ship of Peter tossing in danger on the threatening waves, the condition of the Church filled him with sorrow. As quick as possible he gathered an army and sent it to the aid of the Papal troops, who since winter had lingered in Middle Italy. Full of valor and skilled in military science, they approached Ravenna by forced marches. But the French tyrant also sent out a strong force to meet the Spaniards and their allies, the Venetians."

"When the enemy came in sight, the Spaniards did not decline battle. They had with them an engineer, possessed of the talent of an Archimedes and a Dædalus. He had invented light sickle-wagons, on each of which stood a small mortar. These they pushed before them. The French army was commanded by the Grandmaitre.² In front he placed the Swabian landsknechts; behind these the Gascons, and a large body of cavalry, on the wings. The most select of these, himself at their head, formed the corps of observation. At the signal of battle, a shower of red-hot balls was discharged by the Spanish army. The landsknechts were startled. 'Why do ye stand?'--the French marshal is said to have cried out. 'Will ye wait to be shot down? O that I had the brave Confederates with me yet!--they who at the sight of any enemy roared like raging lions, fell on him, and pressed into him! Forwards! Whip them, whom you have often whipped before! Set your swords and halberds against the balls!' The landsknechts begin to advance. And now, the Spaniards put fire to the old wheeled-wagons, and, sheltered by them, press on against the centre. A terrific melee ensues. From sheer fatigue they must often rest and repair their broken ranks. The battle lasts from morning till evening. Already the greater part of the landknechts are killed, and the rest fly. The cavalry also, and the Gascons waver. Eight thousand victims cover the field. The Grandmaitre looks toward heaven, gnashes his teeth, and cries out, 'The victory of the Spaniards shall not be bloodless, or I die this day.' He puts spurs to his horse. His trusty followers come after. Bravely fighting he falls. But the enemy, who expected no new attack, are thrown into disorder. The French again press forward, conquer, and take possession of the city. Night only ends the conflict. Hannibal, after the victory at Cannæ, spread no greater terror over Rome and Italy. The fear of the French rule produced universal lamentation. Comfort and assistance were begged for on all sides. The Confederates, in view of this state of things, think, what a dangerous example it would be, if such a raging tyrant were allowed to make war on the Common Mother of all faithful Christians. They quickly assemble and resolve with zeal, to put the affairs of the Church and of Italy into a better condition. A legate of the cardinal (Schinner) makes his appearance, begging and imploring them by their treaty-obligations to set out at once; yet he can offer no more than a gold-florin to the man. It is scarcely credible; but in six days, notwithstanding, 20,000 chosen infantry are brought together, who immediately rush through Graubunden, over the Adige, and down the narrow defiles to Verona, then in the possession of the landsknechts and the Gascons. On the approach of the Confederates they evacuate the city. The Cardinal again appears in the Swiss army and is received with many marks of honor. Intelligence reaches us from the Venetians; who soon come up with 800 mail-clad troopers and 500 light-horse. Full of glad anticipation they behold the imposing array of the Confederates. We advance to a river³ (whose name I have not learned) on the other side of which the powerful French army stands strongly intrenched. The bridge, behind which Valleggio lies, was defended by three massive towers. The artillery of the Venetians compels the French to fall back. They take with them what provision they can raise. The army advances to Pontevico, where the enemy again makes a momentary stand. Here a castle is built in the middle of the bridge,⁴ up to which point it had been broken down. In the presence of the foe, but under the protection of the Venetian cannon, a number of volunteers swim over and fetch back the boats, which had been carried to the other side. A bridge is quickly constructed. But by the time the army crossed over, the Frenchmen are in full flight. Only a few shots from the field-pieces are sent after them. Conscious that the state of their affairs is desperate, deprived of the support of the Germans, knowing the enemy with whom they have to deal, believing themselves secure no where, they take refuge in Pavia and await the result. The boldest of the Confederate youth had cut off from them a considerable herd of cattle, on which the army could have subsisted for a long time. Ulric von Sax, leader of the Confederates, just as prudent as he was active, resolves to besiege Pavia for a while, because he thinks it not yet advisable to take it by storm. The French still endeavor to prevent a passage over the Po.⁵ Here an incident happens almost as incredible as it is amusing. In the French camp were 800 landsknechts, survivors of the defeat at Ravenna. Some of our men swim over the Po, in order to take measures for the fastening of a bridge. The landsknechts sally out to prevent this. All the youth of the Confederate army, skilled in swimming, running, jumping, cast off their clothes and, halberd in hand, leap into the Po, to fight with enemies, of whom they say, 'Would that God had given us such for a daily exercise in the art of war.' In fact, they raised a warlike laugh as often as they caught a glimpse of the landsknechts, not because they esteemed them cowardly and despicable antagonists, but because they were found by them on the side of the enemy and beaten oftener than they conquered. Although the landsknechts saw the naked, white bodies, they still fled, giving a free passage over the river. The Confederates now marched on to Pavia, which was surrounded and taken in a few days in the following manner. Some single combats had preceded. Six Frenchmen had called out four confederates and were killed. Two others challenged a chamois-hunter from the Canton of Glarus. This pleased him. One he shot down with his gun; the other he attacked with the sword. The French, trusting the walls as little as their courage, meditate flight and wish to cover it by the landsknechts, whom they address thus, 'You see, brave comrades, be it chance or be it fate, the luck of war has forsaken France. We must think of retreat, if we cannot count on victory. Our camp is full of despair. Your former boldness must expect to-day the most illustrious trial. Act up to your reputation! We, the heavy and the light armed, will occupy that part of the city, which stretches along the Mincio,⁶ before the enemy presses in there and cuts off the way of escape. Thus will we secure the safety of all. If we cannot conquer now, we must try to keep our lives to do it hereafter, as Demosthenes says. So that no one may suspect us of treachery we leave with you the artillery, the pledge of our hope.' The credulous foot-soldiers