Frescobaldi was not destined to depart from the footsteps of such illustrious predecessors; desiring to pursue further the studies for which he had acquired a taste from Milleville, he, too, set out for Flanders while still young.[9] The exact date of that journey has never been determined; it seems probable that it was in the year 1607. For in that year Cardinal Guido Bentivoglio, archbishop of Rhodes and legate of Pope Paul V., was sent to the Netherlands (Guido Bentivoglio was born at Ferrara in 1579); and, moreover, on January 10, 1608, Frescobaldi dedicated to him one of his finest works, a collection of five-part madrigals, which was published by Peter Phalesius in Antwerp. Again, it would not be strange if Frescobaldi, in 1607, had followed to another country a compatriot whom he regarded as his protector. According to Fétis (preface to _Trésor des Pianistes_, by Farrenc), Frescobaldi occupied from this time the position of organist at the Church of St.-Rombaut, in Malines. [Footnote 9: Peter Phillipps and Peter Cornet were the best-known organists in the Netherlands. One may judge of their works by the excerpts in G.A. Ritter's _Geschichte des Orgelspiels_ (Leipzig, 1884), Nos. 28, 30, 31, and 32 (2d part).] But he did not retain this position long, for in 1608 we find him again in Milan. From this time the events of his life are unknown until 1614, when upon the death of Ercole Pasquini, organist of St. Peter's in Rome, Frescobaldi became his successor. If we may believe Abbé Baini, the fame of Frescobaldi was already so widespread that upon the day when he assumed his new duties he played to thirty thousand people. Musical criticism at the time, represented by Della Valle and Lelio Guidiccioni, records that while his style was less profound, it was more elastic and agreeable than that of his predecessors. Such a criticism, especially coming from Guidiccioni, who was most exacting upon the subject of technique,[10] would indicate that Frescobaldi possessed a genuine advantage over his contemporaries. At the present day one would say that he played the organ with a pianist's touch; if one replace this criticism in its historic frame, one may imagine the continuous use of trills, scales, mordents and appoggiaturas: an inheritance from the German "colorists." While perhaps a mistaken usage, how else could one have made one's self heard throughout the immense nave of St. Peter's, upon an organ of fourteen registers, with but one manual and an incomplete pedal? Boldness and dash, that which we understand by _brio_, had to compensate for paucity of tone. [Footnote 10: Luzzasco Luzzaschi, whose compositions were for that time of great value, was charged by Guidiccioni with inability to play trills and to bring out in relief the details of the counterpoint, which were blurred under a hard, heavy touch.]