Torrigiani lives in history chiefly for two pieces of work widely dissimilar in character--the erection of the tomb of Henry VII of England, and the breaking of the nose of Michelangelo Buonarroti in the course of a quarrel which he had with him in Florence when they were fellow-students under Masaccio.

Of nothing that he ever did in life was he so proud--as we may gather from Cellini--as of having disfigured Michelangelo, and in that sentiment the naive spirit of his age again peeps forth.
We shall also see Leonardo da Vinci joining the duke's army as engineer--but that not until some months later.
Meanwhile his forces grew daily in Rome, and his time was consumed in organizing, equipping, and drilling these, to bring about that perfect unity for which his army was to be conspicuous in spite of the variety of French, Italian, Spanish, and Swiss elements of which it was composed.

So effectively were his troops armed and so excellent was the discipline prevailing among them, that their like had probably never before been seen in the peninsula, and they were to excite--as much else of Cesare's work--the wonder and admiration of that great critic Macchiavelli.
So much, however, was not to be achieved without money, and still more would be needed for the campaign ahead.

For this the Church provided.
Never had the coffers of the Holy See been fuller than at this moment.
Additional funds accrued from what is almost universally spoken of as "the sale of twelve cardinals' hats." In that year--in September--twelve new cardinals were appointed, and upon each of those was levied, as a tax, a tithe of the first year's revenues of the benefices upon which they entered.

The only justifiable exception that can be taken to this lies in the number of cardinals elected at one time, which lends colour to the assumption that the sole aim of that election was to raise additional funds for Cesare's campaign.