show of observing the Rites of Religion even when forced to disregard them; and any who rashly slighted Religion they punished.

CHAPTER XV. — How the Samnites, as a last resource in their broken Fortunes, had recourse to Religion.

CHAPTER XVI. — That a People accustomed to live under a Prince, if by any accident it become free, can hardly preserve that Freedom.

CHAPTER XVII. — That a corrupt People obtaining Freedom can hardly preserve it.

CHAPTER XVIII. — How a Free Government existing in a corrupt City may be preserved, or not existing may be created.

CHAPTER XIX. — After a strong Prince a weak Prince may maintain himself: but after one weak Prince no Kingdom can stand a second.

CHAPTER XX. — That the consecutive Reigns of two valiant Princes produce great results: and that well-ordered Commonwealths are assured of a Succession of valiant Rulers by whom their Power and Growth are rapidly extended.

CHAPTER XXI. — That it is a great reproach to a Prince or to a Commonwealth to be without a national Army.

CHAPTER XXII. — What is to be noted in the combat of the three Roman Horatii and the three Alban Curiatii.

CHAPTER XXIII. — That we should never hazard our whole Fortunes where we put not forth our entire Strength; for which reason to guard a Defile is often hurtful.

CHAPTER XXIV. — That well-ordered States always provide Rewards and Punishments for their Citizens; and never set off Deserts against Misdeeds.

CHAPTER XXV. — That he who would reform the Institutions of a free State, must retain at least the semblance of old Ways.

CHAPTER XXVI. — A new Prince in a City or Province of which he has taken Possession, ought to make Everything new.

CHAPTER XXVII. — That Men seldom know how to be wholly good or wholly bad.

CHAPTER XXVIII. — Whence it came that the Romans were less ungrateful to their Citizens than were the Athenians.

CHAPTER XXIX. — Whether a People or a Prince is the more ungrateful.

CHAPTER XXX. — How Princes and Commonwealths may avoid the vice of Ingratitude; and how a Captain or Citizen may escape being undone by it.

CHAPTER XXXI. — That the Roman Captains were never punished with extreme severity for Misconduct; and where loss resulted to the Republic merely through their Ignorance or Want of Judgment, were not punished at all.

CHAPTER XXXII. — That a Prince or Commonwealth should not delay conferring Benefits until they are themselves in difficulties.

CHAPTER XXXIII. — When a Mischief has grown up in, or against a State, it is safer to temporize with than to meet it with Violence.

CHAPTER XXXIV. — That the authority of the Dictator did good and not harm to the Roman Republic: and that it is not those Powers which are given by the free suffrages of the People, but those which ambitious Citizens usurp for themselves, that are pernicious to a State.

CHAPTER XXXV — Why the Creation of the Decemvirate in Rome, although brought about by the free and open Suffrage of the Citizens, was hurtful to the Liberties of that Republic

CHAPTER XXXVI. — That Citizens who have held the higher Offices of a Commonwealth should not disdain the lower.

CHAPTER XXXVII. — Of the Mischief bred in Rome by the Agrarian Law: and how it is a great source of disorder in a Commonwealth to pass a Law opposed to ancient Usage and with stringent retrospective Effect.

CHAPTER XXXVIII. — That weak Republics are irresolute and undecided; and that the course they may take depends more on Necessity than Choice.

CHAPTER XXXIX. — That often the same Accidents are seen to befall different Nations.

CHAPTER XL. — Of the creation of the Decemvirate in Rome, and what therein is to be noted. Wherein among other Matters is shown how the same Causes may lead to the Safety or to the Ruin of a Commonwealth.

CHAPTER XLI. — That it is unwise to pass at a bound from leniency to severity, or to a haughty bearing from a humble.

CHAPTER XLII. — How easily Men become corrupted.

CHAPTER XLIII. — That Men fighting in their own Cause make good and resolute Soldiers.

CHAPTER XLIV. — That the Multitude is helpless without a Head: and that we should not with the same breath threaten and ask leave.

CHAPTER XLV. — That it is of evil example, especially in the Maker of a Law, not to observe the Law when made: and that daily to renew acts of injustice in a City is most hurtful to the Governor.

CHAPTER XLVI. — That Men climb from one step of Ambition to another, seeking at first to escape Injury and then to injure others.

CHAPTER XLVII. — That though Men deceive themselves in Generalities, in Particulars they judge truly.

CHAPTER XLVIII. — He who would not have an Office bestowed on some worthless or wicked Person, should contrive that it be solicited by one who is utterly worthless and wicked, or else by one who is in the highest degree noble and good.

CHAPTER XLIX. — That if Cities which, like Rome, had their beginning in Freedom, have had difficulty in framing such Laws as would preserve their Freedom, Cities which at the first have been in Subjection will find this almost impossible.

CHAPTER L. — That neither any Council nor any Magistrate should have power to bring the Government of a City to a stay.

CHAPTER LI. — What a Prince or Republic does of Necessity, should seem to be done by Choice.

CHAPTER LII. — That to check the arrogance of a Citizen who is growing too powerful in a State, there is no safer Method, or less open to objection, than to forestall him in those Ways whereby he seeks to advance himself.

CHAPTER LIII. — That the People, deceived by a false show of Advantage, often desire what would be their Ruin; and that large Hopes and brave Promises easily move them.

CHAPTER LIV. — Of the boundless Authority which a great Man may use to restrain an excited Multitude.

CHAPTER LV. — That Government is easily carried on in a City wherein the body of the People is not corrupted: and that a Princedom is impossible where Equality prevails, and a Republic where it does not.

CHAPTER LVI. — That when great Calamities are about to befall a City or Country, Signs are seen to presage, and Seers arise who foretell them.

CHAPTER LVII. — That the People are strong collectively, but individually weak.

CHAPTER LVIII. — That a People is wiser and more constant than a Prince

CHAPTER LIX. — To what Leagues or Alliances we may most trust; whether those we make with Commonwealths or those we make with Princes.

CHAPTER LX. — That the Consulship and all the other Magistracies in Rome were given without respect to Age.

BOOK II.

PREFACE.

CHAPTER I. — Whether the Empire acquired by the Romans was more due to Valour or to Fortune.

CHAPTER II. — With what Nations the Romans had to contend, and how stubborn these were in defending their Freedom.

CHAPTER III. — That Rome became great by destroying the Cities which lay round about her, and by readily admitting strangers to the rights of Citizenship.

CHAPTER IV. — That Commonwealths have followed three Methods for extending their Power.

CHAPTER V. — That changes in Sects and Tongues, and the happening of Floods and Pestilences, obliterate the Memory of the Past.

CHAPTER VI. — Of the Methods followed by the Romans in making War.

CHAPTER VII. — Of the Quantity of Land assigned by the Romans to each Colonist.

CHAPTER VIII. — Why certain Nations leave their ancestral Seats and overflow the Countries of others.

CHAPTER IX. — Of the Causes which commonly give rise to Wars between States.

CHAPTER X. — That contrary to the vulgar opinion, Money is not the Sinews of War.

CHAPTER XI. — That it were unwise to ally yourself a Prince who has Reputation rather than Strength.

CHAPTER XII. — Whether when Invasion is imminent it is better to anticipate or to await it.

CHAPTER XIII. — That Men rise from humble to high Fortunes rather by Fraud than by Force.

CHAPTER XIV. — That Men often err in thinking they can subdue Pride by Humility.

CHAPTER XV. — That weak States are always dubious in their Resolves; and that tardy Resolves are always hurtful.

CHAPTER XVI. — That the Soldiers of our days depart widely from the methods of ancient Warfare.

CHAPTER XVII. — What importance the Armies of the present day should allow to Artillery; and whether the commonly received opinion concerning it be just.

CHAPTER XVIII. — That the authority of the Romans and the example of ancient Warfare should make us hold Foot Soldiers of more account than Horse.

CHAPTER XIX. — That Acquisitions made by ill-governed States and such as follow not the valiant methods of the Romans, tend rather to their Ruin than to their Aggrandizement.

CHAPTER XX. — Of the Dangers incurred by Princes or Republics who resort to Auxiliary or Mercenary Arms.

CHAPTER XXI. — That Capua was the first City to which the Romans sent a Prætor; nor there, until four hundred years after they began to make War.

CHAPTER XXII. — That in matters of moment Men often judge amiss.

CHAPTER XXIII. — That in chastising their Subjects when circumstances required it the Romans always avoided half-measures.

CHAPTER XXIV. — That, commonly, Fortresses do much more Harm than Good

CHAPTER XXV. — That he who attacks a City divided against itself, must not think to get possession of it through its Divisions.

CHAPTER XXVI. — That Taunts and Abuse breed Hatred against him who uses them, without yielding him any Advantage.

CHAPTER XXVII. — That prudent Princes and Republics should be content to have obtained a Victory; for, commonly, when they are not, theft-Victory turns to Defeat.

CHAPTER XXVIII. — That to neglect the redress of Grievances, whether public or private, is dangerous for a Prince or Commonwealth.

CHAPTER XXIX. — That Fortune obscures the minds of Men when she would not have them hinder her Designs.

CHAPTER XXX. — That really powerful Princes and, Commonwealths do not buy Friendships with Money, but with their Valour and the Fame of their Prowess.

CHAPTER XXXI. — Of the Danger of trusting banished Men.

CHAPTER XXXII. — In how many Ways the Romans gained Possession of Towns.

CHAPTER XXXIII. — That the Romans intrusted the Captains of their Armies with the fullest Powers.

BOOK III.

CHAPTER I. — For a Sect or Commonwealth to last long, it must often be brought back to its Beginnings.

CHAPTER II. — That on occasion it is wise to feign Folly.

CHAPTER III. — That to preserve a newly acquired Freedom we must slay the Sons of Brutus.

CHAPTER IV. — That an Usurper is never safe in his Princedom while those live whom he has deprived of it.

CHAPTER V. — How an Hereditary King may come to lose his Kingdom.

CHAPTER VI. — Of Conspiracies.

CHAPTER VII. — Why it is that changes from Freedom to Servitude, and from Servitude to Freedom, are sometimes made without Bloodshed, but at other times reek with Blood.

CHAPTER VIII. — That he who would effect Changes in a Commonwealth, must give heed to its Character and Condition

CHAPTER IX. — That to enjoy constant good Fortune we must change with the Times.

CHAPTER X. — That a Captain cannot escape Battle when his Enemy forces it on him at all risks.

CHAPTER XI. — That one who has to contend with many, though he be weaker than they, will prevail if he can withstand their first onset.

CHAPTER XII. — A prudent Captain will do what he can to make it necessary for his own Soldiers to fight, and to relieve his Enemy from that necessity.

CHAPTER XIII. — Whether we may trust more to a valiant Captain with a weak Army, or to a valiant Army with a weak Captain.

CHAPTER XIV. — Of the effect produced in Battle by strange and unexpected Sights or Sounds.

CHAPTER XV. — That one and not many should head an Army: and why it is harmful to have more Leaders than one.

CHAPTER XVI. — That in Times of Difficulty true Worth is sought after; whereas in quiet Times it is not the most deserving, but those who are recommended by Wealth or Connection who are most in favour.

CHAPTER XVII. — That we are not to offend a Man, and then send him to fill an important Office or Command.

CHAPTER XVIII. — That it is the highest Quality of a Captain to be able to forestall the designs of his Adversary.

CHAPTER XIX. — Whether Indulgence or Severity be more necessary for controlling a Multitude.

CHAPTER XX. — How one humane act availed more with the men of Falerii, than all the might of the Roman Arms.

CHAPTER XXI. — How it happened that Hannibal pursuing a course contrary to that taken by Scipio, wrought the same results in Italy which the other achieved in Spain.

CHAPTER XXII. — That the severity of Manlius Torquatus and the gentleness of Valerius Corvinus won for both the same Glory.

CHAPTER XXIII. — Why Camillus was banished from Rome.

CHAPTER XXIV. — That prolonged Commands brought Rome to Servitude.

CHAPTER XXV. — Of the poverty of Cincinnatus and of many other Roman Citizens.

CHAPTER XXVI. — How Women are a cause of the ruin of States.

CHAPTER XXVII.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

CHAPTER XXIX. — That the Faults of a People are due to its Prince.

CHAPTER XXX. — That a Citizen who seeks by his personal influence to render signal service to his Country, must first stand clear of Envy. How a City should prepare for its defence on the approach of an Enemy.

CHAPTER XXXI. — That strong Republics and valiant Men preserve through every change the same Spirit and Bearing.

CHAPTER XXXII. — Of the methods which some have used to make Peace impossible.

CHAPTER XXXIII. — That to insure victory in battle you must inspire your Men with confidence in one another and in you.

CHAPTER XXXIV. — By what reports, rumours, or surmises the Citizens of a Republic are led to favour a Fellow-citizen: and-whether the Magistracies are bestowed with better judgment by a People or by a Prince.

CHAPTER XXXV. — Of the Danger incurred in being the first to recommend new Measures; and that the more unusual the Measures the greater the Danger.

CHAPTER XXXVI. — Why it has been and still may be affirmed of the Gauls, that at the beginning of a fray they are more than Men, but afterwards less than Women.

CHAPTER XXXVII. — Whether a general engagement should be preceded by skirmishes; and how, avoiding these, we may get knowledge of a new Enemy.

CHAPTER XXXVIII. — Of the Qualities of a Captain in whom his Soldiers can confide.

CHAPTER XXXIX. — That a Captain should have good knowledge of Places.

CHAPTER XL. — That Fraud is fair in War.

CHAPTER XLI. — That our Country is to be defended by Honour or by Dishonour; and in either way is well defended.

CHAPTER XLII. — That Promises made on Compulsion are not to be observed.

CHAPTER XLIII. — That Men born in the same Province retain through all Times nearly the same Character.

CHAPTER XLIV. — That where ordinary methods fail, Hardihood and Daring often succeed.

CHAPTER XLV. — Whether in battle it is better to await and repel the Enemy’s attack, or to anticipate it by an impetuous onset.

CHAPTER XLVI. — How the Characteristics of Families come to be perpetuated.

CHAPTER XLVII. — That love of his Country should lead a good Citizen to forget private Wrongs.

CHAPTER XLVIII. — That on finding an Enemy make what seems a grave blunder, we should suspect some fraud to lurk behind.

CHAPTER XLIX. — That a Commonwealth to preserve its Freedom has constant need of new Ordinances. Of the services in respect of which Quintius Fabius received the surname of Maximus.

TO PROFESSOR PASQUALE VILLARI.

DEAR PROFESSOR VILLARI,

Permit me to inscribe your name on a translation of Machiavelli’s
Discourses which I had your encouragement to undertake, and in which I
have done my best to preserve something of the flavour of the original.
Yours faithfully,

NINIAN HILL THOMSON.

FLORENCE, May 17, 1883.

NICCOLÒ MACHIAVELLI TO ZANOBI BUONDELMONTI AND COSIMO RUCELLAI HEALTH.

I send you a gift, which if it answers ill the obligations I owe you, is at any rate the greatest which Niccolò Machiavelli has it in his power to offer. For in it I have expressed whatever I have learned, or have observed for myself during a long experience and constant study of human affairs. And since neither you nor any other can expect more at my hands, you cannot complain if I have not given you more.

You may indeed lament the poverty of my wit, since what I have to say is but poorly said; and tax the weakness of my judgment, which on many points may have erred in its conclusions. But granting all this, I know not which of us is less beholden to the other: I to you, who have forced me to write what of myself I never should have written; or you to me, who have written what can give you no content.

Take this, however, in the spirit in which all that comes from a friend should be taken, in respect whereof we always look more to the intention of the giver than to the quality of the gift. And, believe me, that in one thing only I find satisfaction, namely, in knowing that while in many matters I may have made mistakes, at least I have not been mistaken in choosing you before all others as the persons to whom I dedicate these Discourses; both because I seem to myself, in doing so, to have shown a little gratitude for kindness received, and at the same time to have departed from the hackneyed custom which leads many authors to inscribe their works to some Prince, and blinded by hopes of favour or reward, to praise him as possessed of every virtue; whereas with more reason they might reproach him as contaminated with every shameful vice.

To avoid which error I have chosen, not those who are but those who from their infinite merits deserve to be Princes; not such persons as have it in their power to load me with honours, wealth, and preferment, but such as though they lack the power, have all the will to do so. For men, if they would judge justly, should esteem those who are, and not those whose means enable them to be generous; and in like manner those who know how to govern kingdoms, rather than those who possess the government without such knowledge. For Historians award higher praise to Hiero of Syracuse when in a private station than to Perseus the Macedonian when a King affirming that while the former lacked nothing that a Prince should have save the name, the latter had nothing of the King but the kingdom.

Make the most, therefore, of this good or this evil, as you may esteem it, which you have brought upon yourselves; and should you persist in the mistake of thinking my opinions worthy your attention, I shall not fail to proceed with the rest of the History in the manner promised in my Preface. Farewell.

BOOK I.

PREFACE.

Albeit the jealous temper of mankind, ever more disposed to censure than to praise the work of others, has constantly made the pursuit of new methods and systems no less perilous than the search after unknown lands and seas; nevertheless, prompted by that desire which nature has implanted in me, fearlessly to undertake whatsoever I think offers a common benefit to all, I enter on a path which, being hitherto untrodden by any, though it involve me in trouble and fatigue, may yet win me thanks from those who judge my efforts in a friendly spirit. And although my feeble discernment, my slender experience of current affairs, and imperfect knowledge of ancient events, render these efforts of mine defective and of no great utility, they may at least open the way to some other, who, with better parts and sounder reasoning and judgment, shall carry out my design; whereby, if I gain no credit, at all events I ought to incur no blame.

When I see antiquity held in such reverence, that to omit other instances, the mere fragment of some ancient statue is often bought at a great price, in order that the purchaser may keep it by him to adorn his house, or to have it copied by those who take delight in this art; and how these, again, strive with all their skill to imitate it in their various works; and when, on the other hand, I find those noble labours which history shows to have been wrought on behalf of the monarchies and republics of old times, by kings, captains, citizens, lawgivers, and others who have toiled for the good of their country, rather admired than followed, nay, so absolutely renounced by every one that not a trace of that antique worth is now left among us, I cannot but at once marvel and grieve; at this inconsistency; and all the more because I perceive that, in civil disputes between citizens, and in the bodily disorders into which men fall, recourse is always had to the decisions and remedies, pronounced or prescribed by the ancients.

For the civil law is no more than the opinions delivered by the ancient jurisconsults, which, being reduced to a system, teach the jurisconsults of our own times how to determine; while the healing art is simply the recorded experience of the old physicians, on which our modern physicians found their practice. And yet, in giving laws to a commonwealth, in maintaining States and governing kingdoms, in organizing armies and conducting wars, in dealing with subject nations, and in extending a State’s dominions, we find no prince, no republic, no captain, and no citizen who resorts to the example of the ancients.

This I persuade myself is due, not so much to the feebleness to which the present methods of education have brought the world, or to the injury which a pervading apathy has wrought in many provinces and cities of Christendom, as to the want of a right intelligence of History, which renders men incapable in reading it to extract its true meaning or to relish its flavour. Whence it happens that by far the greater number of those who read History, take pleasure in following the variety of incidents which it presents, without a thought to imitate them; judging such imitation to be not only difficult but impossible; as though the heavens, the sun, the elements, and man himself were no longer the same as they formerly were as regards motion, order, and power.

Desiring to rescue men from this error, I have thought fit to note down with respect to all those books of Titus Livius which have escaped the malignity of Time, whatever seems to me essential to a right understanding of ancient and modern affairs; so that any who shall read these remarks of mine, may reap from them that profit for the sake of which a knowledge of History is to be sought. And although the task be arduous, still, with the help of those at whose instance I assumed the burthen, I hope to carry it forward so far, that another shall have no long way to go to bring it to its destination.

CHAPTER I. — Of the Beginnings of Cities in general, and in particular of that of Rome.

No one who reads how the city of Rome had its beginning, who were its founders, and what its ordinances and laws, will marvel that so much excellence was maintained in it through many ages, or that it grew afterwards to be so great an Empire.

And, first, as touching its origin, I say, that all cities have been founded either by the people of the country in which they stand, or by strangers. Cities have their origins in the former of these two ways when the inhabitants of a country find that they cannot live securely if they live dispersed in many and small societies, each of them unable, whether from its situation or its slender numbers, to stand alone against the attacks of its enemies; on whose approach there is no time left to unite for defence without abandoning many strongholds, and thus becoming an easy prey to the invader. To escape which dangers, whether of their own motion or at the instance of some of greater authority among them, they restrict themselves to dwell together in certain places, which they think will be more convenient to live in and easier to defend.

Among many cities taking their origin in this way were Athens and Venice; the former of which, for reasons like those just now mentioned, was built by a scattered population under the direction of Theseus. To escape the wars which, on the decay of the Roman Empire daily renewed in Italy by the arrival of fresh hordes of Barbarians, numerous refugees, sheltering in certain little islands in a corner of the Adriatic Sea, gave beginning to Venice; where, without any recognized leader to direct them, they agreed to live together under such laws as they thought best suited to maintain them. And by reason of the prolonged tranquility which their position secured, they being protected by the narrow sea and by the circumstance that the tribes who then harassed Italy had no ships wherewith to molest them, they were able from very small beginnings to attain to that greatness they now enjoy.

In the second case, namely of a city being founded by strangers, the settlers are either wholly independent, or they are controlled by others, as where colonies are sent forth either by a prince or by a republic, to relieve their countries of an excessive population, or to defend newly acquired territories which it is sought to secure at small cost. Of this sort many cities were settled by the Romans, and in all parts of their dominions. It may also happen that such cities are founded by a prince merely to add to his renown, without any intention on his part to dwell there, as Alexandria was built by Alexander the Great. Cities like these, not having had their beginning in freedom, seldom make such progress as to rank among the chief towns of kingdoms.

The city of Florence belongs to that class of towns which has not been independent from the first; for whether we ascribe its origin to the soldiers of Sylla, or, as some have conjectured, to the mountaineers of Fiesole (who, emboldened by the long peace which prevailed throughout the world during the reign of Octavianus, came down to occupy the plain on the banks of the Arno), in either case, it was founded under the auspices of Rome nor could, at first, make other progress than was permitted by the grace of the sovereign State.

The origin of cities may be said to be independent when a people, either by themselves or under some prince, are constrained by famine, pestilence, or war to leave their native land and seek a new habitation. Settlers of this sort either establish themselves in cities which they find ready to their hand in the countries of which they take possession, as did Moses; or they build new ones, as did Æneas. It is in this last case that the merits of a founder and the good fortune of the city founded are best seen; and this good fortune will be more or less remarkable according to the greater or less capacity of him who gives the city its beginning.

The capacity of a founder is known in two ways: by his choice of a site, or by the laws which he frames. And since men act either of necessity or from choice, and merit may seem greater where choice is more restricted, we have to consider whether it may not be well to choose a sterile district as the site of a new city, in order that the inhabitants, being constrained to industry, and less corrupted by ease, may live in closer union, finding less cause for division in the poverty of their land; as was the case in Ragusa, and in many other cities built in similar situations. Such a choice were certainly the wisest and the most advantageous, could men be content to enjoy what is their own without seeking to lord it over others. But since to be safe they must be strong, they are compelled avoid these barren districts, and to plant themselves in more fertile regions; where, the fruitfulness of the soil enabling them to increase and multiply, they may defend themselves against any who attack them, and overthrow any who would withstand their power.

And as for that languor which the situation might breed, care must be had that hardships which the site does not enforce, shall be enforced by the laws; and that the example of those wise nations be imitated, who, inhabiting most fruitful and delightful countries, and such as were likely to rear a listless and effeminate race, unfit for all manly exercises, in order to obviate the mischief wrought by the amenity and relaxing influence of the soil and climate, subjected all who were to serve as soldiers to the severest training; whence it came that better soldiers were raised in these countries than in others by nature rugged and barren. Such, of old, was the kingdom of the Egyptians, which, though of all lands the most bountiful, yet, by the severe training which its laws enforced, produced most valiant soldiers, who, had their names not been lost in antiquity, might be thought to deserve more praise than Alexander the Great and many besides, whose memory is still fresh in men’s minds. And even in recent times, any one contemplating the kingdom of the Soldan, and the military order of the Mamelukes before they were destroyed by Selim the Grand Turk, must have seen how carefully they trained their soldiers in every kind of warlike exercise; showing thereby how much they dreaded that indolence to which their genial soil and climate might have disposed them, unless neutralized by strenuous laws. I say, then, that it is a prudent choice to found your city in a fertile region when the effects of that fertility are duly balanced by the restraint of the laws.

When Alexander the Great thought to add to his renown by founding a city, Dinocrates the architect came and showed him how he might build it on Mount Athos, which not only offered a strong position, but could be handled that the city built there might present a semblance of the human form, which would be a thing strange and striking, and worthy of so great a monarch. But on Alexander asking how the inhabitants were to live, Dinocrates answered that he had not thought of that. Whereupon, Alexander laughed, and leaving Mount Athos as it stood, built Alexandria; where, the fruitfulness of the soil, and the vicinity of the Nile and the sea, might attract many to take up their abode.

To him, therefore, who inquires into the origin of Rome, if he assign its beginning to Æneas, it will seem to be of those cities which were founded by strangers if to Romulus, then of those founded by the natives of the country. But in whichever class we place it, it will be seen to have had its beginning in freedom, and not in subjection to another State. It will be seen, too, as hereafter shall be noted, how strict was the discipline which the laws instituted by Romulus, Numa, and its other founders made compulsory upon it; so that neither its fertility, the proximity of the sea, the number of its victories, nor the extent of its dominion, could for many centuries corrupt it, but, on the contrary, maintained it replete with such virtues as were never matched in any other commonwealth.

And because the things done by Rome, and which Titus Livius has celebrated, were effected at home or abroad by public or by private wisdom, I shall begin by treating, and noting the consequences of those things done at home in accordance with the public voice, which seem most to merit attention; and to this object the whole of this first Book or first Part of my Discourses, shall be directed.

CHAPTER II. — Of the various kinds of Government; and to which of them the Roman Commonwealth belonged.

I forego all discussion concerning those cities which at the outset have been dependent upon others, and shall speak only of those which from their earliest beginnings have stood entirely clear of all foreign control, being governed from the first as pleased themselves, whether as republics or as princedoms.

These as they have had different origins, so likewise have had different laws and institutions. For to some at their very first commencement, or not long after, laws have been given by a single legislator, and all at one time; like those given by Lycurgus to the Spartans; while to others they have been given at different times, as need rose or accident determined; as in the case of Rome. That republic, indeed, may be called happy, whose lot has been to have a founder so prudent as to provide for it laws under which it can continue to live securely, without need to amend them; as we find Sparta preserving hers for eight hundred years, without deterioration and without any dangerous disturbance. On the other hand, some measure of unhappiness attaches to the State which, not having yielded itself once for all into the hands of a single wise legislator, is obliged to recast its institutions for itself; and of such States, by far the most unhappy is that which is furthest removed from a sound system of government, by which I mean that its institutions lie wholly outside the path which might lead it to a true and perfect end. For it is scarcely possible that a State in this position can ever, by any chance, set itself to rights, whereas another whose institutions are imperfect, if it have made a good beginning and such as admits of its amendment, may in the course of events arrive at perfection. It is certain, however, that such States can never be reformed without great risk; for, as a rule, men will accept no new law altering the institutions of their State, unless the necessity for such a change be demonstrated; and since this necessity cannot arise without danger, the State may easily be overthrown before the new order of things is established. In proof whereof we may instance the republic of Florence, which was reformed in the year 1502, in consequence of the affair of Arezzo, but was ruined in 1512, in consequence of the affair of Prato.

Desiring, therefore, to discuss the nature of the government of Rome, and to ascertain the accidental circumstances which brought it to its perfection, I say, as has been said before by many who have written of Governments, that of these there are three forms, known by the names Monarchy, Aristocracy, and Democracy, and that those who give its institutions to a State have recourse to one or other of these three, according as it suits their purpose. Other, and, as many have thought, wiser teachers, will have it, that there are altogether six forms of government, three of them utterly bad, the other three good in themselves, but so readily corrupted that they too are apt to become hurtful. The good are the three above named; the bad, three others dependent upon these, and each so like that to which it is related, that it is easy to pass imperceptibly from the one to the other. For a Monarchy readily becomes a Tyranny, an Aristocracy an Oligarchy, while a Democracy tends to degenerate into Anarchy. So that if the founder of a State should establish any one of these three forms of Government, he establishes it for a short time only, since no precaution he may take can prevent it from sliding into its contrary, by reason of the close resemblance which, in this case, the virtue bears to the vice.

These diversities in the form of Government spring up among men by chance. For in the beginning of the world, its inhabitants, being few in number, for a time lived scattered after the fashion of beasts; but afterwards, as they increased and multiplied, gathered themselves into societies, and, the better to protect themselves, began to seek who among them was the strongest and of the highest courage, to whom, making him their head, they tendered obedience. Next arose the knowledge of such things as are honourable and good, as opposed to those which are bad and shameful. For observing that when a man wronged his benefactor, hatred was universally felt for the one and sympathy for the other, and that the ungrateful were blamed, while those who showed gratitude were honoured, and reflecting that the wrongs they saw done to others might be done to themselves, to escape these they resorted to making laws and fixing punishments against any who should transgress them; and in this way grew the recognition of Justice. Whence it came that afterwards, in choosing their rulers, men no longer looked about for the strongest, but for him who was the most prudent and the most just.

But, presently, when sovereignty grew to be hereditary and no longer elective, hereditary sovereigns began to degenerate from their ancestors, and, quitting worthy courses, took up the notion that princes had nothing to do but to surpass the rest of the world in sumptuous display and wantonness, and whatever else ministers to pleasure so that the prince coming to be hated, and therefore to feel fear, and passing from fear to infliction of injuries, a tyranny soon sprang up. Forthwith there began movements to overthrow the prince, and plots and conspiracies against him undertaken not by those who were weak, or afraid for themselves, but by such as being conspicuous for their birth, courage, wealth, and station, could not tolerate the shameful life of the tyrant. The multitude, following the lead of these powerful men, took up arms against the prince and, he being got rid of, obeyed these others as their liberators; who, on their part, holding in hatred the name of sole ruler, formed themselves into a government and at first, while the recollection of past tyranny was still fresh, observed the laws they themselves made, and postponing personal advantage to the common welfare, administered affairs both publicly and privately with the utmost diligence and zeal. But this government passing, afterwards, to their descendants who, never having been taught in the school of Adversity, knew nothing of the vicissitudes of Fortune, these not choosing to rest content with mere civil equality, but abandoning themselves to avarice, ambition, and lust, converted, without respect to civil rights what had been a government of the best into a government of the few; and so very soon met with the same fate as the tyrant.

For the multitude loathing its rulers, lent itself to any who ventured, in whatever way, to attack them; when some one man speedily arose who with the aid of the people overthrew them. But the recollection of the tyrant and of the wrongs suffered at his hands being still fresh in the minds of the people, who therefore felt no desire to restore the monarchy, they had recourse to a popular government, which they established on such a footing that neither king nor nobles had any place in it. And because all governments inspire respect at the first, this government also lasted for a while, but not for long, and seldom after the generation which brought it into existence had died out. For, suddenly, liberty passed into license, wherein neither private worth nor public authority was respected, but, every one living as he liked, a thousand wrongs were done daily. Whereupon, whether driven by necessity, or on the suggestion of some wiser man among them and to escape anarchy, the people reverted to a monarchy, from which, step by step, in the manner and for the causes already assigned, they came round once more to license. For this is the circle revolving within which all States are and have been governed; although in the same State the same forms of Government rarely repeat themselves, because hardly any State can have such vitality as to pass through such a cycle more than once, and still together. For it may be expected that in some sea of disaster, when a State must always be wanting prudent counsels and in strength, it will become subject to some neighbouring and better-governed State; though assuming this not to happen, it might well pass for an indefinite period from one of these forms of government to another.

I say, then, that all these six forms of government are pernicious — the three good kinds, from their brief duration the three bad, from their inherent badness. Wise legislators therefore, knowing these defects, and avoiding each of these forms in its simplicity, have made choice of a form which shares in the qualities of all the first three, and which they judge to be more stable and lasting than any of these separately. For where we have a monarchy, an aristocracy, and a democracy existing together in the same city, each of the three serves as a check upon the other.

Among those who have earned special praise by devising a constitution of this nature, was Lycurgus, who so framed the laws of Sparta as to assign their proper functions to kings, nobles, and commons; and in this way established a government, which, to his great glory and to the peace and tranquility of his country, lasted for more than eight hundred years. The contrary, however, happened in the case of Solon; who by the turn he gave to the institutions of Athens, created there a purely democratic government, of such brief duration, that I himself lived to witness the beginning of the despotism of Pisistratus. And although, forty years later, the heirs of Pisistratus were driven out, and Athens recovered her freedom, nevertheless because she reverted to the same form government as had been established by Solon, she could maintain it for only a hundred years more; for though to preserve it, many ordinances were passed for repressing the ambition of the great and the turbulence of the people, against which Solon had not provided, still, since neither the monarchic nor the aristocratic element was given a place in her constitution, Athens, as compared with Sparta, had but a short life.

But let us now turn to Rome, which city, although she had no Lycurgus to give her from the first such a constitution as would preserve her long in freedom, through a series of accidents, caused by the contests between the commons and the senate, obtained by chance what the foresight of her founders failed to provide. So that Fortune, if she bestowed not her first favours on Rome, bestowed her second; because, although the original institutions of this city were defective, still they lay not outside the true path which could bring them to perfection. For Romulus and the other kings made many and good laws, and such as were not incompatible with freedom; but because they sought to found a kingdom and not a commonwealth, when the city became free many things were found wanting which in the interest of liberty it was necessary to supply, since these kings had not supplied them. And although the kings of Rome lost their sovereignty, in the manner and for the causes mentioned above, nevertheless those who drove them out, by at once creating two consuls to take their place, preserved in Rome the regal authority while banishing from it the regal throne, so that as both senate and consuls were included in that republic, it in fact possessed two of the elements above enumerated, to wit, the monarchic and the aristocratic.

It then only remained to assign its place to the popular element, and the Roman nobles growing insolent from causes which shall be noticed hereafter, the commons against them, when, not to lose the whole of their power, they were forced to concede a share to the people; while with the share which remained, the senate and consuls retained so much authority that they still held their own place in the republic. In this way the tribunes of the people came to be created, after whose creation the stability of the State was much augmented, since each the three forms of government had now its due influence allowed it. And such was the good fortune of Rome that although her government passed from the kings to the nobles, and from these to the people, by the steps and for the reasons noticed above, still the entire authority of the kingly element was not sacrificed to strengthen the authority of the nobles, nor were the nobles divested of their authority to bestow it on the commons; but three, blending together, made up a perfect State; which perfection, as shall be fully shown in the next two Chapters, was reached through the dissensions of the commons and the senate.

CHAPTER III. — Of the Accidents which led in Rome to the creation of Tribunes of the People; whereby the Republic was made more perfect.

They who lay the foundations of a State and furnish it with laws must, as is shown by all who have treated of civil government, and by examples of which history is full, assume that ‘all men are bad, and will always, when they have free field, give loose to their evil inclinations; and that if these for a while remain hidden, it is owing to some secret cause, which, from our having no contrary experience, we do not recognize at once, but which is afterwards revealed by Time, of whom we speak as the father of all truth.

In Rome, after the expulsion of the Tarquins, it seemed as though the closest union prevailed between the senate and the commons, and that the nobles, laying aside their natural arrogance, had learned so to sympathize with the people as to have become supportable by all, even of the humblest rank. This dissimulation remained undetected, and its causes concealed, while the Tarquins lived; for the nobles dreading the Tarquins, and fearing that the people, if they used them ill, might take part against them, treated them with kindness. But no sooner were the Tarquins got rid of, and the nobles thus relieved of their fears, when they began to spit forth against the commons all the venom which before they had kept in their breasts, offending and insulting them in every way they could; confirming what I have observed already, that men never behave well unless compelled, and that whenever they are free to act as they please, and are under no restraint everything falls at once into confusion and disorder. Wherefore it has been said that as poverty and hunger are needed to make men industrious, so laws are needed to make them good. When we do well without laws, laws are not needed; but when good customs are absent, laws are at once required.

On the extinction of the Tarquins, therefore, the dread of whom had kept the nobles in check, some new safeguard had to be contrived, which should effect the same result as had been effected by the Tarquins while they lived. Accordingly, after much uproar and confusion, and much danger of violence ensuing between the commons and the nobles, to insure the safety of the former, tribunes were created, and were invested with such station and authority as always afterwards enabled them to stand between the people and the senate, and to resist the insolence of the nobles.

CHAPTER IV. — That the Dissensions between the Senate and Commons of Rome, made Rome free and powerful.

Touching those tumults which prevailed in Rome from the extinction of the Tarquins to the creation of the tribunes the discussion of which I have no wish to avoid, and as to certain other matters of a like nature, I desire to say something in opposition to the opinion of many who assert that Rome was a turbulent city, and had fallen into utter disorder, that had not her good fortune and military prowess made amends for other defects, she would have been inferior to every other republic.

I cannot indeed deny that the good fortune and the armies of Rome were the causes of her empire; yet it certainly seems to me that those holding this opinion fail to perceive, that in a State where there are good soldiers there must be good order, and, generally speaking, good fortune. And looking to the other circumstances of this city, I affirm that those who condemn these dissensions between the nobles and the commons, condemn what was the prime cause of Rome becoming free; and give more heed to the tumult and uproar wherewith these dissensions were attended, than to the good results which followed from them; not reflecting that while in every republic there are two conflicting factions, that of the people and that of the nobles, it is in this conflict that all laws favourable to freedom have their origin, as may readily be seen to have been the case in Rome. For from the time of the Tarquins to that of the Gracchi, a period of over three hundred years, the tumults in Rome seldom gave occasion to punishment by exile, and very seldom to bloodshed. So that we cannot truly declare those tumults to have been disastrous, or that republic to have been disorderly, which during all that time, on account of her internal broils, banished no more than eight or ten of her citizens, put very few to death, and rarely inflicted money penalties. Nor can we reasonably pronounce that city ill-governed wherein we find so many instances of virtue; for virtuous actions have their origin in right training, right training in wise laws, and wise laws in these very tumults which many would thoughtlessly condemn. For he who looks well to the results of these tumults will find that they did not lead to banishments, nor to violence hurtful to the common good, but to laws and ordinances beneficial to the public liberty. And should any object that the behaviour of the Romans was extravagant and outrageous; that for the assembled people to be heard shouting against the senate, the senate against the people; for the whole commons to be seen rushing wildly through the streets, closing their shops, and quitting the town, were things which might well affright him even who only reads of them; it may be answered, that the inhabitants of all cities, more especially of cities which seek to make use of the people in matters of importance, have their own ways of giving expression to their wishes; among which the city of Rome had the custom, that when its people sought to have a law passed they followed one or another of those courses mentioned above, or else refused to be enrolled as soldiers when, to pacify them, something of their demands had to be conceded. But the demands of a free people are hurtful to freedom, since they originate either in being oppressed, or in the fear that they are about to be so. When this fear is groundless, it finds its remedy in public meetings, wherein some worthy person may come forward and show the people by argument that they are deceiving themselves. For though they be ignorant, the people are not therefore, as Cicero says, incapable of being taught the truth, but are readily convinced when it is told them by one in whose honesty they can trust.

We should, therefore, be careful how we censure the government of Rome, and should reflect that all the great results effected by that republic, could not have come about without good cause. And if the popular tumults led the creation of the tribunes, they merit all praise; since these magistrates not only gave its due influence to the popular voice in the government, but also acted as the guardians of Roman freedom, as shall be clearly shown in the following Chapter.

CHAPTER V. — Whether the Guardianship of public Freedom is safer in the hands of the Commons or of the Nobles; and whether those who seek to acquire Power or they who seek to maintain it are the greater cause of Commotions.

Of the provisions made by wise founders of republics, one of the most necessary is for the creation of a guardianship of liberty; for according as this is placed in good or bad hands, the freedom of the State will be more or less lasting. And because in every republic we find the two parties of nobles and commons, the question arises, to which of these two this guardianship can most safely be entrusted. Among the Lacedæmonians of old, as now with the Venetians, it was placed in the hands of the nobles, but with the Romans it was vested in the commons. We have, therefore, to determine which of these States made the wiser choice. If we look to reasons, something is to be said on both sides of the question; though were we to look to results, we should have to pronounce in favour of the nobles, inasmuch as the liberty of Sparta and Venice has had a longer life than that of Rome.

As touching reasons, it may be pleaded for the Roman method, that they are most fit to have charge of a thing, who least desire to pervert it to their own ends. And, doubtless, if we examine the aims which the nobles and the commons respectively set before them, we shall find in the former a great desire to dominate, in the latter merely a desire not to be dominated over, and hence a greater attachment to freedom, since they have less to gain than the others by destroying it. Wherefore, when the commons are put forward as the defenders of liberty, they may be expected to take better care of it, and, as they have no desire to tamper with it themselves, to be less apt to suffer others to do so.

On the other hand, he who defends the method followed by the Spartans and Venetians, may urge, that by confiding this guardianship to the nobles, two desirable ends are served: first, that from being allowed to retain in their own hands a weapon which makes them the stronger party in the State, the ambition of this class is more fully satisfied; and, second, that an authority is withdrawn from the unstable multitude which as used by them is likely to lead to endless disputes and tumults, and to drive the nobles into dangerous and desperate courses. In instance whereof might be cited the case of Rome itself, wherein the tribunes of the people being vested with this authority, not content to have one consul a plebeian, insisted on having both; and afterwards laid claim to the censorship, the prætorship and all the other magistracies in the city. Nor was this enough for them, but, carried away by the same factious spirit, they began after a time to pay court to such men as they thought able to attack the nobility, and so gave occasion to the rise of Marius and the overthrow of Rome.

Wherefore one who weighs both sides of the question well, might hesitate which party he should choose as the guardian of public liberty, being uncertain which class is more mischievous in a commonwealth, that which would acquire what it has not, or that which would keep the authority which it has already. But, on the whole, on a careful balance of arguments we may sum up thus: — Either we have to deal with a republic eager like Rome to extend its power, or with one content merely to maintain itself; in the former case it is necessary to do in all things as Rome did; in the latter, for the reasons and in the manner to be shown in the following Chapter, we may imitate Venice and Sparta.

But reverting to the question which class of citizens is more mischievous in a republic, those who seek to acquire or those who fear to lose what they have acquired already, I note that when Marcus Menenius and Marcus Fulvius, both of them men of plebeian birth, were made the one dictator, the other master of the knights, that they might inquire into certain plots against Rome contrived in Capua, they had at the same time authority given them by the people to investigate whether, in Rome itself, irregular and corrupt practices had been used to obtain the consulship and other honours of the city. The nobles suspecting that the powers thus conferred were to be turned against them, everywhere gave out that if honours had been sought by any by irregular and unworthy means, it was not by them, but by the plebeians, who, with neither birth nor merit to recommend them, had need to resort to corruption. And more particularly they accused the dictator himself. And so telling was the effect of these charges, that Menenius, after haranguing the people and complaining to them of the calumnies circulated against him, laid down his dictatorship, and submitted himself to whatever judgment might be passed upon him. When his cause came to be tried he was acquitted; but at the hearing it was much debated, whether he who would retain power or he who would acquire it, is the more dangerous citizen; the desires of both being likely to lead to the greatest disorders.

Nevertheless, I believe that, as a rule, disorders are more commonly occasioned by those seeking to preserve power, because in them the fear of loss breeds the same passions as are felt by those seeking to acquire; since men never think they hold what they have securely, unless when they are gaining something new from others. It is also to be said that their position enables them to operate changes with less effort and greater efficacy. Further, it may be added, that their corrupt and insolent behaviour inflames the minds of those who have nothing, with the desire to have; either for the sake of punishing their adversaries by despoiling them, or to obtain for themselves a share of those riches and honours which they see the others abuse.

CHAPTER VI. — Whether it was possible in Rome to contrive such a Government as would have composed the Differences between the Commons and the Senate.

I have spoken above of the effects produced in Rome by the controversies between the commons and the senate. Now, as these lasted down to the time of the Gracchi, when they brought about the overthrow of freedom, some may think it matter for regret that Rome should not have achieved the great things she did, without being torn by such disputes. Wherefore, it seems to me worth while to consider whether the government of Rome could ever have been constituted in such a way as to prevent like controversies.

In making this inquiry we must first look to those republics which have enjoyed freedom for a great while, undisturbed by any violent contentions or tumults, and see what their government was, and whether it would have been possible to introduce it into Rome. Of such republics we have an example in ancient times in Sparta, in modern times in Venice, of both which States I have already made mention. Sparta created for herself a government consisting of a king and a limited senate. Venice has made no distinction in the titles of her rulers, all qualified to take part in her government being classed under the one designation of “Gentlemen,” an arrangement due rather to chance than to the foresight of those who gave this State its constitution. For many persons, from causes already noticed, seeking shelter on these rocks on which Venice now stands, after they had so multiplied that if they were to continue to live together it became necessary for them to frame laws, established a form of government; and assembling often in their councils to consult for the interests of their city, when it seemed to them that their numbers were sufficient for political existence, they closed the entrance to civil rights against all who came afterwards to live there, not allowing them to take any part in the management of affairs. And when in course of time there came to be many citizens excluded from the government, to add to the importance of the governing body, they named these “Gentlemen” (gentiluomini), the others “Plebeians” (popolani). And this distinction could grow up and maintain itself without causing disturbance; for as at the time of its origin, whosoever then lived in Venice was made one of the governing body, none had reason to complain; while those who came to live there afterwards, finding the government in a completed form, had neither ground nor opportunity to object. No ground, because nothing was taken from them; and no opportunity, because those in authority kept them under control, and never employed them in affairs in which they could acquire importance. Besides which, they who came later to dwell in Venice were not so numerous as to destroy all proportion between the governors and the governed; the number of the “Gentlemen” being as great as, or greater than that of the “Plebeians.” For these reasons, therefore, it was possible for Venice to make her constitution what it is, and to maintain it without divisions.

Sparta, again, being governed, as I have said, by a king and a limited senate, was able to maintain herself for the long period she did, because, from the country being thinly inhabited and further influx of population forbidden, and from the laws of Lycurgus (the observance whereof removed all ground of disturbance) being held in high esteem, the citizens were able to continue long in unity. For Lycurgus having by his laws established in Sparta great equality as to property, but less equality as to rank, there prevailed there an equal poverty; and the commons were less ambitious, because the offices of the State, which were held to their exclusion, were confined to a few; and because the nobles never by harsh treatment aroused in them any desire to usurp these offices. And this was due to the Spartan kings, who, being appointed to that dignity for life, and placed in the midst of this nobility, had no stronger support to their authority than in defending the people against injustice. Whence it resulted that as the people neither feared nor coveted the power which they did not possess, the conflicts which might have arisen between them and the nobles were escaped, together with the causes which would have led to them; and in this way they were able to live long united. But of this unity in Sparta there were two chief causes: one, the fewness of its inhabitants, which allowed of their being governed by a few; the other, that by denying foreigners admission into their country, the people had less occasion to become corrupted, and never so increased in numbers as to prove troublesome to their few rulers.

Weighing all which circumstances, we see that to have kept Rome in the same tranquility wherein these republics were kept, one of two courses must have been followed by her legislators; for either, like the Venetians, they must have refrained from employing the commons in war, or else, like the Spartans, they must have closed their country to foreigners. Whereas, in both particulars, they did the opposite, arming the commons and increasing their number, and thus affording endless occasions for disorder. And had the Roman commonwealth grown to be more tranquil, this inconvenience would have resulted, that it must at the same time have grown weaker, since the road would have been closed to that greatness to which it came, for in removing the causes of her tumults, Rome must have interfered with the causes of her growth.

And he who looks carefully into the matter will find, that in all human affairs, we cannot rid ourselves of one inconvenience without running into another. So that if you would have your people numerous and warlike, to the end that with their aid you may establish a great empire, you will have them of such a sort as you cannot afterwards control at your pleasure; while should you keep them few and unwarlike, to the end that you may govern them easily, you will be unable, should you extend your dominions, to preserve them, and will become so contemptible as to be the prey of any who attack you. For which reason in all our deliberations we ought to consider where we are likely to encounter least inconvenience, and accept that as the course to be preferred, since we shall never find any line of action entirely free from disadvantage.

Rome might, therefore, following the example of Sparta, have created a king for life and a senate of limited numbers, but desiring to become a great empire, she could not, like Sparta, have restricted the number of her citizens. So that to have created a king for life and a limited senate had been of little service to her.

Were any one, therefore, about to found a wholly new republic, he would have to consider whether he desired it to increase as Rome did in territory and dominion, or to continue within narrow limits. In the former case he would have to shape its constitution as nearly as possible on the pattern of the Roman, leaving room for dissensions and popular tumults, for without a great and warlike population no republic can ever increase, or increasing maintain itself. In the second case he might give his republic a constitution like that of Venice or Sparta; but since extension is the ruin of such republics, the legislator would have to provide in every possible way against the State which he had founded making any additions to its territories. For these, when superimposed upon a feeble republic, are sure to be fatal to it: as we see to have been the case with Sparta and Venice, the former of which, after subjugating nearly all Greece, on sustaining a trifling reverse, betrayed the insufficiency of her foundations, for when, after the revolt of Thebes under Pelopidas, other cities also rebelled, the Spartan kingdom was utterly overthrown. Venice in like manner, after gaining possession of a great portion of Italy (most of it not by her arms but by her wealth and subtlety), when her strength was put to the proof, lost all in one pitched battle.

I can well believe, then, that to found a republic which shall long endure, the best plan may be to give it internal institutions like those of Sparta or Venice; placing it in a naturally strong situation, and so fortifying it that none can expect to get the better of it easily, yet, at the same time, not making it so great as to be formidable to its neighbours; since by taking these precautions, it might long enjoy its independence. For there are two causes which lead to wars being made against a republic; one, your desire to be its master, the other the fear lest it should master you; both of which dangers the precaution indicated will go far to remove. For if, as we are to assume, this republic be well prepared for defence, and consequently difficult of attack, it will seldom or never happen that any one will form the design to attack it, and while it keeps within its own boundaries, and is seen from experience not to be influenced by ambition, no one will be led, out of fear for himself, to make war upon it, more particularly when its laws and constitution forbid its extension. And were it possible to maintain things in this equilibrium, I veritably believe that herein would be found the true form of political life, and the true tranquility of a republic. But all human affairs being in movement, and incapable of remaining as they are, they must either rise or fall; and to many conclusions to which we are not led by reason, we are brought by necessity. So that when we have given institutions to a State on the footing that it is to maintain itself without enlargement, should necessity require its enlargement, its foundations will be cut from below it, and its downfall quickly ensue. On the other hand, were a republic so favoured by Heaven as to lie under no necessity of making war, the result of this ease would be to make it effeminate and divided which two evils together, and each by itself, would insure its ruin. And since it is impossible, as I believe, to bring about an equilibrium, or to adhere strictly to the mean path, we must, in arranging our republic, consider what is the more honourable course for it to take, and so contrive that even if necessity compel its enlargement, it may be able to keep what it gains.

But returning to the point first raised, I believe it necessary for us to follow the method of the Romans and not that of the other republics, for I know of no middle way. We must, consequently, put up with those dissensions which arise between commons and senate, looking on them as evils which cannot be escaped if we would arrive at the greatness of Rome.

In connection with the arguments here used to prove that the authority of the tribunes was essential in Rome to the guardianship of freedom, we may naturally go on to show what advantages result to a republic from the power of impeachment; which, together with others, was conferred upon the tribunes; a subject to be noticed in the following Chapter.

CHAPTER VII. — That to preserve Liberty in a State there must exist the Right to accuse.

To those set forward in a commonwealth as guardians of public freedom, no more useful or necessary authority can be given than the power to accuse, either before the people, or before some council or tribunal, those citizens who in any way have offended against the liberty of their country.

A law of this kind has two effects most beneficial to a State: first, that the citizens from fear of being accused, do not engage in attempts hurtful to the State, or doing so, are put down at once and without respect of persons: and next, that a vent is given for the escape of all those evil humours which, from whatever cause, gather in cities against particular citizens; for unless an outlet be duly provided for these by the laws, they flow into irregular channels and overwhelm the State. There is nothing, therefore, which contributes so much to the stability and permanence of a State, as to take care that the fermentation of these disturbing humours be supplied by operation of law with a recognized outlet. This might be shown by many examples, but by none so clearly as by that of Coriolanus related by Livius, where he tells us, that at a time when the Roman nobles were angry with the plebeians (thinking that the appointment of tribunes for their protection had made them too powerful), it happened that Rome was visited by a grievous famine, to meet which the senate sent to Sicily for corn. But Coriolanus, hating the commons, sought to persuade the senate that now was the time to punish them, and to deprive them of the authority which they had usurped to the prejudice of the nobles, by withholding the distribution of corn, and so suffering them to perish of hunger. Which advice of his coming to the ears of the people, kindled them to such fury against him, that they would have slain him as he left the Senate House, had not the tribunes cited him to appear and answer before them to a formal charge.

In respect of this incident I repeat what I have just now said, how useful and necessary it is for republics to provide by their laws a channel by which the displeasure of the multitude against a single citizen may find a vent. For when none such is regularly provided, recourse will be had to irregular channels, and these will assuredly lead to much worse results. For when a citizen is borne down by the operation or the ordinary laws, even though he be wronged, little or no disturbance is occasioned to the state: the injury he suffers not being wrought by private violence, nor by foreign force, which are the causes of the overthrow of free institutions, but by public authority and in accordance with public ordinances, which, having definite limits set them, are not likely to pass beyond these so as to endanger the commonwealth. For proof of which I am content to rest on this old example of Coriolanus, since all may see what a disaster it would have been for Rome had he been violently put to death by the people. For, as between citizen and citizen, a wrong would have been done affording ground for fear, fear would have sought defence, defence have led to faction, faction to divisions in the State, and these to its ruin. But the matter being taken up by those whose office it was to deal with it, all the evils which must have followed had it been left in private hands were escaped.

In Florence, on the other hand, and in our own days, we have seen what violent commotions follow when the people cannot show their displeasure against particular citizens in a form recognized by the laws, in the instance of Francesco Valori, at one time looked upon as the foremost citizen of our republic. But many thinking him ambitious, and likely from his high spirit and daring to overstep the limits of civil freedom, and there being no way to oppose him save by setting up an adverse faction, the result was, that, apprehending irregular attacks, he sought to gain partisans for his support; while his opponents, on their side, having no course open to them of which the laws approved, resorted to courses of which the laws did not approve, and, at last, to open violence. And as his influence had to be attacked by unlawful methods, these were attended by injury not to him only, but to many other noble citizens; whereas, could he have been met by constitutional restraints, his power might have been broken without injury to any save himself. I might also cite from our Florentine history the fall of Piero Soderini, which had no other cause than there not being in our republic any law under which powerful and ambitious citizens can be impeached. For to form a tribunal by which a powerful citizen is to be tried, eight judges only are not enough; the judges must be numerous, because a few will always do the will of a few. But had there been proper methods for obtaining redress, either the people would have impeached Piero if he was guilty, and thus have given vent to their displeasure without calling in the Spanish army; or if he was innocent, would not have ventured, through fear of being accused themselves, to have taken proceedings against him. So that in either case the bitter spirit which was the cause of all the disorder would have had an end. Wherefore, when we find one of the parties in a State calling in a foreign power, we may safely conclude that it is because the defective laws of that State provide no escape for those malignant humours which are natural to men; which can best be done by arranging for an impeachment before a sufficient number of judges, and by giving countenance to this procedure. This was so well contrived in Rome that in spite of the perpetual struggle maintained between the commons and the senate, neither the senate nor the commons, nor any single citizen, ever sought redress at the hands of a foreign power; for having a remedy at home, there was no need to seek one abroad.

Although the examples above cited be proof sufficient of what I affirm, I desire to adduce one other, recorded by Titus Livius in his history, where he relates that a sister of Aruns having been violated by a Lucumo of Clusium, the chief of the Etruscan towns, Aruns being unable, from the interest of her ravisher, to avenge her, betook himself to the Gauls who ruled in the province we now name Lombardy, and besought them to come with an armed force to Clusium; showing them how with advantage to themselves they might avenge his wrongs. Now, had Aruns seen that he could have had redress through the laws of his country, he never would have resorted to these Barbarians for help.

But as the right to accuse is beneficial in a republic, so calumny, on the other hand, is useless and hurtful, as in the following Chapter I shall proceed to show.

CHAPTER VIII. — That Calumny is as hurtful in a Commonwealth as the power to accuse is useful.

Such were the services rendered to Rome by Furius Camillus in rescuing her from the oppression of the Gauls, that no Roman, however high his degree or station, held it derogatory to yield place to him, save only Manlius Capitolinus, who could not brook such glory and distinction being given to another. For he thought that in saving the Capitol, he had himself done as much as Camillus to preserve Rome, and that in respect of his other warlike achievements he was no whit behind him. So that, bursting with jealousy, and unable to remain at rest by reason of the other’s renown, and seeing no way to sow discord among the Fathers, he set himself to spread abroad sinister reports among the commons; throwing out, among other charges, that the treasure collected to be given to the Gauls, but which, afterwards, was withheld, had been embezzled by certain citizens, and if recovered might be turned to public uses in relieving the people from taxes or from private debts. These assertions so prevailed with the commons that they began to hold meetings and to raise what tumults they liked throughout the city. But this displeasing the senate, and the matter appearing to them grave and dangerous, they appointed a dictator to inquire into it, and to restrain the attacks of Manlius. The dictator, forthwith, caused Manlius to be cited before him; and these two were thus brought face to face in the presence of the whole city, the dictator surrounded by the nobles, and Manlius by the commons. The latter, being desired to say with whom the treasure of which he had spoken was to be found, since the senate were as anxious to know this as the commons, made no direct reply, but answered evasively that it was needless to tell them what they already knew. Whereupon the dictator ordered him to prison.

In this passage we are taught how hateful a thing is calumny in all free States, as, indeed, in every society, and how we must neglect no means which may serve to check it. And there can be no more effectual means for checking calumny than by affording ample facilities for impeachment, which is as useful in a commonwealth as the other is pernicious. And between them there is this difference, that calumny needs neither witness, nor circumstantial proof to establish it, so that any man may be calumniated by any other; but not impeached; since impeachment demands that there be substantive charges made, and trustworthy evidence to support them. Again, it is before the magistrates, the people, or the courts of justice that men are impeached; but in the streets and market places that they are calumniated. Calumny, therefore, is most rife in that State wherein impeachment is least practised, and the laws least favour it. For which reasons the legislator should so shape the laws of his State that it shall be possible therein to impeach any of its citizens without fear or favour; and, after duly providing for this, should visit calumniators with the sharpest punishments. Those punished will have no cause to complain, since it was in their power to have impeached openly where they have secretly calumniated. Where this is not seen to, grave disorders will always ensue. For calumnies sting without disabling; and those who are stung being more moved by hatred of their detractors than by fear of the things they say against them, seek revenge.

This matter, as we have said, was well arranged for in Rome, but has always been badly regulated in our city of Florence. And as the Roman ordinances with regard to it were productive of much good, so the want of them in Florence has bred much mischief. For any one reading the history of our city may perceive, how many calumnies have at all times been aimed against those of its citizens who have taken a leading part in its affairs. Thus, of one it would be said that he had plundered the public treasury, of another, that he had failed in some enterprise because he had been bribed; of a third, that this or the other disaster had originated in his ambition. Hence hatred sprung up on every side, and hatred growing to division, these led to factions, and these again to ruin. But had there existed in Florence some procedure whereby citizens might have been impeached, and calumniators punished, numberless disorders which have taken there would have been prevented. For citizens who were impeached, whether condemned or acquitted, would have had no power to injure the State; and they would have been impeached far seldomer than they have been calumniated; for calumny, as I have said already, is an easier matter than impeachment.

Some, indeed, have made use of calumny as a means for raising themselves to power, and have found their advantage in traducing eminent citizens who withstood their designs; for by taking the part of the people, and confirming them in their ill-opinion of these great men, they made them their friends. Of this, though I could give many instances, I shall content myself with one. At the siege of Lucca the Florentine army was commanded by Messer Giovanni Guicciardini, as its commissary, through whose bad generalship or ill-fortune the town was not taken. But whatever the cause of this failure, Messer Giovanni had the blame; and the rumour ran that he had been bribed by the people of Lucca. Which calumny being fostered by his enemies, brought Messer Giovanni to very verge of despair; and though to clear himself he would willingly have given himself up to the Captain of Justice he found he could not, there being no provision in the laws of the republic which allowed of his doing so. Hence arose the bitterest hostility between the friends of Messer Giovanni, who were mostly of the old nobility (grandi), and those who sought to reform the government of Florence; and from this and the like causes, the affair grew to such dimensions as to bring about the downfall of our republic.

Manlius Capitolinus, then, was a calumniator, not an accuser; and in their treatment of him the Romans showed how calumniators should be dealt with; by which I mean, that they should be forced to become accusers; and if their accusation be proved true, should be rewarded, or at least not punished, but if proved false should be punished as Manlius was.

CHAPTER IX. — That to give new Institutions to a Commonwealth, or to reconstruct old Institutions on an entirely new basis, must be the work of one Man.

It may perhaps be thought that I should not have got so far into the history of Rome, without some mention of those who gave that city its institutions, and saying something of these institutions themselves, so far as they relate to religion and war. As I have no wish to keep those who would know my views on these matters in suspense, I say at once, that to many it might seem of evil omen that the founder of a civil government like Romulus, should first have slain his brother, and afterwards have consented to the death of Titus Tatius the Sabine, whom he had chosen to be his colleague in the kingship; since his countrymen, if moved by ambition and lust of power to inflict like injuries on any who opposed their designs, might plead the example of their prince. This view would be a reasonable one were we to disregard the object which led Romulus to put those men to death. But we must take it as a rule to which there are very few if any exceptions, that no commonwealth or kingdom ever has salutary institutions given it from the first or has its institutions recast in an entirely new mould, unless by a single person. On the contrary, it must be from one man that it receives its institutions at first, and upon one man that all similar reconstruction must depend. For this reason the wise founder of a commonwealth who seeks to benefit not himself only, or the line of his descendants, but his State and country, must endeavour to acquire an absolute and undivided authority. And none who is wise will ever blame any action, however extraordinary and irregular, which serves to lay the foundation of a kingdom or to establish a republic. For although the act condemn the doer, the end may justify him; and when, as in the case of Romulus, the end is good, it will always excuse the means; since it is he who does violence with intent to injure, not he who does it with the design to secure tranquility, who merits blame. Such a person ought however to be so prudent and moderate as to avoid transmitting the absolute authority he acquires, as an inheritance to another; for as men are, by nature, more prone to evil than to good, a successor may turn to ambitious ends the power which his predecessor has used to promote worthy ends. Moreover, though it be one man that must give a State its institutions, once given they are not so likely to last long resting for support on the shoulders of one man only, as when entrusted to the care of many, and when it is the business of many to maintain them. For though the multitude be unfit to set a State in order, since they cannot, by reason of the divisions which prevail among them, agree wherein the true well-being of the State lies, yet when they have once been taught the truth, they never will consent to abandon it. And that Romulus, though he put his brother to death, is yet of those who are to be pardoned, since what he did was done for the common good and not from personal ambition, is shown by his at once creating a senate, with whom he took counsel, and in accordance with whose voice he determined. And whosoever shall well examine the authority which Romulus reserved to himself, will find that he reserved nothing beyond the command of the army when war was resolved on, and the right to assemble the senate. This is seen later, on Rome becoming free by the expulsion of the Tarquins, when the Romans altered none of their ancient institutions save in appointing two consuls for a year instead of a king for life; for this proves that all the original institutions of that city were more in conformity with a free and constitutional government, than with an absolute and despotic one.

In support of what has been said above, I might cite innumerable instances, as of Moses, Lycurgus, Solon, and other founders of kingdoms and commonwealths, who, from the full powers given them, were enabled to shape their laws to the public advantage; but passing over these examples, as of common notoriety, I take one, not indeed so famous, but which merits the attention of all who desire to frame wise laws. Agis, King of Sparta, desiring to bring back his countrymen to those limits within which the laws of Lycurgus had held them, because he thought that, from having somewhat deviated from them, his city had lost much of its ancient virtue and, consequently much of its strength and power, was, at the very outset of his attempts, slain by the Spartan Ephori, as one who sought to make himself a tyrant. But Cleomenes coming after him in the kingdom, and, on reading the notes and writings which he found of Agis wherein his designs and intentions were explained, being stirred by the same desire, perceived that he could not confer this benefit on his country unless he obtained sole power. For he saw that the ambition of others made it impossible for him to do what was useful for many against the will of a few. Wherefore, finding fit occasion, he caused the Ephori and all others likely to throw obstacles in his way, to be put to death; after which, he completely renewed the laws of Lycurgus. And the result of his measures would have been to give fresh life to Sparta, and to gain for himself a renown not inferior to that of Lycurgus, had it not been for the power of the Macedonians and the weakness of the other Greek States. For while engaged with these reforms, he was attacked by the Macedonians, and being by himself no match for them, and having none to whom he could turn for help, he was overpowered; and his plans, though wise and praiseworthy, were never brought to perfection.

All which circumstances considered, I conclude that he who gives new institutions to a State must stand alone; and that for the deaths of Remus and Tatius, Romulus is to be excused rather than blamed.

CHAPTER X. — That in proportion as the Founder of a Kingdom or Commonwealth merits Praise, he who founds a Tyranny deserves Blame.

Of all who are praised they are praised the most, who are the authors and founders of religions. After whom come the founders of kingdoms and commonwealths. Next to these, they have the greatest name who as commanders of armies have added to their own dominions or those of their country. After these, again, are ranked men of letters, who being of various shades of merit are celebrated each in his degree. To all others, whose number is infinite, is ascribed that measure of praise to which his profession or occupation entitles him. And, conversely, all who contribute to the overthrow of religion, or to the ruin of kingdoms and commonwealths, all who are foes to letters and to the arts which confer honour and benefit on the human race (among whom I reckon the impious, the cruel, the ignorant, the indolent, the base and the worthless), are held in infamy and detestation.

No one, whether he be wise or foolish, bad or good, if asked to choose between these two kinds of men, will ever be found to withhold praise from what deserves praise, or blame from what is to be blamed. And yet almost all, deceived by a false good and a false glory, allow themselves either ignorantly or wilfully to follow in the footsteps such as deserve blame rather than praise; and, have it in their power to establish, to their lasting renown, a commonwealth or kingdom, turn aside to create a tyranny without a thought how much they thereby lose in name, fame, security, tranquility, and peace of mind; and in name how much infamy, scorn, danger, and disquiet they are? But were they to read history, and turn to profit the lessons of the past, it seems impossible that those living in a republic as private citizens, should not prefer their native city, to play the part of Scipio rather of Cæsar; or that those who by good fortune or merit have risen to be rulers, should not seek rather to resemble Agesilaus, Timoleon, and Dion, than to Nabis, Phalaris and Dionysius; since they would see how the latter are loaded with infamy, while the former have been extolled beyond bounds. They would see, too, how Timoleon and others like him, had as great authority in their country as Dionysius or Phalaris in theirs, while enjoying far greater security. Nor let any one finding Cæsar celebrated by a crowd of writers, be misled by his glory; for those who praise him have been corrupted by good fortune, and overawed by the greatness of that empire which, being governed in his name, would not suffer any to speak their minds openly concerning him. But let him who desires to know how historians would have written of Cæsar had they been free to declare their thoughts mark what they say of Catiline, than whom Cæsar is more hateful, in proportion as he who does is more to be condemned than he who only desires to do evil. Let him see also what praises they lavish upon Brutus, because being unable, out of respect for his power, to reproach Cæsar, they magnify his enemy. And if he who has become prince in any State will but reflect, how, after Rome was made an empire, far greater praise was earned those emperors who lived within the laws, and worthily, than by those who lived in the contrary way, he will see that Titus, Nerva, Trajan, Hadrian, Antoninus and Marcus had no need of prætorian cohorts, or of countless legions to guard them, but were defended by their own good lives, the good-will of their subjects, and the attachment of the senate. In like manner he will perceive in the case of Caligula, Nero, Vitellius, and ever so many more of those evil emperors, that all the armies of the east and of the west were of no avail to protect them from the enemies whom their bad and depraved lives raised up against them. And were the history of these emperors rightly studied, it would be a sufficient lesson to any prince how to distinguish the paths which lead to honour and safety from those which end in shame and insecurity. For of the twenty-six emperors from Cæsar to Maximinus, sixteen came to a violent, ten only to a natural death; and though one or two of those who died by violence may have been good princes, as Galba or Pertinax, they met their fate in consequence of that corruption which their predecessors had left behind in the army. And if among those who died a natural death, there be found some bad emperors, like Severus, it is to be ascribed to their signal good fortune and to their great abilities, advantages seldom found united in the same man. From the study this history we may also learn how a good government is to be established; for while all the emperors who succeeded to the throne by birth, except Titus, were bad, all were good who succeeded by adoption; as in the case of the five from Nerva to Marcus. But so soon as the empire fell once more to the heirs by birth, its ruin recommenced.

Let a prince therefore look to that period which extends from Nerva to Marcus, and contrast it with that which went before and that which came after, and then let him say in which of them he would wish to have been born or to have reigned. For during these times in which good men governed, he will see the prince secure in the midst of happy subjects, and the whole world filled with peace and justice. He will find the senate maintaining its authority, the magistrates enjoying their honours, rich citizens their wealth, rank and merit held in respect, ease and content everywhere prevailing, rancour, licence corruption and ambition everywhere quenched, and that golden age restored in which every one might hold and support what opinions he pleased. He will see, in short, the world triumphing, the sovereign honoured and revered, the people animated with love, and rejoicing in their security. But should he turn to examine the times of the other emperors, he will find them wasted by battles, torn by seditions, cruel alike in war and peace; many princes perishing by the sword; many wars foreign and domestic; Italy overwhelmed with unheard-of disasters; her towns destroyed and plundered; Rome burned; the Capitol razed to the ground by Roman citizens; the ancient temples desolated; the ceremonies of religion corrupted; the cities rank with adultery; the seas covered with exiles and the islands polluted with blood. He will see outrage follow outrage; rank, riches, honours, and, above all, virtue imputed as mortal crimes; informers rewarded; slaves bribed to betray their masters, freedmen their patrons, and those who were without enemies brought to destruction by their friends; and then he will know the true nature of the debt which Rome, Italy, and the world owe to Cæsar; and if he possess a spark of human feeling, will turn from the example of those evil times, and kindle with a consuming passion to imitate those which were good.

And in truth the prince who seeks for worldly glory should desire to be the ruler of a corrupt city; not that, like Cæsar, he may destroy it, but that, like Romulus, he may restore it; since man cannot hope for, nor Heaven offer any better opportunity of fame. Were it indeed necessary in giving a constitution to a State to forfeit its sovereignty, the prince who, to retain his station, should withhold a constitution, might plead excuse; but for him who in giving a constitution can still retain his sovereignty, no excuse is to be made.

Let those therefore to whom Heaven has afforded this opportunity, remember that two courses lie open to them; one which will render them secure while they live and glorious when they die; another which exposes them to continual difficulties in life, and condemns them to eternal infamy after death.

CHAPTER XI. — Of the Religion of the Romans.

Though Rome had Romulus for her first founder, and as a daughter owed him her being and nurture, nevertheless, when the institutions of Romulus were seen by Heaven to be insufficient for so great a State, the Roman senate were moved to choose Numa Pompilius as his successor, that he might look to all matters which Romulus had neglected. He finding the people fierce and turbulent, and desiring with the help of the peaceful arts to bring them to order and obedience, called in the aid of religion as essential to the maintenance of civil society, and gave it such a form, that for many ages God was nowhere so much feared as in that republic. The effect of this was to render easy any enterprise in which the senate or great men of Rome thought fit to engage. And whosoever pays heed to an infinity of actions performed, sometimes by the Roman people collectively, often by single citizens, will see, that esteeming the power of God beyond that of man, they dreaded far more to violate their oath than to transgress the laws; as is clearly shown by the examples of Scipio and of Manlius Torquatus. For after the defeat of the Romans by Hannibal at Cannæ, many citizens meeting together, resolved, in their terror and dismay, to abandon Italy and seek refuge in Sicily. But Scipio, getting word of this, went among them, and menacing them with his naked sword, made them swear never to abandon their country. Again, when Lucius Manlius was accused by the tribune Marcus Pomponius, before the day fixed for trial, Titus Manlius, afterwards named Torquatus, son to Lucius, went to seek this Marcus, and threatening him with death if he did not withdraw the charge against his father, compelled him to swear compliance; and he, through fear, having sworn, kept his oath. In the first of these two instances, therefore, citizens whom love of their country and its laws could not have retained in Italy, were kept there by the oath forced upon them; and in the second, the tribune Marcus, to keep his oath, laid aside the hatred he bore the father, and overlooked the injury done him by the son, and his own dishonour. And this from no other cause than the religion which Numa had impressed upon this city.

And it will be plain to any one who carefully studies Roman History, how much religion helped in disciplining the army, in uniting the people, in keeping good men good, and putting bad men to shame; so that had it to be decided to which prince, Romulus or Numa, Rome owed the greater debt, I think the balance must turn in favour of Numa; for when religion is once established you may readily bring in arms; but where you have arms without religion it is not easy afterwards to bring in religion. We see, too, that while Romulus in order to create a senate, and to establish his other ordinances civil and military, needed no support from Divine authority, this was very necessary to Numa, who feigned to have intercourse with a Nymph by whose advice he was guided in counselling the people. And this, because desiring to introduce in Rome new and untried institutions, he feared that his own authority might not effect his end. Nor, indeed, has any attempt ever been made to introduce unusual laws among a people, without resorting to Divine authority, since without such sanction they never would have been accepted. For the wise recognize many things to be good which do not bear such reasons on the face of them as command their acceptance by others; wherefore, wise men who would obviate these difficulties, have recourse to Divine aid. Thus did Lycurgus, thus Solon, and thus have done many besides who have had the same end in view.

The Romans, accordingly, admiring the prudence and virtues of Numa, assented to all the measures which he recommended. This, however, is to be said, that the circumstance of these times being deeply tinctured with religious feeling, and of the men with whom he had to deal being rude and ignorant, gave Numa better facility to carry out his plans, as enabling him to mould his subjects readily to any new impression. And, doubtless, he who should seek at the present day to form a new commonwealth, would find the task easier among a race of simple mountaineers, than among the dwellers in cities where society is corrupt; as the sculptor can more easily carve a fair statue from a rough block, than from the block which has been badly shaped out by another. But taking all this into account, I maintain that the religion introduced by Numa was one of the chief causes of the prosperity of Rome, since it gave rise to good ordinances, which in turn brought with them good fortune, and with good fortune, happy issues to whatsoever was undertaken.

And as the observance of the ordinances of religion is the cause of the greatness of a State, so their neglect is the occasion of its decline; since a kingdom without the fear of God must either fall to pieces, or must be maintained by the fear of some prince who supplies that influence not supplied by religion. But since the lives of princes are short, the life of this prince, also, and with it his influence, must soon come to an end; whence it happens that a kingdom which rests wholly on the qualities of its prince, lasts for a brief time only; because these qualities, terminating with his life, are rarely renewed in his successor. For as Dante wisely says: —

“Seldom through the boughs doth human worth renew itself; for such the will of Him who gives it, that to Him we may ascribe it.”

It follows, therefore, that the safety of a commonwealth or kingdom lies, not in its having a ruler who governs it prudently while he lives, but in having one who so orders things, that when he dies, the State may still maintain itself. And though it be easier to impose new institutions or a new faith on rude and simple men, it is not therefore impossible to persuade their adoption by men who are civilized, and who do not think themselves rude. The people of Florence do not esteem themselves rude or ignorant, and yet were persuaded by the Friar Girolamo Savonarola that he spoke with God. Whether in this he said truth or no, I take not on me to pronounce, since of so great a man we must speak with reverence; but this I do say, that very many believed him without having witnessed anything extraordinary to warrant their belief; his life, his doctrines, the matter whereof he treated, being sufficient to enlist their faith.

Let no man, therefore, lose heart from thinking that he cannot do what others have done before him; for, as I said in my Preface, men are born, and live, and die, always in accordance with the same rules.

CHAPTER XII. — That it is of much moment to make account of Religion; and that Italy, through the Roman Church, being wanting therein, has been ruined.

Princes and commonwealths that would save themselves from growing corrupted, should before all things keep uncorrupted the rites and ceremonies of religion, and always hold them in reverence; since we can have no surer sign of the decay of a province than to see Divine worship held therein in contempt. This is easily understood when it is seen on what foundation that religion rests in which a man is born. For every religion has its root in certain fundamental ordinances peculiar to itself.

The religion of the Gentiles had its beginning in the responses of the oracles and in the prognostics of the augurs and soothsayers. All their other ceremonies and observances depended upon these; because men naturally believed that the God who could forecast their future weal or woe, could also bring them to pass. Wherefore the temples, the prayers, the sacrifices, and all the other rites of their worship, had their origin in this, that the oracles of Delos, of Dodona, and others celebrated in antiquity, held the world admiring and devout. But, afterwards, when these oracles began to shape their answers to suit the interests of powerful men, and their impostures to be seen through by the multitude, men grew incredulous and ready to overturn every sacred institution. For which reason, the rulers of kingdoms and commonwealths should maintain the foundations of the faith which they hold; since thus it will be easy for them to keep their country religious, and, consequently, virtuous and united. To which end they should countenance and further whatsoever tells in favour of religion, even should they think it untrue; and the wiser they are, and the better they are acquainted with natural causes, the more ought they to do so. It is from this course having been followed by the wise, that the miracles celebrated even in false religions, have come to be held in repute; for from whatever source they spring, discreet men will extol them, whose authority afterwards gives them currency everywhere.

These miracles were common enough in Rome, and among others this was believed, that when the Roman soldiers were sacking the city of Veii, certain of them entered the temple of Juno and spoke to the statue of the goddess, saying, “Wilt thou come with us to Rome?” when to some it seemed that she inclined her head in assent, and to others that they heard her answer, “Yea.” For these men being filled with religious awe (which Titus Livius shows us by the circumstance that, in entering the temple, they entered devoutly, reverently, and without tumult), persuaded themselves they heard that answer to their question, which, perhaps, they had formed beforehand in their minds. But their faith and belief were wholly approved of and confirmed by Camillus and by the other chief men of the city.

Had religion been maintained among the princes of Christendom on the footing on which it was established by its Founder, the Christian States and republics had been far more united and far more prosperous than they now are; nor can we have surer proof of its decay than in witnessing how those countries which are the nearest neighbours of the Roman Church, the head of our faith, have less devoutness than any others; so that any one who considers its earliest beginnings and observes how widely different is its present practice, might well believe its ruin or its chastisement to be close at hand.

But since some are of opinion that the welfare of Italy depends upon the Church of Rome, I desire to put forward certain arguments which occur to me against that view, and shall adduce two very strong ones, which, to my mind, admit of no answer. The first is, that, through the ill example of the Roman Court, the country has lost all religious feeling and devoutness, a loss which draws after it infinite mischiefs and disorders; for as the presence of religion implies every excellence, so the contrary is involved in its absence. To the Church, therefore, and to the priests, we Italians owe this first debt, that through them we have become wicked and irreligious. And a still greater debt we owe them for what is the immediate cause of our ruin, namely, that by the Church our country is kept divided. For no country was ever united or prosperous which did not yield obedience to some one prince or commonwealth, as has been the case with France and Spain. And the Church is the sole cause why Italy stands on a different footing, and is subject to no one king or commonwealth. For though she holds here her seat, and exerts her temporal authority, she has never yet gained strength and courage to seize upon the entire country, or make herself supreme; yet never has been so weak that when in fear of losing her temporal dominion, she could not call in some foreign potentate to aid her against any Italian State by which she was overmatched. Of which we find many instances, both in early times, as when by the intervention of Charles the Great she drove the Lombards, who had made themselves masters of nearly the whole country, out of Italy; and also in recent times, as when, with the help of France, she first stripped the Venetians of their territories, and then, with the help of the Swiss, expelled the French.

The Church, therefore, never being powerful enough herself to take possession of the entire country, while, at the same time, preventing any one else from doing so, has made it impossible to bring Italy under one head; and has been the cause of her always living subject to many princes or rulers, by whom she has been brought to such division and weakness as to have become a prey, not to Barbarian kings only, but to any who have thought fit to attack her. For this, I say, we Italians have none to thank but the Church. And were any man powerful enough to transplant the Court of Rome, with all the authority it now wields over the rest of Italy, into the territories of the Swiss (the only people who at this day, both as regards religion and military discipline, live like the ancients,) he would have clear proof of the truth of what I affirm, and would find that the corrupt manners of that Court had, in a little while, wrought greater mischief in these territories than any other disaster which could ever befall them.

CHAPTER XIII. — Of the use the Romans made of Religion in giving Institutions to their City, in carrying out their Enterprises, and in quelling Tumults.

Here it seems to me not out of place to cite instances of the Romans seeking assistance from religion in reforming their institutions and in carrying out their warlike designs. And although many such are related by Titus Livius, I content myself with mentioning the following only: The Romans having appointed tribunes with consular powers, all of them, save one, plebeians, it so chanced that in that very year they were visited by plague and famine, accompanied by many strange portents. Taking occasion from this, the nobles, at the next creation of tribunes, gave out that the gods were angry with Rome for lowering the majesty of her government, nor could be appeased but by the choice of tribunes being restored to a fair footing. Whereupon the people, smitten with religious awe, chose all the tribunes from the nobles. Again, at the siege of Veii, we find the Roman commanders making use of religion to keep the minds of their men well disposed towards that enterprise. For when, in the last year of the siege, the soldiers, disgusted with their protracted service, began to clamour to be led back to Rome, on the Alban lake suddenly rising to an uncommon height, it was found that the oracles at Delphi and elsewhere had foretold that Veii should fall that year in which the Alban lake overflowed. The hope of near victory thus excited in the minds of the soldiers, led them to put up with the weariness of the war, and to continue in arms; until, on Camillus being named dictator, Veii was taken after a ten years’ siege. In these cases, therefore, we see religion, wisely used, assist in the reduction of this city, and in restoring the tribuneship to the nobles; neither of which ends could well have been effected without it.

One other example bearing on the same subject I must not omit. Constant disturbances were occasioned in Rome by the tribune Terentillus, who, for reasons to be noticed in their place, sought to pass a certain law. The nobles, in their efforts to baffle him, had recourse to religion, which they sought to turn to account in two ways. For first they caused the Sibylline books to be searched, and a feigned answer returned, that in that year the city ran great risk of losing its freedom through civil discord; which fraud, although exposed by the tribunes, nevertheless aroused such alarm in the minds of the commons that they slackened in their support of their leaders. Their other contrivance was as follows: A certain Appius Herdonius, at the head of a band of slaves and outlaws, to the lumber of four thousand, having seized the Capitol by night, an alarm was spread that were the Equians and Volscians, those perpetual enemies of the Roman name, then to attack the city, they might succeed in taking it. And when, in spite of this, the tribunes stubbornly persisted in their efforts to pass the law, declaring the act of Herdonius to be a device of the nobles and no real danger. Publius Rubetius, a citizen of weight and authority, came forth from the Senate House, and in words partly friendly and partly menacing, showed them the peril in which the city stood, and that their demands were unseasonable; and spoke to such effect that the commons bound themselves by oath to stand by the consul; in fulfilment of which engagement they aided the consul, Publius Valerius, to carry the Capitol by assault. But Valerius being slain in the attack, Titus Quintius was at once appointed in his place, who, to leave the people no breathing time, nor suffer their thoughts to revert to the Terentillian law, ordered them to quit Rome and march against the Volscians; declaring them bound to follow him by virtue of the oath they had sworn not to desert the consul. And though the tribunes withstood him, contending that the oath had been sworn to the dead consul and not to Quintius, yet the people under the influence of religious awe, chose rather to obey the consul than believe the tribunes. And Titus Livius commends their behaviour when he says: “That neglect of the gods which now prevails, had not then made its way nor was it then the practice for every man to interpret his oath, or the laws, to suit his private ends.” The tribunes accordingly, fearing to lose their entire ascendency, consented to obey the consul, and to refrain for a year from moving in the matter of the Terentillian law; while the consuls, on their part, undertook that for a year the commons should not be called forth to war. And thus, with the help of religion, the senate were able to overcome a difficulty which they never could have overcome without it.

CHAPTER XIV. — That the Romans interpreted the Auspices to meet the occasion; and made a prudent show of observing the Rites of Religion even when forced to disregard them; and any who rashly slighted Religion they punished.

Auguries were not only, as we have shown above, a main foundation of the old religion of the Gentiles, but were also the cause of the prosperity of the Roman commonwealth. Accordingly, the Romans gave more heed to these than to any other of their observances; resorting to them in their consular comitia; in undertaking new enterprises; in calling out their armies; in going into battle; and, in short, in every business of importance, whether civil or military. Nor would they ever set forth on any warlike expedition, until they had satisfied their soldiers that the gods had promised them victory.

Among other means of declaring the auguries, they had in their armies a class of soothsayers, named by them pullarii, whom, when they desired to give battle, they would ask to take the auspices, which they did by observing the behaviour of fowls. If the fowls pecked, the engagement was begun with a favourable omen. If they refused, battle was declined. Nevertheless, when it was plain on the face of it that a certain course had to be taken, they take it at all hazards, even though the auspices were adverse; contriving, however, to manage matters so adroitly as not to appear to throw any slight on religion; as was done by the consul Papirius in the great battle he fought with the Samnites wherein that nation was finally broken and overthrown. For Papirius being encamped over against the Samnites, and perceiving that he fought, victory was certain, and consequently being eager to engage, desired the omens to be taken. The fowls refused to peck; but the chief soothsayer observing the eagerness of the soldiers to fight and the confidence felt both by them and by their captain, not to deprive the army of such an opportunity of glory, reported to the consul that the auspices were favourable. Whereupon Papirius began to array his army for battle. But some among the soothsayers having divulged to certain of the soldiers that the fowls had not pecked, this was told to Spurius Papirius, the nephew of the consul, who reporting it to his uncle, the latter straightway bade him mind his own business, for that so far as he himself and the army were concerned, the auspices were fair; and if the soothsayer had lied, the consequences were on his head. And that the event might accord with the prognostics, he commanded his officers to place the soothsayers in front of the battle. It so chanced that as they advanced against the enemy, the chief soothsayer was killed by a spear thrown by a Roman soldier; which, the consul hearing of, said, “All goes well, and as the Gods would have it, for by the death of this liar the army is purged of blame and absolved from whatever displeasure these may have conceived against it.” And contriving, in this way to make his designs tally with the auspices, he joined battle, without the army knowing that the ordinances of religion had in any degree been disregarded.

But an opposite course was taken by Appius Pulcher, in Sicily, in the first Carthaginian war. For desiring to join battle, he bade the soothsayers take the auspices, and on their announcing that the fowls refused to feed, he answered, “Let us see, then, whether they will drink,” and, so saying, caused them to be thrown into the sea. After which he fought and was defeated. For this he was condemned at Rome, while Papirius was honoured; not so much because the one had gained while the other had lost a battle, as because in their treatment of the auspices the one had behaved discreetly, the other with rashness. And, in truth, the sole object of this system of taking the auspices was to insure the army joining battle with that confidence of success which constantly leads to victory; a device followed not by the Romans only, but by foreign nations as well; of which I shall give an example in the following Chapter.

CHAPTER XV. — How the Samnites, as a last resource in their broken Fortunes, had recourse to Religion.

The Samnites, who before had met with many defeats at the hands of the Romans, were at last decisively routed by them in Etruria, where their armies were cut to pieces and their commanders slain. And because their allies also, such as the Etruscans, the Umbrians, and the Gauls, were likewise vanquished, they “could now no longer” as Livius tells us, “either trust to their own strength or to foreign aid; yet, for all that, would not cease from hostilities, nor resign themselves to forfeit the liberty which they had unsuccessfully defended, preferring new defeats to an inglorious submission.” They resolved, therefore, to make a final effort; and as they knew that victory was only to be secured by inspiring their soldiers with a stubborn courage, to which end nothing could help so much as religion, at the instance of their high priest, Ovius Paccius, they revived an ancient sacrificial rite performed by them in the manner following. After offering solemn sacrifice they caused all the captains of their armies, standing between the slain victims and the smoking altars, to swear never to abandon the war. They then summoned the common soldiers, one by one, and before the same altars, and surrounded by a ring of many centurions with drawn swords, first bound them by oath never to reveal what they might see or hear; and then, after imprecating the Divine wrath, and reciting the most terrible incantations, made them vow and swear to the gods, as they would not have a curse light on their race and offspring, to follow wherever their captains led, never to turn back from battle, and to put any they saw turn back to death. Some who in their terror declined to swear, were forthwith slain by the centurions. The rest, warned by their cruel fate, complied. Assembling thereafter to the number of forty thousand, one-half of whom, to render their appearance of unusual splendour were clad in white, with plumes and crests over their helmets, they took up their ground in the neighbourhood of Aquilonia. But Papirius, being sent against them, bade his soldiers be of good cheer, telling them “that feathers made no wounds, and that a Roman spear would pierce a painted shield;” and to lessen the effect which the oath taken by the Samnites had upon the minds of the Romans, he said that such an oath must rather distract than strengthen those bound by it, since they had to fear, at once, their enemies, their comrades, and their Gods. In the battle which ensued, the Samnites were routed, any firmness lent them by religion or by the oath they had sworn, being balanced by the Roman valour, and the terror inspired by past defeats. Still we see that, in their own judgment, they had no other refuge to which to turn, nor other remedy for restoring their broken hopes; and this is strong testimony to the spirit which religion rightly used can arouse.

Some of the incidents which I have now been considering may be thought to relate rather to the foreign than to the domestic affairs of Rome, which last alone form the proper subject of this Book; nevertheless since the matter connects itself with one of the most important institutions of the Roman republic, I have thought it convenient to notice it here, so as not to divide the subject and be obliged to return to it hereafter.

CHAPTER XVI. — That a People accustomed to live under a Prince, if by any accident it become free, can hardly preserve that Freedom.

Should a people accustomed to live under a prince by any accident become free, as did the Romans on the expulsion of the Tarquins, we know from numberless instances recorded in ancient history, how hard it will be for it to maintain that freedom. And this is no more than we might expect. For a people in such circumstances may be likened to the wild animal which, though destined by nature to roam at large in the woods, has been reared in the cage and in constant confinement and which, should it chance to be set free in the open country, being unused to find its own food, and unfamiliar with the coverts where it might lie concealed, falls a prey to the first who seeks to recapture it. Even thus it fares with the people which has been accustomed to be governed by others; since ignorant how to act by itself either for attack or defence, and neither knowing foreign princes nor being known of them, it is speedily brought back under the yoke, and often under a heavier yoke than that from which it has just freed its neck. These difficulties will be met with, even where the great body of the citizens has not become wholly corrupted; but where the corruption is complete, freedom, as shall presently be shown, is not merely fleeting but impossible. Wherefore my remarks are to be taken as applying to those States only wherein corruption has as yet made no great progress, and in which there is more that is sound than unsound.

To the difficulties above noticed, another has to be added, which is, that a State in becoming free makes for itself bitter enemies but not warm friends. All become its bitter enemies who, drawing their support from the wealth of the tyrant, flourished under his government. For these men, when the causes which made them powerful are withdrawn, can no longer live contented, but are one and all impelled to attempt the restoration of the tyranny in hopes of regaining their former importance. On the other hand, as I have said, the State which becomes free does not gain for itself warm friends. For a free government bestows its honours and rewards in accordance with certain fixed rules, and on considerations of merit, without which none is honoured or rewarded. But when a man obtains only those honours or rewards which he seems to himself to deserve, he will never admit that he is under any obligation to those who bestow them. Moreover the common benefits that all derive from a free government, which consist in the power to enjoy what is our own, openly and undisturbed, in having to feel no anxiety for the honour of wife or child, nor any fear for personal safety, are hardly recognized by men while they still possess them, since none will ever confess obligation to him who merely refrains from injury. For these reasons, I repeat, a State which has recently become free, is likely to have bitter enemies and no warm friends.

Now, to meet these difficulties and their attendant disorders, there is no more potent, effectual, wholesome, and necessary remedy than to slay the sons of Brutus. They, as the historian tells us, were along with other young Romans led to conspire against their country, simply because the unusual privileges which they had enjoyed under the kings, were withheld under the consuls; so that to them it seemed as though the freedom of the people implied their servitude. Any one, therefore, who undertakes to control a people, either as their prince or as the head of a commonwealth, and does not make sure work with all who are hostile to his new institutions, founds a government which cannot last long. Undoubtedly those princes are to be reckoned unhappy, who, to secure their position, are forced to advance by unusual and irregular paths, and with the people for their enemies. For while he who has to deal with a few adversaries only, can easily and without much or serious difficulty secure himself, he who has an entire people against him can never feel safe and the greater the severity he uses the weaker his authority becomes; so that his best course is to strive to make the people his friends.

But since these views may seem to conflict with what I have said above, treating there of a republic and here of a prince, that I may not have to return to the subject again, I will in this place discuss it briefly. Speaking, then of those princes who have become the tyrants of their country, I say that the prince who seeks to gain over an unfriendly people should first of all examine what it is the people really desire, and he will always find that they desire two things: first, to be revenged upon those who are the cause of their servitude; and second, to regain their freedom. The first of these desires the prince can gratify wholly, the second in part. As regards the former, we have an instance exactly in point. Clearchus, tyrant of Heraclea, being in exile, it so happened that on a feud arising between the commons and the nobles of that city, the latter, perceiving they were weaker than their adversaries, began to look with favour on Clearchus, and conspiring with him, in opposition to the popular voice recalled him to Heraclea and deprived the people of their freedom. Clearchus finding himself thus placed between the arrogance of the nobles, whom he could in no way either satisfy or correct, and the fury of the people, who could not put up with the loss of their freedom, resolved to rid himself at a stroke from the harassment of the nobles and recommend himself to the people. Wherefore, watching his opportunity, he caused all the nobles to be put to death, and thus, to the extreme delight of the people, satisfied one of those desires by which they are possessed, namely, the desire for vengeance.

As for the other desire of the people, namely, to recover their freedom, the prince, since he never can content them in this, should examine what the causes are which make them long to be free; and he will find a very few of them desiring freedom that they may obtain power, but all the rest, whose number is countless, only desiring it that they may live securely. For in all republics, whatever the form of their government, barely forty or fifty citizens have any place in the direction of affairs; who, from their number being so small, can easily be reckoned with, either by making away with them, or by allowing them such a share of honours as, looking to their position, may reasonably content them. All those others whose sole aim it is to live safely, are well contented where the prince enacts such laws and ordinances as provide for the general security, while they establish his own authority; and when he does this, and the people see that nothing induces him to violate these laws, they soon begin to live happily and without anxiety. Of this we have an example in the kingdom of France, which enjoys perfect security from this cause alone, that its kings are bound to compliance with an infinity of laws upon which the well-being of the whole people depends. And he who gave this State its constitution allowed its kings to do as they pleased as regards arms and money; but provided that as regards everything else they should not interfere save as the laws might direct. Those rulers, therefore, who omit to provide sufficiently for the safety of their government at the outset, must, like the Romans, do so on the first occasion which offers; and whoever lets the occasion slip, will repent too late of not having acted as he should. The Romans, however, being still uncorrupted at the time when they recovered their freedom, were able, after slaying the sons of Brutus and getting rid of the Tarquins, to maintain it with all those safeguards and remedies which we have elsewhere considered. But had they already become corrupted, no remedy could have been found, either in Rome or out of it, by which their freedom could have been secured; as I shall show in the following Chapter.

CHAPTER XVII. — That a corrupt People obtaining Freedom can hardly preserve it.

I believe that if her kings had not been expelled, Rome must very soon have become a weak and inconsiderable State. For seeing to what a pitch of corruption these kings had come, we may conjecture that if two or three more like reigns had followed, and the taint spread from the head to the members, so soon as the latter became infected, cure would have been hopeless. But from the head being removed while the trunk was still sound, it was not difficult for the Romans to return to a free and constitutional government.

It may be assumed, however, as most certain, that a corrupted city living under a prince can never recover its freedom, even were the prince and all his line to be exterminated. For in such a city it must necessarily happen that one prince will be replaced by another, and that things will never settle down until a new lord be established; unless, indeed, the combined goodness and valour of some one citizen should maintain freedom, which, even then, will endure only for his lifetime; as happened twice in Syracuse, first under the rule of Dion, and again under that of Timoleon, whose virtues while they lived kept their city free, but on whose death it fell once more under a tyranny.

But the strongest example that can be given is that of Rome, which on the expulsion of the Tarquins was able at once to seize on liberty and to maintain it; yet, on the deaths of Cæsar, Caligula, and Nero, and on the extinction of the Julian line, was not only unable to establish her freedom, but did not even venture a step in that direction. Results so opposite arising in one and the same city can only be accounted for by this, that in the time of the Tarquins the Roman people were not yet corrupted, but in these later times had become utterly corrupt. For on the first occasion, nothing more was needed to prepare and determine them to shake off their kings, than that they should be bound by oath to suffer no king ever again to reign in Rome; whereas, afterwards, the authority and austere virtue of Brutus, backed by all the legions of the East, could not rouse them to maintain their hold of that freedom, which he, following in the footsteps of the first Brutus, had won for them; and this because of the corruption wherewith the people had been infected by the Marian faction, whereof Cæsar becoming head, was able so to blind the multitude that it saw not the yoke under which it was about to lay its neck.

Though this example of Rome be more complete than any other, I desire to instance likewise, to the same effect, certain peoples well known in our own days; and I maintain that no change, however grave or violent, could ever restore freedom to Naples or Milan, because in these States the entire body of the people has grown corrupted. And so we find that Milan, although desirous to return to a free form of government, on the death of Filippo Visconti, had neither the force nor the skill needed to preserve it.

Most fortunate, therefore, was it for Rome that her kings grew corrupt soon, so as to be driven out before the taint of their corruption had reached the vitals of the city. For it was because these were sound that the endless commotions which took place in Rome, so far from being hurtful, were, from their object being good, beneficial to the commonwealth. From which we may draw this inference, that where the body of the people is still sound, tumults and other like disorders do little hurt, but that where it has become corrupted, laws, however well devised, are of no advantage, unless imposed by some one whose paramount authority causes them to be observed until the community be once more restored to a sound and healthy condition.

Whether this has ever happened I know not, nor whether it ever can happen. For we see, as I have said a little way back, that a city which owing to its pervading corruption has once begun to decline, if it is to recover at all, must be saved not by the excellence of the people collectively, but of some one man then living among them, on whose death it at once relapses into its former plight; as happened with Thebes, in which the virtue of Epaminondas made it possible while he lived to preserve the form of a free Government, but which fell again on his death into its old disorders; the reason being that hardly any ruler lives so long as to have time to accustom to right methods a city which has long been accustomed to wrong. Wherefore, unless things be put on a sound footing by some one ruler who lives to a very advanced age, or by two virtuous rulers succeeding one another, the city upon their death at once falls back into ruin; or, if it be preserved, must be so by incurring great risks, and at the cost of much blood. For the corruption I speak of, is wholly incompatible with a free government, because it results from an inequality which pervades the State and can only be removed by employing unusual and very violent remedies, such as few are willing or know how to employ, as in another place I shall more fully explain.

CHAPTER XVIII. — How a Free Government existing in a corrupt City may be preserved, or not existing may be created.

I think it neither out of place, nor inconsistent with what has been said above, to consider whether a free government existing in a corrupt city can be maintained, or, not existing, can be introduced. And on this head I say that it is very difficult to bring about either of these results, and next to impossible to lay down rules as to how it may be done; because the measures to be taken must vary with the degree of corruption which prevails.

Nevertheless, since it is well to reason things out, I will not pass this matter by, but will assume, in the first place, the case of a very corrupt city, and then take the case of one in which corruption has reached a still greater height; but where corruption is universal, no laws or institutions will ever have force to restrain it. Because as good customs stand in need of good laws for their support, so laws, that they may be respected, stand in need of good customs. Moreover, the laws and institutions established in a republic at its beginning, when men were good, are no longer suitable when they have become bad; but while the laws of a city are altered to suit its circumstances, its institutions rarely or never change; whence it results that the introduction of new laws is of no avail, because the institutions, remaining unchanged, corrupt them.

And to make this plainer, I say that in Rome it was first of all the institutions of the State, and next the laws as enforced by the magistrates, which kept the citizens under control. The institutions of the State consisted in the authority of the people, the senate, the tribunes, and the consuls; in the methods of choosing and appointing magistrates; and in the arrangements for passing laws. These institutions changed little, if at all, with circumstances. But the laws by which the people were controlled, as for instance the law relating to adultery, the sumptuary laws, the law as to canvassing at elections, and many others, were altered as the citizens grew more and more corrupted. Hence, the institutions of the State remaining the same although from the corruption of the people no longer suitable, amendments in the laws could not keep men good, though they might have proved very useful if at the time when they were made the institutions had likewise been reformed.

That its original institutions are no longer adapted to a city that has become corrupted, is plainly seen in two matters of great moment, I mean in the appointment of magistrates and in the passing of laws. For the Roman people conferred the consulship and other great offices of their State on none save those who sought them; which was a good institution at first, because then none sought these offices save those who thought themselves worthy of them, and to be rejected was held disgraceful; so that, to be deemed worthy, all were on their best behaviour. But in a corrupted city this institution grew to be most mischievous. For it was no longer those of greatest worth, but those who had most influence, who sought the magistracies; while all who were without influence, however deserving, refrained through fear. This untoward result was not reached all at once, but like other similar results, by gradual steps. For after subduing Africa and Asia, and reducing nearly the whole of Greece to submission, the Romans became perfectly assured of their freedom, and seemed to themselves no longer to have any enemy whom they had cause to fear. But this security and the weakness of their adversaries led them in conferring the consulship, no longer to look to merit, but only to favour, selecting for the office those who knew best how to pay court to them, not those who knew best how to vanquish their enemies. And afterwards, instead of selecting those who were best liked, they came to select those who had most influence; and in this way, from the imperfection of their institutions, good men came to be wholly excluded.

Again, as to making laws, any of the tribunes and certain others of the magistrates were entitled to submit laws to the people; but before these were passed it was open to every citizen to speak either for or against them. This was a good system so long as the citizens were good, since it is always well that every man should be able to propose what he thinks may be of use to his country, and that all should be allowed to express their views with regard to his proposal; so that the people, having heard all, may resolve on what is best. But when the people grew depraved, this became a very mischievous institution; for then it was only the powerful who proposed laws, and these not in the interest of public freedom but of their own authority; and because, through fear, none durst speak against the laws they proposed, the people were either deceived or forced into voting their own destruction.

In order, therefore, that Rome after she had become corrupted might still preserve her freedom, it was necessary that, as in the course of events she had made new laws, so likewise she should frame new institutions, since different institutions and ordinances are needed in a corrupt State from those which suit a State which is not corrupted; for where the matter is wholly dissimilar, the form cannot be similar.

But since old institutions must either be reformed all at once, as soon as they are seen to be no longer expedient, or else gradually, as the imperfection of each is recognized, I say that each of these two courses is all but impossible. For to effect a gradual reform requires a sagacious man who can discern mischief while it is still remote and in the germ. But it may well happen that no such person is found in a city; or that, if found, he is unable to persuade others of what he is himself persuaded. For men used to live in one way are loath to leave it for another, especially when they are not brought face to face with the evil against which they should guard, and only have it indicated to them by conjecture. And as for a sudden reform of institutions which are seen by all to be no longer good, I say that defects which are easily discerned are not easily corrected, because for their correction it is not enough to use ordinary means, these being in themselves insufficient; but recourse must be had to extraordinary means, such as violence and arms; and, as a preliminary, you must become prince of the city, and be able to deal with it at your pleasure. But since the restoration of a State to new political life presupposes a good man, and to become prince of a city by violence presupposes a bad man, it can, consequently, very seldom happen that, although the end be good, a good man will be found ready to become a prince by evil ways, or that a bad man having become a prince will be disposed to act virtuously, or think of turning to good account his ill-acquired authority.

From all these causes comes the difficulty, or rather the impossibility, which a corrupted city finds in maintaining an existing free government, or in establishing a new one. So that had we to establish or maintain a government in that city, it would be necessary to give it a monarchical, rather than a popular form, in order that men too arrogant to be restrained by the laws, might in some measure be kept in check by a power almost absolute; since to attempt to make them good otherwise would be a very cruel or a wholly futile endeavour. This, as I have said, was the method followed by Cleomenes; and if he, that he might stand alone, put to death the Ephori; and if Romulus, with a like object, put to death his brother and Titus Tatius the Sabine, and if both afterwards made good use of the authority they thus acquired, it is nevertheless to be remembered that it was because neither Cleomenes nor Romulus had to deal with so corrupt a people as that of which I am now speaking, that they were able to effect their ends and to give a fair colour to their acts.

CHAPTER XIX. — After a strong Prince a weak Prince may maintain himself: but after one weak Prince no Kingdom can stand a second.

When we contemplate the excellent qualities of Romulus, Numa, and Tullus, the first three kings of Rome, and note the methods which they followed, we recognize the extreme good fortune of that city in having her first king fierce and warlike, her second peaceful and religious, and her third, like the first, of a high spirit and more disposed to war than to peace. For it was essential for Rome that almost at the outset of her career, a ruler should be found to lay the foundations of her civil life; but, after that had been done, it was necessary that her rulers should return to the virtues of Romulus, since otherwise the city must have grown feeble, and become a prey to her neighbours.

And here we may note that a prince who succeeds to another of superior valour, may reign on by virtue of his predecessor’s merits, and reap the fruits of his labours; but if he live to a great age, or if he be followed by another who is wanting in the qualities of the first, that then the kingdom must necessarily dwindle. Conversely, when two consecutive princes are of rare excellence, we commonly find them achieving results which win for them enduring renown. David, for example, not only surpassed in learning and judgment, but was so valiant in arms that, after conquering and subduing all his neighbours, he left to his young son Solomon a tranquil State, which the latter, though unskilled in the arts of war, could maintain by the arts of peace, and thus happily enjoy the inheritance of his father’s valour. But Solomon could not transmit this inheritance to his son Rehoboam, who neither resembling his grandfather in valour, nor his father in good fortune, with difficulty made good his right to a sixth part of the kingdom. In like manner Bajazet, sultan of the Turks, though a man of peace rather than of war, was able to enjoy the labours of Mahomet his father, who, like David, having subdued his neighbours, left his son a kingdom so safely established that it could easily be retained by him by peaceful arts. But had Selim, son to Bajazet, been like his father, and not like his grandfather, the Turkish monarchy must have been overthrown; as it is, he seems likely to outdo the fame of his grandsire.

I affirm it to be proved by these examples, that after a valiant prince a feeble prince may maintain himself; but that no kingdom can stand when two feeble princes follow in succession, unless, as in the case of France, it be supported by its ancient ordinances. By feeble princes, I mean such as are not valiant in war. And, to put the matter shortly, it may be said, that the great valour of Romulus left Numa a period of many years within which to govern Rome by peaceful arts; that after Numa came Tullus, who renewed by his courage the fame of Romulus; and that he in turn was succeeded by Ancus, a prince so gifted by nature that he could equally avail himself of the methods of peace or war; who setting himself at first to pursue the former, when he found that his neighbours judged him to be effeminate, and therefore held him in slight esteem, understood that to preserve Rome he must resort to arms and resemble Romulus rather than Numa. From whose example every ruler of a State may learn that a prince like Numa will hold or lose his power according as fortune and circumstances befriend him; but that the prince who resembles Romulus, and like him is fortified with foresight and arms, will hold his State whatever befall, unless deprived of it by some stubborn and irresistible force. For we may reckon with certainty that if Rome had not had for her third king one who knew how to restore her credit by deeds of valour, she could not, or at any rate not without great difficulty, have afterwards held her ground, nor could ever have achieved the great exploits she did.

And for these reasons Rome, while she lived under her kings, was in constant danger of destruction through a king who might be weak or bad.

CHAPTER XX. — That the consecutive Reigns of two valiant Princes produce great results: and that well-ordered Commonwealths are assured of a Succession of valiant Rulers by whom their Power and Growth are rapidly extended.

When Rome had driven out her kings, she was freed from those dangers to which, as I have said, she was exposed by the possible succession of a weak or wicked prince. For the chief share in the government then devolved upon the consuls, who took their authority not by inheritance, nor yet by craft or by ambitious violence, but by the free suffrages of their fellow-citizens, and were always men of signal worth; by whose valour and good fortune Rome being constantly aided, was able to reach the height of her greatness in the same number of years as she had lived under her kings. And since we find that two successive reigns of valiant princes, as of Philip of Macedon and his son Alexander, suffice to conquer the world, this ought to be still easier for a commonwealth, which has it in its power to choose, not two excellent rulers only, but an endless number in succession. And in every well ordered commonwealth provision will be made for a succession of this sort.

CHAPTER XXI. — That it is a great reproach to a Prince or to a Commonwealth to be without a national Army.

Those princes and republics of the present day who lack forces of their own, whether for attack or defence, should take shame to themselves, and should be convinced by the example of Tullus, that their deficiency does not arise from want of men fit for warlike enterprises, but from their own fault in not knowing how to make their subjects good soldiers. For after Rome had been at peace for forty years, Tullus, succeeding to the kingdom, found not a single Roman who had ever been in battle. Nevertheless when he made up his mind to enter on a war, it never occurred to him to have recourse to the Samnites, or the Etruscans, or to any other of the neighbouring nations accustomed to arms, but he resolved, like the prudent prince he was, to rely on his own countrymen. And such was his ability that, under his rule, the people very soon became admirable soldiers. For nothing is more true than that where a country, having men, lacks soldiers, it results from some fault in its ruler, and not from any defect in the situation or climate. Of this we have a very recent instance. Every one knows, how, only the other day, the King of England invaded the realm of France with an army raised wholly from among his own people, although from his country having been at peace for thirty years, he had neither men nor officers who had ever looked an enemy in the face. Nevertheless, he did not hesitate with such troops as he had, to attack a kingdom well provided with officers and excellent soldiers who had been constantly under arms in the Italian wars. And this was possible through the prudence of the English king and the wise ordinances of his kingdom, which never in time of peace relaxes its warlike discipline. So too, in old times, Pelopidas and Epaminondas the Thebans, after they had freed Thebes from her tyrants, and rescued her from thraldom to Sparta, finding themselves in a city used to servitude and surrounded by an effeminate people, scrupled not, so great was their courage, to furnish these with arms, and go forth with them to meet and to conquer the Spartan forces on the field. And he who relates this, observes, that these two captains very soon showed that warriors are not bred in Lacedæmon alone, but in every country where men are found, if only some one arise among them who knows how to direct them to arms; as we see Tullus knew how to direct the Romans. Nor could Virgil better express this opinion, or show by fitter words that he was convinced of its truth than, when he says: —

“To arms shall Tullus rouse
 His sluggish warriors.”

CHAPTER XXII. — What is to be noted in the combat of the three Roman Horatii and the three Alban Curiatii.

It was agreed between Tullus king of Rome, and Metius king of Alba, that the nation whose champions were victorious in combat should rule over the other. The three Alban Curiatii were slain; one of the Roman Horatii survived. Whereupon the Alban king with all his people became subject to the Romans. The surviving Horatius returning victorious to Rome, and meeting his sister, wife to one of the dead Curiatii, bewailing the death of her husband, slew her; and being tried for this crime, was, after much contention, liberated, rather on the entreaties of his father than for his own deserts.

Herein three points are to be noted. First, that we should never peril our whole fortunes on the success of only a part of our forces. Second, that in a well-governed State, merit should never be allowed to balance crime. And third, that those are never wise covenants which we cannot or should not expect to be observed. Now, for a State to be enslaved is so terrible a calamity that it ought never to have been supposed possible that either of these kings or nations would rest content under a slavery resulting from the defeat of three only of their number. And so it appeared to Metius; for although on the victory of the Roman champions, he at once confessed himself vanquished, and promised obedience; nevertheless, in the very first expedition which he and Tullus undertook jointly against the people of Veii, we find him seeking to circumvent the Roman, as though perceiving too late the rash part he had played.

This is enough to say of the third point which I noted as deserving attention. Of the other two I shall speak in the next two Chapters.

CHAPTER XXIII. — That we should never hazard our whole Fortunes where we put not forth our entire Strength; for which reason to guard a Defile is often hurtful.

It was never judged a prudent course to peril your whole fortunes where you put not forth your whole strength; as may happen in more ways than one. One of these ways was that taken by Tullus and Metius, when each staked the existence of his country and the credit of his army on the valour and good fortune of three only of his soldiers, that being an utterly insignificant fraction of the force at his disposal. For neither of these kings reflected that all the labours of their predecessors in framing such institutions for their States, as might, with the aid of the citizens themselves, maintain them long in freedom, were rendered futile, when the power to ruin all was left in the hands of so small a number. No rasher step, therefore, could have been taken, than was taken by these kings.

A like risk is almost always incurred by those who, on the approach of an enemy, resolve to defend some place of strength, or to guard the defiles by which their country is entered. For unless room be found in this place of strength for almost all your army, the attempt to hold it will almost always prove hurtful. If you can find room, it will be right to defend your strong places; but if these be difficult of access, and you cannot there keep your entire force together, the effort to defend is mischievous. I come to this conclusion from observing the example of those who, although their territories be enclosed by mountains and precipices, have not, on being attacked by powerful enemies, attempted to fight on the mountains or in the defiles, but have advanced beyond them to meet their foes; or, if unwilling to advance, have awaited attack behind their mountains, on level and not on broken ground. The reason of which is, as I have above explained, that many men cannot be assembled in these strong places for their defence; partly because a large number of men cannot long subsist there, and partly because such places being narrow and confined, afford room for a few only; so that no enemy can there be withstood, who comes in force to the attack; which he can easily do, his design being to pass on and not to make a stay; whereas he who stands on the defensive cannot do so in force, because, from not knowing when the enemy may enter the confined and sterile tracts of which I speak, he may have to lodge himself there for a long time. But should you lose some pass which you had reckoned on holding, and on the defence of which your country and army have relied, there commonly follows such panic among your people and among the troops which remain to you, that you are vanquished without opportunity given for any display of valour, and lose everything without bringing all your resources into play.

Every one has heard with what difficulty Hannibal crossed the Alps which divide France from Lombardy, and afterwards those which separate Lombardy from Tuscany. Nevertheless the Romans awaited him, in the first instance on the banks of the Ticino, in the second on the plain of Arezzo, preferring to be defeated on ground which at least gave them a chance of victory, to leading their army into mountain fastnesses where it was likely to be destroyed by the mere difficulties of the ground. And any who read history with attention will find, that very few capable commanders have attempted to hold passes of this nature, as well for the reasons already given, as because to close them all were impossible. For mountains, like plains, are traversed not only by well-known and frequented roads, but also by many by-ways, which, though unknown to strangers, are familiar to the people of the country, under whose guidance you may always, and in spite of any opposition, be easily conducted to whatever point you please. Of this we have a recent instance in the events of the year 1515. For when Francis I. of France resolved on invading Italy in order to recover the province of Lombardy, those hostile to his attempt looked mainly to the Swiss, who it was hoped would stop him in passing through their mountains. But this hope was disappointed by the event. For leaving on one side two or three defiles which were guarded by the Swiss, the king advanced by another unknown pass, and was in Italy and upon his enemies before they knew. Whereupon they fled terror-stricken into Milan; while the whole population of Lombardy, finding themselves deceived in their expectation that the French would be detained in the mountains, went over to their side.

CHAPTER XXIV. — That well-ordered States always provide Rewards and Punishments for their Citizens; and never set off Deserts against Misdeeds.

The valour of Horatius in vanquishing the Curiatii deserved the highest reward. But in slaying his sister he had been guilty of a heinous crime. And so displeasing to the Romans was an outrage of this nature, that although his services were so great and so recent, they brought him to trial for his life. To one looking at it carelessly, this might seem an instance of popular ingratitude, but he who considers the matter more closely, and examines with sounder judgment what the ordinances of a State should be, will rather blame the Roman people for acquitting Horatius than for putting him on his trial. And this because no well-ordered State ever strikes a balance between the services of its citizens and their misdeeds; but appointing rewards for good actions and punishment for bad, when it has rewarded a man for acting well, will afterwards, should he act ill, chastise him, without regard to his former deserts. When these ordinances are duly observed, a city will live long in freedom, but when they are neglected, it must soon come to ruin. For when a citizen has rendered some splendid service to his country, if to the distinction which his action in itself confers, were added an over-weening confidence that any crime he might thenceforth commit would pass unpunished, he would soon become so arrogant that no civil bonds could restrain him.

Still, while we would have punishment terrible to wrongdoers, it is essential that good actions should be rewarded, as we see to have been the case in Rome. For even where a republic is poor, and has but little to give, it ought not to withhold that little; since a gift, however small, bestowed as a reward for services however great, will always be esteemed most honourable and precious by him who receives it. The story of Horatius Cocles and that of Mutius Scævola are well known: how the one withstood the enemy on the bridge while it was being cut down, and the other thrust his hand into the fire in punishment of the mistake made when he sought the life of Porsenna the Etruscan king. To each of these two, in requital of their splendid deeds, two ploughgates only of the public land were given. Another famous story is that of Manlius Capitolinus, to whom, for having saved the Capitol from the besieging Gauls, a small measure of meal was given by each of those who were shut up with him during the siege. Which recompense, in proportion to the wealth of the citizens of Rome at that time, was thought ample; so that afterwards, when Manlius, moved by jealousy and malice, sought to arouse sedition in Rome, and to gain over the people to his cause, they without regard to his past services threw him headlong from that Capitol in saving which he had formerly gained so great a renown.

CHAPTER XXV. — That he who would reform the Institutions of a free State, must retain at least the semblance of old Ways.

Whoever takes upon him to reform the government of a city, must, if his measures are to be well received and carried out with general approval, preserve at least the semblance of existing methods, so as not to appear to the people to have made any change in the old order of things; although, in truth, the new ordinances differ altogether from those which they replace. For when this is attended to, the mass of mankind accept what seems as what is; nay, are often touched more nearly by appearances than by realities.

This tendency being recognized by the Romans at the very outset of their civil freedom, when they appointed two consuls in place of a single king, they would not permit the consuls to have more than twelve lictors, in order that the old number of the king’s attendants might not be exceeded. Again, there being solemnized every year in Rome a sacrificial rite which could only be performed by the king in person, that the people might not be led by the absence of the king to remark the want of any ancient observance, a priest was appointed for the due celebration of this rite, to whom was given the name of Rex sacrificulus, and who was placed under the orders of the chief priest. In this way the people were contented, and had no occasion from any defect in the solemnities to desire the return of their kings. Like precautions should be used by all who would put an end to the old government of a city and substitute new and free institutions. For since novelty disturbs men’s minds, we should seek in the changes we make to preserve as far as possible what is ancient, so that if the new magistrates differ from the old in number, in authority, or in the duration of their office, they shall at least retain the old names.

This, I say, should be seen to by him who would establish a constitutional government, whether in the form of a commonwealth or of a kingdom. But he who would create an absolute government of the kind which political writers term a tyranny, must renew everything, as shall be explained in the following Chapter.

CHAPTER XXVI. — A new Prince in a City or Province of which he has taken Possession, ought to make Everything new.

Whosoever becomes prince of a city or State, more especially if his position be so insecure that he cannot resort to constitutional government either in the form of a republic or a monarchy, will find that the best way to preserve his princedom is to renew the whole institutions of that State; that is to say, to create new magistracies with new names, confer new powers, and employ new men, and like David when he became king, exalt the humble and depress the great, “filling the hungry with good things, and sending the rich empty away.” Moreover, he must pull down existing towns and rebuild them, removing their inhabitants from one place to another; and, in short, leave nothing in the country as he found it; so that there shall be neither rank, nor condition, nor honour, nor wealth which its possessor can refer to any but to him. And he must take example from Philip of Macedon, the father of Alexander, who by means such as these, from being a petty prince became monarch of all Greece; and of whom it was written that he shifted men from province to province as a shepherd moves his flocks from one pasture to another.

These indeed are most cruel expedients, contrary not merely to every Christian, but to every civilized rule of conduct, and such as every man should shun, choosing rather to lead a private life than to be a king on terms so hurtful to mankind. But he who will not keep to the fair path of virtue, must to maintain himself enter this path of evil. Men, however, not knowing how to be wholly good or wholly bad, choose for themselves certain middle ways, which of all others are the most pernicious, as shall be shown by an instance in the following Chapter.

CHAPTER XXVII. — That Men seldom know how to be wholly good or wholly bad.

When in the year 1505, Pope Julius II. went to Bologna to expel from that city the family of the Bentivogli, who had been princes there for over a hundred years, it was also in his mind, as a part of the general design he had planned against all those lords who had usurped Church lands, to remove Giovanpagolo Baglioni, tyrant of Perugia. And coming to Perugia with this intention and resolve, of which all men knew, he would not wait to enter the town with a force sufficient for his protection, but entered it unattended by troops, although Giovanpagolo was there with a great company of soldiers whom he had assembled for his defence. And thus, urged on by that impetuosity which stamped all his actions, accompanied only by his body-guard, he committed himself into the hands of his enemy, whom he forthwith carried away with him, leaving a governor behind to hold the town for the Church. All prudent men who were with the Pope remarked on his temerity, and on the pusillanimity of Giovanpagolo; nor could they conjecture why the latter had not, to his eternal glory, availed himself of this opportunity for crushing his enemy, and at the same time enriching himself with plunder, the Pope being attended by the whole College of Cardinals with all their luxurious equipage. For it could not be supposed that he was withheld by any promptings of goodness or scruples of conscience; because in the breast of a profligate living in incest with his sister, and who to obtain the princedom had put his nephews and kinsmen to death, no virtuous impulse could prevail. So that the only inference to be drawn was, that men know not how to be splendidly wicked or wholly good, and shrink in consequence from such crimes as are stamped with an inherent greatness or disclose a nobility of nature. For which reason Giovanpagolo, who thought nothing of incurring the guilt of incest, or of murdering his kinsmen, could not, or more truly durst not, avail himself of a fair occasion to do a deed which all would have admired; which would have won for him a deathless fame as the first to teach the prelates how little those who live and reign as they do are to be esteemed; and which would have displayed a greatness far transcending any infamy or danger that could attach to it.

CHAPTER XXVIII. — Whence it came that the Romans were less ungrateful to their Citizens than were the Athenians.

In the histories of all republics we meet with instances of some sort of ingratitude to their great citizens, but fewer in the history of Rome than of Athens, or indeed of any other republic. Searching for the cause of this, I am persuaded that, so far as regards Rome and Athens, it was due to the Romans having had less occasion than the Athenians to look upon their fellow-citizens with suspicion For, from the expulsion of her kings down to the times of Sylla and Marius, the liberty of Rome was never subverted by any one of her citizens; so that there never was in that city grave cause for distrusting any man, and in consequence making him the victim of inconsiderate injustice. The reverse was notoriously the case with Athens; for that city, having, at a time when she was most flourishing, been deprived of her freedom by Pisistratus under a false show of good-will, remembering, after she regained her liberty, her former bondage and all the wrongs she had endured, became the relentless chastiser, not of offences only on the part of her citizens, but even of the shadow of an offence. Hence the banishment and death of so many excellent men, and hence the law of ostracism, and all those other violent measures which from time to time during the history of that city were directed against her foremost citizens. For this is most true which is asserted by the writers on civil government, that a people which has recovered its freedom, bites more fiercely than one which has always preserved it.

And any who shall weigh well what has been said, will not condemn Athens in this matter, nor commend Rome, but refer all to the necessity arising out of the different conditions prevailing in the two States. For careful reflection will show that had Rome been deprived of her freedom as Athens was, she would not have been a whit more tender to her citizens. This we may reasonably infer from remarking what, after the expulsion of the kings, befell Collatinus and Publius Valerius; the former of whom, though he had taken part in the liberation of Rome, was sent into exile for no other reason than that he bore the name of Tarquin; while the sole ground of suspicion against the latter, and what almost led to his banishment, was his having built a house upon the Cælian hill. Seeing how harsh and suspicious Rome was in these two instances, we may surmise that she would have shown the same ingratitude as Athens, had she, like Athens, been wronged by her citizens at an early stage of her growth, and before she had attained to the fulness of her strength.

That I may not have to return to this question of ingratitude, I shall say all that remains to be said about it in my next Chapter.

CHAPTER XXIX. — Whether a People or a Prince is the more ungrateful.

In connection with what has been said above, it seems proper to consider whether more notable instances of ingratitude are supplied by princes or peoples. And, to go to the root of the matter, I affirm that this vice of ingratitude has its source either in avarice or in suspicion. For a prince or people when they have sent forth a captain on some important enterprise, by succeeding in which he earns a great name, are bound in return to reward him; and if moved by avarice and covetousness they fail to do so, or if, instead of rewarding, they wrong and disgrace him, they commit an error which is not only without excuse, but brings with it undying infamy. And, in fact, we find many princes who have sinned in this way, for the cause given by Cornelius Tacitus when he says, that “men are readier to pay back injuries than benefits, since to requite a benefit is felt to be a burthen, to return an injury a gain.”

When, however, reward is withheld, or, to speak more correctly, where offence is given, not from avarice but from suspicion, the prince or people may deserve some excuse; and we read of many instances of ingratitude proceeding from this cause. For the captain who by his valour has won new dominions for his prince, since while overcoming his enemies, he at the same time covers himself with glory and enriches his soldiers, must needs acquire such credit with his own followers, and with the enemy, and also with the subjects of his prince, as cannot be wholly agreeable to the master who sent him forth. And since men are by nature ambitious as well as jealous, and none loves to set a limit to his fortunes, the suspicion which at once lays hold of the prince when he sees his captain victorious, is sure to be inflamed by some arrogant act or word of the captain himself. So that the prince will be unable to think of anything but how to secure himself; and to this end will contrive how he may put his captain to death, or at any rate deprive him of the credit he has gained with the army and among the people; doing all he can to show that the victory was not won by his valour, but by good fortune, or by the cowardice of the enemy, or by the skill and prudence of those commanders who were with him at this or the other battle.

After Vespasian, who was then in Judæa, had been proclaimed emperor by his army, Antonius Primus, who commanded another army in Illyria, adopted his cause, and marching into Italy against Vitellius who had been proclaimed emperor in Rome, courageously defeated two armies under that prince, and occupied Rome; so that Mutianus, who was sent thither by Vespasian, found everything done to his hand, and all difficulties surmounted by the valour of Antonius. But all the reward which Antonius had for his pains, was, that Mutianus forthwith deprived him of his command of the army, and by degrees diminished his authority in Rome till none was left him. Thereupon Antonius went to join Vespasian, who was still in Asia; by whom he was so coldly received and so little considered, that in despair he put himself to death. And of cases like this, history is full. Every man living at the present hour knows with what zeal and courage Gonsalvo of Cordova, while conducting the war in Naples against the French, conquered and subdued that kingdom for his master Ferdinand of Aragon; and how his services were requited by Ferdinand coming from Aragon to Naples, and first of all depriving him of the command of the army, afterwards of the fortresses, and finally carrying him back with him to Spain, where soon after he died in disgrace.

This jealousy, then, is so natural to princes, that they cannot guard themselves against it, nor show gratitude to those who serving under their standard have gained great victories and made great conquests on their behalf. And if it be impossible for princes to free their minds from such suspicions, there is nothing strange or surprising that a people should be unable to do so. For as a city living under free institutions has two ends always before it, namely to acquire liberty and to preserve it, it must of necessity be led by its excessive passion for liberty to make mistakes in the pursuit of both these objects. Of the mistakes it commits in the effort to acquire liberty, I shall speak, hereafter, in the proper place. Of mistakes committed in the endeavour to preserve liberty are to be noted, the injuring those citizens who ought to be rewarded, and the suspecting those who should be trusted. Now, although in a State which has grown corrupt these errors occasion great evils, and commonly lead to a tyranny, as happened in Rome when Cæsar took by force what ingratitude had denied him, they are nevertheless the cause of much good in the republic which has not been corrupted, since they prolong the duration of its free institutions, and make men, through fear of punishment, better and less ambitious. Of all peoples possessed of great power, the Romans, for the reasons I have given, have undoubtedly been the least ungrateful, since we have no other instance of their ingratitude to cite, save that of Scipio. For both Coriolanus and Camillus were banished on account of the wrongs which they inflicted on the commons; and though the former was not forgiven because he constantly retained ill will against the people, the latter was not only recalled, but for the rest of his life honoured as a prince. But the ingratitude shown towards Scipio arose from the suspicion wherewith the citizens came to regard him, which they had not felt in the case of the others, and which was occasioned by the greatness of the enemy whom he had overthrown, the fame he had won by prevailing in so dangerous and protracted a war, the suddenness of his victories, and, finally, the favour which his youth, together with his prudence and his other memorable qualities had gained for him. These qualities were, in truth, so remarkable that the very magistrates, not to speak of others, stood in awe of his authority, a circumstance displeasing to prudent citizens, as before unheard of in Rome. In short, his whole bearing and character were so much out of the common, that even the elder Cato, so celebrated for his austere virtue, was the first to declare against him, saying that no city could be deemed free which contained a citizen who was feared by the magistrates. And since, in this instance, the Romans followed the opinion of Cato, they merit that excuse which, as I have said already, should be extended to the prince or people who are ungrateful through suspicion.

In conclusion it is to be said that while this vice of ingratitude has its origin either in avarice or in suspicion, commonwealths are rarely led into it by avarice, and far seldomer than princes by suspicion, having, as shall presently be shown, far less reason than princes for suspecting.

CHAPTER XXX. — How Princes and Commonwealths may avoid the vice of Ingratitude; and how a Captain or Citizen may escape being undone by it.

That he may not be tormented by suspicion, nor show ungrateful, a prince should go himself on his wars as the Roman emperors did at first, as the Turk does now, and, in short, as all valiant princes have done and do. For when it is the prince himself who conquers, the glory and the gain are all his own; but when he is absent, since the glory is another’s, it will seem to the prince that he profits nothing by the gain, unless that glory be quenched which he knew not how to win for himself; and when he thus becomes ungrateful and unjust, doubtless his loss is greater than his gain. To the prince, therefore, who, either through indolence or from want of foresight, sends forth a captain to conduct his wars while he himself remains inactive at home, I have no advice to offer which he does not already know. But I would counsel the captain whom he sends, since I am sure that he can never escape the attacks of ingratitude, to follow one or other of two courses, and either quit his command at once after a victory, and place himself in the hands of his prince, while carefully abstaining from every vainglorious or ambitious act, so that the prince, being relieved from all suspicion, may be disposed to reward, or at any rate not to injure him; or else, should he think it inexpedient for him to act in this way, to take boldly the contrary course, and fearlessly to follow out all such measures as he thinks will secure for himself, and not for his prince, whatever he has gained; conciliating the good-will of his soldiers and fellow-citizens, forming new friendships with neighbouring potentates, placing his own adherents in fortified towns, corrupting the chief officers of his army and getting rid of those whom he fails to corrupt, and by all similar means endeavouring to punish his master for the ingratitude which he looks for at his hands. These are the only two courses open; but since, as I said before, men know not how to be wholly good or wholly bad, it will never happen that after a victory a captain will quit his army and conduct himself modestly, nor yet that he will venture to use those hardy methods which have in them some strain of greatness; and so, remaining undecided, he will be crushed while he still wavers and doubts.

A commonwealth desiring to avoid the vice of ingratitude is, as compared with a prince, at this disadvantage, that while a prince can go himself on his expeditions, the commonwealth must send some one of its citizens. As a remedy, I would recommend that course being adopted which was followed by the Roman republic in order to be less ungrateful than others, having its origin in the nature of the Roman government. For the whole city, nobles and commons alike, taking part in her wars, there were always found in Rome at every stage of her history, so many valiant and successful soldiers, that by reason of their number, and from one acting as a check upon another, the nation had never ground to be jealous of any one man among them; while they, on their part, lived uprightly, and were careful to betray no sign of ambition, nor give the people the least cause to distrust them as ambitious; so that he obtained most glory from his dictatorship who was first to lay it down. Which conduct, as it excited no suspicion, could occasion no ingratitude.

We see, then, that the commonwealth which would have no cause to be ungrateful, must act as Rome did; and that the citizen who would escape ingratitude, must observe those precautions which were observed by Roman citizens.

CHAPTER XXXI. — That the Roman Captains were never punished with extreme severity for Misconduct; and where loss resulted to the Republic merely through their Ignorance or Want of Judgment, were not punished at all.

The Romans were not only, as has been said above, less ungrateful than other republics, but were also more lenient and more considerate than others in punishing the captains of their armies. For if these erred of set purpose, they chastised them with gentleness; while if they erred through ignorance, so far from punishing, they even honoured and rewarded them. And this conduct was well considered. For as they judged it of the utmost moment, that those in command of their armies should, in all they had to do, have their minds undisturbed and free from external anxieties, they would not add further difficulty and danger to a task in itself both dangerous and difficult, lest none should ever be found to act with valour. For supposing them to be sending forth an army against Philip of Macedon in Greece or against Hannibal in Italy, or against any other enemy at whose hands they had already sustained reverses, the captain in command of that expedition would be weighted with all the grave and important cares which attend such enterprises. But if to all these cares, had been added the example of Roman generals crucified or otherwise put to death for having lost battles, it would have been impossible for a commander surrounded by so many causes for anxiety to have acted with vigour and decision. For which reason, and because they thought that to such persons the mere ignominy of defeat was in itself punishment enough, they would not dishearten their generals by inflicting on them any heavier penalty.

Of errors committed not through ignorance, the following is an instance. Sergius and Virginius were engaged in the siege of Veii, each being in command of a division of the army, and while Sergius was set to guard against the approach of the Etruscans, it fell to Virginius to watch the town. But Sergius being attacked by the Faliscans and other tribes, chose rather to be defeated and routed than ask aid from Virginius, who, on his part, awaiting the humiliation of his rival, was willing to see his country dishonoured and an army destroyed, sooner than go unasked to his relief. This was notable misconduct, and likely, unless both offenders were punished, to bring discredit on the Roman name. But whereas another republic would have punished these men with death, the Romans were content to inflict only a money fine: not because the offence did not in itself deserve severe handling, but because they were unwilling, for the reasons already given, to depart in this instance from their ancient practice.

Of errors committed through ignorance we have no better example than in the case of Varro, through whose rashness the Romans were defeated by Hannibal at Cannæ, where the republic well-nigh lost its liberty. But because he had acted through ignorance and with no evil design, they not only refrained from punishing him, but even treated him with distinction; the whole senate going forth to meet him on his return to Rome, and as they could not thank him for having fought, thanking him for having come back, and for not having despaired of the fortunes his country.

Again, when Papirius Cursor would have had Fabius put to death, because, contrary to his orders, he had fought with the Samnites, among the reasons pleaded by the father of Fabius against the persistency of the dictator, he urged that never on the occasion of the defeat of any of their captains had the Romans done what Papirius desired them to do on the occasion of a victory.

CHAPTER XXXII. — That a Prince or Commonwealth should not delay conferring Benefits until they are themselves in difficulties.

The Romans found it for their advantage to be generous to the commons at a season of danger, when Porsenna came to attack Rome and restore the Tarquins. For the senate, apprehending that the people might choose rather to take back their kings than to support a war, secured their adherence by relieving them of the duty on salt and of all their other burthens; saying that “the poor did enough for the common welfare in rearing their offspring.” In return for which indulgence the commons were content to undergo war, siege, and famine. Let no one however, relying on this example, delay conciliating the people till danger has actually come; or, if he do, let him not hope to have the same good fortune as the Romans. For the mass of the people will consider that they have to thank not him, but his enemies, and that there is ground to fear that when the danger has passed away, he will take back what he gave under compulsion, and, therefore, that to him they lie under no obligation. And the reason why the course followed by the Romans succeeded, was that the State was still new and unsettled. Besides which, the people knew that laws had already been passed in their favour, as, for instance, the law allowing an appeal to the tribunes, and could therefore persuade themselves that the benefits granted them proceeded from the good-will entertained towards them by the senate, and were not due merely to the approach of an enemy. Moreover, the memory of their kings, by whom they had in many ways been wronged and ill-treated, was still fresh in their minds. But since like conditions seldom recur, it can only rarely happen that like remedies are useful. Wherefore, all, whether princes or republics, who hold the reins of government, ought to think beforehand of the adverse times which may await them, and of what help they may then stand in need; and ought so to live with their people as they would think right were they suffering under any calamity. And, whosoever, whether prince or republic, but prince more especially, behaves otherwise, and believes that after the event and when danger is upon him he will be able to win men over by benefits, deceives himself, and will not merely fail to maintain his place, but will even precipitate his downfall.

CHAPTER XXXIII. — When a Mischief has grown up in, or against a State, it is safer to temporize with than to meet it with Violence.

As Rome grew in fame, power, and dominion, her neighbours, who at first had taken no heed to the injury which this new republic might do them, began too late to see their mistake, and desiring to remedy what should have been remedied before, combined against her to the number of forty nations. Whereupon the Romans, resorting to a method usual with them in seasons of peril, appointed a dictator; that is, gave power to one man to decide without advice, and carry out his resolves without appeal. Which expedient, as it then enabled them to overcome the dangers by which they were threatened, so always afterwards proved most serviceable, when, at any time during the growth of their power, difficulties arose to embarrass their republic.

In connection with this league against Rome we have first to note, that when a mischief which springs up either in or against a republic, and whether occasioned by internal or external causes, has grown to such proportions that it begins to fill the whole community with alarm, it is a far safer course to temporize with it than to attempt to quell it by violence. For commonly those who make this attempt only add fuel to the flame, and hasten the impending ruin. Such disorders arise in a republic more often from internal causes than external, either through some citizen being suffered to acquire undue influence, or from the corruption of some institution of that republic, which had once been the life and sinew of its freedom; and from this corruption being allowed to gain such head that the attempt to check it is more dangerous than to let it be. And it is all the harder to recognize these disorders in their beginning, because it seems natural to men to look with favour on the beginnings of things. Favour of this sort, more than by anything else, is attracted by those actions which seem to have in them a quality of greatness, or which are performed by the young. For when in a republic some young man is seen to come forward endowed with rare excellence, the eyes of all the citizens are at once turned upon him, and all, without distinction, concur to do him honour; so that if he have one spark of ambition, the advantages which he has from nature, together with those he takes from this favourable disposition of men’s minds, raise him to such a pitch of power, that when the citizens at last see their mistake it is almost impossible for them to correct it; and when they do what they can to oppose his influence the only result is to extend it. Of this I might cite numerous examples, but shall content myself with one relating to our own city.

Cosimo de’ Medici, to whom the house of the Medici in Florence owes the origin of its fortunes, acquired so great a name from the favour wherewith his own prudence and the blindness of others invested him, that coming to be held in awe by the government, his fellow-citizens deemed it dangerous to offend him, but still more dangerous to let him alone. Nicolò da Uzzano, his cotemporary, who was accounted well versed in all civil affairs, but who had made a first mistake in not discerning the dangers which might grow from the rising influence of Cosimo, would never while he lived, permit a second mistake to be made in attempting to crush him; judging that such an attempt would be the ruin of the State, as in truth it proved after his death. For some who survived him, disregarding his counsels, combined against Cosimo and banished him from Florence. And so it came about that the partisans of Cosimo, angry at the wrong done him, soon afterwards recalled him and made him prince of the republic, a dignity he never would have reached but for this open opposition. The very same thing happened in Rome in the case of Cæsar. For his services having gained him the good-will of Pompey and other citizens, their favour was presently turned to fear, as Cicero testifies where he says that “it was late that Pompey began to fear Cæsar.” This fear led men to think of remedies, and the remedies to which they resorted accelerated the destruction of the republic.

I say, then, that since it is difficult to recognize these disorders in their beginning, because of the false impressions which things produce at the first, it is a wiser course when they become known, to temporize with them than to oppose them; for when you temporize, either they die out of themselves, or at any rate the injury they do is deferred. And the prince who would suppress such disorders or oppose himself to their force and onset, must always be on his guard, lest he help where he would hinder, retard when he would advance, and drown the plant he thinks to water. He must therefore study well the symptoms of the disease; and, if he believe himself equal to the cure, grapple with it fearlessly; if not, he must let it be, and not attempt to treat it in any way. For, otherwise, it will fare with him as it fared with those neighbours of Rome, for whom it would have been safer, after that city had grown to be so great, to have sought to soothe and restrain her by peaceful arts, than to provoke her by open war to contrive new means of attack and new methods of defence. For this league had no other effect than to make the Romans more united and resolute than before, and to bethink themselves of new expedients whereby their power was still more rapidly advanced; among which was the creation of a dictator; for this innovation not only enabled them to surmount the dangers which then threatened them, but was afterwards the means of escaping infinite calamities into which, without it, the republic must have fallen.

CHAPTER XXXIV. — That the authority of the Dictator did good and not harm to the Roman Republic: and that it is not those Powers which are given by the free suffrages of the People, but those which ambitious Citizens usurp for themselves, that are pernicious to a State.

Those citizens who first devised a dictatorship for Rome have been blamed by certain writers, as though this had been the cause of the tyranny afterwards established there. For these authors allege that the first tyrant of Rome governed it with the title of Dictator, and that, but for the existence of the office, Cæsar could never have cloaked his usurpation under a constitutional name. He who first took up this opinion had not well considered the matter, and his conclusion has been accepted without good ground. For it was not the name nor office of Dictator which brought Rome to servitude, but the influence which certain of her citizens were able to assume from the prolongation of their term of power; so that even had the name of Dictator been wanting in Rome, some other had been found to serve their ends, since power may readily give titles, but not titles power. We find, accordingly, that while the dictatorship was conferred in conformity with public ordinances, and not through personal influence, it was constantly beneficial to the city. For it is the magistracies created and the powers usurped in unconstitutional ways that hurt a republic, not those which conform to ordinary rule; so that in Rome, through the whole period of her history, we never find a dictator who acted otherwise than well for the republic. For which there were the plainest reasons. In the first place, to enable a citizen to work harm and to acquire undue authority, many circumstances must be present which never can be present in a State which is not corrupted. For such a citizen must be exceedingly rich, and must have many retainers and partisans, whom he cannot have where the laws are strictly observed, and who, if he had them, would occasion so much alarm, that the free suffrage of the people would seldom be in his favour. In the second place, the dictator was not created for life, but for a fixed term, and only to meet the emergency for which he was appointed. Power was indeed given him to determine by himself what measures the exigency demanded; to do what he had to do without consultation; and to punish without appeal. But he had no authority to do anything to the prejudice of the State, as it would have been to deprive the senate or the people of their privileges, to subvert the ancient institutions of the city, or introduce new. So that taking into account the brief time for which his office lasted, its limited authority, and the circumstance that the Roman people were still uncorrupted, it was impossible for him to overstep the just limits of his power so as to injure the city; and in fact we find that he was always useful to it.

And, in truth, among the institutions of Rome, this of the dictatorship deserves our special admiration, and to be linked with the chief causes of her greatness; for without some such safeguard a city can hardly pass unharmed through extraordinary dangers. Because as the ordinary institutions of a commonwealth work but slowly, no council and no magistrate having authority to act in everything alone, but in most matters one standing in need of the other, and time being required to reconcile their differences, the remedies which they provide are most dangerous when they have to be applied in cases which do not brook delay. For which reason, every republic ought to have some resource of this nature provided by its constitution; as we find that the Republic of Venice, one of the best of those now existing, has in cases of urgent danger reserved authority to a few of her citizens, if agreed among themselves, to determine without further consultation what course is to be followed. When a republic is not provided with some safeguard such as this, either it must be ruined by observing constitutional forms, or else, to save it, these must be broken through. But in a republic nothing should be left to be effected by irregular methods, because, although for the time the irregularity may be useful, the example will nevertheless be pernicious, as giving rise to a practice of violating the laws for good ends, under colour of which they may afterwards be violated for ends which are not good. For which reason, that can never become a perfect republic wherein every contingency has not been foreseen and provided for by the laws, and the method of dealing with it defined. To sum up, therefore, I say that those republics which cannot in sudden emergencies resort either to a dictator or to some similar authority, will, when the danger is serious, always be undone.

We may note, moreover, how prudently the Romans, in introducing this new office, contrived the conditions under which it was to be exercised. For perceiving that the appointment of a dictator involved something of humiliation for the consuls, who, from being the heads of the State, were reduced to render obedience like every one else, and anticipating that this might give offence, they determined that the power to appoint should rest with the consuls, thinking that when the occasion came when Rome should have need of this regal authority, they would have the consuls acting willingly and feeling the less aggrieved from the appointment being in their own hands. For those wounds or other injuries which a man inflicts upon himself by choice, and of his own free will, pain him far less than those inflicted by another. Nevertheless, in the later days of the republic the Romans were wont to entrust this power to a consul instead of to a dictator, using the formula, Videat CONSUL ne quid respublica detrimenti capiat.

But to return to the matter in hand, I say briefly, that when the neighbours of Rome sought to crush her, they led her to take measures not merely for her readier defence, but such as enabled her to attack them with a stronger force, with better skill, and with an undivided command.

CHAPTER XXXV — Why the Creation of the Decemvirate in Rome, although brought about by the free and open Suffrage of the Citizens, was hurtful to the Liberties of that Republic

The fact of those ten citizens who were chosen by the Roman people to make laws for Rome, in time becoming her tyrants and depriving her of her freedom, may seem contrary to what I have said above, namely that it is the authority which is violently usurped, and not that conferred by the free suffrages of the people which is injurious to a republic. Here, however, we have to take into account both the mode in which, and the term for which authority is given. Where authority is unrestricted and is conferred for a long term, meaning by that for a year or more, it is always attended with danger, and its results will be good or bad according as the men are good or bad to whom it is committed. Now when we compare the authority of the Ten with that possessed by the dictator, we see that the power placed in the hands of the former was out of all proportion greater than that entrusted to the latter. For when a dictator was appointed there still remained the tribunes, the consuls, and the senate, all of them invested with authority of which the dictator could not deprive them. For even if he could have taken his consulship from one man, or his status as a senator from another, he could not abolish the senatorial rank nor pass new laws. So that the senate, the consuls, and the tribunes continuing to exist with undiminished authority were a check upon him and kept him in the right road. But on the creation of the Ten, the opposite of all this took place. For on their appointment, consuls and tribunes were swept away, and express powers were given to the new magistrates to make laws and do whatever else they thought fit, with the entire authority of the whole Roman people. So that finding themselves alone without consuls or tribunes to control them, and with no appeal against them to the people, and thus there being none to keep a watch upon them, and further being stimulated by the ambition of Appius, in the second year of their office they began to wax insolent.

Let it be noted, therefore, that when it is said that authority given by the public vote is never hurtful to any commonwealth, it is assumed that the people will never be led to confer that authority without due limitations, or for other than a reasonable term. Should they, however either from being deceived or otherwise blinded, be induced to bestow authority imprudently, as the Romans bestowed it on the Ten, it will always fare with them as with the Romans. And this may readily be understood on reflecting what causes operated to keep the dictator good, what to make the Ten bad, and by observing how those republics which have been accounted well governed, have acted when conferring authority for an extended period, as the Spartans on their kings and the Venetians on their doges; for it will be seen that in both these instances the authority was controlled by checks which made it impossible for it to be abused. But where an uncontrolled authority is given, no security is afforded by the circumstance that the body of the people is not corrupted; for in the briefest possible time absolute authority will make a people corrupt, and obtain for itself friends and partisans. Nor will it be any hindrance to him in whom such authority is vested, that he is poor and without connections, for wealth and every other advantage will quickly follow, as shall be shown more fully when we discuss the appointment of the Ten.

CHAPTER XXXVI. — That Citizens who have held the higher Offices of a Commonwealth should not disdain the lower.

Under the consuls M. Fabius and Cn. Manlius, the Romans had a memorable victory in a battle fought with the Veientines and the Etruscans, in which Q. Fabius, brother of the consul, who had himself been consul the year before, was slain. This event may lead us to remark how well the methods followed by the city of Rome were suited to increase her power, and how great a mistake is made by other republics in departing from them. For, eager as the Romans were in the pursuit of glory, they never esteemed it a dishonour to obey one whom before they had commanded, or to find themselves serving in the ranks of an army which once they had led. This usage, however, is opposed to the ideas, the rules, and the practice which prevail at the present day, as, for instance, in Venice, where the notion still obtains that a citizen who has filled a great office should be ashamed to accept a less; and where the State itself permits him to decline it. This course, assuming it to lend lustre to individual citizens, is plainly to the disadvantage of the community, which has reason to hope more from, and to trust more to, the citizen who descends from a high office to fill a lower, than him who rises from a low office to fill a high one; for in the latter no confidence can reasonably be placed, unless he be seen to have others about him of such credit and worth that it may be hoped their wise counsels and influence will correct his inexperience. But had the usage which prevails in Venice and in other modern commonwealths and kingdoms, prevailed in Rome whereby he who had once been consul was never afterwards to go with the army except as consul, numberless results must have followed detrimental to the free institutions of that city; as well from the mistakes which the inexperience of new men would have occasioned, as because from their ambition having a freer course, and from their having none near them in whose presence they might fear to do amiss, they would have grown less scrupulous; and in this way the public service must have suffered grave harm.

CHAPTER XXXVII. — Of the Mischief bred in Rome by the Agrarian Law: and how it is a great source of disorder in a Commonwealth to pass a Law opposed to ancient Usage and with stringent retrospective Effect.

It has been said by ancient writers that to be pinched by adversity or pampered by prosperity is the common lot of men, and that in whichever way they are acted upon the result is the same. For when no longer urged to war on one another by necessity, they are urged by ambition, which has such dominion in their hearts that it never leaves them to whatsoever heights they climb. For nature has so ordered it that while they desire everything, it is impossible for them to have everything, and thus their desires being always in excess of their capacity to gratify them, they remain constantly dissatisfied and discontented. And hence the vicissitudes in human affairs. For some seeking to enlarge their possessions, and some to keep what they have got, wars and enmities ensue, from which result the ruin of one country and the growth of another.

I am led to these reflections from observing that the commons of Rome were not content to secure themselves against the nobles by the creation of tribunes, a measure to which they were driven by necessity, but after effecting this, forthwith entered upon an ambitious contest with the nobles, seeking to share with them what all men most esteem, namely, their honours and their wealth. Hence was bred that disorder from which sprang the feuds relating to the Agrarian Laws, and which led in the end to the downfall of the Roman republic. And although it should be the object of every well-governed commonwealth to make the State rich and keep individual citizens poor it must be allowed that in the matter of this law the city of Rome was to blame; whether for having passed it at first in such a shape as to require it to be continually recast; or for having postponed it so long that its retrospective effect was the occasion of tumult; or else, because, although rightly framed at first, it had come in its operation to be perverted. But in whatever way it happened, so it was, that this law was never spoken of in Rome without the whole city being convulsed.

The law itself embraced two principal provisions. By one it was enacted that no citizen should possess more than a fixed number of acres of land; by the other that all lands taken from the enemy should be distributed among the whole people. A twofold blow was thus aimed at the nobles; since all who possessed more land than the law allowed, as most of the nobles did, fell to be deprived of it; while by dividing the lands of the enemy among the whole people, the road to wealth was closed. These two grounds of offence being given to a powerful class, to whom it appeared that by resisting the law they did a service to the State, the whole city, as I have said, was thrown into an uproar on the mere mention of its name. The nobles indeed sought to temporize, and to prevail by patience and address; sometimes calling out the army, sometimes opposing another tribune to the one who was promoting the law, and sometimes coming to a compromise by sending a colony into the lands which were to be divided; as was done in the case of the territory of Antium, whither, on a dispute concerning the law having arisen, settlers were sent from Rome, and the land made over to them. In speaking of which colony Titus Livius makes the notable remark, that hardly any one in Rome could be got to take part in it, so much readier were the commons to indulge in covetous schemes at home, than to realize them by leaving it.

The ill humour engendered by this contest continued to prevail until the Romans began to carry their arms into the remoter parts of Italy and to countries beyond its shores; after which it seemed for a time to slumber — and this, because the lands held by the enemies of Rome, out of sight of her citizens and too remote to be conveniently cultivated, came to be less desired. Whereupon the Romans grew less eager to punish their enemies by dividing their lands, and were content, when they deprived any city of its territory, to send colonists to occupy it. For causes such as these, the measure remained in abeyance down to the time of the Gracchi; but being by them revived, finally overthrew the liberty of Rome. For as it found the power of its adversaries doubled, such a flame of hatred was kindled between commons and senate, that, regardless of all civil restraints, they resorted to arms and bloodshed. And as the public magistrates were powerless to provide a remedy, each of the two factions having no longer any hopes from them, resolved to do what it could for itself, and to set up a chief for its own protection. On reaching this stage of tumult and disorder, the commons lent their influence to Marius, making him four times consul; whose authority, lasting thus long, and with very brief intervals, became so firmly rooted that he was able to make himself consul other three times. Against this scourge, the nobles, lacking other defence, set themselves to favour Sylla, and placing him at the head of their faction, entered on the civil wars; wherein, after much blood had been spilt, and after many changes of fortune, they got the better of their adversaries. But afterwards, in the time of Cæsar and Pompey, the distemper broke out afresh; for Cæsar heading the Marian party, and Pompey, that of Sylla, and war ensuing, the victory remained with Cæsar, who was the first tyrant in Rome; after whose time that city was never again free. Such, therefore, was the beginning and such the end of the Agrarian Law.

But since it has elsewhere been said that the struggle between the commons and senate of Rome preserved her liberties, as giving rise to laws favourable to freedom, it might seem that the consequences of the Agrarian Law are opposed to that view. I am not, however, led to alter my opinion on this account; for I maintain that the ambition of the great is so pernicious that unless controlled and counteracted in a variety of ways, it will always reduce a city to speedy ruin. So that if the controversy over the Agrarian Laws took three hundred years to bring Rome to slavery, she would in all likelihood have been brought to slavery in a far shorter time, had not the commons, by means of this law, and by other demands, constantly restrained the ambition of the nobles.

We may also learn from this contest how much more men value wealth than honours; for in the matter of honours, the Roman nobles always gave way to the commons without any extraordinary resistance; but when it came to be a question of property, so stubborn were they in its defence, that the commons to effect their ends had to resort to those irregular methods which have been described above. Of which irregularities the prime movers were the Gracchi, whose motives are more to be commended than their measures; since to pass a law with stringent retrospective effect, in order to remove an abuse of long standing in a republic, is an unwise step, and one which, as I have already shown at length, can have no other result than to accelerate the mischief to which the abuse leads; whereas, if you temporize, either the abuse develops more slowly, or else, in course of time, and before it comes to a head, dies out of itself.

CHAPTER XXXVIII. — That weak Republics are irresolute and undecided; and that the course they may take depends more on Necessity than Choice.

A terrible pestilence breaking out in Rome seemed to the Equians and Volscians to offer a fit opportunity for crushing her. The two nations, therefore, assembling a great army, attacked the Latins and Hernicians and laid waste their country. Whereupon the Latins and Hernicians were forced to make their case known to the Romans, and to ask to be defended by them. The Romans, who were sorely afflicted by the pestilence, answered that they must look to their own defence, and with their own forces, since Rome was in no position to succour them.

Here we recognize the prudence and magnanimity of the Roman senate, and how at all times, and in all changes of fortune, they assumed the responsibility of determining the course their country should take; and were not ashamed, when necessary, to decide on a course contrary to that which was usual with them, or which they had decided to follow on some other occasion. I say this because on other occasions this same senate had forbidden these nations to defend themselves; and a less prudent assembly might have thought it lowered their credit to withdraw that prohibition. But the Roman senate always took a sound view of things, and always accepted the least hurtful course as the best. So that, although it was distasteful to them not to be able to defend their subjects, and equally distasteful — both for the reasons given, and for others which may be understood — that their subjects should take up arms in their absence, nevertheless knowing that these must have recourse to arms in any case, since the enemy was upon them, they took an honourable course in deciding that what had to be done should be done with their leave, lest men driven to disobey by necessity should come afterwards to disobey from choice. And although this may seem the course which every republic ought reasonably to follow, nevertheless weak and badly-advised republics cannot make up their minds to follow it, not knowing how to do themselves honour in like extremities.

After Duke Valentino had taken Faenza and forced Bologna to yield to his terms, desiring to return to Rome through Tuscany, he sent one of his people to Florence to ask leave for himself and his army to pass. A council was held in Florence to consider how this request should be dealt with, but no one was favourable to the leave asked for being granted. Wherein the Roman method was not followed. For as the Duke had a very strong force with him, while the Florentines were so bare of troops that they could not have prevented his passage, it would have been far more for their credit that he should seem to pass with their consent, than that he should pass in spite of them; because, while discredit had to be incurred either way, they would have incurred less by acceding to his demand.

But of all courses the worst for a weak State is to be irresolute; for then whatever it does will seem to be done under compulsion, so that if by chance it should do anything well, this will be set down to necessity and not to prudence. Of this I shall cite two other instances happening in our own times, and in our own country. In the year 1500, King Louis of France, after recovering Milan, being desirous to restore Pisa to the Florentines, so as to obtain payment from them of the fifty thousand ducats which they had promised him on the restitution being completed, sent troops to Pisa under M. Beaumont, in whom, though a Frenchman, the Florentines put much trust. Beaumont accordingly took up his position with his forces between Cascina and Pisa, to be in readiness to attack the town. After he had been there for some days making arrangements for the assault, envoys came to him from Pisa offering to surrender their city to the French if a promise were given in the king’s name, not to hand it over to the Florentines until four months had run. This condition was absolutely rejected by the Florentines, and the siege being proceeded with, they were forced to retire with disgrace. Now the proposal of the Pisans was rejected by the Florentines for no other reason than that they distrusted the good faith of the King, into whose hands their weakness obliged them to commit themselves, and did not reflect how much more it was for their interest that, by obtaining entrance into Pisa, he should have it in his power to restore the town to them, or, failing to restore it, should at once disclose his designs, than that remaining outside he should put them off with promises for which they had to pay. It would therefore have been a far better course for the Florentines to have agreed to Beaumont taking possession on whatever terms.

This was seen afterwards by experience in the year 1502, when, on the revolt of Arezzo, M. Imbalt was sent by the King of France with French troops to assist the Florentines. For when he got near Arezzo, and began to negotiate with the Aretines, who, like the Pisans, were willing to surrender their town on terms, the acceptance of these terms was strongly disapproved in Florence; which Imbalt learning, and thinking that the Florentines were acting with little sense, he took the entire settlement of conditions into his own hands, and, without consulting the Florentine commissioners, concluded an arrangement to his own satisfaction, in execution of which he entered Arezzo with his army. And he let the Florentines know that he thought them fools and ignorant of the ways of the world; since if they desired to have Arezzo, they could signify their wishes to the King, who would be much better able to give it them when he had his soldiers inside, than when he had them outside the town. Nevertheless, in Florence they never ceased to blame and abuse M. Imbalt, until at last they came to see that if Beaumont had acted in the same way, they would have got possession Of Pisa as well as of Arezzo.

Applying what has been said to the matter in hand, we find that irresolute republics, unless upon compulsion, never follow wise courses; for wherever there is room for doubt, their weakness will not suffer them to come to any resolve; so that unless their doubts be overcome by some superior force which impels them forward, they remain always in suspense.

CHAPTER XXXIX. — That often the same Accidents are seen to befall different Nations.

Any one comparing the present with the past will soon perceive that in all cities and in all nations there prevail the same desires and passions as always have prevailed; for which reason it should be an easy matter for him who carefully examines past events, to foresee those which are about to happen in any republic, and to apply such remedies as the ancients have used in like cases; or finding none which have been used by them, to strike out new ones, such as they might have used in similar circumstances. But these lessons being neglected or not understood by readers, or, if understood by them, being unknown to rulers, it follows that the same disorders are common to all times.

In the year 1494 the Republic of Florence, having lost a portion of its territories, including Pisa and other towns, was forced to make war against those who had taken possession of them, who being powerful, it followed that great sums were spent on these wars to little purpose. This large expenditure had to be met by heavy taxes which gave occasion to numberless complaints on the part of the people; and inasmuch as the war was conducted by a council of ten citizens, who were styled “the Ten of the War,” the multitude began to regard these with displeasure, as though they were the cause of the war and of the consequent expenditure; and at last persuaded themselves that if they got rid of this magistracy there would be an end to the war. Wherefore when the magistracy of “the Ten” should have been renewed, the people did not renew it, but, suffering it to lapse, entrusted their affairs to the “Signory.” This course was most pernicious, since not only did it fail to put an end to the war, as the people expected it would, but by setting aside men who had conducted it with prudence, led to such mishaps that not Pisa only, but Arezzo also, and many other towns besides were lost to Florence. Whereupon, the people recognizing their mistake, and that the evil was in the disease and not in the physician, reinstated the magistracy of the Ten.

Similar dissatisfaction grew up in Rome against the consular authority. For the people seeing one war follow another, and that they were never allowed to rest, when they should have ascribed this to the ambition of neighbouring nations who desired their overthrow, ascribed it to the ambition of the nobles, who, as they believed, being unable to wreak their hatred against them within the city, where they were protected by the power of the tribunes, sought to lead them outside the city, where they were under the authority of the consuls, that they might crush them where they were without help. In which belief they thought it necessary either to get rid of the consuls altogether, or so to restrict their powers as to leave them no authority over the people, either in the city or out of it.

The first who attempted to pass a law to this effect was the tribune Terentillus, who proposed that a committee of five should be named to consider and regulate the power of the consuls. This roused the anger of the nobles, to whom it seemed that the greatness of their authority was about to set for ever, and that no part would be left them in the administration of the republic. Such, however, was the obstinacy of the tribunes, that they succeeded in abolishing the consular title, nor were satisfied until, after other changes, it was resolved that, in room of consuls, tribunes should be appointed with consular powers; so much greater was their hatred of the name than of the thing. For a long time matters remained on this footing; till eventually, the commons, discovering their mistake, resumed the appointment of consuls in the same way as the Florentines reverted to “the Ten of the War.”

CHAPTER XL. — Of the creation of the Decemvirate in Rome, and what therein is to be noted. Wherein among other Matters is shown how the same Causes may lead to the Safety or to the Ruin of a Commonwealth.

It being my desire to treat fully of those disorders which arose in Rome on the creation of the decemvirate, I think it not amiss first of all to relate what took place at the time of that creation, and then to discuss those circumstances attending it which seem most to deserve notice. These are numerous, and should be well considered, both by those who would maintain the liberties of a commonwealth and by those who would subvert them. For in the course of our inquiry it will be seen that many mistakes prejudicial to freedom were made by the senate and people, and that many were likewise made by Appius, the chief decemvir, prejudicial to that tyranny which it was his aim to establish in Rome.

After much controversy and wrangling between the commons and the nobles as to the framing of new laws by which the freedom of Rome might be better secured, Spurius Posthumius and two other citizens were, by general consent, despatched to Athens to procure copies of the laws which Solon had drawn up for the Athenians, to the end that these might serve as a groundwork for the laws of Rome. On their return, the next step was to depute certain persons to examine these laws and to draft the new code. For which purpose a commission consisting of ten members, among whom was Appius Claudius, a crafty and ambitious citizen, was appointed for a year; and that the commissioners in framing their laws might act without fear or favour, all the other magistracies, and in particular the consulate and tribuneship, were suspended, and the appeal to the people discontinued; so that the decemvirs came to be absolute in Rome. Very soon the whole authority of the commissioners came to be centred in Appius, owing to the favour in which he was held by the commons. For although before he had been regarded as the cruel persecutor of the people, he now showed himself so conciliatory in his bearing that men wondered at the sudden change in his character and disposition.

This set of commissioners, then, behaved discreetly, being attended by no more than twelve lictors, walking in front of that decemvir whom the rest put forward as their chief; and though vested with absolute authority, yet when a Roman citizen had to be tried for murder, they cited him before the people and caused him to be judged by them. Their laws they wrote upon ten tables, but before signing them they exposed them publicly, that every one might read and consider them, and if any defect were discovered in them, it might be corrected before they were finally passed. At this juncture Appius caused it to be notified throughout the city that were two other tables added to these ten, the laws would be complete; hoping that under this belief the people would consent to continue the decemvirate for another year. This consent the people willingly gave, partly to prevent the consuls being reinstated, and partly because they thought they could hold their ground without the aid of the tribunes, who, as has already been said, were the judges in criminal cases.

On it being resolved to reappoint the decemvirate, all the nobles set to canvass for the office, Appius among the foremost; and such cordiality did he display towards the commons while seeking their votes, that the other candidates, “unable to persuade themselves that so much affability on the part of so proud a man was wholly disinterested,” began to suspect him; but fearing to oppose him openly, sought to circumvent him, by putting him forward, though the youngest of them all, to declare to the people the names of the proposed decemvirs; thinking that he would not venture to name himself, that being an unusual course in Rome, and held discreditable. “But what they meant as a hindrance, he turned to account,” by proposing, to the surprise and displeasure of the whole nobility, his own name first, and then nominating nine others on whose support he thought he could depend.

The new appointments, which were to last for a year, having been made, Appius soon let both commons and nobles know the mistake they had committed, for throwing off the mask, he allowed his innate arrogance to appear, and speedily infected his colleagues with the same spirit; who, to overawe the people and the senate, instead of twelve lictors, appointed one hundred and twenty. For a time their measures were directed against high and low alike; but presently they began to intrigue with the senate, and to attack the commons; and if any of the latter, on being harshly used by one decemvir, ventured to appeal to another, he was worse handled on the appeal than in the first instance. The commons, on discovering their error, began in their despair to turn their eyes towards the nobles, “and to look for a breeze of freedom from that very quarter whence fearing slavery they had brought the republic to its present straits.” To the nobles the sufferings of the commons were not displeasing, from the hope “that disgusted with the existing state of affairs, they too might come to desire the restoration of the consuls.”

When the year for which the decemvirs were appointed at last came to an end, the two additional tables of the law were ready, but had not yet been published. This was made a pretext by them for prolonging their magistracy, which they took measures to retain by force, gathering round them for this purpose a retinue of young noblemen, whom they enriched with the goods of those citizens whom they had condemned. “Corrupted by which gifts, these youths came to prefer selfish licence to public freedom.”

It happened that at this time the Sabines and Volscians began to stir up a war against Rome, and it was during the alarm thereby occasioned that the decemvirs were first made aware how weak was their position. For without the senate they could take no warlike measures, while by assembling the senate they seemed to put an end to their own authority. Nevertheless, being driven to it by necessity, they took this latter course. When the senate met, many of the senators, but particularly Valerius and Horatius, inveighed against the insolence of the decemvirs, whose power would forthwith have been cut short, had not the senate through jealousy of the commons declined to exercise their authority. For they thought that were the decemvirs to lay down office of their own free will, tribunes might not be reappointed. Wherefore they decided for war, and sent forth the armies under command of certain of the decemvirs. But Appius remaining behind to govern the city, it so fell out that he became enamoured of Virginia, and that when he sought to lay violent hands upon her, Virginius, her father, to save her from dishonour, slew her. Thereupon followed tumults in Rome, and mutiny among the soldiers, who, making common cause with the rest of the plebeians, betook themselves to the Sacred Hill, and there remained until the decemvirs laid down their office; when tribunes and consuls being once more appointed, Rome was restored to her ancient freedom.

In these events we note, first of all, that the pernicious step of creating this tyranny in Rome was due to the same causes which commonly give rise to tyrannies in cities; namely, the excessive love of the people for liberty, and the passionate eagerness of the nobles to govern. For when they cannot agree to pass some measure favourable to freedom, one faction or the other sets itself to support some one man, and a tyranny at once springs up. Both parties in Rome consented to the creation of the decemvirs, and to their exercising unrestricted powers, from the desire which the one had to put an end to the consular name, and the other to abolish the authority of the tribunes. When, on the appointment of the decemvirate, it seemed to the commons that Appius had become favourable to their cause, and was ready to attack the nobles, they inclined to support him. But when a people is led to commit this error of lending its support to some one man, in order that he may attack those whom it holds in hatred, if he only be prudent he will inevitably become the tyrant of that city. For he will wait until, with the support of the people, he can deal a fatal blow to the nobles, and will never set himself to oppress the people until the nobles have been rooted out. But when that time comes, the people, although they recognize their servitude, will have none to whom they can turn for help.

Had this method, which has been followed by all who have successfully established tyrannies in republics, been followed by Appius, his power would have been more stable and lasting; whereas, taking the directly opposite course, he could not have acted more unwisely than he did. For in his eagerness to grasp the tyranny, he made himself obnoxious to those who were in fact conferring it, and who could have maintained him in it; and he destroyed those who were his friends, while he sought friendship from those from whom he could not have it. For although it be the desire of the nobles to tyrannize, that section of them which finds itself outside the tyranny is always hostile to the tyrant, who can never succeed in gaining over the entire body of the nobles by reason of their greed and ambition; for no tyrant can ever have honours or wealth enough to satisfy them all.

In abandoning the people, therefore, and siding with the nobles, Appius committed a manifest mistake, as well for the reasons above given, as because to hold a thing by force, he who uses force must needs be stronger than he against whom it is used. Whence it happens that those tyrants who have the mass of the people for their friends and the nobles for their enemies, are more secure than those who have the people for their enemies and the nobles for their friends; because in the former case their authority has the stronger support. For with such support a ruler can maintain himself by the internal strength of his State, as did Nabis, tyrant of Sparta, when attacked by the Romans and by the whole of Greece; for making sure work with the nobles, who were few in number, and having the people on his side, he was able with their assistance to defend himself; which he could not have done had they been against him. But in the case of a city, wherein the tyrant has few friends, its internal strength will not avail him for its defence, and he will have to seek aid from without in one of three shapes. For either he must hire foreign guards to defend his person; or he must arm the peasantry, so that they may play the part which ought to be played by the citizens; or he must league with powerful neighbours for his defence. He who follows these methods and observes them well, may contrive to save himself, though he has the people for his enemy. But Appius could not follow the plan of gaining over the peasantry, since in Rome they and the people were one. And what he might have done he knew not how to do, and so was ruined at the very outset.

In creating the decemvirate, therefore, both the senate and the people made grave mistakes. For although, as already explained, when speaking of the dictatorship, it is those magistrates who make themselves, and not those made by the votes of the people, that are hurtful to freedom; nevertheless the people, in creating magistrates ought to take such precautions as will make it difficult for these to become bad. But the Romans when they ought to have set a check on the decemvirs in order to keep them good, dispensed with it, making them the sole magistrates of Rome, and setting aside all others; and this from the excessive desire of the senate to get rid of the tribunes, and of the commons to get rid of the consuls; by which objects both were so blinded as to fall into all the disorders which ensued. For, as King Ferrando was wont to say, men often behave like certain of the smaller birds, which are so intent on the prey to which nature incites them, that they discern not the eagle hovering overhead for their destruction.

In this Discourse then the mistakes made by the Roman people in their efforts to preserve their freedom and the mistakes made by Appius in his endeavour to obtain the tyranny, have, as I proposed at the outset, been plainly shown.

CHAPTER XLI. — That it is unwise to pass at a bound from leniency to severity, or to a haughty bearing from a humble.

Among the crafty devices used by Appius to aid him in maintaining his authority, this, of suddenly passing from one character to the other extreme, was of no small prejudice to him. For his fraud in pretending to the commons to be well disposed towards them, was happily contrived; as were also the means he took to bring about the reappointment of the decemvirate. Most skilful, too, was his audacity in nominating himself contrary to the expectation of the nobles, and in proposing colleagues on whom he could depend to carry out his ends. But, as I have said already, it was not happily contrived that, after doing all this, he should suddenly turn round, and from being the friend, reveal himself the enemy of the people; haughty instead of humane; cruel instead of kindly; and make this change so rapidly as to leave himself no shadow of excuse, but compel all to recognize the doubleness of his nature. For he who has once seemed good, should he afterwards choose, for his own ends, to become bad, ought to change by slow degrees, and as opportunity serves; so that before his altered nature strip him of old favour, he may have gained for himself an equal share of new, and thus his influence suffer no diminution. For otherwise, being at once unmasked and friendless, he is undone:

CHAPTER XLII. — How easily Men become corrupted.

In this matter of the decemvirate we may likewise note the ease wherewith men become corrupted, and how completely, although born good and well brought up, they change their nature. For we see how favourably disposed the youths whom Appius gathered round him became towards his tyranny, in return for the trifling benefits which they drew from it; and how Quintus Fabius, one of the second decemvirate and a most worthy man, blinded by a little ambition, and misled by the evil counsels of Appius, abandoning his fair fame, betook himself to most unworthy courses, and grew like his master.

Careful consideration of this should make those who frame laws for commonwealths and kingdoms more alive to the necessity of placing restraints on men’s evil appetites, and depriving them of all hope of doing wrong with impunity.

CHAPTER XLIII. — That Men fighting in their own Cause make good and resolute Soldiers.

From what has been touched upon above, we are also led to remark how wide is the difference between an army which, having no ground for discontent, fights in its own cause, and one which, being discontented, fights to satisfy the ambition of others. For whereas the Romans were always victorious under the consuls, under the decemvirs they were always defeated. This helps us to understand why it is that mercenary troops are worthless; namely, that they have no incitement to keep them true to you beyond the pittance which you pay them, which neither is nor can be a sufficient motive for such fidelity and devotion as would make them willing to die in your behalf. But in those armies in which there exists not such an attachment towards him for whom they fight as makes them devoted to his cause, there never will be valour enough to withstand an enemy if only he be a little brave. And since such attachment and devotion cannot be looked for from any save your own subjects, you must, if you would preserve your dominions, or maintain your commonwealth or kingdom, arm the natives of your country; as we see to have been done by all those who have achieved great things in war.

Under the decemvirs the ancient valour of the Roman soldiers had in no degree abated; yet, because they were no longer animated by the same good will, they did not exert themselves as they were wont. But so soon as the decemvirate came to an end, and the soldiers began once more to fight as free men, the old spirit was reawakened, and, as a consequence, their enterprises, according to former usage, were brought to a successful close.

CHAPTER XLIV. — That the Multitude is helpless without a Head: and that we should not with the same breath threaten and ask leave.

When Virginia died by her father’s hand, the commons of Rome withdrew under arms to the Sacred Hill. Whereupon the senate sent messengers to demand by what sanction they had deserted their commanders and assembled there in arms. And in such reverence was the authority of the senate held, that the commons, lacking leaders, durst make no reply. “Not,” says Titus Livius, “that they were at a loss what to answer, but because they had none to answer for them;” words which clearly show how helpless a thing is the multitude when without a head.

This defect was perceived by Virginius, at whose instance twenty military tribunes were appointed by the commons to be their spokesmen with the senate, and to negotiate terms; who, having asked that Valerius and Horatius might be sent to them, to whom their wishes would be made known, these declined to go until the decemvirs had laid down their office. When this was done, and Valerius and Horatius came to the hill where the commons were assembled, the latter demanded that tribunes of the people should be appointed; that in future there should be an appeal to the people from the magistrates of whatever degree; and that all the decemvirs should be given up to them to be burned alive. Valerius and Horatius approved the first two demands, but rejected the last as inhuman; telling the commons that “they were rushing into that very cruelty which they themselves had condemned in others;” and counselling them to say nothing about the decemvirs, but to be satisfied to regain their own power and authority; since thus the way would be open to them for obtaining every redress.

Here we see plainly how foolish and unwise it is to ask a thing and with the same breath to say, “I desire this that I may inflict an injury.” For we should never declare our intention beforehand, but watch for every opportunity to carry it out. So that it is enough to ask another for his weapons, without adding, “With these I purpose to destroy you;” for when once you have secured his weapons, you can use them afterwards as you please.

CHAPTER XLV. — That it is of evil example, especially in the Maker of a Law, not to observe the Law when made: and that daily to renew acts of injustice in a City is most hurtful to the Governor.

Terms having been adjusted, and the old order of things restored in Rome, Virginius cited Appius to defend himself before the people; and on his appearing attended by many of the nobles, ordered him to be led to prison. Whereupon Appius began to cry out and appeal to the people. But Virginius told him that he was unworthy to be allowed that appeal which he had himself done away with, or to have that people whom he had wronged for his protectors. Appius rejoined, that the people should not set at nought that right of appeal which they themselves had insisted on with so much zeal. Nevertheless, he was dragged to prison, and before the day of trial slew himself. Now, though the wicked life of Appius merited every punishment, still it was impolitic to violate the laws, more particularly a law which had only just been passed; for nothing, I think, is of worse example in a republic, than to make a law and not to keep it; and most of all, when he who breaks is he that made it.

After the year 1494, the city of Florence reformed its government with the help of the Friar Girolamo Savonarola, whose writings declare his learning, his wisdom, and the excellence of his heart. Among other ordinances for the safety of the citizens, he caused a law to be passed, allowing an appeal to the people from the sentences pronounced by “the Eight” and by the “Signory” in trials for State offences; a law he had long contended for, and carried at last with great difficulty. It so happened that a very short time after it was passed, five citizens were condemned to death by the “Signory” for State offences, and that when they sought to appeal to the people they were not permitted to do so, and the law was violated. This, more than any other mischance, helped to lessen the credit of the Friar; since if his law of appeal was salutary, he should have caused it to be observed; if useless, he ought not to have promoted it. And his inconsistency was the more remarked, because in all the sermons which he preached after the law was broken, he never either blamed or excused the person who had broken it, as though unwilling to condemn, while unable to justify what suited his purposes. This, as betraying the ambitious and partial turn of his mind, took from his reputation and exposed him to much obloquy.

Another thing which greatly hurts a government is to keep alive bitter feelings in men’s minds by often renewed attacks on individuals, as was done in Rome after the decemvirate was put an end to. For each of the decemvirs, and other citizens besides, were at different times accused and condemned, so that the greatest alarm was spread through the whole body of the nobles, who came to believe that these prosecutions would never cease until their entire order was exterminated. And this must have led to grave mischief had not Marcus Duilius the tribune provided against it, by an edict which forbade every one, for the period of a year, citing or accusing any Roman citizen, an ordinance which had the effect of reassuring the whole nobility. Here we see how hurtful it is for a prince or commonwealth to keep the minds of their subjects in constant alarm and suspense by continually renewed punishments and violence. And, in truth, no course can be more pernicious. For men who are in fear for their safety will seize on every opportunity for securing themselves against the dangers which surround them, and will grow at once more daring, and less scrupulous in resorting to new courses. For these reasons we should either altogether avoid inflicting injury, or should inflict every injury at a stroke, and then seek to reassure men’s minds and suffer them to settle down and rest.

CHAPTER XLVI. — That Men climb from one step of Ambition to another, seeking at first to escape Injury and then to injure others.

As the commons of Rome on recovering their freedom were restored to their former position — nay, to one still stronger since many new laws had been passed which confirmed and extended their authority, — it might reasonably have been hoped that Rome would for a time remain at rest. The event, however, showed the contrary, for from day to day there arose in that city new tumults and fresh dissensions. And since the causes which brought this about have been most judiciously set forth by Titus Livius, it seems to me much to the purpose to cite his own words when he says, that “whenever either the commons or the nobles were humble, the others grew haughty; so that if the commons kept within due bounds, the young nobles began to inflict injuries upon them, against which the tribunes, who were themselves made the objects of outrage, were little able to give redress; while the nobles on their part, although they could not close their eyes to the ill behaviour of their young men, were yet well pleased that if excesses were to be committed, they should be committed by their own faction, and not by the commons. Thus the desire to secure its own liberty prompted each faction to make itself strong enough to oppress the other. For this is the common course of things, that in seeking to escape cause for fear, men come to give others cause to be afraid by inflicting on them those wrongs from which they strive to relieve themselves; as though the choice lay between injuring and being injured.”

Herein, among other things, we perceive in what ways commonwealths are overthrown, and how men climb from one ambition to another; and recognize the truth of those words which Sallust puts in the mouth of Cæsar, that “all ill actions have their origin in fair beginnings.”  For, as I have said already, the ambitious citizen in a commonwealth seeks at the outset to secure himself against injury, not only at the hands of private persons, but also of the magistrates; to effect which he endeavours to gain himself friends. These he obtains by means honourable in appearance, either by supplying them with money or protecting them against the powerful. And because such conduct seems praiseworthy, every one is readily deceived by it, and consequently no remedy is applied. Pursuing these methods without hindrance, this man presently comes to be so powerful that private citizens begin to fear him, and the magistrates to treat him with respect. But when he has advanced thus far on the road to power without encountering opposition, he has reached a point at which it is most dangerous to cope with him; it being dangerous, as I have before explained, to contend with a disorder which has already made progress in a city. Nevertheless, when he has brought things to this pass, you must either endeavour to crush him, at the risk of immediate ruin, or else, unless death or some like accident interpose, you incur inevitable slavery by letting him alone. For when, as I have said, it has come to this that the citizens and even the magistrates fear to offend him and his friends, little further effort will afterwards be needed to enable him to proscribe and ruin whom he pleases.

A republic ought, therefore, to provide by its ordinances that none of its citizens shall, under colour of doing good, have it in their power to do evil, but shall be suffered to acquire such influence only as may aid and not injure freedom. How this may be done, shall presently be explained.

CHAPTER XLVII. — That though Men deceive themselves in Generalities, in Particulars they judge truly.

The commons of Rome having, as I have said, grown disgusted with the consular name, and desiring either that men of plebeian birth should be admitted to the office or its authority be restricted, the nobles, to prevent its degradation in either of these two ways, proposed a middle course, whereby four tribunes, who might either be plebeians or nobles, were to be created with consular authority. This compromise satisfied the commons, who thought they would thus get rid of the consulship, and secure the highest offices of the State for their own order. But here a circumstance happened worth noting. When the four tribunes came to be chosen, the people, who had it in their power to choose all from the commons, chose all from the nobles. With respect to which election Titus Livius observes, that “the result showed that the people when declaring their honest judgment after controversy was over, were governed by a different spirit from that which had inspired them while contending for their liberties and for a share in public honours.” The reason for this I believe to be, that men deceive themselves more readily in generals than in particulars. To the commons of Rome it seemed, in the abstract, that they had every right to be admitted to the consulship, since their party in the city was the more numerous, since they bore the greater share of danger in their wars, and since it was they who by their valour kept Rome free and made her powerful. And because it appeared to them, as I have said, that their desire was a reasonable one, they were resolved to satisfy it at all hazards. But when they had to form a particular judgment on the men of their own party, they recognized their defects, and decided that individually no one of them was deserving of what, collectively, they seemed entitled to; and being ashamed of them, turned to bestow their honours on those who deserved them. Of which decision Titus Livius, speaking with due admiration, says, “Where shall we now find in any one man, that modesty, moderation, and magnanimity which were then common to the entire people?”

As confirming what I have said, I shall cite another noteworthy incident, which occurred in Capua after the rout of the Romans by Hannibal at Cannæ. For all Italy being convulsed by that defeat, Capua too was threatened with civil tumult, through the hatred which prevailed between her people and senate. But Pacuvius Calavius, who at this time filled the office of chief magistrate, perceiving the danger, took upon himself to reconcile the contending factions. With this object he assembled the Senate and pointed out to them the hatred in which they were held by the people, and the risk they ran of being put to death by them, and of the city, now that the Romans were in distress, being given up to Hannibal. But he added that, were they to consent to leave the matter with him, he thought he could contrive to reconcile them; in the meanwhile, however, he must shut them up in the palace, that, by putting it in the power of the people to punish them, he might secure their safety.

The senate consenting to this proposal, he shut them up in the palace, and summoning the people to a public meeting, told them the time had at last come for them to trample on the insolence of the nobles, and requite the wrongs suffered at their hands; for he had them all safe under bolt and bar; but, as he supposed they did not wish the city to remain without rulers, it was fit, before putting the old senators to death, they should appoint others in their room. Wherefore he had thrown the names of all the old senators into a bag, and would now proceed to draw them out one by one, and as they were drawn would cause them to be put to death, so soon as a successor was found for each. When the first name he drew was declared, there arose a great uproar among the people, all crying out against the cruelty, pride, and arrogance of that senator whose name it was. But on Pacuvius desiring them to propose a substitute, the meeting was quieted, and after a brief pause one of the commons was nominated. No sooner, however, was his name mentioned than one began to whistle, another to laugh, some jeering at him in one way and some in another. And the same thing happening in every case, each and all of those nominated were judged unworthy of senatorial rank. Whereupon Pacuvius, profiting by the opportunity, said, “Since you are agreed that the city would be badly off without a senate, but are not agreed whom to appoint in the room of the old senators, it will, perhaps, be well for you to be reconciled to them; for the fear into which they have been thrown must have so subdued them, that you are sure to find in them that affability which hitherto you have looked for in vain.” This proposal being agreed to, a reconciliation followed between the two orders; the commons having seen their error so soon as they were obliged to come to particulars.

A people therefore is apt to err in judging of things and their accidents in the abstract, but on becoming acquainted with particulars, speedily discovers its mistakes. In the year 1494, when her greatest citizens were banished from Florence, and no regular government any longer existed there, but a spirit of licence prevailed, and matters went continually from bad to worse, many Florentines perceiving the decay of their city, and discerning no other cause for it, blamed the ambition of this or the other powerful citizen, who, they thought, was fomenting these disorders with a view to establish a government to his own liking, and to rob them of their liberties. Those who thought thus, would hang about the arcades and public squares, maligning many citizens, and giving it to be understood that if ever they found themselves in the Signory, they would expose the designs of these citizens and have them punished. From time to time it happened that one or another of those who used this language rose to be of the chief magistracy, and so soon as he obtained this advancement, and saw things nearer, became aware whence the disorders I have spoken of really came, the dangers attending them, and the difficulty in dealing with them; and recognizing that they were the growth of the times, and not occasioned by particular men, suddenly altered his views and conduct; a nearer knowledge of facts freeing him from the false impressions he had been led into on a general view of affairs. But those who had heard him speak as a private citizen, when they saw him remain inactive after he was made a magistrate, believed that this arose not from his having obtained any better knowledge of things, but from his having been cajoled or corrupted by the great. And this happening with many men and often, it came to be a proverb among the people, that “men had one mind in the market-place, another in the palace.”

Reflecting on what has been said, we see how quickly men’s eyes may be opened, if knowing that they deceive themselves in generalities, we can find a way to make them pass to particulars; as Pacuvius did in the case of the Capuans, and the senate in the case of Rome. Nor do I believe that any prudent man need shrink from the judgment of the people in questions relating to particulars, as, for instance, in the distribution of honours and dignities. For in such matters only, the people are either never mistaken, or at any rate far seldomer than a small number of persons would be, were the distribution entrusted to them.

It seems to me, however, not out of place to notice in the following Chapter, a method employed by the Roman senate to enlighten the people in making this distribution.

CHAPTER XLVIII. — He who would not have an Office bestowed on some worthless or wicked Person, should contrive that it be solicited by one who is utterly worthless and wicked, or else by one who is in the highest degree noble and good.

Whenever the senate saw a likelihood of the tribunes with consular powers being chosen exclusively from the commons, it took one or other of two ways, — either by causing the office to be solicited by the most distinguished among the citizens; or else, to confess the truth, by bribing some base and ignoble fellow to fasten himself on to those other plebeians of better quality who were seeking the office, and become a candidate conjointly with them. The latter device made the people ashamed to give, the former ashamed to refuse.

This confirms what I said in my last Chapter, as to the people deceiving themselves in generalities but not in particulars.

CHAPTER XLIX. — That if Cities which, like Rome, had their beginning in Freedom, have had difficulty in framing such Laws as would preserve their Freedom, Cities which at the first have been in Subjection will find this almost impossible.

How hard it is in founding a commonwealth to provide it with all the laws needed to maintain its freedom, is well seen from the history of the Roman Republic. For although ordinances were given it first by Romulus, then by Numa, afterwards by Tullus Hostilius and Servius, and lastly by the Ten created for the express purpose, nevertheless, in the actual government of Rome new needs were continually developed, to meet which, new ordinances had constantly to be devised; as in the creation of the censors, who were one of the chief means by which Rome was kept free during the whole period of her constitutional government. For as the censors became the arbiters of morals in Rome, it was very much owing to them that the progress of the Romans towards corruption was retarded. And though, at the first creation of the office, a mistake was doubtless made in fixing its term at five years, this was corrected not long after by the wisdom of the dictator Mamercus, who passed a law reducing it to eighteen months; a change which the censors then in office took in such ill part, that they deprived Mamercus of his rank as a senator. This step was much blamed both by the commons and the Fathers; still, as our History does not record that Mamercus obtained any redress, we must infer either that the Historian has omitted something, or that on this head the laws of Rome were defective; since it is never well that the laws of a commonwealth should suffer a citizen to incur irremediable wrong because he promotes a measure favourable to freedom.

But returning to the matter under consideration, we have, in connection with the creation of this new office, to note, that if those cities which, as was the case with Rome, have had their beginning in freedom, and have by themselves maintained that freedom, have experienced great difficulty in framing good laws for the preservation of their liberties, it is little to be wondered at that cities which at the first were dependent, should find it not difficult merely but impossible so to shape their ordinances as to enable them to live free and undisturbed. This difficulty we see to have arisen in the case of Florence, which, being subject at first to the power of Rome and subsequently to that of other rulers, remained long in servitude, taking no thought for herself; and even afterwards, when she could breathe more freely and began to frame her own laws, these, since they were blended with ancient ordinances which were bad, could not themselves be good; and thus for the two hundred years of which we have trustworthy record, our city has gone on patching her institutions, without ever possessing a government in respect of which she could truly be termed a commonwealth.

The difficulties which have been felt in Florence are the same as have been felt in all cities which have had a like origin; and although, repeatedly, by the free and public votes of her citizens, ample authority has been given to a few of their number to reform her constitution, no alteration of general utility has ever been introduced, but only such as forwarded the interests of the party to which those commissioned to make changes belonged. This, instead of order, has occasioned the greatest disorder in our city.

But to come to particulars, I say, that among other matters which have to be considered by the founder of a commonwealth, is the question into whose hands should be committed the power of life and death over its citizens’ This was well seen to in Rome, where, as a rule, there was a right of appeal to the people, but where, on any urgent case arising in which it might have been dangerous to delay the execution of a judicial sentence, recourse could be had to a dictator with powers to execute justice at once; a remedy, however, never resorted to save in cases of extremity. But Florence, and other cities having a like origin, committed this power into the hands of a foreigner, whom they styled Captain, and as he was open to be corrupted by powerful citizens this was a pernicious course. Altering this arrangement afterwards in consequence of changes in their government, they appointed eight citizens to discharge the office of Captain. But this, for a reason already mentioned, namely that a few will always be governed by the will of a few and these the most powerful, was a change from bad to worse.

The city of Venice has guarded herself against a like danger. For in Venice ten citizens are appointed with power to punish any man without appeal; and because, although possessing the requisite authority, this number might not be sufficient to insure the punishment of the powerful, in addition to their council of Ten, they have also constituted a council of Forty, and have further provided that the council of the “Pregai,” which is their supreme council, shall have authority to chastise powerful offenders. So that, unless an accuser be wanting, a tribunal is never wanting in Venice to keep powerful citizens in check.

But when we see how in Rome, with ordinances of her own imposing, and with so many and so wise legislators, fresh occasion arose from day to day for framing new laws favourable to freedom, it is not to be wondered at that, in other cities less happy in their beginnings, difficulties should have sprung up which no ordinances could remedy.

CHAPTER L. — That neither any Council nor any Magistrate should have power to bring the Government of a City to a stay.

T.Q. CINCINNATUS and Cn. Julius Mento being consuls of Rome, and being at variance with one another, brought the whole business of the city to a stay; which the senate perceiving, were moved to create a dictator to do what, by reason of their differences, the consuls would not. But though opposed to one another in everything else, the consuls were of one mind in resisting the appointment of a dictator; so that the senate had no remedy left them but to seek the help of the tribunes, who, supported by their authority, forced the consuls to yield.

Here we have to note, first, the usefulness of the tribunes’ authority in checking the ambitious designs, not only of the nobles against the commons, but also of one section of the nobles against another; and next, that in no city ought things ever to be so ordered that it rests with a few to decide on matters, which, if the ordinary business of the State is to proceed at all, must be carried out. Wherefore, if you grant authority to a council to distribute honours and offices, or to a magistrate to administer any branch of public business, you must either impose an obligation that the duty confided shall be performed, or ordain that, on failure to perform, another may and shall do what has to be done. Otherwise such an arrangement will be found defective and dangerous; as would have been the case in Rome, had it not been possible to oppose the authority of the tribunes to the obstinacy of the consuls.

In the Venetian Republic, the great council distributes honours and offices. But more than once it has happened that the council, whether from ill-humour or from being badly advised, has declined to appoint successors either to the magistrates of the city or to those administering the government abroad. This gave rise to the greatest confusion and disorder; for, on a sudden, both the city itself and the subject provinces found themselves deprived of their lawful governors; nor could any redress be had until the majority of the council were pacified or undeceived. And this disorder must have brought the city to a bad end, had not provision been made against its recurrence by certain of the wiser citizens, who, finding a fit opportunity, passed a law that no magistracy, whether within or without the city, should ever be deemed to have been vacated until it was filled up by the appointment of a successor. In this way the council was deprived of its facilities for stopping public business to the danger of the State.

CHAPTER LI. — What a Prince or Republic does of Necessity, should seem to be done by Choice.

In all their actions, even in those which are matters of necessity rather than choice, prudent men will endeavour so to conduct themselves as to conciliate good-will. This species of prudence was well exercised by the Roman senate when they resolved to grant pay from the public purse to soldiers on active service, who, before, had served at their own charges. For perceiving that under the old system they could maintain no war of any duration, and, consequently, could not undertake a siege or lead an army to any distance from home, and finding it necessary to be able to do both, they decided on granting the pay I have spoken of. But this, which they could not help doing, they did in such a way as to earn the thanks of the people, by whom the concession was so well received that all Rome was intoxicated with delight. For it seemed to them a boon beyond any they could have ventured to hope for, or have dreamed of demanding. And although the tribunes sought to make light of the benefit, by showing the people that their burthens would be increased rather than diminished by it, since taxes would have to be imposed out of which the soldier’s stipend might be paid, they could not persuade them to regard the measure otherwise than with gratitude; which was further increased by the manner in which the senate distributed the taxes, imposing on the nobles all the heavier and greater, and those which had to be paid first.

CHAPTER LII. — That to check the arrogance of a Citizen who is growing too powerful in a State, there is no safer Method, or less open to objection, than to forestall him in those Ways whereby he seeks to advance himself.

It has been seen in the preceding chapter how much credit the nobles gained with the commons by a show of good-will towards them, not only in providing for their military pay, but also in adjusting taxation. Had the senate constantly adhered to methods like these, they would have put an end to all disturbances in Rome, and have deprived the tribunes of the credit they had with the people, and of the influence thence arising. For in truth, in a commonwealth, and especially in one which has become corrupted, there is no better, or easier, or less objectionable way of opposing the ambition of any citizen, than to anticipate him in those paths by which he is seen to be advancing to the ends he has in view. This plan, had it been followed by the enemies of Cosimo de’ Medici, would have proved a far more useful course for them than to banish him from Florence; since if those citizens who opposed him had adopted his methods for gaining over the people, they would have succeeded, without violence or tumult, in taking his most effective weapon from his hands.

The influence acquired in Florence by Piero Soderini was entirely due to his skill in securing the affections of the people, since in this way he obtained among them a name for loving the liberties of the commonwealth. And truly, for those citizens who envied his greatness it would have been both easier and more honourable, and at the same time far less dangerous and hurtful to the State, to forestall him in those measures by which he was growing powerful, than to oppose him in such a manner that his overthrow must bring with it the ruin of the entire republic. For had they, as they might easily have done, deprived him of the weapons which made him formidable, they could then have withstood him in all the councils, and in all public deliberations, without either being suspected or feared. And should any rejoin that, if the citizens who hated Piero Soderini committed an error in not being beforehand with him in those ways whereby he came to have influence with the people, Piero himself erred in like manner, in not anticipating his enemies in those methods whereby they grew formidable to him; I answer that Piero is to be excused, both because it would have been difficult for him to have so acted, and because for him such a course would not have been honourable. For the paths wherein his danger lay were those which favoured the Medici, and it was by these that his enemies attacked him, and in the end overthrew him. But these paths Piero could not pursue without dishonour, since he could not, if he was to preserve his fair fame, have joined in destroying that liberty which he had been put forward to defend. Moreover, since favours to the Medicean party could not have been rendered secretly and once for all, they would have been most dangerous for Piero, who, had he shown himself friendly to the Medici, must have become suspected and hated by the people; in which case his enemies would have had still better opportunities than before for his destruction.

Men ought therefore to look to the risks and dangers of any course which lies before them, nor engage in it when it is plain that the dangers outweigh the advantages, even though they be advised by others that it is the most expedient way to take. Should they act otherwise, it will fare with them as with Tullius, who, in seeking to diminish the power of Marcus Antonius, added to it. For Antonius, who had been declared an enemy by the senate, having got together a strong force, mostly made up of veterans who had shared the fortunes of Cæsar, Tullius counselled the senate to invest Octavianus with full authority, and to send him against Antonius with the consuls and the army; affirming, that so soon as those veterans who had served with Cæsar saw the face of him who was Cæsar’s nephew and had assumed his name, they would rally to his side and desert Antonius, who might easily be crushed when thus left bare of support.

But the reverse of all this happened. For Antonius persuaded Octavianus to take part with him, and to throw over Tullius and the senate. And this brought about the ruin of the senate, a result which might easily have been foreseen. For remembering the influence of that great captain, who, after overthrowing all opponents, had seized on sovereign power in Rome, the senate should have turned a deaf ear to the persuasions of Tullius, nor ever have believed it possible that from Cæsar’s heir, or from soldiers who had followed Cæsar, they could look for anything that consisted with the name of Freedom.

CHAPTER LIII. — That the People, deceived by a false show of Advantage, often desire what would be their Ruin; and that large Hopes and brave Promises easily move them.

When Veii fell, the commons of Rome took up the notion that it would be to the advantage of their city were half their number to go and dwell there. For they argued that as Veii lay in a fertile country and was a well-built city, a moiety of the Roman people might in this way be enriched; while, by reason of its vicinity to Rome, the management of civil affairs would in no degree be affected. To the senate, however, and the wiser among the citizens, the scheme appeared so rash and mischievous that they publicly declared they would die sooner than consent to it. The controversy continuing, the commons grew so inflamed against the senate that violence and bloodshed must have ensued; had not the senate for their protection put forward certain old and esteemed citizens, respect for whom restrained the populace and put a stop to their violence.

Two points are here to be noted. First, that a people deceived by a false show of advantage will often labour for its own destruction; and, unless convinced by some one whom it trusts, that the course on which it is bent is pernicious, and that some other is to be preferred, will bring infinite danger and injury upon the State. And should it so happen, as sometimes is the case, that from having been deceived before, either by men or by events, there is none in whom the people trust, their ruin is inevitable. As to which Dante, in his treatise “De Monarchia,” observes that the people will often raise the cry, “Flourish our death and perish our life.” From which distrust it arises that often in republics the right course is not followed; as when Venice, as has been related, on being attacked by many enemies, could not, until her ruin was complete, resolve to make friends with any one of them by restoring those territories she had taken from them, on account of which war had been declared and a league of princes formed against her.

In considering what courses it is easy, and what it is difficult to persuade a people to follow, this distinction may be drawn: Either what you would persuade them to, presents on the face of it a semblance of gain or loss, or it seems a spirited course or a base one. When any proposal submitted to the people holds out promise of advantage, or seems to them a spirited course to take, though loss lie hid behind, nay, though the ruin of their country be involved in it, they will always be easily led to adopt it; whereas it will always be difficult to persuade the adoption of such courses as wear the appearance of disgrace or loss, even though safety and advantage be bound up with them. The truth of what I say is confirmed by numberless examples both Roman and foreign, modern and ancient. Hence grew the ill opinion entertained in Rome of Fabius Maximus, who could never persuade the people that it behoved them to proceed warily in their conflict with Hannibal, and withstand his onset without fighting. For this the people thought a base course, not discerning the advantage resulting from it, which Fabius could by no argument make plain to them. And so blinded are men in favour of what seems a spirited course, that although the Romans had already committed the blunder of permitting Varro, master of the knights to Fabius, to join battle contrary to the latter’s desire, whereby the army must have been destroyed had not Fabius by his prudence saved it, this lesson was not enough; for afterwards they appointed this Varro to be consul, for no other reason than that he gave out, in the streets and market-places, that he would make an end of Hannibal as soon as leave was given him to do so. Whence came the battle and defeat of Cannæ, and well-nigh the destruction of Rome.

Another example taken from Roman history may be cited to the same effect. After Hannibal had maintained himself for eight or ten years in Italy, during which time the whole country had been deluged with Roman blood, a certain Marcus Centenius Penula, a man of mean origin, but who had held some post in the army, came forward and proposed to the senate that were leave given him to raise a force of volunteers in any part of Italy he pleased, he would speedily deliver Hannibal into their hands, alive or dead. To the senate this man’s offer seemed a rash one; but reflecting that were they to refuse it, and were the people afterwards to hear that it had been made, tumults, ill will, and resentment against them would result, they granted the permission asked; choosing rather to risk the lives of all who might follow Penula, than to excite fresh discontent on the part of the people, to whom they knew that such a proposal would be welcome, and that it would be very hard to dissuade them from it. And so this adventurer, marching forth with an undisciplined and disorderly rabble to meet Hannibal, was, with all his followers, defeated and slain in the very first encounter.

In Greece, likewise, and in the city of Athens, that most grave and prudent statesman, Nicias, could not convince the people that the proposal to go and attack Sicily was disadvantageous; and the expedition being resolved on, contrary to his advice and to the wishes of the wiser among the citizens, resulted in the overthrow of the Athenian power. Scipio, on being appointed consul, asked that the province of Africa might be awarded to him, promising that he would utterly efface Carthage; and when the senate, on the advice of Fabius, refused his request, he threatened to submit the matter to the people as very well knowing that to the people such proposals are always acceptable.

I might cite other instances to the same effect from the history of our own city, as when Messer Ercole Bentivoglio and Antonio Giacomini, being in joint command of the Florentine armies, after defeating Bartolommeo d’Alviano at San Vincenzo, proceeded to invest Pisa. For this enterprise was resolved on by the people in consequence of the brave promises of Messer Ercole; and though many wise citizens disapproved of it, they could do nothing to prevent it, being carried away by the popular will, which took its rise in the assurances of their captain.

I say, then, that there is no readier way to bring about the ruin of a republic, when the power is in the hands of the people, than to suggest daring courses for their adoption. For wherever the people have a voice, such proposals will always be well received, nor will those persons who are opposed to them be able to apply any remedy. And as this occasions the ruin of States, it likewise, and even more frequently, occasions the private ruin of those to whom the execution of these proposals is committed; because the people anticipating victory, do not when there comes defeat ascribe it to the short means or ill fortune of the commander, but to his cowardice and incapacity; and commonly either put him to death, or imprison or banish him; as was done in the case of numberless Carthaginian generals and of many Athenian, no successes they might previously have obtained availing them anything; for all past services are cancelled by a present loss. And so it happened with our Antonio Giacomini, who not succeeding as the people had expected, and as he had promised, in taking Pisa, fell into such discredit with the people, that notwithstanding his countless past services, his life was spared rather by the compassion of those in authority than through any movement of the citizens in his behalf.

CHAPTER LIV. — Of the boundless Authority which a great Man may use to restrain an excited Multitude.

The next noteworthy point in the passage referred to in the foregoing Chapter is, that nothing tends so much to restrain an excited multitude as the reverence felt for some grave person, clothed with authority, who stands forward to oppose them. For not without reason has Virgil said —

“If then, by chance, some reverend chief appear,
 Known for his deeds and for his virtues dear,
 Silent they wait his words and bend a listening ear.”

He therefore who commands an army or governs a city wherein tumult shall have broken out, ought to assume the noblest and bravest bearing he can, and clothe himself with all the ensigns of his station, that he may make himself more revered. It is not many years since Florence was divided into two factions, the Frateschi and Arrabbiati, as they were named, and these coming to open violence, the Frateschi, among whom was Pagolo Antonio Soderini, a citizen of great reputation in these days, were worsted. In the course of these disturbances the people coming with arms in their hands to plunder the house of Soderini, his brother Messer Francesco, then bishop of Volterra and now cardinal, who happened to be dwelling there, so soon as he heard the uproar and saw the crowd, putting on his best apparel and over it his episcopal robes, went forth to meet the armed multitude, and by his words and mien brought them to a stay; and for many days his behaviour was commended by the whole city. The inference from all which is, that there is no surer or more necessary restraint on the violence of an unruly multitude, than the presence of some one whose character and bearing command respect.

But to return once more to the passage we are considering, we see how stubbornly the people clung to this scheme of transplanting themselves to Veii, thinking it for their advantage, and not discerning the mischief really involved in it; so that in addition to the many dissensions which it occasioned, actual violence must have followed, had not the senate with the aid of certain grave and reverend citizens repressed the popular fury.

CHAPTER LV. — That Government is easily carried on in a City wherein the body of the People is not corrupted: and that a Princedom is impossible where Equality prevails, and a Republic where it does not.

Though what we have to fear or hope from cities that have grown corrupted has already been discussed, still I think it not out of place to notice a resolution passed by the senate touching the vow which Camillus made to Apollo of a tenth of the spoil taken from the Veientines. For this spoil having fallen into the hands of the people, the senate, being unable by other means to get any account of it, passed an edict that every man should publicly offer one tenth part of what he had taken. And although this edict was not carried out, from the senate having afterwards followed a different course, whereby, to the content of the people, the claim of Apollo was otherwise satisfied, we nevertheless see from their having entertained such a proposal, how completely the senate trusted to the honesty of the people, when they assumed that no one would withhold any part of what the edict commanded him to give; on the other hand, we see that it never occurred to the people that they might evade the law by giving less than was due, their only thought being to free themselves from the law by openly manifesting their displeasure. This example, together with many others already noticed, shows how much virtue and how profound a feeling of religion prevailed among the Roman people, and how much good was to be expected from them. And, in truth, in the country where virtue like this does not exist, no good can be looked for, as we should look for it in vain in provinces which at the present day are seen to be corrupted; as Italy is beyond all others, though, in some degree, France and Spain are similarly tainted. In which last two countries, if we see not so many disorders spring up as we see daily springing up in Italy, this is not so much due to the superior virtue of their inhabitants (who, to say truth, fall far short of our countrymen), as to their being governed by a king who keeps them united, not merely by his personal qualities, but also by the laws and ordinances of the realm which are still maintained with vigour. In Germany, however, we do see signal excellence and a devout religious spirit prevail among the people, giving rise to the many free States which there maintain themselves, with such strict observance of their laws that none, either within or without their walls, dare encroach on them.

That among this last-named people a great share of the ancient excellence does in truth still flourish, I shall show by an example similar to that which I have above related of the senate and people of Rome. It is customary with the German Free States when they have to expend any large sum of money on the public account, for their magistrates or councils having authority given them in that behalf, to impose a rate of one or two in the hundred on every man’s estate; which rate being fixed, every man, in conformity with the laws of the city, presents himself before the collectors of the impost, and having first made oath to pay the amount justly due, throws into a chest provided for the purpose what he conscientiously believes it fair for him to pay, of which payment none is witness save himself. From this fact it may be gathered what honesty and religion still prevail among this people. For we must assume that each pays his just share, since otherwise the impost would not yield the sum which, with reference to former imposts, it was estimated to yield; whereby the fraud would be detected, and thereupon some other method for raising money have to be resorted to.

At the present time this virtue is the more to be admired, because it seems to have survived in this province only. That it has survived there may be ascribed to two circumstances: first, that the natives have little communication with their neighbours, neither visiting them in their countries nor being visited by them; being content to use such commodities, and subsist on such food, and to wear garments of such materials as their own land supplies; so that all occasion for intercourse, and every cause of corruption is removed. For living after this fashion, they have not learned the manners of the French, the Italians, or the Spaniards, which three nations together are the corruption of the world. The second cause is, that these republics in which a free and pure government is maintained will not suffer any of their citizens either to be, or to live as gentlemen; but on the contrary, while preserving a strict equality among themselves, are bitterly hostile to all those gentlemen and lords who dwell in their neighbourhood; so that if by chance any of these fall into their hands, they put them to death, as the chief promoters of corruption and the origin of all disorders.

But to make plain what I mean when I speak of gentlemen, I say that those are so to be styled who live in opulence and idleness on the revenues of their estates, without concerning themselves with the cultivation of these estates, or incurring any other fatigue for their support. Such persons are very mischievous in every republic or country. But even more mischievous are they who, besides the estates I have spoken of, are lords of strongholds and castles, and have vassals and retainers who render them obedience. Of these two classes of men the kingdom of Naples, the country round Rome, Romagna, and Lombardy are full; and hence it happens that in these provinces no commonwealth or free form of government has ever existed; because men of this sort are the sworn foes to all free institutions.

And since to plant a commonwealth in provinces which are in this condition were impossible, if these are to be reformed at all, it can only be by some one man who is able there to establish a kingdom; the reason being that when the body of the people is grown so corrupted that the laws are powerless to control it, there must in addition to the laws be introduced a stronger force, to wit, the regal, which by its absolute and unrestricted authority may curb the excessive ambition and corruption of the great. This opinion may be supported by the example of Tuscany, in which within a narrow compass of territory there have long existed the three republics of Florence, Lucca, and Siena, while the other cities of that province, although to a certain extent dependent, still show by their spirit and by their institutions that they preserve, or at any rate desire to preserve, their freedom: and this because there are in Tuscany no lords possessed of strongholds, and few or no gentlemen, but so complete an equality prevails, that a prudent statesman, well acquainted with the history of the free States of antiquity, might easily introduce free institutions. Such, however, has been the unhappiness of this our country, that, up to the present hour, it has never produced any man with the power and knowledge which would have enabled him to act in this way.

From what has been said, it follows, that he who would found a commonwealth in a country wherein there are many gentlemen, cannot do so unless he first gets rid of them; and that he who would found a monarchy or princedom in a country wherein great equality prevails, will never succeed, unless he raise above the level of that equality many persons of a restless and ambitious temperament, whom he must make gentlemen not in name merely but in reality, by conferring on them castles and lands, supplying them with riches, and providing them with retainers; that with these gentlemen around him, and with their help, he may maintain his power, while they through him may gratify their ambition; all others being constrained to endure a yoke, which force and force alone imposes on them. For when in this way there comes to be a proportion between him who uses force and him against whom it is used, each stands fixed in his own station.

But to found a commonwealth in a country suited for a kingdom, or a kingdom in a country suited to be a commonwealth, requires so rare a combination of intelligence and power, that though many engage in the attempt, few are found to succeed. For the greatness of the undertaking quickly daunts them, and so obstructs their advance they break down at the very outset. The case of the Venetian Republic, wherein none save gentlemen are permitted to hold any public office, does, doubtless, seem opposed to this opinion of mine that where there are gentlemen it is impossible to found a commonwealth. But it may be answered that the case of Venice is not in truth an instance to the contrary; since the gentlemen of Venice are gentlemen rather in name than in reality, inasmuch as they draw no great revenues from lands, their wealth consisting chiefly in merchandise and chattels, and not one of them possessing a castle or enjoying any feudal authority. For in Venice this name of gentleman is a title of honour and dignity, and does not depend on any of those circumstances in respect of which the name is given in other States. But as in other States the different ranks and classes are divided under different names, so in Venice we have the division into gentlemen (gentiluomini) and plebeians (popolani), it being understood that the former hold, or have the right to hold all situations of honour, from which the latter are entirely excluded. And in Venice this occasions no disturbance, for reasons which I have already explained.

Let a commonwealth, then, be constituted in the country where a great equality is found or has been made; and, conversely, let a princedom be constituted where great inequality prevails. Otherwise what is constituted will be discordant in itself, and without stability.

CHAPTER LVI. — That when great Calamities are about to befall a City or Country, Signs are seen to presage, and Seers arise who foretell them.

Whence it happens I know not, but it is seen from examples both ancient and recent, that no grave calamity has ever befallen any city or country which has not been foretold by vision, by augury, by portent, or by some other Heaven-sent sign. And not to travel too far afield for evidence of this, every one knows that long before the invasion of Italy by Charles VIII. of France, his coming was foretold by the friar Girolamo Savonarola; and how, throughout the whole of Tuscany, the rumour ran that over Arezzo horsemen had been seen fighting in the air. And who is there who has not heard that before the death of the elder Lorenzo de’ Medici, the highest pinnacle of the cathedral was rent by a thunderbolt, to the great injury of the building? Or who, again, but knows that shortly before Piero Soderini, whom the people of Florence had made gonfalonier for life, was deprived of his office and banished, the palace itself was struck by lightning?

Other instances might be cited, which, not to be tedious, I shall omit, and mention only a circumstance which Titus Livius tells us preceded the invasion of the Gauls. For he relates how a certain plebeian named Marcus Ceditius reported to the senate that as he passed by night along the Via Nova, he heard a voice louder than mortal, bidding him warn the magistrates that the Gauls were on their way to Rome.

The causes of such manifestations ought, I think, to be inquired into and explained by some one who has a knowledge, which I have not, of causes natural and supernatural. It may, however, be, as certain wise men say, that the air is filled with intelligent beings, to whom it is given to forecast future events; who, taking pity upon men, warn them beforehand by these signs to prepare for what awaits them. Be this as it may, certain it is that such warnings are given, and that always after them new and strange disasters befall nations.

CHAPTER LVII. — That the People are strong collectively, but individually weak.

After the ruin brought on their country by the invasion of the Gauls, many of the Romans went to dwell in Veii, in opposition to the edicts and commands of the senate, who, to correct this mischief, publicly ordained that within a time fixed, and under penalties stated, all should return to live in Rome. The persons against whom these proclamations were directed at first derided them; but, when the time came for them to be obeyed, all obeyed them. And Titus Livius observes that, “although bold enough collectively, each separately, fearing to be punished, made his submission.” And indeed the temper of the multitude in such cases, cannot be better described than in this passage. For often a people will be open-mouthed in condemning the decrees of their prince, but afterwards, when they have to look punishment in the face, putting no trust in one another, they hasten to comply. Wherefore, if you be in a position to keep the people well-disposed towards you when they already are so, or to prevent them injuring you in case they be ill-disposed, it is clearly of little moment whether the feelings with which they profess to regard you, be favourable or no. This applies to all unfriendliness on the part of a people, whencesoever it proceed, excepting only the resentment felt by them on being deprived either of liberty, or of a prince whom they love and who still survives. For the hostile temper produced by these two causes is more to be feared than any beside, and demands measures of extreme severity to correct it. The other untoward humours of the multitude, should there be no powerful chief to foster them, are easily dealt with; because, while on the one hand there is nothing more terrible than an uncontrolled and headless mob, on the other, there is nothing feebler. For though it be furnished with arms it is easily subdued, if you have some place of strength wherein to shelter from its first onset. For when its first fury has somewhat abated, and each man sees that he has to return to his own house, all begin to lose heart and to take thought how to insure their personal safety, whether by flight or by submission. For which reason a multitude stirred in this way, if it would avoid dangers such as I speak of, must at once appoint a head from among its own numbers, who may control it, keep it united, and provide for its defence; as did the commons of Rome when, after the death of Virginia, they quitted the city, and for their protection created twenty tribunes from among themselves. Unless this be done, what Titus Livius has observed in the passage cited, will always prove true, namely, that a multitude is strong while it holds together, but so soon as each of those who compose it begins to think of his own private danger, it becomes weak and contemptible.

CHAPTER LVIII. — That a People is wiser and more constant than a Prince

That “nothing is more fickle and inconstant than the multitude” is affirmed not by Titus Livius only, but by all other historians, in whose chronicles of human actions we often find the multitude condemning some citizen to death, and afterwards lamenting him and grieving greatly for his loss, as the Romans grieved and lamented for Manlius Capitolinus, whom they had themselves condemned to die. In relating which circumstance our author observes “In a short time the people, having no longer cause to fear him, began to deplore his death” And elsewhere, when speaking of what took place in Syracuse after the murder of Hieronymus, grandson of Hiero, he says, “It is the nature of the multitude to be an abject slave, or a domineering master”

It may be that in attempting to defend a cause, which, as I have said, all writers are agreed to condemn, I take upon me a task so hard and difficult that I shall either have to relinquish it with shame or pursue it with opprobrium. Be that as it may, I neither do, nor ever shall judge it a fault, to support opinion by arguments, where it is not sought to impose them by violence or authority I maintain, then, that this infirmity with which historians tax the multitude, may with equal reason be charged against every individual man, but most of all against princes, since all who are not controlled by the laws, will commit the very same faults as are committed by an uncontrolled multitude. Proof whereof were easy, since of all the many princes existing, or who have existed, few indeed are or have been either wise or good.

I speak of such princes as have had it in their power to break the reins by which they are controlled, among whom I do not reckon those kings who reigned in Egypt in the most remote antiquity when that country was governed in conformity with its laws; nor do I include those kings who reigned in Sparta, nor those who in our own times reign in France, which kingdom, more than any other whereof we have knowledge at the present day, is under the government of its laws. For kings who live, as these do, subject to constitutional restraint, are not to be counted when we have to consider each man’s proper nature, and to see whether he resembles the multitude. For to draw a comparison with such princes as these, we must take the case of a multitude controlled as they are, and regulated by the laws, when we shall find it to possess the same virtues which we see in them, and neither conducting itself as an abject slave nor as a domineering master.

Such was the people of Rome, who, while the commonwealth continued uncorrupted, never either served abjectly nor domineered haughtily; but, on the contrary, by means of their magistrates and their ordinances, maintained their place, and when forced to put forth their strength against some powerful citizen, as in the case of Manlius, the decemvirs, and others who sought to oppress them, did so; but when it was necessary for the public welfare to yield obedience to the dictator or consuls, obeyed. And if the Roman people mourned the loss of the dead Manlius, it is no wonder; for they mourned his virtues, which had been of such a sort that their memory stirred the regret of all, and would have had power to produce the same feelings even in a prince; all writers being agreed that excellence is praised and admired even by its enemies. But if Manlius when he was so greatly mourned, could have risen once more from the dead, the Roman people would have pronounced the same sentence against him which they pronounced when they led him forth from the prison-house, and straightway condemned him to die. And in like manner we see that princes, accounted wise, have put men to death, and afterwards greatly lamented them, as Alexander mourned for Clitus and others of his friends, and Herod for Mariamne.

But what our historian says of the multitude, he says not of a multitude which like the people of Rome is controlled by the laws, but of an uncontrolled multitude like the Syracusans, who were guilty of all these crimes which infuriated and ungoverned men commit, and which were equally committed by Alexander and Herod in the cases mentioned. Wherefore the nature of a multitude is no more to be blamed than the nature of princes, since both equally err when they can do so without regard to consequences. Of which many instances, besides those already given, might be cited from the history of the Roman emperors, and of other princes and tyrants, in whose lives we find such inconstancy and fickleness, as we might look in vain for in a people.

I maintain, therefore, contrary to the common opinion which avers that a people when they have the management of affairs are changeable, fickle, and ungrateful, that these faults exist not in them otherwise than as they exist in individual princes; so that were any to accuse both princes and peoples, the charge might be true, but that to make exception in favour of princes is a mistake; for a people in command, if it be duly restrained, will have the same prudence and the same gratitude as a prince has, or even more, however wise he may be reckoned; and a prince on the other hand, if freed from the control of the laws, will be more ungrateful, fickle, and short-sighted than a people. And further, I say that any difference in their methods of acting results not from any difference in their nature, that being the same in both, or, if there be advantage on either side, the advantage resting with the people, but from their having more or less respect for the laws under which each lives. And whosoever attentively considers the history of the Roman people, may see that for four hundred years they never relaxed in their hatred of the regal name, and were constantly devoted to the glory and welfare of their country, and will find numberless proofs given by them of their consistency in both particulars. And should any allege against me the ingratitude they showed to Scipio, I reply by what has already been said at length on that head, where I proved that peoples are less ungrateful than princes. But as for prudence and stability of purpose, I affirm that a people is more prudent, more stable, and of better judgment than a prince. Nor is it without reason that the voice of the people has been likened to the voice of God; for we see that wide-spread beliefs fulfil themselves, and bring about marvellous results, so as to have the appearance of presaging by some occult quality either weal or woe. Again, as to the justice of their opinions on public affairs, seldom find that after hearing two speakers of equal ability urging them in opposite directions, they do not adopt the sounder view, or are unable to decide on the truth of what they hear. And if, as I have said, a people errs in adopting courses which appear to it bold and advantageous, princes will likewise err when their passions are touched, as is far oftener the case with them than with a people.

We see, too, that in the choice of magistrates a people will choose far more honestly than a prince; so that while you shall never persuade a people that it is advantageous to confer dignities on the infamous and profligate, a prince may readily, and in a thousand ways, be drawn to do so. Again, it may be seen that a people, when once they have come to hold a thing in abhorrence, remain for many ages of the same mind; which we do not find happen with princes. For the truth of both of which assertions the Roman people are my sufficient witness, who, in the course of so many hundred years, and in so many elections of consuls and tribunes, never made four appointments of which they had reason to repent; and, as I have said, so detested the name of king, that no obligation they might be under to any citizen who affected that name, could shield him from the appointed penalty.

Further, we find that those cities wherein the government is in the hands of the people, in a very short space of time, make marvellous progress, far exceeding that made by cities which have been always ruled by princes; as Rome grew after the expulsion of her kings, and Athens after she freed herself from Pisistratus; and this we can ascribe to no other cause than that the rule of a people is better than the rule of a prince.

Nor would I have it thought that anything our historian may have affirmed in the passage cited, or elsewhere, controverts these my opinions. For if all the glories and all the defects both of peoples and of princes be carefully weighed, it will appear that both for goodness and for glory a people is to be preferred. And if princes surpass peoples in the work of legislation, in shaping civil institutions, in moulding statutes, and framing new ordinances, so far do the latter surpass the former in maintaining what has once been established, as to merit no less praise than they.

And to state the sum of the whole matter shortly, I say that popular governments have endured for long periods in the same way as the governments of princes, and that both have need to be regulated by the laws; because the prince who can do what he pleases is a madman, and the people which can do as it pleases is never wise. If, then, we assume the case of a prince bound, and of a people chained down by the laws, greater virtue will appear in the people than in the prince; while if we assume the case of each of them freed from all control, it will be seen that the people commits fewer errors than the prince, and less serious errors, and such as admit of readier cure. For a turbulent and unruly people may be spoken to by a good man, and readily brought back to good ways; but none can speak to a wicked prince, nor any remedy be found against him but by the sword. And from this we may infer which of the two suffers from the worse disease; for if the disease of the people may be healed by words, while that of the prince must be dealt with by the sword, there is none but will judge that evil to be the greater which demands the more violent remedy.

When a people is absolutely uncontrolled, it is not so much the follies which it commits or the evil which it actually does that excites alarm, as the mischief which may thence result, since in such disorders it becomes possible for a tyrant to spring up. But with a wicked prince the contrary is the case; for we dread present ill, and place our hopes in the future, persuading ourselves that the evil life of the prince may bring about our freedom. So that there is this distinction between the two, that with the one we fear what is, with the other what is likely to be. Again, the cruelties of a people are turned against him who it fears will encroach upon the common rights, but the cruelties of the prince against those who he fears may assert those rights.

The prejudice which is entertained against the people arises from this, that any man may speak ill of them openly and fearlessly, even when the government is in their hands; whereas princes are always spoken of with a thousand reserves and a constant eye to consequences.

But since the subject suggests it, it seems to me not out of place to consider what alliances we can most trust, whether those made with commonwealths or those made with princes.

CHAPTER LIX. — To what Leagues or Alliances we may most trust; whether those we make with Commonwealths or those we make with Princes.

Since leagues and alliances are every day entered into by one prince with another, or by one commonwealth with another, and as conventions and treaties are concluded in like manner between princes and commonwealths, it seems to me proper to inquire whether the faith of a commonwealth or that of a prince is the more stable and the safer to count on. All things considered, I am disposed to believe that in most cases they are alike, though in some they differ. Of one thing, however, I am convinced, namely, that engagements made under duress will never be observed either by prince or by commonwealth; and that if menaced with the loss of their territories, both the one and the other will break faith with you and treat you with ingratitude. Demetrius, who was named the “City-taker,” had conferred numberless benefits upon the Athenians; but when, afterwards, on being defeated by his enemies, he sought shelter in Athens, as being a friendly city and under obligations to him, it was refused him; a circumstance which grieved him far more than the loss of his soldiers and army had done. Pompey, in like manner, when routed by Cæsar in Thessaly, fled for refuge to Ptolemy in Egypt, who formerly had been restored by him to his kingdom; by whom he was put to death. In both these instances the same causes were at work, although the inhumanity and the wrong inflicted were less in the case of the commonwealth than of the prince. Still, wherever there is fear, the want of faith will be the same.

And even if there be found a commonwealth or prince who, in order to keep faith, will submit to be ruined, this is seen to result from a like cause. For, as to the prince, it may easily happen that he is friend to a powerful sovereign, whom, though he be at the time without means to defend him, he may presently hope to see restored to his dominions; or it may be that having linked his fortunes with another’s, he despairs of finding either faith or friendship from the enemies of his ally, as was the case with those Neapolitan princes who espoused the interests of France. As to commonwealths, an instance similar to that of the princes last named, is that of Saguntum in Spain, which awaited ruin in adhering to the fortunes of Rome. A like course was also followed by Florence when, in the year 1512, she stood steadfastly by the cause of the French. And taking everything into account, I believe that in cases of urgency, we shall find a certain degree of stability sooner in commonwealths than in princes. For though commonwealths be like-minded with princes, and influenced by the same passions, the circumstance that their movements must be slower, makes it harder for them to resolve than it is for a prince, for which reason they will be less ready to break faith.

And since leagues and alliances are broken for the sake of certain advantages, in this respect also, commonwealths observe their engagements far more faithfully than princes; for abundant examples might be cited of a very slight advantage having caused a prince to break faith, and of a very great advantage having failed to induce a commonwealth to do so. Of this we have an instance in the proposal made to the Athenians by Themistocles, when he told them at a public meeting that he had certain advice to offer which would prove of great advantage to their city, but the nature of which he could not disclose to them, lest it should become generally known, when the opportunity for acting upon it would be lost. Whereupon the Athenians named Aristides to receive his communication, and to act upon it as he thought fit. To him, accordingly, Themistocles showed how the navy of united Greece, for the safety of which the Athenians stood pledged, was so situated that they might either gain it over or destroy it, and thus make themselves absolute masters of the whole country. Aristides reporting to the Athenians that the course proposed by Themistocles was extremely advantageous but extremely dishonourable, the people utterly refused to entertain it. But Philip of Macedon would not have so acted, nor any of those other princes who have sought and found more profit in breaking faith than in any other way.

As to engagements broken off on the pretext that they have not been observed by the other side, I say nothing, since that is a matter of everyday occurrence, and I am speaking here only of those engagements which are broken off on extraordinary grounds; but in this respect, likewise, I believe that commonwealths offend less than princes, and are therefore more to be trusted.

CHAPTER LX. — That the Consulship and all the other Magistracies in Rome were given without respect to Age.

It is seen in the course of the Roman history that, after the consulship was thrown open to the commons, the republic conceded this dignity to all its citizens, without distinction either of age or blood; nay, that in this matter respect for age was never made a ground for preference among the Romans, whose constant aim it was to discover excellence whether existing in old or young. To this we have the testimony of Valerius Corvinus, himself made consul in his twenty-fourth year, who, in addressing his soldiers, said of the consulship that it was “the reward not of birth but of desert.”

Whether the course thus followed by the Romans was well judged or not, is a question on which much might be said. The concession as to blood, however, was made under necessity, and as I have observed on another occasion, the same necessity which obtained in Rome, will be found to obtain in every other city which desires to achieve the results which Rome achieved. For you cannot subject men to hardships unless you hold out rewards, nor can you without danger deprive them of those rewards whereof you have held out hopes. It was consequently necessary to extend, betimes, to the commons the hope of obtaining the consulship, on which hope they fed themselves for a while, without actually realizing it. But afterwards the hope alone was not enough, and it had to be satisfied. For while cities which do not employ men of plebeian birth in any of those undertakings wherein glory is to be gained, as we have seen was the case with Venice, may treat these men as they please, those other cities which desire to do as Rome did, cannot make this distinction. And if there is to be no distinction in respect of blood, nothing can be pleaded for a distinction in respect of age. On the contrary, that distinction must of necessity cease to be observed. For where a young man is appointed to a post which requires the prudence which are is supposed to bring, it must be, since the choice rests with the people, that he is thus advanced in consideration of some noble action which he has performed; but when a young man is of such excellence as to have made a name for himself by some signal achievement, it were much to the detriment of his city were it unable at once to make use of him, but had to wait until he had grown old, and had lost, with youth, that alacrity and vigour by which his country might have profited; as Rome profited by the services of Valerius Corvinus, of Scipio, of Pompey, and of many others who triumphed while yet very young.

BOOK II.

* * * * *

PREFACE.

Men do always, but not always with reason, commend the past and condemn the present, and are so much the partisans of what has been, as not merely to cry up those times which are known to them only from the records left by historians, but also, when they grow old, to extol the days in which they remember their youth to have been spent. And although this preference of theirs be in most instances a mistaken one, I can see that there are many causes to account for it; chief of which I take to be that in respect of things long gone by we perceive not the whole truth, those circumstances that would detract from the credit of the past being for the most part hidden from us, while all that gives it lustre is magnified and embellished. For the generality of writers render this tribute to the good fortune of conquerors, that to make their achievements seem more splendid, they not merely exaggerate the great things they have done, but also lend such a colour to the actions of their enemies, that any one born afterwards, whether in the conquering or in the conquered country, has cause to marvel at these men and these times, and is constrained to praise and love them beyond all others.

Again, men being moved to hatred either by fear or envy, these two most powerful causes of dislike are cancelled in respect of things which are past, because what is past can neither do us hurt, nor afford occasion for envy. The contrary, however, is the case with the things we see, and in which we take part; for in these, from our complete acquaintance with them, no part of them being hidden from us, we recognize, along with much that is good, much that displeases us, and so are forced to pronounce them far inferior to the old, although in truth they deserve far greater praise and admiration. I speak not, here, of what relates to the arts, which have such distinction inherent in them, that time can give or take from them but little of the glory which they merit of themselves. I speak of the lives and manners of men, touching which the grounds for judging are not so clear.

I repeat, then, that it is true that this habit of blaming and praising obtains, but not always true that it is wrong applied. For sometimes it will happen that this judgment is just; because, as human affairs are in constant movement, it must be that they either rise or fall. Wherefore, we may see a city or province furnished with free institutions by some great and wise founder, flourish for a while through his merits, and advance steadily on the path of improvement. Any one born therein at that time would be in the wrong to praise the past more than the present, and his error would be occasioned by the causes already noticed. But any one born afterwards in that city or province when the time has come for it to fall away from its former felicity, would not be mistaken in praising the past.

When I consider how this happens, I am persuaded that the world, remaining continually the same, has in it a constant quantity of good and evil; but that this good and this evil shift about from one country to another, as we know that in ancient times empire shifted from one nation to another, according as the manners of these nations changed, the world, as a whole, continuing as before, and the only difference being that, whereas at first Assyria was made the seat of its excellence, this was afterwards placed in Media, then in Persia, until at last it was transferred to Italy and Rome. And although after the Roman Empire, none has followed which has endured, or in which the world has centred its whole excellence, we nevertheless find that excellence diffused among many valiant nations, the kingdom of the Franks, for example, that of the Turks, that of the Soldan, and the States of Germany at the present day; and shared at an earlier time by that sect of the Saracens who performed so many great achievements and gained so wide a dominion, after destroying the Roman Empire in the East.

In all these countries, therefore, after the decline of the Roman power, and among all these races, there existed, and in some part of them there yet exists, that excellence which alone is to be desired and justly to be praised. Wherefore, if any man being born in one of these countries should exalt past times over present, he might be mistaken; but any who, living at the present day in Italy or Greece, has not in Italy become an ultramontane or in Greece a Turk, has reason to complain of his own times, and to commend those others, in which there were many things which made them admirable; whereas, now, no regard being had to religion, to laws, or to arms, but all being tarnished with every sort of shame, there is nothing to redeem the age from the last extremity of wretchedness, ignominy, and disgrace. And the vices of our age are the more odious in that they are practised by those who sit on the judgment seat, govern the State, and demand public reverence.

But, returning to the matter in hand, it may be said, that if the judgment of men be at fault in pronouncing whether the present age or the past is the better in respect of things whereof, by reason of their antiquity, they cannot have the same perfect knowledge which they have of their own times, it ought not to be at fault in old men when they compare the days of their youth with those of their maturity, both of which have been alike seen and known by them. This were indeed true, if men at all periods of their lives judged of things in the same way, and were constantly influenced by the same desires; but since they alter, the times, although they alter not, cannot but seem different to those who have other desires, other pleasures, and other ways of viewing things in their old age from those they had in their youth. For since, when they grow old, men lose in bodily strength but gain in wisdom and discernment, it must needs be that those things which in their youth seemed to them tolerable and good, should in their old age appear intolerable and evil. And whereas they should ascribe this to their judgment, they lay the blame upon the times.

But, further, since the desires of men are insatiable, Nature prompting them to desire all things and Fortune permitting them to enjoy but few, there results a constant discontent in their minds, and a loathing of what they possess, prompting them to find fault with the present, praise the past, and long for the future, even though they be not moved thereto by any reasonable cause.

I know not, therefore, whether I may not deserve to be reckoned in the number of those who thus deceive themselves, if, in these Discourses of mine, I render excessive praise to the ancient times of the Romans while I censure our own. And, indeed, were not the excellence which then prevailed and the corruption which prevails now clearer than the sun, I should proceed more guardedly in what I have to say, from fear lest in accusing others I should myself fall into this self-deception. But since the thing is so plain that every one sees it, I shall be bold to speak freely all I think, both of old times and of new, in order that the minds of the young who happen to read these my writings, may be led to shun modern examples, and be prepared to follow those set by antiquity whenever chance affords the opportunity. For it is the duty of every good man to teach others those wholesome lessons which the malice of Time or of Fortune has not permitted him to put in practice; to the end, that out of many who have the knowledge, some one better loved by Heaven may be found able to carry them out.

Having spoken, then, in the foregoing Book of the various methods followed by the Romans in regulating the domestic affairs of their city, in this I shall speak of what was done by them to spread their Empire.

CHAPTER I. — Whether the Empire acquired by the Romans was more due to Valour or to Fortune.

Many authors, and among others that most grave historian Plutarch, have thought that in acquiring their empire the Romans were more beholden to their good fortune than to their valour; and besides other reasons which they give for this opinion, they affirm it to be proved by the admission of the Romans themselves, since their having erected more temples to Fortune than to any other deity, shows that it was to her that they ascribed their success. It would seem, too, that Titus Livius was of the same mind, since he very seldom puts a speech into the mouth of any Roman in which he discourses of valour, wherein he does not also make mention of Fortune. This, however, is an opinion with which I can in no way concur, and which, I take it, cannot be made good. For if no commonwealth has ever been found to grow like the Roman, it is because none was ever found so well fitted by its institutions to make that growth. For by the valour of her armies she spread her empire, while by her conduct of affairs, and by other methods peculiar to herself and devised by her first founder, she was able to keep what she acquired, as shall be fully shown in many of the following Discourses.

The writers to whom I have referred assert that it was owing to their good fortune and not to their prudence that the Romans never had two great wars on their hands at once; as, for instance, that they waged no wars with the Latins until they had not merely overcome the Samnites, but undertook in their defence the war on which they then entered; nor ever fought with the Etruscans until they had subjugated the Latins, and had almost worn out the Samnites by frequent defeats; whereas, had any two of these powers, while yet fresh and unexhausted, united together, it may easily be believed that the ruin of the Roman Republic must have followed. But to whatsoever cause we ascribe it, it never so chanced that the Romans engaged in two great wars at the same time. On the contrary, it always seemed as though on the breaking out of one war, another was extinguished; or that on the termination of one, another broke out. And this we may plainly see from the order in which their wars succeeded one another.

For, omitting those waged by them before their city was taken by the Gauls, we find that during their struggle with the Equians and the Volscians, and while these two nations continued strong, no others rose against them. On these being subdued, there broke out the war with the Samnites; and although before the close of that contest the Latin nations had begun to rebel against Rome, nevertheless, when their rebellion came to a head, the Samnites were in league with Rome, and helped her with their army to quell the presumption of the rebels; on whose defeat the war with Samnium was renewed.

When the strength of Samnium had been drained by repeated reverses, there followed the war with the Etruscans; which ended, the Samnites were once more stirred to activity by the coming of Pyrrhus into Italy. When he, too, had been defeated, and sent back to Greece, Rome entered on her first war with the Carthaginians; which was no sooner over than all the Gallic nations on both sides of the Alps combined against the Romans, by whom, in the battle fought between Populonia and Pisa, where now stands the fortress of San Vincenzo, they were at last routed with tremendous slaughter.

This war ended, for twenty years together the Romans were engaged in no contest of importance, their only adversaries being the Ligurians, and the remnant of the Gallic tribes who occupied Lombardy; and on this footing things continued down to the second Carthaginian war, which for sixteen years kept the whole of Italy in a blaze. This too being brought to a most glorious termination, there followed the Macedonian war, at the close of which succeeded the war with Antiochus and Asia. These subdued, there remained not in the whole world, king or people who either singly or together could withstand the power of Rome.

But even before this last victory, any one observing the order of these wars, and the method in which they were conducted, must have recognized not only the good fortune of the Romans, but also their extraordinary valour and prudence. And were any one to search for the causes of this good fortune, he would have little difficulty in finding them, since nothing is more certain than that when a potentate has attained so great a reputation that every neighbouring prince or people is afraid to engage him single-handed, and stands in awe of him, none will ever venture to attack him, unless driven to do so by necessity; so that it will almost rest on his will to make war as he likes on any of his neighbours, while he studiously maintains peace with the rest; who, on their part, whether through fear of his power, or deceived by the methods he takes to dull their vigilance, are easily kept quiet. Distant powers, in the mean time, who have no intercourse with either, treat the matter as too remote to concern them in any way; and abiding in this error until the conflagration approaches their own doors, on its arrival have no resource for its extinction, save in their own strength, which, as their enemy has by that time become exceedingly powerful, no longer suffices.

I forbear to relate how the Samnites stood looking on while the Romans were subjugating the Equians and the Volscians; and, to avoid being prolix, shall content myself with the single instance of the Carthaginians, who, at the time when the Romans were contending with the Samnites and Etruscans, were possessed of great power and held in high repute, being already masters of the whole of Africa together with Sicily and Sardinia, besides occupying territory in various parts of Spain. And because their empire was so great, and at such a distance from the Roman frontier, they were never led to think of attacking the Romans or of lending assistance to the Etruscans or Samnites. On the contrary, they behaved towards the Romans as men behave towards those whom they see prosper, rather taking their part and courting their friendship. Nor did they discover their mistake until the Romans, after subduing all the intervening nations, began to assail their power both in Spain and Sicily. What happened in the case of the Carthaginians, happened also in the case of the Gauls, of Philip of Macedon, and of Antiochus, each of whom, while Rome was engaged with another of them, believed that other would have the advantage, and that there would be time enough to provide for their own safety, whether by making peace or war. It seems to me, therefore, that the same good fortune which, in this respect, attended the Romans, might be shared by all princes acting as they did, and of a valour equal to theirs.

As bearing on this point, it might have been proper for me to show what methods were followed by the Romans in entering the territories of other nations, had I not already spoken of this at length in my Treatise on Princedoms, wherein the whole subject is discussed. Here it is enough to say briefly, that in a new province they always sought for some friend who should be to them as a ladder whereby to climb, a door through which to pass, or an instrument wherewith to keep their hold. Thus we see them effect their entrance into Samnium through the Capuans, into Etruria through the Camertines, into Sicily through the Mamertines, into Spain through the Saguntans, into Africa through Massinissa, into Greece through the Etolians, into Asia through Eumenes and other princes, into Gaul through the Massilians and Eduans; and, in like manner, never without similar assistance in their efforts whether to acquire provinces or to keep them.

The nations who carefully attend to this precaution will be seen to stand in less need of Fortune’s help than others who neglect it. But that all may clearly understand how much more the Romans were aided by valour than by Fortune in acquiring their empire, I shall in the following Chapter consider the character of those nations with whom they had to contend, and show how stubborn these were in defending their freedom.

CHAPTER II. — With what Nations the Romans had to contend, and how stubborn these were in defending their Freedom.

In subduing the countries round about them, and certain of the more distant provinces, nothing gave the Romans so much trouble, as the love which in those days many nations bore to freedom, defending it with such obstinacy as could not have been overcome save by a surpassing valour. For we know by numberless instances, what perils these nations were ready to face in their efforts to maintain or recover their freedom, and what vengeance they took against those who deprived them of it. We know, too, from history, what hurt a people or city suffers from servitude. And though, at the present day, there is but one province which can be said to contain within it free cities, we find that formerly these abounded everywhere. For we learn that in the ancient times of which I speak, from the mountains which divide Tuscany from Lombardy down to the extreme point of Italy, there dwelt numerous free nations, such as the Etruscans, the Romans, and the Samnites, besides many others in other parts of the Peninsula. Nor do we ever read of there being any kings over them, except those who reigned in Rome, and Porsenna, king of Etruria. How the line of this last-named prince came to be extinguished, history does not inform us; but it is clear that at the time when the Romans went to besiege Veii, Etruria was free, and so greatly rejoiced in her freedom, and so detested the regal name, that when the Veientines, who for their defence had created a king in Veii, sought aid from the Etruscans against Rome, these, after much deliberation resolved to lend them no help while they continued to live under a king; judging it useless to defend a country given over to servitude by its inhabitants.

It is easy to understand whence this love of liberty arises among nations, for we know by experience that States have never signally increased, either as to dominion or wealth, except where they have lived under a free government. And truly it is strange to think to what a pitch of greatness Athens came during the hundred years after she had freed herself from the despotism of Pisistratus; and far stranger to contemplate the marvellous growth which Rome made after freeing herself from her kings. The cause, however, is not far to seek, since it is the well-being, not of individuals, but of the community which makes a State great; and, without question, this universal well-being is nowhere secured save in a republic. For a republic will do whatsoever makes for its interest; and though its measures prove hurtful to this man or to that, there are so many whom they benefit, that these are able to carry them out, in spite of the resistance of the few whom they injure.

But the contrary happens in the case of a prince; for, as a rule, what helps him hurts the State, and what helps the State hurts him; so that whenever a tyranny springs up in a city which has lived free, the least evil which can befall that city is to make no further progress, nor ever increase in power or wealth; but in most cases, if not in all, it will be its fate to go back. Or should there chance to arise in it some able tyrant who extends his dominions by his valour and skill in arms, the advantage which results is to himself only, and not to the State; since he can bestow no honours on those of the citizens over whom he tyrannizes who have shown themselves good and valiant, lest afterwards he should have cause to fear them. Nor can he make those cities which he acquires, subject or tributary to the city over which he rules; because to make this city powerful is not for his interest, which lies in keeping it so divided that each town and province may separately recognize him alone as its master. In this way he only, and not his country, is the gainer by his conquests. And if any one desire to have this view confirmed by numberless other proofs, let him look into Xenophon’s treatise De Tirannide.

No wonder, then, that the nations of antiquity pursued tyrants with such relentless hatred, and so passionately loved freedom that its very name was dear to them, as was seen when Hieronymus, grandson of Hiero the Syracusan, was put to death in Syracuse. For when word of his death reached the army, which lay encamped not far off, at first it was greatly moved, and eager to take up arms against the murderers. But on hearing the cry of liberty shouted in the streets of Syracuse, quieted at once by the name, it laid aside its resentment against those who had slain the tyrant, and fell to consider how a free government might be provided for the city.

Nor is it to be wondered at that the ancient nations took terrible vengeance on those who deprived them of their freedom; of which, though there be many instances, I mean only to cite one which happened in the city of Corcyra at the time of the Peloponnesian war. For Greece being divided into two factions, one of which sided with the Athenians, the other with the Spartans, it resulted that many of its cities were divided against themselves, some of the citizens seeking the friendship of Sparta and some of Athens. In the aforesaid city of Corcyra, the nobles getting the upper hand, deprived the commons of their freedom; these, however, recovering themselves with the help of the Athenians, laid hold of the entire body of the nobles, and cast them into a prison large enough to contain them all, whence they brought them forth by eight or ten at a time, pretending that they were to be sent to different places into banishment, whereas, in fact, they put them to death with many circumstances of cruelty. Those who were left, learning what was going on, resolved to do their utmost to escape this ignominious death, and arming themselves with what weapons they could find, defended the door of their prison against all who sought to enter; till the people, hearing the tumult and rushing in haste to the prison, dragged down the roof, and smothered the prisoners in the ruins. Many other horrible and atrocious cruelties likewise perpetrated in Greece, show it to be true that a lost freedom is avenged with more ferocity than a threatened freedom is defended.

When I consider whence it happened that the nations of antiquity were so much more zealous in their love of liberty than those of the present day, I am led to believe that it arose from the same cause which makes the present generation of men less vigorous and daring than those of ancient times, namely the difference of the training of the present day from that of earlier ages; and this, again, arises from the different character of the religions then and now prevailing. For our religion, having revealed to us the truth and the true path, teaches us to make little account of worldly glory; whereas, the Gentiles, greatly esteeming it, and placing therein their highest good, displayed a greater fierceness in their actions.

This we may gather from many of their customs, beginning with their sacrificial rites, which were of much magnificence as compared with the simplicity of our worship, though that be not without a certain dignity of its own, refined rather than splendid, and far removed from any tincture of ferocity or violence. In the religious ceremonies of the ancients neither pomp nor splendour were wanting; but to these was joined the ordinance of sacrifice, giving occasion to much bloodshed and cruelty. For in its celebration many beasts were slaughtered, and this being a cruel spectacle imparted a cruel temper to the worshippers. Moreover, under the old religions none obtained divine honours save those who were loaded with worldly glory, such as captains of armies and rulers of cities; whereas our religion glorifies men of a humble and contemplative, rather than of an active life. Accordingly, while the highest good of the old religions consisted in magnanimity, bodily strength, and all those other qualities which make men brave, our religion places it in humility, lowliness, and contempt for the things of this world; or if it ever calls upon us to be brave, it is that we should be brave to suffer rather than to do.

This manner of life, therefore, seems to have made the world feebler, and to have given it over as a prey to wicked men to deal with as they please; since the mass of mankind, in the hope of being received into Paradise, think more how to bear injuries than how to avenge them. But should it seem that the world has grown effeminate and Heaven laid aside her arms, this assuredly results from the baseness of those who have interpreted our religion to accord with indolence and ease rather than with valour. For were we to remember that religion permits the exaltation and defence of our country, we would see it to be our duty to love and honour it, and would strive to be able and ready to defend it.

This training, therefore, and these most false interpretations are the causes why, in the world of the present day, we find no longer the numerous commonwealths which were found of old; and in consequence, that we see not now among the nations that love of freedom which prevailed then; though, at the same time, I am persuaded that one cause of this change has been, that the Roman Empire by its arms and power put an end to all the free States and free institutions of antiquity. For although the power of Rome fell afterwards into decay, these States could never recover their strength or resume their former mode of government, save in a very few districts of the Empire.

But, be this as it may, certain it is that in every country of the world, even the least considerable, the Romans found a league of well-armed republics, most resolute in the defence of their freedom, whom it is clear they never could have subdued had they not been endowed with the rarest and most astonishing valour. To cite a single instance, I shall take the case of the Samnites who, strange as it may now seem, were on the admission of Titus Livius himself, so powerful and so steadfast in arms, as to be able to withstand the Romans down to the consulship of Papirius Cursor, son to the first Papirius, a period of six and forty years, in spite of numerous defeats, the loss of many of their towns, and the great slaughter which overtook them everywhere throughout their country. And this is the more remarkable when we see that country, which once contained so many noble cities, and supported so great a population, now almost uninhabited; and reflect that it formerly enjoyed a government and possessed resources making its conquest impossible to less than Roman valour.

There is no difficulty, therefore, in determining whence that ancient greatness and this modern decay have arisen, since they can be traced to the free life formerly prevailing and to the servitude which prevails now. For all countries and provinces which enjoy complete freedom, make, as I have said, most rapid progress. Because, from marriage being less restricted in these countries, and more sought after, we find there a greater population; every man being disposed to beget as many children as he thinks he can rear, when he has no anxiety lest they should be deprived of their patrimony, and knows not only that they are born to freedom and not to slavery, but that they may rise by their merit to be the first men of their country. In such States, accordingly, we see wealth multiply, both that which comes from agriculture and that which comes from manufactures. For all love to gather riches and to add to their possessions when their enjoyment of them is not likely to be disturbed. And hence it happens that the citizens of such States vie with one another in whatever tends to promote public or private well-being; in both of which, consequently, there is a wonderful growth.

But the contrary of all this takes place in those countries which live in servitude, and the more oppressive their servitude, the more they fall short of the good which all desire. And the hardest of all hard servitudes is that wherein one commonwealth is subjected to another. First, because it is more lasting, and there is less hope to escape from it; and, second, because every commonwealth seeks to add to its own strength by weakening and enfeebling all beside. A prince who gets the better of you will not treat you after this fashion, unless he be a barbarian like those eastern despots who lay countries waste and destroy the labours of civilization; but if influenced by the ordinary promptings of humanity, will, as a rule, regard all his subject States with equal favour, and suffer them to pursue their usual employments, and retain almost all their ancient institutions, so that if they flourish not as free States might, they do not dwindle as States that are enslaved; by which I mean enslaved by a stranger, for of that other slavery to which they may be reduced by one of their own citizens, I have already spoken.

Whoever, therefore, shall well consider what has been said above, will not be astonished at the power possessed by the Samnites while they were still free, nor at the weakness into which they fell when they were subjugated. Of which change in their fortunes Livius often reminds us, and particularly in connection with the war with Hannibal, where he relates that the Samnites, being ill-treated by a Roman legion quartered at Nola, sent legates to Hannibal to ask his aid; who in laying their case before him told him, that with their own soldiers and captains they had fought single handed against the Romans for a hundred years, and had more than once withstood two consuls and two consular armies; but had now fallen so low, that they were scarce able to defend themselves against one poor legion.

CHAPTER III. — That Rome became great by destroying the Cities which lay round about her, and by readily admitting strangers to the rights of Citizenship.

“Crescit interea Roma Albæ ruinis” — Meanwhile Rome grows on the ruins of Alba. They who would have their city become a great empire, must endeavour by every means to fill it with inhabitants; for without a numerous population no city can ever succeed in growing powerful. This may be effected in two ways, by gentleness or by force. By gentleness, when you offer a safe and open path to all strangers who may wish to come and dwell in your city, so as to encourage them to come there of their own accord; by force, when after destroying neighbouring towns, you transplant their inhabitants to live in yours. Both of these methods were practised by Rome, and with such success, that in the time of her sixth king there dwelt within her walls eighty thousand citizens fit to bear arms. For the Romans loved to follow the methods of the skilful husbandman, who, to insure a plant growing big and yielding and maturing its fruit, cuts off the first shoots it sends out, that the strength remaining in the stem, it may in due season put forth new and more vigorous and more fruitful branches. And that this was a right and a necessary course for Rome to take for establishing and extending her empire, is proved by the example of Sparta and Athens, which, although exceedingly well-armed States, and regulated by excellent laws, never reached the same greatness as the Roman Republic; though the latter, to all appearance, was more turbulent and disorderly than they, and, so far as laws went, not so perfectly governed. For this we can offer no other explanation than that already given. For by augmenting the numbers of her citizens in both the ways named, Rome was soon able to place two hundred and eighty thousand men under arms; while neither Sparta nor Athens could ever muster more than twenty thousand; and this, not because the situation of these countries was less advantageous than that of Rome, but simply from the difference in the methods they followed.

For Lycurgus, the founder of the Spartan Republic, thinking nothing so likely to relax his laws as an admixture of new citizens, did all he could to prevent intercourse with strangers; with which object, besides refusing these the right to marry, the right of citizenship, and all such other social rights as induce men to become members of a community, he ordained that in this republic of his the only money current should be of leather, so that none might be tempted to repair thither to trade or to carry on any art.

Under such circumstances the number of the inhabitants of that State could never much increase. For as all our actions imitate nature, and it is neither natural nor possible that a puny stem should carry a great branch, so a small republic cannot assume control over cities or countries stronger than herself; or, doing so, will resemble the tree whose boughs being greater than its trunk, are supported with difficulty, and snapped by every gust of wind. As it proved with Sparta. For after she had spread her dominion over all the cities of Greece, no sooner did Thebes rebel than all the others rebelled likewise, and the trunk was left stripped of its boughs. But this could not have happened with Rome, whose stem was mighty enough to bear any branch with ease.

It was, therefore, by adding to her population, and by, adopting certain other methods presently to be noticed, that Rome became so great and powerful. And this is well expressed by Titus Livius, in the words, “Crescit interea Roma Albae ruinis.”

CHAPTER IV. — That Commonwealths have followed three Methods for extending their Power.

Any one who has read ancient history with attention, must have observed that three methods have been used by republics for extending their power. One of these, followed by the old Etruscans, is to form a confederation of many States, wherein none has precedence over the rest in authority or rank, and each allows the others to share its acquisitions; as do the States of the Swiss League in our days, and as the Achaians and Etolians did in Greece in earlier times. And because the Etruscans were opposed to the Romans in many wars, that I may give a clearer notion of this method of theirs, I shall enlarge a little in my account of the Etruscan people.

In Italy, before the Romans became supreme, the Etruscans were very powerful, both by sea and land; and although we have no separate history of their affairs, we have some slight records left us of them, and some indications of their greatness. We know, for instance, that they planted a colony, to which they gave the name of Hadria, on the coast of the upper sea; which colony became so renowned that it lent its name to the sea itself, which to this day by the Latins is called the Hadriatic. We know, too, that their arms were obeyed from the Tiber to the foot of the mountains which enclose the greater part of the Italian peninsula; although, two hundred years before Rome grew to any great strength, they had lost their supremacy in the province now known as Lombardy, of which the French had possessed themselves. For that people, whether driven by necessity, or attracted by the excellence of the fruits, and still more of the wine of Italy, came there under their chief, Bellovesus; and after defeating and expelling the inhabitants of the country, settled themselves therein, and there built many cities; calling the district Gallia, after the name they then bore: and this territory they retained until they were subdued by the Romans.

These Etruscans, therefore, living with one another on a footing of complete equality, when they sought to extend their power, followed that first method of which I have just now spoken. Their State was made up of twelve cities, among which were Chiusi, Veii, Friuli, Arezzo, Volterra, and the like, and their government was conducted in the form of a league. They could not, however, extend their conquests beyond Italy; while even within the limits of Italy, much territory remained unoccupied by them for reasons presently to be noticed.

The second method is to provide yourself with allies or companions, taking heed, however, to retain in your own hands the chief command, the seat of government, and the titular supremacy. This was the method followed by the Romans.

The third method is to hold other States in direct subjection to you, and not merely associated with you as companions; and this was the plan pursued by the Spartans and Athenians.

Of these three methods, the last is wholly useless, as was seen in the case of the two States named, which came to ruin from no other cause than that they had acquired a dominion greater than they could maintain. For to undertake to govern cities by force, especially such cities as have been used to live in freedom, is a difficult and arduous task, in which you never can succeed without an army and that a great one. But to have such an army you must needs have associates who will help to swell the numbers of your own citizens. And because Athens and Sparta neglected this precaution, whatever they did was done in vain; whereas Rome, which offers an instance of the second of the methods we are considering, by attending to this precaution reached a power that had no limit. And as she alone has lived in this way, so she alone has attained to this pitch of power. For joining with herself many States throughout Italy as her companions, who in most respects lived with her on a footing of equality, while, as has been noted, always reserving to herself the seat of empire and the titular command, it came about that these States, without being aware of it, by their own efforts, and with their own blood, wrought out their own enslavement.

For when Rome began to send armies out of Italy, for the purpose of reducing foreign kingdoms to provinces, and of subjugating nations who, being used to live under kings, were not impatient of her yoke, and who, receiving Roman governors, and having been conquered by armies bearing the Roman name, recognized no masters save the Romans, those companions of Rome who dwelt in Italy suddenly found themselves surrounded by Roman subjects, and weighed down by the greatness of the Roman power; and when at last they came to perceive the mistake in which they had been living, it was too late to remedy it, so vast was the authority which Rome had then obtained over foreign countries, and so great the resources which she possessed within herself; having by this time grown to be the mightiest and best-armed of States. So that although these her companions sought to avenge their wrongs by conspiring against her, they were soon defeated in the attempt, and remained in a worse plight than before, since they too became subjects and no longer associates. This method, then, as I have said, was followed by the Romans alone; but no other plan can be pursued by a republic which desires to extend its power; experience having shown none other so safe and certain.

The method which consists in forming leagues, of which I have spoken above as having been adopted by the Etruscans, the Achaians, and the Etolians of old, and in our own days by the Swiss, is the next best after that followed by the Romans, for as in this way there can be no great extension of power, two advantages result: first, that you do not readily involve yourself in war; and, second, that you can easily preserve any little acquisition which you may make. The reason why you cannot greatly extend your power is, that as your league is made up of separate States with distinct seats of government, it is difficult for these to consult and resolve in concert. The same causes make these States careless to enlarge their territories; because acquisitions which have to be shared among many communities are less thought of than those made by a single republic which looks to enjoy them all to itself. Again, since leagues govern through general councils, they must needs be slower in resolving than a nation dwelling within one frontier.

Moreover, we find from experience that this method has certain fixed limits beyond which there is no instance of its ever having passed; by which I mean that some twelve or fourteen communities may league themselves together, but will never seek to pass beyond that limit: for after associating themselves in such numbers as seem to them to secure their safety against all besides, they desire no further extension of their power, partly because no necessity compels them to extend, and partly because, for the reasons already given, they would find no profit in extending. For were they to seek extension they would have to follow one of two courses: either continuing to admit new members to their league, whose number must lead to confusion; or else making subjects, a course which they will avoid since they will see difficulty in making them, and no great good in having them. Wherefore, when their number has so increased that their safety seems secured, they have recourse to two expedients: either receiving other States under their protection and engaging for their defence (in which way they obtain money from various quarters which they can easily distribute among themselves); or else hiring themselves out as soldiers to foreign States, and drawing pay from this or the other prince who employs them to carry out his enterprises; as we see done by the Swiss at the present day, and as we read was done in ancient times by certain of those nations whom we have named above. To which we have a witness in Titus Livius, who relates that when Philip of Macedon came to treat with Titus Quintius Flamininus, and while terms were being discussed in the presence of a certain Etolian captain, this man coming to words with Philip, the latter taunted him with greed and bad faith; telling him that the Etolians were not ashamed to draw pay from one side, and then send their men to serve on the other; so that often the banner of Etolia might be seen displayed in two hostile camps.

We see, therefore, that the method of proceeding by leagues has always been of the same character, and has led always to the same results. We see, likewise, that the method which proceeds by reducing States to direct subjection has constantly proved a weak one, and produced insignificant gains; and that whenever these gains have passed a certain limit, ruin has ensued. And if the latter of these two methods be of little utility among armed States, among those that are unarmed, as is now the case with the republics of Italy, it is worse than useless. We may conclude, therefore, that the true method was that followed by the Romans; which is the more remarkable as we find none who adopted it before they did, and none who have followed it since. As for leagues, I know of no nations who have had recourse to them in recent times except the Swiss and the Suevians.

But to bring my remarks on this head to an end, I affirm that all the various methods followed by the Romans in conducting their affairs, whether foreign or domestic, so far from being imitated in our day, have been held of no account, some pronouncing them to be mere fables, some thinking them impracticable, others out of place and unprofitable; and so, abiding in this ignorance, we rest a prey to all who have chosen to invade our country. But should it seem difficult to tread in the footsteps of the Romans, it ought not to appear so hard, especially for us Tuscans, to imitate the Tuscans of antiquity, who if, from the causes already assigned, they failed to establish an empire like that of Rome, succeeded in acquiring in Italy that degree of power which their method of acting allowed, and which they long preserved in security, with the greatest renown in arms and government, and the highest reputation for manners and religion. This power and this glory of theirs were first impaired by the Gauls, and afterwards extinguished by the Romans, and so utterly extinguished, that of the Etruscan Empire, so splendid two thousand years ago, we have at the present day barely a record. This it is which has led me to inquire whence this oblivion of things arises, a question of which I shall treat in the following Chapter.

CHAPTER V. — That changes in Sects and Tongues, and the happening of Floods and Pestilences, obliterate the Memory of the Past.

To those philosophers who will have it that the world has existed from all eternity, it were, I think, a good answer, that if what they say be true we ought to have record of a longer period than five thousand years; did it not appear that the memory of past times is blotted out by a variety of causes, some referable to men, and some to Heaven.

Among the causes which have a human origin are the changes in sects and tongues; because when a new sect, that is to say a new religion, comes up, its first endeavour, in order to give itself reputation, is to efface the old; and should it so happen that the founders of the new religion speak another tongue, this may readily be effected. This we know from observing the methods which Christianity has followed in dealing with the religion of the Gentiles, for we find that it has abolished all the rites and ordinances of that worship, and obliterated every trace of the ancient belief. True, it has not succeeded in utterly blotting out our knowledge of things done by the famous men who held that belief; and this because the propagators of the new faith, retaining the Latin tongue, were constrained to use it in writing the new law; for could they have written this in a new tongue, we may infer, having regard to their other persecutions, that no record whatever would have survived to us of past events. For any one who reads of the methods followed by Saint Gregory and the other heads of the Christian religion, will perceive with what animosity they pursued all ancient memorials; burning the works of poets and historians; breaking images; and destroying whatsoever else afforded any trace of antiquity. So that if to this persecution a new language had been joined, it must soon have been found that everything was forgotten.

We may believe, therefore, that what Christianity has sought to effect against the sect of the Gentiles, was actually effected by that sect against the religion which preceded theirs; and that, from the repeated changes of belief which have taken place in the course of five or six thousand years, the memory of what happened at a remote date has perished, or, if any trace of it remain, has come to be regarded as a fable to which no credit is due; like the Chronicle of Diodorus Siculus, which, professing to give an account of the events of forty or fifty thousand years, is held, and I believe justly, a lying tale.

As for the causes of oblivion which we may refer to Heaven, they are those which make havoc of the human race, and reduce the population of certain parts of the world to a very small number. This happens by plague, famine, or flood, of which three the last is the most hurtful, as well because it is the most universal, as because those saved are generally rude and ignorant mountaineers, who possessing no knowledge of antiquity themselves, can impart none to those who come after them. Or if among the survivors there chance to be one possessed of such knowledge, to give himself consequence and credit, he will conceal and pervert it to suit his private ends, so that to his posterity there will remain only so much as he may have been pleased to communicate, and no more.

That these floods, plagues, and famines do in fact happen, I see no reason to doubt, both because we find all histories full of them, and recognize their effect in this oblivion of the past, and also because it is reasonable that such things should happen. For as when much superfluous matter has gathered in simple bodies, nature makes repeated efforts to remove and purge it away, thereby promoting the health of these bodies, so likewise as regards that composite body the human race, when every province of the world so teems with inhabitants that they can neither subsist where they are nor remove elsewhere, every region being equally crowded and over-peopled, and when human craft and wickedness have reached their highest pitch, it must needs come about that the world will purge herself in one or another of these three ways, to the end that men, becoming few and contrite, may amend their lives and live with more convenience.

Etruria, then, as has been said above, was at one time powerful, abounding in piety and valour, practising her own customs, and speaking her own tongue; but all this was effaced by the power of Rome, so that, as I have observed already, nothing is left of her but the memory of a name.

CHAPTER VI. — Of the Methods followed by the Romans in making War.

Having treated of the methods followed by the Romans for increasing their power, we shall now go on to consider those which they used in making war; and in all they did we shall find how wisely they turned aside from the common path in order to render their progress to supreme greatness easy.

Whosoever makes war, whether from policy or ambition, means to acquire and to hold what he acquires, and to carry on the war he has undertaken in such a manner that it shall enrich and not impoverish his native country and State. It is necessary, therefore, whether for acquiring or holding, to consider how cost may be avoided, and everything done most advantageously for the public welfare. But whoever would effect all this, must take the course and follow the methods of the Romans; which consisted, first of all, in making their wars, as the French say, great and short. For entering the field with strong armies, they brought to a speedy conclusion whatever wars they had with the Latins, the Samnites, or the Etruscans.

And if we take note of all the wars in which they were engaged, from the foundation of their city down to the siege of Veii, all will be seen to have been quickly ended some in twenty, some in ten, and some in no more than six days. And this was their wont: So soon as war was declared they would go forth with their armies to meet the enemy and at once deliver battle. The enemy, on being routed, to save their country from pillage, very soon came to terms, when the Romans would take from them certain portions of their territory. These they either assigned to particular persons, or made the seat of a colony, which being settled on the confines of the conquered country served as a defence to the Roman frontier, to the advantage both of the colonists who had these lands given them, and of the Roman people whose borders were thus guarded at no expense to themselves. And no other system of defence could have been at once so safe, so strong, and so effectual. For while the enemy were not actually in the field, this guard was sufficient; and when they came out in force to overwhelm the colony, the Romans also went forth in strength and gave them battle; and getting the better of them, imposed harder terms than before, and so returned home. And in this way they came gradually to establish their name abroad, and to add to their power.

These methods they continued to employ until they changed their system of warfare, which they did during the siege of Veii; when to enable them to carry on a prolonged war, they passed a law for the payment of their soldiers, whom, up to that time they had not paid, nor needed to pay, because till then their wars had been of brief duration. Nevertheless, while allowing pay to their soldiers that they might thus wage longer wars, and keep their armies longer in the field when employed on distant enterprises, they never departed from their old plan of bringing their campaigns to as speedy an end as place and circumstances allowed, nor ever ceased to plant colonies.

Their custom of terminating their wars with despatch, besides being natural to the Romans, was strengthened by the ambition of their consuls, who, being appointed for twelve months only, six of which they had to spend in the city, were eager to bring their wars to an end as rapidly as they could, that they might enjoy the honours of a triumph. The usage of planting colonies was recommended by the great advantage and convenience which resulted from it. In dealing with the spoils of warfare their practice, no doubt, in a measure changed, so that in this respect they were not afterwards so liberal as they were at first; partly, because liberality did not seem so necessary when their soldiers were in receipt of pay; and, partly, because the spoils themselves being greater than before, they thought by their help so to enrich the public treasury as to be able to carry on their wars without taxing the city; and, in fact, by pursuing this course the public revenues were soon greatly augmented. The methods thus followed by the Romans in dividing plunder and in planting colonies had, accordingly, this result, that whereas other less prudent princes and republics are impoverished by war, Rome was enriched by it; nay, so far was the system carried, that no consul could hope for a triumph unless he brought back with him for the public treasury much gold and silver and spoils of every kind.

By methods such as these, at one time bringing their wars to a rapid conclusion by invasion and actual defeat, at another wearing out an enemy by protracted hostilities, and again by concluding peace on advantageous terms, the Romans continually grew richer and more powerful.

CHAPTER VII. — Of the Quantity of Land assigned by the Romans to each Colonist.

It would, I think, be difficult to fix with certainty how much land the Romans allotted to each colonist, for my belief is that they gave more or less according to the character of the country to which they sent them. We may, however, be sure that in every instance, and to whatever country they were sent, the quantity of land assigned was not very large: first, because, these colonists being sent to guard the newly acquired country, by giving little land it became possible to send more men; and second because, as the Romans lived frugally at home, it is unreasonable to suppose that they should wish their countrymen to be too well off abroad. And Titus Livius tells us that on the capture of Veii, the Romans sent thither a colony, allotting to each colonist three jugera and seven unciae of land, which, according to our measurement would be something under two acres.

Besides the above reasons, the Romans may likely enough have thought that it was not so much the quantity of the land allotted as its careful cultivation that would make it suffice. It is very necessary, however, that every colony should have common pasturage where all may send their cattle to graze, as well as woods where they may cut fuel; for without such conveniences no colony can maintain itself.

CHAPTER VIII. — Why certain Nations leave their ancestral Seats and overflow the Countries of others.

Having spoken above of the methods followed by the Romans in making war, and related how the Etruscans were attacked by the Gauls, it seems to me not foreign to these topics to explain that of wars there are two kinds. One kind of war has its origin in the ambition of princes or republics who seek to extend their dominions. Such were the wars waged by Alexander the Great, and by the Romans, and such are those which we see every day carried on by one potentate against another. Wars of this sort have their dangers, but do not utterly extirpate the inhabitants of a country; what the conqueror seeks being merely the submission of the conquered people, whom, generally speaking, he suffers to retain their laws, and always their houses and goods.

The other species of war is when an entire people, with all the families of which it is made up, being driven out by famine or defeat, removes from its former seat, and goes in search of a new abode and a new country, not simply with the view to establish dominion over it, but to possess it as its own, and to expel or exterminate the former inhabitants. Of this most terrible and cruel species of warfare Sallust speaks at the end of his history of the war with Jugurtha, where in mentioning that after the defeat of Jugurtha the movement of the Gauls into Italy began to be noticed, he observes that “in the wars of the Romans with other nations the struggle was for mastery; but that always in their wars with the Gauls the struggle on both sides was for life.” For a prince or commonwealth, when attacking another State, will be content to rid themselves of those only who are at the head of affairs; but an entire people, set in motion in the manner described, must destroy all who oppose them, since their object is to subsist on that whereon those whom they invade have hitherto subsisted.

The Romans had to pass through three of these desperate wars; the first being that in which their city was actually captured by those Gauls who, as already mentioned, had previously taken Lombardy from the Etruscans and made it their seat, and for whose invasion Titus Livius has assigned two causes. First, that they were attracted, as I have said before, by the fruitful soil and by the wine of Italy which they had not in Gaul; second, that their population having multiplied so greatly that they could no longer find wherewithal to live on at home, the princes of their land decided that certain of their number should go forth to seek a new abode; and so deciding, chose as leaders of those who were to go, two Gaulish chiefs, Bellovesus and Siccovesus; the former of whom came into Italy while the latter passed into Spain. From the immigration under Bellovesus resulted the occupation of Lombardy, and, subsequently, the first war of the Gauls with Rome. At a later date, and after the close of the first war with Carthage, came the second Gallic invasion, when more than two hundred thousand Gauls perished in battle between Piombino and Pisa. The third of these wars broke out on the descent into Italy of the Todi and Cimbri, who, after defeating several Roman armies, were themselves defeated by Marius.

In these three most dangerous contests the arms of Rome prevailed; but no ordinary valour was needed for their success. For we see afterwards, when the spirit of the Romans had declined, and their armies had lost their former excellence, their supremacy was overthrown by men of the same race, that is to say by the Goths, the Vandals, and others like them, who spread themselves over the whole of the Western Empire.

Nations such as these, quit, as I have said, their native land, when forced by famine, or by defeat in domestic wars, to seek a new habitation elsewhere. When those thus driven forth are in large numbers, they violently invade the territories of other nations, slaughtering the inhabitants, seizing on their possessions, founding new kingdoms, and giving new names to provinces; as was done by Moses, and by those tribes who overran the Roman Empire. For the new names which we find in Italy and elsewhere, have no other origin than in their having been given by these new occupants; as when the countries formerly known as Gallia Cisalpina and Gallia Transalpina took the names of Lombardy and France, from the Lombards and the Franks who settled themselves there. In the same way Sclavonia was formerly known as Illyria, Hungary as Pannonia, and England as Britain; while many other provinces which it would be tedious to enumerate, have similarly changed their designations; as when the name Judæa was given by Moses to that part of Syria of which he took possession.

And since I have said above that nations such as those I have been describing, are often driven by wars from their ancestral homes, and forced to seek a new country elsewhere, I shall cite the instance of the Maurusians, a people who anciently dwelt in Syria, but hearing of the inroad of the Hebrews, and thinking themselves unable to resist them, chose rather to seek safety in flight than to perish with their country in a vain effort to defend it. For which reason, removing with their families, they went to Africa, where, after driving out the native inhabitants, they took up their abode; and although they could not defend their own country, were able to possess themselves of a country belonging to others. And Procopius, who writes the history of the war which Belisarius conducted against those Vandals who seized on Africa, relates, that on certain pillars standing in places where the Maurusians once dwelt, he had read inscriptions in these words: “We Maurusians who fled before Joshua, the robber, the son of Nun;” giving us to know the cause of their quitting Syria. Be this as it may, nations thus driven forth by a supreme necessity, are, if they be in great number, in the highest degree dangerous, and cannot be successfully withstood except by a people who excel in arms.

When those constrained to abandon their homes are not in large numbers, they are not so dangerous as the nations of whom I have been speaking, since they cannot use the same violence, but must trust to their address to procure them a habitation; and, after procuring it, must live with their neighbours as friends and companions, as we find Æneas, Dido, the Massilians, and others like them to have lived; all of whom contrived to maintain themselves in the districts in which they settled, by securing the good will of the neighbouring nations.

Almost all the great emigrations of nations have been and continue to be from the cold and barren region of Scythia, because from the population there being excessive, and the soil ill able to support them, they are forced to quit their home, many causes operating to drive them forth and none to keep them back. And if, for the last five hundred years, it has not happened that any of these nations has actually overrun another country, there are various reasons to account for it. First, the great clearance which that region made of its inhabitants during the decline of the Roman Empire, when more than thirty nations issued from it in succession; and next, the circumstance that the countries of Germany and Hungary, whence also these nations came, are now so much improved that men can live there in comfort, and consequently are not constrained to shift their habitations. Besides which, since these countries are occupied by a very warlike race, they serve as a sort of bulwark to keep back the neighbouring Scythians, who for this reason do not venture to attack them, nor attempt to force a passage. Nevertheless, movements on a great scale have oftentimes been begun by the Tartars, and been at once withstood by the Hungarians and Poles, whose frequent boast it is, that but for them, Italy and the Church would more than once have felt the weight of the Tartar arms.

Of the nations of whom I have been speaking, I shall now say no more.

CHAPTER IX. — Of the Causes which commonly give rise to Wars between States.

The occasion which led to war between the Romans and Samnites, who for long had been in league with one another, is of common occurrence in all powerful States, being either brought about by accident, or else purposely contrived by some one who would set war a-foot. As between the Romans and the Samnites, the occasion of war was accidental. For in making war upon the Sidicinians and afterwards on the Campanians, the Samnites had no thought of involving themselves with the Romans. But the Campanians being overpowered, and, contrary to the expectation of Romans and Samnites alike, resorting to Rome for aid, the Romans, on whose protection they threw themselves, were forced to succour them as dependants, and to accept a war which, it seemed to them, they could not with honour decline. For though they might have thought it unreasonable to be called on to defend the Campanians as friends against their own friends the Samnites, it seemed to them shameful not to defend them as subjects, or as a people who had placed themselves under their protection. For they reasoned that to decline their defence would close the gate against all others who at any future time might desire to submit themselves to their power. And, accordingly, since glory and empire, and not peace, were the ends which they always had in view, it became impossible for them to refuse this protectorship.

A similar circumstance gave rise to the first war with the Carthaginians, namely the protectorate assumed by the Romans of the citizens of Messina in Sicily, and this likewise came about by chance. But the second war with Carthage was not the result of chance. For Hannibal the Carthaginian general attacked the Saguntans, who were the friends of Rome in Spain, not from any desire to injure them, but in order to set the arms of Rome in motion, and so gain an opportunity of engaging the Romans in a war, and passing on into Italy. This method of picking a quarrel is constantly resorted to by powerful States when they are bound by scruples of honour or like considerations. For if I desire to make war on a prince with whom I am under an ancient and binding treaty, I shall find some colour or pretext for attacking the friend of that prince, very well knowing that when I attack his friend, either the prince will resent it, when my scheme for engaging him in war will be realized; or that, should he not resent it, his weakness or baseness in not defending one who is under his protection will be made apparent; either of which alternatives will discredit him, and further my designs.

We are to note, therefore, in connection with this submission of the Campanians, what has just now been said as to provoking another power to war; and also the remedy open to a State which, being unequal to its own defence, is prepared to go all lengths to ruin its assailant, — that remedy being to give itself up unreservedly to some one whom it selects for its defender; as the Campanians gave themselves up to the Romans, and as the Florentines gave themselves up to King Robert of Naples, who, after refusing to defend them as his friends against Castruccio of Lucca by whom they were hard pressed, defended them as his subjects.

CHAPTER X. — That contrary to the vulgar opinion, Money is not the Sinews of War.

Since any man may begin a war at his pleasure, but cannot at his pleasure bring it to a close, a prince before he engages in any warlike enterprise ought to measure his strength and govern himself accordingly. But he must be prudent enough not to deceive himself as to his strength, which he will always do, if he measure it by money, by advantage of position, or by the good-will of his subjects, while he is unprovided with an army of his own. These are things which may swell your strength but do not constitute it, being in themselves null and of no avail without an army on which you can depend.

Without such an army no amount of money will meet your wants, the natural strength of your country will not protect you, and the fidelity and attachment of your subjects will not endure, since it is impossible that they should continue true to you when you cannot defend them. Lakes, and mountains, and the most inaccessible strongholds, where valiant defenders are wanting, become no better than the level plain; and money, so far from being a safeguard, is more likely to leave you a prey to your enemy; since nothing can be falser than the vulgar opinion which affirms it to be the sinews of war.

This opinion is put forward by Quintus Curtius, where, in speaking of the war between Antipater the Macedonian and the King of Sparta, he relates that the latter, from want of money, was constrained to give battle and was defeated; whereas, could he have put off fighting for a few days the news of Alexander’s death would have reached Greece, and he might have had a victory without a battle. But lacking money, and fearing that on that account his soldiers might desert him, he was forced to hazard an engagement. It was for this reason that Quintus Curtius declared money to be the sinews of war, a maxim every day cited and acted upon by princes less wise than they should be. For building upon this, they think it enough for their defence to have laid up great treasures; not reflecting that were great treasures all that is needed for victory, Darius of old had conquered Alexander, the Greeks the Romans, and in our own times Charles of Burgundy the Swiss; while the pope and the Florentines together would have had little difficulty in defeating Francesco Maria, nephew of Pope Julius II., in the recent war of Urbino; and yet, in every one of these instances, the victory remained with him who held the sinews of war to consist, not in money, but in good soldiers.

Croesus, king of Lydia, after showing Solon the Athenian much besides, at last displayed to him the boundless riches of his treasure-house, and asked him what he thought of his power. Whereupon Solon answered that he thought him no whit more powerful in respect of these treasures, for as war is made with iron and not with gold, another coming with more iron might carry off his gold. After the death of Alexander the Great a tribe of Gauls, passing through Greece on their way into Asia, sent envoys to the King of Macedonia to treat for terms of accord; when the king, to dismay them by a display of his resources, showed them great store of gold and silver. But these barbarians, when they saw all this wealth, in their greed to possess it, though before they had looked on peace as settled, broke off negotiations; and thus the king was ruined by those very treasures he had amassed for his defence. In like manner, not many years ago, the Venetians, with a full treasury, lost their whole dominions without deriving the least advantage from their wealth.

I maintain, therefore, that it is not gold, as is vulgarly supposed, that is the sinews of war, but good soldiers; or while gold by itself will not gain you good soldiers, good soldiers may readily get you gold. Had the Romans chosen to make war with gold rather than with iron all the treasures of the earth would not have sufficed them having regard to the greatness of their enterprises and the difficulties they had to overcome in carrying them out. But making their wars with iron they never felt any want of gold; for those who stood in fear of them brought gold into their camp.

And supposing it true that the Spartan king was forced by lack of money to risk the chances of a battle, it only fared with him in respect of money as it has often fared with others from other causes; since we see that where an army is in such straits for want of victual that it must either fight or perish by famine, it will always fight, as being the more honourable course and that on which fortune may in some way smile. So, too, it has often happened that a captain, seeing his enemy about to be reinforced, has been obliged either to trust to fortune and at once deliver battle, or else, waiting till the reinforcement is complete, to fight then, whether he will or no, and at whatever disadvantage. We find also, as in the case of Hasdrubal when beset, in the March of Ancona, at once by Claudius Nero and by the other Roman consul, that a captain, when he must either fight or fly, will always fight, since it will seem to him that by this course, however hazardous, he has at least a chance of victory, while by the other his ruin is certain.

There are many circumstances, therefore, which may force a captain to give battle contrary to his intention, among which the want of money may sometimes be one. But this is no ground for pronouncing money to be the sinews of war, any more than those other things from the want of which men are reduced to the same necessity. Once more, therefore, I repeat that not gold but good soldiers constitute the sinews of war. Money, indeed, is most necessary in a secondary place; but this necessity good soldiers will always be able to supply, since it is as impossible that good soldiers should lack money, as that money by itself should secure good soldiers. And that what I say is true is shown by countless passages in history. When Pericles persuaded the Athenians to declare war against the whole Peloponnesus, assuring them that their dexterity, aided by their wealth, was sure to bring them off victorious, the Athenians, though for a while they prospered in this war, in the end were overpowered, the prudent counsels and good soldiers of Sparta proving more than a match for the dexterity and wealth of Athens. But, indeed, there can be no better witness to the truth of my contention than Titus Livius himself. For in that passage of his history wherein he discusses whether if Alexander the Great had invaded Italy, he would have succeeded in vanquishing the Romans, three things are noted by him as essential to success in war; to wit, many and good soldiers, prudent captains, and favourable fortune; and after examining whether the Romans or Alexander would have had the advantage in each of these three particulars, he arrives at his conclusion without any mention of money.

The Campanians, therefore, when asked by the Sidicinians to arm in their behalf, must have measured their strength by wealth and not by soldiers; for after declaring in their favour and suffering two defeats, to save themselves they were obliged to become tributary to Rome.

CHAPTER XI. — That it were unwise to ally yourself a Prince who has Reputation rather than Strength.

To mark the mistake made by the Sidicinians in trusting to the protection of the Campanians, and by the Campanians in supposing themselves able to protect the Sidicinians, Titus Livius could not have expressed himself in apter words than by saying, that “the Campanians rather lent their name to the Sidicinians than furnished any substantial aid towards their defence.”

Here we have to note that alliances with princes who from dwelling at a distance have no facility, or who from their own embarrassments, or from other causes, have no ability to render aid, afford rather reputation than protection to those who put their trust in them. As was the case in our own times with the Florentines, when, in the year 1479, they were attacked by the Pope and the King of Naples. For being friends of the French king they drew from that friendship more reputation than help. The same would be the case with that prince who should engage in any enterprise in reliance on the Emperor Maximilian, his being one of those friendships which, in the words of our historian, nomen magis quam praesidium adferunt.

On this occasion, therefore, the Campanians were misled by imagining themselves stronger than they really were. For often, from defect of judgment, men take upon them to defend others, when they have neither skill nor ability to defend themselves. Of which we have a further instance in the Tarentines, who, when the Roman and Samnite armies were already drawn up against one another for battle, sent messengers to the Roman consul to acquaint him that they desired peace between the two nations, and would themselves declare war against whichsoever of the two first began hostilities. The consul, laughing at their threats, in the presence of the messengers, ordered the signal for battle to sound, and bade his army advance to meet the enemy; showing the Tarentines by acts rather than words what answer he thought their message deserved.

Having spoken in the present Chapter of unwise courses followed by princes for defending others, I shall speak in the next, of the methods they follow in defending themselves.

CHAPTER XII. — Whether when Invasion is imminent it is better to anticipate or to await it.

I have often heard it disputed by men well versed in military affairs, whether, when there are two princes of nearly equal strength, and the bolder of the two proclaims war upon the other, it is better for that other to await attack within his own frontier, or to march into the enemy’s country and fight him there; and I have heard reasons given in favour of each of these courses.

They who maintain that an enemy should be attacked in his own country, cite the advice given by Croesus to Cyrus, when the latter had come to the frontiers of the Massagetæ to make war on that people. For word being sent by Tomyris their queen that Cyrus might, at his pleasure, either enter her dominions, where she would await him, or else allow her to come and meet him; and the matter being debated, Croesus, contrary to the opinion of other advisers, counselled Cyrus to go forward and meet the queen, urging that were he to defeat her at a distance from her kingdom, he might not be able to take it from her, since she would have time to repair her strength; whereas, were he to defeat her within her own dominions, he could follow her up on her flight, and, without giving her time to recover herself, deprive her of her State. They cite also the advice given by Hannibal to Antiochus, when the latter was meditating a war on the Romans. For Hannibal told him that the Romans could not be vanquished except in Italy, where an invader might turn to account the arms and resources of their friends, whereas any one making war upon them out of Italy, and leaving that country in their hands, would leave them an unfailing source whence to draw whatever reinforcement they might need; and finally, he told him, that the Romans might more easily be deprived of Rome than of their empire, and of Italy more easily than of any of their other provinces. They likewise instance Agathocles, who, being unequal to support a war at home, invaded the Carthaginians, by whom he was being attacked, and reduced them to sue for peace. They also cite Scipio, who to shift the war from Italy, carried it into Africa.

Those who hold a contrary opinion contend that to have your enemy at a disadvantage you must get him away from his home, alleging the case of the Athenians, who while they carried on the war at their convenience in their own territory, retained their superiority; but when they quitted that territory, and went with their armies to Sicily, lost their freedom. They cite also the fable of the poets wherein it is figured that Antæus, king of Libya, being assailed by the Egyptian Hercules, could not be overcome while he awaited his adversary within the bounds of his own kingdom; but so soon as he was withdrawn from these by the craft of Hercules, lost his kingdom and his life. Whence the fable runs that Antæus, being son to the goddess Earth, when thrown to the ground drew fresh strength from the Earth, his mother; and that Hercules, perceiving this, held him up away from the Earth.

Recent opinions are likewise cited as favouring this view. Every one knows how Ferrando, king of Naples, was in his day accounted a most wise prince; and how two years before his death there came a rumour that Charles VIII of France was meditating an attack upon him; and how, after making great preparations for his defence, he sickened; and being on the point of death, among other counsels left his son Alfonso this advice, that nothing in the world should tempt him to pass out of his own territory, but to await the enemy within his frontier, and with his forces unimpaired; a warning disregarded by Alfonso, who sent into Romagna an army, which he lost, and with it his whole dominions, without a battle.

Other arguments on both sides of the question in addition to those already noticed, are as follows: He who attacks shows higher courage than he who stands on his defence, and this gives his army greater confidence. Moreover, by attacking your enemy you deprive him of many opportunities for using his resources, since he can receive no aid from subjects who have been stripped of their possessions; and when an enemy is at his gates, a prince must be careful how he levies money and imposes taxes; so that, as Hannibal said, the springs which enable a country to support a war come to be dried up. Again, the soldiers of an invader, finding themselves in a foreign land, are under a stronger necessity to fight, and necessity, as has often been said, is the parent of valour.

On the other hand, it may be argued that there are many advantages to be gained by awaiting the attack of your enemy. For without putting yourself much about, you may harass him by intercepting his supplies, whether of victual or of whatsoever else an army stands in need: from your better knowledge of the country you can impede his movements; and because men muster more willingly to defend their homes than to go on distant expeditions, you can meet him with more numerous forces, if defeated you can more easily repair your strength, because the bulk of your army, finding shelter at hand, will be able to save itself, and your reserves will have no distance to come. In this way you can use your whole strength without risking your entire fortunes; whereas, in leaving your country, you risk your entire fortunes, without putting forth your whole strength. Nay, we find that to weaken an adversary still further, some have suffered him to make a march of several days into their country, and then to capture certain of their towns, that by leaving garrisons in these, he might reduce the numbers of his army, and so be attacked at greater disadvantage.

But now to speak my own mind on the matter, I think we should make this distinction. Either you have your country strongly defended, as the Romans had and the Swiss have theirs, or, like the Carthaginians of old and the King of France and the Italians at the present day, you have it undefended. In the latter case you must keep the enemy at a distance from your country, for as your strength lies not in men but in money, whenever the supply of money is cut off you are undone, and nothing so soon cuts off this supply as a war of invasion. Of which we have example in the Carthaginians, who, while their country was free from invasion, were able by means of their great revenues to carry on war in Italy against the Romans, but when they were invaded could not defend themselves even against Agathocles. The Florentines, in like manner, could make no head against Castruccio, lord of Lucca, when he attacked them in their own country; and to obtain protection, were compelled to yield themselves up to King Robert of Naples. And yet, after Castruccio’s death, these same Florentines were bold enough to attack the Duke of Milan in his own country, and strong enough to strip him of his dominions. Such valour did they display in distant wars, such weakness in those that were near.

But when a country is armed as Rome was and Switzerland now is, the closer you press it, the harder it is to subdue; because such States can assemble a stronger force to resist attack than for attacking others. Nor does the great authority of Hannibal move me in this instance, since resentment and his own advantage might lead him to speak as he spoke to Antiochus. For had the Romans suffered in Gaul, and within the same space of time, those three defeats at the hands of Hannibal which they suffered in Italy, it must have made an end of them; since they could not have turned the remnants of their armies to account as they did in Italy, not having the same opportunity for repairing their strength; nor could they have met their enemy with such numerous armies. For we never find them sending forth a force of more than fifty thousand men for the invasion of any province; whereas, in defending their own country against the inroad of the Gauls at the end of the first Carthaginian war, we hear of them bringing some eighteen hundred thousand men into the field; and their failure to vanquish the Gauls in Lombardy as they had vanquished those in Tuscany arose from their inability to lead a great force so far against a numerous enemy, or to encounter him with the same advantages. In Germany the Cimbrians routed a Roman army who had there no means to repair their disaster; but when they came into Italy, the Romans could collect their whole strength, and destroy them. Out of their native country, whence they can bring no more than thirty or forty thousand men, the Swiss may readily be defeated; but in their own country, where they can assemble a hundred thousand, they are well-nigh invincible.

In conclusion, therefore, I repeat that the prince who has his people armed and trained for war, should always await a great and dangerous war at home, and never go forth to meet it. But that he whose subjects are unarmed, and whose country is not habituated to war, should always carry the war to as great a distance as he can from home. For in this way each will defend himself in the best manner his means admit.

CHAPTER XIII. — That Men rise from humble to high Fortunes rather by Fraud than by Force.

I hold it as most certain that men seldom if ever rise to great place from small beginnings without using fraud or force, unless, indeed, they be given, or take by inheritance the place to which some other has already come. Force, however, will never suffice by itself to effect this end, while fraud often will, as any one may plainly see who reads the lives of Philip of Macedon, Agathocles of Sicily, and many others like them, who from the lowest or, at any rate, from very low beginnings, rose either to sovereignty or to the highest command.

This necessity for using deceit is taught by Xenophon in his life of Cyrus; for the very first expedition on which Cyrus is sent, against the King of Armenia, is seen to teem with fraud; and it is by fraud, and not by force, that he is represented as having acquired his kingdom; so that the only inference to be drawn from his conduct, as Xenophon describes it, is, that the prince who would accomplish great things must have learned how to deceive. Xenophon, moreover, represents his hero as deceiving his maternal grandsire Cyaxares, king of the Medians, in a variety of ways; giving it to be understood that without such deceit he could not have reached the greatness to which he came. Nor do I believe that any man born to humble fortunes can be shown to have attained great station, by sheer and open force, whereas this has often been effected by mere fraud, such as that used by Giovanni Galeazzo to deprive his uncle Bernabo of the State and government of Lombardy.

The same arts which princes are constrained to use at the outset of their career, must also be used by commonwealths, until they have grown powerful enough to dispense with them and trust to strength alone. And because Rome at all times, whether from chance or choice, followed all such methods as are necessary to attain greatness, in this also she was not behindhand. And, to begin with, she could have used no greater fraud than was involved in her method above noticed, of making for herself companions; since under this name she made for herself subjects, for such the Latins and the other surrounding nations, in fact, became. For availing herself at first of their arms to subdue neighbouring countries and gain herself reputation as a State, her power was so much increased by these conquests that there was none whom she could not overcome. But the Latins never knew that they were enslaved until they saw the Samnites twice routed and forced to make terms. This success, while it added greatly to the fame of the Romans among princes at a distance, who were thereby made familiar with the Roman name though not with the Roman arms, bred at the same time jealousy and distrust among those who, like the Latins, both saw and felt these arms; and such were the effects of this jealousy and distrust, that not the Latins only but all the Roman colonies in Latium, along with the Campanians whom a little while before the Romans had defended leagued themselves together against the authority of Rome. This war was set on foot by the Latins in the manner in which, as I have already explained, most wars are begun, not by directly attacking the Romans, but by defending the Sidicinians against the Samnites who were making war upon them with the permission of the Romans. And that it was from their having found out the crafty policy of the Romans that the Latins were led to take this step, is plain from the words which Titus Livius puts in the mouth of Annius Setinus the Latin prætor, who, in addressing the Latin council, is made to say, “For if even now we can put up with slavery under the disguise of an equal alliance, etc”

We see, therefore, that the Romans, from the time they first began to extend their power, were not unfamiliar with the art of deceiving, an art always necessary for those who would mount to great heights from low beginnings; and which is the less to be condemned when, as in the case of the Romans, it is skilfully concealed.

CHAPTER XIV. — That Men often err in thinking they can subdue Pride by Humility.

You shall often find that humility is not merely of no service to you, but is even hurtful, especially when used in dealing with insolent men, who, through envy or other like cause, have conceived hatred against you. Proof whereof is supplied by our historian where he explains the causes of this war between the Romans and the Latins. For on the Samnites complaining to the Romans that the Latins had attacked them, the Romans, desiring not to give the Latins ground of offence, would not forbid them proceeding with the war. But the endeavour to avoid giving offence to the Latins only served to increase their confidence, and led them the sooner to declare their hostility. Of which we have evidence in the language used by the same Latin Prætor, Annius Setinus, at the aforesaid council, when he said:— “You have tried their patience by refusing them, soldiers. Who doubts but that they are offended? Still they have put up with the affront. They have heard that we are assembling an army against their allies the Samnites; and yet they have not stirred from their city. Whence this astonishing forbearance, but from their knowing our strength and their own weakness?” Which words give us clearly to understand how much the patience of the Romans increased the arrogance of the Latins.

A prince, therefore, should never stoop from his dignity, nor should he if he would have credit for any concession make it voluntarily, unless he be able or believe himself able to withhold it. For almost always when matters have come to such a pass that you cannot give way with credit it is better that a thing be taken from you by force than yielded through fear of force. For if you yield through fear and to escape war, the chances are that you do not escape it; since he to whom, out of manifest cowardice you make this concession, will not rest content, but will endeavour to wring further concessions from you, and making less account of you, will only be the more kindled against you. At the same time you will find your friends less zealous on your behalf, since to them you will appear either weak or cowardly. But if, so soon as the designs of your enemy are disclosed, you at once prepare to resist though your strength be inferior to his, he will begin to think more of you, other neighbouring princes will think more; and many will be willing to assist you, on seeing you take up arms, who, had you relinquished hope and abandoned yourself to despair, would never have stirred a finger to save you.

The above is to be understood as applying where you have a single adversary only; but should you have several, it will always be a prudent course, even after war has been declared, to restore to some one of their number something you have of his, so as to regain his friendship and detach him from the others who have leagued themselves against you.

CHAPTER XV. — That weak States are always dubious in their Resolves; and that tardy Resolves are always hurtful.

Touching this very matter, and with regard to these earliest beginnings of war between the Latins and the Romans, it may be noted, that in all our deliberations it behoves us to come quickly to a definite resolve, and not to remain always in dubiety and suspense. This is plainly seen in connection with the council convened by the Latins when they thought to separate themselves from the Romans. For the Romans suspecting the hostile humour wherewith the Latins were infected, in order to learn how things really stood, and see whether they could not win back the malcontents without recourse to arms, gave them to know that they must send eight of their citizens to Rome, as they had occasion to consult with them. On receiving which message the Latins, knowing that they had done many things contrary to the wishes of the Romans, called a council to determine who of their number should be sent, and to instruct them what they were to say. But Annius, their prætor, being present in the council when these matters were being discussed, told them “that he thought it of far greater moment for them to consider what they were to do than what they were to say; for when their resolves were formed, it would be easy to clothe them in fit words.” This, in truth, was sound advice and such as every prince and republic should lay to heart. Because, where there is doubt and uncertainty as to what we may decide on doing, we know not how to suit our words to our conduct; whereas, with our minds made up, and the course we are to follow fixed, it is an easy matter to find words to declare our resolves. I have noticed this point the more readily, because I have often found such uncertainty hinder the public business of our own republic, to its detriment and discredit. And in all matters of difficulty, wherein courage is needed for resolving, this uncertainty will always be met with, whenever those who have to deliberate and decide are weak.

Not less mischievous than doubtful resolves are those which are late and tardy, especially when they have to be made in behalf of a friend. For from their lateness they help none, and hurt ourselves. Tardy resolves are due to want of spirit or want of strength, or to the perversity of those who have to determine, who being moved by a secret desire to overthrow the government, or to carry out some selfish purpose of their own, suffer no decision to be come to, but only thwart and hinder. Whereas, good citizens, even when they see the popular mind to be bent on dangerous courses, will never oppose the adoption of a fixed plan, more particularly in matters which do not brook delay.

After Hieronymus, the Syracusan tyrant, was put to death, there being at that time a great war between the Romans and the Carthaginians, the citizens of Syracuse fell to disputing among themselves with which nation they should take part; and so fierce grew the controversy between the partisans of the two alliances, that no course could be agreed on, and they took part with neither; until Apollonides, one of the foremost of the Syracusan citizens, told them in a speech replete with wisdom, that neither those who inclined to hold by the Romans, nor those who chose rather to side with the Carthaginians, were deserving of blame; but that what was utterly to be condemned was doubt and delay in taking one side or other; for from such uncertainty he clearly foresaw the ruin of their republic; whereas, by taking a decided course, whatever it might be, some good might come. Now Titus Livius could not show more clearly than he does in this passage, the mischief which results from resting in suspense. He shows it, likewise, in the case of the Lavinians, of whom he relates, that being urged by the Latins to aid them against Rome, they were so long in making up their minds, that when the army which they at last sent to succour the Latins was issuing from their gates, word came that the Latins were defeated. Whereupon Millionius, their prætor, said, “With the Romans this short march will cost us dear.” But had the Lavinians resolved at once either to grant aid or to refuse it, taking a latter course they would not have given offence to the Romans, taking the former, and rendering timely help, they and the Latins together might have had a victory. But by delay they stood to lose in every way, as the event showed.

This example, had it been remembered by the Florentines, might have saved them from all that loss and vexation which they underwent at the hands of the French, at the time King Louis XII. of France came into Italy against Lodovico, duke of Milan. For when Louis first proposed to pass through Tuscany he met with no objection from the Florentines, whose envoys at his court arranged with him that they should stand neutral, while the king, on his arrival in Italy, was to maintain their government and take them under his protection; a month’s time being allowed the republic to ratify these terms. But certain persons, who, in their folly, favoured the cause of Lodovico, delayed this ratification until the king was already on the eve of victory; when the Florentines suddenly becoming eager to ratify, the king would not accept their ratification, perceiving their consent to be given under constraint and not of their own good-will. This cost the city of Florence dear, and went near to lose her freedom, whereof she was afterwards deprived on another like occasion. And the course taken by the Florentines was the more to be blamed in that it was of no sort of service to Duke Lodovico, who, had he been victorious, would have shown the Florentines many more signs of his displeasure than did the king.

Although the hurt which results to republics from weakness of this sort has already been discussed in another Chapter, nevertheless, since an opportunity offered for touching upon it again, I have willingly availed myself of it, because to me it seems a matter of which republics like ours should take special heed.

CHAPTER XVI. — That the Soldiers of our days depart widely from the methods of ancient Warfare.

In all their wars with other nations, the most momentous battle ever fought by the Romans, was that which they fought with the Latins when Torquatus and Decius were consuls. For it may well be believed that as by the loss of that battle the Latins became subject to the Romans, so the Romans had they not prevailed must have become subject to the Latins. And Titus Livius is of this opinion, since he represents the armies as exactly equal in every respect, in discipline and in valour, in numbers and in obstinacy, the only difference he draws being, that of the two armies the Romans had the more capable commanders. We find, however, two circumstances occurring in the conduct of this battle, the like of which never happened before, and seldom since, namely, that to give steadiness to the minds of their soldiers, and render them obedient to the word of command and resolute to fight, one of the consuls put himself, and the other his son, to death.

The equality which Titus Livius declares to have prevailed in these two armies, arose from this, that having long served together they used the same language, discipline, and arms; that in disposing their men for battle they followed the same system; and that the divisions and officers of their armies bore the same names. It was necessary, therefore, that as they were of equal strength and valour, something extraordinary should take place to render the courage of the one army more stubborn and unflinching than that of the other, it being on this stubbornness, as I have already said, that victory depends. For while this temper is maintained in the minds of the combatants they will never turn their backs on their foe. And that it might endure longer in the minds of the Romans than of the Latins, partly chance, and partly the valour of the consuls caused it to fall out that Torquatus slew his son, and Decius died by his own hand.

In pointing out this equality of strength, Titus Livius takes occasion to explain the whole system followed by the Romans in the ordering of their armies and in disposing them for battle; and as he has treated the subject at length, I need not go over the same ground, and shall touch only on what I judge in it most to deserve attention, but, being overlooked by all the captains of our times, has led to disorder in many armies and in many battles.

From this passage of Titus Livius, then, we learn that the Roman army had three principal divisions, or battalions as we might now call them, of which they named the first hastati, the second principes, and the third triarii, to each of which cavalry were attached. In arraying an army for battle they set the hastati in front. Directly behind them, in the second rank, they placed the principes; and in the third rank of the same column, the triarii. The cavalry of each of these three divisions they disposed to the right and left of the division to which it belonged; and to these companies of horse, from their form and position, they gave the name wings (alæ), from their appearing like the two wings of the main body of the army. The first division, the hastati, which was in front, they drew up in close order to enable it to withstand and repulse the enemy. The second division, the principes, since it was not to be engaged from the beginning, but was meant to succour the first in case that were driven in, was not formed in close order but kept in open file, so that it might receive the other into its ranks whenever it was broken and forced to retire. The third division, that, namely, of the triarii, had its ranks still more open than those of the second, so that, if occasion required, it might receive the first two divisions of the hastati and principes. These divisions, therefore, being drawn up in this order, the engagement began, and if the hastati were overpowered and driven back, they retired within the loose ranks of the principes, when both these divisions, being thus united into one, renewed the conflict. If these, again, were routed and forced back, they retreated within the open ranks of the triarii, and all three divisions, forming into one, once more renewed the fight, in which, if they were overpowered, since they had no further means of recruiting their strength, they lost the battle. And because whenever this last division, of the triarii, had to be employed, the army was in jeopardy, there arose the proverb, “Res redacta est ad triarios,” equivalent to our expression of playing a last stake.

The captains of our day, as they have abandoned all the other customs of antiquity, and pay no heed to any part of the ancient discipline, so also have discarded this method of disposing their men, though it was one of no small utility. For to insure the defeat of a commander who so arranges his forces as to be able thrice during an engagement to renew his strength, Fortune must thrice declare against him, and he must be matched with an adversary able three times over to defeat him; whereas he whose sole chance of success lies in his surviving the first onset, as is the case with all the armies of Christendom at the present day, may easily be vanquished, since any slight mishap, and the least failure in the steadiness of his men, may deprive him of victory.

And what takes from our armies the capacity to renew their strength is, that provision is now no longer made for one division being received into the ranks of another, which happens because at present an army is arranged for battle in one or other of two imperfect methods. For either its divisions are placed side by side, so as to form a line of great width but of no depth or solidity; or if, to strengthen it, it be drawn up in columns after the fashion of the Roman armies, should the front line be broken, no provision having been made for its being received by the second, it is thrown into complete disorder, and both divisions fall to pieces. For if the front line be driven back, it jostles the second, if the second line endeavour to advance, the first stands in its way: and thus, the first driving against the second, and the second against the third, such confusion follows that often the most trifling accident will cause the ruin of an entire army.

At the battle of Ravenna, where M. de Foix, the French commander, was slain, although according to modern notions this was a well-fought field, both the French and the Spanish armies were drawn up in the first of the faulty methods above described; that is to say, each army advanced with the whole of its battalions side by side, so that each presented a single front much wider than deep; this being always the plan followed by modern armies when, as at Ravenna, the ground is open. For knowing the disorder they fall into on retreat, forming themselves in a single line, they endeavour, as I have said, as much as possible to escape confusion by extending their front. But where the ground confines them they fall at once into the disorder spoken of, without an effort to prevent it.

Troops traversing an enemy’s country, whether to pillage or carry out any other operation of war, are liable to fall into the same disorder; and at S. Regolo in the Pisan territory, and at other places where the Florentines were beaten by the Pisans during the war which followed on the revolt of Pisa after the coming of Charles of France into Italy, our defeat was due to no other cause than the behaviour of our own cavalry, who being posted in front, and being repulsed by the enemy, fell back on the infantry and threw them into confusion, whereupon the whole army took to flight; and Messer Ciriaco del Borgo, the veteran leader of the Florentine foot, has often declared in my presence that he had never been routed by any cavalry save those who were fighting on his side. For which reason the Swiss, who are the greatest proficients in modern warfare, when serving with the French, make it their first care to place themselves on their flank, so that the cavalry of their friends, if repulsed, may not throw them into disorder.

But although these matters seem easy to understand and not difficult to put in practice, none has yet been found among the commanders of our times, who attempted to imitate the ancients or to correct the moderns. For although these also have a tripartite division of their armies into van-guard, main-body, and rear-guard, the only use they make of it is in giving orders when their men are in quarters; whereas on active service it rarely happens that all divisions are not equally exposed to the same onset.

And because many, to excuse their ignorance, will have it that the destructive fire of artillery forbids our employing at the present day many of the tactics used by the ancients, I will discuss this question in the following Chapter, and examine whether artillery does in fact prevent us from using the valiant methods of antiquity.

CHAPTER XVII. — What importance the Armies of the present day should allow to Artillery; and whether the commonly received opinion concerning it be just.

Looking to the number of pitched battles, or what are termed by the French journées, and by the Italians fatti d’arme, fought by the Romans at divers times, I am led further to examine the generally received opinion, that had artillery been in use in their day, the Romans would not have been allowed, or at least not with the same ease, to subjugate provinces and make other nations their tributaries, and could never have spread their power in the astonishing way they did. For it is said that by reason of these fire-arms men can no longer use or display their personal valour as they could of old; that there is greater difficulty now than there was in former times in joining battle; that the tactics followed then cannot be followed now; and that in time all warfare must resolve itself into a question of artillery.

Judging it not out of place to inquire whether these opinions are sound, and how far artillery has added to or taken from the strength of armies, and whether its use lessens or increases the opportunities for a good captain to behave valiantly, I shall at once address myself to the first of the averments noticed above, namely, that the armies of the ancient Romans could not have made the conquests they did, had artillery then been in use.

To this I answer by saying that, since war is made for purposes either of offence or defence, we have first to see in which of these two kinds of warfare artillery gives the greater advantage or inflicts the greater hurt. Now, though something might be said both ways, I nevertheless believe that artillery is beyond comparison more hurtful to him who stands on the defensive than to him who attacks. For he who defends himself must either do so in a town or in a fortified camp. If within a town, either the town will be a small one, as fortified towns commonly are, or it will be a great one. In the former case, he who is on the defensive is at once undone. For such is the shock of artillery that there is no wall so strong that in a few days it will not batter down, when, unless those within have ample room to withdraw behind covering works and trenches, they must be beaten; it being impossible for them to resist the assault of an enemy who forces an entrance through the breaches in their walls. Nor will any artillery a defender may have be of any service to him; since it is an established axiom that where men are able to advance in numbers and rapidly, artillery is powerless to check them.

For this reason, in storming towns the furious assaults of the northern nations prove irresistible, whereas the attacks of our Italian troops, who do not rush on in force, but advance to the assault in small knots of skirmishers (scaramouches, as they are fitly named), may easily be withstood. Those who advance in such loose order, and with so little spirit, against a breach covered by artillery, advance to certain destruction, and as against them artillery is useful. But when the assailants swarm to the breach so massed together that one pushes on another, unless they be brought to a stand by ditches and earthworks, they penetrate everywhere, and no artillery has any effect to keep them back; and though some must fall, yet not so many as to prevent a victory.

The frequent success of the northern nations in storming towns, and more particularly the recovery of Brescia by the French, is proof sufficient of the truth of what I say. For the town of Brescia rising against the French while the citadel still held out, the Venetians, to meet any attack which might be made from the citadel upon the town, ranged guns along the whole line of road which led from the one to the other, planting them in front, and in flank, and wherever else they could be brought to bear. Of all which M. de Foix making no account, dismounted with his men-at-arms from horseback, and, advancing with them on foot through the midst of the batteries, took the town; nor do we learn that he sustained any considerable loss from the enemy’s fire. So that, as I have said, he who has to defend himself in a small town, when his walls are battered down and he has no room to retire behind other works, and has only his artillery to trust to, is at once undone.

But even where the town you defend is a great one, so that you have room to fall back behind new works, artillery is still, by a long way, more useful for the assailant than for the defender. For to enable your artillery to do any hurt to those without, you must raise yourself with it above the level of the ground, since, if you remain on the level, the enemy, by erecting any low mound or earth-work, can so secure himself that it will be impossible for you to touch him. But in raising yourself above the level of the ground, whether by extending yourself along the gallery of the walls, or otherwise, you are exposed to two disadvantages; for, first, you cannot there bring into position guns of the same size or range as he who is without can bring to bear against you, since it is impossible to work large guns in a confined space; and, secondly, although you should succeed in getting your guns into position, you cannot construct such strong and solid works for their protection as those can who are outside, and on level ground, and who have all the room and every other advantage which they could desire. It is consequently impossible for him who defends a town to maintain his guns in position at any considerable height, when those who are outside have much and powerful artillery; while, if he place it lower, it becomes, as has been explained, to a great extent useless. So that in the end the defence of the city has to be effected, as in ancient times, by hand to hand fighting, or else by means of the smaller kinds of fire-arms, from which if the defender derive some slight advantage, it is balanced by the injury he sustains from the great artillery of his enemy, whereby the walls of the city are battered down and almost buried in their ditches; so that when it comes once more to an encounter at close quarters, by reason of his walls being demolished and his ditches filled up, the defender is now at a far greater disadvantage than he was formerly. Wherefore I repeat that these arms are infinitely more useful for him who attacks a town than for him who defends it.

As to the remaining method, which consists in your taking up your position in an entrenched camp, where you need not fight unless you please, and unless you have the advantage, I say that this method commonly affords you no greater facility for avoiding an engagement than the ancients had; nay, that sometimes, owing to the use of artillery, you are worse off than they were. For if the enemy fall suddenly upon you, and have some slight advantage (as may readily be the case from his being on higher ground, or from your works on his arrival being still incomplete so that you are not wholly sheltered by them), forthwith, and without your being able to prevent him, he dislodges you, and you are forced to quit your defences and deliver battle: as happened to the Spaniards at the battle of Ravenna. For having posted themselves between the river Ronco and an earthwork, from their not having carried this work high enough, and from the French having a slight advantage of ground, they were forced by the fire of the latter to quit their entrenchments come to an engagement.

But assuming the ground you have chosen for your camp to be, as it always should, higher than that occupied by the enemy, and your works to be complete and sufficient, so that from your position and preparations the enemy dare not attack you, recourse will then be had to the very same methods as were resorted to in ancient times when an army was so posted that it could not be assailed; that is to say, your country will be wasted, cities friendly to you besieged or stormed, and your supplies intercepted; until you are forced, at last, of necessity to quit your camp and to fight a pitched battle, in which, as will presently appear, artillery will be of little service to you.

If we consider, therefore, for what ends the Romans made wars, and that attack and not defence was the object of almost all their campaigns, it will be clear, if what I have said be true, that they would have had still greater advantage, and might have achieved their conquests with even greater ease, had artillery been in use in their times.

And as to the second complaint, that by reason of artillery men can no longer display their valour as they could in ancient days, I admit it to be true that when they have to expose themselves a few at a time, men run more risks now than formerly; as when they have to scale a town or perform some similar exploit, in which they are not massed together but must advance singly and one behind another. It is true, also, that Captains and commanders of armies are subjected to a greater risk of being killed now than of old, since they an be reached everywhere by the enemy’s fire; and it is no protection to them to be with those of their men who are furthest from the enemy, or to be surrounded by the bravest of their guards. Still, we do not often find either of these two dangers occasioning extraordinary loss. For towns strongly fortified are not attacked by escalade, nor will the assailing army advance against them in weak numbers; but will endeavour, as in ancient times, to reduce them by regular siege. And even in the case of towns attacked by storm, the dangers are not so very much greater now than they were formerly; for in those old days also, the defenders of towns were not without warlike engines, which if less terrible in their operation, had, so far as killing goes, much the same effect. And as for the deaths of captains and leaders of companies, it may be said that during the last twenty-four years of war in Italy, we have had fewer instances of such deaths than might be found in a period of ten years of ancient warfare. For excepting the Count Lodovico della Mirandola, who fell at Ferrara, when the Venetians a few years ago attacked that city, and the Duke de Nemours, slain at Cirignuola, we have no instance of any commander being killed by artillery. For, at Ravenna, M. de Foix died by steel and not by shot. Wherefore I say that if men no longer perform deeds of individual prowess, it results not so much from the use of artillery, as from the faulty discipline and weakness of our armies, which being collectively without valour cannot display it in particular instances.

As to the third assertion, that armies can no longer be brought to engage one another, and that war will soon come to be carried on wholly with artillery, I maintain that this allegation is utterly untrue, and will always be so held by those who are willing in handling their troops to follow the usages of ancient valour. For whosoever would have a good army must train it, either by real or by mimic warfare, to approach the enemy, to come within sword-thrust, and to grapple with him; and must rely more on foot soldiers than on horse, for reasons presently to be explained. But when you trust to your foot-soldiers, and to the methods already indicated, artillery becomes powerless to harm you. For foot-soldiers, in approaching an enemy, can with more ease escape the fire of his artillery than in ancient times they could have avoided a charge of elephants or of scythed chariots, or any other of those strange contrivances which had to be encountered by the Romans, and against which they always devised some remedy. And, certainly, as against artillery, their remedy would have been easier, by as much as the time during which artillery can do hurt is shorter than the time during which elephants and chariots could. For by these you were thrown into disorder after battle joined, whereas artillery harasses you only before you engage; a danger which infantry can easily escape, either by advancing so as to be covered by the inequalities of the ground, or by lying down while the firing continues; nay, we find from experience that even these precautions may be dispensed with, especially as against great artillery, which can hardly be levelled with such precision that its fire shall not either pass over your head from the range being too high, or fall short from its being too low.

So soon, however, as the engagement is begun, it is perfectly clear that neither small nor great artillery can harm you any longer; since, if the enemy have his artillerymen in front, you take them; if in rear, they will injure him before they injure you; and if in flank, they can never fire so effectively as to prevent your closing, with the result already explained. Nor does this admit of much dispute, since we have proof of it in the case of the Swiss at Novara, in the year 1513, when, with neither guns nor cavalry, they advanced against the French army, who had fortified themselves with artillery behind entrenchments, and routed them without suffering the slightest check from their fire. In further explanation whereof it is to be noted, that to work artillery effectively it should be protected by walls, by ditches, or by earth-works; and that whenever, from being left without such protection it has to be defended by men, as happens in pitched battles and engagements in the open field, it is either taken or otherwise becomes useless. Nor can it be employed on the flank of an army, save in the manner in which the ancients made use of their warlike engines, which they moved out from their columns that they might be worked without inconvenience, but withdrew within them when driven back by cavalry or other troops. He who looks for any further advantage from artillery does not rightly understand its nature, and trusts to what is most likely to deceive him. For although the Turk, using artillery, has gained victories over the Soldan and the Sofi, the only advantage he has had from it has been the terror into which the horses of the enemy, unused to such sounds, are thrown by the roar of the guns.

And now, to bring these remarks to a conclusion, I say briefly that, employed by an army wherein there is some strain of the ancient valour, artillery is useful; but employed otherwise, against a brave adversary, is utterly useless.

CHAPTER XVIII. — That the authority of the Romans and the example of ancient Warfare should make us hold Foot Soldiers of more account than Horse.

By many arguments and instances it can be clearly established that in their military enterprises the Romans set far more store on their infantry than on their cavalry, and trusted to the former to carry out all the chief objects which their armies were meant to effect. Among many other examples of this, we may notice the great battle which they fought with the Latins near the lake Regillus, where to steady their wavering ranks they made their horsemen dismount, and renewing the combat on foot obtained a victory. Here we see plainly that the Romans had more confidence in themselves when they fought on foot than when they fought on horseback. The same expedient was resorted to by them in many of their other battles, and always in their sorest need they found it their surest stay.

Nor are we to condemn the practice in deference to the opinion of Hannibal, who, at the battle of Cannæ, on seeing the consuls make the horsemen dismount, said scoffingly, “Better still had they delivered their knights to me in chains.” For though this saying came from the mouth of a most excellent soldier, still, if we are to regard authority, we ought rather to follow the authority of a commonwealth like Rome, and of the many great captains who served her, than that of Hannibal alone. But, apart from authority, there are manifest reasons to bear out what I say. For a man may go on foot into many places where a horse cannot go; men can be taught to keep rank, and if thrown into disorder to recover form; whereas, it is difficult to keep horses in line, and impossible if once they be thrown into disorder to reform them. Moreover we find that with horses as with men, some have little courage and some much; and that often a spirited horse is ridden by a faint-hearted rider, or a dull horse by a courageous rider, and that in whatever way such disparity is caused, confusion and disorder result. Again, infantry, when drawn up in column, can easily break and is not easily broken by cavalry. This is vouched, not only by many ancient and many modern instances, but also by the authority of those who lay down rules for the government of States, who show that at first wars were carried on by mounted soldiers, because the methods for arraying infantry were not yet understood, but that so soon as these were discovered, the superiority of foot over horse was at once recognized. In saying this, I would not have it supposed that horsemen are not of the greatest use in armies, whether for purposes of observation, for harrying and laying waste the enemy’s country, for pursuing a retreating foe or helping to repulse his cavalry. But the substance and sinew of an army, and that part of it which ought constantly to be most considered, should always be the infantry. And among sins of the Italian princes who have made their country the slave of foreigners, there is none worse than that they have held these arms in contempt, and turned their whole attention to mounted troops.

This error is due to the craft of our captains and to the ignorance of our rulers. For the control of the armies of Italy for the last five and twenty years resting in the hands of men, who, as having no lands of their own, may be looked on as mere soldiers of fortune, these fell forthwith on contriving how they might maintain their credit by being supplied with the arms which the princes of the country were without. And as they had no subjects of their own of whom they could make use, and could not obtain constant employment and pay for a large number of foot-soldiers, and as a small number would have given them no importance, they had recourse to horsemen. For a condottiere drawing pay for two or three hundred horsemen was maintained by them in the highest credit, and yet the cost was not too great to be met by the princes who employed him. And to effect their object with more ease, and increase their credit still further, these adventurers would allow no merit or favour to be due to foot-soldiers, but claimed all for their horsemen. And to such a length was this bad system carried, that in the very greatest army only the smallest sprinkling of infantry was to be found. This, together with many other ill practices which accompanied it, has so weakened the militia of Italy, that the country has easily been trampled upon by all the nations of the North.

That it is a mistake to make more account of cavalry than of infantry, may be still more clearly seen from another example taken from Roman history. The Romans being engaged on the siege of Sora, a troop of horse a sally from the town to attack their camp; when the Roman master of the knights advancing with his own horsemen to give them battle, it so chanced that, at the very first onset, the leaders on both sides were slain. Both parties being thus left without commanders, and the combat, nevertheless, continuing, the Romans thinking thereby to have the advantage of their adversaries, alighted from horseback, obliging the enemy’s cavalry, in order to defend themselves, to do the like. The result was that the Romans had the victory. Now there could be no stronger instance than this to show the superiority of foot over horse. For while in other battles the Roman cavalry were made by their consuls to dismount in order to succour their infantry who were in distress and in need of such aid, on this occasion they dismounted, not to succour their infantry, nor to encounter an enemy contending on foot, but because they saw that though they could not prevail against the enemy fighting as horsemen against horsemen, on foot they readily might. And from this I conclude that foot-soldiers, if rightly handled, can hardly be beaten except by other soldiers fighting on foot.

With very few cavalry, but with a considerable force of infantry, the Roman commanders, Crassus and Marcus Antonius, each for many days together overran the territories of the Parthians, although opposed by the countless horsemen of that nation. Crassus, indeed, with the greater part of his army, was left there dead, and Antonius only saved himself by his valour; but even in the extremities to which the Romans were then brought, see how greatly superior foot-soldiers are to horse. For though fighting in an open country, far from the sea-coast, and cut off from his supplies, Antonius proved himself a valiant soldier in the judgment even of the Parthians themselves, the whole strength of whose cavalry never ventured to attack the columns of his army. And though Crassus perished there, any one who reads attentively the account of his expedition must see that he was rather outwitted than defeated, and that even when his condition was desperate, the Parthians durst not close with him, but effected his destruction by hanging continually on the flanks of his army, and intercepting his supplies, while cajoling him with promises which they never kept.

It might, I grant, be harder to demonstrate this great superiority of foot over horse, had we not very many modern examples affording the clearest proof of it. For instance, at the battle of Novara, of which we have already spoken, nine thousand Swiss foot were seen to attack ten thousand cavalry together with an equal number of infantry, and to defeat them; the cavalry being powerless to injure them, while of the infantry, who were mostly Gascons, and badly disciplined, they made no account. On another occasion we have seen twenty-six thousand Swiss march on Milan to attack Francis I. of France, who had with him twenty thousand men-at-arms, forty thousand foot, and a hundred pieces of artillery; and although they were not victorious as at Novara, they nevertheless fought valiantly for two days together, and, in the end, though beaten, were able to bring off half their number. With foot-soldiers only Marcus Attilius Regulus ventured to oppose himself, not to cavalry merely, but to elephants; and if the attempt failed it does not follow that he was not justified by the valour of his men in believing them equal to surmount this danger.

I repeat, therefore, that to prevail against well-disciplined infantry, you must meet them with infantry disciplined still better, and that otherwise you advance to certain destruction. In the time of Filippo Visconti, Duke of Milan, some sixteen thousand Swiss made a descent on Lombardy, whereupon the Duke, who at that time had Il Carmagnola as his captain, sent him with six thousand men-at-arms and a slender following of foot-soldiers to meet them. Not knowing their manner of fighting, Carmagnola fell upon them with his horsemen, expecting to put them at once to rout; but finding them immovable, after losing many of his men he withdrew. But, being a most wise captain, and skilful in devising new remedies to meet unwonted dangers, after reinforcing his company he again advanced to the attack; and when about to engage made all his men-at-arms dismount, and placing them in front of his foot-soldiers, fell once more upon the Swiss, who could then no longer withstand him. For his men, being on foot and well armed, easily penetrated the Swiss ranks without hurt to themselves; and getting among them, had no difficulty in cutting them down, so that of the entire army of the Swiss those only escaped who were spared by his humanity.

Of this difference in the efficiency of these two kinds of troops, many I believe are aware; but such is the unhappiness and perversity of the times in which we live, that neither ancient nor modern examples, nor even the consciousness of error, can move our present princes to amend their ways, or convince them that to restore credit to the arms of a State or province, it is necessary to revive this branch of their militia also, to keep it near them, to make much of it, and to give it life, that in return, it may give back life and reputation to them. But as they have departed from all those other methods already spoken of, so have they departed from this, and with this result, that to them the acquisition of territory is rather a loss than a gain, as presently shall be shown.

CHAPTER XIX. — That Acquisitions made by ill-governed States and such as follow not the valiant methods of the Romans, tend rather to their Ruin than to their Aggrandizement.

To these false opinions, founded on the pernicious example first set by the present corrupt age, we owe it, that no man thinks of departing from the methods which are in use. It had been impossible, for instance, some thirty years ago, to persuade an Italian that ten thousand foot-soldiers could, on plain ground, attack ten thousand cavalry together with an equal number of infantry; and not merely attack, but defeat them; as we saw done by the Swiss at that battle of Novara, to which I have already referred so often. For although history abounds in similar examples, none would have believed them, or, believing them, would have said that nowadays men are so much better armed, that a squadron of cavalry could shatter a rock, to say nothing of a column of infantry. With such false pleas would they have belied their judgment, taking no account that with a very scanty force of foot-soldiers, Lucullus routed a hundred and fifty thousand of the cavalry of Tigranes, among whom were a body of horsemen very nearly resembling our own men-at-arms. Now, however, this error is demonstrated by the example of the northern nations.

And since what history teaches as to the superiority of foot-soldiers is thus proved to be true, men ought likewise to believe that the other methods practised by the ancients are in like manner salutary and useful. And were this once accepted, both princes and commonwealths would make fewer blunders than they do, would be stronger to resist sudden attack, and would no longer place their sole hope of safety in flight; while those who take in hand to provide a State with new institutions would know better what direction to give them, whether in the way of extending or merely of preserving; and would see that to augment the numbers of their citizens, to assume other States as companions rather than reduce them to subjection, to send out colonies for the defence of acquired territories, to hold their spoils at the credit of the common stock, to overcome enemies by inroads and pitched battles rather than by sieges, to enrich the public purse, keep down private wealth, and zealously, to maintain all military exercises, are the true ways to aggrandize a State and to extend its empire. Or if these methods for adding to their power are not to their mind, let them remember that acquisitions made in any other way are the ruin of republics, and so set bounds to their ambition, wisely regulating the internal government of their country by suitable laws and ordinances, forbidding extension, and looking only to defence, and taking heed that their defences are in good order, as do those republics of Germany which live and for long have lived, in freedom.

And yet, as I have said on another occasion, when speaking of the difference between the methods suitable for acquiring and those suitable for maintaining, it is impossible for a republic to remain long in the peaceful enjoyment of freedom within a restricted frontier. For should it forbear from molesting others, others are not likely to refrain from molesting it; whence must grow at once the desire and the necessity to make acquisitions; or should no enemies be found abroad, they will be found at home, for this seems to be incidental to all great States. And if the free States of Germany are, and have long been able to maintain themselves on their present footing, this arises from certain conditions peculiar to that country, and to be found nowhere else, without which these communities could not go on living as they do.

The district of Germany of which I speak was formerly subject to the Roman Empire, in the same way as France and Spain; but on the decline of the Empire, and when its very name came to be limited to this one province, its more powerful cities taking advantage of the weakness and necessities of the Emperors, began to free themselves by buying from them their liberty, subject to the payment of a trifling yearly tribute; until, gradually, all the cities which held directly from the Emperor, and were not subject to any intermediate lord, had, in like manner, purchased their freedom. While this went on, it so happened that certain communities subject to the Duke of Austria, among which were Friburg, the people of Schweitz, and the like, rose in rebellion against him, and meeting at the outset with good success, by degrees acquired such accession of strength that so far from returning under the Austrian yoke, they are become formidable to all their neighbours These are the States which we now name Swiss.

Germany is, consequently, divided between the Swiss, the communities which take the name of Free Towns, the Princes, and the Emperor; and the reason why, amid so many conflicting interests, wars do not break out, or breaking out are of short continuance, is the reverence in which all hold this symbol of the Imperial authority. For although the Emperor be without strength of his own, he has nevertheless such credit with all these others that he alone can keep them united, and, interposing as mediator, can speedily repress by his influence any dissensions among them.

The greatest and most protracted wars which have taken place in this country have been those between the Swiss and the Duke of Austria; and although for many years past the Empire and the dukedom of Austria have been united in the same man, he has always failed to subdue the stubbornness of the Swiss, who are never to be brought to terms save by force. Nor has the rest of Germany lent the Emperor much assistance in his wars with the Swiss, the Free Towns being little disposed to attack others whose desire is to live as they themselves do, in freedom; while the Princes of the Empire either are so poor that they cannot, or from jealousy of the power of the Emperor will not, take part with him against them.

These communities, therefore, abide contented within their narrow confines, because, having regard to the Imperial authority, they have no occasion to desire greater; and are at the same time obliged to live in unity within their walls, because an enemy is always at hand, and ready to take advantage of their divisions to effect an entrance. But were the circumstances of the country other than they are these communities would be forced to make attempts to extend their dominions, and be constrained to relinquish their present peaceful mode of life. And since the same conditions are not found elsewhere, other nations cannot adopt this way of living, but are compelled to extend their power either by means of leagues, or else by the methods used by the Romans; and any one who should act otherwise would find not safety but rather death and destruction. For since in a thousand ways, and from causes innumerable, conquests are surrounded with dangers, it may well happen that in adding to our dominions, we add nothing to our strength; but whosoever increases not his strength while he adds to his dominions, must needs be ruined. He who is impoverished by his wars, even should he come off victorious, can add nothing to his strength, since he spends more than he gains, as the Venetians and Florentines have done. For Venice has been far feebler since she acquired Lombardy, and Florence since she acquired Tuscany, than when the one was content to be mistress of the seas, and the other of the lands lying within six miles from her walls. And this from their eagerness to acquire without knowing what way to take. For which ignorance these States are the more to be blamed in proportion as there is less to excuse them; since they had seen what methods were used by the Romans, and could have followed in their footsteps; whereas the Romans, without any example set them, were able by their own prudence to shape a course for themselves.

But even to well-governed States, their conquests may chance to occasion much harm; as when some city or province is acquired abounding in luxury and delights, by whose manners the conqueror becomes infected; as happened first to the Romans, and afterwards to Hannibal on taking possession of Capua. And had Capua been at such a distance from Rome that a ready remedy could not have been applied to the disorders of the soldiery, or had Rome herself been in any degree tainted with corruption, this acquisition had certainly proved her ruin. To which Titus Livius bears witness when he says, “Most mischievous at this time to our military discipline was Capua; for ministering to all delights, she turned away the corrupted minds of our soldiers from the remembrance of their country.” And, truly, cities and provinces like this, avenge themselves on their conquerors without blood or blow; since by infecting them with their own evil customs they prepare them for defeat at the hands of any assailant. Nor could the subject have been better handled than by Juvenal, where he says in his Satires, that into the hearts of the Romans, through their conquests in foreign lands, foreign manners found their way; and in place of frugality and other admirable virtues —

“Came luxury more mortal than the sword,
 And settling down, avenged a vanquished world.”

And if their conquests were like to be fatal to the Romans at a time when they were still animated by great virtue and prudence, how must it fare with those who follow methods altogether different from theirs, and who, to crown their other errors of which we have already said enough, resort to auxiliary and mercenary arms, bringing upon themselves those dangers whereof mention shall be made in the Chapter following.

CHAPTER XX. — Of the Dangers incurred by Princes or Republics who resort to Auxiliary or Mercenary Arms.

Had I not already, in another treatise, enlarged on the inutility of mercenary and auxiliary, and on the usefulness of national arms, I should dwell on these matters in the present Discourse more at length than it is my design to do. For having given the subject very full consideration elsewhere, here I would be brief. Still when I find Titus Livius supplying a complete example of what we have to look for from auxiliaries, by whom I mean troops sent to our assistance by some other prince or ruler, paid by him and under officers by him appointed, it is not fit that I should pass it by in silence.

It is related, then, by our historian, that the Romans, after defeating on two different occasions armies of the Samnites with forces sent by them to succour the Capuans, whom they thus relieved from the war which the Samnites Were waging against them, being desirious to return to Rome, left behind two legions to defend the Capuans, that the latter might not, from being altogether deprived of their protection, once more become a prey to the Samnites. But these two legions, rotting in idleness began to take such delight therein, that forgetful of their country and the reverence due to the senate, they resolved to seize by violence the city they had been left to guard by their valour. For to them it seemed that the citizens of Capua were unworthy to enjoy advantages which they knew not how to defend. The Romans, however, getting timely notice of this design, at once met and defeated it, in the manner to be more fully noticed when I come to treat of conspiracies.

Once more then, I repeat, that of all the various kinds of troops, auxiliaries are the most pernicious, because the prince or republic resorting to them for aid has no authority over them, the only person who possesses such authority being he who sends them. For, as I have said, auxiliary troops are those sent to your assistance by some other potentate, under his own flag, under his own officers, and in his own pay, as were the legions sent by the Romans to Capua. Such troops, if victorious, will for the most part plunder him by whom, as well as him against whom, they are hired to fight; and this they do, sometimes at the instigation of the potentate who sends them, sometimes for ambitious ends of their own. It was not the purpose of the Romans to violate the league and treaty which they had made with Capua; but to their soldiers it seemed so easy a matter to master the Capuans, that they were readily led into this plot for depriving them of their town and territories. Many other examples might be given to the same effect, but it is enough to mention besides this instance, that of the people of Regium, who were deprived of their city and of their lives by another Roman legion sent for their protection.

Princes and republics, therefore, should resort to any other expedient for the defence of their States sooner than call in hired auxiliaries, when they have to rest their entire hopes of safety on them; since any accord or terms, however hard, which you may make with your enemy, will be carefully studied and current events well considered, it will be seen that for one who has succeeded with such assistance, hundreds have been betrayed. Nor, in truth, can any better opportunity for usurping a city or province present itself to an ambitious prince or commonwealth, than to be asked to send an army for its defence. On the other hand, he who is so greedy of conquest as to summon such help, not for purposes of defence but in order to attack others, seeks to have what he can never hold and is most likely to be taken from him by the very person who helps him to gain it. Yet such is the perversity of men that, to gratify the desire of the moment, they shut their eyes to those ills which must speedily ensue and are no more moved by example in this matter than in all those others of which I have spoken; for were they moved by these examples they would see that the more disposed they are to deal generously with their neighbours, and the more averse they are to usurp authority over them, the readier will these be to throw themselves into their arms; as will at once appear from the case of the Capuans.

CHAPTER XXI. — That Capua was the first City to which the Romans sent a Prætor; nor there, until four hundred years after they began to make War.

The great difference between the methods followed by the ancient Romans in adding to their dominions, and those used for that purpose by the States of the present time, has now been sufficiently discussed. It has been seen, too how in dealing with the cities which they did not think fit to destroy, and even with those which had made their submission not as companions but as subjects, it was customary with the Romans to permit them to live on under their own laws, without imposing any outward sign of dependence, merely binding them to certain conditions, or complying with which they were maintained in their former dignity and importance. We know, further, that the same methods continued to be followed by the Romans until they passed beyond the confines of Italy, and began to reduce foreign kingdoms and States to provinces: as plainly appears in the fact that Capua was the first city to which they sent a prætor, and him from no motive of ambition, but at the request of the Capuans themselves who, living at variance with one another, thought it necessary to have a Roman citizen in their town who might restore unity and good order among them. Influenced by this example, and urged by the same need, the people of Antium were the next to ask that they too might have a prætor given them; touching which request and in connection with which new method of governing, Titus Livius observes, “that not the arms only but also the laws of Rome now began to exert an influence;” showing how much the course thus followed by the Romans promoted the growth of their authority.

For those cities, more especially, which have been used to freedom or to be governed by their own citizens, rest far better satisfied with a government which they do not see, even though it involve something of oppression, than with one which standing constantly before their eyes, seems every day to reproach them with the disgrace of servitude. And to the prince there is another advantage in this method of government, namely, that as the judges and magistrates who administer the laws civil and criminal within these cities, are not under his control, no decision of theirs can throw responsibility or discredit upon him; so that he thus escapes many occasions of calumny and hatred. Of the truth whereof, besides the ancient instances which might be noted, we have a recent example here in Italy. For Genoa, as every one knows, has many times been occupied by the French king, who always, until lately, sent thither a French governor to rule in his name. Recently, however, not from choice but of necessity, he has permitted the town to be self-governed under a Genoese ruler; and any one who had to decide which of these two methods of governing gives the greater security to the king’s authority and the greater content to the people themselves, would assuredly have to pronounce in favour of the latter.

Men, moreover, in proportion as they see you averse to usurp authority over them, grow the readier to surrender themselves into your hands; and fear you less on the score of their freedom, when they find you acting towards them with consideration and kindness. It was the display of these qualities that moved the Capuans to ask the Romans for a prætor; for had the Romans betrayed the least eagerness to send them one, they would at once have conceived jealousy and grown estranged.

But why turn for examples to Capua and Rome, when we have them close at hand in Tuscany and Florence? Who is there but knows what a time it is since the city of Pistoja submitted of her own accord to the Florentine supremacy? Who, again, but knows the animosity which down to the present day exists between Florence and the cities of Pisa, Lucca, and Siena? This difference of feeling does not arise from the citizens of Pistoja valuing their freedom less than the citizens of these other towns or thinking themselves inferior to them, but from the Florentines having always acted towards the former as brothers, towards the latter as foes. This it was that led the Pistojans to come voluntarily under our authority while the others have done and do all in their power to escape it. For there seems no reason to doubt, that if Florence, instead of exasperating these neighbours of hers, had sought to win them over, either by entering into league with them or by lending them assistance, she would at this hour have been mistress of Tuscany. Not that I would be understood to maintain that recourse is never to be had to force and to arms, but that these are only to be used in the last resort, and when all other remedies are unavailing.

CHAPTER XXII. — That in matters of moment Men often judge amiss.

How falsely men often judge of things, they who are present at their deliberations have constant occasion to know. For in many matters, unless these deliberations be guided by men of great parts, the conclusions come to are certain to be wrong. And because in corrupt republics, and especially in quiet times, either through jealousy or from other like causes, men of great ability are often obliged to stand aloof, it follows that measures not good in themselves are by a common error judged to be good, or are promoted by those who seek public favour rather than the public advantage. Mistakes of this sort are found out afterwards in seasons of adversity, when recourse must be had to those persons who in peaceful times had been, as it were, forgotten, as shall hereafter in its proper place be more fully explained. Cases, moreover, arise in which those who have little experience of affairs are sure to be misled, from the matters with which they have to deal being attended by many deceptive appearances such as lead men to believe whatsoever they are minded to believe.

These remarks I make with reference to the false hopes which the Latins, after being defeated by the Romans, were led to form on the persuasion of their prætor Numitius, and also with reference to what was believed by many a few years ago, when Francis, king of France, came to recover Milan from the Swiss. For Francis of Angoulême, succeeding on the death of Louis XII. to the throne of France, and desiring to recover for that realm the Duchy of Milan, on which, some years before, the Swiss had seized at the instance of Pope Julius, sought for allies in Italy to second him in his attempt; and besides the Venetians, who had already been gained over by King Louis, endeavoured to secure the aid of the Florentines and Pope Leo X.; thinking that were he to succeed in getting these others to take part with him, his enterprise would be easier. For the forces of the Spanish king were then in Lombardy, and the army of the Emperor at Verona.

Pope Leo, however, did not fall in with the wishes of Francis, being, it is said, persuaded by his advisers that his best course was to stand neutral. For they urged that it was not for the advantage of the Church to have powerful strangers, whether French or Swiss, in Italy; but that to restore the country to its ancient freedom, it must be delivered from the yoke of both. And since to conquer both, whether singly or together, was impossible, it was to be desired that the one should overthrow the other, after which the Church with her friends might fall upon the victor. And it was averred that no better opportunity for carrying out this design could ever be found than then presented itself; for both the French and the Swiss were in the field; while the Pope had his troops in readiness to appear on the Lombard frontier and in the vicinity of the two armies, where, under colour of watching his own interests, he could easily keep them until the opposed hosts came to an engagement; when, as both armies were full of courage, their encounter might be expected to be a bloody one, and likely to leave the victor so weakened that it would be easy for the Pope to attack and defeat him; and so, to his own great glory, remain master of Lombardy and supreme throughout Italy.

How baseless this expectation was, was seen from the event. For the Swiss being routed after a protracted combat, the troops of the Pope and Spain, so far from venturing to attack the conqueror, prepared for flight; nor would flight have saved them, had not the humanity or indifference of the king withheld him from pursuing his victory, and disposed him to make terms with the Church.

The arguments put forward by the Pope’s advisers had a certain show of reason in their favour, which looked at from a distance seemed plausible enough; but were in reality wholly contrary to truth; since it rarely happens that the captain who wins a victory loses any great number of his men, his loss being in battle only, and not in flight. For in the heat of battle, while men stand face to face, but few fall, chiefly because such combats do not last long; and even when they do last, and many of the victorious army are slain, so splendid is the reputation which attends a victory, and so great the terror it inspires, as far to outweigh any loss the victor suffers by the slaughter of his soldiers; so that an enemy who, trusting to find him weakened, should then venture to attack him, would soon be taught his mistake, unless strong enough to give him battle at any time, before his victory as well as after. For in that case he might, as fortune and valour should determine, either win or lose; though, even then, the army which had first fought and won would have an advantage. And this we know for a truth from what befell the Latins in consequence of the mistake made by Numitius their prætor, and their blindness in believing him. For when they had already suffered defeat at the hands of the Romans, Numitius caused it to be proclaimed throughout the whole country of Latium, that now was the time to fall upon the enemy, exhausted by a struggle in which they were victorious only in name, while in reality suffering all those ills which attend defeat, and who might easily be crushed by any fresh force brought against them. Whereupon the Latins believed him, and getting together a new army, were forthwith routed with such loss as always awaits those who listen to like counsels.

CHAPTER XXIII. — That in chastising their Subjects when circumstances required it the Romans always avoided half-measures.

“Such was now the state of affairs in Latium, that peace and war seemed alike intolerable.” No worse calamity can befall a prince or commonwealth than to be reduced to such straits that they can neither accept peace nor support war; as is the case with those whom it would ruin to conclude peace on the terms offered, while war obliges them either to yield themselves a spoil to their allies, or remain a prey to their foes. To this grievous alternative are men led by evil counsels and unwise courses, and, as already said, from not rightly measuring their strength. For the commonwealth or prince who has rightly measured his strength, can hardly be brought so low as were the Latins, who made war with the Romans when they should have made terms, and made terms when they should have made war, and so mismanaged everything that the friendship and the enmity of Rome were alike fatal. Whence it came that, in the first place, they were defeated and broken by Manlius Torquatus, and afterwards utterly subdued by Camillus; who, when he had forced them to surrender at discretion to the Roman arms, and had placed garrisons in all their towns, and taken hostages from all, returned to Rome and reported to the senate that the whole of Latium now lay at their mercy.

And because the sentence then passed by the senate is memorable, and worthy to be studied by princes that it may be imitated by them on like occasion, I shall cite the exact words which Livius puts into the mouth of Camillus, as confirming what I have already said touching the methods used by the Romans to extend their power, and as showing how in chastising their subjects they always avoided half-measures and took a decided course. For government consists in nothing else than in so controlling your subjects that it shall neither be in their power nor for their interest to harm you. And this is effected either by making such sure work with them as puts it out of their power to do you injury, or else by so loading them with benefits that it would be folly in them to seek to alter their condition. All which is implied first in the measures proposed by Camillus, and next in the resolutions passed on these proposals by the senate. The words of Camillus were as follows: “The immortal gods have made you so entirely masters in the matter you are now considering, that it lies with you to pronounce whether Latium shall or shall not longer exist. So far as the Latins are concerned, you can secure a lasting peace either by clemency or by severity. Would you deal harshly with those whom you have conquered and who have given themselves into your hands, you can blot out the whole Latin nation. Would you, after the fashion of our ancestors, increase the strength of Rome by admitting the vanquished to the rights of citizenship, here you have opportunity to do so, and with the greatest glory to yourselves. That, assuredly, is the strongest government which they rejoice in who obey it. Now, then, is your time, while the minds of all are bent on what is about to happen, to obtain an ascendency over them, either by punishment or by benefits.”

Upon this motion the senate resolved, in accordance with the advice given by the consul, to take the case of each city separately, and either destroy utterly or else treat with tenderness all the more important of the Latin towns. To those cities they dealt with leniently, they granted exemptions and privileges, conferring upon them the rights of citizenship, and securing their welfare in every particular. The others they razed to the ground, and planting colonies in their room, either removed the inhabitants to Rome, or so scattered and dispersed them that neither by arms nor by counsels was it ever again in their power to inflict hurt. For, as I have said already, the Romans never, in matters of moment, resorted to half-measures. And the sentence which they then pronounced should be a pattern for all rulers, and ought to have been followed by the Florentines when, in the year 1502, Arezzo and all the Val di Chiana rose in revolt. For had they followed it, they would have established their authority on a surer footing, and added much to the greatness of their city by securing for it those lands which are needed to supply it with the necessaries of life. But pursuing that half-hearted policy which is most mischievous in executing justice, some of the Aretines they outlawed, some they condemned to death, and all they deprived of their dignities and ancient importance in their town, while leaving the town itself untouched. And if in the councils then held any Florentine recommended that Arezzo should be dismantled, they who thought themselves wiser than their fellows objected, that to do so would be little to the honour of our republic, since it would look as though she lacked strength to hold it. Reasons like this are of a sort which seem sound, but are not really so; for, by the same rule, no parricide should be put to death, nor any other malefactor, however atrocious his crimes; because, forsooth, it would be discreditable to the ruler to appear unequal to the control of a single criminal. They who hold such opinions fail to see that when men individually, or entire cities collectively, offend against the State, the prince for his own safety, and as a warning to others, has no alternative but to make an end of them; and that true honour lies in being able and in knowing how to chastise such offenders, and not in incurring endless dangers in the effort to retain them. For the prince who does not chastise offenders in a way that puts it out of their power to offend again, is accounted unwise or worthless.

How necessary it was for the Romans to execute Justice against the Latins, is further seen from the course took with the men of Privernum. And here the text of Livius suggests two points for our attention: first, as already noted, that a subjugated people is either to be caressed or crushed; and second, how much it is for our advantage to maintain a manly bearing, and to speak the truth fearlessly in the presence of the wise. For the senate being met to determine the fate of the citizens of Privernum, who after rebelling had been reduced to submission by the Roman arms, certain of these citizens were sent by their countrymen to plead for pardon. When these had come into the presence of the senate, one of them was asked by a senator, “What punishment he thought his fellow citizens deserved?” To which he of Privernum answered, “Such punishment as they deserve who deem themselves worthy of freedom.” “But,” said the consul, “should we remit your punishment, what sort of peace can we hope to have with you?” To which the other replied, “If granted on fair terms, a firm and lasting peace; if on unfair, a peace of brief duration.” Upon this, though many of the senators were displeased, the wiser among them declared “that they had heard the voice of freedom and manhood, and would never believe that the man or people who so spoke ought to remain longer than was needful in a position which gave them cause for shame; since that was a safe peace which was accepted willingly; whereas good faith could not be looked for where it was sought to impose servitude.” So saying, they decided that the people of Privernum should be admitted to Roman citizenship, with all the rights and privileges thereto appertaining; declaring that “men whose only thought was for freedom, were indeed worthy to be Romans.” So pleasing was this true and high answer to generous minds, while any other must have seemed at once false and shameful. And they who judge otherwise of men, and of those men, especially, who have been used to be free, or so to think themselves, are mistaken; and are led through their mistake to adopt courses unprofitable for themselves and affording no content to others. Whence, the frequent rebellions and the downfall of States.

But, returning to our subject, I conclude, as well from this instance of Privernum, as from the measures followed with the Latins, that when we have to pass sentence upon powerful States accustomed to live in freedom, we must either destroy them utterly, or else treat them with much indulgence; and that any other course we may take with them will be unprofitable. But most carefully should we avoid, as of all courses the most pernicious, such half-measures as were followed by the Samnites when they had the Romans shut up in the Caudine Forks, and would not listen to the counsels of the old man who urged them either to send their captives away with every honourable attention, or else put them all to death; but adopted a middle course, and after disarming them and making them pass under the yoke, suffered them to depart at once disgraced and angered. And no long time after, they found to their sorrow that the old man’s warning was true, and that the course they had themselves chosen was calamitous; as shall, hereafter, in its place be shown.

CHAPTER XXIV. — That, commonly, Fortresses do much more Harm than Good

To the wise men of our day it may seem an oversight on the part of the Romans, that, when they sought to protect themselves against the men of Latium and Privernum, it never occurred to them to build strongholds in their cities to be a curb upon them, and insure their fidelity, especially when we remember the Florentine saying which these same wise men often quote, to the effect that Pisa and other like cities must be held by fortresses Doubtless, had those old Romans been like-minded with our modern sages, they would not have neglected to build themselves fortresses, but because they far surpassed them in courage, sense, and vigour, they refrained. And while Rome retained her freedom, and adhered to her own wise ordinances and wholesome usages, she never built a single fortress with the view to hold any city or province, though, sometimes, she may have suffered those to stand which she found already built.

Looking, therefore, to the course followed by the Romans in this particular, and to that adopted by our modern rulers, it seems proper to consider whether or not it is advisable to build fortresses, and whether they are more likely to help or to hurt him who builds them In the first place, then, we are to remember that fortresses are built either as a defence against foreign foes or against subjects In the former case, I pronounce them unnecessary, in the latter mischievous. And to state the reasons why in the latter case they are mischievous, I say that when princes or republics are afraid of their subjects and in fear lest they rebel, this must proceed from knowing that their subjects hate them, which hatred in its turn results from their own ill conduct, and that again from their thinking themselves able to rule their subjects by mere force, or from their governing with little prudence. Now one of the causes which lead them to suppose that they can rule by mere force, is this very circumstance of their people having these fortresses on their backs So that the conduct which breeds hatred is itself mainly occasioned by these princes or republics being possessed of fortresses, which, if this be true, are really far more hurtful than useful First, because, as has been said already, they render a ruler bolder and more violent in his bearing towards his subjects, and, next, because they do not in reality afford him that security which he believes them to give For all those methods of violence and coercion which may be used to keep a people under, resolve themselves into two; since either like the Romans you must always have it in your power to bring a strong army into the field, or else you must dissipate, destroy, and disunite the subject people, and so divide and scatter them that they can never again combine to injure you For should you merely strip them of their wealth, spoliatis arma supersunt, arms still remain to them, or if you deprive them of their weapons, furor arma ministrat, rage will supply them, if you put their chiefs to death and continue to maltreat the rest, heads will renew themselves like those Hydra; while, if you build fortresses, these may serve in time of peace to make you bolder in outraging your subjects, but in time of war they will prove wholly useless, since they will be attacked at once by foes both foreign and domestic, whom together it will be impossible for you to resist. And if ever fortresses were useless they are so at the present day, by reason of the invention of artillery, against the fury of which, as I have shown already, a petty fortress which affords no room for retreat behind fresh works, cannot be defended.

But to go deeper into the matter, I say, either you are a prince seeking by means of these fortresses to hold the people of your city in check; or you are a prince, or it may be a republic, desirous to control some city which you have gained in war. To the prince I would say, that, for the reasons already given, nothing can be more unserviceable than a fortress as a restraint upon your subjects, since it only makes you the readier to oppress them, and less scrupulous how you do so; while it is this very oppression which moves them to destroy you, and so kindles their hatred, that the fortress, which is the cause of all the mischief, is powerless to protect you. A wise and good prince, therefore, that he may continue good, and give no occasion or encouragement to his descendants to become evil, will never build a fortress, to the end that neither he nor they may ever be led to trust to it rather than to the good-will of their subjects. And if Francesco Sforza, who was accounted a wise ruler, on becoming Duke of Milan erected a fortress in that city, I say that herein he was unwise, and that the event has shown the building of this fortress to have been hurtful and not helpful to his heirs. For thinking that by its aid they could behave as badly as they liked to their citizens and subjects, and yet be secure, they refrained from no sort of violence or oppression, until, becoming beyond measure odious, they lost their State as soon as an enemy attacked it. Nor was this fortress, which in peace had occasioned them much hurt, any defence or of any service them in war. For had they being without it, through thoughtlessness, treated their subjects inhumanely, they must soon have discovered and withdrawn from their danger; and might, thereafter, with no other help than that of attached subjects, have withstood the attacks of the French far more successfully than they could with their fortress, but with subjects whom they had estranged.

And, in truth, fortresses are unserviceable in every way, since they may be lost either by the treachery of those to whom you commit their defence, or by the overwhelming strength of an assailant, or else by famine. And where you seek to recover a State which you have lost, and in which only the fortress remains to you, if that fortress is to be of any service or assistance to you, you must have an army wherewith to attack the enemy who has driven you out. But with such an army you might succeed in recovering your State as readily without a fortress as with one; nay, perhaps, even more readily, since your subjects, had you not used them ill, from the overweening confidence your fortress gave you, might then have felt better disposed towards you. And the event shows that in times of adversity this very fortress of Milan has been of no advantage whatever, either to the Sforzas or to the French; but, on the contrary, has brought ruin on both, because, trusting to it, they did not turn their thoughts to nobler methods for preserving that State. Guido Ubaldo, duke of Urbino and son to Duke Federigo, who in his day was a warrior of much renown, but who was driven from his dominions by Cesare Borgia, son to Pope Alexander VI., when afterwards, by a sudden stroke of good fortune, he was restored to the dukedom caused all the fortresses of the country to be dismantled, judging them to be hurtful. For as he was beloved by his subjects, so far as they were concerned he had no need for fortresses; while, as against foreign enemies, he saw he could not defend them, since this would have required an army kept constantly in the field. For which reasons he made them be razed to the ground.

When Pope Julius II. had driven the Bentivogli from Bologna, after erecting a citadel in that town, he caused the people to be cruelly oppressed by his governor; whereupon, the people rebelled, and he forthwith lost the citadel; so that his citadel, and the oppressions to which it led, were of less service to him than different behaviour on his part had been. When Niccolo da Castello, the ancestor of the Vitelli, returned to his country out of exile, he straightway pulled down the two fortresses built there by Pope Sixtus IV., perceiving that it was not by fortresses, but by the good-will of the people, that he could be maintained in his government.

But the most recent, and in all respects most noteworthy instance, and that which best demonstrates the futility of building, and the advantage of destroying fortresses, is what happened only the other day in Genoa. Every one knows how, in 1507, Genoa rose in rebellion against Louis XII. of France, who came in person and with all his forces to recover it; and after recovering it built there a citadel stronger than any before known, being, both from its position and from every other circumstance, most inaccessible to attack. For standing on the extremity of a hill, named by the Genoese Codefa, which juts out into the sea, it commanded the whole harbour and the greater part of the town. But, afterwards, in the year 1512, when the French were driven out of Italy, the Genoese, in spite of this citadel, again rebelled, and Ottaviano Fregoso assuming the government, after the greatest efforts, continued over a period of sixteen months, at last succeeded in reducing the citadel by famine. By all it was believed that he would retain it as a rock of refuge in case of any reverse of fortune, and by some he was advised to do so; but he, being a truly wise ruler, and knowing well that it is by the attachment of their subjects and not by the strength of their fortifications that princes are maintained in their governments, dismantled this citadel; and founding his authority, not upon material defences, but on his own valour and prudence, kept and still keeps it. And whereas, formerly, a force of a thousand foot-soldiers could effect a change in the government of Genoa, the enemies of Ottaviano have assailed him with ten thousand, without being able to harm him.

Here, then, we see that, while to dismantle this fortress occasioned Ottaviano no loss, its construction gave the French king no sort of advantage. For when he could come into Italy with an army, he could recover Genoa, though he had no citadel there; but when he could not come with an army, it was not in his power to hold the city by means of the citadel. Moreover it was costly for the king to build, and shameful for him to lose this fortress; while for Ottaviano it was glorious to take, and advantageous to destroy it.

Let us turn now to those republics which build fortresses not within their own territories, but in towns whereof they have taken possession. And if the above example of France and Genoa suffice not to show the futility of this course, that of Florence and Pisa ought, I think, to be conclusive. For in erecting fortresses to hold Pisa, the Florentines failed to perceive that a city which had always been openly hostile to them, which had lived in freedom, and which could cloak rebellion under the name of liberty, must, if it were to be retained at all, be retained by those methods which were used by the Romans, and either be made a companion or be destroyed. Of how little service these Pisan fortresses were, was seen on the coming of Charles VIII. of France into Italy, to whom, whether through the treachery of their defenders or from fear of worse evils, they were at once delivered up; whereas, had there been no fortresses in Pisa, the Florentines would not have looked to them as the means whereby the town was to be held; the king could not by their assistance have taken the town from the Florentines; and the methods whereby it had previously been preserved might, in all likelihood, have continued sufficient to preserve it; and, at any rate, had served that end no worse than the fortresses.

These, then, are the conclusions to which I come, namely, that fortresses built to hold your own country under are hurtful, and that those built to retain acquired territories are useless; and I am content to rely on the example of the Romans, who in the towns they sought to hold by the strong hand, rather pulled down fortresses than built them. And if any, to controvert these views of mine, were to cite the case of Tarentum in ancient times, or of Brescia in recent, as towns which when they rebelled were recovered by means of their citadels; I answer, that for the recovery of Tarentum, Fabius Maximus was sent at the end of a year with an army strong enough to retake it even had there been no fortress there; and that although he availed himself of the fortress for the recovery of the town, he might, without it, have resorted to other means which would have brought about the same result. Nor do I see of what service a citadel can be said to be, when to recover the city you must employ a consular army under a Fabius Maximus. But that the Romans would, in any case, have recovered Tarentum, is plain from what happened at Capua, where there was no citadel, and which they retook, simply by the valour of their soldiers.

Again, as regards Brescia, I say that the circumstances attending the revolt of that town were such as occur but seldom, namely, that the citadel remaining in your hands after the defection of the city, you should happen to have a great army nigh at hand, as the French had theirs on this occasion. For M. de Foix being in command of the king’s forces at Bologna, on hearing of the loss of Brescia, marched thither without an hour’s delay, and reaching Brescia in three days, retook the town with the help of the citadel. But here, again, we see that, to be of any service, the citadel of Brescia had to be succoured by a de Foix, and by that French army which in three days’ time marched to its relief. So that this instance cannot be considered conclusive as against others of a contrary tendency. For, in the course of recent wars, many fortresses have been taken and retaken, with the same variety of fortune with which open country has been acquired or lost; and this not only in Lombardy, but also in Romagna, in the kingdom of Naples, and in all parts of Italy.

And, further, touching the erection of fortresses as a defence against foreign enemies, I say that such defences are not needed by the prince or people who possess a good army; while for those who do not possess a good army, they are useless. For good armies without fortresses are in themselves a sufficient defence: whereas, fortresses without good armies avail nothing. And this we see in the case of those nations which have been thought to excel both in their government and otherwise, as, for instance, the Romans and the Spartans. For while the Romans would build no fortresses, the Spartans not merely abstained from building them, but would not even suffer their cities to be enclosed with walls; desiring to be protected by their own valour only, and by no other defence. So that when a Spartan was asked by an Athenian what he thought of the walls of Athens, he answered “that they were fine walls if meant to hold women only.”

If a prince who has a good army has likewise, on the sea-front of his dominions, some fortress strong enough to keep an enemy in check for a few days, until he gets his forces together, this, though not necessary, may sometimes be for his advantage. But for a prince who is without a strong army to have fortresses erected throughout his territories, or upon his frontier, is either useless or hurtful, since they may readily be lost and then turned against him; or, supposing them so strong that the enemy is unable to take them by assault, he may leave them behind, and so render them wholly unprofitable. For a brave army, unless stoutly met, enters an enemy’s country without regard to the towns or fortified places it leaves in its rear, as we read of happening in ancient times, and have seen done by Francesco Maria della Rovere, who no long while ago, when he marched against Urbino, made little of leaving ten hostile cities behind him.

The prince, therefore, who can bring together a strong army can do without building fortresses, while he who has not a strong army ought not to build them, but should carefully strengthen the city wherein he dwells, and keep it well stored with supplies, and its inhabitants well affected, so that he may resist attack till an accord be agreed on, or he be relieved by foreign aid. All other expedients are costly in time of peace, and in war useless.

Whoever carefully weighs all that has now been said will perceive, that the Romans, as they were most prudent in all their other methods, so also showed their wisdom in the measures they took with the men of Latium and Privernum, when, without ever thinking of fortresses, they sought security in bolder and more sagacious courses.

CHAPTER XXV. — That he who attacks a City divided against itself, must not think to get possession of it through its Divisions.

Violent dissensions breaking out in Rome between the commons and the nobles, it appeared to the Veientines and Etruscans that now was their time to deal a fatal blow to the Roman supremacy. Accordingly, they assembled an army and invaded the territories of Rome. The senate sent Caius Manlius and Marcus Fabius to meet them, whose forces encamping close by the Veientines, the latter ceased not to reproach and vilify the Roman name with every sort of taunt and abuse, and so incensed the Romans by their unmeasured insolence that, from being divided they became reconciled, and giving the enemy battle, broke and defeated them. Here, again, we see, what has already been noted, how prone men are to adopt wrong courses, and how often they miss their object when they think to secure it. The Veientines imagined that they could conquer the Romans by attacking them while they were at feud among themselves; but this very attack reunited the Romans and brought ruin on their assailants. For the causes of division in a commonwealth are, for the most part, ease and tranquillity, while the causes of union are fear and war. Wherefore, had the Veientines been wise, the more divided they saw Rome to be, the more should they have sought to avoid war with her, and endeavoured to gain an advantage over her by peaceful arts. And the best way to effect this in a divided city lies in gaining the confidence of both factions, and in mediating between them as arbiter so long as they do not come to blows; but when they resort to open violence, then to render some tardy aid to the weaker side, so as to plunge them deeper in hostilities, wherein both may exhaust their forces without being led by your putting forth an excess of strength to suspect you of a desire to ruin them and remain their master. Where this is well managed, it will almost always happen that you succeed in effecting the object you propose to yourself.

The city of Pistoja, as I have said already in connection with another matter, was won over to the Florentine republic by no other artifice than this. For the town being split by factions, the Florentines, by now favouring one side and now the other, without incurring the suspicions of either, brought both to such extremities that, wearied out with their harassed life, they threw themselves at last of their own accord into the arms of Florence. The city of Siena, again, has never made any change in her government which has had the support of the Florentines, save when that support has been slight and insignificant; for whenever the interference of Florence has been marked and decided, it has had the effect of uniting all parties in support of things as they stood.

One other instance I shall add to those already given. Oftener than once Filippo Visconti, duke of Milan, relying on their divisions, set wars on foot against the Florentines, and always without success; so that, in lamenting over these failures, he was wont to complain that the mad humours of the Florentines had cost him two millions of gold, without his having anything to show for it. The Veientines and Etruscans, therefore, as I have said already, were misled by false hopes, and in the end were routed by the Romans in a single pitched battle; and any who should look hereafter to prevail on like grounds and by similar means against a divided people, will always find themselves deceived.

CHAPTER XXVI. — That Taunts and Abuse breed Hatred against him who uses them, without yielding him any Advantage.

To abstain from threats and injurious language, is, methinks, one of the wisest precautions a man can use. For abuse and menace take nothing from the strength of an adversary; the latter only making him more cautious, while the former inflames his hatred against you, and leads him to consider more diligently how he may cause you hurt.

This is seen from the example of the Veientines, of whom I spoke in the last Chapter, who, to the injury of war against the Romans, added those verbal injuries from which all prudent commanders should compel their soldiers to refrain. For these are injuries which stir and kindle your enemy to vengeance, and yet, as has been said, in no way disable him from doing you hurt; so that, in truth, they are weapons which wound those who use them. Of this we find a notable instance in Asia, in connection with the siege of Amida. For Gabade, the Persian general, after besieging this town for a great while, wearied out at last by its protracted defence, determined on withdrawing his army; and had actually begun to strike his camp, when the whole inhabitants of the place, elated by their success, came out upon the walls to taunt and upbraid their enemies with their cowardice and meanness of spirit, and to load them with every kind of abuse. Stung by these insults, Gabade, changing his resolution, renewed the siege with such fury that in a few days he stormed and sacked the town. And the very same thing befell the Veientines, who, not content, as we have seen, to make war on the Romans with arms, must needs assail them with foul reproaches, advancing to the palisade of their camp to revile them, and molesting them more with their tongues than with their swords, until the Roman soldiers, who at first were most unwilling to fight, forced the consuls to lead them to the attack. Whereupon, the Veientines, like those others of whom mention has just now been made, had to pay the penalty of their insolence.

Wise captains of armies, therefore, and prudent governors of cities, should take all fit precautions to prevent such insults and reproaches from being used by their soldiers and subjects, either amongst themselves or against an enemy. For when directed against an enemy they lead to the mischiefs above noticed, while still worse consequences may follow from our not preventing them among ourselves by such measures as sensible rulers have always taken for that purpose.

The legions who were left behind for the protection of Capua having, as shall in its place be told, conspired against the Capuans, their conspiracy led to a mutiny, which was presently suppressed by Valerius Corvinus; when, as one of the conditions on which the mutineers made their submission, it was declared that whosoever should thereafter upbraid any soldier of these legions with having taken part in this mutiny, should be visited with the severest punishment. So likewise, when Tiberius Gracchus was appointed, during the war with Hannibal, to command a body of slaves, whom the Romans in their straits for soldiers had furnished with arms, one of his first acts was to pass an order making it death for any to reproach his men with their servile origin. So mischievous a thing did the Romans esteem it to use insulting words to others, or to taunt them with their shame. Whether this be done in sport or earnest, nothing vexes men more, or rouses them to fiercer indignation; “for the biting jest which flavours too much of truth, leaves always behind it a rankling memory.”

CHAPTER XXVII. — That prudent Princes and Republics should be content to have obtained a Victory; for, commonly, when they are not, theft-Victory turns to Defeat.

The use of dishonouring language towards an enemy is mostly caused by an insolent humour, bred by victory or the false hope of it, whereby men are oftentimes led not only to speak, but also to act amiss. For such false hopes, when they gain an entry into men’s minds, cause them to overrun their goal, and to miss opportunities for securing a certain good, on the chance of obtaining some thing better, but uncertain. And this, being a matter that deserves attention, because in deceiving themselves men often injure their country, I desire to illustrate it by particular instances, ancient and recent, since mere argument might not place it in so clear a light.

After routing the Romans at Cannæ, Hannibal sent messengers to Carthage to announce his victory, and to ask support. A debate arising in the Carthaginian senate as to what was to be done, Hanno, an aged and wise citizen, advised that they should prudently take advantage of their victory to make peace with the Romans, while as conquerors they might have it on favourable terms, and not wait to make it after a defeat; since it should be their object to show the Romans that they were strong enough to fight them, but not to peril the victory they had won in the hope of winning a greater. This advice was not followed by the Carthaginian senate, but its wisdom was well seen later, when the opportunity to act upon it was gone.

When the whole East had been overrun by Alexander of Macedon, the citizens of Tyre (then at the height of its renown, and very strong from being built, like Venice, in the sea), recognizing his greatness, sent ambassadors to him to say that they desired to be his good servants, and to yield him all obedience, yet could not consent to receive either him or his soldiers within their walls. Whereupon, Alexander, displeased that a single city should venture to close its gates against him to whom all the rest of the world had thrown theirs open, repulsed the Tyrians, and rejecting their overtures set to work to besiege their town. But as it stood on the water, and was well stored with victual and all other munitions needed for its defence, after four months had gone, Alexander, perceiving that he was wasting more time in an inglorious attempt to reduce this one city than had sufficed for most of his other conquests, resolved to offer terms to the Tyrians, and to make them those concessions which they themselves had asked. But they, puffed up by their success, not merely refused the terms offered, but put to death the envoy sent to propose them. Enraged by this, Alexander renewed the siege, and with such vigour, that he took and destroyed the city, and either slew or made slaves of its inhabitants.

In the year 1512, a Spanish army entered the Florentine territory, with the object of restoring the Medici to Florence, and of levying a subsidy from the town; having been summoned thither by certain of the citizens, who had promised them that so soon as they appeared within the Florentine confines they would arm in their behalf. But when the Spaniards had come into the plain of the Arno, and none declared in their favour, being in sore need of supplies, they offered to make terms. This offer the people of Florence in their pride rejected, and so gave occasion for the sack of Prato and the overthrow of the Florentine Republic.

A prince, therefore, who is attacked by an enemy much more powerful than himself, can make no greater mistake than to refuse to treat, especially when overtures are made to him; for however poor the terms offered may be, they are sure to contain some conditions advantageous for him who accepts them, and which he may construe as a partial success. For which reason it ought to have been enough for the citizens of Tyre that Alexander was brought to accept terms which he had at first rejected; and they should have esteemed it a sufficient triumph that, by their resistance in arms, they had forced so great a warrior to bow to their will. And, in like manner, it should have been a sufficient victory for the Florentines that the Spaniards had in part yielded to their wishes, and abated something of their own demands, the purport of which was to change the government of Florence, to sever her from her allegiance to France, and, further, to obtain money from her. For if of these three objects the Spaniards had succeeded in securing the last two, while the Florentines maintained the integrity of their government, a fair share of honour and contentment would have fallen to each. And while preserving their political existence, the Florentines should have made small account of the other two conditions; nor ought they, even with the possibility and almost certainty of greater advantages before them, to have left matters in any degree to the arbitration of Fortune, by pushing things to extremes, and incurring risks which no prudent man should incur, unless compelled by necessity.

Hannibal, when recalled by the Carthaginians from Italy, where for sixteen years he had covered himself with glory, to the defence of his native country, found on his arrival that Hasdrubal and Syphax had been defeated, the kingdom of Numidia lost, and Carthage confined within the limits of her walls, and left without other resource save in him and his army. Perceiving, therefore, that this was the last stake his country had to play, and not choosing to hazard it until he had tried every other expedient, he felt no shame to sue for peace, judging that in peace rather than in war lay the best hope of safety for his country. But, when peace was refused him, no fear of defeat deterred him from battle, being resolved either to conquer, if conquer he might, or if he must fall, to fall gloriously. Now, if a commander so valiant as Hannibal, at the head of an unconquered army, was willing to sue for peace rather than appeal to battle when he saw that by defeat his country must be enslaved, what course ought to be followed by another commander, less valiant and with less experience than he? But men labour under this infirmity, that they know not where to set bounds to their hopes, and building on these without otherwise measuring their strength, rush headlong on destruction.

CHAPTER XXVIII. — That to neglect the redress of Grievances, whether public or private, is dangerous for a Prince or Commonwealth.

Certain Gauls coming to attack Etruria, and more particularly Clusium its chief city, the citizens of Clusium sought aid from Rome; whereupon the Romans sent the three Fabii, as envoys to these Gauls, to notify to them, in the name of the Roman people, that they must refrain from making war on the Etruscans. From what befell the Romans in connection with this embassy, we see clearly how far men may be carried in resenting an affront. For these envoys arriving at the very moment when the Gauls and Etruscans were about to join battle, being readier at deeds than words, took part with the Etruscans and fought in their foremost ranks. Whence it came that the Gauls recognizing the Roman envoys, turned against the Romans all the hatred which before they had felt for the Etruscans; and grew still more incensed when on making complaint to the Roman senate, through their ambassador, of the wrong done them, and demanding that the Fabii should be given up to them in atonement for their offence, not merely were the offenders not given up or punished in any way, but, on the contrary, when the comitia met were created tribunes with consular powers. But when the Gauls found these men honoured who deserved to be chastised, they concluded that what had happened had been done by way of slight and insult to them, and, burning with fury and resentment, hastened forward to attack Rome, which they took with the exception of the Capitol.

Now this disaster overtook the Romans entirely from their disregard of justice. For their envoys, who had violated the law of nations, and had therefore deserved punishment, they had on the contrary treated with honour. And this should make us reflect, how carefully all princes and commonwealths ought to refrain from committing like wrongs, not only against communities, but also against particular men. For if a man be deeply wronged, either by a private hand or by a public officer, and be not avenged to his satisfaction, if he live in a republic, he will seek to avenge himself, though in doing so he bring ruin on his country; or if he live under a prince, and be of a resolute and haughty spirit, he will never rest until he has wreaked his resentment against the prince, though he knows it may cost him dear. Whereof we have no finer or truer example than in the death of Philip of Macedon, the father of Alexander. For Pausanias, a handsome and high-born youth belonging to Philip’s court, having been most foully and cruelly dishonoured by Attalus, one of the foremost men of the royal household, repeatedly complained to Philip of the outrage; who for a while put him off with promises of vengeance, but in the end, so far from avenging him, promoted Attalus to be governor of the province of Greece. Whereupon, Pausanias, seeing his enemy honoured and not punished, turned all his resentment from him who had outraged, against him who had not avenged him, and on the morning of the day fixed for the marriage of Philip’s daughter to Alexander of Epirus, while Philip walked between the two Alexanders, his son and his son-in-law, towards the temple to celebrate the nuptials, he slew him.

This instance nearly resembles that of the Roman envoys; and offers a warning to all rulers never to think so lightly of any man as to suppose, that when wrong upon wrong has been done him, he will not bethink himself of revenge, however great the danger he runs, or the punishment he thereby brings upon himself.

CHAPTER XXIX. — That Fortune obscures the minds of Men when she would not have them hinder her Designs.

If we note well the course of human affairs, we shall often find things come about and accidents befall, against which it seems to be the will of Heaven that men should not provide. And if this were the case even in Rome, so renowned for her valour, religion, and wise ordinances, we need not wonder if it be far more common in other cities and provinces wherein these safeguards are wanting.

Having here a notable opportunity to show how Heaven influences men’s actions, Titus Livius turns it to account, and treats the subject at large and in pregnant words, where he says, that since it was Heaven’s will, for ends of its own, that the Romans should feel its power, it first of all caused these Fabii, who were sent as envoys to the Gauls, to act amiss, and then by their misconduct stirred up the Gauls to make war on Rome; and, lastly, so ordered matters that nothing worthy of their name was done by the Romans to withstand their attack. For it was fore-ordained by Heaven that Camillus, who alone could supply the remedy to so mighty an evil, should be banished to Ardea; and again, that the citizens, who had often created a dictator to meet attacks of the Volscians and other neighbouring hostile nations, should fail to do so when the Gauls were marching upon Rome. Moreover, the army which the Romans got together was but a weak one, since they used no signal effort to make it strong; nay, were so dilatory in arming that they were barely in time to meet the enemy at the river Allia, though no more than ten miles distant from Rome. Here, again, the Roman tribunes pitched their camp without observing any of the usual precautions, attending neither to the choice of ground, nor to surround themselves with trench or Palisade, nor to avail themselves of any other aid, human or Divine. In ordering their army for battle, moreover, disposed it in weak columns, and these far apart: so that neither men nor officers accomplished anything worthy of the Roman discipline. The battle was bloodless for the Romans fled before they were attacked; most of them retreating to Veii, the rest to Rome, where, without turning aside to visit their homes, they made straight for the Capitol.

Meanwhile, the senate, so far from bethinking themselves how they might defend the city, did not even attend to closing the gates; and while some of them made their escape from Rome, others entered the Capitol along with those who sought shelter there. It was only in the defence of the Capitol that any method was observed, measures being taken to prevent it being crowded with useless numbers, and all the victual which could be got, being brought into it to enable it to stand a siege. Of the women, the children, and the men whose years unfitted them for service, the most part fled for refuge to the neighbouring towns, the rest remained in Rome a prey to the invaders; so that no one who had heard of the achievements of the Romans in past years, on being told of what took place on this occasion, could have believed that it was of the same people that things so contrary were related.

Wherefore, Titus Livius, after setting forth all these disorders, concludes with the words, “So far does Fortune darken men’s minds when she would not have her ascendency gainsaid.” Nor could any juster observation be made. And hence it is that those who experience the extremes whether of good or of evil fortune, are, commonly, little deserving either of praise or blame; since it is apparent that it is from Heaven having afforded them, or denied them opportunities for acting worthily, that they have been brought to their greatness or to their undoing. Fortune, doubtless, when she seeks to effect great ends, will often choose as her instrument a man of such sense and worth that he can recognize the opportunities which she holds out to him; and, in like manner, when she desires to bring about great calamities, will put forward such men as will of themselves contribute to that result. And all who stand in her way, she either removes by death, or deprives of the means of effecting good. And it is well seen in the passage we are considering, how Fortune, to aggrandize Rome, and raise her to the height she reached, judged it necessary, as shall be more fully shown in the following Book, to humble her; yet would not have her utterly undone. For which reason we find her causing Camillus to be banished, but not put to death; suffering Rome to be taken, but not the Capitol; and bringing it to pass that, while the Romans took no wise precaution for the defence of their city, they neglected none in defending their citadel. That Rome might be taken, Fortune caused the mass of the army, after the rout at the Allia, to direct its flight to Veii, thus withdrawing the means wherewith the city might have been defended; but while thus disposing matters, she at the same time prepared all the needful steps for its recovery, in bringing an almost entire Roman array to Veii, and Camillus to Ardea, so that a great force might be assembled for the rescue of their country, under a captain in no way compromised by previous reverses, but, on the contrary, in the enjoyment of an untarnished renown. I might cite many modern instances to confirm these opinions, but since enough has been said to convince any fair mind, I pass them over. But once more I repeat what, from all history, may be seen to be most true, that men may aid Fortune, but not withstand her; may interweave their threads with her web, but cannot break it But, for all that, they must never lose heart, since not knowing what their end is to be, and moving towards it by cross-roads and untravelled paths, they have always room for hope, and ought never to abandon it, whatsoever befalls, and into whatsoever straits they come.

CHAPTER XXX. — That really powerful Princes and, Commonwealths do not buy Friendships with Money, but with their Valour and the Fame of their Prowess.

When besieged in the Capitol, the Romans although expecting succour from Veii and from Camillus, nevertheless, being straitened by famine, entered into an agreement to buy off the Gauls with gold But at the very moment when, in pursuance of this agreement, the gold was being weighed out, Camillus came up with his army. This, says our historian, was contrived by Fortune, “that the Romans might not live thereafter as men ransomed for a price,” and the matter is noteworthy, not only with reference to this particular occasion, but also as it bears on the methods generally followed by this republic. For we never find Rome seeking to acquire towns, or to purchase peace with money, but always confiding in her own warlike valour, which could not, I believe, be said of any other republic.

Now, one of the tests whereby to gauge the strength of any State, is to observe on what terms it lives with its neighbours: for when it so carries itself that, to secure its friendship, its neighbours pay it tribute, this is a sure sign of its strength, but when its neighbours, though of less reputation, receive payments from it, this is a clear proof of its weakness In the course of the Roman history we read how the Massilians, the Eduans, the Rhodians, Hiero of Syracuse, the Kings Eumenes and Massinissa, all of them neighbours to the Roman frontiers, in order to secure the friendship of Rome, submitted to imposts and tribute whenever Rome had need of them, asking no return save her protection. But with a weak State we find the reverse of all this happening And, to begin with our own republic of Florence, we know that in times past, when she was at the height of her renown, there was never a lordling of Romagna who had not a subsidy from her, to say nothing of what she paid to the Perugians, to the Castellans, and to all her other neighbours But had our city been armed and strong, the direct contrary would have been the case, for, to obtain her protection, all would have poured money into her lap, not seeking to sell their friendship but to purchase hers.

Nor are the Florentines the only people who have lived on this dishonourable footing The Venetians have done the same, nay, the King of France himself, for all his great dominions, lives tributary to the Swiss and to the King of England; and this because the French king and the others named, with a view to escape dangers rather imaginary than real, have disarmed their subjects; seeking to reap a present gain by wringing money from them, rather than follow a course which would secure their own safety and the lasting welfare of their country. Which ill-practices of theirs, though they quiet things for a time, must in the end exhaust their resources, and give rise in seasons of danger to incurable mischief and disorder. It would be tedious to count up how often in the course of their wars, the Florentines, the Venetians, and the kingdom of France have had to ransom themselves from their enemies, and to submit to an ignominy to which, once only, the Romans were very near being subjected. It would be tedious, too, to recite how many towns have been bought by the Florentines and by the Venetians, which, afterwards, have only been a trouble to them, from their not knowing how to defend with iron what they had won with gold. While the Romans continued free they adhered to this more generous and noble method, but when they came under the emperors, and these, again, began to deteriorate, and to love the shade rather than the sunshine, they also took to purchasing peace, now from the Parthians, now from the Germans, and at other times from other neighbouring nations. And this was the beginning of the decline of their great empire.

Such are the evils that befall when you withhold arms from your subjects; and this course is attended by the still greater disadvantage, that the closer an enemy presses you the weaker he finds you. For any one who follows the evil methods of which I speak, must, in order to support troops whom he thinks can be trusted to keep off his enemies, be very exacting in his dealings with those of his subjects who dwell in the heart of his dominions; since, to widen the interval between himself and his enemies, he must subsidize those princes and peoples who adjoin his frontiers. States maintained on this footing may make a little resistance on their confines; but when these are passed by the enemy no further defence remains. Those who pursue such methods as these seem not to perceive that they are opposed to reason and common sense. For the heart and vital parts of the body, not the extremities, are those which we should keep guarded, since we may live on without the latter, but must die if the former be hurt. But the States of which I speak, leaving the heart undefended, defend only the hands and feet. The mischief which has thus been, and is at this day wrought in Florence is plain enough to see. For so soon as an enemy penetrates within her frontiers, and approaches her heart, all is over with her. And the same was witnessed a few years ago in the case of the Venetians, whose city, had it not been girdled by the sea, must then have found its end. In France, indeed, a like result has not been seen so often, she being so great a kingdom as to have few enemies mightier than herself. Nevertheless, when the English invaded France in the year 1513, the whole kingdom tottered; and the King himself, as well as every one else, had to own that a single defeat might have cost him his dominions.

But with the Romans the reverse of all this took place. For the nearer an enemy approached Rome, the more completely he found her armed for resistance; and accordingly we see that on the occasion of Hannibal’s invasion of Italy, the Romans, after three defeats, and after the slaughter of so many of their captains and soldiers, were still able, not merely to withstand the invader, but even, in the end, to come off victorious. This we may ascribe to the heart being well guarded, while the extremities were but little heeded. For the strength of Rome rested on the Roman people themselves, on the Latin league, on the confederate towns of Italy, and on her colonies, from all of which sources she drew so numerous an army, as enabled her to subdue the whole world and to keep it in subjection.

The truth of what I say may be further seen from the question put by Hanno the Carthaginian to the messengers sent to Carthage by Hannibal after his victory at Cannæ. For when these were vaunting the achievements of Hannibal, they were asked by Hanno whether any one had come forward on behalf of the Romans to propose terms of peace, and whether any town of the Latin league or of the colonized districts had revolted from the Romans. And when to both inquiries the envoys answered, “No,” Hanno observed that the war was no nearer an end than on the day it was begun.

We can understand, therefore, as well from what has now been said, as from what I have often said before, how great a difference there is between the methods followed by the republics of the present times, and those followed by the republics of antiquity; and why it is that we see every day astounding losses alternate with extraordinary gains. For where men are weak, Fortune shows herself strong; and because she changes, States and Governments change with her; and will continue to change, until some one arise, who, following reverently the example of the ancients, shall so control her, that she shall not have opportunity with every revolution of the sun to display anew the greatness of her power.

CHAPTER XXXI. — Of the Danger of trusting banished Men.

The danger of trusting those who are in exile from their own country, being one to which the rulers of States are often exposed, may, I think, be fitly considered in these Discourses; and I notice it the more willingly, because I am able to illustrate it by a memorable instance which Titus Livius, though with another purpose, relates in his history. When Alexander the Great passed with his army into Asia, his brother-in-law and uncle, Alexander of Epirus, came with another army into Italy, being invited thither by the banished Lucanians, who gave him to believe that, with their aid, he might get possession of the whole of that country. But when, confiding in the promises of these exiles, and fed by the hopes they held out to him, he came into Italy, they put him to death, their fellow-citizens having offered to restore them to their country upon this condition. It behoves us, therefore, to remember how empty are the promises, and how doubtful the faith, of men in banishment from their native land. For as to their faith, it may be assumed that whenever they can effect their return by other means than yours, notwithstanding any covenants they may have made with you, they will throw you over, and take part with their countrymen. And as for the empty promises and delusive hopes which they set before you, so extreme is their desire to return home that they naturally believe many things which are untrue, and designedly misrepresent many others; so that between their beliefs and what they say they believe, they fill you with false impressions, on which if you build, your labour is in vain, and you are led to engage in enterprises from which nothing but ruin can result.

To this instance of Alexander I shall add only one other, that, namely, of Themistocles the Athenian, who, being proclaimed a traitor, fled into Asia to Darius, to whom he made such lavish promises if he would only attack Greece, that he induced him to undertake the enterprise. But afterwards, when he could not fulfil what he had promised, either from shame, or through fear of punishment, he poisoned himself. But, if such a mistake as this was made by a man like Themistocles, we may reckon that mistakes still greater will be made by those who, being of a feebler nature, suffer themselves to be more completely swayed by their feelings and wishes Wherefore, let a prince be careful how he embarks in any enterprise on the representations of an exile; for otherwise, he is likely either to be put to shame, or to incur the gravest calamities.

Because towns are sometimes, though seldom, taken by craft, through secret practices had with their inhabitants, I think it not out of place to discuss the matter in the following Chapter, wherein I shall likewise show in how many ways the Romans were wont to make such acquisitions.

CHAPTER XXXII. — In how many Ways the Romans gained Possession of Towns.

Turning their thoughts wholly to arms, the Romans always conducted their military enterprises in the most advantageous way, both as to cost and every other circumstance of war. For which reason they avoided attempting towns by siege, judging the expense and inconvenience of this method of carrying on war greatly to outweigh any advantage to be gained by it. Accordingly, they thought it better and more for their interest to reduce towns in any other way than this; and in all those years during which they were constantly engaged in wars we find very few instances of their proceeding by siege.

For the capture of towns, therefore, they trusted either to assault or to surrender. Assaults were effected either by open force, or by force and stratagem combined. When a town was assailed by open force, the walls were stormed without being breached, and the assailants were said “aggredi urbem corona,” because they encircled the city with their entire strength and kept up an attack on all sides. In this way they often succeeded in carrying towns, and even great towns, at a first onset, as when Scipio took new Carthage in Spain. But when they failed to carry a town by storm, they set themselves to breach the walls with battering rams and other warlike engines; or they dug mines so as to obtain an entrance within the walls, this being the method followed in taking Veii; or else, to be on a level with the defenders, they erected towers of timber or threw up mounds of earth against the outside of the walls so as to reach the top.

Of these methods of attack, the first, wherein the city was entirely surrounded, exposed the defenders to more sudden perils and left them more doubtful remedies. For while it was necessary for them to have a sufficient force at all points, it might happen that the forces at their disposal were not numerous enough to be everywhere at once, or to relieve one another. Or if their numbers were sufficient, they might not all be equally resolute in standing their ground, and their failure at any one point involved a general defeat. Consequently, as I have said, this method of attack was often successful. But when it did not succeed at the first, it was rarely renewed, being a method dangerous to the attacking army, which having to secure itself along an extended line, was left everywhere too weak to resist a sally made from the town; nay, of itself, was apt to fall into confusion and disorder. This method of attack, therefore, could be attempted once only and by way of surprise.

Against breaches in the walls the defence was, as at the present day, to throw up new works; while mines were met by counter-mines, in which the enemy were either withstood at the point of the sword, or baffled by some other warlike contrivance; as by filling casks with feathers, which, being set on fire and placed in the mine, choked out the assailants by their smoke and stench. Where towers were employed for the attack, the defenders sought to destroy them with fire; and where mounds of earth were thrown up against the walls, they would dig holes at the base of the wall against which the mound rested, and carry off the earth which the enemy were heaping up; which, being removed from within as fast as it was thrown up from without, the mound made no progress.

None of these methods of attack can long be persisted in and the assailant, if unsuccessful, must either strike his camp and seek victory in some other direction, as Scipio did when he invaded Africa and, after failing in the attempt to storm Utica, withdrew from his attack on that town and turned his strength against the Carthaginian army in the field; or else recourse must be had to regular siege, as by the Romans at Veii, Capua, Carthage, Jerusalem, and divers other cities which they reduced in this way.

The capture of towns by stratagem combined with force is effected, as by the Romans at Palæopolis, through a secret understanding with some within the walls. Many attempts of this sort have been made, both by the Romans and by others, but few successfully, because the least hindrance disarranges the plan of action, and because such hindrances are very likely to occur. For either the plot is discovered before it can be carried out, as it readily may, whether from treachery on the part of those to whom it has been communicated, or from the difficulties which attend its inception, the preliminary arrangements having to be made with the enemy and with persons with whom it is not permitted, save under some pretext or other, to hold intercourse; or if it be not discovered while it is being contrived, a thousand difficulties will still be met with in its execution. For if you arrive either before or after the appointed time, all is ruined. The faintest sound, as of the cackling of the geese in the Capitol, the least departure from some ordinary routine, the most trifling mistake or error, mars the whole enterprise. Add to which, the darkness of night lends further terror to the perils of such undertakings; while the great majority of those engaged in them, having no knowledge of the district or places into which they are brought, are bewildered and disconcerted by the least mishap, and put to flight by every imaginary danger. In secret nocturnal enterprises of this sort, no man was ever more successful than Aratus of Sicyon, although in any encounter by day there never was a more arrant coward. This we must suppose due rather to some special and occult quality inherent in the man, than to success being naturally to be looked for in the like attempts. Such enterprises, accordingly, are often planned, but few are put into execution, and fewer still with success.

When cities are acquired by surrender, the surrender is either voluntary or under compulsion; voluntary, when the citizens appeal to you for protection against some threatened danger from without, as Capua submitted to the Romans; or where they are moved by a desire to be better governed, and are attracted by the good government which he to whom they surrender is seen exercising over others who have placed themselves in his hands; as was the case with the Rhodians, the Massilians, and others who for like causes gave themselves up to the Roman people. Compulsory surrenders take place, either as the result of a protracted siege, like those we have spoken of above; or from the country being continually wasted by incursions, forays, and similar severities, to escape which a city makes its submission.

Of the methods which have been noticed, the Romans, in preference to all others, used this last; and for four hundred and fifty years made it their aim to wear out their neighbours by invasion and by defeat in the open field, while endeavouring, as I have elsewhere said, to establish their influence over them by treaties and conventions. It was to this method of warfare therefore that they always mainly trusted, because, after trying all others, they found none so free from inconvenience and disadvantage — the procedure by siege involving expense and delay, that by assault, difficulty and danger, and that by secret practice, uncertainty and doubt. They found, likewise, that while in subduing one obstinate city by siege many years might be wasted, a kingdom might be gained in a single day by the defeat of a hostile army in the field.

CHAPTER XXXIII. — That the Romans intrusted the Captains of their Armies with the fullest Powers.

In reading this History of Titus Livius with a view to profit by it, I think that all the methods of conduct followed by the Roman people and senate merit attention. And among other things fit to be considered, it should be noted, with how ample an authority they sent forth their consuls, their dictators, and the other captains of their armies, all of whom we find clothed with the fullest powers: no other prerogative being reserved to itself by the senate save that of declaring war and making peace, while everything else was left to the discretion and determination of the consul. For so soon as the people and senate had resolved on war, for instance on a war against the Latins, they threw all further responsibility upon the consul, who might fight or decline battle as he pleased, and attack this or the other city as he thought fit.

That this was so, is seen in many instances, and especially from what happened during an expedition made against the Etruscans. For the consul Fabius having routed that people near Sutrium, and thinking to pass onward through the Ciminian forest into Etruria, so far from seeking the advice of the senate, gave them no hint whatever of his design, although for its execution the war had to be carried into a new, difficult, and dangerous country. We have further witness to the same effect, in the action taken in respect of this enterprise by the senate, who being informed of the victory obtained by Fabius, and apprehending that he might decide to pass onward through the aforesaid forest, and deeming it inexpedient that he should incur risk by attempting this invasion, sent two messengers to warn him not to enter Etruria. These messengers, however, did not come up with the consul until he had already made his way into that country and gained a second victory; when, instead of opposing his further advance, they returned to Rome to announce his good fortune and the glory which he had won.

Whoever, therefore, shall well consider the character of the authority whereof I speak, will see that it was most wisely accorded; since had it been the wish of the senate that a consul, in conducting a war, should proceed step by step as they might direct him, this must have made him at once less cautious and more dilatory; because the credit of victory would not then have seemed to be wholly his own, but shared by the senate on whose advice he acted. Besides which, the senate must have taken upon itself the task of advising on matters which it could not possibly understand; for although it might contain among its members all who were most versed in military affairs, still, since these men were not on the spot, and were ignorant of many particulars which, if they were to give sound advice, it was necessary for them to know, they must in advising have made numberless mistakes. For these reasons they desired that the consul should act on his own responsibility, and that the honours of success should be wholly his; judging that the love of fame would act on him at once as a spur and as a curb, making him do whatever he had to do well.

This matter I have the rather dwelt upon because I observe that our modern republics, such as the Venetian and the Florentine, view it in a different light; so that when their captains, commissaries, or provedditori have a single gun to place in position, the authorities at home must be informed and consulted; a course deserving the same approval as is due to all those other methods of theirs, which, one with another, have brought Italy to her present condition.

BOOK III.

* * * * *

CHAPTER I. — For a Sect or Commonwealth to last long, it must often be brought back to its Beginnings.

Doubtless, all the things of this world have a limit set to their duration; yet those of them the bodies whereof have not been suffered to grow disordered, but have been so cared for that either no change at all has been wrought in them, or, if any, a change for the better and not for the worse, will run that course which Heaven has in a general way appointed them. And since I am now speaking of mixed bodies, for States and Sects are so to be regarded, I say that for them these are wholesome changes which bring them back to their first beginnings.

Those States consequently stand surest and endure longest which, either by the operation of their institutions can renew themselves, or come to be renewed by accident apart from any design. Nothing, however, can be clearer than that unless thus renewed these bodies do not last. Now the way to renew them is, as I have said, to bring them back to their beginnings, since all beginnings of sects, commonwealths, or kingdoms must needs have in them a certain excellence, by virtue of which they gain their first reputation and make their first growth. But because in progress of time this excellence becomes corrupted, unless something be done to restore it to what it was at first, these bodies necessarily decay; for as the physicians tell us in speaking of the human body, “Something or other is daily added which sooner or later will require treatment.”

As regards commonwealths, this return to the point of departure is brought about either by extrinsic accident or by intrinsic foresight. As to the first, we have seen how it was necessary that Rome should be taken by the Gauls, that being thus in a manner reborn, she might recover life and vigour, and resume the observances of religion and justice which she had suffered to grow rusted by neglect. This is well seen from those passages of Livius wherein he tells us that when the Roman army was ‘sent forth against the Gauls, and again when tribunes were created with consular authority, no religious rites whatever were celebrated, and wherein he further relates how the Romans not only failed to punish the three Fabii, who contrary to the law of nations had fought against the Gauls, but even clothed them with honour. For, from these instances, we may well infer that the rest of the wise ordinances instituted by Romulus, and the other prudent kings, had begun to be held of less account than they deserved, and less than was essential for the maintenance of good government.

And therefore it was that Rome was visited by this calamity from without, to the end that all her ordinances might be reformed, and the people taught that it behoved them not only to maintain religion and justice, but also to esteem their worthy citizens, and to prize their virtues beyond any advantages of which they themselves might seem to have been deprived at their instance. And this, we find, was just the effect produced. For no sooner was the city retaken, than all the ordinances of the old religion were at once restored; the Fabii, who had fought in violation of the law of nations, were punished; and the worth and excellence of Camillus so fully recognized, that the senate and the whole people, laying all jealousies aside, once more committed to him the entire charge of public affairs.

It is necessary then, as I have said already, that where men dwell together in a regulated society, they be often reminded of those ordinances in conformity with which they ought to live, either by something inherent in these, or else by some external accident. A reminder is given in the former of these two ways, either by the passing of some law whereby the members of the society are brought to an account; or else by some man of rare worth arising among them, whose virtuous life and example have the same effect as a law. In a Commonwealth, accordingly, this end is served either by the virtues of some one of its citizens, or by the operation of its institutions.

The institutions whereby the Roman Commonwealth was led back to its starting point, were the tribuneship of the people and the censorship, together with all those laws which were passed to check the insolence and ambition of its citizens. Such institutions, however, require fresh life to be infused into them by the worth of some one man who fearlessly devotes himself to give them effect in opposition to the power of those who set them at defiance.

Of the laws being thus reinforced in Rome, before its capture by the Gauls, we have notable examples in the deaths of the sons of Brutus, of the Decemvirs, and of Manlius Frumentarius; and after its capture, in the deaths of Manlius Capitolinus, and of the son of Manlius Torquatus in the prosecution of his master of the knights by Papirius Cursor, and in the impeachment of the Scipios. Such examples as these, being signal and extraordinary, had the effect, whenever they took place, of bringing men back to the true standard of right; but when they came to be of rarer occurrence, they left men more leisure to grow corrupted, and were attended by greater danger and disturbance. Wherefore, between one and another of these vindications of the laws, no more than ten years, at most, ought to intervene; because after that time men begin to change their manners and to disregard the laws; and if nothing occur to recall the idea of punishment, and unless fear resume its hold on their minds, so many offenders suddenly spring up together that it is impossible to punish them without danger. And to this purport it used to be said by those who ruled Florence from the year 1434 to 1494, that their government could hardly be maintained unless it was renewed every five years; by which they meant that it was necessary for them to arouse the same terror and alarm in men’s minds, as they inspired when they first assumed the government, and when all who offended against their authority were signally chastised. For when the recollection of such chastisement has died out, men are emboldened to engage in new designs, and to speak ill of their rulers; for which the only remedy is to restore things to what they were at first.

A republic may, likewise, be brought back to its original form, without recourse to ordinances for enforcing justice, by the mere virtues of a single citizen, by reason that these virtues are of such influence and authority that good men love to imitate them, and bad men are ashamed to depart from them. Those to whom Rome owed most for services of this sort, were Horatius Cocles, Mutius Scævola, the two Decii, Atilius Regulus, and divers others, whose rare excellence and generous example wrought for their city almost the same results as might have been effected by ordinances and laws. And if to these instances of individual worth had been added, every ten years, some signal enforcement of justice, it would have been impossible for Rome ever to have grown corrupted. But when both of these incitements to virtuous behavior began to recur less frequently, corruption spread, and after the time of Atilius Regulus, no like example was again witnessed. For though the two Catos came later, so great an interval had elapsed before the elder Cato appeared, and again, so long a period intervened between him and the younger, and these two, moreover, stood so much alone, that it was impossible for them, by their influence, to work any important change; more especially for the younger, who found Rome so much corrupted that he could do nothing to improve his fellow-citizens.

This is enough to say concerning commonwealths, but as regards sects, we see from the instance of our own religion that here too a like renewal is needed. For had not this religion of ours been brought back to its original condition by Saint Francis and Saint Dominick, it must soon have been utterly extinguished. They, however, by their voluntary poverty, and by their imitation of the life of Christ, rekindled in the minds of men the dying flame of faith; and by the efficacious rules which they established averted from our Church that ruin which the ill lives of its prelates and heads must otherwise have brought upon it. For living in poverty, and gaining great authority with the people by confessing them and preaching to them, they got them to believe that it is evil to speak ill even of what is evil; and that it is good to be obedient to rulers, who, if they do amiss, may be left to the judgment of God. By which teaching these rulers are encouraged to behave as badly as they can, having no fear of punishments which they neither see nor credit. Nevertheless, it is this renewal which has maintained, and still maintains, our religion.

Kingdoms also stand in need of a like renewal, and to have their laws restored to their former force; and we see how, by attending to this, the kingdom of France has profited. For that kingdom, more than any other, lies under the control of its laws and ordinances, which are maintained by its parliaments, and more especially by the parliament of Paris, from which last they derive fresh vigour whenever they have to be enforced against any prince of the realm; for this assembly pronounces sentence even against the king himself. Heretofore this parliament has maintained its name as the fearless champion of the laws against the nobles of the land; but should it ever at any future time suffer wrongs to pass unpunished, and should offences multiply, either these will have to be corrected with great disturbance to the State, or the kingdom itself must fall to pieces.

This, then, is our conclusion — that nothing is so necessary in any society, be it a religious sect, a kingdom, or a commonwealth, as to restore to it that reputation which it had at first, and to see that it is provided either with wholesome laws, or with good men whose actions may effect the same ends, without need to resort to external force. For although this last may sometimes, as in the case of Rome, afford an efficacious remedy, it is too hazardous a remedy to make us ever wish to employ it.

And that all may understand how much the actions of particular citizens helped to make Rome great, and how many admirable results they wrought in that city, I shall now proceed to set them forth and examine them; with which survey this Third Book of mine, and last division of the First Decade of Titus Livius, shall be brought to a close. But, although great and notable actions were done by the Roman kings, nevertheless, since history has treated of these at much length, here I shall pass them over, and say no more about these princes, save as regards certain things done by them with an eye to their private interest. I shall begin, therefore, with Brutus, the father of Roman freedom.

CHAPTER II. — That on occasion it is wise to feign Folly.

Never did any man by the most splendid achievements gain for himself so great a name for wisdom and prudence as is justly due to Junius Brutus for feigning to be a fool. And although Titus Livius mentions one cause only as having led him to assume this part, namely, that he might live more securely and look after his patrimony; yet on considering his behavior we may believe that in counterfeiting folly it was also his object to escape notice, and so find better convenience to overthrow the kings, and to free his country whenever an occasion offered. That this was in his mind is seen first of all from the interpretation he gave to the oracle of Apollo, when, to render the gods favourable to his designs, he pretended to stumble, and secretly kissed his mother earth; and, again, from this, that on the death of Lucretia, though her father, her husband, and others of her kinsmen were present, he was the first to draw the dagger from her wound, and bind the bystanders by oath never more to suffer king to reign in Rome.

From his example all who are discontented with their prince are taught, first of all, to measure, and to weigh their strength, and if they find themselves strong enough to disclose their hostility and proclaim open war, then to take that course as at once the nobler and less dangerous; but, if too weak to make open war, then sedulously to court the favour of the prince, using to that end all such methods as they may judge needful, adapting themselves to his pleasures, and showing delight in whatever they see him delight in. Such an intimacy, in the first place, enables you to live securely, and permits you, without incurring any risk, to share the happy fortunes of the prince, while it affords you every facility for carrying out your plans. Some, no doubt, will tell you that you should not stand so near the prince as to be involved in his downfall; nor yet at such a distance that when he falls you shall be too far off to use the occasion for rising on his ruin. But although this mean course, could we only follow it, were certainly the best, yet, since I believe it to be impracticable, we must resort to the methods above indicated, and either keep altogether aloof, or else cleave closely to the prince. Whosoever does otherwise, if he be of great station, lives in constant peril; nor will it avail him to say, “I concern myself with nothing; I covet neither honours nor preferment; my sole wish is to live a quiet and peaceful life.” For such excuses, though they be listened to, are not accepted; nor can any man of great position, however much and sincerely he desire it, elect to live this life of tranquillity since his professions will not be believed; so that although he might be contented to be let alone, others will not suffer him to be so. Wherefore, like Brutus, men must feign folly; and to play the part effectively, and so as to please their prince, must say, do, see, and praise things contrary to their inclinations.

But now, having spoken of the prudence shown by Brutus when he sought to recover the freedom of Rome, let us next speak of the severity which he used to maintain it.

CHAPTER III. — That to preserve a newly acquired Freedom we must slay the Sons of Brutus.

The severity used by Brutus in preserving for Rome the freedom he had won for her, was not less necessary than useful. The spectacle of a father sitting on the judgment, and not merely sentencing his own sons to death, but being himself present at their execution, affords an example rare in history. But those who study the records of ancient times will understand, that after a change in the form of a government, whether it be from a commonwealth to a tyranny or from a tyranny to a commonwealth, those who are hostile to the new order of things must always be visited with signal punishment. So that he who sets up as a tyrant and slays not Brutus, and he who creates a free government and slays not the sons of Brutus, can never maintain himself long. But since I have elsewhere treated of this matter at large, I shall merely refer to what has there been said concerning it, and shall cite here one instance only, happening in our own days, and memorable in the history of our country.

I speak of Piero Soderini, who thought by his patience and goodness to overcome the very same temper which prompted the sons of Brutus to revert to the old government, and who failed in the endeavour. For although his sagacity should have taught him the necessity, while chance and the ambition of those who attacked him furnished him with the opportunity of making an end of them, he never could resolve to strike the blow; and not merely believed himself able to subdue disaffection by patience and kindness, and to mitigate the enmity of particular men by the rewards he held out to them, but also persuaded himself, and often declared in the presence of his friends, that he could not confront opposition openly, nor crush his adversaries, without assuming extraordinary powers and passing laws destructive of civil equality; which measures, although not afterward used by him for tyrannical ends, would so alarm the community, that after his death they would never again consent to appoint a Gonfalonier for life, an office which he judged it essential both to maintain and strengthen. Now although these scruples of his were wise and good, we ought never out of regard for what is good, to suffer an evil to run its course, since it may well happen that the evil will prevail over the good. And Piero should have believed that as his acts and intentions were to be judged by results, he might, if he lived and if fortune befriended him, have made it clear to all, that what he did was done to preserve his country, and not from personal ambition; and he might have so contrived matters that no successor of his could ever turn to bad ends the means which he had used for good ends. But he was misled by a preconceived opinion, and failed to understand that ill-will is not to be vanquished by time nor propitiated by favours. And, so, from not knowing how to resemble Brutus, he lost power, and fame, and was driven an exile from his country.

That it is as hard a matter to preserve a princedom as it is to preserve a commonwealth, will be shown in the Chapter following.

CHAPTER IV. — That an Usurper is never safe in his Princedom while those live whom he has deprived of it.

From what befell the elder Tarquin at the hands of the sons of Ancus, and Servius Tullius at the hands of Tarquin the Proud, we see what an arduous and perilous course it is to strip a king of his kingdom and yet suffer him to live on, hoping to conciliate him by benefits. We see, too, how the elder Tarquin was ruined by his belief that he held the kingdom by a just title, since it had been given him by the people and confirmed to him by the senate, never suspecting that the sons of Ancus would be so stirred by resentment that it would be impossible to content them with what contented all the rest of Rome. Servius Tullius again, was ruined through believing that he could conciliate the sons of Ancus by loading them with favours.

By the fate of the first of these kings every prince may be warned that he can never live securely in his princedom so long as those from whom he has taken it survive; while the fate of the second should remind all rulers that old injuries are not to be healed by subsequent benefits, and least of all when the new benefit is less in degree than the injury suffered. And, truly, Servius was wanting in wisdom when he imagined that the sons of Tarquin would contentedly resign themselves to be the sons-in-law of one whom they thought should be their subject. For the desire to reign is so prevailing a passion, that it penetrates the minds not only of those who are rightful heirs, but also of those who are not; as happened with the wife of the younger Tarquin, who was daughter to Servius, but who, possessed by this madness, and setting at naught all filial duty, incited her husband to take her father’s kingdom, and with it his life; so much nobler did she esteem it to be a queen than the daughter of a king. But while the elder Tarquin and Servius Tullius lost the kingdom from not knowing how to secure themselves against those whom they had deprived of it, the younger Tarquin lost it from not observing the ordinances of the old kings, as shall be shown in the following Chapter.

CHAPTER V. — How an Hereditary King may come to lose his Kingdom.

Tarquin the Proud, when he had put Servius Tullius to death, inasmuch as the latter left no heirs, took secure possession of the kingdom, having nothing to fear from any of those dangers which had stood in the way of his predecessors. And although the means whereby he made himself king were hateful and monstrous, nevertheless, had he adhered to the ancient ordinances of the earlier kings, he might have been endured, nor would he have aroused both senate and people to combine against him and deprive him of his government. It was not, therefore, because his son Sextus violated Lucretia that Tarquin was driven out, but because he himself had violated the laws of the kingdom, and governed as a tyrant, stripping the senate of all authority, and bringing everything under his own control. For all business which formerly had been transacted in public, and with the sanction of the senate, he caused to be transacted in his palace, on his own responsibility, and to the displeasure of every one else, and so very soon deprived Rome of whatever freedom she had enjoyed under her other kings.

Nor was it enough for him to have the Fathers his enemies, but he must needs also kindle the commons against him, wearing them out with mere mechanic labours, very different from the enterprises in which they had been employed by his predecessors; so that when Rome overflowed with instances of his cruelty and pride, he had already disposed the minds of all the citizens to rebel whenever they found the opportunity. Wherefore, had not occasion offered in the violence done to Lucretia, some other had soon been found to bring about the same result. But had Tarquin lived like the other kings, when Sextus his son committed that outrage, Brutus and Collatinus would have had recourse to him to punish the offender, and not to the commons of Rome. And hence let princes learn that from the hour they first violate those laws, customs, and usages under which men have lived for a great while, they begin to weaken the foundations of their authority. And should they, after they have been stripped of that authority, ever grow wise enough to see how easily princedoms are preserved by those who are content to follow prudent counsels, the sense of their loss will grieve them far more, and condemn them to a worse punishment than any they suffer at the hands of others. For it is far easier to be loved by good men than by bad, and to obey the laws than to seek to control them.

And to learn what means they must use to retain their authority, they have only to take example by the conduct of good princes, such as Timoleon of Corinth, Aratus of Sicyone, and the like, in whose lives they will find such security and content, both on the side of the ruler and the ruled, as ought to stir them with the desire to imitate them, which, for the reasons already given, it is easy for them to do. For men, when they are well governed, ask no more, nor look for further freedom; as was the case with the peoples governed by the two whom I have named, whom they constrained to continue their rulers while they lived, though both of them sought repeatedly to return to private life.

But because, in this and the two preceding Chapters, I have noticed the ill-will which arose against the kings, the plots contrived by the sons of Brutus against their country, and those directed against the elder Tarquin and Servius Tullius, it seems to me not out of place to discourse of these matters more at length in the following Chapter, as deserving the attention both of princes and private citizens.

CHAPTER VI. — Of Conspiracies.

It were an omission not to say something on the subject of conspiracies, these being a source of much danger both to princes and to private men. For we see that many more princes have lost their lives and states through these than in open warfare; power to wage open war upon a prince being conceded to few, whereas power to conspire against him is denied to none. On the other hand, since conspiracies are attended at every stage by difficulties and dangers, no more hazardous or desperate undertakings can be engaged in by any private citizen; whence it comes that while many conspiracies are planned, few effect their object. Wherefore, to put princes on their guard against these dangers, and to make subjects more cautious how they take part in them, and rather learn to live content under whatever government fortune has assigned them, I shall treat of them at length, without omitting any noteworthy circumstance which may serve for the instruction of either. Though, indeed, this is a golden sentence Of Cornelius Tacitus, wherein he says that “the past should have our reverence, the present our obedience, and that we should wish for good princes, but put up with any.” For assuredly whosoever does otherwise is likely to bring ruin both on himself and on his country.

But, to go deeper into the matter, we have first of all to examine against whom conspiracies are directed; and we shall find that men conspire either against their country or their prince; and it is of these two kinds of conspiracy that at present I desire to speak. For of conspiracies which have for their object the surrender of cities to enemies who are besieging them, and of all others contrived for like ends, I have already said enough.

First, then, I shall treat of those conspiracies which are directed against a prince, and begin by inquiring into their causes, which are manifold, but of which one is more momentous than all the rest; I mean, the being hated by the whole community. For it may reasonably be assumed, that when a prince has drawn upon himself this universal hatred, he must also have given special offence to particular men, which they will be eager to avenge. And this eagerness will be augmented by the feeling of general ill-will which the prince is seen to have incurred. A prince ought, therefore, to avoid this load of public hatred. How he is to do so I need not stop here to explain, having discussed the matter already in another place; but if he can guard against this, offence given to particular men will expose him to but few attacks. One reason being, that there are few men who think so much of an injury done them as to run great risks to revenge it; another, that assuming them to have both the disposition and the courage to avenge themselves, they are restrained by the universal favour which they see entertained towards the prince.

Injuries are either to a man’s life, to his property, or to his honour. As regards the first, they who threaten injuries to life incur more danger than they who actually inflict them; or rather, while great danger is incurred in threatening, none at all is incurred from inflicting such injuries. For the dead are past thinking of revenge; and those who survive, for the most part leave such thoughts to the dead. But he whose life is threatened, finding himself forced by necessity either to do or suffer, becomes a man most dangerous to the prince, as shall be fully explained hereafter.

After menaces to life, injuries to property and honour stir men more than any others, and of these a Prince has most to beware. For he can never strip a man so bare of his possessions as not to leave him some weapon wherewith to redress his wrongs, nor ever so far dishonour him as to quell the stubborn spirit which prompts revenge. Of all dishonours those done to the women of a household are the worst; after which come such personal indignities as nerved the arm of Pausanias against Philip of Macedon, and of many another against other princes; and, in our own days, it was no other reason that moved Giulio Belanti to conspire against Pandolfo, lord of Siena, than that Pandolfo, who had given him his daughter to wife, afterwards took her from him, as presently shall be told. Chief among the causes which led the Pazzi to conspire against the Medici, was the law passed by the latter depriving them of the inheritance of Giovanni Bonromei.

Another most powerful motive to conspire against a prince is the desire men feel to free their country from a usurper. This it was which impelled Brutus and Cassius to conspire against Cæsar, and countless others against such tyrants as Phalaris, Dionysius, and the like. Against this humour no tyrant can guard, except by laying down his tyranny; which as none will do, few escape an unhappy end. Whence the verses of Juvenal: —

“Few tyrants die a peaceful death, and few
 The kings who visit Proserpine’s dread lord,
 Unscathed by wounds and blood.”

Great, as I have said already, are the dangers which men run in conspiring; for at all times they are in peril, whether in contriving, in executing, or after execution. And since in conspiracies either many are engaged, or one only (for although it cannot properly be said of one man that he conspires, there may exist in him the fixed resolve to put the prince to death), it is only the solitary plotter who escapes the first of these three stages of danger. For he runs no risk before executing his design, since as he imparts it to none, there is none to bring it to the ear of the prince. A deliberate resolve like this may be conceived by a person in any rank of life, high or low, base or noble, and whether or no he be the familiar of his prince. For every one must, at some time or other, have leave to speak to the prince, and whoever has this leave has opportunity to accomplish his design. Pausanias, of whom we have made mention so often, slew Philip of Macedon as he walked between his son and his son-in-law to the temple, surrounded by a thousand armed guards. Pausanias indeed was noble, and known to the prince, but Ferdinand of Spain was stabbed in the neck by a poor and miserable Spaniard; and though the wound was not mortal, it sufficed to show that neither courage nor opportunity were wanting to the would-be-assassin. A Dervish, or Turkish priest, drew his scimitar on Bajazet, father of the Sultan now reigning, and if he did not wound him, it was from no lack either of daring or of opportunity. And I believe that there are many who in their minds desire the deed, no punishment or danger attending the mere wish, though there be but few who dare do it. For since few or none who venture, escape death, few are willing to go forward to certain destruction.

But to pass from these solitary attempts to those in which several are engaged, I affirm it to be shown by history that all such plots have been contrived by men of great station, or by those who have been on terms of close intimacy with the prince, since no others, not being downright madmen, would ever think of conspiring. For men of humble rank, and such as are not the intimates of their prince, are neither fed by the hopes nor possessed of the opportunities essential for such attempts. Because, in the first place, men of low degree will never find any to keep faith with them, none being moved to join in their schemes by those expectations which encourage men to run great risks; wherefore, so soon as their design has been imparted to two or three, they are betrayed and ruined. Or, assuming them fortunate enough to have no traitor of their number, they will be so hampered in the execution of their plot by the want of easy access to the prince, that they are sure to perish in the mere attempt. For if even men of great position, who have ready access to the prince, succumb to the difficulties which I shall presently notice, those difficulties must be infinitely increased in the case of men who are without these advantages. And because when life and property are at stake men are not utterly reckless, on perceiving themselves to be weak they grow cautious, and though cursing the tyrant in their hearts, are content to endure him, and to wait until some one of higher station than they, comes forward to redress their wrongs. So that should we ever find these weaklings attempting anything, we may commend their courage rather than their prudence.

We see, however, that the great majority of conspirators have been persons of position and the familiars of their prince, and that their plots have been as often the consequence of excessive indulgence as of excessive injury; as when Perennius conspired against Commodus, Plautianus against Severus, and Sejanus against Tiberius; all of whom had been raised by their masters to such wealth, honours, and dignities, that nothing seemed wanting to their authority save the imperial name. That they might not lack this also, they fell to conspiring against their prince; but in every instance their conspiracies had the end which their ingratitude deserved.

The only instance in recent times of such attempts succeeding, is the conspiracy of Jacopo IV. d’Appiano against Messer Piero Gambacorti, lord of Pisa. For Jacopo, who had been bred and brought up by Piero, and loaded by him with honours, deprived him of his State. Similar to this, in our own days, was the conspiracy of Coppola against King Ferdinand of Aragon. For Coppola had reached such a pitch of power that he seemed to himself to have everything but sovereignty; in seeking to obtain which he lost his life; though if any plot entered into by a man of great position could be expected to succeed, this certainly might, being contrived, as we may say, by another king, and by one who had the amplest opportunities for its accomplishment. But that lust of power which blinds men to dangers darkened the minds of those to whom the execution of the scheme was committed; who, had they only known how to add prudence to their villainy, could hardly have missed their aim.

The prince, therefore, who would guard himself against plots, ought more to fear those men to whom he has been too indulgent, than those to whom he has done great wrongs. For the latter lack opportunities which the former have in abundance; and the moving cause is equally strong in both, lust of power being at least as strong a passion as lust of revenge. Wherefore, a prince should entrust his friends with so much authority only as leaves a certain interval between his position and theirs; that between the two something be still left them to desire. Otherwise it will be strange if he do not fare like those princes who have been named above.

But to return from this digression, I say, that having shown it to be necessary that conspirators should be men of great station, and such as have ready access to the prince, we have next to consider what have been the results of their plots, and to trace the causes which have made them succeed or fail. Now, as I have said already, we find that conspiracies are attended by danger at three stages: before during, and after their execution; for which reason very few of them have had a happy issue; it being next to impossible to surmount all these different dangers successfully. And to begin with those which are incurred beforehand, and which are graver than all the rest, I say that he must be both very prudent and very fortunate who, when contriving a conspiracy, does not suffer his secret to be discovered.

Conspiracies are discovered either by disclosures made, or by conjecture. Disclosures are made through the treachery or folly of those to whom you communicate your design. Treachery is to be looked for, because you can impart your plans only to such persons as you believe ready to face death on your behalf, or to those who are discontented with the prince. Of men whom you can trust thus implicitly, one or two may be found; but when you have to open your designs to many, they cannot all be of this nature; and their goodwill towards you must be extreme if they are not daunted by the danger and by fear of punishment. Moreover men commonly deceive themselves in respect of the love which they imagine others bear them, nor can ever be sure of it until they have put it to the proof. But to make proof of it in a matter like this is very perilous; and even if you have proved it already, and found it true in some other dangerous trial, you cannot assume that there will be the same fidelity here, since this far transcends every other kind of danger. Again, if you gauge a man’s fidelity by his discontent with the prince, you may easily deceive yourself; for so soon as you have taken this discontented man into your confidence, you have supplied him with the means whereby he may become contented; so that either his hatred of the prince must be great indeed, or your influence over him extraordinary, if it keep him faithful. Hence it comes that so many conspiracies have been discovered and crushed in their earliest stage, and that when the secret is preserved among many accomplices for any length of time, it is looked on as a miracle; as in the case of the conspiracy of Piso against Nero, and, in our own days, in that of the Pazzi against Lorenzo and Giuliano de’ Medici; which last, though more than fifty persons were privy to it, was not discovered until it came to be carried out.

Conspiracies are disclosed through the imprudence of a conspirator when he talks so indiscreetly that some servant, or other person not in the plot, overhears him; as happened with the sons of Brutus, who, when treating with the envoys of Tarquin, were overheard by a slave, who became their accuser; or else through your own weakness in imparting your secret to some woman or boy whom you love, or to some other such light person; as when Dymnus, who was one of those who conspired with Philotas against Alexander the Great, revealed the plot to Nicomachus, a youth whom he loved, who at once told Cebalinus, and Cebalinus the king.

Of discoveries by conjecture we have an instance in the conspiracy of Piso against Nero; for Scaevinus, one of the conspirators, the day before he was to kill Nero, made his will, liberated all his slaves and gave them money, and bade Milichus, his freedman, sharpen his old rusty dagger, and have bandages ready for binding up wounds. From all which preparations Milichus conjecturing what work was in hand, accused Scaevinus before Nero; whereupon Scaevinus was arrested, and with him Natalis, another of the conspirators, who the day before had been seen to speak with him for a long time in private; and when the two differed in their account of what then passed between them, they were put to the torture and forced to confess the truth. In this way the conspiracy was brought to light, to the ruin of all concerned.

Against these causes of the discovery of conspiracies it is impossible so to guard as that either through treachery, want of caution, or levity, the secret shall not be found out, whenever more than three or four persons are privy to it. And whenever more than one conspirator is arrested, the plot is certain to be detected, because no two persons can perfectly agree in a false account of what has passed between them. If only one be taken, should he be a man of resolute courage, he may refuse to implicate his comrades; but they on their part must have no less courage, to stay quiet where they are, and not betray themselves by flight; for if courage be absent anywhere, whether in him who is taken or in those still at large, the conspiracy is revealed. And what is related by Titus Livius as having happened in the conspiracy against Hieronymus, tyrant of Syracuse, is most extraordinary, namely, that on the capture of one of the conspirators, named Theodorus, he, with great fortitude, withheld the names of all his accomplices, and accused friends of the tyrant; while his companions, on their part, trusted so completely in his courage, that not one of them quitted Syracuse or showed any sign of fear.

All these dangers, therefore, which attend the contrivance of a plot, must be passed through before you come to its execution; or if you would escape them, you must observe the following precautions: Your first and surest, nay, to say truth, your only safeguard, is to leave your accomplices no time to accuse you; for which reason you must impart the affair to them, only at the moment when you mean it to be carried out, and not before. Those who have followed this course have wholly escaped the preliminary dangers of conspiracies, and, generally speaking, the others also; indeed, I may say that they have all succeeded, and that it is open to every prudent man to act as they did. It will be enough to give two instances of plots effected in this way. Nelematus, unable to endure the tyranny of Aristotimus, despot of Epirus, assembling many of his friends and kinsmen in his house, exhorted them to free their country; and when some of them asked for time to consider and mature their plans, he bade his slaves close the doors, and told those assembled that unless they swore to go at once and do as he directed he would make them over to Aristotimus as prisoners. Alarmed by his threats, they bound themselves by a solemn oath, and going forth at once and without delay, successfully carried out his bidding. A certain Magus having fraudulently usurped the throne of Persia; Ortanes, a grandee of that realm, discovering the fraud, disclosed it to six others of the chief nobility, telling them that it behoved them to free the kingdom from the tyranny of this impostor. And when some among them asked for time, Darius, who was one of the six summoned by Ortanes, stood up and said, “Either we go at once to do this deed, or I go to the Magus to accuse you all.” Whereupon, all rising together, without time given to any to change his mind, they went forth and succeeded in effecting their end. Not unlike these instances was the plan taken by the Etolians to rid themselves of Nabis, the Spartan tyrant, to whom, under pretence of succouring him, they sent Alasamenes, their fellow-citizen, with two hundred foot soldiers and thirty horsemen. For they imparted their real design to Alasamenes only, charging the rest, under pain of exile, to obey him in whatever he commanded. Alasamenes repaired to Sparta, and never divulged his commission till the time came for executing it; and so succeeded in putting Nabis to death.

It was, therefore, by the precautions they observed, that the persons of whom I have just now spoken escaped all those perils that attend the contrivance of conspiracies; and any following their example may expect the like good fortune. And that all may learn to do as they did I shall notice the case of Piso, of which mention has before been made. By reason of his rank, his reputation, and the intimate terms on which he lived with Nero, who trusted him without reserve, and would often come to his garden to sup with him, Piso was able to gain the friendship of many persons of spirit and courage, and well fitted in every way to take part in his plot against the emperor, which, under these circumstances, might easily have been carried out. For when Nero came to his garden, Piso could readily have communicated his design to those friends of his, and with suitable words have encouraged them to do what, in fact, they would not have had time to withdraw from, and was certain to succeed. And were we to examine all similar attempts, it would be seen that there are few which might not have been effected in the manner shown. But since most men are very ignorant of practical affairs, they commit the gravest blunders, especially in matters which lie, as this does, a little way out of the beaten track.

Wherefore, the contriver of a plot ought never, if he can help it, to communicate his design until the moment when it is to be executed; or if he must communicate it, then to some one man only, with whom he has long been intimate, and whom he knows to be moved by the same feelings as himself. To find one such person is far easier than to find several, and, at the same time, involves less risk; for though this one man play you false, you are not left altogether without resource, as you are when your accomplices are numerous. For I have heard it shrewdly said that to one man you may impart anything, since, unless you have been led to commit yourself by writing, your denial will go as far as his assertion. Shun writing, therefore, as you would a rock, for there is nothing so damning as a letter under your own hand.

Plautianus, desiring to procure the deaths of the Emperor Severus and his son Caracalla, intrusted the business to the tribune Saturninus, who, being more disposed to betray than obey Plautianus, but at the same time afraid that, if it came to laying a charge, Plautianus might be believed sooner than he, asked him for a written authority, that his commission might be credited. Blinded by ambition, Plautianus complied, and forthwith was accused by Saturninus and found guilty; whereas, but for that written warrant, together with other corroborating proofs, he must have escaped by his bold denial of the charge. Against the testimony of a single witness, you have thus some defence, unless convicted by your own handwriting, or by other circumstantial proof against which you must guard. A woman, named Epicharis, who had formerly been a mistress of Nero, was privy to Piso’s conspiracy, and thinking it might be useful to have the help of a certain captain of triremes whom Nero had among his body-guards, she acquainted him with the plot, but not with the names of the plotters. This fellow, turning traitor, and accusing Epicharis to Nero, so stoutly did she deny the charge, that Nero, confounded by her effrontery, let her go.

In imparting a plot to a single person there are, therefore, two risks: one, that he may come forward of his own accord to accuse you; the other, that if arrested on suspicion, or on some proof of his guilt, he may, on being convicted, in the hope to escape punishment, betray you. But in neither of these dangers are you left without a defence; since you may meet the one by ascribing the charge to the malice of your accuser, and the other by alleging that the witness his been forced by torture to say what is untrue. The wisest course, however, is to impart your design to none, but to act like those who have been mentioned above; or if you impart it, then to one only: for although even in this course there be a certain degree of danger, it is far less than when many are admitted to your confidence.

A case nearly resembling that just now noticed, is where an emergency, so urgent as to leave you no time to provide otherwise for your safety, constrains you to do to a prince what you see him minded to do to you. A necessity of this sort leads almost always to the end desired, as two instances may suffice to show. Among the closest friends and intimates of the Emperor Commodus, were two captains of the pretorian guards, Letus and Electus, while among the most favoured of his distresses was a certain Martia. But because these three often reproved him for his manner of living, as disgraceful to himself and to his station, he resolved to rid himself of them; and so wrote their names, along with those of certain others whom he meant should be put to death the next night, in a list which he placed under the pillow of his bed. But on his going to bathe, a boy, who was a favourite of his, while playing about his room and on his bed, found the list, and coming out of the chamber with it in his hand, was met by Martia, who took it from him, and on reading it and finding what it contained, sent for Letus and Electus. And all three recognizing the danger in which they stood, resolved to be beforehand with the tyrant, and losing no time, murdered him that very night.

The Emperor Caracalla, being with his armies in Mesopotamia, had with him Macrinus, who was more of a statesman than a soldier, as his prefect. But because princes who are not themselves good are always afraid lest others treat them as they deserve, Caracalla wrote to his friend Maternianus in Rome to learn from the astrologers whether any man had ambitious designs upon the empire, and to send him word. Maternianus, accordingly, wrote back that such designs were entertained by Macrinus. But this letter, ere it reached the emperor, fell into the hands of Macrinus, who, seeing when he read it that he must either put Caracalla to death before further letters arrived from Rome, or else die himself, committed the business to a centurion, named Martialis, whom he trusted, and whose brother had been slain by Caracalla a few days before, who succeeded in killing the emperor.

We see, therefore, that an urgency which leaves no room for delay has almost the same results as the method already noticed as followed by Nelematus of Epirus. We see, too, what I remarked almost at the outset of this Discourse, that the threats of princes expose them to greater danger than the wrongs they actually inflict, and lead to more active conspiracies: and, therefore, that a prince should be careful not to threaten; since men are either to be treated kindly or else got rid of, but never brought to such a pass that they have to choose between slaying and being slain.

As to the dangers attending the execution of plots, these result either from some change made in the plan, or from a failure in courage on the part of him who is to carry it out; or else from some mistake he falls into through want of foresight, or from his not giving the affair its finishing stroke, as when some are left alive whom it was meant to put to death. Now, nothing causes so much disturbance and hindrance in human affairs, as to be forced, at a moment’s notice and without time allowed for reflection, to vary your plan of action and adopt a different one from that fixed on at the first. And if such changes cause confusion anywhere, it is in matters appertaining to war, and in enterprises of the kind we are now speaking of; for in such affairs as these, there is nothing so essential as that men be prepared to do the exact thing intrusted to them. But when men have for many days together turned their whole thoughts to doing a thing in a certain way and in a certain order, and the way and order are suddenly altered, it is impossible but that they should be disconcerted and the whole scheme ruined. For which reason, it is far better to do everything in accordance with the preconcerted plan, though it be seen to be attended with some disadvantages, than, in order to escape these, to involve yourself in an infinity of dangers. And this will happen when you depart from your original design without time given to form a new one. For when time is given you may manage as you please.

The conspiracy of the Pazzi against Lorenzo and Giuliano de’ Medici is well known. The scheme agreed on was to give a banquet to the Cardinal S. Giorgio, at which the brothers should be put to death. To each of the conspirators a part was assigned: to one the murder, to another the seizure of the palace, while a third was to ride through the streets and call on the people to free themselves. But it so chanced that at a time when the Pazzi, the Medici, and the Cardinal were all assembled in the cathedral church of Florence to hear High Mass, it became known that Giuliano would not be present at the banquet; whereupon the conspirators, laying their heads together, resolved to do in church what they were to have done elsewhere. This, however, deranged the whole scheme. For Giovambattista of Montesecco, would have no hand in the murder if it was to be done in a church; and the whole distribution of parts had in consequence to be changed; when, as those to whom the new parts were assigned had no time allowed them to nerve their minds to their new tasks, they managed matters so badly that they were overpowered in their attempt.

Courage fails a conspirator either from his own poorness of spirit, or from his being overcome by some feeling of reverence. For such majesty and awe attend the person of a prince, that it may well happen that he softens or dismays his executioners. When Caius Marius was taken by the people of Minturnum, the slave sent in to slay him, overawed by the bearing of the man, and by the memories which his name called up, became unnerved, and powerless to perform his office. And if this influence was exercised by one who was a prisoner, and in chains, and overwhelmed by adverse fortune, how much more must reverence be inspired by a prince who is free and uncontrolled, surrounded by his retinue and by all the pomp and splendour of his station; whose dignity confounds, and whose graciousness conciliates.

Certain persons conspiring against Sitalces, king of Thrace, fixed a day for his murder, and assembled at the place appointed, whither the king had already come. Yet none of them raised a hand to harm him, and all departed without attempting anything against him or knowing why they refrained; each blaming the others. And more than once the same folly was repeated, until the plot getting wind, they were taken and punished for what they might have done, yet durst not do.

Two brothers of Alfonso, Duke of Ferrara, conspired against him, employing as their tool a certain priest named Giennes, a singing-man in the service of the Duke. He, at their request, repeatedly brought the Duke into their company, so that they had full opportunity to make away with him. Yet neither of them ever ventured to strike the blow; till at last, their scheme being discovered, they paid the penalty of their combined cowardice and temerity. Such irresolution can only have arisen from their being overawed by the majesty of the prince, or touched by his graciousness.

In the execution of conspiracies, therefore, errors and mishaps arise from a failure of prudence or courage to which all are subject, when, losing self-control, they are led in their bewilderment to do and say what they ought not. That men are thus confounded, and thrown off their balance, could not be better shown than in the words of Titus Livius, where he describes the behaviour of Alasamenes the Etolian, at the time when he resolved on the death of Nabis the Spartan, of whom I have spoken before. For when the time to act came, and he had disclosed to his followers what they had to do, Livius represents him as “collecting his thoughts which had grown confused by dwelling on so desperate an enterprise.” For it is impossible for any one, though of the most steadfast temper and used to the sight of death and to handle deadly weapons, not to be perturbed at such a moment. For which reason we should on such occasions choose for our tools those who have had experience in similar affairs, and trust no others though reputed of the truest courage. For in these grave undertakings, no one who is without such experience, however bold and resolute, is to be trusted.

The confusion of which I speak may either cause you to drop your weapon from your hand, or to use words which will have the same results. Quintianus being commanded by Lucilla, sister of Commodus, to slay him, lay in wait for him at the entrance of the amphitheatre, and rushing upon him with a drawn dagger, cried out, “The senate sends you this;” which words caused him to be seized before his blow descended. In like manner Messer Antonio of Volterra, who as we have elsewhere seen was told off to kill Lorenzo de’ Medici, exclaimed as he approached him, “Ah traitor!” and this exclamation proved the salvation of Lorenzo and the ruin of that conspiracy.

For the reasons now given, a conspiracy against a single ruler may readily break down in its execution; but a conspiracy against two rulers is not only difficult, but so hazardous that its success is almost hopeless. For to effect like actions, at the same time, in different places, is well-nigh impossible; nor can they be effected at different times, if you would not have one counteract another. So that if conspiracy against a single ruler be imprudent and dangerous, to conspire against two, is in the last degree fool-hardy and desperate. And were it not for the respect in which I hold the historian, I could not credit as possible what Herodian relates of Plautianus, namely, that he committed to the centurion Saturninus the task of slaying single-handed both Severus and Caracalla, they dwelling in different places; for the thing is so opposed to reason that on no other authority could I be induced to accept it as true.

Certain young Athenians conspired against Diocles and Hippias, tyrants of Athens. Diocles they slew; but Hippias, making his escape, avenged him. Chion and Leonidas of Heraclea, disciples of Plato, conspired against the despots Clearchus and Satirus. Clearchus fell, but Satirus survived and avenged him. The Pazzi, of whom we have spoken so often, succeeded in murdering Giuliano only. From such conspiracies, therefore, as are directed against more heads than one, all should abstain; for no good is to be got from them, whether for ourselves, for our country, or for any one else. On the contrary, when those conspired against escape, they become harsher and more unsufferable than before, as, in the examples given, Florence, Athens, and Heraclea had cause to know. True it is that the conspiracy contrived by Pelopidas for the liberation of his country, had to encounter every conceivable hindrance, and yet had the happiest end. For Pelopidas had to deal, not with two tyrants only, but with ten; and so far from having their confidence, could not, being an outlaw, even approach them. And yet he succeeded in coming to Thebes, in putting the tyrants to death, and in freeing his country. But whatever he did was done with the aid of one of the counsellors of the tyrants, a certain Charon, through whom he had all facilities for executing his design. Let none, however, take this case as a pattern; for that it was in truth a desperate attempt, and its success a marvel, was and is the opinion of all historians, who speak of it as a thing altogether extraordinary and unexampled.

The execution of a plot may be frustrated by some groundless alarm or unforeseen mischance occurring at the very moment when the scheme is to be carried out. On the morning on which Brutus and his confederates were to slay Cæsar, it so happened that Cæsar talked for a great while with Cneus Pompilius Lenas, one of the conspirators; which some of the others observing, were in terror that Pompilius was divulging the conspiracy to Cæsar; whose life they would therefore have attempted then and there, without waiting his arrival in the senate house, had they not been reassured by seeing that when the conference ended he showed no sign of unusual emotion. False alarms of this sort are to be taken into account and allowed for, all the more that they are easily raised. For he who has not a clear conscience is apt to assume that others are speaking of him. A word used with a wholly different purpose, may throw his mind off its balance and lead him to fancy that reference is intended to the matter he is engaged on, and cause him either to betray the conspiracy by flight, or to derange its execution by anticipating the time fixed. And the more there are privy to the conspiracy, the likelier is this to happen.

As to the mischances which may befall, since these are unforeseen, they can only be instanced by examples which may make men more cautious. Giulio Belanti of Siena, of whom I have spoken before, from the hate he bore Pandolfo Petrucci, who had given him his daughter to wife and afterwards taken her from him, resolved to murder him, and thus chose his time. Almost every day Pandolfo went to visit a sick kinsman, passing the house of Giulio on the way, who, remarking this, took measures to have his accomplices ready in his house to kill Pandolfo as he passed. Wherefore, placing the rest armed within the doorway, one he stationed at a window to give the signal of Pandolfo’s approach. It so happened however, that as he came nigh the house, and after the look-out had given the signal, Pandolfo fell in with a friend who stopped him to converse; when some of those with him, going on in advance, saw and heard the gleam and clash of weapons, and so discovered the ambuscade; whereby Pandolfo was saved, while Giulio with his companions had to fly from Siena. This plot accordingly was marred, and Giulio’s schemes baulked, in consequence of a chance meeting. Against such accidents, since they are out of the common course of things, no provision can be made. Still it is very necessary to take into account all that may happen, and devise what remedies you can.

It now only remains for us to consider those dangers which follow after the execution of a plot. These in fact resolve themselves into one, namely, that some should survive who will avenge the death of the murdered prince. The part of avenger is likely to be assumed by a son, a brother, or other kinsman of the deceased, who in the ordinary course of events might have looked to succeed to the princedom. And such persons are suffered to live, either from inadvertence, or from some of the causes noted already, as when Giovann’ Andrea of Lampognano, with the help of his companions, put to death the Duke of Milan. For the son and two brothers of the Duke, who survived him, were able to avenge his death. In cases like this, indeed, the conspirators may be held excused, since there is nothing they can do to help themselves. But when from carelessness and want of due caution some one is allowed to live whose death ought to have been secured, there is no excuse. Certain conspirators, after murdering the lord, Count Girolamo of Forli, made prisoners of his wife and of his children who were still very young. By thinking they could not be safe unless they got possession of the citadel, which the governor refused to surrender, they obtained a promise from Madonna Caterina, for so the Countess was named, that on their permitting her to enter the citadel she would cause it to be given up to them, her children in the mean time remaining with them as hostages. On which undertaking they suffered her to enter the citadel. But no sooner had she got inside than she fell to upbraid them from the walls with the murder of her husband, and to threaten them with every kind of vengeance; and to show them how little store she set upon her children, told them scoffingly that she knew how others could be got. In the end, the rebels having no leader to advise them, and perceiving too late the error into which they had been betrayed, had to pay the penalty of their rashness by perpetual banishment.

But of all the dangers which may follow on the execution of a plot, none is so much or so justly to be feared as that the people should be well affected to the prince whom you have put to death. For against this danger conspirators have no resource which can ensure their safety. Of this we have example in the case of Cæsar, who as he had the love of the Roman people was by them avenged; for they it was who, by driving out the conspirators from Rome, were the cause that all of them, at different times and in different places, came to violent ends.

Conspiracies against their country are less danger for those who take part in them than conspiracies against princes; since there is less risk beforehand, and though there be the same danger in their execution, there is none afterwards. Beforehand, the risks are few, because a citizen may use means for obtaining power without betraying his wishes or designs to any; and unless his course be arrested, his designs are likely enough to succeed; nay, though laws be passed to restrain him, he may strike out a new path. This is to be understood of a commonwealth which has to some degree become corrupted; for in one wherein there is no taint of corruption, there being no soil in which evil seed can grow, such designs will never suggest themselves to any citizen.

In a commonwealth, therefore, a citizen may by many means and in many ways aspire to the princedom without risking destruction, both because republics are slower than princes are to take alarm, are less suspicious and consequently less cautious, and because they look with greater reverence upon their great citizens, who are in this way rendered bolder and more reckless in attacking them. Any one who has read Sallust’s account of the conspiracy of Catiline, must remember how, when that conspiracy was discovered, Catiline not only remained in Rome, but even made his appearance in the senatehouse, where he was suffered to address the senate in the most insulting terms, — so scrupulous was that city in protecting the liberty of all its citizens. Nay, even after he had left Rome and placed himself at the head of his army, Lentulus and his other accomplices would not have been imprisoned, had not letters been found upon them clearly establishing their guilt. Hanno, the foremost citizen of Carthage, aspiring to absolute power, on the occasion of the marriage of a daughter contrived a plot for administering poison to the whole senate and so making himself prince. The scheme being discovered, the senate took no steps against him beyond passing a law to limit the expense of banquets and marriage ceremonies. So great was the respect they paid to his quality.

True, the execution of a plot against your country is attended with greater difficulty and danger, since it seldom happens that, in conspiring against so many, your own resources are sufficient by themselves; for it is not every one who, like Cæsar, Agathocles, or Cleomenes, is at the head of an army, so as to be able at a stroke, and by open force to make himself master of his country. To such as these, doubtless, the path is safe and easy enough; but others who have not such an assembled force ready at their command, must effect their ends either by stratagem and fraud, or with the help of foreign troops. Of such stratagems and frauds we have an instance in the case of Pisistratus the Athenian, who after defeating the Megarians and thereby gaining the favour of his fellow-citizens, showed himself to them one morning covered with wounds and blood, declaring that he had been thus outraged through the jealousy of the nobles, and asking that he might have an armed guard assigned for his protection. With the authority which this lent him, he easily rose to such a pitch of power as to become tyrant of Athens. In like manner Pandolfo Petrucci, on his return with the other exiles to Siena, was appointed the command of the public guard, as a mere office of routine which others had declined. Very soon, however, this armed force gave him so much importance that he became the supreme ruler of the State. And many others have followed other plans and methods, and in the course of time, and without incurring danger, have achieved their aim.

Conspirators against their country, whether trusting to their own forces or to foreign aid, have had more or less success in proportion as they have been favoured by Fortune. Catiline, of whom we spoke just now, was overthrown. Hanno, who has also been mentioned, failing to accomplish his object by poison, armed his partisans to the number of many thousands; but both he and they came to an ill end. On the other hand, certain citizens of Thebes conspiring to become its tyrants, summoned a Spartan army to their assistance, and usurped the absolute control of the city. In short, if we examine all the conspiracies which men have engaged in against their country, we shall find that few or none have been quelled in their inception, but that all have either succeeded, or have broken down in their execution. Once executed, they entail no further risks beyond those implied in the nature of a princedom. For the man who becomes a tyrant incurs all the natural and ordinary dangers in which a tyranny involves him, and has no remedies against them save those of which I have already spoken.

This is all that occurs to me to say on the subject of conspiracies. If I have noticed those which have been carried out with the sword rather than those wherein poison has been the instrument, it is because, generally speaking, the method of proceeding is the same in both. It is true, nevertheless, that conspiracies which are to be carried out by poison are, by reason of their uncertainty, attended by greater danger. For since fewer opportunities offer for their execution, you must have an understanding with persons who can command opportunities. But it is dangerous to have to depend on others. Again, many causes may hinder a poisoned draught from proving mortal; as when the murderers of Commodus, on his vomiting the poison given him, had to strangle him.

Princes, then, have no worse enemy than conspiracy, for when a conspiracy is formed against them, it either carries them off, or discredits them: since, if it succeeds, they die; while, if it be discovered, and the conspirators be put to death themselves, it will always be believed that the whole affair has been trumped up by the prince that he might glut his greed and cruelty with the goods and blood of those whom he has made away with. Let me not, however, forget to warn the prince or commonwealth against whom a conspiracy is directed, that on getting word of it, and before taking any steps to punish it, they endeavour, as far as they can, to ascertain its character, and after carefully weighing the strength of the conspirators with their own, on finding it preponderate, never suffer their knowledge of the plot to appear until they are ready with a force sufficient to crush it. For otherwise, to disclose their knowledge will only give the signal for their destruction. They must strive therefore to seem unconscious of what is going on; for conspirators who see themselves detected are driven forward by necessity and will stick at nothing. Of this precaution we have an example in Roman history, when the officers of the two legions, who, as has already been mentioned, were left behind to defend the Capuans from the Samnites, conspired together against the Capuans. For on rumours of this conspiracy reaching Rome, Rutilius the new consul was charged to see to it; who, not to excite the suspicions of the conspirators, publicly gave out that by order of the senate the Capuan legions were continued in their station. The conspirators believing this, and thinking they would have ample time to execute their plans, made no effort to hasten matters, but remained at their ease, until they found that the consul was moving one of the two legions to a distance from the other. This arousing their suspicion, led them to disclose their designs and endeavour to carry them out.

Now, we could have no more instructive example than this in whatever way we look at it. For it shows how slow men are to move in those matters wherein time seems of little importance, and how active they become when necessity urges them. Nor can a prince or commonwealth desiring for their own ends to retard the execution of a conspiracy, use any more effectual means to do so, than by artfully holding out to the conspirators some special opportunity as likely soon to present itself; awaiting which, and believing they have time and to spare for what they have to do, they will afford that prince or commonwealth all the leisure needed to prepare for their punishment. Whosoever neglects these precautions hastens his own destruction, as happened with the Duke of Athens, and with Guglielmo de’ Pazzi. For the Duke, who had made himself tyrant of Florence, on learning that he was being conspired against, without further inquiry into the matter, caused one of the conspirators to be seized; whereupon the rest at once armed themselves and deprived him of his government. Guglielmo, again, being commissary in the Val di Chiana in the year 1501, and learning that a conspiracy was being hatched in Arezzo to take the town from the Florentines and give it over to the Vitelli, repaired thither with all haste; and without providing himself with the necessary forces or giving a thought to the strength of the conspirators, on the advice of the bishop, his son, had one of them arrested. Which becoming known to the others, they forthwith rushed to arms, and taking the town from the Florentines, made Guglielmo their prisoner. Where, however, conspiracies are weak, they may and should be put down without scruple or hesitation.

Two methods, somewhat opposed to one another, which have occasionally been followed in dealing with conspiracies, are in no way to be commended. One of these was that adopted by the Duke of Athens, of whom I have just now spoken, who to have it thought that he confided in the goodwill of the Florentines, caused a certain man who gave information of a plot against him, to be put to death. The other was that followed by Dion the Syracusan, who, to sound the intentions of one whom he suspected, arranged with Calippus, whom he trusted, to pretend to get up a conspiracy against him. Neither of these tyrants reaped any advantage from the course he followed. For the one discouraged informers and gave heart to those who were disposed to conspire, the other prepared an easy road to his own death, or rather was prime mover in a conspiracy against himself. As the event showed. For Calippus having free leave to plot against Dion, plotted to such effect, that he deprived him at once of his State and life.

CHAPTER VII. — Why it is that changes from Freedom to Servitude, and from Servitude to Freedom, are sometimes made without Bloodshed, but at other times reek with Blood.

Since we find from history that in the countless changes which have been made from freedom to servitude and from servitude to freedom, sometimes an infinite multitude have perished, while at others not a soul has suffered (as when Rome made her change from kings to consuls, on which occasion none was banished save Tarquin, and no harm was done to any other), it may perhaps be asked, how it happens that of these revolutions, some have been attended by bloodshed and others not.

The answer I take to be this. The government which suffers change either has or has not had its beginning in violence. And since the government which has its beginning in violence must start by inflicting injuries on many, it must needs happen that on its downfall those who were injured will desire to avenge themselves; from which desire for vengeance the slaughter and death of many will result. But when a government originates with, and derives its authority from the whole community, there is no reason why the community, if it withdraw that authority, should seek to injure any except the prince from whom it withdraws it. Now the government of Rome was of this nature, and the expulsion of the Tarquins took place in this way. Of a like character was the government of the Medici in Florence, and, accordingly, upon their overthrow in the year 1494, no injury was done to any save themselves.

In such cases, therefore, the changes I speak of do not occasion any very great danger. But the changes wrought by men who have wrongs to revenge, are always of a most dangerous kind, and such, to say the least, as may well cause dismay in the minds of those who read of them. But since history abounds with instances of such changes I need say no more about them.

CHAPTER VIII. — That he who would effect Changes in a Commonwealth, must give heed to its Character and Condition

I have said before that a bad citizen cannot work grave mischief in a commonwealth which has not become corrupted. This opinion is not only supported by the arguments already advanced, but is further confirmed by the examples of Spurius Cassius and Manlius Capitolinus. For Spurius, being ambitious, and desiring to obtain extraordinary authority in Rome, and to win over the people by loading them with benefits (as, for instance, by selling them those lands which the Romans had taken from the Hernici,) his designs were seen through by the senate, and laid him under such suspicion, that when in haranguing the people he offered them the money realized by the sale of the grain brought from Sicily at the public expense, they would have none of it, believing that he offered it as the price of their freedom. Now, had the people been corrupted, they would not have refused this bribe, but would have opened rather than closed the way to the tyranny.

The example of Manlius is still more striking. For in his case we see what excellent gifts both of mind and body, and what splendid services to his country were afterwards cancelled by that shameful eagerness to reign which we find bred in him by his jealousy of the honours paid Camillus. For so darkened did his mind become, that without reflecting what were the institutions to which Rome was accustomed, or testing the material he had to work on, when he would have seen that it was still unfit to be moulded to evil ends, he set himself to stir up tumults against the senate and against the laws of his country.

And herein we recognize the excellence of this city of Rome, and of the materials whereof it was composed. For although the nobles were wont to stand up stoutly for one another, not one of them stirred to succour Manlius, and not one of his kinsfolk made any effort on his behalf, so that although it was customary, in the case of other accused persons, for their friends to put on black and sordid raiment, with all the other outward signs of grief, in order to excite pity for the accused, none was seen to do any of these things for Manlius. Even the tribunes of the people, though constantly ready to promote whatever courses seemed to favour the popular cause, and the more vehemently the more they seemed to make against the nobles, in this instance sided with the nobles to put down the common enemy. Nay the very people themselves, keenly alive to their own interests, and well disposed towards any attempt to damage the nobles, though they showed Manlius many proofs of their regard, nevertheless, when he was cited by the tribunes to appear before them and submit his cause for their decision, assumed the part of judges and not of defenders, and without scruple or hesitation sentenced him to die. Wherefore, I think, that there is no example in the whole Roman history which serves so well as this to demonstrate the virtues of all ranks in that republic. For not a man in the whole city bestirred himself to shield a citizen endowed with every great quality, and who, both publicly and privately, had done so much that deserved praise. But in all, the love of country outweighed every other thought, and all looked less to his past deserts than to the dangers which his present conduct threatened; from which to relieve themselves they put him to death. “Such,” says Livius, “was the fate of a man worthy our admiration had he not been born in a free State.”

And here two points should be noted. The first, that glory is to be sought by different methods in a corrupt city, and in one which still preserves its freedom. The second, which hardly differs from the first, that in their actions, and especially in matters of moment, men must have regard to times and circumstances and adapt themselves thereto. For those persons who from an unwise choice, or from natural inclination, run counter to the times will for the most part live unhappily, and find all they undertake issue in failure; whereas those who accommodate themselves to the times are fortunate and successful. And from the passage cited we may plainly infer, that had Manlius lived in the days of Marius and Sylla, when the body of the State had become corrupted, so that he could have impressed it with the stamp of his ambition, he might have had the same success as they had, and as those others had who after them aspired to absolute power; and, conversely, that if Sylla and Marius had lived in the days of Manlius, they must have broken down at the very beginning of their attempts.

For one man, by mischievous arts and measures, may easily prepare the ground for the universal corruption of a city; but no one man in his lifetime can carry that corruption so far, as himself to reap the harvest; or granting that one man’s life might be long enough for this purpose, it would be impossible for him, having regard to the ordinary habits of men, who grow impatient and cannot long forego the gratification of their desires, to wait until the corruption was complete. Moreover, men deceive themselves in respect of their own affairs, and most of all in respect of those on which they are most bent; so that either from impatience or from self-deception, they rush upon undertakings for which the time is not ripe, and so come to an ill end. Wherefore to obtain absolute authority in a commonwealth and to destroy its liberties, you must find the body of the State already corrupted, and corrupted by a gradual wasting continued from generation to generation; which, indeed, takes place necessarily, unless, as has been already explained, the State be often reinforced by good examples, or brought back to its first beginnings by wise laws.

Manlius, therefore, would have been a rare and renowned man had he been born in a corrupt city; and from his example we see that citizens seeking to introduce changes in the form of their government, whether in favour of liberty or despotism, ought to consider what materials they have to deal with, and then judge of the difficulty of their task. For it is no less arduous and dangerous to attempt to free a people disposed to live in servitude, than to enslave a people who desire to live free.

And because it has been said above, that in their actions men must take into account the character of the times in which they live, and guide themselves accordingly, I shall treat this point more fully in the following Chapter.

CHAPTER IX. — That to enjoy constant good Fortune we must change with the Times.

I have repeatedly noted that the good or bad fortune of men depends on whether their methods of acting accord with the character of the times. For we see that in what they do some men act impulsively, others warily and with caution. And because, from inability to preserve the just mean, they in both of these ways overstep the true limit, they commit mistakes in one direction or the other. He, however, will make fewest mistakes, and may expect to prosper most, who, while following the course to which nature inclines him, finds, as I have said, his method of acting in accordance with the times in which he lives.

All know that in his command of the Roman armies, Fabius Maximus displayed a prudence and caution very different from the audacity and hardihood natural to his countrymen; and it was his good fortune that his methods suited with the times. For Hannibal coming into Italy in all the flush of youth and recent success, having already by two defeats stripped Rome of her best soldiers and filled her with dismay, nothing could have been more fortunate for that republic than to find a general able, by his deliberateness and caution, to keep the enemy at bay. Nor, on the other hand, could Fabius have fallen upon times better suited to the methods which he used, and by which he crowned himself with glory. That he acted in accordance with his natural bent, and not from a reasoned choice, we may gather from this, that when Scipio, to bring the war to an end, proposed to pass with his army into Africa, Fabius, unable to depart from his characteristic methods and habits, strenuously opposed him; so that had it rested with him, Hannibal might never have left Italy. For he perceived not that the times had changed, and that with them it was necessary to change the methods of prosecuting the war. Had Fabius, therefore, been King of Rome, he might well have caused the war to end unhappily, not knowing how to accommodate his methods to the change in the times. As it was, he lived in a commonwealth in which there were many citizens, and many different dispositions; and which as it produced a Fabius, excellent at a time when it was necessary to protract hostilities, so also, afterwards gave birth to a Scipio, at a time suited to bring them to a successful close.

And hence it comes that a commonwealth endures longer, and has a more sustained good fortune than a princedom, because from the diversity in the characters of its citizens, it can adapt itself better than a prince can to the diversity of times. For, as I have said before, a man accustomed to follow one method, will never alter it; whence it must needs happen that when times change so as no longer to accord with his method, he will be ruined. Piero Soderini, of whom I have already spoken, was guided in all his actions by patience and gentleness, and he and his country prospered while the times were in harmony with these methods. But, afterwards, when a time came when it behoved him to have done with patience and gentleness, he knew not how to drop them, and was ruined together with his country. Pope Julius II., throughout the whole of his pontificate, was governed by impulse and passion, and because the times were in perfect accord, all his undertakings prospered. But had other times come requiring other qualities, he could not have escaped destruction, since he could not have changed his methods nor his habitual line of conduct.

As to why such changes are impossible, two reasons may be given. One is that we cannot act in opposition to the bent of our nature. The other, that when a man has been very successful while following a particular method, he can never be convinced that it is for his advantage to try some other. And hence it results that a man’s fortunes vary, because times change and he does not change with them. So, too, with commonwealths, which, as we have already shown at length, are ruined from not altering their institutions to suit the times. And commonwealths are slower to change than princes are, changes costing them more effort; because occasions must be waited for which shall stir the whole community, and it is not enough that a single citizen alters his method of acting.

But since I have made mention of Fabius Maximus who wore out Hannibal by keeping him at bay, I think it opportune to consider in the following Chapter whether a general who desires to engage his enemy at all risks, can be prevented by that enemy from doing so.

CHAPTER X. — That a Captain cannot escape Battle when his Enemy forces it on him at all risks.

“Cneius Sulpitius when appointed dictator against the Gauls, being unwilling to tempt Fortune by attacking an enemy whom delay and a disadvantageous position would every day render weaker, protracted the war.”

When a mistake is made of a sort that all or most men are likely to fall into, I think it not amiss to mark it again and again with disapproval. Wherefore, although I have already shown repeatedly how in affairs of moment the actions of the moderns conform not to those of antiquity, still it seems to me not superfluous, in this place, to say the same thing once more. For if in any particular the moderns have deviated from the methods of the ancients, it is especially in their methods of warfare, wherein not one of those rules formerly so much esteemed is now attended to. And this because both princes and commonwealths have devolved the charge of such matters upon others, and, to escape danger, have kept aloof from all military service; so that although one or another of the princes of our times may occasionally be seen present in person with his army, we are not therefore to expect from him any further praiseworthy behaviour. For even where such personages take part in any warlike enterprise, they do so out of ostentation and from no nobler motive; though doubtless from sometimes seeing their soldiers face to face, and from retaining to themselves the title of command, they are likely to make fewer blunders than we find made by republics, and most of all by the republics of Italy, which though altogether dependent upon others, and themselves utterly ignorant of everything relating to warfare, do yet, that they may figure as the commanders of their armies, take upon them to direct their movements, and in doing so commit countless mistakes; some of which have been considered elsewhere but one is of such importance as to deserve notice here.

When these sluggard princes or effeminate republics send forth any of their Captains, it seems to them that the wisest instruction they can give him is to charge him on no account to give battle, but, on the contrary, to do what he can to avoid fighting. Wherein they imagine themselves to imitate the prudence of Fabius Maximus, who by protracting the war with Hannibal, saved the Roman commonwealth; not perceiving that in most instances such advice to a captain is either useless or hurtful. For the truth of the matter is, that a captain who would keep the field, cannot decline battle when his adversary forces it on him at all hazards. So that the instruction to avoid battle is but tantamount to saying, “You shall engage when it pleases your enemy, and not when it suits yourself.” For if you would keep the field and yet avoid battle, the only safe course is to interpose a distance of at least fifty miles between you and your enemy, and afterwards to maintain so vigilant a look-out, that should he advance you will have time to make your retreat. Another method is to shut yourself up in some town. But both of these methods are extremely disadvantageous. For by following the former, you leave your country a prey to the enemy, and a valiant prince would far sooner risk the chances of battle than prolong a war in a manner so disastrous to his subjects; while by adopting the latter method, and shutting yourself up in a town with your army, there is manifest danger of your being besieged, and presently reduced by famine and forced to surrender. Wherefore it is most mischievous to seek to avoid battle in either of these two ways.

To intrench yourself in a strong position, as Fabius was wont to do, is a good method when your army is so formidable that the enemy dare not advance to attack you in your intrenchments; yet it cannot truly be said that Fabius avoided battle, but rather that he sought to give battle where he could do so with advantage. For had Hannibal desired to fight, Fabius would have waited for him and fought him. But Hannibal never dared to engage him on his own ground. So that an engagement was avoided as much by Hannibal as by Fabius, since if either had been minded to fight at all hazards the other would have been constrained to take one of three courses, that is to say, one or other of the two just now mentioned, or else to retreat. The truth of this is confirmed by numberless examples, and more particularly by what happened in the war waged by the Romans against Philip of Macedon, the father of Perseus. For Philip being invaded by the Romans, resolved not to give them battle; and to avoid battle, sought at first to do as Fabius had done in Italy, posting himself on the summit of a hill, where he intrenched himself strongly, thinking that the Romans would not venture to attack him there. But they advancing and attacking him in his intrenchments, drove him from his position; when, unable to make further resistance, he fled with the greater part of his army, and was only saved from utter destruction by the difficulty of the ground, which made it impossible for the Romans to pursue him.

Philip, therefore, who had no mind to fight, encamping too near the Romans, was forced to fly; and learning from this experience that to escape fighting it was not enough for him to intrench himself on a hill, yet not choosing to shut himself up in a walled town, he was constrained to take the other alternative of keeping at a distance of many miles from the Roman legions. Accordingly, when the Romans entered one province, he betook himself to another, and when they left a province he entered it. But perceiving that by protracting the war in this way, his condition grew constantly worse, while his subjects suffered grievously, now from his own troops, at another time from those of the enemy, he at last resolved to hazard battle, and so came to a regular engagement with the Romans.

It is for your interest, therefore, not to fight, when you possess the same advantages as Fabius, or as Cneius Sulpitius had; in other words, when your army is so formidable in itself that the enemy dare not attack you in your intrenchments, and although he has got within your territory has yet gained no footing there, and suffers in consequence from the want of necessary supplies. In such circumstances delay is useful, for the reasons assigned by Titus Livius when speaking of Sulpitius. In no other circumstances, however, can an engagement be avoided without dishonour or danger. For to retire as Philip did, is nothing else than defeat; and the disgrace is greater in proportion as your valour has been less put to the proof. And if Philip was lucky enough to escape, another, not similarly favoured by the nature of the ground, might not have the same good fortune.

That Hannibal was not a master in the arts of warfare there is none will venture to maintain. Wherefore, when he had to encounter Scipio in Africa, it may be assumed that had he seen any advantage in prolonging the war he would have done so; and, possibly, being a skilful captain and in command of a valiant army, he might have been able to do what Fabius did in Italy. But since he took not that course, we may infer that he was moved by sufficient reasons. For the captain who has got an army together, and perceives that from want of money or friends he cannot maintain it long, must be a mere madman if he do not at once, and before his army melts away, try the fortunes of battle; since he is certain to lose by delay, while by fighting he may chance to succeed. And there is this also to be kept in view, that we must strive, even if we be defeated, to gain glory; and that more glory is to be won in being beaten by force, than in a defeat from any other cause. And this we may suppose to have weighed with Hannibal. On the other hand, supposing Hannibal to have declined battle, Scipio, even if he had lacked courage to follow him up and attack him in his intrenched camp, would not have suffered thereby; for as he had defeated Syphax, and got possession of many of the African towns, he could have rested where he was in the same security and with the same convenience as if he had been in Italy. But this was not the case with Hannibal when he had to encounter Fabius, nor with the Gauls when they were opposed to Sulpitius.

Least of all can he decline battle who invades with his army the country of another; for seeking to enter his enemy’s country, he must fight whenever the enemy comes forward to meet him; and is under still greater necessity to fight, if he undertake the siege of any town. As happened in our own day with Duke Charles of Burgundy, who, when beleaguering Morat, a town of the Swiss, was by them attacked and routed; or as happened with the French army encamped against Novara, which was in like manner defeated by the Swiss.

CHAPTER XI. — That one who has to contend with many, though he be weaker than they, will prevail if he can withstand their first onset.

The power exercised in Rome by the tribunes of the people was great, and, as I have repeatedly explained, was necessary, since otherwise there would have been no check on the ambition of the nobles, and the commonwealth must have grown corrupted far sooner than it did. But because, as I have said elsewhere, there is in everything a latent evil peculiar to it, giving rise to new mischances, it becomes necessary to provide against these by new ordinances. The authority of the tribunes, therefore, being insolently asserted so as to become formidable to the nobility and to the entire city, disorders dangerous to the liberty of the State must thence have resulted, had not a method been devised by Appius Claudius for controlling the ambition of the tribunes. This was, to secure that there should always be one of their number timid, or venal, or else a lover of the general good, who could be influenced to oppose the rest whenever these sought to pass any measure contrary to the wishes of the senate. This remedy was a great restraint on the excessive authority of the tribunes, and on many occasions proved serviceable to Rome.

I am led by this circumstance to remark, that when many powerful persons are united against one, who, although no match for the others collectively, is also powerful, the chances are more in favour of this single and less I powerful person, than of the many who together are much stronger. For setting aside an infinity of accidents which can be turned to better account by one than by many, it will always happen that, by exercising a little dexterity, the one will be able to divide the many, and weaken the force which was strong while it was united. In proof whereof, I shall not refer to ancient examples, though many such might be cited, but content myself with certain modern instances taken from the events of our own times.

In the year 1484, all Italy combined against the Venetians, who finding their position desperate, and being unable to keep their army any longer in the field, bribed Signer Lodovico, who then governed Milan, and so succeeded in effecting a settlement, whereby they not only recovered the towns they had lost, but also obtained for themselves a part of the territories of Ferrara; so that those were by peace the gainers, who in war had been the losers. Not many years ago the whole world was banded together against France; but before the war came to a close, Spain breaking with the confederates and entering into a separate treaty with France, the other members of the league also, were presently forced to make terms.

Wherefore we may always assume when we see a war set on foot by many against one, that this one, if he have strength to withstand the first shock, and can temporize and wait his opportunity, is certain to prevail. But unless he can do this he runs a thousand dangers: as did the Venetians in the year 1508, who, could they have temporized with the French, and so got time to conciliate some of those who had combined against them, might have escaped the ruin which then overtook them. But not possessing such a strong army as would have enabled them to temporize with their enemies, and consequently not having the time needed for gaining any to their side, they were undone. Yet we know that the Pope, as soon as he had obtained what he wanted, made friends with them, and that Spain did the like; and that both the one and the other of these powers would gladly have saved the Lombard territory for themselves, nor would, if they could have helped it, have left it to France, so as to augment her influence in Italy.

The Venetians, therefore, should have given up a part to save the rest; and had they done so at a time when the surrender would not have seemed to be made under compulsion, and before any step had been taken in the direction of war, it would have been a most prudent course; although discreditable and probably of little avail after war had been begun. But until the war broke out, few of the Venetian citizens recognized the danger, fewer still the remedy, and none ventured to prescribe it.

But to return to the point whence we started, I say that the same safeguard for their country which the Roman senate found against the ambition of the tribunes in their number, is within the reach of the prince who is attacked by many adversaries, if he only know to use prudently those methods which promote division.

CHAPTER XII. — A prudent Captain will do what he can to make it necessary for his own Soldiers to fight, and to relieve his Enemy from that necessity.

Elsewhere I have noted how greatly men are governed in what they do by Necessity, and how much of their renown is due to her guidance, so that it has even been said by some philosophers, that the hands and tongues of men, the two noblest instruments of their fame, would never have worked to perfection, nor have brought their labours to that pitch of excellence we see them to have reached, had they not been impelled by this cause. The captains of antiquity, therefore, knowing the virtues of this necessity, and seeing the steadfast courage which it gave their soldiers in battle, spared no effort to bring their armies under its influence, while using all their address to loosen its hold upon their enemies. For which reason, they would often leave open to an adversary some way which they might have closed, and close against their own men some way they might have left open.

Whosoever, therefore, would have a city defend itself stubbornly, or an army fight resolutely in the field, must before all things endeavour to impress the minds of those whom he commands with the belief that no other course is open to them. In like manner a prudent captain who undertakes the attack of a city, will measure the ease or difficulty of his enterprise, by knowing and considering the nature of the necessity which compels the inhabitants to defend it; and where he finds that necessity to be strong, he may infer that his task will be difficult, but if otherwise, that it will be easy.

And hence it happens that cities are harder to be recovered after a revolt than to be taken for the first time. Because on a first attack, having no occasion to fear punishment, since they have given no ground of offence, they readily surrender; but when they have revolted, they know that they have given ground of offence, and, fearing punishment, are not so easily brought under. A like stubbornness grows from the natural hostility with which princes or republics who are neighbours regard one another; which again is caused by the desire to dominate over those who live near, or from jealousy of their power. This is more particularly the case with republics, as in Tuscany for example; for contention and rivalry have always made, and always will make it extremely hard for one republic to bring another into subjection. And for this reason any one who considers attentively who are the neighbours of Florence, and who of Venice, will not marvel so much as some have done, that Florence should have spent more than Venice on her wars and gained less; since this results entirely from the Venetians finding their neighbouring towns less obstinate in their resistance than the Florentines theirs. For all the towns in the neighbourhood of Venice have been used to live under princes and not in freedom; and those who are used to servitude commonly think little of changing masters, nay are often eager for the change. In this way Venice, though she has had more powerful neighbours than Florence, has been able, from finding their towns less stubborn, to subdue them more easily than the latter, surrounded exclusively by free cities, has had it in her power to do.

But, to return to the matter in hand, the captain who attacks a town should use what care he can, not to drive the defenders to extremities, lest he render them stubborn; but when they fear punishment should promise them pardon, and when they fear for their freedom should assure them that he has no designs against the common welfare, but only against a few ambitious men in their city; for such assurances have often smoothed the way to the surrender of towns. And although pretexts of this sort are easily seen through, especially by the wise, the mass of the people are often beguiled by them, because desiring present tranquillity, they shut their eyes to the snares hidden behind these specious promises. By means such as these, therefore, cities innumerable have been brought into subjection, as recently was the case with Florence. The ruin of Crassus and his army was similarly caused: for although he himself saw through the empty promises of the Parthians, as meant only to blind the Roman soldiers to the necessity of defending themselves, yet he could not keep his men steadfast, they, as we clearly gather in reading the life of this captain, being deceived by the offers of peace held out to them by their enemies.

On the other hand, when the Samnites, who, at the instance of a few ambitious men, and in violation of the terms of the truce made with them, had overrun and pillaged lands belonging to the allies of Rome, afterwards sent envoys to Rome to implore peace, offering to restore whatever they had taken, and to surrender the authors of these injuries and outrages as prisoners, and these offers were rejected by the Romans, and the envoys returned to Samnium bringing with them no hope of an adjustment, Claudius Pontius, who then commanded the army of the Samnites, showed them in a remarkable speech, that the Romans desired war at all hazards, and declared that, although for the sake of his country he wished for peace, necessity constrained him to prepare for war; telling them “that was a just war which could not be escaped, and those arms sacred in which lay their only hopes.” And building on this necessity, he raised in the minds of his soldiers a confident expectation of success. That I may not have to revert to this matter again, it will be convenient to notice here those examples from Roman history which most merit attention. When Caius Manilius was in command of the legions encamped against Veii, a division of the Veientine army having got within the Roman intrenchments, Manilius ran forward with a company of his men to defend them, and, to prevent the escape of the Veientines, guarded all the approaches to the camp. The Veientines finding themselves thus shut in, began to fight with such fury that they slew Manilius, and would have destroyed all the rest of the Roman army, had not the prudence of one of the tribunes opened a way for the Veientines to retreat. Here we see that so long as necessity compelled, the Veientines fought most fiercely, but on finding a path opened for escape, preferred flight to combat. On another occasion when the Volscians and Equians passed with their armies across the Roman frontier, the consuls were sent out to oppose them, and an engagement ensued. It so happened that when the combat was at its height, the army of the Volscians, commanded by Vectius Mescius, suddenly found themselves shut in between their own camp, which a division of the Romans had occupied, and the body of the Roman army; when seeing that they must either perish or cut a way for themselves with their swords, Vectius said to them, “Come on, my men, here is no wall or rampart to be scaled: we fight man with man; in valour we are their equals, and necessity, that last and mightiest weapon, gives us the advantage.” Here, then, necessity is spoken of by Titus Livius as the last and mightiest weapon.

Camillus, the wisest and most prudent of all the Roman commanders, when he had got within the town of Veii with his army, to make its surrender easier and not to drive its inhabitants to desperation, called out to his men, so that the Veientines might hear, to spare all whom they found unarmed. Whereupon the defenders throwing away their weapons, the town was taken almost without bloodshed. And this device was afterwards followed by many other captains.

CHAPTER XIII. — Whether we may trust more to a valiant Captain with a weak Army, or to a valiant Army with a weak Captain.

Coriolanus being banished from Rome betook himself to the Volscians, and when he had got together an army wherewith to avenge himself on his countrymen, came back to Rome; yet, again withdrew, not constrained to retire by the might of the Roman arms, but out of reverence for his mother. From this incident, says Titus Livius, we may learn that the spread of the Roman power was due more to the valour of her captains than of her soldiers. For before this the Volscians had always been routed, and only grew successful when Coriolanus became their captain.

But though Livius be of this opinion, there are many passages in his history to show that the Roman soldiers, even when left without leaders, often performed astonishing feats of valour, nay, sometimes maintained better discipline and fought with greater spirit after their consuls were slain than they had before. For example, the army under the Scipios in Spain, after its two leaders had fallen, was able by its valour not merely to secure its own safety, but to overcome the enemy and preserve the province for the Roman Republic. So that to state the case fairly, we find many instances in which the valour of the soldiers alone gained the day, as well as many in which success was wholly due to the excellence of the captain. From which it may be inferred that the one stands in need of the other.

And here the question suggests itself: which is the more formidable, a good army badly led, or a good captain commanding an indifferent army; though, were we to adopt the opinion of Cæsar on this head, we ought lightly to esteem both. For when Cæsar went to Spain against Afranius and Petreius, who were there in command of a strong army, he made little account of them, saying, “that he went to fight an army without a captain,” indicating thereby the weakness of these generals. And, conversely, when he went to encounter Pompeius in Thessaly, he said, “I go against a captain without an army.”

A further question may also be raised, whether it is easier for a good captain to make a good army, or for a good army to make a good captain. As to this it might be thought there was barely room for doubt, since it ought to be far easier for many who are good to find one who is good or teach him to become so, than for one who is good to find or make many good. Lucullus when sent against Mithridates was wholly without experience in war: but his brave army, which was provided with many excellent officers, speedily taught him to be a good captain. On the other hand, when the Romans, being badly off for soldiers, armed a number of slaves and gave them over to be drilled by Sempronius Gracchus, he in a short time made them into a serviceable army. So too, as I have already mentioned, Pelopidas and Epaminondas after rescuing Thebes, their native city, from Spartan thraldom, in a short time made such valiant soldiers of the Theban peasantry, as to be able with their aid not only to withstand, but even to defeat the Spartan armies. So that the question may seem to be equally balanced, excellence on one side generally finding excellence on the other.

A good army, however, when left without a good leader, as the Macedonian army was on the death of Alexander, or as those veterans were who had fought in the civil wars, is apt to grow restless and turbulent. Wherefore I am convinced that it is better to trust to the captain who has time allowed him to discipline his men, and means wherewith to equip them, than to a tumultuary host with a chance leader of its own choosing. But twofold is the merit and twofold the glory of those captains who not only have had to subdue their enemies, but also before encountering them to organize and discipline their forces. This, however, is a task requiring qualities so seldom combined, that were many of those captains who now enjoy a great name with the world, called on to perform it, they would be much less thought of than they are.

CHAPTER XIV. — Of the effect produced in Battle by strange and unexpected Sights or Sounds.

That the disorder occasioned by strange and unexpected sights or sounds may have momentous consequences in combat, might be shown by many instances, but by none better than by what befell in the battle fought between the Romans and the Volscians, when Quintius, the Roman general, seeing one wing of his army begin to waver, shouted aloud to his men to stand firm, for the other wing was already victorious. Which words of his giving confidence to his own troops and striking the enemy with dismay won him the battle. But if a cry like this, produce great effect on a well disciplined army, far greater must be its effect on one which is ill disciplined and disorderly. For by such a wind the whole mass will be moved, as I shall show by a well-known instance happening in our own times.

A few years ago the city of Perugia was split into the two factions of the Baglioni and the Oddi, the former holding the government, the latter being in exile. The Oddeschi, however, with the help of friends, having got together an armed force which they lodged in villages of their own near Perugia, obtained, by the favour of some of their party, an entrance into the city by night, and moving forward without discovery, came as far as the public square. And as all the streets of Perugia are barred with chains drawn across them at their corners, the Oddeschi had in front of them a man who carried an iron hammer wherewith to break the fastenings of the chains so that horsemen might pass. When the only chain remaining unbroken was that which closed the public square, the alarm having now been given, the hammerman was so impeded by the crowd pressing behind him that he could not raise his arm to strike freely. Whereupon, to get more room for his work, he called aloud to the others to stand back; and the word back passing from rank to rank those furthest off began to run, and, presently, the others also, with such precipitancy, that they fell into utter disorder. In this way, and from this trifling circumstance, the attempt of the Oddeschi came to nothing.

Here we may note that discipline is needed in an army, not so much to enable it to fight according to a settled order, as that it may not be thrown into confusion by every insignificant accident. For a tumultuary host is useless in war, simply because every word, or cry, or sound, may throw it into a panic and cause it to fly. Wherefore it behoves a good captain to provide that certain fixed persons shall receive his orders and pass them on to the rest, and to accustom his soldiers to look to these persons, and to them only, to be informed what his orders are. For whenever this precaution is neglected the gravest mishaps are constantly seen to ensue.

As regards strange and unexpected sights, every captain should endeavour while his army is actually engaged with the enemy, to effect some such feint or diversion as will encourage his own men and dismay his adversary since this of all things that can happen is the likeliest to ensure victory. In evidence whereof we may cite the example of Cneius Sulpitius, the Roman dictator, who, when about to give battle to the Gauls, after arming his sutlers and camp followers, mounted them on mules and other beasts of burden, furnished them with spears and banners to look like cavalry, and placing them behind a hill, ordered them on a given signal, when the fight was at the hottest, to appear and show themselves to the enemy. All which being carried out as he had arranged, threw the Gauls into such alarm, that they lost the battle.

A good captain, therefore, has two things to see to: first, to contrive how by some sudden surprise he may throw his enemy into confusion; and next, to be prepared should the enemy use a like stratagem against him to discover and defeat it; as the stratagem of Semiramis was defeated by the King of India. For Semiramis seeing that this king had elephants in great numbers, to dismay him by showing that she, too, was well supplied, caused the skins of many oxen and buffaloes to be sewn together in the shape of elephants and placed upon camels and sent to the front. But the trick being detected by the king, turned out not only useless but hurtful to its contriver. In a battle which the Dictator Mamercus fought against the people of Fidenae, the latter, to strike terror into the minds of the Romans, contrived that while the combat raged a number of soldiers should issue from Fidenae bearing lances tipped with fire, thinking that the Romans, disturbed by so strange a sight, would be thrown into confusion.

We are to note, however, with regard to such contrivances, that if they are to serve any useful end, they should be formidable as well as seem so; for when they menace a real danger, their weak points are not so soon discerned. When they have more of pretence than reality, it will be well either to dispense with them altogether, or resorting to them, to keep them, like the muleteers of Sulpitius, in the background, so that they be not too readily found out. For any weakness inherent in them is soon discovered if they be brought near, when, as happened with the elephants of Semiramis and the fiery spears of the men of Fidenae, they do harm rather than good. For although by this last-mentioned device the Romans at the first were somewhat disconcerted, so soon as the dictator came up and began to chide them, asking if they were not ashamed to fly like bees from smoke, and calling on them to turn on their enemy, and “with her own flames efface that Fidenae whom their benefits could not conciliate,” they took courage; so that the device proved of no service to its contrivers, who were vanquished in the battle.

CHAPTER XV. — That one and not many should head an Army: and why it is harmful to have more Leaders than one.

The men of Fidenae rising against the colonists whom the Romans had settled among them, and putting them to the sword, the Romans to avenge the insult appointed four tribunes with consular powers: one of whom they retained to see to the defence of Rome, while the other three were sent against the Fidenati and the Veientines. But these three falling out among themselves, and being divided in their counsels, returned from their mission with discredit though not with loss. Of which discredit they were themselves the cause. That they sustained no loss was due to the valour of their soldiers But the senate perceiving the source of the mischief, to the end that one man might put to rights what three had thrown into confusion, resorted to the appointment of a dictator.

Here we see the disadvantage of having several leaders in one army or in a town which has to defend itself. And the case could not be put in clearer words than by Titus Livius, where he says, “The three tribunes with consular authority gave proof how hurtful it is in war to have many leaders; for each forming a different opinion, and each abiding by his own, they threw opportunities in the way of their enemies.” And though this example suffice by itself to show the disadvantage in war of divided commands, to make the matter still plainer I shall cite two further instances, one ancient and one modern.

In the year 1500, Louis XII. of France, after recovering Milan, sent troops to restore Pisa to the Florentines, Giovambattista Ridolfi and Luca d’Antonio Albizzi going with them as commissaries. Now, because Giovambattista had a great name, and was older than Luca, the latter left the whole management of everything to him; and although he did not show his jealousy of him by opposing him, he betrayed it by his silence, and by being so careless and indifferent about everything, that he gave no help in the business of the siege either by word or deed, just as though he had been a person of no account. But when, in consequence of an accident, Giovambattista had to return to Florence, all this was changed; for Luca, remaining in sole charge, behaved with the greatest courage, prudence, and zeal, all which qualities had been hidden while he held a joint command. Further to bear me out I shall again borrow the words of Titus Livius, who, in relating how when Quintius and Agrippa his colleague were sent by the Romans against the Equians, Agrippa contrived that the conduct of the war should rest with Quintius, observes, “Most wholesome is it that in affairs of great moment, supreme authority be vested in one man.” Very different, however, is the course followed by the republics and princes of our own days, who, thinking to be better served, are used to appoint several captains or commissioners to fill one command; a practice giving rise to so much confusion, that were we seeking for the causes of the overthrow of the French and Italian armies in recent times, we should find this to be the most active of any.

Rightly, therefore, may we conclude that in sending forth an army upon service, it is wiser to entrust it to one man of ordinary prudence, than to two of great parts but with a divided command.

CHAPTER XVI. — That in Times of Difficulty true Worth is sought after; whereas in quiet Times it is not the most deserving, but those who are recommended by Wealth or Connection who are most in favour.

It always has happened and always will, that the great and admirable men of a republic are neglected in peaceful times; because at such seasons many citizens are found, who, envying the reputation these men have justly earned, seek to be regarded not merely as their equals but as their superiors. Touching this there is a notable passage in Thucydides, the Greek historian, where he tells how the republic of Athens coming victorious out of the Peloponessian war, wherein she had bridled the pride of Sparta, and brought almost the whole of Greece under her authority, was encouraged by the greatness of her renown to propose to herself the conquest of Sicily. In Athens this scheme was much debated, Alcibiades and certain others who had the public welfare very little in their thoughts, but who hoped that the enterprise, were they placed in command, might minister to their fame, recommending that it should be undertaken. Nicias, on the other hand, one of the best esteemed of the Athenian citizens, was against it, and in addressing the people, gave it as the strongest reason for trusting his advice, that in advising them not to engage in this war, he urged what was not for his own advantage; for he knew that while Athens remained at peace numberless citizens were ready to take precedence of him: whereas, were war declared, he was certain that none would rank before him or even be looked upon as his equal.

Here we see that in tranquil times republics are subject to the infirmity of lightly esteeming their worthiest citizens. And this offends these persons for two reasons: first, because they are not given the place they deserve; and second, because they see unworthy men and of abilities inferior to their own, as much or more considered than they. Injustice such as this has caused the ruin of many republics. For citizens who find themselves undeservedly slighted, and perceive the cause to be that the times are tranquil and not troubled, will strive to change the times by stirring up wars hurtful to the public welfare. When I look for remedies for this state of things, I find two: first, to keep the citizens poor, so that wealth without worth shall corrupt neither them nor others; second, to be so prepared for war as always to be ready to make war; for then there will always be a need for worthy citizens, as was the case in Rome in early times. For as Rome constantly kept her armies in the field, there was constant opportunity for men to display their valour, nor was it possible to deprive a deserving man of his post and give it to another who was not deserving. Or if ever this were done by inadvertency, or by way of experiment, there forthwith resulted such disorder and danger, that the city at once retraced its steps and reverted to the true path. But other republics which are not regulated on the same plan, and make war only when driven to it by necessity, cannot help committing this injustice, nay, will constantly run into it, when, if the great citizen who finds himself slighted be vindictive, and have some credit and following in the city, disorder will always ensue. And though Rome escaped this danger for a time, she too, as has elsewhere been said, having no longer, after she had conquered Carthage and Antiochus, any fear of war, came to think she might commit her armies to whom she would, making less account of the valour of her captains than of those other qualities which gain favour with the people. Accordingly we find Paulus Emilius rejected oftener than once when he sought the consulship; nor, in fact, obtaining it until the Macedonian war broke out, which, being judged a formidable business, was by the voice of the whole city committed to his management. After the year 1494 our city of Florence was involved in a series of wars, in conducting which none of our citizens had any success until chance threw the command into the hands of one who showed us how an army should be led. This was Antonio Giacomini, and so long as there were dangerous wars on foot, all rivalry on the part of other citizens was suspended; and whenever a captain or commissary had to be appointed he was unopposed. But when a war came to be undertaken, as to the issue of which no misgivings were felt, and which promised both honour and preferment, so numerous were the competitors for command, that three commissaries having to be chosen to conduct the siege of Pisa, Antonio was left out; and though it cannot with certainty be shown that any harm resulted to our republic from his not having been sent on this enterprise, we may reasonably conjecture that such was indeed the case. For as the people of Pisa were then without means either for subsistence or defence, it may be believed that had Antonio been there he would have reduced them to such extremities as would have forced them to surrender at discretion to the Florentines. But Pisa being besieged by captains who knew neither how to blockade nor how to storm it, held out so long, that the Florentines, who should have reduced it by force, were obliged to buy its submission. Neglect like this might well move Antonio to resentment; and he must needs have been both very patient and very forgiving if he felt no desire to revenge himself when he could, by the ruin of the city or by injuries to individual citizens. But a republic should beware not to rouse such feelings, as I shall show in the following Chapter.

CHAPTER XVII. — That we are not to offend a Man, and then send him to fill an important Office or Command.

A republic should think twice before appointing to an important command a citizen who has sustained notable wrong at the hands of his fellow-citizens. Claudius Nero, quitting the army with which he was opposing Hannibal, went with a part of his forces into the March of Ancona, designing to join the other consul there, and after joining him to attack Hasdrubal before he came up with his brother. Now Claudius had previously commanded against Hasdrubal in Spain, and after driving him with his army into such a position that it seemed he must either fight at a disadvantage or perish by famine, had been outwitted by his adversary, who, while diverting his attention with proposals of terms, contrived to slip through his hands and rob him of the opportunity for effecting his destruction. This becoming known in Rome brought Claudius into so much discredit both with the senate and people, that to his great mortification and displeasure, he was slightingly spoken of by the whole city. But being afterwards made consul and sent to oppose Hannibal, he took the course mentioned above, which was in itself so hazardous that all Rome was filled with doubt and anxiety until tidings came of Hasdrubal’s defeat. When subsequently asked why he had played so dangerous a game, wherein without urgent necessity he had staked the very existence of Rome, Claudius answered, he had done so because he knew that were he to succeed he would recover whatever credit he had lost in Spain; while if he failed, and his attempt had an untoward issue, he would be revenged on that city and On those citizens who had so ungratefully and indiscreetly wronged him.

But if resentment for an offence like this so deeply moved a Roman citizen at a time when Rome was still uncorrupted, we should consider how it may act on the citizen of a State not constituted as Rome then was. And because there is no certain remedy we can apply to such disorders when they arise in republics, it follows that it is impossible to establish a republic which shall endure always; since in a thousand unforeseen ways ruin may overtake it.

CHAPTER XVIII. — That it is the highest Quality of a Captain to be able to forestall the designs of his Adversary.

It was a saying of Epaminondas the Theban that nothing was so useful and necessary for a commander as to be able to see through the intentions and designs of his adversary. And because it is hard to come at this knowledge directly, the more credit is due to him who reaches it by conjecture. Yet sometimes it is easier to fathom an enemy’s designs than to construe his actions; and not so much those actions which are done at a distance from us, as those done in our presence and under our very eyes. For instance, it has often happened that when a battle has lasted till nightfall, the winner has believed himself the loser, and the loser has believed himself the winner and that this mistake has led him who made it to follow a course hurtful to himself. It was from a mistake of this sort, that Brutus and Cassius lost the battle of Philippi. For though Brutus was victorious with his wing of the army Cassius, whose wing was beaten, believed the entire army to be defeated, and under this belief gave way to despair and slew himself. So too, in our own days, in the battle fought by Francis, king of France, with the Swiss at Santa Cecilia in Lombardy, when night fell, those of the Swiss who remained unbroken, not knowing that the rest had been routed and slain, thought they had the victory; and so believing would not retreat, but, remaining on the field, renewed the combat the following morning to their great disadvantage. Nor were they the only sufferers from their mistake, since the armies of the Pope and of Spain were also misled by it, and well-nigh brought to destruction. For on the false report of a victory they crossed the Po, and had they only advanced a little further must have been made prisoners by the victorious French.

An instance is recorded of a like mistake having been made in the camps both of the Romans and of the Equians. For the Consul Sempronius being in command against the Equians, and giving the enemy battle, the engagement lasted with varying success till nightfall, when as both armies had suffered what was almost a defeat, neither returned to their camp, but each drew off to the neighboring hills where they thought they would be safer. The Romans separated into two divisions, one of which with the consul, the other with the centurion Tempanius by whose valour the army had that day been saved from utter rout. At daybreak the consul, without waiting for further tidings of the enemy, made straight for Rome; and the Equians, in like manner, withdrew to their own country. For as each supposed the other to be victorious, neither thought much of leaving their camp to be plundered by the enemy. It so chanced, however, that Tempanius, who was himself retreating with the second division of the Roman army, fell in with certain wounded Equians, from whom he learned that their commanders had fled, abandoning their camp; on hearing which, he at once returned to the Roman camp and secured it, and then, after sacking the camp of the Equians, went back victorious to Rome. His success, as we see, turned entirely on his being the first to be informed of the enemy’s condition. And here we are to note that it may often happen that both the one and the other of two opposed armies shall fall into the same disorder, and be reduced to the same straits; in which case, that which soonest detects the other’s distress is sure to come off best.

I shall give an instance of this which occurred recently in our own country. In the year 1498, when the Florentines had a great army in the territory of Pisa and had closely invested the town, the Venetians, who had undertaken its protection, seeing no other way to save it, resolved to make a diversion in its favour by attacking the territories of the Florentines in another quarter. Wherefore, having assembled a strong force, they entered Tuscany by the Val di Lamona, and seizing on the village of Marradi, besieged the stronghold of Castiglione which stands on the height above it. Getting word of this, the Florentines sought to relieve Marradi, without weakening the army which lay round Pisa. They accordingly raised a new levy of foot-soldiers, and equipped a fresh squadron of horse, which they despatched to Marradi under the joint command of Jacopo IV. d’Appiano, lord of Piombino, and Count Rinuccio of Marciano. These troops taking up their position on the hill above Marradi, the Venetians withdrew from the investment of Castiglione and lodged themselves in the village. But when the two armies had confronted one another for several days, both began to suffer sorely from want of victuals and other necessaries, and neither of them daring to attack the other, or knowing to what extremities the other was reduced, both simultaneously resolved to strike their camps the following morning, and to retreat, the Venetians towards Berzighella and Faenza, the Florentines towards Casaglia and the Mugello. But at daybreak, when both armies had begun to remove their baggage, it so happened that an old woman, whose years and poverty permitted her to pass unnoticed, leaving the village of Marradi, came to the Florentine camp, where were certain of her kinsfolk whom she desired to visit. Learning from her that the Venetians were in retreat, the Florentine commanders took courage, and changing their plan, went in pursuit of the enemy as though they had dislodged them, sending word to Florence that they had repulsed the Venetians and gained a victory. But in truth this victory was wholly due to their having notice of the enemy’s movements before the latter had notice of theirs. For had that notice been given to the Venetians first, it would have wrought against us the same results as it actually wrought for us.

CHAPTER XIX. — Whether Indulgence or Severity be more necessary for controlling a Multitude.

The Roman Republic was distracted by the feuds of the nobles and commons. Nevertheless, on war breaking out, Quintius and Appius Claudius were sent forth in command of Roman armies. From his harshness and severity to his soldiers, Appius was so ill obeyed by them, that after sustaining what almost amounted to a defeat, he had to resign his command. Quintius, on the contrary, by kindly and humane treatment, kept his men obedient and returned victorious to Rome. From this it might seem that to govern a large body of men, it is better to be humane than haughty, and kindly rather than severe.

And yet Cornelius Tacitus, with whom many other authors are agreed, pronounces a contrary opinion where he says, “In governing a multitude it avails more to punish than to be compliant.” If it be asked how these opposite views can be reconciled, I answer that you exercise authority either over men used to regard you as their equal, or over men who have always been subject to you. When those over whom you exercise authority are your equals, you cannot trust wholly to punishment or to that severity of which Tacitus speaks. And since in Rome itself the commons had equal weight with the nobles, none appointed their captain for a time only, could control them by using harshness and severity. Accordingly we find that those Roman captains who gained the love of their soldiers and were considerate of them, often achieved greater results than those who made themselves feared by them in an unusual degree, unless, like Manlius Torquatus, these last were endowed with consummate valour. But he who has to govern subjects such as those of whom Tacitus speaks, to prevent their growing insolent and trampling upon him by reason of his too great easiness, must resort to punishment rather than to compliance. Still, to escape hatred, punishment should be moderate in degree, for to make himself hated is never for the interest of any prince. And to escape hatred, a prince has chiefly to guard against tampering with the property of any of his subjects; for where nothing is to be gained by it, no prince will desire to shed blood, unless, as seldom happens, constrained to do so by necessity. But where advantage is to be gained thereby, blood will always flow, and neither the desire to shed it, nor causes for shedding it will ever be wanting, as I have fully shown when discussing this subject in another treatise.

Quintius therefore was more deserving of praise than Appius. Nevertheless the opinion of Tacitus, duly restricted and not understood as applying to a case like that of Appius, merits approval. But since I have spoken of punishment and indulgence, it seems not out of place to show how a single act of humanity availed more than arms with the citizens of Falerii.

CHAPTER XX. — How one humane act availed more with the men of Falerii, than all the might of the Roman Arms.

When the besieging army of the Romans lay round Falerii, the master of a school wherein the best-born youths of the city were taught, thinking to curry favour with Camillus and the Romans, came forth from the town with these boys, on pretence of giving them exercise, and bringing them into the camp where Camillus was, presented them to him, saying, “To ransom these that city would yield itself into your hands.” Camillus, however, not only rejected this offer, but causing the schoolmaster to be stripped and his hands tied behind him, gave each of the boys a scourge, and bade them lead the fellow back to the town scourging him as they went. When the citizens of Falerii heard of this, so much were they pleased with the humanity and integrity of Camillus, that they resolved to surrender their town to him without further defence.

This authentic instance may lead us to believe that a humane and kindly action may sometimes touch men’s minds more nearly than a harsh and cruel one; and that those cities and provinces into which the instruments and engines of war, with every other violence to which men resort, have failed to force a way, may be thrown open to a single act of tenderness, mercy, chastity, or generosity. Whereof history supplies us with many examples besides the one which I have just now noticed. For we find that when the arms of Rome were powerless to drive Pyrrhus out of Italy, he was moved to depart by the generosity of Fabritius in disclosing to him the proposal which his slave had made the Romans to poison him. Again, we read how Scipio gained less reputation in Spain by the capture of New Carthage, than by his virtue in restoring a young and beautiful wife unviolated to her husband; the fame of which action won him the love of the whole province. We see, too, how much this generous temper is esteemed by a people in its great men; and how much it is praised by historians and by those who write the lives of princes, as well as by those who lay down rules of human conduct. Among whom Xenophon has taken great pains to show what honours, and victories, and how fair a fame accrued to Cyrus from his being kindly and gracious, without taint of pride, or cruelty, or luxury, or any other of those vices which cast a stain upon men’s lives.

And yet when we note that Hannibal, by methods wholly opposite to these, achieved splendid victories and a great renown, I think I am bound to say something in my next Chapter as to how this happened.

CHAPTER XXI. — How it happened that Hannibal pursuing a course contrary to that taken by Scipio, wrought the same results in Italy which the other achieved in Spain.

Some, I suspect, may marvel to find a captain, taking a contrary course, nevertheless arrive at the same ends as those who have pursued the methods above spoken of; since it must seem as though success did not depend on the causes I have named; nay, that if glory and fame are to be won in other ways, these causes neither add to our strength nor advance our fortunes. Wherefore, to make my meaning plain, and not to part company with the men of whom I have been speaking, I say, that as, on the one hand, we see Scipio enter Spain, and by his humane and generous conduct at once secure the good-will of the province, and the admiration and reverence of its inhabitants, so on the other hand, we see Hannibal enter Italy, and by methods wholly opposite, to wit, by violence and rapine, by cruelty and treachery of every kind, effect in that country the very same results. For all the States of Italy revolted in his favour, and all the Italian nations ranged themselves on his side.

When we seek to know why this was, several reasons present themselves, the first being that men so passionately love change, that, commonly speaking, those who are well off are as eager for it as those who are badly off: for as already has been said with truth, men are pampered by prosperity, soured by adversity. This love of change, therefore, makes them open the door to any one who puts himself at the head of new movements in their country, and if he be a foreigner they adopt his cause, if a fellow-countryman they gather round him and become his partisans and supporters; so that whatever methods he may there use, he will succeed in making great progress. Moreover, men being moved by two chief passions, love and fear, he who makes himself feared commands with no less authority than he who makes himself loved; nay, as a rule, is followed and obeyed more implicitly than the other. It matters little, however, which of these two ways a captain chooses to follow, provided he be of transcendent valour, and has thereby won for himself a great name For when, like Hannibal or Scipio, a man is very valiant, this quality will cloak any error he may commit in seeking either to be too much loved or too much feared. Yet from each of these two tendencies, grave mischiefs, and such as lead to the ruin of a prince, may arise. For he who would be greatly loved, if he swerve ever so little from the right road, becomes contemptible; while he who would be greatly feared, if he go a jot too far, incurs hatred. And since it is impossible, our nature not allowing it, to adhere to the exact mean, it is essential that any excess should be balanced by an exceeding valour, as it was in Hannibal and Scipio. And yet we find that even they, while they were exalted by the methods they followed, were also injured by them. How they were exalted has been shown. The injury which Scipio suffered was, that in Spain his soldiers, in concert with certain of his allies, rose against him, for no other reason than that they stood in no fear of him. For men are so restless, that if ever so small a door be opened to their ambition, they forthwith forget all the love they have borne their prince in return for his graciousness and goodness, as did these soldiers and allies of Scipio; when, to correct the mischief, he was forced to use something of a cruelty foreign to his nature.

As to Hannibal, we cannot point to any particular instance wherein his cruelty or want of faith are seen to have been directly hurtful to him; but we may well believe that Naples and other towns which remained loyal to the Roman people, did so by reason of the dread which his character inspired. This, however, is abundantly clear, that his inhumanity made him more detested by the Romans than any other enemy they ever had; so that while to Pyrrhus, in Italy with his army, they gave up the traitor who offered to poison him, Hannibal, even when disarmed and a fugitive, they never forgave, until they had compassed his death.

To Hannibal, therefore, from his being accounted impious, perfidious, and cruel, these disadvantages resulted; but, on the other hand, there accrued to him one great gain, noticed with admiration by all historians, namely, that in his army, although made up of men of every race and country, no dissensions ever broke out among the soldiers themselves, nor any mutiny against their leader. This we can only ascribe to the awe which his character inspired, which together with the great name his valour had won for him, had the effect of keeping his soldiers quiet and united. I repeat, therefore, that it is of little moment which method a captain may follow if he be endowed with such valour as will bear him out in the course which he adopts. For, as I have said, there are disadvantages incident to both methods unless corrected by extraordinary valour.

And now, since I have spoken of Scipio and Hannibal, the former of whom by praiseworthy, the latter by odious qualities, effected the same results, I must not, I think, omit to notice the characters of two Roman citizens, who by different, yet both by honourable methods, obtained a like glory.

CHAPTER XXII. — That the severity of Manlius Torquatus and the gentleness of Valerius Corvinus won for both the same Glory.

There lived in Rome, at the same time, two excellent captains, Manlius Torquatus and Valerius Corvinus, equal in their triumphs and in their renown, and in the valour which in obtaining these they had displayed against the enemy; but who in the conduct of their armies and treatment of their soldiers, followed very different methods. For Manlius, in his command, resorted to every kind of severity, never sparing his men fatigue, nor remitting punishment; while Valerius, on the contrary, treated them with all kindness and consideration, and was easy and familiar in his intercourse with them. So that while the one, to secure the obedience of his soldiers, put his own son to death, the other never dealt harshly with any man. Yet, for all this diversity in their modes of acting, each had the same success against the enemy, and each obtained the same advantages both for the republic and for himself. For no soldier of theirs ever flinched in battle, or rose in mutiny against them, or in any particular opposed their will; though the commands of Manlius were of such severity that any order of excessive rigour came to be spoken of as a Manlian order.

Here, then, we have to consider first of all why Manlius was obliged to use such severity; next, why Valerius could behave so humanely; thirdly, how it was that these opposite methods had the same results; and lastly, which of the two methods it is better and more useful for us to follow. Now, if we well examine the character of Manlius from the moment when Titus Livius first begins to make mention of him, we shall find him to have been endowed with a rare vigour both of mind and body, dutiful in his behaviour to his father and to his country, and most reverent to his superiors. All which we see in his slaying the Gaul, in his defence of his father against the tribune, and in the words in which, before going forth to fight the Gaul, he addressed the consul, when he said, “Although assured of victory, never will I without thy bidding engage an enemy.” But when such a man as this attains to command, he looks to find all others like himself; his dauntless spirit prompts him to engage in daring enterprises, and to insist on their being carried out. And this is certain, that where things hard to execute are ordered to be done, the order must be enforced with sternness, since, otherwise, it will be disobeyed.

And here be it noted that if you would be obeyed you must know how to command, and that they alone have this knowledge who have measured their power to enforce, with the willingness of others to yield obedience; and who issue their orders when they find these conditions combining, but, otherwise, abstain. Wherefore, a wise man was wont to say that to hold a republic by force, there must be a proportion between him who uses the force and him against whom it is used; and that while this proportion obtains the force will operate; but that when he who suffers is stronger than he who uses the force, we may expect to see it brought to an end at any moment.

But returning to the matter in hand, I say that to command things hard of execution, requires hardness in him who gives the command, and that a man of this temper and who issues such commands, cannot look to enforce them by gentleness. He who is not of such a temper must be careful not to impose tasks of extraordinary difficulty, but may use his natural gentleness in imposing such as are ordinary. For common punishments are not imputed to the prince, but to the laws and ordinances which he has to administer.

We must believe, therefore, that Manlius was constrained to act with severity by the unusual character of the commands which his natural disposition prompted him to issue. Such commands are useful in a republic, as restoring its ordinances to their original efficacy and excellence. And were a republic, as I have before observed, fortunate enough to come frequently under the influence of men who, by their example, reinforce its laws, and not only retard its progress towards corruption, but bring it back to its first perfection, it might endure for ever.

Manlius, therefore, was of those who by the severity of their commands maintained the military discipline of Rome; urged thereto, in the first place, by his natural temper, and next by the desire that whatever he was minded to command should be done. Valerius, on the other hand, could afford to act humanely, because for him it was enough if all were done which in a Roman army it was customary to do. And, since the customs of that army were good customs, they sufficed to gain him honour, while at the same time their maintenance cost him no effort, nor threw on him the burthen of punishing transgressors; as well because there were none who trangressed, as because had there been any, they would, as I have said, have imputed their punishment to the ordinary rules of discipline, and not to the severity of their commander. In this way Valerius had room to exercise that humane disposition which enabled him at once to gain influence over his soldiers and to content them. Hence it was that both these captains obtaining the same obedience, could, while following different methods, arrive at the same ends. Those, however, who seek to imitate them may chance to fall into the errors of which I have already spoken, in connection with Hannibal and Scipio, as breeding contempt or hatred, and which are only to be corrected by the presence of extraordinary valour, and not otherwise.

It rests now to determine which of these two methods is the more to be commended. This, I take it, is matter of dispute, since both methods have their advocates. Those writers, however, who have laid down rules for the conduct of princes, describe a character approaching more nearly to that of Valerius than to that of Manlius; and Xenophon, whom I have already cited, while giving many instances of the humanity of Cyrus, conforms closely to what Livius tells us of Valerius. For Valerius being made consul against the Samnites, on the eve of battle spoke to his men with the same kindliness with which he always treated them; and Livius, after telling us what he said, remarks of him: “Never was there a leader more familiar with his men; cheerfully sharing with the meanest among them every hardship and fatigue. Even in the military games, wherein those of the same rank were wont to make trial of their strength or swiftness, he would good-naturedly take a part, nor disdain any adversary who offered; meeting victory or defeat with an unruffled temper and an unchanged countenance. When called on to act, his bounty and generosity never fell short. When he had to speak, he was as mindful of the feelings of others as of his own dignity. And, what more than anything else secures the popular favour, he maintained when exercising his magistracies the same bearing he had worn in seeking them.”

Of Manlius also, Titus Livius speaks in like honourable terms, pointing out that his severity in putting his son to death brought the Roman army to that pitch of discipline which enabled it to prevail against the Latins, nay, he goes so far in his praises that after describing the whole order of the battle, comparing the strength of both armies, and showing all the dangers the Romans ran, and the difficulties they had to surmount, he winds up by saying, that it was the valour of Manlius which alone gained for them this great victory, and that whichever side had Manlius for its leader must have won the day. So that weighing all that the historians tell us of these two captains, it might be difficult to decide between them.

Nevertheless, not to leave the question entirely open, I say, that for a citizen living under a republic, I think the conduct of Manlius more deserving of praise and less dangerous in its consequences. For methods like his tend only to the public good and in no way subserve private ends. He who shows himself harsh and stern at all times and to all men alike, and is seen to care only for the common welfare, will never gain himself partisans, since this is not the way to win personal friends, to whom, as I said before, the name of partisans is given. For a republic, therefore, no line of conduct could be more useful or more to be desired than this, because in following it the public interest is not neglected, and no room is given to suspect personal ambition.

But the contrary holds as to the methods followed by Valerius. For though the public service they render be the same, misgivings must needs arise that the personal good-will which, in the course of a prolonged command, a captain obtains from his soldiers, may lead to consequences fatal to the public liberty. And if this was not found to happen in the case of Valerius, it was because the minds of the Roman people were not yet corrupted, and because they had never remained for a long time and continuously under his command.

Had we, however, like Xenophon, to consider what is most for the interest of a prince, we should have to give up Manlius and hold by Valerius; for, undoubtedly, a prince should strive to gain the love of his soldiers and subjects, as well as their obedience. The latter he can secure by discipline and by his reputation for valour. But for the former he will be indebted to his affability, kindliness, gentleness, and all those other like qualities which were possessed by Valerius, and which are described by Xenophon as existing in Cyrus. That a prince should be personally loved and have his army wholly devoted to him is consistent with the character of his government; but that this should happen to a person of private station does not consist with his position as a citizen who has to live in conformity with the laws and in subordination to the magistrates. We read in the early annals of the Venetian Republic, that once, on the return of the fleet, a dispute broke out between the sailors and the people, resulting in tumults and armed violence which neither the efforts of the public officers, the respect felt for particular citizens, nor the authority of the magistrates could quell. But on a certain gentleman, who the year before had been in command of these sailors, showing himself among them, straightway, from the love they bore him, they submitted to his authority and withdrew from the fray. Which deference on their part aroused such jealousy and suspicion in the minds of the Venetian senators that very soon after they got rid of this gentleman, either by death or exile.

The sum of the matter, therefore, is, that the methods followed by Valerius are useful in a prince, but pernicious in a private citizen, both for his country and for himself, for his country, because such methods pave the way to a tyranny; for himself, because his fellow-citizens, growing suspicious of his conduct, are constrained to protect themselves to his hurt. And conversely, I maintain, that the methods of Manlius, while hurtful in a prince are useful in a citizen, and in the highest degree for his country; and, moreover, seldom give offence, unless the hatred caused by his severity be augmented by the jealousy which the fame of his other virtues inspires: a matter now to be considered in connection with the banishment of Camillas.

CHAPTER XXIII. — Why Camillus was banished from Rome.

It has been shown above how methods like those of Valerius are hurtful to the citizen who employs them and to his country, while methods like those of Manlius are advantageous for a man’s country, though sometimes they be hurtful to the man himself. This is well seen in the example of Camillus, whose bearing more nearly resembled that of Manlius than that of Valerius, so that Titus Livius, in speaking of him, says, “His virtues were at once hated and admired by his soldiers.” What gained him their admiration was his care for their safety, his prudence, his magnanimity, and the good order he maintained in conducting and commanding them. What made him hated was his being more stern to punish than bountiful to reward; and Livius instances the following circumstances as giving rise to this hatred. First, his having applied the money got by the sale of the goods of the Veientines to public purposes, and not divided it along with the rest of the spoils. Second, his having, on the occasion of his triumph, caused his chariot to be drawn by four white horses, seeking in his pride, men said, to make himself the equal of the sun god. And, third, his having vowed to Apollo a tenth of the Veientine plunder, which, if he was to fulfil his vow, he had to recover from his soldiers, into whose hands it had already come.

Herein we may well and readily discern what causes tend to make a prince hateful to his people; the chief whereof is the depriving them of some advantage. And this is a matter of much importance. For when a man is deprived of what is in itself useful, he never forgets it, and every trifling occasion recalls it to his mind; and because such occasions recur daily, he is every day reminded of his loss. Another error which we are here taught to guard against, is the appearing haughty and proud, than which nothing is more distasteful to a people, and most of all to a free people; for although such pride and haughtiness do them no hurt, they nevertheless hold in detestation any who display these qualities. Every show of pride, therefore, a prince should shun as he would a rock, since to invite hatred without resulting advantage were utterly rash and futile.

CHAPTER XXIV. — That prolonged Commands brought Rome to Servitude.

If we well examine the course of Roman history, we shall find two causes leading to the break-up of that republic: one, the dissensions which arose in connection with the agrarian laws; the other, the prolongation of commands. For had these matters been rightly understood from the first, and due remedies applied, the freedom of Rome had been far more lasting, and, possibly, less disturbed. And although, as touching the prolongation of commands, we never find any tumult breaking out in Rome on that account, we do in fact discern how much harm was done to the city by the ascendency which certain of its citizens thereby gained. This mischief indeed would not have arisen, if other citizens whose period of office was extended had been as good and wise as Lucius Quintius, whose virtue affords a notable example. For terms of accord having been settled between the senate and commons of Rome, the latter, thinking their tribunes well able to withstand the ambition of the nobles, prolonged their authority for a year. Whereupon, the senate, not to be outdone by the commons, proposed, out of rivalry, to extend the consulship of Quintius. He, however, refused absolutely to lend himself to their designs, and insisted on their appointing new consuls, telling them that they should seek to discredit evil examples, not add to them by setting worse. Had this prudence and virtue of his been shared by all the citizens of Rome, the practice of prolonging the terms of civil offices would not have been suffered to establish itself, nor have led to the kindred practice of extending the term of military commands, which in progress of time effected the ruin of their republic.

The first military commander whose term was extended, was Publius Philo; for when his consulship was about to expire, he being then engaged in the siege of Palæopolis, the senate, seeing he had the victory in his hands, would not displace him by a successor, but appointed him Proconsul, which office he was the first to hold. Now, although in thus acting the senate did what they thought best for the public good, nevertheless it was this act of theirs that in time brought Rome to slavery. For the further the Romans carried their arms, the more necessary it seemed to them to grant similar extensions of command, and the oftener they, in fact, did so. This gave rise to two disadvantages: first that a smaller number of men were trained to command; second, that by the long continuance of his command a captain gained so much influence and ascendency over his soldiers that in time they came to hold the senate of no account, and looked only to him. This it was, that enabled Sylla and Marius to find adherents ready to follow them even to the public detriment, and enabled Cæsar to overthrow the liberties of his country; whereas, had the Romans never prolonged the period of authority, whether civil or military, though they might have taken longer to build up their empire, they certainly had been later in incurring servitude.

CHAPTER XXV. — Of the poverty of Cincinnatus and of many other Roman Citizens.

Elsewhere I have shown that no ordinance is of such advantage to a commonwealth, as one which enforces poverty on its citizens. And although it does not appear what particular law it was that had this operation in Rome (especially since we know the agrarian law to have been stubbornly resisted), we find, as a fact, that four hundred years after the city was founded, great poverty still prevailed there; and may assume that nothing helped so much to produce this result as the knowledge that the path to honours and preferment was closed to none, and that merit was sought after wheresoever it was to be found; for this manner of conferring honours made riches the less courted. In proof whereof I shall cite one instance only.

When the consul Minutius was beset in his camp by the Equians, the Roman people were filled with such alarm lest their army should be destroyed, that they appointed a dictator, always their last stay in seasons of peril. Their choice fell on Lucius Quintius Cincinnatus, who at the time was living on his small farm of little more than four acres, which he tilled with his own hand. The story is nobly told by Titus Livius where he says: “This is worth listening to by those who contemn all things human as compared with riches, and think that glory and excellence can have no place unless accompanied by lavish wealth.” Cincinnatus, then, was ploughing in his little field, when there arrived from Rome the messengers sent by the senate to tell him he had been made dictator, and inform him of the dangers which threatened the Republic. Putting on his gown, he hastened to Rome, and getting together an army, marched to deliver Minutius. But when he had defeated and spoiled the enemy, and released Minutius, he would not suffer the army he had rescued to participate in the spoils, saying, “I will not have you share in the plunder of those to whom you had so nearly fallen a prey.” Minutius he deprived of his consulship, and reduced to be a subaltern, in which rank he bade him remain till he had learned how to command. And before this he had made Lucius Tarquininus, although forced by his poverty to serve on foot, his master of the knights.

Here, then, we see what honour was paid in Rome to poverty, and how four acres of land sufficed to support so good and great a man as Cincinnatus. We find the same Poverty still prevailing in the time of Marcus Regulus, who when serving with the army in Africa sought leave of senate to return home that he might look after his farm which his labourers had suffered to run to waste. Here again we learn two things worthy our attention: first, the poverty of these men and their contentment under it, and how their sole study was to gain renown from war, leaving all its advantages to the State. For had they thought of enriching themselves by war, it had given them little concern that their fields were running to waste Further, we have to remark the magnanimity of these citizens, who when placed at the head of armies surpassed all princes in the loftiness of their spirit, who cared neither for king nor for commonwealth, and whom nothing could daunt or dismay; but who, on returning to private life, became once more so humble, so frugal, so careful of their slender means, and so submissive to the magistrates and reverential to their superiors, that it might seem impossible for the human mind to undergo so violent a change.

This poverty prevailed down to the days of Paulus Emilius, almost the last happy days for this republic wherein a citizen, while enriching Rome by his triumphs, himself remained poor. And yet so greatly was poverty still esteemed at this time, that when Paulus, in conferring rewards on those who had behaved well in the war, presented his own son-in-law with a silver cup, it was the first vessel of silver ever seen in his house.

I might run on to a great length pointing out how much better are the fruits of poverty than those of riches, and how poverty has brought cities, provinces, and nations to honour, while riches have wrought their ruin, had not this subject been often treated by others.

CHAPTER XXVI. — How Women are a cause of the ruin of States.

A feud broke out in Ardea touching the marriage of an heiress, whose hand was sought at the same time by two suitors, the one of plebeian, the other of noble birth. For her father being dead, her guardian wished her to wed the plebeian, her mother the noble. And so hot grew the dispute that resort was had to arms, the whole nobility siding with their fellow-noble, and all the plebeians with the plebeian. The latter faction being worsted, left the town, and sent to the Volscians for help; whereupon, the nobles sought help from Rome. The Volscians were first in the field, and on their arrival encamped round Ardea. The Romans, coming up later, shut in the Volscians between themselves and the town, and, reducing them by famine, forced them to surrender at discretion. They then entered Ardea, and putting all the ringleaders in this dispute to the sword, composed the disorders of the city.

In connection with this affair there are several points to be noted. And in the first place we see how women have been the occasion of many divisions and calamities in States, and have wrought great harm to rulers; as when, according to our historian, the violence done to Lucretia drove the Tarquins from their kingdom, and that done to Virginia broke the power of the decemvirs. And among the chief causes which Aristotle assigns for the downfall of tyrants are the wrongs done by them to their subjects in respect of their women, whether by adultery, rape, or other like injury to their honour, as has been sufficiently noticed in the Chapter wherein we treated “of Conspiracies”

I say, then, that neither absolute princes nor the rulers of free States should underrate the importance of matter, but take heed to the disorders which it may breed and provide against them while remedies can still be used without discredit to themselves or to their governments And this should have been done by the rulers of Ardea who by suffering the rivalry between their citizens to come to a head, promoted their divisions, and when they sought to reunite them had to summon foreign help, than which nothing sooner leads to servitude.

But now let us turn to another subject which merits attention, namely, the means whereby divided cities may be reunited; and of this I propose to speak in the following Chapter.

CHAPTER XXVII.

How a divided City may be reunited, and how it is a false opinion that to hold Cities in subjection they must be kept divided.

From the example of the Roman consuls who reconciled the citizens of Ardea, we are taught the method whereby the feuds of a divided city may be composed, namely, by putting the ringleaders of the disturbances to death; and that no other remedy should be used. Three courses, indeed, are open to you, since you may either put to death, as these consuls did, or banish, or bind the citizens to live at peace with one another, taking security for their good behaviour. Of which three ways the last is the most hurtful, the most uncertain, and the least effectual; because when much blood has been shed, or other like outrage done, it cannot be that a peace imposed on compulsion should endure between men who are every day brought face to face with one another; for since fresh cause of contention may at any moment result from their meeting, it will be impossible for them to refrain from mutual injury. Of this we could have no better instance than in the city of Pistoja.

Fifteen years ago this city was divided between the Panciatichi and Cancellieri, as indeed it still continues, the only difference being that then they were in arms, whereas, now, they have laid them aside. After much controversy and wrangling, these factions would presently proceed to bloodshed, to pulling down houses, plundering property, and all the other violent courses usual in divided cities. The Florentines, with whom it lay to compose these feuds, strove for a long time to do so by using the third of the methods mentioned; but when this only led to increased tumult and disorder, losing patience, they decided to try the second method and get rid of the ringleaders of both factions by imprisoning some and banishing others. In this way a sort of settlement was arrived at, which continues in operation up to the present hour. There can be no question, however, that the first of the methods named would have been the surest. But because extreme measures have in them an element of greatness and nobility, a weak republic, so far from knowing how to use this first method, can with difficulty be brought to employ even the second. This, as I said at the beginning, is the kind of blunder made by the princes of our times when they have to decide on matters of moment, from their not considering how those men acted who in ancient days had to determine under like conditions. For the weakness of the present race of men (the result of their enfeebling education and their ignorance of affairs), makes them regard the methods followed by the ancients as partly inhuman and partly impracticable. Accordingly, they have their own newfangled ways of looking at things, wholly at variance with the true, as when the sages of our city, some time since, pronounced that Pistoja was to be held by feuds and Pisa by fortresses, not perceiving how useless each of these methods is in itself.

Having spoken of fortresses already at some length, I shall not further refer to them here, but shall consider the futility of trying to hold subject cities by keeping them divided. In the first place, it is impossible for the ruling power, whether prince or republic, to be friends with both factions. For wherever there is division, it is human nature to take a side, and to favour one party more than another. But if one party in a subject city be unfriendly to you, the consequence will be that you will lose that city so soon as you are involved in war, since it is impossible for you to hold a city where you have enemies both within and without. Should the ruling power be a republic, there is nothing so likely to corrupt its citizens and sow dissension among them, as having to control a divided city. For as each faction in that city will seek support and endeavour to make friends in a variety of corrupt ways, two very serious evils will result: first, that the governed city will never be contented with its governors, since there can be no good government where you often change its form, adapting yourself to the humours now of one party and now of another; and next, that the factious spirit of the subject city is certain to infect your own republic. To which Biondo testifies, when, in speaking of the citizens of Florence and Pistoja, he says, “In seeking to unite Pistoja the Florentines themselves fell out.” It is easy, therefore, to understand how much mischief attends on such divisions. In the year 1501, when we lost Arezzo, and when all the Val di Tevere and Val di Chiana were occupied by the Vitelli and by Duke Valentino, a certain M. de Lant was sent by the King of France to cause the whole of the lost towns to be restored to the Florentines; who finding in all these towns men who came to him claiming to be of the party of the Marnocco, greatly blamed this distinction, observing, that if in France any of the king’s subjects were to say that he was of the king’s party, he would be punished; since the expression would imply that there was a party hostile to the king, whereas it was his majesty’s desire that all his subjects should be his friends and live united without any distinction of party. But all these mistaken methods and opinions originate in the weakness of rulers, who, seeing that they cannot hold their States by their own strength and valour, have recourse to like devices; which, if now and then in tranquil times they prove of some slight assistance to them, in times of danger are shown to be worthless.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

That a Republic must keep an eye on what its Citizens are about; since often the seeds of a Tyranny lie hidden under a semblance of generous deeds.

The granaries of Rome not sufficing to meet a famine with which the city was visited, a certain Spurius Melius, a very wealthy citizen for these days, privately laid in a supply of corn wherewith to feed the people at his own expense; gaining thereby such general favour with the commons, that the senate, apprehending that his bounty might have dangerous consequences, in order to crush him before he grew too powerful, appointed a dictator to deal with him and caused him to be put to death.

Here we have to note that actions which seem good in themselves and unlikely to occasion harm to any one, very often become hurtful, nay, unless corrected in time, most dangerous for a republic. And to treat the matter with greater fulness, I say, that while a republic can never maintain itself long, or manage its affairs to advantage, without citizens of good reputation, on the other hand the credit enjoyed by particular citizens often leads to the establishment of a tyranny. For which reasons, and that things may take a safe course, it should be so arranged that a citizen shall have credit only for such behaviour as benefits, and not for such as injures the State and its liberties. We must therefore examine by what ways credit is acquired. These, briefly, are two, public or secret. Public, when a citizen gains a great name by advising well or by acting still better for the common advantage. To credit of this sort we should open a wide door, holding out rewards both for good counsels and for good actions, so that he who renders such services may be at once honoured and satisfied. Reputation acquired honestly and openly by such means as these can never be dangerous. But credit acquired by secret practices, which is the other method spoken of, is most perilous and prejudicial. Of such secret practices may be instanced, acts of kindness done to this or the other citizen in lending him money, in assisting him to marry his daughters, in defending him against the magistrates, and in conferring such other private favours as gain men devoted adherents, and encourage them after they have obtained such support, to corrupt the institutions of the State and to violate its laws.

A well-governed republic, therefore, ought, as I have said, to throw wide the door to all who seek public favour by open courses, and to close it against any who would ingratiate themselves by underhand means. And this we find was done in Rome. For the Roman republic, as a reward to any citizen who served it well, ordained triumphs and all the other honours which it had to bestow; while against those who sought to aggrandize themselves by secret intrigues, it ordained accusations and impeachment; and when, from the people being blinded by a false show of benevolence, these proved insufficient, it provided for a dictator, who with regal authority might bring to bounds any who had strayed beyond them, as instanced in the case of Spurius Melius. And if conduct like his be ever suffered to pass unchastised, it may well be the ruin of a republic, for men when they have such examples set them are not easily led back into the right path.

CHAPTER XXIX. — That the Faults of a People are due to its Prince.

Let no prince complain of the faults committed by a people under his control; since these must be ascribed either to his negligence, or to his being himself blemished by similar defects. And were any one to consider what peoples in our own times have been most given to robbery and other like offences, he would find that they have only copied their rulers, who have themselves been of a like nature. Romagna, before those lords who ruled it were driven out by Pope Alexander VI., was a nursery of all the worst crimes, the slightest occasion giving rise to wholesale rapine and murder. This resulted from the wickedness of these lords, and not, as they asserted, from the evil disposition of their subjects. For these princes being poor, yet choosing to live as though they were rich, were forced to resort to cruelties innumerable and practised in divers ways; and among other shameful devices contrived by them to extort money, they would pass laws prohibiting certain acts, and then be the first to give occasion for breaking them; nor would they chastise offenders until they saw many involved in the same offence; when they fell to punishing, not from any zeal for the laws which they had made, but out of greed to realize the penalty. Whence flowed many mischiefs, and more particularly this, that the people being impoverished, but not corrected, sought to make good their injuries at the expense of others weaker than themselves. And thus there sprang up all those evils spoken of above, whereof the prince is the true cause.

The truth of what I say is confirmed by Titus Livius where he relates how the Roman envoys, who were conveying the spoils of the Veientines as an offering to Apollo, were seized and brought on shore by the corsairs of the Lipari islands in Sicily; when Timasitheus, the prince of these islands, on learning the nature of the offering, its destination, and by whom sent, though himself of Lipari, behaved as a Roman might, showing his people what sacrilege it would be to intercept such a gift, and speaking to such purpose that by general consent the envoys were suffered to proceed upon their voyage, taking all their possessions with them. With reference to which incident the historian observes: “The multitude, who always take their colour from their ruler, were filled by Timasitheus with a religious awe.” And to like purport we find it said by Lorenzo de’ Medici: —

“A prince’s acts his people imitate;
 For on their lord the eyes of all men wait.”

CHAPTER XXX. — That a Citizen who seeks by his personal influence to render signal service to his Country, must first stand clear of Envy. How a City should prepare for its defence on the approach of an Enemy.

When the Roman senate learned that all Etruria was assembled in arms to march against Rome, and that the Latins and Hernicians, who before had been the friends of the Romans, had ranged themselves with the Volscians the ancient enemies of the Roman name, they foresaw that a perilous contest awaited them. But because Camillus was at that time tribune with consular authority they thought all might be managed without the appointment of a dictator, provided the other tribunes, his colleagues would agree to his assuming the sole direction of affairs. This they willingly did; “nor,” says Titus Livius, “did they account anything as taken from their own dignity which was added to his.”

On receiving their promise of obedience, Camillus gave orders that three armies should be enrolled. Of the first, which was to be directed against the Etruscans, he himself assumed command. The command of the second, which he meant to remain near Rome and meet any movement of the Latins and Hernicians, he gave to Quintius Servilius. The third army, which he designed for the protection of the city, and the defence of the gates and Curia, he entrusted to Lucius Quintius. And he further directed, that Horatius, one of his colleagues, should furnish supplies of arms, and corn, and of all else needful in time of war. Finally he put forward his colleague Cornelius to preside in the senate and public council, that from day to day he might advise what should be done. For in those times these tribunes were ready either to command or obey as the welfare of their country might require.

We may gather from this passage how a brave and prudent man should act, how much good he may effect, and how serviceable he may be to his country, when by the force of his character and worth he succeeds in extinguishing envy. For this often disables men from acting to the best advantage, not permitting them to obtain that authority which it is essential they should have in matters of importance. Now, envy may be extinguished in one or other of two ways: first, by the approach of some flagrant danger, whereby seeing themselves like to be overwhelmed, all forego their own private ambition and lend a willing obedience to him who counts on his valour to rescue them. As in the case of Camillas, who from having given many proofs of surpassing ability, and from having been three times dictator and always exercised the office for the public good and not for his private advantage, had brought men to fear nothing from his advancement; while his fame and reputation made it no shame for them to recognize him as their superior. Wisely, therefore, does Titus Livius use concerning him the words which I have cited.

The other way in which envy may be extinguished, is by the death, whether by violence or in the ordinary course of nature, of those who have been your rivals in the pursuit of fame or power, and who seeing you better esteemed than themselves, could never acquiesce in your superiority or put up with it in patience. For when these men have been brought up in a corrupt city, where their training is little likely to improve them, nothing that can happen will induce them to withdraw their pretensions; nay, to have their own way and satisfy their perverse humour, they will be content to look on while their country is ruined. For envy such as this there is no cure save by the death of those of whom it has taken possession. And when fortune so befriends a great man that his rivals are removed from his path by a natural death, his glory is established without scandal or offence, since he is then able to display his great qualities unhindered. But when fortune is not thus propitious to him, he must contrive other means to rid himself of rivals, and must do so successfully before he can accomplish anything. Any one who reads with intelligence the lessons of Holy Writ, will remember how Moses, to give effect to his laws and ordinances, was constrained to put to death an endless number of those who out of mere envy withstood his designs. The necessity of this course was well understood by the Friar Girolamo Savonarola, and by the Gonfalonier Piero Soderini. But the former could not comply with it, because, as a friar, he himself lacked the needful authority; while those of his followers who might have exercised that authority, did not rightly comprehend his teaching. This, however, was no fault of his; for his sermons are full of invectives and attacks against “the wise of this world,” that being the name he gave to envious rivals and to all who opposed his reforms. As for Piero Soderini, he was possessed by the belief that in time and with favourable fortune he could allay envy by gentleness-and by benefits conferred on particular men; for as he was still in the prime of life, and in the fresh enjoyment of that good-will which his character and opinions had gained for him, he thought to get the better of all who out of jealousy opposed him, without giving occasion for tumult, violence, or disorder; not knowing how time stays not, worth suffices not, fortune shifts, and malice will not be won over by any benefit Wherefore, because they could not or knew not how to vanquish this envy, the two whom I have named came to their downfall.

Another point to be noted in the passage we are considering, is the careful provision made by Camillus for the safety of Rome both within and without the city. And, truly, not without reason do wise historians, like our author, set forth certain events with much minuteness and detail, to the end that those who come after may learn how to protect themselves in like dangers. Further, we have to note that there is no more hazardous or less useful defence than one conducted without method or system. This is shown in Camillus causing a third army to be enrolled that it might be left in Rome for the protection of the city. Many persons, doubtless, both then and now, would esteem this precaution superfluous, thinking that as the Romans were a warlike people and constantly under arms, there could be no occasion for a special levy, and that it was time enough to arm when the need came. But Camillus, and any other equally prudent captain would be of the same mind, judged otherwise, not permitting the multitude to take up arms unless they were to be bound by the rules and discipline of military service. Let him, therefore, who is called on to defend a city, taking example by Camillus, before all things avoid placing arms in the hands of an undisciplined multitude, but first of all select and enroll those whom he proposes to arm, so that they may be wholly governed by him as to where they shall assemble and whither they shall march; and then let him direct those who are not enrolled, to abide every man in his own house for its defence. Whosoever observes this method in a city which is attacked, will be able to defend it with ease; but whosoever disregards it, and follows not the example of Camillus, shall never succeed.

CHAPTER XXXI. — That strong Republics and valiant Men preserve through every change the same Spirit and Bearing.

Among other high sayings which our historian ascribes to Camillus, as showing of what stuff a truly great man should be made, he puts in his mouth the words, “My courage came not with my dictatorship nor went with my exile;” for by these words we are taught that a great man is constantly the same through all vicissitudes of Fortune; so that although she change, now exalting, now depressing, he remains unchanged, and retains always a mind so unmoved, and in such complete accordance with his nature as declares to all that over him Fortune has no dominion.

Very different is the behaviour of those weak-minded mortals who, puffed up and intoxicated with their success, ascribe all their felicity to virtues which they never knew, and thus grow hateful and insupportable to all around them. Whence also the changes in their fortunes. For whenever they have to look adversity in the face, they suddenly pass to the other extreme, becoming abject and base. And thus it happens that feeble-minded princes, when they fall into difficulties, think rather of flight than of defence, because, having made bad use of their prosperity, they are wholly unprepared to defend themselves.

The same merits and defects which I say are found in individual men, are likewise found in republics, whereof we have example in the case of Rome and of Venice. For no reverse of fortune ever broke the spirit of the Roman people, nor did any success ever unduly elate them; as we see plainly after their defeat at Cannæ, and after the victory they had over Antiochus. For the defeat at Cannæ, although most momentous, being the third they had met with, no whit daunted them; so that they continued to send forth armies, refused to ransom prisoners as contrary to their custom, and despatched no envoy to Hannibal or to Carthage to sue for peace; but without ever looking back on past humiliations, thought always of war, though in such straits for soldiers that they had to arm their old men and slaves. Which facts being made known to Hanno the Carthaginian, he, as I have already related, warned the Carthaginian senate not to lay too much stress upon their victory. Here, therefore, we see that in times of adversity the Romans were neither cast down nor dismayed. On the other hand, no prosperity ever made them arrogant. Before fighting the battle wherein he was finally routed, Antiochus sent messengers to Scipio to treat for an accord; when Scipio offered peace on condition that he withdrew at once into Syria, leaving all his other dominions to be dealt with by the Romans as they thought fit. Antiochus refusing these terms, fought and was defeated, and again sent envoys to Scipio, enjoining them to accept whatever conditions the victor might be pleased to impose. But Scipio proposed no different terms from those he had offered before saying that “the Romans, as they lost not heart on defeat, so waxed not insolent with success.”

The contrary of all this is seen in the behaviour of the Venetians, who thinking their good fortune due to valour of which they were devoid, in their pride addressed the French king as “Son of St. Mark;” and making no account of the Church, and no longer restricting their ambition to the limits of Italy, came to dream of founding an empire like the Roman. But afterwards, when their good fortune deserted them, and they met at Vailà a half-defeat at the hands of the French king, they lost their whole dominions, not altogether from revolt, but mainly by a base and abject surrender to the Pope and the King of Spain. Nay, so low did they stoop as to send ambassadors to the Emperor offering to become his tributaries, and to write letters to the Pope, full of submission and servility, in order to move his compassion. To such abasement were they brought in four days’ time by what was in reality only a half-defeat. For on their flight after the battle of Vailà only about a half of their forces were engaged, and one of their two provedditori escaped to Verona with five and twenty thousand men, horse and foot. So that had there been a spark of valour in Venice, or any soundness in her military system, she might easily have renewed her armies, and again confronting fortune have stood prepared either to conquer, or, if she must fall, to fall more gloriously; and at any rate might have obtained for herself more honourable terms. But a pusillanimous spirit, occasioned by the defects of her ordinances in so far as they relate to war, caused her to lose at once her courage and her dominions. And so will it always happen with those who behave like the Venetians. For when men grow insolent in good fortune, and abject inn evil, the fault lies in themselves and in the character of their training, which, when slight and frivolous, assimilates them to itself; but when otherwise, makes them of another temper, and giving them better acquaintance with the world, causes them to be less disheartened by misfortunes and less elated by success.

And while this is true of individual men, it holds good also of a concourse of men living together in one republic, who will arrive at that measure of perfection which the institutions of their State permit. And although I have already said on another occasion that a good militia is the foundation of all States, and where that is wanting there can neither be good laws, nor aught else that is good, it seems to me not superfluous to say the same again; because in reading this history of Titus Livius the necessity of such a foundation is made apparent in every page. It is likewise shown that no army can be good unless it be thoroughly trained and exercised, and that this can only be the case with an army raised from your own subjects. For as a State is not and cannot always be at war, you must have opportunity to train your army in times of peace; but this, having regard to the cost, you can only have in respect of your own subjects.

When Camillus, as already related, went forth to meet the Etruscans, his soldiers on seeing the great army of their enemy, were filled with fear, thinking themselves too to withstand its onset. This untoward disposition being reported to Camillus, he showed himself to his men and by visiting their tents, and conversing with this and the other among them, was able to remove their misgivings; and, finally, without other word of command, he bade them “each do his part as he had learned and been accustomed.” Now, any one who well considers the methods followed by Camillus, and the words spoken by him to encourage his soldiers to face their enemy, will perceive that these words and methods could never have been used with an army which had not been trained and disciplined in time of peace as well as of war. For no captain can trust to untrained soldiers or look for good service at their hands; nay, though he were another Hannibal, with such troops his defeat were certain. For, as a captain cannot be present everywhere while a battle is being fought, unless he have taken all measures beforehand to render his men of the same temper as himself, and have made sure that they perfectly understand his orders and arrangements, he will inevitably be destroyed.

When a city therefore is armed and trained as Rome was, and when its citizens have daily opportunity, both singly and together, to make trial of their valour and learn what fortune can effect, it will always happen, that at all times, and whether circumstances be adverse or favourable, they will remain of unaltered courage and preserve the same noble bearing. But when its citizens are unpractised in arms, and trust not to their own valour but wholly to the arbitration of Fortune, they will change their temper as she changes, and offer always the same example of behaviour as was given by the Venetians.

CHAPTER XXXII. — Of the methods which some have used to make Peace impossible.

The towns of Cære and Velitræ, two of her own colonies, revolted from Rome in expectation of being protected by the Latins. But the Latins being routed and all hopes of help from that quarter at an end, many of the townsmen recommended that envoys should be sent to Rome to make their peace with the senate. This proposal, however, was defeated by those who had been the prime movers of the revolt, who, fearing that the whole punishment might fall on their heads, to put a stop to any talk of an adjustment, incited the multitude to take up arms and make a foray into the Roman territory.

And, in truth, when it is desired that a prince or people should banish from their minds every thought of reconciliation, there is no surer or more effectual plan than to incite them to inflict grave wrong on him with whom you would not have them be reconciled; for, then, the fear of that punishment which they will seem to themselves to have deserved, will always keep them apart. At the close of the first war waged by the Romans against Carthage, the soldiers who had served under the Carthaginians in Sardinia and Sicily, upon peace being proclaimed, returned to Africa; where, being dissatisfied with their pay, they mutinied against the Carthaginians, and choosing two of their number, Mato and Spendio, to be their leaders, seized and sacked many towns subject to Carthage. The Carthaginians, being loath to use force until they had tried all other methods for bringing them to reason, sent Hasdrubal, their fellow-citizen, to mediate with them, thinking that from formerly having commanded them he might be able to exercise some influence over them. But on his arrival, Spendio and Mato, to extinguish any hope these mutineers might have had of making peace with Carthage, and so leave them no alternative but war, persuaded them that their best course was to put Hasdrubal, with all the other Carthaginian citizens whom they had taken prisoners, to death. Whereupon, they not only put them to death, but first subjected them to an infinity of tortures; crowning their wickedness by a proclamation to the effect that every Carthaginian who might thereafter fall into their hands should meet a like fate. This advice, therefore, and its consummation had the effect of rendering these mutineers relentless and inveterate in their hostility to the Carthaginians.

CHAPTER XXXIII. — That to insure victory in battle you must inspire your Men with confidence in one another and in you.

To insure an army being victorious in battle you must inspire it with the conviction that it is certain to prevail. The causes which give it this confidence are its being well armed and disciplined, and the soldiers knowing one another. These conditions are only to be found united in soldiers born and bred in the same country.

It is likewise essential that the army should think so well of its captain as to trust implicitly to his prudence; which it will always do if it see him careful of its welfare, attentive to discipline, brave in battle, and otherwise supporting well and honourably the dignity of his position. These conditions he fulfils when, while punishing faults, he does not needlessly harass his men, keeps his word with them, shows them that the path to victory is easy, and conceals from them, or makes light of things which seen from a distance might appear to threaten danger. The observance of these precautions will give an army great confidence, and such confidence leads to victory.

This confidence the Romans were wont to inspire in the minds of their soldiers by the aid of religion; and accordingly their consuls were appointed, their armies were enrolled, their soldiers marched forth, and their battles were begun, only when the auguries and auspices were favourable; and without attending to all these observances no prudent captain would ever engage in combat; knowing that unless his soldiers were first assured that the gods were on their side, he might readily suffer defeat. But if any consul or other leader ever joined battle contrary to the auspices, the Romans would punish him, as they did Claudius Pulcher.

The truth of what I affirm is plainly seen from the whole course of the Roman history, but is more particularly established by the words which Livius puts into the mouth of Appius Claudius, who, when complaining to the people of the insolence of the tribunes, and taxing them with having caused the corruption of the auspices and other rites of religion, is made to say, “And now they would strip even religion of its authority. For what matters it, they will tell you, that the fowls refuse to peck, or come slowly from the coop, or that a cock has crowed? These are small matters doubtless; but it was by not contemning such small matters as these, that our forefathers built up this great republic.” And, indeed, in these small matters lies a power which keeps men united and of good courage, which is of itself the chief condition of success.

But the observances of religion must be accompanied by valour, for otherwise they can nothing avail. The men of Praneste, leading forth their army against the Romans, took up their position near the river Allia, on the very spot where the Romans had been routed by the Gauls, selecting this ground that it might inspire their own side with confidence, and dishearten their enemies with the unhappy memories which it recalled But although, for the reasons already noted, this was a course which promised success, the result nevertheless showed that true valour is not to be daunted by trifling disadvantages. And this the historian well expresses by the words he puts in the mouth of the dictator as spoken to his master of the knights “See how these fellows, in encamping on the banks of the Allia, have chosen their ground in reliance upon fortune. Do you, therefore, relying on discipline and valour, fall upon then centre.” For true valour, tight discipline, and the feeling of security gained by repeated victories, are not to be counteracted by things of no real moment, dismayed by empty terrors, or quelled by a solitary mishap. As was well seen when the two Manlii, being consuls in command against the Volscians, rashly allowed a part of their army to go out foraging, and both those who went out and those who stayed behind found themselves attacked at the same moment For from this danger they were saved by the courage of the soldiers, and not by the foresight of the consuls. With regard to which occurrence Titus Livius observes, “Even without a leader the steadfast valour of the soldiers was maintained.”

Here I must not omit to notice the device practised by Fabius to give his army confidence, when he led it for the first time into Etruria. For judging such encouragement to be especially needed by his men, since they were entering an unknown country to encounter a new foe, he addressed them before they joined battle, and, after reciting many reasons for expecting a victory, told them, that “he could have mentioned other favourable circumstances making victory certain, had it not been dangerous to disclose them.” And as this device was dexterously used it merits imitation.

CHAPTER XXXIV. — By what reports, rumours, or surmises the Citizens of a Republic are led to favour a Fellow-citizen: and-whether the Magistracies are bestowed with better judgment by a People or by a Prince.

I have elsewhere related how Titus Manlius, afterwards named Torquatus, rescued his father from the charge laid against him by Marcus Pomponius, tribune of the people. And though the means he took to effect this were somewhat violent and irregular, so pleasing to everyone were his filial piety and affection, that not only did he escape rebuke, but when military tribunes had to be appointed his name was second on the list of those chosen. To explain his good fortune, it will, I think, be useful to consider what are the methods followed by the citizens of a republic in estimating the character of those on whom they bestow honours, so as to see whether what I have already said on this head be true, namely, that a people is more discriminating in awarding honours than a prince.

I say, then, that in conferring honours and offices, the people, when it has no knowledge of a man from his public career, follows the estimate given of him by the general voice, and by common report; or else is guided by some prepossession or preconceived opinion which it has adopted concerning him. Such impressions are formed either from consideration of a man’s descent (it being assumed, until the contrary appears, that where his ancestors have been great and distinguished citizens their descendant will resemble them), or else from regard to his manners and habits; and nothing can be more in his favour than that he frequents the company of the grave and virtuous, and such as are generally reputed wise. For as we can have no better clue to a man’s character than the company he keeps, he who frequents worthy company deservedly obtains a good name, since there can hardly fail to be some similarity between himself and his associates. Sometimes, however, the popular estimate of a man is founded on some remarkable and noteworthy action, though not of public moment, in which he has acquitted himself well. And of all the three causes which create a prepossession in a man’s favour, none is so effectual as this last. For the presumption that he will resemble his ancestors and kinsmen is so often misleading, that men are slow to trust and quick to discard it, unless confirmed by the personal worth of him of whom they are judging.

The criterion of character afforded by a man’s manners and conversation is a safer guide than the presumption of inherited excellence, but is far inferior to that afforded by his actions; for until he has given actual proof of his worth, his credit is built on mere opinion, which may readily change. But this third mode of judging, which originates in and rests upon his actions, at once gives him a name which can only be destroyed by his afterwards doing many actions of a contrary nature. Those therefore who live in a republic should conform to this third criterion, and endeavour, as did many of the Roman youth, to make their start in life with some extraordinary achievement, either by promoting a law conducive to the general well-being, or by accusing some powerful citizen as a transgressor of the laws, or by performing some similar new and notable action which cannot fail to be much spoken of.

Actions like this are necessary not only to lay a foundation for your fame, but also to maintain and extend it. To which end, they must continually be renewed, as we find done by Titus Manlius throughout the whole course of his life. For after winning his earliest renown by his bold and singular defence of his father, when some years had passed he fought his famous duel with the Gaul, from whom, when he had slain him, he took the twisted golden collar which gave him the name of Torquatus. Nor was this the last of his remarkable actions, for at a later period, when he was of ripe years, he caused his own son to be put to death, because he had fought without leave, although successfully. Which three actions gained for him at the time a greater name, and have made him more renowned through after ages than all his triumphs and victories, though of these he had as large a share as fell to the lot of any other Roman. The explanation of which is, that while in his victories Manlius had many who resembled him, in these particular actions he stood almost or entirely alone.

So, too, with the elder Scipio, all whose victories together did not obtain for him so much reputation, as did his rescue, while he was yet young, of his father at the Ticino, and his undaunted bearing after the rout at Cannæ, when with his naked sword he constrained a number of the Roman youth to swear never to abandon their country, as some among them had before been minded to do. It was these two actions, therefore, which laid the foundation of his future fame and paved the way for his triumphs in Spain and Africa. And the fair esteem in which men held him, was still further heightened when in Spain he restored a daughter to her father, a wife to her husband.

Nor is it only the citizen who seeks reputation as leading to civil honours, who must act in this way; the prince who would maintain his credit in his princedom must do likewise; since nothing helps so much to make a prince esteemed as to give signal proofs of his worth, whether by words or by deeds which tend to promote the public good, and show him to be so magnanimous, generous, and just, that he may well pass into a proverb among his subjects. But to return to the point whence I digressed, I say that if a people, when they first confer honours on a fellow-citizen, rest their judgment on any one of the three circumstances above-mentioned, they build on a reasonable foundation; but, when many instances of noble conduct have made a man favourably known, that the foundation is still better, since then there is hardly room for mistake. I speak merely of those honours which are bestowed on a man at the outset of his career, before he has come to be known by continued proof, or is found to have passed from one kind of conduct to another and dissimilar kind, and I maintain that in such cases, so far as erroneous judgments or corrupt motives are concerned, a people will always commit fewer mistakes than a prince.

But since a people may happen to be deceived as regards the character, reputation, and actions of a man, thinking them better or greater than in truth they are, an error a prince is less likely to fall into from his being informed and warned by his advisers, in order that the people may not lack similar advice, wise founders of republics have provided, that when the highest dignities of the State, to which it would be dangerous to appoint incapable men, have to be filled up, and it appears that some incapable man is the object of the popular choice, it shall be lawful and accounted honourable for any citizen to declare in the public assemblies the defects of the favoured candidate, that the people, being made acquainted therewith, may be better able to judge of his fitness. That this was the practice in Rome we have proof in the speech made by Fabius Maximus to the people during the second Punic war, when in the appointment of consuls public favour leaned towards Titus Ottacilius. For Fabius judging him unequal to the duties of the consulship at such a crisis, spoke against him and pointed out his insufficiency, and so prevented his appointment, turning the popular favour towards another who deserved it more.

In the choice of its magistrates, therefore, a people judges of those among whom it has to choose, in accordance with the surest indications it can get; and when it can be advised as princes are, makes fewer mistakes than they. But the citizen who would make a beginning by gaining the good-will of the people, must, to obtain it, perform, like Titus Manlius, some noteworthy action.

CHAPTER XXXV. — Of the Danger incurred in being the first to recommend new Measures; and that the more unusual the Measures the greater the Danger.

How perilous a thing it is to put one’s self at the head of changes whereby many are affected, how difficult to guide and bring them to perfection, and when perfected to maintain them, were too wide and arduous a subject to be treated here. Wherefore I reserve it for a fitter occasion, and shall now speak only of those dangers which are incurred by the citizens of a republic or by the counsellors of a prince in being the first to promote some grave and important measure in such manner that the whole responsibility attending it rests with them. For as men judge of things by their results, any evil which ensues from such measures will be imputed to their author. And although if good ensue he will be applauded, nevertheless in matters of this kind, what a man may gain is as nothing to what he may lose.

Selim, the present sultan, or Grand Turk as he is called, being in readiness, as some who come from his country relate, to set forth on an expedition against Egypt and Syria, was urged by one of his bashaws whom he had stationed on the confines of Persia, to make war upon the Sofi. In compliance with which advice he went on this new enterprise with a vast army. But coming to a great plain, wherein were many deserts and few streams, and encountering the same difficulties as in ancient times had proved the ruin of many Roman armies, he suffered so much from pestilence and famine, that, although victorious in battle, he lost a great part of his men. This so enraged him against the bashaw on whose advice he had acted, that he forthwith put him to death.

In like manner, we read of many citizens who having strenuously promoted various measures were banished when these turned out badly. Certain citizens of Rome, for instance, were very active in forwarding a law allowing the appointment of a plebeian to be consul. This law passing, it so happened that the first plebeian consul who went forth with the armies was routed; and had it not been that the party in whose behalf the law was made was extremely powerful, its promoters would have fared badly. It is plain therefore that the counsellors whether of a republic or of a prince stand in this dilemma, that if they do not conscientiously advise whatsoever they think advantageous for their city or prince, they fail in their duty; if they do advise it, they risk their places and their lives; all men being subject to this infirmity of judging advice by the event.

When I consider in what way this reproach or this danger may best be escaped, I find no other remedy to recommend than that in giving advice you proceed discreetly not identifying yourself in a special manner with the measure you would see carried out, but offering your opinion without heat, and supporting it temperately and modestly, so that if the prince or city follow it, they shall do so of their own good-will, and not seem to be dragged into it by your importunity. When you act thus, neither prince nor people can reasonably bear you a grudge in respect of the advice given by you, since that advice was not adopted contrary to the general opinion. For your danger lies in many having opposed you, who afterwards, should your advice prove hurtful, combine to ruin you. And although in taking this course you fall short of the glory which is earned by him who stands alone against many in urging some measure which succeeds, you have nevertheless two advantages to make up for it: first, that you escape danger; and second, that when you have temperately stated your views, and when, in consequence of opposition, your advice has not been taken, should other counsels prevail and mischief come of them, your credit will be vastly enhanced. And although credit gained at the cost of misfortune to your prince or city cannot be matter of rejoicing, still it is something to be taken into account.

On this head, then, I know of no other advice to offer. For that you should be silent and express no opinion at all, were a course hurtful for your prince or city, and which would not absolve you from danger, since you would soon grow to be suspected, when it might fare with you as with the friend of Perseus the Macedonian king. For Perseus being defeated by Paulus Emilius, and making his escape with a few companions, it happened that one of them, in reviewing the past, began to point out to the king many mistakes which he had made and which had been his ruin. Whereupon Perseus turning upon him said, “Traitor, hast thou waited till now when there is no remedy to tell me these things?” and so saying, slew him with his own hand. Such was the penalty incurred by one who was silent when he should have spoken, and who spoke when he should have been silent; and who found no escape from danger in having refrained from giving advice. Wherefore, I believe, that the course which I have recommended should be observed and followed.

CHAPTER XXXVI. — Why it has been and still may be affirmed of the Gauls, that at the beginning of a fray they are more than Men, but afterwards less than Women.

The bravery of the Gaul who on the banks of the Anio challenged any among the Romans to fight with him, and the combat that thereupon ensued between him and Titus Manlius, remind me of what Titus Livius oftener than once observes in his history, that “at the beginning of a fray the Gauls are more than men, but ere it is ended show themselves less than women.”

Touching the cause of this, many are content to believe that such is their nature, which, indeed, I take to be true; but we are not, therefore, to assume that the natural temper which makes them brave at the outset, may not be so trained and regulated as to keep them brave to the end. And, to prove this, I say, that armies are of three kinds. In one of these you have discipline with bravery and valour as its consequence. Such was the Roman army, which is shown by all historians to have maintained excellent discipline as the result of constant military training. And because in a well-disciplined army none must do anything save by rule, we find that in the Roman army, from which as it conquered the world all others should take example, none either eat, or slept, or bought, or sold, or did anything else, whether in his military or in his private capacity, without orders from the consul. Those armies which do otherwise are not true armies, and if ever they have any success, it is owing to the fury and impetuosity of their onset and not to trained and steady valour. But of this impetuosity and fury, trained valour, when occasion requires, will make use; nor will any danger daunt it or cause it to lose heart, its courage being kept alive by its discipline, and its confidence fed by the hope of victory which never fails it while that discipline is maintained.

But the contrary happens with armies of the second sort, those, namely, which have impetuosity without discipline, as was the case with the Gauls whose courage in a protracted conflict gradually wore away; so that unless they succeeded in their first attack, the impetuosity to which they trusted, having no support from disciplined valour, soon cooled; when, as they had nothing else to depend on, their efforts ceased. The Romans, on the other hand, being less disquieted in danger by reason of their perfect discipline, and never losing hope, fought steadily and stubbornly to the last, and with the same courage at the end as at the outset; nay, growing heated by the conflict, only became the fiercer the longer it was continued.

In armies of the third sort both natural spirit and trained valour are wanting; and to this class belong the Italian armies of our own times, of which it may be affirmed that they are absolutely worthless, never obtaining a victory, save when, by some accident, the enemy they encounter takes to flight. But since we have daily proofs of this absence of valour, it were needless to set forth particular instances of it.

That all, however, may know on the testimony of Titus Livius what methods a good army should take, and what are taken by a bad army, I shall cite the words he represents Papirius Cursor to have used when urging that Fabius, his master of the knights, should be punished for disobedience, and denouncing the consequences which would ensue were he absolved, saying:— “Let neither God nor man be held in reverence; let the orders of captains and the Divine auspices be alike disregarded; let a vagrant soldiery range without leave through the country of friend or foe; reckless of their military oath, let them disband at their pleasure; let them forsake their deserted standards, and neither rally nor disperse at the word of command; let them fight when they choose, by day or by night, with or without advantage of ground, with or without the bidding of their leader, neither maintaining their ranks nor observing the order of battle; and let our armies, from being a solemn and consecrated company, grow to resemble some dark and fortuitous gathering of cut-throats.” With this passage before us, it is easy to pronounce whether the armies of our times be “a dark and fortuitous gathering,” or “a solemn and consecrated company;” nay, how far they fall short of anything worthy to be called an army, possessing neither the impetuous but disciplined valour of the Romans, nor even the mere undisciplined impetuosity of the Gauls.

CHAPTER XXXVII. — Whether a general engagement should be preceded by skirmishes; and how, avoiding these, we may get knowledge of a new Enemy.

Besides all the other difficulties which hinder men from bringing anything to its utmost perfection, it appears, as I have already observed, that in close vicinity to every good is found also an evil, so apt to grow up along with it that it is hardly possible to have the one without accepting the other. This we see in all human affairs, and the result is, that unless fortune aid us to overcome this natural and common disadvantage, we never arrive at any excellence. I am reminded of this by the combat between Titus Manlius and the Gaul, concerning which Livius writes that it “determined the issue of the entire war; since the Gauls, abandoning their camp, hastily withdrew to the country about Tivoli, whence they presently passed into Campania.”

It may be said, therefore, on the one hand, that a prudent captain ought absolutely to refrain from all those operations which, while of trifling moment in themselves, may possibly produce an ill effect on his army. Now, to engage in a combat wherein you risk your whole fortunes without putting forth your entire strength, is, as I observed before, when condemning the defence of a country by guarding its defiles, an utterly foolhardy course. On the other hand, it is to be said that a prudent captain, when he has to meet a new and redoubtable adversary, ought, before coming to a general engagement, to accustom his men by skirmishes and passages of arms, to the quality of their enemy; that they may learn to know him, and how to deal with him, and so free themselves from the feeling of dread which his name and fame inspire.

This for a captain is a matter of the very greatest importance, and one which it might be almost fatal for him to neglect, since to risk a pitched battle without first giving your soldiers such opportunities to know their enemy and shake off their fear of him, is to rush on certain destruction. When Valerius Corvinus was sent by the Romans with their armies against the Samnites, these being new adversaries with whom up to that time they had not measured their strength, Titus Livius tells us that before giving battle he made his men make trial of the enemy in several unimportant skirmishes, “lest they should be dismayed by a new foe and a new method of warfare.” Nevertheless, there is very great danger that, if your soldiers get the worst in these encounters, their alarm and self-distrust may be increased, and a result follow contrary to that intended, namely, that you dispirit where you meant to reassure.

This, therefore, is one of those cases in which the evil lies so nigh the good, and both are so mixed up together that you may readily lay hold of the one when you think to grasp the other. And with regard to this I say, that a good captain should do what he can that nothing happen which might discourage his men, nor is there anything so likely to discourage them as to begin with a defeat. For which reason skirmishes are, as a rule, to be avoided, and only to be allowed where you fight to great advantage and with a certainty of victory. In like manner, no attempt should be made to defend the passes leading into your country unless your whole army can co-operate; nor are any towns to be defended save those whose loss necessarily involves your ruin. And as to those towns which you do defend, you must so arrange, both in respect of the garrison within and the army without, that in the event of a siege your whole forces can be employed. All other towns you must leave undefended. For, provided your army be kept together, you do not, in losing what you voluntarily abandon, forfeit your military reputation, or sacrifice your hopes of final success. But when you lose what it was your purpose, and what all know it was your purpose to hold, you suffer a real loss and injury, and, like the Gauls on the defeat of their champion, you are ruined by a mishap of no moment in itself.

Philip of Macedon, the father of Perseus, a great soldier in his day, and of a great name, on being invaded by the Romans, laid waste and relinquished much of his territory which he thought he could not defend; rightly judging it more hurtful to his reputation to lose territory after an attempt to defend it, than to abandon it to the enemy as something he cared little to retain. So, likewise, after the battle of Cannæ, when their affairs were at their worst, the Romans refused aid to many subject and protected States, charging them to defend themselves as best they could. And this is a better course than to undertake to defend and then to fail; for by refusing to defend, you lose only your friend; whereas in failing, you not only lose your friend, but weaken yourself.

But to return to the matter in hand, I affirm, that even when a captain is constrained by inexperience of his enemy to make trial of him by means of skirmishes, he ought first to see that he has so much the advantage that he runs no risk of defeat; or else, and this is his better course, he must do as Marius did when sent against the Cimbrians, a very courageous people who were laying Italy waste, and by their fierceness and numbers, and from the fact of their having already routed a Roman army, spreading terror wherever they came. For before fighting a decisive battle, Marius judged it necessary to do something to lessen the dread in which these enemies were held by his army; and being a prudent commander, he, on several occasions, posted his men at points where the Cimbrians must pass, that seeing and growing familiar with their appearance, while themselves in safety and within the shelter of their intrenched camp, and finding them to be a mere disorderly rabble, encumbered with baggage, and either without weapons, or with none that were formidable, they might at last assume courage and grow eager to engage them in battle. The part thus prudently taken by Marius, should be carefully imitated by others who would escape the dangers above spoken of and not have to betake themselves like the Gauls to a disgraceful flight, on sustaining some trifling defeat.

But since in this Discourse I have referred by name to Valerius Corvinus, in my next Chapter I shall cite his words to show what manner of man a captain ought to be.

CHAPTER XXXVIII. — Of the Qualities of a Captain in whom his Soldiers can confide.

Valerius Corvinus, as I have said already, was sent in command of an army against the Samnites, who were then new enemies to Rome. Wherefore, to reassure his soldiers and familiarize them with their adversaries, he made them engage with them in various unimportant passages of arms. But not thinking this enough, he resolved before delivering battle to address his men, and by reminding them of their valour and his own, to make it plain how little they should esteem such enemies. And from the words which Titus Livius puts in his mouth we may gather what manner of man the captain ought to be in whom an army will put its trust. For he makes him say:— “Bear ye also this in mind under whose conduct and auspices you are about to fight, and whether he whom you are to obey be great only in exhorting, bold only in words, and all unpractised in arms; or whether he be one who himself knows how to use his spear, to march before the eagles, and play his part in the thickest of the fight. Soldiers! I would have you follow my deeds and not my words, and look to me for example rather than for commands; for with this right hand I have won for myself three consulships, and an unsurpassed renown.” Which words rightly understood give every one to know what he must do to merit a captain’s rank. And if any man obtain it by other means, he will soon discover that advancement due to chance or intrigue rather takes away than brings reputation, since it is men who give lustre to titles and not titles to men.

From what has been said it will likewise be understood that if great captains when matched against an unfamiliar foe have had to resort to unusual methods for reassuring the minds even of veteran soldiers, much more will it be necessary for them to use all their address when in command of a raw and untried army which has never before looked an enemy in the face. For if an unfamiliar adversary inspire terror even in a veteran army, how much greater must be the terror which any army will inspire in the minds of untrained men. And yet we often find all these difficulties overcome by the supreme prudence of a great captain like the Roman Gracchus or the Theban Epaminondas, of whom I have before spoken, who with untried troops defeated the most practised veterans. And the method they are said to have followed was to train their men for some months in mimic warfare, so as to accustom them to discipline and obedience, after which they employed them with complete confidence on actual service.

No man, therefore, of warlike genius, need despair of creating a good army if only he have the men; for the prince who has many subjects and yet lacks soldiers, has only to thank his own inertness and want of foresight, and must not complain of the cowardice of his people.

CHAPTER XXXIX. — That a Captain should have good knowledge of Places.

Among other qualifications essential in a good captain is a knowledge, both general and particular, of places and countries, for without such knowledge it is impossible for him to carry out any enterprise in the best way. And while practice is needed for perfection in every art, in this it is needed in the highest degree. Such practice, or particular knowledge as it may be termed, is sooner acquired in the chase than in any other exercise; and, accordingly, we find it said by ancient historians that those heroes who, in their day, ruled the world, were bred in the woods and trained to the chase; for this exercise not merely gives the knowledge I speak of, but teaches countless other lessons needful in war. And Xenophon in his life of Cyrus tells us, that Cyrus, on his expedition against the King of Armenia, when assigning to each of his followers the part he was to perform, reminded them that the enterprise on which they were engaged, differed little from one of those hunting expeditions on which they had gone so often in his company; likening those who were to lie in ambush in the mountains, to the men sent to spread the toils on the hill-tops; and those who were to overrun the plain, to the beaters whose business it is to start the game from its lair that it may be driven into the toils. Now, this is related to show how, in the opinion of Xenophon, the chase is a mimic representation of war, and therefore to be esteemed by the great as useful and honourable.

Nor can that knowledge of countries which I have spoken of as necessary in a commander, be obtained in any convenient way except by the chase. For he who joins therein gains a special acquaintance with the character of the country in which it is followed; and he who has made himself specially familiar with one district, will afterwards readily understand the character of any strange country into which he comes. For all countries, and the districts of which they are made up, have a certain resemblance to one another, so that from a knowledge of one we can pass easily to the knowledge of another. He therefore who is without such practical acquaintance with some one country, can only with difficulty, and after a long time, obtain a knowledge of another, while he who possesses it can take in at a glance how this plain spreads, how that mountain slopes, whither that valley winds, and all other like particulars in respect of which he has already acquired a certain familiarity.

The truth of what I affirm is shown by Titus Livius in the case of Publius Decius, who, being military tribune in the army which the consul Cornelius led against the Samnites, when the consul advanced into a defile where the Roman army were like to be shut in by the enemy, perceiving the great danger they ran, and noting, as Livius relates, a hill which rose by a steep ascent and overhung the enemy’s camp, and which, though hard of access for heavy-armed troops, presented little difficulty to troops lightly armed, turned to the consul and said:— “Seest thou, Aulus Cornelius, yonder height over above the enemy, which they have been blind enough to neglect? There, were we manfully to seize it, might we find the citadel of our hopes and of our safety.” Whereupon, he was sent by the consul with three thousand men to secure the height, and so saved the Roman army. And as it was part of his plan to make his own escape and carry off his men safely under shelter of night, Livius represents him as saying to his soldiers:— “Come with me, that, while daylight still serves, we may learn where the enemy have posted their guards, and by what exit we may issue hence.” Accordingly, putting on the cloak of a common soldier, lest the enemy should observe that an officer was making his rounds he surveyed their camp in all directions.

Now any one who carefully studies the whole of this passage, must perceive how useful and necessary it is for a captain to know the nature of places, which knowledge had Decius not possessed he could not have decided that it would be for the advantage of the Roman army to occupy this hill; nor could he have judged from a distance whether the hill was accessible or no; and when he reached the summit and desired to return to the consul, since he was surrounded on all sides by the enemy, he never could have distinguished the path it was safe for him to take, from those guarded by the foe. For all which reasons it was absolutely essential that Decius should have that thorough knowledge which enabled him by gaining possession of this hill to save the Roman army, and to discover a path whereby, in the event of his being attacked, he and his followers might escape.

CHAPTER XL. — That Fraud is fair in War.

Although in all other affairs it be hateful to use fraud, in the operations of war it is praiseworthy and glorious; so that he who gets the better of his enemy by fraud, is as much extolled as he who prevails by force. This appears in the judgments passed by such as have written of the lives of great warriors, who praise Hannibal and those other captains who have been most noted for acting in this way. But since we may read of many instances of such frauds, I shall not cite them here. This, however, I desire to say, that I would not have it understood that any fraud is glorious which leads you to break your plighted word, or to depart from covenants to which you have agreed; for though to do so may sometimes gain you territory and power, it can never, as I have said elsewhere, gain you glory.

The fraud, then, which I here speak of is that employed against an enemy who places no trust in you, and is wholly directed to military operations, such as the stratagem of Hannibal at the Lake of Thrasymene, when he feigned flight in order to draw the Roman consul and his army into an ambuscade; or when to escape from the hands of Fabius Maximus he fastened lights to the horns of his oxen. Similar to the above was the deceit practised by Pontius the Samnite commander to inveigle the Roman army into the Caudine Forks. For after he had drawn up his forces behind the hills, he sent out a number of his soldiers, disguised as herdsmen, to drive great herds of cattle across the plain; who being captured by the Romans, and interrogated as to where the Samnite army was, all of them, as they had been taught by Pontius, agreed in saying that it had gone to besiege Nocera: which being believed by the consuls, led them to advance within the Caudine Valley, where no sooner were they come than they were beset by the Samnites. And the victory thus won by a fraud would have been most glorious for Pontius had he but taken the advice of his father Herennius, who urged that the Romans should either be set at liberty unconditionally, or all be put to death; but that a mean course “which neither gains friends nor gets rid of foes” should be avoided. And this was sound advice, for, as has already been shown, in affairs of moment a mean course is always hurtful.

CHAPTER XLI. — That our Country is to be defended by Honour or by Dishonour; and in either way is well defended.

The consuls together with the whole Roman army fell, as I have related, into the hands of the Samnites, who imposed on them the most ignominious terms, insisting that they should be stripped of their arms, and pass under the yoke before they were allowed to return to Rome. The consuls being astounded by the harshness of these conditions and the whole army overwhelmed with dismay, Lucius Lentulus, the Roman lieutenant, stood forward and said, that in his opinion they ought to decline no course whereby their country might be saved; and that as the very existence of Rome depended on the preservation of her army, that army must be saved at any sacrifice, for whether the means be honourable or ignominious, all is well done that is done for the defence of our country. And he said that were her army preserved, Rome, in course of time, might wipe out the disgrace; but if her army were destroyed, however gloriously it might perish, Rome and her freedom would perish with it. In the event his counsel was followed.

Now this incident deserves to be noted and pondered over by every citizen who is called on to advise his country; for when the entire safety of our country is at stake, no consideration of what is just or unjust, merciful or cruel, praiseworthy or shameful, must intervene. On the contrary, every other consideration being set aside, that course alone must be taken which preserves the existence of the country and maintains its liberty. And this course we find followed by the people of France, both in their words and in their actions, with the view of supporting the dignity of their king and the integrity of their kingdom; for there is no remark they listen to with more impatience than that this or the other course is disgraceful to the king. For their king, they say, can incur no disgrace by any resolve he may take, whether it turn out well or ill; and whether it succeed or fail, all maintain that he has acted as a king should.

CHAPTER XLII. — That Promises made on Compulsion are not to be observed.

When, after being subjected to this disgrace, the consuls returned to Rome with their disarmed legions, Spurius Posthumius, himself one of the consuls, was the first to contend in the senate that the terms made in the Caudine Valley were not to be observed. For he argued that the Roman people were not bound by them, though he himself doubtless was, together with all the others who had promised peace; wherefore, if the people desired to set themselves free from every engagement, he and all the rest who had given this promise must be made over as prisoners into the hands of the Samnites. And so steadfastly did he hold to this opinion, that the senate were content to adopt it, and sending him and the rest as prisoners back to Samnium, protested to the Samnites that the peace was not binding. And so kind was Fortune to Posthumius on this occasion, that the Samnites would not keep him as a prisoner, and that on his return to Rome, notwithstanding his defeat, he was held in higher honour by the Romans than the victorious Pontius by his countrymen.

Here two points are to be noted; first, that glory may be won by any action; for although, commonly, it follow upon victory, it may also follow on defeat, if this defeat be seen to have happened through no fault of yours, or if, directly after, you perform some valiant action which cancels it. The other point to be noted is that there is no disgrace in not observing promises wrung from you by force; for promises thus extorted when they affect the public welfare will always be broken so soon as the pressure under which they were made is withdrawn, and that, too, without shame on the part of him who breaks them; of which we read many instances in history, and find them constantly occurring at the present day. Nay, as between princes, not only are such compulsory promises broken when the force which extorted them is removed, but all other promises as well, are in like manner disregarded when the causes which led to them no longer operate.

Whether this is a thing to be commended or no, and whether such methods ought or ought not to be followed by princes, has already been considered by me in my “Treatise of the Prince” wherefore I say no more on that subject here.

CHAPTER XLIII. — That Men born in the same Province retain through all Times nearly the same Character.

The wise are wont to say, and not without reason or at random, that he who would forecast what is about to happen should look to what has been; since all human events, whether present or to come, have their exact counterpart in the past. And this, because these events are brought about by men, whose passions and dispositions remaining in all ages the same naturally give rise to the same effects; although, doubtless, the operation of these causes takes a higher form, now in one province, and now in another, according to the character of the training wherein the inhabitants of these provinces acquire their way of life.

Another aid towards judging of the future by the past, is to observe how the same nation long retains the same customs, remaining constantly covetous or deceitful, or similarly stamped by some one vice or virtue. Any one reading the past history of our city of Florence, and noting what has recently befallen it, will find the French and German nations overflowing with avarice, pride, cruelty, and perfidy, all of which four vices have at divers times wrought much harm to our city. As an instance of their perfidy, every one knows how often payments of money were made to Charles VIII. of France, in return for which he engaged to restore the fortresses of Pisa, yet never did restore them, manifesting thereby his bad faith and grasping avarice. Or, to pass from these very recent events, all may have heard of what happened in the war in which the Florentines were involved with the Visconti, dukes of Milan, when Florence, being left without other resource, resolved to invite the emperor into Italy, that she might be assisted by his name and power in her struggle with Lombardy. The emperor promised to come with a strong army to take part against the Visconti and to protect Florence from them, on condition that the Florentines paid him a hundred thousand ducats on his setting out, and another hundred thousand on his arrival in Italy; to which terms the Florentines agreed. But although he then received payment of the first instalment and, afterwards, on reaching Verona, of the second, he turned back from the expedition without effecting anything, alleging as his excuse that he was stopped by certain persons who had failed to fulfil their engagements. But if Florence had not been urged by passion or overcome by necessity, or had she read of and understood the ancient usages of the barbarians, she would neither on this, nor on many other occasions, have been deceived by them, seeing that these nations have always been of the same character, and have always, in all circumstances, and with all men alike, used the same methods. For in ancient times we find them behaving after the same fashion to the Etruscans, who, when overpowered by the Romans, by whom they had been repeatedly routed and put to flight, perceiving that they could not stand without help, entered into a compact with the Gauls dwelling in the parts of Italy south of the Alps, to pay them a certain sum if they would unite with them in a campaign against the Romans. But the Gauls, after taking their money, refused to arm on their behalf, alleging that they had not been paid to make war on the enemies of the Etruscans, but only to refrain from pillaging their lands. And thus the people of Etruria, through the avarice and perfidy of the Gauls, were at once defrauded of their money and disappointed of the help which they had counted on obtaining.

From which two instances of the Etruscans in ancient times and of the Florentines in recent, we may see that barbaric races have constantly followed the same methods, and may easily draw our conclusions as to how far princes should trust them.

CHAPTER XLIV. — That where ordinary methods fail, Hardihood and Daring often succeed.

When attacked by the Romans, the Samnites as they could not without help stand against them in the field, resolved to leave garrisons in the towns of Samnium, and to pass with their main army into Etruria, that country being then at truce with Rome, and thus ascertain whether their actual presence in arms might not move the Etruscans to renew hostilities against Rome, which they had refused to renew when invited through envoys. During the negotiations which, on this occasion, passed between the two nations, the Samnites in explaining the chief causes that led them to take up arms, used the memorable words— “they had risen because peace is a heavier burthen for slaves than war for freemen” In the end, partly by their persuasions, and partly by the presence of their army, they induced the Etruscans to join forces with them.

Here we are to note that when a prince would obtain something from another, he ought, if the occasion allow, to leave him no time to deliberate, but should so contrive that the other may see the need of resolving at once; as he will, if he perceive that refusal or delay in complying with what is asked of him, will draw upon him a sudden and dangerous resentment.

This method we have seen employed with good effect in our own times by Pope Julius II. in dealing with France, and by M. de Foix, the general of the French king, in dealing with the Marquis of Mantua. For Pope Julius desiring to expel the Bentivogli from Bologna, and thinking that for this purpose he needed the help of French troops, and to have the Venetians neutral, after sounding both and receiving from both hesitating and ambiguous answers, determined to make both fall in with his views, by giving them no time to oppose him; and so, setting forth from Rome with as strong a force as he could get together, he marched on Bologna, sending word to the Venetians that they must stand aloof, and to the King of France to send him troops. The result was that in the brief time allowed them, neither of the two powers could make up their mind to thwart him; and knowing that refusal or delay would be violently resented by the Pope, they yielded to his demands, the king sending him soldiers and the Venetians maintaining neutrality.

M. de Foix, again, being with the king’s army in Bologna when word came that Brescia had risen, could not rest till he had recovered that town. But, to get there he had to choose between two routes, one long and circuitous leading through the territories of the king, the other short and direct. In taking the latter route, however, not only would he have to pass through the dominions of the Marquis of Mantua, but also to make his way into these through the lakes and marshes wherewith that country abounds, by following an embanked road, closed and guarded by the marquis with forts and other defensive works. Resolving, nevertheless, to take the shortest road at all hazards, he waited till his men were already on their march before signifying to the marquis that he desired leave to pass through his country, so that no time might be left him to deliberate. Taken aback by the unexpected demand, the marquis gave the leave sought, which he never would have given had De Foix acted with less impetuosity. For he was in league with the Venetians and with the Pope, and had a son in the hands of the latter; all which circumstances would have afforded him fair pretexts for refusal. But carried away by the suddenness and urgency of the demand, he yielded. And in like manner the Etruscans yielded to the instances of the Samnites, the presence of whose army decided them to renew hostilities which before they had declined to renew.

CHAPTER XLV. — Whether in battle it is better to await and repel the Enemy’s attack, or to anticipate it by an impetuous onset.

Decius and Fabius, the Roman consuls, were each of them in command of a separate army, one directed against the Samnites, the other against the Etruscans: and as both delivered battle, we have to pronounce, in respect of the two engagements, which commander followed the better method. Decius attacked his enemy at once with the utmost fury and with his whole strength. Fabius was content, at first, merely to maintain his ground; for judging that more was to be gained by a later attack, he reserved his forces for a final effort, when the ardour of the enemy had cooled and his energy spent itself. The event showed Fabius to be more successful in his tactics than Decius, who being exhausted by his first onset, and seeing his ranks begin to waver, to secure by death the glory he could no longer hope from victory, followed the example set him by his father, and sacrificed himself to save the Roman legions. Word whereof being brought to Fabius, he, to gain, while he yet lived, as much honour as the other had earned by his death, pushed forward all the troops he had reserved for his final effort, and so obtained an unexampled victory. Whence we see that of the two methods, that of Fabius was the safer and the more deserving our imitation.

CHAPTER XLVI. — How the Characteristics of Families come to be perpetuated.

Manners and institutions differing in different cities, seem here to produce a harder and there a softer race; and a like difference may also be discerned in the character of different families in the same city. And while this holds good of all cities, we have many instances of it in reading the history of Rome. For we find the Manlii always stern and stubborn; the Valerii kindly and courteous; the Claudii haughty and ambitious; and many families besides similarly distinguished from one another by their peculiar qualities.

These qualities we cannot refer wholly to the blood, for that must change as a result of repeated intermarriages, but must ascribe rather to the different training and education given in different families. For much turns on whether a child of tender years hears a thing well or ill spoken of, since this must needs make an impression on him whereby his whole conduct in after life will be influenced. Were it otherwise we should not have found the whole family of the Claudii moved by the desires and stirred by the passions which Titus Livius notes in many of them, and more especially in one holding the office of censor, who, when his colleague laid down his magistracy, as the law prescribed, at the end of eighteen months, would not resign, maintaining that he was entitled to hold the office for five years in accordance with the original law by which the censorship was regulated. And although his refusal gave occasion to much controversy, and bred great tumult and disturbance, no means could be found to depose him from his office, which he persisted in retaining in opposition to the will of the entire commons and a majority of the senate. And any who shall read the speech made against him by Publius Sempronius, tribune of the people, will find therein all the Claudian insolence exposed, and will recognize the docility and good temper shown by the body of the citizens in respecting the laws and institutions of their country.

CHAPTER XLVII. — That love of his Country should lead a good Citizen to forget private Wrongs.

While commanding as consul against the Samnites, Manlius was wounded in a skirmish. His army being thereby endangered, the senate judged it expedient to send Papirius Cursor as dictator to supply his place. But as it was necessary that the dictator should be nominated by Fabius, the other consul, who was with the army in Etruria, and as a doubt was felt that he might refuse to nominate Papirius, who was his enemy, the senate sent two messengers to entreat him to lay aside private animosity, and make the nomination which the public interest required. Moved by love of his country Fabius did as he was asked, although by his silence, and by many other signs, he gave it to be known that compliance was distasteful. From his conduct at this juncture all who would be thought good citizens should take example.

CHAPTER XLVIII. — That on finding an Enemy make what seems a grave blunder, we should suspect some fraud to lurk behind.

The consul having gone to Rome to perform certain ceremonial rites, and Fulvius being left in charge of the Roman army in Etruria, the Etruscans, to see whether they could not circumvent the new commander, planting an ambush not far from the Roman camp, sent forward soldiers disguised as shepherds driving large flocks of sheep so as to pass in sight of the Roman army. These pretended shepherds coming close to the wall of his camp, Fulvius, marvelling at what appeared to him unaccountable audacity, hit upon a device whereby the artifice of the Etruscans was detected and their design defeated.

Here it seems proper to note that the captain of an army ought not to build on what seems a manifest blunder on the part of an enemy; for as men are unlikely to act with conspicuous want of caution, it will commonly be found that this blunder is cover to a fraud. And yet, so blinded are men’s minds by their eagerness for victory, that they look only to what appears on the surface.

After defeating the Romans on the Allia, the Gauls, hastening on to Rome, found the gates of the city left open and unguarded. But fearing some stratagem, and being unable to believe that the Romans could be so foolish and cowardly as to abandon their city, they waited during the whole of that day and the following night outside the gates, without daring to enter. In the year 1508, when the Florentines Avere engaged in besieging Pisa, Alfonso del Mutolo, a citizen of that town, happening to be taken prisoner, was released on his promise to procure the surrender to the Florentines of one of the gates of the city. Afterwards, on pretence of arranging for the execution of this surrender, he came repeatedly to confer with those whom the Florentine commissaries had deputed to treat with him, coming not secretly but openly, and accompanied by other citizens of Pisa, whom he caused to stand aside while he conversed with the Florentines. From all which circumstances his duplicity might have been suspected, since, had he meant to do as he had engaged, it was most unlikely that he should be negotiating so openly. But the desire to recover possession of Pisa so blinded the Florentines that they allowed themselves to be conducted under his guidance to the Lucca Gate, where, through his treachery, but to their own disgrace, they lost a large number of their men and officers.

CHAPTER XLIX. — That a Commonwealth to preserve its Freedom has constant need of new Ordinances. Of the services in respect of which Quintius Fabius received the surname of Maximus.

It must happen, as I have already said, in every great city, that disorders needing the care of the physician continually spring up; and the graver these disorders are, the greater will be the skill needed for their treatment. And if ever in any city, most assuredly in Rome, we see these disorders assume strange and unexpected shapes. As when it appeared that all the Roman wives had conspired to murder their husbands, many of them being found to have actually administered poison, and many others to have drugs in readiness for the purpose.

Of like nature was the conspiracy of the Bacchanals, discovered at the time of the Macedonian war, wherein many thousands, both men and women, were implicated, and which, had it not been found out, or had the Romans not been accustomed to deal with large bodies of offenders, must have proved perilous for their city. And, indeed, if the greatness of the Roman Republic were not declared by countless other signs, as well as by the manner in which it caused its laws to be observed, it might be seen in the character of the punishments which it inflicted against wrong-doers. For in vindicating justice, it would not scruple or hesitate to put a whole legion to death, to depopulate an entire city, or send eight or ten thousand men at a time into banishment, subject to the most stringent conditions, which had to be observed, not by one of these exiles only, but by all. As in the case of those soldiers who fought unsuccessfully at Cannæ, who were banished to Sicily, subject to the condition that they should not harbour in towns, and should all eat standing.

But the most formidable of all their punishments was that whereby one man out of every ten in an entire army was chosen by lot to be put to death. For correcting a great body of men no more effectual means could be devised; because, when a multitude have offended and the ringleaders are not known, all cannot be punished, their number being too great; while to punish some only, and leave the rest unpunished, were unjust to those punished and an encouragement to those passed over to offend again. But where you put to death a tenth chosen by lot, where all equally deserve death, he who is punished will blame his unlucky fortune, while he who escapes will be afraid that another time the lot may be his, and for that reason will be careful how he repeats his offence. The poisoners and the Bacchanals, therefore, were punished as their crimes deserved.

Although disorders like these occasion mischievous results in a commonwealth, still they are not fatal, since almost always there is time to correct them. But no time is given in the case of disorders in the State itself, which unless they be treated by some wise citizen, will always bring a city to destruction. From the readiness wherewith the Romans conferred the right of citizenship on foreigners, there came to be so many new citizens in Rome, and possessed of so large a share of the suffrage, that the government itself began to alter, forsaking those courses which it was accustomed to follow, and growing estranged from the men to whom it had before looked for guidance. Which being observed by Quintius Fabius when censor, he caused all those new citizens to be classed in four Tribes, that being reduced within this narrow limit they might not have it in their power to corrupt the entire State. And this was a wisely contrived measure, for, without introducing any violent change, it supplied a convenient remedy, and one so acceptable to the republic as to gain for Fabius the well-deserved name of Maximus.

THE END

The Biographies

Portrait of Niccolò Machiavelli by Santi di Tito, c. 1600

MACHIAVELLI by Henry Cust

The Life of a Day.

I am at my farm; and, since my last misfortunes, have not been in Florence twenty days. I spent September in snaring thrushes; but at the end of the month, even this rather tiresome sport failed me. I rise with the sun, and go into a wood of mine that is being cut, where I remain two hours inspecting the work of the previous day and conversing with the woodcutters, who have always some trouble on hand amongst themselves or with their neighbours. When I leave the wood, I go to a spring, and thence to the place which I use for snaring birds, with a book under my arm — Dante or Petrarch, or one of the minor poets, like Tibullus or Ovid. I read the story of their passions, and let their loves remind me of my own, which is a pleasant pastime for a while. Next I take the road, enter the inn door, talk with the passers-by, inquire the news of the neighbourhood, listen to a variety of matters, and make note of the different tastes and humours of men.

‘This brings me to dinner-time, when I join my family and eat the poor produce of my farm. After dinner I go back to the inn, where I generally find the host and a butcher, a miller, and a pair of bakers. With these companions I play the fool all day at cards or backgammon: a thousand squabbles, a thousand insults and abusive dialogues take place, while we haggle over a farthing, and shout loud enough to be heard from San Casciano.

‘But when evening falls I go home and enter my writing-room. On the threshold I put off my country habits, filthy with mud and mire, and array myself in royal courtly garments. Thus worthily attired, I make my entrance into the ancient courts of the men of old, where they receive me with love, and where I feed upon that food which only is my own and for which I was born. I feel no shame in conversing with them and asking them the reason of their actions.

‘They, moved by their humanity, make answer. For four hours’ space I feel no annoyance, forget all care; poverty cannot frighten, nor death appal me. I am carried away to their society. And since Dante says “that there is no science unless we retain what we have learned” I have set down what I have gained from their discourse, and composed a treatise, De Principalibus, in which I enter as deeply as I can into the science of the subject, with reasonings on the nature of principality, its several species, and how they are acquired, how maintained, how lost. If you ever liked any of my scribblings, this ought to suit your taste. To a prince, and especially to a new prince, it ought to prove acceptable. Therefore I am dedicating it to the Magnificence of Giuliano.’

Niccolò Machiavelli.

Such is the account that Niccolò Machiavelli renders of himself when after imprisonment, torture, and disgrace, at the age of forty-four, he first turned to serious writing. For the first twenty-six or indeed twenty-nine of those years we have not one line from his pen or one word of vaguest information about him. Throughout all his works written for publication, there is little news about himself. Montaigne could properly write, ‘Ainsi, lecteur, je suis moy-mesme la matière de mon livre.’ But the matter of Machiavelli was far other: ‘Io ho espresso quanto io so, e quanto io ho imparato per una lunga pratica e continua lezione delle cose del mondo.’

The Man.

Machiavelli was born on the 3rd of May 1469. The period of his life almost exactly coincides with that of Cardinal Wolsey. He came of the old and noble Tuscan stock of Montespertoli, who were men of their hands in the eleventh century. He carried their coat, but the property had been wasted and divided. His forefathers had held office of high distinction, but had fallen away as the new wealth of the bankers and traders increased in Florence. He himself inherited a small property in San Casciano and its neighbourhood, which assured him a sufficient, if somewhat lean, independence. Of his education we know little enough. He was well acquainted with Latin, and knew, perhaps, Greek enough to serve his turn. ‘Rather not without letters than lettered,’ Varchi describes him. That he was not loaded down with learned reading proved probably a great advantage. The coming of the French, and the expulsion of the Medici, the proclamation of the Republic (1494), and later the burning of Savonarola convulsed Florence and threw open many public offices. It has been suggested, but without much foundation, that some clerical work was found for Machiavelli in 1494 or even earlier. It is certain that on July 14, 1498, he was appointed Chancellor and Secretary to the Dieci di Libertà e Pace, an office which he held till the close of his political life at fall of the Republic in 1512.

Official Life.

The functions of his Council were extremely varied, and in the hands of their Secretary became yet more diversified. They represented in some sense the Ministry for Home, Military, and especially for Foreign Affairs. It is impossible to give any full account of Machiavelli’s official duties. He wrote many thousands of despatches and official letters, which are still preserved. He was on constant errands of State through the Florentine dominions. But his diplomatic missions and what he learned by them make the main interest of his office. His first adventure of importance was to the Court of Caterina Sforza, the Lady of Forlì, in which matter that astute Countess entirely bested the teacher of all diplomatists to be. In 1500 he smelt powder at the siege at Pisa, and was sent to France to allay the irritations of Louis XII. Many similar and lesser missions follow. The results are in no case of great importance, but the opportunities to the Secretary of learning men and things, intrigue and policy, the Court and the gutter were invaluable. At the camp of Cæsar Borgia, in 1502, he found in his host that fantastic hero whom he incarnated in The Prince, and he was practically an eye-witness of the amazing masterpiece, the Massacre of Sinigaglia. The next year he is sent to Rome with a watching brief at the election of Julius II., and in 1506 is again sent to negotiate with the Pope. An embassy to the Emperor Maximilian, a second mission to the French King at Blois, in which he persuades Louis XII. to postpone the threatened General Council of the Church (1511), and constant expeditions to report upon and set in order unrestful towns and provinces did not fulfil his activity. His pen was never idle. Reports, despatches, elaborate monographs on France, Germany, or wherever he might be, and personal letters innumerable, and even yet unpublished, ceased not night nor day. Detail, wit, character-drawing, satire, sorrow, bitterness, all take their turn. But this was only a fraction of his work. By duty and by expediency he was bound to follow closely the internal politics of Florence where his enemies and rivals abounded. And in all these years he was pushing forward and carrying through with unceasing and unspeakable vigour the great military dream of his life, the foundation of a National Militia and the extinction of Mercenary Companies. But the fabric he had fancied and thought to have built proved unsubstantial. The spoilt half-mutinous levies whom he had spent years in odious and unwilling training failed him at the crowning moment in strength and spirit: and the fall of the Republic implied the fall of Machiavelli and the close of his official life. He struggled hard to save himself, but the wealthy classes were against him, perhaps afraid of him, and on them the Medici relied. For a year he was forbidden to leave Florentine territory, and for a while was excluded from the Palazzo. Later his name was found in a list of Anti-Medicean conspirators. He was arrested and decorously tortured with six turns of the rack, and then liberated for want of evidence.

After his Fall.

For perhaps a year after his release the Secretary engaged in a series of tortuous intrigues to gain the favour of the Medici. Many of the stories may be exaggerated, but none make pleasant reading, and nothing proved successful. His position was miserable. Temporarily crippled by torture, out of favour with the Government, shunned by his friends, in deep poverty, burdened with debt and with a wife and four children, his material circumstances were ill enough. But, worse still, he was idle. He had deserved well of the Republic, and had never despaired of it, and this was his reward. He seemed to himself a broken man. He had no great natural dignity, no great moral strength. He profoundly loved and admired Dante, but he could not for one moment imitate him. He sought satisfaction in sensuality of life and writing, but found no comfort. Great things were stirring in the world and he had neither part nor lot in them. By great good fortune he began a correspondence with his friend Francesco Vettori, the Medicean Ambassador at Rome, to whom he appeals for his good offices: ‘And if nothing can be done, I must live as I came into the world, for I was born poor and learnt to want before learning to enjoy.’ Before long these two diplomats had co-opted themselves into a kind of Secret Cabinet of Europe. It is a strange but profoundly interesting correspondence, both politically and personally. Nothing is too great or too small, too glorious or too mean for their pens. Amid foolish anecdotes and rather sordid love affairs the politics of Europe, and especially of Italy, are dissected and discussed. Leo X. had now plunged into political intrigue. Ferdinand of Spain was in difficulty. France had allied herself with Venice. The Swiss are the Ancient Romans, and may conquer Italy. Then back again, or rather constant throughout, the love intrigues and the ‘likely wench hard-by who may help to pass our time.’ But through it all there is an ache at Machiavelli’s heart, and on a sudden he will break down, crying,

Però se aleuna volta io rido e canto

Facciol, perchè non ho se non quest’ una

Via da sfogare il mio angoscioso pianto.

Vettori promised much, but nothing came of it. By 1515 the correspondence died away, and the Ex-Secretary found for himself at last the true pathway through his vale of years.

The True Life.

The remainder of Machiavelli’s life is bounded by his books. He settled at his villa at San Casciano, where he spent his day as he describes in the letter quoted at the beginning of this essay. In 1518 he began to attend the meetings of the Literary Club in the Orti Oricellarii, and made new and remarkable friends. ‘Era amato grandamente da loro ... e della sua conversazione si dilettavano maravigliosamente, tenendo in prezzo grandissimo tutte l’opere sue,’ which shows the personal authority he exercised. Occasionally he was employed by Florentine merchants to negotiate for them at Venice, Genoa, Lucca, and other places. In 1519 Cardinal Medici deigned to consult him as to the Government, and commissioned him to write the History of Florence. But in the main he wrote his books and lived the daily life we know. In 1525 he went to Rome to present his History to Clement VII., and was sent on to Guicciardini. In 1526 he was busy once more with military matters and the fortification of Florence. On the 22nd of June 1527 he died at Florence immediately after the establishment of the second Republic. He had lived as a practising Christian, and so died, surrounded by his wife and family. Wild legends grew about his death, but have no foundation. A peasant clod in San Casciano could not have made a simpler end. He was buried in the family Chapel in Santa Croce, and a monument was there at last erected with the epitaph by Doctor Ferroni— ‘Tanto nomini nullum par elogium.’ The first edition of his complete works was published in 1782, and was dedicated to Lord Cowper.

His Character.

What manner of man was Machiavelli at home and in the market-place? It is hard to say. There are doubtful busts, the best, perhaps, that engraved in the ‘Testina’ edition of 1550, so-called on account of the portrait. ‘Of middle height, slender figure, with sparkling eyes, dark hair, rather a small head, a slightly aquiline nose, a tightly closed mouth: all about him bore the impress of a very acute observer and thinker, but not that of one able to wield much influence over others.’ Such is a reconstruction of him by one best able to make one. ‘In his conversation,’ says Varchi, ‘Machiavelli was pleasant, serviceable to his friends, a friend of virtuous men, and, in a word, worthy to have received from Nature either less genius or a better mind.’ If not much above the moral standard of the day he was certainly not below it. His habits were loose and his language lucid and licentious. But there is no bad or even unkind act charged against him. To his honesty and good faith he very fairly claims that his poverty bears witness. He was a kind, if uncertain, husband and a devoted father. His letters to his children are charming. Here is one written soon before his death to his little son Guido.— ‘Guido, my darling son, I received a letter of thine and was delighted with it, particularly because you tell me of your full recovery, the best news I could have. If God grants life to us both I expect to make a good man of you, only you must do your fair share yourself.’ Guido is to stick to his books and music, and if the family mule is too fractious, ‘Unbridle him, take off the halter and turn him loose at Montepulciano. The farm is large, the mule is small, so no harm can come of it. Tell your mother, with my love, not to be nervous. I shall surely be home before any trouble comes. Give a kiss to Baccina, Piero, and Totto: I wish I knew his eyes were getting well. Be happy and spend as little as you may. Christ have you in his keeping.’ — There is nothing exquisite or divinely delicate in this letter, but there are many such, and they were not written by a bad man, any more than the answers they evoke were addressed to one. There is little more save of a like character that is known of Machiavelli the man. But to judge him and his work we must have some knowledge of the world in which he was to move and have his being.

State of Italy.

At the beginning of the sixteenth century Italy was rotten to the core. In the close competition of great wickedness the Vicar of Christ easily carried off the palm, and the Court of Alexander VI. was probably the wickedest meeting-place of men that has ever existed upon earth. No virtue, Christian or Pagan, was there to be found; little art that was not sensuous or sensual. It seemed as if Bacchus and Venus and Priapus had come to their own again, and yet Rome had not ceased to call herself Christian.

Superstition.

‘Owing to the evil ensample of the Papal Court,’ writes Machiavelli, ‘Italy has lost all piety and all religion: whence follow infinite troubles and disorders; for as religion implies all good, so its absence implies the contrary. To the Church and priests of Rome we owe another even greater disaster which is the cause of her ruin. I mean that the Church has maintained, and still maintains Italy divided.’ The Papacy is too weak to unite and rule, but strong enough to prevent others doing so, and is always ready to call in the foreigner to crush all Italians to the foreigner’s profit, and Guicciardini, a high Papal officer, commenting on this, adds, ‘It would be impossible to speak so ill of the Roman Court, but that more abuse should not be merited, seeing it is an infamy, and example of all the shames and scandals of the world.’ The lesser clergy, the monks, the nuns followed, with anxious fidelity, the footsteps of their shepherds. There was hardly a tonsure in Italy which covered more than thoughts and hopes of lust and avarice. Religion and morals which God had joined together, were set by man a thousand leagues asunder. Yet religion still sat upon the alabaster throne of Peter, and in the filthy straw of the meanest Calabrian confessional. And still deeper remained a blind devoted superstition. Vitellozzo Vitelli, as Machiavelli tells us, while being strangled by Cæesar Borgia’s assassin, implored his murderer to procure for him the absolution of that murderer’s father. Gianpaolo Baglioni, who reigned by parricide and lived in incest, was severely blamed by the Florentines for not killing Pope Julius II. when the latter was his guest at Perugia. And when Gabrino Fondato, the tyrant of Cremona, was on the scaffold, his only regret was that when he had taken his guests, the Pope and Emperor, to the top of the Cremona tower, four hundred feet high, his nerve failed him and he did not push them both over. Upon this anarchy of religion, morals, and conduct breathed suddenly the inspiring breath of Pagan antiquity which seemed to the Italian mind to find its finest climax in tyrannicide. There is no better instance than in the plot of the Pazzi at Florence. Francesco Pazzi and Bernardo Bandini decided to kill Lorenzo and Giuliano de’ Medici in the cathedral at the moment of the elevation of the Host. They naturally took the priest into their confidence. They escorted Giuliano to the Duomo, laughing and talking, and playfully embraced him — to discover if he wore armour under his clothes. Then they killed him at the moment appointed.

Pagan influence.

Nor were there any hills from which salvation might be looked for. Philosophy, poetry, science, expressed themselves in terms of materialism. Faith and hope are ever the last survivors in the life of a man or of a nation. But in Italy these brave comforters were at their latest breath. It is perhaps unfair to accept in full the judgment of Northern travellers. The conditions, training, needs of England and Germany were different. In these countries courage was a necessity, and good faith a paying policy. Subtlety could do little against a two-handed sword in the hands of an angry or partially intoxicated giant. Climate played its part as well as culture, and the crude pleasures and vices of the North seemed fully as loathsome to the refined Italian as did the tortuous policy and the elaborate infamies of the South to their rough invaders. Alone, perhaps, among the nations of Europe the Italians had never understood or practised chivalry, save in such select and exotic schools as the Casa Gioiosa under Vittorino da Feltre at Mantua. The oath of Arthur’s knights would have seemed to them mere superfluity of silliness. Onore connoted credit, reputation, and prowess. Virtù, which may be roughly translated as mental ability combined with personal daring, set the standard and ruled opinion. ‘Honour in the North was subjective: Onore in Italy objective.’ Individual liberty, indeed, was granted in full to all, at the individual’s risk. The love of beauty curbed grossness and added distinction. Fraud became an art and force a science. There is liberty for all, but for the great ones there is licence. And when the day of trial comes, it is the Churchmen and the Princes who can save neither themselves nor man, nor thing that is theirs. To such a world was Machiavelli born. To whom should he turn? To the People? To the Church? To the Princes and Despots? But hear him: —

‘There shall never be found any good mason, which will beleeve to be able to make a faire image of a peece of marble ill hewed, but verye well of a rude peece. Our Italian Princes beleeved, before they tasted the blowes of the outlandish warre, that it should suffice a Prince to know by writinges, how to make a subtell aunswere, to write a goodly letter, to shewe in sayinges, and in woordes, witte and promptenesse, to know how to canvas a fraude, to decke themselves with precious stones and gold, to sleepe and to eate with greater glory then other: To kepe many lascivious persons about them, to governe themselves with their subjects, covetously and proudely: To roote in idlenes, to give the degrees of the exercise of warre for good will, to dispise if any should have shewed them any laudable waie, minding that their wordes should bee aunswers of oracles: nor the sely wretches were not aware that they prepared themselves to be a pray to whome so ever should assaulte them. Hereby grew then in the thousand fowre hundred and nintie and fowre yere, the great feares, the sodaine flightes and the marveilous losses: and so three most mighty states which were in Italie, have bene dievers times sacked and destroyed. But that which is worse, is where those that remaine, continue in the very same errour, and liev in the verie same disorder and consider not, that those who in olde time would keepe their states, caused to be done these thinges, which of me hath beene reasoned, and that their studies were, to prepare the body to diseases, and the minde not to feare perills. Whereby grewe that Cæsar, Alexander, and all those men and excellent Princes in olde time, were the formost amongst the fighters, going armed on foote: and if they lost their state, they would loose their life, so that they lievd and died vertuously.’

Such was the clay that waited the moulding of the potter’s hand. ‘Posterity, that high court of appeal, which is never tired of eulogising its own justice and discernment,’ has recorded harsh sentence on the Florentine. It is better to-day to let him speak for himself.

The Prince.

The slender volume of The Prince has probably produced wider discussion, more bitter controversy, more varied interpretations and a deeper influence than any book save Holy Writ. Kings and statesmen, philosophers and theologians, monarchists and republicans have all and always used or abused it for their purposes. Written in 1513, the first year of Machiavelli’s disgrace, concurrently with part of the Discorsi, which contain the germs of it, the book represents the fulness of its author’s thought and experience. It was not till after Machiavelli’s death, that it was published in 1532, by order of Clement VII. Meanwhile, however, in manuscript it had been widely read and favourably received.

Its purpose.

The mere motive of its creation and dedication has been the theme of many volumes. Machiavelli was poor, was idle, was out of favour, and therefore, though a Republican, wrote a devilish hand-book of tyranny to strengthen the Medici and recover his position. Machiavelli, a loyal Republican, wrote a primer of such fiendish principles as might lure the Medici to their ruin. Machiavelli’s one idea was to ruin the rich: Machiavelli’s one idea was to oppress the poor: he was a Protestant, a Jesuit, an Atheist: a Royalist and a Republican. And the book published by one Pope’s express authority was utterly condemned and forbidden, with all its author’s works, by the express command of another (1559). But before facing the whirlwind of savage controversy which raged and rages still about The Prince, it may be well to consider shortly the book itself — consider it as a new book and without prejudice. The purpose of its composition is almost certainly to be found in the plain fact that Machiavelli, a politician and a man of letters, wished to write a book upon the subject which had been his special study and lay nearest to his business and bosom. To ensure prominence for such a book, to engage attention and incidentally perhaps to obtain political employment for himself, he dedicated it to Lorenzo de’ Medici, the existing and accepted Chief of the State. But far and above such lighter motives stood the fact that he saw in Lorenzo the only man who might conceivably bring to being the vast dream of patriotism which the writer had imagined. The subject he proposed to himself was largely, though not wholly, conditioned by the time and place in which he lived. He wrote for his countrymen and he wrote for his own generation. He had heard with his ears and seen with his eyes the alternate rending anarchy and moaning paralysis of Italy. He had seen what Agricola had long before been spared the sight of. And what he saw, he saw not through a glass darkly or distorted, but in the whitest, driest light, without flinching and face to face. ‘We are much beholden,’ writes Bacon, ‘to Machiavelli and others that wrote what men do, and not what they ought to do.’ He did not despair of Italy, he did not despair even of Italian unity. But he despaired of what he saw around him, and he was willing at almost any price to end it. He recognised, despite the nominal example of Venice, that a Republican system was impossible, and that the small Principalities and Free Cities were corrupt beyond hope of healing. A strong central unifying government was imperative, and at that day such government could only be vested in a single man. For it must ever be closely remembered, as will be pointed out again, that throughout the book the Prince is what would now be called the Government. And then he saw with faithful prophecy, in the splendid peroration of his hope, a hope deferred for near four hundred years, he saw beyond the painful paths of blood and tyranny, a vision of deliverance and union. For at least it is plain that in all things Machiavelli was a passionate patriot, and Amo la patria mia più dell’ anima is found in one of the last of many thousand letters that his untiring pen had written.

The purpose, then, of The Prince is to lay down rules, within the possibilities of the time, for the making of a man who shall create, increase, and maintain a strong and stable government. This is done in the main by a plain presentation of facts, a presentation condensed and critical but based on men and things as they actually were. The ethical side is wholly omitted: the social and economical almost entirely. The aspect is purely political, with the underlying thought, it may be supposed, that under the postulated government, all else will prosper.

The Book; New States.

Machiavelli opens by discussing the various forms of governments, which he divides into Republics and Principalities. Of the latter some may be hereditary and some acquired. Of hereditary states he says little and quotes but one, the Duchy of Ferrara. He then turns to his true subject, the acquisition and preservation of States wholly new or new in part, States such as he saw himself on every side around him. Having gained possession of a new State, he says, you must first extirpate the family of your predecessor. You should then either reside or plant colonies, but not trust to garrisons. ‘Colonies are not costly to the Prince, are more faithful and cause less offence to the subject States: those whom they may injure being poor and scattered, are prevented from doing mischief. For it should be observed that men ought either to be caressed or trampled out, seeing that small injuries may be avenged, whereas great ones destroy the possibility of retaliation: and so the damage that has to be inflicted ought to be such that it need involve no fear of reprisals.’ There is perhaps in all Machiavelli no better example of his lucid scientific method than this passage. There is neither excuse nor hypocrisy. It is merely a matter of business calculation. Mankind is the raw material, the State is the finished work. Further you are to conciliate your neighbours who are weak and abase the strong, and you must not let the stranger within your gates. Above all look before as well as after and think not to leave it to time, godere li benefici del tempo, but, as did the Romans, strike and strike at once. For illustration he criticises, in a final and damning analysis, the career of Louis XII. in Italy. There was no canon of statecraft so absolute that the King did not ignore it, and in inevitable Nemesis, there was no ultimate disaster so crowning as not to be achieved.

Conquests.

After observing that a feudal monarchy is much less easy of conquest than a despotism, since in the one case you must vanquish many lesser lordships while in the other you merely replace slaves by slaves, Machiavelli considers the best method of subjugating Free Cities. Here again is eminent the terrible composure and the exact truth of his politics. A conquered Free City you may of course rule in person, or you may construct an oligarchy to govern for you, but the only safe way is to destroy it utterly, since ‘that name of Liberty, those ancient usages of Freedom,’ are things ‘which no length of years and no benefits can extinguish in the nation’s mind, things which no pains or forethought can uproot unless the citizens be utterly destroyed.’

Hitherto the discussion has ranged round the material politics of the matter, the acquisition of material power. Machiavelli now turns to the heart of his matter, the proper character and conduct of a new Prince in a new Principality and the ways by which he shall deal most fortunately with friend and foe. For fortune it is, as well as ability, which go to the making of the man and the maintenance of his power.

Cæsar Borgia.

In the manner of the day Moses, Cyrus, Romulus, and Theseus are led across the stage in illustration. The common attribute of all such fortunate masters of men was force of arms, while the mission of an unarmed prophet such as Savonarola was foredoomed to failure. In such politics Machiavelli is positive and ruthless: force is and must be the remedy and the last appeal, a principle which indeed no later generation has in practice set at naught. But in the hard dry eyes of the Florentine Secretary stood, above all others, one shining figure, a figure to all other eyes, from then till now, wrapped in mysterious and miasmatic cloud. In the pages of common history he was a tyrant, he was vicious beyond compare, he was cruel beyond the Inquisition, he was false beyond the Father of Lies, he was the Antichrist of Rome and he was a failure: but he was the hero of Niccolò Machiavelli, who, indeed, found in Cæsar Borgia the fine flower of Italian politics in the Age of the Despots. Son of the Pope, a Prince of the Church, a Duke of France, a master of events, a born soldier, diplomatist, and more than half a statesman, Cæsar seemed indeed the darling of gods and men whom original fortune had crowned with inborn ability. Machiavelli knew him as well as it was possible to know a soul so tortuous and secret, and he had been present at the most critical and terrible moments of Cæsar’s life. That in despite of a life which the world calls infamous, in despite of the howling execrations of all Christendom, in despite of ultimate and entire failures, Machiavelli could still write years after, ‘I know not what lessons I could teach a new Prince more useful than the example of his actions,’ exhibits the ineffaceable impressions that Cæsar Borgia had made upon the most subtle and observant mind of modern history.

Cæsar’s Career.

Cæsar was the acknowledged son of Pope Alexander by his acknowledged mistress Vannozza dei Cattani. Born in 1472, he was an Archbishop and a Cardinal at sixteen, and the murderer of his elder brother at an age when modern youths are at college. He played his part to the full in the unspeakable scandals of the Vatican, but already ‘he spoke little and people feared him.’ Ere long the splendours of the Papacy seemed too remote and uncertain for his fierce ambition, and, indeed, through his father, he already wielded both the temporal and the spiritual arms of Peter. To the subtlety of the Italian his Spanish blood had lent a certain stern resolution, and as with Julius and Sulla the lust for sloth and sensuality were quickened by the lust for sway. He unfrocked himself with pleasure. He commenced politician, soldier, and despot. And for the five years preceding Alexander’s death he may almost be looked upon as a power in Europe. Invested Duke of Romagna, that hot-bed of petty tyranny and tumult, he repressed disorder through his governor Messer Ramiro with a relentless hand. When order reigned, Machiavelli tells us he walked out one morning into the market-place at Cesena and saw the body of Ramiro, who had borne the odium of reform, lying in two pieces with his head on a lance, and a bloody axe by his side. Cæsar reaped the harvest of Ramiro’s severity, and the people recognising his benevolence and justice were ‘astounded and satisfied.’

But the gaze of the Borgia was not bounded by the strait limits of a mere Italian Duchy. Whether indeed there mingled with personal ambition an ideal of a united Italy, swept clean of the barbarians, it is hard to say, though Machiavelli would have us believe it. What is certain is that he desired the supreme dominion in Italy for himself, and to win it spared neither force nor fraud nor the help of the very barbarians themselves. With a decree of divorce and a Cardinal’s hat he gained the support of France, the French Duchy of Valentinois, and the sister of the King of Navarre to wife. By largesse of bribery and hollow promises he brought to his side the great families of Rome, his natural enemies, and the great Condottieri with their men-at-arms. When by their aid he had established and extended his government he mistrusted their good faith. With an infinity of fascination and cunning, without haste and without rest, he lured these leaders, almost more cunning than himself, to visit him as friends in his fortress of Sinigaglia. ‘I doubt if they will be alive to-morrow morning,’ wrote Machiavelli, who was on the spot. He was right. Cæsar caused them to be strangled the same night, while his father dealt equal measure to their colleagues and adherents in Rome. Thenceforth, distrusting mercenaries, he found and disciplined out of a mere rabble, a devoted army of his own, and having unobtrusively but completely extirpated the whole families of those whose thrones he had usurped, not only the present but the future seemed assured to him.

He had fulfilled the first of Machiavelli’s four conditions. He rapidly achieved the remaining three. He bought the Roman nobles so as to be able to put a bridle in the new ‘Pope’s mouth.’ He bought or poisoned or packed or terrorised the existing College of Cardinals and selected new Princes of the Church who should accept a Pontiff of his choosing. He was effectively strong enough to resist the first onset upon him at his father’s death. Five years had been enough for so great an undertaking. One thing alone he had not and indeed could not have foreseen. ‘He told me himself on the day on which (Pope) Julius was created, that he had foreseen and provided for everything else that could happen on his father’s death, but had never anticipated that, when his father died, he too should have been at death’s door.’ Even so the fame and splendour of his name for a while maintained his authority against his unnumbered enemies. But soon the great betrayer was betrayed. ‘It is well to cheat those who have been masters of treachery,’ he had said himself in his hours of brief authority. His wheel had turned full cycle. Within three years his fate, like that of Charles XII., was destined to a foreign strand, a petty fortress, and a dubious hand. Given over to Spain he passed three years obscurely. ‘He was struck down in a fight at Viana in Navarre (1507) after a furious resistance: he was stripped of his fine armour by men who did not know his name or quality and his body was left naked on the bare ground, bloody and riddled with wounds. He was only thirty-one.’ And so the star of Machiavelli’s hopes and dreams was quenched for a season in the clouds from which it came.

The Lesson.

It seems worth while to sketch the strange tempestuous career of Cæsar Borgia because in the remaining chapters of The Prince and elsewhere in his writings, it is the thought and memory of Valentinois, transmuted doubtless and idealised by the lapse of years, that largely inform and inspire the perfect Prince of Machiavelli. But it must not be supposed that in life or in mind they were intimate or even sympathetic. Machiavelli criticises his hero liberally and even harshly. But for the work he wanted done he had found no better craftsman and no better example to follow for those that might come after. Morals and religion did not touch the purpose of his arguments except as affecting policy. In policy virtues may be admitted as useful agents and in the chapter following that on Cæsar, entitled, curiously enough, ‘Of those who by their crimes come to be Princes,’ he lays down that ‘to slaughter fellow citizens, to betray friends, to be devoid of honour, pity and religion cannot be counted as merits, for these are means which may lead to power but which confer no glory.’ Cruelty he would employ without hesitation but with the greatest care both in degree and in kind. It should be immediate and complete and leave no possibility of counter-revenge. For it is never forgotten by the living, and ‘he deceives himself who believes that, with the great, recent benefits cause old wrongs to be forgotten.’ On the other hand ‘Benefits should be conferred little by little so that they may be more fully relished.’ The cruelty proper to a Prince (Government, for as ever they are identical) aims only at authority. Now authority must spring from love or fear. It were best to combine both motives to obedience but you cannot. The Prince must remember that men are fickle, and love at their own pleasure, and that men are fearful and fear at the pleasure of the Prince. Let him therefore depend on what is of himself, not on that which is of others. ‘Yet if he win not love he may escape hate, and so it will be if he does not meddle with the property or women-folk of his subjects.’ When he must punish let him kill. ‘For men will sooner forget the death of their father than the loss of their estate.’ And moreover you cannot always go on killing, but a Prince who has once set himself to plundering will never stop. This is the more needful because the only secure foundation of his rule lies in his trust of the people and in their support. And indeed again and again you shall find no more thorough democrat than this teacher of tyrants. ‘The people own better broader qualities, fidelities and passions than any Prince and have better cause to show for them.’ ‘As for prudence and stability, I say that a people is more stable, more prudent, and of better judgment than a Prince.’ If the people go wrong it is almost certainly the crime or negligence of the Prince which drives or leads them astray. ‘Better far than any number of fortresses is not to be hated by your people.’ The support of the people and a national militia make the essential strength of the Prince and of the State.

National Defence.

The chapters on military organisation may be more conveniently considered in conjunction with The Art of War. It is enough at present to point out two or three observations of Machiavelli which touch politics from the military side. To his generation they were entirely novel, though mere commonplace to-day. National strength means national stability and national greatness; and this can be achieved, and can only be achieved, by a national army. The Condottiere system, born of sloth and luxury, has proved its rottenness. Your hired general is either a tyrant or a traitor, a bully or a coward. ‘In a word the armour of others is too wide or too strait for us: it falls off us, or it weighs us down.’ And in a fine illustration he compares auxiliary troops to the armour of Saul which David refused, preferring to fight Goliath with his sling and stone.

Conduct of the Prince.

Having assured the external security of the State, Machiavelli turns once more to the qualities and conduct of the Prince. So closely packed are these concluding chapters that it is almost impossible to compress them further. The author at the outset states his purpose: ‘Since it is my object to write what shall be useful to whosoever understands it, it seems to me better to follow the practical truth of things rather than an imaginary view of them. For many Republics and Princedoms have been imagined that were never seen or known to exist in reality. And the manner in which we live and in which we ought to live, are things so wide asunder that he who suits the one to betake himself to the other is more likely to destroy than to save himself.’ Nothing that Machiavelli wrote is more sincere, analytic, positive and ruthless. He operates unflinchingly on an assured diagnosis. The hand never an instant falters, the knife is never blunt. He deals with what is, and not with what ought to be. Should the Prince be all-virtuous, all-liberal, all-humane? Should his word be his bond for ever? Should true religion be the master-passion of his life? Machiavelli considers. The first duty of the Prince (or Government) is to maintain the existence, stability, and prosperity of the State. Now if all the world were perfect so should the Prince be perfect too. But such are not the conditions of human life. An idealising Prince must fall before a practising world. A Prince must learn in self-defence how to be bad, but like Cæsar Borgia, he must be a great judge of occasion. And what evil he does must be deliberate, appropriate, and calculated, and done, not selfishly, but for the good of the State of which he is trustee. There is the power of Law and the power of Force. The first is proper to men, the second to beasts. And that is why Achilles was brought up by Cheiron the Centaur that he might learn to use both natures. A ruler must be half lion and half fox, a fox to discern the toils, a lion to drive off the wolves. Merciful, faithful, humane, religious, just, these he may be and above all should seem to be, nor should any word escape his lips to give the lie to his professions: and in fact he should not leave these qualities but when he must. He should, if possible, practise goodness, but under necessity should know how to pursue evil. He should keep faith until occasion alter, or reason of state compel him to break his pledge. Above all he should profess and observe religion, ‘because men in general judge rather by the eye than by the hand, and every one can see but few can touch.’ But none the less, must he learn (as did William the Silent, Elizabeth of England, and Henry of Navarre) how to subordinate creed to policy when urgent need is upon him. In a word, he must realise and face his own position, and the facts of mankind and of the world. If not veracious to his conscience, he must be veracious to facts. He must not be bad for badness’ sake, but seeing things as they are, must deal as he can to protect and preserve the trust committed to his care. Fortune is still a fickle jade, but at least the half our will is free, and if we are bold we may master her yet. For Fortune is a woman who, to be kept under, must be beaten and roughly handled, and we see that she is more ready to be mastered by those who treat her so, than by those who are shy in their wooing. And always, like a woman, she gives her favours to the young, because they are less scrupulous and fiercer and more audaciously command her to their will.

The Appeal.

And so at the last the sometime Secretary of the Florentine Republic turns to the new Master of the Florentines in splendid exhortation. He points to no easy path. He proposes no mean ambition. He has said already that ‘double will that Prince’s glory be, who has founded a new realm and fortified it and adorned it with good laws, good arms, good friends, and good examples.’ But there is more and better to be done. The great misery of men has ever made the great leaders of men. But was Israel in Egypt, were the Persians, the Athenians ever more enslaved, down-trodden, disunited, beaten, despoiled, mangled, overrun and desolate than is our Italy to-day? The barbarians must be hounded out, and Italy be free and one. Now is the accepted time. All Italy is waiting and only seeks the man. To you the darling of Fortune and the Church this splendid task is given, to and to the army of Italy and of Italians only. Arm Italy and lead her. To you, the deliverer, what gates would be closed, what obedience refused! What jealousies opposed, what homage denied. Love, courage, and fixed fidelity await you, and under your standards shall the voice of Petrarch be fulfilled:

Virtu contro al furore

Prenderà l’arme e fia il combatter corto:

Chè l’antico valore

Negl’ Italici cor non è ancor morto.

Such is The Prince of Machiavelli. The vision of its breathless exhortation seemed then as but a landscape to a blind man’s eye. But the passing of three hundred and fifty years of the misery he wept for brought at the last, almost in perfect exactness, the fulfilment of that impossible prophecy.

The Attack.

There is no great book in the world of smaller compass than The Prince of Machiavelli. There is no book more lucidly, directly, and plainly written. There is no book that has aroused more vehement, venomous, and even truculent controversy from the moment of its publication until to-day. And it is asserted with great probability that The Prince has had a more direct action upon real life than any other book in the world, and a larger share in breaking the chains and lighting the dark places of the Middle Ages. It is a truism to say that Machiavellism existed before Machiavelli. The politics of Gian Galeazzo Visconti, of Louis XI. of France, of Ferdinand of Spain, of the Papacy, of Venice, might have been dictated by the author of The Prince. But Machiavelli was the first to observe, to compare, to diagnose, to analyse, and to formulate their principles of government. The first to establish, not a divorce, but rather a judicial separation between the morals of a man and the morals of a government. It is around the purpose and possible results of such a separation in politics, ethics, and religion that the storm has raged most fiercely. To follow the path of that storm through near four centuries many volumes would be needed, and it will be more convenient to deal with the more general questions in summing up the influence of Machiavelli as a whole. But the main lines and varying fortunes of the long campaign may be indicated. During the period of its manuscript circulation and for a few years after its publication The Prince was treated with favour or at worst with indifference, and the first mutterings were merely personal to the author. He was a scurvy knave and turncoat with neither bowels nor conscience, almost negligible. But still men read him, and a change in conditions brought a change in front. He had in The Prince, above all in the Discorsi, accused the Church of having ruined Italy and debauched the world. In view of the writer’s growing popularity, of the Reformation and the Pagan Renaissance, such charges could no longer be lightly set aside. The Churchmen opened the main attack. Amongst the leaders was Cardinal Pole, to whom the practical precepts of The Prince had been recommended in lieu of the dreams of Plato, by Thomas Cromwell, the malleus monachorum of Henry VIII. The Catholic attack was purely theological, but before long the Jesuits joined in the cry. Machiavelli was burnt in effigy at Ingoldstadt. He was subdolus diabolicarum cogitationum faber, and irrisor et atheos to boot. The Pope himself gave commissions to unite against him, and his books were placed on the Index, together, it must be admitted, with those of Boccaccio, Erasmus, and Savonarola so the company was goodly. But meanwhile, and perhaps in consequence, editions and translations of The Prince multiplied apace. The great figures of the world were absorbed by it. Charles V., his son, and his courtiers studied the book. Catherine de Medici brought it to France. A copy of The Prince was found on the murdered bodies of Henry III. and Henry IV. Richelieu praised it. Sextus V. analysed it in his own handwriting. It was read at the English Court; Bacon was steeped in it, and quotes or alludes to it constantly. Hobbes and Harrington studied it.

But now another change. So then, cried Innocent Gentillet, the Huguenot, the book is a primer of despotism and Rome, and a grammar for bigots and tyrants. It doubtless is answerable for the Massacre of St. Bartholomew. The man is a chien impur. And in answer to this new huntsman the whole Protestant pack crashed in pursuit. Within fifty years of his death The Prince and Machiavelli himself had become a legend and a myth, a haunting, discomforting ghost that would not be laid. Machiavellism had grown to be a case of conscience both to Catholic and Protestant, to Theologian, Moralist, and Philosopher. In Spain the author, damned in France for his despotism and popery, was as freshly and freely damned for his civil and religious toleration. In England to the Cavaliers he was an Atheist, to the Roundheads a Jesuit. Christina of Sweden annotated him with enthusiasm. Frederick the Great published his Anti-Machiavel brimming with indignation, though it is impossible not to wonder what would have become of Prussia had not the Prussian king so closely followed in practice the precepts of the Florentine, above all perhaps, as Voltaire observed, in the publication of the Anti-Machiavel itself. No doubt in the eighteenth century, when monarchy was so firmly established as not to need Machiavelli, kings and statesmen sought to clear kingship of the supposed stain he had besmirched them with. But their reading was as little as their misunderstanding was great, and the Florentine Secretary remained the mysterious necromancer. It was left for Rousseau to describe the book of this ‘honnête homme et bon citoyen’ as ‘le livre des Républicains,’ and for Napoleon, the greatest of the author’s followers if not disciples, to draw inspiration and suggestion from his Florentine forerunner and to justify the murder of the Due d’Enghien by a quotation from The Prince. ‘Mais après tout,’ he said, ‘un homme d’Etat est-il fait pour être sensible? N’est-ce pas un personnage — complètement excentrique, toujours seul d’un côté, avec le monde de l’autre?’ and again ‘Jugez done s’il doit s’amuser à ménager certaines convenances de sentiments si importantes pour le commun des hommes? Peut-il considérer les liens du sang, les affections, les puérils ménagements de la société? Et dans la situation où il se trouve, que d’actions séparées de l’ensemble et qu’on blâme, quoiqu’elles doivent contribuer au grand oeuvre que tout le monde n’aperçoit pas? ... Malheureux que vous êtes! vous retiendrez vos éloges parce que vous craindrez que le mouvement de cette grande machine ne fasse sur vous l’effet de Gulliver, qui, lorsqu’il déplaçait sa jambe, écrasait les Lilliputiens. Exhortez-vous, devancez le temps, agrandissez votre imagination, regardez de loin, et vous verrez que ces grands personnages que vous croyez violents, cruels, que sais-je? ne sont que des politiques. Ils se connaissent, se jugent mieux que vous, et, quand ils sont réellement habiles, ils savent se rendre maîtres de leurs passions car ils vont jusqu’à en calculer les effets.’ Even in his carriage at Waterloo was found a French translation of The Prince profusely annotated.

The Defence.

But from the first the defence was neither idle nor weak. The assault was on the morals of the man: the fortress held for the ideas of the thinker. He does not treat of morals, therefore he is immoral, cried the plaintiff. Has he spoken truth or falsehood? Is his word the truth and will his truth prevail? was the rejoinder. In Germany and Italy especially and in France and England in less degree, philosophers and critics have argued and written without stint and without cease. As history has grown wider and more scientific so has the preponderance of opinion leaned to the Florentine’s favour.

It would be impossible to recapitulate the arguments or even to indicate the varying points of view. And indeed the main hindrance in forming a just idea of The Prince is the constant treatment of a single side of the book and the preconceived intent of the critic. Bacon has already been mentioned. Among later names are Hobbes, Spinoza, Leibnitz. Herder gives qualified approval, while Fichte frankly throws down the glove as The Prince’s champion. ‘Da man weiss dass politische Machtfragen nie, am wenigsten in einem verderbten Volke, mit den Mitteln der Moral zu lösen sind, so ist es unverständig das Buch von Fürsten zu verschreien. Macchiavelli hatte einen Herrscher zu schildern, keinen Klosterbruder.’ The last sentence may at least be accepted as a last word by practical politicians. Ranke and Macaulay, and a host of competent Germans and Italians have lent their thought and pens to solve the riddle in the Florentine’s favour. And lastly, the course of political events in Europe have seemed to many the final justification of the teaching of The Prince. The leaders of the Risorgimento thought that they found in letters, ‘writ with a stiletto,’ not only the inspirations of patriotism and the aspirations to unity, but a sure and trusted guide to the achievement. Germany recognised in the author a schoolmaster to lead them to unification, and a military instructor to teach them of an Armed People. Half Europe snatched at the principle of Nationality. For in The Prince, Machiavelli not only begat ideas but fertilised the ideas of others, and whatever the future estimation of the book may be, it stands, read or unread, as a most potent, if not as the dominant, factor in European politics for four hundred years.

The Discorsi.

The Discorsi, printed in Rome by Blado, 1537, are not included in the present edition, as the first English translation did not appear until 1680, when almost the entire works of Machiavelli were published by an anonymous translator in London. But some account and consideration of their contents is imperative to any review of the Florentine’s political thoughts. Such Discorsi and Relazioni were not uncommon at the time. The stronger and younger minds of the Renaissance wearied of discussing in the lovely gardens of the Rucellai the ideas of Plato or the allegories of Plotinus. The politics of Aristotle had just been intelligibly translated by Leonardo Bruni (1492). And to-day the young ears and eyes of Florence were alert for an impulse to action. They saw glimpses, in reopened fields of history, of quarries long grown over where the ore of positive politics lay hid. The men who came to-day to the Orti Oricellarii were men versed in public affairs, men of letters, historians, poets, living greatly in a great age, with Raphael, Michael Angelo, Ariosto, Leonardo going up and down amongst them. Machiavelli was now in fair favour with the Medici, and is described by Strozzi as una persona per sorgere (a rising man). He was welcomed into the group with enthusiasm, and there read and discussed the Discorsi. Nominally mere considerations upon the First Decade of Livy, they rapidly encircled all that was known and thought of policy and state-craft, old and living.

Their Plan.

Written concurrently with The Prince, though completed later, the Discorsi contain almost the whole of the thoughts and intents of the more famous book, but with a slightly different application. ‘The Prince traces the progress of an ambitious man, the Discorsi the progress of an ambitious people,’ is an apt if inadequate criticism. Machiavelli was not the first Italian who thought and wrote upon the problems of his time. But he was the first who discussed grave questions in modern language. He was the first modern political writer who wrote of men and not of man, for the Prince himself is a collective individuality.

‘This must be regarded as a general rule,’ is ever in Machiavelli’s mouth, while Guicciardini finds no value in a general rule, but only in ‘long experience and worthy discretion.’ The one treated of policy, the other of politics. Guicciardini considered specifically by what methods to control and arrange an existing Government. Machiavelli sought to create a science, which should show how to establish, maintain, and hinder the decline of states generally conceived. Even Cavour counted the former as a more practical guide in affairs. But Machiavelli was the theorist of humanity in politics, not the observer only. He distinguished the two orders of research. And, during the Italian Renaissance such distinction was supremely necessary. With a crumbled theology, a pagan Pope, amid the wreck of laws and the confusion of social order, il sue particolare and virtù, individuality and ability (energy, political genius, prowess, vital force: virtù is impossible to translate, and only does not mean virtue), were the dominating and unrelenting factors of life. Niccolò Machiavelli, unlike Montesquieu, agreed with Martin Luther that man was bad. It was for both the Wittenberger and the Florentine, in their very separate ways, to found the school and wield the scourge. In the naked and unashamed candour of the time Guicciardini could say that he loathed the Papacy and all its works. ‘For all that, he adds, ‘the preferments I have enjoyed, have forced me for my private ends to set my heart upon papal greatness. Were it not for this consideration, I should love Martin Luther as my second self.’ In the Discorsi, Machiavelli bitterly arraigns the Church as having ‘deprived Italians of religion and liberty.’ He utterly condemns Savonarolà, yet he could love and learn from Dante, and might almost have said with Pym, ‘The greatest liberty of the Kingdom is Religion. Thereby we are freed from spiritual evils, and no impositions are so grievous as those that are laid upon the soul.’

Religion.

The Florentine postulates religion as an essential element in a strong and stable State. Perhaps, with Gibbon, he deemed it useful to the Magistrate. But his science is impersonal. He will not tolerate a Church that poaches on his political preserves. Good dogma makes bad politics. It must not tamper with liberty or security. And most certainly, with Dante, in the Paradiso, he would either have transformed or omitted the third Beatitude, that the Meek shall inherit the earth. With such a temperament, Machiavelli must ever keep touch with sanity. It was not for him as for Aristotle to imagine what an ideal State should be, but rather to inquire what States actually were and what they might actually become. He seeks first and foremost ‘the use that may be derived from history in politics’; not from its incidents but from its general principles. His darling model of a State is to be found where Dante found it, in the Roman Republic. The memory and even the substance of Dante occur again and again. But Dante’s inspiration was spiritual: Machiavelli’s frankly pagan, and with the latter Fortune takes the place of God. Dante did not love the Papacy, but Machiavelli, pointing out how even in ancient Rome religion was politic or utilitarian, leads up to his famous attack upon the Roman Church, to which he attributes all the shame and losses, political, social, moral, national, that Italy has suffered at her hands. And now for the first time the necessity for Italian Unity is laid plainly down, and the Church and its temporal power denounced as the central obstacles. In religion itself the Secretary saw much merit. ‘But when it is an absolute question of the welfare of our country, then justice or injustice, mercy or cruelty, praise or ignominy, must be set aside, and we must seek alone whatever course may preserve the existence and liberty of the state.’ Throughout the Discorsi, Machiavelli in a looser and more expansive form, suggests, discusses, or re-affirms the ideas of The Prince. There is the same absence of judgment on the moral value of individual conduct; the same keen decision of its practical effect as a political act. But here more than in The Prince, he deals with the action and conduct of the people. With his passion for personal and contemporary incarnation he finds in the Swiss of his day the Romans of Republican Rome, and reiterates the comparison in detail. Feudalism, mercenaries, political associations embodied in Arts and Guilds, the Temporal power of the Church, all these are put away, and in their stead he announces the new and daring gospel that for organic unity subjects must be treated as equals and not as inferiors. ‘Trust the people’ is a maxim he repeats and enforces again and again. And he does not shrink from, but rather urges the corollary, ‘Arm the people.’ Indeed it were no audacious paradox to state the ideal of Machiavelli, though he nominally preferred a Republic, as a Limited Monarchy, ruling over a Nation in Arms. No doubt he sought, as was natural enough in his day, to construct the State from without rather than to guide and encourage its evolution from within. It seemed to him that, in such an ocean of corruption, Force was a remedy and Fraud no sluttish handmaid. ‘Vice n’est-ce pas,’ writes Montaigne, of such violent acts of Government, ‘car il a quitté sa raison à une plus universelle et puissante raison.’ Even so the Prince and the people could only be justified by results. But the public life is of larger value than the private, and sometimes one man must be crucified for a thousand. Despite all prejudice and make-belief, such a rule and practice has obtained from the Assemblies of Athens to the Parliaments of the twentieth century. But Machiavelli first candidly imparted it to the unwilling consciences and brains of men, and it is he who has been the chosen scape-goat to carry the sins of the people. His earnestness makes him belie his own precept to keep the name and take away the thing. In this, as in a thousand instances, he was not too darkly hidden; he was too plain. ‘Machiavelli,’ says one who studied the Florentine as hardly another had done, ‘Machiavelli hat gesündigt, aber noch mehr ist gegen ihn gesündigt worden.’ Liberty is good, but Unity is its only sure foundation. It is the way to the Unity of Government and People that the thoughts both of The Prince and the Discorsi lead, though the incidents be so nakedly presented as to shock the timorous and vex the prurient, the puritan, and the evil thinker. The people must obey the State and fight and die for its salvation, and for the Prince the hatred of the subjects is never good, but their love, and the best way to gain it is by ‘not interrupting the subject in the quiet enjoyment of his estate.’ Even so bland and gentle a spirit as the poet Gray cannot but comment, ‘I rejoice when I see Machiavelli defended or illustrated, who to me appears one of the wisest men that any nation in any age hath produced.’

The Art of War.

Throughout both The Prince and the Discorsi are constant allusions to, and often long discussions on, military affairs. The Army profoundly interested Machiavelli both as a primary condition of national existence and stability, and also, as he pondered upon the contrast between ancient Rome and the Florence that he lived in, as a subject fascinating in itself. His Art of War was probably published in 1520. Before that date the Florentine Secretary had had some personal touch both with the theory and practice of war. As a responsible official in the camp before Pisa he had seen both siege work and fighting. Having lost faith in mercenary forces he made immense attempts to form a National Militia, and was appointed Chancellor of the Nove della Milizia. In Switzerland and the Tyrol he had studied army questions. He planned with Pietro Navarro the defence of Florence and Prato against Charles V. At Verona and Mantua in 1509, he closely studied the famous siege of Padua. From birth to death war and battles raged all about him, and he had personal knowledge of the great captains of the Age. Moreover, he saw in Italy troops of every country, of every quality, in every stage of discipline, in every manner of formation. His love of ancient Rome led him naturally to the study of Livy and Vegetius, and from them with regard to formations, to the relative values of infantry and cavalry and other points of tactics, he drew or deduced many conclusions which hold good to-day. Indeed a German staff officer has written that in reading the Florentine you think you are listening to a modern theorist of war. But for the theorist of those days a lion stood in the path. The art of war was not excepted from the quick and thorough transformation that all earthly and spiritual things were undergoing. Gunpowder, long invented, was being applied. Armour, that, since the beginning, had saved both man and horse, had now lost the half of its virtue. The walls of fortresses, impregnable for a thousand years, became as matchwood ramparts. The mounted man-at-arms was found with wonder to be no match for the lightly-armoured but nimble foot-man. The Swiss were seen to hold their own with ease against the knighthood of Austria and Burgundy. The Free Companies lost in value and prestige what they added to their corruption and treachery. All these things grew clear to Machiavelli. But his almost fatal misfortune was that he observed and wrote in the mid-moment of the transition. He had no faith in fire-arms, and as regards the portable fire-arms of those days he was right. After the artillery work at Ravenna, Novara, and Marignano it is argued that he should have known better. But he was present at no great battles, and pike, spear, and sword had been the stable weapons of four thousand years. These were indeed too simple to be largely modified, and the future of mechanisms and explosives no prophet uninspired could foresee. And indeed the armament and formation of men were not the main intent of Machiavelli’s thought. His care in detail, especially in fortifications, of which he made a special study, in encampments, in plans, in calculations, is immense. Nothing is so trivial as to be left inexact.

The New Model.

But he centred his observation and imagination on the origin, character, and discipline of an army in being. He pictures the horror, waste, and failure of a mercenary system, and lays down the fatal error in Italy of separating civil from military life, converting the latter into a trade. In such a way the soldier grows to a beast, and the citizen to a coward. All this must be changed. The basic idea of this astounding Secretary is to form a National Army, furnished by conscription and informed by the spirit of the New Model of Cromwell. All able-bodied men between the ages of seventeen and forty should be drilled on stated days and be kept in constant readiness. Once or twice a year each battalion must be mobilised and manoeuvred as in time of war. The discipline must be constant and severe. The men must be not only robust and well-trained, but, above all, virtuous, modest, and disposed to any sacrifice for the public good. So imbued should they be with duty and lofty devotion to their country that though they may rightly deceive the enemy, reward the enemy’s deserters and employ spies, yet ‘an apple tree laden with fruit might stand untouched in the midst of their encampment.’ The infantry should far exceed the cavalry, ‘since it is by infantry that battles are won.’ Secrecy, mobility, and familiarity with the country are to be objects of special care, and positions should be chosen from which advance is safer than retreat. In war this army must be led by one single leader, and, when peace shines again, they must go back contented to their grateful fellow-countrymen and their wonted ways of living. The conception and foundation of such a scheme, at such a time, by such a man is indeed astounding. He broke with the past and with all contemporary organisations. He forecast the future of military Europe, though his own Italy was the last to win her redemption through his plans. ‘Taken all in all,’ says a German military writer, ‘we may recognise Machiavelli in his inspired knowledge of the principles of universal military discipline as a true prophet and as one of the weightiest thinkers in the field of military construction and constitution. He penetrated the essence of military technique with a precision wholly alien to his period, and it is, so to say, a new psychological proof of the relationship between the art of war and the art of statecraft, that the founder of Modern Politics is also the first of modern Military Classics.’

But woe to the Florentine Secretary with his thoughts born centuries before their time. As in The Prince, so in the Art of War, he closes with a passionate appeal of great sorrow and the smallest ray of hope. Where shall I hope to find the things that I have told of? What is Italy to-day? What are the Italians? Enervated, impotent, vile. Wherefore, ‘I lament mee of nature, the which either ought not to have made mee a knower of this, or it ought to have given mee power, to have bene able to have executed it: For now beeing olde, I cannot hope to have any occasion, to be able so to doo: In consideration whereof, I have bene liberall with you who beeing grave young men, may (when the thinges said of me shall please you) at due times, in favoure of your Princes, helpe them and counsider them. Wherin I would have you not to be afraied, or mistrustfull, because this Province seemes to bee altogether given to raise up againe the things deade, as is seene by the perfection that Poesie, painting, and writing, is now brought unto: Albeit, as much as is looked for of mee, beeing strooken in yeeres, I do mistrust. Where surely, if Fortune had heretofore graunted mee so much state, as suffiseth for a like enterprise, I would not have doubted, but in most short time, to have shewed to the world, how much the auncient orders availe: and without peradventure, either I would have increased it with glory, or lost it without shame.’

The History of Florence.

In 1520 Machiavelli was an ageing and disappointed man. He was not popular with any party, but the Medici were willing to use him in minor matters if only to secure his adherence. He was commissioned by Giulio de Medici to write a history of Florence with an annual allowance of 100 florins. In 1525 he completed his task and dedicated the book to its begetter, Pope Clement VII.

In the History, as in much of his other work, Machiavelli enriches the science of humanity with a new department. ‘He was the first to contemplate the life of a nation in its continuity, to trace the operation of political forces through successive generations, to contrast the action of individuals with the evolution of causes over which they had but little control, and to bring the salient features of the national biography into relief by the suppression of comparatively unimportant details.’ He found no examples to follow, for Villani with all his merits was of a different order. Diarists and chroniclers there were in plenty, and works of the learned men led by Aretino, written in Latin and mainly rhetorical. The great work of Guicciardini was not published till years after the Secretary’s death. Machiavelli broke away from the Chronicle or any other existing form. He deliberately applied philosophy to the sequence of facts. He organised civil and political history. He originally intended to begin his work at the year 1234, the year of the return of Cosimo il Vecchio from exile and of the consolidation of Medicean power on the ground that the earlier periods had been covered by Aretino and Bracciolini. But he speedily recognised that they told of nothing but external wars and business while the heart of the history of Florence was left unbared. The work was to do again in very different manner, and in that manner he did it. Throughout he maintains and insistently insinuates his unfailing explanation of the miseries of Italy; the necessity of unity and the evils of the Papacy which prevents it. In this book dedicated to a Pope he scants nothing of his hatred of the Holy See. For ever he is still seeking the one strong man in a blatant land with almost absolute power to punish, pull down, and reconstruct on an abiding foundation, for to his clear eyes it is ever the events that are born of the man, and not the man of the events. He was the first to observe that the Ghibellines were not only the Imperial party but the party of the aristocrats and influential men, whereas the Guelphs were the party not only of the Church but of the people, and he traces the slow but increasing struggle to the triumph of democracy in the Ordinamenti di Giustizia (1293). But the triumph was not final. The Florentines were ‘unable to preserve liberty and could not tolerate slavery.’ So the fighting, banishments, bloodshed, cruelty, injustice, began once more. The nobles were in origin Germanic, he points out, the people Latin; so that a racial bitterness gave accent to their hate. But yet, he adds impartially, when the crushed nobility were forced to change their names and no longer dared be heard ‘Florence was not only stripped of arms but likewise of all generosity.’ It would be impossible to follow the History in detail. The second, seventh and eighth books are perhaps the most powerful and dramatic. Outside affairs and lesser events are lightly touched. But no stories in the world have been told with more intensity than those of the conspiracies in the seventh and eighth books, and none have given a more intimate and accurate perception of the modes of thought and feeling at the time. The History ends with the death of Lorenzo de Medici in 1492. Enough has been said of its breadth of scope and originality of method. The spirit of clear flaming patriotism, of undying hope that will not in the darkest day despair, the plangent appeal to Italy for its own great sake to rouse and live, all these are found pre-eminently in the History as they are found wherever Machiavelli speaks from the heart of his heart. Of the style a foreigner may not speak. But those who are proper judges maintain that in simplicity and lucidity, vigour, and power, softness, elevation, and eloquence, the style of Machiavelli is ‘divine,’ and remains, as that of Dante among the poets, unchallenged and insuperable among all writers of Italian prose.

Other Works.

Though Machiavelli must always stand as a political thinker, an historian, and a military theorist it would leave an insufficient idea of his mental activities were there no short notice of his other literary works. With his passion for incarnating his theories in a single personality, he wrote the Life of Castruccio Castracani, a politico-military romance. His hero was a soldier of fortune born Lucca in 1281, and, playing with a free hand, Machiavelli weaves a life of adventure and romance in which his constant ideas of war and politics run through and across an almost imaginary tapestry. He seems to have intended to illustrate and to popularise his ideals and to attain by a story the many whom his discourses could not reach. In verse Machiavelli was fluent, pungent, and prosaic. The unfinished Golden Ass is merely made of paragraphs of the Discorsi twined into rhymes. And the others are little better. Countless pamphlets, essays, and descriptions may be searched without total waste by the very curious and the very leisurely. The many despatches and multitudinous private letters tell the story both of his life and his mind. But the short but famous Novella di Belfagor Arcidiavolo is excellent in wit, satire, and invention. As a playwright he wrote, among many lesser efforts, one supreme comedy, Mandragola, which Macaulay declares to be better than the best of Goldoni’s plays, and only less excellent than the very best of Molière’s. Italian critics call it the finest play in Italian. The plot is not for nursery reading, but there are tears and laughter and pity and anger to furnish forth a copious author, and it has been not ill observed that Mandragola is the comedy of a society of which The Prince is the tragedy.

THE END

It has been said of the Italians of the Renaissance that with so much of unfairness in their policy, there was an extraordinary degree of fairness in their intellects. They were as direct in thought as they were tortuous in action and could see no wickedness in deceiving a man whom they intended to destroy. To such a charge — if charge it be — Machiavelli would have willingly owned himself answerable. He observed, in order to know, and he wished to use his knowledge for the advancement of good. To him the means were indifferent, provided only that they were always apt and moderate in accordance with necessity, A surgeon has no room for sentiment: in such an operator pity were a crime. It is his to examine, to probe, to diagnose, flinching at no ulcer, sparing neither to himself or to his patient. And if he may not act, he is to lay down very clearly the reasons which led to his conclusions and to state the mode by which life itself may be saved, cost what amputation and agony it may. This was Machiavelli’s business, and he applied his eye, his brains, and his knife with a relentless persistence, which, only because it was so faithful, was not called heroic. And we know that he suffered in the doing of it and that his heart was sore for his patient. But there was no other way. His record is clear and shining. He has been accused of no treachery, of no evil action. His patriotism for Italy as a fatherland, a dream undreamt by any other, never glowed more brightly than when Italy lay low in shame, and ruin, and despair. His faith never faltered, his spirit never shrank. And the Italy that he saw, through dark bursts of storm, broken and sinking, we see to-day riding in the sunny haven where he would have her to be.

HENRY CUST.

INTRODUCTION TO NICCOLÒ MACHIAVELLI by W. K. Marriott

CONTENTS

INTRODUCTION

YOUTH — Aet. 1-25 — 1469-94

OFFICE — Aet. 25-43 — 1494-1512

LITERATURE AND DEATH — Aet. 43-58 — 1512-27

THE MAN AND HIS WORKS

INTRODUCTION

Nicolo Machiavelli was born at Florence on 3rd May 1469. He was the second son of Bernardo di Nicolo Machiavelli, a lawyer of some repute, and of Bartolommea di Stefano Nelli, his wife. Both parents were members of the old Florentine nobility.

His life falls naturally into three periods, each of which singularly enough constitutes a distinct and important era in the history of Florence. His youth was concurrent with the greatness of Florence as an Italian power under the guidance of Lorenzo de’ Medici, Il Magnifico. The downfall of the Medici in Florence occurred in 1494, in which year Machiavelli entered the public service. During his official career Florence was free under the government of a Republic, which lasted until 1512, when the Medici returned to power, and Machiavelli lost his office. The Medici again ruled Florence from 1512 until 1527, when they were once more driven out. This was the period of Machiavelli’s literary activity and increasing influence; but he died, within a few weeks of the expulsion of the Medici, on 22nd June 1527, in his fifty-eighth year, without having regained office.

YOUTH — Aet. 1-25 — 1469-94

Although there is little recorded of the youth of Machiavelli, the Florence of those days is so well known that the early environment of this representative citizen may be easily imagined. Florence has been described as a city with two opposite currents of life, one directed by the fervent and austere Savonarola, the other by the splendour-loving Lorenzo. Savonarola’s influence upon the young Machiavelli must have been slight, for although at one time he wielded immense power over the fortunes of Florence, he only furnished Machiavelli with a subject of a gibe in “The Prince,” where he is cited as an example of an unarmed prophet who came to a bad end. Whereas the magnificence of the Medicean rule during the life of Lorenzo appeared to have impressed Machiavelli strongly, for he frequently recurs to it in his writings, and it is to Lorenzo’s grandson that he dedicates “The Prince.”

Machiavelli, in his “History of Florence,” gives us a picture of the young men among whom his youth was passed. He writes: “They were freer than their forefathers in dress and living, and spent more in other kinds of excesses, consuming their time and money in idleness, gaming, and women; their chief aim was to appear well dressed and to speak with wit and acuteness, whilst he who could wound others the most cleverly was thought the wisest.” In a letter to his son Guido, Machiavelli shows why youth should avail itself of its opportunities for study, and leads us to infer that his own youth had been so occupied. He writes: “I have received your letter, which has given me the greatest pleasure, especially because you tell me you are quite restored in health, than which I could have no better news; for if God grant life to you, and to me, I hope to make a good man of you if you are willing to do your share.” Then, writing of a new patron, he continues: “This will turn out well for you, but it is necessary for you to study; since, then, you have no longer the excuse of illness, take pains to study letters and music, for you see what honour is done to me for the little skill I have. Therefore, my son, if you wish to please me, and to bring success and honour to yourself, do right and study, because others will help you if you help yourself.”

OFFICE — Aet. 25-43 — 1494-1512

The second period of Machiavelli’s life was spent in the service of the free Republic of Florence, which flourished, as stated above, from the expulsion of the Medici in 1494 until their return in 1512. After serving four years in one of the public offices he was appointed Chancellor and Secretary to the Second Chancery, the Ten of Liberty and Peace. Here we are on firm ground when dealing with the events of Machiavelli’s life, for during this time he took a leading part in the affairs of the Republic, and we have its decrees, records, and dispatches to guide us, as well as his own writings. A mere recapitulation of a few of his transactions with the statesmen and soldiers of his time gives a fair indication of his activities, and supplies the sources from which he drew the experiences and characters which illustrate “The Prince.”

His first mission was in 1499 to Catherina Sforza, “my lady of Forli” of “The Prince,” from whose conduct and fate he drew the moral that it is far better to earn the confidence of the people than to rely on fortresses. This is a very noticeable principle in Machiavelli, and is urged by him in many ways as a matter of vital importance to princes.

In 1500 he was sent to France to obtain terms from Louis XII for continuing the war against Pisa: this king it was who, in his conduct of affairs in Italy, committed the five capital errors in statecraft summarized in “The Prince,” and was consequently driven out. He, also, it was who made the dissolution of his marriage a condition of support to Pope Alexander VI; which leads Machiavelli to refer those who urge that such promises should be kept to what he has written concerning the faith of princes.

Machiavelli’s public life was largely occupied with events arising out of the ambitions of Pope Alexander VI and his son, Cesare Borgia, the Duke Valentino, and these characters fill a large space of “The Prince.” Machiavelli never hesitates to cite the actions of the duke for the benefit of usurpers who wish to keep the states they have seized; he can, indeed, find no precepts to offer so good as the pattern of Cesare Borgia’s conduct, insomuch that Cesare is acclaimed by some critics as the “hero” of “The Prince.” Yet in “The Prince” the duke is in point of fact cited as a type of the man who rises on the fortune of others, and falls with them; who takes every course that might be expected from a prudent man but the course which will save him; who is prepared for all eventualities but the one which happens; and who, when all his abilities fail to carry him through, exclaims that it was not his fault, but an extraordinary and unforeseen fatality.

On the death of Pius III, in 1503, Machiavelli was sent to Rome to watch the election of his successor, and there he saw Cesare Borgia cheated into allowing the choice of the College to fall on Giuliano delle Rovere (Julius II), who was one of the cardinals that had most reason to fear the duke. Machiavelli, when commenting on this election, says that he who thinks new favours will cause great personages to forget old injuries deceives himself. Julius did not rest until he had ruined Cesare.

It was to Julius II that Machiavelli was sent in 1506, when that pontiff was commencing his enterprise against Bologna; which he brought to a successful issue, as he did many of his other adventures, owing chiefly to his impetuous character. It is in reference to Pope Julius that Machiavelli moralizes on the resemblance between Fortune and women, and concludes that it is the bold rather than the cautious man that will win and hold them both.

It is impossible to follow here the varying fortunes of the Italian states, which in 1507 were controlled by France, Spain, and Germany, with results that have lasted to our day; we are concerned with those events, and with the three great actors in them, so far only as they impinge on the personality of Machiavelli. He had several meetings with Louis XII of France, and his estimate of that monarch’s character has already been alluded to. Machiavelli has painted Ferdinand of Aragon as the man who accomplished great things under the cloak of religion, but who in reality had no mercy, faith, humanity, or integrity; and who, had he allowed himself to be influenced by such motives, would have been ruined. The Emperor Maximilian was one of the most interesting men of the age, and his character has been drawn by many hands; but Machiavelli, who was an envoy at his court in 1507-8, reveals the secret of his many failures when he describes him as a secretive man, without force of character — ignoring the human agencies necessary to carry his schemes into effect, and never insisting on the fulfilment of his wishes.

The remaining years of Machiavelli’s official career were filled with events arising out of the League of Cambrai, made in 1508 between the three great European powers already mentioned and the pope, with the object of crushing the Venetian Republic. This result was attained in the battle of Vaila, when Venice lost in one day all that she had won in eight hundred years. Florence had a difficult part to play during these events, complicated as they were by the feud which broke out between the pope and the French, because friendship with France had dictated the entire policy of the Republic. When, in 1511, Julius II finally formed the Holy League against France, and with the assistance of the Swiss drove the French out of Italy, Florence lay at the mercy of the Pope, and had to submit to his terms, one of which was that the Medici should be restored. The return of the Medici to Florence on 1st September 1512, and the consequent fall of the Republic, was the signal for the dismissal of Machiavelli and his friends, and thus put an end to his public career, for, as we have seen, he died without regaining office.

LITERATURE AND DEATH — Aet. 43-58 — 1512-27

On the return of the Medici, Machiavelli, who for a few weeks had vainly hoped to retain his office under the new masters of Florence, was dismissed by decree dated 7th November 1512. Shortly after this he was accused of complicity in an abortive conspiracy against the Medici, imprisoned, and put to the question by torture. The new Medicean pope, Leo X, procured his release, and he retired to his small property at San Casciano, near Florence, where he devoted himself to literature. In a letter to Francesco Vettori, dated 13th December 1513, he has left a very interesting description of his life at this period, which elucidates his methods and his motives in writing “The Prince.” After describing his daily occupations with his family and neighbours, he writes: “The evening being come, I return home and go to my study; at the entrance I pull off my peasant-clothes, covered with dust and dirt, and put on my noble court dress, and thus becomingly re-clothed I pass into the ancient courts of the men of old, where, being lovingly received by them, I am fed with that food which is mine alone; where I do not hesitate to speak with them, and to ask for the reason of their actions, and they in their benignity answer me; and for four hours I feel no weariness, I forget every trouble, poverty does not dismay, death does not terrify me; I am possessed entirely by those great men. And because Dante says:

    Knowledge doth come of learning well retained,

    Unfruitful else,

I have noted down what I have gained from their conversation, and have composed a small work on ‘Principalities,’ where I pour myself out as fully as I can in meditation on the subject, discussing what a principality is, what kinds there are, how they can be acquired, how they can be kept, why they are lost: and if any of my fancies ever pleased you, this ought not to displease you: and to a prince, especially to a new one, it should be welcome: therefore I dedicate it to his Magnificence Giuliano. Filippo Casavecchio has seen it; he will be able to tell you what is in it, and of the discourses I have had with him; nevertheless, I am still enriching and polishing it.”

The “little book” suffered many vicissitudes before attaining the form in which it has reached us. Various mental influences were at work during its composition; its title and patron were changed; and for some unknown reason it was finally dedicated to Lorenzo de’ Medici. Although Machiavelli discussed with Casavecchio whether it should be sent or presented in person to the patron, there is no evidence that Lorenzo ever received or even read it: he certainly never gave Machiavelli any employment. Although it was plagiarized during Machiavelli’s lifetime, “The Prince” was never published by him, and its text is still disputable.

Machiavelli concludes his letter to Vettori thus: “And as to this little thing [his book], when it has been read it will be seen that during the fifteen years I have given to the study of statecraft I have neither slept nor idled; and men ought ever to desire to be served by one who has reaped experience at the expense of others. And of my loyalty none could doubt, because having always kept faith I could not now learn how to break it; for he who has been faithful and honest, as I have, cannot change his nature; and my poverty is a witness to my honesty.”

Before Machiavelli had got “The Prince” off his hands he commenced his “Discourse on the First Decade of Titus Livius,” which should be read concurrently with “The Prince.” These and several minor works occupied him until the year 1518, when he accepted a small commission to look after the affairs of some Florentine merchants at Genoa. In 1519 the Medicean rulers of Florence granted a few political concessions to her citizens, and Machiavelli with others was consulted upon a new constitution under which the Great Council was to be restored; but on one pretext or another it was not promulgated.

In 1520 the Florentine merchants again had recourse to Machiavelli to settle their difficulties with Lucca, but this year was chiefly remarkable for his re-entry into Florentine literary society, where he was much sought after, and also for the production of his “Art of War.” It was in the same year that he received a commission at the instance of Cardinal de’ Medici to write the “History of Florence,” a task which occupied him until 1525. His return to popular favour may have determined the Medici to give him this employment, for an old writer observes that “an able statesman out of work, like a huge whale, will endeavour to overturn the ship unless he has an empty cask to play with.”

When the “History of Florence” was finished, Machiavelli took it to Rome for presentation to his patron, Giuliano de’ Medici, who had in the meanwhile become pope under the title of Clement VII. It is somewhat remarkable that, as, in 1513, Machiavelli had written “The Prince” for the instruction of the Medici after they had just regained power in Florence, so, in 1525, he dedicated the “History of Florence” to the head of the family when its ruin was now at hand. In that year the battle of Pavia destroyed the French rule in Italy, and left Francis I a prisoner in the hands of his great rival, Charles V. This was followed by the sack of Rome, upon the news of which the popular party at Florence threw off the yoke of the Medici, who were once more banished.

Machiavelli was absent from Florence at this time, but hastened his return, hoping to secure his former office of secretary to the “Ten of Liberty and Peace.” Unhappily he was taken ill soon after he reached Florence, where he died on 22nd June 1527.

THE MAN AND HIS WORKS

No one can say where the bones of Machiavelli rest, but modern Florence has decreed him a stately cenotaph in Santa Croce, by the side of her most famous sons; recognizing that, whatever other nations may have found in his works, Italy found in them the idea of her unity and the germs of her renaissance among the nations of Europe. Whilst it is idle to protest against the world-wide and evil signification of his name, it may be pointed out that the harsh construction of his doctrine which this sinister reputation implies was unknown to his own day, and that the researches of recent times have enabled us to interpret him more reasonably. It is due to these inquiries that the shape of an “unholy necromancer,” which so long haunted men’s vision, has begun to fade.

Machiavelli was undoubtedly a man of great observation, acuteness, and industry; noting with appreciative eye whatever passed before him, and with his supreme literary gift turning it to account in his enforced retirement from affairs. He does not present himself, nor is he depicted by his contemporaries, as a type of that rare combination, the successful statesman and author, for he appears to have been only moderately prosperous in his several embassies and political employments. He was misled by Catherina Sforza, ignored by Louis XII, overawed by Cesare Borgia; several of his embassies were quite barren of results; his attempts to fortify Florence failed, and the soldiery that he raised astonished everybody by their cowardice. In the conduct of his own affairs he was timid and time-serving; he dared not appear by the side of Soderini, to whom he owed so much, for fear of compromising himself; his connection with the Medici was open to suspicion, and Giuliano appears to have recognized his real forte when he set him to write the “History of Florence,” rather than employ him in the state. And it is on the literary side of his character, and there alone, that we find no weakness and no failure.

Although the light of almost four centuries has been focused on “The Prince,” its problems are still debatable and interesting, because they are the eternal problems between the ruled and their rulers. Such as they are, its ethics are those of Machiavelli’s contemporaries; yet they cannot be said to be out of date so long as the governments of Europe rely on material rather than on moral forces. Its historical incidents and personages become interesting by reason of the uses which Machiavelli makes of them to illustrate his theories of government and conduct.

Leaving out of consideration those maxims of state which still furnish some European and eastern statesmen with principles of action, “The Prince” is bestrewn with truths that can be proved at every turn. Men are still the dupes of their simplicity and greed, as they were in the days of Alexander VI. The cloak of religion still conceals the vices which Machiavelli laid bare in the character of Ferdinand of Aragon. Men will not look at things as they really are, but as they wish them to be — and are ruined. In politics there are no perfectly safe courses; prudence consists in choosing the least dangerous ones. Then — to pass to a higher plane — Machiavelli reiterates that, although crimes may win an empire, they do not win glory. Necessary wars are just wars, and the arms of a nation are hallowed when it has no other resource but to fight.

It is the cry of a far later day than Machiavelli’s that government should be elevated into a living moral force, capable of inspiring the people with a just recognition of the fundamental principles of society; to this “high argument” “The Prince” contributes but little. Machiavelli always refused to write either of men or of governments otherwise than as he found them, and he writes with such skill and insight that his work is of abiding value. But what invests “The Prince” with more than a merely artistic or historical interest is the incontrovertible truth that it deals with the great principles which still guide nations and rulers in their relationship with each other and their neighbours.

In translating “The Prince” my aim has been to achieve at all costs an exact literal rendering of the original, rather than a fluent paraphrase adapted to the modern notions of style and expression. Machiavelli was no facile phrasemonger; the conditions under which he wrote obliged him to weigh every word; his themes were lofty, his substance grave, his manner nobly plain and serious. “Quis eo fuit unquam in partiundis rebus, in definiendis, in explanandis pressior?” In “The Prince,” it may be truly said, there is reason assignable, not only for every word, but for the position of every word. To an Englishman of Shakespeare’s time the translation of such a treatise was in some ways a comparatively easy task, for in those times the genius of the English more nearly resembled that of the Italian language; to the Englishman of to-day it is not so simple. To take a single example: the word “intrattenere,” employed by Machiavelli to indicate the policy adopted by the Roman Senate towards the weaker states of Greece, would by an Elizabethan be correctly rendered “entertain,” and every contemporary reader would understand what was meant by saying that “Rome entertained the Aetolians and the Achaeans without augmenting their power.” But to-day such a phrase would seem obsolete and ambiguous, if not unmeaning: we are compelled to say that “Rome maintained friendly relations with the Aetolians,” etc., using four words to do the work of one. I have tried to preserve the pithy brevity of the Italian so far as was consistent with an absolute fidelity to the sense. If the result be an occasional asperity I can only hope that the reader, in his eagerness to reach the author’s meaning, may overlook the roughness of the road that leads him to it.

The following is a list of the works of Machiavelli:

Principal works. Discorso sopra le cose di Pisa, 1499; Del modo di trattare i popoli della Valdichiana ribellati, 1502; Del modo tenuto dal duca Valentino nell’ ammazzare Vitellozzo Vitelli, Oliverotto da Fermo, etc., 1502; Discorso sopra la provisione del danaro, 1502; Decennale primo (poem in terza rima), 1506; Ritratti delle cose dell’ Alemagna, 1508-12; Decennale secondo, 1509; Ritratti delle cose di Francia, 1510; Discorsi sopra la prima deca di T. Livio, 3 vols., 1512-17; Il Principe, 1513; Andria, comedy translated from Terence, 1513 (?); Mandragola, prose comedy in five acts, with prologue in verse, 1513; Della lingua (dialogue), 1514; Clizia, comedy in prose, 1515 (?); Belfagor arcidiavolo (novel), 1515; Asino d’oro (poem in terza rima), 1517; Dell’ arte della guerra, 1519-20; Discorso sopra il riformare lo stato di Firenze, 1520; Sommario delle cose della citta di Lucca, 1520; Vita di Castruccio Castracani da Lucca, 1520; Istorie fiorentine, 8 books, 1521-5; Frammenti storici, 1525.

Other poems include Sonetti, Canzoni, Ottave, and Canti carnascialeschi.

Editions. Aldo, Venice, 1546; della Tertina, 1550; Cambiagi, Florence, 6 vols., 1782-5; dei Classici, Milan, 10 1813; Silvestri, 9 vols., 1820-2; Passerini, Fanfani, Milanesi, 6 vols. only published, 1873-7.

Minor works. Ed. F. L. Polidori, 1852; Lettere familiari, ed. E. Alvisi, 1883, 2 editions, one with excisions; Credited Writings, ed. G. Canestrini, 1857; Letters to F. Vettori, see A. Ridolfi, Pensieri intorno allo scopo di N. Machiavelli nel libro Il Principe, etc.; D. Ferrara, The Private Correspondence of Nicolo Machiavelli, 1929.

MACHIAVELLI by John Morley

The greatest of the Florentines has likened worldly fame to the breath of the wind that blows now one way and now another way, and changes name as it changes quarter. From every quarter, and all the points of the historical compass, the veering gusts of public judgment have carried incessantly along from country to country and from generation to generation, with countless mutations of aspect and of innuendo, the sinister renown of Machiavelli. Before he had been dead fifty years, his name had become a byword and a proverb. From Thomas Cromwell and Elizabeth; from the massacre of St. Bartholomew, through League and Fronde, through Louis XIV., Revolution, and Empire, down to the third Napoleon and the days of December; from the Lutheran Reformation down to the blood and iron of Prince Bismarck; from Ferdinand the Catholic down to Don Carlos; from the Sack of Rome down to Gioberti, Mazzini, and Cavour; in all the great countries all over the West, this singular shade is seen haunting men’s minds, exciting, frightening, provoking, perplexing them, like some unholy necromancer, bewildering reason and conscience by riddles and paradox. So far from withering or fading, his repute and his writings seem to attract deeper consideration as time goes on, and they have never been objects of more copious attention all over Europe than in the half-century that is now closing.

In the long and fierce struggle, from the fifteenth century onwards, among rival faiths and between contending forces in civil government, Machiavelli was hated and attacked from every side. In the great rising up of new types of life in the Church, and of life in the State, his name stood for something that partisans of old and new alike professed to abhor. The Church first tolerated, if it did not patronise, his writings; but soon, under the double stress of the Reformation in Germany on one hand, and the pagan Renaissance in Italy on the other, it placed him in that Index of forbidden books which now first (1557), in dread of the new art of printing, crept into formal existence. He speedily came to be denounced as schismatical, heretical, perverse, the impious foe of faith and truth. He was burnt in effigy. His book was denounced as written with the very fingers of Satan himself. The vituperation of the sixteenth century has never been surpassed either among learned or unlearned men, and the dead Machiavelli came in for his full share of unmeasured words. As Voltaire has said of Dante that his fame is secure because nobody reads him, so in an inverse sense, the bad name of Machiavelli grew worse, because men reproached, confuted, and cursed, but never read. Catholics attacked him as the enemy of the Holy See, and Protestants attacked him because he looked to a restoration of the spirit of ancient Rome, instead of a restoration of the faith and discipline of the primitive Church. While both of them railed at him, Catholic and Protestant each reviled the other as Machiavellist. In France national prejudice against the famous Italian queen-mother hit Machiavelli too, for his book was declared to be the oracle of Catherine de Medici, to whose father it was dedicated; it was held responsible for the Bartholomew massacre and the Huguenot wars. In Spain opposite ground was taken, and he who elsewhere was blamed as the advocate of persecution, was abominated here as the enemy of wars of religion, and the advocate of that monstrous thing, civil toleration. In England, royalists called him an atheist, and roundheads called him a Jesuit. A recent German writer has noted three hundred and ninety-five references to him in our Elizabethan literature, all fixing him with the craft, malice, and hypocrisy of the Evil One. Everybody knows how Hudibras finds in his Christian name the origin of our domestic title for the devil, though scholars have now long taught us to refer it to Nyke, the water-goblin of Norse mythology.

Some divines scented mischief in the comparative method, and held up their hands at the impudent wickedness that dared to find a parallel between people in the Bible and people in profane history, between King David and Philip of Macedon. Whenever a bad name floated into currency, it was flung at Machiavelli, and his own name was counted among the worst that could be flung at a bad man. Averroes for a couple of centuries became a conventional label for a scoffer and an atheist, and Machiavelli, though he cared no more for the abstract problems that exercised the Moslem thinker, than he would have cared for the inward sanctities of Thomas à Kempis, was held up to odium as an Averroist. The Annals of Tacitus were discovered: his stern ironies on Tiberius and the rest did not prevent one school of politicians from treating his book as a manual for tyrants, while another school applied it against the Holy Roman Empire; his name was caught up in the storms of the hour, and Machiavellism and Tacitism became convertible terms.

It is not possible here to follow the varying fates of Machiavelli’s name and books. The tale of Machiavellian criticism in our own century is a long one. That criticism has followed the great stream of political events in continental Europe; for it is events after all that make the fortune of books, rather than books that create events. Revolutions in France, unification in Italy, unification in Germany, the disappearance of the Temporal Power, the activity of the principle of Nationality, the realisation of the idea of the Armed People, have all in turn and in different forms raised the questions to which Machiavelli gave such daring point. On the medallion that commemorates him in the church of Santa Croce, are the words, Tanto nomini nullum par elogium, So great a name no praise can match. We only need to think of Michelangelo and Galileo reposing near him, in order to realise the extravagance of such a phrase, and to understand that reaction in his favour has gone as intolerably far as the old diatribes against him.

It may be doubted whether in this country Machiavelli has ever been widely read. Thomas Cromwell, the powerful minister of Henry VIII., the malleus monachorum, told Cardinal Pole that he had better fling aside dreamers like Plato, and read a new book by an ingenious Italian which treated the arts of government practically. Cromwell in his early wanderings had been more than once in Italy, and he was probably at Florence at the very time when Machiavelli was writing his books at his country farm. But a more shining figure in English history than Cromwell, was even more profoundly attracted by the genius of Machiavelli, and this was Bacon. It was natural that his vast and comprehensive genius should admire the extension to the sphere of civil government, of the same method which he was advocating in the investigation of external nature. ‘We are much beholden,’ he said, ‘to Machiavel and others that wrote what men do, and not what they ought to do.’ The rejection of a priori and abstract principles, and of authority as the test of truth, the substitution of chains of observed fact for syllogism with major premiss unproved — this revolution in method could not be reserved, for one department of thought. Bacon’s references are mainly to the Discourses and not to the Prince, but he had well digested both. The Essays bear the impress of Machiavelli’s positive spirit, and Bacon’s ideal of history is his. ‘Its true office is to represent the events themselves, together with the counsels, and to leave the observations and conclusions thereupon to the liberty and faculty of every man’s judgment.’ His own history of Henry VII. is a good example of such a life as Machiavelli would have written of such a hero.

The most powerful English thinker of Machiavelli’s political school is Hobbes. He drew similar lessons from a similar experience — the distractions of Civil War at home, and the growth, which he watched during many years of exile, of centralised monarchy abroad. Less important is Harrington, whose Oceana or model of a commonwealth was once so famous, and is in truth one of the most sensible productions of that kind of literature. Harrington travelled in Italy, was much at home with Italian politics and books on politics, and perhaps studied Machiavelli more faithfully than any other of his countrymen. He tells us, writing after the Restoration, that his works had then fallen into neglect. Scattered through the Patriot King and other writings of Bolingbroke are half a dozen references to Machiavelli, but they have the air, to use a phrase of Bacon’s, of being but cloves stuck in to spice the dish, and the Italian’s pregnant thinking has no serious place in an author whose performances are little more than splendid beating of the wind. Hume had evidently read the Discourses, the Prince, and the History of Florence with attention, and with his usual faculty for hitting the nail on the head, he avows a suspicion that the world is still too young to fix many general truths in politics. We have not as yet had experience of 3000 years. We do not know of what great changes human nature may show itself susceptible, nor what great revolutions may come about in men’s customs and principles.

It would take a long chapter to draw a full comparison between Machiavelli and Montesquieu, who was undoubtedly set by him on some trains of thinking both in his short book on the Romans, and his more memorable book on Laws. It may be too much to say, as some critics have said, that all the great modern ideas have their beginning in Montesquieu. But this is at least true among other marked claims that might be made for him, that in spite of much looseness of definition and a thousand imperfections in detail, he launched effectually on European thought the conception of social phenomena as being no less subject to general laws than all other phenomena. Of a fundamental extension of this kind, Machiavelli was in every way incapable, nor did the state of any of the sciences at that date permit it. As for secondary differences it is enough to say that Machiavelli put the level of human character low, and Montesquieu put it high; that one was always looking to fact, the other to idea; that one was sombre, the other buoyant, cheerful, and an optimist; Montesquieu confident in the moral forces of mankind, Machiavelli leaving moral forces out, and not knowing where to look for them. Finally, ‘Montesquieu’s book is a study, Machiavelli’s is a political act, an attempt at political resurrection.’

When Machiavelli turned to serious writing, he was five-and-forty (b. 1469). His life had been interesting and important. For fifteen years he held the post of secretary of one of the departments in the government of Florence, where he was brought into close relations with some of the most remarkable personages and events of his time. He went four times on a mission to the King of France; he was with Cæsar Borgia in the ruthless campaign of 1502; he did the business of his republic with Pope Julius II. at Rome, and with the Emperor Maximilian at Innsbruck. The modern practice of resident ambassadors had not yet established itself in the European system, and Machiavelli was never more than an envoy of secondary rank. But he was in personal communication with sovereigns and ministers, and he was a watchful observer of all their ways and motives. We need not here concern ourselves with all the chances and changes of Italian policies in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. In the long struggle between freedom and tyranny in his native Florence, Machiavelli belonged to the popular party. When they fell in 1512, and when the Medici returned, he was turned out of his post, thrown into prison, put to the question with ropes and pulleys, according to the fashion of the time, shared the benefit of the amnesty accorded when Leo X. ascended the papal throne, and withdrew to San Casciano. This was the time when he composed most of the writings that have made him famous. Here is his picture of himself, in a letter to a friend (December 10, 1513): —

‘I am at my farm; and, since my last misfortunes, have not been in Florence twenty days. I rise with the sun, and go into a wood of mine that is being cut, where I remain two hours inspecting the work of the previous day and conversing with the woodcutters, who have always some trouble on hand among themselves or with their neighbours. When I leave the wood, I proceed to a well, and thence to the place which I use for snaring birds, with a book under my arm — Dante, or Petrarch, or one of the minor poets, like Tibullus or Ovid. I read the story of their passions, and let their loves remind me of my own, which is a pleasant pastime for a while. Next I take the road, enter the inn door, talk with the passers-by, inquire the news of the neighbourhood, listen to a variety of matters, and make note of the different tastes and humours of men. This brings me to dinner-time, when I join my family and eat the poor produce of my farm. After dinner I go back to the inn, where I generally find the host and a butcher, a miller, and a pair of bakers. With these companions I play the fool all day at cards or backgammon: a thousand squabbles, a thousand insults and abusive dialogues take place, while we haggle over a farthing, and shout loud enough to be heard from San Casciano. But when evening falls I go home and enter my writing-room. On the threshold I put off my country habit, filthy with mud and mire, and array myself in royal courtly garments; thus worthily attired, I make my entrance into the ancient courts of the men of old, where they receive me with love, and where I feed upon that food which only is my own and for which I was born. I feel no shame in conversing with them and asking them the reason of their actions. They, moved by their humanity, make answer; for four hours’ space I feel no annoyance, forget all care; poverty cannot frighten, nor death appal me. I am carried away to their society. And since Dante says “that there is no science unless we retain what we have learned,” I have set down what I have gained from their discourse, and composed a treatise, De Principatibus, in which I enter as deeply as I can into the science of the subject, with reasonings on the nature of principality, its several species, and how they are acquired, how maintained, how lost. If you ever liked any of my scribblings, this ought to suit your taste. To a prince, and especially to a new prince, it ought to prove acceptable. Therefore I am dedicating it to the Magnificence of Giuliano.’

Machiavelli was not meant either by temperament or principle to be a willing martyr. Not for him was the stern virtue of Dante, who accepted lifelong exile rather than restoration with dishonour, content from any corner of the earth to wonder at the sun and the stars, and under any sky to meditate all sweetest truths (le dolcissime verità). Not for the ambitious and practical politician was the choice of Savonarola, who, at the moment when Machiavelli was crossing the threshold of public life, had perished at the stake, rather than cease from his warnings that no good could come to Florence save from the fear of God and the reform of manners. Nobody had in him less of the Stoic; his private character was not more austere than the Italian morality of his day; his purse was painfully lean; his active and restless mind suffered from that ‘malady of lost power’ which, they say, is apt to afflict members of Opposition, and he longed to be back in the business of the State. So he dedicated his book to Lorenzo, in the hope that such speaking proof of his experience and capacity would induce the destroyers of the freedom of his city to give him public employment. His suppleness did not pay. Nothing came of the dedication for several years. Then some trivial duties were found for Machiavelli, and one important literary task was intrusted to him, the history of Florence. This he completed and dedicated to Leo X. in 1527. To the same period belongs a comedy which some have described as worthy of Aristophanes, and hardly second to the Tartufe of Molière. Like Bacon and some others who have written the shrewdest things on human conduct and the arts of success, he had made a sorry mess of his own chances and gifts. It is always interesting to watch how men take the ill-usage of the world and the miscarriages of life. Machiavelli’s was one of those grave intellects, apt for serious thought, yet which easily turn to levity, console themselves for failure by mockery of themselves, and repay Fortune with her own banter. This is the vein of the brilliant burlesque and satire with which this versatile genius diversified his closing days. Still, with indomitable perseverance he clung to public things, and he now composed the dialogues on the Art of War, to induce his countrymen to substitute for mercenary armies a national militia — to-day one of the organic ideas of the European system. Amo la patria mia più dell’ anima, he wrote to a friend just before his death, and one view of Machiavelli is that he was always the lion masquerading in the fox’s skin, an impassioned patriot, under all his craft and jest and bitter mockery. Even Mazzini, who explained the ruin of Italy by the fact that Machiavelli prevailed over Dante, admits that he had ‘a profoundly Italian heart.’ In 1527 he died.

Machiavelli’s active life, then, was passed in council-chambers, camps, courts; he pondered over what he had seen in the light of the few books that be had read, — Livy, Polybius, Tacitus, some portion of Aristotle’s Politics, Dante, Petrarch. Nobody borrowed more, and yet few are more original. If he had ever read Thucydides, he would have recalled that first great chapter in European literature, still indeed the greatest in its kind, of reflections on a revolution, where with incomparable insight and fidelity the historian analyses the demoralisation of the Hellenic world, as it lay a prey to intestine faction and the ruinous invocation of foreign aid. These terrible calamities, says Thucydides, always have been and always will be, while human nature remains the same. Words cease to have the same relations to things, and their meanings are changed, to suit the ingenuities of enterprise and the atrocities of revenge. Frantic energy is the quality most valued, and the man of violence is always trusted. That simplicity which is a chief ingredient of a noble nature, is laughed to scorn. Inferior intellects succeed best. Revenge becomes dearer than self-preservation, and men even have a sweeter pleasure in the revenge that goes with perfidy, than if it were open. All this was just as true of Florence in the sixteenth century, as it was of Athens, Corinth, and Corcyra in the fifth century before Christ. The postulate of Thucydides, that human nature should remain the same, still held good, as it has held good at many a stormful period since, the social progress of the ages notwithstanding.

Whether the moral state of Italy was intrinsically and substantially worse than that of other European nations, is a question which those who know most, are least disposed to answer offhand. Still Italy presents some peculiarities that shed over her civilisation at this time a curious and deadly iridescence. Passions moved in strange orbits. Private depravity and political debasement went with one of the most brilliant intellectual awakenings in the history of the western world. Another dark element is the association of merciless selfishness, violence, craft, and corruption with the administration of sacred things. If politics were divorced from morals, so was theology. Modem conscience is shocked by the resort to hired crime and stealthy assassination, especially by poison. Mariana, the famous Spanish Jesuit, tells us (De Rege, i. 7) that when he was teaching theology in Sicily (1567), a certain young prince asked him whether it were lawful to slay a tyrant by poison. The theologian did not find it easy to draw a distinction between poison and steel, but at last he fell upon a reason (and a most absurd reason it is) for his decision that a poniard is permitted and white powder is not. What distinguishes the Italian Renaissance from such epochs of luxury and corruption as the French Regency, is this contempt of human life, the fury of private revenge, the spirit of atrocious perfidy and crime. ‘Italian society admired the bravo almost as much as Imperial Rome admired the gladiator: it assumed that genius combined with force of character released men from the shackles of ordinary morality’ (Symonds). Only a giant like Michelangelo escaped this deadly climate. We see the violence of Michelangelo’s sublime despair in the immortal marbles of the Medicean chapel, executed while Machiavelli was still alive — Lorenzo, to whom the Prince is dedicated, silent, pensive, meditating under his helmet, with finger upon lip, some stroke of dubious war or craft, and the sombre superhuman figures of Night and Dawn and Day, proclaiming ‘it is best to sleep and be of stone, not to see and not to feel, while such misery and shame endure.’

Machiavelli’s merit in the history of political literature is his method. We may smile at the uncritical simplicity with which he discusses Romulus and Remus, Moses, Cyrus, and Theseus, as if they were all astute politicians of Florentine faction. He often recalls the orator in the French Constituent Assembly who proposed to send to Crete for an authentic copy of the laws of Minos. But he withdrew politics from scholasticism, and based their consideration upon observation and experience. It is quite true that he does not classify his problems; that he does not place them in their proper subordination to one another; that he often brings together facts that are not of the same order and do not support the same conclusion. Nothing, again, is easier than for the critic to find contradictions in Machiavelli. He was a man of the world reflecting over the things that he had seen in public life; more systematic than observers like Retz or Commynes — whom Sainte-Beuve calls the French Machiavelli — but not systematic as Hobbes is. Human things have many sides and many aspects, and an observant man of the world does not confine himself to one way of looking at them, from fear of being thought inconsistent. To put on the blinkers of system was alien to his nature and his object. Contradictions were inevitable, but the general texture of his thought is close enough.

Machiavelli was not the first of his countrymen to write down thoughts on the problems of the time, though it has been observed that he is the first writer, still celebrated, ‘who discussed grave questions in modern language’ (Mackintosh). Apart from Dante and Petrarch, various less famous men had theorised about affairs of state. Guicciardini, the contemporary and friend of Machiavelli, like him a man of public business and of the world, composed observations on government, of which Cavour said that they showed a better comprehension of affairs than the author of the Prince and the Discourses. But then the latter had the better talent of writing. One most competent Italian critic calls his prose ‘divine,’ and a foreigner has perhaps no right to differ; only what word is then left for the really great writers, who to intellectual strength add moral grandeur? Napoleon hated a general who made mental pictures of what he saw, instead of looking at the thing clearly as through a field-glass. Machiavelli’s is the style of the field-glass. ‘I want to write something,’ he said, ‘that may be useful to the understanding man; it seems better for me to go behind to the real truth of things, rather than to a fancy picture.’ Every sentence represents a thought or a thing. He is never open to the reproach thrown by Aristotle at Plato: ‘This is to talk poetic metaphor.’ As has been said much less truly of Montesquieu, reflection is not broken by monuments and landscapes. He has the highest of all the virtues that prose-writing can possess — save the half-dozen cases in literature of genius with unconquerable wings, — he is simple, unaffected, direct, vivid, and rational. He possesses the truest of all forms of irony, which consists in literal statement, and of which you are not sure whether it is irony or naïveté. He disentangles his thought from the fact so skilfully and cleanly, that it looks almost obvious. Nobody has ever surpassed him in the power of throwing pregnant vigour into a single concentrated word. Of some pages it has been well said that they are written with the point of a stiletto. He uses few of our loud easy words of praise and blame, he is not often sorry or glad, he does not smile and he does not scold, he is seldom indignant and he is never surprised. He has not even the mastering human infirmity of trying to persuade. His business is that of the clinical lecturer, explaining the nature of the malady, the proper treatment, and the chances of recovery. He strips away the flowing garments of convention and commonplace; closes his will against sympathy and feeling; ignores pity as an irrelevance, just as the operating surgeon does. In the phrase about Fontenelle, he shows as good a heart as can be made out of brains. What concerns Machiavelli, the Italian critic truly says, ‘is not a thing being reasonable, or moral, or beautiful, but that it is.’ Yet at the bottom of all the confused clamour against him, people knew what they meant, and their instinct was not unsound. Mankind, and well they know it, are far too profoundly concerned in right and wrong, in mercy and cruelty, in justice and oppression, to favour a teacher who, even for a scientific purpose of his own, forgets the awful difference. Commonplace, after all, is exactly what contains the truths that are indispensable.

Like most of those who take a pride in seeing human nature as it is, Machiavelli only saw half of it. We must remember the atmosphere of craft, suspicion, fraud, violence, in which he had moved, with Borgias, Medici, Pope Julius, Maximilian, Louis XII., and the reckless factions of Florence. His estimate was low. Mankind are more prone to evil than to good. We may say this of them generally, that they are ungrateful, fickle, deceivers, greedy of gain, runaways before peril. While you serve them, they are all yours — lives, goods, children — so long as no danger is at hand; but when the hour of need draws nigh, they turn their backs. They are readier to seek revenge for wrong, than to prove gratitude for service: as Tacitus says of people who lived in Italy long ages before, readier to pay back injury than kindness. Men never do anything good, unless they are driven; and where they have their choice, and can use what licence they will, all is filled with disorder and confusion. They are taken in by appearances. They follow the event. They easily become corrupted. Their will is weak. They know not how to be either thoroughly good or thoroughly bad; they vacillate between; they take middle paths, the worst of all. Men are a little breed.

All this is not satire, it is not misanthropy; it is the student of the art of government, thinking over the material with which he has to deal. These judgments of Machiavelli have none of the wrath of Juvenal, none of the savage truculence of Swift. They cut deeper into simple reality than the polished proverbs of the moralists of the boudoir. They have not the bitterness that hides in the laugh of Molière, nor the chagrin and disdain with which Pascal broods over unhappy man and his dark lot. Least of all are they the voice of the preacher calling sinners to repentance. The tale is only a rather grim record, from inspection, of the foundations on which the rulers of states must do their best to build.

Goethe’s maxim that, if you would improve a man, it is no bad thing to let him suppose that you already think him that which you would have him to be, would have seemed to Machiavelli as foolish for his purpose as if you were to furnish an architect with clay, and bid him to treat it as if it were iron. He will suffer no abstraction to interrupt positive observation. Man is what he is, and so he needs to be bitted and bridled with laws, and now and again to be treated to a stiff dose of ‘ medicine forti ‘ in the shape of fire, bullet, axe, halter, or dungeon. At any rate, Machiavelli does not leave human nature out, and this is one secret of his hold. He does not argue pale opinions, but passions and interests in all the flush of their action. It is, in truth, in every case, — Burke, Rousseau, Tocqueville, Hobbes, Bentham, Mill, and the rest — always the moralist who interests men most within the publicist. Machiavelli was assuredly a moralist, though of a peculiar sort, and this is what makes him, as he has been called, a contemporary of every age and a citizen of all countries.

To the question whether the world grows better or worse, Machiavelli gave an answer that startles an age like ours, that lives on its faith in progress. The world neither grows better nor worse; in fact it is always the same. Human fortunes are never still; they are every moment either going up or sinking down. But among all nations and states, the same desires, the same humours prevail, and are what they always were. Men are for travelling on the beaten track. Diligently study bygone things, and in every State you will be able to discover the things to come. All the things that have been may be again. Just as the modern physicist tells us that neither physical nor chemical transformation changes the mass nor the weight of any quantity of matter, so Machiavelli judged the good and evil in the world to be ever the same. ‘This bad and this good shift from land to land,’ he says, ‘as we may see from ancient empires; they rose and fell with the changes of their usage, but the world remained as it was. The only difference was that it concentrated its power (virtù) in Assyria, then in Media, then in Persia, until at last it came to Italy and Rome.’

In our age, when we think of the chequered course of human time, of the shocks of irreconcilable civilisations, of war, trade, faction, revolution, empire, laws, creeds, sects, we seek a clue to the vast maze of historic and pre-historic fact. Machiavelli seeks no clue to his distribution of good and evil. He never tries to find a moral interpretation for the mysterious scroll. We obey laws that we do not know, but cannot resist. We can only make an effort to seize events as they whirl by, and to extort from them a maxim, a precept, or a principle, to serve our immediate turn. Fortune, he says, — that is, Providence, or else Circumstance, or the Stars, — is mistress of more than half we do. What is her deep secret, he shows no curiosity to fathom. He contents himself with a maxim for the practical man (Prince, xxv.), that it is better to be adventurous than cautious, for Fortune is a woman, and to be mastered must be boldly handled.

Whatever the force or the law that may control this shifting distribution of imperial destinies, nothing, said Machiavelli, could prevent any native of Italy or of Greece, unless the Greek had turned Turk, or the Italian had turned Transalpine, from blaming his own time, and praising the glories of time past. ‘What,’ he cries, ‘can redeem an age from the extremity of misery, shame, reproach, where there is no regard to religion, to laws, to arms, where all is tainted and tarnished with every foulness. And these vices are all the more hateful, as they most abound in those who sit in the judgment-seat, are men’s masters, and seek men’s reverence. I, at all events,’ he concludes, with a glow so rare in him, that almost recalls the moving close of the Agricola, ‘shall make bold to say how I regard old times and new, so that the minds of the young, who shall read these writings of mine, may shun the new examples and follow the old. For it is the duty of a good man, at least to strive to teach to others those sound lessons, which the spite of time or fortune hath hindered him from executing, to the end that many having learned them, some one of those better loved by heaven may one day have power to apply them.’

What were the lessons? They were in fact only one, that the central secret of the ruin and distraction of Italy was weakness of will, want of fortitude, force, and resolution. The abstract question of the best form of government — perhaps the most barren of all the topics that have ever occupied speculative minds — was with Machiavelli strictly secondary. He saw small despotic states harried by their petty tyrants, he saw republics worn out by faction and hate. Machiavelli himself had faith in free republics as the highest type of government; but whether you have republic or tyranny, matters less, he seems to say, than that the governing power should be strong in the force of its own arms, intelligent, concentrated, resolute. He might be said to be for half his time engaged in examining the fitness of means to other people’s ends, himself neutral. But then, as nature used to be held to abhor a vacuum, so the impatience of man is loth to tolerate neutrality. He has been charged with inconsistency because in the Prince he lays down the conditions on which an absolute ruler, rising to power by force of genius backed by circumstances, may maintain that power, with safety to himself and most advantage to his subjects; while in the Discourses he examines the rules that enable a self-governing state to retain its freedom. The cardinal precepts are the same. In either case, the saving principle is one: self-sufficiency, military strength, force, flexibility, address, — above all, no half-measures. In either case, the preservation of the state is equally the one end, reason of state equally the one adequate and sufficient test and justification of the means. The Prince deals with one problem, the Discourses with the other, but the spring of Machiavelli’s political inspirations is the same, to whatever type of rule they apply — the secular state supreme; self-interest, and self-regard, avowed as the single principles of state action; material force the master-key to civil policy. Clear intelligence backed by unsparing will, unflinching energy, remorseless vigour, the brain to plan and the hand to strike — here is the salvation of States, whether monarchies or republics. The spirit of humility and resignation that Christianity had brought into the world, he contemns and repudiates. That whole scheme of the Middle Ages in which invisible Powers rule all our mortal affairs, he dismisses. Calculation, courage, fit means for resolute ends, human force, — only these can rebuild a world in ruins.

Some will deem it inconsistent, that with so few illusions about the weaknesses of human nature, yet he should have been so firm, in what figures in all our own election addresses as trust in the people. Like Aristotle, he held the many to be in the long-run the best judges; but unlike Goethe, who said that the public is always in a state of self-delusion about details, though scarcely ever about broad truths, Machiavelli declared that the public may go wrong about generalities, while as to particulars they are usually right. The people are less ungrateful than a prince, and where they are ungrateful, it is from less dishonourable motive. The multitude is wiser and more constant than a prince. Furious and uncontrolled multitudes go wrong, but then so do furious and uncontrolled princes. Both err, when not held back by fear of consequences. The people are fickle and thankless, but so are princes. ‘As for prudence and stability, I say that a people is more prudent, more stable, and of better judgment than a prince.’ Never let a prince, he said — and perhaps we might say, never let a parliament of united kingdoms — complain of the faults of a people under his rule, for they are due either to his own negligence, or else to his own example, and if you consider a people given to robbery and outrages against law, you will generally find that they only copy their masters. Above all, and in any case, the ruler, whether hereditary or an usurper, can have no safety unless he founds himself on popular favour and good-will. This he repeats a hundred times. ‘Better far than any number of fortresses, is not to be hated by your people.’

It is then to the free Roman commonwealth that Machiavelli would have his countrymen turn. He found the pattern that he wanted in that strong respect for law, that devotion to country, that unquailing courage, that energy of purpose, which has been truly called the essence of free Rome. Modern Germans, for good reasons of their own, have taken to praise him, but Machiavelli has nothing to do with that most brilliant and illustrious of living German scholars, who idolises Julius Cæsar, despatches Cato as a pedant, and Cicero as a coxcomb. You will hardly find in Machiavelli a good word for any destroyer of a free government. Let nobody, he says, be cheated by the glory of Cæsar. Historians have been spoiled by his success, and by the duration of the empire that continued his name. If you follow the history of the empire, you will then know with a vengeance what is the debt of Rome, Italy, and the world, to Cæsar.

Nobody has stated the argument against the revolutionary dictator more clearly or tersely than Machiavelli. He applauded the old Romans because their policy provided by a regular ordinance for an emergency, by the institution of a constitutional dictator for a fixed term, and to meet a definite occasion. ‘In a republic nothing should be left to extraordinary modes of government; because though such a mode may do good for the moment, still the example does harm, seeing that a practice of breaking the laws for good ends lends a colour to breaches of law for ends that are bad.’ Occasions no doubt arise when no ordinary means will produce reform, and then you must have recourse to violence and arms: a man must make himself supreme. But then, unfortunately, if he make himself supreme by violence, he is probably a bad man, for a good man will not climb to power by such means. No more will a bad man who has become supreme in this way be likely to use his ill-gotten power for good ends. Here is the eternal dilemma of a State in convulsion.

He forbids us in any case to call it virtue to slay fellow-citizens, to betray friends, to be without faith, without mercy, without religion; such practices may win empire, but not glory. A prince who clears out a population — here we may think of James I. and Cromwell, and the authors of many a sweeping clearance since — and transplants them from province to province, as a herdsman moves his flock, does what is most cruel, most alien, not only to Christianity, but to common humanity. It were far better for a man, he says, to choose a private life, than to be a king on the terms of making such havoc as this with the lives of other men (Disc., i. 26).

It may be true, as Danton said, that ‘twere better to be a poor fisherman than to meddle with the government of men. Yet nations and men find themselves inexorably confronted by the practical question. Government they must find. Given a corrupt, a divided, a distracted community, how are you to restore it? The last chapter of the Prince is an eloquent appeal to the representative of the House of Medici to heal the bruises and bind up the wounds of his torn and enslaved country. The view has been taken that this last chapter has nothing to do with the fundamental ideas of the book; that its glow is incompatible with the iron harshness of all that has gone before; that it was an afterthought, dictated partly by Machiavelli’s personal hopes, and then picked up later by his defenders as whitewashing guilty maxims by ascribing them to large and lofty purpose. The balance of argument seems to me to lean this way, and Machiavelli for five-and-twenty chapters was thinking of new princes generally, and not of a great Italian deliverer. At the same time, he was not a man cast in a single mould. It may be that on reviewing his chapters, his heart became suddenly alive to their frigidity, and that the closing words flowed from the deeps of what was undoubtedly sincere and passionate feeling.

However this may be, whether the whole case of Italy or the special case of any new prince, was in his contemplation, the quality of the man required is drawn in four chapters (xv.-xviii.) with piercing eye and a hand that does not flinch. The ruler’s business is to save the State. He cannot practise all virtues, first because he is not very likely to possess them, and next because, where so many people are bad, he would not be a match for the world if he were perfectly good. But he should be on his guard against all vices, so far as possible; he should at all events scrupulously abstain from every vice that might endanger his government. There are two ways of carrying on the fight — one by laws, the other by force. The first is the proper distinction of man; the second is the mark of the brute. As the first is not always enough, you must sometimes resort to the second. You must be both lion and fox, and the man who is only lion, is not wise. A wise prince neither can, nor ought to, keep his word, when to keep his word would injure either himself or the State, or when the reasons that made him give his promise have passed away. If men were all good, such a maxim as this would be bad; but as men are inclined to evil, and would not all keep faith with you, why should you keep faith with them? Nostra cattività, la lor — our badness, their badness. There are some good qualities which the new ruler need not have, still he should appear to have them. It is well to appear merciful, faithful, religious, and to be so. Religion is the most necessary thing of all for a prince to seek credit for. But the new prince should know how to change to the contrary of all these things, when they are in the way of the public good. For it is frequently necessary — and here is the sentence that has done so much to damn its writer — for the upholding of the State, to go to work against faith, against charity, against humanity, against religion; and a new prince cannot observe all the things for which men are reckoned good.

The property of his subjects he will leave alone, for a man will sooner forgive the slaying of his father than the confiscation of his patrimony. He should try to have a character for mercy, but this should never be allowed to prevent severity on just occasion. He must bear in mind the good saying reported in Livy, that many people know better how to keep from doing wrong, than how to correct the wrongdoing of others. He ought not to let excess of trust make him careless, nor excess of distrust to make him intolerable. It would be well if he could be both loved and feared; but, if circumstances force a choice, then it is better that he should be feared. To be feared is not the same as being hated, and the two things to be most avoided are hatred on the one hand, and contempt on the other.

The universal test is reason of State. We should never condemn a man for extraordinary acts to which he has been compelled to resort in establishing his empire or founding a republic. In a case where the safety of a country is concerned, whether it be princedom or republic, no regard ought to be paid to justice or injustice, to pity or severity, to glory or shame; but putting aside every other consideration, that course alone ought to be followed which may preserve to the country its existence and its freedom. Diderot pithily put the superficial impression of all this when he said that you might head these chapters as ‘The circumstances under which it is right for a Prince to be a Scoundrel.’ A profounder commentary of a concrete kind is furnished by Mommsen’s account of Sulla — an extraordinary literary masterpiece, even in the view of those who think its politics most perverse. Such a Sulla was the real type of Machiavelli’s reformer of a rotten State.

It has been a commonplace of reproachful criticism that Machiavelli chose for his hero Cæsar Borgia. Not only was Borgia a monster, it is said, but he failed. The baleful meteor flamed across the sky for little more than four years, and then went out. If only success should command admiration, Borgia and his swiftly shattered fortunes ought to be indifferent to Machiavelli and the world for which he was writing. What Machiavelli says is this— ‘I put him forward,’ he writes, ‘as a model for such as climb to power by good fortune and the help of others. He did everything that a long-headed and capable man could do, who desires to strike root. I will show you how broad were the foundations that he laid for the fabric of his future power. I do not know what better lessons I could teach a new prince (i.e. an usurper) than his example. If what he did failed in the end, it was all due to the extreme malignity of fortune.’ He makes no hero of him, except as a type of character well fitted for a given task.

Machiavelli knew him at close quarters. He was sent on a mission to Borgia in the crisis of his fortunes, and he saw in him the very qualities of action, force, combat, calculation, resolution, that the weakness of the age required. Machiavelli was in his train when terrible things were done. Cæsar was close, solitary, secret, quick. When any business is on foot, said Machiavelli, he knows nothing of rest or weariness or risk. He no sooner reached a place, than you heard that he had left it. He was loved by his troopers, for though he meted stern punishment for every offence against discipline, he was liberal in pay, and put little restraint on their freedom. Though no talker, when he had to make a case he was so fluent and pressing, that it was hard to find an answer. He was a great judge of occasion. Bold, crafty, resolute, deep, and above all well known never to forget or forgive an injury, he fascinated men with the terror of the basilisk. His firm maxim was to seek order by giving his new subjects a good and firm government, including a civil tribunal with a just president. Remiro was his first governor in the Romagna. It is uncertain how Remiro incurred his master’s displeasure, but one morning Machiavelli walked out into the market-place at Cesena, and saw Remiro, as he puts it, in two pieces, his head on a lance, and his body still covered with his fine clothes, resting on a block with a blood-stained axe by the side of it. His captains, beginning to penetrate Cæsar’s designs, and fearing that he would seize their petty dominions — like the leaves of an artichoke, as he said — one by one, revolted. Undaunted, he gathered new forces. Fresh bands of mercenaries flocked to the banners of a chief who had money, skill, and a happy star. The conspirators were no match for him in swiftness, activity, or resources; they allowed him to sow the seeds of disunion among them; he duped them into making a convention with him, which they had little thought of keeping. Everybody who knew his revengeful and implacable spirit was sure that the conspirators were doomed. When Machiavelli came near one of them he felt, he says, the deadly odour of a corpse. With many arts, the duke got them to meet him at Sinigaglia. He received their greetings cordially, pressed their hands, and gave them the accolade. They all rode into the town together, talking of military things. Cæsar courteously invited them to enter the palace, then quitted them, and they were immediately seized. ‘I doubt if they will be alive to-morrow morning,’ the Florentine secretary wrote without emotion to his government. They went through some form of trial, and before daybreak two of them were strangled, and two others shared the same fate as soon as Cæsar knew that the Pope had carried out his plans for making away by poison with the Cardinal who headed the rebellious faction at Rome.

Let us pause for a moment. One of the victims of Sinigaglia was Oliverotto da Fermo. His story is told in the eighth chapter of the Prince. He had been brought up from childhood by an uncle; he went out into the world to learn military service; in course of time, one day he wrote to his uncle at Fermo that he should like once more to see him and his paternal city, and, by way of showing his good compatriots that he had won some honour in life, he purposed to bring a hundred horsemen in his company. He came, and was honourably received. He invited his uncle and the chief men of Fermo to a feast, and when the feast was over, his soldiers sprang upon the guests and slew them all, and Oliverotto became the tyrant of the place. We may at any rate forgive Cæsar for, a year later, making sure work of Oliverotto. When his last hour came, he struggled to drive his dagger into the man with the cord. Here indeed were lions, foxes, catamounts.

This is obviously the key to Machiavelli’s admiration for Borgia’s policy. The men were all bandits together. Romagna is not and never was, said Dante two hundred years before, without war in the hearts of her tyrants (Inf. xxvii. 37). So it was now. It was full, says Machiavelli, of those who are called gentlemen, who live in idleness and abundance on the revenues of their estates, without any care of cultivating them, or of incurring any of the fatigue of getting a living; such men are pernicious anywhere, but most of all are those who are lords of castles, and have subjects who are under obedience to them. These lords, before the Pope and his terrible son took them in hand, were poor, yet had a mind to live as if they were rich, and so there was nothing for it, but rapine, extortion, and every other iniquity. Whether Cæsar and the Pope had wider designs than the reduction of these oppressors to order, we can never know. Machiavelli and most contemporaries thought that they had, but German historians of to-day differ. Probably the contemporaries knew best, but nothing can matter less.

We may as well finish Cæsar’s story, because we never know until a man’s end, whether the play has been tragedy or comedy. He seemed to be lord of the ascendant, when, in the summer after the transaction of Sinigaglia (1503), the Pope and he were one evening both stricken with malarious fever at Rome. There was talk of poison, but the better opinion seems to be that this is fable. Alexander VI. died; Cæsar, in the prime of his young man’s strength, made a better fight for it, but when at last he recovered, his star had set. Machiavelli saw him and felt that Fortune this time had got the best of virtù. His subjects in the Romagna stood by him for a time, and then tyranny and disorder came back. The new Pope, Julius II., was not his friend, for though Cæsar had made the Spanish cardinals support his election, Julius had some old scores to pay, and as Machiavelli profoundly remarked, anybody who supposes that new services make great people forget old injuries, makes a vast mistake. So Cæsar found his way to Naples, with a safe conduct from Gonsalvo, the Great Captain. He reaped as he had sown. Once he had said, ‘It is well to cheat those, who have been masters of treachery.’ He now felt the force of his maxim. At Naples he was cordially received by Gonsalvo, dined often at his table, talked over all his plans, and suddenly one night as he was about to pass the postern, in spite of the safe conduct, an officer demanded his sword in the name of the King of Castile. To Spain he was sent. For some three years he went through strange and obscure adventures, fighting fortune with the aid of his indwelling demon to the very last. He was struck down in a fight at Viana in Navarre (1507), after a furious resistance; was stripped of his fine armour by men who did not know who he was; and his body was left naked, bloody, and riddled with wounds, on the ground. He was only thirty-one. His father, who was quite as desperate an evil-doer, died in his bed at seventy-two. So history cannot safely draw a moral.

From this digression let us return to mark some of the problems that Machiavelli raises. In one sense, we are shocked by his maxims in proportion to our forgetfulness of history. There have been, it is said, only two perfect princes in the world — Marcus Aurelius and Louis IX. of France. If you add to princes, presidents and prime ministers, the percentage might still be low. Among the canonised saints of the Roman Church, there have only been a dozen kings in eight centuries, and no more than four popes in the same period. So hard has it been ‘to govern the world by paternosters.’ It is well to take care lest in blaming Machiavelli for openly prescribing hypocrisy, men do not slip unperceived into something like hypocrisy of their own.

Take the subordination of religious creed to policy. In the age that immediately followed Machiavelli, three commanding figures stand out, and are cherished in the memories of men — William the Silent, Henry of Navarre, and Elizabeth of England. It needs no peevish or pharisaic memory to trace even in these imposing personages some of the lineaments of Machiavelli’s hated and scandalous picture. William the Silent changed from Lutheran to Catholic, then back to Lutheran, and then from Lutheran to Calvinist. His numerous children were sometimes baptized in one of the three communions, sometimes in the other, just as political convenience served. Henry of Navarre abjured his Huguenot faith, then he returned to it, then he abjured it again. Our great Elizabeth, of famous memory, notoriously walked in tortuous and slippery paths. Again, the most dolorous chapter in all history is that which recounts how men and women were burned, hanged, shot, and tormented for heresy; and there is a considerable body of authors, who through the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries used against heretics Machiavelli’s arguments for making short work with rebels, and asked with logical force why their reason of Church was not as good as his reason of State. In fact, how many of the wars of faith, from Monophysite, Arian, Iconoclast, downwards, have been at bottom far less concerned with opinion than with conflicts of race, nationality, and policy, and have been conducted on maxims of policy?

Frederick the Great is the hero of the most picturesque of modern historians. That strong ruler, as we all know, took it into his head to write a refutation of the Prince. ‘Sir,’ said Voltaire, ‘I believe the very first advice that Machiavelli would have given to a disciple, would have been that he should write a refutation of his book.’ Carlyle contemptuously regrets that his hero should have taken any trouble about the Italian’s ‘perverse little book,’ and its incredible sophistries; pity he was not refuted by a kick from old Frederick William’s jackboot; he deserved no more. Carlyle does not let us forget that nobody so quickly turns cynic as your high-flying transcendentalist, just as nobody takes wickedness so easily as the Antinomian who holds the highest doctrine about the incorruptibility of the spiritual nature. The plain truth is that Frederick, alike on his good side and his bad side, alike as the wise law-maker, the thrifty steward, the capable soldier, and as the robber of Silesia, and a leading accomplice, if not the inspirer, of the partition of Poland, was the aptest of all modern types of the perverse book. It was reserved for this century to see even that type depraved and distorted.

The most imposing of all incarnations of the doctrine that reason of State covers all, is Napoleon. Tacitus, said Napoleon, writes romances, Gibbon is no better than a man of sounding words, Machiavelli is the only one of them worth reading. No wonder that he thought so. All those maxims that have most scandalised mankind in the Italian writer of the sixteenth century, were the daily bread of the Italian soldier who planted his iron heel on the neck of Europe in the nineteenth. Yet Machiavelli at least sets decent limits and conditions: the ruler may under compulsion be driven to set at nought pity, humanity, faith, religion, for the sake of the State, but though he should know how to enter upon evil when compelled, he should never turn from what is good when he can avoid it. Napoleon, a Cæsar Borgia on a giant scale, deliberately called evil good and good evil; and, almost alone among the past masters of all the arts of violence and fraud, he sacrificed pity, humanity, faith, religion, and public law, less for the sake of the State than to satisfy his own ravening egotism and exorbitant passion for personal domination. Napoleon, Charles IX., the Committee of Public Safety, would all have justified themselves by reason of State, and the Bartholomew massacre, the September massacres, and the murder of the Duc d’Enghien, only show what reason of State may come to in any age, in the hands of the practical logician with a knife in his grasp.

Turn from the Absolutist camp to the Republican. Mazzini is in some respects the loftiest moral genius of the century, and he said that though he did not approve the theory of the dagger, nay he deplored it, yet he had not the heart to curse the fact of the dagger. ‘When a man,’ he says, ‘seeks by every possible artifice to betray an old friend to the police of the Foreign Ruler, and then a working man arises and slays the Judas in the broad daylight in the public streets — I have not the courage to cast the first stone at one who thus takes upon himself to represent social justice and the abhorrence of tyranny,’

Even in modern democracy, many a secret spring works under decorous mechanism, and recalls Machiavelli’s precept to keep the name and take away the thing. An eminent man endowed with remarkable compass of mind, not many years ago a professor in this university, imagined a modern writer, with the unflinching perspicacity of Machiavelli, analysing the party leader as the Italian analysed the tyrant or the prince. Such a writer, he said, would find that the party leader, though possessed of every sort of private virtue, yet is debarred by his position from the full practice of the great virtues of veracity, justice, and moral intrepidity; he can seldom tell the full truth; can never be fair to anybody but his followers and his associates; can rarely be bold except in the interests of his faction. The hint is ingenious and it may perhaps be salutary, but one must not overdo it. Party government is not the Reign of the Saints, but we should not be in a hurry to let the misgivings of political valetudinarianism persuade us that there is not at least as good a stock of veracity, justice, and moral intrepidity inside the world of parliaments or congress, as there is in the world without. But these three or four historic instances may serve to illustrate the ἀπορίαι, or awkward points, that Machiavelli’s writings have propounded, for men capable of political reflection, in Europe for many generations past.

If one were to try to put the case for the Machiavellian philosophy in a modern way, it would, I suppose, be something of this kind: — Nature does not work by moral rules. Nature, ‘red in tooth and claw,’ does by system all that good men by system avoid. Is not the whole universe of sentient being haunted all day and all night long by the haggard shapes of Hunger, Cruelty, Force, Fear?

War again is not conducted by moral rules. To declare war is to suspend not merely habeas corpus but the Ten Commandments, and some other good commandments besides. A military manual, by an illustrious hand of our own day, warns us: ‘As a nation we are brought up to feel it a disgrace even to succeed by falsehood. We keep hammering along with the conviction that honesty is the best policy, and that truth always wins in the long run. These sentiments do well for a copy-book, but a man who acts upon them had better sheath his sword for ever.’ One reason among others why we should keep the sword sheathed as long as we can.

Why should the ruler of a State be bound by a moral code from which the soldier is free? Why should not he have the benefit of what has been called the ‘evolutionary beatitude,’ — Blessed are the strong, for they shall prey on the weak? Right and wrong, cause and effect, are two sides of one question. ‘Morality is the nature of things.’ We must include in the computation the whole sum of consequences, and consider acts of State as worked out to their furthest results. Bishop Butler tells you that we cannot give the whole account of any one thing whatever, of all its causes, ends, and necessary adjuncts. In short, means and end are a single transaction. You must regard policy as a whole. The ruler as an individual is, like other men, ‘no more than the generation of leaves, fleeting, a shadow, a dream.’ But the State lives on after he has vanished. He is a trustee for times to come. He is not shaping his own life only, but guiding the long fortunes of a nation. Leaves fall, the tree stands.

Such is the defence of reason of State, of the worship of nation and empire. Everything that policy requires, justice sanctions. There are no crimes in politics, only blunders. ‘The man of action is essentially conscienceless’ (Goethe). ‘Praised be those,’ said one, in words much applauded by Machiavelli, ‘who love their country rather than the safety of their souls.’ ‘Let us be Venetians first,’ said Father Paul, ‘and Christians after.’

We see now the deep questions that lie behind these sophistries, and all the alarming propositions in which they close. Does morality apply only to end and not to means? Is the State means or end? What does it really exist for? For the sake of the individual, his moral and material well-being, or is the individual a mere cog or pinion in the vast machine? How far is it true that citizenship dominates all other relations and duties, and is the most important of them? Are we to test the true civilisation of a State by anything else than the predominance of justice, right, equality, in its laws, its institutions, its relations to neighbours? Is one of the most important aspects of national policy its reaction upon the character of the nation itself, and can States enter on courses of duplicity and selfish violence, without paying the penalty in national demoralisation? What are we to think of such sayings as d’Alembert’s motto for a virtuous man, ‘I prefer my family to myself, my country to my family, and humanity to my country’? Is this the true order? To Machiavelli all these questions would have been futile. Yet the world, in spite of a thousand mischances, and at tortoise-pace, has steadily moved away from him and his Romans.

The modern conception of a State has long made it a moral person, capable of right and wrong, just as are the individuals composing it. Civilisation is taken to advance, exactly in proportion as communities leave behind them the violences of external nature, and of man in a state of war. The usages of war are constantly undergoing mitigation. Diplomacy, though it is said even now not to be wholly purged of lying, fraud, and duplicity, still is conscious of having a character to keep up for truth and plain dealing, so far as circumstances allow. Such conferences, again, as those at Berlin and Brussels in our own day, imperfectly as they have worked, mark the recognition of duty towards inferior races. All these improvements in the character of nations were in the minds of the best men in Machiavelli’s day. Reason of State has always been a plea for impeding and resisting them. Las Casas and other churchmen, Machiavelli’s contemporaries, fought nobly at the Spanish court against the inhuman treatment of Indians in the New World, and they were defeated by arguments which read like maxims from the Prince. Grotius had fore-runners in his powerful contribution towards assuaging the abominations of war, but both letter and spirit in Machiavelli made all the other way. Times have come and gone since Machiavelli wrote down his deep truths, but in the great cycles of human change he can have no place among the strong thinkers, and orators, and writers, who have elevated the conception of the State, and humanised the methods and maxims of government, and raised citizenship to be ‘a partnership in every virtue and in all perfection.’ He turned to the past, just as scholars, architects, sculptors, turned to it, but the idea of reconstructing a society that had once been saturated with the great ruling conceptions of the thirteenth century, by trying to awaken the social energy of ancient Rome, was as much of an anachronism as Julian the Apostate.

Machiavelli has been supposed to put aside the question of right and wrong, just as the political economist or the analytical jurist used to do. Truly has it been said that the practical value of all sciences founded on abstractions, depends on the relative importance of the elements rejected, and the elements retained, in the process of abstraction. The view that he rejected moral elements of government for a scientific purpose and as a hypothetical postulate, seems highly doubtful. Is he not more intelligible, if we take him as following up the divorce of politics from theology, by a divorce from ethics also? He was laying down some maxims of government as an art; the end of that art is the security and permanence of the ruling power; and the fundamental principle from which he silently started, without any doubt or misgiving as to its soundness, was that the application of moral standards to this business, is as little to the point as it would be in the navigation of a ship.

The effect was fatal even for his own purpose, for what he put aside, whether for the sake of argument or because he thought them in substance irrelevant, were nothing less than the living forces by which societies subsist and governments are strong. A remarkable illustration occurred in his own century. Three or four years before all this on secular and ecclesiastical princedoms was written, John Calvin was born (1509). Calvin, with a union of fervid religious instinct and profound political genius, almost unexampled in European history, did in fact what Machiavelli tried to do on paper; he actually created a self-governed state, ruled it, defended it, maintained it, and made that little corner of Europe both the centre of a movement that shook France, England, Scotland, America, for long days to come, and at the same time he set up a bulwark against all the forces of Spanish and Roman reaction, in the pressing struggles of his own immediate day. Florence, Geneva, Holland, hold as high a place as the greatest States of Europe in the development of modern civilisation; but anybody with a turn for ingenious and idle speculation might ask himself whether, if the influence of Florence on European culture had never existed, the loss to mankind would have been as deep as if the little republic of Geneva had been wiped out by the dukes of Savoy. The unarmed prophet, said Machiavelli, thinking of Savonarola, is always sure to be destroyed, and his institutions to come to nought. If Machiavelli had been at Jerusalem two thousand years ago, he would have found nobody of any importance in his eyes, save Pontius Pilate and the Roman legionaries. He forgot the potent arms of moral force, and it was with these that, in the main, Calvin fought his victorious battle. We should not, it is quite true, forget that Calvin never for an instant scrupled to act on some of those very Italian maxims, which have been counted most hateful. He was as ready to resort to carnal weapons as other people. In spite of all the sophistries of sectarian apologists, Calvin’s vindictive persecution of political opponents, and his share in the crime of burning Servetus, can only be justified on principles that are much the same as, and certainly not any better than, those prescribed for the tyrant in the Prince. Still the republic of Geneva was the triumph of moral force.

In Italy Savonarola had attempted a similar achievement. It was the last effort to reconcile the spirit of the new age to the old faith, but Italy was for a second time in her history in the desperate case of being able to endure nec vitia nec remedia, neither ills nor cure. In a curious passage (Disc., iii. l), Machiavelli describes how Dominic and Francis in older days kindled afresh an expiring flame. He may have perceived that for Italy in this direction all was over. But if moral force and spiritual force is exhausted, with what hope are you to look for either good soldiers or good rulers?

The sixteenth century in Italy in some respects resembles the eighteenth in France. In both, old faiths were assailed, and new lamps were kindled. But the eighteenth century was a time of belief in the better elements of mankind. An illusion, you may say. Was it a worse illusion than disbelief in mankind? Machiavelli and his school saw only cunning, jealousy, perfidy, ingratitude, dupery, and yet on such a foundation as this they dreamed that they could build. What idealist or doctrinaire ever fell into a stranger error? Surrounded by the ruins of Italian nationality, says a writer of genius, ‘he organises the abstract theory of the country with all the energy of the Committee of Public Safety, supported on the passion of twenty-five millions of Frenchmen. He carries in him the genius of the Convention. His theories strike like acts’ (Quinet). But energy as an abstract theory is a bubble.

It is true to say that Machiavelli represents certain living forces in our actual world; that Science, with its survival of the fittest, unconsciously lends him illegitimate aid; that ‘he is not a vanishing type, but a constant and contemporary influence’ (Acton). This is because energy, force, will, violence, still keep alive in the world their resistance to the control of justice and conscience, humanity and right. In so far as he represents one side in that eternal struggle, and suggests one set of considerations about about it, he retains a place in the literature of modern political systems and of European morals.

The Delphi Classics Catalogue

We are proud to present a listing of our complete catalogue of English titles, with new titles being added every month.  Buying direct from our website means you can make great savings and take advantage of our instant Updates service.  You can even purchase an entire series (Super Set) at a special discounted price.

Only from our website can readers purchase the special Parts Edition of our Complete Works titles. When you buy a Parts Edition, you will receive a folder of your chosen author’s works, with each novel, play, poetry collection, non-fiction book and more divided into its own special volume. This allows you to read individual novels etc. and to know precisely where you are in an eBook. For more information, please visit our Parts Edition page.

Series Contents

Series One

Anton Chekhov
Charles Dickens
D.H. Lawrence
Dickensiana Volume I
Edgar Allan Poe
Elizabeth Gaskell
Fyodor Dostoyevsky
George Eliot
H. G. Wells
Henry James
Ivan Turgenev
Jack London
James Joyce
Jane Austen
Joseph Conrad
Leo Tolstoy
Louisa May Alcott
Mark Twain
Oscar Wilde
Robert Louis Stevenson
Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
Sir Walter Scott
The Brontës
Thomas Hardy
Virginia Woolf
Wilkie Collins
William Makepeace Thackeray

Series Two

Alexander Pushkin
Alexandre Dumas (English)
Andrew Lang
Anthony Trollope
Bram Stoker
Christopher Marlowe
Daniel Defoe
Edith Wharton
F. Scott Fitzgerald
G. K. Chesterton
Gustave Flaubert (English)
H. Rider Haggard
Herman Melville
Honoré de Balzac (English)
J. W. von Goethe (English)
Jules Verne
L. Frank Baum
Lewis Carroll
Marcel Proust (English)
Nathaniel Hawthorne
Nikolai Gogol
O. Henry
Rudyard Kipling
Tobias Smollett
Victor Hugo
William Shakespeare

Series Three

Ambrose Bierce
Ann Radcliffe
Ben Jonson
Charles Lever
Émile Zola
Ford Madox Ford
Geoffrey Chaucer
George Gissing
George Orwell
Guy de Maupassant
H. P. Lovecraft
Henrik Ibsen
Henry David Thoreau
Henry Fielding
J. M. Barrie
James Fenimore Cooper
John Buchan
John Galsworthy
Jonathan Swift
Kate Chopin
Katherine Mansfield
L. M. Montgomery
Laurence Sterne
Mary Shelley
Sheridan Le Fanu
Washington Irving

Series Four

Arnold Bennett
Arthur Machen
Beatrix Potter
Bret Harte
Captain Frederick Marryat
Charles Kingsley
Charles Reade
G. A. Henty
Edgar Rice Burroughs
Edgar Wallace
E. M. Forster
E. Nesbit
George Meredith
Harriet Beecher Stowe
Jerome K. Jerome
John Ruskin
Maria Edgeworth
M. E. Braddon
Miguel de Cervantes
M. R. James
R. M. Ballantyne
Robert E. Howard
Samuel Johnson
Stendhal
Stephen Crane
Zane Grey

Series Five

Algernon Blackwood
Anatole France
Beaumont and Fletcher
Charles Darwin
Edward Bulwer-Lytton
Edward Gibbon
E. F. Benson
Frances Hodgson Burnett
Friedrich Nietzsche
George Bernard Shaw
George MacDonald
Hilaire Belloc
John Bunyan
John Webster
Margaret Oliphant
Maxim Gorky
Oliver Goldsmith
Radclyffe Hall
Robert W. Chambers
Samuel Butler
Samuel Richardson
Sir Thomas Malory
Thomas Carlyle
William Harrison Ainsworth
William Dean Howells
William Morris

Series Six

Anthony Hope
Aphra Behn
Arthur Morrison
Baroness Emma Orczy
Captain Mayne Reid
Charlotte M. Yonge
Charlotte Perkins Gilman
E. W. Hornung
Ellen Wood
Frances Burney
Frank Norris
Frank R. Stockton
Hall Caine
Horace Walpole
One Thousand and One Nights
R. Austin Freeman
Rafael Sabatini
Saki
Samuel Pepys
Sir Issac Newton
Stanley J. Weyman
Thomas De Quincey
Thomas Middleton
Voltaire
William Hazlitt
William Hope Hodgson

Series Seven

Adam Smith
Benjamin Disraeli
Confucius
David Hume
E. M. Delafield
E. Phillips Oppenheim
Edmund Burke
Ernest Hemingway
Frances Trollope
Galileo Galilei
Guy Boothby
Hans Christian Andersen
Ian Fleming
Immanuel Kant
Karl Marx
Kenneth Grahame
Lytton Strachey
Mary Wollstonecraft
Michel de Montaigne
René Descartes
Richard Marsh
Sax Rohmer
Sir Richard Burton
Talbot Mundy
Thomas Babington Macaulay
W. W. Jacobs

Series Eight

Anna Katharine Green
Arthur Schopenhauer
The Brothers Grimm
C. S. Lewis
Charles and Mary Lamb
Elizabeth von Arnim
Ernest Bramah
Francis Bacon
Gilbert and Sullivan
Grant Allen
Henryk Sienkiewicz
Hugh Walpole
Jean-Jacques Rousseau
John Locke
John Muir
Joseph Addison
Lafcadio Hearn
Lord Dunsany
Marie Corelli
Niccolò Machiavelli
Ouida
Richard Brinsley Sheridan
Sigmund Freud
Theodore Dreiser
Walter Pater
W. Somerset Maugham

Ancient Classics

Achilles Tatius
Aeschylus
Ammianus Marcellinus
Apollodorus
Appian
Apuleius
Apollonius of Rhodes
Aristophanes
Aristotle
Arrian
Augustine
Aulus Gellius
Bede
Cassius Dio
Cato
Catullus
Cicero
Clement of Alexandria
Cornelius Nepos
Demosthenes
Diodorus Siculus
Diogenes Laërtius
Euripides
Frontius
Herodotus
Hesiod
Hippocrates
Homer
Horace
Isocrates
Josephus
Julius Caesar
Juvenal
Livy
Longus
Lucan
Lucian
Lucretius
Marcus Aurelius
Martial
Nonnus
Ovid
Pausanias
Petronius
Pindar
Plato
Plautus
Pliny the Elder
Pliny the Younger
Plotinus
Plutarch
Polybius
Procopius
Propertius
Ptolemy
Quintus Curtius Rufus
Quintus Smyrnaeus
Sallust
Sappho
Seneca the Younger
Septuagint
Sidonius
Sophocles
Statius
Strabo
Suetonius
Tacitus
Terence
Theocritus
Thucydides
Tibullus
Virgil
Xenophon

Delphi Poets Series

A. E. Housman
Alexander Pope
Alfred, Lord Tennyson
Algernon Charles Swinburne
Andrew Marvell
Beowulf
Charlotte Smith
Christina Rossetti
D. H Lawrence (poetry)
Dante Alighieri (English)
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Delphi Poetry Anthology
Edgar Allan Poe (poetry)
Edmund Spenser
Edward Lear
Edward Thomas
Edwin Arlington Robinson
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Emily Dickinson
Ezra Pound
Friedrich Schiller (English)
George Chapman
George Herbert
Gerard Manley Hopkins
Gertrude Stein
Hafez
Heinrich Heine
Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Isaac Rosenberg
James Russell Lowell
Johan Ludvig Runeberg
John Clare
John Donne
John Dryden
John Keats
John Milton
John Wilmot, Earl of Rochester
Joseph Addison
Leigh Hunt
Lord Byron
Ludovico Ariosto
Luís de Camões
Matthew Arnold
Matthew Prior
Michael Drayton
Nikolai Nekrasov
Percy Bysshe Shelley
Petrarch
Ralph Waldo Emerson
Robert Browning
Robert Burns
Robert Frost
Robert Southey
Rumi
Rupert Brooke
Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Sir Philip Sidney
Sir Thomas Wyatt
Sir Walter Raleigh
Thomas Chatterton
Thomas Gray
Thomas Hardy (poetry)
Thomas Hood
Thomas Moore
Torquato Tasso
T. S. Eliot
W. B. Yeats
Walter Savage Landor
Walt Whitman
Wilfred Owen
William Blake
William Cowper
William Wordsworth

Masters of Art

Albrecht Dürer
Amedeo Modigliani
Artemisia Gentileschi
Camille Pissarro
Canaletto
Caravaggio
Caspar David Friedrich
Claude Lorrain
Claude Monet
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Diego Velázquez
Edgar Degas
Édouard Manet
Edvard Munch
Eugène Delacroix
Francisco Goya
Giotto
Giovanni Bellini
Gustave Courbet
Gustav Klimt
J. M. W. Turner
Johannes Vermeer
John Constable
Leonardo da Vinci
Michelangelo
Paul Cézanne
Paul Gauguin
Paul Klee
Peter Paul Rubens
Piero della Francesca
Pierre-Auguste Renoir
Pieter Bruegel the Elder
Sandro Botticelli
Raphael
Rembrandt van Rijn
Thomas Gainsborough
Tintoretto
Titian
Vincent van Gogh
Wassily Kandinsky

Alphabetical List of Titles

A. E. Housman

Achilles Tatius

Adam Smith

Aeschylus

Albrecht Dürer

Alexander Pope

Alexander Pushkin

Alexandre Dumas (English)

Alfred, Lord Tennyson

Algernon Blackwood

Algernon Charles Swinburne

Ambrose Bierce

Amedeo Modigliani

Ammianus Marcellinus

Anatole France

Andrew Lang

Andrew Marvell

Ann Radcliffe

Anna Katharine Green

Anthony Hope

Anthony Trollope

Anton Chekhov

Aphra Behn

Apollodorus

Apollonius of Rhodes

Appian

Apuleius

Aristophanes

Aristotle

Arnold Bennett

Arrian

Artemisia Gentileschi

Arthur Machen

Arthur Morrison

Arthur Schopenhauer

Augustine

Aulus Gellius

Baroness Emma Orczy

Beatrix Potter

Beaumont and Fletcher

Bede

Ben Jonson

Benjamin Disraeli

Beowulf

Bram Stoker

Bret Harte

C. S. Lewis

Camille Pissarro

Canaletto

Captain Frederick Marryat

Captain Mayne Reid

Caravaggio

Caspar David Friedrich

Cassius Dio

Cato

Catullus

Charles and Mary Lamb

Charles Darwin

Charles Dickens

Charles Kingsley

Charles Lever

Charles Reade

Charlotte M. Yonge

Charlotte Perkins Gilman

Charlotte Smith

Christina Rossetti

Christopher Marlowe

Cicero

Claude Lorrain

Claude Monet

Clement of Alexandria

Confucius

Cornelius Nepos

D. H Lawrence (poetry)

D.H. Lawrence

Daniel Defoe

Dante Alighieri (English)

Dante Gabriel Rossetti

Dante Gabriel Rossetti

David Hume

Delphi Poetry Anthology

Demosthenes

Dickensiana Volume I

Diego Velázquez

Diodorus Siculus

Diogenes Laërtius

E. F. Benson

E. M. Delafield

E. M. Forster

E. Nesbit

E. Phillips Oppenheim

E. W. Hornung

Edgar Allan Poe

Edgar Allan Poe (poetry)

Edgar Degas

Edgar Rice Burroughs

Edgar Wallace

Edith Wharton

Edmund Burke

Edmund Spenser

Édouard Manet

Edvard Munch

Edward Bulwer-Lytton

Edward Gibbon

Edward Lear

Edward Thomas

Edwin Arlington Robinson

Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Elizabeth Gaskell

Elizabeth von Arnim

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Ellen Wood

Émile Zola

Emily Dickinson

Ernest Bramah

Ernest Hemingway

Eugène Delacroix

Euripides

Ezra Pound

F. Scott Fitzgerald

Ford Madox Ford

Frances Burney

Frances Hodgson Burnett

Frances Trollope

Francis Bacon

Francisco Goya

Frank Norris

Frank R. Stockton

Friedrich Nietzsche

Friedrich Schiller (English)

Frontius

Fyodor Dostoyevsky

G. A. Henty

G. K. Chesterton

Galileo Galilei

Geoffrey Chaucer

George Bernard Shaw

George Chapman

George Eliot

George Gissing

George Herbert

George MacDonald

George Meredith

George Orwell

Gerard Manley Hopkins

Gertrude Stein

Gilbert and Sullivan

Giotto

Giovanni Bellini

Grant Allen

Gustav Klimt

Gustave Courbet

Gustave Flaubert (English)

Guy Boothby

Guy de Maupassant

H. G. Wells

H. P. Lovecraft

H. Rider Haggard

Hafez

Hall Caine

Hans Christian Andersen

Harriet Beecher Stowe

Heinrich Heine

Henrik Ibsen

Henry David Thoreau

Henry Fielding

Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey

Henry James

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Henryk Sienkiewicz

Herman Melville

Herodotus

Hesiod

Hilaire Belloc

Hippocrates

Homer

Honoré de Balzac (English)

Horace

Horace Walpole

Hugh Walpole

Ian Fleming

Immanuel Kant

Isaac Rosenberg

Isocrates

Ivan Turgenev

J. M. Barrie

J. M. W. Turner

J. W. von Goethe (English)

Jack London

James Fenimore Cooper

James Joyce

James Russell Lowell

Jane Austen

Jean-Jacques Rousseau

Jerome K. Jerome

Johan Ludvig Runeberg

Johannes Vermeer

John Buchan

John Bunyan

John Clare

John Constable

John Donne

John Dryden

John Galsworthy

John Keats

John Locke

John Milton

John Muir

John Ruskin

John Webster

John Wilmot, Earl of Rochester

Jonathan Swift

Joseph Addison

Joseph Addison

Joseph Conrad

Josephus

Jules Verne

Julius Caesar

Juvenal

Karl Marx

Kate Chopin

Katherine Mansfield

Kenneth Grahame

L. Frank Baum

L. M. Montgomery

Lafcadio Hearn

Laurence Sterne

Leigh Hunt

Leo Tolstoy

Leonardo da Vinci

Lewis Carroll

Livy

Longus

Lord Byron

Lord Dunsany

Louisa May Alcott

Lucan

Lucian

Lucretius

Ludovico Ariosto

Luís de Camões

Lytton Strachey

M. E. Braddon

M. R. James

Marcel Proust (English)

Marcus Aurelius

Margaret Oliphant

Maria Edgeworth

Marie Corelli

Mark Twain

Martial

Mary Shelley

Mary Wollstonecraft

Matthew Arnold

Matthew Prior

Maxim Gorky

Michael Drayton

Michel de Montaigne

Michelangelo

Miguel de Cervantes

Nathaniel Hawthorne

Niccolò Machiavelli

Nikolai Gogol

Nikolai Nekrasov

Nonnus

O. Henry

Oliver Goldsmith

One Thousand and One Nights

Oscar Wilde

Ouida

Ovid

Paul Cézanne

Paul Gauguin

Paul Klee

Pausanias

Percy Bysshe Shelley

Peter Paul Rubens

Petrarch

Petronius

Piero della Francesca

Pierre-Auguste Renoir

Pieter Bruegel the Elder

Pindar

Plato

Plautus

Pliny the Elder

Pliny the Younger

Plotinus

Plutarch

Polybius

Procopius

Propertius

Ptolemy

Quintus Curtius Rufus

Quintus Smyrnaeus

R. Austin Freeman

R. M. Ballantyne

Radclyffe Hall

Rafael Sabatini

Ralph Waldo Emerson

Raphael

Rembrandt van Rijn

René Descartes

Richard Brinsley Sheridan

Richard Marsh

Robert Browning

Robert Burns

Robert E. Howard

Robert Frost

Robert Louis Stevenson

Robert Southey

Robert W. Chambers

Rudyard Kipling

Rumi

Rupert Brooke

Saki

Sallust

Samuel Butler

Samuel Johnson

Samuel Pepys

Samuel Richardson

Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Sandro Botticelli

Sappho

Sax Rohmer

Seneca the Younger

Septuagint

Sheridan Le Fanu

Sidonius

Sigmund Freud

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

Sir Issac Newton

Sir Philip Sidney

Sir Richard Burton

Sir Thomas Malory

Sir Thomas Wyatt

Sir Walter Raleigh

Sir Walter Scott

Sophocles

Stanley J. Weyman

Statius

Stendhal

Stephen Crane

Strabo

Suetonius

T. S. Eliot

Tacitus

Talbot Mundy

Terence

The Brontës

The Brothers Grimm

Theocritus

Theodore Dreiser

Thomas Babington Macaulay

Thomas Carlyle

Thomas Chatterton

Thomas De Quincey

Thomas Gainsborough

Thomas Gray

Thomas Hardy

Thomas Hardy (poetry)

Thomas Hood

Thomas Middleton

Thomas Moore

Thucydides

Tibullus

Tintoretto

Titian

Tobias Smollett

Torquato Tasso

Victor Hugo

Vincent van Gogh

Virgil

Virginia Woolf

Voltaire

W. B. Yeats

W. Somerset Maugham

W. W. Jacobs

Walt Whitman

Walter Pater

Walter Savage Landor

Washington Irving

Wassily Kandinsky

Wilfred Owen

Wilkie Collins

William Blake

William Cowper

William Dean Howells

William Harrison Ainsworth

William Hazlitt

William Hope Hodgson

William Makepeace Thackeray

William Morris

William Shakespeare

William Wordsworth

Xenophon

Zane Grey

www.delphiclassics.com

Is there an author or artist you would like to see in a series?  Contact us at sales@delphiclassics.com (or via the social network links below) and let us know!

Be the first to learn of new releases and special offers:

Like us on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/delphiebooks

Follow our Tweets: https://twitter.com/delphiclassics

Explore our exciting boards at Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/delphiclassics/

Santa Croce, Florence — Machiavelli’s final resting place

Machiavelli’s cenotaph in Santa Croce