more or less equal pretensions claimed the command, and the wranglings of the counsel of war were not less than those of a village municipality. On the other hand, Carmagnola, in his rustic haughtiness, conscious of being the better yet the inferior of all round him, his animo sdegnoso stoutly contemptuous of all lesser claims, kept perfect harmony in his camp, though the names of Gonzaga and Sforza are to be found among his officers. Even the Venetian commissioners yielded to his influence, Bigli says, with awe – though he hid his iron hand in no glove, but ruled his army with the arrogance which had been his characteristic from his youth up.
The great battle of Maclodio or Macalo was the chief feature in Carmagnola's second campaign. This place was surrounded by marshes, the paths across which were tortuous and difficult to find, covered with treacherous herbage and tufts of wood. Carmagnola's purpose was to draw the Milanese army after him, and bring on a battle if possible on this impossible ground, which his own army had thoroughly explored and understood. Almost against hope his opponents fell into the snare, notwithstanding the opposition of the older and more experienced captains, who divined their old comrade's strategy. Unfortunately, however, for the Milanese, Philip had put a young Malatesta, incompetent and headstrong, whose chief recommendation was his noble blood, at the head of the old officers, by way of putting a stop to their rivalries. When the new general decided upon attacking the Venetians, his better instructed subordinates protested earnestly. "We overthrow Philip to-day," cried Torelli, one of the chiefs; "for either I know nothing of war, or this road leads us headlong to destruction; but that no one may say I shrink from danger, I put my foot first into the snare." So saying, he led the way into the marsh, but with every precaution, pointing out to his men the traps laid for them, and having the good fortune to hit upon one of the solid lines of path, escaped with his son and a few of his immediate followers. Piccinino, another of the leaders, directed his men to turn their pikes against either friend or foe who stopped the way, and managed to cut his way out with a few of his men; but the bulk of the army fell headlong into the snare; the general Malatesta was taken almost immediately, and the floundering troops surrounded and taken prisoners in battalions.
Sabellico talks of much bloodshed, but it would seem to have been the innocent blood of horses that alone was shed in this great battle.
Nearly five thousand horsemen, and a similar number of foot-soldiers, were taken – there was no slaughter," says Bigli; "the troops thus hemmed in, rather than be slain, yielded themselves prisoners. Those who were there affirm that they heard of no one being killed, extraordinary to relate, though it was a great battle. Philip's army was so completely equipped in armour, that no small blow was needed to injure them; nor is there any man who can record what could be called a slaughter of armed men in Italy, though the slaughter of horses was incredible. This disaster was great and memorable," he adds, "for Philip – so much so that even the conquerors regretted it, having compassion on the perilous position of so great a Duke; so that you could hear murmurings throughout the camp of the Venetians against their own victory."
Were it not that the bloodless character of the combat involves a certain ridicule, what a good thing
