THE STORY OF ANDREA DORIA

 

FALL OF NWhile the two monarchs seemed so eager to terminate their quarrel by a personal combat, Lautrec continued his operations, which promised to be more decisive. His army, which was now increased to thirty-five thousand men, advanced by great marches towards Naples [Feb.]. The terror of their approach, as well as the remonstrances and the entreaties of the prince of Orange, prevailed at last on the Imperial troops, though with difficulty, to quit Rome of which they had kept possession during ten months. But of that flourishing army which had entered the city, scarcely one half remained; the rest, cut off by the plague, or wasted by diseases, the effects of their inactivity, intemperance, and debauchery, fell victims to their own crimes. Lautrec made the greatest efforts to attack them in their retreat towards the Neapolitan territories, which would have finished the war at one blow. But the prudence of their leaders disappointed all his measures, and conducted them with little loss to Naples.

The people of that kingdom, extremely impatient to shake off the Spanish yoke, received the French with open arms, wherever they appeared to take possession; and, Gaeta and Naples excepted, hardly any place of importance remained in the hands of the Imperialists. The preservation of the former was owing to the strength of its fortifications, that of the latter to the presence of the Imperial army. Lautrec, however, sat down before Naples; but finding it vain to think of reducing a city by force while defended by a whole army, he was obliged to employ the slower, but less dangerous method of blockade; and having taken measures which appeared to him effectual, he confidently assured his master, that famine would soon compel the besieged to capitulate.

These hopes were strongly confirmed by the defeat of a vigorous attempt made by the enemy in order to recover the command of the sea. The galleys of Andrew Doria, under the command of his nephew Philippino, guarded the mouth of the harbor. Moncada, who had succeeded Lannoy in the viceroyalty, rigged out a number of galleys superior to Doria’s, manned them with a chosen body of Spanish veterans, and going on board himself, together with the marquis del Guasto, attacked Philippino before the arrival of the Venetian and French fleets. But the Genoese admiral, by his superior skill in naval operations, easily triumphed over the valor and number of the Spaniards. The viceroy, was killed, most of his fleet destroyed, and Guasto, with many officers of distinction, being taken prisoners, were put on board the captive galleys, and sent by Philippino as trophies of his victory to his uncle.

Notwithstanding this flattering prospect of success, many circumstances concurred to frustrate Lautrec’s expectations.

Clement, though he always acknowledged his being indebted to Francis for the recovery of his liberty, and often complained of the cruel treatment which he had met with from the emperor, was not influenced at this juncture by principles of gratitude, nor, which is more extraordinary, was he swayed by the desire of revenge. His past misfortunes rendered him more cautious than ever, and his recollection of the errors which he had committed, increased the natural irresolution of his mind. While he amused Francis with promises, he secretly negotiated with Charles; and being solicitous, above all things, to reestablish his family in Florence with its ancient authority, which he could not expect from Francis, who had entered into strict alliance with the new republic, he leaned rather to the side of his enemy than to that of his benEfactor, and gave Lautrec no assistance towards carrying on his operations. The Venetians, viewing with jealousy the progress of the French arms, were intent only upon recovering such maritime towns in the Neapolitan dominions as were to be possessed by their republic, while they were altogether careless about the reduction of Naples, on which the success of the common cause depended. The king of England, instead of being able, as had been projected, to embarrass the emperor by attacking his territories in the Low-Countries, found his subjects so averse to an unnecessary war, which would have ruined the trade of the nation, that in order to silence their clamors and put a stop to the insurrections ready to break out among them, he was compelled to conclude a truce for eight months with the governess of the Netherlands. Francis himself, with the same unpardonable inattention of which he had formerly been guilty, and for which he had suffered so severely, neglected to make proper remittances to Lautrec for the support of his army.

These unexpected events retarded the progress of the French, discouraging both the general and his troops; but the revolt of Andrew Doria proved a fatal blow to all their measures. That gallant officer, the citizen of a republic, and trained up from his infancy in the sea service, retained the spirit of independence natural to the former, together with the plain liberal manners peculiar to the latter.

A stranger to the arts of submission and flattery necessary in courts, but conscious at the same time of his own merit and importance, he always offered his advice with freedom, and often preferred his complaints and remonstrances with boldness. The French ministers, unaccustomed to such liberties, determined to ruin a man who treated them with so little deference; and though Francis himself had a just sense of Doria’s services, as well as a high esteem for his character, the courtiers, by continually representing him as a man haughty, untractable, and more solicitous to aggrandize himself, than to promote the interest of France, gradually undermined the foundations of his credit, and filled the king's mind with suspicion and distrust. From thence proceeded several affronts, and indignities put upon Doria. His appointments were not regularly paid; his advice, even in naval affairs, was often slighted; an attempt was made to seize the prisoners taken by his nephew in the sea-fight off Naples; all which he bore with abundance of ill humor. But an injury offered to his country transported him beyond all bounds of patience. The French began to fortify Savona, to clear its harbor, and removing thither some branches of trade carried on at Genoa, plainly showed that they intended to render that town, which had been so long the object of jealousy and hatred to the Genoese, their rival in wealth and commerce. Doria, animated with a patriotic zeal for the honour and interest of his country, remonstrated against this in the highest tone, not without threats, if the measure were not instantly abandoned. This bold action, aggravated by the malice of the courtiers, and placed in the most odious light, irritated Francis to such a degree, that he commanded Barbesieux, whom he appointed admiral of the Levant, to sail directly to Genoa with the French fleet, to arrest Doria, and to seize his galleys. This rash order, the execution of which could have been secured only by the most profound secrecy, was concealed with so little care, that Doria got timely intelligence of it, and retired with all his galleys to a place of safety. Guasto, his prisoner, who had long observed and fomented his growing discontent, and had often allured him by magnificent promises to enter into the emperor's service, laid hold on this favorable opportunity. While his indignation and resentment were at their height, he prevailed on him to dispatch one of his officers to the Imperial court with his overtures and demands. The negotiation was not long; Charles, fully sensible of the importance of such an acquisition, granted him whatever terms he required. Doria sent back his commission, together with the collar of St. Michael, to Francis, and hoisting the Imperial colors, sailed with all his galleys towards Naples, not to block up the harbor of that unhappy city, as he had formerly engaged, but to bring them protection and deliverance.

His arrival opened the communication with the sea, and restored plenty in Naples, which was now reduced to the last extremity; and the French having lost their superiority at sea, were soon reduced to great straits for want of provisions. The prince of Orange, who succeeded the viceroy in the command of the Imperial army, showed himself by his prudent conduct worthy of that honor which his good fortune and the death of his generals had twice acquired him. Beloved by the troops, who, remembering the prosperity which they had enjoyed under his command, served him with the utmost alacrity, he let slip no opportunity of harassing the enemy, and by continual alarms or sallies fatigued and weakened them. As an addition to all these misfortunes, the diseases common in that country during the sultry months, began to break out among the French troops. The prisoners communicated to them the pestilence which the Imperial army had brought to Naples from Rome, and it raged with such violence, that few, either officers or soldiers, escaped the infection. Of the whole army, not four thousand men, a number hardly sufficient to defend the camp, were capable of doing duty; and being now besieged in their turn, they suffered all the miseries from which the Imperialists were delivered. Lautrec, after struggling long with so many disappointments and calamities, which preyed on his mind at the same time that the pestilence wasted his body, died [August 15], lamenting the negligence of his sovereign, and the infidelity of his allies, to which so many brave men had fallen victims. By his death, and the indisposition of the other generals, the command devolved on the marquis de Saluces, an officer altogether unequal to such a trust. He, with troops no less dispirited than reduced, retreated in dis­order to Aversa; which town being invested by the prince of Orange, Saluces was under the necessity of consenting, that he himself should remain a prisoner of war, that his troops should lay down their arms and colors, give up their baggage, and march under a guard to the frontiers of France. By this ignominious capitulation, the wretched remains of the French army were saved; and the emperor, by his own perseverance and the good conduct of his generals, acquired once more the superiority in Italy.

The loss of Genoa followed immediately upon the ruin of the army in Naples. To deliver his country from the dominion of foreigners was Doria’s highest ambition, and had been his principal inducement to quit the service of France, and enter into that of the emperor. A most favorable opportunity for executing this honorable enterprise now presented itself. The city of Genoa, afflicted by the pestilence, was almost deserted by its inhabitants; the French garrison, being neither regularly paid nor recruited, was reduced to an inconsiderable number; Doria’s emissaries found that such of the citizens as remained, being weary alike of the French and Imperial yoke, the rigor of which they had alternately felt, were ready to welcome him as their deliverer, and to second all his measures. Things wearing this promising aspect, he sailed towards the coast of Genoa; on his approach the French galleys retired; a small body of men which he landed surprised one of the gates of Genoa in the nighttime; Trivulci, the French governor, with his feeble garrison, shut himself up in the citadel, and Doria took possession of the town without bloodshed or resistance [September 121]. Want of provisions quickly obliged Trivulci to capitulate; the people, eager to abolish such an odious monument of their servitude, ran together with a tumultuous violence, and leveled the citadel with the ground.

It was now in Doria’s power to have rendered himself the sovereign of his country, which he had so happily delivered from oppression. The fame of his former actions, the success of his present attempt, the attachment of his friends, the gratitude of his countrymen, together with the support of the emperor, all conspired to facilitate his attaining the supreme authority, and invited him to lay hold of it. But with a magnanimity of which there are few examples, he sacrificed all thoughts of aggrandizing himself to the virtuous satisfaction of establishing liberty in his country, the highest object at which ambition can aim. Having assembled the whole body of the people in the court before his palace, he assured them, that the happiness of seeing them once more in possession of freedom was to him a full reward for all his services; that, more delighted with the name of citizen than of sovereign, he claimed no preeminence or power above his equals; but remitted entirely to them the right of settling what form of government they would now choose to be established among them. The people listened to him with tears of admiration and of joy. Twelve persons were elected to new model the constitution of the republic. The influence of Doria’s virtue and example communicated itself to his countrymen; the factions which had long torn and ruined the state seemed to be forgotten; prudent precautions were taken to prevent their reviving, and the same form of government which has subsisted with little variation since that time in Genoa was established with universal applause. Doria lived to a great age, beloved, respected, and honored by his countrymen; and adhering uniformly to his professions of moderation, without arrogating anything unbecoming a private citizen, he preserved a great ascendant over the councils of the republic, which owed its being to his generosity. The authority which he possessed was more flattering, as well as more satisfactory, than that derived from sovereignty; a dominion founded in love and in gratitude; and upheld by veneration for his virtues, not by the dread of his power. His memory is still reverenced by the Genoese, and he is distinguished in their public monuments, and celebrated in the works of their historians, by the most honorable of all appellations, THE FATHER OF HIS COUNTRY, AND THE RESTORER OF ITS LIBERTY.

 

THE PEACE OF THE LADIES