But as usual the pretensions of Maximilian outran his abilities to a ludicrous extent. The Venetians, fearing his designs on Friuli, refused him free passage, and enforced their refusal by arms. His attempt on Vicenza failed. The Duke of Gueldres, stirred up by Louis XII., threatened the Netherlands, and the would-be ruler of Western Europe was forced to accept the terms of the insolent republic and retire. Burning to revenge himself, he pocketed his pride, and at Cambray, December 1508, came to terms with Louis XII. Peace was made with the Duke of Gueldres, and Maximilian promised, in return for money, the investiture of Milan to Louis XII. and his descendants. Their quarrels thus accommodated, the King and Emperor agreed to partition the Venetian territory. All princes who had any claims on Venetian lands were asked to aid in checking her intolerable selfishness and greed by recovering their lost possessions. Ferdinand and the Pope shortly joined, the latter with some misgivings, and only after Venice had refused to restore to him Rimini and Faenza; a number of petty Italian princes followed suit, and Venice found herself face to face with one of the most shameful of coalitions in history. Ferdinand, however, was engaged in wars against the Moors of Africa. The penniless Maximilian was not ready for a fresh campaign; and the French, and papal troops, assisted by the Duke of Ferrara and other Italians, alone took the field. | Battle of Agnadello or Vaila. May 14, 1509. The wisest policy for Venice would probably have been, as Pitigliano urged, to avoid pitched battles, and to play a waiting game. If the war were prolonged, the robbers would be sure to quarrel. But rasher counsels prevailed. Neglecting the movement of the papal troops in the Romagna, the Venetians turned against the French and attempted to stop their attack at the frontier. As the two armies were manœuvring in the valley of the Adda, it came about that the rear-guard of the Venetian army, under Bartolomeo d’Alviano, came within striking distance of the French advanced guard. Alviano, a condottier with more valour than discretion, thought it more honourable to be beaten than to retreat, and at once ordered the attack. The Venetian army was a curious medley of Italian condottiers and peasants, Greek light horse from the Peloponnese and the Ægean isles, and half-savage archers from Crete. Nevertheless it fought well, more especially the Italian infantry, composed of peasants from the Lombard plain and the slopes of the Alps and Apennines. But it was exposed to the attack of the whole French army, aided by a large body of Swiss. The van, under the Count of Pitigliano, whether from jealousy, or because it was too far distant, did not co-operate; and, after a desperate struggle, the Venetian army turned and fled, leaving Alviano a prisoner, and most of their infantry dead on the field. As is often the case with mercenaries, the defeated army soon became a mob. The cities refused