{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_15772/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_15772","id":"gutenberg_15772","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/15772","summary":null,"tags":["Category: History - Early Modern (c. 1450-1750)","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Category: Politics","Florence (Italy) -- History","Military art and science -- Early works to 1800","Political ethics","Political science -- Early works to 1800","War -- Early works to 1800"],"text":"E-text prepared by Ted Garvin, David King, and the Project Gutenberg\nOnline Distributed Proofreading Team\n\n\n\nMACHIAVELLI\n\nWITH AN INTRODUCTION BY\n\nHENRY CUST. M.P.\n\nVOLUME I\n\n\n\nTHE ART OF WAR\n\nTRANSLATED BY\n\nPETER WHITEHORNE\n\n1560\n\n\n\nTHE PRINCE\n\nTRANSLATED BY\n\nEDWARD DACRES\n\n1640\n\n\n\nLONDON\n\nPublished by DAVID NUTT\nat the Sign of the Phoenix\nLONG ACRE\n\n1905\n\nEdinburgh: T. and A. CONSTABLE, Printers to His Majesty\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTO MY FRIEND\nCHARLES WHIBLEY\n\nH.C.\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION\n\n\n[Sidenote: The Life of a Day.]\n\n'I am at my farm; and, since my last misfortunes, have not been in\nFlorence twenty days. I spent September in snaring thrushes; but at the\nend of the month, even this rather tiresome sport failed me. I rise with\nthe sun, and go into a wood of mine that is being cut, where I remain\ntwo hours inspecting the work of the previous day and conversing with\nthe woodcutters, who have always some trouble on hand amongst themselves\nor with their neighbours. When I leave the wood, I go to a spring, and\nthence to the place which I use for snaring birds, with a book under my\narm--Dante or Petrarch, or one of the minor poets, like Tibullus or\nOvid. I read the story of their passions, and let their loves remind me\nof my own, which is a pleasant pastime for a while. Next I take the\nroad, enter the inn door, talk with the passers-by, inquire the news of\nthe neighbourhood, listen to a variety of matters, and make note of the\ndifferent tastes and humours of men.\n\n'This brings me to dinner-time, when I join my family and eat the poor\nproduce of my farm. After dinner I go back to the inn, where I generally\nfind the host and a butcher, a miller, and a pair of bakers. With these\ncompanions I play the fool all day at cards or backgammon: a thousand\nsquabbles, a thousand insults and abusive dialogues take place, while we\nhaggle over a farthing, and shout loud enough to be heard from San\nCasciano.\n\n'But when evening falls I go home and enter my writing-room. On the\nthreshold I put off my country habits, filthy with mud and mire, and\narray myself in royal courtly garments. Thus worthily attired, I make my\nentrance into the ancient courts of the men of old, where they receive\nme with love, and where I feed upon that food which only is my own and\nfor which I was born. I feel no shame in conversing with them and asking\nthem the reason of their actions.\n\n'They, moved by their humanity, make answer. For four hours' space I\nfeel no annoyance, forget all care; poverty cannot frighten, nor death\nappal me. I am carried away to their society. And since Dante says \"that\nthere is no science unless we retain what we have learned\" I have set\ndown what I have gained from their discourse, and composed a treatise,\n_De Principalibus_, in which I enter as deeply as I can into the science\nof the subject, with reasonings on the nature of principality, its\nseveral species, and how they are acquired, how maintained, how lost. If\nyou ever liked any of my scribblings, this ought to suit your taste. To\na prince, and especially to a new prince, it ought to prove acceptable.\nTherefore I am dedicating it to the Magnificence of Giuliano.'\n\n[Sidenote: Niccolo Machiavelli.]\n\nSuch is the account that Niccolo Machiavelli renders of himself when\nafter imprisonment, torture, and disgrace, at the age of forty-four, he\nfirst turned to serious writing. For the first twenty-six or indeed\ntwenty-nine of those years we have not one line from his pen or one word\nof vaguest information about him. Throughout all his works written for\npublication, there is little news about himself. Montaigne could\nproperly write, 'Ainsi, lecteur, je suis moy-mesme la matiere de mon\nlivre.' But the matter of Machiavelli was far other: 'Io ho espresso\nquanto io so, e quanto io ho imparato per una lunga pratica e continua\nlezione delle cose del mondo.'\n\n[Sidenote: The Man.]\n\nMachiavelli was born on the 3rd of May 1469. The period of his life\nalmost exactly coincides with that of Cardinal Wolsey. He came of the\nold and noble Tuscan stock of Montespertoli, who were men of their hands\nin the eleventh century. He carried their coat, but the property had\nbeen wasted and divided. His forefathers had held office of high\ndistinction, but had fallen away as the new wealth of the bankers and\ntraders increased in Florence. He himself inherited a small property in\nSan Casciano and its neighbourhood, which assured him a sufficient, if\nsomewhat lean, independence. Of his education we know little enough. He\nwas well acquainted with Latin, and knew, perhaps, Greek enough to serve\nhis turn. 'Rather not without letters than lettered,' Varchi describes\nhim. That he was not loaded down with learned reading proved probably a\ngreat advantage. The coming of the French, and the expulsion of the\nMedici, the proclamation of the Republic (1494), and later the burning\nof Savonarola convulsed Florence and threw open many public offices. It\nhas been suggested, but without much foundation, that some clerical work\nwas found for Machiavelli in 1494 or even earlier. It is certain that on\nJuly 14, 1498, he was appointed Chancellor and Secretary to the Dieci di\nLiberta e Pace, an office which he held till the close of his political\nlife at fall of the Republic in 1512.\n\n[Sidenote: Official Life.]\n\nThe functions of his Council were extremely varied, and in the hands of\ntheir Secretary became yet more diversified. They represented in some\nsense the Ministry for Home, Military, and especially for Foreign\nAffairs. It is impossible to give any full account of Machiavelli's\nofficial duties. He wrote many thousands of despatches and official\nletters, which are still preserved. He was on constant errands of State\nthrough the Florentine dominions. But his diplomatic missions and what\nhe learned by them make the main interest of his office. His first\nadventure of importance was to the Court of Caterina Sforza, the Lady of\nForli, in which matter that astute Countess entirely bested the teacher\nof all diplomatists to be. In 1500 he smelt powder at the siege at Pisa,\nand was sent to France to allay the irritations of Louis XII. Many\nsimilar and lesser missions follow. The results are in no case of great\nimportance, but the opportunities to the Secretary of learning men and\nthings, intrigue and policy, the Court and the gutter were invaluable.\nAt the camp of Caesar Borgia, in 1502, he found in his host that\nfantastic hero whom he incarnated in _The Prince_, and he was\npractically an eye-witness of the amazing masterpiece, the Massacre of\nSinigaglia. The next year he is sent to Rome with a watching brief at\nthe election of Julius II., and in 1506 is again sent to negotiate with\nthe Pope. An embassy to the Emperor Maximilian, a second mission to the\nFrench King at Blois, in which he persuades Louis XII. to postpone the\nthreatened General Council of the Church (1511), and constant\nexpeditions to report upon and set in order unrestful towns and\nprovinces did not fulfil his activity. His pen was never idle. Reports,\ndespatches, elaborate monographs on France, Germany, or wherever he\nmight be, and personal letters innumerable, and even yet unpublished,\nceased not night nor day. Detail, wit, character-drawing, satire,\nsorrow, bitterness, all take their turn. But this was only a fraction of\nhis work. By duty and by expediency he was bound to follow closely the\ninternal politics of Florence where his enemies and rivals abounded. And\nin all these years he was pushing forward and carrying through with\nunceasing and unspeakable vigour the great military dream of his life,\nthe foundation of a National Militia and the extinction of Mercenary\nCompanies. But the fabric he had fancied and thought to have built\nproved unsubstantial. The spoilt half-mutinous levies whom he had spent\nyears in odious and unwilling training failed him at the crowning moment\nin strength and spirit: and the fall of the Republic implied the fall of\nMachiavelli and the close of his official life. He struggled hard to\nsave himself, but the wealthy classes were against him, perhaps afraid\nof him, and on them the Medici relied. For a year he was forbidden to\nleave Florentine territory, and for a while was excluded from the\nPalazzo. Later his name was found in a list of Anti-Medicean\nconspirators. He was arrested and decorously tortured with six turns of\nthe rack, and then liberated for want of evidence.\n\n[Sidenote: After his Fall.]\n\nFor perhaps a year after his release the Secretary engaged in a series\nof tortuous intrigues to gain the favour of the Medici. Many of the\nstories may be exaggerated, but none make pleasant reading, and nothing\nproved successful. His position was miserable. Temporarily crippled by\ntorture, out of favour with the Government, shunned by his friends, in\ndeep poverty, burdened with debt and with a wife and four children, his\nmaterial circumstances were ill enough. But, worse still, he was idle.\nHe had deserved well of the Republic, and had never despaired of it, and\nthis was his reward. He seemed to himself a broken man. He had no great\nnatural dignity, no great moral strength. He profoundly loved and\nadmired Dante, but he could not for one moment imitate him. He sought\nsatisfaction in sensuality of life and writing, but found no comfort.\nGreat things were stirring in the world and he had neither part nor lot\nin them. By great good fortune he began a correspondence with his friend\nFrancesco Vettori, the Medicean Ambassador at Rome, to whom he appeals\nfor his good offices: 'And if nothing can be done, I must live as I came\ninto the world, for I was born poor and learnt to want before learning\nto enjoy.' Before long these two diplomats had co-opted themselves into\na kind of Secret Cabinet of Europe. It is a strange but profoundly\ninteresting correspondence, both politically and personally. Nothing is\ntoo great or too small, too glorious or too mean for their pens. Amid\nfoolish anecdotes and rather sordid love affairs the politics of Europe,\nand especially of Italy, are dissected and discussed. Leo X. had now\nplunged into political intrigue. Ferdinand of Spain was in difficulty.\nFrance had allied herself with Venice. The Swiss are the Ancient Romans,\nand may conquer Italy. Then back again, or rather constant throughout,\nthe love intrigues and the 'likely wench hard-by who may help to pass\nour time.' But through it all there is an ache at Machiavelli's heart,\nand on a sudden he will break down, crying,\n\n  Pero se aleuna volta io rido e canto\n  Facciol, perche non ho se non quest' una\n  Via da sfogare il mio angoscioso pianto.\n\nVettori promised much, but nothing came of it. By 1515 the\ncorrespondence died away, and the Ex-Secretary found for himself at last\nthe true pathway through his vale of years.\n\n[Sidenote: The true Life.]\n\nThe remainder of Machiavelli's life is bounded by his books. He settled\nat his villa at San Casciano, where he spent his day as he describes in\nthe letter quoted at the beginning of this essay. In 1518 he began to\nattend the meetings of the Literary Club in the Orti Oricellarii, and\nmade new and remarkable friends. 'Era amato grandamente da loro ... e\ndella sua conversazione si dilettavano maravigliosamente, tenendo in\nprezzo grandissimo tutte l'opere sue,' which shows the personal\nauthority he exercised. Occasionally he was employed by Florentine\nmerchants to negotiate for them at Venice, Genoa, Lucca, and other\nplaces. In 1519 Cardinal Medici deigned to consult him as to the\nGovernment, and commissioned him to write the History of Florence. But\nin the main he wrote his books and lived the daily life we know. In 1525\nhe went to Rome to present his History to Clement VII., and was sent on\nto Guicciardini. In 1526 he was busy once more with military matters and\nthe fortification of Florence. On the 22nd of June 1527 he died at\nFlorence immediately after the establishment of the second Republic. He\nhad lived as a practising Christian, and so died, surrounded by his wife\nand family. Wild legends grew about his death, but have no foundation. A\npeasant clod in San Casciano could not have made a simpler end. He was\nburied in the family Chapel in Santa Croce, and a monument was there at\nlast erected with the epitaph by Doctor Ferroni--'Tanto nomini nullum\npar elogium.' The first edition of his complete works was published in\n1782, and was dedicated to Lord Cowper.\n\n[Sidenote: His Character.]\n\nWhat manner of man was Machiavelli at home and in the market-place? It\nis hard to say. There are doubtful busts, the best, perhaps, that\nengraved in the 'Testina' edition of 1550, so-called on account of the\nportrait. 'Of middle height, slender figure, with sparkling eyes, dark\nhair, rather a small head, a slightly aquiline nose, a tightly closed\nmouth: all about him bore the impress of a very acute observer and\nthinker, but not that of one able to wield much influence over others.'\nSuch is a reconstruction of him by one best able to make one. 'In his\nconversation,' says Varchi, 'Machiavelli was pleasant, serviceable to\nhis friends, a friend of virtuous men, and, in a word, worthy to have\nreceived from Nature either less genius or a better mind.' If not much\nabove the moral standard of the day he was certainly not below it. His\nhabits were loose and his language lucid and licentious. But there is no\nbad or even unkind act charged against him. To his honesty and good\nfaith he very fairly claims that his poverty bears witness. He was a\nkind, if uncertain, husband and a devoted father. His letters to his\nchildren are charming. Here is one written soon before his death to his\nlittle son Guido.--'Guido, my darling son, I received a letter of thine\nand was delighted with it, particularly because you tell me of your full\nrecovery, the best news I could have. If God grants life to us both I\nexpect to make a good man of you, only you must do your fair share\nyourself.' Guido is to stick to his books and music, and if the family\nmule is too fractious, 'Unbridle him, take off the halter and turn him\nloose at Montepulciano. The farm is large, the mule is small, so no harm\ncan come of it. Tell your mother, with my love, not to be nervous. I\nshall surely be home before any trouble comes. Give a kiss to Baccina,\nPiero, and Totto: I wish I knew his eyes were getting well. Be happy and\nspend as little as you may. Christ have you in his keeping.'--There is\nnothing exquisite or divinely delicate in this letter, but there are\nmany such, and they were not written by a bad man, any more than the\nanswers they evoke were addressed to one. There is little more save of a\nlike character that is known of Machiavelli the man. But to judge him\nand his work we must have some knowledge of the world in which he was to\nmove and have his being.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n[Sidenote: State of Italy.]\n\nAt the beginning of the sixteenth century Italy was rotten to the core.\nIn the close competition of great wickedness the Vicar of Christ easily\ncarried off the palm, and the Court of Alexander VI. was probably the\nwickedest meeting-place of men that has ever existed upon earth. No\nvirtue, Christian or Pagan, was there to be found; little art that was\nnot sensuous or sensual. It seemed as if Bacchus and Venus and Priapus\nhad come to their own again, and yet Rome had not ceased to call herself\nChristian.\n\n[Sidenote: Superstition.]\n\n'Owing to the evil ensample of the Papal Court,' writes Machiavelli,\n'Italy has lost all piety and all religion: whence follow infinite\ntroubles and disorders; for as religion implies all good, so its absence\nimplies the contrary. To the Church and priests of Rome we owe another\neven greater disaster which is the cause of her ruin. I mean that the\nChurch has maintained, and still maintains Italy divided.' The Papacy is\ntoo weak to unite and rule, but strong enough to prevent others doing\nso, and is always ready to call in the foreigner to crush all Italians\nto the foreigner's profit, and Guicciardini, a high Papal officer,\ncommenting on this, adds, 'It would be impossible to speak so ill of the\nRoman Court, but that more abuse should not be merited, seeing it is an\ninfamy, and example of all the shames and scandals of the world.' The\nlesser clergy, the monks, the nuns followed, with anxious fidelity, the\nfootsteps of their shepherds. There was hardly a tonsure in Italy which\ncovered more than thoughts and hopes of lust and avarice. Religion and\nmorals which God had joined together, were set by man a thousand leagues\nasunder. Yet religion still sat upon the alabaster throne of Peter, and\nin the filthy straw of the meanest Calabrian confessional. And still\ndeeper remained a blind devoted superstition. Vitellozzo Vitelli, as\nMachiavelli tells us, while being strangled by Caeesar Borgia's assassin,\nimplored his murderer to procure for him the absolution of that\nmurderer's father. Gianpaolo Baglioni, who reigned by parricide and\nlived in incest, was severely blamed by the Florentines for not killing\nPope Julius II. when the latter was his guest at Perugia. And when\nGabrino Fondato, the tyrant of Cremona, was on the scaffold, his only\nregret was that when he had taken his guests, the Pope and Emperor, to\nthe top of the Cremona tower, four hundred feet high, his nerve failed\nhim and he did not push them both over. Upon this anarchy of religion,\nmorals, and conduct breathed suddenly the inspiring breath of Pagan\nantiquity which seemed to the Italian mind to find its finest climax in\ntyrannicide. There is no better instance than in the plot of the Pazzi\nat Florence. Francesco Pazzi and Bernardo Bandini decided to kill\nLorenzo and Giuliano de' Medici in the cathedral at the moment of the\nelevation of the Host. They naturally took the priest into their\nconfidence. They escorted Giuliano to the Duomo, laughing and talking,\nand playfully embraced him--to discover if he wore armour under his\nclothes. Then they killed him at the moment appointed.\n\n[Sidenote: Pagan influence.]\n\nNor were there any hills from which salvation might be looked for.\nPhilosophy, poetry, science, expressed themselves in terms of\nmaterialism. Faith and hope are ever the last survivors in the life of a\nman or of a nation. But in Italy these brave comforters were at their\nlatest breath. It is perhaps unfair to accept in full the judgment of\nNorthern travellers. The conditions, training, needs of England and\nGermany were different. In these countries courage was a necessity, and\ngood faith a paying policy. Subtlety could do little against a\ntwo-handed sword in the hands of an angry or partially intoxicated\ngiant. Climate played its part as well as culture, and the crude\npleasures and vices of the North seemed fully as loathsome to the\nrefined Italian as did the tortuous policy and the elaborate infamies of\nthe South to their rough invaders. Alone, perhaps, among the nations of\nEurope the Italians had never understood or practised chivalry, save in\nsuch select and exotic schools as the Casa Gioiosa under Vittorino da\nFeltre at Mantua. The oath of Arthur's knights would have seemed to them\nmere superfluity of silliness. _Onore_ connoted credit, reputation, and\nprowess. _Virtu_, which may be roughly translated as mental ability\ncombined with personal daring, set the standard and ruled opinion.\n'Honour in the North was subjective: _Onore_ in Italy objective.'\nIndividual liberty, indeed, was granted in full to all, at the\nindividual's risk. The love of beauty curbed grossness and added\ndistinction. Fraud became an art and force a science. There is liberty\nfor all, but for the great ones there is licence. And when the day of\ntrial comes, it is the Churchmen and the Princes who can save neither\nthemselves nor man, nor thing that is theirs. To such a world was\nMachiavelli born. To whom should he turn? To the People? To the Church?\nTo the Princes and Despots? But hear him:--\n\n    'There shall never be found any good mason, which will beleeve\n    to be able to make a faire image of a peece of marble ill hewed,\n    but verye well of a rude peece. Our Italian Princes beleeved,\n    before they tasted the blowes of the outlandish warre, that it\n    should suffice a Prince to know by writinges, how to make a\n    subtell aunswere, to write a goodly letter, to shewe in\n    sayinges, and in woordes, witte and promptenesse, to know how to\n    canvas a fraude, to decke themselves with precious stones and\n    gold, to sleepe and to eate with greater glory then other: To\n    kepe many lascivious persons about them, to governe themselves\n    with their subjects, covetously and proudely: To roote in\n    idlenes, to give the degrees of the exercise of warre for good\n    will, to dispise if any should have shewed them any laudable\n    waie, minding that their wordes should bee aunswers of oracles:\n    nor the sely wretches were not aware that they prepared\n    themselves to be a pray to whome so ever should assaulte them.\n    Hereby grew then in the thousand fowre hundred and nintie and\n    fowre yere, the great feares, the sodaine flightes and the\n    marveilous losses: and so three most mighty states which were in\n    Italie, have bene dievers times sacked and destroyed. But that\n    which is worse, is where those that remaine, continue in the\n    very same errour, and liev in the verie same disorder and\n    consider not, that those who in olde time would keepe their\n    states, caused to be done these thinges, which of me hath beene\n    reasoned, and that their studies were, to prepare the body to\n    diseases, and the minde not to feare perills. Whereby grewe that\n    Caesar, Alexander, and all those men and excellent Princes in\n    olde time, were the formost amongst the fighters, going armed on\n    foote: and if they lost their state, they would loose their\n    life, so that they lievd and died vertuously.'\n\nSuch was the clay that waited the moulding of the potter's hand.\n'Posterity, that high court of appeal, which is never tired of\neulogising its own justice and discernment,' has recorded harsh sentence\non the Florentine. It is better to-day to let him speak for himself.\n\n[Sidenote: _The Prince_.]\n\nThe slender volume of _The Prince_ has probably produced wider\ndiscussion, more bitter controversy, more varied interpretations and a\ndeeper influence than any book save Holy Writ. Kings and statesmen,\nphilosophers and theologians, monarchists and republicans have all and\nalways used or abused it for their purposes. Written in 1513, the first\nyear of Machiavelli's disgrace, concurrently with part of the\n_Discorsi_, which contain the germs of it, the book represents the\nfulness of its author's thought and experience. It was not till after\nMachiavelli's death, that it was published in 1532, by order of Clement\nVII. Meanwhile, however, in manuscript it had been widely read and\nfavourably received.\n\n[Sidenote: Its purpose.]\n\nThe mere motive of its creation and dedication has been the theme of\nmany volumes. Machiavelli was poor, was idle, was out of favour, and\ntherefore, though a Republican, wrote a devilish hand-book of tyranny to\nstrengthen the Medici and recover his position. Machiavelli, a loyal\nRepublican, wrote a primer of such fiendish principles as might lure the\nMedici to their ruin. Machiavelli's one idea was to ruin the rich:\nMachiavelli's one idea was to oppress the poor: he was a Protestant, a\nJesuit, an Atheist: a Royalist and a Republican. And the book published\nby one Pope's express authority was utterly condemned and forbidden,\nwith all its author's works, by the express command of another (1559).\nBut before facing the whirlwind of savage controversy which raged and\nrages still about _The Prince_, it may be well to consider shortly the\nbook itself--consider it as a new book and without prejudice. The\npurpose of its composition is almost certainly to be found in the plain\nfact that Machiavelli, a politician and a man of letters, wished to\nwrite a book upon the subject which had been his special study and lay\nnearest to his business and bosom. To ensure prominence for such a book,\nto engage attention and incidentally perhaps to obtain political\nemployment for himself, he dedicated it to Lorenzo de' Medici, the\nexisting and accepted Chief of the State. But far and above such lighter\nmotives stood the fact that he saw in Lorenzo the only man who might\nconceivably bring to being the vast dream of patriotism which the writer\nhad imagined. The subject he proposed to himself was largely, though not\nwholly, conditioned by the time and place in which he lived. He wrote\nfor his countrymen and he wrote for his own generation. He had heard\nwith his ears and seen with his eyes the alternate rending anarchy and\nmoaning paralysis of Italy. He had seen what Agricola had long before\nbeen spared the sight of. And what he saw, he saw not through a glass\ndarkly or distorted, but in the whitest, driest light, without flinching\nand face to face. 'We are much beholden,' writes Bacon, 'to Machiavelli\nand others that wrote what men do, and not what they ought to do.' He\ndid not despair of Italy, he did not despair even of Italian unity. But\nhe despaired of what he saw around him, and he was willing at almost any\nprice to end it. He recognised, despite the nominal example of Venice,\nthat a Republican system was impossible, and that the small\nPrincipalities and Free Cities were corrupt beyond hope of healing. A\nstrong central unifying government was imperative, and at that day such\ngovernment could only be vested in a single man. For it must ever be\nclosely remembered, as will be pointed out again, that throughout the\nbook the Prince is what would now be called the Government. And then he\nsaw with faithful prophecy, in the splendid peroration of his hope, a\nhope deferred for near four hundred years, he saw beyond the painful\npaths of blood and tyranny, a vision of deliverance and union. For at\nleast it is plain that in all things Machiavelli was a passionate\npatriot, and _Amo la patria mia piu dell' anima_ is found in one of the\nlast of many thousand letters that his untiring pen had written.\n\nThe purpose, then, of _The Prince_ is to lay down rules, within the\npossibilities of the time, for the making of a man who shall create,\nincrease, and maintain a strong and stable government. This is done in\nthe main by a plain presentation of facts, a presentation condensed and\ncritical but based on men and things as they actually were. The ethical\nside is wholly omitted: the social and economical almost entirely. The\naspect is purely political, with the underlying thought, it may be\nsupposed, that under the postulated government, all else will prosper.\n\n[Sidenote: The Book; New States.]\n\nMachiavelli opens by discussing the various forms of governments, which\nhe divides into Republics and Principalities. Of the latter some may be\nhereditary and some acquired. Of hereditary states he says little and\nquotes but one, the Duchy of Ferrara. He then turns to his true subject,\nthe acquisition and preservation of States wholly new or new in part,\nStates such as he saw himself on every side around him. Having gained\npossession of a new State, he says, you must first extirpate the family\nof your predecessor. You should then either reside or plant colonies,\nbut not trust to garrisons. 'Colonies are not costly to the Prince, are\nmore faithful and cause less offence to the subject States: those whom\nthey may injure being poor and scattered, are prevented from doing\nmischief. For it should be observed that men ought either to be caressed\nor trampled out, seeing that small injuries may be avenged, whereas\ngreat ones destroy the possibility of retaliation: and so the damage\nthat has to be inflicted ought to be such that it need involve no fear\nof reprisals.' There is perhaps in all Machiavelli no better example of\nhis lucid scientific method than this passage. There is neither excuse\nnor hypocrisy. It is merely a matter of business calculation. Mankind is\nthe raw material, the State is the finished work. Further you are to\nconciliate your neighbours who are weak and abase the strong, and you\nmust not let the stranger within your gates. Above all look before as\nwell as after and think not to leave it to time, _godere li benefici del\ntempo_, but, as did the Romans, strike and strike at once. For\nillustration he criticises, in a final and damning analysis, the career\nof Louis XII. in Italy. There was no canon of statecraft so absolute\nthat the King did not ignore it, and in inevitable Nemesis, there was no\nultimate disaster so crowning as not to be achieved.\n\n[Sidenote: Conquests.]\n\nAfter observing that a feudal monarchy is much less easy of conquest\nthan a despotism, since in the one case you must vanquish many lesser\nlordships while in the other you merely replace slaves by slaves,\nMachiavelli considers the best method of subjugating Free Cities. Here\nagain is eminent the terrible composure and the exact truth of his\npolitics. A conquered Free City you may of course rule in person, or you\nmay construct an oligarchy to govern for you, but the only safe way is\nto destroy it utterly, since 'that name of Liberty, those ancient usages\nof Freedom,' are things 'which no length of years and no benefits can\nextinguish in the nation's mind, things which no pains or forethought\ncan uproot unless the citizens be utterly destroyed.'\n\nHitherto the discussion has ranged round the material politics of the\nmatter, the acquisition of material power. Machiavelli now turns to the\nheart of his matter, the proper character and conduct of a new Prince in\na new Principality and the ways by which he shall deal most fortunately\nwith friend and foe. For fortune it is, as well as ability, which go to\nthe making of the man and the maintenance of his power.\n\n[Sidenote: Caesar Borgia.]\n\nIn the manner of the day Moses, Cyrus, Romulus, and Theseus are led\nacross the stage in illustration. The common attribute of all such\nfortunate masters of men was force of arms, while the mission of an\nunarmed prophet such as Savonarola was foredoomed to failure. In such\npolitics Machiavelli is positive and ruthless: force is and must be the\nremedy and the last appeal, a principle which indeed no later generation\nhas in practice set at naught. But in the hard dry eyes of the\nFlorentine Secretary stood, above all others, one shining figure, a\nfigure to all other eyes, from then till now, wrapped in mysterious and\nmiasmatic cloud. In the pages of common history he was a tyrant, he was\nvicious beyond compare, he was cruel beyond the Inquisition, he was\nfalse beyond the Father of Lies, he was the Antichrist of Rome and he\nwas a failure: but he was the hero of Niccolo Machiavelli, who, indeed,\nfound in Caesar Borgia the fine flower of Italian politics in the Age of\nthe Despots. Son of the Pope, a Prince of the Church, a Duke of France,\na master of events, a born soldier, diplomatist, and more than half a\nstatesman, Caesar seemed indeed the darling of gods and men whom original\nfortune had crowned with inborn ability. Machiavelli knew him as well as\nit was possible to know a soul so tortuous and secret, and he had been\npresent at the most critical and terrible moments of Caesar's life. That\nin despite of a life which the world calls infamous, in despite of the\nhowling execrations of all Christendom, in despite of ultimate and\nentire failures, Machiavelli could still write years after, 'I know not\nwhat lessons I could teach a new Prince more useful than the example of\nhis actions,' exhibits the ineffaceable impressions that Caesar Borgia\nhad made upon the most subtle and observant mind of modern history.\n\n[Sidenote: Caesar's Career.]\n\nCaesar was the acknowledged son of Pope Alexander by his acknowledged\nmistress Vannozza dei Cattani. Born in 1472, he was an Archbishop and a\nCardinal at sixteen, and the murderer of his elder brother at an age\nwhen modern youths are at college. He played his part to the full in the\nunspeakable scandals of the Vatican, but already 'he spoke little and\npeople feared him.' Ere long the splendours of the Papacy seemed too\nremote and uncertain for his fierce ambition, and, indeed, through his\nfather, he already wielded both the temporal and the spiritual arms of\nPeter. To the subtlety of the Italian his Spanish blood had lent a\ncertain stern resolution, and as with Julius and Sulla the lust for\nsloth and sensuality were quickened by the lust for sway. He unfrocked\nhimself with pleasure. He commenced politician, soldier, and despot. And\nfor the five years preceding Alexander's death he may almost be looked\nupon as a power in Europe. Invested Duke of Romagna, that hot-bed of\npetty tyranny and tumult, he repressed disorder through his governor\nMesser Ramiro with a relentless hand. When order reigned, Machiavelli\ntells us he walked out one morning into the market-place at Cesena and\nsaw the body of Ramiro, who had borne the odium of reform, lying in two\npieces with his head on a lance, and a bloody axe by his side. Caesar\nreaped the harvest of Ramiro's severity, and the people recognising his\nbenevolence and justice were 'astounded and satisfied.'\n\nBut the gaze of the Borgia was not bounded by the strait limits of a\nmere Italian Duchy. Whether indeed there mingled with personal ambition\nan ideal of a united Italy, swept clean of the barbarians, it is hard to\nsay, though Machiavelli would have us believe it. What is certain is\nthat he desired the supreme dominion in Italy for himself, and to win it\nspared neither force nor fraud nor the help of the very barbarians\nthemselves. With a decree of divorce and a Cardinal's hat he gained the\nsupport of France, the French Duchy of Valentinois, and the sister of\nthe King of Navarre to wife. By largesse of bribery and hollow promises\nhe brought to his side the great families of Rome, his natural enemies,\nand the great Condottieri with their men-at-arms. When by their aid he\nhad established and extended his government he mistrusted their good\nfaith. With an infinity of fascination and cunning, without haste and\nwithout rest, he lured these leaders, almost more cunning than himself,\nto visit him as friends in his fortress of Sinigaglia. 'I doubt if they\nwill be alive to-morrow morning,' wrote Machiavelli, who was on the\nspot. He was right. Caesar caused them to be strangled the same night,\nwhile his father dealt equal measure to their colleagues and adherents\nin Rome. Thenceforth, distrusting mercenaries, he found and disciplined\nout of a mere rabble, a devoted army of his own, and having\nunobtrusively but completely extirpated the whole families of those\nwhose thrones he had usurped, not only the present but the future seemed\nassured to him.\n\nHe had fulfilled the first of Machiavelli's four conditions. He rapidly\nachieved the remaining three. He bought the Roman nobles so as to be\nable to put a bridle in the new 'Pope's mouth.' He bought or poisoned or\npacked or terrorised the existing College of Cardinals and selected new\nPrinces of the Church who should accept a Pontiff of his choosing. He\nwas effectively strong enough to resist the first onset upon him at his\nfather's death. Five years had been enough for so great an undertaking.\nOne thing alone he had not and indeed could not have foreseen. 'He told\nme himself on the day on which (Pope) Julius was created, that he had\nforeseen and provided for everything else that could happen on his\nfather's death, but had never anticipated that, when his father died, he\ntoo should have been at death's door.' Even so the fame and splendour of\nhis name for a while maintained his authority against his unnumbered\nenemies. But soon the great betrayer was betrayed. 'It is well to cheat\nthose who have been masters of treachery,' he had said himself in his\nhours of brief authority. His wheel had turned full cycle. Within three\nyears his fate, like that of Charles XII., was destined to a foreign\nstrand, a petty fortress, and a dubious hand. Given over to Spain he\npassed three years obscurely. 'He was struck down in a fight at Viana in\nNavarre (1507) after a furious resistance: he was stripped of his fine\narmour by men who did not know his name or quality and his body was left\nnaked on the bare ground, bloody and riddled with wounds. He was only\nthirty-one.' And so the star of Machiavelli's hopes and dreams was\nquenched for a season in the clouds from which it came.\n\n[Sidenote: The Lesson.]\n\nIt seems worth while to sketch the strange tempestuous career of Caesar\nBorgia because in the remaining chapters of _The Prince_ and elsewhere\nin his writings, it is the thought and memory of Valentinois, transmuted\ndoubtless and idealised by the lapse of years, that largely inform and\ninspire the perfect Prince of Machiavelli. But it must not be supposed\nthat in life or in mind they were intimate or even sympathetic.\nMachiavelli criticises his hero liberally and even harshly. But for the\nwork he wanted done he had found no better craftsman and no better\nexample to follow for those that might come after. Morals and religion\ndid not touch the purpose of his arguments except as affecting policy.\nIn policy virtues may be admitted as useful agents and in the chapter\nfollowing that on Caesar, entitled, curiously enough, 'Of those who by\ntheir crimes come to be Princes,' he lays down that 'to slaughter fellow\ncitizens, to betray friends, to be devoid of honour, pity and religion\ncannot be counted as merits, for these are means which may lead to power\nbut which confer no glory.' Cruelty he would employ without hesitation\nbut with the greatest care both in degree and in kind. It should be\nimmediate and complete and leave no possibility of counter-revenge. For\nit is never forgotten by the living, and 'he deceives himself who\nbelieves that, with the great, recent benefits cause old wrongs to be\nforgotten.' On the other hand 'Benefits should be conferred little by\nlittle so that they may be more fully relished.' The cruelty proper to a\nPrince (Government, for as ever they are identical) aims only at\nauthority. Now authority must spring from love or fear. It were best to\ncombine both motives to obedience but you cannot. The Prince must\nremember that men are fickle, and love at their own pleasure, and that\nmen are fearful and fear at the pleasure of the Prince. Let him\ntherefore depend on what is of himself, not on that which is of others.\n'Yet if he win not love he may escape hate, and so it will be if he does\nnot meddle with the property or women-folk of his subjects.' When he\nmust punish let him kill. 'For men will sooner forget the death of their\nfather than the loss of their estate.' And moreover you cannot always go\non killing, but a Prince who has once set himself to plundering will\nnever stop. This is the more needful because the only secure foundation\nof his rule lies in his trust of the people and in their support. And\nindeed again and again you shall find no more thorough democrat than\nthis teacher of tyrants. 'The people own better broader qualities,\nfidelities and passions than any Prince and have better cause to show\nfor them.' 'As for prudence and stability, I say that a people is more\nstable, more prudent, and of better judgment than a Prince.' If the\npeople go wrong it is almost certainly the crime or negligence of the\nPrince which drives or leads them astray. 'Better far than any number of\nfortresses is not to be hated by your people.' The support of the people\nand a national militia make the essential strength of the Prince and of\nthe State.\n\n[Sidenote: National Defence.]\n\nThe chapters on military organisation may be more conveniently\nconsidered in conjunction with _The Art of War_. It is enough at present\nto point out two or three observations of Machiavelli which touch\npolitics from the military side. To his generation they were entirely\nnovel, though mere commonplace to-day. National strength means national\nstability and national greatness; and this can be achieved, and can only\nbe achieved, by a national army. The Condottiere system, born of sloth\nand luxury, has proved its rottenness. Your hired general is either a\ntyrant or a traitor, a bully or a coward. 'In a word the armour of\nothers is too wide or too strait for us: it falls off us, or it weighs\nus down.' And in a fine illustration he compares auxiliary troops to the\narmour of Saul which David refused, preferring to fight Goliath with his\nsling and stone.\n\n[Sidenote: Conduct of the Prince.]\n\nHaving assured the external security of the State, Machiavelli turns\nonce more to the qualities and conduct of the Prince. So closely packed\nare these concluding chapters that it is almost impossible to compress\nthem further. The author at the outset states his purpose: 'Since it is\nmy object to write what shall be useful to whosoever understands it, it\nseems to me better to follow the practical truth of things rather than\nan imaginary view of them. For many Republics and Princedoms have been\nimagined that were never seen or known to exist in reality. And the\nmanner in which we live and in which we ought to live, are things so\nwide asunder that he who suits the one to betake himself to the other is\nmore likely to destroy than to save himself.' Nothing that Machiavelli\nwrote is more sincere, analytic, positive and ruthless. He operates\nunflinchingly on an assured diagnosis. The hand never an instant\nfalters, the knife is never blunt. He deals with what is, and not with\nwhat ought to be. Should the Prince be all-virtuous, all-liberal,\nall-humane? Should his word be his bond for ever? Should true religion\nbe the master-passion of his life? Machiavelli considers. The first duty\nof the Prince (or Government) is to maintain the existence, stability,\nand prosperity of the State. Now if all the world were perfect so should\nthe Prince be perfect too. But such are not the conditions of human\nlife. An idealising Prince must fall before a practising world. A Prince\nmust learn in self-defence how to be bad, but like Caesar Borgia, he must\nbe a great judge of occasion. And what evil he does must be deliberate,\nappropriate, and calculated, and done, not selfishly, but for the good\nof the State of which he is trustee. There is the power of Law and the\npower of Force. The first is proper to men, the second to beasts. And\nthat is why Achilles was brought up by Cheiron the Centaur that he might\nlearn to use both natures. A ruler must be half lion and half fox, a fox\nto discern the toils, a lion to drive off the wolves. Merciful,\nfaithful, humane, religious, just, these he may be and above all should\nseem to be, nor should any word escape his lips to give the lie to his\nprofessions: and in fact he should not leave these qualities but when he\nmust. He should, if possible, practise goodness, but under necessity\nshould know how to pursue evil. He should keep faith until occasion\nalter, or reason of state compel him to break his pledge. Above all he\nshould profess and observe religion, 'because men in general judge\nrather by the eye than by the hand, and every one can see but few can\ntouch.' But none the less, must he learn (as did William the Silent,\nElizabeth of England, and Henry of Navarre) how to subordinate creed to\npolicy when urgent need is upon him. In a word, he must realise and face\nhis own position, and the facts of mankind and of the world. If not\nveracious to his conscience, he must be veracious to facts. He must not\nbe bad for badness' sake, but seeing things as they are, must deal as he\ncan to protect and preserve the trust committed to his care. Fortune is\nstill a fickle jade, but at least the half our will is free, and if we\nare bold we may master her yet. For Fortune is a woman who, to be kept\nunder, must be beaten and roughly handled, and we see that she is more\nready to be mastered by those who treat her so, than by those who are\nshy in their wooing. And always, like a woman, she gives her favours to\nthe young, because they are less scrupulous and fiercer and more\naudaciously command her to their will.\n\n[Sidenote: The Appeal.]\n\nAnd so at the last the sometime Secretary of the Florentine Republic\nturns to the new Master of the Florentines in splendid exhortation. He\npoints to no easy path. He proposes no mean ambition. He has said\nalready that 'double will that Prince's glory be, who has founded a new\nrealm and fortified it and adorned it with good laws, good arms, good\nfriends, and good examples.' But there is more and better to be done.\nThe great misery of men has ever made the great leaders of men. But was\nIsrael in Egypt, were the Persians, the Athenians ever more enslaved,\ndown-trodden, disunited, beaten, despoiled, mangled, overrun and\ndesolate than is our Italy to-day? The barbarians must be hounded out,\nand Italy be free and one. Now is the accepted time. All Italy is\nwaiting and only seeks the man. To you the darling of Fortune and the\nChurch this splendid task is given, to and to the army of Italy and of\nItalians only. Arm Italy and lead her. To you, the deliverer, what gates\nwould be closed, what obedience refused! What jealousies opposed, what\nhomage denied. Love, courage, and fixed fidelity await you, and under\nyour standards shall the voice of Petrarch be fulfilled:\n\n            Virtu contro al furore\n  Prendera l'arme e fia il combatter corto:\n              Che l'antico valore\n  Negl' Italici cor non e ancor morto.\n\nSuch is _The Prince_ of Machiavelli. The vision of its breathless\nexhortation seemed then as but a landscape to a blind man's eye. But the\npassing of three hundred and fifty years of the misery he wept for\nbrought at the last, almost in perfect exactness, the fulfilment of that\nimpossible prophecy.\n\n[Sidenote: The Attack.]\n\nThere is no great book in the world of smaller compass than _The Prince_\nof Machiavelli. There is no book more lucidly, directly, and plainly\nwritten. There is no book that has aroused more vehement, venomous, and\neven truculent controversy from the moment of its publication until\nto-day. And it is asserted with great probability that _The Prince_ has\nhad a more direct action upon real life than any other book in the\nworld, and a larger share in breaking the chains and lighting the dark\nplaces of the Middle Ages. It is a truism to say that Machiavellism\nexisted before Machiavelli. The politics of Gian Galeazzo Visconti, of\nLouis XI. of France, of Ferdinand of Spain, of the Papacy, of Venice,\nmight have been dictated by the author of _The Prince_. But Machiavelli\nwas the first to observe, to compare, to diagnose, to analyse, and to\nformulate their principles of government. The first to establish, not a\ndivorce, but rather a judicial separation between the morals of a man\nand the morals of a government. It is around the purpose and possible\nresults of such a separation in politics, ethics, and religion that the\nstorm has raged most fiercely. To follow the path of that storm through\nnear four centuries many volumes would be needed, and it will be more\nconvenient to deal with the more general questions in summing up the\ninfluence of Machiavelli as a whole. But the main lines and varying\nfortunes of the long campaign may be indicated. During the period of its\nmanuscript circulation and for a few years after its publication _The\nPrince_ was treated with favour or at worst with indifference, and the\nfirst mutterings were merely personal to the author. He was a scurvy\nknave and turncoat with neither bowels nor conscience, almost\nnegligible. But still men read him, and a change in conditions brought a\nchange in front. He had in _The Prince_, above all in the _Discorsi_,\naccused the Church of having ruined Italy and debauched the world. In\nview of the writer's growing popularity, of the Reformation and the\nPagan Renaissance, such charges could no longer be lightly set aside.\nThe Churchmen opened the main attack. Amongst the leaders was Cardinal\nPole, to whom the practical precepts of _The Prince_ had been\nrecommended in lieu of the dreams of Plato, by Thomas Cromwell, the\n_malleus monachorum_ of Henry VIII. The Catholic attack was purely\ntheological, but before long the Jesuits joined in the cry. Machiavelli\nwas burnt in effigy at Ingoldstadt. He was _subdolus diabolicarum\ncogitationum faber_, and _irrisor et atheos_ to boot. The Pope himself\ngave commissions to unite against him, and his books were placed on the\nIndex, together, it must be admitted, with those of Boccaccio, Erasmus,\nand Savonarola so the company was goodly. But meanwhile, and perhaps in\nconsequence, editions and translations of _The Prince_ multiplied apace.\nThe great figures of the world were absorbed by it. Charles V., his son,\nand his courtiers studied the book. Catherine de Medici brought it to\nFrance. A copy of _The Prince_ was found on the murdered bodies of Henry\nIII. and Henry IV. Richelieu praised it. Sextus V. analysed it in his\nown handwriting. It was read at the English Court; Bacon was steeped in\nit, and quotes or alludes to it constantly. Hobbes and Harrington\nstudied it.\n\nBut now another change. So then, cried Innocent Gentillet, the Huguenot,\nthe book is a primer of despotism and Rome, and a grammar for bigots and\ntyrants. It doubtless is answerable for the Massacre of St. Bartholomew.\nThe man is a _chien impur_. And in answer to this new huntsman the whole\nProtestant pack crashed in pursuit. Within fifty years of his death _The\nPrince_ and Machiavelli himself had become a legend and a myth, a\nhaunting, discomforting ghost that would not be laid. Machiavellism had\ngrown to be a case of conscience both to Catholic and Protestant, to\nTheologian, Moralist, and Philosopher. In Spain the author, damned in\nFrance for his despotism and popery, was as freshly and freely damned\nfor his civil and religious toleration. In England to the Cavaliers he\nwas an Atheist, to the Roundheads a Jesuit. Christina of Sweden\nannotated him with enthusiasm. Frederick the Great published his\n_Anti-Machiavel_ brimming with indignation, though it is impossible not\nto wonder what would have become of Prussia had not the Prussian king so\nclosely followed in practice the precepts of the Florentine, above all\nperhaps, as Voltaire observed, in the publication of the\n_Anti-Machiavel_ itself. No doubt in the eighteenth century, when\nmonarchy was so firmly established as not to need Machiavelli, kings and\nstatesmen sought to clear kingship of the supposed stain he had\nbesmirched them with. But their reading was as little as their\nmisunderstanding was great, and the Florentine Secretary remained the\nmysterious necromancer. It was left for Rousseau to describe the book of\nthis 'honnete homme et bon citoyen' as 'le livre des Republicains,' and\nfor Napoleon, the greatest of the author's followers if not disciples,\nto draw inspiration and suggestion from his Florentine forerunner and to\njustify the murder of the Due d'Enghien by a quotation from _The\nPrince_. 'Mais apres tout,' he said, 'un homme d'Etat est-il fait pour\netre sensible? N'est-ce pas un personnage--completement excentrique,\ntoujours seul d'un cote, avec le monde de l'autre?' and again 'Jugez\ndone s'il doit s'amuser a menager certaines convenances de sentiments si\nimportantes pour le commun des hommes? Peut-il considerer les liens du\nsang, les affections, les puerils menagements de la societe? Et dans la\nsituation ou il se trouve, que d'actions separees de l'ensemble et qu'on\nblame, quoiqu'elles doivent contribuer au grand oeuvre que tout le monde\nn'apercoit pas? ... Malheureux que vous etes! vous retiendrez vos eloges\nparce que vous craindrez que le mouvement de cette grande machine ne\nfasse sur vous l'effet de Gulliver, qui, lorsqu'il deplacait sa jambe,\necrasait les Lilliputiens. Exhortez-vous, devancez le temps, agrandissez\nvotre imagination, regardez de loin, et vous verrez que ces grands\npersonnages que vous croyez violents, cruels, que sais-je? ne sont que\ndes politiques. Ils se connaissent, se jugent mieux que vous, et, quand\nils sont reellement habiles, ils savent se rendre maitres de leurs\npassions car ils vont jusqu'a en calculer les effets.' Even in his\ncarriage at Waterloo was found a French translation of _The Prince_\nprofusely annotated.\n\n[Sidenote: The Defence.]\n\nBut from the first the defence was neither idle nor weak. The assault\nwas on the morals of the man: the fortress held for the ideas of the\nthinker. He does not treat of morals, therefore he is immoral, cried the\nplaintiff. Has he spoken truth or falsehood? Is his word the truth and\nwill his truth prevail? was the rejoinder. In Germany and Italy\nespecially and in France and England in less degree, philosophers and\ncritics have argued and written without stint and without cease. As\nhistory has grown wider and more scientific so has the preponderance of\nopinion leaned to the Florentine's favour.\n\nIt would be impossible to recapitulate the arguments or even to indicate\nthe varying points of view. And indeed the main hindrance in forming a\njust idea of _The Prince_ is the constant treatment of a single side of\nthe book and the preconceived intent of the critic. Bacon has already\nbeen mentioned. Among later names are Hobbes, Spinoza, Leibnitz. Herder\ngives qualified approval, while Fichte frankly throws down the glove as\n_The Prince's_ champion. 'Da man weiss dass politische Machtfragen nie,\nam wenigsten in einem verderbten Volke, mit den Mitteln der Moral zu\nloesen sind, so ist es unverstaendig das Buch von Fuersten zu verschreien.\nMacchiavelli hatte einen Herrscher zu schildern, keinen Klosterbruder.'\nThe last sentence may at least be accepted as a last word by practical\npoliticians. Ranke and Macaulay, and a host of competent Germans and\nItalians have lent their thought and pens to solve the riddle in the\nFlorentine's favour. And lastly, the course of political events in\nEurope have seemed to many the final justification of the teaching of\n_The Prince_. The leaders of the Risorgimento thought that they found in\nletters, 'writ with a stiletto,' not only the inspirations of patriotism\nand the aspirations to unity, but a sure and trusted guide to the\nachievement. Germany recognised in the author a schoolmaster to lead\nthem to unification, and a military instructor to teach them of an Armed\nPeople. Half Europe snatched at the principle of Nationality. For in\n_The Prince_, Machiavelli not only begat ideas but fertilised the ideas\nof others, and whatever the future estimation of the book may be, it\nstands, read or unread, as a most potent, if not as the dominant, factor\nin European politics for four hundred years.\n\n[Sidenote: The _Discorsi_.]\n\nThe _Discorsi_, printed in Rome by Blado, 1537, are not included in the\npresent edition, as the first English translation did not appear until\n1680, when almost the entire works of Machiavelli were published by an\nanonymous translator in London. But some account and consideration of\ntheir contents is imperative to any review of the Florentine's political\nthoughts. Such Discorsi and Relazioni were not uncommon at the time. The\nstronger and younger minds of the Renaissance wearied of discussing in\nthe lovely gardens of the Rucellai the ideas of Plato or the allegories\nof Plotinus. The politics of Aristotle had just been intelligibly\ntranslated by Leonardo Bruni (1492). And to-day the young ears and eyes\nof Florence were alert for an impulse to action. They saw glimpses, in\nreopened fields of history, of quarries long grown over where the ore of\npositive politics lay hid. The men who came to-day to the Orti\nOricellarii were men versed in public affairs, men of letters,\nhistorians, poets, living greatly in a great age, with Raphael, Michael\nAngelo, Ariosto, Leonardo going up and down amongst them. Machiavelli\nwas now in fair favour with the Medici, and is described by Strozzi as\n_una persona per sorgere_ (a rising man). He was welcomed into the group\nwith enthusiasm, and there read and discussed the _Discorsi_. Nominally\nmere considerations upon the First Decade of Livy, they rapidly\nencircled all that was known and thought of policy and state-craft, old\nand living.\n\n[Sidenote: Their Plan.]\n\nWritten concurrently with _The Prince_, though completed later, the\n_Discorsi_ contain almost the whole of the thoughts and intents of the\nmore famous book, but with a slightly different application. '_The\nPrince_ traces the progress of an ambitious man, the _Discorsi_ the\nprogress of an ambitious people,' is an apt if inadequate criticism.\nMachiavelli was not the first Italian who thought and wrote upon the\nproblems of his time. But he was the first who discussed grave questions\nin modern language. He was the first modern political writer who wrote\nof men and not of man, for the Prince himself is a collective\nindividuality.\n\n'This must be regarded as a general rule,' is ever in Machiavelli's\nmouth, while Guicciardini finds no value in a general rule, but only in\n'long experience and worthy discretion.' The one treated of policy, the\nother of politics. Guicciardini considered specifically by what methods\nto control and arrange an existing Government. Machiavelli sought to\ncreate a science, which should show how to establish, maintain, and\nhinder the decline of states generally conceived. Even Cavour counted\nthe former as a more practical guide in affairs. But Machiavelli was the\ntheorist of humanity in politics, not the observer only. He\ndistinguished the two orders of research. And, during the Italian\nRenaissance such distinction was supremely necessary. With a crumbled\ntheology, a pagan Pope, amid the wreck of laws and the confusion of\nsocial order, _il sue particolare_ and _virtu_, individuality and\nability (energy, political genius, prowess, vital force: _virtu_ is\nimpossible to translate, and only does not mean virtue), were the\ndominating and unrelenting factors of life. Niccolo Machiavelli, unlike\nMontesquieu, agreed with Martin Luther that man was bad. It was for both\nthe Wittenberger and the Florentine, in their very separate ways, to\nfound the school and wield the scourge. In the naked and unashamed\ncandour of the time Guicciardini could say that he loathed the Papacy\nand all its works. 'For all that, he adds, 'the preferments I have\nenjoyed, have forced me for my private ends to set my heart upon papal\ngreatness. Were it not for this consideration, I should love Martin\nLuther as my second self.' In the _Discorsi_, Machiavelli bitterly\narraigns the Church as having 'deprived Italians of religion and\nliberty.' He utterly condemns Savonarola, yet he could love and learn\nfrom Dante, and might almost have said with Pym, 'The greatest liberty\nof the Kingdom is Religion. Thereby we are freed from spiritual evils,\nand no impositions are so grievous as those that are laid upon the\nsoul.'\n\n[Sidenote: Religion.]\n\nThe Florentine postulates religion as an essential element in a strong\nand stable State. Perhaps, with Gibbon, he deemed it useful to the\nMagistrate. But his science is impersonal. He will not tolerate a Church\nthat poaches on his political preserves. Good dogma makes bad politics.\nIt must not tamper with liberty or security. And most certainly, with\nDante, in the _Paradiso_, he would either have transformed or omitted\nthe third Beatitude, that the Meek shall inherit the earth. With such a\ntemperament, Machiavelli must ever keep touch with sanity. It was not\nfor him as for Aristotle to imagine what an ideal State should be, but\nrather to inquire what States actually were and what they might actually\nbecome. He seeks first and foremost 'the use that may be derived from\nhistory in politics'; not from its incidents but from its general\nprinciples. His darling model of a State is to be found where Dante\nfound it, in the Roman Republic. The memory and even the substance of\nDante occur again and again. But Dante's inspiration was spiritual:\nMachiavelli's frankly pagan, and with the latter Fortune takes the place\nof God. Dante did not love the Papacy, but Machiavelli, pointing out how\neven in ancient Rome religion was politic or utilitarian, leads up to\nhis famous attack upon the Roman Church, to which he attributes all the\nshame and losses, political, social, moral, national, that Italy has\nsuffered at her hands. And now for the first time the necessity for\nItalian Unity is laid plainly down, and the Church and its temporal\npower denounced as the central obstacles. In religion itself the\nSecretary saw much merit. 'But when it is an absolute question of the\nwelfare of our country, then justice or injustice, mercy or cruelty,\npraise or ignominy, must be set aside, and we must seek alone whatever\ncourse may preserve the existence and liberty of the state.' Throughout\nthe _Discorsi_, Machiavelli in a looser and more expansive form,\nsuggests, discusses, or re-affirms the ideas of _The Prince_. There is\nthe same absence of judgment on the moral value of individual conduct;\nthe same keen decision of its practical effect as a political act. But\nhere more than in _The Prince_, he deals with the action and conduct of\nthe people. With his passion for personal and contemporary incarnation\nhe finds in the Swiss of his day the Romans of Republican Rome, and\nreiterates the comparison in detail. Feudalism, mercenaries, political\nassociations embodied in Arts and Guilds, the Temporal power of the\nChurch, all these are put away, and in their stead he announces the new\nand daring gospel that for organic unity subjects must be treated as\nequals and not as inferiors. 'Trust the people' is a maxim he repeats\nand enforces again and again. And he does not shrink from, but rather\nurges the corollary, 'Arm the people.' Indeed it were no audacious\nparadox to state the ideal of Machiavelli, though he nominally preferred\na Republic, as a Limited Monarchy, ruling over a Nation in Arms. No\ndoubt he sought, as was natural enough in his day, to construct the\nState from without rather than to guide and encourage its evolution from\nwithin. It seemed to him that, in such an ocean of corruption, Force\n_was_ a remedy and Fraud no sluttish handmaid. 'Vice n'est-ce pas,'\nwrites Montaigne, of such violent acts of Government, 'car il a quitte\nsa raison a une plus universelle et puissante raison.' Even so the\nPrince and the people could only be justified by results. But the public\nlife is of larger value than the private, and sometimes one man must be\ncrucified for a thousand. Despite all prejudice and make-belief, such a\nrule and practice has obtained from the Assemblies of Athens to the\nParliaments of the twentieth century. But Machiavelli first candidly\nimparted it to the unwilling consciences and brains of men, and it is he\nwho has been the chosen scape-goat to carry the sins of the people. His\nearnestness makes him belie his own precept to keep the name and take\naway the thing. In this, as in a thousand instances, he was not too\ndarkly hidden; he was too plain. 'Machiavelli,' says one who studied the\nFlorentine as hardly another had done, 'Machiavelli hat gesuendigt, aber\nnoch mehr ist gegen ihn gesuendigt worden.' Liberty is good, but Unity is\nits only sure foundation. It is the way to the Unity of Government and\nPeople that the thoughts both of _The Prince_ and the _Discorsi_ lead,\nthough the incidents be so nakedly presented as to shock the timorous\nand vex the prurient, the puritan, and the evil thinker. The people must\nobey the State and fight and die for its salvation, and for the Prince\nthe hatred of the subjects is never good, but their love, and the best\nway to gain it is by 'not interrupting the subject in the quiet\nenjoyment of his estate.' Even so bland and gentle a spirit as the poet\nGray cannot but comment, 'I rejoice when I see Machiavelli defended or\nillustrated, who to me appears one of the wisest men that any nation in\nany age hath produced.'\n\n[Sidenote: The Art of War.]\n\nThroughout both _The Prince_ and the _Discorsi_ are constant allusions\nto, and often long discussions on, military affairs. The Army profoundly\ninterested Machiavelli both as a primary condition of national existence\nand stability, and also, as he pondered upon the contrast between\nancient Rome and the Florence that he lived in, as a subject fascinating\nin itself. His _Art of War_ was probably published in 1520. Before that\ndate the Florentine Secretary had had some personal touch both with the\ntheory and practice of war. As a responsible official in the camp before\nPisa he had seen both siege work and fighting. Having lost faith in\nmercenary forces he made immense attempts to form a National Militia,\nand was appointed Chancellor of the Nove della Milizia. In Switzerland\nand the Tyrol he had studied army questions. He planned with Pietro\nNavarro the defence of Florence and Prato against Charles V. At Verona\nand Mantua in 1509, he closely studied the famous siege of Padua. From\nbirth to death war and battles raged all about him, and he had personal\nknowledge of the great captains of the Age. Moreover, he saw in Italy\ntroops of every country, of every quality, in every stage of discipline,\nin every manner of formation. His love of ancient Rome led him naturally\nto the study of Livy and Vegetius, and from them with regard to\nformations, to the relative values of infantry and cavalry and other\npoints of tactics, he drew or deduced many conclusions which hold good\nto-day. Indeed a German staff officer has written that in reading the\nFlorentine you think you are listening to a modern theorist of war. But\nfor the theorist of those days a lion stood in the path. The art of war\nwas not excepted from the quick and thorough transformation that all\nearthly and spiritual things were undergoing. Gunpowder, long invented,\nwas being applied. Armour, that, since the beginning, had saved both man\nand horse, had now lost the half of its virtue. The walls of fortresses,\nimpregnable for a thousand years, became as matchwood ramparts. The\nmounted man-at-arms was found with wonder to be no match for the\nlightly-armoured but nimble foot-man. The Swiss were seen to hold their\nown with ease against the knighthood of Austria and Burgundy. The Free\nCompanies lost in value and prestige what they added to their corruption\nand treachery. All these things grew clear to Machiavelli. But his\nalmost fatal misfortune was that he observed and wrote in the mid-moment\nof the transition. He had no faith in fire-arms, and as regards the\nportable fire-arms of those days he was right. After the artillery work\nat Ravenna, Novara, and Marignano it is argued that he should have known\nbetter. But he was present at no great battles, and pike, spear, and\nsword had been the stable weapons of four thousand years. These were\nindeed too simple to be largely modified, and the future of mechanisms\nand explosives no prophet uninspired could foresee. And indeed the\narmament and formation of men were not the main intent of Machiavelli's\nthought. His care in detail, especially in fortifications, of which he\nmade a special study, in encampments, in plans, in calculations, is\nimmense. Nothing is so trivial as to be left inexact.\n\n[Sidenote: The New Model.]\n\nBut he centred his observation and imagination on the origin, character,\nand discipline of an army in being. He pictures the horror, waste, and\nfailure of a mercenary system, and lays down the fatal error in Italy of\nseparating civil from military life, converting the latter into a trade.\nIn such a way the soldier grows to a beast, and the citizen to a coward.\nAll this must be changed. The basic idea of this astounding Secretary is\nto form a National Army, furnished by conscription and informed by the\nspirit of the New Model of Cromwell. All able-bodied men between the\nages of seventeen and forty should be drilled on stated days and be kept\nin constant readiness. Once or twice a year each battalion must be\nmobilised and manoeuvred as in time of war. The discipline must be\nconstant and severe. The men must be not only robust and well-trained,\nbut, above all, virtuous, modest, and disposed to any sacrifice for the\npublic good. So imbued should they be with duty and lofty devotion to\ntheir country that though they may rightly deceive the enemy, reward the\nenemy's deserters and employ spies, yet 'an apple tree laden with fruit\nmight stand untouched in the midst of their encampment.' The infantry\nshould far exceed the cavalry, 'since it is by infantry that battles are\nwon.' Secrecy, mobility, and familiarity with the country are to be\nobjects of special care, and positions should be chosen from which\nadvance is safer than retreat. In war this army must be led by one\nsingle leader, and, when peace shines again, they must go back contented\nto their grateful fellow-countrymen and their wonted ways of living. The\nconception and foundation of such a scheme, at such a time, by such a\nman is indeed astounding. He broke with the past and with all\ncontemporary organisations. He forecast the future of military Europe,\nthough his own Italy was the last to win her redemption through his\nplans. 'Taken all in all,' says a German military writer, 'we may\nrecognise Machiavelli in his inspired knowledge of the principles of\nuniversal military discipline as a true prophet and as one of the\nweightiest thinkers in the field of military construction and\nconstitution. He penetrated the essence of military technique with a\nprecision wholly alien to his period, and it is, so to say, a new\npsychological proof of the relationship between the art of war and the\nart of statecraft, that the founder of Modern Politics is also the first\nof modern Military Classics.'\n\nBut woe to the Florentine Secretary with his thoughts born centuries\nbefore their time. As in _The Prince_, so in the _Art of War_, he closes\nwith a passionate appeal of great sorrow and the smallest ray of hope.\nWhere shall I hope to find the things that I have told of? What is Italy\nto-day? What are the Italians? Enervated, impotent, vile. Wherefore, 'I\nlament mee of nature, the which either ought not to have made mee a\nknower of this, or it ought to have given mee power, to have bene able\nto have executed it: For now beeing olde, I cannot hope to have any\noccasion, to be able so to doo: In consideration whereof, I have bene\nliberall with you who beeing grave young men, may (when the thinges said\nof me shall please you) at due times, in favoure of your Princes, helpe\nthem and counsider them. Wherin I would have you not to be afraied, or\nmistrustfull, because this Province seemes to bee altogether given to\nraise up againe the things deade, as is seene by the perfection that\nPoesie, painting, and writing, is now brought unto: Albeit, as much as\nis looked for of mee, beeing strooken in yeeres, I do mistrust. Where\nsurely, if Fortune had heretofore graunted mee so much state, as\nsuffiseth for a like enterprise, I would not have doubted, but in most\nshort time, to have shewed to the world, how much the auncient orders\navaile: and without peradventure, either I would have increased it with\nglory, or lost it without shame.'\n\n[Sidenote: _The History of Florence_.]\n\nIn 1520 Machiavelli was an ageing and disappointed man. He was not\npopular with any party, but the Medici were willing to use him in minor\nmatters if only to secure his adherence. He was commissioned by Giulio\nde Medici to write a history of Florence with an annual allowance of 100\nflorins. In 1525 he completed his task and dedicated the book to its\nbegetter, Pope Clement VII.\n\nIn the History, as in much of his other work, Machiavelli enriches the\nscience of humanity with a new department. 'He was the first to\ncontemplate the life of a nation in its continuity, to trace the\noperation of political forces through successive generations, to\ncontrast the action of individuals with the evolution of causes over\nwhich they had but little control, and to bring the salient features of\nthe national biography into relief by the suppression of comparatively\nunimportant details.' He found no examples to follow, for Villani with\nall his merits was of a different order. Diarists and chroniclers there\nwere in plenty, and works of the learned men led by Aretino, written in\nLatin and mainly rhetorical. The great work of Guicciardini was not\npublished till years after the Secretary's death. Machiavelli broke away\nfrom the Chronicle or any other existing form. He deliberately applied\nphilosophy to the sequence of facts. He organised civil and political\nhistory. He originally intended to begin his work at the year 1234, the\nyear of the return of Cosimo il Vecchio from exile and of the\nconsolidation of Medicean power on the ground that the earlier periods\nhad been covered by Aretino and Bracciolini. But he speedily recognised\nthat they told of nothing but external wars and business while the heart\nof the history of Florence was left unbared. The work was to do again in\nvery different manner, and in that manner he did it. Throughout he\nmaintains and insistently insinuates his unfailing explanation of the\nmiseries of Italy; the necessity of unity and the evils of the Papacy\nwhich prevents it. In this book dedicated to a Pope he scants nothing of\nhis hatred of the Holy See. For ever he is still seeking the one strong\nman in a blatant land with almost absolute power to punish, pull down,\nand reconstruct on an abiding foundation, for to his clear eyes it is\never the events that are born of the man, and not the man of the events.\nHe was the first to observe that the Ghibellines were not only the\nImperial party but the party of the aristocrats and influential men,\nwhereas the Guelphs were the party not only of the Church but of the\npeople, and he traces the slow but increasing struggle to the triumph of\ndemocracy in the Ordinamenti di Giustizia (1293). But the triumph was\nnot final. The Florentines were 'unable to preserve liberty and could\nnot tolerate slavery.' So the fighting, banishments, bloodshed, cruelty,\ninjustice, began once more. The nobles were in origin Germanic, he\npoints out, the people Latin; so that a racial bitterness gave accent to\ntheir hate. But yet, he adds impartially, when the crushed nobility were\nforced to change their names and no longer dared be heard 'Florence was\nnot only stripped of arms but likewise of all generosity.' It would be\nimpossible to follow the History in detail. The second, seventh and\neighth books are perhaps the most powerful and dramatic. Outside affairs\nand lesser events are lightly touched. But no stories in the world have\nbeen told with more intensity than those of the conspiracies in the\nseventh and eighth books, and none have given a more intimate and\naccurate perception of the modes of thought and feeling at the time. The\nHistory ends with the death of Lorenzo de Medici in 1492. Enough has\nbeen said of its breadth of scope and originality of method. The spirit\nof clear flaming patriotism, of undying hope that will not in the\ndarkest day despair, the plangent appeal to Italy for its own great sake\nto rouse and live, all these are found pre-eminently in the History as\nthey are found wherever Machiavelli speaks from the heart of his heart.\nOf the style a foreigner may not speak. But those who are proper judges\nmaintain that in simplicity and lucidity, vigour, and power, softness,\nelevation, and eloquence, the style of Machiavelli is 'divine,' and\nremains, as that of Dante among the poets, unchallenged and insuperable\namong all writers of Italian prose.\n\n[Sidenote: Other Works.]\n\nThough Machiavelli must always stand as a political thinker, an\nhistorian, and a military theorist it would leave an insufficient idea\nof his mental activities were there no short notice of his other\nliterary works. With his passion for incarnating his theories in a\nsingle personality, he wrote the _Life of Castruccio Castracani_, a\npolitico-military romance. His hero was a soldier of fortune born Lucca\nin 1281, and, playing with a free hand, Machiavelli weaves a life of\nadventure and romance in which his constant ideas of war and politics\nrun through and across an almost imaginary tapestry. He seems to have\nintended to illustrate and to popularise his ideals and to attain by a\nstory the many whom his discourses could not reach. In verse Machiavelli\nwas fluent, pungent, and prosaic. The unfinished _Golden Ass_ is merely\nmade of paragraphs of the _Discorsi_ twined into rhymes. And the others\nare little better. Countless pamphlets, essays, and descriptions may be\nsearched without total waste by the very curious and the very leisurely.\nThe many despatches and multitudinous private letters tell the story\nboth of his life and his mind. But the short but famous _Novella di\nBelfagor Arcidiavolo_ is excellent in wit, satire, and invention. As a\nplaywright he wrote, among many lesser efforts, one supreme comedy,\n_Mandragola_, which Macaulay declares to be better than the best of\nGoldoni's plays, and only less excellent than the very best of\nMoliere's. Italian critics call it the finest play in Italian. The plot\nis not for nursery reading, but there are tears and laughter and pity\nand anger to furnish forth a copious author, and it has been not ill\nobserved that _Mandragola_ is the comedy of a society of which _The\nPrince_ is the tragedy.\n\n[Sidenote: The End.]\n\nIt has been said of the Italians of the Renaissance that with so much of\nunfairness in their policy, there was an extraordinary degree of\nfairness in their intellects. They were as direct in thought as they\nwere tortuous in action and could see no wickedness in deceiving a man\nwhom they intended to destroy. To such a charge--if charge it\nbe--Machiavelli would have willingly owned himself answerable. He\nobserved, in order to know, and he wished to use his knowledge for the\nadvancement of good. To him the means were indifferent, provided only\nthat they were always apt and moderate in accordance with necessity, A\nsurgeon has no room for sentiment: in such an operator pity were a\ncrime. It is his to examine, to probe, to diagnose, flinching at no\nulcer, sparing neither to himself or to his patient. And if he may not\nact, he is to lay down very clearly the reasons which led to his\nconclusions and to state the mode by which life itself may be saved,\ncost what amputation and agony it may. This was Machiavelli's business,\nand he applied his eye, his brains, and his knife with a relentless\npersistence, which, only because it was so faithful, was not called\nheroic. And we know that he suffered in the doing of it and that his\nheart was sore for his patient. But there was no other way. His record\nis clear and shining. He has been accused of no treachery, of no evil\naction. His patriotism for Italy as a fatherland, a dream undreamt by\nany other, never glowed more brightly than when Italy lay low in shame,\nand ruin, and despair. His faith never faltered, his spirit never\nshrank. And the Italy that he saw, through dark bursts of storm, broken\nand sinking, we see to-day riding in the sunny haven where he would have\nher to be.\n\nHENRY CUST.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS             PAGE\n\nTHE ARTE OF WARRE       1\n\nTHE PRINCE            251\n\n\n\n\nTHE ARTE OF WARRE\n\nWRITTEN FIRST IN ITALIAN BY\n\nNICHOLAS MACHIAVELL\n\nAND SET FORTHE IN ENGLISHE BY\n\nPETER WHITEHORNE\n\nSTUDIENT AT GRAIES INNE\n\nWITH AN ADDICION OF OTHER LIKE\nMARCIALLE FEATES AND EXPERIMENTES\n\nAS IN A TABLE\n\nIN THE ENDE OF THE BOOKE\n\nMAIE APPERE\n\n\n1560\n\n_Menfss. Iulij_.\n\n\n\nTO THE MOSTE\n\nHIGHE, AND EXCELLENT PRINCES,\n\nELIZABETH, by the Grace of God, Quene\n\nof Englande, Fraunce, and Irelande,\n\ndefender of the faithe, and of the Churche\n\nof Englande, and Irelande, on yearth\n\nnext under God, the supreme\n\nGovernour.\n\n\nAlthough commonlie every man, moste worthie and renoumed Soveraine,\nseketh specially to commend and extolle the thing, whereunto he feleth\nhymself naturally bent and inclined, yet al soche parciallitie and\nprivate affection laid aside, it is to bee thought (that for the\ndefence, maintenaunce, and advauncemente of a Kyngdome, or Common weale,\nor for the good and due observacion of peace, and administracion of\nJustice in the same) no one thinge to be more profitable, necessarie, or\nmore honourable, then the knowledge of service in warre, and dedes of\narmes; bicause consideryng the ambicion of the worlde, it is impossible\nfor any realme or dominion, long to continue free in quietnesse and\nsavegarde, where the defence of the sweard is not alwaies in a\nreadinesse. For like as the Grekes, beyng occupied aboute triflyng\nmatters, takyng pleasure in resityng of Comedies, and soche other vain\nthinges, altogether neclecting Marciall feates, gave occasion to Philip\nkyng of Macedonia, father to Alexander the Great, to oppresse and to\nbring theim in servitude, under his subjeccion, even so undoubtedly,\nlibertie will not be kepte, but men shall be troden under foote, and\nbrought to moste horrible miserie and calamitie, if thei givyng theim\nselves to pastymes and pleasure, forssake the juste regarde of their\nowne defence, and savegarde of their countrie, whiche in temporall\nregimente, chiefly consisteth in warlike skilfulnesse. And therefore the\naunciente Capitaines and mightie Conquerours, so longe as thei\nflorished, did devise with moste greate diligence, all maner of waies,\nto bryng their men to the perfect knowledge of what so ever thing\nappertained to the warre: as manifestly appereth by the warlike games,\nwhiche in old time the Princes of Grecia ordained, upon the mount\nOlimpus, and also by thorders and exercises, that the aunciente Romaines\nused in sundrie places, and specially in Campo Martio, and in their\nwonderful sumptuous Theaters, whiche chiefly thei builded to that\npurpose. Whereby thei not onely made their Souldiours so experte, that\nthei obtained with a fewe, in faightyng againste a greate houge\nmultitude of enemies, soche marveilous victories, as in many credible\nHistories are mencioned, but also by the same meanes, their unarmed and\nrascalle people that followed their Campes, gotte soche understandyng in\nthe feates of warre, that thei in the daie of battaile, beeyng lefte\ndestitute of succour, were able without any other help, to set\nthemselves in good order, for their defence againste the enemie, that\nwould seke to hurte theim, and in soche daungerous times, have doen\ntheir countrie so good service, that verie often by their helpe, the\nadversaries have been put to flight, and fieldes moste happely wone. So\nthat thantiquitie estemed nothing more happie in a common weale, then to\nhave in the same many men skilfull in warlike affaires: by meanes\nwhereof, their Empire continually inlarged, and moste wonderfully and\ntriumphantly prospered. For so longe as men for their valiauntnesse,\nwere then rewarded and had in estimacion, glad was he that could finde\noccasion to venter, yea, and spende his life, to benefite his countrie:\nas by the manly actes that Marcus Curcius, Oracius Cocles, and Gaius\nMucius did for the savegarde of Rome and also by other innumerable like\nexamples dooeth plainly appeare. But when through long and continuall\npeace, thei began to bee altogether given to pleasure and delicatenesse,\nlittle regardyng Marciall feates, nor soche as were expert in the\npractise thereof: Their dominions and estates, did not so moche before\nincrease and prospere, as then by soche meanes and oversight, thei\nsodainly fell into decaie and utter ruine. For soche truly is the nature\nand condicion, bothe of peace and warre, that where in governemente,\nthere is not had equalle consideration of them bothe, the one in fine,\ndoeth woorke and induce, the others oblivion and utter abholicion.\nWherfore, sith the necessitie of the science of warres is so greate, and\nalso the necessarie use thereof so manifeste, that even Ladie Peace her\nself, doeth in maner from thens crave her chief defence and\npreservacion, and the worthinesse moreover, and honour of the same so\ngreate, that as by prose we see, the perfecte glorie therof, cannot\neasely finde roote, but in the hartes of moste noble couragious and\nmanlike personages, I thought most excellente Princes, I could not\neither to the specialle gratefiyng of your highnesse, the universall\ndelight of all studious gentlemen, or the common utilitie of the publike\nwealth, imploie my labours more profitablie in accomplishyng of my\nduetie and good will, then in settyng foorthe some thing, that might\ninduce to the augmentyng and increase of the knowledge thereof:\ninespecially thexample of your highnes most politike governemente over\nus, givyng plaine testimonie of the wonderfull prudente desire that is\nin you, to have your people instructed in this kinde of service, as well\nfor the better defence of your highnesse, theim selves, and their\ncountrie, as also to discourage thereby, and to be able to resist the\nmalingnitie of the enemie, who otherwise would seeke peradventure, to\ninvade this noble realme or kyngdome.\n\nWhen therfore about x. yeres paste, in the Emperours warres against the\nMores and certain Turkes beyng in Barberie, at the siege and winnyng of\nCalibbia, Monesterio and Africa, I had as well for my further\ninstruction in those affaires, as also the better to acquainte me with\nthe Italian tongue, reduced into Englishe, the booke called The arte of\nWarre, of the famous and excellente Nicholas Machiavell, whiche in times\npaste he beyng a counsailour, and Secretarie of the noble Citee of\nFlorence, not without his greate laude and praise did write: and havyng\nlately againe, somwhat perused the same, the whiche in soche continuall\nbroiles and unquietnesse, was by me translated, I determined with my\nself, by publishyng thereof, to bestowe as greate a gift (sins greater I\nwas not able) emongeste my countrie men, not experte in the Italian\ntongue, as in like woorkes I had seen before me, the Frenchemen,\nDuchemen, Spaniardes, and other forreine nacions, moste lovyngly to have\nbestowed emongeste theirs: The rather undoubtedly, that as by private\nreadyng of the same booke, I then felt my self in that knowledge\nmarveilously holpen and increased, so by communicatyng the same to many,\nour Englishemen findyng out the orderyng and disposyng of exploictes of\nwarre therein contained, the aide and direction of these plaine and\nbriefe preceptes, might no lesse in knowledge of warres become\nincomperable, then in prowes also and exercise of the same, altogether\ninvincible: which my translacion moste gracious Soveraine, together with\nsoche other thynges, as by me hath been gathered, and thought good to\nadde thereunto, I have presumed to dedicate unto youre highnes: not\nonely bicause the whole charge and furniture of warlike counsailes and\npreparacions, being determined by the arbitremente of Governours and\nPrinces, the treatise also of like effecte should in like maner as of\nright, depende upon the protection of a moste worthie and noble\nPatronesse, but also that the discourse it self, and the woorke of a\nforrein aucthour, under the passeport and safeconduite of your highnes\nmoste noble name, might by speciall aucthoritie of the same, winne\nemongest your Majesties subjectes, moche better credite and estimacion.\nAnd if mooste mightie Queen, in this kind of Philosophie (if I maie so\nterme it) grave and sage counsailes, learned and wittie preceptes, or\npolitike and prudente admonicions, ought not to be accompted the least\nand basest tewels of weale publike. Then dare I boldely affirme, that of\nmany straungers, whiche from forrein countries, have here tofore in this\nyour Majesties realme arrived, there is none in comparison to bee\npreferred, before this worthie Florentine and Italian, who havyng frely\nwithout any gaine of exchaunge (as after some acquaintaunce and\nfamiliaritie will better appeare) brought with hym moste riche, rare and\nplentiful Treasure, shall deserve I trust of all good Englishe lishe\nhartes, most lovingly and frendly to be intertained, embraced and\ncherished. Whose newe Englishe apparell, how so ever it shall seme by\nme, after a grosse fasion, more fitlie appoincted to the Campe, then in\nnice termes attired to the Carpet, and in course clothyng rather putte\nfoorthe to battaile, then in any brave shewe prepared to the bankette,\nneverthelesse my good will I truste, shall of your grace be taken in\ngood parte, havyng fashioned the phraise of my rude stile, even\naccordyng to the purpose of my travaile, whiche was rather to profite\nthe desirous manne of warre, then to delight the eares of the fine\nRethorician, or daintie curious scholemanne: Moste humblie besechyng\nyour highnes, so to accept my labour herein, as the first fruictes of a\npoore souldiours studie, who to the uttermoste of his smalle power, in\nthe service of your moste gracious majestie, and of his countrie, will\nat al tymes, accordyng to his bounden duetie and allegeaunce, promptlie\nyeld hym self to any labour, travaile, or daunger, what so ever shal\nhappen. Praiyng in the mean season the almightie God, to give your\nhighnes in longe prosperous raigne, perfect health, desired\ntranquilitie, and against all your enemies, luckie and joifull victorie.\n\nYour humble subject and dailie oratour,\n\nPETER WHITEHORNE.\n\n\n\n\nTHE PROHEME\nOF NICHOLAS MACHIAVELL,\nCitezein and Secretarie of Florence,\nupon his booke of the Arte of Warre, unto\nLaurence Philippe Strozze, one of the\nnobilitie of Florence.\n\n\nThere have Laurence, many helde, and do holde this opinion, that there\nis no maner of thing, whiche lesse agreeth the one with the other, nor\nthat is so much unlike, as the civil life to the Souldiours. Wherby it\nis often seen, that if any determin in thexercise of that kinde of\nservice to prevaile, that incontinent he doeth not only chaunge in\napparel, but also in custome and maner, in voice, and from the facion of\nall civil use, he doeth alter: For that he thinketh not meete to clothe\nwith civell apparell him, who wil be redie, and promt to all kinde of\nviolence, nor the civell customes, and usages maie that man have, the\nwhiche judgeth bothe those customes to be effeminate, and those usages\nnot to be agreable to his profession: Nor it semes not convenient for\nhim to use the civill gesture and ordinarie wordes, who with fasing and\nblasphemies, will make afraied other menne: the whiche causeth in this\ntime, suche opinion to be moste true. But if thei should consider\nthauncient orders, there should nothing be founde more united, more\nconfirmable, and that of necessitie ought to love so much the one the\nother, as these: for as muche as all the artes that are ordeined in a\ncommon weale, in regarde or respecte of common profite of menne, all the\norders made in the same, to live with feare of the Lawe, and of God\nshould be vaine, if by force of armes their defence wer not prepared,\nwhich, well ordeined, doe maintain those also whiche be not well\nordeined. And likewise to the contrarie the good orders, without the\nsouldiours help, no lesse or otherwise doe disorder, then the habitacion\nof a sumptuous and roiall palais, although it wer decte with gold and\nprecious stones, when without being covered, should not have wherewith\nto defende it from the raine. And if in what so ever other orders of\nCities and Kyngdomes, there hath been used al diligence for to maintain\nmen faithfull, peaceable, and full of the feare of God, in the service\nof warre, it was doubled: if for in what man ought the countrie to seke\ngreater faith, then in him, who must promise to die for the same? In\nwhom ought there to bee more love of peace, then in him, whiche onely by\nthe warre maie be hurte? In whome ought there to bee more feare of GOD,\nthen in him, which every daie committyng himself to infinite perilles,\nhath moste neede of his helpe? This necessitie considered wel, bothe of\nthem that gave the lawes to Empires, and of those that to the exercise\nof service wer apoincted, made that the life of Souldiours, of other\nmenne was praised, and with all studie folowed and imitated. But the\norders of service of war, beyng altogether corrupted, and a greate waie\nfrom the auncient maners altered, there hath growen these sinisterous\nopinions, which maketh men to hate the warlike service, and to flie the\nconversacion of those that dooe exercise it. Albeit I judgeing by the\nsame, that I have seen and redde, that it is not a thyng impossible, to\nbryng it again to the auncient maners, and to give it some facion of the\nvertue passed, I have determined to the entente not to passe this my\nidell time, without doyng some thyng, to write that whiche I doe\nunderstande, to the satisfaction of those, who of aunciente actes, are\nlovers of the science of warre. And although it be a bold thing to\nintreate of the same matter, wher of otherwise I have made no\nprofession, notwithstanding I beleve it is no errour, to occupie with\nwordes a degree, the whiche many with greater presumpcion with their\ndeedes have occupied: for as muche as the errours that I maie happen to\nmake by writing, may be without harme to any man corrected: but those\nthe whiche of them be made in doyng cannot be knowen without the ruine\nof Empires. Therefore Laurence you ought to consider the qualitie of\nthis my laboure, and with your judgement to give it that blame, or that\npraise, as shall seeme unto you it hath deserved. The whiche I sende\nunto you, as well to shewe my selfe gratefull, although my habilitie\nreche not to the benefites, which I have received of you, as also for\nthat beyng the custome to honour with like workes them who for\nnobilitie, riches, wisedome, and liberalitie doe shine: I knowe you for\nriches, and nobilitie, not to have many peeres, for wisedome fewe, and\nfor liberalitie none.\n\n\n\n\nTHE ARTE OF WARRE\n\nTHE TABLE\nOF CERTAIN PRINCIPALL THINGES,\nCONTAINED IN THIS WOORKE\nOF MACHIAVEL\n\nIN THE FIRSTE BOOKE\n\n\nWhy a good man ought not to exersise warfare as his arte, 33\n\nDeedes of armes ought to be used privatly in time of peace for exersise,\nand in time of warre for necessetie and renoume, 36\n\nThe strength of an armie is the footemen, 38\n\nThe Romaines renued their Legions and had men in the flower of their\nage, 38\n\nWhether men of armes ought to be kept, 40\n\nWhat is requisete for the preparyng of an armie, 42\n\nOut of what contrie souldiers ought to be chosen, 43\n\nSouldiers ought to bee chosen, by thaucthoritie of the Prince, of suche\nmen as be his oune subjectes, 44\n\nThe difference of ages, that is to be taken in the chosinge of\nsouldiours for the restoring of an olde power and for the making of a\nnewe, 44\n\nThe weapons or power that is prepared, of the naturall subjectes, of a\ncommon weale bringeth profit and not hurte, 47\n\nWhat cause letted the Venetians, that they made not a Monarchi of the\nworlde, 48\n\nHow an armie maye bee prepared in the countrie, where were no exersise\nof warre, 49\n\nThe custome that the Romaines used, in the chosyng of their souldiours,\n51\n\nThe greater number of men is best, 53\n\nWhether the multitude of armed men ar occation of confusion and of\ndissorder, 55\n\nHow to prohibite, that the Capitaines make no discension, 57\n\n\nIN THE SECONDE BOOKE\n\nWhat armour the antiquetie used, 61\n\nThe occation of the boldenes of the duchemen, 64\n\nWhiche maner of armyng menne is better either the Duche or Romaine\nfasion, 64\n\nDiverse examples of late dayes, 66\n\nAn example of Tigran, 69\n\nWhether the footemen or the horsemen ought to bee estemed moste, 70\n\nThe cause whie the Romaines were overcome of the parthians, 71\n\nWhat order, or what vertue maketh, that footemen overcum horsemen, 71\n\nHowe the antiquitie exersised their men to learne them to handle their\nweapons, 73\n\nWhat the antiquitie estemed moste happie in a common weale, 75\n\nThe maner, of maintainyng the order, 77\n\nWhat a legion is, of Grekes called a Falange, and of Frenchemen\nCatterva, 77\n\nThe devision of a legion, and the divers names of orders, 78\n\nThe order of batellraye, and the manner of appoincting the battels, 82\n\nHow to order, CCCC.L. men to doo some severall feate, 88\n\nThe fation of a battaile that the Suisers make like a crosse, 90\n\nWhat carriages the Capitaines ought to have, and the number of carriages\nrequisite to every band of men, 91\n\nDiverse effectes caused of diverse soundes, 93\n\nWhereof cometh the utilitie, and the dissorder of the armies that are\nnow a daies, 93\n\nThe manner of arminge men, 97\n\nThe number of carriages that men of armes and lighte horsemen ought to\nhave, 98\n\n\nIN THE THIRDE BOOKE\n\nThe greatest dissorder that is used now a dayes in the orderinge of an\narmie, 102\n\nHow the Romaines devided their armie in Hastati, Principi and Triarii,\n102\n\nThe manner that the Romaines used to order them selves agayne in the\noverthrow, 103\n\nThe custom of the Greekes, 103\n\nA maine battaile of Suissers, 104\n\nHow manie legions of Romaine Citesens was in an ordinarie armie, 105\n\nThe manner how to pitche a fielde to faighte a battaile, 106\n\nOf what number of faighting men an armie oughte to be, 110\n\nThe description of a battaile that is a faighting, 111\n\nAn exsample of Ventidio faighting against the Parthians, 114\n\nAn example of Epaminondas, 115\n\nHow the Artillerie is unprofitable, 116\n\nHow that a maine battaile of Suissers cannot ocupie more then fower\npikes, 120\n\nHow the battailes when thei cum to be eight or ten, maye be receyved in\nthe verie same space, that received the fyve, 123\n\nThe armes that the Standarde of all tharmie ought to have, 125\n\nDivers examples of the antiquetie, 126\n\n\nIN THE FOWERTH BOOKE\n\nWhether the fronte of the armie ought to bee made large, 132\n\nTo how many thinges respecte ought to be had, in the ordringe of an\narmie, 133\n\nAn example of Scipio, 134\n\nIn what place a Capitain maie order his armie with savegarde not to be\nclene overthrowen, 135\n\nAniball and Scipio praised for the orderynge of their armies, 135\n\nCartes used of the Asiaticans, 137\n\nDiverse examples of the antiquitie, 137\n\nThe prudence which the Capitaine ought to use, in the accidence that\nchaunse in faightinge, 138\n\nWhat a Capitaine ought to doo, that is the conqueror, or that is\nconquered, 140\n\nA Capitaine ought not to faighte the battaile, but with advauntage,\nexcepte he be constrained, 142\n\nHow to avoide the faightinge of the fielde, 144\n\nAdvertismentes that the Capitaine ought to have, 146\n\nSpeakyng to souldiers helpeth muche to make them to be curagious and\nbolde, 146\n\nWhether all the armie ought to bee spoken unto, or onely to the heddes\nthereof, 147\n\n\nIN THE FYVETH BOOKE\n\nThe manner how to leade an armie gowinge thorough suspected places, or\nto incounter the enemie, 152\n\nAn example of Aniball, 156\n\nWether any thing oughte to bee commaunded with the voise or with the\ntrompet, 159\n\nThe occations why the warres made now a dayes, doo impoverish the\nconquerors as well as the conquered, 162\n\nCredite ought not to be given to thinges which stand nothinge with\nreason, 164\n\nThe armie ought not to knowe what the Capitaine purposeth to doo, 165\n\nDiverse examples, 167\n\n\nIN THE SIXTE BOOKE\n\nThe maner how to incampe an armie, 175\n\nHow brode the spaces and the wayes ought to be within the campe, 182\n\nWhat waye ought to be used when it is requiset to incampe nere the\nenemie, 184\n\nHow the watche and warde ought to be apoincted in the campe, and what\npunishmente they ought to have that doo not their dutie, 186\n\nHow the Romanies prohibited women to be in their armies and idell games\nto be used, 188\n\nHow to incampe accordinge to the nomber of men, and what nomber of menne\nmaie suffise againste, what so ever enemie that wer, 191\n\nHow to doo to be assured, of the fideletie of those that are had in\nsuspition, 193\n\nWhat a Capitaine ought to doo beinge beseged of his enemies, 194\n\nExample of Coriliano and others, 195\n\nIt is requiset chiefly for a Capitain to kepe his souldiers punished and\npayed, 197\n\nOf aguries, 197\n\nMoste excellent advertismentes and pollicies, 198\n\nThe occation of the overthrowe of the Frenchmen at Garigliano, 202\n\n\nIN THE SEVENTH BOOKE\n\nCities are strong, either by nature or by industrie, 205\n\nThe maner of fortificacion, 205\n\nBulwarkes ought not to be made oute of a towne distante from the same,\n207\n\nExample of Genoa, 208\n\nOf the Countes Catherin, 208\n\nThe fation of percullesies used in Almaine, 210\n\nHowe the battelmentes of walles were made at the first, and how thei are\nmade now adaies, 210\n\nThe provisions that is mete to bee made, for the defence of a towne, 212\n\nDivers pollicies, for the beseginge and defendinge of a toune or\nfortres, 214\n\nSecrete conveing of letters, 219\n\nThe defence againste a breache, 219\n\nGenerall rules of warre, 222\n\n\n\n\nTHE FIRST BOOKE\n\nOF THE ARTE OF WARRE OF\n\nNICHOLAS MACHIAVEL, CITEZEIN\n\nAND SECRETARIE OF FLORENCE,\n\nUNTO\n\nLAURENCE PHILIP STROZZE\n\nONE OF THE NOBILTIE\n\nOF FLORENCE.\n\n\n\n\nTHE FIRST BOOKE\n\n\nForasmuch as I beleve that after death, al men maie be praised without\ncharge, al occasion and suspecte of flatterie beyng taken awaie, I shal\nnot doubte to praise our Cosimo Ruchellay, whose name was never\nremembred of me without teares, havyng knowen in him those condicions,\nthe whiche in a good frende or in a citezien, might of his freendes, or\nof his countrie, be desired: for that I doe not knowe what thyng was so\nmuche his, not excepting any thing (saving his soule) which for his\nfrendes willingly of him should not have been spent: I knowe not what\nenterprise should have made him afraide, where the same should have ben\nknowen to have been for the benefite of his countrie. And I doe painly\nconfesse, not to have mette emongest so many men, as I have knowen, and\npractised withal, a man, whose minde was more inflamed then his, unto\ngreat and magnificent thynges. Nor he lamented not with his frendes of\nany thyng at his death, but because he was borne to die a yong manne\nwithin his owne house, before he had gotten honour, and accordynge to\nhis desire, holpen any manne: for that he knewe, that of him coulde not\nbe spoken other, savyng that there should be dead a good freende. Yet it\nresteth not for this, that we, and what so ever other that as we did\nknow him, are not able to testifie (seeyng his woorkes doe not appere)\nof his lawdable qualities. True it is, that fortune was not for al this,\nso muche his enemie, that it left not some brief record of the\nreadinesse of his witte, as doeth declare certaine of his writinges, and\nsettyng foorthe of amorous verses, wherin (although he were not in love)\nyet for that he would not consume time in vain, til unto profounder\nstudies fortune should have brought him, in his youthfull age he\nexercised himselfe. Whereby moste plainly maie be comprehended, with how\nmoche felicitie he did describe his conceiptes, and how moche for\nPoetrie he should have ben estemed, if the same for the ende therof, had\nof him ben exercised. Fortune having therfore deprived us from the use\nof so great a frende, me thinketh there can bee founde no other remedie,\nthen as muche as is possible, to seke to enjoye the memorie of the same,\nand to repeate suche thynges as hath been of him either wittely saied,\nor wisely disputed. And for as much as there is nothyng of him more\nfreshe, then the reasonyng, the whiche in his last daies Signior\nFabricio Collonna, in his orchard had with him, where largely of the\nsame gentilman were disputed matters of warre, bothe wittely and\nprudently, for the moste parte of Cosimo demaunded, I thought good, for\nthat I was present there with certain other of our frendes, to bring it\nto memorie, so that reading the same, the frendes of Cosimo, whiche\nthether came, might renewe in their mindes, the remembraunce of his\nvertue: and the other part beyng sorie for their absence, might partly\nlearne hereby many thynges profitable, not onely to the life of\nSouldiours, but also to civil mennes lives, which gravely of a moste\nwise man was disputed. Therfore I saie, that Fabricio Collonna\nretournyng out of Lombardie, where longe time greatly to his glorie, he\nhad served in the warres the catholike kyng, he determined, passyng by\nFlorence, to rest himself certain daies in the same citee, to visite the\nDukes excellencie, and to see certaine gentilmen, whiche in times paste\nhe had been acquainted withal. For whiche cause, unto Cosimo it was\nthought beste to bid him into his orchard, not so muche to use his\nliberalitee, as to have occasion to talke with him at leasure, and of\nhim to understande and to learne divers thinges, accordyng as of suche a\nman maie bee hoped for, semyng to have accasion to spende a daie in\nreasonyng of suche matters, which to his minde should best satisfie him.\nThen Fabricio came, accordyng to his desire, and was received of Cosimo\ntogether, with certain of his trustie frendes, emongest whome wer Zanoby\nBuondelmonti, Baptiste Palla, and Luigi Allamanni, all young men loved\nof him and of the very same studies moste ardente, whose good qualities,\nfor as muche as every daie, and at every houre thei dooe praise\nthemselves, we will omit. Fabricio was then accordyng to the time and\nplace honoured, of all those honours, that thei could possible devise:\nBut the bankettyng pleasures beyng passed, and the tabel taken up, and\nal preparacion of feastinges consumed, the which are sone at an ende in\nsight of greate men, who to honorable studies have their mindes set, the\ndaie beyng longe, and the heate muche, Cosimo judged for to content\nbetter his desire, that it wer well doen, takyng occasion to avoide the\nheate, to bring him into the moste secret, and shadowest place of his\ngarden. Where thei beyng come, and caused to sit, some upon herbes, some\nin the coldest places, other upon litle seates which there was ordeined,\nunder the shadow of moste high trees, Fabricio praiseth the place, to be\ndelectable, and particularly consideryng the trees, and not knowyng some\nof them, he did stande musinge in his minde, whereof Cosimo beeyng a\nware saied, you have not peradventure ben acquainted with some of these\nsortes of trees: But doe not marvell at it, for as muche as there bee\nsome, that were more estemed of the antiquitie, then thei are commonly\nnow a daies: and he tolde him the names of them, and how Barnardo his\ngraundfather did travaile in suche kinde of plantyng: Fabricio replied,\nI thought it shuld be the same you saie, and this place, and this\nstudie, made me to remember certaine Princes of the Kyngdome of Naples,\nwhiche of these anncient tillage and shadow doe delight. And staiyng\nupon this talke, and somewhat standyng in a studdie, saied moreover, if\nI thought I should not offende, I woud tell my opinion, but I beleeve I\nshall not, commonyng with friendes, and to dispute of thynges, and not\nto condemne them. How much better thei should have doen (be it spoken\nwithout displeasure to any man) to have sought to been like the\nantiquitie in thinges strong, and sharpe, not in the delicate and softe:\nand in those that thei did in the Sunne, not in the shadowe: and to take\nthe true and perfecte maners of the antiquitie: not those that are false\nand corrupted: for that when these studies pleased my Romaines, my\ncountrie fell into ruin. Unto which Cosimo answered. But to avoide the\ntediousnesse to repeate so many times he saied, and the other answered,\nthere shall be onely noted the names of those that speakes, without\nrehersing other.\n\nThen COSIMO saied, you have opened the waie of a reasoning, which I have\ndesired, and I praie you that you will speake withoute respecte, for\nthat that I without respecte will aske you, and if I demaundyng, or\nrepliyng shall excuse, or accuse any, it shal not be to excuse, or\naccuse, but to understande of you the truth.\n\nFABRICIO. And I shall be very well contented to tell you that, whiche I\nunderstand of al the same that you shall aske me, the whiche if it shall\nbe true, or no, I wil report me to your judgemente: and I will be glad\nthat you aske me, for that I am to learne, as well of you in askyng me,\nas you of me in aunswerynge you: for as muche as many times a wise\ndemaunder, maketh one to consider many thynges, and to knowe many other,\nwhiche without havyng been demaunded, he should never have knowen.\n\nCOSIMO. I will retourne to thesame, that you said first, that my\ngraundfather and those your Princes, should have doen more wisely, to\nhave resembled the antiquitie in hard thinges, then in the delicate, and\nI will excuse my parte, for that, the other I shall leave to excuse for\nyou. I doe not beleve that in his tyme was any manne, that so moche\ndetested the livyng in ease, as he did, and that so moche was a lover of\nthe same hardenesse of life, whiche you praise: notwithstandyng he knewe\nnot how to bee able in persone, nor in those of his sonnes to use it,\nbeeyng borne in so corrupte a worlde, where one that would digresse from\nthe common use, should bee infamed and disdained of every man:\nconsideryng that if one in the hottest day of Summer being naked, should\nwallowe hymself upon the Sande, or in Winter in the moste coldest\nmonethes upon the snowe, as Diogenes did, he should be taken as a foole.\nIf one, (as the Spartans were wonte to doe) should nourishe his children\nin a village, makyng them to slepe in the open aire, to go with hedde\nand feete naked, to washe them selves in the colde water for to harden\nthem, to be able to abide moche paine, and for to make theim to love\nlesse life, and to feare lesse death, he should be scorned, and soner\ntaken as a wilde beast, then as a manne. If there wer seen also one, to\nnourishe himself with peason and beanes, and to despise gold, as\nFabricio doeth, he should bee praised of fewe, and followed of none: so\nthat he being afraied of this present maner of livyng, he left\nthauncient facions, and thesame, that he could with lest admiracion\nimitate in the antiquitie, he did.\n\nFABRICIO. You have excused it in this parte mooste strongly: and surely\nyou saie the truthe: but I did not speake so moche of this harde maner\nof livyng, as of other maners more humaine, and whiche have with the\nlife now a daies greater conformitie. The whiche I doe not beleve, that\nit hath been difficulte to bryng to passe unto one, who is nombred\nemongest Princes of a citee: for the provyng whereof, I will never seke\nother, then thexample of the Romaines. Whose lives, if thei wer well\nconsidred, and thorders of thesame common weale, there should therin be\nseen many thinges, not impossible to induce into a cominaltie, so that\nit had in her any good thing.\n\nCOSIMO. What thynges are those, that you would induce like unto the\nantiquitie.\n\nFABRICIO. To honour, and to reward vertue, not to despise povertie, to\nesteme the maners and orders of warfare, to constrain the citezeins to\nlove one an other, to live without sectes, to esteme lesse the private,\nthan the publike, and other like thinges, that easily might bee with\nthis time accompanied: the which maners ar not difficult to bring to\npasse, when a man should wel consider them, and entre therin by due\nmeanes: for asmoche as in thesame, the truth so moche appereth, that\nevery common wit, maie easely perceive it: which thing, who that\nordeineth, doth plant trees, under the shadowe wherof, thei abide more\nhappie, and more pleasantly, then under these shadowes of this goodly\ngardeine.\n\nCOSIMO. I will not speake any thyng againste thesame that you have\nsaied, but I will leave it to bee judged of these, whom easely can\njudge, and I will tourne my communicacion to you, that is an accusar of\ntheim, the whiche in grave, and greate doynges, are not followers of the\nantiquitie, thinkyng by this waie more easely to be in my entent\nsatisfied. Therfore, I would knowe of you whereof it groweth, that of\nthe one side you condempne those, that in their doynges resemble not the\nantiquitie? Of the other, in the warre, whiche is your art, wherin you\nare judged excellent, it is not seen, that you have indevoured your\nself, to bryng the same to any soche ende, or any thyng at all resembled\ntherein the auncient maners.\n\nFABRICIO. You are happened upon the poincte, where I loked: for that my\ntalke deserved no other question: nor I desired other: and albeit that I\ncould save my self with an easie excuse, not withstandyng for my more\ncontentacion, and yours, seyng that the season beareth it, I will enter\nin moche longer reasoning. Those men, whiche will enterprise any thyng,\nought firste with all diligence to prepare theim selves, to be ready and\napte when occasion serveth, to accomplish that, which thei have\ndetermined to worke: and for that when the preparacions are made\ncraftely, thei are not knowen, there cannot be accused any man of any\nnegligence, if firste it be not disclosed by thoccasion: in the which\nworking not, is after seen, either that there is not prepared so moche\nas suffiseth, or that there hath not been of any part therof thought\nupon. And for as moche as to me there is not come any occasion to be\nable, to shewe the preparacions made of me, to reduce the servise of\nwarre into his auncient orders, if I have not reduced it, I cannot be of\nyou, nor of other blamed: I beleve this excuse shuld suffise for answere\nto your accusement.\n\nCOSIMO. It should suffice, when I wer certain, that thoccasion were not\ncome.\n\nFABRICIO. But for that I know, that you maie doubt whether this occasion\nhath been cum, or no, I will largely (when you with pacience will heare\nme) discourse what preparacions are necessary first to make, what\noccasion muste growe, what difficultie doeth let, that the preparacions\nhelp not, and why thoccasion cannot come, and how these things at ones,\nwhich some contrary endes, is most difficill, and most easie to do.\n\nCOSIMO. You cannot do bothe to me, and unto these other, a thing more\nthankfull then this. And if to you it shall not be tedious to speake,\nunto us it shal never be grevous to heare: but for asmoch as this\nreasonyng ought to be long, I will with your license take helpe of these\nmy frendes: and thei, and I praie you of one thyng, that is, that you\nwill not bee greved, if some tyme with some question of importaunce, we\ninterrupte you.\n\n[Sidenote: Why a good man ought never to use the exercise of armes, as\nhis art.]\n\nFABRICIO. I am moste well contented, that you Cosimo with these other\nyounge men here, doe aske me: for that I beleve, that youthfulnes, will\nmake you lovers of warlike thinges, and more easie to beleve thesame,\nthat of me shalbe saied. These other, by reason of havyng nowe their\nhedde white, and for havyng upon their backes their bloude congeled,\nparte of theim are wonte to bee enemies of warre, parte uncorrectable,\nas those, whom beleve, that tymes, and not the naughtie maners,\nconstraine men to live thus: so that safely aske you all of me, and\nwithout respecte: the whiche I desire, as well, for that it maie be unto\nme a little ease, as also for that I shall have pleasure, not to leave\nin your mynde any doubt. I will begin at your woordes, where you saied\nunto me, that in the warre, that is my arte, I had not indevoured to\nbryng it to any aunciente ende: whereupon I saie, as this beyng an arte,\nwhereby men of no maner of age can live honestly, it cannot bee used for\nan arte, but of a common weale: or of a kyngdome: and the one and the\nother of these, when thei bee well ordeined, will never consente to any\ntheir Citezeins, or Subjectes, to use it for any arte, nor never any\ngood manne doeth exercise it for his particulare arte: for as moche as\ngood he shall never bee judged, whom maketh an excersise thereof, where\npurposing alwaies to gaine thereby, it is requisite for hym to be\nravenyng, deceiptfull, violente, and to have many qualities, the whiche\nof necessitie maketh hym not good: nor those menne cannot, whiche use it\nfor an arte, as well the greate as the leaste, bee made otherwise: for\nthat this arte doeth not nourishe them in peace. Wherfore thei ar\nconstrained either to thinke that there is no peace, or so moche to\nprevaile in the tyme of warre, that in peace thei maie bee able to kepe\nthem selves: and neither of these two thoughtes happeneth in a good man:\nfor that in mindyng to bee able to finde himself at all tymes, dooe\ngrowe robberies, violence, slaughters, whiche soche souldiours make as\nwell to the frendes, as to the enemies: and in mindyng not to have\npeace, there groweth deceiptes, whiche the capitaines use to those,\nwhiche hire them, to the entent the warre maie continue, and yet though\nthe peace come often, it happeneth that the capitaines beyng deprived of\ntheir stipendes, and of their licencious livyng, thei erecte an ansigne\nof adventures, and without any pitie thei put to sacke a province. Have\nnot you in memorie of your affaires, how that beyng many Souldiours in\nItalie without wages, bicause the warre was ended, thei assembled\ntogether many companies, and went taxyng the tounes, and sackyng the\ncountrie, without beyng able to make any remedie? Have you not red, that\nthe Carthagenes souldiours, the first warre beyng ended which thei had\nwith the Romaines, under Matho, and Spendio, twoo capitaines,\nrebelliously constituted of theim, made more perillous warre to the\nCarthaginens, then thesame whiche thei had ended with the Romaines? In\nthe time of our fathers, Frances Sforza, to the entente to bee able to\nlive honourably in the time of peace, not only beguiled the Millenars,\nwhose souldiour he was, but he toke from them their libertie and became\ntheir Prince. Like unto him hath been all the other souldiours of Italie\nwhiche have used warfare, for their particulare arte, and albeeit thei\nhave not through their malignitie becomen Dukes of Milein, so moche the\nmore thei deserve to bee blamed: for that although thei have not gotten\nso moch as he, thei have all (if their lives wer seen) sought to bring\nthe like thynges to passe. Sforza father of Fraunces, constrained Quene\nJone, to caste her self into the armes of the king of Aragon, havyng in\na sodain forsaken her, and in the middest of her enemies, lefte her\ndisarmed, onely to satisfie his ambicion, either in taxyng her, or in\ntakyng from her the Kyngdome. Braccio with the verie same industrie,\nsought to possesse the kyngdome of Naples, and if he had not been\noverthrowen and slaine at Aquila, he had brought it to passe. Like\ndisorders growe not of other, then of soche men as hath been, that use\nthe exercise of warfare, for their proper arte. Have not you a Proverbe,\nwhiche fortefieth my reasons, whiche saieth, that warre maketh Theves,\nand peace hangeth theim up? For as moche as those, whiche knowe not how\nto live of other exercise, and in the same finding not enie man to\nsustayne theym, and havyng not so moche power, to knowe how to reduce\ntheim selves together, to make an open rebellion, they are constrayned\nof necessetie to Robbe in the highe waies, and Justice is enforced to\nextinguishe theim.\n\nCOSIMO. You have made me to esteme this arte of warfare almoste as\nnothyng, and I have supposed it the moste excellentes, and moste\nhonourableste that hath been used: so that if you declare me it not\nbetter, I cannot remaine satisfied: For that when it is thesame, that\nyou saie, I knowe not, whereof groweth the glorie of Cesar, of Pompei,\nof Scipio, of Marcello, and of so many Romaine Capitaines, whiche by\nfame are celebrated as Goddes.\n\nFABRICIO. I have not yet made an ende of disputyng al thesame, that I\npurposed to propounde: whiche were twoo thynges, the one, that a good\nmanne could not use this exercise for his arte: the other, that a common\nweale or a kingdome well governed, did never permitte, that their\nSubjectes or Citezeins should use it for an arte. Aboute the firste, I\nhave spoken as moche as hath comen into my mynde: there remaineth in me\nto speake of the seconde where I woll come to aunswere to this your\nlaste question, and I saie that Pompey and Cesar, and almoste all those\nCapitaines, whiche were at Rome, after the laste Carthagenens warre,\ngotte fame as valiaunt men, not as good, and those whiche lived before\nthem, gotte glorie as valiaunte and good menne: the whiche grewe, for\nthat these tooke not the exercise of warre for their arte: and those\nwhiche I named firste, as their arte did use it. And so longe as the\ncommon weale lived unspotted, never any noble Citezein would presume, by\nthe meane of soche exercise, to availe thereby in peace, breakyng the\nlawes, spoilyng the Provinces, usurpyng, and plaiyng the Tyraunte in the\ncountrie, and in every maner prevailyng: nor any of how lowe degree so\never thei were, would goe aboute to violate the Religion, confederatyng\ntheim selves with private men, not to feare the Senate, or to followe\nany tirannicall insolence, for to bee able to live with the arte of\nwarre in all tymes. But those whiche were Capitaines, contented with\ntriumphe, with desire did tourne to their private life, and those whiche\nwere membres, would be more willyng to laie awaie their weapons, then to\ntake them, and every manne tourned to his science, whereby thei gotte\ntheir livyng: Nor there was never any, that would hope with praie, and\nwith this arte, to be able to finde theim selves. Of this there maie be\nmade concernyng Citezeins, moste evidente conjecture, by the ensample of\nRegolo Attillio, who beyng Capitain of the Romaine armies in Affrica,\nand havyng as it wer overcome the Carthegenens, he required of the\nSenate, licence to retourne home, to kepe his possessions, and told\nthem, that thei were marde of his housbandmen. Whereby it is more clere\nthen the Sunne, that if thesame manne had used the warre as his arte,\nand by meanes thereof, had purposed to have made it profitable unto him,\nhavyng in praie so many Provinces, he would not have asked license, to\nreturne to kepe his feldes: for as moche as every daie he might\notherwise, have gotten moche more, then the value of al those\npossessions: but bicause these good men and soche as use not the warre\nfor their arte, will not take of thesame any thing then labour,\nperilles, and gloris, when thei are sufficiently glorious, thei desire\nto returne home, and to live of their owne science. Concernyng menne of\nlowe degree, and common souldiours, to prove that thei kepte the verie\nsame order, it doeth appeare that every one willingly absented theim\nselves from soche exercise, and when thei served not in the warre, thei\nwould have desired to serve, and when thei did serve, thei would have\ndesired leave not to have served: whiche is wel knowen through many\ninsamples, and inespecially seeyng how emonge the firste privileges,\nwhiche the Romaine people gave to their Citezeins was, that thei should\nnot be constrained against their willes, to serve in the warres.\nTherefore Rome so long as it was well governed, whiche was untill the\ncommyng of Graccus, it had not any Souldiour that would take this\nexercise for an arte, and therefore it had fewe naughtie, and those few\nwer severely punished. Then a citee well governed, ought to desire, that\nthis studie of warre, be used in tyme of peace for exercise, and in the\ntime of warre, for necessitie and for glorie: and to suffer onely the\ncommon weale to use it for an arte, as Rome did, and what so ever\nCitezein, that hath in soche exercise other ende, is not good, and what\nso ever citee is governed otherwise, is not well ordeined.\n\nCOSIMO. I remain contented enough and satisfied of thesame, whiche\nhetherto you have told, and this conclusion pleaseth me verie wel whiche\nyou have made, and as muche as is loked for touching a common welth, I\nbeleve that it is true, but concerning Kinges, I can not tell nowe, for\nthat I woulde beleve that a Kinge would have about him, whome\nparticularly should take suche exercise for his arte.\n\nFABRICIO. A kingdome well ordred ought moste of all to avoide the like\nkinde of men, for only thei, are the destruction of their king, and all\ntogether ministers of tiranny, and alledge me not to the contrarie anie\npresente kingdome, for that I woll denie you all those to be kingdomes\nwell ordered, bicause the kingdomes whiche have good orders, give not\ntheir absolute Empire unto their king, saving in the armies, for as much\nas in this place only, a quicke deliberation is necessarie, and for this\ncause a principall power ought to be made. In the other affaires, he\nought not to doe any thing without councell, and those are to be feared,\nwhich councell him, leaste he have some aboute him which in time of\npeace desireth to have warre bicause they are not able without the same\nto live, but in this, I wilbe a little more large: neither to seke a\nkingdome altogether good, but like unto those whiche be nowe a daies\nwhere also of a king those ought to be feared, whiche take the warre for\ntheire art, for that the strength of armies without any doubte are the\nfoote menne: so that if a king take not order in suche wise, that his\nmen in time of peace may be content to returne home, and to live of\ntheir owne trades, it will follow of necessitie, that he ruinate: for\nthat there is not found more perilous men, then those, whiche make the\nwarre as their arte: bicause in such case, a king is inforsed either\nalwaies to make warre, or to paie them alwaies, or else to bee in\nperill, that they take not from him his kingdome. To make warre alwaies,\nit is not possible: to paie them alwaies it can not be: see that of\nnecessitie, he runneth in peril to lese the state. The Romaines (as I\nhave saide) so long as they were wise and good, would never permitte,\nthat their Citizeins should take this exercise for their arte, although\nthey were able to nurrishe them therin alwaies, for that that alwaies\nthey made warre: but to avoide thesame hurte, whiche this continuall\nexercise might doe them, seyng the time did not varie, they changed the\nmen, and from time to time toke such order with their legions, that in\nxv. yeres alwaies, they renewed them: and so thei had their men in the\nfloure of their age, that is from xviij. to xxxiij. yeres, in which time\nthe legges, the handes, and the yes answere the one the other, nor thei\ntarried not till there strengthe should decaie, and there naghtines\nincrease, as it did after in the corrupted times. For as muche as\nOctavian first, and after Tiberius, minding more their own proper power,\nthen the publicke profite, began to unarme the Romaine people, to be\nable easely to commaunde them, and to kepe continually those same armies\non the frontries of the Empire: and bicause also they judged those, not\nsufficient to kepe brideled the people and Romaine Senate, they ordeined\nan armie called Pretoriano, which laie harde by the walles of Rome, and\nwas as a rocke on the backe of the same Citie. And for as much as then\nthei began frely to permitte, that suche men as were apoincted in suche\nexercises, should use the service of warre for their arte, streight waie\nthe insolence of theim grewe, that they became fearful unto the Senate,\nand hurtefull to the Emperour, whereby ensued suche harme, that manie\nwere slaine thorough there insolensie: for that they gave, and toke\nawaie the Empire, to whome they thought good. And some while it hapned,\nthat in one self time there were manie Emperours, created of divers\narmies, of whiche thinges proceded first the devision of the Empire, and\nat laste the ruine of the same. Therefore kinges ought, if thei wil live\nsafely, to have there souldiours made of men, who when it is time to\nmake warre, willingly for his love will go to the same, and when the\npeace cometh after, more willingly will returne home. Whiche alwaies\nwilbe, when thei shalbe men that know how to live of other arte then\nthis: and so they ought to desire, peace beyng come, that there Prince\ndoo tourne to governe their people, the gentilmen to the tending of\nthere possessions, and the common souldiours to their particular arte,\nand everie one of these, to make warre to have peace, and not to seke to\ntrouble the peace, to have warre.\n\nCOSIMO. Truely this reasonyng of yours, I thinke to bee well considered,\nnotwithstanding beyng almost contrarie to that, whiche till nowe I have\nthought, my minde as yet doeth not reste purged of all doubte, for as\nmuche as I see manie Lordes and gentelmen, to finde them selves in time\nof peace, thorough the studies of warre, as your matches bee, who have\nprovision of there princes, and of the cominaltie. I see also, almost al\nthe gentelmen of armes, remaine with neir provision, I see manie\nsouldiours lie in garison of Cities and fortresses, so that my thinkes,\nthat there is place in time of peace, for everie one.\n\nFABRICIO. I doe not beleve that you beleve this, that in time of peace\neverie man may have place, bicause, put case that there coulde not be\nbrought other reason, the small number, that all they make, whiche\nremaine in the places alledged of you, would answer you. What proporcion\nhave the souldiours, whiche are requiset to bee in the warre with those,\nwhiche in the peace are occupied? For as much as the fortreses, and the\ncities that be warded in time of peace, in the warre are warded muche\nmore, unto whome are joyned the souldiours, whiche kepe in the fielde,\nwhiche are a great number, all whiche in the peace be putte awaie. And\nconcerning the garde of states, whiche are a small number, Pope July,\nand you have shewed to everie man, how muche are to be feared those, who\nwill not learne to exercise any other art, then the warre, and you have\nfor there insolence, deprived them from your garde, and have placed\ntherin Swisers, as men borne and brought up under lawes, and chosen of\nthe cominaltie, according to the true election: so that saie no more,\nthat in peace is place for everie man. Concerning men at armes, thei al\nremaining in peace with their wages, maketh this resolution to seme more\ndifficulte: notwithstandyng who considereth well all, shall finde the\nanswere easie, bicause this manner of keping men of armes, is a\ncorrupted manner and not good, the occasion is, for that they be men,\nwho make thereof an arte, and of them their should grow every daie a\nthousande inconveniencies in the states, where thei should be, if thei\nwere accompanied of sufficient company: but beyng fewe, and not able by\nthem selves to make an armie, they cannot often doe suche grevous\nhurtes, neverthelesse they have done oftentimes: as I have said of\nFrances, and of Sforza his father, and of Braccio of Perugia: so that\nthis use of keping men of armes, I doe not alowe, for it is a corrupte\nmaner, and it may make great inconveniencies.\n\nCOSIMO. Woulde you live without them? or keping them, how would you kepe\nthem?\n\n[Sidenote: A kinge that hath about him any that are to much lovers of\nwarre, or to much lovers of peace shal cause him to erre.]\n\nFABRICIO. By waie of ordinaunce, not like to those of the king of\nFraunce: for as muche as they be perilous, and insolent like unto ours,\nbut I would kepe them like unto those of the auncient Romaines, whom\ncreated their chivalry of their own subjectes, and in peace time, thei\nsente them home unto their houses, to live of their owne trades, as more\nlargely before this reasoning ende, I shal dispute. So that if now this\npart of an armie, can live in such exercise, as wel when it is peace, it\ngroweth of the corrupt order. Concerning the provisions, which are\nreserved to me, and to other capitaines, I saie unto you, that this\nlikewise is an order moste corrupted: for as much as a wise common\nweale, ought not to give such stipendes to any, but rather thei ought to\nuse for Capitaines in the warre, their Citezeins, and in time of peace\nto will, that thei returne to their occupations. Likewise also, a wise\nking either ought not to give to suche, or giving any, the occasion\nought to be either for rewarde of some worthy dede, or else for the\ndesire to kepe suche a kinde of man, as well in peace as in warre. And\nbicause you alledged me, I will make ensample upon my self, and saie\nthat I never used the warre as an arte, for as muche as my arte, is to\ngoverne my subjectes, and to defende them, and to be able to defende\nthem, to love peace, and to know how to make warre, and my kinge not so\nmuche to rewarde and esteeme me, for my knowledge in the warre, as for\nthe knowledge that I have to councel him in peace. Then a king ought not\nto desire to have about him, any that is not of this condicion if he be\nwise, and prudently minde to governe: for that, that if he shal have\nabout him either to muche lovers of peace, or to much lovers of warre,\nthey shall make him to erre. I cannot in this my firste reasoning, and\naccording to my purpose saie more, and when this suffiseth you not, it\nis mete, you seke of them that may satisfie you better. You maie now\nverie well understand, how difficulte it is to bringe in use the\nauncient maners in the presente warres, and what preparations are mete\nfor a wise man to make, and what occasions ought to be loked for, to be\nable to execute it. But by and by, you shall know these things better,\nif this reasoning make you not werie, conferring what so ever partes of\nthe auncient orders hath ben, to the maners nowe presente.\n\nCOSIMO. If we desired at the first to here your reason of these thinges,\ntruly thesame whiche hetherto you have spoken, hath doubled our desire:\nwherefore we thanke you for that we have hard, and the rest, we crave of\nyou to here.\n\nFABRICIO. Seyng that it is so your pleasure, I will begin to intreate of\nthis matter from the beginning, to the intent it maye be better\nunderstode, being able by thesame meane, more largely to declare it. The\nende of him that wil make warre, is to be able to fight with every enemy\nin the fielde and to be able to overcum an armie. To purpose to doe\nthis, it is convenient to ordeine an hoost. To ordein an hoost, their\nmust be found menne, armed, ordered, and as well in the small, as in the\ngreat orders exercised, to knowe howe to kepe araie, and to incampe, so\nthat after bringing them unto the enemie, either standing or marching,\nthey maie know how to behave themselves valiantly. In this thing\nconsisteth all the industrie of the warre on the lande, whiche is the\nmost necessarie, and the most honorablest, for he that can wel order a\nfielde against the enemie, the other faultes that he should make in the\naffaires of warre, wilbe borne with: but he that lacketh this knowledge,\nalthough that in other particulars he be verie good, he shal never bring\na warre to honor: for as muche as a fielde that thou winnest, lesing?\nimg 94 doeth cancell all other thy evill actes: so like wise lesing it,\nall thinges well done of thee before, remaine vaine. Therfore, beyng\nnecessarie first to finde the menne, it is requiset to come to the\nchoise of them. They whiche unto the warre have given rule, will that\nthe menne be chosen out of temperate countries, to the intente they may\nhave hardines, and prudence, for as muche as the hote countrey, bredes\nprudente men and not hardy, the colde, hardy, and not prudente. This\nrule is good to be geven, to one that were prince of all the world,\nbicause it is lawfull for him to choose men out of those places, whiche\nhe shall thinke beste. But minding to give a rule, that every one may\nuse, it is mete to declare, that everie common weale, and every\nkingdome, ought to choose their souldiours out of their owne countrie,\nwhether it be hote, colde, or temperate: for that it is scene by olde\nensamples, how that in every countrie with exercise, their is made good\nsouldiours: bicause where nature lacketh, the industry supplieth, the\nwhich in this case is worthe more, then nature, and taking them in other\nplaces, you shal not have of the choise, for choise is as much to saie,\nas the best of a province, and to have power to chuse those that will\nnot, as well as those that wil serve. Wherfore, you muste take your\nchoise in those places, that are subjecte unto you, for that you cannot\ntake whome you liste, in the countries that are not yours, but you muste\ntake suche as will goe with you.\n\nCOSIMO. Yet there maie bee of those, that will come, taken and lefte,\nand therefore, thei maie be called chosen.\n\n[Sidenote: Oute of what Countrie is best to chuse Souldiours to make a\ngood election.]\n\nFABUICIO. You saie the truthe in a certaine maner, but consider the\nfaultes, whiche soche a chosen manne hath in himselfe, for that also\nmany times it hapneth, that he is not a chosen manne. For those that are\nnot thy subjectes, and whiche willyngly doe serve, are not of the beste,\nbut rather of the worste of a Province, for as moche as if any be\nsclanderous, idell, unruly, without Religion, fugetive from the rule of\ntheir fathers, blasphemours, Dise plaiers, in every condicion evill\nbrought up, bee those, whiche will serve, whose customes cannot be more\ncontrarie, to a true and good servise: Albeit, when there bee offered\nunto you, so many of soche men, as come to above the nomber, that you\nhave appoincted, you maie chuse them: but the matter beyng naught, the\nchoise is not possible to be good: also, many times it chaunceth, that\nthei be not so many, as will make up the nomber, whereof you have nede,\nso that beyng constrained to take them al, it commeth to passe, that\nthei cannot then bee called chosen men, but hired Souldiours. With this\ndisorder the armies of Italie, are made now a daies, and in other\nplaces, except in Almaine, bicause there thei doe not hire any by\ncommaundemente of the Prince, but accordyng to the will of them, that\nare disposed to serve. Then consider now, what maners of those aunciente\narmies, maie bee brought into an armie of men, put together by like\nwaies.\n\nCOSIMO. What waie ought to bee used then?\n\nFABRICIO. The same waie that I saied, to chuse them of their owne\nsubjectes, and with the auethoritie of the Prince.\n\nCOSMO. In the chosen, shall there bee likewise brought in any auncient\nfacion?\n\nFABRICIO. You know well enough that ye: when he that should commaunde\ntheim, were their Prince, or ordinarie lorde, whether he were made\nchief, or as a Citezein, and for the same tyme Capitaine, beyng a common\nweale, otherwise it is harde to make any thyng good.\n\nCOSIMO. Why?\n\nFABRICIO. I will tell you a nane: For this time I will that this suffise\nyou, that it cannot be wrought well by other waie.\n\n[Sidenote: Whether it be better to take menne oute of townes or out of\nthe countrie to serve.]\n\nCOSIMO. Having then to make this choyse of men in their owne countries,\nwhether judge you that it be better to take them oute of the citie, or\nout of the countrie?\n\nFABRICIO. Those that have written of such matters, doe all agree, that\nit is best to chuse them out of the countrie, being men accustomed to no\nease, nurished in labours, used to stonde in the sunne, to flie the\nshadow, knowing how to occupy the spade, to make a diche, to carrie a\nburden, and to bee without any deceite, and without malisiousnes. But in\nthis parte my opinion should be, that beyng two sortes of souldiours, on\nfoote, and on horsebacke, that those on foote, should be chosen out of\nthe countrie, and those on horseback, oute of the Cities.\n\n[Sidenote: Of what age Souldiours ought to bee chosen.]\n\nCOSIMO. Of what age would you choose them?\n\nFABRICIO. I would take them, when I had to make a newe armie, from xvii.\nto xl. yeres: when it were made alredy, and I had to restore them, of\nxvii. alwaies.\n\nCOSIMO. I doe not understonde well this distinction.\n\nFABRICIO. I shall tell you: when I should ordaine an hooste to make\nwarre, where were no hooste alredy, it should be necessarie to chuse all\nthose men, which were most fitte and apte for the warre, so that they\nwere of servisable age, that I might bee able to instructe theim, as by\nme shalbe declared: but when I would make my choise of menne in places,\nwhere a powre were alredy prepared, for suppliyng of thesame, I would\ntake them of xvii. yeres: for as much as the other of more age be alredy\nchosen and apoincted.\n\nCOSIMO. Then woulde you prepare a power like to those whiche is in our\ncountrie?\n\nFABRICIO. Ye truly, it is so that I would arme them, Captaine them,\nexercise and order them in a maner, whiche I cannot tell, if you have\nordred them so.\n\nCOSIMO. Then do you praise the keping of order?\n\nFABRICIO. Wherefore would you that I should dispraise it?\n\nCOSIMO. Bicause many wise menne have alwaies blamed it.\n\nFABRICIO. You speake against all reason, to saie that a wise man blameth\norder, he maie bee well thought wise, and be nothyng so.\n\nCOSIMO. The naughtie profe, which it hath alwaies, maketh us to have\nsoche opinion thereof.\n\nFABRICIO. Take hede it be not your fault, and not the kepyng of order,\nthe whiche you shall knowe, before this reasonyng be ended.\n\nCOSIMO. You shall doe a thyng moste thankfull, yet I will saie\nconcernyng thesame, that thei accuse it, to the entente you maie the\nbetter justifie it. Thei saie thus, either it is unprofitable, and we\ntrustyng on the same, shall make us to lese our state, or it shall be\nverteous, and by thesame meane, he that governeth may easely deprive us\nthereof. Thei alledge the Romaines, who by meane of their owne powers,\nloste their libertie. Thei alledge the Venicians, and the Frenche king,\nwhiche Venicians, bicause thei will not be constrained, to obeie one of\ntheir owne Citezeins, use the power of straungers: and the Frenche kyng\nhath disarmed his people, to be able more easely to commaunde them, but\nthei whiche like not the ordinaunces, feare moche more the\nunprofitablenesse, that thei suppose maie insue thereby, then any thyng\nels: the one cause whiche thei allege is, bicause thei are unexperte:\nThe other, for that thei have to serve par force: for asmoche as thei\nsaie, that the aged bee not so dissiplinable, nor apte to learne the\nfeate of armes, and that by force, is doen never any thyng good.\n\n[Sidenote: By what meanes souldiours bee made bolde and experte.]\n\nFABRICIO. All these reasons that you have rehearsed, be of men, whiche\nknoweth the thyng full little, as I shall plainly declare. And firste,\nconcernyng the unprofitablenesse, I tell you, that there is no service\nused in any countrie more profitable, then the service by the Subjectes\nof thesame nor thesame service cannot bee prepared, but in this maner:\nand for that this nedeth not to be disputed of, I will not lese moche\ntyme: bicause al thensamples of auncient histores, make for my purpose,\nand for that thei alledge the lacke of experience, and to use\nconstraint: I saie how it is true, that the lacke of experience, causeth\nlacke of courage, and constrainte, maketh evill contentacion: but\ncourage, and experience thei are made to gette, with the maner of armyng\ntheim, exercisyng, and orderyng theim, as in proceadyng of this\nreasonyng, you shall heare. But concernyng constrainte, you ought to\nunderstande, that the menne, whiche are conducted to warfare, by\ncommaundement of their Prince, thei ought to come, neither altogether\nforced, nor altogether willyngly, for as moche as to moche willyngnesse,\nwould make thinconveniencies, where I told afore, that he should not be\na chosen manne, and those would be fewe that would go: and so to moche\nconstraint, will bring forth naughtie effectes. Therefore, a meane ought\nto be taken, where is not all constrainte, nor all willingnesse: but\nbeyng drawen of a respecte, that thei have towardes their Prince, where\nthei feare more the displeasure of thesame, then the presente paine: and\nalwaies it shall happen to be a constrainte, in maner mingled with\nwillingnesse, that there cannot growe soche evil contentacion, that it\nmake evill effectes. Yet I saie not for all this, that it cannot bee\novercome, for that full many tymes, were overcome the Romaine armies,\nand the armie of Aniball was overcome, so that it is seen, that an armie\ncannot be ordained so sure, that it cannot be overthrowen. Therefore,\nthese your wise men, ought not to measure this unprofitablenesse, for\nhavyng loste ones, but to beleve, that like as thei lese, so thei maie\nwinne, and remeadie the occasion of the losse: and when thei shall seke\nthis thei shall finde, that it hath not been through faulte of the waie,\nbut of the order, whiche had not his perfeccion and as I have saied,\nthei ought to provide, not with blamyng the order, but with redressing\nit, the whiche how it ought to be doen, you shall understande, from\npoinct to poinct. Concernyng the doubte, leste soche ordinaunces, take\nnot from thee thy state, by meane of one, whiche is made hedde therof, I\nanswere, that the armure on the backes of citezeins, or subjectes, given\nby the disposicion of order and lawe, did never harme, but rather\nalwaies it doeth good, and mainteineth the citee, moche lenger in\nsuretie, through helpe of this armure, then without. Rome continued free\nCCCC. yeres, and was armed. Sparta viii.C. Many other citees have been\ndisarmed, and have remained free, lesse then xl. For as moche as citees\nhave nede of defence, and when thei have no defence of their owne, thei\nhire straungers, and the straunges defence, shall hurte moche soner the\ncommon weale, then their owne: bicause thei be moche easier to be\ncorrupted, and a citezein that becommeth mightie, maie moche soner\nusurpe, and more easely bryng his purpose to passe, where the people bee\ndisarmed, that he seketh to oppresse: besides this, a citee ought to\nfeare a greate deale more, twoo enemies then one. Thesame citee that\nuseth straungers power, feareth at one instant the straunger, whiche it\nhireth, and the Citezein: and whether this feare ought to be, remember\nthesame, whiche I rehearsed a little a fore of Frances Sforza. That\ncitee, whiche useth her own proper power, feareth no man, other then\nonely her owne Citezein. But for all the reasons that maie bee saied,\nthis shall serve me, that never any ordeined any common weale, or\nKyngdome, that would not thinke, that thei theim selves, that inhabite\nthesame, should with their sweardes defende it.\n\nAnd if the Venicians had been so wise in this, as in all their other\norders, thei should have made a new Monarchie in the world, whom so\nmoche the more deserve blame, havyng been armed of their first giver of\nlawes: for havyng no dominion on the lande, thei wer armed on the sea,\nwhere thei made their warre vertuously, and with weapons in their\nhandes, increased their countrie. But when thei were driven to make\nwarre on the lande, to defende Vicenza, where thei ought to have sent\none of their citezens, to have fought on the lande, thei hired for their\ncapitain, the Marques of Mantua: this was thesame foolishe acte, whiche\ncut of their legges, from climyng into heaven, and from enlargyng their\ndominion: and if thei did it, bicause thei beleved that as thei knewe,\nhow to make warre on the Sea, so thei mistrusted theim selves, to make\nit on the lande, it was a mistruste not wise: for as moche as more\neasely, a capitain of the sea, whiche is used to fight with the windes,\nwith the water, and with men, shall become a Capitaine of the lande,\nwhere he shall fight with men onely, then a capitaine of the lande, to\nbecome a capitain of the sea. The Romanies knowyng how to fight on the\nlande, and on the sea, commyng to warre, with the Carthaginens, whiche\nwere mightie on the sea, hired not Grekes, or Spaniardes, accustomed to\nthe sea, but thei committed thesame care, to their Citezeins, whiche\nthei sent on the land, and thei overcame. If thei did it, for that one\nof their citezeins should not become a tiraunt, it was a feare smally\nconsidered: for that besides thesame reasons, whiche to this purpose, a\nlittle afore I have rehearsed, if a Citezein with the powers on the sea,\nwas never made a tiraunt in a citee standyng in the sea, so moche the\nlesse he should have been able to accomplishe this with the powers of\nthe lande: whereby thei ought to se that the weapons in the handes of\ntheir Citezeins, could not make tirantes: but the naughtie orders of the\ngovernement, whiche maketh tirannie in a citee, and thei havyng good\ngovernement, thei nede not to feare their owne weapons: thei toke\ntherefore an unwise waie, the whiche hath been occasion, to take from\nthem moche glorie, and moche felicitie. Concernyng the erroure, whiche\nthe kyng of Fraunce committeth not kepyng instructed his people in the\nwarre, the whiche those your wise men alledge for ensample, there is no\nman, (his particulare passions laied a side) that doeth not judge this\nfault, to be in thesame kyngdome, and this negligence onely to make hym\nweake. But I have made to greate a digression, and peradventure am come\nout of my purpose, albeit I have doen it to aunswere you, and to shewe\nyou, that in no countrie, there can bee made sure foundacion, for\ndefence in other powers but of their owne subjectes: and their own\npower, cannot be prepared otherwise, then by waie of an ordinaunce, nor\nby other waie, to induce the facion of an armie in any place, nor by\nother meane to ordein an instruction of warfare. If you have red the\norders, whiche those first kynges made in Rome, and inespecially Servio\nTullo, you shall finde that the orders of the Classi is no other, then\nan ordinaunce, to bee able at a sodaine, to bryng together an armie, for\ndefence of thesame citee. But let us retourne to our choise, I saie\nagaine, that havyng to renewe an olde order, I would take them of xvii.\nhavyng to make a newe armie, I would take them of all ages, betwene\nxvii. and xl. to be able to warre straight waie.\n\n[Sidenote: Of what science soldiours ought to bee chosen.]\n\nCOSIMO. Would you make any difference, of what science you would chuse\nthem?\n\nFABRICIO. The aucthours, which have written of the arte of warre, make\ndifference, for that thei will not, that there bee taken Foulers,\nFishers, Cookes, baudes, nor none that use any science of\nvoluptuousnesse. But thei will, that there bee taken Plowmen, Ferrars,\nSmithes, Carpenters, Buchars, Hunters, and soche like: but I would make\nlittle difference, through conjecture of the science, concernyng the\ngoodnesse of the man, notwithstandyng, in as moche as to be able with\nmore profite to use theim, I would make difference, and for this cause,\nthe countrie men, which are used to till the grounde, are more\nprofitable then any other. Next to whom be Smithes, Carpentars, Ferrars,\nMasons, wherof it is profitable to have enough: for that their\noccupacions, serve well in many thynges: beyng a thyng verie good to\nhave a souldiour, of whom maie be had double servise.\n\n[Sidenote: Howe to chose a souldiour.]\n\nCOSIMO. Wherby doe thei knowe those, that be, or are not sufficient to\nserve.\n\nFABRICIO. I will speake of the maner of chusing a new ordinaunce, to\nmake an armie after, for that parte of this matter, doeth come also to\nbe reasoned of, in the election, which should be made for the\nreplenishing, or restoring of an old ordinaunce. I saie therfore, that\nthe goodnesse of one, whiche thou muste chuse for a Souldiour, is knowen\neither by experience, thorough meane of some of his worthy doynges, or\nby conjecture. The proofe of vertue, cannot be founde in men whiche are\nchosen of newe, and whiche never afore have ben chosen, and of these are\nfounde either fewe or none, in the ordinaunce that of newe is ordeined.\nIt is necessarie therefore, lackyng this experience, to runne to the\nconjecture, whiche is taken by the yeres, by the occupacion, and by the\npersonage: of those two first, hath been reasoned, there remaineth to\nspeake of the thirde. And therefore, I saie how some have willed, that\nthe souldiour bee greate, emongest whom was Pirrus. Some other have\nchosen theim onely, by the lustinesse of the body, as Cesar did: whiche\nlustinesse of bodie and mynde, is conjectured by the composicion of the\nmembers, and of the grace of the countenaunce: and therefore, these that\nwrite saie, that thei would have the iyes lively and cherefull, the\nnecke full of sinowes, the breaste large, the armes full of musculles,\nthe fingers long, little beallie, the flankes rounde, the legges and\nfeete drie: whiche partes are wont alwayes to make a manne nimble and\nstrong, whiche are twoo thynges, that in a souldiour are sought above al\nother. Regarde ought to bee had above all thynges, to his customes, and\nthat in hym bee honestie, and shame: otherwise, there shall bee chosen\nan instrumente of mischief, and a beginnyng of corrupcion: for that\nlette no manne beleve that in the dishoneste educacion, and filthy\nminde, there maie take any vertue, whiche is in any parte laudable. And\nI thinke it not superfluous, but rather I beleve it to bee necessarie,\nto the entente you maie the better understande, the importaunce of this\nchosen, to tell you the maner that the Romaine Consuls, in the beginnyng\nof their rule, observed in the chosing of their Romain legions: in the\nwhiche choise of men, bicause thesame legions were mingled with old\nsouldiours and newe, consideryng the continuall warre thei kepte, thei\nmight in their choise procede, with the experince of the old, and with\nthe conjecture of the newe: and this ought to be noted, that these men\nbe chosen, either to serve incontinently, or to exercise theim\nincontinently, and after to serve when nede should require. But my\nintencion is to shew you, how an armie maie be prepared in the countrie,\nwhere there is no warlike discipline: in which countrie, chosen men\ncannot be had, to use them straight waie, but there, where the custome\nis to levie armies, and by meane of the Prince, thei maie then well bee\nhad, as the Romaines observed, and as is observed at this daie emong the\nSuisers: bicause in these chosen, though there be many newe menne, there\nbe also so many of the other olde Souldiours, accustomed to serve in the\nwarlike orders, where the newe mingled together with the olde, make a\nbodie united and good, notwithstanding, that themperours after,\nbeginning the staciones of ordinarie Souldiours, had appoincted over the\nnewe souldiours, whiche were called tironi, a maister to exercise theim,\nas appeareth in the life of Massimo the Emperour. The whiche thyng,\nwhile Rome was free, not onely in the armies, but in the citee was\nordeined: and the exercises of warre, beyng accustomed in thesame, where\nthe yong men did exercise, there grewe, that beyng chosen after to goe\ninto warre, thei were so used in the fained exercise of warfare, that\nthei could easely worke in the true: but those Emperours havyng after\nput doune these exercises, thei wer constrained to use the waies, that I\nhave shewed you. Therefore, comyng to the maner of the chosen Romain, I\nsaie that after the Romain Consulles (to whom was appoincted the charge\nof the warre) had taken the rule, myndyng to ordeine their armies, for\nthat it was the custome, that either of them should have twoo Legions of\nRomaine menne, whiche was the strength of their armies, thei created\nxxiiii. Tribunes of warre, and thei appoincted sixe for every Legion,\nwhom did thesame office, whiche those doe now a daies, that we call\nConestables: thei made after to come together, all the Romain men apte\nto beare weapons and thei put the Tribunes of every Legion, seperate the\none from the other. Afterwarde, by lot thei drewe the Tribes, of whiche\nthei had firste to make the chosen, and of thesame Tribe thei chose\nfower of the best, of whiche was chosen one of the Tribunes, of the\nfirst Legion, and of the other three was chosen, one of the Tribunes of\nthe second Legion, of the other two there was chosen one of the Tribunes\nof the third, and the same last fell to the fowerth Legion. After these\niiij, thei chose other fower, of which, first one was chosen of the\nTribunes of the seconde Legion, the seconde of those of the thirde, the\nthirde of those of the fowerth, the fowerth remained to the first.\nAfter, thei chose other fower, the first chose the thirde, the second\nthe fowerth, the thirde the fiveth, the fowerth remained to the seconde:\nand thus thei varied successively, this maner of chosyng, so that the\nelection came to be equall, and the Legions wer gathered together: and\nas afore we saied, this choise might bee made to use straighte waie, for\nthat thei made them of men, of whom a good parte were experiensed in the\nverie warfare in deede, and all in the fained exercised, and thei might\nmake this choise by conjecture, and by experience. But where a power\nmust be ordeined of newe, and for this to chuse them out of hande, this\nchosen cannot be made, saving by conjecture, whiche is taken by\nconsideryng their ages and their likelinesse.\n\nCOSIMO. I beleve all to be true, as moche as of you hath been spoken:\nbut before that you procede to other reasonyng, I woll aske of you one\nthing, which you have made me to remember: saiyng that the chosen, that\nis to be made where men were not used to warre, ought to be made by\nconjecture: for asmoche as I have heard some men, in many places\ndispraise our ordinaunce, and in especially concernyng the nomber, for\nthat many saie, that there ought to bee taken lesse nomber, whereof is\ngotten this profite, that thei shall be better and better chosen, and\nmen shal not be so moche diseased, so that there maie bee given them\nsome rewarde, whereby thei maie bee more contented, and better bee\ncommaunded, whereof I would understande in this parte your opinion, and\nwhether you love better the greate nomber, than the little, and what\nwaie you would take to chuse theim in the one, and in the other nomber.\n\nFABRICIO. Without doubte it is better, and more necessary, the great\nnomber, then the little: but to speake more plainly, where there cannot\nbe ordeined a great nomber of men, there cannot be ordeined a perfect\nordinaunce: and I will easely confute all the reasons of them\npropounded. I saie therefore firste, that the lesse nomber where is many\npeople, as is for ensample Tuscane, maketh not that you have better, nor\nthat the chosen be more excellent, for that myndyng in chosing the\nmenne, to judge them by experience, there shall be founde in thesame\ncountrie moste fewe, whom experience should make provable, bothe for\nthat fewe hath been in warre, as also for that of those, mooste fewe\nhave made triall, whereby thei might deserve to bee chosen before the\nother: so that he whiche ought in like places to chuse, it is mete he\nleave a parte the experience, and take them by conjecture. Then being\nbrought likewise into soche necessitie, I would understande, if there\ncome before me twentie young men of good stature, with what rule I ought\nto take, or to leave any: where without doubte, I beleve that every man\nwill confesse, how it is lesse errour to take them al, to arme theim and\nexercise theim, beyng not able to knowe, whiche of theim is beste, and\nto reserve to make after more certaine chosen, when in practisyng theim\nwith exercise, there shall be knowen those of moste spirite, and of\nmoste life: which considered, the chusing in this case a fewe, to have\nthem better, is altogether naught.\n\nConcernyng diseasing lesse the countrie, and men, I saie that the\nordinaunce, either evill or little that it bee, causeth not any disease,\nfor that this order doeth not take menne from any of their businesse, it\nbindeth them not, that thei cannot go to doe any of their affaires: for\nthat it bindeth them onely in the idell daies, to assemble together, to\nexercise them, the whiche thyng doeth not hurt, neither to the countrie,\nnor to the men, but rather to yong men it shall bryng delite: For that\nwhere vilie on the holy daies thei stande idell in tipplyng houses, thei\nwill go for pleasure to those exercises, for that the handlyng of\nweapons, as it is a goodly spectacle, so unto yong men it is pleasaunt.\nConcernyng to bee able to paie the lesse nomber, and for this to kepe\ntheim more obediente, and more contented, I answere, how there cannot be\nmade an ordinaunce of so fewe, whiche maie be in maner continually\npaied, where thesame paiment of theirs maie satisfie them. As for\nensample, if there were ordeined a power of v. thousande men, for to\npaie them after soche sorte, that it might be thought sufficient, to\ncontent them, it shal bee convenient to give theim at least, ten\nthousaunde crounes the moneth: first, this nomber of men are not able to\nmake an armie, this paie is intolerable to a state, and of the other\nside, it is not sufficiente to kepe men contented, and bounde to be able\nto serve at al times: so that in doyng this, there shall be spent moche,\nand a small power kept, whiche shall not be sufficient to defend thee,\nor to doe any enterprise of thine. If thou shouldest give theim more, or\nshouldest take more, so moche more impossibilitie it should be, for thee\nto paie theim: if thou shouldest give them lesse, or should take lesse,\nso moche the lesse contentacion should be in them, or so moche the lesse\nprofite thei shal bring thee. Therfore, those that reason of makyng an\nordinaunce, and whilest thei tary at home to paie them, thei reason of a\nthing either impossible, or unprofitable, but it is necessarie to paie\nthem, when thei are taken up to be led to the warre: albeit, though\nsoche order should somewhat disease those, in time of peace, that are\nappoincted in thesame, which I se not how, there is for recompence all\nthose benefites, whiche a power brynges, that is ordeined in a countrie:\nfor that without thesame, there is nothyng sure. I conclude, that he\nthat will have the little nomber, to be able to paie them, or for any of\nthe other causes alledged of you, doeth not understande, for that also\nit maketh for my opinion, that every nomber shall deminishe in thy\nhandes, through infinite impedimentes, whiche men have: so that the\nlittle nomber shall tourne to nothing: again havyng thordinaunce greate,\nthou maiest at thy pleasure use fewe of many, besides this, it must\nserve thee in deede, and in reputacion and alwaies the great nomber\nshall give thee moste reputacion. More over, makyng the ordinaunce to\nkepe menne exercised, if thou appoincte a fewe nomber of men in many\ncountries, the handes of men bee so farre a sonder, the one from the\nother, that thou canst not without their moste grevous losse, gather\nthem together to exercise them, and without this exercise, the\nordinaunce is unprofitable, as hereafter shall be declared.\n\nCOSIMO. It suffiseth upon this my demaunde, that whiche you have saied:\nbut I desire now, that you declare me an other doubt. Thei saie, that\nsoche a multitude of armed men, will make confusion, discension and\ndisorder in the countrie where thei are.\n\n[Sidenote: How to provid againste soche inconveniences as souldiours\nmaie cause.]\n\nFABRICIO. This is an other vaine opinion, the cause wherof, I shall tell\nyou: soche as are ordeined to serve in the warres, maie cause disorder\nin twoo maners, either betwene them selves, or against other, whiche\nthinges moste easely maie be withstode, where the order of it self,\nshould not withstande it: for that concernyng the discorde emong theim\nselves, this order taketh it waie, and doeth not nourishe it, for that\nin orderyng them, you give them armour and capitaines. If the countrie\nwhere you ordein them, bee so unapte for the warre, that there are not\narmours emong the men of thesame, and that thei bee so united, that thei\nhave no heddes, this order maketh theim moche fearser against the\nstraunger, but it maketh them not any thyng the more disunited, for that\nmen well ordered, feare the lawe beyng armed, as well as unarmed, nor\nthei can never alter, if the capitaines, which you give them, cause not\nthe alteracion, and the waie to make this, shall be tolde now: but if\nthe countrie where you ordein them, be warlike and disunited, this order\nonely shal be occasion to unite them: bicause this order giveth them\narmours profitable for the warre, and heddes, extinguishers of\ndiscencion: where their owne armours bee unprofitable for the warres,\nand their heddes nourishers of discorde. For that so sone as any in\nthesame countrie is offended, he resorteth by and by to his capitain to\nmake complaint, who for to maintain his reputacion, comforteth hym to\nrevengement not to peace. To the contrary doeth the publike hed, so that\nby this meanes, thoccasion of discorde is taken awaie, and the occasion\nof union is prepared, and the provinces united and effeminated, gette\nutilitie, and maintain union: the disunited and discencious, doe agree,\nand thesame their fearsnesse, which is wont disordinately to worke, is\ntourned into publike utilitie. To minde to have them, to doe no hurt\nagainst other, it ought to bee considered, that thei cannot dooe this,\nexcept by meane of the heddes, whiche governe them. To will that the\nheddes make no disorder, it is necessarie to have care, that thei get\nnot over them to much auctoritie. And you must consider that this\nauctoritie, is gotten either by nature, or by accidente: and as to\nnature, it behoveth to provide, that he which is boren in one place, be\nnot apoincted to the men billed in the same, but be made hedde of those\nplaces, where he hath not any naturall aquaintance: and as to the\naccident, the thing ought to be ordeined in suche maner, that every yere\nthe heddes maie be changed from governement to goverment: for as muche\nas the continuall auctoritie over one sorte of menne, breedeth among\nthem so muche union, that it maie turne easely to the prejudice of the\nPrince: whiche permutations howe profitable they be to those who have\nused theim, and hurtefull to them that have not observed theim, it is\nwell knowen by the kingdome of the Assirians, and by the Empire of the\nRomaines: where is seene, that the same kingdome indured a M. yeres\nwithout tumulte, and without any Civill warre: whiche preceded not of\nother, then of the permutations, whiche from place to place everie yere\nthesame Capitaines made, unto whome were apoincted the charge of the\nArmies. Nor for any other occasion in the Romaine Empire, after the\nbloud of Cesar was extinguished, there grewe so many civill warres,\nbetwene the Capitaines of the hostes, and so many conspiracies of the\nforsaied capitaines against the Emperours, not onely kepyng continually\nstill those capitaines alwayes in one governement. And if in some of\nthose firste Emperoures, of those after, whom helde the Empire with\nreputacion, as Adriane, Marcus, Severus, and soche like, there had been\nso moche foresight, that thei had brought this custome of chaungyng the\ncapitaines in thesame Empire, without doubte it should have made theim\nmore quiete, and more durable: For that the Capitaines should have had\nlesse occasion to make tumultes, the Emperours lesse cause to feare, and\nthe senate in the lackes of the successions, should have had in the\nelection of the Emperour, more aucthoritie, and by consequence should\nhave been better: but the naughtie custome, either for ignoraunce, or\nthrough the little diligence of menne, neither for the wicked, nor good\nensamples, can be taken awaie.\n\nCOSIMO. I cannot tell, if with my questionyng, I have as it were led you\nout of your order, bicause from the chusyng of men, we be entred into an\nother matter, and if I had not been a little before excused, I should\nthinke to deserve some reprehension.\n\n[Sidenote: The nomber of horsemen, that the Romanies chose for a Legion,\nand for a Consailes armie.]\n\nFABRICIO. Let not this disquiete you, for that all this reasonyng was\nnecessary, myndyng to reason of the ordinaunce, the which beyng blamed\nof many, it was requsite to excuse it, willyng to have this first parte\nof chusyng men to be alowed. But now before I discend to the other\npartes, I will reason of the choise of men on horsebacke. Of the\nantiquitie, these were made of the moste richeste, havyng regard bothe\nto the yeres, and to the qualitie of the man, and thei chose CCC. for a\nLegion, so that the Romain horse, in every Consulles armie, passed not\nthe nomber of vi. C.\n\nCOSIMO. Would you make an ordinaunce of hors, to exercise them at home,\nand to use their service when nede requires?\n\n[Sidenote: The choosing and ordering of horsemen, that is to be observed\nat this present.]\n\nFABRICIO. It is most necessary, and it cannot be doen otherwise, minding\nto have the power, that it be the owne proper, and not to purpose to\ntake of those, which make thereof an art.\n\nCOSIMO. How would you choose them?\n\nFABRICIO. I would imitate the Romans, I would take of the richest, I\nwould give them heads or chief Captains, in the same manner, as nowadays\nto other is given, and I would arm them and exercise them.\n\nCOSIMO. To these should it be well to give some provision?\n\nFABRICIO. Yea marie, but so much only as is necessary to keep the horse,\nfor as much as bringing to thy subjects expenses, they might justly\ncomplain of thee, therefore it should be necessary, to pay them their\ncharges of their horse.\n\nCOSIMO. What number would you make? and how would you arme them?\n\nFABRICIO. You pass into another matter. I will tell you in convenient\nplace, which shall be when I have told you, how footmen ought to be\narmed, and how a power of men is prepared, for a day of battle.\n\n\n\n\nTHE SECOND BOOKE\n\n\n[Sidenote: Howe the Romaines armed their souldiers and what weapons thei\nused.]\n\nI beleeve that it is necessarye, men being founde, to arme them, and\nminding to doo this, I suppose that it is a needefull thing to examine,\nwhat armoure the antiquitie used, and of the same to chose the best. The\nRomanes devided their foote men in heavie and lighte armed: Those that\nwere light armed, they called by the name of Veliti: Under this name\nwere understoode all those that threwe with Slinges, shot with\nCrossebowes, cast Dartes, and they used the most parte of them for their\ndefence, to weare on their heade a Murion, with a Targaet on their arme:\nthey fought out of the orders, and farre of from the heavie armed, which\ndid weare a head peece, that came downe to their shoulders, a Corselet,\nwhich with the tases came downe to the knees, and they had the legges\nand armes, covered with greaves, and vambraces, with a targaet on the\nleft arme, a yarde and a halfe long, and three quarters of a yarde\nbrode, whiche had a hoope of Iron upon it, to bee able to sustaine a\nblowe, and an other under, to the intente, that it being driven to the\nearth, it should not breake: for to offende, they had girte on their\nleft flanke a swoorde, the length of a yearde and a naile, on their\nrighte side, a Dagger: they had a darte in every one of their handes,\nthe which they called Pilo, and in the beginning of the fight, they\nthrewe those at the enemie. This was the ordering, and importaunce of\nthe armours of the Romanes, by the which they possessed all the world.\nAnd although some of these ancient writers gave them, besides the\nforesayde weapons, a staffe in their hande like unto a Partasen, I\ncannot tell howe a heavy staff, may of him that holdeth a Targaet be\noccupied: for that to handle it with both hands, the Targaet should bee\nan impediment, and to occupye the same with one hande, there can be done\nno good therewith, by reason of the weightynesse thereof: besides this,\nto faight in the strong, and in the orders with such long kinde of\nweapon, it is unprofitable, except in the first front, where they have\nspace enough, to thrust out all the staffe, which in the orders within,\ncannot be done, for that the nature of the battaile (as in the order of\nthe same, I shall tell you) is continually to throng together, which\nalthough it be an inconvenience, yet in so doing they fear lesse, then\nto stande wide, where the perill is most evident, so that all the\nweapons, which passe in length a yarde and a halfe, in the throng, be\nunprofitable: for that, if a man have the Partasen, and will occupye it\nwith both handes, put case that the Targaet let him not, he can not\nhurte with the same an enemy, whom is upon him, if he take it with one\nhande, to the intent to occupy also the Targaet, being not able to take\nit, but in the middest, there remayneth so much of the staff behind,\nthat those which are behinde him, shall let him to welde it. And whether\nit were true, either that the Romans had not this Partasen, or that\nhaving it, did little good withal, read all the battailes, in the\nhistorye thereof, celebrated of Titus Livius, and you shall see in the\nsame, most seldom times made mencion of Partasens, but rather alwaies he\nsaieth, that the Dartes being thrown, they laid their hands on their\nsweardes. Therefore I will leave this staffe, and observe, concerning\nthe Romanes, the swoorde for to hurte, and for defense the Targaet, with\nthe other armours aforesaide.\n\n[Sidenote: A brave and a terrible thing to the enemies.]\n\nThe Greekes did not arme them selves so heavyly, for their defense, as\nthe Romans dyd: but for to offend the enemies, they grounded more on\ntheir staves, then on their swoordes, and in especiallye the Fallangye\nof Macedonia, which used staves, that they called Sarisse, seven yardes\nand a halfe long, with the which they opened the rankes of their\nenemies, and they keept the orders in their Fallangy. And although some\nwriters saie, that they had also the Targaet, I can not tell (by the\nreasons aforesayde) howe the Sarisse and they coulde stande together.\nBesides this, in the battaile that Paulus Emilius made, with Persa king\nof Macedonia, I do not remember, that there is made any mention of\nTargaettes, but only of the Sarisse, and of the difficultie that the\nRomane armie had, to overcome them: so that I conjecture, that a\nMacedonicall Fallange, was no other wise, then is now a dayes a battaile\nof Suizzers, the whiche in their Pikes have all their force, and all\ntheir power. The Romanes did garnish (besides the armours) the footemen\nwith feathers; the whiche thinges makes the fight of an armie to the\nfriendes goodly, to the enemies terrible. The armour of the horsemen, in\nthe same first Romane antiquitie, was a rounde Targaet, and they had\ntheir head armed, and the rest unarmed: They had a swoorde and a staffe,\nwith an Iron head onely before, long and small: whereby it happened,\nthat they were not able to staye the Targaet, and the staffe in the\nincountring broke, and they through being unarmed, were subjecte to\nhurtes: after, in processe of time, they armed them as the footemen,\nalbeit they used the Targaette muche shorter, square, and the staffe\nmore stiffe, and with twoo heades, to the entente, that breaking one of\nthe heades, they mighte prevaile with the other. With these armours as\nwell on foote, as on horsebacke, the Romanes conquered all the worlde,\nand it is to be beleeved, by the fruiet thereof, whiche is seene, that\nthey were the beste appointed armies, that ever were: and Titus Livius\nin his history, doeth testifie verye often, where comming to comparison\nwith the enemies armies, he saieth: But the Romanes, by vertue, by the\nkinde of their armours, and piactise in the service of warre, were\nsuperiours: and therfore I have more particularly reasoned of the\narmours of conquerours, then of the conquered. But nowe mee thikes good,\nto reason onelye of the manner of arming men at this presente. Footemen\nhave for their defence, a breast plate, and for to offende, a launce,\nsixe yardes and three quarters long, which is called a pike, with a\nswoorde on their side, rather rounde at the poinct, then sharpe. This is\nthe ordinarie arming of footemen nowe a dayes, for that fewe there be,\nwhich have their legges armed, and their armes, the heade none, and\nthose fewe, beare insteede of a Pike, a Halberde, the staffe whereof as\nyou know, is twoo yardes and a quarter long, and it hath the Iron made\nlike an axe. Betweene them, they have Harkebutters, the which with the\nviolence of the fire, do the same office, which in olde time the\nslingers did, and the Crosseboweshoters. This maner of arming, was found\nout by the Dutchemen, inespeciallye of Suizzers, whom being poore, and\ndesirous to live free, they were, and be constrayned to fight, with the\nambition of the Princes of Almaine, who being riche, were able to keepe\nhorse, the which the same people could not do for povertye. Wherby it\ngrewe, that being on foote, minding to defende them selves from the\nenemies, that were on horsebacke, it behooveth them to seeke of the\naunciente orders, and to finde weapons, whiche from the furie of horses,\nshould defende them: This necessitie hath made either to be maintayned,\nor to bee founde of them the aunciente orders, without whiche, as everye\nprudente man affirmeth, the footemen is altogether unprofitable.\nTherefore, they tooke for their weapon the Pike, a moste profitable\nweapon, not only to withstande horses, but to overcome them: and the\nDutchemen have by vertue of these weapons, and of these orders, taken\nsuch boldnesse, that XV. or XX. thousande of them, will assault the\ngreatest nomber of horse that maye be: and of this, there hath beene\nexperience enough within this XXV. yeres. And the insamples of their\nvertue hath bene so mightie, grounded upon these weapons, and these\norders, that sence King Charles passed into Italie, everye nation hath\nimitated them: so that the Spanish armies, are become into most great\nreputation.\n\nCOSIMO. Which maner of arming, do you praise moste, either these\nDutchemens, or the auncient Romanes?\n\n[Sidenote: Whether the Romanes maner in arming of men, be better then\nthe arming of men, that is used nowe a daies.]\n\nFABRICIO. The Romane without doubte, and I will tell the commoditie, and\nthe discommoditie of the one, and the other. The Dutche footemen, are\nable to withstande, and overcome the horses: they bee moste speedie to\nmarche, and to be set in araye, being not laden with armours: of the\nother part, they be subjecte to all blowes, both farre of, and at hande:\nbecause they be unarmed, they bee unprofitable unto the battaile on the\nlande, and to everye fighte, where is strong resistaunce. But the\nRomanes withstoode, and overcame the horses, as well as the Dutchemen,\nthey were safe from blowes at hande, and farre of, being covered with\narmours: they were also better able to charge, and better able to\nsustaine charges, having Targaettes: they might more aptly in the preace\nfight with the swoorde, then these with the Pike, and though the\nDutchemen have likewise swoordes, yet being without Targaets, they\nbecome in suche case unprofitable: The Romanes might safelye assault\ntownes, having their bodies cleane covered with armour, and being better\nable to cover themselves with their Targaettes. So that they had no\nother incommoditie, then the waightynesse of their armours, and the pain\nto cary them: the whiche thinges thei overcame, with accustomyng the\nbody to diseases, and with hardenyng it, to bee able to indure labour.\nAnd you knowe, how that in thinges accustomed, men suffer no grief. And\nyou have to understand this, that the footemen maie be constrained, to\nfaight with footemen, and with horse, and alwaies those be unprofitable,\nwhiche cannot either sustain the horses, or beyng able to sustain them,\nhave notwithstandyng neede to feare the footemen, whiche be better\narmed, and better ordeined then thei. Now if you consider the Duchemen,\nand the Romaines, you shall finde in the Duchemen activitie (as we have\nsaid) to overcome the horses, but greate dissavauntage, when thei\nfaighte with menne, ordeined as thei them selves are, and armed as the\nRomaines were: so that there shall be this advauntage more of the one,\nthen of thother, that the Romaines could overcome the men, and the\nhorses, the Duchemen onely the horses.\n\nCOSIMO. I would desire, that you would come to some more particulare\ninsample, whereby wee maie better understande.\n\n[Sidenote: An ensample whiche proveth that horsemen with staves, cannot\nprevaile against footemen with Pikes, and what great advauntage the\narmed have, againste the unarmed. The victory of Carminvola against the\nDuchemen.]\n\nFABRICIO. I saie thus, that you shall finde in many places of our\nhistories, the Romain footemen to have overcome innumerable horses, and\nyou shall never finde, that thei have been overcome of men on foote, for\ndefault that thei have had in their armour, or thorowe the vantage that\nthe enemie hath had in the armours: For that if the maner of their\narmyng, should have had defaulte, it had been necessarie, that there\nshould folowe, the one of these twoo thynges, either that findyng soche,\nas should arme theim better then thei, thei should not have gone still\nforwardes, with their conquestes, or that thei should have taken the\nstraungers maners, and should have left their owne, and for that it\nfolowed not in the one thing, nor in the other, there groweth that ther\nmaie be easely conjectured, that the maner of their armyng, was better\nthen thesame of any other. It is not yet thus happened to the Duchemen,\nfor that naughtie profe, hath ben seen made them, when soever thei have\nchaunsed to faight with men on foote prepared, and as obstinate as thei,\nthe whiche is growen of the vauntage, whiche thesame have incountred in\nthenemies armours. Philip Vicecounte of Milaine, being assaulted of\nxviii. thousande Suizzers, sent against theim the Counte Carminvola,\nwhiche then was his capitaine. He with sixe thousande horse, and a fewe\nfootemen, went to mete with them, and incounteryng theim, he was\nrepulsed with his moste greate losse: wherby Carminvola as a prudente\nman, knewe straight waie the puisaunce of the enemies weapons, and how\nmoche against the horses thei prevailed, and the debilitie of the\nhorses, againste those on foote so appoincted: and gatheryng his men\ntogether again, he went to finde the Suizzers, and so sone as he was\nnere them, he made his men of armes, to a light from their horse, and in\nthesame mane, faightyng with them he slue theim all, excepte three\nthousande: the whiche seyng them selves to consume, without havyng\nreamedy, castyng their weapons to the grounde, yelded.\n\nCOSIMO. Whereof cometh so moche disavauntage?\n\n[Sidenote: The battailes when thei are a faightyng, doe throng\ntogether.]\n\nFABRICIO. I have a little afore tolde you, but seyng that you have not\nunderstoode it, I will rehearse it againe. The Duchemen (as a little\nbefore I saied unto you) as it were unarmed, to defende themselves, have\nto offende, the Pike and the swearde: thei come with these weapons, and\nwith their orders to finde the enemies, whom if thei bee well armed, to\ndefende theim selves, as were the menne of armes of Carminvola, whiche\nmade theim a lighte on foote, thei come with the sweard, and in their\norders to find them, and have no other difficultie, then to come nere to\nthe Suizzers, so that thei maie reche them with the sweard, for that so\nsone as thei have gotten unto them, thei faight safely: for asmoche as\nthe Duch man cannot strike thenemie with the Pike, whom is upon him, for\nthe length of the staffe, wherefore it is conveniente for hym, to put\nthe hande to the sweard, the whiche to hym is unprofitable, he beyng\nunarmed, and havyng against hym an enemie, that is all armed. Whereby he\nthat considereth the vantage, and the disavantage of the one, and of the\nother, shall see, how the unarmed, shall have no maner of remeady, and\nthe overcommyng of the firste faight, and to passe the firste poinctes\nof the Pikes, is not moche difficulte, he that faighteth beyng well\narmed: for that the battailes go (as you shall better understande, when\nI have shewed you, how thei are set together) and incounteryng the one\nthe other, of necessitie thei thrust together, after soche sorte, that\nthei take the one thother by the bosome, and though by the Pikes some\nbee slaine, or overthrowen, those that remain on their feete, be so\nmany, that thei suffice to obtaine the victorie. Hereof it grewe, that\nCarminvola overcame them, with so greate slaughter of the Suizzers, and\nwith little losse of his.\n\nCOSIMO. Consider that those of Carminvola, were men of armes, whom\nalthough thei wer on foote, thei were covered all with stele, and\ntherefore thei wer able to make the profe thei did: so that me thinkes,\nthat a power ought to be armed as thei, mindyng to make the verie same\nprofe.\n\nFABRICIO. If you should remember, how I tolde you the Romaines were\narmed, you would not thynke so: for as moche as a manne, that hath the\nhedde covered with Iron, the breaste defended of a Corselet, and of a\nTargaet, the armes and the legges armed, is moche more apt to defende\nhymself from the Pike, and to enter emong them, then a man of armes on\nfoote. I wil give you a little of a late ensample. There wer come out of\nCicelie, into the kyngdome of Naples, a power of Spaniardes, for to go\nto finde Consalvo, who was besieged in Barlet, of the Frenchemen: there\nmade against theim Mounsier de Vhigni, with his menne of armes, and with\naboute fower thousande Duchemen on foote: The Duchemen incountered with\ntheir Pikes lowe, and thei opened the power of the Spaniardes: but those\nbeyng holp, by meane of their bucklers and of the agiletie of their\nbodies, mingled togethers with the Duchemen, so that thei might reche\nthem with the swearde, whereby happened the death, almoste of all theim,\nand the victorie to the Spaniardes. Every man knoweth, how many Duchemen\nwere slaine in the battaile of Ravenna, the whiche happened by the verie\nsame occasion: for that the Spanishe souldiours, got them within a\nswerdes length of the Duche souldiours, and thei had destroied them all,\nif of the Frenche horsemen, the Duchemen on foote, had not been\nsuccored: notwithstandyng, the Spaniardes close together, brought\nthemselves into a safe place. I conclude therefore, that a good power\nought not onely to be able, to withstande the horses, but also not to\nhave fear of menne on foote, the which (as I have many tymes saied)\nprocedeth of the armours, and of the order.\n\n[Sidenote: How to arme men, and what weapons to appoincte theim, after\nthe Romaine maner, and Duche facion.]\n\nCOSIMO. Tell therefore, how you would arme them?\n\nFABRICIO. I would take of the Romaine armours, and of the Duchemennes\nweapons, and I would that the one haulfe, should bee appoincted like the\nRomaines, and the other haulfe like the Duchemen: for that if in sixe\nthousande footemen (as I shall tell you a little hereafter) I should\nhave thre thousande men with Targaettes, after the Romain maner, and two\nthousande Pikes, and a thousand Harkebutters, after the Duche facion,\nthei should sufice me: for that I would place the Pikes, either in the\nfronte of the battaile, or where I should feare moste the horses, and\nthose with the Targaetes and sweardes, shall serve me to make a backe to\nthe Pikes, and to winne the battaile, as I shall shewe you: so that I\nbeleeve, that a power thus ordayned, should overcome at this daye, any\nother power.\n\nCOSIMO. This which hath beene saide, sufficeth concerning footemen, but\nconcerning horsemen, wee desire to understand which you thinke more\nstronger armed, either ours, or the antiquitie.\n\n[Sidenote: The victorie of Lucullo, against Tiarane king of Armenia; For\nwhat pupose horsemen be most requisite.]\n\nFABRICIO. I beleeve that in these daies, having respect to the Saddelles\nbolstered, and to the stiroppes not used of the antiquitie, they stande\nmore stronglye on horsebacke, then in the olde time: I thinke also they\narme them more sure: so that at this daye, a bande of men of armes,\npaysing very muche, commeth to be with more difficultie withstoode, then\nwere the horsemen of old time: notwithstanding for all this, I judge,\nthat there ought not to be made more accompt of horses, then in olde\ntime was made, for that (as afore is sayde) manye times in our dayes,\nthey have with the footemen receyved shame and shall receyve alwayes,\nwhere they incounter, with a power of footemen armed, and ordered, as\nabove hath bene declared. Tigrane king of Armenia, had againste the\narmie of the Romanes, wherof was Capitayne Lucullo, CL. thousande\nhorsemen, amongest the whiche, were many armed, like unto our men of\narmes, which they called Catafratti, and of the other parte, the Romanes\nwere about sixe thousande, with xxv. thousand footemen: so that Tigrane\nseeing the armie of the enemies, saide: these be horses enough for an\nimbassage: notwithstanding, incountering together, he was overthrowen:\nand he that writeth of the same fighte, disprayseth those Catafratti,\ndeclaring them to be unprofitable; for that hee sayeth, because they had\ntheir faces covered, they had muche a doe to see, and to offende the\nenemie, and they falling, being laden with armour coulde not rise up\nagain, nor welde themselves in any maner to prevaile. I say therefore,\nthat those people or kingdomes, whiche shall esteeme more the power of\nhorses, then the power of footemen be alwaies weake, and subjecte to all\nruine, as by Italie hath been seene in our time, the whiche hath beene\ntaken, ruinated, and over run with straungers, through not other fault,\nthen for having taken litle care, of the service on foote, and being\nbrought the souldiours therof, all on horsebacke. Yet there ought to bee\nhad horses, but for seconde, and not for firste foundaion of an armie:\nfor that to make a discovery, to over run and to destroy the enemies\ncountrie, and to keepe troubled and disquieted, the armie of the same,\nand in their armours alwayes, to let them of their victuals, they are\nnecessary, and most profitable: but concerning for the daye of battaile,\nand for the fighte in the fielde, whiche is the importaunce of the\nwarre, and the ende, for which the armies are ordeined, they are more\nmeeter to follow the enemie being discomfited then to do any other thing\nwhich in the same is to be done, and they bee in comparison, to the\nfootemen much inferiour.\n\nCOSIMO. There is happened unto mee twoo doubtes, the one, where I knowe,\nthat the Parthians dyd not use in the warre, other then horses, and yet\nthey devided the worlde with the Romanes: the other is, that I woulde\nthat you should shewe, howe the horsemen can be withstoode of footemen,\nand wherof groweth the strength of these, and the debilitie of those?\n\n[Sidenote: The reason why footmen are able to overcome horsemen; How\nfootmen maie save them selves from horsemen; The exercise of Souldiours,\nought to be devided into thre partes; What exercises the auncient common\nweales used to exercise their youth in, and what commoditie insued\nthereby; How the antiquitie, learned their yong soldiours, to handell\ntheir weapons; What thantiquitie estemed moste happie in a common weale;\nMouster Maisters; for thexercisyng of yong men unexperte.]\n\nFABRICIO. Either I have tolde you, or I minded to tell you, howe that my\nreasoning of the affaires of warre, ought not to passe the boundes of\nEurope: when thus it is, I am not bounde unto you, to make accompte of\nthe same, which is used in Asia, yet I muste saye unto you thus, that\nthe warring of the Parthians, was altogether contrarye, to the same of\nthe Romanes: for as muche as the Parthians, warred all on horsebacke,\nand in the fight, they proceeded confusedlye, and scattered, and it was\na maner of fighte unstable, and full of uncertaintie. The Romanes were\n(it maye be sayde) almoste al on foote, and thei fought close together\nand sure, and thei overcame diversly, the one the other, according to\nthe largenesse, or straightnesse of the situation: for that in this the\nRomaines were superiours, in thesame the Parthians, whom might make\ngreate proofe, with thesame maner of warryng, consideryng the region,\nwhich thei had to defende, the which was moste large: for as moche as it\nhath the sea coaste, distant a thousande miles, the rivers thone from\nthother, twoo or three daies journey, the tounes in like maner and the\ninhabitauntes few: so that a Romaine armie heavie and slowe, by meanes\nof their armoures, and their orders, could not over run it, without\ntheir grevous hurt (those that defended it, being on horsebacke mooste\nexpedite) so that thei were to daie in one place, and to morowe distaunt\nfiftie miles. Hereof it grewe, that the Parthians might prevaile with\ntheir chivalrie onely, bothe to the ruine of the armie of Crassus, and\nto the perill of thesame, of Marcus Antonius: but I (as I have told you)\ndoe not intende in this my reasonyng, to speake of the warfare out of\nEurope, therfore I will stand upon thesame, whiche in times past, the\nRomaines ordained, and the Grekes, and as the Duchemen doe now adaies.\nBut let us se to the other question of yours, where you desire to\nunderstande, what order, or what naturall vertue makes, that the\nfootemen overcome the horsmen. And I saie unto you first that the horses\ncannot go, as the footmen in every place: Thei are slower then the\nfootemen to obeie, when it is requisite to alter the order: for as\nmoche, as if it be nedefull, either goyng forward, to turne backwarde,\nor tournyng backwarde, to go forwarde, or to move themselves standing\nstil, or goyng to stand still, without doubt, the horsemen cannot dooe\nit so redilie as the footemen: the horsemen cannot, being of some\nviolence, disordained, returne in their orders, but with difficultie,\nalthough thesame violence cease, the whiche the footemen dooe moste\neasely and quickly. Besides this, it happeneth many tymes, that a hardie\nmanne shall be upon a vile horse, and a coward upon a good, whereby it\nfoloweth, that this evill matchyng of stomackes, makes disorder. Nor no\nman doeth marvell, that a bande of footemenne, susteineth all violence\nof horse for that a horse is a beaste, that hath sence, and knoweth the\nperilles, and with an ill will, will enter in them: and if you consider,\nwhat force maketh theim go forwarde, and what holdeth them backwarde,\nyou shall se without doubt thesame to be greater, whiche kepeth them\nbacke, then that whiche maketh them go forwardes: For that the spurre\nmaketh theim go forwarde, and of the other side, either the swearde, or\nthe Pike, kepeth theim backe: so that it hath been seen by the olde, and\nby the late experience, a bande of footemen to bee moste safe, ye,\ninvinsible for horses. And if you should argue to this, that the heate,\nwith whiche thei come, maketh theim more furious to incounter who that\nwould withstande them, and lesse to regard the Pike, then the spurre: I\nsaie, that if the horse so disposed, begin to see, that he must run upon\nthe poincte of the Pike, either of himself, he wil refrain the course so\nthat so sone as he shall feele himself pricked, he will stande still\natones, or beeyng come to theim, he will tourne on the right, or on the\nlefte hande. Whereof if you wil make experience, prove to run a horse\nagainst a walle: you shall finde fewe, with what so ever furie he come\nwithall, will strike against it. Cesar havyng in Fraunce, to faighte\nwith the Suizzers, a lighted, and made every manne a light on foote, and\nto avoide from the araies, the horses, as a thyng more meete to flie,\nthen to faight. But notwithstandyng these naturall impedimentes, whiche\nhorses have, thesame Capitaine, whiche leadeth the footemen, ought to\nchuse waies, whiche have for horse, the moste impedimentes that maie\nbee, and seldome tymes it happeneth, but that a manne maie save hymself,\nby the qualitie of the countrie: for that if thou marche on the hilles,\nthe situacion doeth save thee from thesame furie, whereof you doubt,\nthat thei go withail in the plain, fewe plaines be, whiche through the\ntillage or by meanes of the woddes, doe not assure thee: for that every\nhillocke, every bancke, although it be but small, taketh awaie thesame\nheate, and every culture where bee Vines, and other trees, lettes the\nhorses: and if thou come to battaile, the very same lettes happeneth,\nthat chaunceth in marchyng: for as moche as every little impedemente,\nthat the horse hath, abateth his furie. One thyng notwithstandyng, I\nwill not forgette to tell you, how the Romaines estemed so moche their\norders, and trusted so moche to their weapons, that if thei shuld have\nhad, to chuse either so rough a place to save theim selves from horses,\nwhere thei should not have been able, to raunge their orders, or a place\nwhere thei should have nede, to feare more of horses, but ben able to\ndeffende their battaile, alwaies thei toke this, and left that: but\nbicause it is tyme, to passe to the armie, having armed these\nsouldiours, accordyng to the aunciente and newe use, let us see what\nexercises the Romaines caused theim make, before the menne were brought\nto the battaile. Although thei be well chosen, and better armed, thei\nought with moste greate studie be exercised, for that without this\nexercise, there was never any souldiour good: these exercises ought to\nbe devided into three partes, the one, for to harden the bodie, and to\nmake it apte to take paines, and to bee more swifter and more readier,\nthe other, to teach them, how to handell their weapons, the third, for\nto learne them to kepe the orders in the armie, as well in marchyng, as\nin faightyng, and in the incampyng: The whiche be three principall\nactes, that an armie doeth: for asmoche, as if an armie marche, incampe,\nand faight with order, and expertly, the Capitaine leseth not his\nhonoure, although the battaile should have no good ende. Therfore, all\nthauncient common weales, provided these exercises in maner, by custome,\nand by lawe, that there should not be left behinde any part thereof.\nThei exercised then their youth, for to make them swift, in runnyng, to\nmake theim readie, in leapyng, for to make them strong, in throwyng the\nbarre, or in wrestlyng: and these three qualities, be as it were\nnecessarie in souldiours. For that swiftnesse, maketh theim apte to\npossesse places, before the enemie, and to come to them unloked for, and\nat unwares to pursue them, when thei are discomfaicted: the readinesse,\nmaketh theim apte to avoide a blowe, to leape over a diche, to winne a\nbanke: strength, maketh them the better able to beare their armours, to\nincounter the enemie, to withstande a violence. And above all, to make\nthe bodie the more apte to take paines, thei used to beare greate\nburthens, the whiche custome is necessarie: for that in difficulte\nexpedicions it is requisite many tymes, that the souldiour beside his\narmours, beare vitualles for many daies, and if he were not accustomed\nto this labour, he could not dooe it: and without this, there can\nneither bee avoided a perill, nor a victorie gotten with fame.\nConcernyng to learne how to handell the weapons, thei exercised theim,\nin this maner: thei would have the yong menne, to put on armour, whiche\nshould waie twise as moche, as their field armour, and in stede of a\nswearde, thei gave them a cudgell leaded, whiche in comparison of a\nverie swearde in deede, was moste heavie; thei made for every one of\nthem, a poste to be set up in the ground, which should be in height twoo\nyardes and a quarter, and in soche maner, and so strong, that the blowes\nshould not slur nor hurle it doune, against the whiche poste, the yong\nman with a targaet, and with the cudgell, as against an enemie did\nexercise, and some whiles he stroke, as though he would hurte the hedde,\nor the face, somewhile he retired backe, an other while he made\nforewarde: and thei had in this exercise, this advertisment, to make\ntheim apt to cover theim selves, and to hurte the enemie: and havyng the\ncounterfaight armours moste heavy, their ordinarie armours semed after\nunto them more lighter. The Romanies, would that their souldiours should\nhurte with the pricke, and not with the cutte, as well bicause the\npricke is more mortalle, and hath lesse defence, as also to thentent\nthat he that should hurt, might lye the lesse open, and be more apt to\nredouble it, then with cuttes. Dooe not marvaile that these auncient\nmen, should thinke on these small thynges, for that where the\nincounteryng of men is reasoned of, you shall perceive, that every\nlittle vauntage, is of greate importaunce: and I remember you the same,\nwhiche the writers of this declare, rather then I to teache you. The\nantiquitie estemed nothing move happie, in a common weale, then to be in\nthesame, many men exercised in armes: bicause not the shining of\nprecious stones and of golde, maketh that the enemies submit themselves\nunto thee, but onely the fear of the weapons: afterwarde the errours\nwhiche are made in other thynges, maie sometymes be corrected, but those\nwhiche are dooen in the warre, the paine straight waie commyng on,\ncannot be amended. Besides that, the knowlege to faight, maketh men more\nbold, bicause no man feareth to doe that thing, which he thinketh to\nhave learned to dooe. The antiquitie would therefore, that their\nCitezeins should exercise themselves, in all marcial feates, and thei\nmade them to throwe against thesame poste, dartes moche hevier then the\nordinarie: the whiche exercise, besides the makyng men expert in\nthrowyng, maketh also the arme more nimble, and moche stronger. Thei\ntaught them also to shote in the long bowe, to whorle with the sling:\nand to all these thynges, thei appoincted maisters, in soche maner, that\nafter when thei were chosen for to go to the warre, thei were now with\nmynde and disposicion, souldiours. Nor there remained them to learn\nother, then to go in the orders, and to maintain them selves in those,\neither marchyng, or faightyng: The whiche moste easely thei learned,\nmingeling themselves with those, whiche had long tyme served, whereby\nthei knewe how to stande in the orders.\n\nCOSIMO. What exercises would you cause theim to make at this present?\n\n[Sidenote: The exercises that souldiers ought to make in these daies;\nThe exercise of swimmyng; Tiber, is a river runnyng through Rome the\nwater wher of will never corrupte; Thexercise of vautyng, and the\ncommoditie thereof; An order that is taken in certain countries,\nconcerning exercises of warre; What knowledge a Souldiour ought to have;\nA Cohorte is a bande of men; Of what nomer and of what kind of armours\nand weapons, a maine battaile ought to bee, and the distributing and\nappoinetyng of thesame; veliti are light armed men; Thecapitaines that\nar appointed to every band of men; Twoo orders observed in an armie; How\na captain muste instructe muste instructe his souldiours how thei ought\nto governe themselves in the battaile.]\n\nFABRICIO. A good many of those, whiche have been declared, as runnyng,\nand wrestlyng, makyng theim to leape, makyng theim to labour in armours,\nmoche heavier then the ordinarie, making them shoote with Crosse bowes,\nand longe bowes, whereunto I would joyne the harkabus, a newe instrument\n(as you know) verie necessarie, and to these exercises I would use, al\nthe youth of my state, but with greater industrie, and more\nsollicitatenesse thesame parte, whiche I should have alreadie appoincted\nto serve, and alwaies in the idell daies, thei should bee exercised. I\nwould also that thei should learne to swimme, the whiche is a thyng\nverie profitable: for that there be not alwaies bridges over rivers,\nboates be not alwaies readie: so that thy army not knowyng howe to\nswime, remaineth deprived of many commodities: and many occasions to\nwoorke well, is taken awaie. The Romaines for none other cause had\nordained, that the yong men should exercise them selves in Campus\nMartius, then onely, for that havyng Tiber at hande, thei might, beyng\nweried with the exercise on lande, refreshe theim selves in the water,\nand partly in swimmyng, to exercise them selves. I would make also, as\nthe antiquitie, those whiche should serve on horsebacke to exercise, the\nwhiche is moste necessarie, for that besides to know how to ride, thei\nmuste knowe how on horsebacke thei maie prevaile of them selves. And for\nthis thei had ordeined horses of wood, upon the which thei practised, to\nleape by armed, and unarmed, without any helpe, and on every hande: the\nwhiche made, that atones, and at a beck of a capitain, the horsmen were\non foote, and likewise at a token, thei mounted on horsebacke. And soche\nexercises, bothe on foote and on horsebacke, as thei were then easie to\nbee doen, so now thei should not be difficult to thesame common weale,\nor to thesame prince, whiche would cause them to be put in practise of\ntheir yong men. As by experience is seen, in certaine citees of the\nWeste countrie, where is kepte a live like maners with this order. Thei\ndevide all their inhabiters into divers partes: and every parte thei\nname of the kinde of those weapons, that thei use in the warre. And for\nthat thei use Pikes, Halbardes, Bowes, and Harkebuses, thei call them\nPike menne, Halberders, Harkebutters, and Archars: Therefore, it is mete\nfor all the inhabiters to declare, in what orders thei will be\nappoincted in. And for that all men, either for age, or for other\nimpedimentes, be not fitte for the warre, every order maketh a choise of\nmen, and thei call them the sworen, whom in idell daies, be bounde to\nexercise themselves in those weapons, wherof thei be named: and every\nmanne hath his place appoincted hym of the cominaltie, where soche\nexercise ought to be made: and those whiche be of thesame order, but not\nof the sworen, are contributaries with their money, to thesame expenses,\nwhiche in soche exercises be necessarie: therfore thesame that thei doe,\nwe maie doe. But our smal prudence dooeth not suffre us, to take any\ngood waie. Of these exercises there grewe, that the antiquitie had good\nsouldiours, and that now those of the Weste, bee better men then ours:\nfor as moche as the antiquitie exercised them, either at home (as those\ncommon weales doe) or in the armies, as those Emperours did, for\nthoccasions aforesaied: but we, at home will not exercise theim, in\nCampe we cannot, bicause thei are not our subjectes, and for that we are\nnot able to binde them to other exercises then thei them selves liste to\ndoe: the whiche occacion hath made, that firste the armies bee\nneclected, and after, the orders, and that the kyngdomes, and the common\nweales, in especially Italians, live in soche debilitie. But let us\ntourne to our order, and folowyng this matter of exercises, I saie, how\nit suffiseth not to make good armies, for havyng hardened the men, made\nthem strong, swift, and handsome, it is nedefull also, that thei learne\nto stande in the orders, to obeie to signes, to soundes, and to the\nvoice of the capitain: to knowe, standyng, to retire them selves, goyng\nforwardes, bothe faightyng, and marchyng to maintain those: bicause\nwithout this knowlege, withal serious diligence observed, and practised,\nthere was never armie good: and without doubt, the fierce and disordered\nmenne, bee moche more weaker, then the fearfull that are ordered, for\nthat thorder driveth awaie from men feare, the disorder abateth\nfiercenesse. And to the entente you maie the better perceive that,\nwhiche here folowyng shalbe declared, you have to understande, how every\nnation, in the orderyng of their men to the warre, have made in their\nhoste, or in their armie, a principall member, the whiche though thei\nhave varied with the name, thei have little varied with the nomber of\nthe menne: for that thei all have made it, betwene sixe and viii. M.\nmen. This nomber of men was called of the Romaines, a Legion, of Grekes\na Fallange, of Frenchemen Caterva: this verie same in our tyme of the\nSuizzers, whom onely of the auncient warfare, kepe some shadowe, is\ncalled in their tongue that, whiche in ours signifieththe maine\nbattaile. True it is, that every one of them, hath after devided it,\naccordyng to their purposes. Therefore me thinkes beste, that wee\ngrounde our talke, upon this name moste knowen, and after, according to\nthe aunciente, and to the orders now adaies, the beste that is possible\nto ordaine it; and bicause the Romaines devided their Legion, whiche was\nmade betwene five and sixe thousande men, in ten Cohortes, I will that\nwee devide our main battaile, into ten battailes, and that we make it of\nsixe thousande menne on foote, and we will give to every battaile,\nCCCCL. men, of whiche shall be, CCCC. armed with heavie armour, and L.\nwith light armour: the heavie armed, shall be CCC. Targettes with\nsweardes, and shalbe called Target men: and C. with Pikes, whiche shalbe\ncalled ordinarie Pikes: the light armed shalbe, L. men armed with\nHarkabuses, Crosse bowes, and Partisans, and smal Targaettes, and these\nby an aunciente name, were called ordinarie Veliti: all of the ten\nbattailes therefore, comes to have three thousande Targaet men, a\nthousande ordinarie Pikes, CCCC. ordinarie Veliti, all whiche make the\nnomber of fower thousande and five hundred men. And we saied, that we\nwould make the maine battaile of six thousande; therefore there must be\nadded an other thousande, five hundred men, of whiche I will appoinet a\nthousande with Pikes, whom I will call extraordinarie Veliti, and thus\nmy menne should come (as a little before I have saied) to bee made halfe\nof Targaetes, and halfe of Pikes and other weapons. I would appoinete to\neverie battaile, or bande of men, a Conestable, fower Centurions and\nfouretic peticapitaines, and moreover a hedde to the ordinarie Veliti.\nwith five peticapitaines; I would give to the thousande extraordinarie\nPikes, three Conestabelles, ten Centurions, and a hundred\npeticapitaines; to the extraodrinarie Veliti, two Conestabelles, v.\nCenturions, and l. peticapitaines: I would then apoinet a generall hed,\nover all the main battaile: I would that every Conestable should have an\nAnsigne, and a Drum. Thus there should be made a manne battaile of ten\nbattailes, of three thousande Targaet men, of a thousande ordinarie\nPikes, of a thousande extraordinarie of five hundred ordinarie Veliti,\nof five hundred extraordinarie, so there should come to bee sixe\nthousande men, emongeste the whiche there should bee M.D.\npeticapitaines, and moreover, xv. Conestables, with xv. Drummes, and xv.\nAnsignes, lv. Centurions, x. heddes of the ordinarie Veliti, and a\nCapitaine over all the maine battaile with his Asigne and Drume, and I\nhave of purpose repeated this order the oftener, to the intent, that\nafter when I shall shewe you, the maners of orderyng the battailes, and\ntharmies, you should not be confounded: I saie therefore, how that, that\nking, or that common weale, whiche intendeth to ordeine their subjectes\nto armes, ought to appoincte theim with these armoures and weapons, and\nwith these partes, and to make in their countrie so many maine\nbattailes, as it were able: and when thei should have ordained them,\naccording to the forsaid distribucion, minding to exercise them in the\norders, it should suffice to exercise every battaile by it self: and\nalthough the nomber of the men, of every one of them, cannot by it self,\nmake the facion of a juste armie, notwithstandyng, every man maie learne\nto dooe thesame, whiche particularly appertaineth unto hym: for that in\nthe armies, twoo orders is observed, the one, thesame that the men ought\nto doe in every battaile, and the other that, whiche the battaile ought\nto doe after, when it is with the other in an armie. And those men,\nwhiche doe wel the first, mooste easely maie observe the seconde: But\nwithout knowyng thesame, thei can never come to the knowlege of the\nseconde. Then (as I have saied) every one of these battailes, maie by\nthem selves, learne to kepe the orders of the araies, in every qualitie\nof movyng, and of place, and after learne to put them selves togethers,\nto understande the soundes, by meanes wherof in the faight thei are\ncommaunded, to learne to know by that, as the Gallics by the whissell,\nwhat ought to be doen, either to stande still, or to tourne forward, or\nto tourne backwarde or whiche waie to tourne the weapons, and the face:\nso that knowyng how to kepe well the araie, after soche sorte, that\nneither place nor movyng maie disorder them, understandyng well the\ncommaundementes of their heddes, by meanes of the sounde, and knowyng\nquickly, how to retourne into their place, these battailes maie after\neasly (as I have said) beyng brought many together, learne to do that,\nwhiche all the body together, with the other battailes in a juste armie,\nis bounde to dooe. And bicause soche universall practise, is also not to\nbee estemed a little, ones or twise a yere, when there is peace, all the\nmain battaile maie be brought together, to give it the facion of an\nwhole armie, some daies exercisyng theim, as though thei should faight a\nfielde, settyng the fronte, and the sides with their succours in their\nplaces. And bicause a capitaine ordeineth his hoste to the fielde,\neither for coumpte of the enemie he seeth, or for that, of whiche\nwithout seyng he doubteth, he ought to exercise his armie in the one\nmaner, and in the other, and to instructe theim in soche sorte, that\nthei maie knowe how to marche, and to faight, when nede should require,\nthe wyng to his souldiours, how thei should governe theim selves, when\nthei should happen to be assaulted of this, or of that side: and where\nhe ought to instructe theim how to faight againste the enemie, whom thei\nshould see: he must shewe them also, how the faight is begun, and where\nthei ought to retire: being overthrowen, who hath to succeade in their\nplaces, to what signes, to what soundes, to what voices, thei ought to\nobeie, and to practise them in soche wise in the battaile, and with\nfained assaultes, that thei may desire the verie thyng in deede. For\nthat an armie is not made coragious, bicause in thesame be hardie menne,\nbut by reason the orders thereof bee well appoineted: For as moche as if\nI be one of the first faighters, and do knowe, beyng overcome, where I\nmaie retire, and who hath to succeade in my place, I shall alwaies\nfaight with boldnes, seing my succour at hand. If I shall be one of the\nseconde faighters, the first being driven backe, and overthrowen, I\nshall not bee afraied, for that I shall have presuposed that I maie bee,\nand I shall have desire to be thesame, whiche maie give the victory to\nmy maister, and not to bee any of the other. These exercises bee moste\nnecessarie, where an armie is made of newe, and where the old armie is,\nthei bee also necessarie: for that it is also seen, how the Romaines\nknew from their infancie, thorder of their armies, notwithstandyng,\nthose capitaines before thei should come to thenemie, continually did\nexercise them in those. And Josephus in his historie saieth, that the\ncontinuall exercises of the Romaine armies, made that all thesame\nmultitude, whiche folowe the campe for gain, was in the daie of battaile\nprofitable: bicause thei all knewe, how to stande in the orders, and to\nfaight kepyng the same: but in the armies of newe men, whether thou have\nputte theim together, to faight straight waie, or that thou make a power\nto faight, when neede requires, without these exercises, as well of the\nbattailes severally by themselves, as of all the armie, is made nothing:\nwherefore the orders beying necessarie, it is conveniente with double\nindustrie and laboure, to shewe them unto soche as knoweth them not, and\nfor to teache it, many excellent capitaines have travailed, without any\nrespecte.\n\nCOSIMO. My thinkes that this reasoning, hath sumwhat transported you:\nfor asmoche, as havyng not yet declared the waies, with the whiche the\nbattailes bee exercised, you have reasoned of the whole armie, and of\nthe daie of battaile.\n\n[Sidenote: The chief importance in the exercisyng of bandes of men;\nThree principall for thorderyng of menne into battaile raie; The manner\nhow to bryng a bande of men into battaile raie after a square facion;\nThe better waie for the ordring of a band of men in battaile raie, after\nthe first facion; How to exercise men, and to take soche order, whereby\na band of men that were by whatsoever chance disordred maye straighte\nwai be brought into order againe; What advertisement ought to bee used\nin tourning about a whole bande of menne, after soche sorte, as though\nit were but one bodie; How to order a band of menne after soche sort\nthat thei maie make their front againste thenemie of whiche flanke thei\nlist; How a band of man oughte to be ordered, when in marchyng thei\nshould bee constrained to faighton their backes.]\n\nFABRICIO. You saie truth, but surely thoccasion hath been the affection,\nwhiche I beare to these orders, and the grief that I feele, seyng thei\nbe not put in use: notwithstanding, doubt not but that I will tourne to\nthe purpose: as I have saied, the chief importaunce that is in\nthexercise of the battailes, is to knowe how to kepe well the armies:\nand bicause I tolde you that one of these battailes, ought to bee made\nof fower hundred men heavie armed, I wil staie my self upon this nomber.\nThei ought then to be brought into lxxx. rankes, and five to a ranke:\nafterward goyng fast, or softly, to knit them together, and to lose\nthem: the whiche how it is dooen, maie bee shewed better with deedes,\nthen with wordes. Which nedeth not gretly to be taught, for that every\nmanne, whom is practised in servise of warre, knoweth how this order\nprocedeth, whiche is good for no other, then to use the souldiours to\nkeepe the raie: but let us come to putte together one of these\nbattailes, I saie, that there is given them three facions principally,\nthe firste, and the moste profitablest is, to make al massive, and to\ngive it the facion of two squares, the second is, to make it square with\nthe front horned, the thirde is, to make it with a voide space in the\nmiddest: the maner to put men together in the first facion, maie be of\ntwoo sortes, tho together in the first facion, maie be of twoo sortes,\nthone is to double the rankes, that is, to make the seconde ranke enter\ninto the first, the iiii. into the third, the sixt into the fift, and so\nfoorth, so that where there was lxxx. rankes, five to a ranke, thei maie\nbecome xl. rankes, x. to a ranke. Afterward cause theim to double ones\nmore in thesame maner, settyng the one ranke into an other, and so there\nshall remain twentie rankes, twentie men to a ranke: this maketh twoo\nsquares aboute, for as moche as albeit that there bee as many men the\none waie, as in the other, notwithstandyng to wardes the hedde, thei\njoine together, that the one side toucheth the other: but by the other\nwaie, thei be distant the one from the other, at least a yarde and a\nhaulfe, after soche sorte, that the square is moche longer, from the\nbacke to the fronte, then from the one side to thother: and bicause we\nhave at this presente, to speake often of the partes afore, of behinde,\nand of the sides of these battailes, and of all the armie together,\nknowe you, that when I saie either hedde or fronte, I meane the parte\nafore, when I shall saie backe, the part behind, when I shall saie\nflankes, the partes on the sides. The fiftie ordinarie veliti of the\nbattaile, muste not mingle with the other rankes, but so sone as the\nbattaile is facioned, thei shalbe set a long by the flankes therof. The\nother waie to set together the battaile is this, and bicause it is\nbetter then the firste, I will set it before your ives juste, how it\nought to bee ordeined. I beleve that you remember of what nomber of\nmenne, of what heddes it is made, and of what armours thei are armed,\nthen the facion, that this battaile ought to have, is (as I have saied)\nof twentie rankes, twentie men to a ranke, five rankes of Pikes in the\nfront, and fiftene rankes of Targaettes on the backe, twoo Centurions\nstandying in the fronte, twoo behinde on the backe, who shall execute\nthe office of those, whiche the antiquitie called Tergiductori. The\nConestable with the Ansigne, and with the Drumme, shall stande in\nthesame space, that is betwene the five rankes of the Pikes, and the\nfiftene of the Targeaettes. Of the Peticapitaines, there shall stande\none upon every side of the ranckes, so that every one, maie have on his\nside his men, those peticapitaines, whiche shalbe on the left hande, to\nhave their men on the right hand, those Peticapitaines, whiche shall be\non the right hand, to have their menne on the left hande: The fiftie\nVeliti, muste stande a long the flankes, and on the backe of the\nbattaile. To mynde now, that this battaile maie be set together in this\nfacion, the men goyng ordinarily, it is convenient to order them thus.\nMake the men to be brought into lxxx. rankes, five to a ranke, as a\nlittle afore we have said, leavyng the Veliti either at the hedde, or at\nthe taile, so that thei stande out of this order: and it ought to be\nordeined, that every Centurion have behinde his back twentie rankes, and\nto bee nexte behinde every Centurion, five rankes of Pikes, and the\nreste Targaettes. The Conestable shall stande with the Drum, and the\nAnsigne, in thesame space, whiche is betwene the Pikes, and the\nTargaettes of the seconde Centurion, and to occupie the places of three\nTargaette men. Of the Peticapitaines, twentie shall stand on the sides\nof the rankes, of the first Centurion, on the lefte hande, and twentie\nshall stande on the sides of the rankes, of the last Centurion on the\nright hande. And you muste understande, that the Peticapitaine, whiche\nhath to leade the Pikes, ought to have a Pike, and those that leade the\nTargaettes, ought to have like weapons. Then the rankes beyng brought\ninto this order, and mindyng in marchyng, to bryng them into battaile,\nfor to make the hedde, the first Centurion must be caused to stande\nstill, with the firste twentie rankes, and the seconde to proceade\nmarchyng, and tournyng on the right hand, he must go a long the sides of\nthe twentie rankes that stande still, till he come to bee even with the\nother Centurion, where he must also stande still, and the thirde\nCenturion to procede marchyng, likewise tournyng on the right hand, and\na long the sides of the rankes that stande still, must go so farre, that\nhe be even with the other twoo Centurions, and he also standyng still,\nthe other Centurion must folowe with his rankes, likewise tournyng on\nthe right hande, a longe the sides of the rankes that stande still, so\nfarre that he come to the hed of the other, and then to stand still, and\nstraight waie twoo Centurions onely, shall depart from the front, and go\nto the backe of the battaile, the whiche cometh to bee made in thesame\nmaner, and with thesame order juste, as a little afore I have shewed\nyou. The Veliti muste stande a long, by the flankes of thesame,\naccordyng as is disposed in the first waie, whiche waie is called\nredoublyng by right line, this is called redoublyng by flanke: the first\nwaie is more easie, this is with better order, and commeth better to\npasse, and you maie better correcte it, after your owne maner, for that\nin redoublyng by righte line, you muste bee ruled by the nomber, bicause\nfive maketh ten, ten twentie, twentie fourtie, so that with redoublyng\nby right line, you cannot make a hedde of fiftene, nor of five and\ntwentie, nor of thirtie, nor of five and thirtie, but you must go where\nthesame nomber will leade you. And yet it happeneth every daie in\nparticulare affaires, that it is convenient to make the forwarde with\nsixe hundred, or eight hundred men, so that to redouble by right line,\nshould disorder you: therefore this liketh me better: that difficultie\nthat is, ought moste with practise, and with exercise to bee made easie.\nTherefore I saie unto you, how it importeth more then any thyng, to have\nthe souldiours to know how to set themselves in araie quickly, and it is\nnecessarie to keepe theim in this battaile, to exercise theim therin,\nand to make them to go apace, either forward or backward, to passe\nthrough difficulte places, without troublyng thorder: for asmoche as the\nsouldiours, whiche can doe this well, be expert souldiours, and although\nthei have never seen enemies in the face, thei maie be called old\nsouldiours, and contrariwise, those whiche cannot keepe these orders,\nthough thei have been in a thousande warres, thei ought alwaies to be\nreputed new souldiours. This is, concernyng setting them together, when\nthei are marching in small rankes: but beyng set, and after beyng broken\nby some accident or chaunce, whiche groweth either of the situacion, or\nof the enemie, to make that in a sodaine, thei maie come into order\nagaine, this is the importaunce and the difficultie, and where is\nnedefull moche exercise, and moche practise, and wherin the antiquitie\nbestowed moche studie. Therefore it is necessarie to doe twoo thynges,\nfirste to have this battaile full of countersignes, the other, to keepe\nalwaies this order, that those same men maie stand alwaies in the ranke,\nwhich thei were firste placed in: as for insample, if one have begon to\nstande in the seconde, that he stande after alwaie in that, and not\nonely in that self same rancke, but in that self same place: for the\nobservyng whereof (as I have saied) bee necessarie many countersignes.\nIn especially it is requisite, that the Ansigne bee after soche sorte\ncountersigned, that companyng with the other battailes, it maie be\nknowen from theim, accordyng as the Conestable, and the Centurions have\nplumes of fethers in their heddes differente, and easie to be knowen,\nand that whiche importeth moste, is to ordaine that the peticapitaines\nbee knowen. Whereunto the antiquitie had so moche care, that thei would\nhave nothing els written in their hedde peces, but the nomber that thei\nwere named by, callyng them firste, seconde, thirde, and fourthe xc. And\nyet thei were not contented with this, but made every souldiour to have\nwritten in his Targaet, the nomber of the ranke, and the nomber of the\nplace, in whiche ranke he was appoineted. Then the menne being\ncountersigned thus, and used to stande betwene these limites, it is an\neasie thyng, thei beyng disordered, to sett theim all againe quickly\ninto order: considering, that the Ansigne standyng still, the\nCenturions, and the Peticapitaines maie gesse their places by the iye,\nand beyng brought the left of the left, the right of the right, with\ntheir accustomed distance, the souldiours led by their rule, and by the\ndifferences of the cognisances, maie be quickly in their proper places,\nno otherwise, then as if the boordes of a tunne should bee taken a\nsunder, whiche beyng first marked, moste easely maie bee set together\nagain, where thesame beyng not countersigned, were impossible to bryng\ninto order any more. These thynges, with diligence and with exercise,\nare quickely taught, and quickly learned, and beyng learned, with\ndifficultie are forgotten: for that the newe menne, be led of the olde,\nand with tyme, a Province with these exercises, may become throughly\npractised in the war. It is also necessarie to teache theim, to tourne\ntheim selves all at ones, and when neede requires, to make of the\nflankes, and of the backe, the fronte, and of the front, flankes, or\nbacke, whiche is moste easie: bicause it suffiseth that every manne doe\ntourne his bodie, towardes thesame parte that he is commaunded, and\nwhere thei tourne their faces, there the fronte commeth to bee. True it\nis, that when thei tourne to any of the flanckes, the orders tourne out\nof their proporcion: for that from the breast to the backe, there is\nlittle difference, and from the one flancke to the other, there is verie\nmoche distance, the whiche is al contrarie to the ordinarie order of the\nbattaile: therefore it is convenient, that practise, and discrecion, doe\nplace them as thei ought to be: but this is small disorder, for that\nmoste easely by themselves, thei maie remedie it. But that whiche\nimporteth more, and where is requisite more practise, is when a battaile\nwould tourne all at ones, as though it were a whole bodie, here is meete\nto have greate practise, and greate discrecion: bicause mindyng to\ntourne, as for insample on the left hande, the left corner must stande\nstill, and those that be next to hym that standeth still, muste marche\nso softly, that thei that bee in the right corner, nede not to runne:\notherwise all thing should be confounded. But bicause it happeneth\nalwaies, when an armie marcheth from place to place, that the battailes,\nwhiche are not placed in the front, shall be driven to faight not by\nhedde, but either by flancke, or by backe, so that a battaile muste in a\nsodaine make of flancke, or of backe, hedde: and mindyng that like\nbattailes in soche cace, maie have their proporcion, as above is\ndeclared, it is necessarie, that thei have the Pikes on thesame flancke,\nthat ought to be hedde, and the Peticapitaines, Centurions, and\nConestables, to resorte accordyngly to their places. Therefore to mynde\nto dooe this, in plasyng them together, you must ordeine the fower skore\nrankes, of five in a ranke, thus: Set all the Pikes in the first twentie\nrankes, and place the Peticapitaines thereof, five in the first places,\nand five in the last: the other three score rankes, whiche come after,\nbee all of Targaettes, whiche come to bee three Centuries. Therefore,\nthe first and the laste ranke of every Centurion, would be\nPeticapitaines, the Conestable with the Ansigne, and with the Drumme,\nmuste stande in the middest of the first Centurie of Targaettes, and the\nCenturions in the hed of every Centurie. The bande thus ordained, when\nyou would have the Pikes to come on the left flancke, you must redouble\nCenturie by Centurie, on the right flancke: if you would have them to\ncome on the right flancke, you must redouble theim on the lefte. And so\nthis battaile tourneth with the Pikes upon a flancke, and the Conestable\nin the middeste: the whiche facion it hath marchyng: but the enemie\ncommyng, and the tyme that it would make of flancke hedde, it nedeth not\nbut to make every man to tourne his face, towardes thesame flancke,\nwhere the Pikes be, and then the battaile tourneth with the rankes, and\nwith the heddes in thesame maner, as is aforesaied: for that every man\nis in his place, excepte the Centurions, and the Centurions straight\nwaie, and without difficultie, place themselves: But when thei in\nmarchyng, should bee driven to faight on the backe, it is convenient to\nordein the rankes after soch sorte, that settyng theim in battaile, the\nPikes maie come behinde, and to doe this, there is to bee kepte no other\norder, then where in orderyng the battaile, by the ordinarie, every\nCenturie hath five rankes of Pikes before, to cause that thei maie have\nthem behind, and in all the other partes to observe thorder, whiche I\ndeclared firste.\n\nCOSIMO. You have tolde (if I dooe well remember me) that this maner of\nexercise, is to bee able to bryng these battailes together into an\narmie, and that this practise, serveth to be able to order theim selves\nin the same: But if it should happen, that these CCCCL. men, should have\nto doe an acte seperate, how would you order them?\n\n[Sidenote: How a battaile is made with twoo hornes; The orderyng of a\nbattaile with a voide space in the middeste.]\n\nFABRICIO. He that leadeth them, ought then to judge, where he will place\nthe Pikes, and there to put them, the whiche doeth not repugne in any\npart to the order above written: for that also, though thesame bee the\nmaner, that is observed to faighte a fielde, together with thother\nbattailes, notwithstandyng it is a rule, whiche serveth to all those\nwaies, wherein a band of menne should happen to have to doe: but in\nshewyng you the other twoo waies of me propounded, of ordering the\nbattailes, I shal also satisfie you more to your question: for that\neither thei are never used, or thei are used when a battaile is a lone,\nand not in companie of other, and to come to the waie of ordering them,\nwith twoo hornes, I saie, that thou oughteste to order the lxxx. rankes,\nfive to a ranke, in this maner. Place in the middest, one Centurion, and\nafter hym xxv. rankes, whiche muste bee with twoo Pikes on the lefte\nhande, and with three Targaettes on the right, and after the first five,\nthere must be put in the twentie folowyng, twentie Peticapitaines, all\nbetwene the pikes, and the Targaettes, excepte those whiche beare the\nPike, whom maie stand with the Pikes: after these xxv. rankes thus\nordered, there is to be placed an other Centurion, and behinde hym\nfiftene rankes of Targaettes: after these, the Conestable betwene the\nDrum and the Ansigne, who also must have after him, other fiftene rankes\nof Targaettes: after this, the thirde Centurion must be placed, and\nbehinde hym, xxv. rankes, in every one of whiche, ought to bee three\nTargaettes on the lefte flancke, and twoo Pikes on the right, and after\nthe five first rankes, there must be xx. Peticapitaines placed betwene\nthe Pikes, and the Targaettes: after these rankes, the fowerth Centurion\nmust folowe. Intendying therefore, of these rankes thus ordered, to make\na battaile with twoo hornes, the first Centurion must stand still, with\nthe xxv. rankes, whiche be behinde him, after the second Centurion muste\nmove, with the fiftene rankes of Targaettes, that bee behinde hym, and\nto tourne on the right hande, and up by the right flancke of the xxv.\nrankes, to go so farre, that he arrive to the xv. ranke, and there to\nstande still: after, the Conestable muste move, with the fiftene rankes\nof Targaettes, whiche be behinde hym, and tournyng likewise on the right\nhande, up by the right flancke of the fiftene rankes, that wer firste\nmoved, muste marche so farre, that he come to their heddes, and there to\nstand stil: after, the thirde Centurion muste move with the xxv. rankes,\nand with the fowerth Centurion, whiche was behinde, and turnyng up\nstraight, must go a long by the right flanck of the fiftene last rankes\nof the Targaettes, and not to stande still when he is at the heddes of\nthem, but to followe marchyng so farre, that the laste ranke of the xxv.\nmaie come to be even with the rankes behinde. And this dooen, the\nCenturion, whiche was hedde of the firste fiftene rankes of Targaettes,\nmust go awaie from thens where he stoode, and go to the backe in the\nlefte corner: and thus a battaile shall be made of xxv. rankes, after\ntwentie men to a rank, with two hornes, upon every side of the front,\none horn, and every one, shall have ten rankes, five to a ranke, and\nthere shall remain a space betwene the twoo hornes, as moche as\ncontaineth ten men, whiche tourne their sides, the one to thother.\nBetwene the two hornes, the capitain shall stande, and on every poinct\nof a horne, a Centurion: There shall bee also behinde, on every corner,\na Centurion: there shal be twoo rankes of Pikes, and xx. Peticapitaines\non every flancke. These twoo hornes, serve to kepe betwene theim the\nartillerie, when this battaile should have any withit, and the cariages:\nThe Veliti muste stande a long the flankes, under the Pikes. But mindyng\nto bring this horned battaile, with a voide space in the middeste, there\nought no other to bee doen, then of fiftene rankes, of twentie to a\nranke, to take eight rankes, and to place them on the poinctes of the\ntwoo hornes, whiche then of hornes, become backe of the voide space, in\nthis place, the cariages are kept, the capitain standeth, and the\nAnsigne, but never the Artillerie, the whiche is placed either in the\nfront, or a long the flankes. These be the waies, that a battaile maie\nuse when it is constrained to passe alone through suspected places:\nnotwithstandyng, the massive battaile without hornes, and without any\nsoche voide place is better, yet purposyng to assure the disarmed, the\nsame horned battaile is necessarie. The Suizzers make also many facions\nof battailes, emong which, thei make one like unto a crosse: bicause in\nthe spaces that is betwen the armes therof, thei kepe safe their\nHarkebuters from the daunger of the enemies: but bicause soche battailes\nbe good to faight by theim selves, and my intente is to shew, how many\nbattailes united, do faight with thenemie, I wil not labour further in\ndescribing them.\n\nCOSIMO. My thinkes I have verie well comprehended the waie, that ought\nto be kept to exercise the men in these battailes: But (if I remember me\nwell) you have saied, how that besides the tenne battailes, you joyne to\nthe maine battaile, a thousande extraordinarie Pikes, and five hundred\nextraordinarie Veliti: will you not appoincte these to be exercised?\n\n[Sidenote: To what purpose the Pikes and Velite extraordinarie must\nserve.]\n\nFABRICIO. I would have theim to bee exercised, and that with moste great\ndiligence: and the Pikes I would exercise, at leaste Ansigne after\nAnsigne, in the orders of the battailes, as the other: For as moche as\nthese should doe me more servise, then the ordinarie battailes, in all\nparticulare affaires: as to make guides, to get booties, and to doe like\nthynges: but the Veliti, I would exercise at home, without bringing them\ntogether, for that their office being to faight a sonder, it is not\nmete, that thei should companie with other, in the common exercises: for\nthat it shall suffice, to exercise them well in the particular\nexercises. Thei ought then (as I firste tolde you, nor now me thynkes no\nlabour to rehearse it againe) to cause their men to exercise them selves\nin these battailes, whereby thei maie knowe how to kepe the raie, to\nknowe their places, to tourne quickly, when either enemie, or situacion\ntroubleth them: for that, when thei knowe how to do this, the place is\nafter easely learned, which a battaile hath to kepe, and what is the\noffice thereof in the armie: and when a Prince, or a common weale, will\ntake the paine, and will use their diligence in these orders, and in\nthese exercisyng, it shall alwaies happen, that in their countrie, there\nshall bee good souldiours, and thei to be superiours to their\nneighbours, and shalbe those, whiche shall give, and not receive the\nlawes of other men: but (as I have saied) the disorder wherein thei\nlive, maketh that thei neclecte, and doe not esteme these thynges, and\ntherefore our armies be not good: and yet though there were either hed,\nor member naturally vertuous, thei cannot shewe it.\n\nCOSIMO. What carriages would you, that every one of these battailes\nshould have?\n\n[Sidenote: Neither Centurion nor Peticapitaine, ought not to ride; What\ncarriages the Capitaines ought to have, and the nomber of carrages\nrequisite to every bande of menne.]\n\nFABRICIO. Firste, I would that neither Centurion, nor Peticapitain,\nshould be suffered to ride: and if the Conestable would nedes ride, I\nwould that he should have a Mule, and not a horse: I would allowe hym\ntwoo carriages, and one to every Centurion, and twoo to every three\nPeticapitaines, for that so many wee lodge in a lodgyng, as in the place\ntherof we shall tell you: So that every battaile will come to have\nxxxvi. carriages, the whiche I would should carrie of necessitie the\ntentes, the vesselles to seeth meate, axes, barres of Iron, sufficient\nto make the lodgynges, and then if thei can carry any other thyng, thei\nmaie dooe it at their pleasure.\n\nCOSIMO. I beleve that the heddes of you, ordeined in every one of these\nbattailes, be necessarie: albeit, I would doubt, lest that so many\ncommaunders, should confounde all.\n\n[Sidenote: Without many capitaines, an armie cannot be governed; To what\npurpose Ansignes ought to serve; For what purpose Drummes oughte to bee\nused; The propertie that soundes of instrumentes have in mens myndes.]\n\nFABRICIO. That should bee, when it were not referred to one man, but\nreferryng it, thei cause order, ye and without theim, it is impossible\nto governe an armie: for that a wall, whiche on every parte enclineth,\nrequireth rather to have many proppes, and thicke, although not so\nstrong, then fewe, though thei were strong: bicause the vertue of one a\nlone, doeth not remedie the ruine a farre of. And therefore in tharmies,\nand emong every ten men, it is convenient that there bee one, of more\nlife, of more harte, or at leaste wise of more aucthoritie, who with\nstomacke, with wordes, and with example, maie kepe them constante, and\ndisposed to faight, and these thynges of me declared, bee necessarie in\nan armie, as the Heddes, the Ansignes, and the Drummes, is seen that wee\nhave theim all in our armies, but none doeth his office. First to mynde\nthat the Peticapitaines doe thesame, for whiche thei are ordeined, it is\nnecessarie (as I have said) that there bee a difference, betwene every\none of them and their men, and that thei lodge together, doyng their\nduties, standyng in thorder with them: for that thei placed in their\nplaces, bee a rule and a temperaunce, to maintaine the raies straight\nand steddie, and it is impossible that thei disorder, or disorderyng,\ndooe not reduce themselves quickly into their places. But we now adaies,\ndoe not use them to other purpose, then to give theim more wages, then\nto other menne, and to cause that thei dooe some particulare feate: The\nvery same happeneth of the Ansigne bearers, for that thei are kept\nrather to make a faire muster, then for any other warlike use: but the\nantiquitie used theim for guides, and to bryng theim selves againe into\norder: for that every man, so sone as the Ansigne stoode still, knewe\nthe place, that he kept nere to his Ansigne, wherunto he retourned\nalwaies: thei knewe also, how that the same movyng, or standyng, thei\nshould staie, or move: therfore it is necessarie in an armie, that there\nbe many bodies, and every bande of menne to have his Ansigne, and his\nguide: wherfore havyng this, it is mete that thei have stomackes inough,\nand by consequence life enough. Then the menne ought to marche,\naccordyng to the Ansigne: and the Ansigne to move, accordyng to the\nDrumme, the whiche Drumme well ordered, commaundeth to the armie, the\nwhiche goyng with paces, that answereth the tyme of thesame, will come\nto kepe easilie thorders: for whiche cause the antiquitie had Shalmes,\nFlutes, and soundes perfectly tymed: For as moche as like as he that\ndaunseth, proceadeth with the tyme of the Musick, and goyng with thesame\ndoeth not erre, even so an armie obeiyng, in movyng it self to thesame\nsounde, doeth not disorder: and therefore, thei varied the sounde,\naccordyng as thei would varie the mocion, and accordyng as thei would\ninflame, or quiete, or staie the mindes of men: and like as the soundes\nwere divers, so diversly thei named them: the sounde Dorico, ingendered\nconstancie, the sounde Frigio, furie: whereby thei saie, that Alexander\nbeyng at the Table, and one soundyng the sounde Frigio, it kendled so\nmoche his minde, that he laied hande on his weapons. All these maners\nshould be necessarie to finde again: and when this should bee\ndifficulte, at least there would not be left behind those that teache\nthe Souldiour to obeie, the whiche every man maie varie, and ordeine\nafter his owne facion, so that with practise, he accustome the eares of\nhis souldiours to knowe it: But now adaies of this sounde, there is no\nother fruicte taken for the moste part, then to make a rumour.\n\nCOSIMO. I would desire to understande of you, if ever with your self you\nhave discourced, whereof groweth so moche vilenesse, and so moche\ndisorder, and so moche necligence in these daies of this exercise?\n\n[Sidenote: A notable discourse of the aucthour, declaryng whereof\ngroweth so moche vilenes disorder and necligence in these daies,\nconcernyng the exercises of warre.]\n\nFABRICIO. With a good will I will tell you thesame, that I thinke. You\nknowe how that of the excellente men of warre, there hath been named\nmany in Europe, fewe in Affric, and lesse in Asia: this grewe, for that\nthese twoo laste partes of the worlde, have had not paste one kyngdome,\nor twoo, and fewe common weales, but Europe onely, hath had many\nkyngdomes, and infinite common weales, where menne became excellent, and\ndid shewe their vertue, accordyng as thei were sette a woorke, and\nbrought before their Prince, or common weale, or king that he be: it\nfolloweth therefore, that where be many dominions, there rise many\nvaliaunt menne, and where be fewe, fewe. In Asia is founde Ninus, Cirus,\nArtasercses, Mithridates: and verie fewe other, that to these maie be\ncompared. In Africk, is named (lettyng stande thesame auncient Egipt)\nMassinissa, Jugurta, and those Capitaines, whiche of the Carthaginens\ncommon weale were nourished, whom also in respecte to those of Europe,\nare moste fewe: bicause in Europe, be excellente men without nomber, and\nso many more should be, if together with those should bee named the\nother, that be through the malignitie of time extincte: for that the\nworlde hath been moste vertuous, where hath been moste states, whiche\nhave favoured vertue of necessitie, or for other humaine passion. There\nrose therfore in Asia, fewe excellente menne: bicause thesame Province,\nwas all under one kyngdome, in the whiche for the greatnesse thereof,\nthesame standing for the moste parte of tyme idell, there could not\ngrowe men in doynges excellent. To Africke there happened the verie\nsame, yet there were nourished more then in Asia, by reason of the\nCarthaginens common weale: for that in common weales, there growe more\nexcellent men, then in kingdomes, bicause in common weales for the most\npart, vertue is honoured, in Kyngdomes it is helde backe: wherby\ngroweth, that in thone, vertuous men are nourished, in the other thei\nare extincte. Therefore he that shall consider the partes of Europe,\nshall finde it to have been full of common weales, and of princedomes,\nthe whiche for feare, that the one had of the other, thei wer\nconstrained to kepe lively the warlike orders, and to honor them, whiche\nin those moste prevailed: for that in Grece, besides the kyngdome of the\nMacedonians, there were many common weales, and in every one of theim,\nwere bred moste excellente men. In Italie, were the Romaines, the\nSannites, the Toscanes, the Gallie Cisalpini. Fraunce, and Almainie, wer\nful of common weales and princedomes. Spaine likewise: and although in\ncomparison of the Romaines, there are named fewe other, it groweth\nthrough the malignitie of the writers, whom folowe fortune, and to theim\nfor the moste parte it suffised, to honour the conquerours: but it\nstandeth not with reason, that betwene the Sannites, and the Toscanes,\nwhom fought CL. yeres with the Romaine people, before thei wer overcome,\nthere should not growe exceadyng many excellente menne. And so likewise\nin Fraunce, and in Spaine: but that vertue, whiche the writers did not\ncelebrate in particuler menne, thei celebrated generally in the people,\nwhere thei exalte to the starres, the obstinatenesse that was in them,\nto defende their libertie. Beyng then true, that where bee moste\ndominions, there riseth moste valiaunt menne, it foloweth of necessitie,\nthat extinguishyng those, vertue is extincte straighte waie, the\noccasion decaiyng, whiche maketh menne vertuous. Therefore, the Romaine\nEmpire beyng after increased, and havyng extinguished all the common\nweales, and Princedomes of Europe, and of Afrike, and for the moste part\nthose of Asia, it lefte not any waie to vertue, excepte Rome: whereby\ngrewe, that vertuous menne began to be as fewe in Europe, as in Asia:\nthe whiche vertue, came after to the laste caste: For as moche, as all\nthe vertue beyng reduced to Roome, so sone as thesame was corrupted,\nalmoste all the worlde came to bee corrupted: and the Scithian people,\nwere able to come to spoile thesame Empire, the whiche had extinguished\nthe vertue of other, and knewe not howe to maintaine their owne: and\nafter, although through the inundacion of those barberous nacions,\nthesame Empire was devided into many partes, this vertue is not renued:\n\n[Sidenote: The causes why the aunciente orders are neclected.]\n\nThe one cause is, for that it greveth theim moche, to take againe the\norders when thei are marde, the other, bicause the maner of livyng now\nadaies, having respect to the Christian religion, commaundeth not\nthesame necessitie to menne, to defende themselves, whiche in olde tyme\nwas: for that then, the menne overcome in warre, either were killed, or\nremained perpetuall slaves, where thei led their lives moste miserably:\nThe tounes overcome, either were rased, or the inhabiters thereof driven\nout, their goodes taken awaie, sent dispersed through the worlde: so\nthat the vanquished in warre, suffered all extreme miserie: of this\nfeare, men beyng made afraied, thei wer driven to kepe lively the\nwarlike exercises, and thei honoured soche as were excellente in theim:\nBut nowe adaies, this feare for the moste part is not regarded: of those\nthat are overcom, fewe bee killed, none is kepte longe in prison: for\nthat with facelitie, thei are sette at libertie: the citees also, whiche\na thousande tymes have rebelled, are not destroied, the men wherof, are\nlet a lone with their goodes, so that the greateste hurte that is\nfeared, is but a taske: in so moche, that men will not submit them\nselves to the orders of warre, and to abide alwaies under those, to\navoide the perilles whereof thei are little afraied: again these\nProvinces of Europe, be under a verie fewe heddes, in respecte as it\nhath been in times past: for that al Fraunce, obeieth one kyng, al\nSpain, an other: Italie is in fewe partes, so that the weake citees, are\ndefended with leanyng to hym that overcometh, and the strong states, for\nthe causes aforesaied, feare no soche extreme ruine.\n\nCOSIMO. Yet ther hath ben seen many tounes that have ben sacked within\nthis xxv. yeres, and lost their dominions, whose insample, ought to\nteache other how to live, and to take again some of those old orders.\n\nFABRICIO. You saie true: but if you note what tounes have gone to sacke,\nyou shall not finde that thei have been the heddes of states, but of the\nmembers; as was seen sacked Tortona, and not Milaine: Capua, and not\nNapelles, Brescia, and not Venice, Ravenna, and not Roome: the whiche\ninsamples maketh those that governe, not to chaunge their purposes, but\nrather maketh them to stande more in their opinion, to be able to redeme\nagain all thynges with taskes, and for this, thei will not submit theim\nselves to the troubles of thexercises of warre, semyng unto them partly\nnot necessarie, partly, an intrinsicate matter, whiche thei understande\nnot: Those other, whiche bee subjectes to them, whom soche insamples\nought to make afraied, have no power to remedie it: and those Princes,\nthat have ones loste their estates, are no more able, and those which as\nyet kept them, know not, nor wil not. Bicause thei will without any\ndisease rain by fortune, and not by their vertue: for that in the worlde\nbeyng but little vertue, thei see fortune governeth all thynges. And\nthei will have it to rule theim, not thei to rule it. And to prove this\nthat I have discoursed to bee true, consider Almaine, in the whiche,\nbicause there is many Princedomes, and common weales, there is moche\nvertue, and all thesame, whiche in the present service of warre is good,\ndependeth of the insamples of those people: who beyng all gellious of\ntheir states, fearing servitude, the which in other places is not\nfeared, thei all maintaine theim selves Lordes, and honourable: this\nthat I have saied, shall suffice to shewe the occacions of the presente\nutilitie, accordyng to my opinion: I cannot tell, whether it seeme\nthesame unto you, or whether there be growen in you any doubtyng.\n\nCOSIMO. None, but rather I understande all verie well: onely I desire,\ntournyng to our principall matter, to understande of you, how you would\nordein the horses with these battailes, and how many, and how thei\nshould be governed, and how armed.\n\n[Sidenote: The armyng of horsemen; The weapons that light horsmenne\nshould have; The nombre of horsmen requisite for a maine bataille of six\nthousand men; The nombre of carrages that men of armes and light horsmen\nought to have.]\n\nFABRICIO. You thinke peraventure, that I have left it behinde: whereat\ndoe not marvell, for that I purpose for twoo causes, to speake therof\nlittle, the one is, for that the strengthe, and the importaunce of an\narmie, is the footemen, the other is, bicause this part of service of\nwarre, is lesse corrupted, then thesame of footemen. For that though it\nbe not stronger then the old, yet it maie compare with thesame,\nnevertheles ther hath been spoken a little afore, of the maner of\nexercisyng them. And concernyng tharmyng them, I would arme them as thei\ndoe at this present, as wel the light horsemen, as the menne of armes:\nbut the light horsemen, I would that thei should be all Crossebowe\nshuters, with some Harkebutters emong them: the whiche though in the\nother affaires of warre, thei bee little profitable, thei be for this\nmost profitable, to make afraied the countrie menne, and to drive them\nfrom a passage, that were kept of them: bicause a Harkebutter, shall\nfeare them more, then twentie other armed. But commyng to the nomber, I\nsaie, that having taken in hand, to imitate the service of warre of the\nRomaines, I would not ordein more then three hundred horse, profitable\nfor every maine battaile, of whiche I would that there were CL. men of\narmes, and CL. light horsmen, and I would give to every one of these\npartes, a hedde, making after emong them fiftene peticapitaines for a\nbande, givyng to every one of them a Trompet, and a standarde: I would\nthat every ten menne of armes, should have five carriages, and every ten\nlight horsemen twoo, the whiche as those of the footemen, should carrie\nthe tentes, the vesselles, and the axes, and the stakes, and the rest of\ntheir other harneis. Nor beleve not but that it is disorder, where the\nmenne of armes have to their service fower horse, bicause soche a thyng\nis a corrupt use: for that the men of armes in Almaine, are seen to bee\nwith their horse alone, every twentie of theim, havyng onely a carte,\nthat carrieth after them their necessary thynges. The Romaine horsemen,\nwere likewise a lone: true it is, that the Triary lodged nere them,\nwhiche wer bound to minister helpe unto theim, in the kepyng of their\nhorses the whiche maie easely be imitated of us, as in the distributyng\nof the lodgynges, I shall shewe you. Thesame then that the Romaines did,\nand that whiche the Duchmen doe now a daies, we maie doe also, ye, not\ndoyng it, we erre. These horses ordained and appoincted together with a\nmain battaile, maie sometymes be put together, when the battailes bee\nassembled, and to cause that betwene theim bee made some sight of\nassault, the whiche should be more to make them acquainted together,\nthen for any other necessitie. But now of this part, there hath been\nspoke sufficiently, wherefore let us facion the armie, to be able to\ncome into the field against the enemie, and hope to winne it: whiche\nthyng is the ende, for whiche the exercise of warre is ordeined, and so\nmoche studie therein bestowed.\n\n\n\n\nTHE THIRDE BOOKE\n\n\nCOSIMO. Seeing that we chaunge reasonyng, I will that the demaunder be\nchaunged: bicause I would not be thought presumptuous, the which I have\nalwaies blamed in other: therfore, I resigne the Dictatorship, and give\nthis aucthoritie to hym that will have it, of these my other frendes.\n\nZANOBI. We would be moste glad, that you should procede, but seyng that\nyou will not, yet tell at leaste, whiche of us shall succede in your\nplace.\n\nCOSIMO. I will give this charge to signor Fabricio.\n\nFABRICIO. I am content to take it, and I will that we folowe the\nVenecian custome, that is, that the youngeste speake firste: bicause\nthis beyng an exercise for yong men, I perswade my self, that yong\nmenne, bee moste apt to reason thereof, as thei be moste readie to\nexecute it.\n\nCOSIMO. Then it falleth to you Luigi: and as I have pleasure of soche a\nsuccessour, so you shal satisfie your self of soche a demaunder:\ntherefore I praie you, let us tourne to the matter, and let us lese no\nmore tyme.\n\n[Sidenote: The greateste disorder that is used now a daies in pitching\nof a fielde; The order how a Romain Legion was appoincted to faight; The\nmaner that the Grekes used in their Falangi, when thei fought against\ntheir enemies; The order that the Suizzers use in their main battailes\nwhen thei faight; Howe to appoincte a main battaile with armour and\nweapons, and to order thesame after the Greke and Romain maner.]\n\nFABRICIO. I am certain, that to mynde to shewe wel, how an armie is\nprepared, to faight a fielde, it should be necessarie to declare, how\nthe Grekes, and the Romaines ordeined the bandes of their armies:\nNotwithstandyng, you your selves, beeyng able to rede, and to consider\nthese tnynges, by meanes of the auncient writers. I will passe over many\nparticulars: and I will onely bryng in those thynges, whiche I thinke\nnecessarie to imitate, mindyng at this tyme, to give to our exercise of\nwarre, some parte of perfection: The whiche shall make, that in one\ninstant, I shall shewe you, how an armie is prepared to the field, and\nhow it doeth incounter in the verie faight, and how it maie be exercised\nin the fained. The greatest disorder, that thei make, whiche ordeine an\narmie to the fielde, is in giving them onely one fronte, and to binde\nthem to one brunt, and to one fortune: the whiche groweth, of havyng\nloste the waie, that the antiquitie used to receive one bande within an\nother: bicause without this waie, thei can neither succour the formoste,\nnor defende them, nor succede in the faight in their steede: the whiche\nof the Romaines, was moste excellently well observed. Therefore,\npurposyng to shewe this waie, I saie, how that the Romaines devided into\niii. partes every Legion, in Hastati, Prencipi, and Triarii, of which,\nthe Hastati wer placed in the first front, or forward of the armie, with\nthorders thicke and sure, behinde whom wer the Prencipi, but placed with\ntheir orders more thinne: after these, thei set the Triarii, and with so\nmoche thinnes of orders, that thei might, if nede wer, receive betwene\nthem the Prencipi, and the Hastati. Thei had besides these, the\nSlingers, and Crosbowshoters, and the other lighte armed, the whiche\nstoode not in these orders, but thei placed them in the bed of tharmie,\nbetwene the horses and the other bandes of footemen: therefore these\nlight armed, began the faight, if thei overcame (whiche happened seldom\ntimes) thei folowed the victorie: if thei were repulced, thei retired by\nthe flanckes of the armie, or by the spaces ordained for soche purposes,\nand thei brought them selves emong the unarmed: after the departure of\nwhom, the Hastati incountered with the enemie, the whiche if thei saw\nthemselves to be overcome, thei retired by a little and little, by the\nrarenesse of thorders betwene the Prencipi, and together with those,\nthei renued the faight if these also wer repulced, thei retired al in\nthe rarenesse of the orders of the Triarii, and al together on a heape,\nbegan againe the faight: and then, if thei were overcome, there was no\nmore remeady, bicause there remained no more waies to renue them again.\nThe horses stoode on the corners of the armie, to the likenes of twoo\nwinges to a bodie, and somewhiles thei fought with the enemies horses,\nan other while, thei rescued the fotmen, according as nede required.\nThis waie of renuyng theim selves three tymes, is almoste impossible to\novercome: for that, fortune muste three tymes forsake thee, and the\nenemie to have so moche strengthe, that three tymes he maie overcome\nthee. The Grekes, had not in their Falangi, this maner of renuyng them\nselves, and although in those wer many heddes, and many orders,\nnotwithstandyng, thei made one bodie, or els one hedde: the maner that\nthei kepte in rescuyng the one the other was, not to retire the one\norder within the other, as the Romaines, but to enter the one manne into\nthe place of the other: the which thei did in this maner. Their Falange\nbrought into rankes, and admit, that thei put in a ranke fiftie menne,\ncommyng after with their hedde againste the enemie, of all the rankes\nthe foremoste sixe, mighte faight: Bicause their Launces, the whiche\nthei called Sarisse, were so long, that the sixt ranke, passed with the\nhedde of their Launces, out of the first ranke: then in faightyng, if\nany of the first, either through death, or through woundes fell,\nstraight waie there entered into his place, thesame man, that was\nbehinde in the second ranke, and in the place that remained voide of the\nseconde, thesame man entred, whiche was behind hym in the thirde, and\nthus successively, in a sodaine the rankes behinde, restored the faultes\nof those afore, so that the rankes alwaies remained whole, and no place\nof the faighters was voide, except the laste rankes, the whiche came to\nconsume, havyng not menne behinde their backes, whom might restore\ntheim: So that the hurte that the first rankes suffered, consumed the\nlaste, and the firste remained alwaies whole: and thus these Falangi by\ntheir order, might soner be consumed, then broken, for that the grosse\nbodie, made it more immovable. The Romaines used at the beginnyng the\nFalangi, and did set in order their Legions like unto them: after, this\norder pleased them not, and thei devided the Legions into many bodies,\nthat is, in bandes and companies: Bicause thei judged (as a little afore\nI saied) that thesame bodie, should have neede of many capitaines, and\nthat it should be made of sunderie partes, so that every one by it self,\nmight be governed. The maine battailes of the Suizzers, use at this\npresent, all the maners of the Falangi, as well in ordryng it grosse,\nand whole, as in rescuyng the one the other: and in pitchyng the field,\nthei set the main battailes, thone to the sides of the other: and though\nthei set them the one behinde the other, thei have no waie, that the\nfirste retiryng it self, maie bee received of the seconde, but thei use\nthis order, to the entent to bee able to succour the one thother, where\nthei put a maine battaile before, and an other behinde thesame on the\nright hande: so that if the first have nede of helpe, that then the\nother maie make forewarde, and succour it: the third main battaile, thei\nput behind these, but distant from them, a Harkebus shot: this thei doe,\nfor that thesaid two main battailes being repulced, this maie make\nforwarde, and have space for theim selves, and for the repulced, and\nthesame that marcheth forward, to avoide the justling of the one the\nother: for asmoche as a grosse multitude, cannot bee received as a\nlittle bodie: and therefore, the little bodies beyng destincte, whiche\nwere in a Romaine Legion, might be placed in soche wise, that thei might\nreceive betwene theim, and rescue the one the other. And to prove this\norder of the Suizzers not to be so good, as the auncient Romaines, many\ninsamples of the Romain Legions doe declare, when thei fought with the\nGrekes Falangi, where alwaies thei were consumed of theim: for that the\nkinde of their weapons (as I have said afore) and this waie of renuyng\nthemselves, could do more, then the massivenesse of the Falangi. Havyng\ntherefore, with these insamples to ordaine an armie, I have thought\ngood, partly to retaine the maner of armyng and the orders of the Grekes\nFalangi, and partely of the Romain Legions: and therfore I have saied,\nthat I would have in a main battaile, twoo thousande pikes, whiche be\nthe weapons of the Macedonicall Falangi, and three thousande Targaettes\nwith sweardes, whiche be the Romain weapons: I have devided the main\nbattaile, into x. battailes, as the Romaines their Legion into ten\nCohortes: I have ordeined the Veliti, that is the light armed, to begin\nthe faight, as the Romaines used: and like as the weapons beyng mingled,\ndoe participate of thone and of the other nacion, so the orders also doe\nparticipate: I have ordained, that every battaile shall have v. rankes\nof Pikes in the fronte, and the rest of Targaettes, to bee able with the\nfront, to withstande the horses, and to enter easely into the battaile\nof the enemies on foot, having in the firste fronte, or vawarde, Pikes,\nas well as the enemie, the whiche shall suffice me to withstande them,\nthe Targaettes after to overcome theim. And if you note the vertue of\nthis order, you shal se al these weapons, to doe fully their office, for\nthat the Pikes, bee profitable against the horses, and when thei come\nagainst the footemenne, thei dooe their office well, before the faight\nthrong together, bicause so sone as thei presse together, thei become\nunprofitable: wherefore, the Suizzers to avoide this inconvenience, put\nafter everye three rankes of Pikes, a ranke of Halberdes, the whiche\nthey do to make roome to the Pikes, which is not yet so much as\nsuffiseth. Then putting our Pikes afore, and the Targaettes behinde,\nthey come to withstande the horses, and in the beginning of the fight,\nthey open the rayes, and molest the footemen: But when the fight is\nthrust together, and that they become unprofitable, the Targaettes and\nswoords succeede, which may in every narowe place be handled.\n\nLUIGI. Wee looke nowe with desire to understande, howe you would ordeyne\nthe armie to fighte the fielde, with these weapons, and with these\norder.\n\n[Sidenote: The nomber of men that was in a Counsulles armie; How the\nRomaines placed their Legions in the field; How to order an armie in the\nfielde to fighte a battaile, according to the minde of the authour; How\nthe extraordinary pikes bee placed in the set battaile; The place where\nthextraordinarie archars and harkebutters, and the men of armes and\nlighte horsmen ought to stande when the field is pitched, and goeth to\nfaighte the battaile; The ordinarie archars and harkebutters are placed\naboute their owne battailes; The place where the generall hedde of a\nmaine battaile muste stande, when thesame power of men is appoincted to\nfaight; What menne a general capitain of a maine battaile oughte to have\naboute hym; The place wher a general capitain of all thearmie must stand\nwhen the battaile is ready to be fought and what nomber of chosen men\noughte to be aboute hym; How many canons is requisite for an armie, and\nof what sise they ought to bee; Where the artillerie ought to be placed\nwhen thearmie is reedie to fight; An armie that were ordered as above is\ndeclared, maie in fighting, use the Grekes maner, and the Roman fashion;\nTo what purpose the spaces that be betwene every bande of men do serve.]\n\nFABRICIO. And I will not nowe shewe you other, then this: you have to\nunderstande, how that in an ordinarye Romane armie, which they call a\nConsull armie, there were no more, then twoo Legions of Romane Citezens\nwhich were sixe hundred horse, and about aleven thousande footemen: they\nhad besides as many more footemen and horsemen, whiche were sente them\nfrom their friends and confiderates, whome they divided into twoo\npartes, and called the one, the right horne and the other the left\nhorne: nor they never permitted, that these aiding footemen, should\npasse the nomber of the footemen of their Legions, they were well\ncontented, that the nomber of those horse shoulde be more then theirs:\nwith this armie, which was of xxii. thousand footemen, and about twoo\nthousande good horse, a Consul executed all affaires, and went to all\nenterprises: yet when it was needefull to set against a greater force,\ntwoo Consulles joyned together with twoo armies. You ought also to note\nin especially, that in all the three principall actes, which an armie\ndoth that is, to march, to incampe, and to fight, the Romanes used to\nput their Legions in the middeste, for that they woulde, that the same\npower, wherein they most trusted, shoulde bee moste united, as in the\nreasoning of these three actes, shall be shewed you: those aiding\nfootemen, through the practise they had with the Legion Souldiours, were\nas profitable as they, because they were instructed, according as the\nsouldiours of the Legions were, and therefore, in like maner in pitching\nthe field, they pitched. Then he that knoweth how the Romaines disposed\na Legion in their armie, to fight a field, knoweth how they disposed\nall: therefor, having tolde you how they devided a Legion into three\nbandes, and how the one bande received the other, I have then told you,\nhow al tharmie in a fielde, was ordained. Wherefore, I minding to ordain\na field like unto the Romaines, as they had twoo Legions, I will take\nii. main batailes, and these being disposed, the disposicion of all an\narmie shalbe understode therby: bycause in joyning more men, there is no\nother to be doen, then to ingrosse the orders: I thinke I neede not to\nrehearse how many men a maine battaile hath, and howe it hath ten\nbattailes, and what heades bee in a battaile and what weapons they have,\nand which be the ordinarie Pikes and Veliti, and which the\nextraordinarie for that a litle a fore I told you it destinctly, and I\nwilled you to kepe it in memorie as a necessarie thing to purpose, to\nunderstande all the other orders: and therfore I will come to the\ndemonstracion of the order without repeating it any more: Me thinkes\ngood, that the ten battailes of one main battaile be set on the left\nflanke, and the tenne other, of the other main battaile, on the right:\nthese that are placed on the left flanke, be ordeined in this maner,\nthere is put five battailes the one to the side of the other in the\nfronte, after suche sorte, that betweene the one and the other, there\nremaine a space of three yardes, whiche come to occupie for largenesse\nCvi. yardes, of ground, and for length thirtie: behinde these five\nbattailes, I would put three other distante by right line from the\nfirste thirtie yardes: twoo of the whiche, should come behinde by right\nline, to the uttermoste of the five, and the other should kepe the space\nin the middeste, and so these three, shall come to occupie for bredth\nand length, as moche space, as the five doeth. But where the five have\nbetwene the one, and the other, a distaunce of three yardes, these shall\nhave a distance of xxv. yardes. After these, I would place the twoo last\nbattailes, in like maner behinde the three by right line, and distaunte\nfrom those three, thirtie yardes, and I would place eche of theim,\nbehinde the uttermoste part of the three, so that the space, whiche\nshould remain betwen the one and the other, should be lxviii. yardes:\nthen al these battailes thus ordered, will take in bredth Cvi. yardes,\nand in length CL. Thextraordinarie Pikes, I would deffende a long the\nflanckes of these battailes, on the left side, distante from them\nfiftene yardes, makyng Cxliij. rankes, seven to a ranke, after soche\nsorte, that thei maie impale with their length, all the left sixe of the\ntenne battailes in thesame wise, declared of me to be ordained: and\nthere shall remain fourtie rankes to keepe the carriages, and the\nunarmed, whiche ought to remaine in the taile of the armie, distributyng\nthe Peticapitaines, and the Centurions, in their places: and of the\nthree Conestables, I would place one in the hedde, the other in the\nmiddeste, the third in the laste ranke, the whiche should execute the\noffice of a Tergiductore, whom the antiquitie so called hym, that was\nappoincted to the backe of the armie. But retournyng to the hedde of the\narmie, I saie how that I would place nere to the extraordinarie pikes,\nthe Veliti extraordinarie, whiche you knowe to be five hundred, and I\nwould give them a space of xxx. yardes: on the side of these likewise on\nthe left hande, I would place the menne of armes, and I would thei\nshould have a space of a Cxii. yardes: after these, the light horsemen,\nto whom I would appoinct as moche ground to stande in, as the menne of\narmes have: the ordinarie veliti, I would leave about their owne\nbattailes, who should stand in those spaces, whiche I appoincte betwene\nthone battaile and thother: whom should be as their ministers, if\nsometyme I thought not good to place them under the extraordinarie\nPikes: in dooyng or not doyng whereof, I would proceade, accordyng as\nshould tourne best to my purpose. The generall hedde of all the maine\nbattaile, I would place in thesame space, that were betwene the first\nand the seconde order of the battailes, or els in the hedde, and in\nthesame space, that is betwene the laste battaile of the firste five,\nand the extraordinarie Pikes, accordyng as beste should serve my\npurpose, with thirtie or fourtie chosen men about hym, that knewe by\nprudence, how to execute a commission, and by force, to withstande a\nviolence, and thei to be also betwen the Drumme and the Ansigne: this is\nthorder, with the whiche I would dispose a maine battaile, whiche should\nbee the disposyng of halfe the armie, and it should take in breadth\nthree hundred fourscore and twoo yardes, and in length as moche as above\nis saied, not accomptyng the space, that thesame parte of the\nextraordinarie Pikes will take, whiche muste make a defence for the\nunarmed, whiche will bee aboute lxxv. yardes: the other maine battaile,\nI would dispose on the righte side, after the same maner juste, as I\nhave disposed that on the lefte, leavyng betwene the one main battaile,\nand thother, a space of xxii. yardes: in the hedde of whiche space, I\nwould set some little carriages of artillerie, behynde the whiche,\nshould stande the generall capitaine of all the armie, and should have\nabout hym with the Trumpet, and with the Capitaine standerde, twoo\nhundred menne at least, chosen to be on foote the moste parte, emongest\nwhiche there should be tenne or more, mete to execute all\ncommaundementes, and should bee in soche wise a horsebacke, and armed,\nthat thei mighte bee on horsebacke, and on foote, accordyng as neede\nshould require. The artillerie of the armie, suffiseth ten Cannons, for\nthe winning of Townes, whose shotte shoulde not passe fiftie pounde: the\nwhiche in the fielde should serve mee more for defence of the campe,\nthen for to fight the battaile: The other artillerie, should bee rather\nof ten, then of fifteene pounde the shotte: this I would place afore on\nthe front of all the armie, if sometime the countrie should not stande\nin such wise, that I mighte place it by the flancke in a sure place,\nwhere it mighte not of the enemie be in daunger: this fashion of an\narmie thus ordered, may in fighting, use the order of the Falangi, and\nthe order of the Romane Legions: for that in the fronte, bee Pikes, all\nthe men bee set in the rankes, after such sorte, that incountering with\nthe enemie, and withstanding him, maye after the use of the Falangi,\nrestore the firste ranckes, with those behinde: on the other parte, if\nthey be charged so sore, that they be constrayned to breake the orders,\nand to retire themselves, they maye enter into the voide places of the\nseconde battailes, which they have behinde them, and unite their selves\nwith them, and making a new force, withstande the enemie, and overcome\nhim: and when this sufficeth not, they may in the verie same maner,\nretire them selves the seconde time, and the third fight: so that in\nthis order, concerning to fight, there is to renue them selves, both\naccording to the Greeke maner, and according to the Romane: concerning\nthe strength of the armie, there cannot be ordayned a more stronger: for\nas much, as the one and the other borne therof, is exceedingly well\nreplenished, both with heades, and weapons, nor there remayneth weake,\nother then the part behinde of the unarmed, and the same also, hath the\nflanckes impaled with the extraordinarie Pikes: nor the enemie can not\nof anye parte assaulte it, where he shall not finde it well appointed,\nand the hinder parte can not be assaulted: Because there can not bee an\nenemie, that hath so much puissaunce, whome equallye maye assault thee\non everye side: for that hee having so great a power, thou oughtest not\nthen to matche thy selfe in the fielde with him: but when he were three\ntimes more then thou, and as well appointed as thou, hee doth weaken him\nselfe in assaulting thee in divers places, one part that thou breakest,\nwill cause all the reste go to naughte: concerning horses, although he\nchaunce to have more then thine, thou needest not feare: for that the\norders of the Pikes, which impale thee, defende thee from all violence\nof them, although thy horses were repulced. The heades besides this, be\ndisposed in such place, that they may easyly commaunde, and obeye: the\nspaces that bee between the one battaile, and the other, and betweene\nthe one order, and the other, not onely serve to be able to receyve the\none the other, but also to give place to the messengers, whiche should\ngo and come by order of the Capitayne. And as I tolde you firste, howe\nthe Romanes had for an armie, aboute foure and twentie thousande men,\neven so this oughte to bee: and as the other souldiours tooke ensample\nof the Legions, for the maner of fighting, and the fashion of the armie,\nso those souldiours, whiche you shoulde joyne to oure twoo mayne\nbattailes, oughte to take the forme and order of them: whereof having\nput you an ensample, it is an easye matter to imitate it, for that\nincreasing, either twoo other mayne battailes unto the armie, or as many\nother souldiours, as they bee, there is no other to bee done, then to\ndouble the orders, and where was put tenne battailes on the lefte parte,\nto put twentie, either ingrossing, or distending the orders, according\nas the place, or the enemie shoulde compell thee.\n\nLUIGI. Surelye sir I imagine in suche wise of this armie, that mee\nthinkes I nowe see it, and I burne with a desire to see it incounter,\nand I woulde for nothing in the worlde, that you shoulde become Fabius\nMaximus intendyng to kepe the enemie at a baie, and to deferre the daie\nof battaile: bicause I would saie worse of you, then the Romain people\nsaied of hym.\n\n[Sidenote: The descripcion of a battaile that is a faightyng.]\n\nFABRICIO. Doubt not: Doe you not heare the artillerie? Ours have alredie\nshotte, but little hurte the enemie: and thextraordinarie Veliti,\nissuyng out of their places together with the light horsemen, moste\nspeadely, and with moste merveilous furie, and greateste crie that maie\nbe, thei assaulte the enemie: whose artillerie hath discharged ones, and\nhath passed over the heddes of our footemen, without doyng them any\nhurt, and bicause it cannot shoote the seconde tyme, the Veliti, and our\nhorsemen, have nowe gotten it, and the enemies for to defende it, are\ncome fore warde, so that neither our ordinaunce, nor thenemies, can any\nmore doe their office. Se with how moche vertue, strengthe and agilitie\nour men faighteth, and with how moche knowledge through the exercise,\nwhiche hath made them to abide, and by the confidence, that thei have in\nthe armie, the whiche, see, how with the pace therof, and with the men\nof armes on the sides, it marcheth in good order, to give the charge on\nthe adversarie: See our artillerie, whiche to give theim place, and to\nleave them the space free, is retired by thesame space, from whens the\nVeliti issued: See how the capitaine incourageth them, sheweth them the\nvictorie certain: See how the Veliti and light horsemen bee inlarged,\nand retourned on the flanckes of tharmie, to seke and view, if thei maie\nby the flanck, doe any injurie to the adversaries: behold how the armies\nbe affronted. Se with how moche valiauntnesse thei have withstode the\nviolence of thenemies, and with how moche silence, and how the capitain\ncommaundeth the menne of armes, that thei sustain, and not charge, and\nthat thei breake not from the order of the footemen: see how our light\nhorsemen be gone, to give the charge on a band of the enemies\nHarkebutters, whiche would have hurt our men by flancke, and how the\nenemies horse have succoured them, so that tourned betwene the one and\nthe other horse, thei cannot shoote, but are faine to retire behinde\ntheir owne battaile: see with what furie our Pikes doe also affront, and\nhow the footemen be now so nere together the one to the other, that the\nPikes can no more be occupied: so that according to the knowlege learned\nof us, our pikes do retire a little and a little betwen the targaettes.\nSe how in this while a great bande of men of armes of the enemies, have\ncharged our men of armes on the lefte side, and how ours, accordyng to\nknowlege, bee retired under the extraordinarie Pikes, and with the help\nof those, giving again a freshe charge, have repulced the adversaries,\nand slain a good part of them: in so moche, that thordinarie pikes of\nthe first battailes, be hidden betwene the raies of the Targaettes, thei\nhavyng lefte the faight to the Targaet men: whom you maie see, with how\nmoche vertue, securitie, and leasure, thei kill the enemie: see you not\nhow moche by faightyng, the orders be thrust together? That thei can\nscarse welde their sweardes? Behold with how moche furie the enemies\nmove: bicause beyng armed with the pike, and with the swerd unprofitable\n(the one for beyng to long, the other for findyng thenemie to well\narmed) in part thei fall hurt or dedde, in parte thei flie. See, thei\nflie on the righte corner, thei flie also on the lefte: behold, the\nvictorie is ours. Have not we wonne a field moste happely? But with more\nhappinesse it should bee wonne, if it were graunted me to put it in\nacte. And see, how there neded not the helpe of the seconde, nor of the\nthird order, for our first fronte hath sufficed to overcome theim: in\nthis part, I have no other to saie unto you, then to resolve if any\ndoubt be growen you.\n\n[Sidenote: Questions concerning the shotyng of ordinaunce.]\n\nLUIGI. You have with so moche furie wonne this fielde that I so moche\nmervaile and am so astonied, that I beleve that I am not able to\nexpresse, if any doubt remain in my mynde: yet trustyng in your\nprudence, I will be so bolde to tell thesame that I understande. Tell me\nfirste, why made you not your ordinaunce to shoote more then ones? And\nwhy straighte waie you made them to retire into tharmie, nor after made\nno mension of them? Me thought also, that you leveled the artillerie of\nthe enemie high, and appoincted it after your own devise: the whiche\nmight very well bee, yet when it should happen, as I beleve it chaunseth\noften, that thei strike the rankes, what reamedie have you? And seyng\nthat I have begun of the artillerie, I will finishe all this question,\nto the intente I nede not to reason therof any more. I have heard many\ndispraise the armours, and the orders of the aunciente armies, arguyng,\nhow now a daies, thei can doe little, but rather should bee altogether\nunprofitable, havyng respecte to the furie of the artillerie: bicause,\nthis breaketh the orders, and passeth the armours in soche wise, that it\nsemeth unto them a foolishenesse to make an order, whiche cannot bee\nkepte, and to take pain to beare a harneis, that cannot defende a man.\n\n[Sidenote: An aunswere to the questions that were demaunded, concernyng\nthe shoting of ordinaunce; The best remedie to avoide the hurte that the\nenemie in the fielde maie doe with his ordinaunce; A policie against\nbowes and dartes; Nothyng causeth greater confusion in an armie, than to\nhinder mennes fightes; Nothing more blindeth the sight of men in an\narmie, then the smoke of ordinaunce; A policie to trouble the enemies\nsight; The shotte of greate ordinaunce in the fielde, is not moche to\nbee feared of fotemenne; Bicause menne of armes stand closer together\nthen light horsmen, thei ought to remaine behinde the armie till the\nenemies ordinaunce have done shootyng; The artillerie is no let, why the\nauncient orders of warfar ought not to be used in these daies.]\n\nFABRICIO. This question of yours (bicause it hath many heddes) hath\nneede of a long aunswere. It is true, that I made not thartillery to\nshoote more than ones, and also of thesame ones, I stoode in doubte: the\noccasion was, for asmoche as it importeth more, for one to take hede not\nto be striken, then it importeth to strike the enemie. You have to\nunderstande, that to purpose that a pece of ordinaunce hurte you not, it\nis necessarie either to stande where it cannot reche you, or to get\nbehinde a wall, or behinde a banke: other thing there is not that can\nwitholde it: and it is nedefull also, that the one and the other be\nmoste strong. Those capitaines whiche come to faight a field, cannot\nstand behind a wal, or behind bankes, nor where thei maie not be\nreached: therfore it is mete for them, seyng thei cannot finde a waie to\ndefende them, to finde some mean, by the whiche thei maie be least\nhurte: nor thei cannot finde any other waie, then to prevente it\nquickly: the waie to prevent it, is to go to finde it out of hande, and\nhastely, not at leasure and in a heape: for that through spede, the\nblowe is not suffered to bee redoubled, and by the thinnesse, lesse\nnomber of menne maie be hurt. This, a bande of menne ordered, cannot\ndooe; bicause if thesame marche hastely, it goweth out of order: if it\ngo scattered, the enemie shall have no paine to breake it, for that it\nbreaketh by it self: and therfore, I ordered the armie after soche\nsorte, that it might dooe the one thyng and the other: for as moche as\nhavyng set in the corners thereof, a thousande Veliti, I appoincted that\nafter that our ordinaunce had shotte, thei should issue out together\nwith the light horsemen, to get the enemies artillerie: and therfore, I\nmade not my ordinance to shoote again, to the intente, to give no tyme\nto the enemie to shoote: Bicause space could not be given to me, and\ntaken from other men, and for thesame occasion, where I made my\nordinaunce not to shoote the seconde tyme, was for that I would not have\nsuffered the enemie to have shot at al, if I had could: seyng that to\nmynde that the enemies artillerie be unprofitable, there is no other\nremedie, but to assaulte it spedely: for as moche as if the enemies\nforsake it, thou takeste it, if thei will defende it, it is requisite\nthat thei leave it behind, so that being possessed of enemies, and of\nfrendes, it cannot shoote. I would beleve, that with out insamples these\nreasons should suffice you, yet beyng able to shewe olde ensamples, to\nprove my saiynges true, I will. Ventidio commyng to faight a field with\nthe Parthians, whose strength for the moste part, consisted in bowes and\narrowes, he suffered theim almoste to come harde to his campe, before he\ndrewe out his armie, the whiche onely he did, to be able quickly to\nprevent them: and not to give them space to shoote. Cesar when he was in\nFraunce, maketh mencion, that in faighting a battaile with the enemies,\nhe was with so moche furie assaulted of them, that his menne had no time\nto whorle their Dartes, accordyng to the custome of the Romaines:\nwherfore it is seen, that to intende, that a thyng that shooteth farre\nof, beyng in the field, doe not hurte thee, there is no other remedy,\nthen with as moche celeritie as maie bee, to prevente it. An other cause\nmoved me to procede, without shotyng the ordinaunce, whereat\nperadventure you will laugh: yet I judge not that it is to be\ndispraised. Ther is nothyng that causeth greater confusion in an armie,\nthen to hinder mennes fightes: whereby many moste puisaunte armies have\nbeen broken, by meanes their fighte hath been letted, either with duste,\nor with the Sunne: yet there is nothyng, that more letteth the sight\nthen the smoke that the artillerie maketh in shotyng: therfore, I would\nthinke that it wer more wisedome, to suffer the enemie to blinde\nhymself, then to purpose (thou being blind) to go to finde hym: for this\ncause, either I would not shote, or (for that this should not be proved,\nconsidering the reputacion that the artillerie hath) I would place it on\nthe corners of the armie, so that shootyng, it should not with the smoke\nthereof, blinde the front of thesame, whiche is the importaunce of my\nmen. And to prove that it is a profitable thyng, to let the sight of the\nenemie, there maie be brought for insample Epaminondas, whom to blind\nthe enemies armie, whiche came to faight with hym, he caused his light\nhorsemen, to run before the fronte of the enemies, to raise up the\nduste, and to lette their sight, whereby he gotte the victorie. And\nwhere it semeth unto you, that I have guided the shot of the artillerie,\nafter my owne devise, making it to passe over the heddes of my men, I\nanswer you, that most often tymes, and without comparison, the greate\nordinaunce misse the footemen, moche soner than hitte theim: for that\nthe footemen are so lowe, and those so difficult to shoote; that every\nlittle that thou raisest theim, thei passe over the heddes of men: and\nif thei be leveled never so little to lowe, thei strike in the yearth,\nand the blowe cometh not to theim: also the unevenesse of the grounde\nsaveth them, for that every little hillocke, or high place that is,\nbetwene the men and thordinance, letteth the shot therof. And concernyng\nhorsmen, and in especially men of armes, bicause thei ought to stand\nmore close together, then the light horsemen, and for that thei are\nmoche higher, maie the better be stroken, thei maie, untill the\nartillerie have shotte, be kepte in the taile of the armie. True it is,\nthat the Harkebutters doe moche more hurt, and the field peces, then the\ngreate ordinance, for the whiche, the greatest remedy is, to come to\nhande strokes quickly: and if in the firste assaulte, there be slaine\nsome, alwaies there shall bee slaine: but a good capitaine, and a good\narmie, ought not to make a coumpte of a hurte, that is particulare, but\nof a generall, and to imitate the Suizzers, whom never eschue to faight,\nbeyng made afraied of the artillerie: but rather punishe with death\nthose, whiche for feare thereof, either should go out of the ranke, or\nshould make with his body any signe of feare. I made them (so sone as\nthei had shotte) to bee retired into the armie, that thei might leave\nthe waie free for the battaile: I made no more mencion of theim, as of a\nthyng unprofitable, the faight beyng begun. You have also saied, that\nconsideryng the violence of this instrument, many judge the armours, and\nthe auncient orders to be to no purpose, and it semeth by this your\ntalke, that men now a daies, have founde orders and armours, whiche are\nable to defend them against the artillerie: if you knowe this, I would\nbee glad that you would teache it me: for that hetherto, I never sawe\nany, nor I beleve that there can any be founde: so that I would\nunderstande of soche men, for what cause the souldiours on foote in\nthese daies, weare the breastplate, or the corselet of steele, and thei\non horsebacke go all armed: bicause seyng that thei blame the aunciente\narmyng of men as unprofitable, considryng the artillery, thei ought to\ndespise also this? I would understande moreover, for what occasion the\nSuizzers, like unto the auncient orders, make a battaile close together\nof sixe, or eight thousande menne, and for what occasion all other have\nimitated theim, this order bearyng the verie same perill, concernyng the\nartillerie, that those other should beare, whiche should imitate the\nantiquitie. I beleve thei should not knowe what to answere: but if you\nshould aske soche Souldiours, as had some judgement, thei would aunswere\nfirst, that thei go armed, for that though thesame armoure defende theim\nnot from the artillerie: it defendeth them from crossebowes, from Pikes,\nfrom sweardes, from stones, and from all other hurt, that commeth from\nthe enemies, thei would answere also, that thei went close together,\nlike the Suizzers, to be able more easely to overthrow the footemen, to\nbe able to withstand better the horse and to give more difficultie to\nthe enemie to breake them: so that it is seen, that the souldiours have\nto fear, many other thynges besides the ordinance: from which thynges,\nwith the armours, and with the orders, thei are defended: whereof\nfoloweth, that the better that an armie is armed, and the closer that it\nhath the orders, and stronger, so moche the surer it is: so that he that\nis of thesame opinion, that you saie, it behoveth either that he bee of\nsmalle wisedome, or that in this thyng, he hath studied verie little:\nfor as moche as if we see, that so little a parte of the aunciente maner\nof armyng, whiche is used now a daies, that is the pike, and so little a\nparte of those orders, as are the maine battailes of the Suizzers, dooe\nus so moche good, and cause our armies to bee so strong, why ought not\nwe to beleve, that the other armours, and thother orders whiche are\nlefte, be profitable? Seyng that if we have no regard to the artillerie,\nin puttyng our selves close together, as the Suizzers, what other orders\nmaie make us more to feare thesame? For as moche as no order can cause\nus so moche to feare thesame, as those, whiche bryng men together.\nBesides this, if the artillerie of the enemies should not make me\nafraied, in besiegyng a Toune, where it hurteth me with more safegarde,\nbeyng defended of a wall, I beyng not able to prevente it, but onely\nwith tyme, with my artillerie to lette it, after soche sorte that it\nmaie double the blowe as it liste, why should I feare thesame in the\nfield, where I maie quickly prevent it? So that I conclude thus, that\nthe artillerie, according to my opinion, doeth not let, that the\naunciente maners cannot be used, and to shewe the auncient vertue: and\nif I had not talked alreadie with you of this instrument, I would of\nthesame, declare unto you more at length: but I will remit my self to\nthat, whiche then I saied.\n\nLUIGI. Wee maie now understande verie well, how moche you have aboute\nthe artillerie discoursed: and in conclusion, my thinkes you have\nshewed, that the preventyng it quickly, is the greatest remedie, that\nmaie be had for thesame, beyng in the fielde, and havyng an armie\nagainste you. Upon the whiche there groweth in me a doubte: bicause me\nthinkes, that the enemie might place his ordinaunce in soche wise, in\nhis armie, that it should hurt you, and should be after soche sort\ngarded of the footemen, that it could not be prevented. You have (if you\nremember your self well) in the orderyng of your armie to faight, made\ndistaunces of three yardes, betwene the one battaile and the other,\nmakyng those distaunces fiftene, whiche is from the battailes, to\nthextraordinarie pikes: if thenemie, shuld order his armie like unto\nyours, and should putte the artillerie a good waie within those spaces,\nI beleve that from thens, it should hurte you with their moste greate\nsafegard: bicause menne can not enter into the force of their enemies to\nprevent it.\n\n[Sidenote: A generall rule againste soche thynges as cannot bee\nwithstoode.]\n\nFABRICIO. You doubt moste prudently, and I will devise with my self,\neither to resolve you the doubte, or shewe you the remedie: I have tolde\nyou, that continually these battailes, either through goyng, or thorowe\nfaightyng, are movyng, and alwaies naturally, thei come to drawe harde\ntogether, so that if you make the distaunces of a small breadth, where\nyou set the artillerie, in a little tyme thei be shootte up, after soche\nsort, that the artillerie cannot any more shoote: if you make theim\nlarge, to avoide this perill, you incurre into a greater, where you\nthrough those distances, not onely give commoditie to the enemie, to\ntake from you the artillerie, but to breake you: but you have to\nunderstande, that it is impossible to keepe the artillerie betwene the\nbandes, and in especially those whiche go on carriages: For that the\nartillerie goeth one waie, and shooteth an other waie: So that havyng to\ngo and to shoote, it is necessary, before thei shote, that thei tourne,\nand for to tourne theim, thei will have so moche space, that fiftie\ncartes of artillerie, would disorder any armie: therfore, it is mete to\nkepe them out of the bandes, where thei may be overcome in the maner, as\na little afore we have shewed: but admit thei might be kept, and that\nthere might be found a waie betwen bothe, and of soche condicion, that\nthe presyng together of men should not hinder the artillerie, and were\nnot so open that it should give waie to the enemie, I saie, that it is\nremedied moste easely, with makyng distances in thy armie against it,\nwhiche maie give free passage to the shot of those, and so the violence\nthereof shall come to be vain, the which maie be doen moste easely: for\nasmoche, as the enemie mindyng to have his artillerie stand safe, it\nbehoveth that he put them behinde, in the furthest part of the\ndistances, so that the shot of the same, he purposyng that thei hurt not\nhis owne men, ought to passe by right line, and by that very same\nalwaies: and therefore with givyng theim place, easely thei maie bee\navoided: for that this is a generall rule, that to those thynges, whiche\ncannot be withstoode, there must bee given waie, as the antiquitie made\nto the Eliphantes, and to the carres full of hookes. I beleve, ye, I am\nmore then certaine, that it semeth unto you, that I have ordered and\nwonne a battaile after my own maner: notwithstanding, I answeer unto you\nthis, when so moche as I have saied hetherto, should not suffice, that\nit should be impossible, that an armie thus ordered, and armed, should\nnot overcome at the first incounter, any other armie that should bee\nordained, as thei order the armies now adaies, whom most often tymes,\nmake not but one front, havyng no targaettes, and are in soche wise\nunarmed, that thei cannot defende themselves from the enemie at hand,\nand thei order theim after soche sorte, that if thei set their battailes\nby flanck, the one to the other, thei make the armie thinne: if thei put\nthe one behind the other, havyng no waie to receive the one the other,\nthei doe it confusedly, and apt to be easly troubled: and although thei\ngive three names to their armies, and devide them into thre companies,\nvaward, battaile, and rereward, notwithstandyng it serveth to no other\npurpose, then to marche, and to distinguis the lodgynges: but in the\ndaie of battaile, thei binde them all to the first brunte, and to the\nfirst fortune.\n\nLUIGI. I have noted also in the faightyng of your fielde, how your\nhorsemen were repulced of the enemies horsemen: for whiche cause thei\nretired to the extraordinaire Pikes: whereby grewe, that with the aide\nof theim, thei withstode, and drave the enemies backe? I beleve that the\nPikes maie withstande the horses, as you saie, but in a grosse and\nthicke maine battaile, as the Suizzers make: but you in your army, have\nfor the hedde five rankes of Pikes, and for the flancke seven, so that I\ncannot tell how thei maie bee able to withstande them.\n\n[Sidenote: A Battaile how greate so ever it bee, cannot atones occupy\nabove v. rankes of Pikes.]\n\nFABRICIO. Yet I have told you, how sixe rankes of pikes wer occupied at\nones, in the Macedonicall Falangi, albeit you ought to understande, that\na maine battaile of Suizzers, if it were made of a thousande rankes, it\ncannot occupie more then fower, or at the most five: bicause the Pikes\nbe sixe yardes and three quarters longe, one yarde and halfe a quarter,\nis occupied of the handes, wherefore to the firste ranke, there\nremaineth free five yardes and a half, and a halfe quarter of Pike: the\nseconde ranke besides that whiche is occupied with the hande, consumeth\na yarde and half a quarter in the space, whiche remaineth betwene the\none ranke and thother: so that there is not left of pike profitable,\nmore then fower yardes and a halfe: to the thirde ranke, by this verie\nsame reason, there remaineth three yardes and a quarter and a halfe: to\nthe fowerth, twoo yardes and a quarter: to the fift one yard and halfe a\nquarter: the other rankes, for to hurte, be unprofitable, but thei serve\nto restore these firste rankes, as we have declared, and to bee a\nfortificacion to those v. Then if five of their rankes can withstande\nthe horse, why cannot five of ours withstande theim? to the whiche also\nthere lacketh not rankes behinde, that doeth sustain and make them the\nvery same staie, although thei have no pikes as the other. And when the\nrankes of thextraordinarie pikes, which are placed on the flanckes,\nshould seme unto you thinne, thei maie bee brought into a quadrante, and\nput on the flancke nere the twoo battailes, whiche I set in the laste\ncompanie of the armie: From the whiche place, thei maie easely\naltogether succour the fronte, and the backe of the armie, and minister\nhelpe to the horses, accordyng as nede shall require.\n\nLUIGI. Would you alwaies use this forme of order, when you would pitche\na fielde.\n\n[Sidenote: An advertiement concernyng the pitchying of a field.]\n\nFABRICIO. No in no wise: for that you ought to varie the facion of the\narmie, according to the qualitie of the situacion, and the condicion and\nquantitie of the enemie, as before this reasonyng dooe ende, shall bee\nshewed certaine insamples: but this forme is given unto you, not so\nmoche as moste strongeste of all, where in deede it is verie strong, as\nto the intente that thereby you maie take a rule, and an order to learne\nto knowe the waies to ordeine the other: for as moche, as every science\nhath his generalitie, upon the whiche a good part of it is grounded. One\nthing onely I advise you, that you never order an armie, after soche\nsorte, that those that faight afore, cannot bee sucoured of theim,\nwhiche be set behind: bicause he that committeth this errour, maketh the\ngreateste parte of his armie to bee unprofitable, and if it incounter\nany strength, it cannot overcome.\n\nLUIGI. There is growen in me, upon this parte a doubte. I have seen that\nin the placyng of the battailes, you make the fronte of five on a side,\nthe middeste of three, and the last partes of twoo, and I beleve, that\nit were better to ordain them contrariwise: for that I thinke, that an\narmie should with more difficultie bee broken, when he that should\ncharge upon it, the more that he should entre into the-same, so moche\nthe stronger he should finde it: and the order devised of you, me\nthinkes maketh, that the more it is entered into, so moche the weaker it\nis founde.\n\n[Sidenote: How the front of the armie ought to bee made; How the middell\npart of the armie ought to be ordered.]\n\nFABRICIO. If you should remember how to the Triarii, whom were the\nthirde order of the Romain Legions, there were not assigned more then\nsixe hundred men, you would doubt lesse, havyng understode how thei were\nplaced in the laste companie: For that you should see, how I moved of\nthis insample, have placed in the last companie twoo battailes, whiche\nare nine hundred men, so that I come rather (folowyng the insample of\nthe Romaine people) to erre, for havyng taken to many, then to fewe: and\nalthough this insample should suffice, I will tell you the reason, the\nwhich is this. The first fronte of the armie, is made perfectly whole\nand thicke, bicause it must withstande the brunt of the enemies, and it\nhath not to receive in it any of their felowes: and for this, it is\nfitte that it bee full of menne: bicause a fewe menne, should make it\nweake, either thinnesse, or for lacke of sufficiente nomber: but the\nseconde companie, for as moche as it must first receive their frendes,\nto sustain the enemie, it is mete that it have greate spaces, and for\nthis it behoveth, that it be of lesse nomber then the first: for that if\nit wer of greater nomber, or equall, it should bee conveniente, either\nnot to leave the distaunces, the whiche should be disorder, or leavyng\ntheim, to passe the boundes of thoseafore, the whiche should make the\nfacion of the armie unperfecte: and it is not true that you saie, that\nthe enemie, the more that he entereth into the maine battaile, so moche\nthe weaker he findeth it: for that the enemie, can never faight with the\nseconde order, except the first be joined with thesame: so that he\ncometh to finde the middest of the maine battaile more stronger, and not\nmore weaker, havyng to faight with the first, and with the seconde order\naltogether: the verie same happeneth, when the enemie should come to the\nthirde companie: for that there, not with twoo battailes, whiche is\nfounde freshe, but with all the maine battaile he must faight: and for\nthat this last part hath to receive moste men, the spaces therof is\nrequisite to be greatest, and that whiche receiveth them, to be the\nleste nomber.\n\n[Sidenote: The orderyng of the hinder part of tharmy.]\n\nLUIGI. It pleaseth me thesame that you have told: but answere me also\nthis: if the five first battailes doe retire betwene the three seconde\nbattailes, and after the eight betwene the twoo thirde, it semeth not\npossible, that the eight beyng brought together, and then the tenne\ntogether, maie bee received when thei bee eight, or when thei be tenne\nin the verie same space, whiche received the five.\n\n[Sidenote: The retire of the Pikes, to place the Targaet men.]\n\nFABRICIO. The first thyng that I aunswere is, that it is not the verie\nsame space: For that the five have fower spaces in the middeste, whiche\nretiryng betwene the thre, or betwene the twoo, thei occupie: then there\nremaineth thesame space, that is betwene the one maine battaile and\nother and thesame that is, betwene the battailes, and the extraordinarie\nPikes, al the whiche spaces makes largenesse: besides this, it is to bee\nconsidered, that the battailes kepe other maner of spaces, when thei bee\nin the orders without beyng altered, then when thei be altered: for that\nin the alteracion: either thei throng together, or thei inlarge the\norders: thei inlarge theim, when thei feare so moche, that thei fall to\nfliyng, thei thrust them together, when thei feare in soche wise, that\nthei seke to save them selves, not with runnyng a waie, but with\ndefence: So that in this case, thei should come to be destingueshed, and\nnot to be inlarged. Moreover, the five rankes of the Pikes, that are\nbefore, so sone as thei have begun the faighte, thei ought betwene their\nbattailes to retire, into the taile of the armie, for to give place to\nthe Targaet men, that thei maie faighte: and thei goyng into the taile\nof the armie, maie dooe soche service as the capitain should judge, were\ngood to occupie theim aboute, where in the forward, the faight beyng\nmingled, thei should otherwise bee altogether unprofitable. And for this\nthe spaces ordained, come to bee for the remnaunte of the menne, wide\ninough to receive them: yet when these spaces should not suffice, the\nflankes on the sides be men, and not walles, whom givyng place, and\ninlargyng them selves, maie make the space to containe so moche, that it\nmaie bee sufficient to receive theim.\n\n[Sidenote: How the pikes that are placed on the flankes of the armie\nought to governe them selves when the rest of the armie is driven to\nretire.]\n\nLUIGI. The rankes of the extraordinarie Pikes, whiche you place on the\nflanckes of the armie, when the first battailes retire into the second,\nwill you have them to stande still, and remain with twoo homes to the\narmie? Or will you that thei also retire together, with the battailes?\nThe whiche when thei should do, I see not how thei can, havyng no\nbattailes behinde with distaunces that maie receive them.\n\n[Sidenote: Thexercise of the army in generall; The nomber that is mete\nto be written in the Ansigne of every band of men; The degrees of\nhonours in an armie, whiche soche a man ought to rise by, as should bee\nmade a generall capitain.]\n\nFABRICIO. If the enemie overcome theim not, when he inforceth the\nbattailes to retire, thei maie stande still in their order, and hurte\nthe enemie on the flanck, after that the firste battailes retired: but\nif he should also overcome theim, as semeth reason, beyng so puisaunte,\nthat he is able to repulce the other, thei also ought to retire: whiche\nthei maie dooe excellently well, although thei have not behinde, any to\nreceive them: bicause from the middest thei maie redouble by right line,\nentring the one ranke into the other, in the maner whereof wee reasoned,\nwhen it was spoken of the order of redoublyng: True it is, that to mynde\nredoublyng to retire backe, it behoveth to take an other waie, then\nthesame that I shewed you: for that I told you, that the second ranke,\nought to enter into the first, the fowerth into the thirde, and so\nfoorth: in this case, thei ought not to begin before, but behinde, so\nthat redoublyng the rankes, thei maie come to retire backewarde not to\ntourne forward: but to aunswere to all thesame, that upon this foughten\nfield by me shewed, might of you bee replied. I saie unto you again,\nthat I have ordained you this armie, and shewed this foughten field for\ntwo causes, thone, for to declare unto you how it is ordered, the other\nto shewe you how it is exercised: thorder, I beleve you understande\nmoste well: and concernyng the exersice, I saie unto you, that thei\nought to be put together in this forme, as often times as maie be: for\nas moche as the heddes learne therby, to kepe their battailes in these\norders: for that to particulare souldiours, it appertaineth to keepe\nwell the orders of every battaile, to the heddes of the battailes, it\nappertaineth to keepe theim well in every order of the armie, and that\nthei knowe how to obeie, at the commaundement of the generall capitain:\ntherefore, it is conveniente that thei knowe, how to joyne the one\nbattaile with thother, that thei maie knowe how to take their place\natones: and for this cause it is mete that thansigne of every battaile,\nhave written in some evident part, the nomber therof: as well for to be\nable to commaunde them, as also for that the capitain, and the\nsouldiours by thesame nomber, maie more easely knowe theim againe: also\nthe maine battailes, ought to be nombred, and to have the nomber in\ntheir principal Ansigne: Therefore it is requisite, to knowe of what\nnomber the maine battaile shall be, that is placed on the left, or on\nthe right horne of what nombers the battailes bee, that are set in the\nfronte, and in the middeste, and so foorthe of the other. The antiquitie\nwould also, that these nombers should bee steppes to degrees, of honors\nof the armies: as for insample, the first degree, is the Peticapitain,\nthe seconde, the hedde of fiftie ordinarie Veliti, the thirde, the\nCenturion, the fowerth, the hedde of the first battaile, the fifte, of\nthe second, the sixt, of the thirde, and so forthe, even to the tenth\nbattaile, the whiche must be honoured in the seconde place, nexte the\ngenerall capitaine of a maine battaile: nor any ought to come to thesame\nhedde, if first, he have not risen up by all these degrees. And bicause\nbesides these heddes, there be the three Conestables of the\nextraordinarie Pikes, and twoo of the extraordinarie Veliti, I would\nthat thei should be in the same degree of the Conestable of the first\nbattaile: nor I would not care, that there were sixe men of like degree,\nto thintent, that every one of them might strive, who should doe beste,\nfor to be promised to be hedde of the seconde battaile. Then every one\nof these heddes, knowyng in what place his battaile ought to be sette\nin, of necessitie it must folowe, that at a sounde of the Trompette, so\nsone as the hedde standarde shall bee erected, all the armie shall be in\ntheir places: and this is the first exercise, whereunto an armie ought\nto bee accustomed, that is to set theim quickly together: and to doe\nthis, it is requisite every daie, and divers times in one daie, to set\nthem in order, and to disorder them.\n\nLUIGI. What armes would you that thansignes of all the armie, shoul'd\nhave beside the nomber?\n\n[Sidenote: The armes that oughte to bee in the standarde, and in the\nansignes of an armie; The second and thirde exercise of an armie; The\nfowerth exercise of an armie; The soundes of the instrumentes of\nmusicke, that the antiquitie used in their armies; What is signified by\nthe sounde of the Trompet.]\n\nFABRICIO. The standarde of the generall Capitaine oughte to have the\narmes of the Prince of the armie, all the other, maie have the verie\nsame armes, and to varie with the fieldes, or to varie with the armes,\nas should seme beste to the Lorde of the armie: Bicause this importeth\nlittle, so that the effect growe, that thei be knowen the one from the\nother. But let us passe to the other exercise: the which is to make them\nto move, and with a convenient pace to marche, and to se, that marehyng\nthei kepe the orders. The third exercise is, that thei learne to handle\nthemselves in thesame maner, whiche thei ought after to handle\ntheimselves in the daie of battaile, to cause the artillerie to shoote,\nand to bee drawen out of the waie, to make the extraordinarie Veliti to\nissue out, after a likenes of an assault, to retire theim: To make that\nthe firste battailes, as though thei wer sore charged, retire into the\nspaces of the second: and after, all into the thirde, and from thens\nevery one to retourne to his place: and in soche wise to use theim in\nthis exercise, that to every manne, all thyng maie be knowen, and\nfamiliar: the which with practise, and with familiaritie, is brought to\npasse moste quickly. The fowerth exercise is, that thei learne to knowe\nby meane of the sounde, and of the Ansigne, the commaundemente of their\ncapitaine: for as moche as that, whiche shall be to them pronounced by\nvoice, thei without other commaundemente, maie understande: and bicause\nthe importaunce of this commaundement, ought to growe of the sounde, I\nshall tell you what soundes the antiquitie used. Of the Lacedemonians,\naccordyng as Tucidido affirmeth, in their armies were used Flutes: for\nthat thei judged, that this armonie, was moste mete to make their armie\nto procede with gravetie, and with furie: the Carthaginens beyng moved\nby this verie same reason, in the first assaulte, used the violone.\nAliatte kyng of the Lidians, used in the warre the violone, and the\nFlutes: but Alexander Magnus, and the Romaines, used hornes, and\nTrumpettes, as thei, that thought by vertue of soche instrumentes, to\nbee able to incourage more the myndes of Souldiours, and make theim to\nfaight the more lustely: but as we have in armyng the armie, taken of\nthe Greke maner, and of the Romaine, so in distrihutyng the soundes, we\nwill keepe the customes of the one, and of the other nacion: therefore,\nnere the generall capitain, I would make the Trompettes to stand, as a\nsounde not onely apt to inflame the armie, but apte to bee heard in all\nthe whole tumoult more, then any other sounde: all the other soundes,\nwhiche should bee aboute the Conestables, and the heddes of maine\nbattailes I would, that thei should bee smalle Drummes, and Flutes,\nsounded not as thei sounde theim now but as thei use to sounde theim at\nfeastes. The capitaine then with the Trompet, should shewe when thei\nmust stande still, and go forward, or tourne backward, when the\nartillerie must shoote, when the extraordinarie Veliti must move, and\nwith the varietie or distinccion of soche soundes, to shewe unto the\narmie all those mocions, whiche generally maie bee shewed, the whiche\nTrompettes, should bee after followed of the Drummes, and in this\nexercise, bicause it importeth moche, it behoveth moche to exercise the\narmie. Concernyng the horsemen, there would be used likewise Trompettes,\nbut of a lesse sounde, and of a divers voice from those of the\nCapitaine. This is as moche as is come into my remembraunce, aboute the\norder of the armie, and of the exercise of thesame.\n\nLUIGI. I praie you let it not be grevous unto you to declare unto me an\nother thyng, that is, for what cause you made the light horsmen, and the\nextraordinarie Veliti, to goe with cries, rumours, and furie, when thei\ngave the charge? And after in the incountering of the rest of tharmie,\nyou shewed, that the thing folowed with a moste greate scilence? And for\nthat I understande not the occasion of this varietie, I would desire\nthat you would declare it unto me.\n\n[Sidenote: The cries, and rumours, wher with the firste charge is given\nunto the enemies, and the silence that ought to bee used after, when the\nfaight is ones begunne.]\n\nFABRICIO. The opinion of auncient capitaines, hath been divers about the\ncommyng to handes, whether thei ought with rumour to go a pace, or with\nscilence to go faire and softely: this laste waie, serveth to kepe the\norder more sure, and to understande better the commaundementes of the\nCapitaine: the firste, serveth to incourage more the mindes of men: and\nfor that I beleve, that respecte ought to bee had to the one, and to the\nother of these twoo thynges, I made the one goe with rumour, and thother\nwith scilence: nor me thinkes not in any wise, that the continuall\nrumours bee to purpose: bicause thei lette the commaundementes, the\nwhiche is a thyng moste pernicious: nor it standeth not with reason,\nthat the Romaines used, except at the firste assaulte to make rumour:\nfor that in their histories, is seen many tymes to have happened, that\nthrough the wordes, and comfortinges of the capitain the souldiours that\nranne awaie, were made to stande to it, and in sundrie wise by his\ncommaundemente, to have varied the orders, the whiche should not have\nfollowed, if the rumoures had been louder then his voyce.\n\n\n\n\nTHE FOWERTH BOOKE\n\n\nLUIGI. Seng that under my governement, a field hath been wonne so\nhonourably, I suppose that it is good, that I tempt not fortune any\nmore, knowyng how variable, and unstable she is: and therefore, I desire\nto give up my governement, and that Zanobi do execute now this office of\ndemaundyng, mindyng to followe the order, whiche concerneth the\nyoungeste: and I knowe he will not refuse this honoure, or as we would\nsaie, this labour, as well for to doe me pleasure, as also for beyng\nnaturally of more stomach than I: nor it shall not make hym afraied, to\nhave to enter into these travailes, where he maie bee as well overcome,\nas able to conquere.\n\nZANOBI. I am readie to do what soever shall please you to appoinete me,\nalthough that I desire more willingly to heare: for as moche as\nhetherto, your questions have satisfied me more, then those should have\npleased me, whiche in harkenyng to your reasonyng, hath chaunced to come\ninto my remembraunce. But sir, I beleve that it is good, that you lese\nno tyme, and that you have pacience, if with these our Ceremonies we\ntrouble you.\n\nFABRICIO. You doe me rather pleasure, for that this variacion of\ndemaunders, maketh me to knowe the sundrie wittes and sunderie appetites\nof yours: But remaineth there any thyng, whiche seemeth unto you good,\nto bee joyned to the matter, that alreadie hath been reasoned of?\n\nZANOBI. Twoo thinges I desire, before you passe to an other parte: the\none is, to have you to shewe, if in orderyng armies, there needeth to\nbee used any other facion: the other, what respectes a capitaine ought\nto have, before he conducte his men to the faight, and in thesame an\naccidente risyng or growyng, what reamedie maie be had.\n\n[Sidenote: To deffende moche the fronte of an armie, is most perillous;\nWhat is beste for a capitaine to dooe, where his power is, moche lesse\nthen thenemies power; A general rule; The higher grounde ought to be\nchosen; An advertisement not to place an armie wher the enemie maie se\nwhat the same doeth; Respectes for the Sonne and Winde; The variyng of\norder and place maie cause the conquered to become victorius; A policie\nin the ordering of men and pitchyng of a fielde; How to compasse about\nthe enemies power; How a capitaine maie faight and bee as it were sure,\nnot to be overcome; How to trouble the orders of the enemie; What a\ncapitaine oughte to dooe when he hath not so many horsmen as the enemie;\nA greate aide for horsemen; The policies used betwene Aniball and\nScipio.]\n\nFABRICIO. I will inforce my self to satisfie you, I will not answere now\ndistinctly to your questions: for that whileste I shall aunswere to one,\nmany tymes it will come to passe, that I muste aunswere to an other. I\nhave tolde you, how I have shewed you a facion of an armie, to the\nintent, that accordyng to thesame, there maie bee given all those\nfacions, that the enemie, and the situacion requireth: For as moche as\nin this case, bothe accordyng to the power thereof, and accordyng to the\nenemie, it proceadeth: but note this, that there is not a more perillous\nfacion, then to deffende moche the front of tharmie, if then thou have\nnot a most puisant, and moste great hoste: otherwise, thou oughtest to\nmake it rather grosse, and of small largenesse, then of moche largenes\nand thin: for when thou hast fewe men in comparison to thenemie, thou\noughtest to seke other remedies, as is to ordain thine army in soche a\nplace, wher thou maiest be fortefied, either through rivers, or by\nmeanes of fennes, after soch sort, that thou canst not bee compassed\naboute, or to inclose thy self on the flanckes with diches, as Cesar did\nin Fraunce. You have to take in this cace, this generall rule, to\ninlarge your self, or to draw in your self with the front, according to\nyour nomber, and thesame of the enemie. For thenemies being of lesse\nnomber, thou oughtest to seke large places, havyng in especially thy men\nwell instructed: to the intent thou maiest, not onely compasse aboute\nthe enemie, but to deffende thy orders: for that in places rough and\ndifficulte, beyng not able to prevaile of thy orders, thou commeste not\nto have any advauntage, hereby grewe, that the Romaines almoste alwaies,\nsought the open fieldes, and advoided the straightes. To the contrarie,\nas I have said, thou oughtest to doe, if thou hast fewe menne, or ill\ninstructed: for that then thou oughteste to seeke places, either where\nthe little nomber maye be saved, and where the small experience dooe not\nhurte thee: Thou oughtest also to chuse the higher grounde, to be able\nmore easily to infest them: notwithstandyng, this advertisment ought to\nbe had, not to ordaine thy armie, where the enemie maie spie what thou\ndoest and in place nere to the rootes of the same, where the enemies\narmie maie come: For that in this case, havyng respecte unto the\nartillerie, the higher place shall gette thee disadvauntage: Bicause\nthat alwaies and commodiously, thou mightest of the enemies artillerie\nbee hurte, without beyng able to make any remedy, and thou couldest not\ncommodiously hurte thesame, beyng hindered by thine owne men. Also, he\nthat prepareth an armie to faight a battaile, ought to have respecte,\nbothe to the Sunne, and to the Winde, that the one and the other, doe\nnot hurte the fronte, for that the one and the other, will let thee the\nsight, the one with the beames, and the other with the duste: and\nmoreover, the Winde hindereth the weapons, whiche are stroken at the\nenemie, and maketh their blowes more feable: and concerning the Sunne,\nit sufficeth not to have care, that at the firste it shine not in the\nface, but it is requisite to consider, that increasyng the daie, it\nhurte thee not: and for this, it should bee requsite in orderyng the\nmen, to have it all on the backe, to the entente it should have to passe\nmoche tyme, to come to lye on the fronte. This waie was observed of\nAniball at Canne, and of Mario against the Cimbrians. If thou happen to\nbe moche inferiour of horses, ordaine thine armie emongeste Vines, and\ntrees, and like impedimentes, as in our time the Spaniardes did, when\nthei overthrewe the Frenchmenne at Cirignuola. And it hath been seen\nmany times, with all one Souldiours, variyng onely the order, and the\nplace, that thei have become of losers victorers: as it happened to the\nCarthageners, whom havyng been overcome of Marcus Regolus divers tymes,\nwere after by the counsaill of Santippo a Lacedemonian, victorious: whom\nmade them to go doune into the plaine, where by vertue of the horses,\nand of Eliphantes, thei were able to overcome the Romaines. It semes\nunto me, accordyng to the auncient insamples that almoste all the\nexcellente Capitaines, when thei have knowen, that the enemie hath made\nstrong one side of his battaile, thei have not set against it, the moste\nstrongest parte, but the moste weakest, and thother moste strongest thei\nhave set against the most weakest: after in the beginning the faighte,\nthei have commaunded to their strongest parte, that onely thei sustaine\nthe enemie, and not to preace upon hym, and to the weaker, that thei\nsuffer them selves to be overcome, and to retire into the hindermoste\nbandes of the armie. This breadeth twoo greate disorders to the enemie:\nthe firste, that he findeth his strongest parte compassed about, the\nsecond is, that semyng unto him to have the victorie, seldome tymes it\nhappeneth, that thei disorder not theim selves, whereof groweth his\nsodain losse. Cornelius Scipio beyng in Spain, againste Asdruball of\nCarthage, and understanding how to Asdruball it was knowen, that he in\nthe orderyng the armie, placed his Legions in the middest, the whiche\nwas the strongest parte of his armie, and for this how Asdruball with\nlike order ought to procede: after when he came to faighte the battaile,\nhe chaunged order, and put his Legions on the hornes of the armie, and\nin the middest, placed all his weakeste men: then commyng to the handes,\nin a sodain those men placed in the middeste, he made to marche softly,\nand the hornes of the armie, with celeritie to make forwarde, so that\nonely the hornes of bothe the armies fought, and the bandes in the\nmiddest, through beyng distaunt the one from the other, joyned not\ntogether, and thus the strongest parte of Scipio, came to faight with\nthe weakest of Asdruball, and overcame hym. The whiche waie was then\nprofitable, but now havyng respect to the artillerie, it cannot be used:\nbicause the same space, whiche should remain in the middest, betwene the\none armie and the other, should give tyme to thesame to shoote: The\nwhiche is moste pernicious, as above is saied: Therefore it is requisite\nto laie this waie aside, and to use, as a little afore we saied, makyng\nall the armie to incounter, and the weakest parte to give place. When a\ncapitaine perceiveth, that he hath a greater armie then his enemie,\nmindyng to compasse hym aboute, before he be aware let hym ordaine his\nfronte equall, to thesame of his adversaries, after, so sone as the\nfaight is begun, let hym make the fronte by a little and little to\nretire, and the flanckes to deffende, and alwaies it shall happen, that\nthe enemie shal find hymself, before he be aware compassed about. When a\ncapitain will faight, as it wer sure not to be broken, let hym ordaine\nhis armie in place, where he hath refuge nere, and safe, either betwene\nFennes, or betwene hilles, or by some strong citee: for that in this\ncase, he cannot bee followed of the enemie, where the enemie maie be\npursued of him: this poincte was used of Aniball, when fortune began to\nbecome his adversarie, and that he doubted of the valiauntnesse of\nMarcus Marcello. Some to trouble the orders of the enemie, have\ncommaunded those that were light armed, to begin the faight, and that\nbeyng begunne, to retire betwene the orders: and when the armies were\nafter buckled together, and that the fronte of either of them were\noccupied in faightyng, thei have made theim to issue out by the flanckes\nof the battaile, and thesame have troubled and broken. If any perceive\nhymself to bee inferiour of horse, he maie besides the waies that are\nalredie shewed, place behinde his horsemen a battaile of Pikes, and in\nfaightyng take order, that thei give waie to the Pikes, and he shall\nremain alwaies superiour. Many have accustomed to use certain fotemenne\nlighte armed, to faighte emong horsemen, the whiche hath been to the\nchivalrie moste greate helpe. Of all those, which have prepared armies\nto the field, be moste praised Aniball and Scipio, when thei fought in\nAfrick: and for that Aniball had his armie made of Carthaginers, and of\nstraungers of divers nacions, he placed in the first fronte thereof\nlxxx. Elephantes, after he placed the straungers, behinde whom he sette\nhis Carthaginers, in the hindermoste place, he putte the Italians, in\nwhom he trusted little: the whiche thing he ordained so, for that the\nstraungers havyng before theim the enemie, and behinde beyng inclosed of\nhis men, could not flie: so that being constrained to faight thei should\novercome, or wearie the Romaines, supposyng after with his freshe and\nvaliaunte men, to be then able easely to overcome the Romaines, beeyng\nwearied. Against this order, Scipio set the Astati, the Prencipi, and\nthe Triarii, in the accustomed maner, to bee able to receive the one the\nother, and to rescue the one the other: he made the fronte of the armie,\nfull of voide spaces, and bicause it should not be perceived but rather\nshould seme united, he filled them ful of veliti, to whom he commaunded,\nthat so sone as the Eliphantes came, thei should avoide, and by the\nordinarie spaces, should enter betwene the Legins, and leave open the\nwaie to the Eliphauntes, and so it came to passe, that it made vaine the\nviolence of theim, so that commyng to handes, he was superiour.\n\nZANOBI. You have made me to remember, in alledging me this battaile, how\nScipio in faighting, made not the Astati to retire into thorders of the\nPrencipi, but he devided theim, and made theim to retire in the hornes\nof the armie, to thintent thei might give place to the Prencipi, when he\nwould force forwarde: therfore I would you should tell me, what occasion\nmoved hym, not to observe the accustomed order.\n\n[Sidenote: Cartes full of hookes made to destroie the enemies; The\nremedy that was used against Cartes full of hookes; The straunge maner\nthat Silla used in orderyng his army against Archelaus; How to trouble\nin the faighte the armie of the enemies; A policie of Caius Sulpitius,\nto make his enemies afraied; A policie of Marius againste the Duchmenne;\nA policie of greate importaunce, while a battaile is a faightyng; How\nhorsemen maie bee disordered; How the turke gave the Sophie an\noverthrowe; How the Spaniardes overcame the armie of Amilcare; How to\ntraine the enemie, to his destruccion; A policie of Tullo Hostilio and\nLucius Silla in dessemlyng of a mischaunce; Sertorius slue a man for\ntelling him of the death of one of his capitaines; Howe certaine\ncaptaines have staied their men that hath been running awaie; Attillius\nconstrained his men that ran awaie to tourne again and to faight; How\nPhilip king of Macedonia made his men afraied to run awaie; Victorie\nought with all celeritie to bee folowed; What a capitaine ought to dooe,\nwhen he should chaunce to receive an overthrowe; How Martius overcame\nthe armie of the Carthaginers; A policie of Titus Dimius to hide a\nlosse, whiche he had received in a faight; A general rule; Aniball;\nScipio; Asdruball; A Capitaine ought not to faight without advantage,\nexcepte he be constrained; How advauntage maie bee taken of the enemies;\nFurie withstode, converteth into vilenesse; What maner of men a\ncapitaine ought to have about him continually, to consult withall; The\ncondicions of the capitain of the enemies, and of those that are about\nhym is moste requisite to bee knowen; A timerous army is not to be\nconducted to faight; How to avoide the faightyng of a fielde.]\n\nFABRICIO. I will tell you. Aniball had putte all the strengthe of his\narmie, in the seconde bande: wherefore Scipio for to set againste\nthesame like strengthe, gathered the Prencipi and the Triarii together:\nSo that the distaunces of the Prencipi, beyng occupied of the Triarii,\nthere was no place to bee able to receive the Astati: and therefore he\nmade the Astati to devide, and to go in the hornes of the armie, and he\ndrewe them not betwene the Prencipi. But note, that this waie of openyng\nthe first bande, for to give place to the seconde, cannot bee used, but\nwhen a man is superiour to his enemie: for that then there is commoditie\nto bee able to dooe it, as Scipio was able: but beyng under, and\nrepulced, it cannot be doen, but with thy manifest ruine: and therefore\nit is convenient to have behinde, orders that maie receive thee, but let\nus tourne to our reasonyng. The auncient Asiaticans, emongest other\nthynges devised of them to hurt the enemies, used carres. The whiche had\non the sides certaine hookes, so that not onely thei served to open with\ntheir violence the bandes, but also to kill with the hookes the\nadversaries: against the violence of those, in thre maners thei\nprovided, either thei sustained theim with the thickenesse of the raies,\nor thei received theim betwene the bandes, as the Eliphantes were\nreceived, or els thei made with arte some strong resistence: As Silla a\nRomaine made againste Archelaus, whom had many of these cartes, whiche\nthei called hooked, who for to sustaine theim, drave many stakes into\nthe grounde, behinde his first bandes of men, whereby the cartes beyng\nstopped, lost their violence. And the newe maner that Silla used against\nhym in orderyng the armie, is to bee noted: for that he put the Veliti,\nand the horse, behinde, and all the heavie armed afore, leavyng many\ndistaunces to be able to sende before those behinde, when necessite\nrequired: whereby the fight beyng begun, with the helpe of the horsemen,\nto the whiche he gave the waie, he got the victorie. To intende to\ntrouble in the faight the enemies armie, it is conveniente to make some\nthyng to growe, that maie make theim afraied, either with showyng of\nnewe helpe that commeth, or with showyng thynges, whiche maie represente\na terrour unto theim: after soche sorte, that the enemies begiled of\nthat sight, maie be afraied, and being made afraied, thei maie easely\nbee overcome: the whiche waies Minutio Rufo used, and Accilio Glabrione\nConsulls of Rome. Caius Sulpitius also set a greate many of sackes upon\nMules, and other beastes unprofitable for the warre, but in soche wise\nordained, that thei semed men of armes, and he commaunded, that thei\nshould appere upon a hill, while he were a faightyng with the\nFrenchemen, whereby grewe his victorie. The verie same did Marius, when\nhe foughte against the Duchemen. Then the fained assaultes availyng\nmoche, whilest the faight continueth, it is conveniente, that the very\nassaultes in deede, dooe helpe moche: inespecially if at unwares in the\nmiddest of the faight, the enemie might bee assaulted behinde, or on the\nside: the whiche hardely maie be doen, if the countrie helpe thee not:\nfor that when it is open, parte of thy men cannot bee hid, as is mete to\nbee doen in like enterprises: but in woddie or hille places, and for\nthis apt for ambusshes parte of thy men maie be well hidden, to be able\nin a sodain, and contrary to thenemies opinion to assaut him, whiche\nthyng alwaies shall be occasion to give thee the victorie. It hath been\nsometyme of greate importaunce, whilest the faighte continueth, to sowe\nvoices, whiche doe pronounce the capitaine of thenemies to be dedde, or\nto have overcome on the other side of the armie: the whiche many times\nto them that have used it, hath given the victorie. The chivalrie of the\nenemies maie bee easely troubled, either with sightes, or with rumours,\nnot used: as Creso did, whom put Camelles againste the horses of the\nadversaries, and Pirrus sette againste the Romaine horsemen Eliphantes,\nthe sighte of whiche troubled and disordered them. In our time, the\nTurke discomfited the Sophi in Persia, and the Soldane in Surria with no\nother, then with the noise of Harkabuses, the whiche in soche wise, with\ntheir straunge rumours, disturbed the horses of those, that the Turke\nmighte easely overcome them: The Spaniardes to overcome the armie of\nAmilcare, put in the firste fronte Cartes full of towe drawen of oxen,\nand comming to handes, thei kindeled fire to thesame, wherfore the oxen\nto flie from the fire, thrust into the armie of Amilcar, and opened it.\nThei are wonte (as we have saied) to begile the enemie in the faight,\ndrawyng him into their ambusshes, where the Countrie is commodious for\nthe same purpose, but where it were open and large, many have used to\nmake diches, and after have covered them lightly with bowes and yearth,\nand lefte certain spaces whole, to be able betnene those to retire:\nafter, so sone as the faight hath been begunne, retiryng by those, and\nthe enemie folowing them, hath fallen in the pittes. If in the faight\nthere happen thee, any accident that maie feare thy souldiours, it is a\nmoste prudente thyng, to knowe how to desemble it, and to pervert it to\ngood, as Tullo Hostilio did, and Lucius Silla: whom seyng while thei\nfought, how a parte of his men wer gone to the enemies side, and how\nthesame thing had verie moche made afraied his men, he made straighte\nwaie throughout all the armie to be understoode, how all thing proceded,\naccordyng to his order: the whiche not onely did not trouble the armie,\nbut it increased in them so moche stomack, that he remained victorious.\nIt happened also to Silla, that havyng sente certaine souldiours to doe\nsome businesse, and thei beyng slain he saied, to the intent his armie\nshould not be made afraied thereby, that he had with crafte sent theim\ninto the handes of the enemies, for that he had found them nothyng\nfaithfull. Sertorius faightyng a battaile in Spaine, slue one, whom\nsignified unto hym the death of one of his capitaines, for feare that\ntellyng the very same to other, he should make theim afraied. It is a\nmoste difficult thyng, an armie beyng now moved to flie, to staie it,\nand make it to faight. And you have to make this distinccion: either\nthat it is all moved, and then to be impossible to tourne it, or there\nis moved a parte thereof, and then there is some remedie. Many Romain\ncapitaines, with making afore those whiche fled, have caused them to\nstaie, making them ashamed of running awaie, as Lucius Silla did, where\nalredy parte of his Legions beyng tourned to flight, driven awaie by the\nmen of Mithridates, he made afore them with a swearde in his hande\ncriyng: if any aske you, where you left your capitaine, saie, we have\nleft hym in Boecia, where he faighteth. Attillius a consull set againste\nthat ran awaie, them that ranne not awaie, and made them to understande,\nthat if thei would not tourne, thei should be slaine of their frendes,\nand of their enemies. Philip of Macedonia understanding how his men\nfeared the Scithian Souldiours, placed behinde his armie, certaine of\nhis moste trustie horsemen, and gave commission to theim, that thei\nshould kill whom so ever fledde: wherfore, his men mindyng rather to die\nfaightyng, then fliyng, overcame. Many Romaines, not so moche to staie a\nflight, as for to give occasion to their men, to make greater force,\nhave whileste thei have foughte, taken an Ansigne out of their owne\nmennes handes, and throwen it emongeste the enemies, and appoincted\nrewardes to hym that could get it again. I doe not beleve that it is out\nof purpose, to joyne to this reasonyng those thynges, whiche chaunce\nafter the faight, in especially beyng brief thinges, and not to be left\nbehinde, and to this reasonyng conformable inough. Therefore I saie, how\nthe fielde is loste, or els wonne: when it is wonne, the victorie ought\nwith all celeritie to be folowed, and in this case to imitate Cesar, and\nnot Aniball, whom staiyng after that he had discomfited the Romaines at\nCanne, loste the Empire of Rome: The other never rested after the\nvictorie, but folowed the enemie beyng broken, with greater violence and\nfurie, then when he assalted hym whole: but when a capitaine dooeth\nloese, he ought to see, if of the losse there maie growe any utilite\nunto hym, inespecially if there remain any residue of tharmie. The\ncommoditie maie growe of the small advertisment of the enemie, whom\nmoste often times after the victorie, becometh negligent, and giveth\nthee occasion to oppresse hym, as Marcius a Romaine oppressed the armie\nof the Carthaginers, whom having slain the twoo Scipions, and broken\ntheir armie, not estemyng thesame remnaunt of menne, whiche with Marcius\nremained a live, were of hym assaulted and overthrowen: for that it is\nseen, that there is no thing so moche to bee brought to passe, as\nthesame, whiche the enemie thinketh, that thou canst not attempte:\nbicause for the moste parte, men bee hurte moste, where thei doubt\nleaste: therefore a capitain ought when he cannot doe this, to devise at\nleast with diligence, that the losse bee lesse hurtfull, to dooe this,\nit is necessarie for thee to use meanes, that the enemie maie not easely\nfolowe thee, or to give him occasion to make delaie: in the first case,\nsome after thei have been sure to lese, have taken order with their\nheddes, that in divers partes, and by divers waies thei should flie,\nhavyng appoincted wher thei should after assemble together: the which\nmade, that thenemie (fearing to devide the armie) was faine to let go\nsafe either all, or the greatest part of them. In the seconde case, many\nhave cast before the enemie, their dearest thinges, to the entent that\nhe tariyng about the spoile, might give them more laisure to flie. Titus\nDimius used no small policie to hide the losse, whiche he had received\nin the faight, for asmoche as havyng fought untill night, with great\nlosse of his menne, he made in the night to be buried, the greatest part\nof them, wherefore in the mornyng, the enemies seyng so many slaine of\ntheirs, and so fewe of the Romaines, belevyng that thei had the\ndisavauntage, ran awaie. I trust I have thus confusedly, as I saied,\nsatisfied in good part your demaunde: in dede about the facions of the\narmies, there resteth me to tell you, how some tyme, by some Capitaines,\nit hath been used to make theim with the fronte, like unto a wedge,\njudgyng to bee able by soche meane, more easely to open the enemies\narmie. Against this facion, thei have used to make a facion like unto a\npaire of sheres, to be able betwene thesame voide place, to receive that\nwedge, and to compasse it about, and to faight with it on every side:\nwhereupon I will that you take this generall rule, that the greatest\nremedie that is used againste a devise of the enemie, is to dooe\nwillingly thesame, whiche he hath devised that thou shalt dooe perforce:\nbicause that doyng it willingly, thou doest it with order, and with thy\nadvauntage, and his disadvauntage, if thou shouldest doe it beyng\ninforced, it should be thy undoyng: For the provyng whereof, I care not\nto reherse unto you, certain thynges alredy tolde. The adversary maketh\nthe wedge to open thy bandes: if thou gowest with them open, thou\ndisorderest hym, and he disordereth not thee. Aniball set the Elephantes\nin the fronte of his armie, to open with theim the armie of Scipio.\nScipio went with it open, and it was the occasion of his victorie, and\nof the ruine of hym. Asdruball placed his strongest men in the middest\nof the fronte of his armie, to overthrowe Scipios menne: Scipio\ncommaunded, that by them selves thei should retire and he broke theim:\nSo that like devises when thei are foreseen, bee the causes of the\nvictorie of him, against whom thei be prepared. There remaineth me also,\nif I remember my self well, to tell you what respectes a Capitaine ought\nto have, before he leade his men to faight: upon whiche I have to tell\nyou firste, how a capitaine ought never to faight a battaile, except he\nhave advauntage, or be constrained. The vantage groweth of the\nsituacion, of the order, of havyng more, or better menne: the necessitie\ngroweth when thou seest how that not faightyng, thou muste in any wise\nlose, as should bee for lackyng of money, and for this, thy armie to bee\nready all maner of waies to resolve, where famishemente is ready to\nassaulte thee, where the enemie looketh to bee ingrosed with newe men:\nin these cases, thou oughtest alwaies to faight, although with thy\ndisadvauntage: for that it is moche better to attempte fortune, where\nshe maie favour thee, then not attemptyng, to see thy certaine ruine:\nand it is as grevous a faulte in this case, in a capitain not to faight,\nas to have had occasion to overcome, and not to have either knowen it\nthrough ignoraunce, or lefte it through vilenesse. The advauntages some\ntymes the enemie giveth thee, and some tymes thy prudence: Many in\npassyng Rivers have been broken of their enemie, that hath been aware\nthereof, whom hath taried, till the one halfe hath been of the one side,\nand the other halfe on the other, and then hath assaulted them: as Cesar\ndid to the Suizzers, where he destroied the fowerth parte of theim,\nthrough beyng halfe over a river. Some tyme thy enemie is founde wearie,\nfor havyng folowed thee to undescritely, so that findyng thy self freshe\nand lustie, thou oughtest not to let passe soche an occasion: besides\nthis, if the enemie offer unto thee in the mornyng betymes to faight,\nthou maiest a good while deferre to issue out of thy lodgyng, and when\nhe hath stoode long in armour, and that he hath loste that same firste\nheate, with the whiche he came, thou maiest then faight with him. This\nwaie Scipio and Metellus used in Spaine: the one against Asdruball, the\nother against Sertorius. If the enemie be deminished of power, either\nfor havyng devided the armie, as the Scipions in Spain, or for some\nother occasion, thou oughteste to prove chaunce. The greateste parte of\nprudent capitaines, rather receive the violence of the enemies, then go\nwith violence to assalte them: for that the furie is easely withstoode\nof sure and steddie menne, and the furie beyng sustained, converteth\nlightly into vilenesse: Thus Fabius did againste the Sannites, and\nagainst the Galles, and was victorious and his felowe Decius remained\nslain. Some fearing the power of their enemies, have begun the faight a\nlittle before night, to the intent that their men chaunsyng to bee\novercome, might then by the helpe of the darkenesse thereof, save theim\nselves. Some havyng knowen, how the enemies armie beyng taken of\ncertaine supersticion, not to faight in soche a tyme, have chosen\nthesame tyme to faighte, and overcome: The whiche Cesar observed in\nFraunce, againste Arionistus, and Vespasian in Surrie, againste the\nJewes. The greatest and moste importaunte advertismente, that a\ncapitaine ought to have, is to have aboute hym faithfull menne, that are\nwise and moste expert in the warre, with whom he must continually\nconsulte and reason of his men, and of those of the enemies, whiche is\nthe greater nomber, whiche is beste armed, or beste on horsebacke, or\nbest exercised, whiche be moste apte to suffer necessitie, in whom he\ntrusteth moste, either in the footemen, or in the horsemen: after thei\nought to consider the place where thei be, and whether it be more to the\npurpose for thenemie, then for him: which of theim hath victualles moste\ncommodious: whether it be good to deferre the battaile, or to faight it:\nwhat good might bee given hym, or taken awaie by tyme: for that many\ntymes, souldiours seyng the warre to be delaied, are greved, and beyng\nwearie, in the pain and in the tediousnesse therof, wil forsake thee. It\nimporteth above all thyng, to knowe the capitain of the enemies, and\nwhom he hath aboute hym, whether he be rashe, or politike, whether he be\nfearfull, or hardie: to see how thou maiest truste upon the aidyng\nsouldiours. And above all thyng thou oughtest to take hede, not to\nconducte the armie to faight when it feareth, or when in any wise it\nmistrusteth of the victorie: for that the greatest signe to lose, is\nthei beleve not to be able to winne: and therfore in this case, thou\noughtest to avoide the faightyng of the fielde, either with doyng as\nFabius Maximus, whom incampyng in strong places, gave no courage to\nAniball, to goe to finde hym, or when thou shouldest thinke, that the\nenemie also in strong places, would come to finde thee, to departe out\nof the fielde, and to devide the menne into thy tounes to thentent that\ntediousnesse of winnyng them, maie wearie hym.\n\nZANOBI. Cannot the faightyng of the battaile be otherwise avoided, then\nin devidyng the armie in sunderie partes and placyng the men in tounes?\n\n[Sidenote: Fabius Maximus.]\n\nFABRICIO. I beleve that ones alreadie, with some of you I have reasoned,\nhow that he, that is in the field, cannot avoide to faight the battaile,\nwhen he hath an enemie, which will faight with hym in any wise, and he\nhath not, but one remedie, and that is, to place him self with his armie\ndistant fiftie miles at leaste, from his adversarie, to be able betymes\nto avoide him, when he should go to finde hym. For Fabius Maximus never\navoided to faight the battaile with Aniball, but he would have it with\nhis advauntage: and Aniball did not presume to bee able to overcome hym,\ngoyng to finde hym in the places where he incamped: where if he had\npresupposed, to have been able to have overcome, it had been conveniente\nfor Fabius, to have fought the battaile with hym, or to have avoided.\n\n[Sidenote: Philip king of Macedonia, overcome by the Romaines; How\nCingentorige avoided the faightyng of the fielde with Cesar; The\nignorance of the Venecians; What is to be doen wher soldiours desire to\nfaight, contrary to their capitaines minde; How to incourage souldiers;\nAn advertisment to make the soldiour most obstinately to faight.]\n\nPhilip Kyng of Macedonia, thesame that was father to Perse, commyng to\nwarre with the Romaines, pitched his campe upon a verie high hill, to\nthe entent not to faight with theim: but the Romaines wente to find hym\non thesame hill, and discomfaited hym. Cingentorige capitain of the\nFrenche menne, for that he would not faight the field with Cesar, whom\ncontrarie to his opinion, had passed a river, got awaie many miles with\nhis men. The Venecians in our tyme, if thei would not have come to have\nfought with the Frenche kyng, thei ought not to have taried till the\nFrenche armie, had passed the River Addus, but to have gotten from them\nas Cingentorige, where thei havyng taried knewe not how to take in the\npassyng of the men, the occasion to faight the battaile, nor to avoide\nit: For that the Frenche men beyng nere unto them, as the Venecians went\nout of their Campe, assaulted theim, and discomfited theim: so it is,\nthat the battaile cannot bee avoided, when the enemie in any wise will\nfaight, nor let no man alledge Fabius, for that so moche in thesame\ncase, he did flie the daie of battaile, as Aniball. It happeneth many\ntymes, that thy souldiours be willyng to faight, and thou knoweste by\nthe nomber, and by the situacion, or for some other occasion to have\ndisadvauntage, and desirest to make them chaunge from this desire: it\nhappeneth also, that necessitie, or occasion, constraineth thee to\nfaight, and that thy souldiours are evill to be trusted, and smally\ndisposed to faight: where it is necessarie in thone case, to make theim\nafraied, and in the other to incourage theim: In the firste case, when\nperswacions suffiseth not, there is no better waie, then to give in\npraie, a part of them unto thenemie, to thintent those that have, and\nthose that have not fought, maie beleve thee: and it may very wel be\ndoen with art, thesame which to Fabius Maximus hapned by chaunce.\nTharmie of Fabius (as you knowe) desired to faight with Aniballs armie:\nthe very same desire had the master of his horses: to Fabius it semed\nnot good, to attempte the faight: so that through soche contrary\nopinions, he was fain to devide the armie: Fabius kept his men in the\ncampe, the other fought, and commyng into great perill, had been\noverthrowen, if Fabius had not rescued him: by the whiche insample the\nmaister of the horse, together with all the armie, knewe how it was a\nwise waie to obeie Fabius. Concernyng to incourage theim to faight, it\nshould be well doen, to make them to disdain the enemies, shewyng how\nthei speake slaunderous woordes of them, to declare to have intelligence\nwith them, and to have corrupted part of them, to incampe in place,\nwhere thei maie see the enemies, and make some light skirmishe with\nthem, for that the thyng that is dailie seen, with more facilitie is\ndespised: to shewe theim to bee unworthie, and with an oracion for the\npurpose, to reprehende them of their cowardnesse, and for to make them\nashamed, to tell theim that you will faight alone, when thei will not\nbeare you companie. And you ought above all thyng to have this\nadvertismente, mindyng to make the Souldiour obstinate to faight, not to\npermitte, that thei maie send home any of their substaunce, or to leave\nit in any place, till the warre bee ended, that thei maie understande,\nthat although fliyng save their life, yet it saveth not theim their\ngoodes, the love whereof, is wonte no lesse then thesame, to make men\nobstinate in defence.\n\nZANOBI. YOU have tolde, how the souldiours maie be tourned to faight,\nwith speakyng to theim: doe you meane by this, that all the armie must\nbee spoken unto, or to the heddes thereof?\n\n[Sidenote: It is requisite for excellent Capitaines to bee good orators;\nAlexander Magnus used openly to perswade his armie; The effecteousnes of\nspeking; Souldiours ought to be accustomed to heare their Capitaine\nspeake; How in olde time souldiers were threatened for their faltes;\nEnterprises maie the easelier be brought to passe by meanes of religion;\nSertorius; A policie of Silla; A policie of Charles the seventh king of\nFraunce against the Englishmen; How souldiers maiebee made to esteme\nlittle their enemies; The surest wai to make souldiours moste obstinat\nto faight; By what meanes obstinatenesse to faighte is increased.]\n\nFABRICIO. TO perswade, or to diswade a thyng unto fewe, is verie easie,\nfor that if woordes suffise not, you maie then use aucthoritie and\nforce: but the difficultie is, to remove from a multitude an evill\nopinion, and that whiche is contrary either to the common profite, or to\nthy opinion, where cannot be used but woordes, the whiche is meete that\nthei be heard of every man, mindyng to perswade them all. Wherfore, it\nwas requisite that the excellente Capitaines were oratours: for that\nwithout knowyng how to speake to al the army, with difficultie maie be\nwrought any good thing: the whiche altogether in this our tyme is laied\naside. Rede the life of Alexander Magnus, and you shall see how many\ntymes it was necessarie for hym to perswade, and to speake publikly to\nhis armie: otherwise he should never have brought theim, beyng become\nriche, and full of spoile, through the desertes of Arabia, and into\nIndia with so moche his disease, and trouble: for that infinite tymes\nthere growe thynges, wherby an armie ruinateth, when the capitain either\nknoweth not, or useth not to speake unto thesame, for that this speakyng\ntaketh awaie feare, in courageth the mindes, increaseth the obstinatenes\nto faight, discovereth the deceiptes, promiseth rewardes, sheweth the\nperilles, and the waie to avoide theim, reprehendeth, praieth,\nthreatened, filleth full of hope, praise, shame, and doeth a11 those\nthynges, by the whiche the humaine passions are extincte or kendled:\nwherefore, that prince, or common weale, whiche should appoincte to make\na newe power, and cause reputacion to their armie, ought to accustome\nthe Souldiours thereof, to heare the capitain to speake, and the\ncapitain to know how to speake unto them. In kepyng desposed the\nsouldiours in old tyme, to faight for their countrie, the religion\navailed moche, and the othes whiche thei gave them, when thei led theim\nto warfare: for as moche as in al their faultes, thei threatned them not\nonely with those punishementes, whiche might be feared of men but with\nthose whiche of God might be looked for: the whiche thyng mingled with\nthe other Religious maners, made many tymes easie to the auncient\ncapitaines all enterprises, and will doe alwaies, where religion shall\nbe feared, and observed. Sertorius prevailed, by declaryng that he spake\nwith a Stagge, the whiche in Goddes parte, promised hym the victorie.\nSilla saied, he spoke with an Image, whiche he had taken out of the\nTemple of Apollo. Many have tolde how God hath appered unto them in\ntheir slepe, whom hath admonished them to faight. In our fathers time,\nCharles the seventh kyng of Fraunce, in the warre whiche he made\nagainste the Englishemen, saied, he counsailed with a maide, sent from\nGod, who was called every where the Damosell of Fraunce, the which was\noccacion of his victorie. There maie be also used meanes, that maie make\nthy men to esteme little the enemie, as Agesilao a Spartaine used, whom\nshewed to his souldiours, certain Persians naked, to the intent that\nseyng their delicate members, thei should not have cause to feare them.\nSome have constrained their men to faight through necessitie, takyng\nawaie from them all hope of savyng theim selves, savyng in overcommyng.\nThe whiche is the strongest, and the beste provision that is made, to\npurpose to make the souldiour obstinate to faight: whiche obstinatenesse\nis increased by the confidence, and love of the Capitaine, or of the\ncountrie. Confidence is caused through the armour, the order the late\nvictorie, and the opinion of the Capitaine. The love of the countrie, is\ncaused of nature: that of the Capitain, through vertue, more then by any\nother benefite: the necessities maie be many, but that is strongest,\nwhiche constraineth thee; either to overcome, or to dye.\n\n\n\n\nTHE FIVETH BOOKE\n\n\n[Sidenote: How the Romaines marched with their armies; How the Romaines\nordered their armie when it happened to be assaulted on the waie; How\nthe main battailes ought to marche; The orderyng of an armie after soche\nsorte, that it maie marche safelie through the enemies countrie and be\nalwaies in a redines to faight; The place in the armie wher the bowmen\nand Harkabutters are appoincted; The place in the armie wher\nthextraordinarie Pikes are appoincted. The place in the armie wherthe\ngenerall capitain must be; Where the artillerie must be placed. The\nlight horsmenne must be sente before to discover the countrie and the\nmenne of armes to come behind tharmy; A generall rule concernyng horse;\nWher the carriages and the unarmed are placed; The waie must be made\nplaine wher the armie shall marche in order; How many miles a day an\narmie maie marche in battaile raie, to bee able to incampe before sunne\nset; The orderyng of the armie, when it is assaulted on the vawarde; The\norderyng of tharmie when thenemie commes to assaulte it behinde; How the\narmie is ordered when it is assaulted of any of the sides; doen when the\narmy is assaulted on twoo sides.]\n\nFABRICIO. I have shewed you, how an armi, is ordained to faight a fielde\nwith an other armie, which is seen pitched against it, and have declared\nunto you, howe the same is overcome, and after many circumstaunces, I\nhave likewise shewed you, what divers chaunces, maie happen about\nthesame, so that me thinkes tyme to shewe you now, how an armie is\nordered, againste thesame enemie, whiche otherwise is not seen, but\ncontinually feared, that he assaulte thee: this happeneth when an armie\nmarcheth through the enemies countrie, or through suspected places.\nFirste, you must understande, how a Romaine armie, sent alwaies\nordinarely afore, certaine bandes of horsemen, as spies of the waie:\nafter followed the right horne, after this, came all the carriages,\nwhiche to thesame apperteined, after this, came a Legion, after it, the\ncarriages therof, after that, an other legion, and next to it, their\ncarriages, after whiche, came the left horne, with the carriages thereof\nat their backe, and in the laste part, folowed the remnaunte of the\nchivalrie: this was in effecte the maner, with whiche ordinarily thei\nmarched: and if it happened that the armie were assaulted in the waie on\nthe fronte, or on the backe, thei made straight waie all the carriages\nto bee drawen, either on the right, or on the lefte side, accordyng as\nchaunsed, or as thei could beste, havyng respecte to the situacion: and\nall the men together free from their impedimentes, made hedde on that\nparte, where the enemie came. If thei were assaulted on the flancke,\nthei drue the carriages towardes thesame parte that was safe, and of the\nother, thei made hedde. This waie beyng well and prudently governed, I\nhave thought meete to imitate, sending afore the light horsemen, as\nexploratours of the Countrie: Then havyng fower maine battailes I would\nmake them to marche in araie, and every one with their carriages\nfolowyng theim. And for that there be twoo sortes of carriages, that is\npartainyng to particulare souldiours, and partainyng to the publike use\nof all the Campe, I would devide the publike Carriages into fower\npartes, and to every maine battaile, I would appoinct his parte,\ndeviding also the artillerie into fower partes, and all the unarmed, so\nthat every nomber of armed menne, should equally have their\nimpedimentes. But bicause it happeneth some times, that thei marche\nthrough the countrie, not onely suspected, but so daungerous, that thou\nfearest every hower to be assaulted, thou art constrained for to go more\nsure, to chaunge the forme of marchyng, and to goe in soche wise\nprepared, that neither the countrie menne, nor any armie, maie hurte\nthee, findyng thee in any parte unprovided. In soche case, the aunciente\ncapitaines were wont, to marche with the armie quadrante, whiche so thei\ncalled this forme, not for that it was altogether quadrante, but for\nthat it was apte to faight of fower partes, and thei saied, that thei\nwente prepared, bothe for the waie, and for the faight: from whiche\nwaie, I will not digresse, and I will ordaine my twoo maine battailes,\nwhiche I have taken for to make an armie of, to this effect. Mindyng\ntherefore, to marche safely through the enemies Countrie, and to bee\nable to aunswere hym on every side, when at unwares the armie might\nchaunce to be assaulted, and intendyng therefore, accordyng to the\nantiquitie, to bryng thesame into a square, I would devise to make a\nquadrant, that the rome therof should be of space on every part Clix.\nyardes, in this maner. First I would put the flanckes, distant the one\nflanck from the other, Clix. yardes, and I would place five battailes\nfor a flancke, in a raie in length, and distant the one from the other,\ntwoo yardes and a quarter: the whiche shall occupie with their spaces,\nevery battaile occupiyng thirtie yardes, Clix. yardes. Then betwen the\nhedde and the taile of these two flanckes, I would place the other tenne\nbattailes, in every parte five, orderyng them after soche sorte, that\nfower should joyne to the hedde of the right flanck, and fower to the\ntaile of the lefte flancke, leaving betwene every one of them, a\ndistance of thre yardes: one should after joyne to the hedde of the\nlefte flancke, and one to the taile of the right flancke: and for that\nthe space that is betwene the one flancke and the other, is Clix.\nyardes, and these battailes whiche are set the one to the side of the\nother by breadth, and not by length, will come to occupie with the\ndistaunces one hundred yardes and a halfe yarde, there shall come\nbetwene theim fower battailes, placed in the fronte on the right\nflancke, and the one placed in thesame on the lefte, to remaine a space\nof fiftie and eighte yardes and a halfe, and the verie same space will\ncome to remaine in the battailes, placed in the hinder parte: nor there\nshall bee no difference, saving that the one space shall come on the\nparte behind towardes the right horne, and thother shall come on the\nparte afore, towardes the lefte home. In the space of the lviii. yardes\nand a halfe before, I would place all the ordinarie Veliti, in thesame\nbehinde, the extraordinarie, which wil come to be a thousande for a\nspace, and mindyng to have the space that ought to be within the armie,\nto be every waie Clix. yardes, it is mete that the five battailes,\nwhiche are placed in the hedde, and those whiche are placed in the\ntaile, occupie not any parte of the space, whiche the flanckes keepe:\nand therefore it shall be convenient, that the five battailes behinde,\ndoe touche with the fronte, the taile of their flanckes, and those\nafore, with the taile to touche he hedde, after soche sorte, that upon\nevery corner of the ame armie, there maie remaine a space, to receive an\nother battaile: and for that there bee fower spaces, I would take fower\nbandes of the extraordinarie Pikes, and in every corner I would place\none, and the twoo Ansignes of the foresaied Pikes, whiche shall remain\noverplus, I would sette in the middest of the rome of this armie, in a\nsquare battaile, on the hedde whereof, should stande the generall\ncapitaine, with his menne about him. And for that these battailes\nordeined thus, marche all one waie, but faight not all one waie, in\nputtyng them together, those sides ought to be ordained to faight,\nwhiche are not defended of thother battailes. And therfore it ought to\nbe considered, that the five battailes that be in the front, have all\ntheir other partes defended, excepte the fronte: and therfore these\nought to bee put together in good order, and with the Pikes afore. The\nfive battailes whiche are behinde, have all their sides defended, except\nthe parte behinde, and therefore those ought to bee put together in\nsoche wise, that the Pikes come behind, as in the place therof we shall\nshewe. The five battailes that bee in the right flancke, have all their\nsides defended, except the right flancke. The five that be on the left\nflanck, have all their partes defended, excepte the lefte flancke: and\ntherefore in orderyng the battailes, thei ought to bee made, that the\nPikes maie tourne on the same flanck, that lieth open: and the\nPeticapitaines to stand on the hedde, and on the taile, so that nedyng\nto faight, all the armour and weapons maie be in their due places, the\nwaie to doe this, is declared where we reasoned of the maner of orderyng\nthe battailes. The artillerie I would devide, and one parte I would\nplace without, on the lefte flancke, and the other on the right. The\nlight horsemen, I would sende afore to discover the countrie. Of the\nmenne of armes, I would place part behinde, on the right home, and parte\non the lefte, distante about thirtie yardes from the battailes: and\nconcerning horse, you have to take this for a general rule in every\ncondicion, where you ordaine an armie, that alwaies thei ought to be\nput, either behinde, or on the flanckes of thesame: he that putteth them\nafore, over against the armie, it behoveth hym to doe one of these twoo\nthinges, either that he put them so moche afore, that beyng repulced,\nthei maie have so moche space, that maie give them tyme, to be able to\ngo a side from thy footemen, and not to runne upon them, or to order\nthem in soche wise, with so many spaces, that the horses by those maie\nenter betwene them, without disorderyng them. Nor let no man esteme\nlittle this remembraunce, for as moche as many capitaines, whom havyng\ntaken no hede thereof, have been ruinated, and by themselves have been\ndisordered, and broken. The carriages and the unarmed menne are placed,\nin the rome that remaineth within the armie, and in soche sorte equally\ndevided, that thei maie give the waie easely, to whom so ever would go,\neither from the one corner to the other, or from the one hedde, to the\nother of the armie. These battailes without the artillerie and the\nhorse, occupie every waie from the utter side, twoo hundred and eleven\nyardes and a halfe of space: and bicause this quadrante is made of twoo\nmain battailes, it is convenient to distinguishe, what part thone maine\nbattaile maketh, and what the other: and for that the main battailes are\ncalled by the nomber, and every of theim hath (as you knowe) tenne\nbattailes, and a generall hed, I would cause that the first main\nbattaile, should set the first v. battailes therof in the front, the\nother five, in the left flanck, and the capitain of the same should\nstande in the left corner of the front. The seconde maine battaile,\nshould then put the firste five battailes therof, in the right flanck,\nand the other five in the taile, and the hedde capitain of thesame,\nshould stande in the right corner, whom should come to dooe the office\nof the Tergiductor. The armie ordained in this maner, ought to be made\nto move, and in the marchyng, to observe all this order, and without\ndoubte, it is sure from all the tumultes of the countrie men. Nor the\ncapitain ought not to make other provision, to the tumultuarie\nassaultes, then to give sometyme Commission to some horse, or Ansigne of\nVeliti, that thei set themselves in order: nor it shall never happen\nthat these tumultuous people, will come to finde thee at the drawyng of\nthe swerd, or pikes poincte: for that men out of order, have feare of\nthose that be in araie: and alwaies it shall bee seen, that with cries\nand rumours, thei will make a greate assaulte, without otherwise commyng\nnere unto thee, like unto barking curres aboute a Mastie. Aniball when\nhe came to the hurte of the Romaines into Italie, he passed through all\nFraunce, and alwaies of the Frenche tumultes, he took small regarde.\nMindyng to marche, it is conveniente to have plainers and labourers\nafore, whom maie make thee the waie plaine, whiche shall bee garded of\nthose horsemen, that are sent afore to viewe the countrie: an armie in\nthis order maie marche tenne mile the daie, and shall have tyme inough\nto incampe, and suppe before Sunne goyng doune, for that ordinarely, an\narmie maie marche twentie mile: if it happen that thou be assaulted, of\nan armie set in order, this assaulte cannot growe sodainly: for that an\narmie in order, commeth with his pace, so that thou maiest have tyme\ninough, to set thy self in order to faight the field, and reduce thy\nmenne quickly into thesame facion, or like to thesame facion of an\narmie, which afore is shewed thee. For that if thou be assaulted, on the\nparte afore, thou needeste not but to cause, that the artillerie that be\non the flanckes, and the horse that be behinde, to come before, and\nplace theimselves in those places, and with those distaunces, as afore\nis declared. The thousande Veliti that bee before, must go out of their\nplace, and be devided into CCCCC. for a parte, and go into their place,\nbetwene the horse and the hornes of tharmy: then in the voide place that\nthei shal leave, the twoo Ansignes of the extraordinarie Pikes muste\nentre, whiche I did set in the middest of the quadrante of the armie.\nThe thousande Veliti, whiche I placed behinde, must departe from thesame\nplace, and devide them selves in the flanckes of the battailes, to the\nfortificacion of those: and by the open place that thei shal leave, all\nthe carriages and unarmed menne must go out, and place themselves on the\nbacke of the battaile. Then the rome in the middeste beyng voided, and\nevery man gone to his place: the five battailes, whiche I placed behinde\non the armie, must make forward in the voide place, that is betwene the\none and the other flanck, and marche towardes the battailes, that stand\nin the hedde, and three of theim, muste stande within thirtie yardes of\nthose, with equall distances, betwene the one and the other, and the\nother twoo shal remain behinde, distaunte other thirtie yardes: the\nwhiche facion maie bee ordained in a sodaine, and commeth almoste to bee\nlike, unto the firste disposicion, whiche of tharmy afore we shewed. And\nthough it come straighter in the fronte, it commeth grosser in the\nflanckes, whiche giveth it no lesse strength: but bicause the five\nbattailes, that be in the taile, have the Pikes on the hinder parte, for\nthe occasion that before we have declared, it is necessarie to make\ntheim to come on the parte afore, mindyng to have theim to make a backe\nto the front of tharmie: and therfore it behoveth either to make them to\ntourne battaile after battaile, as a whole body, or to make them quickly\nto enter betwen thorders of targettes, and conduct them afore, the\nwhiche waie is more spedy, and of lesse disorder, then to make them to\nturn al together: and so thou oughtest to doe of all those, whiche\nremain behind in every condicion of assault, as I shal shewe you. If it\nappere that thenemie come on the part behinde, the first thyng that\nought to bee dooen, is to cause that every man tourne his face where his\nbacke stode, and straight waie tharmie cometh to have made of taile,\nhed, and of hed taile: then al those waies ought to be kept, in orderyng\nthesame fronte, as I tolde afore. If the enemie come to incounter the\nright flancke, the face of thy armie ought to bee made to tourne\ntowardes thesame side: after, make all those thynges in fortificacion of\nthesame hedde, whiche above is saied, so that the horsemen, the Veliti,\nand the artillerie, maie be in places conformable to the hed thereof:\nonely you have this difference, that in variyng the hed of those, which\nare transposed, some have to go more, and some lesse. In deede makyng\nhedde of the right flancke, the Veliti ought to enter in the spaces,\nthat bee betwene the horne of the armie, and those horse, whiche were\nnerest to the lefte flancke, in whose place ought to enter, the twoo\nAnsignes of the extraordinarie Pikes, placed in the middest: But firste\nthe carriages and the unarmed, shall goe out by the open place, avoidyng\nthe rome in the middest, and retiryng themselves behinde the lefte\nflancke, whiche shall come to bee then the taile of the armie: the other\nVeliti that were placed in the taile, accordyng to the principall\norderyng of the armie, in this case, shall not move: Bicause the same\nplace should not remaine open, whiche of taile shall come to be flancke:\nall other thyng ought to bee dooen, as in orderyng of the firste hedde\nis saied: this that is told about the makyng hed of the right flanck,\nmust be understode to be told, havyng nede to make it of the left\nflanck: for that the very same order ought to bee observed. If the\nenemie should come grose, and in order to assaulte thee on twoo sides,\nthose twoo sides, whiche he commeth to assaulte thee on, ought to bee\nmade stronge with the other twoo sides, that are not assaulted, doublyng\nthe orders in eche of theim, and devidyng for bothe partes the\nartillerie, the Veliti, and the horse. If he come on three or on fower\nsides, it is necessarie that either thou or he lacke prudence: for that\nif thou shalt bee wise, thou wilte never putte thy self in place, that\nthe enemie on three or fower sides, with a greate nomber of men, and in\norder, maie assault thee: for that mindyng, safely to hurte thee, it is\nrequisit, that he be so great, that on every side, he maie assault thee,\nwith as many men, as thou haste almoste in al thy army: and if thou be\nso unwise, that thou put thy self in the daunger and force of an enemie,\nwhom hath three tymes more menne ordained then thou, if thou catche\nhurte, thou canste blame no man but thy self: if it happen not through\nthy faulte, but throughe some mischaunce, the hurt shall be without the\nshame, and it shal chaunce unto thee, as unto the Scipions in Spaine,\nand to Asdruball in Italie but if the enemie have not many more men then\nthou, and intende for to disorder thee, to assaulte thee on divers\nsides, it shal be his foolishnesse, and thy good fortune: for as moche\nas to doe so, it is convenient, that he become so thinne in soche wise,\nthat then easely thou maiste overthrow one bande, and withstande an\nother, and in short time ruinate him: this maner of ordering an armie\nagainst an enemie, whiche is not seen, but whiche is feared, is a\nnecessarie and a profitable thing, to accustome thy souldiours, to put\nthemselves together, and to march with soche order, and in marchyng, to\norder theimselves to faight, accordyng to the first hedde, and after to\nretourne in the forme, that thei marched in, then to make hedde of the\ntaile, after, of the flanckes, from these, to retourne into the first\nfacion: the whiche exercises and uses bee necessarie, mindyng to have an\narmie, throughly instructed and practised: in whiche thyng the Princes\nand the capitaines, ought to take paine. Nor the discipline of warre is\nno other, then to knowe how to commaunde, and to execute these thynges.\nNor an instructed armie is no other, then an armie that is wel practised\nin these orders: nor it cannot be possible, that who so ever in this\ntime, should use like disciplin shall ever bee broken. And if this\nquadrante forme whiche I have shewed you, is somewhat difficulte, soche\ndifficultnesse is necessarie, takyng it for an exercise: for as moche as\nknowyng well, how to set theim selves in order, and to maintaine theim\nselves in the same, thei shall knowe after more easely, how to stand in\nthose, whiche should not have so moche difficultie.\n\nZANOBI. I beleve as you saie, that these orders bee verie necessarie,\nand I for my parte, knowe not what to adde or take from it: true it is,\nthat I desire to know of you twoo thynges, the one, if when you will\nmake of the taile, or of the flancke hedde, and would make them to\ntourne, whether this be commaunded by the voice, or with the sounde:\nthother, whether those that you sende afore, to make plain the waie, for\nthe armie to marche, ought to be of the verie same souldiours of your\nbattailes, or other vile menne appoincted, to like exercise.\n\n[Sidenote: Commaundementes of Capitaines being not wel understoode, maie\nbe the destruction of an armie; Respect that is to be had in\ncommaundementes made with the sounde of the Trompet; In commaundmentes\nmade with the voice, what respect is to be had; Of Pianars.]\n\nFABRICIO. Your firste question importeth moche: for that many tymes the\ncommaundementes of Capitaines, beyng not well understoode, or evill\ninterpreted, have disordered their armie: therfore the voices, with the\nwhiche thei commaunde in perilles, ought to bee cleare, and nete. And if\nthou commaunde with the sounde, it is convenient to make, that betwene\nthe one waie and the other, there be so moche difference, that the one\ncannot be chaunged for the other: and if thou commaundest with the\nvoice, thou oughteste to take heede, that thou flie the general voices,\nand to use the particulares, and of the particulars, to flie those,\nwhiche maie be interpreted sinisterly. Many tymes the saiyng backe,\nbacke, hath made to ruinate an armie; therfore this voice ought not to\nbe used, but in steede therof to use, retire you. If you will make theim\nto tourne, for to chaunge the hedde, either to flanck, or to backe, use\nnever to saie tourne you, but saie to the lefte, to the right, to the\nbacke, to the front: thus all the other voices ought to be simple, and\nnete, as thrust on, march, stande stronge, forwarde, retourne you: and\nall those thynges, whiche maie bee dooen with the voice, thei doe, the\nother is dooen with the sounde. Concernyng those menne, that must make\nthe waies plaine for the armie to marche, whiche is your seconde\nquestion, I would cause my owne souldiours to dooe this office, as well\nbicause in the aunciente warfare thei did so, as also for that there\nshould be in the armie, lesser nomber of unarmed men, and lesse\nimpedimentes: and I would choose out of every battaile, thesame nomber\nthat should nede, and I would make theim to take the instrumentes, meete\nto plaine the grounde withall, and their weapons to leave with those\nrankes, that should bee nereste them, who should carrie them, and the\nenemie commyng, thei shall have no other to doe, then to take them\nagain, and to retourne into their araie.\n\nZANOBI. Who shall carrie thinstrumentes to make the waie plaine withall?\n\nFABRICIO. The Cartes that are appoincted to carrie the like\ninstrumentes.\n\nZANOBI. I doubte whether you should ever brynge these our souldiours, to\nlabour with Shovell or Mattocke, after soche sorte.\n\n[Sidenote: The victualles that thantiquitie made provision of, for their\narmies.]\n\nFABRICIO. All these thynges shall bee reasoned in the place thereof, but\nnow I will let alone this parte, and reason of the maner of the\nvictualing of the armie: for that me thinketh, havyng so moche\ntraivailed theim, it is tyme to refreshe them, and to comfort them with\nmeate. You have to understande, that a Prince ought to ordaine his\narmie, as expedite as is possible, and take from thesame all those\nthynges, whiche maie cause any trouble or burthen unto it, and make unto\nhym any enterprise difficulte. Emongest those thynges that causeth moste\ndifficultie, is to be constrained to keepe the armie provided of wine,\nand baked bread. The antiquitie cared not for Wine, for that lackyng it,\nthei dranke water, mingeled with a little vinegre, to give it a taste:\nFor whiche cause, emong the municions of victualles for the hoste,\nvineger was one, and not wine. Thei baked not the breade in Ovens, as\nthei use for Citees, but thei provided the Meale, and of thesame, every\nSouldiour after his owne maner, satisfied hym self, havyng for\ncondimente Larde and Baken, the whiche made the breade saverie, that\nthei made, and maintained theim strong, so that the provision of\nvictualles for the armie, was Meale, Vineger, Larde, and Bacon, and for\nthe horses Barley. Thei had ordinarely heardes of greate beastes and\nsmall, whiche folowed the armie, the whiche havyng no nede to bee\ncarried, caused not moche impedimente. Of this order there grewe, that\nan armie in old time, marched somtymes many daies through solitarie\nplaces, and difficulte, without sufferyng disease of victualles: for\nthat thei lived of thyngs, whiche easely thei might convey after them.\nTo the contrarie it happeneth in the armies, that are now a daies,\nwhiche mindyng not to lacke wine, and to eate baked breade in thesame\nmaner, as when thei are at home, whereof beyng not able to make\nprovision long, thei remaine often tymes famished, or though thei be\nprovided, it is dooen with disease, and with moste greate coste:\ntherfore I would reduce my armie to this maner of living: and I would\nnot that thei should eate other bread, then that, which by themselves\nthei should bake. Concernyng wine, I would not prohibite the drinkyng\nthereof, nor yet the commyng of it into the armie, but I would not use\nindevour, nor any labour for to have it, and in the other provisions, I\nwould governe my self altogether, like unto the antiquitie: the whiche\nthing, if you consider well, you shall see how moche difficultie is\ntaken awaie, and how moche trouble and disease, an armie and a capitaine\nis avoided of, and how moche commoditie shall bee given, to what so ever\nenterprise is to bee dooen.\n\nZANOBI. We have overcome thenemie in the field, marched afterward upon\nhis countrie, reason would, that spoiles be made, tounes sacked,\nprisoners taken, therefore I would knowe how the antiquitie in these\nthynges, governed them selves.\n\n[Sidenote: The occasions why the warres made nowe adaies, doe\nimpoverishe the conquerors as well as the conquered; The order that the\nRomaines toke, concerning the spoile and the booties that their\nsouldiours gotte; An order that the antiquitie tooke, concernyng their\nsoldiours wages.]\n\nFABRICIO. Beholde, I will satisfie you. I beleve you have considered,\nfor that once alredie with some of you I have reasoned, howe these\npresent warres, impoverishe as well those lordes that overcome, as those\nthat leese: for that if the one leese his estate, the other leeseth his\nmoney, and his movables: the whiche in olde time was not, for that the\nconquerour of the warre, waxed ritche. This groweth of keepyng no compte\nin these daies of the spoiles, as in olde tyme thei did, but thei leave\nit to the discreacion of the souldiours. This manner maketh twoo moste\ngreat disorders: the one, that whiche I have tolde: the other that the\nsouldiour becometh more covetous to spoyle, and lesse observeth the\norders: and manie times it hath been seen, howe the covetousnesse of the\npraye, hath made those to leese, whome were victorious. Therefore the\nRomaines whiche were princes of armies, provided to the one and to the\nother of these inconvenienses, ordainyng that all the spoyle should\napertaine to the publicke, and that the publicke after should bestowe\nit, as shoulde be thought good: and therfore thei had in tharmie the\nquestours, whom were as we would say, the chamberlaines, to whose charge\nall the spoyle and booties were committed: whereof the consull was\nserved to geve the ordinarie pay to the souldiours, to succour the\nwounded, and the sicke, and for the other businesse of the armie. The\nconsull might well, and he used it often, to graunte a spoyle to\nsoldiours: but this grauntyng, made no disorder: for that the armie\nbeyng broken all the pray was put in the middest, and distributed by\nhedde, accordyng to the qualitee of everie man: the which maner thei\nconstituted, to thintente, that the soldiours should attend to overcome,\nand not to robbe: and the Romaine Legions overcame the enemies, and\nfolowed them not, for that thei never departed from their orders: onely\nthere folowed them, the horsemenne with those that were light armed, and\nif there were any other souldiours then those of the legions, they\nlikewyse pursued the chase. Where if the spoyle shoulde have ben his\nthat gotte it, it had not ben possible nor reasonable, to have kepte the\nlegions steddie, and to withstonde manie perils; hereby grewe therefore,\nthat the common weale inritched, and every Consull carried with his\ntriumphe into the treasurie, muche treasure, whiche all was of booties\nand spoiles. An other thing the antiquetie did upon good consideration,\nthat of the wages, whiche they gave to every souldiour, the thirde parte\nthey woulde shoulde be laied up nexte to him, whome carried the ansigne\nof their bande, whiche never gave it them againe, before the warre was\nended: this thei did, beyng moved of twoo reasons, the first was to\nthintente, that the souldiour should thrive by his wages, because the\ngreatest parte of them beyng yonge men, and carelesse, the more thei\nhave, so muche the more without neede thei spende, the other cause was,\nfor that knowyng, that their movabelles were nexte to the ansigne, thei\nshould be constrained to have more care thereof, and with more\nobstinatenesse to defende it: and this made them stronge and to holde\ntogether: all which thynges is necessarie to observe, purposinge to\nreduce the exercise of armes unto the intier perfection therof.\n\nZANOBI. I beleeve that it is not possible, that to an armie that\nmarcheth from place to place, there fal not perrilous accidentes, where\nthe industerie of the capitaine is needefull, and the worthinesse of the\nsouldiours, mindyng to avoyde them. Therefore I woulde be glad, that you\nremembring any, would shew them.\n\n[Sidenote: Captaines mai incurre the daunger of ambusshes twoo maner of\nwayes; How to avoide the perill of ambusshes; Howe ambusshes have ben\nperceived; Howe the Capitaine of the enemies ought to be esteemed; Where\nmen be in greatest perill; The description of the countrey where an army\nmuste marche, is most requiset for a Capitaine to have; A most\nprofitable thyng it is for a capitayne to be secrete in all his\naffaires; An advertisment concernyng the marchyng of an armie; The\nmarching of an armie ought to be ruled by the stroke of the Drumme; The\ncondicion of the enemie ought to be considered.]\n\nFABRICIO. I shall contente you with a good will, beyng inespetially\nnecessarie, intendyng to make of this exercise a perfecte science. The\nCapitaines ought above all other thynges, whileste thei marche with an\narmie, to take heede of ambusshes, wherein they incurre daunger twoo\nwaies, either marchynge thou entrest into them, or thoroughe crafte of\nthe enemie thou arte trained in before thou arte aware. In the first\ncase, mindyng to avoide suche perill, it is necessarie to sende afore\ndouble warde, whome may discover the countrey, and so muche the more\ndilligence ought to be used, the more that the countrey is apte for\nambusshes, as be the woddie or hilly countries, for that alwaies thei be\nlayd either in a wodde, or behind a hille: and as the ambusshe not\nforseene, doeth ruin thee, so forseyng the same, it cannot hurte thee.\nManie tymes birdes or muche duste have discovered the enemie: for that\nalwayes where the enemie cometh to finde thee, he shall make great\nduste, whiche shall signifie unto thee his comyng: so often tymes a\nCapitaine seyng in the places where he ought to passe, Doves to rise, or\nother of those birdes that flie in flockes, and to tourne aboute and not\nto light, hath knowen by the same the ambusshe of the enemies to be\nthere, and sendynge before his men, and sertainely understandyng it,\nhath saved him selfe and hurte his enemie. Concernyng the seconde case,\nto be trained in, (which these our men cal to be drawen to the shot)\nthou ought to take heede, not straight way to beleve those thinges,\nwhich are nothyng reasonable, that thei be as they seeme: as shoulde be,\nif the enemie should set afore thee a praie, thou oughtest to beleeve\nthat in the same is the hooke, and that therin is hid the deceipte. If\nmany enemies be driven away by a fewe of thine, if a fewe enemies\nassaulte manie of thine, if the enemies make a sodeine flight, and not\nstandynge with reason, alwaies thou oughtest in suche cases to feare\ndeceipte, and oughtest never to beleeve that the enemie knoweth not how\nto doe his businesse, but rather intendyng that he may begile thee the\nlesse, and mindyng to stand in lesse peril, the weaker that he is, and\nthe lesse craftier that the enemie is, so muche the more thou oughtest\nto esteeme him: and thou muste in this case use twoo sundrie poinctes,\nfor that thou oughtest to feare him in thy minde and with the order, but\nwith wordes, and with other outewarde demonstracion, to seeme to dispyse\nhim: because this laste way, maketh that the souldiours hope the more to\nhave the victorie: the other maketh thee more warie, and lesse apte to\nbe begyled. And thou hast to understand, that when men marche thoroughe\nthe enemies countrey, they ar in muche more, and greater perils, then in\nfayghtyng the fielde: and therefore the Capitaine in marchyng, ought to\nuse double diligence: and the first thyng that he ought to doo, is to\nget described, and payncted oute all the countrie, thorough the which he\nmust marche, so that he maye know the places, the number, the distances,\nthe waies, the hilles, the rivers, the fennes, and all the quallites of\nthem: and to cause this to bee knowen, it is convenient to have with him\ndiversly, and in sundrie maners such men, as know the places, and to\naske them with diligence, and to se whether their talke agree, and\naccordyng to the agreyng therof, to note: he oughte also to sende afore\nthe horsemen, and with them prudente heddes, not so muche to discover\nthe enemie, as to viewe the countrey, to se whether it agree with the\ndescription, and with the knowledge that they have of the same. Also the\nguydes that are sente, ought to be kepte with hope of rewarde, and feare\nof paine. And above all thynges it ought to be provided, that the armie\nknowe not to what businesse he leadeth them: for that there is nothyng\nin the warre more profitable, then to keepe secret the thynges that is\nto be dooen: and to thintente a suddeine assaulte dooe not trouble thy\nsoldiours, thou oughteste to see them to stande reddie with their\nweapons, because the thynges that ar provided for, offend lesse. Manie\nfor to avoyde the confusion of marchyng, have placed under the\nstanderde, the carriages, and the unarmed, and have commaunded them to\nfolow the same, to the intente that in marchyng needyng to staye, or to\nretire, they might dooe it more easely, which thyng as profitable, I\nalowe very muche. Also in marchyng, advertismente ought to be had, that\nthe one parte of the armie goe not a sunder from the other, or that\nthoroughe some goyng fast, and some softe, the armie become not slender:\nthe whiche thynges, be occation of dissorder: therfore the heddes muste\nbe placed in suche wise, that they may maintaine the pace even, causing\nto goe softe those that goe to fast, and to haste forward the other that\ngoe to sloe, the whiche pace can not bee better ruled, then by the\nstroke of the drumme. The waies ought to be caused to be inlarged, so\nthat alwaies at least a bande of iiii. hundred men may marche in order\nof battaile. The custome and the qualitie of the enemie ought to be\nconsidered, and whether that he wil assaulte thee either in the mornyng,\nor at none or in the evenynge, and whether he be more puisante with\nfotemen or horsemen, and accordyng as thou understandest, to ordeine and\nto provide for thy self. But let us come to some particular accidente.\nIt hapneth sometime, that thou gettyng from the enemie, because thou\njudgest thy selfe inferiour, and therfore mindynge not to faight with\nhim, and he comyng at thy backe, thou arivest at the banke of a river,\npassyng over the which, asketh time, so that the enemie is redie to\novertake thee and to fayght with thee. Some, which chaunsing to bee in\nsuche perill, have inclosed their armie on the hinder parte with a\ndiche, and fillyng the same full of towe, and firyng it, have then\npassed with the armie without beyng able to be letted of the enemie, he\nbeyng by the same fire that was betwene them held backe.\n\n[Sidenote: Annone of Carthage.]\n\nZANOBI. I am harde of beliefe, that this fyre coulde stay theim, in\nespecially because I remember that I have harde, howe Annone of\nCarthage, beyng besieged of enemies, inclosed him selfe on the same\nparte, with wodde, which he did set on fire where he purposed to make\neruption. Wherfore the enemies beyng not intentive on the same parte to\nlooke to him, he made his armie to passe over the same flame, causing\nevery man to holde his Target before his face for to defend them from\nthe fire, and smoke.\n\n[Sidenote: Nabide a spartayne; Quintus Luttatius pollecie to passe over\na river; How to passe a ryver without a bridge; A polecie of Cesar to\npasse a river, where his enemie beyng on the other side therof sought to\nlette hym.]\n\nFABRICIO. You saye well: but consider you howe I have saied, and howe\nAnnone did: for as muche as I saied that they made a diche, and filled\nit with towe, so that he, that woulde passe over the same, should be\nconstrained to contende with the diche and with fire: Annone made the\nfire, without the diche, and because he intended to passe over it, he\nmade it not great, for that otherwise without the diche, it shoulde have\nletted him. Dooe you not knowe, that Nabide a Spartan beyng besieged in\nSparta of the Romaines, set fire on parte of his towne to let the way to\nthe Romaines, who alredie wer entred in? And by meane of the same flame\nnot onely hindered their way, but drave them oute: but let us turne to\nour matter. Quintus Luttatius a Romaine, havyng at his backe the Cimbri,\nand commyng to a river, to thentente the enemie should give him time to\npasse over, semed to geve time to them to faight with him: and therfore\nhe fained that he would lodge there, and caused trenches to be made, and\ncertaine pavilions to be erected, and sent certayne horsemen into the\ncountrie for forredge: so that the Cimbrise beleevyng, that he incamped,\nthey also incamped, and devided them selves into sundrie partes, to\nprovide for victuals, wherof Luttatius being aware, passed the river\nthey beyng not able to let him. Some for to passe a river havynge no\nbridge, have devided it, and one parte they have turned behynde their\nbackes, and the other then becomynge shalower, with ease they have\npassed it: when the rivers be swift, purposyng to have their footemen to\npasse safely, they place their strongest horses on the higher side, that\nthei may sustain the water, and an other parte be lowe that may succour\nthe men, if any of the river in passyng should be overcome with the\nwater: They passe also rivers, that be verie deepe, with bridges, with\nbotes, and with barrelles: and therfore it is good to have in a\nredinesse in an armie wherewith to be able to make all these thynges. It\nfortuneth sometime that in passyng a river, the enemie standynge agaynst\nthee on the other banke, doeth let thee: to minde to overcome this\ndifficultie, I know not a better insample to folow, then the same of\nCesar, whome havynge his armie on the banke of a river in Fraunce, and\nhis passage beynge letted of Vergintorige a Frenche man, the whiche on\nthe other side of the river had his men, marched many daies a longe the\nriver, and the like did the enemie: wherfore Cesar incamping in a woddie\nplace, apte to hide men, he tooke out of every legion three cohortes,\nand made them to tarie in the same place, commaundynge theim that so\nsoone as he was departed, they shoulde caste over a bridge, and should\nfortefie it, and he with his other menne folowed on the waye: wherfore\nVergintorige seyng the number of the legions, thinkyng that there was\nnot left anie parte of theim behinde, folowed also his way: but Cesar\nwhen he supposed that the bridge was made, tourned backewarde, and\nfindynge all thinges in order, passed the river without difficultee.\n\nZANOBI. Have ye any rule to know the foordes?\n\n[Sidenote: How to know the Foordes of a river.]\n\nFABRICIO. Yea, we have: alwaies the river, in that parte, whiche is\nbetwene the water, that is stilleste, and the water that runneth\nfastest, there is least depth and it is a place more meete to be looked\non, then any other where. For that alwaies in thesame place, the river\nis moste shallowest. The whiche thyng, bicause it hath been proved many\ntymes, is moste true.\n\nZANOBI. If it chaunce that the River hath marde the Foorde, so that the\nhorses sincke, what reamedy have you?\n\n[Sidenote: Howe to escape oute of a straight where the same is besette\nwith enemies; Howe Lutius Minutius escaped out of a strayght wherin he\nwas inclosed of his enemies; Howe some Capitaynes have suffered them\nselves to be compassed aboute of their enemies; A polecie of Marcus\nAntonius; A defence for the shotte of arrowes.]\n\nFABRICIO. The remedie is to make hardels of roddes whiche must be placed\nin the bottome of the river, and so to passe upon those: but let us\nfolowe our reasonyng. If it happen that a capitain be led with his\narmie, betwen two hilles, and that he have not but twoo waies to save\nhymself, either that before, or that behinde, and those beyng beset of\nthenemies, he hath for remidie to doe the same, which some have doen\nheretofore: that which have made on their hinder parte a greate trenche,\ndifficult to passe over, and semed to the enemie, to mynde to kepe him\nof, for to be able with al his power, without neding to feare behinde,\nto make force that waie, whiche before remaineth open. The whiche the\nenemies belevyng, have made theim selves stronge, towardes the open\nparte, and have forsaken the inclosed and he then castyng a bridge of\nwoode over the Trenche, for soche an effect prepared, bothe on thesame\nparte, with out any impedimente hath passed, and also delivered hymself\nout of the handes of the enemie. Lucius Minutus a Consul of Rome, was in\nLiguria with an armie, and was of the enemies inclosed, betwene certaine\nhilles, whereby he could not go out: therefore he sente certaine\nsouldiours of Numidia on horsebacke, whiche he had in his armie (whom\nwere evill armed, and upon little leane horses) towardes the places that\nwere kepte of the enemies, whom at the first sight made the enemies, to\norder theim selves together, to defende the passage: but after that thei\nsawe those men ill apoincted, and accordyng to their facion evill\nhorsed, regardyng theim little, enlarged the orders of their warde,\nwherof so sone as the Numidians wer a ware, givyng the spurres to their\nhorses, and runnyng violently upon theim, passed before thei could\nprovide any remedy, whom beyng passed, destroied and spoiled the\ncountrie after soche sorte, that thei constrained the enemies, to leave\nthe passage free to the armie of Lucius. Some capitaine, whiche hath\nperceived hymself to be assaulted of a greate multitude of enemies, hath\ndrawen together his men, and hath given to the enemie commoditie, to\ncompasse hym all about, and then on thesame part, whiche he hath\nperceived to be moste weake, hath made force, and by thesame waie, hath\ncaused to make waie, and saved hymself.\n\nMarcus Antonius retiryng before the armie of the Parthians, perceived\nhow the enemies every daie before Sunne risyng, when he removed,\nassaulted him, and all the waie troubled hym: in so moch, that he\ndetermined not to departe the nexte daie, before None: so that the\nParthians beleving, that he would not remove that daie, retourned to\ntheir tentes. Whereby Marcus Antonius might then all the reste of the\ndaie, marche without any disquietnesse. This self same man for to avoide\nthe arrowes of the Parthians, commaunded his men, that when the\nParthians came towardes them, thei should knele, and that the second\nranke of the battailes, should cover with their Targaettes, the heddes\nof the firste, the thirde, the seconde, the fowerth the third, and so\nsuccessively, that all the armie came, to be as it were under a\npentehouse, and defended from the shotte of the enemies. This is as\nmoche as is come into my remembraunce, to tell you, which maie happen\nunto an armie marchyng: therefore, if you remember not any thyng els, I\nwill passe to an other parte.\n\n\n\n\nTHE SIXTHE BOOKE\n\n\nZANOBI. I beleve that it is good, seyng the reasonyng must be chaunged,\nthat Baptiste take his office, and I to resigne myne, and wee shall come\nin this case, to imitate the good Capitaines (accordyng as I have nowe\nhere understoode of the gentilman) who place the beste souldiours,\nbefore and behinde the armie, semyng unto theim necessarie to have\nbefore, soche as maie lustely beginne the faight, and soche as behinde\nmaie lustely sustaine it. Now seyng Cosimus began this reasonyng\nprudently, Baptiste prudently shall ende it. As for Luigi and I, have in\nthis middeste intertained it, and as every one of us hath taken his part\nwillingly, so I beleve not, that Baptiste wil refuse it.\n\nBAPTISTE. I have let my self been governed hetherto, so I minde to doe\nstill. Therfore be contente sir, to folowe your reasonyng, and if we\ninterrupte you with this practise of ours, have us excused.\n\n[Sidenote: How the Grekes incamped; Howe the Romaines incamped; The\nmaner of the incamping of an armie; The lodging for the generall\ncapitaine.]\n\nFABRICIO. You dooe me, as all readie I have saied, a moste greate\npleasure; for this your interrupting me, taketh not awaie my fantasie,\nbut rather refresheth me. But mindyng to followe our matter I saie, how\nthat it is now tyme, that we lodge this our armie, for that you knowe\nevery thyng desireth reste and saftie, bicause to reste, and not to\nreste safely, is no perfecte reste: I doubte moche, whether it hath not\nbeen desired of you, that I should firste have lodged them, after made\ntheim to marche, and laste of all to faight, and we have doen the\ncontrary: whereunto necessitie hath brought us, for that intendyng to\nshewe, how an armie in going, is reduced from the forme of marching, to\nthesame maner of faightyng, it was necessarie to have firste shewed, how\nthei ordered it to faight. But tournyng to our matter, I saie, that\nminding to have the Campe sure, it is requisite that it be strong, and\nin good order: the industrie of the Capitaine, maketh it in order, the\nsituacion, or the arte, maketh it stronge. The Grekes sought strong\nsituacions, nor thei would never place theim selves, where had not been\neither cave, or bancke of a river, or multitude of trees, or other\nnaturall fortificacion, that might defende theim: but the Romaines not\nso moche incamped safe through the situacion, as through arte, nor thei\nwould never incampe in place, where thei should not have been able to\nhave raunged all their bandes of menne, accordyng to their discipline.\nHereby grewe, that the Romaines might kepe alwaies one forme of\nincamping, for that thei would, that the situacion should bee ruled by\nthem, not thei by the situacion: the which the Grekes could not observe,\nfor that beyng ruled by the situacion, and variyng the situacion and\nforme, it was conveniente, that also thei should varie the maner of\nincampyng, and the facion of their lodgynges. Therefore the Romaines,\nwhere the situacion lacked strength thei supplied thesame with arte, and\nwith industrie. And for that I in this my declaracion, have willed to\nimitate the Romaines, I will not departe from the maner of their\nincamping, yet not observyng altogether their order, but takyng thesame\nparte, whiche semeth unto me, to be mete for this present tyme. I have\ntold you many tymes, how the Romaines had in their consull armies, twoo\nLegions of Romaine men, whiche were aboute a leven thousande footemen,\nand sixe hundred horsemen, and moreover thei had an other leven\nthousande footemen, sente from their frendes in their aide: nor in their\narmie thei had never more souldiers that were straungers, then Romaines,\nexcepte horsemenne, whom thei cared not, though thei were more in nomber\nthen theirs: and in all their doynges, thei did place their Legions in\nthe middeste, and the aiders, on the sides: the whiche maner, thei\nobserved also in incampyng, as by your self you maie rede, in those\naucthoures, that write of their actes: and therefore I purpose not to\nshewe you distinctly how thei incamped, but to tell you onely with what\norder, I at this presente would incampe my armie, whereby you shall then\nknowe, what parte I have taken out of the Romaine maners. You knowe,\nthat in stede of twoo Romaine Legions, I have taken twoo maine battailes\nof footemen, of sixe thousande footemen, and three hundred horsemen,\nprofitable for a maine battaile, and into what battailes, into what\nweapons, into what names I have devided theim: you knowe howe in\norderyng tharmie to marche, and to faight, I have not made mencion of\nother men, but onely have shewed, how that doublyng the men, thei neded\nnot but to double the orders: but mindyng at this presente, to shew you\nthe maner of incampyng, me thinketh good not to stande onely with twoo\nmaine battailes, but to bryng together a juste armie, made like unto the\nRomaines, of twoo maine battailes, and of as many more aidyng men: the\nwhiche I make, to the intent that the forme of the incampyng, maie be\nthe more perfect, by lodgyng a perfecte armie: whiche thyng in the other\ndemonstracions, hath not semed unto me so necessarie. Purposing then, to\nincampe a juste armie, of xxiiii. thousande footemen, and of twoo\nthousande good horsemenne, beeyng devided into fower maine battailes,\ntwoo of our owne menne, and twoo of straungers, I would take this waie.\nThe situacion beyng founde, where I would incampe, I would erecte the\nhed standarde, and aboute it, I would marke out a quadrant, whiche\nshould have every side distante from it xxxvii. yardes and a half, of\nwhiche every one of them should lye, towardes one of the fower regions\nof heaven, as Easte, Weste, Southe, and Northe: betwene the whiche\nspace, I would that the capitaines lodgyng should be appoincted. And\nbicause I beleve that it is wisedom, to devide the armed from the\nunarmed, seyng that so, for the moste parte the Romaines did, I would\ntherefore seperate the menne, that were cumbered with any thing, from\nthe uncombered. I would lodge all, or the greatest parte of the armed,\non the side towardes the Easte, and the unarmed, and the cumbred, on the\nWeste side, makyng Easte the hedde, and Weste the backe of the Campe,\nand Southe, and Northe should be the flanckes: and for to distinguishe\nthe lodgynges of the armed, I would take this waie. I would drawe a line\nfrom the hedde standarde, and lead it towardes the Easte, the space of\nCCCCC.x. yardes and a half: I would after, make two other lines, that\nshould place in the middeste the same, and should bee as longe as that,\nbut distante eche of theim from it a leven yardes and a quarter: in the\nende whereof, I would have the Easte gate, and the space that is betwene\nthe twoo uttermoste lines, should make a waie, that should go from the\ngate, to the capitaines lodging, whiche shall come to be xxii. yardes\nand a halfe broad, and CCCClxxii. yardes and a halfe longe, for the\nxxxvii. yardes and a halfe, the lodgyng of the Capitaine will take up:\nand this shall bee called the Capitaine waie. Then there shall be made\nan other waie, from the Southe gate, to the Northe gate, and shall passe\nby the hedde of the capitaine waie, and leave the Capitaines lodgyng\ntowardes theaste, whiche waie shalbe ix.C.xxxvii. yardes and a halfe\nlong (for the length therof wilbe as moche as the breadth of all the\nlodgynges) and shall likewise be xxii. yardes and a half broad, and\nshalbe called the crosse waie. Then so sone as the Capitaines lodgyng,\nwere appoincted out, and these twoo waies, there shall bee begun to be\nappoincted out, the lodginges of our own two main battailes, one of the\nwhiche, I would lodge on the right hand of the capitaines waie, and the\nother, on the lefte: and therefore passing over the space, that the\nbreadth of the crosse waie taketh, I would place xxxii. lodgynges, on\nthe lefte side of the capitain waie, and xxxii. on the right side,\nleavyng betwene the xvi. and the xvii. lodgyng, a space of xxii. yardes\nand a halfe, the whiche should serve for a waie overthwart, whiche\nshould runne overthwarte, throughout all the lodgynges of the maine\nbattailes as in the distributyng of them shall bee seen.\n\n[Sidenote: The lodgings for the men of armes, and their Capitaine; Note,\nwhich is breadth and whiche length in the square campe; The lodgings for\nthe lighte horsemen, and their capitain; The lodgings for the footemen\nof twoo ordinary main battailes; The lodgings for the conestables; The\nnomber of footemen appoincted to every lodging; The lodynges for the\nchiefe Capitaines of the maine battayles and for the treasurers,\nmarshals and straungers; Lodginges for the horsemen, of the\nextraordinarie mayne battailes; The lodgynges for the extraordinarie\nPykes and Veliti; How the Artillerie must be placed in the Campe;\nLodgynges for the unarmed men, and the places that are apoineted for the\nimpedimentes of the campe.]\n\nOf these twoo orders of lodgynges in the beginnyng of the head, whiche\nshall come to joygne to the crosse waye, I would lodge the Capitaine of\nthe men of armes, in the xv. lodgynges, which on everie side foloweth\nnext, their men of armes, where eche main battaile, havyng a CL. men of\narmes, it will come to ten men of armes for a lodgyng. The spaces of the\nCapitaines lodgynges, should be in bredth xxx. and in length vii. yardes\nand a halfe. And note that when so ever I sai bredeth, it signifieth the\nspace of the middest from Southe to Northe, and saiyng length, that\nwhiche is from weste to Easte. Those of the men of armes, shoulde be xi.\nyardes and a quarter in length, and xxii. yardes and a halfe in bredeth.\nIn the other xv. lodgynges, that on everie syde should folowe, the\nwhiche should have their beginnyng on the other side of the overthwarte\nway, and whiche shall have the very same space, that those of the men of\narmes had, I woulde lodge the light horsemen: wherof beynge a hundred\nand fiftie, it will come to x. horsemen for a lodgyng, and in the xvi.\nthat remaineth, I woulde lodge their Capitaine, gevynge him the verie\nsame space, that is geven to the Capitain of the men of armes: and thus\nthe lodginges of the horsemen of two maine battailes, will come to place\nin the middest the Capitaine way, and geve rule to the lodginges of the\nfootemen, as I shall declare. You have noted how I have lodged the CCC.\nhorsemen of everie main battaile with their Capitaines, in xxxii.\nlodgynges placed on the Captaine waie, havynge begun from the crosse\nwaie, and how from the xvi. to the xvii. there remaineth a space of\nxxii. yardes and a halfe, to make awaie overthwarte. Mindyng therefore\nto lodge the xx. battailes, which the twoo ordinarie maine battailes\nhave, I woulde place the lodgyng of everie twoo battailes, behinde the\nlodgynges of the horsemen, everie one of whiche, should have in length\nxi. yardes and a quarter, and in bredeth xxii. yardes and a half as\nthose of the horsemens, and shoulde bee joigned on the hinder parte,\nthat thei shoulde touche the one the other. And in every first lodgyng\non everie side which cometh to lie on the crosse waie, I woulde lodge\nthe Counstable of a battaile, whiche should come to stand even with the\nlodgyng of the Capitayne of the men of armes, and this lodgyng shall\nhave onely of space for bredeth xv. yardes, and for length vii. yardes\nand a halfe. In the other xv. lodgynges, that on everie side followeth\nafter these, even unto the overthwarte way, I would lodge on everie part\na battaile of foote men, whiche beyng iiii. hundred and fiftie, there\nwill come to a lodgyng xxx. The other xv. lodgynges, I woulde place\ncontinually on every side on those of the light horse men, with the\nverie same spaces, where I woulde lodge on everie part, an other\nbattaile of fote men, and in the laste lodgyng, I would place on every\nparte the Conestable of the battaile, whiche will come to joigne with\nthe same of the Capitaine of the lighte horsemen, with the space of vii.\nyardes and a halfe for length, and xv. for bredeth: and so these two\nfirste orders of lodgynges, shal be halfe of horsemen, and halfe of\nfootemen. And for that I woulde (as in the place therof I have tolde\nyou) these horse menne shoulde be all profitable, and for this havynge\nno servauntes whiche in kepyng the horses, or in other necessarie\nthynges might helpe them, I woulde that these footemen, who lodge\nbehynde the horse, should bee bounde to helpe to provide, and to keepe\ntheim for their maisters: and for this to bee exempted from the other\ndoynges of the Campe. The whiche maner, was observed of the Romanies.\nThen leavyng after these lodgynges on everie parte, a space of xxii.\nyardes and a halfe, whiche shoulde make awaye, that shoulde be called\nthe one, the firste waye on the righte hande, and the other the firste\nwaie on the lefte hand, I woulde pitche on everie side an other order of\nxxxii. double lodgynges, whiche should tourne their hinder partes the\none againste the other with the verie same spaces, as those that I have\ntolde you of, and devided after the sixtenth in the verie same maner for\nto make the overthwarte waie, where I would lodge on every side iiii.\nbattailes of footemen, with their constables in bothe endes. Then\nleavyng on every side an other space of xxii. yardes and a halfe, that\nshoulde make a waie, whiche shoulde be called of the one side, the\nseconde waie on the right hande, and on the other syde, the seconde way\non the lefte hande, I would place an other order on everie side of\nxxxii. double lodgynges, with the verie same distance and devisions,\nwhere I would lodge on everie side, other iiii. battailes with their\nConstables: and thus the horesemenne and the bandes of the twoo\nordinarie maine battailes, should come to be lodged in three orders of\nlodgynges, on the one side of the capitaine waie, and in three other\norders of lodgynges on the other side of the Capitaine waie. The twoo\naidyng maine battels (for that I cause them to be made of the verie same\nnation) I woulde lodge them on everie parte of these twoo ordinarie\nmaine battailes, with the very same orders of double lodgynges, pitchyng\nfirst one order of lodgynges, where should lodge halfe the horsemen, and\nhalf the foote men, distance xxii. yardes and a halfe from the other,\nfor to make a way whiche should be called the one, the thirde waie on\nthe right hande, and the other the thirde waie on the lefte hande. And\nafter, I woulde make on everie side, twoo other orders of lodgynges, in\nthe verie same maner destinguesshed and ordeined, as those were of the\nordinarie maine battelles, which shall make twoo other wayes, and they\nall should be called of the numbre, and of the hande, where thei should\nbe placed: in suche wyse, that all this side of the armie, shoulde come\nto be lodged in xii. orders of double lodgynges, and in xiii. waies,\nreckenynge captaine waie, and crosse waie: I would there should remayne\na space from the lodgynges to the Trenche of lxxv. yardes rounde aboute:\nand if you recken al these spaces, you shall see that from the middest\nof the Capitaines lodgyng to the easte gate, there is Dx. yardes. Now\nthere remaineth twoo spaces, whereof one is from the Capitaines lodgyng\nto the Southe gate, the other is from thense to the Northe gate: whiche\ncome to be (either of them measurynge them from the poincte in the\nmiddest) CCCC.lxxvi. yardes. Then takyng out of everie one of these\nspaces xxxvii. yardes and a halfe, whiche the Capitaynes lodgynge\noccupieth, and xxxiiii. yardes everie waie for a market place, and xxii.\nyardes and a halfe for way that devides everie one of the saied spaces\nin the middest, and lxxv. yardes, that is lefte on everie part betweene\nthe lodgynges and the Trenche, there remaineth on every side a space for\nlodginges of CCC. yardes broade, and lxxv. yardes longe, measurynge the\nlength with the space that the Captaines lodgynge taketh up. Devidynge\nthen in the middest the saied lengthe, there woulde be made on every\nhande of the Capitaine xl. lodgynges xxxvii. yardes and a halfe longe,\nand xv. broade, whiche will come to be in all lxxx. lodgynges, wherin\nshall be lodged the heddes of the maine battailes, the Treasurers, the\nMarshalles of the fielde, and all those that shoulde have office in the\narmie, leavyng some voide for straungers that shoulde happen to come,\nand for those that shall serve for good will of the Capitaine. On the\nparte behinde the Capitaines lodgynge, I would have a way from Southe to\nNorthe xxiii. yardes large, and shoulde be called the bed way, whiche\nshall come to be placed a longe by the lxxx. lodgynges aforesayd: for\nthat this waie, and the crosseway, shall come to place in the middest\nbetweene them bothe the Capitaines lodgynge, and the lxxx. lodgynges\nthat be on the sides therof. From this bed waie, and from over agaynst\nthe captaines lodgyng, I would make an other waie, which shoulde goe\nfrom thens to the weste gate, lykewyse broade xxii. yardes and a halfe,\nand should aunswer in situation and in length to the Captaine way, and\nshould be called the market waie. These twoo waies beynge made, I woulde\nordeine the market place, where the market shall bee kepte, whiche I\nwoulde place on the head of the market way over against the capitaines\nlodgynge, and joigned to the head way, and I woulde have it to be\nquadrante, and woulde assigne lxxxx. yardes and three quarters to a\nsquare: and on the right hande and lefte hande, of the saied market\nplace, I would make two orders of lodginges, where everie order shal\nhave eight double lodginges, which shall take up in length, ix. yardes,\nand in bredeth xxii. yardes and a halfe, so that there shall come to be\non every hande of the market place, xvi. lodgynges that shall place the\nsame in the middest which shall be in al xxxii. wherin I woulde lodge\nthose horsemen, which shoulde remaine to the aidyng mayne battailes: and\nwhen these should not suffise, I woulde assigne theim some of those\nlodginges that placeth between them the Capitaines lodgynge, and in\nespecially those, that lie towardes the Trenche. There resteth now to\nlodge the Pikes, and extraordinarie Veliti, that everie main battaile\nhath, which you know accordynge to our order, how everie one hath\nbesides the x. battailes M. extraordinarie Pikes, and five hundreth\nVeliti: so that the twoo cheefe maine battailes, have two thousande\nextraordinarie Pikes, and a thousande extraordinarie Veliti, and the\nayders as many as those, so that yet there remaineth to be lodged, vi.\nM. menne, whome I woulde lodge all on the weste side, and a longe the\nTrenche. Then from the ende of the hed waye, towardes Northe, leavyng\nthe space of lxxv. yardes from them to the trenche, I woulde place an\norder of v. double lodgynges, whiche in all shoulde take up lvi. yardes\nin lengthe, and xxx. in bredeth: so that the bredeth devided, there will\ncome to everie lodgyng xi. yardes and a quarter for lengthe, and for\nbredeth twoo and twentie yardes and a half. And because there shall be\nx. lodgynges, I will lodge three hundred men, apoinctyng to every\nlodging xxx. men: leavyng then a space of three and twentie yardes and a\nquarter, I woulde place in like wise, and with like spaces an other\norder of five double lodgynges, and againe an other, till there were\nfive orders of five double lodgynges: which wil come to be fiftie\nlodgynges placed by right line on the Northe side, every one of them\ndistante from the Trenche lxxv. yardes, which will lodge fifteene\nhundred men. Tournyng after on the lefte hande towardes the weste gate,\nI woulde pitche in all the same tracte, whiche were from them to the\nsaied gate, five other orders of double lodgynges, with the verie same\nspaces, and with the verie same maner: true it is, that from the one\norder to the other, there shall not be more then a xi. yardes and a\nquarter of space: wherin shall be lodged also fifteene hundred men: and\nthus from the Northe gate to the weste, as the Trenche turneth, in a\nhundred lodginges devided in x. rewes of five double lodgynges in a\nrowe, there will be lodged all the Pikes and extraordinarie Veliti of\nthe cheefe maine battayles. And so from the west gate to the Southe, as\nthe Trenche tourneth even in the verie same maner, in other ten rewes of\nten lodgynges in a rewe, there shall be lodged the pikes, and\nextraordinarie Veliti of the aidyng mayne battailes. Their headdes or\ntheir counstables may take those lodgynges, that shal seeme unto them\nmoste commodious, on the parte towardes the trenche. The Artillerie, I\nwoulde dispose throughoute all the Campe, a longe the banke of the\nTrenche: and in all the other space that shoulde remaine towardes weste,\nI woulde lodge all the unarmed, and place all the impedimentes of the\nCampe. And it is to be understoode, that under this name of impedimentes\n(as you know) the antiquitee mente all the same trayne, and all those\nthynges, which are necessarie for an armie, besides the souldiours: as\nare Carpenters, Smithes, Masons, Ingeners, Bombardiers, althoughe that\nthose might be counted in the numbre of the armed, herdemen with their\nherdes of motons and beeves whiche for victuallyng of the armie, are\nrequiset: and moreover maisters of all sciences, together with publicke\ncarriages of the publicke munition, whiche pertaine as well to\nvictuallyng, as to armynge. Nor I would not distinguishe these lodginges\nperticularly, only I would marke out the waies which should not be\noccupied of them: then the other spaces, that betweene the waies shall\nremaine, whiche shall be fower, I woulde appoincte theim generally for\nall the saied impedimentes, that is one for the herdemen, the other for\nartificers and craftes men, the thirde for publicke carriages of\nvictuals, the fowerth for the municion of armour and weapons. The waies\nwhiche I woulde shoulde be lefte without ocupiyng them, shal be the\nmarket waie, the head waye, and more over a waie that shoulde be called\nthe midde waye, whiche should goe from Northe to Southe, and should\npasse thoroughe the middest of the market waie, whiche from the weste\nparte, shoulde serve for the same purpose that the overthwarte way doeth\non the east parte. And besides this, a waye whiche shall goe aboute on\nthe hinder parte, alonge the lodgynges of the Pikes and extraordinarie\nVeliti, and all these wayes shall be twoo and tweentie vardes and a\nhalfe broade. And the Artilerie, I woulde place a longe the Trenche of\nthe Campe, rounde aboute the same.\n\nBAPTISTE. I confesse that I understand not, nor I beleeve that also to\nsaye so, is any shame unto me, this beyng not my exercise:\nnotwithstandyng, this order pleaseth me muche: onely I woulde that you\nshoulde declare me these doubtes: The one, whie you make the waie, and\nthe spaces aboute so large. The other, that troubleth me more, is these\nspaces, whiche you apoincte oute for the lodgynges, howe they ought to\nbe used.\n\n[Sidenote: The Campe ought to be all waies of one facion.]\n\nFABRICIO. You must note, that I make all the waies, xxii. yardes and a\nhalfe broade, to the intente that thorowe them, maie go a battaile of\nmen in araie, where if you remember wel, I tolde you how every bande of\nmenne, taketh in breadth betwene xviii. and xxii. yardes of space to\nmarche or stande in. Nowe where the space that is betwene the trenche,\nand the lodgynges, is lxxv. yardes broade, thesame is moste necessarie,\nto the intent thei maie there order the battailes, and the artillerie,\nbothe to conducte by thesame the praies, and to have space to retire\ntheim selves with newe trenches, and newe fortificacion if neede were:\nThe lodginges also, stande better so farre from the diches, beyng the\nmore out of daunger of fires, and other thynges, whiche the enemie,\nmight throwe to hurte them. Concernyng the seconde demaunde, my intent\nis not that every space, of me marked out, bee covered with a pavilion\nonely, but to be used, as tourneth commodious to soch as lodge there,\neither with more or with lesse Tentes, so that thei go not out of the\nboundes of thesame. And for to marke out these lodginges, there ought to\nbee moste cunnyng menne, and moste excellente Architectours, whom, so\nsone as the Capitaine hath chosen the place, maie knowe how to give it\nthe facion, and to distribute it, distinguishyng the waies, devidyng the\nlodgynges with Coardes and staves, in soche practised wise, that\nstraight waie, thei maie bee ordained, and devided: and to minde that\nthere growe no confusion, it is conveniente to tourne the Campe, alwaies\none waie, to the intente that every manne maie knowe in what waie, in\nwhat space he hath to finde his lodgyng: and this ought to be observed\nin every tyme, in every place, and after soche maner, that it seme a\nmovyng Citee, the whiche where so ever it goweth, carrieth with it the\nverie same waies, the verie same habitacions, and the verie same\naspectes, that it had at the firste: The whiche thing thei cannot\nobserve, whom sekyng strong situacions, must chaunge forme, accordyng to\nthe variacion of the grounde: but the Romaines in the plaine, made\nstronge the place where thei incamped with trenches, and with Rampires,\nbicause thei made a space about the campe, and before thesame a ditche,\nordinary broad fower yardes and a halfe, and depe aboute twoo yardes and\na quarter, the which spaces, thei increased, according as thei intended\nto tarie in a place, and accordyng as thei feared the enemie. I for my\nparte at this presente, would not make the listes, if I intende not to\nWinter in a place: yet I would make the Trenche and the bancke no lesse,\nthen the foresaied, but greater, accordyng to necessitie. Also,\nconsideryng the artellerie, I would intrench upon every corner of the\nCampe, a halfe circle of ground, from whens the artillerie might\nflancke, whom so ever should seke to come over the Trenche. In this\npractise in knowyng how to ordain a campe, the souldiours ought also to\nbe exercised, and to make with them the officers expert, that are\nappoincted to marke it out, and the Souldiours readie to knowe their\nplaces: nor nothyng therein is difficulte, as in the place thereof shall\nbee declared: wherefore, I will goe forewarde at this tyme to the warde\nof the campe, bicause without distribucion of the watche, all the other\npain that hath been taken, should be vain.\n\nBAPTISTE. Before you passe to the watche, I desire that you would\ndeclare unto me, when one would pitche his campe nere the enemie, what\nwaie is used: for that I knowe not, how a man maie have tyme, to be able\nto ordaine it without perill.\n\nFABRICIO. You shall understande this, that no Capitaine will lye nere\nthe enemie, except he, that is desposed to faight the fielde, when so\never his adversarie will: and when a capitaine is so disposed, there is\nno perill, but ordinarie: for that the twoo partes of the armie, stande\nalwaies in a redinesse, to faight the battaile, and thother maketh the\nlodginges. The Romaines in this case, gave this order of fortifiyng the\nCampe, unto the Triarii: and the Prencipi, and the Astati, stoode in\narmes. This thei did, for as moche as the Triarii, beyng the last to\nfaight, might have time inough, if the enemie came, to leave the woorke,\nand to take their weapons, and to get them into their places. Therfore,\naccordyng unto the Romaines maner, you ought to cause the Campe to be\nmade of those battailes, whiche you will set in the hinder parte of the\narmie, in the place of the Triarii. But let us tourne to reason of the\nwatche.\n\n[Sidenote: Theantiquitie used no Scoutes; The watche and warde of the\nCampe.]\n\nI thinke I have not founde, emongest the antiquitie, that for to warde\nthe campe in the night, thei have kepte watche without the Trenche,\ndistaunte as thei use now a daies, whom thei call Scoutes: the whiche I\nbeleve thei did, thinkyng that the armie might easely bee deceived,\nthrough the difficultie, that is in seeyng them againe, for that thei\nmight bee either corrupted, or oppressed of the enemie: So that to\ntruste either in parte, or altogether on them, thei judged it perillous.\nAnd therefore, all the strength of the watche, was with in the trenche,\nwhiche thei did withall diligence kepe, and with moste greate order,\npunished with death, whom so ever observed not thesame order: the whiche\nhow it was of them ordained, I will tell you no other wise, leaste I\nshould bee tedious unto you, beyng able by your self to see it, if as\nyet you have not seen it: I shall onely briefly tell that, whiche shall\nmake for my purpose, I wold cause to stand ordinarely every night, the\nthirde parte of the armie armed, and of thesame, the fowerth parte\nalwaies on foote, whom I would make to bee destributed, throughout all\nthe banckes, and throughout all the places of the armie, with double\nwarde, placed in every quadrante of thesame: Of whiche, parte should\nstande still, parte continually should go from the one corner of the\nCampe, to the other: and this order, I would observe also in the daie,\nwhen I should have the enemie nere.\n\n[Sidenote: Dilligence ought to be used, to knowe who lieth oute of the\nCampe, and who they be that cometh of newe; Claudius Nero; The justice\nthat ought to be in a campe. The fauts that the antiquitie punisshed\nwith Death; Where greate punishementes be, there oughte likewise to bee\ngreat rewardes; It was no marvel that the Romaines became mightie\nPrinces; A meane to punishe and execute Justice, without raising\ntumultes; Manlius Capitolinus; Souldiours sworen to kepe the discipline\nof warre.]\n\nConcernyng the givyng of the watche worde, and renuyng thesame every\nevening, and to doe the other thynges, whiche in like watches is used,\nbicause thei are thynges well inough knowen, I will speake no further of\nthem: onely I shall remember one thyng, for that it is of greate\nimportaunce, and whiche causeth great saulfgarde observyng it, and not\nobservyng it, moche harme: The whiche is, that there be observed greate\ndiligence, to knowe at night, who lodgeth not in the Campe, and who\ncommeth a newe: and this is an easie thing to see who lodgeth, with\nthesame order that wee have appoincted: for as moche as every lodgyng\nhavyng the determined nomber of menne, it is an easie matter to see, if\nthei lacke, or if there be more menne: and when thei come to be absente\nwithout lisence, to punishe them as Fugetives, and if there bee more, to\nunderstande what thei be, what they make there, and of their other\ncondicions. This diligence maketh that the enemie cannot but with\ndifficultie, practise with thy capitaines, and have knowlege of thy\ncounsailes: which thing if of the Romaines, had not been diligently\nobserved, Claudius Nero could not, havyng Aniball nere hym, depart from\nhis Campe, whiche he had in Lucania, and to go and to retourne from\nMarca, without Aniball should have firste heard thereof some thyng. But\nit suffiseth not to make these orders good, excepte thei bee caused to\nbee observed, with a greate severtie: for that there is nothyng that\nwould have more observacion, then is requisite in an armie: therefore\nthe lawes for the maintenaunce of thesame, ought to be sharpe and harde,\nand the executour therof moste harde. The Romaines punished with death\nhim that lacked in the watch, he that forsoke the place that was given\nhym to faight in, he that caried any thynge, hidde out of the Campe, if\nany manne should saie, that he had doen some worthy thing in the faight,\nand had not doen it, if any had fought without the commaundemente of the\nCapitaine, if any had for feare, caste awaie his weapons: and when it\nhappened, that a Cohorte, or a whole Legion, had committed like fault,\nbicause thei would not put to death all, thei yet tooke al their names,\nand did put them in a bagge, and then by lotte, thei drue oute the\ntenthe parte, and so those were put to death: the whiche punishemente,\nwas in soche wise made, that though every man did not feele it every man\nnotwithstandyng feared it: and bicause where be greate punishementes,\nthere ought to be also rewardes, mindyng to have menne at one instant,\nto feare and to hope, thei had appoincted rewardes to every worthie\nacte: as he that faighting, saved the life of one of his Citezeins, to\nhym that firste leapte upon the walle of the enemies Toune, to hym that\nentered firste into the Campe of the enemies, to hym that had in\nfaightyng hurte, or slaine the enemie, he that had stroken him from his\nhorse: and so every vertuous act, was of the Consulles knowen and\nrewarded, and openly of every manne praised: and soche as obtained\ngiftes, for any of these thynges, besides the glorie and fame, whiche\nthei got emongest the souldiours, after when thei returned into their\ncountrie, with solemne pompe, and with greate demonstracion emong their\nfrendes and kinsfolkes, thei shewed them. Therefore it was no marveile,\nthough thesame people gotte so moche dominion, having so moche\nobservacion in punishemente, and rewarde towardes theim, whom either for\ntheir well doyng, or for their ill doyng, should deserve either praise\nor blame: Of whiche thynges it were convenient, to observe the greater\nparte. Nor I thinke not good to kepe secrete, one maner of punishmente\nof theim observed, whiche was, that so sone as the offendour, was before\nthe Tribune, or Consulle convicted, he was of the same lightely stroken\nwith a rodde: after the whiche strikyng, it was lawfull for the\noffendour to flie, and to all the Souldiours to kill hym: so that\nstraight waie, every man threwe at hym either stones, or dartes, or with\nother weapons, stroke hym in soche wise, that he went but little waie a\nlive, and moste fewe escaped, and to those that so escaped, it was not\nlawfull for them to retourne home, but with so many incommodities, and\nsoche greate shame and ignomie, that it should have ben moche better for\nhim to have died. This maner is seen to be almoste observed of the\nSuizzers, who make the condempned to be put to death openly, of thother\nsouldiours, the whiche is well considered, and excellently dooen: for\nthat intendyng, that one be not a defendour of an evill doer, the\ngreateste reamedie that is founde, is to make hym punisher of thesame:\nbicause otherwise, with other respecte he favoureth hym: where when he\nhymself is made execucioner, with other desire, he desireth his\npunishemente, then when the execucion commeth to an other. Therefore\nmindyng, not to have one favored in his faulte of the people, a greate\nremedie it is, to make that the people, maie have hym to judge. For the\ngreater proofe of this, thinsample of Manlius Capitolinus might be\nbrought, who being accused of the Scenate, was defended of the people,\nso longe as thei were not Judge, but becommyng arbitratours in his\ncause, thei condempned hym to death. This is then a waie to punishe,\nwithout raisyng tumultes, and to make justise to be kepte: and for as\nmoche as to bridell armed menne, neither the feare of the Lawes, nor of\nmenne suffise not, the antiquitie joined thereunto the aucthoritie of\nGod: and therefore with moste greate Ceremonies, thei made their\nsouldiours to sweare, to kepe the discipline of warre, so that doyng\ncontrariewise, thei should not onely have to feare the Lawes, and menne,\nbut God: and thei used all diligence, to fill them with Religion.\n\n[Sidenote: Women and idell games, were not suffered by the antiquitie,\nto bee in their armies.]\n\nBAPTISTE. Did the Romaines permitte, that women might bee in their\narmies, or that there might be used these idell plaies, whiche thei use\nnow a daies.\n\nFABRICIO. Thei prohibited the one and thother, and this prohibicion was\nnot moche difficulte: For that there were so many exercises, in the\nwhiche thei kept every daie the souldiours, some whiles particularely,\nsomewhiles generally occupied that thei had no time to thinke, either on\nVenus, or on plaies, nor on any other thyng, whiche sedicious and\nunproffitable souldiours doe.\n\nBAPTISTE. I am herein satisfied, but tell me, when the armie had to\nremove, what order kepte thei?\n\n[Sidenote: Ordre in the removing the armie by the soundes of a Trumpet.]\n\nFABRICIO. The chief Trumpet sounded three tymes, at the firste sound,\nthei toke up the Tentes, and made the packes, at the seconde, thei laded\nthe carriage, at the thirde, thei removed in thesame maner aforsaied,\nwith the impedimentes after every parte of armed men, placyng the\nLegions in the middeste: and therefore you ought to cause after thesame\nsorte, an extraordinarie maine battaile to remove: and after that, the\nparticulare impedimentes therof, and with those, the fowerth part of the\npublike impedimentes, which should bee all those, that were lodged in\none of those partes, whiche a little afore we declared: and therfore it\nis conveniente, to have every one of them, appointed to a maine\nbattaile, to the entente that the armie removyng, every one might knowe\nhis place in marchyng: and thus every maine battaile ought to goe awaie,\nwith their owne impedimentes, and with the fowerth parte of the publike\nimpedimentes, followyng after in soche maner, as wee shewed that the\nRomaines marched.\n\nBAPTISTE. In pitchyng the Campe, had thei other respectes, then those\nyou have tolde?\n\n[Sidenote: Respectes to be had for incampyng; How to choose a place to\nincampe; How to avoide diseases from the armie; The wonderfull\ncommoditie of exercise; The provision of victualles that ought alwaies\nto bee in a readinesse in an armie.]\n\nFABRICIO. I tell you again, that the Romaines when thei encamped, would\nbe able to kepe the accustomed fashion of their maner, the whiche to\nobserve, thei had no other respecte: but concernyng for other\nconsideracions, thei had twoo principall, the one, to incampe theim\nselves in a wholesome place, the other, to place themselves, where\nthenemie could not besiege theim, nor take from them the waie to the\nwater, or victualles. Then for to avoide infirmitie, thei did flie from\nplaces Fennie, or subjecte to hurtfull windes: whiche thei knewe not so\nwell, by the qualitie of the situacion, as by the face of the\ninhabitours: for when thei sawe theim evill coloured, or swollen, or\nfull of other infeccion, thei would not lodge there: concernyng thother\nrespecte to provide not to be besieged, it is requisite to consider the\nnature of the place, where the friendes lye, and thenemies, and of this\nto make a conjecture, if thou maiest be besieged or no: and therefore it\nis meete, that the Capitaine be moste experte, in the knowlege of\nsituacions of countries, and have aboute him divers men, that have the\nverie same expertenes. Thei avoide also diseases, and famishment, with\ncausyng the armie to kepe no misrule, for that to purpose to maintain it\nin health, it is nedefull to provide, that the souldiours maie slepe\nunder tentes, that thei maie lodge where bee Trees, that make shadowe,\nwhere woodde is for to dresse their meate, that thei go not in the\nheate, and therefore thei muste bee drawen out of the campe, before daie\nin Summer, and in Winter, to take hede that thei marche not in the\nSnowe, and in the Froste, without havyng comoditie to make fire, and not\nto lack necessarie aparel, nor to drink naughtie water: those that fall\nsicke by chaunce, make them to bee cured of Phisicions: bicause a\ncapitain hath no reamedie, when he hath to faight with sicknesse, and\nwith an enemie: but nothing is so profitable, to maintaine the armie in\nhealth, as is the exercise: and therfore the antiquitie every daie, made\nthem to exercise: wherby is seen how muche exercise availeth: for that\nin the Campe, it kepeth thee in health, and in the faight victorious.\nConcernyng famishemente, it is necessarie to see, that the enemie hinder\nthee not of thy victualles, but to provide where thou maieste have it,\nand to see that thesame whiche thou haste, bee not loste: and therefore\nit is requisite, that thou have alwaies in provision with the armie,\nsufficiente victuall for a monethe, and then removyng into some strong\nplace, thou muste take order with thy nexte frendes, that daily thei\nmaie provide for thee, and above al thinges bestowe the victual with\ndiligence, givyng every daie to every manne, a reasonable measure, and\nobserve after soche sorte this poincte, that it disorder thee not:\nbicause all other thyng in the warre, maie with tyme be overcome, this\nonely with tyme overcometh thee: nor there shall never any enemie of\nthyne, who maie overcome thee with famishemente, that will seeke to\novercome thee with iron. For that though the victory be not so\nhonourable, yet it is more sure and more certaine: Then, thesame armie\ncannot avoide famishemente, that is not an observer of justice, whiche\nlicenciously consumeth what it liste: bicause the one disorder, maketh\nthat the victualls commeth not unto you, the other, that soche victuall\nas commeth, is unprofitably consumed: therefore thantiquitie ordained,\nthat thei should spende thesame, whiche thei gave, and in thesame tyme\nwhen thei appoincted: for that no souldiour did eate, but when the\nCapitaine did eate: The whiche how moche it is observed of the armies\nnowe adaies, every manne knoweth, and worthely thei can not bee called\nmenne of good order and sober, as the antiquitie, but lasivious and\ndrunkardes.\n\nBAPTISTE. You saied in the beginnyng of orderynge the Campe, that you\nwoulde not stande onely uppon twoo maine battailes, but woulde take\nfower, for to shewe how a juste armie incamped: therfore I would you\nshoulde tell me twoo thynges, the one, when I shoulde have more or lesse\nmen, howe I ought to incampe them, the other, what numbre of souldiours\nshould suffice you to faight against what so ever enemie that were.\n\n[Sidenote: Howe to lodge in the Campe more or lesse menne, then the\nordinarie; The nombre of men that an army ought to be made of, to bee\nable to faighte with the puisantest enemie that is; Howe to cause men to\ndo soche a thing as shold bee profitable for thee, and hurtfull to them\nselves; Howe to overcome menne at unwares; How to tourne to commoditie\nthe doynges of soche, as use to advertise thy enemie of thy\nproceadynges; How to order the campe, that the enemie shal not perceive\nwhether the same bee deminished, or increased; A saiyng of Metellus;\nMarcus Crassus; How to understand the secretes of thy enemie; A policie\nof Marius, to understande howe he might truste the Frenchmen; What some\nCapitaines have doen when their countrie have been invaded of enemies;\nTo make the enemie necligente in his doynges; Silla Asdruball; The\npolicie of Aniball, where by he escaped out of the danger of Fabius\nMaximus; A Capitayne muste devise how to devide the force of his\nenemies; How to cause the enemie to have in suspect his most trusty men;\nAniball Coriolanus; Metellus against Jugurte; A practis of the Romayne\noratours, to bryng Aniball out of Credit with Antiochus; Howe to cause\nthe enemie to devide his power; Howe Titus Didius staied his enemies\nthat wer going to incounter a legion of men that were commyng in his\nayde; Howe some have caused the enemie to devide his force; A policie to\nwinne the enemies countrie before he be aware; Howe to reforme sedicion\nand discorde; The benefitte that the reputacion of the Capitaine\ncauseth, which is only gotten by vertue; The chiefe thyng that a\ncapitayne ought to doe; When paie wanteth, punishment is not to be\nexecuted; The inconvenience of not punisshynge; Cesar chaunsynge to\nfall, made the same to be supposed to signifi good lucke; Religion\ntaketh away fantasticall opinions; In what cases a Capitaine ought not\nto faight with his enemie if he may otherwyse choose; A policie of\nFulvius wherby he got and spoyled his enemies Campe; A policie to\ndisorder the enemie; A policie to overcome the enemie; A policie; How to\nbeguile the enemie; Howe Mennonus trained his enemies oute of stronge\nplaces to bee the better able to overcom them.]\n\nFABRICIO. To the first question I answer you, that if the armie be more\nor lesse, then fower or sixe thousande souldiours, the orders of\nlodgynges, may bee taken awaie or joined, so many as suffiseth: and with\nthis way a man may goe in more, and in lesse, into infinite:\nNotwithstandynge the Romaines, when thei joigned together twoo consull\narmies, thei made twoo campes, and thei tourned the partes of the\nunarmed, thone against thother. Concernyng the second question, I say\nunto you, that the Romaines ordinary armie, was about xxiiii. M.\nsouldiours: but when thei were driven to faight against the greatest\npower that might be, the moste that thei put together, wer L. M. With\nthis number, thei did set against two hundred thousand Frenchemen, whome\nassaulted them after the first warre, that thei had with the\nCarthageners. With this verie same numbre, thei fought againste\nAnniball. And you muste note, that the Romaines, and the Grekes, have\nmade warre with fewe, fortefiyng themselves thorough order, and thorough\narte: the west, and the easte, have made it with multitude: But the one\nof these nacions, doeth serve with naturall furie: as doe the men of the\nwest partes, the other through the great obedience whiche those men have\nto their kyng. But in Grece, and in Italy, beyng no naturall furie, nor\nthe naturall reverence towardes their king, it hath been necessary for\nthem to learne the discipline of warre, the whiche is of so muche force,\nthat it hath made that a fewe, hath been able to overcome the furie, and\nthe naturall obstinatenesse of manie. Therefore I saie, that mindyng to\nimitate the Romaines, and the Grekes, the number of L. M. souldiers\nought not to bee passed, but rather to take lesse: because manie make\nconfucion, nor suffer not the discipline to be observed, and the orders\nlearned, and Pirrus used to saie, that with xv. thousande men he woulde\nassaile the worlde: but let us pas to an other parte. We have made this\nour armie to winne a field and shewed the travailes, that in the same\nfight may happen: we have made it to marche, and declared of what\nimpedimentes in marchyng it may be disturbed: and finally we have lodged\nit: where not only it ought to take a littell reste of the labours\npassed, but also to thinke howe the warre ought to be ended: for that in\nthe lodgynges, is handeled many thynges, inespecially thy enemies as yet\nremainyng in the fielde, and in suspected townes, of whome it is good to\nbe assured, and those that be enemies to overcome them: therfore it is\nnecessarie to come to this demonstracion, and to passe this difficultie\nwith the same glorie, as hitherto we have warred. Therfore comynge to\nparticular matters, I saie that if it shoulde happen, that thou wouldest\nhave manie men, or many people to dooe a thyng, whiche were to thee\nprofittable, and to theim greate hurte, as should be to breake downe the\nwall of their citie, or to sende into exile many of them, it is\nnecessarie for thee, either to beguile them in such wise that everie one\nbeleeve not that it toucheth him: so that succouryng not the one the\nother, thei may finde them selves al to be oppressed without remedie, or\nels unto all to commaunde the same, whiche they ought to dooe in one\nselfe daie, to the intente that every man belevyng to be alone, to whome\nthe commaundement is made, maie thinke to obey and not to remedie it:\nand so withoute tumulte thy commaundement to be of everie man executed.\nIf thou shouldest suspecte the fidelitie of anie people, and woulde\nassure thee, and overcome them at unawares, for to colour thy intente\nmore easelie, thou canst not doe better, then to counsel with them of\nsome purpose of thine, desiryng their aide, and to seeme to intende to\nmake an other enterprise, and to have thy minde farre from thinkyng on\nthem: the whiche will make, that thei shall not think on their owne\ndefence, beleevyng not that thou purposest to hurte them, and thei shal\ngeve thee commoditie, to be able easely to satisfie thy desire. When\nthou shouldest perceive, that there were in thine armie some, that used\nto advertise thy enemie of thy devises, thou canst not doe better,\nmyndynge to take commoditie by their traiterous mindes, then to commen\nwith them of those thynges, that thou wilte not doe, and those that thou\nwilt doe, to kepe secret, and to say to doubte of thynges, that thou\ndoubtest not, and those of whiche thou doubtest, to hide: the which\nshall make thenemie to take some enterprise in hand, beleving to know\nthy devises, where by easly thou maiest beguile and opresse hym. If thou\nshouldest intende (as Claudius Nero did) to deminishe thy armie,\nsendynge helpe to some freende, and that the enemie shoulde not bee\naware therof, it is necessarie not to deminishe the lodgynges, but to\nmaintayne the signes, and the orders whole, makyng the verie same fires,\nand the verye same wardes throughout all the campe, as wer wont to be\nafore. Lykewise if with thy armie there should joigne new men, and\nwouldest that the enemie shoulde not know that thou werte ingrosed, it\nis necessarie not to increase the lodgynges: Because keepyng secrete\ndoynges and devises, hath alwaies been moste profitable. Wherfore\nMetellus beyng with an armie in Hispayne, to one, who asked him what he\nwould doe the nexte daie, answered, that if his sherte knew therof, he\nwould bourne it. Marcus Craussus, unto one, whome asked him, when the\narmie shoulde remove, saied beleevest thou to be alone not to here the\ntrumpet? If thou shouldest desire to understande the secretes of thy\nenemie, and to know his orders, some have used to sende embassadours,\nand with theim in servauntes aparel, moste expertest men in warre: whom\nhavynge taken occasion to se the enemies armie, and to consider his\nstrengthe and weakenesse, it hath geven them oportunitie to overcome\nhim. Some have sente into exile one of their familiars, and by meanes of\nthe same, hath knowen the devises of his adversarie. Also like secrettes\nare understoode of the enemies when for this effecte there were taken\nany prisoners. Marius whiche in the warre that he made with the Cimbrie,\nfor to know the faieth of those Frenchmen, who then inhabited Lombardie,\nand were in leage with the Romaine people, sent them letters open, and\nsealed: and in the open he wrote, that they shoulde not open the sealed,\nbut at a certaine time, and before the same time demaundyng them againe,\nand finding them opened, knew thereby that their faithe was not to be\ntrusted. Some Capitaines, being invaded, have not desired to goe to\nmeete the enemie, but have gone to assaulte his countrey, and\nconstrained him to retorne to defende his owne home: The whiche manie\ntimes hath come wel to passe, for that those soldiours beginnyng to fil\nthem selves with booties, and confidence to overcome, shall sone make\nthe enemies souldiours to wexe afraide, when they supposynge theim\nselves conquerours, shal understand to become losers: So that to him\nthat hath made this diversion, manie times it hath proved well. But\nonely it may be doen by him, whiche hath his countrey stronger then that\nof the enemies, because when it were otherwise, he should goe to leese.\nIt hath been often a profitable thyng to a capitaine, that hath been\nbesieged in his lodgynges by the enemie, to move an intreatie of\nagreemente, and to make truse with him for certaine daies: the which is\nwonte to make the enemies more necligente in all doynges: so that\navaylynge thee of their necligence, thou maiest easely have occacion to\nget thee oute of handes. By this way Silla delivered him selfe twise\nfrom the enemies: and with this verie same deceipte, Asdruball in\nHispayne got oute of the force of Claudious Nero, whome had besieged\nhim. It helpeth also to deliver a man out of the daunger of the enemie,\nto do some thyng beside the forsaied, that may keepe him at a baye: this\nis dooen in two maners, either to assaulte him with parte of thy power,\nso that he beyng attentive to the same faight, may geve commoditie to\nthe reste of thy men to bee able to save theim selves, or to cause to\nrise some newe accidente, which for the strayngenesse of the thynge,\nmaie make him to marvell, and for this occasion to stande doubtefull,\nand still: as you knowe howe Anniball dyd, who beynge inclosed of Fabius\nMaximus, tied in the nighte small Bavens kindeled beetweene the hornes\nof manie Oxen, so that Fabius astonied at the strangenesse of the same\nsight, thought not to lette him at all the passage. A Capitayne oughte\namonge all other of his affaires, with al subtiltie to devise to devide\nthe force of the enemie, either with makyng him to suspecte his owne\nmenne, in whome he trusteth, or to give him occasion, that he maye\nseperate his menne, and therby to be come more weake. The fyrste way is\ndooen with keepyng saulfe the thynges of some of those whiche he hath\naboute him, as to save in the warre their menne and their possessions,\nrenderynge theim their children, or other their necessaries withoute\nraunsome. You know that Anniball havynge burned all the fieldes aboute\nRome, he made onely to bee reserved saulfe those of Fabius Maximus. You\nknow how Coriolanus comyng with an armie to Rome, preserved the\npossessions of the nobilitie, and those of the comminaltie he bourned,\nand sacked. Metellus havinge an armie againste Jugurte, all the\noratours, whiche of Jugurte were sente him, were required of him, that\nthey woulde geve him Jugurte prisoner, and after to the verie same men\nwrityng letters of the verie same matter, wrought in suche wise, that in\nshorte tyme Jugurte havyng in suspecte all his counsellours, in diverse\nmaners put them to death. Anniball beynge fled to Antiochus, the Romaine\noratours practised with him so familiarly, that Antiochus beyng in\nsuspecte of him, trusted not anie more after to his counselles.\nConcernyng to devide the enemies men, there is no more certainer waie,\nthen to cause their countrie to be assaulted to the intente that being\nconstrained to goe to defende the same, they maie forsake the warre.\nThis way Fabius used havynge agaynst his armie the power of the\nFrenchemen, of the Tuscans, Umbries and Sannites. Titus Didius havyng a\nfew men in respecte to those of the enemies, and lookynge for a legion\nfrom Rome, and the enemies purposinge to goe to incounter it, to the\nintente that they should not goe caused to bee noised through all his\narmie, that he intended the nexte daie to faighte the field with the\nenemies: after he used means, that certaine of the prisoners, that he\nhad taken afore, had occasion to runne awaie. Who declaryng the order\nthat the Consull had taken to faighte the nexte daie, by reason wherof\nthe enemies beyng afraide to deminishe their owne strength, went not to\nincounter the same legion, and by this way thei wer conducted safe. The\nwhich means serveth not to devide the force of the enemies, but to\naugmente a mans owne. Some have used to devide the enemies force, by\nlettyng him to enter into their countrie, and in profe have let him take\nmanie townes, to the intente that puttynge in the same garrisons, he\nmight thereby deminishe his power, and by this waie havynge made him\nweake, have assaulted and overcomen him. Some other mindyng to goe into\none province, have made as though they woulde have invaded an other, and\nused so much diligence, that sodenly entryng into the same, where it was\nnot doubted that they woulde enter, they have first wonne it, before the\nennemie coulde have time to succour it: for that thy enemie beynge not\nsure, whether thou purposest to tourne backe, to the place fyrste of\nthee threatned, is constrained not to forsake the one place, to succour\nthe other, and so many times he defendeth neither the one nor the other.\nIt importeth besides the sayde thynges to a Capitaine, if there growe\nsedicion or discorde amonge the souldiours, to knowe with arte howe to\nextynguishe it: The beste waie is to chastise the headdes of the\nfaultes, but it muste be doen in such wise, that thou maiest first have\noppressed them, before they be able to be aware: The way is if they be\ndistante from thee, not onely to call the offenders, but together with\ntheim all the other, to the entente that not beleevynge, that it is for\nany cause to punishe them, they become not contumelius, but geve\ncommoditie to the execution of the punishemente: when thei be present,\nthou oughtest to make thy selfe stronge with those that be not in\nfaulte, and by meane of their helpe to punishe the other. When there\nhapneth discorde amonge them, the beste waye is, to bryng them to the\nperill, the feare whereof is wonte alwaies to make them agree. But that,\nwhich above all other thynge kepeth the armie in unitee, is the\nreputacion of the Capitaine, the whiche onely groweth of his vertue:\nbecause neither bloud, nor authoritie gave it ever without vertue. And\nthe chiefe thyng, whiche of a Capitain is looked for to be doen, is, to\nkeepe his souldiours punisshed, and paied: for that when so ever the\npaie lacketh, it is conveniente that the punisshement lacke: because\nthou canst not correcte a souldiour, that robbeth, if thou doest not\npaie him, nor the same mindynge to live, cannot abstaine from robbynge:\nbut if thou paiest him and punisshest him not, he beecometh in everie\ncondicion insolente: For that thou becomest of small estimacion, where\nthou chaunsest not to bee able to maintaine the dignitie of thy degree,\nand not mainetainyng it, there foloweth of necessitee tumulte, and\ndiscorde, whiche is the ruine of an armie. Olde Capitaines had a\ntroubell, of the which the presente be almoste free, whiche was to\ninterprete to their purpose the sinister auguries: because if there fell\na thunderbolte in an armie, if the sunne were darkened or the Moone, if\nthere came an erthequake, if the Capitaine either in gettyng up, or in\nlightynge of his horse fell, it was of the souldiours interpreted\nsinisterously: And it ingendred in them so moche feare, that comynge to\nfaight the fielde, easely they should have lost it: and therefore the\naunciente Capitaines so sone as a lyke accidente grewe, either they\nshewed the cause of the same, and redused it to a naturall cause, or\nthey interpreted it to their purpose. Cesar fallyng in Africa, in comyng\nof the sea saied, Africa I have taken thee. Moreover manie have declared\nthe cause of the obscuryng of the Moone, and of earthquakes: which thing\nin our time cannot happen, as well because our men be not so\nsupersticious, as also for that our religion taketh away altogether such\nopinions: al be it when they should chaunse, the orders of the\nantiquitie ought to be imitated. When either famishement, or other\nnaturall necessitie, or humaine passion, hath broughte thy enemie to an\nutter desperation, and he driven of the same, cometh to faight with\nthee, thou oughtest to stande within thy campe, and as muche as lieth in\nthy power, to flie the faight. So the Lacedemonians did against the\nMasonians, so Cesar did against Afranio, and Petreio. Fulvius beyng\nConsul, against the Cimbrians, made his horsemen manie daies continually\nto assaulte the enemies, and considered how thei issued out of their\ncampe for to folow them: wherfore he sette an ambusshe behinde the Campe\nof the Cimbrians, and made them to be assaulted of his horsmen, and the\nCimbrians issuyng oute of their campe for to follow them. Fulvio gotte\nit, and sacked it. It hath ben of great utilitie to a Capitaine, havyng\nhis armie nere to the enemies armie, to sende his menne with the enemies\nansignes to robbe, and to burne his owne countrey, whereby the enemies\nbeleevynge those to bee menne, whiche are come in their aide, have also\nrunne to helpe to make them the pray: and for this disorderyng them\nselves, hathe therby given oportunitie to the adversary to overcome\nthem. This waie Alexander of Epirus used againste the Illirans and\nLeptenus of Siracusa against the Carthaginers and bothe to the one and\nto the other, the devise came to passe most happely. Manie have overcome\nthe enemie, gevyng him occasion to eate and to drinke oute of measure,\nfayning to have feared, and leaving their Campes full of wyne and herdes\nof cattell, wherof the enemie beyng filled above all naturall use, have\nthen assaulted him, and with his destruction overthrowen him. So Tamirus\ndid against Cirus, and Tiberius Graccus agaynst the Spaniardes. Some\nhave poysoned the wine, and other thynges to feede on, for to be able\nmore easely to overcome them. I saied a littel afore how I founde not,\nthat the antiquetie kepte in the night Scoutes abroade, and supposed\nthat they did it for to avoide the hurte, whiche might growe therby:\nbecause it is founde, that through no other meane then throughe the\nwatche man, whiche was set in the daie to watche the enemie, hath been\ncause of the ruin of him, that set him there: for that manie times it\nhath hapned, that he beyng taken, hath been made perforce to tell theim\nthe token, whereby they might call his felowes, who commyng to the\ntoken, have been slaine or taken. It helpeth to beguile the enemie\nsometime to varie a custome of thine, whereupon he having grounded him\nself, remaineth ruinated: as a Capitaine did once, whome usinge to cause\nto be made signes to his men for comynge of the enemies in the night\nwith fire, and in the daie with smoke, commaunded that withoute anie\nintermission, they shoulde make smoke and fire, and after commynge upon\nthem the enemie, they should reste, whome beleevyng to come without\nbeynge seen, perceivyng no signe to be made of beyng discovered, caused\n(through goeyng disordered) more easie the victorie to his adversarie.\nMennonus a Rodian mindynge to drawe from stronge places the enemies\narmie, sente one under colour of a fugitive, the whiche affirmed, howe\nhis armie was in discorde, and that the greater parte of them wente\nawaie: and for to make the thynge to be credited, he caused to make in\nsporte, certaine tumultes amonge the lodgynges: whereby the enemie\nthvnkyng thereby to be able to discomfaighte them, assaultynge theim,\nwere overthrowen.\n\n[Sidenote: The enemie ought not to be brought into extreme desperacion;\nHow Lucullus constrained certaine men that ran awaie from him to his\nenemies, to fayght whether they wold or not.]\n\nBesides thesaied thynges, regarde ought to be had not to brynge the\nenemie into extreme desperacion: whereunto Cesar had regarde, faightyng\nwith the Duchemen, who opened them the waie, seyng, howe thei beyng not\nable to flie, necessitie made them strong, and would rather take paine\nto followe theim, when thei fled, then the perill to overcome them, when\nthei defended them selves. Lucullus seyng, how certaine Macedonian\nhorsemenne, whiche were with hym, went to the enemies parte, straight\nwaie made to sounde to battaile, and commaunded, that the other men\nshould folowe hym: whereby the enemies beleving, that Lucullus would\nbegin the faight, went to incounter the same Macedonians, with soche\nviolence, that thei were constrained to defende themselves: and so thei\nbecame against their willes, of fugetives, faighters. It importeth also\nto knowe, how to be assured of a toune, when thou doubteste of the\nfidelitie thereof, so sone as thou haste wonne the fielde, or before,\nthe whiche certain old insamples maie teache thee.\n\n[Sidenote: A policie wher by Pompey got a towne; How Publius Valerius\nassured him self of a towne; A policie that Alexander Magnus used to be\nassured of all Tracia, which Philip kynge of Spaine did practise to be\nasured of England when he wente to sainct Quintens; Examples for\nCapitaines to winne the hartes of the people.]\n\nPompei doubtyng of the Catinensians, praied them that thei would bee\ncontente, to receive certaine sicke menne, that he had in his armie, and\nsendyng under the habite of sicke persones, most lustie menne, gotte the\ntoune. Publius Valerius, fearyng the fidelitie of the Epidannians,\ncaused to come, as who saieth, a Pardon to a churche without the toune,\nand when al the people wer gone for Pardon, he shutte the gates,\nreceivyng after none in, but those whom he trusted. Alexander Magnus,\nmindyng to goe into Asia, and to assure himself of Thracia, toke with\nhim all the principall of thesame Province, givyng theim provision, and\nhe set over the common people of Thracia, men of lowe degree, and so he\nmade the Princes contented with paiyng theim, and the people quiete,\nhavyng no heddes that should disquiete them: But emong all the thynges,\nwith the whiche the Capitaines, winne the hartes of the people, be the\ninsamples of chastitie and justice, as was thesame of Scipio in Spaine,\nwhen he rendered that yong woman, moste faire of personage to her\nfather, and to her housebande: the whiche made him more, then with force\nof armes to winne Spain.\n\nCesar having caused that woodde to bee paied for, whiche he had occupied\nfor to make the Listes, about his armie in Fraunce, got so moche a name\nof justice, that he made easier the conquest of thesame province. I\ncannot tell what remaineth me, to speake more upon these accidentes, for\nthat concerning this matter, there is not lefte any parte, that hath not\nbeen of us disputed. Onely there lacketh to tell, of the maner of\nwinnyng, and defendyng a toune: the whiche I am readie to doe willingly,\nif you be not now wearie.\n\nBAPTISTE. Your humanitie is so moche, that it maketh us to followe our\ndesires, without beyng afraied to be reputed presumptuous, seyng that\nyou liberally offer thesame, whiche we should have been ashamed, to have\nasked you: Therefore, we saie unto you onely this, that to us you cannot\ndooe a greater, nor a more gratefuller benefite, then to finishe this\nreasonyng. But before that you passe to that other matter, declare us a\ndoubte, whether it bee better to continewe the warre, as well in the\nWinter, as thei use now adaies, or to make it onely in the Sommer, and\nto goe home in the Winter, as the antiquitie did.\n\n[Sidenote: Warre ought not to be made in winter; Rough situacions, colde\nand watrie times, are enemies to the oder of warre; An overthrowe caused\nby winter.]\n\nFABRICIO. See, that if the prudence of the demaunder were not, there had\nremained behinde a speciall part, that deserveth consideracion. I\nanswere you againe, that the antiquitie did all thynges better, and with\nmore prudence then wee: and if wee in other things commit some erroure,\nin the affaires of warre, wee commit all errour. There is nothing more\nundiscrete, or more perrillous to a Capitayne, then to make warre in the\nWinter, and muche more perrill beareth he, that maketh it, then he that\nabideth it: the reason is this. All the industrie that is used in the\ndiscipline of warre, is used for to bee prepared to fighte a fielde with\nthy enemie, because this is the ende, whereunto a Capitayne oughte to\ngoo or endevour him selfe: For that the foughten field, geveth thee the\nwarre wonne or loste: then he that knoweth best how to order it, and he\nthat hath his army beste instructed, hath moste advauntage in this, and\nmaye beste hope to overcome. On the other side, there is nothing more\nenemie to the orders, and then the rough situacions, or the colde watery\ntime: for that the rough situacions, suffereth thee not to deffende thy\nbandes, according to thee discipline: the coulde and watery times,\nsuffereth thee not to keepe thy men together, nor thou canst not bring\nthem in good order to the enemy: but it is convenient for thee to lodge\nthem a sunder of necessitie, and without order, being constrayned to\nobeye to Castells, to Boroughes, and to the Villages, that maye receyve\nthee, in maner that all thy laboure of thee, used to instructe the army\nis vaine. Nor marvayle you not though now a daies, they warre in the\nWinter, because the armies being without discipline, know not the hurt\nthat it dooth them, in lodging not together, for that it is no griefe to\nthem not to be able to keepe those orders, and to observe that\ndiscipline, which they have not: yet they oughte to see howe much harme,\nthe Camping in the Winter hath caused, and to remember, how the\nFrenchmen in the yeare of oure Lorde God, a thousande five hundred and\nthree, were broken at Gariliano of the Winter, and not of the\nSpaniardes: For as much as I have saide, he that assaulteth, hath more\ndisadvauntage then he that defendeth: because the fowle weather hurteth\nhim not a littell, being in the dominion of others and minding to make\nwarre. For that he is constrayned, either to stande together with his\nmen, and to sustaine the incommoditie of water and colde, or to avoide\nit to devide his power: But he that defendeth, may chuse the place as he\nlisteth, and tary him with his freshe men: and he in a sodayne may set\nhis men in araye, and goo to find a band of the enemies men, who cannot\nresiste the violence of them. So the Frenchemen were discomfited, and so\nthey shall alwayes be discomfited, which will assaulte in the Winter an\nenemye, whoo hath in him prudence. Then he that will that force, that\norders, that discipline and vertue, in anye condition availe him not,\nlet him make warre in the fielde in the winter: and because that the\nRomaines woulde that all these thinges, in which they bestowed so much\ndiligence, should availe them, fleedde no otherwise the Winter, then the\nhighe Alpes, and difficulte places, and whatsoever other thing shoulde\nlet them, for being able to shewe their arte and their vertue. So this\nsuffiseth to your demaund, wherefore we wil come to intreate of the\ndefending and besieging of tounes, and of their situacions and\nedifications.\n\n\n\n\nTHE SEVENTH BOOKE\n\n\n[Sidenote: Tounes and Fortresses maie be strong twoo waies; The place\nthat now a daies is moste sought to fortifie in; How a Toune walle ought\nto bee made; The walle of a toune ought to bee high, and the diche\nwithin, and not without; The thickenes that a Toune walle ought to bee\nof, and the distaunces betwene everie flancker, and of what breadth and\ndeapth the dich ought to bee; How the ordinaunce is planted, for the\ndefence of a toune; The nature of the batterie.]\n\nYou oughte to knowe, how that tounes and fortresses, maie bee strong\neither by nature, or by industrie; by nature, those bee strong, whiche\nbee compassed aboute with rivers, or with Fennes, as Mantua is and\nFerrara, or whiche bee builded upon a Rocke, or upon a stepe hille, as\nMonaco, and Sanleo: For that those that stande upon hilles, that be not\nmoche difficulct to goe up, be now a daies, consideryng the artillerie\nand the Caves, moste weake. And therfore moste often times in building,\nthei seke now a daies a plain, for to make it stronge with industrie.\nThe firste industrie is, to make the walles crooked, and full of\ntournynges, and of receiptes: the whiche thyng maketh, that thenemie\ncannot come nere to it, bicause he maie be hurte, not onely on the\nfront, but by flancke. If the walles be made high, thei bee to moche\nsubjecte to the blowes of the artillerie: if thei be made lowe, thei bee\nmoste easie to scale. If thou makeste the diches on the out side\nthereof, for to give difficultie to the Ladders, if it happen that the\nenemie fill them up (whiche a great armie maie easely dooe) the wall\nremaineth taken of thenemie. Therefore purposyng to provide to the one\nand thother foresaid inconveniences, I beleve (savyng alwaies better\njudgement) that the walle ought to be made highe, and the Diche within,\nand not without. This is the moste strongeste waie of edificacion, that\nis made, for that it defendeth thee from the artillerie, and from\nLadders, and it giveth not facilitie to the enemie, to fill up the\ndiche: Then the walle ought to be high, of that heighth as shall bee\nthought beste, and no lesse thick, then two yardes and a quarter, for to\nmake it more difficult to ruinate. Moreover it ought to have the toures\nplaced, with distances of CL. yardes betwen thone and thother: the diche\nwithin, ought to be at leaste twoo and twentie yardes and a halfe broad,\nand nine depe, and al the yearth that is digged out, for to make the\ndiche, muste be throwen towardes the Citee, and kepte up of a walle,\nthat muste be raised from the bottome of the diche, and goe so high over\nthe toune, that a man maie bee covered behinde thesame, the whiche thing\nshal make the depth of the diche the greater. In the bottome of the\ndiche, within every hundred and l. yardes, there would be a slaughter\nhouse, which with the ordinaunce, maie hurte whom so ever should goe\ndoune into thesame: the greate artillerie that defende the citee, are\nplanted behinde the walle, that shutteth the diche, bicause for to\ndefende the utter walle, being high, there cannot bee occupied\ncommodiously, other then smalle or meane peeses. If the enemie come to\nscale, the heigth of the firste walle moste easely defendeth thee: if he\ncome with ordinaunce, it is convenient for hym to batter the utter\nwalle: but it beyng battered, for that the nature of the batterie is, to\nmake the walle to fall, towardes the parte battered, the ruine of the\nwalle commeth, finding no diche that receiveth and hideth it, to\nredouble the profunditie of thesame diche: after soche sorte, that to\npasse any further, it is not possible, findyng a ruine that with holdeth\nthee, a diche that letteth thee, and the enemies ordinaunce, that from\nthe walle of the diche, moste safely killeth thee. Onely there is this\nremedie, to fill the diche: the whiche is moste difficulte to dooe, as\nwell bicause the capacitie thereof is greate, as also for the\ndifficultie, that is in commyng nere it, the walle beeyng strong and\nconcaved, betwene the whiche, by the reasons aforesaied, with\ndifficultie maie be entered, havyng after to goe up a breache through a\nruin, whiche giveth thee moste greate difficultie, so that I suppose a\ncitee thus builded, to be altogether invinsible.\n\nBAPTISTE. When there should bee made besides the diche within, a diche\nalso without, should it not bee stronger?\n\nFABRICIO. It should be without doubt, but mindyng to make one diche\nonely, myne opinion is, that it standeth better within then without.\n\nBAPTISTE. Would you, that water should bee in the diches, or would you\nhave them drie?\n\n[Sidenote: A drie diche is moste sureste.]\n\nFABRICIO. The opinion of men herein bee divers, bicause the diches full\nof water, saveth thee from mines under grounde, the Diches without\nwater, maketh more difficulte the fillyng of them: but I havyng\nconsidered all, would make them without water, for that thei bee more\nsure: For diches with water, have been seen in the Winter to bee frosen,\nand to make easie the winnyng of a citee, as it happened to Mirandola,\nwhen Pope Julie besieged it: and for to save me from mines, I would make\nit so deepe, that he that would digge lower, should finde water.\n\n[Sidenote: An advertisemente for the buildyng and defending of a Toune\nor Fortresse; Small fortresses cannot bee defended; A toune of war or\nFortresse, ought not to have in them any retiring places; Cesar Borgia;\nThe causes of the losse of the Fortresse of Furlie, that was thought\ninvincible; Howe the houses that are in a toune of war or Fortresse\nought to be builded.]\n\nThe Fortresses also, I would builde concernyng the diches and the walles\nin like maner, to the intent thei should have the like difficultie to be\nwonne. One thyng I will earnestly advise hym, that defendeth a Citee:\nand that is, that he make no Bulwarkes without distaunte from the walle\nof thesame: and an other to hym that buildeth the Fortresse, and this\nis, that he make not any refuge place in them, in whiche he that is\nwithin, the firste walle beyng loste, maie retire: That whiche maketh me\nto give the firste counsaile is, that no manne ought to make any thyng,\nby meane wherof, he maie be driven without remedie to lese his firste\nreputacion, the whiche losyng, causeth to be estemed lesse his other\ndoinges, and maketh afraied them, whom have taken upon theim his\ndefence, and alwaies it shall chaunce him this, whiche I saie, when\nthere are made Bulwarkes out of the Toune, that is to bee defended,\nbicause alwaies he shall leese theim, little thynges now a daies, beyng\nnot able to bee defended, when thei be subject to the furie of\nordinance, in soche wise that lesyng them, thei be beginning and cause\nof his ruine. When Genua rebelled againste king Leus of Fraunce, it made\ncertaine Bulwarkes alofte on those hilles, whiche bee about it, the\nwhiche so sone as thei were loste, whiche was sodainly, made also the\ncitee to be loste. Concernyng the second counsaile, I affirme nothyng to\nbe to a Fortresse more perilous, then to be in thesame refuge places, to\nbe able to retire: Bicause the hope that menne have thereby, maketh that\nthei leese the utter warde, when it is assaulted: and that loste, maketh\nto bee loste after, all the Fortresse. For insample there is freshe in\nremembraunce, the losse of the Fortresse of Furly, when Catherin the\nCountesse defended it againste Cesar Borgia, sonne to Pope Alexander the\nvi. who had conducted thether the armie of the king of Fraunce: thesame\nFortresse, was al full of places, to retire out of one into an other:\nfor that there was firste the kepe, from the same to the Fortresse, was\na diche after soche sorte, that thei passed over it by a draw bridge:\nthe fortresse was devided into three partes, and every parte was devided\nfrom the other with diches, and with water, and by Bridges, thei passed\nfrom the one place to the other: wherefore the Duke battered with his\nartillerie, one of the partes of the fortresse, and opened part of the\nwalle: For whiche cause Maister Jhon Casale, whiche was appoincted to\nthat Warde, thought not good to defende that breache, but abandoned it\nfor to retire hymself into the other places: so that the Dukes men\nhaving entered into that parte without incounter, in a sodaine thei\ngotte it all: For that the Dukes menne became lordes of the bridges,\nwhiche went from one place to an other. Thei loste then this Fortresse,\nwhiche was thought invinsible, through two defaultes, the one for havyng\nso many retiryng places, the other, bicause every retiryng place, was\nnot Lorde of the bridge thereof. Therefore, the naughtie builded\nFortresse, and the little wisedome of them that defended it, caused\nshame to the noble enterprise of the countesse, whoe had thought to have\nabidden an armie, whiche neither the kyng of Naples, nor the Duke of\nMilaine would have abidden: and although his inforcementes had no good\nende, yet notwithstandyng he gotte that honoure, whiche his\nvaliauntnesse had deserved: The whiche was testified of many Epigrammes,\nmade in those daies in his praise. Therefore, if I should have to builde\na Fortresse, I would make the walles strong, and the diches in the maner\nas we have reasoned, nor I would not make therein other, then houses to\ninhabite, and those I would make weake and lowe, after soche sorte that\nthei should not let him that should stande in the middest of the Market\nplace, the sight of all the walle, to the intente that the Capitain\nmight see with the iye, where he maie succour: and that every manne\nshould understande, that the walle and the diche beyng lost, the\nfortresse were lost. And yet when I should make any retiryng places, I\nwould make the bridges devided in soche wise, that every parte should be\nLorde of the bridges of his side, ordainyng, that thei should fall upon\npostes, in the middest of the diche.\n\nBAPTISTE. You have saied that littel thynges now a daies can not bee\ndefended, and it seemed unto me to have understoode the contrarie, that\nthe lesser that a thyng wer, the better it might be defended.\n\n[Sidenote: The fortifiyng of the entrance of a Toune.]\n\nFABRICIO. You have not understoode well, because that place cannot be\nnow a daies called stronge, wher he that defendeth it, hath not space to\nretire with new diches, and with new fortificacions, for that the force\nof the ordinance is so much, that he that trusteth uppon the warde of\none wall and of one fortification only, is deceived: and because the\nBulwarkes (mindyng that they passe not their ordinarie measure, for that\nthen they shoulde be townes and Castels) be not made, in suche wise that\nmen maie have space within them to retire, thei are loste straight waie.\nTherefore it is wisdom to let alone those Bulwarkes without, and to\nfortifie thenterance of the toune, and to kever the gates of the same\nwith turnyngs after suche sort, that men cannot goe in nor oute of the\ngate by right line: and from the tournynges to the gate, to make a diche\nwith a bridge. Also they fortifie the gate, with a Percullis, for to bee\nabell to put therin their menne, when they be issued out to faight, and\nhapnyng that the enemies pursue them, to avoide, that in the mingelynge\ntogether, they enter not in with them: and therfore these be used, the\nwhich the antiquitie called Cattarratte, the whiche beyng let fall,\nexclude thenemies, and save the freendes, for that in suche a case, men\ncan do no good neither by bridges nor by a gate, the one and the other\nbeynge ocupied with prease of menne.\n\nBAPTISTE. I have seene these Perculleses that you speake of, made in\nAlmayne of littell quarters of woodde after the facion of a grate of\nIron, and these percullises of ouers, be made of plankes all massive: I\nwoulde desire to understande whereof groweth this difference, and which\nbe the strongest.\n\n[Sidenote: Battelments ought to be large and thicke and the flanckers\nlarge within.]\n\nFABRICIO. I tell you agayne, that the manners and orders of the warre,\nthroughe oute all the worlde, in respecte to those of the antiquitie, be\nextinguesshed, and in Italye they bee altogether loste, for if there bee\na thing somewhat stronger then the ordinarye, it groweth of the insample\nof other countries. You mighte have understoode and these other may\nremember, with howe muche debilitie before, that king Charles of Fraunce\nin the yere of our salvation a thousande CCCC. xciiii. had passed into\nItalie, they made the batelmentes not halfe a yarde thicke, the loopes,\nand the flanckers were made with a litle opening without, and muche\nwithin, and with manye other faultes whiche not to be tedious I will let\npasse: for that easely from thinne battelments the defence is taken\nawaye, the flanckers builded in the same maner, moste easylye are\nopened: Nowe of the Frenchemen is learned to make the battelment large\nand thicke, and the flanckers to bee large on the parte within, and to\ndrawe together in the middeste of the wall, and then agayn to waxe wider\nunto the uttermost parte without: this maketh that the ordinaunce\nhardlye can take away the defence. Therfore the Frenchmen have, manye\nother devises like these, the whiche because they have not beene seene\nof our men, they have not beene considered. Among whiche, is this kinde\nof perculles made like unto a grate, the which is a greate deale better\nthen oures: for that if you have for defence of a gate a massive\nparculles as oures, letting it fall, you shutte in your menne, and you\ncan not though the same hurte the enemie, so that hee with axes, and\nwith fire, maye breake it downe safely: but if it bee made like a grate,\nyou maye, it being let downe, through those holes and through those open\nplaces, defende it with Pikes, with crosbowes, and with all other kinde\nof weapons.\n\nBAPTISTE. I have seene in Italye an other use after the outelandishe\nfashion, and this is, to make the carriage of the artillery with the\nspokes of the wheele crooked towardes the Axeltree. I woulde knowe why\nthey make them so: seeming unto mee that they bee stronger when they are\nmade straighte as those of oure wheeles.\n\n[Sidenote: Neither the ditche, wall tillage, nor any kinde of\nedificacion, ought to be within a mile of a toune of warre.]\n\nFABRICIO. Never beleeve that the thinges that differ from the ordinarie\nwayes, be made by chaunce: and if you shoulde beleeve that they make\nthem so, to shewe fayrer, you are deceaved: because where strength is\nnecessarie, there is made no counte of fayrenesse: but all groweth, for\nthat they be muche surer and muche stronger then ours. The reason is\nthis: the carte when it is laden, either goeth even, or leaning upon the\nrighte, or upon the lefte side: when it goeth even, the wheeles equally\nsustayne the wayght, the which being equallye devided betweene them,\ndoth not burden much, but leaning, it commeth to have all the paise of\nthe cariage on the backe of that wheele upon the which it leaneth. If\nthe spokes of the same be straight they wil soone breake: for that the\nwheele leaning, the spokes come also to leane, and not to sustaine the\npaise by the straightnesse of them, and so when the carte goeth even,\nand when they are least burdened, they come to bee strongest: when the\nCarte goeth awrye, and that they come to have moste paise, they bee\nweakest. Even the contrarie happeneth to the crooked spokes of the\nFrenche Cartes, for that when the carte leaning upon one side poincteth\nuppon them, because they bee ordinary crooked, they come then to bee\nstraight, and to be able to sustayne strongly al the payse, where when\nthe carte goeth even, and that they bee crooked, they sustayne it halfe:\nbut let us tourne to our citie and Fortresse. The Frenchemen use also\nfor more safegarde of the gates of their townes, and for to bee able in\nsieges more easylye to convey and set oute men of them, besides the\nsayde thinges, an other devise, of which I have not seene yet in Italye\nanye insample: and this is, where they rayse on the oute side from the\nende of the drawe bridge twoo postes, and upon either of them they\njoigne a beame, in suche wise that the one halfe of them comes over the\nbridge, the other halfe with oute: then all the same parte that commeth\nwithoute, they joygne together with small quarters of woodde, the whiche\nthey set thicke from one beame to an other like unto a grate, and on the\nparte within, they fasten to the ende of either of the beames a chaine:\nthen when they will shutte the bridge on the oute side, they slacke the\nchaines, and let downe all the same parte like unto a grate, the whiche\ncomming downe, shuttethe the bridge, and when they will open it, they\ndrawe the chaines, and the same commeth to rise up, and they maye raise\nit up so much that a man may passe under it, and not a horse, and so\nmuch that there maye passe horse and man, and shutte it againe at ones,\nfor that it falleth and riseth as a window of a battelment. This devise\nis more sure than the Parculles, because hardely it maye be of the\nenemye lette in such wise, that it fall not downe, falling not by a\nrighte line as the Parculles, which easely may be underpropped. Therfore\nthey which will make a citie oughte to cause to be ordained all the\nsaide things: and moreover aboute the walle, there woulde not bee\nsuffered any grounde to be tilled, within a myle thereof, nor any wall\nmade, but shoulde be all champaine, where should be neither ditch nor\nbanck, neither tree nor house, which might let the fighte, and make\ndefence for the enemie that incampeth.\n\n[Sidenote: Noote; The provision that is meete to be made for the defence\nof a toune.]\n\nAnd noote, that a Towne, whiche hathe the ditches withoute, with the\nbanckes higher then the grounde, is moste weake: for as muche as they\nmake defence to the enemye which assaulteth thee, and letteth him not\nhurte thee, because easely they may be opened, and geve place to his\nartillerye: but let us passe into the Towne. I will not loose so muche\ntime in shewing you howe that besides the foresayde thinges, it is\nrequisite to have provision of victualles, and wherewith to fight, for\nthat they be thinges that everye man underdeth, and without them, all\nother provision is vaine: and generally twoo thinges oughte to be done,\nto provide and to take the commoditie from the enemie that he availe not\nby the things of thy countrey: therfore the straw, the beastes, the\ngraine, whiche thou canste not receive into house, ought to be\ndestroied. Also he that defendeth a Towne, oughte to provide that\nnothing bee done tumultuouslye and disordinatelye, and to take suche\norder, that in all accidentes everye man maye knowe what he hath to doo.\n\n[Sidenote: What incoragethe the enemy most that besiegeth a toune; What\nhe that besiegeth and he that defendeth oughte to doo; Advertisementes\nfor a besieged towne; Howe the Romaines vitaled Casalino besieged of\nAniball; A policie for the besieged.]\n\nThe order that oughte to be taken is thus, that the women, the olde\nfolkes, the children, and the impotent, be made to keepe within doores,\nthat the Towne maye be left free, to yong and lustie men, whom being\narmed, must be destributed for the defence of the same, appointing part\nof them to the wall, parte to the gates, parte to the principall places\nof the Citie, for to remedie those inconveniences, that might growe\nwithin: an other parte must not be bound to any place, but be ready to\nsuccour all, neede requiring: and the thing beeing ordained thus, with\ndifficultie tumulte can growe, whiche maye disorder thee. Also I will\nthat you note this, in the besieging and defending of a Citie, that\nnothing geveth so muche hoope to the adversarye to be able to winne a\ntowne, as when he knoweth that the same is not accustomed to see the\nenemie: for that many times for feare onely without other experience of\nforce, cities have bene loste: Therefore a man oughte, when he\nassaulteth a like Citie, to make all his ostentacions terrible. On the\nother parte he that is assaulted, oughte to appoincte to the same parte,\nwhiche the enemie fighteth againste, strong men and suche as opinion\nmakethe not afraide, but weapons onely: for that if the first proofe\nturne vaine, it increaseth boldenesse to the besieged, and then the\nenemie is constrained to overcome them within, with vertue and\nreputacion. The instrumentes wherwith the antiquitie defended townes,\nwhere manie: as balistes, onagris, scorpions, Arcubalistes, Fustibals,\nSlinges: and also those were manie with which thei gave assaultes. As\nArrieti, Towers, Musculi Plutei, Viney, Falci, testudeni, in steede of\nwhich thynges be now a daies the ordinance, the whiche serve him that\nbessegeth, and him that defendeth: and therfore I will speake no forther\nof theim: But let us retourne to our reasonyng and let us come to\nparticular offences. They ought to have care not to be taken by famine,\nand not to be overcome through assaultes: concernyng famin, it hath ben\ntolde, that it is requiset before the siege come, to be well provided of\nvitualles. But when a towne throughe longe siege, lacketh victuals, some\ntimes hath ben seen used certaine extraordinarie waies to be provided of\ntheir friendes, whome woulde save them: inespeciall if through the\nmiddest of the besieged Citie there runne a river, as the Romaines\nvittelled their castell called Casalino besieged of Anibal, whom being\nnot able by the river to sende them other victual then Nuttes, wherof\ncastyng in the same great quantitie, the which carried of the river,\nwithout beyng abel to be letted, fedde longe time the Casalinians. Some\nbesieged, for to shew unto the enemie, that they have graine more then\ninough and for to make him to dispaire, that he cannot, by famin\novercome theim, have caste breade oute of the gates, or geven a Bullocke\ngraine to eate, and after have suffered the same to be taken, to the\nintent that kilde and founde full of graine, might shewe that\naboundance, whiche they had not. On the other parte excellent Capitaines\nhave used sundrie waies to werie the enemie.\n\n[Sidenote: A policie of Fabius in besieging of a toune; A policie of\nDionisius in besiegynge of a toune.]\n\nFabius suffered them whome he besieged, to sowe their fieldes, to the\nentente that thei should lacke the same corne, whiche they sowed.\n\nDionisius beynge in Campe at Regio, fained to minde to make an agreement\nwith them, and duryng the practise therof he caused him selfe to be\nprovided of their victuales, and then when he had by this mean got from\nthem their graine, he kepte them straight and famished them.\n\n[Sidenote: Howe Alexander wanne Leucadia.]\n\nAlexander Magnus mindyng to winne Leucadia overcame all the Castels\naboute it, and by that means drivyng into the same citie a great\nmultitude of their owne countrie men, famished them.\n\n[Sidenote: The besieged ought to take heed of the first brunte; The\nremedie that townes men have, when the enemies ar entred into the towne;\nHow to make the townes men yeelde.]\n\nConcernynge the assaultes, there hath been tolde that chiefely thei\nought to beware of the firste bronte, with whiche the Romaines gotte\noften times manie townes, assaultyng them sodainly, and on every side:\nand thei called it _Aggredi urbem corona_. As Scipio did, when he wanne\nnewe Carthage in Hispayne: the which brunte if of a towne it be\nwithstoode, with difficultie after will bee overcome: and yet thoughe it\nshould happen that the enemie were entred into the citie, by overcomynge\nthe wall, yet the townes men have some remedie, so thei forsake it not:\nfor as much as manie armies through entring into a toune, have ben\nrepulced or slaine: the remedie is, that the townes men doe keepe them\nselves in highe places, and from the houses, and from the towers to\nfaight with them: the whiche thynge, they that have entered into the\ncitie, have devised to overcome in twoo manners: the one with openyng\nthe gates of the citie, and to make the waie for the townes men, that\nthei might safely flie: the other with sendynge foorthe a proclamacion,\nthat signifieth, that none shall be hurte but the armed, and to them\nthat caste their weapons on the grounde, pardon shall be graunted: the\nwhiche thynge hath made easie the victorie of manie cities.\n\n[Sidenote: How townes or cities are easelie wonne; How duke Valentine\ngot the citie of Urbine; The besieged ought to take heede of the\ndeciptes and policies of the enemie; How Domitio Calvino wan a towne.]\n\nBesides this, the Citees are easie to bee wonne, if thou come upon them\nunawares: whiche is dooen beyng with thy armie farre of, after soche\nsort, that it be not beleved, either that thou wilte assaulte theim, or\nthat thou canst dooe it, without commyng openly, bicause of the distance\nof the place: wherefore, if thou secretely and spedely assaulte theim,\nalmoste alwaies it shall followe, that thou shalte gette the victorie. I\nreason unwillingly of the thynges succeded in our tyme, for that to me\nand to mine, it should be a burthen, and to reason of other, I cannot\ntel what to saie: notwithstanding, I cannot to this purpose but declare,\nthe insample of Cesar Borgia, called duke Valentine, who beyng at Nocera\nwith his menne, under colour of goyng to besiege Camerino, tourned\ntowardes the state of Urbin, and gotte a state in a daie, and without\nany paine, the whiche an other with moche time and cost, should scante\nhave gotten. It is conveniente also to those, that be besieged, to take\nheede of the deceiptes, and of the policies of the enemie, and therefore\nthe besieged ought not to truste to any thyng, whiche thei see the\nenemie dooe continually, but let theim beleve alwaies, that it is under\ndeceipte, and that he can to their hurte varie it. Domitio Calvino\nbesiegyng a toune, used for a custome to compasse aboute every daie,\nwith a good parte of his menne, the wall of the same: whereby the Tounes\nmenne, belevyng that he did it for exercise, slacked the Ward: whereof\nDomicius beyng aware, assaulted and overcame them.\n\n[Sidenote: A policie to get a towne.]\n\nCertaine Capitaines understandyng, that there should come aide to the\nbesieged, have apareled their Souldiours, under the Ansigne of those,\nthat should come, and beyng let in, have gotte the Toune.\n\n[Sidenote: How Simon of Athens wan a towne; A policie to get a towne;\nHow Scipio gotte certaine castels in Afrike.]\n\nSimon of Athens set fire in a night on a Temple, whiche was out of the\ntoune, wherefore, the tounes menne goyng to succour it, lefte the toune\nin praie to the enemie. Some have slaine those, whiche from the besieged\nCastle, have gone a foragyng, and have appareled their souldiours, with\nthe apparell of the forragers, whom after have gotte the toune. The\naunciente Capitaines, have also used divers waies, to destroie the\nGarison of the Toune, whiche thei have sought to take. Scipio beyng in\nAfrica, and desiring to gette certaine Castles, in whiche were putte the\nGarrisons of Carthage, he made many tymes, as though he would assaulte\ntheim, albeit, he fained after, not onely to abstaine, but to goe awaie\nfrom them for feare: the whiche Aniball belevyng to bee true, for to\npursue hym with greater force, and for to bee able more easely to\noppresse him, drewe out all the garrisons of theim: The whiche Scipio\nknowyng, sente Massinissa his Capitaine to overcome them.\n\n[Sidenote: Howe Pirrus wan the chiefe Citie of Sclavonie; A policie to\nget a towne; How the beseiged are made to yelde; Howe to get a towne by\ntreason; A policie of Aniball for the betraiyng of a Castell; How the\nbesieged maie be begiled; How Formion overcame the Calcidensians; What\nthe besieged muste take heede of; Liberalitie maketh enemies frendes;\nThe diligence that the besieged ought to use in their watche and ward.]\n\nPirrus makyng warre in Sclavonie, to the chiefe citee of the same\ncountrie, where were brought many menne in Garrison, fained to dispaire\nto bee able to winne it, and tourning to other places, made that the\nsame for to succour them, emptied it self of the warde, and became easie\nto bee wonne. Many have corrupted the water, and have tourned the rivers\nan other waie to take Tounes. Also the besieged, are easely made to\nyelde them selves, makyng theim afraied, with signifiyng unto them a\nvictorie gotten, or with new aides, whiche come in their disfavour. The\nold Capitaines have sought to gette Tounes by treason, corruptyng some\nwithin, but thei have used divers meanes. Sum have sente a manne of\ntheirs, whiche under the name of a fugetive, might take aucthoritie and\ntruste with the enemies, who after have used it to their profite. Some\nby this meanes, have understode the maner of the watche, and by meanes\nof the same knowledge, have taken the Toune. Some with a Carte, or with\nBeames under some colour, have letted the gate, that it could not bee\nshutte, and with this waie, made the entrie easie to the enemie. Aniball\nperswaded one, to give him a castle of the Romaines, and that he should\nfain to go a huntyng in the night, makyng as though he could not goe by\ndaie, for feare of the enemies, and tournyng after with the Venison,\nshould put in with hym certaine of his menne, and so killyng the\nwatchmen, should give hym the gate. Also the besieged are beguiled, with\ndrawyng them out of the Toune, and goyng awaie from them, faining to\nflie when thei assault thee. And many (emong whom was Anibal) have for\nno other intente, let their Campe to be taken, but to have occasion to\nget betwene theim and home, and to take their Toune. Also, thei are\nbeguiled with fainyng to departe from them, as Formion of Athens did,\nwho havyng spoiled the countrie of the Calcidensians, received after\ntheir ambassadours, fillyng their Citee with faire promises, and hope of\nsafetie, under the which as simple menne, thei were a little after of\nFormione oppressed. The besieged ought to beware of the men, whiche thei\nhave in suspecte emong them: but some times thei are wont, as well to\nassure them selves with deserte, as with punishemente. Marcellus\nknoweyng how Lucius Bancius a Nolane, was tourned to favour Aniball so\nmoche humanitie and liberalitie, he used towardes him, that of an\nenemie, he made him moste frendely. The besieged ought to use more\ndiligence in the warde, when the enemie is gone from theim, then when he\nis at hande. And thei ought to warde those places, whiche thei thinke,\nthat maie bee hurt least: for that many tounes have been loste, when\nthenemie assaulteth it on thesame part, where thei beleve not possible\nto be assaulted. And this deceipt groweth of twoo causes, either for the\nplace being strong, and to beleve, that it is invinsible, or through\ncraft beyng used of the enemie, in assaltyng theim on one side with\nfained alaroms, and on the other without noise, and with verie assaltes\nin deede: and therefore the besieged, ought to have greate advertisment,\nand above all thynges at all times, and in especially in the night to\nmake good watche to bee kepte on the walles, and not onely to appoincte\nmenne, but Dogges, and soche fiearse Mastives, and lively, the whiche by\ntheir sente maie descrie the enemie, and with barkyng discover him: and\nnot Dogges onely, but Geese have ben seen to have saved a citee, as it\nhappened to Roome, when the Frenchemen besieged the Capitoll.\n\n[Sidenote: An order of Alcibiades for the dew keping of watch and\nwarde.]\n\nAlcibiades for to see, whether the warde watched, Athense beeyng\nbesieged of the Spartaines, ordained that when in the night, he should\nlifte up a light, all the ward should lift up likewise, constitutyng\npunishmente to hym that observed it not.\n\n[Sidenote: The secrete conveighyng of Letters; The defence against a\nbreach; How the antiquitie got tounes by muining under grounde.]\n\nIsicrates of Athens killed a watchman, which slept, saiyng that he lefte\nhim as he found him. Those that have been besieged, have used divers\nmeanes, to sende advise to their frendes: and mindyng not to send their\nmessage by mouth, thei have written letters in Cifers, and hidden them\nin sundrie wise: the Cifers be according, as pleaseth him that ordaineth\nthem, the maner of hidyng them is divers. Some have written within the\nscaberde of a sweard: Other have put the Letters in an unbaked lofe, and\nafter have baked the same, and given it for meate to hym that caried\ntheim. Certaine have hidden them, in the secreteste place of their\nbodies: other have hidden them in the collor of a Dogge, that is\nfamiliare with hym, whiche carrieth theim: Some have written in a letter\nordinarie thinges, and after betwene thone line and thother, have also\nwritten with water, that wetyng it or warming it after, the letters\nshould appere. This waie hath been moste politikely observed in our\ntime: where some myndyng to signifie to their freendes inhabityng within\na towne, thinges to be kept secret, and mindynge not to truste any\nperson, have sente common matters written, accordyng to the common use\nand enterlined it, as I have saied above, and the same have made to be\nhanged on the gates of the Temples, the whiche by countersignes beyng\nknowen of those, unto whome they have been sente, were taken of and\nredde: the whiche way is moste politique, bicause he that carrieth them\nmaie bee beguiled, and there shall happen hym no perill. There be moste\ninfinite other waies, whiche every manne maie by himself rede and finde:\nbut with more facilitie, the besieged maie bee written unto, then the\nbesieged to their frendes without, for that soche letters cannot be\nsent, but by one, under colour of a fugetive, that commeth out of a\ntoune: the whiche is a daungerous and perilous thing, when thenemie is\nany whit craftie: But those that sende in, he that is sente, maie under\nmany colours, goe into the Campe that besiegeth, and from thens takyng\nconveniente occasion, maie leape into the toune: but lette us come to\nspeake of the present winnyng of tounes. I saie that if it happen, that\nthou bee besieged in thy citee, whiche is not ordained with diches\nwithin, as a little before we shewed, to mynde that thenemie shall not\nenter through the breach of the walle, whiche the artillerie maketh:\nbicause there is no remedie to lette thesame from makyng of a breache,\nit is therefore necessarie for thee, whileste the ordinance battereth,\nto caste a diche within the wall which is battered, and that it be in\nbredth at leaste twoo and twentie yardes and a halfe, and to throwe all\nthesame that is digged towardes the toun, whiche maie make banke, and\nthe diche more deper: and it is convenient for thee, to sollicitate this\nworke in soche wise, that when the walle falleth, the Diche maie be\ndigged at least, fower or five yardes in depth: the whiche diche is\nnecessarie, while it is a digging, to shutte it on every side with a\nslaughter house: and when the wall is so strong, that it giveth thee\ntime to make the diche, and the slaughter houses, that battered parte,\ncommeth to be moche stronger, then the rest of the citee: for that soche\nfortificacion, cometh to have the forme, of the diches which we devised\nwithin: but when the walle is weake, and that it giveth thee not tyme,\nto make like fortificacions, then strengthe and valiauntnesse muste bee\nshewed, settyng againste the enemies armed menne, with all thy force.\nThis maner of fortificacion was observed of the Pisans, when you\nbesieged theim, and thei might doe it, bicause thei had strong walles,\nwhiche gave them time, the yearth beyng softe and moste meete to raise\nup banckes, and to make fortificacions: where if thei had lacked this\ncommoditie, thei should have loste the toune. Therefore it shall bee\nalwaies prudently doen, to provide afore hand, makyng diches within the\ncitee, and through out all the circuite thereof, as a little before wee\ndevised: for that in this case, the enemie maie safely be taried for at\nlaisure, the fortificacions beyng redy made. The antiquitie many tymes\ngotte tounes, with muinyng under ground in twoo maners, either thei made\na waie under grounde secretely, whiche risse in the toune, and by\nthesame entered, in whiche maner the Romaines toke the citee of Veienti,\nor with the muinyng, thei overthrewe a walle, and made it ruinate: this\nlaste waie is now a daies moste stronge, and maketh, that the citees\nplaced high, be most weake, bicause thei maie better bee under muined:\nand puttyng after in a Cave of this Gunne pouder, whiche in a momente\nkindelyng, not onely ruinateth a wall, but it openeth the hilles, and\nutterly dissolveth the strength of them.\n\n[Sidenote: The reamedie against Caves or undermuinynges; What care the\nbesieged ought to have; What maketh a citee or campe difficulte to bee\ndefended; By what meanes thei that besiege ar made afraied; Honour got\nby constancie.]\n\nThe remedie for this, is to builde in the plain, and to make the diche\nthat compasseth thy citee, so deepe, that the enemie maie not digge\nlower then thesame, where he shall not finde water, whiche onely is\nenemie to the caves: for if thou be in a toune, which thou defendest on\na high ground, thou canst not remedie it otherwise, then to make within\nthy walles many deepe Welles, the whiche be as drouners to thesame\nCaves, that the enemie is able to ordain against thee. An other remedie\nthere is, to make a cave againste it, when thou shouldeste bee aware\nwhere he muineth, the whiche waie easely hindereth hym, but difficultly\nit is foreseen, beyng besieged of a craftie enemie. He that is besieged,\nought above al thinges to have care, not to bee oppressed in the tyme of\nreste: as is after a battaile fought, after the watche made, whiche is\nin the Mornyng at breake of daie, and in the Evenyng betwen daie and\nnight, and above al, at meale times: in whiche tyme many tounes have\nbeen wonne, and armies have been of them within ruinated: therefore it\nis requisite with diligence on all partes, to stande alwaies garded, and\nin a good part armed. I will not lacke to tell you, how that, whiche\nmaketh a citee or a campe difficult to be defended, is to be driven to\nkepe sundred all the force, that thou haste in theim, for that the\nenemie beyng able to assaulte thee at his pleasure altogether, it is\nconveniente for thee on every side, to garde every place, and so he\nassaulteth thee with all his force, and thou with parte of thine\ndefendest thee. Also, the besieged maie bee overcome altogether, he\nwithout cannot bee, but repulced: wherefore many, whom have been\nbesieged, either in a Campe, or in a Toune, although thei have been\ninferiour of power, have issued out with their men at a sodaine, and\nhave overcome the enemie. This Marcellus of Nola did: this did Cesar in\nFraunce, where his Campe beeyng assaulted of a moste great nomber of\nFrenchmen, and seeyng hymself not able to defende it, beyng constrained\nto devide his force into many partes, and not to bee able standyng\nwithin the Listes, with violence to repulce thenemie: he opened the\ncampe on thone side, and turning towardes thesame parte with all his\npower, made so moche violence against them, and with moche valiantnes,\nthat he vanquisshed and overcame them. The constancie also of the\nbesieged, causeth many tymes displeasure, and maketh afraied them that\ndoe besiege. Pompei beyng against Cesar, and Cesars armie beeyng in\ngreate distresse through famine, there was brought of his bredde to\nPompei, whom seyng it made of grasse, commaunded, that it should not bee\nshewed unto his armie, least it shoulde make them afraide, seyng what\nenemies they had against theim. Nothyng caused so muche honour to the\nRomaines in the warre of Aniball, as their constancie: for as muche as\nin what so ever envious, and adverse fortune thei were troubled, they\nnever demaunded peace, thei never made anie signe of feare, but rather\nwhen Aniball was aboute Rome, thei solde those fieldes, where he had\npitched his campe, dearer then ordinarie in other times shoulde have\nbeen solde: and they stoode in so much obstinacie in their enterprises,\nthat for to defende Rome, thei would not raise their campe from Capua,\nthe whiche in the verie same time that Roome was besieged, the Romaines\ndid besiege.\n\nI knowe that I have tolde you of manie thynges, the whiche by your selfe\nyou might have understoode, and considered, notwithstandyng I have doen\nit (as to daie also I have tolde you) for to be abell to shewe you\nbetter by meane therof, the qualitie of this armie, and also for to\nsatisfie those, if there be anie, whome have not had the same commoditie\nto understand them as you. Nor me thinkes that there resteth other to\ntell you, then certaine generall rules, the whiche you shal have moste\nfamiliar, which be these.\n\n[Sidenote: Generall rules of warre.]\n\nThe same that helpeth the enemie, hurteth thee: and the same that\nhelpeth thee, hurteth the enemie.\n\nHe that shall be in the warre moste vigilant to observe the devises of\nthe enemie, and shall take moste payne to exercise his armie, shall\nincurre least perilles and maie hope moste of the victorie.\n\nNever conducte thy men to faight the field, if first them hast not\nconfirmed their mindes and knowest them to be without feare, and to be\nin good order: for thou oughteste never to enterprise any dangerous\nthyng with thy souldiours, but when thou seest, that they hope to\novercome.\n\nIt is better to conquere the enemie with faminne, then with yron: in the\nvictorie of which, fortune maie doe much more then valiantnesse.\n\nNo purpose is better then that, whiche is hidde from the enemie untill\nthou have executed it.\n\nTo know in the warre how to understande occasion, and to take it,\nhelpeth more then anie other thynge.\n\nNature breedeth few stronge menne, the industrie and the exercise maketh\nmanie.\n\nDiscipline maie doe more in warre, then furie.\n\nWhen anie departe from the enemies side for to come to serve thee, when\nthei be faithfull, thei shalbe unto thee alwaies great gaines: for that\nthe power of thadversaries are more deminisshed with the losse of them,\nthat runne awaie, then of those that be slaine, although that the name\nof a fugetive be to new frendes suspected, to olde odius.\n\nBetter it is in pitchyng the fielde, to reserve behynde the first front\naide inoughe, then to make the fronte bigger to disperse the souldiours.\n\nHe is difficultely overcome, whiche can know his owne power and the same\nof the enemie.\n\nThe valiantenesse of the souldiours availeth more then the multitude.\n\nSome times the situacion helpeth more then the valiantenesse.\n\nNew and sudden thynges, make armies afrayde.\n\nSlowe and accustomed thinges, be littell regarded of them. Therfore make\nthy armie to practise and to know with small faightes a new enemie,\nbefore thou come to faight the fielde with him.\n\nHe that with disorder foloweth the enemie after that he is broken, will\ndoe no other, then to become of a conquerour a loser.\n\nHe that prepareth not necessarie victualles to live upon, is overcome\nwithout yron.\n\nHe that trusteth more in horsemen then in footemen, more in footemen\nthen in horsemen, must accommodate him selfe with the situacion.\n\nWhen thou wilte see if in the daie there be comen anie spie into the\nCampe, cause everie man to goe to his lodgynge.\n\nChaunge purpose, when thou perceivest that the enemie hath forseene it.\n\n[Sidenote: How to consulte.]\n\nConsulte with many of those thinges, which thou oughtest to dooe: the\nsame that thou wilt after dooe, conferre with fewe.\n\nSouldiours when thei abide at home, are mainteined with feare and\npunishemente, after when thei ar led to the warre with hope and with\nrewarde.\n\nGood Capitaines come never to faight the fielde, excepte necessitie\nconstraine theim, and occasion call them.\n\nCause that thenemies know not, how thou wilte order thy armie to faight,\nand in what so ever maner that thou ordainest it, make that the firste\nbande may be received of the seconde and of the thirde.\n\nIn the faight never occupie a battell to any other thyng, then to the\nsame, for whiche thou haste apoineted it, if thou wilt make no disorder.\n\nThe sodene accidentes, with difficultie are reamedied: those that are\nthought upon, with facilitie.\n\n[Sidenote: What thynges are the strength of the warre.]\n\nMen, yron, money, and bread, be the strengthe of the warre, but of these\nfower, the first twoo be moste necessarie: because men and yron, finde\nmoney and breade: but breade and money fynde not men and yron.\n\nThe unarmed riche man, is a bootie to the poore souldiour.\n\nAccustome thy souldiours to dispise delicate livyng and lacivius\naparell.\n\nThis is as muche as hapneth me generally to remember you, and I know\nthat there might have ben saied manie other thynges in all this my\nreasonynge: as should be, howe and in howe manie kinde of waies the\nantiquitie ordered their bandes, how thei appareled them, and how in\nmanie other thynges they exercised them, and to have joygned hereunto\nmanie other particulars, the whiche I have not judged necessarie to\nshew, as wel for that you your self may se them, as also for that my\nintente hath not been to shew juste how the olde servis of warre was\napoincted, but howe in these daies a servis of warre might be ordained,\nwhiche should have more vertue then the same that is used. Wherfore I\nhave not thought good of the auncient thynges to reason other, then\nthat, which I have judged to suche introduction necessarie. I know also\nthat I might have delated more upon the service on horsebacke, and after\nhave reasoned of the warre on the Sea: for as muche as he that\ndestinguissheth the servis of warre, saieth, how there is an armie on\nthe sea, and of the lande, on foote, and on horsebacke. Of that on the\nsea, I will not presume to speake, for that I have no knowledge therof:\nbut I will let the Genoues, and the Venecians speake therof, whome with\nlike studies have heretofore doen great thinges.\n\nAlso of horses, I wil speake no other, then as afore I have saied, this\nparte beynge (as I have declared) least corrupted. Besides this, the\nfootemen being wel ordained, which is the puissance of the armie, good\nhorses of necessitie will come to be made.\n\n[Sidenote: Provisions that maie bee made to fill a Realme full of good\nhorse; The knowledge that a capitaine oughte to have.]\n\nOnely I counsel him that would ordayne the exercise of armes in his owne\ncountrey, and desireth to fill the same with good horses, that he make\ntwo provisions: the one is, that he destribute Mares of a good race\nthroughe his dominion, and accustome his menne to make choise of coltes,\nas you in this countrie make of Calves and Mules: the other is, that to\nthentente the excepted might finde a byer, I woulde prohibet that no man\nshould kepe a Mule excepte he woulde keepe a horse: so that he that\nwoulde kepe but one beaste to ride on, shoulde be constrained to keepe a\nhorse: and moreover that no man should weare fine cloathe except he\nwhich doeth keepe a horse: this order I under stande hath beene devised\nof certaine princes in our time, whome in short space have therby,\nbrought into their countrey an excellente numbre of good horses. Aboute\nthe other thynges, as much as might be looked for concernynge horse, I\nremit to as much as I have saied to daie, and to that whiche they use.\nPeradventure also you woulde desire to understand what condicions a\nCapitaine ought to have: wherof I shal satisfie you moste breeflie: for\nthat I cannot tell how to chose anie other man then the same, who\nshoulde know howe to doe all those thynges whiche this daie hath ben\nreasoned of by us: the which also should not suffise, when he should not\nknowe howe to devise of him selfe: for that no man without invencion,\nwas ever excellent in anie science: and if invencion causeth honour in\nother thynges, in this above all, it maketh a man honorable: for everie\ninvention is seen, although it were but simple, to be of writers\ncelebrated: as it is seen, where Alexander Magnus is praised, who for to\nremove his Campe moste secretely, gave not warnyng with the Trumpette,\nbut with a hatte upon a Launce. And was praised also for havyng taken\norder that his souldiours in buckelynge with the enemies, shoulde kneele\nwith the lefte legge, to bee able more strongly to withstande their\nviolence: the whiche havyng geven him the victorie, it got him also so\nmuche praise, that all the Images, whiche were erected in his honour,\nstoode after the same facion. But because it is tyme to finishe this\nreasonyng, I wil turne againe to my first purpose, and partly I shall\navoide the same reproche, wherin they use to condempne in this towne,\nsuch as knoweth not when to make an ende.\n\n[Sidenote: The auctor retorneth to his first purpose and maketh a littel\ndiscorse to make an ende of his reasonyng.]\n\nIf you remembre Cosimus you tolde me, that I beyng of one side an\nexalter of the antiquitie, and a dispraiser of those, which in waightie\nmatters imitated them not, and of the other side, I havynge not in the\naffaires of war, wherin I have taken paine, imitated them, you coulde\nnot perceive the occasion: wherunto I answered, how that men which wil\ndoo any thing, muste firste prepare to knowe how to doe it, for to be\nable, after to use it, when occasion permitteth: whether I doe know how\nto bryng the servis of warre to the auncient manners or no, I will be\njudged by you, whiche have hearde me upon this matter longe dispute\nwherby you may know, how much time I have consumed in these studies: and\nalso I beleeve that you maie imagen, how much desire is in me to brynge\nit to effecte: the whiche whether I have been able to have doen, or that\never occasion hath been geven me, most easely you maie conjecture: yet\nfor to make you more certaine and for my better justificacion, I will\nalso aledge the occasions: and as much as I have promised, I will\npartely performe, to shew you the difficultie and the facelitie, whiche\nbee at this presente in suche imitacions.\n\n[Sidenote: A prince may easelie brynge to intiere perfection the servis\nof warre; Two sortes of Capitaines worthie to bee praysed.]\n\nTherfore I saie, how that no deede that is doen now a daies emong men,\nis more easie to be reduced unto the aunciente maners, then the service\nof Warre: but by them onely that be Princes of so moche state, who can\nat least gather together of their owne subjectes, xv. or twentie\nthousande yong menne: otherwise, no thyng is more difficulte, then this,\nto them whiche have not soche commoditie: and for that you maie the\nbetter understande this parte, you have to knowe, howe that there bee of\ntwoo condicions, Capitaines to bee praised: The one are those, that with\nan armie ordained through the naturalle discipline thereof, have dooen\ngreate thynges: as were the greater parte of the Romaine Citezeins, and\nsuche as have ledde armies, the which have had no other paine, then to\nmaintaine them good, and to se them guided safely: the other are they,\nwhiche not onely have had to overcome the enemie, but before they come\nto the same, have been constrained to make good and well ordered their\narmie: who without doubte deserve muche more praise, then those have\ndeserved, which with olde armies, and good, have valiantely wrought. Of\nthese, such wer Pelopida, and Epaminonda, Tullus Hostillius, Phillip of\nMacedony father of Alexander, Cirus kyng of the Percians, Graccus a\nRomaine: they all were driven first to make their armies good, and after\nto faighte with them: they all coulde doe it, as well throughe their\nprudence, as also for havynge subjectes whome thei might in like\nexercises instruct: nor it shuld never have ben otherwise possible, that\nanie of theim, though they had ben never so good and ful of al\nexcellencie, should have been able in a straunge countrey, full of men\ncorrupted, not used to anie honest obedience, to have brought to passe\nanie laudable worke. It suffiseth not then in Italie, to know how to\ngoverne an army made, but first it is necessarie to know how to make it\nand after to know how to commaunde it: and to do these things it is\nrequisit they bee those princes, whome havyng much dominion, and\nsubjectes inoughe, maie have commoditie to doe it: of whiche I can not\nbee, who never commaunded, nor cannot commaunde, but to armies of\nstraungers, and to men bounde to other, and not to me: in whiche if it\nbe possible, or no, to introduce anie of those thynges that this daie of\nme hath ben reasoned, I will leave it to your judgement.\n\nAlbeit when coulde I make one of these souldiours which now a daies\npractise, to weare more armur then the ordinarie, and besides the armur,\nto beare their owne meate for two or three daies, with a mattocke: When\ncoulde I make theim to digge, or keepe theim every daie manie howers\narmed, in fained exercises, for to bee able after in the verie thyng in\ndeede to prevaile? When woulde thei abstaine from plaie, from\nlaciviousnesse, from swearynge, from the insolence, whiche everie daie\nthey committe? when would they be reduced into so muche dissepline, into\nso much obedience and reverence, that a tree full of appels in the\nmiddest of their Campe, shoulde be founde there and lefte untouched? As\nis redde, that in the auncient armies manie times hapned. What thynge\nmaye I promis them, by meane wherof thei may have me in reverence to\nlove, or to feare, when the warre beyng ended, they have not anie more\nto doe with me? wher of maie I make them ashamed, whiche be borne and\nbrought up without shame? whie shoulde thei be ruled by me who knowe me\nnot? By what God or by what sainctes may I make them to sweare? By those\nthat thei worship, or by those that they blaspheme? Who they worship I\nknowe not anie: but I knowe well they blaspheme all. How shoulde I\nbeleeve that thei will keepe their promise to them, whome everie hower\nthey dispise? How can they, that dispise God, reverence men? Then what\ngood fashion shoulde that be, whiche might be impressed in this matter?\nAnd if you should aledge unto me that Suyzzers and Spaniardes bee good\nsouldiours, I woulde confesse unto you, how they be farre better then\nthe Italians: but if you note my reasonynge, and the maner of procedyng\nof bothe, you shall see, howe they lacke many thynges to joygne to the\nperfection of the antiquetie. And how the Suyzzers be made good of one\nof their naturall uses caused of that, whiche to daie I tolde you: those\nother are made good by mean of a necessitie: for that servyng in a\nstraunge countrie, and seemyng unto them to be constrained either to\ndie, or to overcome, thei perceivynge to have no place to flie, doe\nbecome good: but it is a goodnesse in manie partes fawtie: for that in\nthe same there is no other good, but that they bee accustomed to tarie\nthe enemie at the Pike and sweardes poincte: nor that, which thei lacke,\nno man should be meete to teache them, and so much the lesse, he that\ncoulde not speake their language.\n\n[Sidenote: The Auctor excuseth the people of Italie to the great\nreproche of their prynces for their ignorance in the affaires of warre.]\n\nBut let us turne to the Italians, who for havynge not had wise Princes,\nhave not taken anie good order: and for havyng not had the same\nnecessitie, whiche the Spaniardes have hadde, they have not taken it of\ntheim selves, so that they remaine the shame of the worlde: and the\npeople be not to blame, but onely their princes, who have ben chastised,\nand for their ignorance have ben justely punisshed, leesinge moste\nshamefully their states, without shewing anie vertuous ensample. And if\nyou will see whether this that I say be trew: consider how manie warres\nhave ben in Italie since the departure of kyng Charles to this day,\nwhere the war beyng wonte to make men warlyke and of reputacion, these\nthe greater and fierser that they have been, so muche the more they have\nmade the reputacion of the members and of the headdes therof to bee\nloste. This proveth that it groweth, that the accustomed orders were not\nnor bee not good, and of the newe orders, there is not anie whiche have\nknowen how to take them. Nor never beleeve that reputacion will be\ngotten, by the Italians weapons, but by the same waie that I have\nshewed, and by means of theim, that have great states in Italie: for\nthat this forme maie be impressed in simple rude men, of their owne, and\nnot in malicious, ill brought up, and straungers. Nor there shall never\nbee founde anie good mason, whiche will beleeve to be able to make a\nfaire image of a peece of Marbell ill hewed, but verye well of a rude\npeece.\n\n[Sidenote: A discription of the folishenesse of the Italian princes;\nCesar and Alexander, were the formoste in battell; The Venecians and the\nduke of Ferare began to have reduced the warfare to the Aunciente\nmaners; He that despiseth the servis of warre, despiseth his own\nwelthe.]\n\nOur Italian Princes beleved, before thei tasted the blowes of the\noutlandishe warre, that it should suffice a Prince to knowe by\nwritynges, how to make a subtell answere, to write a goodly letter, to\nshewe in saiynges, and in woordes, witte and promptenesse, to knowe how\nto canvas a fraude, to decke theim selves with precious stones and gold,\nto slepe and to eate with greater glorie then other: To keepe many\nlascivious persones aboute them, to governe theim selves with their\nsubjectes, covetuously and proudely: To rotte in idlenesse, to give the\ndegrees of the exercise of warre, for good will, to despise if any\nshould have shewed them any laudable waie, minding that their wordes\nshould bee aunswers of oracles: nor the sely wretches were not aware,\nthat thei prepared theim selves to bee a praie, to whom so ever should\nassaulte theim. Hereby grewe then in the thousande fower hundred nintie\nand fower yere, the greate feares, the sodain flightes, and the\nmarveilous losses: and so three most mightie states which were in\nItalie, have been divers times sacked and destroied. But that which is\nworse, is where those that remaine, continue in the verie same erroure,\nand live in the verie same disorder, and consider not, that those, who\nin old time would kepe their states, caused to be dooen these thynges,\nwhich of me hath been reasoned, and that their studies wer, to prepare\nthe body to diseases, and the minde not to feare perilles. Whereby grewe\nthat Cesar, Alexander, and all those menne and excellente Princes in old\ntyme, were the formoste emongest the faighters, goyng armed on foote:\nand if thei loste their state, thei would loose their life, so that thei\nlived and died vertuously. And if in theim, or in parte of theim, there\nmight bee condempned to muche ambicion to reason of: yet there shall\nnever bee founde, that in theim is condempned any tendernesse or any\nthynge that maketh menne delicate and feable: the whiche thyng, if of\nthese Princes were redde and beleved, it should be impossible, that thei\nshould not change their forme of living, and their provinces not to\nchaunge fortune. And for that you in the beginnyng of this our\nreasonyng, lamented your ordinaunces, I saie unto you, that if you had\nordained it, as I afore have reasoned, and it had given of it self no\ngood experience, you might with reason have been greved therewith: but\nif it bee not so ordained, and exercised, as I have saied, it maie be\ngreeved with you, who have made a counterfaite thereof, and no perfecte\nfigure. The Venecians also, and the Duke of Ferare, beganne it, and\nfollowed it not, the whiche hath been through their faulte, not through\ntheir menne. And therfore I assure you, that who so ever of those,\nwhiche at this daie have states in Italie, shall enter firste into this\nwaie, shall be firste, before any other, Lorde of this Province, and it\nshall happen to his state, as to the kyngdome of the Macedonians, the\nwhich commyng under Philip, who had learned the maner of settyng armies\nin order of Epaminondas a Thebane, became with this order, and with\nthese exercises (whileste the reste of Grece stoode in idlenesse, and\nattended to risite comedes) so puisant, that he was able in few yeres to\npossesse it all, and to leave soche foundacion to his sonne, that he was\nable to make hymself, prince of all the world. He then that despiseth\nthese studies, if he be a Prince, despiseth his Princedome: if he bee a\nCitezein, his Citee. Wherefore, I lamente me of nature, the whiche\neither ought not to have made me a knower of this, or it ought to have\ngiven me power, to have been able to have executed it: For now beyng\nolde, I cannot hope to have any occasion, to bee able so to dooe: In\nconsideracion whereof, I have been liberall with you, who beeyng grave\nyong menne, maie (when the thynges saied of me shall please you) at due\ntymes in favour of your Princes, helpe theim and counsaile them, wherein\nI would have you not to bee afraied, or mistrustfull, bicause this\nProvince seemes to bee altogether given, to raise up againe the thynges\ndedde, as is seen by the perfeccion that poesie, paintyng, and writing,\nis now brought unto: Albeit, as moche as is looked for of me, beyng\nstrooken in yeres, I do mistruste. Where surely, if Fortune had\nheretofore graunted me so moche state, as suffiseth for a like\nenterprise, I would not have doubted, but in moste shorte tyme, to have\nshewed to the worlde, how moche the aunciente orders availe: and without\nperadventure, either I would have increased it with glory, or loste it\nwithout shame.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe ende of the seventh and laste booke of the arte of warre, of\nNicholas Machiavell, Citezein and Secretarie of Florence, translated out\nof Italian into Englishe: By Peter Whitehorne, felow of Graise Inne.\n\n\n\n\nNICHOLAS MACHIAVEL,\n\nCITEZEIN AND SECRETARIE OF FLORENCE,\n\nTO THE READERS\n\n\nTo thentente that such as rede this booke maie without difficultie\nunderstande the order of the battailes, or bandes of men, and of the\narmies, and lodgynges in the Campe, accordynge as they in the\ndiscription of theim are apoincted, I thinke it necessarie to shewe you\nthe figure of everie one of them: wherefore it is requiset firste, to\ndeclare unto you, by what poinctes and letters, the footemen, the\nhorsemen, and everie other particuler membre are set foorthe.\n\nKNOW THERFORE THAT\n\n.} Signifieth {Targetmen.\n\n'} {Pikemen.\n\nc} {a Capitaine of ten men.\n\nv} {Veliti ordinarie.  (Those men that shoot with harcabuses or bowes)\n\nr} {Veliti extraordinari.\n\nC} {a Centurion or captaine of a hundred men.\n\nk} {a Constable or a captaine of a band of fower hundred and fiftie men.\n\nH} {The hed captain of a maine battel.\n\nG} {The general Captaine of the whole armie.\n\nt} {The Trompet.\n\nd} {The Drum.\n\nb} {The Ansigne.\n\ns} {The Standerde.\n\nm} {Men of Armes.\n\nl} {Light horsemen.\n\nA} {Artillerie or ordinance.\n\nIn the first figure nexte folowyng, is discribed the forme of an\nordinarie battaile or bande of fower hundred and fiftie men, and in what\nmaner it is redoubled by flanke. And also how with the verie same order\nof lxxx. rankes, by chaungyng onely to the hinder parte the five rankes\nof Pikes which were the formost of everie Centurie, thei maye likewise\nin bringyng them in battaile raie, come to bee placed behinde: whiche\nmay be doen, when in marchyng, the enemies should come to assaulte them\nat their backes: accordynge as the orderyng therof is before declared.\nFol. 87.\n\nIn the seconde figure, is shewed how a battaile or bande of men is\nordered, whiche in marchyng should be driven to faight on the flanke:\naccordyng as in the booke is declared. Fol. 87.\n\nIn the thirde figure, is shewed how a battaile or bande of men, is\nordered with two hornes, fol. 88, and after is shewed how the same maie\nbe made with a voide place in the middest: accordynge as the orderyng\ntherof, in the booke moste plainely is declared, fol. 89.\n\nIn the fowerth figure, is shewed the forme or facion of an armie\napoincted to faight the battaile with the enemies: and for the better\nunderstandynge thereof, the verie same is plainlier set foorthe in the\nfigure next unto it, wherby the other two figures next folowyng maie the\neasier be understoode: accordynge as in the booke is expressed. Fol.\n105.\n\nIn the fifte figure, is shewed the forme of a fower square armie: as in\nthe booke is discribed. Fol. 152.\n\nIn the sixte figure, is shewed howe an Armie is brought from a fower\nsquare facion, to the ordinarie forme, to faight a fielde: accordyng as\nafore is declared. Fol. 156.\n\nIn the seventh figure, is discribed the maner of incamping: according as\nthe same in the booke is declared. Fol. 174.\n\n\nTHE FIRSTE FIGURE\n\nThis is the maner of ordering of CCCC. men, into lxxx. rankes, five to a\nranke, to bring them into a iiii square battaile with the Pikes on the\nfront, as after foloweth.\n\n  C\nc''''\nc''''\nc''''\nc''''\nc''''\nc....\nc....\nc....\nc....\nc....\nc....\nc....\nc....\nc....\nc....\nc....\nc....\nc....\nc....\nc....\n  C\n'''''\n'''''\n'''''\n'''''\n'''''\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n  C\n'''''\n'''''\n'''''\n'''''\n'''''\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n  C\n''''c\n''''c\n''''c\n''''c\n''''c\n....c\n....c\n....c\n....c\n....c\n....c\n....c\n....c\n....c\n....c\n....c\n....c\n....c\n....c\n....c\n\n\nThis is the foresaied lxxx. rankes of iiii. C. men brought into a fower\nsquare battaile with the Pikes on the fronte. And the fiftie Veliti on\nthe sides and on the backe.\n\n\nC                    C\nvc''''''''''''''''''cv\nvc''''''''''''''''''cv\nvc''''''''''''''''''cv\nvc''''''''''''''''''cv\nvc''''''''''''''''''cv\nvc........dkb.......cv\nvc..................cv\nvc..................cv\nvc..................cv\nvc..................cv\nvc..................cv\nvc..................cv\nvc..................cv\nvc..................cv\nvc..................cv\nvc..................cv\nvc..................cv\nvc..................cv\nvc..................cv\nvc..................cv\nC v v v v v v v v v v C\n\n\nTHE SECONDE FIGURE\n\nThis is the maner of ordering of CCCC. men, into lxxx. rankes, five to a\nranke, to bring them into a iiii square battaile with the Pikes on the\nside, as after foloweth.\n\n\n  C\nccccc\n'''''\n'''''\n'''''\n'''''\n'''''\n'''''\n'''''\n'''''\n'''''\n'''''\n'''''\n'''''\n'''''\n'''''\n'''''\n'''''\n'''''\n'''''\nccccc\n  C\nccccc\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\nccccc\n  C\nccccc\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\nccccc\n  C\nccccc\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\n.....\nccccc\n\n\nThis is the foresaied lxxx. rankes of iiii. C. men brought into a fower\nsquare battaile with the Pikes on the side.\n\n\nCvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvC\n cccccccccccccccccccc\nv...............'''''\n ...............'''''\nv...............'''''\n ...............'''''\nv...............'''''\n ...............'''''\nv...............'''''\n ...............'''''\nv...............'''''\n ...............'''''\nv...............'''''\n ...............'''''\nv...............'''''\n ...............'''''\nv...............'''''\n ...............'''''\nv...............'''''\n ...............'''''\nv...............'''''\n cccccccccccccccccccc\nCvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvC\n\n\nTHE THYRDE FIGURE\n\nThese are the nombers of rankes appoincted to make the horned battaile\nof, and the square battaile with the voide space in the middest, as\nafter foloweth.\n\n\n''''''''''''''''''''''''' ...............\n''''''''''''''''''''''''' ...............\ncccccccccccccccccccc.....C...............C\n......................... ...............\n......................... ...............\n\n\n\n\n '''''''''''''''''''''''''\n '''''''''''''''''''''''''\nCcccccccccccccccccccc.....C\n .........................\n .........................\n ...............\n ...............\n ...............\n ...............\n ...............d\n ...............k\n ...............b\n ...............\n ...............\n ...............\n ...............\n .........................\n .........................\nCcccccccccccccccccccc.....C\n '''''''''''''''''''''''''\n '''''''''''''''''''''''''\n\n\n\n............... .........................\n............... .........................\n...............Ccccccccccccccccccccc.....C\n............... '''''''''''''''''''''''''\n............... '''''''''''''''''''''''''\n\n\n\n '''''''''''''''''''''''''\n '''''''''''''''''''''''''\nCcccccccccccccccccccc.....C\n .........................\n .........................\n .......          ........\n .......          ........\n .......          ........\n .......    d     ........\n .......    k     ........\n .......    b     ........\n .......          ........\n .......          ........\n .......          ........\n .......          ........\n .........................\n .........................\nCcccccccccccccccccccc.....C\n '''''''''''''''''''''''''\n '''''''''''''''''''''''''\n\n\nTHE FOURTH FIGURE\n\n\n     A           A     A     A     A     A\nllm mCrCCC    Cu,,uCCu,,uCCu,,uCCu,,uCCu,,uCA\nllm mrrr,,,   vu,,uvvu,,uvvu,,uvvu,,uvvu,,uvA\nllm mrrrdkb   vdk bvvdk bvvdk bvvdk bvvdk bv\nlltksdkb,,,   vc..uvvu..uvvu..uvvu..uvvu..uv   t G\nllm mrrr,,,   vc..uvvu..uvvu..uvvu..uvvu..uv   lll\nktm mrrr,,,   vc..uvvu..uvvu..uvvu..uvvu..uv  ....\nlsm mCr(,,,   Cu..uCCu..uCCu..uCCu..uCCu..uC\nllm m   ,,,\nllm m   ,,,               .....\nllm m   ,,,                dHb\nllm m   ,,,               .....\n,,,\n,,,\n,,,\n,,,   Cu..uC      Cu..uC      Cu..uC\n,,,   vu,,uv      vu,,uv      vu,,uv\n,,,   vdk bv      vdk bv      vdk bv\nCdkbC  vu..uv      vu..uv      vu..uv\n,,   vu..uv      vu..uv      vu..uv\n,,,   vu..uv      vu..uv      vu..uv\n,,,   Cu..uC      Cu..uC      Cu..uC\n,,,\n,,,\n,,,\n,,,\n,,,\n,,,\n,,,\n,,,   Cu,,uC                  Cu,,uC\n,,,   vu,,uv                  vu,,uv\n,,,   vdk bv                  vdk bv\n,,,   vu..uv                  vu..uv\ndkb   vu..uv                  vu..uv\n,,,   vu..uv                  vu..uv\nC C   Cu..uC                  Cu..uC\n\nThe cariages and the unarmed.\n\n\n  A     A     A     A     A     A\nA Cu,,uCCu,,uCCu,,uCCu,,uCCu,,uC   C CCrCm mll\nA vu,,uvvu,,uvvu,,uvvu,,uvvu,,uv   ,,,rrrm mll\nm vdk bvvdk bvvdk bvvdk bvvdk bv   dkbrrrm mll\ns vu..uvvu..uvvu..uvvu..uvvu..uv   ,,,dkbm mll\nllvu..uvvu..uvvu..uvvu..uvvu..uv   ,,,rrrtksll\n..vu.. vvu..uvvu..uvvu..uvvu..uv   ,,,rrrm mtk\nCu..uCCu..uC  ..uCCu..uCCu..uC   ,,,rrrm msl\n,,,   m mll\n,,,   m mll\ndHb           ,,,   m mll\n....          ,,,   m mll\n,,,\n,,,\n,,,\nCu,,uC      Cu,,uC      Cu,,uC   ,,,\nvu,,uv      uv,,uv      uv,,uv   ,,,\nvdk bv      vdk bv      vdk bv   ,,,\nvu..uv      vu..uv      vu..uv  CdkbC\nvu..uv      vu..uv      vu..uv   ,,,\nvu..uv      vu..uv      vu..uv   ,,,\nCu..uC      Cu..uC      Cu..uC   ,,,\n,,,\n,,,\n,,,\n,,,\n,,,\n,,,\n,,,\nCu,,uC                  Cu,,uC   ,,,\nvu,,uv                  uv,,uv   ,,,\nvdk bv                  vdk bv   ,,,\nvu..uv                  vu..uv   ,,,\nvu..uv                  vu..uv   dkb\nvu..uv                  vu..uv   ,,,\nCu..uC                  Cu..uC   C C\n\n\nTHE FIFT FIGURE\n\n\nA ) ,,,, C) ,,,, C) ,,,, C),,,,C),,,,))v) vCvC),,,,C) ,,,, C A\n  u ,,,, uu ,,,, uu ,,,, uu,,,,uu,,,,uvvvvvvvvu,,,,uu ,,,, u\n  u ,,,, uu  dkb uu  dkb uu dkbuu dkbuvvvvvvvvu dkbuu ,,,, u\n  u  dkb uu .... uu .... uu....uu....u)vv vvvCu....uu  dkb u  A\nA u ,,,, uu .... uu .... uu....uu....uvvvvvvvvu....uu ,,,, u\n  u ,,,, uu .... uu .... uu....uu....uvvvvvvvvu....uu ,,,, u A\n  ) ,,,, C) .... C) .... C)....C)....C)v) vCvC)....)) ,,,, C\nA ) uuuC                                            )  uuu C\n  ,,,,....                                          ....,,,, A\n  ,,,,....    ....                                  ....,,,,\n  ,,dkb...    dHb                                    ..dkb,,\nA ,,,,....    ....                                  ....,,,,\n  ,,,,....                                          ....,,,, A\n  ) n n nC                                          ) n n nC\nA ) u u uC                                          ) u u uC\n  ,,,,....                                          ....,,,,\n  ,,,,....                  ...III..                ....,,,, A\n  ,, dkb..                  .. mm ..                .. dkb,,\nA ,,,,....                  .. tGs..                ....,,,,\n  ,,,,....                  ........                ....,,,,\n  ) n n nC                                          ) n n nC A\n  ) u u uC               ),,,,C),,,,C               ) u u uC\nA ,,,,....               u,,,,uu,,,,u               ....,,,,\n  ,,,,....               u,,,,uu,,,,u               ....,,,, A\n  ,, dkb..               u dkbuu dkbu               .. dkb,,\n  ,,,,....               u,,,,uu,,,,u               ....,,,,\n  ,,,,....               u,,,,uu,,,,u               ....,,,,\nA ) n n nC               ),,,,C),,,,C               ) n n nC\n#/\n\n/#\nA ) u u uC                                          ) u u uC A\n  ,,,,....                                          ....,,,,\n  ,,,,....                                          ....,,,,\n  ,, dkb..                                          .. dkb,,\nA ,,,,....                                          ....,,,, A\n  ,,,,....                                          ....,,,,\n  ) n n nC                                          ) n n nC\n  ) u u uC                                          ) u u uC\nA ,,,,....                                          ....,,,, A\n  ,,,,....                                  ....    ....,,,,\n  ,, dkb..                                  d Hb    .. dkb,,\n  ,,,,....                                  ....    .. dkb,,\nA ,,,,....                                          ....,,,, A\n  ) n n nC                                          ) n n nC\n  ) ,,,, C)....C ) r) rC rC )....C)....C)....C)....C) ,,,, C\n  u ,,,, uu....urrrrrrrrrrrru....uu....uu....uu....uu ,,,, C\nA u ,,,, uu....urr dkb dkb ru....uu....uu....uu....uu ,,,, u A\n  u  dkb uu dkbu rrrrrrrrrrru dkbnu dkbuu dkbuu dkbuu  dkb u\n  u ,,,, uu,,,,urr dkb dkb ru,,,,uu,,,,uu,,,,uu,,,,uu ,,,, u\n  u ,,,, uu,,,,u rrrrrrrrrrru,,,,uu,,,,uu,,,,uu,,,,uu ,,,, u\nA ) ,,,, C),,,,C ) r) rC rC ),,,,u),,,,C),,,,C),,,,C) ,,,, C A\n\n  mmmm mmmm                                        mmmm mmmm\n  mmmm mmmm                                        mmmm mmmm\n  mmmm mmmm                                        mmmm mmmm\n  mmmtksmmm                                        mmmtksmmm\n  mmmm mmmm                                        mmmm mmmm\n  mmmm mmmm                                        mmmm mmmm\n  mmmm mmmm                                        mmmm mmmm\n\n\n\n      A      A      A       A     A\nmmmmmmmm CvC)u, ,uC)u, ,uC)u, ,uC)u,,uC)u,\nmmmmmmmm vvvru, ,urru, ,urru, ,urru,,urru,,\nmmmmmmmm vvvrudkburrudkburrd k brrdk brrudk\nmmmtksmmmvvvru. .urru. .urru. .urru..urru..\nmmmmmmmm vvvru. .ruur. .urru. .urru..urru..\nmmmmmmmm vvv)u. .uC)u. .uC)u. .uC)u..uCCu .\nmmmmmmmm vvv),,,,,C\n         dkbr,,,...r       ....        .lll\n         vvvr,dkb..r       dHb         . .m\n         vvvr,,,...r       ....        ...t\n         vvvr,,,...r                   ....\n         vvv),,,...C\n         vvv),,,...C\n         vvvr,,,...r      )u, ,uC      )u,,\n         )vCr,dkb .r      ru. ,ur      ru,,\n            r,,,...r      rudkbur      ru,d\n            r,,,...r      ru. .ur      ru..\n            r,,,...r      ru. .ur      ru..\n            ),,,...C      )u. .uC      )u.\n            ),,,...C\n            r,,,...r\n            r,dkb..r\n            r,,,...r\n            r,,,...r\n            ),,,...C\n            ),,,...C\n            r,,,...r      )u. .uC\n            r,dkb..r      ru, ,ur\n            r,,,...r      rudkbur\n            r,,,...r      ru. .ur\n            ),,, ..C      ru. .ur\n            ),,,...C      )u. .uC\n            r,,,...r      )u. .uC\n            r,,dkb.r\n            r,,,...r\n            r,,,...r\n            ),,, ..C\n            ),,,,,,C\n            r,,,,,,r\n            r, dkb,r\n            r,,,,,,r\n            r,,,,,,r\n            ),,,,,,C\n\n\n\n   A     A       A     A      A\n,uC)u, ,uC)u, ,uC)u, ,uC)u, ,uC)v) mmmmmmmm\n,urru, ,urru, ,urru, ,urru, ,urvvv mmmmmmmm\nb,rr,dkb,rr,dkb,rr,dkb,rr dkb rvvv mmmmmmmm\n.urru. .urru. .urru. .urru. .urvvvmmmtkfmmm\n.urru. .urru. .urru. .urru. .urvvv mmmmmmmm\n.uC)u. .uC)u. .uC)u. .uCCu. .u)vvv mmmmmmmm\n                        )...,,Cvvv mmmmmmmm\n.ll..       ....        r...,,,rdkb\n.m.         dHb         r.dkb, rvvv\nGs..        ....        r...,,,rvvv\n....                    r...,,,rvvv\n                        )... ,,Cvvv\n,uC       )u. .uC       )... ,,Cvvv\n,ur       ru, ,ur       r...,,,rvvv\nkb,r      r,dkb,r       r.dkb, rC )\n,ur       ru. .ur       r...,,,r\n,ur       ru. .ur       r...,,,r\n,uC       )u. .u)       )... ,,C\n                        )... ,,C\n                        r...,,,r\n                        r.dkb, r\n                        r...,,,r\n                        r...,,,r\n                        )...,,,C\n                        )...,,,C\n          )u, ,uC       r...,, r\n          ru, ,ur       r.dkb, r\n          r,dkb,r       r...,,,r\n          ru. .ur       r...,,,r\n          ru. .ur       )... ,,C\n          )u. .uC       )... ,,C\n                        r...,,,r\n                        r.dkb, r\n                        r...,,,r\n                        r...,,,r\n                        )... ,,C\n                        ),,, ,,C\n                        r,,,,,,r\n                        r,dkb, r\n                        r,,,,,,r\n                        r,,,,,,r\n                        ),,, ,,C\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nNICHOLAS MACHIAVEL'S\n\nPRINCE\n\nTRANSLATED\nOUT OF ITALIAN INTO ENGLISH BY\n\nE.D.\n\nWITH SOME ANIMADVERSIONS\nNOTING AND TAXING\nHIS ERRORS\n\n1640\n\n\n\nTO THE MOST\nNOBLE AND ILLUSTRIOUS,\nJAMES Duke of Lenox, Earle of March, Baron of Setrington, Darnly,\nTerbanten, and Methuen, Lord Great Chamberlain and Admiral of Scotland,\nKnight of the most Noble Order of the Garter, and one of his Majesties\nmost honourable Privy Counsel in both kingdomes.\n\nPoysons are not all of that malignant and noxious quality, that as\ndestructives of Nature, they are utterly to be abhord; but we find many,\nnay most of them have their medicinal uses. This book carries its poyson\nand malice in it; yet mee thinks the judicious peruser may honestly make\nuse of it in the actions of his life, with advantage. The Lamprey, they\nsay, hath a venemous string runs all along the back of it; take that\nout, and it is serv'd in for a choyce dish to dainty palates; Epictetus\nthe Philosopher, sayes, Every thing hath two handles, as the fire brand,\nit may be taken up at one end in the bare hand without hurt: the other\nbeing laid hold on, will cleave to the very flesh, and the smart of it\nwill pierce even to the heart. Sin hath the condition of the fiery end;\nthe touch of it is wounding with griefe unto the soule: nay it is worse;\none sin goes not alone but hath many consequences. Your Grace may find\nthe truth of this in your perusal of this Author: your judgement shall\neasily direct you in finding out the good uses of him: I have pointed at\nhis chiefest errors with my best endeavors, and have devoted them to\nyour Graces service: which if you shall accept and protect, I shall\nremain\n\nYour Graces humble and devoted servant,\n\nEDWARD DACRES.\n\n\n\n\nTHE EPISTLE TO THE READER.\n\n\nQuestionless some men will blame me for making this Author speak in our\nvulgar tongue. For his Maximes and Tenents are condemnd of all, as\npernicious to all Christian States, and hurtfull to all humane\nSocieties. Herein I shall answer for my self with the Comoedian,\n_Placere studeo bonis quam plurimis, et minime multos laedere_: I\nendeavor to give content to the most I can of those that are well\ndisposed, and no scandal to any. I grant, I find him blamed and\ncondemned: I do no less my self. Reader, either do thou read him without\na prejudicate opinion, and out of thy own judgement taxe his errors; or\nat least, if thou canst stoop so low, make use of my pains to help thee;\nI will promise thee this reward for thy labor: if thou consider well the\nactions of the world, thou shalt find him much practised by those that\ncondemn him; who willingly would walk as theeves do with close lanternes\nin the night, that they being undescried, and yet seeing all, might\nsurprise the unwary in the dark. Surely this book will infect no man:\nout of the wicked treasure of a mans own wicked heart, he drawes his\nmalice and mischief. From the same flower the Bee sucks honey, from\nwhence the Spider hath his poyson. And he that means well, shall be here\nwarnd, where the deceitfull man learnes to set his snares. A judge who\nhath often used to examine theeves, becomes the more expert to sift out\ntheir tricks. If mischief come hereupon, blame not me, nor blame my\nAuthor: lay the saddle on the right horse: but _Hony soit qui mal y\npense_: let shame light on him that hatcht the mischief.\n\n\n\n\nTHE PRINCE\n\nNICHOLAS MACHIAVELLI,\n\nto the Magnificent LAURENCE sonne\nto PETER OF MEDICIS health.\n\n\nThey that desire to ingratiate themselves with a Prince, commonly use to\noffer themselves to his view, with things of that nature as such persons\ntake most pleasure and delight in: whereupon we see they are many times\npresented with Horses and Armes, cloth of gold, pretious stones, and\nsuch like ornaments, worthy of their greatness. Having then a mind to\noffer up my self to your Magnificence, with some testimony of my service\nto you, I found nothing in my whole inventory, that I think better of,\nor more esteeme, than the knowlege of great mens actions, which I have\nlearned by a long experience of modern affairs, and a continual reading\nof those of the ancients. Which, now that I have with great diligence\nlong workt it out, and throughly sifted, I commend to your Magnificence.\nAnd, however I may well think this work unworthy of your view; yet such\nis your humanity, that I doubt not but it shall find acceptance,\nconsidering, that for my part I am not able to tender a greater gift,\nthan to present you with the means, whereby in a very short time you may\nbe able to understand all that, which I, in the space of many years, and\nwith many sufferances and dangers, have made proof and gaind the\nknowledge of. And this work I have not set forth either with elegancy of\ndiscourse or stile, nor with any other ornament whereby to captivate the\nreader, as others use, because I would not have it gain its esteem from\nelsewhere than from the truth of the matter, and the gravity of the\nsubject. Nor can this be thought presumption, if a man of humble and low\ncondition venture to dilate and discourse upon the governments of\nPrinces; for even as they that with their pensils designe out countreys,\nget themselves into the plains below to consider the nature of the\nmountains, and other high places above; and again to consider the plains\nbelow, they get up to the tops of the mountains; in like manner to\nunderstand the nature of the people, it is fit to be a Prince; and to\nknow well the dispositions of Princes, sutes best with the understanding\nof a subject. Your Magnificence then may be pleased, to receive this\nsmall present, with the same mind that I send it; which if you shall\nthroughly peruse and consider, you shall perceive therein that I\nexceedingly wish, that you may attain to that greatness, which your own\nfortune, and your excellent endowments promise you: and if your\nMagnificence from the very point of your Highness shall sometime cast\nyour eyes upon these inferior places, you shall see how undeservedly I\nundergoe an extream and continual despight of Fortune.\n\n\n\n\nTHE TABLE OF THE CHAPTERS\n\nCHAP. 1.\n\nHow many sorts of Principalities there are, and how many wayes they are\nattained to, 263\n\nCHAP. 2.\n\nOf hereditary Principalities, 264\n\nCHAP. 3.\n\nOf mixt Principalities, 265\n\nCHAP. 4.\n\nWherefore Darius his Kingdome, taken by Alexander, rebelled not against\nhis successors after Alexanders death, 273\n\nCHAP. 5.\n\nIn what manner Cities and Principalities are to be governed, which\nbefore they were conquered, lived under their own laws, 276\n\nCHAP. 6.\n\nOf new Principalities that are conquered by ones own armes and valor,\n277\n\nCHAP. 7.\n\nOf new Principalities gotten by fortune and other mens forces, 281\n\nCHAP. 8.\n\nConcerning those who by wicked means have attaind to a Principality, 289\n\nCHAP. 9.\n\nOf the Civil Principality, 293\n\nCHAP. 10.\n\nIn what manner the forces of all Principalities ought to be measured,\n297\n\nCHAP. 11.\n\nConcerning Ecclesiastical Principalities, 299\n\nCHAP. 12.\n\nHow many sorts of Military discipline there be; and touching mercenary\nsoldiers, 302\n\nCHAP. 13.\n\nOf Auxiliary Soldiers, mixt and natives, 307\n\nCHAP. 14.\n\nWhat belongs to the Prince touching military discipline, 310\n\nCHAP. 15.\n\nOf those things in respect whereof men, and especially Princes are\nprais'd or disprais'd, 313\n\nCHAP. 16.\n\nOf Liberality and Miserableness, 315\n\nCHAP. 17.\n\nOf Cruelty and Clemency, and whether it is better to be belov'd or\nfeared, 318\n\nCHAP. 18.\n\nIn what manner Princes ought to keep their word, 321\n\nCHAP. 19.\n\nThat Princes should take a care not to incur contempt or hatred, 325\n\nCHAP. 20.\n\nWhether the Citadels and many other things, which Princes make use of,\nare profitable or dammageable, 335\n\nCHAP. 21.\n\nHow a Prince ought to behave himself to gain reputation, 339\n\nCHAP. 22.\n\nTouching Princes Secretaries, 343\n\nCHAP. 23.\n\nThat Flatterers are to be avoyded, 344\n\nCHAP. 24.\n\nWherefore the Princes of Italy have lost their States, 347\n\nCHAP. 25.\n\nHow great power Fortune hath in humane affairs, and what means there is\nto resist it, 349\n\nCHAP. 26.\n\nAn exhortation to free Italy from the Barbarions, 353\n\n\n\n\nTHE PRINCE\n\nWritten by\n\nNICHOLAS MACHIAVELLI,\nSecretary and Citizen of Florence.\n\n\nCHAP. I\n\nHow many sorts of Principalities there are, and how many wayes they are\nattained to.\n\n\nAll States, all Dominions that have had, or now have rule over men, have\nbeen and are, either Republiques or Principalities. Principalities are\neither hereditary, whereof they of the blood of the Lord thereof have\nlong time been Princes; or else they are new; and those that are new,\nare either all new, as was the Dutchy of Millan to Francis Sforce; or\nare as members adjoyned to the hereditary State of the Prince that gains\nit; as the Kingdom of Naples is to the King of Spain. These Dominions so\ngotten, are accustomed either to live under a Prince, or to enjoy their\nliberty; and are made conquest of, either with others forces, or ones\nown, either by fortune, or by valor.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. II\n\nOf Hereditary Principalities.\n\n\nI will not here discourse of Republiques, because I have other where\ntreated of them at large: I will apply my self only to a Principality,\nand proceed, while I weave this web, by arguing thereupon, how these\nPrincipallities can be governed and maintained. I say then that in\nStates of inheritance, and accustomed to the blood of their Princes,\nthere are far fewer difficulties to keep them, than in the new: for it\nsuffices only not to transgress the course his Ancestors took, and so\nafterward to temporise with those accidents that can happen; that if\nsuch a Prince be but of ordinary industry, he shall allwaies be able to\nmaintain himself in his State, unless by some extraordinary or excessive\npower he be deprived thereof; and when he had lost it, upon the least\nsinister chance that befalls the usurper, he recovers it again. We have\nin Italy the Duke of Ferrara for example hereof, who was of ability to\nresist the Venetians, in the year 84, and to withstand Pope Julius in\nthe tenth for no other reason, than because he had of old continued in\nthat rule; for the natural Prince hath fewer occasions, and less heed to\ngive offence, whereupon of necessity he must be more beloved; and unless\nit be that some extravagant vices of his bring him into hatred, it is\nagreeable to reason, that naturally he should be well beloved by his own\nsubjects: and in the antiquity and continuation of the Dominion, the\nremembrances and occasions of innovations are quite extinguished: for\nevermore one change leaves a kind of breach or dent, to fasten the\nbuilding of another.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. III\n\nOf mixt Principalities.\n\n\nBut the difficulties consist in the new Principality; and first, if it\nbe not all new, but as a member, so that it may be termed altogether as\nmixt; and the variations thereof proceed in the first place from a\nnatural difficulty, which we commonly finde in all new Principalities;\nfor men do willingly change their Lord, beleeving to better their\ncondition; and this beliefe causes them to take armes against him that\nrules over them, whereby they deceive themselves, because they find\nafter by experience, they have made it worse: which depends upon another\nnatural and ordinary necessity, forcing him alwaies to offend those,\nwhose Prince he newly becomes, as well by his soldiers he is put to\nentertain upon them as by many other injuries, which a new conquest\ndraws along with it; in such manner as thou findest all those thine\nenemies, whom thou hast endammaged in the seizing of that Principality,\nand afterwards canst not keep them thy friends that have seated thee in\nit, for not being able to satisfie them according to their expectations,\nnor put in practice strong remedies against them, being obliged to them.\nFor however one be very well provided with strong armies, yet hath he\nalwaies need of the favor of the inhabitants in the Countrey, to enter\nthereinto. For these reasons, Lewis the twelfth, King of France,\nsuddenly took Milan, and as soon lost it; and the first time Lodwick his\nown forces served well enough to wrest it out of his hands; for those\npeople that had opened him the gates, finding themselves deceived of\ntheir opinion, and of that future good which they had promised\nthemselves, could not endure the distastes the new Prince gave them.\nTrue it is, that Countreys that have rebelled again the second time,\nbeing recovered, are harder lost; for their Lord, taking occasion from\ntheir rebellion, is less respective of persons, but cares only to secure\nhimself, by punishing the delinquents, to clear all suspicions, and to\nprovide for himself where he thinks he is weakest: so that if to make\nFrance lose Milan the first time, it was enough for Duke Lodwick to make\nsome small stir only upon the confines; yet afterwards, before they\ncould make him lose it the second time, they had need of the whole world\ntogether against him, and that all his armies should be wasted and\ndriven out of Italy; which proceeded from the forenamed causes: however\nthough both the first and second time it was taken from him. The\ngenerall causes of the first we have treated of; it remains now that we\nsee those of the second; and set down the remedies that he had, or any\none else can have that should chance to be in those termes he was,\nwhereby he might be able to maintain himself better in his conquest than\nthe King of France did. I say therefore, that these States which by\nConquest are annexed to the ancient states of their conqueror, are\neither of the same province and the same language, or otherwise; and\nwhen they are, it is very easy to hold them, especially when they are\nnot used to live free; and to enjoy them securely, it is enough to have\nextinguished the Princes line who ruled over them: For in other matters,\nallowing them their ancient conditions, and there being not much\ndifference of manners betwixt them, men ordinarily live quiet enough; as\nwe have seen that Burgundy did, Britany, Gascony, and Normandy, which so\nlong time continued with France: for however there be some difference of\nlanguage between them, yet can they easily comport one with another; and\nwhosoever makes the conquest of them, meaning to hold them, must have\ntwo regards; the first, that the race of their former Prince be quite\nextinguished; the other, that he change nothing, neither in their lawes\nnor taxes, so that in a very short time they become one entire body with\ntheir ancient Principality. But when any States are gaind in a Province\ndisagreeing in language, manners, and orders, here are the difficulties,\nand here is there need of good fortune, and great industry to maintain\nthem; and it would be one of the best and livelyest remedies, for the\nConqueror to goe in person and dwell there; this would make the\npossession hereof more secure and durable; as the Turk hath done in\nGreece, who among all the other courses taken by him for to hold that\nState, had he not gone thither himself in person to dwell, it had never\nbeen possible for him to have kept it: for abiding there, he sees the\ndisorders growing in their beginnings, and forthwith can remedy them;\nwhereas being not there present, they are heard of when they are grown\nto some height, and then is there no help for them. Moreover, the\nProvince is not pillaged by the officers thou sendest thither: the\nsubjects are much satisfied of having recourse to the Prince near at\nhand, whereupon have they more reason to love him, if they mean to be\ngood; and intending to do otherwise, to fear him: and forrein Princes\nwill be well aware how they invade that State; insomuch, that making his\nabode there, he can very hardly lose it. Another remedy, which is also a\nbetter, is to send Colonies into one or two places, which may be as it\nwere the keys of that State; for it is necessary either to do this, or\nto maintain there many horse and foot. In these colonies the Prince\nmakes no great expence, and either without his charge, or at a very\nsmall rate, he may both send and maintain them; and gives offence only\nto them from whom he takes their fields and houses, to bestow them on\nthose new inhabitants who are but a very small part of that State; and\nthose that he offends, remaining dispersed and poore, can never hurt\nhim: and all the rest on one part, have no offence given them, and\ntherefore a small matter keeps them in quiet: on the other side, they\nare wary not to erre, for fear it befalls not them, as it did those that\nwere dispoild. I conclude then, that those colonies that are not\nchargeable, are the more trusty, give the less offence; and they that\nare offended, being but poor and scattered, can do but little harme, as\nI have said; for it is to be noted, that men must either be dallyed and\nflattered withall, or else be quite crusht; for they revenge themselves\nof small dammages; but of great ones they are not able; so that when\nwrong is done to any man, it ought so to be done, that it need fear no\nreturn of revenge again. But in lieu of Colonies, by maintaining\nsoldiers there, the expence is great; for the whole revenues of that\nState are to be spent in the keeping of it; so the conquest proves but a\nloss to him that hath got it, and endammages him rather; for it hurts\nthat whole State to remove the army from place to place, of which\nannoyance every one hath a feeling, and so becomes enemie to thee; as\nthey are enemies, I wis, who are outraged by thee in their own houses,\nwhensoever they are able to do thee mischief. Every way then is this\nguard unprofitable. Besides, he that is in a different Province, (as it\nis said) should make himself Head and defender of his less powerfull\nneighbors, and devise alwaies to weaken those that are more mighty\ntherein, and take care that upon no chance there enter not any foreiner\nas mighty as himself; for it will alwaies come to pass, that they shall\nbe brought in by those that are discontented, either upon ambition, or\nfear; as the Etolians brought the Romans into Greece; and they were\nbrought into every countrey they came, by the Natives; and the course of\nthe matter is, that so soon as a powerfull Stranger enters a countrey,\nall those that are the less powerfull there, cleave to him, provoked by\nan envy they beare him that is more mighty than they; so that for these\nof the weaker sort, he may easily gain them without any pains: for\npresently all of them together very willingly make one lump with that he\nhath gotten: He hath only to beware that these increase not their\nstrengths, nor their authorities, and so he shall easily be able by his\nown forces, and their assistances, to take down those that are mighty,\nand remain himself absolute arbitre of that Countrey. And he that playes\nnot well this part, shall quickly lose what he hath gotten; and while he\nholds it, shall find therein a great many troubles and vexations. The\nRomans in the Provinces they seiz'd on, observed well these points, sent\ncolonies thither, entertained the weaker sort, without augmenting any\nthing their power, abated the forces of those that were mighty, and\npermitted not any powerfull forreiner to gain too much reputation there.\nAnd I will content my self only with the countrey of Greece for example\nhereof. The Achayans and Etolians were entertained by them, the Macedons\nkingdome was brought low, Antiochus was driven thence, nor ever did the\nAchayans or Etolians deserts prevail so far for them, that they would\never promise to enlarge their State, nor the perswasions of Philip\ninduce them ever to be his friends, without bringing him lower; nor yet\ncould Antiochus his power make them ever consent that he should hold any\nState in that countrey: for the Romans did in these cases that which all\njudicious Princes ought to do, who are not only to have regard unto all\npresent mischiefs, but also to the future, and to provide for those with\nall industry; for by taking order for those when they are afarre off, it\nis easie to prevent them; but by delaying till they come near hand to\nthee, the remedy comes too late; for this malignity is grown incurable:\nand it befalls this, as the physicians say of the hectick feaver, that\nin the beginning it is easily cur'd, but hardly known; but in the course\nof time, not having been known in the beginning, nor cured, it becomes\neasie to know, but hard to cure. Even so falls it out in matters of\nState; for by knowing it aloof off (which is given only to a wise man to\ndo) the mischiefs that then spring up, are quickly helped; but when, for\nnot having been perceived, they are suffered to increase, so that every\none sees them, there is then no cure for them: therefore the Romans,\nseeing these inconvenients afar off, alwaies prevented them, and never\nsufferd them to follow; for to escape a war, because they knew that a\nwar is not undertaken, but deferred for anothers advantage; therefore\nwould they rather make a war with Philip and Antiochus in Greece, to the\nend it should not afterwards be made with them in Italy, though for that\ntime they were able to avoid both the one and the other, which they\nthought not good to do: nor did they approve of that saying that is\nordinarily in the mouthes of the Sages of our dayes, _to enjoy the\nbenefits of the present time_; but that rather, to take the benefit of\ntheir valor and wisdome; for time drives forward everything, and may\nbring with it as well good as evil, and evil as good. But let us return\nto France, and examine if any of the things prescribed have been done by\nthem: and we will speak of Lewis, and not of Charles, as of whom by\nreason of the long possession he held in Italy we better knew the wayes\nhe went: and you shall see he did the clean contrary to what should have\nbeen done by him that would maintain a State of different Language and\nconditions. King Lewis was brought into Italy by the Venetians ambition,\nwho would have gotten for their shares half the State of Lombardy: I\nwill not blame his comming, or the course he took, because he had a mind\nto begin to set a foot in Italy; but having not any friends in the\ncountry, all gates being barred against him, by reason of King Charles\nhis carriage there, he was constrained to joyn friendship with those he\ncould; and this consideration well taken, would have proved lucky to\nhim, when in the rest of his courses he had not committed any error. The\nKing then having conquered Lombardy, recovered presently all that\nreputation that Charles had lost him; Genua yeelded to him, the\nFlorentines became friends with him; the Marquess of Mantua, the Duke of\nFerrara, the Bentivolti, the Lady of Furli, the Lord of Faenza, Pesaro\nRimino, Camerino, and Piombino, the Lucheses, Pisans and Sienses, every\none came and offered him friendship: then might the Venetians consider\nthe rashness of the course they had taken, who, only to get into their\nhands two Townes in Lombardy, made the King Lord of two thirds in Italy.\nLet any man now consider with how small difficulty could the King have\nmaintained his reputation in Italy, if he had followed these aforenamed\nrules, and secured and defended those his friends, who because their\nnumber was great, and they weak and fearful, some of the Church, and\nothers of the Venetians were alwaies forced to hold with him, and by\ntheir means he might easily have been able to secure himself against\nthose that were mightiest: but he was no sooner got into Milan, than he\ntook a quite wrong course, by giving ayd to Pope Alexander, to seize\nupon Romania, and perceiv'd not that by this resolution he weakned\nhimself, ruining his own friends, and those had cast themselves into his\nbosom, making the Church puissant, by adding to their Spiritual power,\nthey gaind their authority, and so much temporal estate. And having once\ngot out of the way, he was constrained to go on forward; insomuch as to\nstop Alexanders ambition, and that he should not become Lord of all\nTuscany, of force he was to come into Italy: and this sufficed him not,\nto have made the Church mighty, and taken away his own friends; but for\nthe desire he had to get the Kingdome of Naples, he divided it with the\nKing of Spain: and where before he was the sole arbitre of Italy, he\nbrought in a competitor, to the end that all the ambitious persons of\nthat country, and all that were ill affected to him, might have\notherwhere to make their recourse: and whereas he might have left in\nthat Kingdome some Vice-King of his own, he took him from thence, to\nplace another there, that might afterward chace him thence. It is a\nthing indeed very natural and ordinary, to desire to be of the getting\nhand: and alwaies when men undertake it, if they can effect it, they\nshall be prais'd for it, or at least not blam'd: but when they are not\nable, and yet will undertake it, here lies the blame, here is the error\ncommitted. If France then was able with her own power to assail the\nKingdome of Naples, she might well have done it; but not being able, she\nshould not have divided it: and if the division she made of Lombardy\nwith the Venetians, deserv'd some excuse, thereby to set one foot in\nItaly; yet this merits blame, for not being excused by that necessity.\nLewis then committed these five faults; extinguisht the feebler ones,\naugmented the State of another that was already powerful in Italy,\nbrought thereinto a very puissant forreiner, came not thither himself to\ndwell there, nor planted any colonies there: which faults while he\nliv'd, he could not but be the worse for; yet all could not have gone so\nill, had he not committed the sixt, to take from the Venetians their\nState; for if he had not enlarg'd the Churches territories nor brought\nthe Spaniard into Italy, it had bin necessary to take them lower; but\nhaving first taken those other courses, he should never have given way\nto their destruction; for while they had been strong, they would alwaies\nhave kept the others off from venturing on the conquest of Lombardy. For\nthe Venetians would never have given their consents thereto, unless they\nshould have been made Lords of it themselves; and the others would never\nhave taken it from France, to give it them: and then they would never\nhave dar'd to go and set upon them both together. And if any one should\nsay, that King Lewis yeelded Romania to Alexander, and the Kingdome of\nNaples to Spain, to avoid a war; I answer with the reasons above\nalledged, that one should never suffer any disorder to follow, for\navoiding of a war; for that war is not sav'd, but put off to thy\ndisadvantage. And if any others argue, that the King had given his word\nto the Pope, to do that exploit for him, for dissolving of his marriage,\nand for giving the Cardinals Cap to him of Roan; I answer with that\nwhich hereafter I shall say touching Princes words, how they ought to be\nkept. King Lewis then lost Lombardy, for not having observ'd some of\nthose termes which others us'd, who have possessed themselves of\ncountries, and desir'd to keep them. Nor is this any strange thing, but\nvery ordinary and reasonable: and to this purpose I spake at Nantes with\nthat French Cardinal, when Valentine (for so ordinarily was Caesar Borgia\nPope Alexanders son call'd) made himself master of Romania; for when the\nCardinal said to me, that the Italians understood not the feats of war;\nI answered, the Frenchmen understood not matters of State: for had they\nbeen well vers'd therein, they would never have suffer'd the Church to\nhave grown to that greatness. And by experience we have seen it, that\nthe power hereof in Italy, and that of Spain also, was caused by France,\nand their own ruine proceeded from themselves. From whence a general\nrule may be taken, which never, or very seldom fails, _That he that\ngives the means to another to become powerful, ruines himself_; for that\npower is caus'd by him either with his industry, or with his force; and\nas well the one as the other of these two is suspected by him that is\ngrown puissant.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. IV\n\nWherefore Darius his Kingdome taken by Alexander, rebelled not against\nAlexanders Successors after his death.\n\n\nThe difficulties being consider'd, which a man hath in the maintaining\nof a State new gotten, some might marvaile how it came to pass, that\nAlexander the great subdued all Asia in a few years; and having hardly\npossessed himself of it, died; whereupon it seemed probable that all\nthat State should have rebelled; nevertheless his Successors kept the\npossession of it, nor found they other difficulty in holding it, than\nwhat arose among themselves through their own ambition. I answer, that\nall the Principalities whereof we have memory left us, have been\ngoverned in two several manners; either by a Prince, and all the rest\nVassals, who as ministers by his favor and allowance, do help to govern\nthat Kingdom; or by a Prince and by Barons, who not by their Princes\nfavor, but by the antiquity of blood hold that degree. And these kinds\nof Barons have both states of their own, and Vassals who acknowledge\nthem for their Lords; and bare them a true natural affection. Those\nStates that are govern'd by a Prince and by Vassals, have their Prince\nruling over them with more authority; for in all his countrey, there is\nnone acknowledged for superior, but himself: and if they yeeld obedience\nto any one else, it is but as to his minister and officer, nor beare\nthey him any particular good will. The examples of these two different\nGovernments now in our dayes, are, the Turk, and the King of France. The\nTurks whole Monarchy is govern'd by one Lord, and the rest are all his\nVassals; and dividing his whole Kingdom into divers Sangiacques or\nGovernments, he sends several thither, and those he chops and changes,\nas he pleases. But the King of France is seated in the midst of a\nmultitude of Lords, who of old have been acknowledg'd for such by their\nsubjects, and being belov'd by them, enjoy their preheminencies; nor can\nthe King take their States from them without danger. He then that\nconsiders the one and the other of these two States, shall find\ndifficulty in the conquest of the Turks State; but when once it is\nsubdu'd, great facility to hold it. The reasons of these difficulties in\ntaking of the Turks Kingdom from him, are, because the Invader cannot be\ncalled in by the Princes of that Kingdom, nor hope by the rebellion of\nthose which he hath about him, to be able to facilitate his enterprize:\nwhich proceeds from the reasons aforesaid; for they being all his\nslaves, and oblig'd to him, can more hardly be corrupted; and put case\nthey were corrupted, little profit could he get by it, they not being\nable to draw after them any people, for the reasons we have shewed:\nwhereupon he that assails the Turk, must think to find him united; and\nmust rather relie upon his own forces, than in the others disorders: but\nwhen once he is overcome and broken in the field, so that he cannot\nrepair his armies, there is nothing else to be doubted than the Royal\nblood, which being once quite out, there is none else left to be feard,\nnone of the others having any credit with the people. And as the\nconqueror before the victory could not hope in them; so after it, ought\nhe not to fear them. The contrary falls out in Kingdoms governed as is\nthat of France: for it is easie to be enterd by the gaining of any Baron\nin the Kingdom; for there are alwaies some malecontents to be found, and\nthose that are glad of innovation. Those for the reasons alledg'd are\nable to open thee a way into that State, and to further thy victory,\nwhich afterwards to make good to thee, draws with it exceeding many\ndifficulties, as well with those that have ayded thee, as those thou\nhast supprest. Nor is it enough for thee to root out the Princes race:\nfor there remaine still those Lords who quickly will be the ring-leaders\nof new changes; and in case thou art not able to content these, nor\nextinguish them, thou losest that State, whensoever the occasion is\nofferd. Now if thou shalt consider what sort of government that of\nDarius was, thou shalt find it like to the Turks dominion, and therefore\nAlexander was necessitated first to defeat him utterly, and drive him\nout of the field; after which victory Darius being dead, that State was\nleft secure to Alexander, for the reasons we treated of before: and his\nsuccessors, had they continued in amity, might have enjoy'd it at ease:\nnor ever arose there in that Kingdome other tumults, than those they\nthemselves stir'd up. But of the States that are order'd and grounded as\nthat of France, it is impossible to become master at such ease: and from\nhence grew the frequent rebellions of Spain, France, and Greece against\nthe Romans, by reason of the many Principalities those States had:\nwhereof while the memory lasted, the Romans were alwayes doubtfull of\nthe possession of them; but the memory of them being quite wip't out, by\nthe power and continuance of the Empire, at length they enjoy'd it\nsecurely; and they also were able afterwards fighting one with another,\neach of one them to draw after them the greater part of those provinces,\naccording as their authority had gain'd them credit therein: and that\nbecause the blood of their ancient Lords was quite spent, they\nacknowledg'd no other but the Romans. By the consideration then of these\nthings, no man will marvaile that Alexander had so little trouble to\nkeep together the State of Asia; and that others have had such great\ndifficulties to maintain their conquest, as Pyrrhus, and many others;\nwhich proceeds not from the small or great valour of the conquerour, but\nfrom the difference of the subject.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. V\n\nIn what manner Cities and Principalities are to be govern'd, which,\nbefore they were conquer'd, liv'd under their own Laws.\n\n\nWhen those States that are conquered, as it is said, have been\naccustomed to live under their own Laws, and in liberty, there are three\nwayes for a man to hold them. The first is to demolish all their strong\nplaces; the other, personally to goe and dwell there; the third, to\nsuffer them to live under their own Laws, drawing from them some\ntribute, and creating therein an Oligarchy, that may continue it in thy\nservice: for that State being created by that Prince, knowes it cannot\nconsist without his aid and force, who is like to doe all he can to\nmaintain it; and with more facility is a City kept by meanes of her own\nCitizens, which hath been us'd before to live free, than by any other\nway of keeping. We have for example the Spartans and the Romans; the\nSpartans held Athens and Thebes, creating there an Oligarchy: yet they\nlost it. The Romans to be sure of Capua, Carthage, and Numantia,\ndismantell'd them quite, and so lost them not: they would have kept\nGreece as the Spartans had held them, leaving them free, and letting\nthem enjoy their own Laws; and it prospered not with them: so that they\nwere forc'd to deface many Cities of that province to hold it. For in\ntruth there is not a surer way to keep them under, than by\ndemolishments; and whoever becomes master of a City us'd to live free,\nand dismantells it not, let him look himselfe to bee ruin'd by it; for\nit alwayes in time of rebellion takes the name of liberty for refuge,\nand the ancient orders it had; which neither by length of time, nor for\nany favours afforded them, are ever forgotten; and for any thing that\ncan be done, or order'd, unlesse the inhabitants be disunited and\ndispers'd, that name is never forgotten, nor those customes: but\npresently in every chance recourse is thither made: as Pisa did after so\nmany yeeres that she had been subdu'd by the Florentines. But when the\nCities or the Provinces are accustomed to live under a Prince, and that\nwhole race is quite extirpated: on one part being us'd to obey; on the\nother, not having their old Prince; they agree not to make one from\namong themselves: they know not how to live in liberty, in such manner\nthat they are much slower to take armes; and with more facility may a\nPrince gaine them, and secure himselfe of them. But in Republiques there\nis more life in them, more violent hatred, more earnest desire of\nrevenge; nor does the remembrance of the ancient liberty ever leave\nthem, or suffer them to rest; so that the safest way, is, either to\nruine them, or dwell among them.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. VI\n\nOf new Principalities, that are conquer'd by ones own armes and valour.\n\n\nLet no man marvaile, if in the discourse I shall make of new\nPrincipalities, both touching a Prince, and touching a State, I shall\nalledge very famous examples: for seeing men almost alwayes walk in the\npathes beaten by others, and proceed in their actions by imitation; and\nbeing that others wayes cannot bee exactly follow'd, nor their vertues,\nwhose patterne thou set'st before thee, attain'd unto; a wise man ought\nalwayes to tread the footsteps of the worthiest persons, and imitate\nthose that have been the most excellent: to the end that if his vertue\narrive not thereto, at least it may yeeld some favour thereof, and doe\nas good Archers use, who thinking the place they intend to hit, too\nfarre distant, and knowing how farr the strength of their bow will\ncarry, they lay their ayme a great deale higher than the mark; not for\nto hit so high with their arrow, but to bee able with the help of so\nhigh an aime to reach the place they shoot at. I say, that in\nPrincipalities wholly new, where there is a new Prince, there is more\nand lesse difficulty in maintaining them, as the vertue of their\nConquerour is greater or lesser. And because this successe, to become a\nPrince of a private man, presupposes either vertue, or fortune; mee\nthinks the one and other of these two things in part should mitigate\nmany difficulties; however he that hath lesse stood upon fortune, hath\nmaintain'd himselfe the better. Moreover it somewhat facilitates the\nmatter in that the Prince is constrain'd, because he hath not other\ndominions, in person to come and dwell there. But to come to these who\nby their own vertues, and not by fortune, attain'd to be Princes; the\nexcellentest of these are Moses, Cyrus, Romulus, Theseus, and such like;\nand though of Moses we are not to reason, he onely executing the things\nthat were commanded him by God; yet merits he well to be admir'd, were\nit only for that grace that made him worthy to converse with God. But\nconsidering Cyrus, and the others, who either got or founded Kingdomes,\nwe shall find them all admirable; and if there particular actions and\nLawes be throughly weigh'd, they will not appeare much differing from\nthose of Moyses, which he receiv'd from so Sovraigne an instructer. And\nexamining their lives and actions, it will not appeare, that they had\nother help of fortune, than the occasion, which presented them with the\nmatter wherein they might introduce what forme they then pleas'd; and\nwithout that occasion, the vertue of their mind had been extinguish'd;\nand without that vertue, the occasion had been offer'd in vaine. It was\nthen necessary for Moses to find the people of Israel slaves in AEgypt,\nand oppress'd by the AEgyptians, to the end that they to get out of their\nthraldome, should bee willing to follow him. It was fit that Romulus\nshould not be kept in Albia, but expos'd presently after his birth, that\nhe might become King of Rome, and founder of that City. There was need\nthat Cyrus should find the Persians discontented with the Medes\ngovernment, and the Medes delicate and effeminate through their long\npeace. Theseus could not make proof his vertue, had not he found the\nAthenians dispers'd. These occasions therefore made these men happy, and\ntheir excellent vertue made the occasion be taken notice of, whereby\ntheir countrey became enobled, and exceeding fortunate. They, who by\nvertuous waies, like unto these, become Princes, attain the Principality\nwith difficulty, but hold it with much ease; and the difficulties they\nfind in gaining the Principality, arise partly from the new orders and\ncourses they are forc'd to bring in, to lay the foundation of their\nState, and work their own security. And it is to be consider'd, how\nthere is not any thing harder to take in hand, nor doubtfuller to\nsucceed, nor more dangerous to mannage, than to be the chief in bringing\nin new orders; for this Chief finds all those his enemies, that thrive\nupon the old orders; and hath but luke warme defenders of all those that\nwould do well upon the new orders, which luke-warme temper proceeds\npartly from fear of the opposers who have the laws to their advantage;\npartly from the incredulity of the men who truly beleeve not a new\nthing, unless there be some certain proof given them thereof. Whereupon\nit arises, that whensoever they that are adversaries, take the occasion\nto assayle, they do it factiously; and these others defend but cooly, so\nthat their whole party altogether runs a hazzard. Therefore it is\nnecessary, being we intend throughly to discourse this part, to examine\nif these innovators stand of themselves, or if they depend upon others;\nthat is, if to bring their work to effect, it be necessary they should\nintreat, or be able to constrain; in the first case they allwayes\nsucceed ill, and bring nothing to pass; but when they depend of\nthemselves, and are able to force, then seldom it is that they hazzard.\nHence came it that all the prophets that were arm'd, prevail'd; but\nthose that were unarm'd, were too weak: for besides what we have\nalledg'd, the nature of the people is changeable, and easie to be\nperswaded to a matter; but it is hard also to settle them in that\nperswasion. And therefore it behoves a man to be so provided, that when\nthey beleeve no longer, he may be able to compel them thereto by force.\nMoses, Cyrus, Theseus, and Romulus would never have been able to cause\ntheir Laws to be obey'd, had they been disarm'd; as in our times it\nbefel Fryer Jerome Savanarola, who perished in his new constitutions,\nwhen the multitude began not to beleeve him; neither had he the means to\nkeep them firme, that had beleev'd; not to force beleefe in them that\nhad not beleev'd him. Wherefore such men as these, in their proceedings\nfind great difficulty, and all their dangers are in the way, and these\nthey must surmount by their vertue; but having once master'd them, and\nbeginning to be honored by all, when they have rooted those out that\nenvi'd their dignities, they remain powerful, secure, honorable, and\nhappy. To these choice examples, I will add one of less remark; but it\nshall hold some proportion with them, and this shall suffice me for all\nothers of this kind, which is Hiero the Siracusan. He of a private man,\nbecame Prince of Siracusa, nor knew he any other ayd of fortune than the\noccasion: for the Siracusans being oppress'd, made choyce of him for\ntheir Captain, whereupon he deserv'd to be made their Prince: and he was\nof such vertue even in his private fortune, that he who writes of him,\nsayes, he wanted nothing of reigning, but a Kingdom; this man\nextinguish'd all the old soldiery, ordaind the new; left the old\nallyances, entertained new; and as he had friendship, and soldiers that\nwere his own, upon that ground he was able to build any edifice; so that\nhe indured much trouble in gaining, and suffered but little in\nmaintaining.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. VII\n\nOf new Principalities, gotten by fortune, and other mens forces.\n\n\nThey who by fortune only become Princes of private men, with small pains\nattain to it, but have much ado to maintain themselves in it; and find\nno difficulty at all in the way, because they are carried thither with\nwings: but all the difficulties arise there, after they are plac'd in\nthem. And of such sort are those who have an estate given them for\nmoney, by the favor of some one that grants it them: as it befell many\nin Greece, in the cities of Jonia, and Hellespont; where divers Princes\nwere made by Darius, as well for his own safety as his glory; as also\nthem that were made Emperors; who from private men by corrupting the\nsoldiers, attaind to the Empire. These subsist meerly upon the will, and\nfortune of those that have advanced them; which are two voluble and\nunsteady things; and they neither know how, nor are able to continue in\nthat dignity: they know not how, because unless it be a man of great\nunderstanding and vertue, it is not probable that he who hath always\nliv'd a private life, can know how to command: neither are they able,\nbecause they have not any forces that can be friendly or faithful to\nthem. Moreover those States that suddenly fall into a mans hands, as all\nother things in nature that spring and grow quickly, cannot well have\ntaken root, nor have made their correspondencies so firm, but that the\nfirst storm that takes them, ruines them; in case these, who (as it is\nsaid) are thus on a sudden clambred up to be Princes, are not of that\nworth and vertue as to know how to prepare themselves to maintain that\nwhich chance hath cast into their bosoms, and can afterwards lay those\nfoundations, which others have cast before they were Princes. For the\none and the other of these wayes about the attaining to be a Prince, by\nVertue, or by Fortune, I will alledge you two examples which have been\nin the dayes of our memory. These were Francis Sforza, and Caesar Borgia;\nFrancis by just means and with a great deal of vertue, of a private man\ngot to be Duke of Millan; and that which with much pains he had gaind,\nhe kept with small ado. On the other side Caeesar Borgia (commonly termed\nDuke Valentine) got his state by his Fathers fortune, and with the same\nlost it; however that for his own part no pains was spar'd, nor any\nthing omitted, which by a discreet and valorus man ought to have been\ndone, to fasten his roots in those Estates, which others armes or\nfortune had bestowed on him; for (as it was formerly said) he that lays\nnot the foundations first, yet might be able by means of his\nextraordinary vertues to lay them afterwards, however it be with the\ngreat trouble of the architect, and danger of the edifice. If therefore\nwe consider all the Dukes progresses, we may perceive how great\nfoundations he had cast for his future power, which I judge a matter not\nsuperfluous to run over; because I should not well know, what better\nrules I might give to a new Prince, than the pattern of his actions; and\nhowever the courses he took, availd him not, yet was it not his fault,\nbut it proceeded from an extraordinary and extream malignity of fortune.\nPope Alexander the sixt, desiring to make the Duke his son a great man,\nhad a great many difficulties, present and future: first he saw no way\nthere was whereby he might be able to make him Lord of any State, that\nwas not the Churches; and if he turnd to take that from the Church, he\nknew that the Duke of Milan, and the Venetians would never agree to it;\nfor Faenza and Riminum were under the Venetians protection. Moreover, he\nsaw that the armes of Italy, and those whereof in particular he might\nhave been able to make some use, were in their hands, who ought to fear\nthe Popes greatness; and therefore could not any wayes rely upon them:\nbeing all in the Orsins and Colonies hands, and those of their faction.\nIt was necessary then, that those matters thus appointed by them should\nbe disturbed, and the States of Italy disordered, to be able safely to\nmaster part of them, which he then found easie to do, seeing the\nVenetians upon three considerations had us'd the means to bring the\nFrench men back again into Italy: which he not only did not withstand,\nbut furthered, with a resolution of King Lewis his ancient marriage. The\nKing then past into Italy with the Venetians ayd, and Alexanders\nconsent; nor was he sooner arrived in Milan, than the Pope had soldiers\nfrom him for the service of Romania, which was quickly yeelded up to him\nupon the reputation of the Kings forces. The Duke then having made\nhimself master of Romania, and beaten the Colonies, desiring to hold it,\nand proceed forward, two things hindered him: the one, his own soldiers,\nwhich he thought were not true to him; the other, the French mens good\nwills; that is to say, he feared that the Princes soldiers, whereof he\nhad served himself, would fail him, and not only hinder his conquest,\nbut take from him what he had gotten; and that the King also would serve\nhim the same turn. He had experience of the Orsini upon an occasion,\nwhen after the taking of Faenza he assaulted Bolonia, to which assault\nhe saw them go very cold. And touching the King, he discovered his mind,\nwhen having taken the Dutchy of Urbin, he invaded Tuscany; from which\naction the King made him retire; whereupon the Duke resolved to depend\nno more upon fortune, and other mens armes. And the first thing he did,\nwas, to weaken the Orsini, and Colonnies factions in Rome: for he gain'd\nall their adherents that were gentlemen, giving them large allowances,\nand honoring them according to their qualities with charges and\ngovernments; so that in a few months the good will they bare to the\nparties was quite extinguisht, and wholly bent to the Duke. After this,\nhe waited an occasion to root out the Orsini, having before dispersed\nthose of the family of Colonnia, which fell out well to his hand; and he\nus'd it better. For the Orsini being too late aware, that the Dukes and\nthe Churches greatness was their destruction, held a Council together in\na dwelling house of theirs in the country adjoyning to Perusia. From\nthence grew the rebellion of Urbin, and the troubles of Romania, and\nmany other dangers befell the Duke, which he overcame all with the help\nof the French: and having regained his reputation, trusting neither\nFrance, nor any forrein forces, to the end he might not be put to make\ntrial of them again, he betook himself to his sleghts; and he knew so\nwell to disguise his intention, that the Orsins, by the mediation of\nPaul Orsine, were reconciled to him, to whom the Duke was no way wanting\nin all manner of courtesies whereby to bring them into security, giving\nthem rich garments, money, and horses, til their own simplicities led\nthem all to Sinigallia, into his hands. These heads being then pluck'd\noff, and their partisans made his friends; the Duke had laid very good\nfoundations, to build his own greatness on, having in his power all\nRomania with the Dutchy of Urbin, and gained the hearts of those people,\nby beginning to give them some relish of their well being. And because\nthis part is worthy to be taken notice of, and to be imitated by others,\nI will not let it escape. The Duke, when he had taken Romania, finding\nit had been under the hands of poor Lords who had rather pillag'd their\nsubjects, than chastis'd or amended them, giving them more cause of\ndiscord, than of peace and union, so that the whole countrey was fraught\nwith robberies, quarrels, and other sorts of insolencies; thought the\nbest way to reduce them to termes of pacification, and obedience to a\nPrincely power, was, to give them some good government: and therefore he\nset over them one Remiro D'Orco, a cruel hasty man, to whom he gave an\nabsolute power. This man in a very short time setled peace and union\namongst them with very great reputation. Afterwards the Duke thought\nsuch excessive authority serv'd not so well to his purpose, and doubting\nit would grow odious, he erected a civil Judicature in the midst of the\ncountrey, where one excellent Judge did Preside, and thither every City\nsent their Advocate: and because he knew the rigors past had bred some\nhatred against him, to purge the minds of those people, and to gain them\nwholly to himself, he purpos'd to shew, that if there was any cruelty\nused, it proceeded not from any order of his, but from the harsh\ndisposition of his Officers. Whereupon laying hold on him, at this\noccasion, he caus'd his head to be struck off one morning early in the\nmarket place at Cesena, where he was left upon a gibbet, with a bloody\nsword by his side; the cruelty of which spectacle for a while satisfied\nand amaz'd those people. But to return from whence we have digressd: I\nsay, that the Duke finding himself very strong, and in part out of doubt\nof the present dangers, because he was arm'd after his own manner, and\nhad in some good measure suppress'd those forces, which, because of\ntheir vicinity, were able to annoy him, he wanted nothing else to go on\nwith his Conquest, but the consideration of France: for he knew, that\nthe King, who now, though late, was advis'd of his error, would never\nsuffer him: and hereupon he began to seek after new allyances, and to\nwaver with France, when the French came towards Naples against the\nSpaniards, who then besieged Gagetta; and his design was only to be out\nof their danger, which had been effected for him, had Pope Alexander\nlived. And thus were his businesses carried touching his present estate.\nAs for the future, he had reason to doubt lest the new successor to the\nPapacy would not be his friend, and would endeavor to take that from him\nthat Alexander had bestowed on him; and he thought to provide for this\nfoure waies: First by rooting out the races of all those Lords he had\ndispoyled, whereby to take those occasions from the Pope. Secondly, by\ngaining all the gentlemen of Rome, whereby he might be able with those\nto keep the Pope in some awe. Thirdly, to make the Colledge of Cardinals\nas much at his devotion as possibly might be. Fourthly, by making of so\nlarge Conquests, before the Popes death, as that he might be able of\nhimself to withstand the first fury of his enemies. Three of these fowre\nat Pope Alexanders death he had effected, and the fourth he had neare\nbrought to a point. For of those Lords he had stript, he put to death as\nmany as he could come at, and very few escap'd him: he gaind him the\nRoman Gentlemen: and in the Colledge he had made a great faction. And\ntouching his new Conquest, he had a designe to become Lord of Tuscany.\nAnd he had possessed himself already of Perusia, and Pombin, and taken\nprotection of Pisa: and so soon as he should have cast off his respect\nto France (which now he meant to hold no longer) being the French were\nnow driven out of the Kingdome of Naples by the Spaniards, so that each\nof them was forc'd to buy his friendship at any termes; he was then to\nleap into Pisa. After this Lucca and Siena were presently to fall to\nhim, partly for envy to the Florentines, and partly for fear. The\nFlorentines had no way to escape him: all which, had it succeeded with\nhim, as without question it had, the very same year that Alexander dy'd,\nhe had made himself master of so great forces, and such reputation, that\nhe would have been able to have stood upon his own bottom, without any\ndependance of fortune, or resting upon others helps, but only upon his\nown strength and valor. But Alexander dy'd five years after that he had\nbegun to draw forth his sword: and left him setled only in the State of\nRomania, with all his other designes in the ayre, sick unto death,\nbetween two very strong armies of his enemies; and yet was there in this\nDuke such a spirit and courage; and he understood so well, how men are\nto be gaind, and how to be lost, and so firm were the grounds he had\nlaid in a short time, that, had he not had those armies upon his back,\nor had been in health, he would have carried through his purpose in\nspight of all opposition; and that the foundations he grounded upon were\ngood, it appeard in that Romania held for him above a moneth, and he\nremained secure in Rome, though even at deaths doore: and however the\nBaglioni, Vitelli, and Orsini came into Rome; yet found they none would\ntake their parts against him. And this he was able to have effected,\nthat if he could not have made him Pope whom be would, he could have\nhindred him that he would not should be Pope. But had he been in health\nwhen Alexander dy'd, every thing had gone easily with him; and he told\nme on that day that Julius the second was created Pope, that he had\nfore-thought on all that which could happen, in case his father chanc'd\nto dye, and for every thing provided its remedy, this onely excepted,\nthat he foresaw not that he should at the same time be brought unto\ndeaths dore also. Having then collected all the Dukes actions, me thinks\nI could not well blame him, but rather (as I have here done) set him as\na pattern to be followed by all those who by fortune and others armes\nhave been exalted to an Empire. For he being of great courage, and\nhaving lofty designes, could not carry himself otherwise; and the only\nobstacle of his purposes was the brevity of Alexanders life, and his own\nsickness. Whoever therefore deemes it necessary in his entrance into a\nnew Principality, to secure himself of his enemies, and gain him\nfriends, to overcome either by force or by cunning, to make himself\nbeloved, or feared of his people, be followed and reverenced by his\nsoldiers, to root out those that can, or owe thee any hurt, to change\nthe ancient orders with new wayes, to be severe, and yet acceptable,\nmagnanimous, and liberall; to extinguish the unfaithfull soldiery, and\ncreate new; to maintain to himself the armities of Kings and Princes, so\nthat they shall either with favor benefit thee, or be wary how to offend\nthee; cannot find more fresh and lively examples than the actions of\nthis man. He deserves to be found fault withall for the creation of\nJulius the second, wherein an evil choice was made for him: for, as it\nis said, not being able to make a Pope to his mind, he could have\nwithheld any one from being Pope; and should never have consented that\nany one of those Cardinals should have got the Papacy, whom he had ever\ndone harme to; or who having attaind the Pontificate were likely to be\nafraid of him: because men ordinarily do hurt either for fear, or\nhatred. Those whom he had offended, were among others, he who had the\ntitle of St. Peter ad Vincula, Colonna, St. George, and Ascanius; all\nthe others that were in possibility of the Popedome, were such as might\nhave feard him rather, except the Cardinal of Roan, and the Spaniards;\nthese by reason of their allyance and obligation with him, the other\nbecause of the power they had, having the Kingdome of France on their\nparty; wherefore the Duke above all things should have created a\nSpanyard Pope, and in case he could not have done that, he should have\nagreed that Roan should have been, and not St. Peter ad Vincula. And\nwhoever beleeves, that with great personages new benefits blot on the\nremembrance of old injuries, is much deceiv'd. The Duke therefore in\nthis election, was the cause of his own ruine at last.\n\n    Till wee come to this seaventh Chapter, I find not any thing\n    much blame-worthy, unlesse it be on ground he layes in the\n    second Chapter; whereupon hee builds most of this Fabrick, viz.\n    That Subjects must either be dallyed or flatterd withall, or\n    quite crusht. Whereby our Author advises his Prince to support\n    his authority with two Cardinall Vertues, Dissimulation, and\n    Cruelty. He considers not herein that the head is but a member\n    of the body, though the principall; and the end of the parts is\n    the good of the whole. And here he goes against himselfe in the\n    twenty sixt Chapter of his Rep. 1. 1. where hee blames Philip of\n    Macedon for such courses, terming them very cruell, and against\n    all Christian manner of living; and that every man should refuse\n    to be a King, and desire rather to live a private life, than to\n    reigne so much to the ruine of mankind. The life of Caesar\n    Borgia, which is here given as a paterne to new Princes, we\n    shall find to have been nothing else but a cunning carriage of\n    things so, that he might thereby first deceive and inveigle, and\n    then suppresse all those that could oppose or hinder his\n    ambition. For if you runne over his life, you shall see the\n    Father Pope Alexander the sixt and him, both imbarqued for his\n    advancement, wherein they engag'd the Papall authority, and\n    reputation of Religion; for faith and conscience these men never\n    knew, though they exacted it of others: there was never promise\n    made, but it was only so farre kept as servd for advantage;\n    Liberality was made use of: Clemency and Cruelty, all alike, as\n    they might serve to worke with their purposes. All was\n    sacrific'd to ambition; no friendship could tye these men, nor\n    any religion: and no marvell: for ambition made them forget both\n    God and man. But see the end of all this cunning: though this\n    Caesar Borgia contrived all his businesse so warily, that our\n    Author much commends him, and hee had attaind neere the pitch of\n    his hopes, and had provided for each misadventure could befall\n    him its remedy; Policy shewd it selefe short-sighted; for hee\n    foresaw not at the time of his Fathers death, he himself should\n    bee brought unto deaths doore also. And me thinks this Example\n    might have given occasion to our Author to confesse, that surely\n    there is a God that ruleth the earth. And many times God cutts\n    off those cunning and mighty men in the hight of their purposes,\n    when they think they have neare surmounted all dangers and\n    difficulties. 'To the intent that the living may know, that the\n    most high ruleth in the Kingdome of men, and giveth it to\n    whomsoever he will, and setteth up over it the basest of men.'\n    Daniel. 4. 17.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. VIII\n\nConcerning those who by wicked meanes have attaind to a Principality.\n\n\nBut because a man becomes a Prince of a private man two wayes, which\ncannot wholly be attributed either to Fortune or Vertue, I think not fit\nto let them passe me: howbeit the one of them may be more largely\ndiscoursed upon, where the Republicks are treated of. These are, when by\nsome wicked and unlawfull meanes a man rises to the Principality; or\nwhen a private person by the favour of his fellow Citizens becomes\nPrince of his countrey. And speaking of the first manner, it shall be\nmade evident by two Examples, the one ancient, the other moderne,\nwithout entring otherwise into the justice or merit of this part; for I\ntake it that these are sufficient for any body that is forc'd to follow\nthem. Agathocles the Sicilian, not of a private man onely, but from a\nbase and abject fortune, got to be King of Siracusa. This man borne but\nof a Potter, continued alwayes a wicked life throughout all the degrees\nof this fortune: neverthelesse he accompanied his lewdnesse with such a\ncourage and resolution, that applying himselfe to military affaires, by\nthe degrees thereof he attained to bee Praetour of Siracusa, and being\nsetled in that degree, and having determined that he would become\nPrince, and hold that by violence and without obligation to any other,\nwhich by consent had been granted him: and to this purpose haveing had\nsome private intelligence touching his designe with Amilcar the\nCarthaginian, who was imployd with his army in Sicily, one morining\ngatherd the people together and the Senate of Syracusa, as if he had\nsome what to advise with them of matters belonging to the Commonwealth,\nand upon a signe given, caus'd his souldiers to kill his Senatours, and\nthe richest of the people; who being slaine, he usurp'd the Principality\nof that City without any civill strife: and however he was twice broken\nby the Carthaginians, and at last besieged, was able not onely to defend\nhis own City, but leaving part of his own army at the defence thereof,\nwith the other invaded Affrique, and in a short time freed Siracusa from\nthe siege, and brought the Carthaginians into extreme necessity, who\nwere constraind to accord with him, be contented with the possession of\nAffrique, and quitt Sicily to Agathocles. He then that should consider\nthe actions and valour of this man, would not see any, or very few\nthings to be attributed unto Fortune; seeing that as is formerly sayd,\nnot by any ones favour, but by the degrees of service in warre with many\nsufferings and dangers, to which he had risen, he came to the\nPrincipality; and that hee maintained afterwards with so many resolute\nand hazardous undertakings. Yet cannot this be term'd vertue or valour\nto slay his own Citizens, betray his friends, to be without faith,\nwithout pitty, without religion, which wayes are of force to gaine\ndominion, but not glory: for if Agathocles his valour bee well weighd,\nin his enturing upon, and comming off from dangers, and the greatnesse\nof his courage, in supporting and mastering of adversities, no man can\nsee why he should be thought any way inferiour even to the ablest\nCaptaines. Notwithstanding his beastly cruelty and inhumanity with\ninnumerable wickednesses, allow not that he should be celebrated among\nthe most excellent men. That cannot then be attributed to Fortune or\nVertue, which without the one or the other was attaind to by him. In our\ndayes, while Alexander the sixth held the sea, Oliverotte of Fermo, who\nsome few yeeres before had been left young by his parents, was brought\nup under the care of an uncle of his on the mothers side, called John\nFoliani, and in the beginning of his youth given, by him to serve in the\nwarres under Paulo Vitelli: to the end that being well instructed in\nthat discipline, he might rise to some worthy degree in the warrs.\nAfterwards when Paulo was dead, he served under Vitellozzo his brother,\nand in very short time, being ingenious, of a good personage, and brave\ncourage, he became one of the prime men among the troops he served in:\nbut thinking it but servile to depend upon another, he plotted by the\nayd of some Citizens of Fermo (who lik'd rather the thraldome of their\nCity than the liberty of it) and by the favour of the Vitelli, to make\nhimselfe master of Fermo; and writ to John Foliani, that having been\nmany yeeres from home, he had a mind to come and see him and the City,\nand in some part take notice of his own patrimony; and because he had\nnot imployd himselfe but to purchase honour, to the end his Citizens\nmight perceive, that he had not vainely spent his time, he had a desire\nto come in good equipage and accompanied with a hundred horse of his\nfriends and servants; and he intreated him that he would be pleasd so to\ntake order, that he might be honourably received by the inhabitants of\nFermo, which turnd as well to his honor that was his uncle, as his that\nwas the nephew. In this, John faild not in any office of courtesie due\nto his nephew: and caused him to be well receivd by them of Fermo, and\nlodged him in his own house: where having passed some dayes, and stayd\nto put in order somewhat that was necessary for his intended villany, he\nmade a very solemne feast, whether he invited John Foliani, and all the\nprime men of Fermo: and when all their chear was ended, and all their\nother entertainments, as in such feasts it is customary, Oliverotto of\npurpose mov'd some grave discourses; speaking of the greatnesse of Pope\nAlexander, and Caesar his son, and their undertakings; where unto John\nand the others making answer, he of a sudden stood up, saying, that\nthose were things to be spoken of in a more secret place, and so retir'd\ninto a chamber, whether John and all the other Citizens followd him; nor\nwere they sooner set downe there, than from some secret place therein\ncamp forth diverse souldiers, who slew John and all the others: after\nwhich homicide Oliverotto got a horsebacke and ravaged the whole towne,\nand besieged the supreme Magistrate in the palace, so that for feare\nthey were all constraind to obey him, and to settle a government,\nwhereof hee made himselfe Prince; and they being all dead who, had they\nbeen discontented with him, could have hurt him; he strengthned himselfe\nwith new civill and military orders, so that in the space of a yeer that\nhe held the Principality, he was not only secure in the City of Fermo,\nbut became fearefull to all his neighbours; and the conquest of him\nwould have prov'd difficult, as that of Agathocles, had he not let\nhimselfe been deceivd by Caesar Borgia, when at Sinigallia, as before was\nsaid, he took the Orsini and Vitelli: where he also being taken a yeere\nafter he had committed the parricide, was strangled together with\nVitellozzo (whome he had had for master both of his vertues and vices.)\nSome man might doubt from whence it should proceed, that Agathocles, and\nsuch like, after many treacheries and crueltyes, could possibly live\nlong secure in his own countrey, and defend himselfe from his forrein\nenemies, and that never any of his own Citizens conspir'd against him,\nseeing that by means of cruelty, many others have never been able even\nin peaceable times to maintaine their States, much lesse in the\ndoubtfull times of warre. I beleeve that this proceeds from the well, or\nill using of those cruelties: they may bee termd well us'd (if it bee\nlawfull to say well of evill) that are put in practice only once of\nnecessity for securities sake, not insisting therein afterwards; but\nthere is use made of them for the subjects profit, as much as may be.\nBut those that are ill us'd, are such as though they bee but few in the\nbeginning, yet they multiply rather in time, than diminish. They that\ntake that first way, may with the help of God, and mens care, find some\nremedy for their State, as Agathocles did: for the others, it is\nimpossible they should continue. Whereupon it is to be noted, that in\nthe laying hold of a State, the usurper thereof ought to runne over and\nexecute all his cruelties at once, that he be not forced often to\nreturne to them, and that he may be able, by not renewing of them, to\ngive men some security, and gaine their affections by doing them some\ncourtesies. Hee that carries it otherwise, either for fearefullnesse, or\nupon evill advice, is alwayes constraind to hold his sword drawne in his\nhand; nor ever can hee rely upon his subjects, there being no\npossibility for them, because of his daily and continuall injuries, to\nlive in any safety: for his injuries should bee done altogether, that\nbeing seldomer tasted, they might lesse offend; his favours should bee\nbestowd by little, and little to the end they might keep their taste the\nbetter; and above all things a Prince must live with his subjects in\nsuch sort, that no accident either of good or evill can make him vary:\nfor necessity comming upon him by reason of adversities, thou hast not\ntime given thee to make advantage of thy cruelties; and the favours\nwhich then thou bestowest, will little help thee, being taken as if they\ncame from thee perforce, and so yeeld no returne of thanks.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. IX\n\nOf the Civill Principality.\n\n\nBut comming to the other part, when a principall Citizen, not by\nvillany, or any other insufferable violence, but by the favour of his\nfellow-citizens becomes Prince of his native countrey: which we may\nterme a Civill Principality; nor to attaine hereunto is Vertue wholly or\nFortune wholly necessary, but rather a fortunate cunning: I say, this\nPrincipality is climb'd up to, either by the peoples help, or the great\nmens. For, in every City we finde these two humours differ; and they\nspring from this, that the people desire not to be commanded nor\noppressed by the great ones, and the great ones are desirous to command\nand oppresse the people: and from these two several appetites, arise in\nthe City one of these three effects, either a Principality, or Liberty,\nor Tumultuary licentiousnesse. The Principality is caused either by the\npeople, or the great ones, according as the one or other of these\nfactions have the occasion offerd; for the great ones seeing themselves\nnot able to resist the people, begin to turne the whole reputation to\none among them, and make him Prince, whereby they may under his shadow\nvent their spleenes. The people also, not being able to support the\ngreat mens insolencies, converting the whole reputation to one man,\ncreate him their Prince, to be protected by his authority. He that comes\nto the Principality by the assistance of the great ones, subsists with\nmore difficulty, than he that attaines to it by the peoples favour; for\nhe being made Prince, hath many about him, who account themselves his\nequalls, and therefore cannot dispose nor command them at his pleasure.\nBut he that gaines the Principality by the peoples favor, finds himselfe\nalone in his throne, and hath none or very few neare him that are not\nvery supple to bend: besides this, the great ones cannot upon easie\ntermes be satisfied, or without doing of wrong to others, where as a\nsmall matter contents the people: for the end which the people propound\nto themselves, is more honest than that of the great men, these desiring\nto oppresse, they only not to be oppressed. To this may be added also,\nthat the Prince which is the peoples enemy, can never well secure\nhimselfe of them, because of their multitude; well may hee bee sure of\nthe Nobles, they being but a few. The worst that a Prince can look for\nof the people become his enemy, is to be abandoned by them: but when the\ngreat ones once grow his enemies, he is not only to feare their\nabandoning of him, but their making of a party against him also: for\nthere being in them more forecast and craft, they alwayes take time by\nthe forelocks whereby to save themselves, and seeke credit with him who\nthey hope shall get the mastery. The Prince likewise is necessitated\nalwayes to live with the same people, but can doe well enough without\nthe same great men; he being able to create new ones, and destroy them\nagain every day, and to take from them, and give them credit as he\npleases: and to cleare this part, I say, that great men ought to be\nconsiderd two wayes principally, that is, if they take thy proceedings\nso much to heart, as to engage their fortunes wholly in thine, in case\nthey lye not alwayes catching at spoyle, they ought to be well honourd\nand esteem'd: those that bind themselves not to thy fortune, are to be\nconsiderd also two wayes; either they doe it for lack of courage, and\nnaturall want of spirit, and then shouldst thou serve thy selfe of them,\nand of them especially that are men of good advice; for if thy affaires\nprosper, thou dost thy selfe honour thereby; if crost, thou needst not\nfeare them: but when they oblige not themselves to thee of purpose, and\nupon occasion of ambition, it is a signe they think more of themselves\nthan of thee: and of these the Prince ought to beware, and account of\nthem as his discoverd enemyes: for alwayes in thy adversity they will\ngive a hand too to ruine thee. Therefore ought hee that comes to be\nPrince by the peoples favour, keepe them his friends: which he may\neasily doe, they desiring only to live free from oppression: but he that\nbecomes Prince by the great mens favour, against the will of the people,\nought above all things to gaine the people to him, which he may easily\neffect, when he takes upon him their protection: And because men when\nthey find good, where they look for evill, are thereby more endered to\ntheir benefactour, therefore growes the people so pliant in their\nsubjection to him, as if by their favours he had attaind his dignity.\nAnd the Prince is able to gaine them to his side by many wayes, which\nbecause they vary according to the subject, no certaine rule can be\ngiven thereupon; wherefore we shall let them passe I will only conclude,\nthat it is necessary for a Prince to have the people his friend;\notherwise in his adversities he hath no helpe. Nabis Prince of the\nSpartans supported the siege of all Greece, and an exceeding victorious\narmy of the Romans, and against those defended his native countrey and\nState, and this suffic'd him alone, that as the danger came upon him, he\nsecur'd himself of a fewer; whereas if the people had been his enemy,\nthis had nothing availd him. And let no man think to overthrow this my\nopinion with that common proverb, that He who relyes upon the people,\nlayes his foundation in the dirt; for that is true where a private\nCitizen grounds upon them, making his account that the people shall free\nhim, when either his enemyes or the Magistrates oppresse him: In this\ncase he should find himself often deceiv'd, as it befell the Gracchyes\nin Rome, and in Florence George Scali: but he being a Prince that\ngrounds thereupon, who can command, and is a man of courage, who hath\nhis wits about him in his adversityes, and wants not other preparations,\nand holds together the whole multitude animated with his valour and\norders, shall not prove deceiv'd by them, and shall find he hath layd\ngood foundations. These Principalityes are wont to be upon the point of\nfalling when they goe about to skip from the civil order to the\nabsolute: for these Princes either command of themselves, or by the\nMagistrate; in this last case their State is more weak and dangerous,\nbecause they stand wholly at the will and pleasure of these Citizens,\nwho then are set over the Magistrates, who especially in adverse times\nare able with facility to take their State from them either by rising up\nagainst them, or by not obeying them; and then the Prince is not at hand\nin those dangers to take the absolute authority upon him: for the\nCitizens and subjects that are accustomed to receive the commands from\nthe Magistrates, are not like in those fractions to obey his: and in\ndoubtfull times he shall alwayes have greatest penury of whom he may\ntrust; for such a Prince cannot ground upon that which he sees in\npeaceable times, when the Citizens have need of the State; for then\nevery one runs, and every one promises, and every one will venture his\nlife for him, where there is no danger neare; but in times of hazzard,\nwhen the State hath need of Citizens, there are but few of them then,\nand so much the more is this experience dangerous, in that it can be but\nonce made. Therefore a prudent Prince ought to devise a way whereby his\nCitizens alwayes and in any case and quality of time may have need of\nhis government, and they shall alwaies after prove faithfull to him.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. X\n\nIn what manner the Forces of all Principalities ought to be measured.\n\n\nIt is requisite in examining the quality of those Principalities, to\nhave another consideration of them, that is, if a Prince have such\ndominions, that he is able in case of necessity to subsist of himself,\nor else whether he hath alwaies need of another to defend him. And to\ncleer this point the better, I judge them able to stand of themselves,\nwho are of power either for their multitudes of men, or quantity of\nmoney, to bring into the field a compleat armie, and joyn battel with\nwhoever comes to assail them: and so I think those alwaies to stand in\nneed of others help, who are not able to appear in the field against the\nenemy, but are forc'd to retire within their walls and guard them.\nTouching the first case, we have treated already, and shall adde somwhat\nthereto as occasion shall require. In the second case, we cannot say\nother, save only to encourage such Princes to fortifie and guard their\nown Capital city, and of the countrey about, not to hold much account;\nand whoever shall have well fortified that town, and touching other\nmatters of governments shall have behaved himself towards his subjects,\nas hath been formerly said, and hereafter shall be, shall never be\nassaild but with great regard; for men willingly undertake not\nenterprises, where they see difficulty to work them through; nor can\nmuch facility be there found, where one assails him, who hath his town\nstrong and wel guarded, and is not hated of his people. The cities of\nGermany are very free; they have but very little of the countrey about\nthem belonging to them; and they obey the Emperor, when they please, and\nthey stand not in fear, neither of him nor any other Potentate about\nthem: for they are in such a manner fortified, that every one thinks the\nsiege of any of them would prove hard and tedious: for all of them have\nditches, and rampires, and good store of Artillery, and alwaies have\ntheir publick cellars well provided with meat and drink and firing for a\nyeer: besides this, whereby to feed the common people, and without any\nloss to the publick, they have alwaies in common whereby they are able\nfor a year to imploy them in the labor of those trades that are the\nsinews and the life of that city, and of that industry whereby the\ncommons ordinarily supported themselves: they hold up also the military\nexercises in repute, and hereupon have they many orders to maintain\nthem. A Prince then that is master of a good strong city, and causeth\nnot himself to be hated, cannot be assaulted; and in case he were, he\nthat should assail him, would be fain to quit him with shame: for the\naffairs of the world are so various, that it is almost impossible that\nan army can lie incampt before a town for the space of a whole yeer: and\nif any should reply, that the people having their possessions abroad, in\ncase they should see them a fire, would not have patience, and the\ntedious siege and their love to themselves would make them forget their\nPrince: I answer that a Prince puissant and couragious, will easily\nmaster those difficulties, now giving his subjects hope, that the\nmischief will not be of durance; sometimes affright them with the\ncruelty of their enemies, and other whiles cunningly securing himself of\nthose whom he thinks too forward to run to the enemy. Besides this by\nordinary reason the enemy should burne and waste their countrey, upon\nhis arrival, and at those times while mens minds are yet warme, and\nresolute in their defence: and therefore so much the less ought a Prince\ndoubt: for after some few dayes, that their courages grow coole, the\ndammages are all done, and mischiefs received, and there is no help for\nit, and then have they more occasion to cleave faster to their Prince,\nthinking he is now more bound to them, their houses having for his\ndefence been fired, and their possessions wasted; and mens nature is as\nwell to hold themselves oblig'd for the kindnesses they do, as for those\nthey receive; whereupon if all be well weigh'd, a wise Prince shall not\nfind much difficulty to keep sure and true to him his Citizens hearts at\nthe beginning and latter end of the siege, when he hath no want of\nprovision for food and ammunition.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. XI\n\nConcerning Ecclesiastical Principalities.\n\n\nThere remains now only that we treat of the Ecclesiastical\nPrincipalities, about which all the difficulties are before they are\ngotten: for they are attained to either by vertue, or Fortune; and\nwithout the one or the other they are held: for they are maintaind by\norders inveterated in the religion, all which are so powerfull and of\nsuch nature, that they maintain their Princes in their dominions in what\nmanner soever they proceed and live. These only have an Estate and\ndefend it not; have subjects and govern them not; and yet their States\nbecause undefended, are not taken from them; nor their subjects, though\nnot govern'd, care not, think not, neither are able to aliene themselves\nfrom them. These Principalities then are only happy and secure: but they\nbeing sustained by superior causes, whereunto humane understanding\nreaches not, I will not meddle with them: for being set up and\nmaintained by God, it would be the part of a presumptuous and rash man\nto enter into discourse of them. Yet if any man should ask me whence it\nproceeds, that the Church in temporal power hath attaind to such\ngreatness, seeing that till the time of Alexander the sixt, the Italian\nPotentates, and not only they who are entituled the potentates, but\nevery Baron and Lord though of the meanest condition in regard of the\ntemporality, made but small account of it; and now a King of France\ntrembles at the power thereof; and it hath been able to drive him out of\nItaly, and ruine the Venetians; and however this be well known, me\nthinks it is not superstitious in some part to recall it to memory.\nBefore that Charles King of France past into Italy, this countrey was\nunder the rule of the Pope, Venetians, the King of Naples, the Duke of\nMilan, and the Florentines. These Potentates took two things principally\nto their care; the one, that no forreiner should invade Italy; the other\nthat no one of them should inlarge their State. They, against whom this\ncare was most taken, were the Pope and the Venetians; and to restrain\nthe Venetians, there needed the union of all the rest, as it was in the\ndefence of Ferrara; and to keep the Pope low, they served themselves of\nthe Barons of Rome, who being divided into two factions, the Orsini and\nColonnesi, there was alwaies occasion of offence between them, who\nstanding ready with their armes in hand in the view of the Pope, held\nthe Popedome weak and feeble: and however sometimes there arose a\ncouragious Pope, as was Sextus; yet either his fortune, or his wisdome\nwas not able to free him of these incommodities, and the brevity of\ntheir lives was the cause thereof; for in ten years, which time, one\nwith another, Popes ordinarily liv'd, with much ado could they bring low\none of the factions. And if, as we may say, one had near put out the\nColonnesi, there arose another enemy to the Orsini, who made them grow\nagain, so that there was never time quite to root them out. This then\nwas the cause, why the Popes temporal power was of small esteem in\nItaly; there arose afterwards Pope Alexander the sixt, who of all the\nPopes that ever were, shewed what a Pope was able to do with money and\nforces: and he effected, by means of his instrument, Duke Valentine, and\nby the ocasion of the French mens passage, all those things which I have\nformerly discoursed upon in the Dukes actions: and however his purpose\nwas nothing at all to inlarge the Church dominions, but to make the Duke\ngreat; yet what he did, turnd to the Churches advantage, which after his\ndeath when the Duke was taken away, was the heir of all his pains.\nAfterwards succeeded Pope Julius, and found the Church great, having all\nRomania, and all the Barons of Rome being quite rooted out, and by\nAlexanders persecutions, all their factions worne down; he found also\nthe way open for the heaping up of moneys, never practised before\nAlexanders time; which things Julius not only follow'd, but augmented;\nand thought to make himself master of Bolonia, and extinguish the\nVenetians, and chase the French men out of Italy: and these designes of\nhis prov'd all lucky to him, and so much the more to his praise in that\nhe did all for the good of the Church, and in no private regard: he kept\nalso the factions of the Orsins and Colonnesi, in the same State he\nfound them: and though there were among them some head whereby to cause\nan alteration; yet two things have held them quiet; the one the power of\nthe Church, which somewhat affrights them; the other because they have\nno Cardinals of their factions, who are the primary causes of all the\ntroubles amongst them: nor shall these parties ever be at rest, while\nthey have Cardinals; because they nourish the factions both in Rome, and\nabroad; and the Barons then are forced to undertake the defence of them:\nand thus from the Prelates ambitions arise the discords and tumults\namong the Barons. And now hath Pope Leo his Holiness found the Popedome\nexceeding puissant, of whom it is hoped, that if they amplified it by\narmes, he by his goodness, and infinite other vertues, will much more\nadvantage and dignifie it.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. XII\n\nHow many sorts of Military discipline there are and touching Mercenary\nsoldiers.\n\n\nHaving treated particularly of the qualities of those Principalities,\nwhich in the beginning I propounded to discourse upon, and considered in\nsome part the reasons of their well and ill being, and shewd the waies\nwhereby many have sought to gain, and hold them, it remains now that I\nspeak in general of the offences and defences, that may chance in each\nof the forenamed. We have formerly said that it is necessary for a\nPrince to have good foundations laid; otherwise it must needs be that he\ngo to wrack. The Principal foundations that all States have, as well\nnew, as old, or mixt, are good laws, and good armes; and because there\ncannot be good laws, where there are not good armes; and where there are\ngood armes, there must needs be good laws, I will omit to discourse of\nthe laws, and speak of armes. I say then that the armes, wherewithall a\nPrince defends his State, either are his own, or mercenary, or\nauxiliary, or mixt. Those that are mercenary and auxiliar, are\nunprofitable, and dangerous, and if any one holds his State founded upon\nmercenary armes, he shall never be quiet, nor secure, because they are\nnever well united, ambitious, and without discipline, treacherous, among\ntheir friends stour, among their enemies cowardly; they have no fear of\nGod, nor keep any faith with men; and so long only defer they the doing\nof mischief, till the enemy comes to assul thee; and in time of peace\nthou art despoyled by them, in war by thy enemies: the reason hereof is,\nbecause they have no other love, nor other cause to keep them in the\nfield, but only a small stipend, which is not of force to make them\nwilling to hazard their lives for thee: they are willing indeed to be\nthy soldiers, till thou goest to fight; but then they fly, or run away;\nwhich thing would cost me but small pains to perswade; for the ruine of\nItaly hath not had any other cause now a dayes, than for that it hath\nthese many years rely'd upon mercenary armes; which a good while since\nperhaps may have done some man some service, and among themselves they\nmay have been thought valiant: but so soon as any forrein enemy\nappeared, they quickly shewed what they were. Whereupon Charles the King\nof France, without opposition, made himself master of all Italy: and he\nthat said, that the causes thereof were our faults, said true; but these\nwere not those they beleeved, but what I have told; and because they\nwere the Princes faults, they also have suffered the punishment. I will\nfuller shew the infelicity of these armes. The mercenary Captains are\neither very able men, or not: if they be, thou canst not repose any\ntrust in them: for they will alwaies aspire unto their own proper\nadvancements, either by suppressing of thee that art their Lord, or by\nsuppressing of some one else quite out of thy purpose: but if the\nCaptain be not valorous, he ordinarily ruines thee: and in case it be\nanswered, that whoever shall have his armes in his hands, whether\nmercenary or not, will do so: I would reply, that armes are to be\nimployed either by a Prince, or Common-wealth. The Prince ought to go in\nperson, and performe the office of a commander: the Republick is to send\nforth her Citizens: and when she sends forth one that proves not of\nabilities, she ought to change him then; and when he does prove\nvalorous, to bridle him so by the laws, that he exceed not his\ncommission. And by experience we see, that Princes and Republiques of\nthemselves alone, make very great conquests; but that mercenary armes\nnever do other than harme; and more hardly falls a Republick armed with\nher own armes under the obedience of one of her own Citizens, than one\nthat is armed by forrein armes. Rome and Sparta subsisted many ages\narmed and free. The Swissers are exceedingly well armed, and yet very\nfree. Touching mercenary armes that were of old, we have an example of\nthe Carthagians, who near upon were oppress'd by their own mercenary\nsoldiers, when the first war with the Romans was finished; however the\nCarthagians had their own Citizens for their Captains. Philip of Macedon\nwas made by the Thebans after Epaminondas his death, General of their\nArmies; and after the victory, he took from them liberty. The Milaneses\nwhen Duke Philip was dead, entertaind Francis Sforza into their pay\nagainst the Venetians, who having vanquisht their enemie at Caravaggio,\nafterwards joyned with them, where by to usurp upon the Milaneses his\nMasters. Sforza his father, being in Joan the Queen of Naples pay, left\nher on a sudden disarmed; whereupon she, to save her Kingdom, was\nconstraind to cast her self into the King of Arrragon's bosome. And in\ncase the Venetians and the Florentines have formerly augmented their\nState with these kind of armes, and their own Captains, and yet none of\nthem have ever made themselves their Princes, but rather defended them:\nI answer, that the Florentines in this case have had fortune much their\nfriend: for of valorous Captains, which they might any way fear, some\nhave not been victors, some have had opposition, and others have laid\nthe aim of their ambitions another way. He who overcame not, was John\nAouto, of whose faith there could no proof be made, being he vanquisht\nnot; but every one will acknowledge, that, had he vanquisht, the\nFlorentines were at his discretion. Sforza had alwaies the Bracceschi\nfor his adversaries, so that they were as a guard one upon another.\nFrancis converted all his ambition against Lombardy. Braccio against the\nChurch, and the Kingdome of Naples. But let us come to that which\nfollowed a while agoe. The Florentines made Paul Vitelli their General,\na throughly advis'd man, and who from a private fortune had rose to very\ngreat reputation: had he taken Pisa, no man will deny but that the\nFlorentines must have held fast with him; for had he been entertained in\ntheir enemies pay, they had no remedy; and they themselves holding of\nhim, of force were to obey him. The Venetians, if we consider their\nproceedings, we shall see wrought both warily and gloriously, while\nthemselves made war, which was before their undertakings by land, where\nthe gentlemen with their own Commons in armes behav'd themselves\nbravely: but when they began to fight by land, they lost their valor,\nand follow'd the customes of Italy; and in the beginning of their\nenlargement by land, because they had not much territory, and yet were\nof great reputation, they had not much cause to fear their Captains; but\nas they began to extend their bounds, which was under their Commander\nCarminiola, they had a taste of this error: for perceiving he was\nexceeding valorous, having under his conduct beaten the Duke of Milan;\nand knowing on the other side, how he was cold in the war, they judg'd\nthat they could not make any great conquest with him; and because they\nneither would, nor could cashier him, that they might not lose what they\nhad gotten, they were forced for their own safeties to put him to death.\nSince they have had for their General Bartholomew of Berganio, Robert of\nSt. Severin, the Count of Petilian, and such like: whereby they were to\nfear their losses, as well as to hope for gain: as it fell out\nafterwards at Vayla, where in one day they lost that, which with so much\npains they had gotten in eight hundred years: for from these kind of\narmes grow slack and slow and weak gains; but sudden and wonderfull\nlosses: And because I am now come with these examples into Italy, which\nnow these many years, have been governd by mercenary armes, I will\nsearch deeper into them, to the end that their course and progress being\nbetter discoverd, they may be the better amended. You have to\nunderstand, that so soon as in these later times the yoak of the Italian\nEmpire began to be shaken off, and the Pope had gotten reputation in the\ntemporality, Italy was divided into several States: for many of the\ngreat cities took armes against their Nobility; who under the Emperors\nprotection had held them in oppression; and the Pope favored these,\nwhereby he might get himself reputation, in the temporality; of many\nothers, their Citizens became Princes, so that hereupon Italy being come\ninto the Churches hands as it were, and some few Republicks, those\nPriests and Citizens not accustomed to the use of armes, began to take\nstrangers to their pay. The first that gave reputation to these soldiers\nwas Alberick of Como in Romania. From his discipline among others\ndescended Brachio and Sforza, who in their time were the arbitres of\nItaly; after these followed all others, who even till our dayes have\ncommanded the armes of Italy; and the success of their valor hath been,\nthat it was overrun by Charles, pillaged by Lewis, forc'd by Ferdinand,\nand disgrac'd by the Swissers. The order which they have held, hath\nbeen, first whereby to give reputation to their own armes to take away\nthe credit of the Infantry. This they did, because they having no State\nof their own, but living upon their industry, their few foot gave them\nno reputation, and many they were not able to maintain; whereupon they\nreduc'd themselves to cavalery, and so with a supportable number they\nwere entertained and honored: and matters were brought to such termes,\nthat in an army of twenty thousand soldiers you should not find two\nthousand foot. They had moreover us'd all industry to free themselves\nand their soldiers of all pains and fear, in their skirmishes, not\nkilling, but taking one another prisoners, and without ransome for their\nfreedom; they repaired not all to their tents by night, nor made\npalizado or trench thereabout, nor lay in the field in the summer: and\nall these things were thus contrived and agreed of among them in their\nmilitary orders, whereby (as is said) to avoid pains and dangers,\ninsomuch as they have brought Italy into slavery and disgrace.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. XIII\n\nOf Auxiliary Soldiers, mixt, and native.\n\n\nThe Auxiliary forces, being the other kind of unprofitable armes, are,\nwhen any puissant one is called in, who with his forces comes to assist\nand defend thee; such as in these later times did Pope Julius use, who\nhaving seen the evil proof of his mercenary soldiers in the enterprize\nof Ferrara, applied himself to the Auxiliaries, and agreed with\nFerdinand King of Spain, that with his Forces he should aid him. These\narmes may be profitable and advantagious for themselves; but for him\nthat calls them in, hurtfull; because in losing, thou art left defeated;\nand conquering, thou becomest their prisoner. And however that of these\nexamples the ancient stories are full fraught; yet will I not part from\nthis of Pope Julius the second, which is as yet fresh: whose course\ncould not have been more inconsiderate, for the desire he had to get\nFerrara, putting himself wholly into strangers hands: but his good\nfortune caused another cause to arise, that hindred him from receiving\nthe fruit of his evil choice; for his Auxiliaries being broken at\nRavenna, and the Swissers thereupon arriving, who put the Conquerors to\nflight beyond all opinion, even their own and others, he chanced not to\nremain his enemies prisoner, they being put to flight, nor prisoner to\nhis Auxiliaries, having vanquished by other forces than theirs. The\nFlorentines being wholly disarmed, brought ten thousand French to Pisa\nfor to take it: by which course they ran more hazzard, than in any time\nof their troubles. The Emperor of Constantinople, to oppress his\nneighbors, brought into Greece ten thousand Turks, who when the war was\nended, could not be got out thence, which was the beginning of Greeces\nservitude under the Infidels. He then that will in no case be able to\novercome, let him serve himself of these armes; for they are much more\ndangerous than the mercenaries; for by those thy ruine is more suddenly\nexecuted; for they are all united, and all bent to the obedience of\nanother. But for the mercenaries to hurt thee, when they have\nvanquished, there is no more need of time, and greater occasion, they\nnot being all united in a body, and being found out and paid by thee,\nwherein a third that thou mak'st their head, cannot suddenly gaine so\ngreat authority, that he can endammage thee. In summe, in the\nmercenaries their sloth and lazinesse to fight is more dangerous: in the\nauxiliaries their valour. Wherefore a wise Prince hath alwayes avoyded\nthese kind of armes, and betaken himselfe to his owne, and desired\nrather to loss with his owne, than conquer with anothers, accounting\nthat not a true victorie which was gotten with others armes. I will not\ndoubt to alleadge Caesar Borgia, and his actions. This Duke entred into\nRomania with auxiliarie armes, bringing with him all French souldiers:\nbut afterwards not accounting those armes secure, bent himselfe to\nmercenaries, judging lesse danger to be in those, and tooke in pay the\nOrsini and the Vitelli, which afterwards in the proof of them, finding\nwavering, unfaithful, and dangerous, he extinguishd, and betook himselfe\nto his owne; and it may easily be perceiv'd what difference there is\nbetween the one and the other of these armes, considering the difference\nthat was between the Dukes reputation, when he had the French men alone,\nand when he had the Orsini and Vitelli; but when he remaind with his\nown, and stood of himselfe, we shall find it was much augmented: nor\never was it of grate esteeme, but when every one saw, that he wholly\npossessed his owne armes. I thought not to have parted from the Italian\nexamples of late memory; but that I must not let passe that of Hiero the\nSiracusan, being one of those I formerly nam'd. This man (as I said\nbefore) being made general of the Siracusans forces, knew presently that\nmercenary souldiery was nothing for their profit in that they were\nhirelings, as our Italians are; and finding no way either to hold, or\ncashier them made them all bee cut to peeces, and afterwards waged warre\nwith his owne men, and none others. I will also call to memory a figure\nof the old Testament serving just to this purpose. When David presented\nhimselfe before Saul to goe to fight with Goliah the Philistins\nChampion, Saul to encourage him, clad him with his owne armes, which\nDavid when he had them upon back, refused, saying, he was not able to\nmake any proofe of himself therein, and therefore would goe meet the\nenemy with his own sling and sword. In summe, others armes either fall\nfrom thy shoulders, or cumber or streighten thee. Charls the seventh,\nFather of Lewis the eleventh, having by his good fortune and valour set\nFrance at liberty from the English, knew well this necessity of being\narm'd with his owne armes, and settled in his Kingdome the ordinances of\nmen at armes, and infantry. Afterwards King Lewis his sonne abolisht\nthose of the infantry, and began to take the Swissers to pay; which\nerrour follow'd by the others, is (as now indeed it appeares) the cause\nof that Kingdomes dangers. For having given reputation to the Swissers,\nthey have renderd all their own armes contemptible; for this hath wholly\nruind their foot, and oblig'd their men at armes to forrein armes: for\nbeing accustomed to serve with the Swissers, they think they are not\nable to overcome without them. From whence it comes that the French are\nnot of force against the Swissers, and without them also against others\nthey use not to adventure. Therefore are the French armies mixt, part\nmercenaries, and part natives, which armes are farre better than the\nsimple mercenaries or simple auxiliaries, and much inferiour to the\nnatives; and let the said example suffice for that: for the Kingdome of\nFrance would have been unconquerable, if Charles his order had been\naugmented and maintaind: but men in their small wisdome begin a thing,\nwhich then because it hath some favour of good, discovers not the poyson\nthat lurkes thereunder, as I before said of the hectick feavers.\nWherefore that Prince which perceives not mischiefes, but as they grow\nup, is not truely wise; and this is given but to few: and if we consider\nthe first ruine of the Romane Empire, we shall find it was from taking\nthe Goths first into their pay; for from that beginning the forces of\nthe Romane Empire began to grow weak, and all the valour that was taken\nhence was given to them. I conclude then that without having armes of\ntheir owne, no Principality can be secure, or rather is wholly oblig'd\nto fortune, not having valour to shelter it in adversity. And it was\nalwayes the opinion and saying of wise men, that nothing is so weak and\nunsetled, as is the reputation of power not founded upon ones owne\nproper forces: which are those that are composed of thy subjects, or\nCitizens, or servants; all the rest are mercenary or auxiliary; and the\nmanner how to order those well, is easie to find out, if those orders\nabove nam'd by me, shall be but run over, and if it shall be but\nconsider'd, how Philip Alexander the Great his Father, and in what\nmanner many Republicks and Princes have armd and appointed themselves,\nto which appointments I referre my selfe wholly.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. XIV\n\nWhat belongs to the Prince touching military Discipline.\n\n\nA prince then ought to have no other ayme, nor other thought, nor take\nany thing else for his proper art, but warr, and the orders and\ndiscipline thereof: for that is the sole arte which belongs to him that\ncommands, and is of so great excellency, that not only those that are\nborne Princes, it maintains so; but many times raises men from a private\nfortune to that dignity. And it is seene by the contrary, that when\nPrinces have given themselves more to their delights, than to the\nwarres, they have lost their States; and the first cause that makes thee\nlose it, is the neglect of that arte; and the cause that makes thee\ngaine it, is that thou art experienc'd and approvd in that arte. Francis\nSforza by being a man at armes, of a private man became Duke of Milan;\nand his sons by excusing themselves of the troubles and paines belonging\nto those imployments of Princes, became private men. For among other\nmischiefes thy neglect of armes brings upon thee, it causes thee to be\ncontemnd, which is one of those disgraces, from which a Prince ought to\nkeepe himselfe, as hereafter shall be sayd: for from one that is disarmd\nto one that is armd there is no proportion; and reason will not, that he\nwho is in armes, should willingly yeeld obedience to him that is\nunfurnishd of them, and that he that is disarmd should be in security\namong his armed vassalls; for there being disdaine in the one, and\nsuspicion in the other, it is impossible these should ever well\ncooperate. And therefore a Prince who is quite unexperienced in matter\nof warre, besides the other infelicities belonging to him, as is said,\ncannot be had in any esteeme among his souldiers, nor yet trust in them.\nWherefore he ought never to neglect the practice of the arte of warre,\nand in time of peace should he exercise it more than in the warre; which\nhe may be able to doe two wayes; the one practically, and in his labours\nand recreations of his body, the other theoretically. And touching the\npractick part, he ought besides the keeping of his own subjects well\ntraind up in the discipline and exercise of armes, give himselfe much to\nthe chase, whereby to accustome his body to paines, and partly to\nunderstand the manner of situations, and to know how the mountaines\narise, which way the vallyes open themselves, and how the plaines are\ndistended flat abroad, and to conceive well the nature of the rivers,\nand marrish ground, and herein to bestow very much care, which knowledge\nis profitable in two kinds: first he learnes thereby to know his own\ncountrey, and is the better enabled to understand the defence thereof,\nand afterwards by meanes of this knowledge and experience in these\nsituations, easily comprehends any other situation, which a new he hath\nneed to view, for the little hillocks, vallies, plaines, rivers, and\nmarrish places. For example, they in Tuscany are like unto those of\nother countries: so that from the knowledge of the site of one country,\nit is easie to attain to know that of others. And that Prince that wants\nthis skill, failes of the principall part a Commander should be furnisht\nwith; for this shows the way how to discover the enemy, to pitch the\ncamp, to lead their armies, to order their battells, and also to besiege\na town at thy best advantage, Philopomenes Prince of the Achayans, among\nother praises Writers give him, they say, that in time of peace, he\nthought not upon any thing so much as the practise of warre; and\nwhensoever he was abroad in the field to disport himselfe with his\nfriends, would often stand still, and discourse with them, in case the\nenemies were upon the top of that hill, and we here with our army,\nwhether of us two should have the advantage, and how might we safely goe\nto find them, keeping still our orders; and if we would retire our\nselves, what course should we take if they retir'd, how should we follow\nthem? and thus on the way, propounded them all such accidents could\nbefall in any army; would heare their opinions, and tell his owne, and\nconfirme it by argument; so that by his continuall thought hereupon,\nwhen ever he led any army no chance could happen, for which he had not a\nremedy. But touching the exercise of the mind, a Prince ought to read\nHistories, and in them consider the actions of the worthiest men, marke\nhow they have behav'd themselves in the warrs, examine the occasions of\ntheir victories, and their losses; wherby they may be able to avoyd\nthese, and obtaine those; and above all, doe as formerly some excellent\nman hath done, who hath taken upon him to imitate, if any one that hath\ngone before him hath left his memory glorious; the course he took, and\nkept alwaies near unto him the remembrances of his actions and worthy\ndeeds: as it is said, that Alexander the great imitated Achilles; Caesar\nAlexander, and Scipio Cyrus. And whoever reads the life of Cyrus,\nwritten by Xenophon, may easily perceive afterwards in Scipio's life how\nmuch glory his imitation gaind him, and how much Scipio did conforme\nhimselfe in his chastity, affability, humanity, and liberality with\nthose things, that are written by Xenophon of Cyrus. Such like wayes\nought a wise Prince to take, nor ever be idle in quiet times, but by his\npaines then, as it were provide himself of store, whereof he may make\nsome use in his adversity, the end that when the times change, he may be\nable to resist the stormes of his hard fortune.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. XV\n\nOf those things, in respect whereof, men, and especially Princes, are\npraised, or dispraised.\n\n\nIt now remaines that we consider what the conditions of a Prince ought\nto be, and his termes of government over his subjects, and towards his\nfriends. And because I know that many have written hereupon; I doubt,\nlest I venturing also to treat thereof, may be branded with presumption,\nespecially seeing I am like enough to deliver an opinion different from\nothers. But my intent being to write for the advantage of him that\nunderstands me, I thought it fitter to follow the effectuall truth of\nthe matter, than the imagination thereof; And many Principalities and\nRepubliques, have been in imagination, which neither have been seen nor\nknowne to be indeed: for there is such a distance between how men doe\nlive, and how men ought to live; that he who leaves that which is done,\nfor that which ought to be done, learnes sooner his ruine than his\npreservation; for that man who will professe honesty in all his actions,\nmust needs goe to ruine among so many that are dishonest. Whereupon it\nis necessary for a Prince, desiring to preserve himselfe, to be able to\nmake use of that honestie, and to lay it aside againe, as need shall\nrequire. Passing by then things that are only in imagination belonging\nto a Prince, to discourse upon those that are really true; I say that\nall men, whensoever mention is made of them, and especially Princes,\nbecause they are placed aloft in the view of all, are taken notice of\nfor some of these qualities, which procure them either commendations or\nblame: and this is that some one is held liberal, some miserable,\n(miserable I say, nor covetous; for the covetous desire to have, though\nit were by rapine; but a miserable man is he, that too much for bears to\nmake use of his owne) some free givers, others extortioners; some\ncruell, others pitious; the one a Leaguebreaker, another faithfull; the\none effeminate and of small courage, the other fierce and couragious;\nthe one courteous, the other proud; the one lascivious, the other\nchaste; the one of faire dealing, the other wily and crafty; the one\nhard, the other easie; the one grave, the other light; the one\nreligious, the other incredulous, and such like. I know that every one\nwill confesse, it were exceedingly praise worthy for a Prince to be\nadorned with all these above nam'd qualities that are good: but because\nthis is not possible, nor doe humane conditions admit such perfection in\nvertues, it is necessary for him to be so discret, that he know how to\navoid the infamie of those vices which would thrust him out of his\nState; and if it be possible, beware of those also which are not able to\nremove him thence; but where it cannot be, let them passe with lesse\nregard. And yet, let him not stand much upon it, though he incurre the\ninfamie of those vices, without which he can very hardly save his State:\nfor if all be throughly considerd, some thing we shall find which will\nhave the colour and very face of Vertue, and following them, they will\nlead the to thy destruction; whereas some others that shall as much\nseeme vice, if we take the course they lead us, shall discover unto us\nthe way to our safety and well-being.\n\n    The second blemish in this our Authours book, I find in his\n    fifteenth Chapter: where he instructs his Prince to use such an\n    ambidexterity as that he may serve himselfe either of vertue, or\n    vice, according to his advantage, which in true pollicy is\n    neither good in attaining the Principality nor in securing it\n    when it is attaind. For Politicks, presuppose Ethiques, which\n    will never allow this rule: as that a man might make this small\n    difference between vertue, and vice, that he may indifferently\n    lay aside, or take up the one or the other, and put it in\n    practise as best conduceth to the end he propounds himselfe. I\n    doubt our Authour would have blamd Davids regard to Saul when 1\n    Sam. 24. in the cave he cut off the lap of Sauls garment, and\n    spared his head; and afterwards in the 26. when he forbad\n    Abishai to strike him as he lay sleeping. Worthy of a Princes\n    consideration is that saying of Abigal to David 1 Sam. 25. 30.\n\n    'It shall come to passe when the Lord shall have done to my Lord\n    according to all that he hath spoken concerning thee, and shall\n    have appointed thee Ruler over Israel, that this shall be no\n    grief to thee, nor offence of heart unto my Lord, that thou hast\n    forborne to shed blood, etc.'\n\n    For surely the conscience of this evill ground whereupon they\n    have either built, or underpropped their tyranny, causes men, as\n    well _metus_ as _spes in longum projicere_, which sets them a\n    work on further mischiefe.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. XVI\n\nOf Liberality, and Miserablenesse.\n\n\nBeginning then at the first of the above mentioned qualities, I say that\nit would be very well to be accounted liberall: neverthelesse,\nliberality used in such a manner, as to make thee be accounted so,\nwrongs thee: for in case it be used vertuously, and as it ought to be,\nit shall never come to be taken notice of, so as to free thee from the\ninfamie of its contrary. And therefore for one to hold the name of\nliberal among men, it were needfull not to omit any sumptuous quality,\ninsomuch that a Prince alwayes so dispos'd, shall waste all his\nrevenues, and at the end shall be forc'd, if he will still maintaine\nthat reputation of liberality, heavily to burthen his subjects, and\nbecome a great exactour; and put in practise all those things that can\nbe done to get mony: Which begins to make him hatefull to his subjects,\nand fall into every ones contempt, growing necessitous: so that having\nwith this liberality wrong'd many, and imparted of his bounty but to a\nfew; he feels every first mischance, and runs a hazard of every first\ndanger: Which he knowing, and desiring to withdraw himself from, incurs\npresently the disgrace of being termed miserable. A Prince therefore not\nbeing able to use this vertue of liberality, without his own damage, in\nsuch a sort, that it may be taken notice of, ought, if he be wise, not\nto regard the name of Miserable; for in time he shall alwaies be\nesteemed the more liberal, seeing that by his parsimony his own revenues\nare sufficient for him; as also he can defend himself against whoever\nmakes war against him, and can do some exploits without grieving his\nsubjects: so that he comes to use his liberality to all those, from whom\nhe takes nothing, who are infinite in number; and his miserableness\ntowards those to whom he gives nothing, who are but a few. In our dayes\nwe have not seen any, but those who have been held miserable, do any\ngreat matters; but the others all quite ruin'd. Pope Julius the second,\nhowever he serv'd himself of the name of Liberal, to get the Papacy, yet\nnever intended he to continue it, to the end he might be able to make\nwar against the King of France: and he made so many wars without\nimposing any extraordinary tax, because his long thrift supplyed his\nlarge expences. This present King of Spain could never have undertaken,\nnor gone through with so many exploits, had he been accounted liberal.\nWherefore a Prince ought little to regard (that he may not be driven to\npillage his subjects, that he may be able to defend himself, that he may\nnot fall into poverty and contempt, that he be not forced to become an\nextortioner) though he incurre the name of miserable; for this is one of\nthose vices, which does not pluck him from his throne. And if any one\nshould say, Caesar by his liberality obtained the Empire, and many others\n(because they both were, and were esteemd liberal) attaind to exceeding\ngreat dignities. I answer, either thou art already come to be a Prince,\nor thou art in the way to it; in the first case, this liberality is\nhurtful; in the second, it is necessary to be accounted so; and Caesar\nwas one of those that aspired to the Principality of Rome. But if after\nhe had gotten it, he had survived, and not forborne those expences, he\nwould quite have ruined that Empire. And if any one should reply; many\nhave been Princes, and with their armies have done great exploits, who\nhave been held very liberal. I answer, either the Prince spends of his\nown and his subjects, or that which belongs to others: in the first, he\nought to be sparing; in the second, he should not omit any part of\nliberality. And that Prince that goes abroad with his army, and feeds\nupon prey, and spoyle, and tributes, and hath the disposing of that\nwhich belongs to others, necessarily should use this liberality;\notherwise would his soldiers never follow him; and of that which is\nneither thine, nor thy subjects, thou mayest well be a free giver, as\nwere Cyrus, Caesar and Alexander; for the spending of that which is\nanothers, takes not away thy reputation, but rather adds to it, only the\nwasting of that which is thine own hurts thee; nor is there any thing\nconsumes itself so much as liberality, which whilest thou usest, thou\nlosest the means to make use of it, and becomest poore and abject; or to\navoid this poverty, an extortioner and hatefull person. And among all\nthose things which a Prince ought to beware of is, to be dispised, and\nodious; to one and the other of which, liberality brings thee. Wherefore\nthere is more discretion to hold the stile of Miserable, which begets an\ninfamy without hatred, than to desire that of Liberal, whereby to\nincurre the necessity of being thought an extortioner, which procures an\ninfamy with hatred.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. XVII\n\nOf Cruelty, and Clemency, and whether it is better to be belov'd, or\nfeard.\n\n\nDescending afterwards unto the other fore-alledged qualities, I say,\nthat every Prince should desire to be held pitiful, and not cruel.\nNevertheless ought he beware that he ill uses not this pitty. Caesar\nBorgia was accounted cruel, yet had his cruelty redrest the disorders in\nRomania, setled it in union, and restored it to peace, and fidelity:\nwhich, if it be well weighed, we shall see was an act of more pitty,\nthan that of the people of Florence, who to avoyd the terme of cruelty,\nsuffered Pistoya to fall to destruction. Wherefore a Prince ought not to\nregard the infamy of cruelty, for to hold his subjects united and\nfaithfull: for by giving a very few proofes of himself the other way, he\nshall be held more pittiful than they, who through their too much pitty,\nsuffer disorders to follow, from whence arise murthers and rapines: for\nthese are wont to hurt an intire universality, whereas the executions\npractised by a Prince, hurt only some particular. And among all sorts of\nPrinces, it is impossible for a new Prince to avoyd the name of cruel,\nbecause all new States are full of dangers: whereupon Virgil by the\nmouth of Dido excuses the inhumanity of her Kingdom, saying,\n\n  _Res dura et Regni novitas me talia cogunt\n  Moliri et late fines custode tenere._\n\n  My hard plight and new State force me to guard\n  My confines all about with watch and ward.\n\nNevertheless ought he to be judicious in his giving belief to any thing,\nor moving himself thereat, nor make his people extreamly afraid of him;\nbut proceed in a moderate way with wisdome, and humanity, that his too\nmuch confidence make him not unwary, and his too much distrust\nintolerable; from hence arises a dispute, whether it is better to be\nbelov'd or feard: I answer, a man would wish he might be the one and the\nother: but because hardly can they subsist both together, it is much\nsafer to be feard, than be loved; being that one of the two must needs\nfail; for touching men, we may say this in general, they are unthankful,\nunconstant, dissemblers, they avoyd dangers, and are covetous of gain;\nand whilest thou doest them good, they are wholly thine; their blood,\ntheir fortunes, lives and children are at thy service, as is said\nbefore, when the danger is remote; but when it approaches, they revolt.\nAnd that Prince who wholly relies upon their words, unfurnished of all\nother preparations, goes to wrack: for the friendships that are gotten\nwith rewards, and not by the magnificence and worth of the mind, are\ndearly bought indeed; but they will neither keep long, nor serve well in\ntime of need: and men do less regard to offend one that is supported by\nlove, than by fear. For love is held by a certainty of obligation, which\nbecause men are mischievous, is broken upon any occasion of their own\nprofit. But fear restrains with a dread of punishment which never\nforsakes a man. Yet ought a Prince cause himself to be belov'd in such a\nmanner, that if he gains not love, he may avoid hatred: for it may well\nstand together, that a man may be feard and not hated; which shall never\nfail, if he abstain from his subjects goods, and their wives; and\nwhensoever he should be forc'd to proceed against any of their lives, do\nit when it is to be done upon a just cause, and apparent conviction; but\nabove all things forbeare to lay his hands on other mens goods; for men\nforget sooner the death of their father, than the loss of their\npatrimony. Moreover the occasions of taking from men their goods, do\nnever fail: and alwaies he that begins to live by rapine, finds occasion\nto lay hold upon other mens goods: but against mens lives, they are\nseldome found, and sooner fail. But where a Prince is abroad in the\nfield with his army, and hath a multitude of soldiers under his\ngovernment, then is it necessary that he stands not much upon it, though\nhe be termed cruel: for unless he be so, he shall never have his\nsoldiers live in accord one with another, nor ever well disposed to any\nbrave piece of service. Among Hannibals actions of mervail, this is\nreckoned for one, that having a very huge army, gathered out of several\nnations, and all led to serve in a strange countrey, there was never any\ndissention neither amongst themselves, nor against their General, as\nwell in their bad fortune as their good. Which could not proceed from\nany thing else than from that barbarous cruelty of his, which together\nwith his exceeding many vertues, rendred him to his soldiers both\nvenerable and terrible; without which, to that effect his other vertues\nhad served him to little purpose: and some writers though not of the\nbest advised, on one side admire these his worthy actions, and on the\notherside, condemn the principal causes thereof. And that it is true,\nthat his other vertues would not have suffic'd him, we may consider in\nScipio, the rarest man not only in the dayes he liv'd, but even in the\nmemory of man; from whom his army rebel'd in Spain: which grew only upon\nhis too much clemency, which had given way to his soldiers to become\nmore licentious, than was well tollerable by military discipline: for\nwhich he was reprov'd by Fabius Maximus in the Senate, who termed him\nthe corrupter of the Roman soldiery. The Locrensians having been\ndestroyed by a Lieutenant of Scipio's, were never reveng'd by him, nor\nthe insolence of that Lieutenant punisht; all this arising from his\neasie nature: so that one desiring to excuse him in the Senate, said,\nthat there were many men knew better how to keep themselves from faults,\nthan to correct the faults of other men: which disposition of his in\ntime would have wrong'd Scipio's reputation and glory, had he therewith\ncontinu'd in his commands: but living under the government of the\nSenate, this quality of his that would have disgrac'd him not only was\nconceal'd, but prov'd to the advancement of his glory. I conclude then,\nreturning to the purpose of being feard, and belov'd; insomuch as men\nlove at their own pleasure, and to serve their own turne, and their fear\ndepends upon the Princes pleasure, every wise Prince ought to ground\nupon that which is of himself, and not upon that which is of another:\nonly this, he ought to use his best wits to avoid hatred, as was said.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. XVIII\n\nIn what manner Princes ought to keep their words.\n\n\nHow commendable in a Prince it is to keep his word, and live with\nintegrity, not making use of cunning and subtlety, every one knows well:\nyet we see by experience in these our dayes, that those Princes have\neffected great matters, who have made small reckoning of keeping their\nwords, and have known by their craft to turne and wind men about, and in\nthe end, have overcome those who have grounded upon the truth. You must\nthen know, there are two kinds of combating or fighting; the one by\nright of the laws, the other meerly by force. That first way is proper\nto men, the other is also common to beasts: but because the first many\ntimes suffices not, there is a necessity to make recourse to the second;\nwherefore it behooves a Prince to know how to make good use of that part\nwhich belongs to a beast, as well as that which is proper to a man. This\npart hath been covertly shew'd to Princes by ancient writers; who say\nthat Achilles and many others of those ancient Princes were intrusted to\nChiron the Senator, to be brought up under his discipline: the moral of\nthis, having for their teacher one that was half a beast and half a man,\nwas nothing else, but that it was needful for a Prince to understand how\nto make his advantage of the one and the other nature, because neither\ncould subsist without the other. A Prince then being necessitated to\nknow how to make use of that part belonging to a beast, ought to serve\nhimself of the conditions of the Fox and the Lion; for the Lion cannot\nkeep himself from snares, nor the Fox defend himself against the Wolves.\nHe had need then be a Fox, that he may beware of the snares, and a Lion\nthat he may scare the wolves. Those that stand wholly upon the Lion,\nunderstand not well themselves. And therefore a wise Prince cannot, nor\nought not keep his faith given when the observance thereof turnes to\ndisadvantage, and the occasions that made him promise, are past. For if\nmen were all good, this rule would not be allowable; but being they are\nfull of mischief, and would not make it good to thee, neither art thou\ntyed to keep it with them: nor shall a Prince ever want lawfull\noccasions to give colour to this breach. Very many modern examples\nhereof might be alledg'd, wherein might be shewed how many peaces\nconcluded, and how many promises made, have been violated and broken by\nthe infidelity of Princes; and ordinarily things have best succeeded\nwith him that hath been nearest the Fox in condition. But it is\nnecessary to understand how to set a good colour upon this disposition,\nand to be able to fain and dissemble throughly; and men are so simple,\nand yeeld so much to the present necessities, that he who hath a mind to\ndeceive, shall alwaies find another that will be deceivd. I will not\nconceal any one of the examples that have been of late. Alexander the\nsixth, never did any thing else than deceive men, and never meant\notherwise, and alwaies found whom to work upon; yet never was there man\nwould protest more effectually, nor aver any thing with more solemn\noaths, and observe them less than he; nevertheless, his cousenages all\nthriv'd well with him; for he knew how to play this part cunningly.\nTherefore is there no necessity for a Prince to be endued with all above\nwritten qualities, but it behooveth well that he seem to be so; or\nrather I will boldly say this, that having these qualities, and alwaies\nregulating himself by them, they are hurtfull; but seeming to have them,\nthey are advantageous; as to seem pittiful, faithful, mild, religious,\nand of integrity, and indeed to be so; provided withall thou beest of\nsuch a composition, that if need require to use the contrary, thou\ncanst, and knowest how to apply thy self thereto. And it suffices to\nconceive this, that a Prince, and especially a new Prince, cannot\nobserve all those things, for which men are held good; he being often\nforc'd, for the maintenance of his State, to do contrary to his faith,\ncharity, humanity, and religion: and therefore it behooves him to have a\nmind so disposd, as to turne and take the advantage of all winds and\nfortunes; and as formerly I said, not forsake the good, while he can;\nbut to know how to make use of the evil upon necessity. A Prince then\nought to have a special care, that he never let fall any words, but what\nare all season'd with the five above written qualities, and let him seem\nto him that sees and hears him, all pitty, all faith, all integrity, all\nhumanity, all religion; nor is there any thing more necessary for him to\nseem to have, than this last quality: for all men in general judge\nthereof, rather by the sight, than by the touch; for every man may come\nto the sight of him, few come to the touch and feeling of him; yvery man\nmay come to see what thou seemest, few come to perceive and understand\nwhat thou art; and those few dare not oppose the opinion of many, who\nhave the majesty of State to protect them: And in all mens actions,\nespecially those of Princes wherein there is no judgement to appeale\nunto men, forbeare to give their censures, till the events and ends of\nthings. Let a Prince therefore take the surest courses he can to\nmaintain his life and State: the means shall alwaies be thought\nhonorable, and commended by every one; for the vulgar is over-taken with\nthe appearance and event of a thing: and for the most part of people,\nthey are but the vulgar: the others that are but few, take place where\nthe vulgar have no subsisteance. A Prince there is in these dayes, whom\nI shall not do well to name, that preaches nothing else but peace and\nfaith; but had he kept the one and the other, several times had they\ntaken from him his state and reputation.\n\n    In the sixteenth, seventeenth, and eighteenth Chap, our Author\n    descends to particulars, perswading his Prince in his sixteenth\n    to such a suppleness of disposition, as that upon occasion he\n    can make use either of liberality or miserableness, as need\n    shall require. But that of liberality is to last no longer than\n    while he is in the way to some designe: which if he well weigh,\n    is not really a reward of vertue, how ere it seems; but a bait\n    and lure to bring birds to the net. In the seventeenth Chap, he\n    treats of clemency and cruelty, neither of which are to be\n    exercis'd by him as acts of mercy or justice; but as they may\n    serve to advantage his further purposes. And lest the Prince\n    should incline too much to clemency, our Author allows rather\n    the restraint by fear, than by love. The contrary to which all\n    stories shew us. I will say this only, cruelty may cut of the\n    power of some, but causes the hatred of all, and gives a will to\n    most to take the first occasion offerd for revenge. In the\n    eighteenth Chap, our Author discourses how Princes ought to\n    govern themselves in keeping their promises made: whereof he\n    sayes they ought to make such small reckoning, as that rather\n    they should know by their craft how to turne and wind men about,\n    whereby to take advantage of all winds and fortunes. To this I\n    would oppose that in the fifteenth Psal. v. 5. He that sweareth\n    to his neighbor, and disappointeth him not, though it were to\n    his own hindrance. It was a King that writ it, and me thinks the\n    rule he gave, should well befit both King and Subject: and\n    surely this perswades against all taking of advantages. A man\n    may reduce all the causes of faith-breaking to three heads. One\n    may be, because he that promised, had no intention to keep his\n    word; and this is a wicked and malitious way of dealing. A\n    second may bee, because hee that promisd, repents of his promise\n    made; and that is grounded on unconstancy, and lightness in that\n    he would not be well resolved before he entred into covenant.\n    The third may be, when it so falls out, that it lyes not in his\n    power that made the promise to performe it. In which case a man\n    ought to imitate the good debter, who having not wherewithall to\n    pay, hides not himself, but presents his person to his creditor,\n    willingly suffering imprisonment. The first and second are very\n    vitious and unworthy of a Prince: in the third, men might well\n    be directed by the examples of those two famous Romans, Regulus\n    and Posthumius. I shall close this with the answer of Charles\n    the fifth, when he was pressed to break his word with Luther for\n    his safe return from Wormes; _Fides rerum promissarum etsi toto\n    mundo exulet, tamen apud imperatorem cam consistere oportet_.\n    Though truth be banisht out of the whole world, yet should it\n    alwaies find harbour in an Emperors breast.\n\n[Sidenote: _Gulielmus Xenocarus_ in vit. Car. Quinti.]\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. XIX\n\nThat Princes should take a care, not to incurre contempt or hatred.\n\n\nBut because among the qualities, whereof formerly mention is made, I\nhave spoken of those of most importance, I will treat of the others more\nbriefly under these qualityes that a Prince is to beware, as in part is\nabove-said, and that he fly those things which cause him to be odious or\nvile: and when ever he shall avoid this, he shall fully have plaid his\npart, and in the other disgraces he shall find no danger at all. There\nis nothing makes him so odious, as I said, as his extortion of his\nsubjects goods, and abuse of their women, from which he ought to\nforbear; and so long as he wrongs not his whole people, neither in their\ngoods, nor honors, they live content, and he hath only to strive with\nthe Ambition of some few: which many waies and easily too, is\nrestrain'd. To be held various, light, effeminate, faint-hearted,\nunresolv'd, these make him be contemnd and thought base, which a Prince\nshould shun like rocks, and take a care that in all his actions there\nappear magnanimity, courage, gravity, and valor; and that in all the\nprivate affairs of his subjects, he orders it so, that his word stand\nirrevocable: and maintain himself in such repute, that no man may think\neither to deceive or wind and turn him about: that Prince that gives\nsuch an opinion of himself, is much esteemed, and against him who is so\nwell esteemed, hardly are any conspiracies made by his subjects, or by\nforreiners any invasion, when once notice is taken of his worth, and how\nmuch he is reverenced by his subjects: For a Prince ought to have two\nfears, the one from within, in regard of his subjects; the other from\nabroad, in regard of his mighty neighbors; from these he defends himself\nby good armes and good friends; and alwayes he shall have good friends,\nif he have good armes; and all things shall alwaies stand sure at home,\nwhen those abroad are firme, in case some conspiracy have not disturbed\nthem; and however the forrein matters stand but ticklishly; yet if he\nhave taken such courses at home, and liv'd as we have prescribed, he\nshall never be able (in case he forsake not himself) to resist all\npossibility, force and violence, as I said Nabis the Spartan did: but\ntouching his subjects, even when his affairs abroad are setled, it is to\nbe fear'd they may conspire privily; from which a Prince sufficiently\nsecure himself by shunning to be hated or contemned, and keeping himself\nin his peoples good opinion, which it is necessary for him to compass,\nas formerly we treated at large. And one of the powerfullest remedies a\nPrince can have against conspiracies, is, not to be hated nor dispised\nby the universality; for alwaies he that conspires, beleeves the Princes\ndeath is acceptable to the subject: but when he thinks it displeases\nthem, he hath not the heart to venture on such a matter; for the\ndifficulties that are on the conspirators side, are infinite. By\nexperience it is plain, that many times plots have been laid, but few of\nthem have succeeded luckily; for he that conspires, cannot be alone, nor\ncan he take the company of any, but of those, who he beleeves are\nmalecontents; and so soon as thou hast discover'd thy self to a\nmalecontent, thou givest him means to work his own content: for by\nrevealing thy treason, he may well hope for all manner of favour: so\nthat seeing his gain certain of one side; and on the other, finding only\ndoubt and danger, either he had need be a rare friend, or that he be an\nexceeding obstinate enemy to the Prince, if he keeps his word with thee.\nAnd to reduce this matter into short termes: I say, there is nothing but\njealousie, fear, and suspect of punishment on the conspirators part to\naffright him; but on the Princes part, there is the majesty of the\nprincipality, the laws, the defences of his friends and the State, which\ndo so guard him, that to all these things the peoples good wills being\nadded, it is unpossible any one should be so head-strong as to conspire;\nfor ordinarily where a traytor is to feare before the execution of his\nmischiefe, in this case he is also to feare afterwards, having the\npeople for his enemy when the fact is commited, and therefore for this\ncause, not being able to hope for any refuge. Touching this matter, many\nexamples might be brought; but I will content my selfe to name one which\nfell out in the memory of our Fathers. Annibal Bentivolii, grand Father\nof this Annibal who now lives, that was Prince in Bolonia, being slaine\nby the Canneschi that conspir'd against him, none of his race being\nleft, but this John, who was then in swadling clouts; presently the\npeople rose upon this murder, and slew all the Canneschi which proceeded\nfrom the popular affection, which the family of the Bentivolii held then\nin Bolonia: which was so great, that being there remain'd not any, now\nAnniball was dead, that was able to manage the State; and having notice\nthat in Florence there was one borne of the Bentivolii, who till then\nwas taken for a Smiths sonne: the citizens of Bolonia went to Florence\nfor him, and gave the government of their City to him, which was rul'd\nby him, untill John was of fit yeares to governe. I conclude then, that\na Prince ought to make small account of treasons, whiles he hath the\npeople to friend: but if they be his enemies and hate him, he may well\nfeare every thing, and every one. And well ordered States, and discreet\nPrinces have taken care withall diligence, not to cause their great men\nto fall into desperation, and to content the people, and so to maintaine\nthem: for this is one of the most important businesses belonging to a\nPrince. Among the Kingdomes that are well orderd and governd in our\ndayes, is that of France, and therein are found exceeding many good\norders, whereupon the Kings liberty and security depends: of which the\nchiefe is the Parliament, and the authority thereof: for he that founded\nthat Kingdome, knowing the great mens ambition and insolence; and\njudgeing it necessary there should be a bridle to curbe them; and on the\nother side knowing the hatred of the Commonalty against the great ones,\ngrounded upon feare, intending to secure them, would not lay this care\nwholly upon the King, but take this trouble from him, which he might\nhave with the great men, in case he favourd the Commonalty; or with the\nCommonalty, in case he favourd the great men; and thereupon set up a\nthird judge, which was that, to the end it should keep under the great\nones, and favour the meaner sort, without any imputation to the King. It\nwas not possible to take a better, nor wiser course then this; nor a\nsurer way to secure the King, and the Kingdome. From whence we may draw\nanother conclusion worthie of note, that Princes ought to cause others\nto take upon them the matters of blame and imputation; and upon\nthemselves to take only those of grace and favour. Here againe I\nconclude, that a Prince ought to make good esteeme of his Nobility; but\nnot thereby to incur the Commons hatred: It would seeme perhaps to many,\nconsidering the life and death of many Romane Emperours, that they were\nexamples contrary to my opinion, finding that some have liv'd worthily,\nand shewd many rare vertues of the minde, and yet have lost the Empire,\nand been put to death by their owne subjects, conspiring against them.\nIntending then to answer these objections, I shall discourse upon the\nqualities of some Emperours, declaring the occasions of their ruine, not\ndisagreeing from that which I have alledgd; and part thereof I will\nbestow on the consideration of these things, which are worthy to be\nnoted by him that reads the actions of those times: and it shall suffice\nme to take all those Emperours that succeeded in the Empire from Marcus\nthe Philosopher to Maximinus, who were Mercus and Commodus his sonne,\nPertinax, Julian, Severus, Antonius, Caracalla his sonne, Macrinus,\nHeliogabalus, Alexander, and Maximin. And first it is to be noted, that\nwhere in the other Principalities, they are to contend only with the\nambition of the Nobles, and the insolence of the people; the Romane\nEmperours had a third difficulty, having to support the cruelty and\ncovetousnesse of the souldiers, which was so hard a thing, that it\ncaused the ruine of many, being hard to satisfy the souldiers, and the\npeople; for the people love their quiet, and therefore affect modest\nPrinces; and the souldiers love a Prince of a warlike courage, that is\ninsolent, cruell, and plucking from every one: which things they would\nhave them exercise upon the people, whereby they might be able to double\ntheir stipends, and satisfie their avarice and cruelty: whence it\nproceeds, that those Emperours who either by Nature or by Art, had not\nsuch a reputation, as therewith they could curbe the one and the other,\nwere alwayes ruind: and the most of them, specially those who as new men\ncame to the principality, finding the difficulty of those two different\nhumours, applyed themselves to content the souldiers, making small\naccount of wronging the people, which was a course then necessary; for\nthe Princes not being able to escape the hatred of every one, ought\nfirst endeavour that they incurre not the hatred of any whole\nuniversality; and when they cannot attaine thereunto, they are to\nprovide with all industry, to avoyd the hatred of those universalities\nthat are the most mighty. And therefore those Emperors, who because they\nwere but newly call'd to the Empire, had need of extraordinary favours,\nmore willingly stuck to the soldiers, than to the people; which\nneverthelesse turnd to their advantage, or otherwise, according as that\nPrince knew how to maintaine his repute with them. From these causes\naforesayd proceeded it, that Marcus Pertinax, and Alexander, though all\nliving modestly, being lovers of justice, and enemies of cruelty,\ncourteous and bountifull, had all from Marcus on ward, miserable ends;\nMarcus only liv'd and dy'd exceedingly honoured: for he came to the\nEmpire by inheritance, and was not to acknowledge it either from the\nsoldiers, nor from the people: afterwards being accompanyed with many\nvertues, which made him venerable, he held alwayes whilst he liv'd the\none and the other order within their limits, and was never either hated,\nor contemnd. But Pertinax was created Emperour against the soldiers\nwills, who being accustomed to live licentiously under Commodus, could\nnot endure that honest course that Pertinax sought to reduce them to:\nWhereupon having gotten himself hatred, and to this hatred added\ncontempt, in that he was old, was ruind in the very beginning of his\ngovernment. Whence it ought to be observed, that hatred is gaind as well\nby good deeds as bad; and therefore as I formerly said, when a Prince\nwould maintaine the State, he is often forced not to be good: for when\nthat generality, whether it be the people, or soldiers, or Nobility,\nwhereof thou thinkst thou standst in need to maintain thee, is\ncorrupted, it behoves thee to follow their humour, and content them, and\nthen all good deeds are thy adversaries. But let us come to Alexander\nwho was of that goodnesse, that among the prayses given him, had this\nfor one, that in fourteen yeers wherein he held the Empire, he never put\nany man to death, but by course of justice; neverthelesse being held\neffeminate, and a man that suffered himselfe to be ruled by his mother,\nand thereupon fallen into contempt, the army conspird against him. Now\non the contrary discoursing upon the qualities of Commodus, Severus,\nAntonius, Caracalla, and Maximinus, you shall find them exceeding\ncruell, and ravinous, who to satisfie their soldiers, forbeare no kinde\nof injury that could be done upon the people; and all of them, except\nSeverus, came to evill ends: for in Severus, there was such\nextraordinary valour, that while he held the soldiers his freinds,\nhowever the people were much burthend by him, he might alwayes reigne\nhappily: for his valour rendred him so admirable in the souldiers and\npeoples sights; that these in a manner stood amazd and astonishd, and\nthose others reverencing and honoring him. And because the actions of\nthis man were exceeding great, being in a new Prince, I will briefly\nshew how well he knew to act the Foxes and the Lions parts; the\nconditions of which two, I say, as before, are very necessary for a\nPrince to imitate. Severus having had experience of Julian the Emperours\nsloth, perswaded his army (whereof he was commander in Sclavonia) that\nthey should doe well to goe to Rome to revenge Pertinax his death, who\nwas put to death by the Imperiall guard; and under this pretence, not\nmaking any shew that he aspird unto the Empire, set his army in march\ndirectly towards Rome, and was sooner come into Italy, than it was\nknowne he had mov'd from his station. Being ariv'd at Rome, he was by\nthe Senate chosen Emperour for feare, and Julian slaine. After this\nbeginning, two difficulties yet remaind to Severus, before he could make\nhimselfe Lord of the whole State; the one in Asia, where Niger the\nGenerall of those armies had gotten the title of Emperour, the other in\nthe West with Albinus, who also aspird to the Empire: and because he\nthought there might be some danger to discover himselfe enemy to them\nboth, he purposed to set upon Niger, and cozen Albinus, to whom he writ,\nthat being elected Emperour by the Senate, he would willingly\ncommunicate it with him; and thereupon sent him the title of Caesar, and\nby resolution of the Senate, tooke him to him for his Colleague; which\nthings were taken by Albinus in true meaning. But afterwards when\nSeverus had overcome and slaine Niger, and pacified the affaires and in\nthe East, being returned to Rome, he complaind in the Senate of Albinus,\nhow little weighing the benefits received from him, he had sought to\nslay him by treason, and therefore was he forc'd to goe punish his\ningratitude: afterwards he went into France, where he bereft him both of\nhis State and life, whoever then shall in particular examine his\nactions, shall finde he was a very cruell Lion, and as crafty a Fox: and\nshall see that he was alwayes feard and reverenc'd by every one, and by\nthe armies not hated; and shall nothing marvell that he being a new man,\nwas able to hold together such a great Empire: for his extraordinary\nreputation defended him alwayes from that hatred, which the people for\nhis extortions might have conceiv'd against him. But Antonius his sonne,\nwas also an exceeding brave man, and endued with most excellent\nqualities, which causd him to be admird by the people, and acceptable to\nthe souldiers, because he was a warlike man, enduring all kind of\ntravell and paines, despising all delicate food, and all kinde of\neffeminacy, which gaind him the love of all the armies: neverthelesse\nhis fiercenesse and cruelty were such, and so hideous, having upon many\nparticular occasions put to death a great part of the people of Rome,\nand all those of Alexandria, that he grew odious to the world, and began\nto be feard by those also that were neare about him; so that he was\nslaine by a Centurion in the very midst of his army. Where it is to be\nnoted, that these kinde of deaths, which follow upon the deliberation of\na resolv'd and obstinate minde, cannot by a Prince be avoyded: for every\none that feares not to dye, is able to doe it; but a Prince ought to be\nlesse afraid of it because it very seldome falls out. Only should he\nbeware not to doe any extreame injury to any of those of whom he serves\nhimself, or that he hath near about him in any imployment of his\nPrincipality, as Antonius did: who had reproachfully slaine a brother of\nthat Centurion; also threatned him every day, and neverthelesse\nentertaind him still as one of the guards of his body, which was a rash\ncourse taken, and the way to destruction, as befell him. But let us come\nto Commodus for whom it was very easie to hold the Empire, by reason it\ndescended upon him by inheritance, being Marcus his sonne, and it had\nbeen enough for him to follow his fathers footsteps, and then had he\ncontented both the people and the soldiers: but being of a cruell and\nsavage disposition, whereby to exercise his actions upon the people, he\ngave himselfe to entertaine armies, and those in all licentiousnesse. On\nthe other part not maintaining his dignity, but often descending upon\nthe stages to combate with fencers, and doing such other like base\nthings, little worthy of the Imperiall majesty, he became contemptible\nin the soldiers sight; and being hated of one part, and despisd of the\nother, he was conspird against, and slaine. It remaines now, that we\ndeclare Maximinus his conditions, who was a very warlike man; and the\narmies loathing Alexanders effeminacy, whereof I spake before, when they\nhad slain him, chose this man Emperour, who not long continued so,\nbecause two things there were that brought him into hatred and contempt;\nthe one because he was very base, having kept cattell in Thrace, which\nwas well knowne to every one, and made them to scorne him; the other,\nbecause in the beginning of his Principality having delayd to goe to\nRome, and enter into possession of the Imperiall throne, he had gaind\nthe infamy of being thought exceeding cruell, having by his Prefects in\nRome, and in every place of the Empire, exercisd many cruelties,\ninsomuch that the whole world being provok'd against him to contempt for\nthe basenesse of his blood; on the other side upon the hatred conceiv'd\nagainst him for feare of his crulty; first Affrica, afterwards the\nSenate, with all the people of Rome and all Italy, conspired against\nhim, with whom his own army took part; which incamping before Aquileya,\nand finding some difficulty to take the town, being weary of his\ncruelties, and because they saw he had so many enemies, fearing him the\nlesse, slew him. I purpose not to say any thing either of Heliogabalus,\nMacrinus, or Julian, who because they were throughly base, were sudenly\nextinguished: but I will come to the conclusion of this discourse; and I\nsay, that the Princes of our times have lesse of this difficulty to\nsatisfie the Soldiers extraordinarily in their government; for\nnotwithstanding that there be some considerations to be had of them, yet\npresently are those armies dissolved, because none of these Princes do\nuse to maintaine any armies together, which are annex'd and inveterated\nwith the governments of the provinces, as were the armies of the Romane\nEmpire. And therefore if then it was necessary rather to content the\nsoldiers than the people, it was because the soldiers were more\npowerfull than the people: now is it more necessary for all Princes,\n(except the Turk and the Souldan) to satisfie their people than their\nsoldiers, because the people are more mighty than they; wherein I except\nthe Turk, he alwayes maintaining about his person 12000 foot, and 15000\nhorse, upon which depends the safety and strength of his Kingdome; and\nit is necessary that laying aside all other regard of his people, he\nmaintaine these his friends. The Souldans Kingdome is like hereunto,\nwhich being wholy in the souldiers power, he must also without respect\nof his people keep them his friends. And you are to consider, that this\nState of the Souldans differs much from all the other Principalities:\nFor it is very like the Papacy, which cannot be termd an hereditary\nPrincipality: nor a new Principality: for the sons of the deceasd Prince\nare not heires and Lords thereof, but he that is chosen receives that\ndignity from those who have the authority in them. And this order being\nof antiquity, cannot be termd a new Principality, because therein are\nnone of those difficulties that are in new ones: for though the Prince\nbe new, yet are the orders of that state ancient, and ordaind to receive\nhim, as if he were their hereditary Prince. But let us returne to our\nmatter; whosoever shall consider our discourse before, shall perceive\nthat either hatred, or contempt have caus'd the ruine of the afore-named\nEmperors; and shall know also, from it came that part of them proceeding\none way, and part a contrary; yet in any of them the one had a happy\nsuccess, and the others unhappy: for it was of no availe, but rather\nhurtful for Pertinax and Alexander, because they were new Princes, to\ndesire to imitate Marcus, who by inheritance came to the Principality:\nand in like manner it was a wrong to Caracalla, Commodus, and Maximus,\nto imitate Severus, because none of them were endued with so great valor\nas to follow his steps therein. Wherefore a new Prince in his\nPrincipality cannot well imitate Marcus his actions; nor yet is it\nnecessary to follow those of Severus: but he ought make choyce of those\nparts in Severus which are necessary for the founding of a State; and to\ntake from Marcus those that are fit and glorious to preserve a State\nwhich is already established and setled.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. XX\n\nWhether the Citadels and many other things which Princes often make use\nof, are profitable or dammageable.\n\n\nSome Princes, whereby they might safely keep their State, have disarmed\ntheir subjects; some others have held the towns under their dominion,\ndivided into factions; others have maintain'd enmities against\nthemselves; others have appli'd themselves to gain them, where they have\nsuspected at their entrance into the government; others have built\nFortresses; and others again have ruined and demolished them: and\nhowever that upon all these things, a man cannot well pass a determinate\nsentence, unless one comes to the particulars of these States, where\nsome such like determinations were to be taken; yet I shall speak of\nthem in so large a manner, as the matter of it self will bear. It was\nnever then that a new Prince would disarme his own subjects; but rather\nwhen he hath found them disarmed, he hath alwaies arm'd them. For being\nbelov'd, those armes become thine; those become faithful, which thou\nhadst in suspicion; and those which were faithful, are maintaind so; and\nthy subjects are made thy partisans; and because all thy subjects cannot\nbe put in armes, when thou bestowest favors on those thou armest, with\nthe others thou canst deal more for thy safety; and that difference of\nproceeding which they know among them, obliges them to thee; those\nothers excuse thee, judgeing it necessary that they have deservd more,\nwho have undergone more danger, and so have greater obligation: but when\nthou disarmst them, thou beginst to offend them, that thou distrustest\nthem, either for cowardise, or small faith; and the one or the other of\nthose two opinions provokes their hatred against thee; and because thou\ncanst not stand disarmed, thou must then turn thy self to mercenary\nSoldiery, whereof we have formerly spoken what it is, and when it is\ngood; it can never be so much as to defend thee from powerful enemies,\nand suspected subjects; therefore as I have said, a new Prince in a new\nPrincipality hath alwaies ordaind them armes. Of examples to this\npurpose, Histories are full. But when a Prince gains a new State, which\nas a member he adds to his ancient dominions, then it is necessary to\ndisarme that State, unless it be those whom thou hast discoverd to have\nassisted thee in the conquest thereof; and these also in time and upon\noccasions, it is necessary to render delicate and effeminate, and so\norder them, that all the arms of thy State be in the hands of thy own\nSoldiers, who live in thy ancient State near unto thee. Our ancestors\nand they that were accounted Sages, were wont to say that it was\nnecessary to hold Pistoya in factions, and Pisa with Fortresses; and for\nthis cause maintaind some towns subject to them in differences, whereby\nto hold it more easily. This, at what time Italy was ballanc'd in a\ncertain manner, might be well done; but mee thinks it cannot now a dayes\nbe well given for a precept; for I do not beleeve, that divisions made\ncan do any good; rather it must needs be, that when the enemy approaches\nthem, Cities divided are presently lost; for alwaies the weaker part\nwill cleave to the forrein power, and the other not be able to subsist.\nThe Venetians (as I think) mov'd by the aforesaid reasons, maintaind the\nfactions of the Guelfes and Gibellins, in their townes; and however they\nnever suffered them to spill one anothers blood, yet they nourish'd\nthese differences among them, to the end that the citizens imployd in\nthese quarrels, should not plot any thing against them: which as it\nproved, never serv'd them to any great purpose: for being defeated at\nVayla, presently one of those two factions took courage and seizd upon\ntheir whole State. Therefore such like waies argue the Princes weakness;\nfor in a strong principality they never will suffer such divisions; for\nthey shew them some kind of profit in time of peace, being they are able\nby means thereof more easily to mannage their subjects: but war comming,\nsuch like orders discover their fallacy. Without doubt, Princes become\ngreat, when they overcome the difficulties and oppositions that are made\nagainst them; and therefore Fortune especially when she hath to make any\nnew Prince great, who hath more need to gain reputation than an\nhereditary Prince, causes enemies to rise against him, and him to\nundertake against them: to the end he may have occasion to master them,\nand know that ladder, which his enemies have set him upon, whereby to\nrise yet higher. And therefore many think, that a wise Prince when he\nhath the occasion, ought cunningly to nourish some enmity, that by the\nsuppressing thereof, his greatness may grow thereupon. Princes,\nespecially those that are new, have found more faith and profit in those\nmen, who in the beginning of their State, have been held suspected, than\nin those who at their entrance have been their confidents. Pandulphus\nPetrucci, Prince of Siena, governd his State, more with them that had\nbeen suspected by him, than with the others. But of this matter we\ncannot speak at large, because it varies according to the subject; I\nwill only say this, that those men, who in the beginning of a\nPrincipality were once enemies, if they be of quality so that to\nmaintain themselves they have need of support, the Prince might alwaies\nwith the greatest facility gain for his; and they are the rather forced\nto serve him faithfully, insomuch as they know it is more necessary for\nthem by their deeds to cancel that sinister opinion, which was once held\nof them; and so the Prince ever draws from these more advantage, than\nfrom those, who serving him too supinely, neglect his affairs. And seing\nthe matter requires it, I will not omit to put a Prince in mind, who\nhath anew made himself master of a State, by means of the inward helps\nhe had from thence that he consider well the cause that mov'd them that\nfavor'd him to favor him, if it be not a natural affection towards him;\nfor if it be only because they were not content with their former\ngovernment, with much pains and difficulties shall he be able to keep\nthem long his friends, because it will be impossible for him to content\nthem. By these examples then which are drawn out of ancient and modern\naffaires, searching into the cause hereof, we shall find it much more\neasie to gain those men for friends, who formerly were contented with\nthe State, and therefore were his enemies: than those, who because they\nwere not contented therewith, became his fiends, and favor'd him in\ngetting the mastery of it. It hath been the custome of Princes, whereby\nto hold their States more securely, to build Citadels, which might be\nbridles and curbs to those that should purpose any thing against them,\nand so to have a secure retreat from the first violences. I commend this\ncourse, because it hath been used of old; notwithstanding Nicholas\nVitelli in our dayes hath been known to demolish two Citadels in the\ntown of Castello, the better to keep the State; Guidubaldo Duke of Urbin\nbeing to return into his State, out of which he was driven by Caesar\nBorgia, raz'd all the Fortresses of that Countrey, and thought he should\nhardlyer lose that State again without them. The Bentivolii returning\ninto Bolonia, used the like courses. Citadels then are profitable, or\nnot, according to the times; and if they advantage thee in one part,\nthey do thee harme in another; and this part may be argued thus. That\nPrince who stands more in fear of his own people than of strangers,\nought to build Fortresses: but he that is more afraid of strangers than\nof his people, should let them alone. Against the house of Sforza, the\nCastle of Milan, which Francis Sforza built, hath and will make more\nwar, than any other disorder in that State: and therefore the best\nCitadel that may be, is not to incurre the peoples hatred; for however\nthou holdest a Fortress, and the people hate thee, thou canst hardly\nscape them; for people, when once they have taken armes, never want the\nhelp of strangers at their need to take ther parts. In our dayes we\nnever saw that they ever profited any Prince, unless it were the\nCountess of Furli, when Count Hieronymo of Furli her husband was slain;\nfor by means thereof she escap'd the peoples rage, and attended aid from\nMilan, and so recover'd her State: and then such were the times that the\nstranger could not assist the people: but afterwards they serv'd her to\nlittle purpose, when Caesar Borgia assaild her, and that the people which\nwas her enemy, sided with the stranger. Therefore both then, and at\nfirst, it would have been more for her safety, not to have been odious\nto the people, than to have held the Fortresses. These things being well\nweigh'd then, I will commend those that shall build up Fortresses, and\nhim also that shall not; and I will blame him, howsoever he be, that\nrelying upon those, shall make small account of being hated by his\npeople.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. XXI\n\nHow a Prince ought to behave himself to gain reputation.\n\n\nThere is nothing gains a Prince such repute as great exploits, and rare\ntryals of himself in Heroick actions. We have now in our dayes Ferdinand\nKing of Arragon the present King of Spain: he in a manner may be termed\na new Prince; for from a very weak King, he is now become for fame and\nglory, the first King of Christendome, and if you shall wel consider his\nactions, you shall find them all illustrious, and every one of them\nextraordinary. He in the beginning of his reign assaild Granada, and\nthat exploit was the ground of his State. At first he made that war in\nsecurity, and without suspicion he should be any waies hindred, and\ntherein held the Barons of Castiglias minds busied, who thinking upon\nthat war, never minded any innovation; in this while he gaind credit and\nauthority with them, they not being aware of it; was able to maintain\nwith the Church and the peoples money all his soldiers, and to lay a\nfoundation for his military ordinances with that long war, which\nafterwards gaind him exceeding much honor. Besides this, to the end he\nmight be able hereamong to undertake greater matters, serving himself\nalwaies of the colour of religion, he gave himself to a kind of\nreligious cruelty, chasing and dispoyling those Jewes out of the\nKingdome; nor can this example be more admirable and rare: under the\nsame cloke he invaded Affrick and went through with his exploit in\nItaly: and last of all hath he assaild France, and so alwaies proceeded\non forwards contriving of great matters, which alwaies have held his\nsubjects minds in peace and admiration, and busied in attending the\nevent, what it should be: and these his actions have thus grown, one\nupon another, that they have never given leisure to men so to rest, as\nthey might ever plot any thing against them. Moreover it much avails a\nPrince to give extraordinary proofes of himself touching the government\nwithin, such as those we have heard of Bernard of Milan, whensoever\noccasion is given by any one, that may effectuate some great thing\neither of good or evil, in the civil government; and to find out some\nway either to reward or punish it, whereof in the world much notice may\nbe taken. And above all things a Prince ought to endeavor in all his\nactions to spread abroad a fame of his magnificence and worthiness. A\nPrince also is well esteemed, when he is a true friend, or a true enemy;\nwhen without any regard he discovers himself in favor of one against\nanother; which course shall be alwaies more profit, than to stand\nneuter: for if two mighty ones that are thy neighbors, come to fall out,\nor are of such quality, that one of them vanquishing, thou art like to\nbe in fear of the vanquisher, or not; in either of these two cases, it\nwill ever prove more for thy profit, to discover thy self, and make a\ngood war of it: for in the first case, if thou discoverest not thy\nselfe, thou shalt alwaies be a prey to him that overcomes, to the\ncontentment and satisfaction of the vanquisht; neither shalt thou have\nreason on thy side, nor any thing else to defend or receive thee. For he\nthat overcomes, will not have any suspected friends that give him no\nassistance in his necessity: and he that loses, receives thee not,\nbecause thou wouldest not with thy armes in hand run the hazzard of his\nfortune. Antiochus passed into Greece, thereunto induc'd by the\nEtolians, to chace the Romans thence: and sent his Ambassadors to the\nAchayans, who were the Romans friends, to perswade them to stand\nneuters; on the other side the Romans moved them to joyne armes with\ntheirs: this matter came to be deliberated on in the council of the\nAchayans, where Antiochus his Ambassador encouraged them to stand\nneuters, whereunto the Romans Ambassador answerd; Touching the course,\nthat is commended to you, as best and profitablest for your State, to\nwit, not to intermeddle in the war between us, nothing can be more\nagainst you: because, not taking either part, you shall remain without\nthanks, and without reputation a prey to the conqueror. And it will\nalwaies come to pass that he who is not thy friend, will requite thy\nneutrality; and he that is thy friend, will urge thee to discover thy\nself by taking arms for him: and evil advised Princes; to avoyd the\npresent dangers, folow often times that way of neutrality, and most\ncommonly go to ruine: but when a Prince discovers himself strongly in\nfavor of a party; if he to whom thou cleavest, overcomes; however that\nhe be puissant, and thou remainest at his disposing, he is oblig'd to\nthee, and there is a contract of friendship made; and men are never so\nopenly dishonest, as with such a notorious example of dishonesty to\noppress thee. Besides victories are never so prosperous, that the\nconqueror is like neglect all respects, and especially of justice. But\nif he to whom thou stickst, loses, thou art received by him; and, while\nhe is able, he aydes thee, and so thou becomest partner of a fortune\nthat may arise again; the second case, when they that enter into the\nlists together, are of such quality, that thou needest not fear him that\nvanquisheth, so much the more is it discretion in thee to stick to him;\nfor thou goest to ruine one with his assistance, who ought to do the\nbest he could to save him, if he were well advised; and he overcomming,\nis left at thy discretion; and it is unpossible but with thy ayd he must\novercome. And here it is to be noted, that a Prince should be well aware\nnever to joyn with any one more powerfull than himself, to offend\nanother, unless upon necessity, as formerly is said. For when he\novercomes, thou art left at his discretion, and Princes ought avoid as\nmuch as they are able, to stand at anothers discretion. The Venetians\ntook part with France against the Duke of Milan, and yet could have\navoided that partaking, from which proceeded their ruine. But when it\ncannot be avoyded, as it befel the Florentines when the Pope and the\nKing of Spain went both with their armies to Lombardy, there the Prince\nought to side with them for the reasons aforesaid. Nor let any State\nthink they are able to make such sure parties, but rather that they are\nall doubtfull; for in the order of things we find it alwaies, that\nwhensoever a man seeks to avoid one inconvenient, he incurs another. But\nthe principal point of judgement, is in discerning between the qualities\nof inconvenients, and not taking the bad for the good. Moreover a Prince\nought to shew himself a lover of vertue, and that he honors those that\nexcel in every Art. Afterwards ought he encourage his Citizens, whereby\nthey may be enabled quickly to exercise their faculties as well in\nmerchandise, and husbandry, as in any other kind of traffick, to the end\nthat no man forbear to adorne and cultivate his possessions for fear\nthat he be despoyled of them; or any other to open the commerce upon the\ndanger of heavy impositions: but rather to provide rewards for those\nthat shall set these matters afoot, or for any one else that shall any\nway amplifie his City or State. Besides he ought in the fit times of the\nyear entertain the people with Feasts and Maskes; and because every City\nis devided into Companies, and arts, and Tribes, he ought to take\nspecial notice of those bodies, and some times afford them a meeting,\nand give them some proof of his humanity, and magnificence; yet withall\nholding firme the majestie of his State; for this must never fail in any\ncase.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP.   XXII\n\nTouching Princes Secretaries.\n\n\nIt is no small importance to a Prince, the choyce he makes, of servants\nbeing ordinarily good or bad, as his wisdome is. And the first\nconjecture one gives of a great man, and of his understanding, is, upon\nthe sight of his followers and servants he hath about him, when they\nprove able and faithful, and then may he alwaies be reputed wise because\nhe hath known how to discern those that are able, and to keep them true\nto him. But when they are otherwise, there can be no good conjecture\nmade of him; for the first error he commits, is in this choyce. There\nwas no man that had any knowledge of Antonio of Vanafro, the servant of\nPandulfus Petrucci Prince of Sicily, who did not esteem Pandulfus for a\nvery discreet man, having him for his servant. And because there are\nthree kinds of understandings; the one that is advised by it self; the\nother that understands when it is informed by another; the third that\nneither is advised by it self nor by the demonstration of another; the\nfirst is best, the second is good, and the last quite unprofitable.\nTherefore it was of necessity, that if Pandulfus attaind not the first\ndegree, yet he got to the second; for whenever any one hath the\njudgement to discerne between the good and the evil, that he does and\nsayes, however that he hath not his distinction from himself, yet still\ncomes he to take notice of the good or evil actions of that servant; and\nthose he cherishes, and these he suppresses; insomuch that the servant\nfinding no means to deceive his master, keeps himself upright and\nhonest. But how a Prince may throughly understand his servant, here is\nthe way that never fails. When thou seest the servant study more for his\nown advantage than thine, and that in all his actions, he searches most\nafter his own profit; this man thus qualified, shall never prove good\nservant, nor canst thou ever relie upon him: for he that holds the\nSterne of the State in hand, ought never call home his cares to his own\nparticular, but give himself wholly over to his Princes service, nor\never put him in minde of any thing not appertaining to him. And on the\nother side the Prince to keep him good to him, ought to take a care for\nhis servant, honoring him, enriching, and obliging him to him, giving\nhim part both of dignities and offices, to the end that the many honors\nand much wealth bestowed on him, may restrain his desires from other\nhonors, and other wealth, and that those many charges cause him to fear\nchanges that may fall, knowing he is not able to stand without his\nmaster. And when both the Princes and the servants are thus disposed,\nthey may rely the one upon the other: when otherwise, the end will ever\nprove hurtfull for the one as well as for the other.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. XXIII\n\nThat Flatterers are to be avoyded.\n\n\nI will not omit one principle of great inportance, being an errour from\nwhich Princes with much difficulty defend themselves, unlesse they be\nvery discreet, and make a very good choice; and this is concerning\nflatterers; whereof all writings are full: and that because men please\nthemselves so much in their own things, and therein cozen themselves,\nthat very hardly can they escape this pestilence; and desiring to escape\nit, there is danger of falling into contempt; for there is no other way\nto be secure from flattery, but to let men know, that they displease\nthee not in telling thee truth: but when every one hath this leave, thou\nlosest thy reverence. Therefore ought a wise Prince take a third course,\nmaking choyce of some understanding men in his State, and give only to\nthem a free liberty of speaking to him the truth; and touching those\nthings only which he inquires of, and nothing else; but he ought to be\ninquisitive of every thing, and hear their opinions, and then afterwards\nadvise himself after his own manner; and in these deliberations, and\nwith every one of them so carrie himself, that they all know, that the\nmore freely they shall speak, the better they shall be liked of: and\nbesides those, not give eare to any one; and thus pursue the thing\nresolved on, and thence continue obstinate in the resolution taken. He\nwho does otherwise, either falls upon flatterers, or often changes upon\nthe varying of opinions, from whence proceeds it that men conceive but\nslightly of him. To this purpose I will alledge you a moderne example.\nPeter Lucas a servant of Maximilians the present Emperor, speaking of\nhis Majesty, said that he never advised with any body, nor never did any\nthing after his own way: which was because he took a contrary course to\nwhat we have now said: for the Emperor is a close man, who communicates\nhis secrets to none, nor takes counsel of any one; but as they come to\nbe put in practise, they begin to be discovered and known, and so\ncontradicted by those that are near about him; and he as being an easy\nman, is quickly wrought from them. Whence it comes that what he does to\nday, he undoes on the morrow; and that he never understands himself what\nhe would, nor what he purposes, and that there is no grounding upon any\nof his resolutions. A Prince therefore ought alwayes to take counsell,\nbut at his owne pleasure, and not at other mens; or rather should take\naway any mans courage to advise him of any thing, but what he askes: but\nhe ought well to aske at large, and then touching the things inquird of,\nbe a patient hearer of the truth; and perceiving that for some respect\nthe truth were conceald from him, be displeased thereat. And because\nsome men have thought that a Prince that gaines the opinion to bee wise,\nmay bee held so, not by his owne naturall indowments, but by the good\ncounsells he hath about him; without question they are deceivd; for this\nis a generall rule and never failes, that a Prince who of himselfe is\nnot wise, can never be well advised, unlesse he should light upon one\nalone, wholly to direct and govern him, who himself were a very wise\nman. In this case it is possible he may be well governd: but this would\nlast but little: for that governor in a short time would deprive him of\nhis State; but a Prince not having any parts of nature, being advised of\nmore then one, shall never be able to unite these counsels: of himself\nshall he never know how to unite them; and each one of the Counsellers,\nprobably will follow that which is most properly his owne; and he shall\nnever find the meanes to amend or discerne these things; nor can they\nfall out otherwise, because men alwayes prove mischievous, unlesse upon\nsome necessity they be forc'd to become good: we conclude therefore,\nthat counsells from whencesoever they proceed, must needs take their\nbeginning from the Princes wisdome, and not the wisdome of the Prince\nfrom good counsells.\n\n    In this Chapter our Authour prescribes some rules how to avoyd\n    flattery, and not to fall into contempt. The extent of these two\n    extreames is so large on both sides, that there is left but a\n    very narrow path for the right temper to walke between them\n    both: and happy were that Prince, who could light on so good a\n    Pilote as to bring him to Port between those rocks and those\n    quicksands. Where Majesty becomes familiar, unlesse endued with\n    a super-eminent vertue, it loses all awfull regards: as the\n    light of the Sunne, because so ordinary, because so common, we\n    should little value, were it not that all Creatures feele\n    themselves quickned by the rayes thereof. On the other side,\n    _Omnis insipiens arrogantia et plausibus capitur_, Every foole\n    is taken with his owne pride and others flatteryes: and this\n    foole keeps company so much with all great wise men, that hardly\n    with a candle and lantern can they be discernd betwixt. The\n    greatest men are more subject to grosse and palpable flatteries;\n    and especially the greatest of men, who are Kings and Princes:\n    for many seek the Rulers favour. _Prov._ 28. 26. For there are\n    divers meanes whereby private men are instructed; Princes have\n    not that good hap: but they whose instruction is of most\n    importance, so soone as they have taken the government upon\n    them, no longer suffer any reproovers: for but few have accesse\n    unto them, and they who familiary converse with them, doe and\n    say all for favour. Isocrat, to Nicocles, All are afraid to give\n    him occasion of displeasure, though by telling him truth. To\n    this purpose therefore sayes one; a Prince excells in learning\n    to ride the great horse, rather than in any other exercise,\n    because his horse being no flatterer, will shew him he makes no\n    difference between him and another man, and unlesse he keepe his\n    seate well, will lay him on the ground. This is plaine dealing.\n    Men are more subtile, more double-hearted, they have a heart and\n    a heart neither is their tongue their hearts true interpreter.\n    Counsell in the heart of man is like deepe waters; but a man of\n    understanding will draw it out. _Prov._ 20. 5. This\n    understanding is most requisite in a Prince, inasmuch as the\n    whole Globe is in his hand, and the inferiour Orbes are swayed\n    by the motion of the highest. And therefore surely it is the\n    honour of a King to search out such a secret: _Prov._ 25. 2. His\n    counsellours are his eyes and eares; as they ought to be dear to\n    him, so they ought to be true to him, and make him the true\n    report of things without disguise. If they prove false eyes, let\n    him pluck them out; he may as they use glasse eyes, take them\n    forth without paine, and see never a whit the worse for it. The\n    wisdome of a Princes Counsellours is a great argument of the\n    Princes wisdome. And being the choyce of them imports the\n    Princes credit and safety, our Authour will make him amends for\n    his other errours by his good advice in his 22 Chap. whether I\n    referre him.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. XXIV\n\nWherefore the Princes of Italy have lost their States.\n\n\nWhen these things above said are well observ'd, they make a new Prince\nseeme as if he had been of old, and presently render him more secure and\nfirme in the State, than if he had already grown ancient therein: for a\nnew Prince is much more observd in his action, than a Prince by\ninheritance; and when they are known to bee vertuous, men are much more\ngaind and oblig'd to them thereby, than by the antiquity of their blood:\nfor men are much more taken by things present, than by things past, and\nwhen in the present they find good, they content themselves therein, and\nseeke no further; or rather they undertake the defence of him to their\nutmost, when the Prince is not wanting in other matters to himself; and\nso shall he gaine double glory to have given a beginning to a new\nPrincipality, adornd, and strengthnd it with good lawes, good arms, good\nfriends, and good examples; as he shall have double shame, that is born\na Prince, and by reason of his small discretion hath lost it. And if we\nshall consider those Lords, that in Italy have lost their States in our\ndayes, as the King of Naples, the Duke of Milan, and others; first we\nshall find in them a common defect, touching their armes, for the\nreasons which have been above discoursd at length. Afterwards we shall\nsee some of them, that either shall have had the people for their\nenemies; or be it they had the people to friend, could never know how to\nassure themselves of the great ones: for without such defects as these,\nStates are not lost, which have so many nerves, that they are able to\nmaintaine an army in the feld. Philip of Macedon, not the father of\nAlexander the Great, but he that was vanquished by Titus Quintius, had\nnot much State in regard of the greatnesse of the Romanes and of Greece\nthat assail'd him; neverthelesse in that he was a warlike man and knew\nhow to entertaine the people, and assure himself of the Nobles, for many\nyeares he made the warre good against them: and though at last some town\nperhaps were taken from him, yet the Kingdome remaind in his hands\nstill. Wherefore these our Princes who for many yeares had continued in\ntheir Principalities, for having afterwards lost them, let them not\nblame Fortune, but their own sloth; because they never having thought\nduring the time of quiet, that they could suffer a change (which is the\ncommon fault of men, while faire weather lasts, not to provide for the\ntempest) when afterwards mischiefes came upon them, thought rather upon\nflying from them, than upon their defence, and hop'd that the people,\nweary of the vanquishers insolence, would recall them: which course when\nthe others faile, is good: but very ill is it to leave the other\nremedies for that: for a man wou'd never go to fall, beleeving another\nwould come to take him up: which may either not come to passe, or if it\ndoes, it is not for thy security, because that defence of his is vile,\nand depends not upon thee; but those defences only are good, certaine,\nand durable, which depend upon thy owne selfe, and thy owne vertues.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. XXV\n\nHow great power Fortune hath in humane affaires, and what meanes there\nis to resist it.\n\n\nIt is not unknown unto me, how that many have held opinion, and still\nhold it, that the affaires of the world are so governd by fortune, and\nby God, that men by their wisdome cannot amend or alter them; or rather\nthat there is no remedy for them: and hereupon they would think that it\nwere of no availe to take much paines in any thing, but leave all to be\ngovernd by chance. This opinion hath gain'd the more credit in our\ndayes, by reason of the great alteration of things, which we have of\nlate seen, and do every day see, beyond all humane conjecture: upon\nwhich, I sometimes thinking, am in some parte inclind to their opinion:\nneverthelesse not to extinguish quite our owne free will, I think it may\nbe true, that Fortune is the mistrisse of one halfe of our actions; but\nyet that she lets us have rule of the other half, or little lesse. And I\nliken her to a precipitous torrent, which when it rages, over-flows the\nplaines, overthrowes the trees, and buildings, removes the earth from\none side, and laies it on another, every one flyes before it, every one\nyeelds to the fury thereof, as unable to withstand it; and yet however\nit be thus, when the times are calmer, men are able to make provision\nagainst these excesses, with banks and fences so, that afterwards when\nit swels again, it shall all passe smoothly along, within its channell,\nor else the violence thereof shall not prove so licentious and hurtfull.\nIn like manner befals it us with fortune, which there shewes her power\nwhere vertue is not ordeind to resist her, and thither turnes she all\nher forces, where she perceives that no provisions nor resistances are\nmade to uphold her. And if you shall consider Italy, which is the seat\nof these changes, and that which hath given them their motions, you\nshall see it to be a plaine field, without any trench or bank; which had\nit been fenc'd with convenient vertue as was Germany, Spain or France;\nthis inundation would never have causd these great alterations it hath,\nor else would it not have reach'd to us: and this shall suffice to have\nsaid, touching the opposing of fortune in generall. But restraining my\nselfe more to particulars, I say that to day we see a Prince prosper and\nflourish and to morrow utterly go to ruine; not seeing that he hath\nalterd any condition or quality; which I beleeve arises first from the\ncauses which we have long since run over, that is because that Prince\nthat relies wholly upon fortune, runnes as her wheele turnes. I beleeve\nalso, that he proves the fortunate man, whose manner of proceeding meets\nwith the quality of the time; and so likewise he unfortunate from whose\ncourse of proceeding the times differ: for we see that men, in the\nthings that induce them to the end, (which every one propounds to\nhimselfe, as glory and riches) proceed therein diversly; some with\nrespects, others more bold, and rashly; one with violence, and th'other\nwith cunning; the one with patience, th'other with its contrary; and\nevery one of severall wayes may attaine thereto; we see also two very\nrespective and wary men, the one come to his purpose, and th'other not;\nand in like maner two equally prosper, taking divers course; the one\nbeing wary the other head-strong; which proceeds from nothing else, but\nfrom the quality of the times, which agree, or not, with their\nproceedings. From hence arises that which I said, that two working\ndiversly, produce the same effect: and two equaly working, the one\nattains his end, the other not. Hereupon depends the alteration of the\ngood; for if to one that behaves himself with warinesse and patience,\ntimes and affaires turne so favourably, that the carriage of his\nbusinesse prove well, he prospers; but if the times and affaires chance,\nhe is ruind, because he changes not his manner of proceeding: nor is\nthere any man so wise, that can frame himselfe hereunto; as well because\nhe cannot go out of the way, from that whereunto Nature inclines him: as\nalso, for that one having alwayes prosperd, walking such a way, cannot\nbe perswaded to leave it; and therefore the respective and wary man,\nwhen it is fit time for him to use violence and force, knows not how to\nput it in practice, whereupon he is ruind: but if he could change his\ndisposition with the times and the affaires, he should not change his\nfortune. Pope Julius the second proceeded in all his actions with very\ngreat violence, and found the times and things so conformable to that\nhis manner of proceeding that in all of them he had happy successe.\nConsider the first exploit he did at Bolonia, even while John Bentivolio\nlived: the Venetians were not well contented therewith; the King of\nSpaine likewise with the French, had treated of that enterprise; and\nnotwithstanding al this, he stirrd up by his own rage and fiercenesse,\npersonally undertook that expedition: which action of his put in\nsuspence and stopt Spaine and the Venetians; those for feare, and the\nothers for desire to recover the Kingdome of Naples; and on the other\npart drew after him the King of France; for that King seeing him already\nin motion, and desiring to hold him his friend, whereby to humble the\nVenetians, thought he could no way deny him his souldiers, without doing\nhim an open injury. Julius then effected that with his violent and heady\nmotion, which no other Pope with all humane wisdome could ever have\ndone; for if he had expected to part from Rome with his conclusions\nsettled, and all his affaires ordered before hand, as any other Pope\nwould have done, he had never brought it to passe: For the King of\nFrance would have devised a thousand excuses, and others would have put\nhim in as many feares. I will let passe his other actions, for all of\nthem were alike, and all of them prov'd lucky to him; and the brevity of\nhis life never sufferd him to feele the contrary: for had he litt upon\nsuch times afterwards, that it had been necessary for him to proceed\nwith respects, there had been his utter ruine; for he would never have\nleft those wayes, to which he had been naturally inclind. I conclude\nthen, fortune varying, and men continuing still obstinate to their own\nwayes, prove happy, while these accord together: and as they disagree,\nprove unhappy: and I think it true, that it is better to be heady than\nwary; because Fortune is a mistresse; and it is necessary, to keep her\nin obedience to ruffle and force her: and we see, that she suffers her\nself rather to be masterd by those, than by others that proceed coldly.\nAnd therefore, as a mistresse, shee is a friend to young men, because\nthey are lesse respective, more rough, and command her with more\nboldnesse.\n\n    I have considered the 25 Chapter, as representing me a full view\n    of humane policy and cunning: yet me thinks it cannot satisfie a\n    Christian in the causes of the good and bad successe of things.\n    The life of man is like a game at Tables; skill availes much I\n    grant, but that's not all: play thy game well, but that will not\n    winne: the chance thou throwest must accord with thy play.\n    Examine this; play never so surely, play never so probably,\n    unlesse the chance thou castest, lead thee forward to advantage,\n    all hazards are losses, and thy sure play leaves thee in the\n    lurch. The sum of this is set down in Ecclesiastes chap. 9. v.\n    11. The race is not to the swift, nor the battell to the strong:\n    neither yet bread to the wise, nor yet riches to men of\n    understanding, nor yet favour to men of skill; but time and\n    chance hapeneth to them all. Our cunning Author for all his\n    exact rules he delivere in his books, could not fence against\n    the despight of Fortune, as he complaines in his Epistle to this\n    booke. Nor that great example of policy, Duke Valentine, whome\n    our Author commends to Princes for his crafts-master, could so\n    ruffle or force his mistresse Fortune, that he could keep her in\n    obedience. Man can contribute no more to his actions than vertue\n    and wisdome: but the successe depends upon a power above. Surely\n    there is the finger of god; or as Prov. 16. v. 33. 'The lot is\n    cast into the lap, but the whole disposing thereof is of the\n    Lord.' It was not Josephs wisdome made all things thrive under\n    his hand; but because the Lord was with him; and that which he\n    did, the Lord made it to prosper, Gen. 39. Surely this is a\n    blessing proceeding from the divine providence, which beyond\n    humane capacity so cooperateth with the causes, as that their\n    effects prove answerable, and sometimes (that we may know there\n    is something above the ordinary causes) the success returns with\n    such a supereminency of worth, that it far exceeds the vertue of\n    the ordinary causes.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. XXVI\n\nAn Exhortation to free Italy from the Barbarians.\n\n\nHaving then weighed all things above discours'd, and devising with my\nself, whether at this present in Italy the time might serve to honor a\nnew Prince, and whether there were matter that might minister occasion\nto a wise and valorous Prince, to introduce such a forme, that might do\nhonor to him, and good to the whole generality of the people in the\ncountrey: me thinks so many things concurre in favor of a new Prince,\nthat I know not whether there were ever any time more proper for this\npurpose. And if as I said, it was necessary, desiring to see Moses his\nvertue, that the children of Israel should be inthrald in AEgypt; and to\nhave experience of the magnanimity of Cyrus his mind, that the Persians\nshould be oppress'd by the Medes; and to set forth the excellency of\nTheseus, that the Athenians should be dispersed; so at this present now\nwe are desirous to know the valor of an Italian spirit, it were\nnecessary Italy should be reduc'd to the same termes it is now in, and\nwere in more slavery than the Hebrews were; more subject than the\nPersians, more scatterd than the Athenians; without head, without order,\nbattered, pillaged, rent asunder, overrun, and had undergone all kind of\ndestruction. And however even in these later dayes, we have had some\nkind of shew of hope in some one, whereby we might have conjectur'd,\nthat he had been ordained for the deliverance hereof, yet it prov'd\nafterwards, that in the very height of all his actions he was curb'd by\nfortune, insomuch that this poore countrey remaining as it were without\nlife, attends still for him that shall heal her wounds, give an end to\nall those pillagings and sackings of Lombardy, to those robberies and\ntaxations of the Kingdome, and of Tuscany, and heal them of their soars,\nnow this long time gangren'd. We see how she makes her prayers to God,\nthat he send some one to redeem her from these Barbarous cruelties and\ninsolencies. We see her also wholly ready and disposed to follow any\ncolours, provided there be any one take them up. Nor do we see at this\npresent, that she can look for other, than your Illustrious Family, to\nbecome Cheiftain of this deliverance, which hath now by its own vertue\nand Fortune been so much exalted, and favored by God and the Church,\nwhereof it now holds the Principality: and this shall not be very hard\nfor you to do, if you shall call to mind the former actions, and lives\nof those that are above named. And though those men were very rare and\nadmirable, yet were they men, and every one of them began upon less\noccasion than this; for neither was their enterprize more just than\nthis, nor more easie; nor was God more their friend, than yours. Here is\nvery great justice: for that war is just, that is necessary; and those\narmes are religious, when there is no hope left otherwhere, but in them.\nHere is an exceeding good disposition thereto: nor can there be, where\nthere is a good disposition, a giant difficulty, provided that use be\nmade of those orders, which I propounded for aim and direction to you.\nBesides this, here we see extraordinary things without example effected\nby God; the sea was opened, a cloud guided the way, devotion poured\nforth the waters, and it rain'd down Manna; all these things have\nconcurred in your greatness, the rest is left for you to do. God will\nnot do every thing himself, that he may not take from us our free will,\nand of that glory that belongs to us. Neither is it a marvel, if any of\nthe aforenamed Italians have not been able to compass that, which we may\nhope your illustrious family shall: though in so many revolutions of\nItaly, and so many feats of war, it may seem that the whole military\nvertue therein be quite extinguisht; for this arises from that the\nancient orders thereof were not good; and there hath since been none\nthat hath known how to invent new ones. Nothing can so much honor a man\nrising anew, as new laws and new ordinances devised by him: these things\nwhen they have a good foundation given them, and contain in them their\ndue greatness, gain him reverence and admiration; and in Italy their\nwants not the matter wherein to introduce any forme. Here is great\nvertue in the members, were it not wanting in the heads. Consider in the\nsingle fights that have been, and duels, how much the Italians have\nexcel'd in their strength, activity and address; but when they come to\narmies, they appear not, and all proceeds from the weakness of the\nChieftaines; for they that understand the managing of these matters, are\nnot obeyed; and every one presumes to understand; hitherto there having\nnot been any one so highly raised either by fortune or vertue, as that\nothers would submit unto him. From hence proceeds it, that in so long\ntime, and in so many battels fought for these last past 20 years, when\nthere hath been an army wholly Italian, it alwaies hath had evil\nsuccess; whereof the river Tarus first was witness, afterwards\nAlexandria, Capua, Genua, Vayla, Bolonia, Mestri. Your Illustrious\nfamily then being desirous to tread the footsteps of these Worthyes who\nredeem'd their countreys, must above all things as the very foundation\nof the whole fabrick, be furnished with soldiers of your own natives:\nbecause you cannot have more faithful, true, nor better soldiers; and\nthough every one of them be good, all together they will become better\nwhen they shall find themselves entertained, commanded, and honored by\ntheir own Prince. Wherefore it is necessary to provide for those armes,\nwhereby to be able with the Italian valor to make a defence against\nforreiners. And however the Swisse infantry and Spanish be accounted\nterrible; yet is there defect in both of them, by which a third order\nmight not only oppose them, but may be confident to vanquish them: for\nthe Spaniards are not able to indure the Horse, and the Swisse are to\nfeare the foot, when they incounter with them, as resolute in the fight\nas they; whereupon it hath been seen, and upon experience shall be\ncertain, that the Spaniards are not able to beare up against the French\nCavalery, and the Swisses have been routed by the Spanish Foot. And\nthough touching this last, there hath not been any entire experience\nhad, yet was there some proof thereof given in the battel of Ravenna,\nwhen the Spanish Foot affronted the Dutch battalions, which keep the\nsame rank the Swisses do, where the Spaniards with their nimbleness of\nbody, and the help of their targets entred in under their Pikes, and\nthere stood safe to offend them, the Dutch men having no remedy: and had\nit not been for the Cavalery that rusht in upon them, they had quite\ndefeated them. There may then (the defect of the one and other of these\ntwo infantries being discoverd) another kind of them be anew ordained,\nwhich may be able to make resistance against the Horse, and not fear the\nFoot, which shall not be a new sort of armes, but change of orders. And\nthese are some of those things which ordained a new, gain reputation and\ngreatness to a new Prince. Therefore this occasion should not be let\npass, to the end that Italy after so long a time may see some one\nredeemer of hers appear. Nor can I express with what dearness of\naffection he would be received in all those countreys which have\nsuffered by those forrein scums, with what thirst of revenge, with what\nresolution of fidelity, with what piety, with what tears. Would any\ngates be shut again him? Any people deny him obedience? Any envy oppose\nhim? Would not every Italian fully consent with him? This government of\nthe Barbarians stinks in every ones nostrils. Let your Illustrious\nFamily then undertake this worthy exployt with that courage and those\nhopes wherewith such just actions are to be attempted; to the end that\nunder your colours, this countrey may be enabled, and under the\nprotection of your fortune that saying of Petrarch be verifyed.\n\n  _Virtu contr' al fuore\n  Prendera l'arme, e fia il combatter corto:\n  Che l'antico valore\n  Ne gli Italici cor non e morto._\n\n  Vertue against fury shall advance the fight,\n  And it i' th' combate soon shall put to flight:\n  For th' old Roman valor is not dead,\n  Nor in th' Italians brests extinguished.\n\nFINIS","title":"Machiavelli, Volume I","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":130978}