treat his brave men well; for the day was at
hand when he would need them and all their bravery. It was in the duchy
of Parma, near the town of Fornovo, on the right bank of the Taro, an
affluent of the Po, that the French and Italian armies met, on the 5th of
July, 1495. The French army was nine or ten thousand strong, with five
or six thousand camp followers, servants or drivers; the Italian army
numbered at least thirty thousand men, well supplied and well rested,
whereas the French were fatigued with their long march, and very badly
off for supplies. During the night between the 5th and 6th of July, a
violent storm burst over the country, "rain, lightnings, and thunder so
mighty," says Commynes, "that none could say more; seemed that heaven and
earth would dissolve, or that it portended some great disaster to come."
Next day, at six in the morning, Charles VIII. heard mass, received the
communion, mounted on horseback, and set out to join his own division.
"I went to him," says Commynes, "and found him armed at all points, and
mounted upon the finest horse I had ever seen in my life, called Savoy;
Duke Charles of Savoy (the Duchess of Savoy,? v. p. 288) had given it
him; it was black, and had but one eye; it was a middle-sized horse, of
good height for him who was upon it. Seemed that this young man was
quite other than either his nature, his stature, or his complexion
bespoke him, for he was very timid in speaking, and is so to this day.
That horse made him look tall; and he had a good countenance, and of good
color, and speech bold and sensible." On perceiving Commynes, the king
said to him, "Go and see if yonder folks would fain parley." "Sir,"
answered Commynes, "I will do so willingly; but I never saw two so great
hosts so near to one another, and yet go their ways without fighting."
He went, nevertheless, to the Venetian advanced posts, and his trumpeter
was admitted to the presence of the Marquis of Mantua, who commanded the
Italian army; but skirmishing had already commenced in all quarters, and
the first boom of the cannon was heard just as the marquis was reading
Commynes' letter. "It is too late to speak of peace," said he; and the
trumpeter was sent back. The king had joined the division which he was
to lead to battle. "Gentlemen," said he to the men-at-arms who pressed
around him, "you will live or die here with me, will you not?" And then
raising his voice that he might be heard by the troops,