Charles VIII., of France, was the second Attila, who headed an inroad of barbarians, from whose gripe on some part of her body, soft Italy has never since been able to shake herself free. That ambitious Prince undertook to make good certain old standing genealogical claims to the sovereignty of Naples, long since advanced by France; and marched into Italy with an army for that purpose in the summer of 1494. It would lead us too far away into the great high-road of the history of that time, if we were to attempt to trace an intelligible picture of the dissensions and jealousies among the princes of Italy, which made that moment appear peculiarly opportune for the prosecution of his claims. We have only to deal with the immediate result of the great calamity to Forlì and its Countess. Those rich alluvial flats of Romagna were capital fighting ground, and lay besides just on the high road of the French troops southwards. And on the 18th of August the main body of the Neapolitan troops were at Cesena, about twelve miles to the south; and five days later the French troops were at Bologna, some thirty miles to the north of Forlì. The little state found itself in a sufficiently dangerous position under any circumstances. But the situation was rendered yet more difficult by the necessity of taking one or the other side, when there were strong reasons for taking neither. The Duke of Milan, Catherine's brother, and her uncle "Ludovico il Moro," who, in fact, held the power of Milan in his hands, were allies of the French king. On the other hand, the Pope had allied himself with the King of Naples; and Forlì was held as a fief of the Church; and all Catherine's sympathies, and her Riario connections,—among whom were two cardinals high in the confidence of the Pontiff,—drew her towards the party taken by the court of Rome. The decision was difficult; and Catherine was long in deciding. Repeated embassies were seen in those days arriving from the hostile camps, and departing without having obtained the promise they wished. Meantime, Madama was busily engaged in preparing, as best she might, for the storm which was sure to burst over Forlì, whichever side she might decide on supporting. Men were sent throughout the whole territory warning the peasants of the plains to leave their homes, and betake themselves[126] with such property as was moveable to places of safety. The time of vintage was close at hand, and it was hard to leave the fruit of the year's labour to be gathered by others. But to have remained would only have been to lose all that might have been moved, and probably life itself, as well as that which they were compelled to leave behind them. So, throughout the length and breadth of the plains around Forlì, long trains of the cultivators of the soil, with their families and cattle, might be seen moving into the shelter of the over-crowded cities, or towards the comparatively safe recesses of the Apennine.