.g % 33 i- 3lijriV-5U ,i|j0> /A 4 ^'•',viv. iijjhV'^Ui -'Aavijuii- JUJIWJ-dv\ Ji?]J'JNV'iO. "MiwnAo ,AOf ;\l, '■mmim'^^ '^il]AINll]VVv' -'•^y artfully decoyed him into a (puurel, in whicli he happened to kill his BOOK Yi.] EMPEROE AND ERANCIS. 3 antagonist, one of the duke's domestics, and having instantly- seized him, they ordered him to be tried for that crime, and to be beheaded. Francis, no less astonished at this violation of a character held sacred among the most uncivilized nations, than enraged at the insult offered to the dignity of his crown, threatened Sforza with the effects of his indig- nation, and complained to the emperor, whom he considered as the real author of that unexampled outrage. But receiving no satisfaction from either, he appealed to all the princes of Europe, and thought himself now entitled to take vengeance for an injury, which it would have been indecent and pusillanimous to let pass with impunity. Being thus furnished with a pretext for beginning a war, on which he had already resolved, he multiplied his efforts in order to draw in other princes to take part in the quarrel. But all his measures for this purpose were disconcerted by unforeseen events. After having sacrificed the honour of the royal family of France by the marriage of his son with Catharine of Medici, in order to gain Clement, the death of that pontiff had deprived him of all the advantages which he expected to derive from his friendship. Paul, his successor, though attached by inclination to the imperial interest, seemed determined to maintahi the neutrality suitable to his character as the common father of the contending princes. The king of England, occupied with domestic cares and projects, dechned, for once, engaging in the affairs of the continent, and refused to assist Francis, unless he would imitate his example, in throwing oft' the papal supremacy. These disappointments led him to solicit, with greater earnestness, the aid of the protestant princes associated by the league of Smalkalde. That he might the more easily acquire their confidence, he endeavoured to accommodate himself to their predominant passion, zeal for their religious tenets. He affected a wonderful moderation with regard to the points in dispute ; he permitted Bellay, his envoy in Germany, to explain his sentiments concerning B 2 4 rHANCIS' UNSUCCESSFUL NEGOTLiTIOXS [bookvi. some of tliG most important articles, in terms not far different from those used by the protestants;^ he even condescended to invite Melancthon, whose gentle manners and pacific spirit distinguished him among the reformers, to visit Paris, that by his assistance he might concert the most proper measures for reconciling the contending sects ■which so unhappily divided the church.^ These concessions must be considered rather as arts of policy than the result of conviction ; for, whatever impression the ucav opinions in religion had made on his sisters, the queen of Navarre and duchess of Ferrara, the gaiety of Francis's own temper, and his love of pleasure, alloAved him little leisure to ex- amine theological controversies. But soon after he lost all the fruits of this disingenuous artifice by a step very inconsistent with his declarations to the German princes. This step, however, the prejudices of the age, and the religious sentiments of his own subjects, rendered it necessary for him to take. His close union with the king of England, an excommunicated heretic; his frequent negotiations with the German protestants ; but, above all, his giving public audience to an envoy from Sultan Solyman, had excited violent sus])icions concerning the sincerity of his attachment to religion. To have attacked the emperor, who, on all occasions, made high pretensions to zeal in defence of the catliolic faith, and at the very juncture when he was preparing for his exi)edition against Earbarossa, which was then considered as a pious enterprise, could not have failed to confirm such inifavourable senti- ments with regard to Francis, and called on him to vindicate himself by some extraordinary demonstration of his reverence for the established doctrines of the church. The indiscreet zeal of .some of his snbjects, who had imbibed the ])ro- tcstant opinions, furnished him with such an occasion as he ' Trolipri Script. Ror. (irrnian. iii. ^ Caniorarii Yil,a I'll. MclancUionis, •iH, &c. Sleid. Hist. 178, 183. Sec- 12^ Hag. 1C55, p. 12. kead. lib. iii. 103. BOOK VI.] WITH THE GERMAN PROTESTANTS. 5 desired. They had affixed to the gates of the Louvre, and other pul)hc ])laccs, papers containing indecent reflections on the doctrines and rites of the popish church. Six of the persons concerned in this rash action were discovered and seized. The king, in order to avert the judgments which it was snpposed their blasphemies might draw down upon the nation, appointed a solemn procession. The holy sacrament was carried through the city in great pomp ; Francis walked uncovered before it, bearing a torch in his hand ; the princes of the blood supported the canopy over it ; the nobles marched in order behind. In the presence of this numerous assembly, the king, accustomed to express himself on every subject in strong and animated language, declared that if one of his hands were infected with heresy, he would cut it off with the other, and would not spare even his own children, if found guilty of that crime. As a dreadful proof of his being in earnest, the six unhappy persons were publicly burnt before the procession was finished, with circumstances of the most shocking barbarity attending their execution.^ The princes of the league of Smalkalde, filled with resentment and indignation at the cruelty with which their brethren were treated, could not conceive Francis to be sincere, when he offered to protect in Germany those very tenets, which he persecuted with such rigour in his own dominions ; so that all Bellay's art and eloquence in vin- dicating his mastei', or apologising for his conduct, made but little impression upon them. They considered, like- wise, that the emperor, who hitherto had never employed violence against the doctrines of the reformers, nor even given them nuich molestation in their progress, was now bound by the agreement at Ratisbon, not to disturb such as had embraced the new opinions; and the protestants wisely regarded this as a more certain and immediate securit}'^, than the precarious and distant hopes with which 3 Belcarii Commcut. Rer. Gallic. 646. Sleid. Hist. 175, &c. 6 COMMENCEMENT OF OPERATIONS. [book vi. Francis endeavoured to allure tliem. Besides, the manner in which he had behaved to his allies at the siege of Cambray, was too recent to be forgotten, and did not encourage others to rely much on his friendship or gene- rosity. Upon all these accounts, the protcstant princes refused to assist the French king in any hostile attempt against the emperor. The elector of Saxony, the most zealous among them, in order to avoid giving any umbrage to Charles, would not permit ]\Ielancthon to visit the court of France, although that reformer, flattered, perhaps, by the invitation of so great a monarch, or hoping that his pre- sence there might be of signal advantage to the protestant cause, discovered a strong inclination to undertake the journey.^ But though none of the many princes who envied or dreaded the power of Charles, would second Francis's efforts in order to reduce and circumscribe it, he, nevertheless, commanded his army to advance towards the frontiers of Italy. As his sole pretext for taking arms Avas that he might chastise the duke of Milan for his insolent and cruel breach of the law of nations, it might have been expected that the whole weight of his vengeance was to have fiillen on his territories. But, on a sudden, and at their very commencement, operations of war took another direction. Charles, duke of Savoy, one of the least active and able princes of the line fiom which he descended, had married Beatrix of Portugal, the sister of the empress. By her great talents, she soon acfpiired an absolute ascendant over her husband ; and, ])roiul of lu:r affinity to the emperor, or allured by the magnilicent })roinises with which he flattered her ambition, she formed an union between the duke and the im|)erial court, extremely inccmsistent with that neu- trality, which wise policy, as well as the situation of his dominions, had hitherto induced him to observe in all the qriarrcls between the contending monarchs. Francis was < Canifraiii Vila Mclau. 112, &c., 415. Scckcud. lib. iii. 107. J500KVI.] FRANCIS AND TEE DUKE OF SAVOY. 7 abimdantly sensible of the distress to which he might be exposed, if, when he entered Italy, he should leave behind him the territories of a prince, devoted so obsequiously to the emperor, that he had sent his eldest son to be educated in the court of Spain, as a kind of hostage for his fidelity. Clement the Seventh, who had represented this danger in a strong light during his interview with Francis at Marseilles, suggested to him, at the same time, the proper method of guarding against it, having advised him to begin his opera- tions against the Milanese, by taking possession of Savoy and Piedmont, as the only certain way of securing a communication with his own dominions. Prancis, highly irritated with the duke on many accounts, particularly for having supplied the Constable Bourbon with the money that enabled him to levy the body of troops which ruined the French army in the fatal battle of Pavia, was not unwilling to let him now feel both how deeply he resented, and how severely he could punish, these injuries. Nor did he want several pretexts which gave some colour of equity to the violence that he intended. The territories of France and Savoy lying contiguous to each other, and intermingled in many places, various disputes, unavoidable in such a situation, subsisted between the two sovereigns con- cerning the limits of their respective property; and besides, Francis, in right of his mother, Louise of Savoy, had large claims upon the duke her brother, for her share in their father's succession. Being unwilling, however, to begin hostilities without some cause of quarrel more specious than these pretensions, many of which were obsolete, and others dubious, he demanded permission to march through Pied- mont in his Avay to the Milanese, hoping that the duke, from an excess of attachment to the imperial interest, might refuse this request, and thus give a greater appearance of justice to all his operations against him. But, if we may believe the historians of Savoy, who appear to be better informed with regard to this particular than those of France, 8 OCCUPATION OF SAYOY, [bookvi. the duke readily, and with a good grace, granted what it Avas not in his power to deny, promising free passage to the Trench troops as was desired ; so that Francis, as the only method now left of justifying the measures Avhich he determined to take, was obliged to insist for full satisfaction with regard to everything that either the crown of France or his mother Louise could demand of the house of Savoy.' Such an evasive answ^er, as might have been expected, being made to this requisition, the French army, under the Admiral Brion, poured at once into the duke's territories at different places. The counties of Bressey and Bugey, united at that time to Savoy, were overrun in a moment. Most of the towns in the duchy of Savoy opened their gates at the approach of the enemy ; a few which attempted to make resistance were easily taken ; and before the end of the campaign, the duke saw himself stripped of all his dominions but the province of Piedmont, in which there were not many places in a condition to be defended. To complete the duke's misfortunes, the city of Geneva, the sovereignty of which he claimed, and in some degree possessed, threw off his yoke, and its revolt drew along with it the loss of the adjacent territories. Geneva was, at that time, an imperial city ; and though under the direct dominion of its own bishops, and the remote sovereignty of the dukes of Savoy, the form of its internal constitution was purely republican, being governed by sindics and a council chosen Ijy the citizens. From these distinct and often clashing jurisdictions, two opposite parties took their rise, and had long subsisted in tlie state: the one, com- posed of the advocates for the i)rivileges of the conununity, assumed the name of ri//)ioi", or conredcratcs in defence of ]ii)erty ; and branded the other, which supported the episcopal or ducal prerogatives, with the name of mamclukes, or slaves. |ir),'32.| At length, the jjrotestant opinions _ ^ lli.stoire Gcut/alogiquc ilc Savcvo, par Guiclicnon, 2 foni. fol. Lvon. inr.O, 1. 03'J, &c. " . } BOOK VI.] GENEVA EECOYERS ITS LIBERTY. 9 beginning to spread among the citizens, inspired such as embraced them with tliat bold enterprising spirit which always accompanied or was naturally produced by them in their first operations. As both the duke and bishop were from interest, from prejudice, and from political considera- tions, violent enemies of the reformation, all the new converts joined with warmth the party of the eignotz ; and zeal for religion, mingling with the love of liberty, added strength to that generous passion. The rage and animosity of two factions, shut up within the same walls, occasioned frequent insurrections, which, terminating mostly to the advantage of the friends of liberty, they daily became more powerful. The duke and bishop, forgetting their ancient contests about jurisdiction, had united against their common enemies, and each attacked them Avith his proper weapons. The bishop excommunicated the people of Geneva, as guilty of a double crime ; of impiety, in apostatizing from the established religion ; and of sacrilege, in invading the rights of his see. The duke attacked them as rebels against their lawful prince, and attempted to render himself master of the city, first by surprise, and then by open force. [1534.] The citizens, despising the thunder of the bishop's censures, boldly asserted their independence against the duke ; and partly by their own valour, partly by the powerfid assistance which they received from the canton of Berne, together with some small supplies both of men and money, secretly furnished by the king of France, they defeated all his attempts. Not satisfied with having repulsed him, or with remaining always upon the defen- sive themselves, they now took advantage of the duke's inability to resist them, while overwhelmed by the armies of France, and seized several castles and places of strength, which he possessed in the neighbourhood of Geneva ; thus delivering the city from those odious monuments of its former subjection, and rendering the public liberty more secure for the future, At the same time the canton of 10 FRANCIS'S NEW CLAIM [bookvi. Berne invaded and conquered the Pays de Vaud, to which it had some pretensions. The canton of Friburgh, though zealously attached to the catholic religion, and having no subject of contest with the duke, laid hold on part of the spoils of that unfortunate prince. A great portion of these conquests or usurpations being still retained by the two cantons, add considerably to their power, and have become the most valuable part of their territories. Geneva, notwithstanding many schemes and enterprises of the dukes of Savoy to re- establish their dominion over it, still keeps possession of its independence ; and, in consequence of that blessing, has attained a degree of consideration, wealth, and elegance, which it could not otherwise have reached.'' Amidst such a succession of disastrous events, the duke of Savoy had no other resource but the emperor's protection, which, upon his return from Tunis, he demanded with the most earnest importunity; and as his misfortunes were occasioned chiefly by his attachment to the imperial interest, he had a just title to immediate assistance. Charles, how- ever, was not in a condition to support him with that vigour and despatch which the exigency of his affairs called for. Most of the troops employed in the African expedi- tion having been raised for that service alone, were dis- banded as soon as it was finished ; the veteran forces under Antonio de Leyva were hardly sufhcient for the defence of the Milanese ; and the emperor's treasury was entirely drained by his extraordinary efforts against the infidels. But the death of Francis Sforza, occasioned, according to some historians, by the terror of a, French invasion, which had twice been fatal to his family, alibrded the emperor full leisure to prepare for action. By tiiis unexpected event, tlie nature of the war, and the causes of discord, were totally changed. Francis's first pretext for taking arms, in " Ilist. dc la Villn dc Geneve, par Jiouclial, Gcii. 1728, torn. iv. p. 291, Spoil, 12". Utr. 10S5, p. 99. Hist. &c. tom.v. p.21G, &c. Mcm.deBcUay, de la Kuforinatiou de Suisse, par ISI. ^ BOOK VT.] TO THE DUCHY OF MILAN. H order to chastise Sforza for the msult offered to the dignity of his crown, was at once cut off; but as that prince died without issue, all Francis's rights to the duchy of Milan, which he had yielded only to Sforza and his posterity, returned back to him in full force. As the recovery of the Milanese was the favourite object of that monarch, he in- stantly renewed his claim to it ; and if he had supported his pretensions by ordering the powerful army quartered in Savoy to advance without losing a moment towards Milan, he could hardly have failed to secure the important point of possession. But Francis, who became less enterprising as he advanced in years, and who was overawed at some times into an excess of caution by the remembrance of his past misfortunes, endeavoured to establish his rights by negotia- tion, not by arms ; and from a timid moderation, fatal in all great aSairs, neglected to improve the favourable oppor- tunity which presented itself. Charles was more decisive in his operations, and, hi quality of sovereign, took possession of the duchy, as a vacant fief of the empire. AVhile Francis endeavoured to explain and assert his title to it, by argu- ments and memorials, or employed various arts in order to reconcile the Italian powers to the thoughts of his regaining footing in Italy, his rival was silently taking effectual steps to prevent it. The emperor, however, was very careful not to discover too early an intention of this kind ; but seeming to admit the equity of Francis's claim, he appeared solicitous only about giving him possession in such a manner as might not disturb the peace of Europe, or overturn the balance of power in Italy, which the politicians of that country were so desirous of preserving. By this artifice he deceived Francis, and gained so much confidence with the rest of Europe, that, almost without incurring any suspicion, he involved the affair in new difficulties, and protracted the negotiations at pleasure. Sometimes he proposed to grant the investiture of Milan to the duke of Orleans, FVancis's second son ; sometimes to the duke of Angouleme, his third son : as the 12 CHAELES PEEPAIIES FOR WAR. [book vi. views and inclinations of the French court varied, he trans- ferred his choice alternately from the one to the other, with such profound and well-conducted dissimulation, that neither Francis nor his ministers seem to have penetrated his real intention ; and all military operations were entirely sus- pended, as if nothing had remained but to enter quietly into possession of what they demanded. [1536.] During the interval of leisure gained in this manner, Charles, on his return from Tunis, assembled the states both of Sicily and Naples, and as they thought themselves greatly honoured by the presence of their sove- reign, and were no less pleased with the apparent disin- terestedness of his expedition into Africa, than dazzled by the success which had attended his arms, he prevailed on them to vote him such liberal subsidies as were seldom granted in that age. This enabled him to recruit his veteran troops, to levy a body of Germans, and to take every other proper precaution for executing or supporting the measures on which he had determined. Bellay, the French envoy in Germany, having discovered the intention of raising troops in that country, notwithstanding all the pretexts employed in order to conceal it, first alarmed his master with this evident proof of the emperor's insincerity.^ But Francis was so possessed at that time with the rage of negotiation, in all the artifices and refinements of which his rival far surpassed him, that, instead of beginning his military operations, and ])ushing them with vigour, or seizing the Milanese before the imperial army was assembled, he satisfied himself with making new otters to the emperor, in order to procure the investiture by his voluntary deed. His offers were, indeed, so liberal and advantageous, that if ever Charles had intended to grant his demand, he could not have rejected tlnni with decency. He dexterously eluded them by declaring, that, until he consulted the po})e in person, he could not take his final resolution with regard " .Mem. dc BcUay, VJ2. BOOK VI.] HE ENTERS_ROME. 13 to a point wliicli so nearly concerned the peace of Italy. By this evasion he gained some farther time for ripening the schemes which he had in view. The emperor at last advanced towards Rome, and made his public entry into that city with extraordinary pomp ; but it being found necessary to remove the ruins of an ancient temple of peace in order to widen one of the streets through which the cavalcade had to pass, all the historians take notice of this trivial circumstance, and they are fond to interpret it as an omen of the bloody war that followed. Charles, it is certain, had by this time banished all thoughts of peace ; and at last threw off the mask, with which he had so long covered his designs from the court of France, by a declaration of his sentiments no less singular than explicit. The French ambassadors having in their master's name demanded a definitive reply to his propositions con- cerning the investiture of Milan, Charles promised to give it next day in presence of the pope and cardinals assembled in full consistory. These being accordingly met, and all the foreign ambassadors invited to attend, the emperor stood up, and addressing himself to the pope, expatiated for some time on the sincerity of his own wishes for the peace of Christendom, as well as his abhorrence of war, the miseries of which he enumerated at great length, with studied and elaborate oratory ; he complained that all his endeavours to preserve the tranquillity of Europe had hitherto been defeated by the restless and unjust ambition of the French king ; that even during his minority, he had proofs of the unfriendly and hostile intentions of that monarch ; that afterwards, he had openly attempted to wrest from him the imperial crown which belonged to him by a title no less just than natural ; that he had next invaded his kingdom of Navarre ; that, not satisfied with this, he had attacked his territories as well as those of his allies, both, in Italy and the Low Countries ; that when the valour of the imperial troops, rendered irresistible by the 14 CHAULES CHALLENGES FRANCIS, [bookvi. protection of the Almighty, had checked his progress, ruined his armies, and seized his person, he continued to pursue by deceit what he had undertaken with injustice ; that he liad violated every article in the treaty of Madrid, to which he owed his liberty, and as soon as he returned to his dominions took measures for rekindling the war Avhich that pacihcation had happily extinguished; that when new misfortunes compelled him to sue again for peace at Cambray, he concluded and observed it with equal insincerity ; that soon after he had formed dangerous connexions with the heretical princes in Germany, and incited them to disturb the tranquillity of the empire ; that now he had driven the duke of Savoy, a prince married to a sister of the empress, and joined in close alliance with Spain, out of the greater part of his territories ; and after injuries so often repeated, and amidst so many sources of discord, all hope of amity or concord became desperate ; and though he himself Avas still willing to grant the inves- titure of Milan to one of the princes of France, there was little probability of that event taking place, as Francis, on the one hand, would not consent to what was necessary for securing the tranciuillity of Europe, nor, on the other, could he think it reasonable or safe to give a rival the un- conditional possession of all that he demanded. " Let us not, however," added he, " continue w-antonly to shed the blood of our innocent subjects; let us decide the quarrel man to man, with what arms he pleases to choose, in our shirts, on an island, a bridge, or aboard a galley moored in a river ; let the duchy of Burgundy be put in deposit on his part, and that of Milan on mine ; these shall be the l)rize of the conqueror; and after that, let the united forces of Germany, S[)ain, and France, be cm])loyed to humble the i)ower of the Turk, and to extirpate heresy out of Christendom. But if he, by declining this method of terminating our diflerences, renders war inevitable, nothing shall divert me from prosecuting it to such extremity, as BOOK VI.] IN A CONSISTORY AT ROME. 15 shall reduce one of us to be the poorest gcDtleman in his own dominions. Nor do I fear that it will be on me this misfortune shall fall : I enter upon action with the fairest prospect of success ; the justice of my cause, the union of my subjects, the number and valour of my troops, the experience and fidelity of my generals, all combine to ensure it. Of all these advantages the king of France is destitute ; and were my resources no more certain, and my hopes of victory no better founded than his, I would instantly throw myself at his feet, and with folded hands, and a rope about my neck, implore his mercy."* This long harangue the emperor delivered with an elevated voice, a haughty tone, and the greatest vehemence of expression and gesture. The French ambassadors, who did not fully comprehend his meaning, as he spake in the Spanish tongue, were totally disconcerted, and at a loss how they should answer such an unexpected invective ; when one of them beo;an to vindicate his master's conduct, Charles interposed abruptly, and would not permit him to proceed. The pope, without entering into any particular detail, satisfied himself with a short but pathetic recom- mendation of peace, together with an oifer of employing his sincere endeavours in order to procure that blessing to Christendom ; and the assembly broke up in the greatest astonishment at the extraordinary scene which had been exhibited. In no part of his conduct, indeed, did Charles ever deviate so widely from his general character. Instead of that prudent recollection, that composed and regidar deportment so strictly attentive to decorum, and so admi- rably adapted to conceal his own passions, for which he was at all other times conspicuous, he appears on this occasion before one of the most august assemblies in Europe, boasting of his own power and exploits with insolence ; inveighing against his enemy with indecency ; and challenging him to combat with an ostentatious valour, * Mem. de Bellay, 199. Saiidov. Histor. del Emper. ii. 226. 16 CHAELES INVADES FRANCE. [book vi. more becoming a champion in romance, than the first monarch in Christendom. But the well-known and power- ful operation of continued prosperity, as well as of exag- gerated praise, even upon the firmest minds, sufficiently accounts for this seeming inconsistency. After having compelled Solyman to retreat, and having stripped Barba- rossa of a kingdom, Charles began to consider his arms as invincible. He had been entertained, ever since his return from Africa, with repeated scenes of triumphs and public rejoicings ; the orators and poets of Italy, the most elegant at that time in Europe, had exhausted their genius in panegyric on his conduct and merit, to which the astrologers added magnificent promises of a more splendid fortune still in store. Intoxicated with all these, he forgot his usual reserve and moderation, and was unable to restrain this extravagant sally of vanity, which became the more remark- able, by being both so uncommon and so public. He himself seems to have been immediately sensible of the impropriety of his behaviour, and when the Fi'ench ambassadors demanded next day a more clear explanation of what he had said concerning the combat, he told them tl'.at they were not to consider his proposal as a formal challenge to their master, but as an expedient for pre- venting bloodshed; he endeavoured to soften several ex- pressions in his discourse, and spoke in terms full of rc.'^pect towards iVancis. But though this slight apology was far from being sufficient to remove the offence which had been given, Francis, by an unaccountable infatuation, contiimed to negotiate, as if it had still been possible to bring their differences to a period by an amicable composi- tion. Charles, finding him so eager to run into the snare, favoured the deception, and, by seeming to listen to his proposals, gained time to prepare for the execution of his own designs." At lust, the imp(!rial army nssembled on the frontiers of " Mem. dc Bellay, 205, &c. BooKvi.] CHAELES INVADES FRANCE. 17 the Milanese, to the amount of forty thousand foot and ten thousand horse ; while that of France encamped near Vercclli in Piedmont, being greatly inferior in number, and weakened by the departure of a body of Swiss, whom Charles artfully persuaded the popish cantons to recal, that they might not serve against the Duke of Savoy, their ancient ally. The French general, not daring to risk a battle, retired as soon as the imperialists advanced. The emperor put himself at the head of his forces, which the ]\Iarquis del Guasto, the Duke of Alva, and Ferdinand de Gonzago, commanded under him, though the supreme direction of the w^hole was committed to Antonio de Leyva, whose abilities and experience justly entitled him to that distinction. Charles soon discovered his intention not to confine his operations to the recovery of Piedmont and Savoy, but to push forward and invade the southern pro- vinces of Prance. This scheme he had long meditated, and had long been taking measures for executing it with such vigour as might ensure success. He had remitted large sums to his sister, the governess of the Low Countries, and to his brother, the king of the Romans, instructing them to levy all the forces in their power, in order to form two separate bodies, the one to enter Prance on the side of Picardy, the other on the side of Champagne; while he, with the main army, fell upon the opposite frontier of the kingdom. Trusting to these vast preparations, he thought it impossible that Prancis could resist so many unexpected attacks, on such different quarters ; and began his enter- prise with such confidence of its happy issue, that he desired Paul Jo\ius, the historian, to make a large pro- vision of paper sufficient to record the victories which he was going to obtain. His ministers and generals, instead of entertaining the same sanguine hopes, represented to him, in the strongest terms, the danger of leading his troops so far from his own territories, to such a distance from his magazines, and into VOL. II. c 18 REVOLT OF DE SALUCES. [bookvi. provinces which did not yield sufficient subsistence for their own inhabitants. They entreated him to consider the inexhaustible resources of France in maintaining a defensive war, and the active zeal with which a gallant nobility would serve a prince whom they loved, in repelling the enemies of their country ; they recalled to his remem- brance the fatal miscarriage of Bourbon and Pescara, w^ien they ventured upon the same enterprise under circum- stances which seemed as certain to promise success ; the ]\Iarquis del Guasto, in particular, fell on his knees and conjured him to abandon the undertaking as desperate. But many circumstances combined in leading Charles to disregard all their remonstrances. He could seldom be brought, on any occasion, to depart from a resolution which he had once taken ; he was to apt to underrate and despise the talents of his rival, the king of France, because they differed so widely from his own ; he w^as blinded by the presumption which accompanies prosperity ; and relied, perhaps, in some degree, on the prophecies \vhich predicted the increase of his own grandeur. He not only adhered obstinately to his own plan, but determined to advance towards France without waiting for the reduction of any part of Piedmont, except such towns as were absolutely necessary for preserving his communication wuth the Milanese. The jNlarquis de Saluccs, to whom Francis had entrusted the command of a small body of troops left for the defence of Piedmont, rendered this more easy than Charles had any reason to cx])ect. Tliat nobleman, educated in the court of France, distinguished by continual marks of the king's favour, and honoured so lately with a charge of such importance, suddenly, and without any provocation or })rctcxt of disgust, revolted from his benefactor. His motives to this treacherous action were as childish as the deed itself w^as ])ase. Being strongly possessed with a superstitious faith in divination and astrology, he believed BOOK VI.] FRANCIS'S PLAN OF DEFENCE. 19 with full assurance, that the fatal period of the rrench nation was at hand ; that on its ruins the emperor would establish an universal monarchy ; that therefore he ought to follow the dictates of prudence, in attaching himself to his rising fortune, and could incur no blame for deserting a prince whom heaven had devoted to destruction. '° His treason became still more odious, by his employing that very authority wdth which Francis had invested him, in order to open the kingdom to his enemies. Whatever measures were proposed or undertaken by the officers under his command for the defence of their conquests, he rejected or defeated. Whatever properly belonged to himself, as commander-in-chief, to provide or perform for that purpose, he totally neglected. In this manner he rendered towns even of the greatest consequence untenable, by leaving them destitute either of provisions, or ammunition, or artillery, or a sufficient garrison ; and the imperialists must have reduced Piedmont in as short a time as was necessary to march through it, if Montpezat, the governor of Fossano, had not, by an extraordinary effort of courage and military conduct, detained them almost a month before that incon- siderable place. By this meritorious and seasonable service, he gained his master sufficient time for assembling his forces, and for concerting a system of defence against a danger which he now saw to be inevitable. Francis fixed upon the only proper and effectual plan for defeating the invasion of a powerful enemy ; and his prudence in choosing this plan, as well as his perseverance in executing it, deserve the greater praise, as it was equally contrary to his own natural temper, and to the genius of the French nation. He de- termined to remain altogether upon the defensive; never to hazard a battle, or even a great skirmish, without certainty of success ; to fortify his camps in a regular manner ; to throw garrisons only into towns of great '» Mem. de Bellay, 222 a; 24G b. c 2 20 ITS EXECUTION ENTRUSTED TO MONTMORENCY, [book vi. strength ; to deprive the enemy of subsistence by laying waste the country before them ; and to save the whole kingdom, by sacrificing one of its provinces. The execu- tion of this plan he committed entirely to the Marechal Montmorency, who was the author of it ; a man Avonder- fully fitted by nature for such a trust. Haughty, severe, confident in his own abilities, and despising those of other men ; incapable of being diverted from any resolution by remonstrances or entreaties, and, in prosecuting any scheme, regardless alike of love or of pity. jMontmorency made choice of a strong camp under the walls of Avignon, at the confluence of the Rhone and the Durance, one of which plentifully supplied his troops with all necessaries from the inland provinces, and the other covered his camp on that side where it was most probable the enemy would approach. He laboured with unwearied industry to render the fortifications of this camp impreg- nable, and assembled there a considerable army, though greatly inferior to that of the enemy ; while the king with another body of troops encamped at Valence, higher up the Rhone. Marseilles and Aries were the only towns he thought it necessary to defend ; the former, in order to retain the command of the sea ; the latter, as the barrier of the province of Languedoc ; and each of these he fur- nished with numerous garrisons of his best troops, com- manded by officers on whose fidelity and valour he could rely. The inhabitants of the other towns, as well as of the open country, were compelled to abandon their houses, and were conducted to the mountains, to the camp at Avignon, or to the inland provinces. The fortifications of such i)laces as might have aff'orded shelter or defence to the enemy were thrown down. Corn, forage, and provi- sions of every kind, were carried away or destroyed ; all the mills and ovens were ruined, and the Avells filled up or rendered useless. The devastation extended from the Alps to ]\Iarscillcs, and from the sea to the confines of BOOK VI.] CHARLES ENTERS PROVENCE. 21 Dauphine; nor does history afford any instance among civilized nations, in wliicli this cruel expedient for the public safety was employed with the same rigour. At length, the emperor arrived with the van of his army on the frontiers of Provence, and was still so possessed with confidence of success, that during a few days, when he was obliged to halt until the rest of his troops came up, he began to divide his future conquests among his officers; and as a new incitement to serve him with zeal, gave them liberal promises of offices, lands, and honours in France.' The face of desolation, however, which presented itself to him when he entered the country, began to damp his hopes ; and convinced him that a monarch who, hi order to distress an enemy, had voluntarily ruined one of his richest provinces, would defend the rest with desperate obstinacy. Nor was it long before he became sensible that Francis's plan of defence was as prudent as it appeared to be extraordinary. His fleet, on which Charles chiefly depended for subsistence, was prevented for some time by contrary winds, and other accidents to which naval opera- tions are subject, from approaching the French coast ; even after its arrival, it afforded at best a precarious and scanty supply to such a numerous body of troops;'^ nothing was to be found in the country itself for their support ; nor could they draw any considerable aid from the dominions of the duke of Savoy, exhausted already by maintaining two great armies. The emperor was no less embarrassed how to employ, than how to subsist his forces ; for though he was now in possession of almost an entire province, he could not be said to have the command of it, while he held only defenceless towns ; and while the French, besides their camp at Avignon, continued masters of Marseilles and Aries. At first he thought of attacking the camp, and of terminating the war by one decisive blow ; but skilful officers, who were appointed to view it, declared the " Mem. de Bellay, 2G6, a. '- Sandov ii. 231. 22 CHAELES IS DEFEATED BY MONTMORENCY. [B00K^T. attempt to be utterly impracticable. He then gave orders to invest Marseilles and Aries, hoping that the Prench would quit their advantageous post in order to relieve them ; but Montmorency, adhering firmly to his plan, remained immovable at Avignon, and the imperialists met ^Yith such a warm reception from the garrisons of both towns, that they relinquished their enterprises with loss and disgrace. As a last effort, the emperor advanced once more toAvards Avignon, though with an army harassed by the perpetual incursions of small parties of the French light troops, weakened by diseases, and dispirited by disasters, which seemed the more intolerable because they were unexpected. During these operations, IMontmorency found himself exposed to greater danger from his own troops than from the enemy; and their inconsiderate valour went near to have precipitated the kingdom into those calamities which he, with such industry and caution, had endeavoured to avoid. Unaccustomed to behold an enemy ravaging their country almost without control ; impatient of such long inaction ; unacquainted with the slow and remote, but certain effects of Montmorency's system of defence ; the French wished for a battle with no less ardour than the imperialists. They considered the conduct of their general as a disgrace to their country. His caution they imputed to timidity ; his circumspection to want of spirit ; and the constancy with which he pursued his plan, to obstinacy or pride. These reflections, whispered at first among the soldiers and subalterns, were adopted, by degrees, by officers of higher rank ; and as many of them envied Montmorency's favour with the king, and more were dis- satisfied with his harsh, disgusting manner, the discontent soon became great in his camp, which was filled with general nmrmurings, and almost open complaints agninst his moasnrcs. Montmorency, on whom the sentiments of his own troops made as httle impression as the insults of I BOOK VI.] HIS RETREAT. 23 the enemy, adhered steadily to his system ; though, in order to reconcile the army to his maxims, no less contrary to the genius of the nation than to the ideas of war among undisciplined troops, he assumed an unusual affability in liis deportment, and often explained, with great conde- scension, the motives of his conduct, the advantages which had already resulted from it, and the certain success with which it would be attended. At last, Francis joined his army at Avignon, which having received several reinforce- ments, he now considered as of strength sufficient to face the enemy. As he had put no small constraint upon himself, in consenting that his troops should remain so long upon the defensive, it can hardly be doubted but that his fondness for what Avas daring and splendid, added to the impatience both of officers and soldiers, would at last have overruled Montmorency's salutary caution. ^'^ Happily the retreat of the enemy delivered the kingdom from the danger which any rash resolution might have occasioned. The emperor, after spending two inglorious months in Provence, without having performed anything suitable to his vast preparations, or that could justify the confidence with which he had boasted of his own power, found that, besides Antonio de Leyva, and other officers of distinction, he had lost one half of his troops by diseases, or by famine ; and that the rest were in no condition to struggle any longer with calamities, by which so many of their companions had perished. Necessity, therefore, extorted from him orders to retire ; and though he was some time in motion before the French suspected his intention, a body of light troops, assisted by crowds of peasants, eager to be revenged on those who had brought such desolation on their country, hung upon the rear of the imperialists, and by seizing every favourable opportunity of attacking them, threw them often into confusion. The road by which they fled, for they pursued their march with 13 Mem. de Bcllay, 2G9, &c. 313, &c. 24 OPERATIONS IN PICARDY. [bookti. such disorder and precipitation, that it scarcely deserves the name of a retreat, was strewed with arms or baggage, which in their hurry and trepidation they had abandoned, and covered with the sick, the wounded, and the dead ; insomuch that INlartin Bellay, an eye-witness of their calamities, endeavours to give his readers some idea of them, by comparing their miseries to those which the Jews suffered from the victorious and destructive arms of the Romans. ^^ If Montmorency, at this critical moment, had advanced with all his forces, nothing could have saved the whole imperial army from utter ruin. But that general, by standing so long and so obstinately on the defensive, had become cautious to excess ; his mind, tenacious of any bent it had once taken, could not assume a contrary one as suddenly as the change of circumstances required ; and he still continued to repeat his favourite maxims, that it was more prudent to allow the lion to escape, than to drive him to despair, and that a bridge of gold should be made for a retreatino; enemv. The emperor having conducted the shattered remains of his troops to the frontiers of Milan, and appointed the Marcpiis del Guasto to succeed Leyva in the government of that duchy, set out for Genoa. As he could not bear to expose himself to the scorn of the Italians, after such a sad reverse of fortune ; and did not choose, under his present circumstances, to revisit those cities through which he had so lately passed in triumph for one conquest, and in certain expectation of another ; he embarked directly for Spain.'^ Nor was the progress of his arms on the opposite frontier of France such as to alleviate, in any degree, the losses which he had sustained in Provence. Ik'llay, by his address and intrigues, had prevailed on so many of the German princes to withdraw the contingent of troops which they had furnished to the king of the Romans, tliat he was " Mem. (Ic BclIay, 310. Saiulov. '•• Jovii Ilislor. lib. xxxv. p 171, Hist, del Einpcr. ii. 232. &c. BOOK VI.] DEATH OF THE DAUPHIN. 25 obliged to lay aside all tlioiiglits of his intended irruption into Champagne. Though a powerful army levied in the Low Countries entered Picardy, which they found but feebly guarded while the strength of the kingdom was drawn towards the south ; yet the nobility, taking arms with their usual alacrity, supplied by their spirit the defects of the king's preparations, and defended Peronne, and other towns which were attacked, with such vigour, as obliged the enemy to retire, without making any conquest of importance.^'' Thus Francis, by the prudence of his own measures, and by the union and valour of his subjects, rendered abortive those vast efforts in which his rival had almost exhausted his whole force. As this humbled the emperor's arrogance no less than it checked his power, he was mortified more sensibly on this occasion than on any other, during the course of the long contests between him and the French monarch. One circumstance alone embittered the joy wdth which the success of the campaign inspired Francis. That was the death of the dauphin, his eldest son, a prince of great hopes, and extremely beloved by the people on account of his resemblance to his father. This ha})pening suddenly, was imputed to poison, not only by the vulgar, fond of ascribing the death of illustrious personages to extraordinary causes, but by the king and his ministers. The Count de Montecuculi, an Italian nobleman, cup-bearer to the dauphin, being seized on suspicion and put to the torture, openly charged the imperial generals, Gonzago and Leyva, with having instigated him to the commission of that crime ; he even threw out some indirect and obscure ac- cusations against tlie emperor himself. At a time when all France was exasperated to the utmost against Charles, this uncertain and extorted charge was considered as an incon- testable proof of guilt; while the confidence with which i« Mem. de Bellay, 318, &c. 26 DECREE OF THE PARLIMIENT OF PARIS. [bookvi. both lie and his officers asserted their own innocence, together with the indignation, as well as horror, which they expressed on theii* being snpposed capable of such a detestable action, were little attended to and less re- garded.^' It is evident, however, that the emperor could have no inducement to perpetrate such a crime, as Francis was still in the vigour of life himself, and had two sons, beside the dauphin, grown up almost to the age of man- hood. That single consideration, without mentioning the emperor's general character, unblemished by the imputa- tion of any deed resembling this in atrocity, is more than sufficient to counterbalance the weight of a dubious testi- mony uttered during the anguish of torture. ^^ According to the most unprejudiced historians, the dauphin's death was occasioned by his having drunk too freely of cold water after over-heating himself at tennis ; and this account, as it is the most simple, is likewise the most credible. But if his days were cut short by poison, it is not improbable tliat the emperor conjectured rightly, when he affirmed that it had been administered by the direction of Catharine of Medici, in order to secure the crown to the duke of Orleans, her husband.'^ The advantages resulting to her by the dauphin's death, were obvious as well as great; nor did her boundless and dai'ing ambition ever recoil from any action necessary towards attaining the objects v.diich she had in view. Next year [1537] opened with a transaction very un- common, but so incapable of producing any effect, that it would not deserve to be mentioned, if it were not a striking proof of the personal animosity which mingled itself in all the hostilities between Charles and IVancis, and which often betrayed them into such indecencies towards each other, as lessened the dignity of both. • Francis, accom- panied by the peers and princes of the blood, having taken his seat in the parliament of Paris with the usual solemni- '^ M('m. dc J'.cUay, 280. ''' N'cra y Zunigu, Vida dc Cailos V. '" Saiidov. llibt. del Enipcr. ii. 2.'51. p. 75. BOOK VI.] HOSTILITIES IN THE LOW COUNTRIES. 27 ties, the advocate-general appeared ; and after accusing Charles of Austria (for so he affected to call the emperor) of having violated the treaty of Cambray, by which he was absolved from the homage due to the crown of France for the counties of Artois and Flanders ; insisted that this treaty, being now void, he w^as still to be considered as a vassal of the crown, and, by consequence, had been guilty of rebellion in taking arms against his sovereign ; and therefore he demanded that Charles should be siniimoned to appear in person, or by his counsel, before the parliament of Paris, his legal judges, to answer for this crime. The request was granted ; a herald repaired to the frontiers of Picardy, and summoned him with the accustomed for- malities to appear against a day prefixed. That term being expired, and no person appearing in his name, the par- liament gave judgment, " That Charles of Austria had forfeited by rebellion and contumacy those fiefs ; declared Flanders and Artois to be reunited to the crown of France ;" and ordered their decree for this purpose to be published by sound of trumpet on the frontiers of these provinces.-" Soon after this vain display of his resentment, rather than of his power, Francis marched towards the Low Countries, as if he had intended to execute the sentence which his parliament had pronounced, and to seize those territories which it had awarded to him. As the queen of Hungary, to whom her brother the emperor had committed the government of that part of his dominions, was not prepared for so early a campaign, he at first made some progress, and took some towns of importance. But being obliged soon to leave his army in order to superintend the other operations of war, the Flemings, having assembled a numerous army, not only recovered most of the places which they had lost, but began to make conquests in their turn. At last they invested Tcrouenne, and the duke of Orleans, now dauphin, by the death of his brother, and *" Lcttrcs et Memoires d'Elat, par Ribicr, 2 torn. Blois, IGGG, torn. i. p. 1. 28 SUSPENSION OF HOSTrLITIES. [book yi. INIontraorency, whom Francis had honoured with the con- stable's sword, as the reward of his great services during the former campaign, determined to hazard a battle in order to relieve it. While they were advancing for this purpose, and within a few miles of the enemy, they were stopped short by the arrival of a herald from the queen of Hungary, acquainting him that a suspension of arms was now agreed upon. This unexpected event was owing to the zealous en- deavours of the two sisters, the queens of France and of Hungary, who had long laboured to reconcile the con- tending monarchs. The war in the Netherlands had laid waste the frontier provinces of both countries, without any real advantage to either. The French and Flemings equally regretted the interruption of their commerce, which was beneficial to both, Charles, as well as Francis, who had each strained to the utmost, in order to support the vast operations of the former campaign, found that they could not now keep armies on foot in this quarter, without weakening their operations in Piedmont, where both wished to push the war with the greatest vigour. All these cir- cumstances facilitated the negotiations of the two queens ; a truce was conckided, to continue in force for ten months, but it extended no farther than the Low Countries.^^ In Piedmont the Avar was still prosecuted with great animosity ; and though neither Cliarles nor Francis could make the powerful efforts to which this animosity prompted them, they continued to exert themselves like combatants, whose rancour remains after their strength is exhausted. Towns were alternately lost and retaken ; skirmishes were fought every day ; and much blood was shed, without any action that gave a decided superiority to either side. At last the two cjucens, determining not to leave unfinished the good work which they had begnn, prevailed, by their importunate solicitations, the one on her brother, the other *' Mom. de Uibier, fjC). BOOK VI.] ALLIANCE BETWEEN FRANCIS AND SOLYMAN. 29 on her husband, to consent also to a truce in Piedmont for three months. The conditions of it were, that each should keep possession of what was in his hands, and, after leaving garrisons in the towns, should withdraw his army out of the province ; and that plenipotentiaries should be appointed to adjust all matters in dispute by a final treaty.^" The powerful motives which inclined both princes to this accommodation, have been often mentioned. The expenses of the w^ar had far exceeded the sums which their revenues were capable of supplying ; nor durst they venture upon any great addition to the impositions then esta- blished, as subjects had not yet learned to bear with patience the immense burdens to which they have become accustomed in modern times. The emperor in particular, though he had contracted debts which in that age appeared prodigious,-^ had it not in his power to pay the large arrears long due to his army. At the same time, he had no prospect of deriving any aid in money or men either from the pope or Venetians, though he had employed promises and threats, alternately, in order to procure it. But he found the former not only fixed in his resolution of adhering steadily to the neutrality which he had always declared to be suitable to his character, but passionately desirous of bringing about a peace. He perceived that the latter were still intent on their ancient object of holding the balance even between the rivals, and solicitous not to throw too great a weight into either scale. What made a deeper impression on Charles than all these, was the dread of the Turkish arms, which, by his league with Solyman, Francis had drawn upon him. Though Francis, without the assistance of a single ally, had a war to maintain against an enemy greatly superior in power to himself, yet so great was the horror of Christians, in that age, at any union with infidels, which -" U6m. de Ribier, 62. =3 xbid. i. 29i. 30 OPERATIONS OF TURKS IN ITALY AND HUNGAEY. [book vi. they considered not only as dishonourable but profane, that it was long before he could be brought to avail himself of the obvious advantages resulting from such a confederacy. Necessity at last surmounted his delicacy and scruples. Towards the close of the preceding year, La Forest, a secret agent at the Ottoman Porte, had concluded a treaty with the sultan, whereby Solyman engaged to invade the kingdom of Naples, during the next campaign, and to attack the king of the Romans in Hungary with a powerful army, while Francis undertook to enter the ]\Iilanese at the same time with a proper force. Solyman had punc- tually performed what was incumbent on him. Barbarossa with a great fleet appeared on the coast of Naples ; filled that kingdom, from which all the troops had been drawn towards Piedmont, with consternation ; landed without resistance near Taranto ; obliged Castro, a place of some strength, to surrender; plundered the adjacent country, and was taking measures for securing and extending his conquests, when the expected arrival of Doria, together with the pope's galleys and a squadron of the Venetian fleet, made it prudent for him to retire. In Hungary the progress of the Turks was more formidable. IMahmet, their general, after gaining several small advantages, de- feated the Germans, in a great battle at Essek on the Dravc.^* Happily for Christendom, it was not in Francis's power to execute with equal exactness Avhat he had stipu- lated; nor could he assemble at this juncture an army strong enough to penetrate into the Milanese. By this he failed in recovering possession of that duchy ; and Italy was not only saved fi'om the calamities of a new war, but from feeling the desolating rage of the Turkish arms, as an addition to all that it had suffered." As the emperor knew lliat he could not long resist the efforts of two such powerful confederates, nor could expect that the same ^' Tslnanliciri TTisl. Hung. lib. xiii. p. 139. ^•' Jovii Hist. lib. XXXV. p. 1S3. BOOK VI.] NEGOTIATIONS FOR PEACE. 31 fortunate accidents would concur a second time to deliver Naples, and to preserve the Milanese ; as he foresaw that the Italian states would not only tax him loudly with insatiable ambition, but might even turn their arms against hiin, if he should be so regardless of their danger as obstinately to protract the war, he thought it necessary, both for his safety and reputation, to give his consent to a truce. Nor was Francis willing to sustain all the blame of obstructing the re-establishment of tranquillity, or to expose himself on that account to the danger of being deserted by the Swiss and other foreigners in his service. He even began to apprehend that his own subjects would serve him coldly, if, by contributing to aggrandize the power of the infidels, which it was his duty, and had been the ambition of his ancestors, to depress, he con- tinued to act in direct opposition to all the principles which ought to influence a monarch distinguished by the title of Most Christian King. He chose, for all these reasons, rather to run the risk of disobliging his new ally, the sultan, than, by an unseasonable adherence to the treaty with him, to forfeit what was of greater con- sequence. But though both parties consented to a truce, the ple- nipotentiaries found insuperable difficulties in settling the articles of a definitive treaty. Each of the monarchs, with the arrogance of a conqueror, aimed at giving law to the other; and neither would so far acknowledge his inferiority, as to sacrifice any point of honour, or to relinquish any matter of right ; so that the plenipotentiaries spent the time in long and fruitless negotiations, and separated after agreeing to prolong the truce for a few months. [1538.] The pope, however, did not despair of accomplishing a point in which the plenipotentiaries had failed, and took upon himself the sole burden of negotiating a peace. To form a confederacy capable of defending Christendom from 32 TRUCE CONCLUDED AT NICE. [bookvi. the formidable inroads of the Turkish arms, and to concert effectual measures for the extirpation of the Lutheran heresy, were two great objects which Paul had much at heart, and he considered the union of the emperor with the king of France as an essential preliminary to both. To be the instrument of reconciling these contending monarchs, whom his predecessors by their interested and indecent intrigues had so often embroiled, was a circumstance which could not fail of throwing distinguished lustre on his cha- racter and administration. Nor was he without hopes that, while he pursued this laujaable end, he might secure advantages to his own family, the aggrandizing of which he did not neglect, though he aimed at it wdth a less audacious ambition than was common among the popes of that century. Influenced by these considerations, he proposed an interview betAveen the two monarchs at Nice, and offered to repair thither in person, that he might act as mediator in composing all their differences. When a pontiff of a venerable cliaracter, and of a very advanced age, was willing, from his zeal for peace, to undergo the fatigues of so long a journey, neither Charles nor Francis could with decency decline the interview. But though both came to the place of rendezvous, so great was the difliculty of ad- justing the ceremonial, or such the remains of distrust and rancour on each side, that they refused to see one another, and everything was transacted by the intervention of the pope, who visited them alternately. With all his zeal and ingenuity he could not find out a method of removing the obstacles which prevented a final accommodation, parti- cularly those arising from the possession of the ]\lilanesc ; nor was all the weight of his authority sufficient to over- come the obstinate perseverance of either monarch in asserting his own claims. At last, that he might not seem to have laboured altogether without efiect, he prevailed on them to sign a truce for ten years, upon the same condition with the former, that each should retain what was now in his BOOK VI.] INTEUVIEW BETWEEN CHARLES AND FRANCIS. 33 possession, and in the meantime should send ambassadors to Rome, to discuss their pretensions at leisure.-^ Thus ended a war of no long continuance, but very extensive in its operations, and in which both parties exerted their utmost strength. Though Francis failed in the object that he had principally in view, the recovery of the Milanese, he acquired, nevertheless, great reputation by the wisdom of his measures as well as the success of his arms, in repelling a formidable invasion ; and by keeping pos- session of one- half of the duke of Savoy's dominions, he added no inconsiderable accession of strength to his king- dom. Whereas Charles, repulsed and baffled, after having boasted so arrogantly of victory, purchased an inglorious truce, by sacrificing an ally who had rashly confided too much in his friendship and pow^r. The unfortunate duke murmured, complained, and i^emonstrated against a treaty so much to his disadvantage, but in vain ; he had no means of redress, and was obliged to submit. Of all his dominions, Nice, with its dependencies, was the only corner of which lie himself kept possession. He saw the rest divided between a powerful invader and the ally to whose protection he had trusted, while he remained a sad monument of the imprudence of weak princes, who, by taking part in the quarrel of mighty neighbours, between whom they happen to be situated, are crushed and overwhelmed in the shock, A few days after signing the treaty of truce, the emperor set sail for Barcelona, but was driven by contrary winds to the island of St. Margaret, on the coast of Provence. When Francis, who happened to be not far distant, heard of this, he considered it as an office of civility to invite him to take shelter in his dominions, and proposed a personal interview with hkn at Aigues-mortes. The emperor, who would not be outdone by his rival in complaisance, instantly repaired thither. As soon as he cast anchor in the road, Francis, '" Recueil des Traites, ii. 210. Re- cameiito di Nizza, ap. DuMont, Corps lazione di Nicolo Tiepolo del I'Abbo- Diplomat, par. ii. p. 174. VOL. II. D 34 - THE ASSASSINATION OF [bookvi without waiting to settle any point of ceremony, but relying implicitly on the emperor's honour for his security, visited him on board his galley, and was received and entertained with the warmest demonstrations of esteem and affection. Next day the emperor repaid the confidence which the king had placed in him. He landed at Aigues-mortes with as little precaution, and met with a reception equally cordial. He remained on shore during the night, and in both visits the two monarchs vied with each other in expressions of respect and friendship. ^^ After twenty years of open hostilities, or of secret enmity; after so many injuries reciprocally inflicted or endured ; after having formally given the lie and chal- lenged one another to single combat ; after the emperor had inveighed so publicly against Francis as a prince void of honour or integrity ; and after Francis had accused him of being accessory to the murder of his eldest son, such an interview appears altogether singular, and even unnatural. But the history of these monarchs abounds with such sur- prising transitions. From implacable hatred they appeared to pass, in a moment, to the most cordial reconcilement ; from suspicion and distrust to perfect confidence ; and from practising all the dark arts of a deceitful policy, they could assume, of a sudden, the liberal and open manners of two gallant gentlemen. The pope, besides the glory of having restored peace to Europe, gained, according to his expectation, a point of great consequence to his family, by prevailing on the em- peror to betroth Margaret of Austria, his natural daughter, formerly the wife of Alexander de' Medici, to his grandson Octavio Farncse, and, in consideration of this marriage, to bestow several honours and territories upon his future son- in-law. A very tragical event, which happened about the beginning of tin; year one thousand five hundred and *' Sandov. Hist. vol. ii. 2:58. Kcla- do Laiigucd. par D.D. Dc A' ic ct Vai- lioii dc rEiiticviic (Ic Cliailcs V. ct sctte, torn. v. Prcuvcs, p. 93. I'lan. I. par M. dc la Kivoirc. Hist. BOOK VI.] ALEXANDER DE' MEDICI. 35 thirty-seven, had deprived Margaret of her first husband. That young prince, whom the emperor's partiality had raised to the supreme power in Florence, upon the ruins of the public liberty, neglected entirely the cares of govern- ment, and abandoned himself to the most dissolute debauchery. Lorenzo de' Medici, his nearest kinsman, was not only the companion but director of his pleasures, and, employing all the powers of a cultivated and inventive genius in this dishonourable ministry, added such elegance as well as variety to vice, as gained him an absolute ascendant over the mind of Alexander. But while Lorenzo seemed to be sunk in luxury, and affected such an appear- ance of indo lence and effeminacy, that he would not wear a sword, and trembled at the sight of blood, he concealed under that disguise a dark, designing, audacious spirit. Prompted either by the love of liberty, or allured by the hope of attaining the supreme power, he determined to assassinate Alexander, his benefactor and friend. Though he long revolved this design in his mind, his reserved and suspicious temper prevented him from communicating it to any person whatever; and continuing to live with Alexander in their usual familiarity, he, one night, under pretence of having secured him an assignation wdth a lady of high rank whom he had often solicited, drew that unwary prince into a secret apartment of his house, and there stabbed him, while he lay carelessly on a couch, expecting the arrival of the lady whose company he had been promised. But no sooner w^as the deed done, than, stand- ing astonished, and struck with horror at its atrocity, he forgot, in a moment, all the motives which had induced him to commit it. Instead of rousing the people to recover their liberty by publishing the death of the tyrant, instead of taking any step towards opening his own way to the dignity now vacant, he locked the door of the apartment, and, like a man bereaved of reason and presence of mind, fled with the utmost precipitation out of the Florentine D 2 36 ALEXANDER'S SUCCESSOE, COSMO, [bookvi. territories. It was late next morning before the fate of the unfortunate prince was known, as his attendants, accustomed to his irregularities, never entered his apartment early. Immediately the chief persons in the state assembled. Being induced partly by the zeal of Cardinal Cibo for the house of Medici, to which he w^as nearly related, partly by the authority of Francis Guicciardini, who recalled to their memory, and represented in striking colours, the caprice as W'cll as turbulence of their ancient popular government, they agreed to place Cosmo de' Medici, a youth of eighteen, the only male heir of that illustrious house, at the head of the government ; though at the same time, such Avas their love of liberty, that they established several regulations in order to circumscribe and moderate his power. Meanwhile, Lorenzo, having reached a place of safety, made known what he had done to Philip Strozzi and the other Florentines who had been driven into exile, or who had voluntarily retired, when the republican form of govern- ment was abolished, in order to make way for the dominion of the Medici. By them the deed was extolled with ex- travagant praises, and the virtue of Lorenzo was compared with that of the elder Brutus, w^ho disregarded the ties of blood, or with that of the younger, wdio forgot the friend- ship and favours of the tyrant, that they might preserve or recover the liberty of their country.^^ Nor did they rest satisfied w'ith empty panegyrics ; they immediately quitted their diflercnt places of retreat, assembled forces, animated their vassals and partisans to take arms, and to seize this opportunity of re-establishing the public liberty on its ancient foundation. Being openly assisted by the French ambassador at Bomc, and secretly encouraged by the ])ope, who l)ore no good-will to the house of Medici, they entered the Florentine dominions with a considerable body of men. But the persons who had elected Cosmo possessed not only the means of supporting his government, but abilities to -" Lctlcrc dc' Principi, loni. iii. p. .'52. BOOK VI.] SUPPOUTED BY THE EMPEllOR. 37 employ them in the most proper manner. They levied, with the greatest expedition, a good number of troops ; they endeavoured by every art to gain the citizens of greatest authority, and to render the administration of the young prince agreeable to the people. Above all, they courted the emperor's protection, as the only firm foundation of Cosmo's dignity and power. Charles, knowing the propensity of the Florentines to the friendship of France, and how much all the partisans of a republican government detested him as the oppressor of their liberties, saw it to be greatly for his interest to prevent the re-establishment of the ancient constitution in Florence. For this reason, he not only acknowledo;ed Cosmo as head of the Florentine state, and conferred on him all the titles of honour with which Alexander had been dignified, but engaged to defend him to the utmost ; and, as a pledge of this, ordered the com- manders of such of his troops as were stationed on the frontiers of Tuscany, to support him against all aggressors. By their aid, Cosmo obtained an easy victory over the exiles, whose troops he surprised in the night-time, and took most of the chiefs prisoners ; an event which broke all their measures, and fully established his own authority. But though he was extremely desirous of the additional honour of marrying the emperor's daughter, the widow of his predecessor, Charles, secure already of his attachment, chose rather to gratify the pope, by bestowing her on his nephew. ^^ During the war between the emperor and Francis, an event had happened which abated in some degree the warmth and cordiality of friendship which had long sub- sisted between the latter and the king of England. James the Fifth of Scotland, an enterprising young prince, having heard of the emperor's intention to invade Provence, was so fond of showing that he did not yield to any of his ancestors -'■' Jovii Hist. c. xcviii. })• 218> &f^- Istoria de' suoi Tempi di Giov. Bat. Belcarii Comment, lib. xxii. p. 696. Adriaui. Yen. 1587, p. 10. 38 THE E^IPEROR COURTS HENEY THE EIGHTH. [bookvi. in the sincerity of liis attachment to the French crown, and so eager to distinguish himself by some miUtary exploit, that he levied a body of troops with an intention of leading them in person to the assistance of the king of France. Though some unfortunate accident prevented his carrying any troops into France, nothing could divert him from going thither in person. Immediately upon his landing, he hastened to Provence, but had been detained so long in his voyage, that he came too late to have any share in the military operations, and met the king on his return after the retreat of the imperialists. But Francis was so greatly pleased with his zeal, and no less with his manners and conversation, that he could not refuse him his daughter Magdalen, whom he demanded in marriage . It mortified Henry extremely to see a prince of whom he was immode- rately jealous, form an alhance, from which he derived such an accession of reputation as well as security .^° He could not, however, with decency, oppose Francis's bestowing his daughter upon a monarch descended from a race of princes, the most ancient and faithful allies of the French crown. But when James, upon the sudden death of Magdalen, demanded as his second wife Mary of Guise, he warmly solicited Francis to deny his suit, and, in order to disap- point him, asked that lady in marriage for himself. When Francis preferred the Scottish king's sincere courtship to his artful and malevolent proposal, he discovered much dissatisfaction. The pacification agreed upon at Nice, and the famihar interview of the two rivals at Aigucs-mortcs, filled Henry's mind with new suspicions, as if Francis had altogether renounced his friendship for the sake of new connexions with the emperor. Charles, thoroughly ac- quainted with the temper of the English king, and watchful to observe all the shiftings and caprices of his passions, tiiought this a favourable opportunity of renewing his negotiations with him, which had been long broken off. '"' Hist, of Scotland, vol. i. p. 7.5. BOOK. VI.] PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 39 By tlie death of Queen Catharine, whose interest the emperor could not with decency have abandoned, the chief cause of their discord was removed; so that, without touching upon the dehcate question of lier divorce, he might now take what measures he thought most effectual for regaining Henry's good wilL Tor this purpose, he began with proposing several marriage-treaties to the king. He offered his niece, a daughter of the kmg of Denmark, to Henry himself; he demanded the princess Mary, for one of the princes of Portugal, and was even willing to receive her as the king's illegitimate daughter.^^ Though none of these projected alliances ever took place, or perhaps were ever seriously intended, they occasioned such frequent intercourse between the courts, and so many reciprocal professions of civility and esteem, as considerably abated the edge of Henry's rancour against the emperor, and paved the way for that union between them which after- wards proved so disadvantageous to the Trench king. The ambitious schemes in which the emperor had been engaged, and the Avars he had been carrying on for some years, proved, as usual, extremely favourable to the progress of the reformation in Germany. While Charles was absent upon his African expedition, or intent on his projects against France, his chief object in Germany was to prevent the dissensions about religion from disturbing the public tranquillity, by granting such indulgence to the protestant princes as might induce them to concur with his measures, or at least hinder them from taking part with his rival. For this reason, he was careful to secure to the protestants the possession of all the advantages Avhich they had gained by the articles of pacification at Nuremberg, in the year one thousand five hundred and thirty-two ;^^ and, except some slight trouble from the proceedings of the imperial chamber, they met with nothing to disturb them in the •" Mem. de Ribicr, foni. i. 490. ^- Du Mont, Corps Diploni. torn. iv. part ii. p. 138. 40 NEGOTIATIONS FOR A GENERAL COUNCIL. [bookvi. exercise of their religion, or to interrupt the successful zeal with which they propagated tlieu' opinions. jMeanwhile, the pope continued his negotiations for convoking a general council; and though the protest ants had expressed great dissatisfaction with his intention to fix upon Mantua as the place of meeting, he adhered obstinately to his choice, and issued a bull on the second of June, one thousand five hundred and thirty-six, appointing it to assemble in thai city on the twenty-third of j\Iay, the year following ; he nominated three cardinals to preside in his name ; enjoined all Christian princes to countenance it by their authority, and invited the prelates of every nation to attend in person. This summons of a council, an assembly which, from its nature and intention, demanded quiet times, as well as pacific dispositions, at the very juncture when the emperor was on his march towards France, and ready to involve a great part of Europe in the confusions of war, appeared to every person extremely unseasonable. It was intimated, however, to all the different courts by nuncios despatched on purpose,^^ With an intention to gratify the Germans, the emperor, during his residence in Rome, had warmly solicited the pope to call a council ; but being at the same time willing to try every art in order to persuade Paul to depart from the neutrality which he preserved between him and Francis, he sent Heldo, his vice-chancellor, into Germany, along with a nuncio despatched thither, instruct- ing him to second all the nuncio's representations, and to enforce them with the whole weight of the imperial authority. The protestants gave them audience at Smal- kalde, where they had assembled in a body, in order to receive them. But after weighing all their arguments, they unanimously refused to acknowledge a conncil summoned in the name and l)y the authority of the pope alone ; in which he assumed the sole right of ])rcsiding ; which was to be held in a city not only far distant from Germany, ^ rallavic. Hist. Cone. Trid. 113. BOOK VI.] PARTIAL REFORMATION BY TIIE POPE. 41 but subject to a prince who was a stranger to them, and closely connected with the court of Rome ; and to which their divines could not repair with safety, especially after their doctrines had been stigmatized in the very bull of convocation with the name of heresy. These and many other objections against the council, which appeared to them unanswerable, they enumerated in a large manifesto, which they published in vindication of their conduct.^* Against this the court of Rome exclaimed as a flagrant proof of their obstinacy and presumption, and the pope still persisted in his resolution to hold the council at the time and in the place appointed. But some unexpected difficulties being started by the duke of Mantua, both about the right of jurisdiction over the persons who resorted to the council, and the security of his capital amidst such a concourse of strangers, the pope, after fruitless endeavours to adjust these, first prorogued the council for some months, and afterwards transferring the place of meeting to Vicenza, in the Venetian territories, appointed it to assemble on the first of May in the following year. As neither the emperor nor the French king, who had not then come to any accom- modation, would permit their subjects to repair thither, not a single prelate appeared on the day prefixed, and the pope, that his authority might not become altogether contemptible by so many ineffectual efforts to convoke that assembly, put off the meeting by an indefinite prorogation.^^ But, that he might not seem to have turned his whole attention towards a reformation which he was not able to accomplish, while he neglected that which was in his own power, he deputed a certain number of cardinals and bishops, with full authority to inquire into the abuses and corruptions of the Roman court ; and to propose the most effectual method of removing them. This scrutiny, under- taken with reluctance, was carried on slowly and with ^ Slciel. lib. xii. 123, &c. S(!ckeud. Com. lib. iii. p. Ii3, &c. ^ P. Paul, 117. Pullavic. 177. 42 THE FORMATION OF THE 'HOLY LEAGUE.' [bookvi. remissness. All defects were touched with a gentle hand, afraid of probing too deep, or of discovering too much. But even by this partial examination, many irregularities were detected, and many enormities exposed to light, while the remedies which they suggested as most proper, were either inadequate, or were never applied. The report and resolution of these deputies, though intended to be kept secret, were transmitted by some accident into Germany, and, being immediately made public, afforded ample matter for reflection and triumph to the protestants.^'^ On the one hand, they demonstrated the necessity of a reformation^ in the head as well as the members of the church, and even pointed out many of the corruptions against Avhich Luther and his followers had remonstrated with the greatest vehe- mence. They showed, on the other hand, that it was vain to expect this reformation from ecclesiastics themselves, who, as Luther strongly expressed it, piddled at curing warts, while they overlooked or confirmed ulcers.^'' [1539.] The earnestness with which the emperor seemed at first, to press their acquiescing in the pope's sclieme of holding a council in Italy, alarmed the protestant princes so much, that they thought it prudent to strengtheu their confederacy, by admitting several new members who solicited that privilege, particularly the king of Denmark. Ilcldo, who, during his residence in Germany, had observed all the advantages Avhich they derived from that union, endeavoured to counterbalance its effects by an alliance among the catliolio powers of the empire. This league, distinguished by the name of //o///, was merely defensive ; and, though concluded by llcldo in the emperor's name, was aftei'wards disowned by him, and subscribed by very few ])rinccs.''® The protcstants soon got intelligence of this association, notwithstanding all the endeavours of the contracting parties ;" Slcid. 23:i. •''■ Scfk. lib. iii. IGJ.. *" Idciii, lib. iii. J7L Kccueil dc Traitcs. BOOK VI.] ALARMS THE PROTESTANTS. 43 to conceal it ; and their zeal, always apt to suspect and to dread, even to excess, everything that seemed to threaten religion, instantly took the alarm, as if the emperor had been just ready to enter upon the execution of some for- midable plan for the extirpation of their opinions. In order to disappoint this, they held frequent consultations, they courted the kings of France and England with great assiduity, and even began to thhik of raising the respective contingents, both in men and money, which they were obliged to furnish by the treaty of Smalkalde. But it was not long before they were convinced that these apprehen- sions were without foundation, and that the emperor, to whom repose was absolutely necessary after efforts so much beyond his strength in the war with France, had no thoughts of disturbing the tranquillity of Germany. As a proof of this, at an interview with the protestant princes in Francfort, his ambassadors agreed that all concessions in their favour, particularly those contained in the pacification of Nuremberg, should continue in force for fifteen months ; that during this period all proceedings of the imperial chamber against them should be suspended ; that a conference should be held by a few divines of each party, in order to discuss the points in controversy, and to propose articles of accommoda- tion which should be laid before the next diet. Though the emperor, that he might not irritate the pope, who remonstrated against the first part of this agreement as impolitic, and against the latter as an impious encroachment upon his prerogative, never formally ratified this convention, it was observed with considerable exactness, and greatly strengthened the basis of that ecclesiastical liberty for which the protestants contended. '^'^ A few days after the convention at Francfort, George^, duke of Saxony, died, and his death was an event of great advantage to the reformation. That prince, the head of the Albertine, or younger branch of the Saxon family, pos- 33 F. Paul, 82. Sleid. 247. Seek. lib. iii. 200. 44 THE REFOR]MATION IN SAXONY. [book vi. sessecl, as marquis of Misnia and Tliuriiigia, extensive territories, comprehending Dresden, Leipsic, and other cities now the most considerable in the electorate. From the first dawn of the reformation, he had been its enemy as avowedly as the electoral princes were its protectors, and had carried on his opposition not only with all the zeal flowing from religions prejudices, but with a virulence inspired by personal antipathy to Luther, and embittered by the domestic animosity subsisting between him and the other branch of his family. By his death without issue, his succession fell to his brother Henry, whose attachment to the protestant religion surpassed, if possible, that of his predecessor to popery. Henry no sooner took possession of his new dominions, than, disregarding a clause in Gteorge's M ill, dictated by his bigotry, whereby he bequeathed all his territories to the emperor and king of the Romans, if his brother should attempt to make any innovation in religion, he invited some protestant divines, and among them Luther lumself, to Leipsic. By their advice and assistance, he overturned in a few weeks the whole system of ancient rites, establishing tiie full exercise of the reformed religion, with the universal applause of his subjects, who had long wished for this change, which the authority of their duke .'done had hitherto prevented.^" This revolution delivered the protestants from the danger to which they were exposed by having an inveterate enemy situated in the middle of their territories ; and they had now the satisfaction of seeing that the possessions of the princes and cities attached to their cause extended in one great and almost unbroken line from the shore of the J^altic to the banks of the Rhiiic. Soon after the conclusion of the truce at Nice, an event hapj^ened, which satisfied all Europe that Charles had pro- secuted the war to the utmost extremity that the state of his affairs would pci'init. Vast arrears Avere due lo liis troops, whom he had long amused with vain hopes and '" Sleid. 219. BOOK VI.] STATE OF THE EMPEROR'S FINANCES. 45 promises. As they now foresaw what little attention would be paid to their demands, when by the re-cstal)lislimcnt of peace their services became of less importance, they lost all patience, broke out into an open mutiny, and declared that they thought themselves entitled to seize by violence what was detained from them contrary to all justice. Nor was this spirit of sedition confined to one part of the emperor's dominions ; the mutiny was almost as general as the griev- ance which gave rise to it. The soldiers in the Milanese plundered the open country without control, and filled the capital itself with consternation. Those in garrison at Goletta threatened to give up that important fortress to Barbarossa. In Sicily the troops proceeded to still greater excesses : having driven away their officers, they elected others in their stead, defeated a body of men whom the viceroy sent against them, took and pillaged several cities, conducting themselves all the while in such a manner, that their operations resembled rather the regular proceedings of a concerted rebellion, than the rashness and violence of military mutiny. But by the address and prudence of the generals, who, partly by borrowing money in their own name, or in that of their master, partly by extorting large sums from the cities in their respective provinces, raised what was sufficient to discharge the arrears of the soldiers, these insurrections were quelled. The greater part of the troops were disbanded, such a number only being kept in pay as was necessary for garrisoning the principal towns, and protecting the sea-coasts from the insults of the Turks.'" It was happy for the emperor that the abilities of his generals extricated him out of these difticulties, which it exceeded his own power to have removed. He had de- pended, as his chief resource for discharging the arrears due to his soldiers, upon the subsidies which he expected from his Castilian subjects. For this purpose, he assembled "" Jovii Histor. lib. xxxvii. 203 c. Sandov. Ferreras, ix. 209. 46 THE CORTES SUBYERTED. [bookvi. the Cortes of Castile at Toledo ; and having represented to them the extraordinary expense of his military operations, together with the great debts in which these had neces- sarily involved him, he proposed to levy such supplies as the present exigency of his aflPairs demanded, by a general excise on commodities. But the Spaniards already felt themselves oppressed with a load of taxes unknown to their ancestors. They had often complained that their country was drained not only of its wealth but of its inhabitants, in order to prosecute quarrels in which it was not interested, and to fight battles from which it could reap no benefit, and they determined not to add voluntarily to their own burdens, or to furnish the emperor with the means of engaging in new enterprises, no less ruinous to the kingdom than most of those which he had hitherto carried on. The nobles, in particular, inveighed with great vehemence against the imposition proposed, as an encroachment upon the valuable and distinguishing privilege of their order, that of being exempted from the payment of any tax. They demanded a conference with the representatives of the cities concerning the state of the nation. They contended that if Charles would imitate the example of his predeces- sors, who had resided constantly in Spain, and would avoid entangling himself in a multiplicity of transactions foreign to the concerns of his Spanish dominions, the stated revenues of the crown would be fully sufficient to defray the necessary expenses of government. They represented to him, that it would be unjust to lay new burdens upon the people, while this prudent and effectual method of re- establisliing public credit, and securing national opulence, was totally neglected.'" Charles, after employing argu- ments, entreaties, and promises, but without success, in order to overcome their obstinacy, dismissed the assembly with great indignation. From that period neither the nobles nor the prelates have been called to these assemblies, ''- Sandov. Hist. vol. ii. 2G9. BOOK VI.] PRIVILEGES OF TIIE SPANISH GRANDEES. 47 on pretence that such as pay no part of the piibUc taxes should not claim any vote in laying them on. None have been admitted to the cortcs but the procurators or repre- sentatives of eighteen cities. These, to the number of thirty- six, being two from each community, form an assembly which bears no resemblance, either in power or dignity or independence, to the ancient cortes, and are absolutely at the devotion of the court in all their determinations.''^ Thus the imprudent zeal with which the Castilian nobles had supported the regal prerogative, in opposition to the claims of the commons during the commotions in the year one thousand live hundred and twenty-one, proved at last fatal to their own body. By enabling Charles to depress one of the orders in the state, they destroyed that balance to which the constitution owed its security, and put it in his power, or in that of his successors, to humble the other, and to strip it gradually of its most valuable privileges. At that time, however, the Spanish grandees still pos- sessed extraordinary power as well as privileges, which they exercised and defended with a haughtiness peculiar to themselves. Of this the emperor himself had a mortifying proof during the meeting of the cortes at Toledo. As he was returning one day from a tom'nament, accompanied by most of the nobility, one of the Serjeants of the court, out of officious zeal to clear the way for the emperor, struck the duke of Infantado's horse with his batoon, which tahf lH haughty grandee resenting, drew his sword, beat and wounded the officer. Charles, provoked at such an in- solent deed in his presence, immediately ordered Ronquillo, the judge of the court, to arrest the duke. Ronquillo advanced to execute his charge, when the constable of Castile interposing, checked him, claimed, the right of juris- diction over a grandee as a privilege of his office, and con- ducted Infantado to his own apartment. All the nobles ^ Sandov. Hist. vol. ii. 2G9. La Science du Gouvernement, par M. de Real, torn. ii. p. 102. 48 INSURKECTION AT GHEKT. [book vi. present were so pleased with the boldness of the constable in assertmg the rights of their order, that, deserting the emperor, they attended him to his honse with infinite applauses, and Charles returned to the palace, unaccom- panied by any person but the Cardinal Tavera. The emperor, how sensible soever of the affront, saw the danger of irritating a jealons and high-spirited order of men, whom the slightest a ppearance of offence might drive to the most nuAvarrantable extremities. For that reason, instead of straining at any ill-timed exertion of his prerogative, he prudently connived at the arrogance of a body too potent for him to control, and sent next morning to the duke of Infantado, offering to inflict what punishment he pleased on the person who had affronted him. The duke, con- siderhig this as a full reparation to his honour, instantly forgave the ofhcer; bestowing on him, besides, a consi- derable present as a compensation for his wound. Thus the affair was entirely forgotten ;''^ nor would it have deserved to be mentioned, if it were not a striking example of the high and independent spirit of the Spanish nobles in that age, as well as an instance of the emperor's dexterity in accommodating his conduct to the circumstances in which he was placed. Charles was far from discovering the same condescension or lenity towards the citizens of Ghent, who, not long after, broke out into open rebellion against his government. An \ ^ event which happened in the year one thousand five Imndred and thirty-six, gave occasion to this rash insurrec- tion, so fatal to that flourishing city. At that time, the (juccn-dowager of Hungary, governess of the Netherlands, liaving received orders from her brother to invade France with all the forces which she could raise, she assembled the states of the United Provinces, and obtained from them a subsidy of twelve hundred thousand florins, to defray the expense of that undertaking. Of this sum, the county ^^ Sandov. ii. 274. Fcrrcras, ix. 212. JMiiiiaua, 113. BOOK VI.] INSURRECTION AT GHENT. 49 of Flanders was obliged to pay a third part as its propor- tion. But the citizens of Ghent, the most considerable city in that country, averse to a war with France, with which they carried on an extensive and gainful commerce, refused to pay tiieir quota, and contended that, in conse- quence of stipulations between them and the ancestors of their present sovereign, the emperor, no tax could be leviedT upon them, unless they had given their express consentTo the inTposition of it. The governess, on the other hand, maintained, that as the subsidy of twelve hundred thousand florins had been granted by the states of Flanders, of which their representatives were members, they were bound, of course, to conform to what was enacted by them, as it is the first principle in society, on which the tranquillity and order of government depend, that the inclinations of the minority must be overruled by the judgment and deci- sion of the superior number. The citizens of Ghent, however, were not willing to relinquish a privilege of such high importance as that which they claimed. Flaving been accustomed, under the govern- ment of the house of Burgundy, to enjoy extensive im- munities, and to be treated with much indulgence, they disdained to sacrifice to the delegated power of a regent those rights and privileges which they had often and suc- cessfully asserted against their greatest princes. The queen, though she endeavoured at first to soothe them, and to reconcile them to their duty by various concessions, was at last so much irritated by the obstinacy with which they ad- hered to their claim, that she ordered all the citizens of Ghent, on whom she could lay hold in any part of the Netherlands, to be arrested. But this rash action made an impi'cssion very different from what she expected, on men whose minds were agitated with all the violent passions which indignation at oppression and zeal for liberty inspire. Less affected v^itli the danger of their friends and com- panions, than irritated at the governess, they openly despised VOL. II. E 50 IXSURRECTIOX AT GHENT, AXD THE [book vi. lier authority, and sent deputies to the other towns of Flanders, conjuring them not to abandon their country at such a juncture, but to concur with them in vindicating its rights against the encroachments of a woman, who either did not know or did not reo-ard their immunities. All but a few inconsiderable towns declined enterins; into any confederacy against the governess : they joined, how- ever, in petitioning her to put off the term for payment of the tax so long, that they might have it in their power to send some of their number into Spain, in order to lay their title to exemption before their sovereign. This she granted with some difficulty. But Charles received thcii* commissioners with a haughtiness to which they were not accustomed from their ancient princes ; and, enjoining them to yield the same respectful obedience to his sister which they owed to him in person, remitted the examina- tion of their claims to the council of INIalines. This court, which is properly a standing committee of the parliament or states of the country, and which possesses the supreme jurisdiction in all matters civil as well as criminal," pro- nounced the claim of the citizens of Ghent to be ill-founded, and appointed them forthwith to pay their proportion of the tax. Enraged at this decision, which they considered as notoriously unjust, and rendered desperate on seeing their rights betrayed by that very court which was bound to protect them, the people of Ghent ran to arms in a tumul- tuary manner, drove such of the nobiUty as resided among them out of the city ; secured several of the emperor's officers ; put one of them to the torture, whom they accused of having stolen or destroyed the record that contained a ratification of the privileges of exemption from taxes which they pleaded ; chose a council, to which they committed the direction of their affairs ; gave orders for repairing and adding to their fortifications ; and openly " Descrittioiic di tutli Taesi Bassi di Lud. Guicciardini. Ant. 1571, fol. p. 53. jL BOOK VI.] GANTOIS OFFER SUBMISSION TO FRANCE. 51 erected the standard of rebellion against tlicir sovereign.'"' Sensil)lc, however, of their inability to support what their zeal had prompted them to undertake, and desirous of securing a protector against the formidable forces by which they might expect soon to be attacked, they sent some of their number to I'rancis, offering not only to acknowledge him as their sovereign, and to put him in immediate possession of Ghent, but to assist him with all their forces in recovering those provinces in the Netherlands, which had anciently belonged to the crown of France, and had been so lately reunited to it by the decree of the parliament of Paris. This unexpected proposition, coming from persons who had it in their power to have performed instantly one part of what they undertook, and who could contribute so effectually towards the execution of the whole, opened great as well as alluring prospects to Francis's ambition. The counties of Flanders and Artois were of greater value than the duchy of Milan, which he had so long laboured to acquire wdth passionate but fruitless desire ; their situation with respect to France rendered it more easy to conquer or to defend them ; and they might be formed into a separate principality for the duke of Orleans, no less suitable to his dignity than that which his father aimed at obtaining. To this, the Flemings, who were acquainted with the French manners and government, would not have been averse ; and his own subjects, weary of their destructive expeditions into Italy, would have turned their arms towards this quarter with more good-will, and with greater vigour. Several considerations, nevertheless, prevented Francis from laying hold of this opportunity, the most favourable in appearance m Inch had ever presented itself of extending his own dominions or distressing the emperor. From the time of their interview at Aigues-mortes, Charles *'' Memoires sur la Revolte des Heuter. Rer. Austr. lib. xi. p. 2G2. Gantois eu 1539, par Jeaud'Hollandcr, Sandov. Hist. toni. ii. p. 2S2. ecrits en 1547. A la Haye, ] 747- P- E 2 52 FRANCIS REJECTS THE REBELS' PROPOS.M.S. [book vi. liacl contiuiied to court the king of Frfince with wonderful attention ; and often flattered him with hopes of gratifying at last his wishes concerning the IMilanese, by granting the investiture of it either to him or to one of his sons. But though these hopes and promises were thrown out with no other intention than to detach him from his confederacy with the grand seignior, or to raise suspicions in Solyman's mind by the appearance of a cordial and familiar inter- course subsisting between the courts of Paris and Madrid, Francis Avas weak enough to catch at the shadow by which he had been so often amused, and from eagerness to seize it, rehnquish what must have proved a more substantial acquisition. Besides this, the dauphin, jealous to excess of his brother, and unwilling that a prince who seemed to be of a restless and enterprising nature should obtain an establishment, which from its situation might be con- sidered almost as a domestic one, made use of Montmo- rency, who, by a singular piece of good fortune, was at the same time the favourite of the father and of the son, to defeat the application of the Flemings, and to divert the king from espousing their cause. Montmorency, accord- ingly, represented, in strong terms, the reputation and ])Ower which Francis would acquire by recovering that footing which he had formerly in Italy, and that nothing could be so efficacious to overcome the emperor's aversion to this, as a sacred adherence to the truce, and refusing, on an occasion so inviting, to countenance the rebellious subjects of his rival. Francis, apt of himself to over-rate the value of the IMilanese, because he estimated it from the lengtli of time as well as from the great efforts which he had employed in order to reconquer it, and fond of every action whicli had tlie appearance of generosity, as- sented witliout diiliculty to sentiments so agreeable to his own, rejected tlie propositions of the citizens of Ghent, and dismissed their deputies with a harsli answer." *"> Mem. de BcUay, p. 2G3. V. llcutcr. Rcr. Anslr. lib. xi. p. 203. jti BOOK VI.] CHARLES'S JOURNEY TO THE NETHERLANDS. 53 Not satisfied with this, by a further refinement in generosity, he communicated to the emperor his whole negotiation with the malccontents, and all that he knew of their schemes and intentions/^ This convincing proof of Francis's disinterestedness relieved Charles from the most disquieting apprehensions, and opened a Avay to extricate himself out of all his difficulties. He had already received full information of all the transactions in the Netherlands, and"l of the rage with which the people of Ghent had taken arms / against his government. He was thoroughly acquainted ,[>' with the genius and qualities of his subjects in that country; with their love of liberty ; their attachment to their ancient privileges and customs ; as well as the invincible obstinacy with which their minds, slow, but firm and persevering, adhered to any measure on which they had deliberately resolved. He easily saw what encouragement and support they might have derived from the assistance of France ; and though now free from any danger in that quarter, he was still sensible that some immediate as well as vigorous interposition was necessary, in order to prevent the spirit of disaffection from spreading in a country where the number of cities, the multitude of people, together with the great wealth diffused among them by commerce, rendered it peculiarly formidable, and w^ould supply it with inex- haustible resources. No expedient, after long deliberation, appeared to him so effectual as his going in person to the Netherlands ; and the governess, his sister, being of the same opinion, warmly solicited him to undertake the journey. There were only two routes which he could take ; one by land through Italy and Germany, the other entirely by sea, from some port in Spain to one in the Low Countries. But the former was more tedious than suited the present exigency of his affairs ; nor could he, in consistency with his dignity, or even his safety, pass through Germany without such a train both of attendants and of troops, as <» Saudov. Hist. torn. ii. p. 284. 54 CHAELES PROPOSES TO PASS THROUGH FRANCE, [book vr. would have added greatly to the time that he must have consumed in his journey ; the latter was dangerous at this season, and, while he remained uncertain with respect to the friendship of the king of England, was not to be ventured upon, unless under the convoy of a powerful fleet. This perplexing situation, in which he was under the necessity of choosing, and did not know what to choose, inspired him at last with the singular and seemingly extravagant thought of passing through France, as the most expeditious way of reaching the Netherlands. He proposed in his council to demand Francis's permission for that purpose. All his counsellors joined with one voice in condemning the measure as no less rash than unpre- cedented, and which must infallibly expose him to disgrace or danger ; to disgrace, if the demand were rejected in the manner that he had reason to expect ; to danger, if he put his person in the power of an enemy whom he had often offended, who had ancient injuries to revenge, as well as subjects of present contest still remaining undecided. But Charles, who had studied the character of his rival with greater care and more profound discernment than any of his ministers, persisted in his plan, and flattered himself that it might be accomplished not only without danger to his own person, but even without the expense of any concession detrimental to his crown. With this view, he communicated the matter to the French ambassador at his court, and sent Granville, his chief minister, to Paris, in order to obtain from Francis permission to pass through his dominions, and to promise that he would soon settle the aff"iur of the Milanese to his satisfaction. But, at the same time, he entreated that Francis would not exact any new promise, or even insist on former engagements, at this juncture, lest whatever he should grant, under his present circumstances, might seem rather (o be extorted by necessity, tlian to flow from friendship or the love of justice. Francis, instead of BOOK VI.] HIS RECEPTION IN TRA.T KINGDOM. 55 attending to the snare which such a slight artifice scarcely concealed, was so dazzled with the splendour of overcoming an enemy by acts of generosity, and so pleased with the air of superiority, which the rectitude and disinterestedness of his proceedings gave him on this occasion, that he at once assented to all that was demanded. Judging of the emperor's heart by his own, he imagined that the senti- ments of gratitude, arising from the remembrance of good offices and liberal treatment, would determine him more forcibly to fulfil what he had so often promised, than \J^ the most precise stipulations that could be inserted in any ( / | ij treaty. Upon this, Charles, to whom every moment was precious, set out, notwithstanding the fears and suspicions of his Spanish subjects, with a small but splendid train of about a hundred persons. At Bayonne, on the frontiers of France, he was received by the dauphin and the duke of Orleans, attended by the constable, IMontmorency. The two princes offered to go into Spain, and to remain there as hostages for the emperor's safety ; but this he rejected, declaring, that he relied w^th implicit confidence on the king's honour, and had never demanded, nor would accept of, any other pledge for his security. In all the towns through which he passed, the greatest possible magnificence was displayed ; the magistrates presented him the keys of the gates ; the prison doors were set open ; and, by the royal honours paid to him, he appeared more like the sovereign of the country than a foreign prince. [1540.] The king advanced as far as Chatelherault to meet him ; their interview was distinguished by the warmest expressions of friendship and regard. They proceeded together towards Paris, and presented to the inhabitants of that city the extraordinary spectacle of two rival monarchs, whose enmity had disturbed and laid waste Europe during twenty years, making their solemn entry together with all the symptoms of a confidential harmony, as if they had forgotten 56 CH.iRLESS DUPLICITY. [book vi. for ever past injuries, and wonld not revive hostilities for he future."^^ Charles remained six days at Paris ; but, amidst the perpetual caresses of the French court, and the various entertainments contrived to amuse or to do him honour, he discovered an extreme impatience to continue his journc}^, arising as much from an apprehension of danger which constantly haunted him, as from the necessity of his presence in the Low Countries. Conscious of the disin- genuity of his own intentions, he trembled when he reflected that some fatal accident might betray him to his rival, or lead him to suspect them ; and, though his artifices to conceal them sliould be successful, he could not help fearing that motives of interest might at last triumph over the scruples of honour, and tempt Francis to avail himself of the advantage now in his hands. Nor were there wanting persons among the French ministers, who advised the king to turn his own arts against the emperor; and, as the retri- bution due for so many instances of fraud or falsehood, to seize and detain his person until he granted him full satis- faction with regard to all the just claims of the French crown, But no consideration could induce Francis to violate the faith which he had pledged ; nor could any argument convince him that Charles, after all the promises that he had gi\'en, and all the favours which he had received, might still ]je capable of deceiving him. Full of this false confidence, he accompanied him to St. Qucntin ; and the two princes, who had met him on the borders of Spain, did not take leave of him until be entered his dominions in the Low Countries. As soon as the emperor reached his own territories, the French ambassadors demanded the accomplishnumt of wluit lie had promised concerning the investiture of ]\Iilan ; but Charles, under the plausible pretext that his whole attention was then engrossed by the consultations necessary Tliuaii. llibl. lib. i. c. J 1. Mem. dc IJcllay, i).2Ci. BOOK VI.] HIS VENGEANCE UPON GHENT. 57 towards suppressing tlie rebellion in Ghent, put off the matter for some time. Rut in order to prevent Prancis from suspecting his sincerity, he still conthmed to talk of his resolutions with respect to that matter in the same strain as when he entered France, and even wrote to the king much to the same purpose, though in general terms, and with equivocal expressions, which he might afterwards explain away, or interpret at pleasure/*' Meanwhile, the nnfortunate citizens of Ghent, destitute of leaders capable either of directing their comicils or conducting their troops ; abandoned by the French king, and unsupported by their countrymen ; were unable to resist their offended sovereign, who was ready to advance "against them with one body of troops which he had raised in the Netherlands, with another drawn out of Germany, and a third which had arrived from Spain by sea. The near approach of danger made them, at last, so sensible of their own folly, that they sent ambassadors to the emperor, imploring his mercy, and offering to set open their gates at at his approach. Charles, without vouchsafing them any other answer, than that he would appear among them as their sovereign, with the sceptre and the sword in his hand, began his march at the head of his troops. Though he chose to enter the city on the twenty-fourth of February, his birth-day, he was touched with nothing of that tender- ness or indulgence which was natural towards the place of his nativity. Twenty-six of the principal citizens were put to death ; a greater number was sent into banishment ; the city was declared to have forfeited all its privileges and ^' immunities; the revenues belonging to it were confiscated; its ancient form of government was abolished ; the nomina- tion of its magistrates was vested for the future in the emperor and his successors ; a new system of laws and political administration was prescribed ; ^' and in order to ^" Mem. de Eibier, i. 501. de Flandrcs, par Alex, le Graml, 3 torn. *' Les Coutumes ot Loix. du Comte fol. Canibray, ] 719, loui. i. p. 1G9. 58 ■ CHARLES'S REFUSAL TO FULFIL [bookvi. bridle the seditious spirit of the citizens, orders were given to erect a strong citadel, for defraying the expense of which a fine of a hundred and fifty thousand florins was imposed on the inhabitants, together with an annual tax of six thousand florins for the support of the garrison/- By these rigorous proceedings, Charles not only punished the citizens of Ghent, but set an awful example of severity before his other subjects in the Netherlands, whose immu- nities and privileges, partly the effect, partly the cause of their extensive commerce, circumscribed the prerogative of their sovereign within very narrow bounds, and often stood in the way of measures wdiich he wished to undertake, or fettered and retarded him in his operations. Charles having thus vindicated and re-established his authority in the Low Countries, and being now under no necessity of continuing the same scene of falsehood and dissimulation with which he had long amused Francis, began gradually to throw aside the veil under wdiich he had concealed his intentions with respect to the Milanese. At first, he eluded the demands of the French ambassadors, when they again reminded him of his promises ; then he proposed, by way of equivalent for the duchy of Milan, to grant the duke of Orleans the investiture of Flanders, clogging the offer, however, with impracticable conditions, or such as he knew would be rejected.*^ At last, being driven from all his evasions and subterfuges by their insist- ing for a categorical answer, he peremptorily refused to give up a territory of such value, or voluntarily to make such a liberal addition to the strength of an enemy by diminishing his own power.^^ He denied, at the same time, that he had ever made any promise which could bind him to an action so foolish, and so contrary to his own interest." Of all the transactions in the emperor's life, this, without ^^ Ilarsci Annales Brabantlac, vol. i. ''' Ibid. 519. GIG. <>■- M('ni. lie Eclhiv, :iC>:>, 3GG. " MC-m. dc Ribicr, i. 509, 5 11-. BOOK VI.] HIS ENGAGEMENTS TO FRANCIS. 59 doubt, reflects the greatest dishonour on his reputation. ^'^ Though Charles was not extremely scrupulous at other times about the means which he employed for accomplish- ing his ends, and was not always observant of the strict precepts of veracity and honour, he had hitherto maintained some regard for the maxims of that less precise and rigid morality by which monarchs think themselves entitled to regulate their conduct. But on this occasion, the scheme-/ that he formed of deceiving a generous and open-hearted prince ; the illiberal and mean artifices by which he carried it on ; the insensibility with which he received all the marks of his friendship, as well as the ingratitude with which he requited them ; are all equally unbecoming the dignity of his character, and inconsistent with the grandeur of his views. This transaction exposed Francis to as much scorn as it did the emperor to censure. After the experience of a long reign, after so many opportunities of discovering the duplicity and artifices of his rival, the credulous simplicity with which he trusted him at this juncture seemed to merit no other return than what it actually met with. Francis, however, remonstrated and exclaimed, as if this had been the first instance in which the emperor had deceived him. Feeling, as is usual, the insult which was offered to his understanding still more sensibly than the injury done to his interest, he discovered such resentment as made it obvious that he would lay hold on the first opportunity of being revenged, and that a w^ar, no less rancorous than that which had so lately raged, would soon break out anew in Europe. But singular as the transaction Avhich has been related may appear, this year is rendered still more memorable by the establishment of the order of Jesuits ; a body whose influence on ecclesiastical as well as civil affairs hath been so considerable, that an account of the genius of its laws *" Jovii Hist. lib. xxxix. p. 2oS a. 60 LOYOLA, FOUKDER OF THE JESUITS. [bookvi. and government justly merits a place in liistoiy. When men take a view of the rapid progress of this society towards wealth and power; when they contemplate the admirable prudence mth whicli it has been governed; when they attend to the persevering and systematic spirit with which its schemes have been carried on ; they are apt to ascribe such a singular institution to the superior wisdom of its founder, and to suppose that he had formed and digested his plan with profound policy. But the Jesuits, as well as the other monastic orders, are indebted for the existence of their order, not to the wisdom of their founder, but to his enthusiasm. Ignatio Loyola, whom I have already mentioned on occasion of the wound which he received in defending Pampeluna," was a fanatic distin- guished by extravagances in sentiment and conduct, no less incompatible with the maxims of sober reason, than repugnant to the spirit of true religion. The wild ad- ventures, and visionary schemes, in Avhich his enthusiasm engaged him, equal anything recorded in the legends of the Roman saints, but are unworthy of notice in history. Prompted by this fanatical spirit, or incited by the love of power and distinction, from which such pretenders to superior sanctity are not exempt, Loyola was ambitious of becoming the founder of a religious order. The plan which he formed of its constitution and laws, was suggested, as he gave out, and as his followers still teach, by the imme- diate inspiration of heaven.^'* But notwithstanding this high pretension, his design met at first with violent oppo- sition. The pope, to whom Loyola had applied for the sanction of his authority to confirm the institution, referred his petition to a committee of cardinals. They represented the establishment to be unnecessary as well as dangerous, and Paul refused to grant his approbation of it. " Vol. I. Book ii. n. '21)1. dcs Jcsuitcs ;iu rarlcmciil dc Pro- ^^ Coniplc rciidu ucs Couslitutions vcucc, pur. N. dc Mouclur, p. 285. BOOKYi.] CONSTITUTION AND rOLICY OF THE ORDER. 01 At last, Loyola removed all his scrui)les by an offer which it was impossible for any pope to resist. He proposed that, besides the three vows of poverty, of chastity, and of monastic obedience, which are common to all the orders of regulars, the members of his society should take a fourth vow of obedience to the pope, binding themselves to go whithersoever he should conunand for the service of religion, and without requiring anything from the holy see for their support. At a time when the papal authority had received such a shock by the revolt of so many nations from the Romish Church ; at a time when every part of the popish system was attacked with so much violence and success, the acquisition of a body of men, thus peculiarly devoted to the see of Rome, and whom it might set in opposition to all its enemies, was an object of the highest consequence. Paul, instantly perceiving this, confirmed the institution of the Jesuits by his bull, granted the most ample privileges to the members of the society ; and appointed Loyola to be the jEirst general of the order. The event hath fully justified Paul's discernment, in expecting such beneficial consequences to the see of Rome from this institution. In less than half a century, the society obtained establish- ments in every country that adhered to the Roman Catholic church; its power and wealth increased amazingly; the number of its members became great ; their character as well as accomplishments w^ere still greater ; and the Jesuits were celebrated by the friends, and dreaded by the enemies of the Romish faith, as the most able and enterprising order in the church. The constitution and la^vs of the society were perfected by Laynez and Aquaviva, the two generals who succeeded Loyola, — men far superior to their master in abilities, and in the science of government. They framed that system of profound and artful policy which distinguishes the order. The large infusion of fanaticism, mingled with its regula- tions, should be imputed to Loyola its founder. Many 62 THE OBJECT OF THE ORDER SINGULAR. [BOOK^^. circumstances concurred in giving a peculiarity of cliaracter to the order of Jesuits, and in forming the members of it not only to take a greater part in the affairs of the world than any other body of monks, but to acquire superior influence in the conduct of them. The primary object of almost all the monastic orders is to separate men from the world, and from any concern in its affairs. In the solitude and silence of the cloister, the monk is called to work out his own salvation by extra- ordinary acts of mortification and piety. He is dead to the world, and ought not to mingle in its transactions. He can be of no benefit to mankind but by his example and by his prayers. On the contrary, the Jesuits are taught to consider themselves as formed for action. They are chosen soldiers, bound to exert themselves continually in the service of God, and of the pope, his vicar on earth. Wliatever tends to instruct the ignorant ; whatever can be of use to reclaim or to oppose the enemies of the holy see, is their proper object. That they may have full leisure for this active service, they are totally exempted from those functions, the performance of -which is the chief business of other monks. They appear in no processions ; they practise no rigorous austerities ; they do not consume one half of their time in the repetition of tedious offices/^ But they are required to attend to all the transactions of the world, on account of the influence w'liich these may have upon religion ; they are directed to study the dis- positions of persons in high rank, and to cultivate their friendship;'''' and by the very constitution, as w^ell as genius of the order, a spirit of action and intrigue is infused into all its members. As the object of the society of Jesuits differed from that of the other monastic orders, the diversity was no less in "" Comj)tc rendu par ^I. dc Mon- •"'" Complc rciulii par M. de Mon- clar, p. xiii. 290. Sur la Dcstruct. dcs clar, p. 12. Jcsuites, par M. d'Alembcrl, p. 42. BOOK VI.] rOTVTER OF ITS GENERiiL. 03 the form of its government. The other orders are to be considered as vokmtary associations, in which whatever affects the whole body, is regulated by the common suffrage of all its members. The executive power is vested in the persons placed at the head of each convent, or of the whole society ; the legislative authority resides in the community. Affairs of moment, relating to particular convents, are determined in conventual chapters ; such as respect the whole order are considered in general congregations. But Loyola, full of the ideas of implicit obedience, which he had derived from his military profession, appointed that the government of his order should be purely monarchical. A general, chosen for life by deputies from the several provinces, possessed power that -was supreme and inde- pendent, extending to every person, and to every case. He, by his sole authority, nominated provincials, rectors, and every other officer employed in the government of the society, and could remove them at pleasure. In him w^as vested the sovereign administration of the revenues and funds of the order. Every member belonging to it w^as at his disposal ; and by his uncontrollable mandate, he could impose on them any task, or employ them in what service soever he pleased. To his commands they were required not only to yield outward obedience, but to resign up to him the inclinations of their owm walls, and the sentiments of their own understandings. They were to listen to his injunctions, as if they had been uttered by Christ himself. Under his direction, they were to be mere passive instru- ments, like clay in the hands of the potter, or like dead carcasses, incapable of resistance.''^ Such a singular form of policy could not fail to impress its character on all the members of the order, and to give a peculiar force to all its operations. There is not in the annals of mankind any example of such a perfect despotism, exercised not over ^^ Compte rendu au Parlem. de &c. Coinpte rendu par M. de Mon- Bretagne, par. M. de Chalotais, p. 41, clar, pp. 83, 185, 343, 64 THE GENER^VL'S SYSTEM OF ESPIOXAGE. [book^i. monks shut up in the cells of a convent, but over men dispersed among all the nations of the earth. As the constitutions of the order vest in the general such absolute dominion over all its members, they carefully provide for his being perfectly informed with respect to the character and abilities of his subjects. Every novice who offers himself as a candidate for entering into the order, is obliged to manifest his conscience to the superior, or to a person appointed by him ; and, in doing this, is required to confess not only his sins and defects, but to discover the inclinations, the passions, and the bent of his soul. This manifestation must be renewed every six months.^^ The society, not satisfied with penetrating in this manner into the innermost recesses of the heart, directs each member to observe the words and actions of the novices ; they are constituted spies upon their conduct ; and arc bound to disclose everything of importance con- cerning them to the superior. In order that this scrutiny into their character may be as complete as possible, a long noviciate must expire, during which they pass through the several gradations of ranks in the society, and they must have attained the full age of thirty-three years before they can be admitted to take the final vows, by which they become p'ofessed members.'^^ By these various methods, the supe- riors, under whose immediate inspection the novices arc placed, acquire a thorough knowledge of their dispositions and talents. In order that the general, who is the soul that animates and moves the whole society, may have under his eye everything necessary to inform or direct him, the provincials and heads of the several houses arc obhgcd to transmit to him regular and frequent reports concerning tli(! members under their inspection. In these they descend into minute details with res})ect to the chaiacter of each ])erson, liis abilities natural or acquired, his temper, his «' Comptc rendu par M. dc Mou- '"-■' Ibid. j)]). 215, 2il. Surla Dcstr. clar, pp. 121, &c. dca Jcs. pur M. d'Alcnib. p. 3'J. BOOK VI.] JIAPID EXTENSION OF THE ORDER. 65 experience in affairs, and the particular department for which he is best fitted." These reports, when digested and arranged, are entered into registers kept on purpose, that the general may, at one comprehensive view, survey the state of the society in every corner of the earth ; observe the qualifications and talents of its members ; and thus choose, with perfect information, the instruments, which his absolute power can employ in any service for which he thinks meet to destine them.^^ As it was the professed intention of the order of Jesuits to labour with unwearied zeal in promoting the salvation of men, this engaged them, of course, in many active func- tions. From their first institution, they considered the education of youth as their peculiar province ; they aimed at being spiritual guides and confessors ; they preached frequently in order to instruct the people ; they set out as missionaries to convert unbelieving nations. The novelty of the institution, as well as the singularity of its objects, procured the order many admirers and patrons. The governors of the society had the address to avail themselves of every circumstance in its favour, and in a short time the number as well as influence of its members increased won- derfully. Before the expiration of the sixteenth century, ''"' M. de Chalotais lias made a cal- general an account of tlic civil afFuirs culaliou of the number of tiiese re- in flic country wherein they are settled, ports, which the general of the Jesuits as far as their knowledge of these may must annually receive according to be of benefit to religion. This condi- the regulations of the society. Tlicsc tion may extend to every particular, amount in all to G,5S4<. If the sum so that the general is furnished with be divided by 37, the number of pro- full information concerning the traiis- vinces in the order, it will appear that actions of every prince and state in 177 reports coneeriiing the state of the world. Cotiiptc par^L.dc Moncl.yi. each province are transmitted to Rome 4 to. Rht. dex Jt'-sKlfes, ibid. p. 58. annually. Cviiipfe, p. 52. Besides this, "Wlieu the affairs willi respect to there may be extraordinary letters, or whieli the provincials or rectors write such as are sent by the monitors or are of importance, they are directed spies whom the general and provincials to use ciphers ; and each of them has entertain in each house. Vompte par a particular cipher from tlie general. M. de Moncl. p. 431. Hist, des Jeisuitcs, Cuniptc par M. de Chalotais, p. 5i. Amst. r761, toni. iv. p. 56. The pro- '°^ Conipte rendu par M. de JMoncI. viucials and heads of houses not only pp. 215, 439. Compte rendu parM. de report concerning the members of the Chalotais, pp. 52, 222. society, but are bound to give the VOL. II. P 66 GREAT TYTliyi^TH ACQUIRED BY THE ORDER. [bookvi. the Jesuits had obtained the chief direction of the educa- tion of youth in every cathohc country in Europe. They had become the confessors of ahuost all its nionarchs, — a function of no small importance in any reign, but, under a weak prince, superior even to that of minister. They were the spiritual guides of almost every person eminent for rank or power. They possessed the highest degree of confidence and interest with the papal court, as the most zealous and able champions for its authority. The advan- tages which an active and enterprising body of men might derive from all these circumstances are obvious. They formed the minds of men in their youth. They retained an ascendant over them in their advanced years. They pos- sessed, at different periods, the direction of the most con- siderable courts in Europe. They mingled in all aftairs. They took part in every intrigue and revolution. The general, by means of the extensive intelligence which he received, could regulate the operations of the order with the most perfect discernment, and, by means of his ab- solute power, could carry them on with the utmost vigour and effect."^" Together with the power of the order, its wealth con- tinued to increase. Various expedients were devised for eluding the obligation of the vow of poverty. The order acquired ample possessions in every catholic country ; and by the number as well as magnificence of its public build- ings, together with the value of its property, movable or real, it vied with the most opulent of the monastic fra- ternities. Besides the sources of wealth conmion to all the regular clergy, the Jesuits possessed one which was peculiar ^'''' "When Loyola, in the ;year 1510, fessed houses ; fifl.y-niiie liouses of petiUoiictl the pope to authorize tlie proi)ation ; tiirce hundred and forty nihtitution of tiie order, lie had only residences ; si.K hundred and twelve ten disciples. But in tiie year 1008, colleges; two hundred missions; cue sixty-cigfit years after its iirst insti- liundred and fifty seminaries and tution, the number of Jesuits had boarding-schools ; and consisted of increased to len thousand live hundred 19,'.)'JS Jesuits. UUt, den JiisniteSf and eighty-one. In the jear 1710, torn. i. p. 20. the order possessed tweuty-four pro- BOOK Yi.] ITS PERNICIOUS EFFECTS ON CIVIL SOCIETY. 07 to tlieinselves. Under pretext of promoting tlie success of their missions, and of facilitating the support of their mis- sionaries, they obtained a special hcense from the court of Rome to trade with the nations which they laboured to convert. In consequence of this, they engaged in an ex- tensive and lucrative commerce, both in the East and West Indies. They opened warehouses in different parts of Europe, in which they vended their commodities. Not satisfied with trade alone, they imitated the example of other commercial societies, and aimed at obtaining settle- ments. They acquired possession, accordingly, of a large and fertile province in the southern continent of America, and reigned as sovereigns over some hundred thousand subjects. *^^ Unhappily for mankind, the vast influence which the order of Jesuits acquired by all these different means, has been often exerted with the most pernicious effect. Such was the tendency of that discipline observed by the society in forming its members, and such the fundamental maxims in its constitution, that every Jesuit was taught to regard the interest of the order as the capital object, to which every consideration was to be sacrificed. This spirit of attachment to their order, the most ardent, perhaps, that ever influenced any body of men,''^ is the characteristic principle of the Jesuits, and serves as a key to the genius of their policy, as well as to the peculiarities in their senti- ments and conduct. As it was for the honour and advantage of the society, that its members should possess an ascendant over persons in high rank or of great power, the desire of acquiring and preserving such a direction of their conduct, with greater facility, has led the Jesuits to propagate a system of relaxed and pliant morality, which accommodates itself to the pas- sions of men, which justifies their vices, which tolerates ''" Hist, des Jesuitcs, iv. pp. lOS — 196, &c. •^^ Conipte roudu par. M. de Moucl. p. 2S5. P 2 (58 PERNICIOUS EFFECTS OF THE ORDER ; [book vi. their imperfections, wliicli authorizes ahnost every action that the most audacious or crafty poUtician would wish to perpetrate. As the prosperity of the order was intimately connected with the preservation of the papal authority, the Jesuits, influenced by the same principle of attachment to the interests of their society, have been the most zealous patrons of those doctrines which tend to exalt ecclesiastical power on the ruins of civil government. They have attri- buted to the court of Rome a jurisdiction as extensive and absolute as was claimed by the most presumptuous pontiffs in the dark ages. They have contended for the entire independence of ecclesiastics on the civil magistrate. They have published such tenets concerning the duty of opposing princes Avho were enemies of the catholic faith, as coun- tenanced the most atrocious crimes, and tended to dissolve all the ties which connect subjects with their rulers. As the order derived both reputatioji and authority from the zeal with which it stood forth in defence of the Romish church against the attacks of the reformers, its members, proud of this distinction, have considered it as their peculiar function to combat the opinions, and to check the progress, of the protestants. They have made use of every art, and have employed every weapon against them. They have set themselves in opposition to every gentle or tolerating measure in their favour. They have incessantly stirred up against them all the rage of ecclesiastical and civil persecution. Monks of other denominations have, indeed, ventured to teach the same pernicious doctriues, and have held opinions ecpially inconsistent with the order and haj)piness of civil society. But they, from reasons which are obvious, have cither delivered such opinions with greater reserve, or have propagated them with less success. AVhoever recol- lects the events whicli have happened in Europe during two centuries, will And that the Jesuits may justly be con- BOOK VI.] YET ADVANTAGES HAVE RESULTED. 69 sidcrcd as responsible for most of the pernicious effects arising from that corrupt and dangerous casuistry, from those cxtravagants tenets concerning ecclesiastical power, and from that intolerant spirit, which have been the disgrace of the church of Rome throughout that period, and which have brought so many calamities upon civil society.''^ But amidst many bad consequences flowing from the institution of this order, mankind, it must be acknowledged, have derived from it some considerable advantages. As the Jesuits made the education of youth one of their capital objects, and as their first attempts to establish colleges for the reception of students were violently opposed by the universities in different countries, it became necessary for them, as the most effectual method of acquiring the public favour, to surpass their rivals in science and industry. This prompted them to cultivate the study of ancient literature with extraordinary ardour. This put them upon various methods for facilitating the instruction of youth ; and by the improvements which they made in it, they have contributed so much towards the progress of polite learn- ing, that on this account they have mei'ited well of society. Nor has the order of Jesuits been successful only in teaching the elements of literature ; it has produced likewise eminent masters in many branches of science, and can alone boast of a greater number of ingenious authors, than all the other religious fraternities taken together. '° "^ Encyclopedic, art. Jcsintcs, torn, effect of monastic education to con- viii. 513. tract and fetter the liuman mind. Tiie ™ M. d'Alenibert has observed, that partial attachment of a monk to the though the Jesuits have made extraor- interests of his order, which is often dinary progress in erudition of every incompatible with that of other citi- species ; tliough they can reckon up zens ; the habit of implicit obedience many of their brethren wlio have been to the will of a superior, together eminent mathematicians, antiquaries, with the frequent return of the wcari- and crities; though they have even some and frivolous duties of the formed some orators of reputation; cloister, debase his faculties, and ex- yet the order has never produced one tinguisli that generosity of sentiment man, whose mind was so much en- and spirit, wliich qualifies men for lightened with sound knowledge, as thinking or feeling justly with respect to merit the name of a philosopher. to what is proper in life and conduct. But it seems to be the unavoidable Father Paul of Venice is, perhaps, the 70 JESUITS m PAEAGUAY. [bookvi. But it is in the New AVorld that the Jesuits have exhi- bited the most wonderful display of their abilities, and have contributed most effectually to the benefit of the human species. The conquerors of that unfortunate quarter of the globe acted at first as if they had nothing in view but to plunder, to enslave, and to exterminate its inhabitants. The Jesuits alone made humanity the object of their settling- there. About the beginning of the last century they ob- tained admission into the fertile province of Paraguay, which stretches across the southern continent of America, from the east side of the immense ridge of the Andes, to the confines of the Spanish and Portuguese settlements on the banks of the river de la Plata. They found the inhabitants in a state little different from that which takes place among men when they first begin to unite together ; strangers to the arts ; subsisting precariously by hunting or fishing ; and hardly acquainted with the first principles of subordination and government. The Jesuits set them- selves to instruct and to civilize these savages. They taught them to cultivate the ground, to rear tame animals, and to build houses. They brought them to live together in villages. They trained them to arts and manufactures. They made them taste the sweets of society, and accus- tomed them to the blessings of security and order. These people became the subjects of their benefactors, who have governed them with a tender attention, resembling that with which a father directs his children. Respected and beloved almost to adoration, a few Jesuits presided over some hundred thousand Indians. They maintained a per- fect equality among all the members of the community. Each of them was obliged to labour, not for himself alone, but for the public. The produce of their fields, together only person oduoatcd in a cloibfcr that cnlarijcd scnliincnis of a pliilosoplior, ever was altofifctlicr superior to its willi tlio (iisccrnnicnl of a man con- prejudiees, or wlio viewed the trans- vcrsant in alfairs, and with the liijc- actions of men, and reasoned eoncern- ralily of a gentleman. ing the interests of soeicty, with the 1500K Yi.] THEIR AMBITION AND POLICY. 71 with the fruits of their industry of every species, was depo- sited in common storehouses, from which each individual received everything necessary for the sup[)ly of his wants ; by this institution, almost all the passions which disturb the peace of society, and render the members of it unhappy, were extinguished. A few magistrates, chosen from among their countrymen, by the Indians themselves, Avatched over the public tranquillity, and secured obedience to the laws. The sanguinary punishments frequent under other govern- ments were unknown. An admonition from a Jesuit ; a slight mark of infamy ; or, on some singular occasion, a few lashes with a whip, were sufficient to maintain good order among these innocent and happy people. '^^ But even in this meritorious effort of the Jesuits for the good of mankhid, the genius and spirit of their order have mingled and are discernible. They plainly aimed at estab- lishing in Paraguay an independent empire, subject to the society alone, and which, by the superior excellence of its constitution and police, could scarcely have failed to extend its dominions over all the southern continent of America. With this view, in order to prevent the Spaniards or Portu- guese in the adjacent settlements from acquiring any dangerous influence over the people within the limits of the province subject to the society, the Jesuits endeavoured to inspire the Indians with hatred and contempt of these nations. They cut off all intercourse between their sub- jects and the Spanish or Portuguese settlements. They prohibited any private trader of either nation from entering their territories. When they were obliged to admit any person in a public character from the neighbouring govern- ments, they did uot permit him to have any conversation with their subjects ; and no Indian was allowed even to enter the house where these strangers resided, unless in the presence of a Jesuit. In order to render any communica- " Hist, du Paraguay par le Pcre de Pc'rou par Don G. Juan et D. Ant. de Charlevoix, toni. ii. p.42,&c. Voyage au Ulloa, torn i. p. 510, &c. Par. Ito. 1752. 72 REASON FOR ENTERING INTO DETAIL. [bookvi. tion between them as difRcult as possible, they indns- trionsly avoided giving the Indians any knowledge of the Spanish, or of any other European language ; but en- couraged the dift'erent tribes, which they had civilized, to acquire a certain dialect of the Indian tongue, and laboured to make that the universal language throughout their dominions. As all these precautious, without military force, would have been insufficient to have rendered their empire secure and permanent, they instructed their sub- jects in the European arts of war. They formed them into bodies of cavalry and infantry, completely armed, and regu- larly disciplined. They provided a great train of artillery, as well as magazines stored with all the implements of war. Thus they established an army so numerous and well appointed, as to be formidable in a covmtry where a few sickly and ill-disciplined battalions composed all the military force kept on foot by the Spaniards or Portuguese. ^^ The Jesuits gained no considerable degree of power during the reign of Charles V., who, with his usual sagacity, dis- cerned the dangerous tendency of the institution, and checked its progress." But as the order was founded in the period of Vvhich I write the history, and as the age to which I address this work hath seen its fall, the view which I have exhibited of the laws and genius of this formidable body will not, I hope, be unacceptable to my readers ; csj)ecially as one circumstance has enabled me to enter into this detail with particular advantage. Europe had observed, for two centuries, the ambition and power of the order. But while it felt many fatal effects of these, it could not fully discern the causes to which they were to be im])uted. It Avas unac(juainted with many of the singular regulations in tlic political constitution or govermnent of the Jesuits, A\lii(h fdrnicd the enterprising spirit of intrigue that dis- " Voynpc dc Juan ct dc Ulloa, torn. suites on Poriiig.il, torn. i. p. 7, &c. i. p. 510. J{ccucil dc toutcs Ics Pieces '■' (/omplc rcmlii par M. dc Moncl. qui out pani sur Ics Affaires dcs Jc- p. 312. BOOK VI.] SECRECY OE THE SOCIETY'S RULES. 73 tinguished its members, and elevated the body itself to such a height of power. It was a fundamental maxim Avitli the Jesuits, from their first institution, not to publish the rules of their order. These they kept concealed as an impe- netrable mystery. They never communicated them to strangers, nor even to the greater part of their own mem- bers. They refused to produce them when required by courts of justice ; ^^ and, by a strange solecism in policy, the civil power in different countries authorized or connived at the establishment of an order of men, whose constitution and laws were concealed with a solicitude which alone was a good reason for excluding them. During the prosecu- tions lately carried on against them in Portugal and Prance, the Jesuits have been so inconsiderate as to produce the mysterious volumes of their institute. By the aid of these authentic records, the principles of their government may be delineated, and the sources of their power investigated with a degree of certainty and precision, which, previous to that event, it was impossible to attain.^'' But as I have pointed out the dangerous tendency of the constitution and spirit of the order with the freedom becoming an historian, the candour and impartiality no less requisite in that cha- racter call on me to add one observation, — that no class of regular clergy in the Romish church has been more eminent for decency, and even purity of manners, than the major part of the order of Jesuits."" The maxims of an intriguing, ambitious, interested policy, might influence those who governed the society, and might even corrupt the heart, ""• Hist, des Jesnitcs, torn. iii. p. 230, upon innumerable passages which tlicy &c. Conipte rendu par M. de Chalot. have extracted from the constitutions P- 38. of the order, deposited in their hands. _ ^" Tlie greater part of my informa- Hospinian, a protestant divine of tion, concerning the government and Zuricli, in liis Hisioria. JcsuUica, laws of the order of Jesuits, I have printed a.d. 1G19, published a small derivedfrora the reports of M. de part of the constitutions of the jes\iits, Clmlotais and M. de Mouclar. I rest of which by some accident he had got not my narrative, however, upon the a copy; pp. 13 — 54. authority even of these respectable '•'^ Sur. la Destruct. des Jesuites, par magistrates and elegant writers, but M. d'Alembert, p. 55. 74 CONFERENCE OF DIVINES AT WORMS. [bookvi. and pervert the conduct of some individuals, while the greater number, engaged in literary piu'suits, or employed in the functions of religion, was left to the guidance of those common principles which restrain men from vice, and excite them to what is becoming and laudable. The causes which occasioned the ruin of this mighty body, as well as the circumstances and effects with which it has been at- tended in the different countries of Europe, though objects extremely worthy the attention of every intelligent observer of human affairs, do not fall within the period of this history. No sooner had Charles re-established order in the Low Countries, than he was obliged to turn his attention to the afflurs in Germany. The protestants pressed him earnestly to appoint that conference between a select number of the divines of each party, which had been stipulated in the convention at Prancfort. The pope considered such an attempt to examine into the points in dispute, or to decide concerning them, as derogatory to his right of being the supreme judge in controversy; and being convinced that such a conference would either be ineffectual by determining nothing, or prove dangerous by determining too much, he employed every art to prevent it. The emperor, however, finding it more for his interest to soothe the Germans than to gratify Paul, paid little regard to his remonstrances. In a diet held at Haguenau, matters were ripened for the conference. In another diet assembled at AVorms, the conference was begun, Melancthon on the one side and Eckius on tlie other, sustaining the principal ])art in the dispute ; but after they had made some progress, though without concluding anything, it was suspended by the emperor's command, that it might be renewed with greater solemnity in his own presence in a diet summoned to meet at Kiitisbon. This assembly was opened with great pomp, and with a general expectation that its proceedings would be vigorous and decisive. I3y the consent of both parties, BOOKYL] CONFERENCE OE DIVINES AT RATISBON. 75 the emperor was intrusted with the power of nominating the persons who shoukl manage the conference, which it was agreed should be conducted not in the form of a pubhc disputation, but as a friendly scrutiny or examination into the articles which had given rise to the present controversies. He appoinied ]^]ckius, Gropper, and Pflug, on the part of the catholics ; Melancthon, Bucer, and Pistorius, on that of the protestants ; all men of distinguished reputation among their own adherents, and, except Eckius, all eminent for moderation, as well as desirous of peace. As they were about to begin their consultations, the emperor put into their hands a book, composed, as he said, by a learned divine in the Low Countries, Avith such extraordinary perspicuity and temper, as, in his opinion, might go far to unite and comprehend the two contending parties. Grop- per, a canon of Cologne, whom he had named among the managers of the conference, a man of address as well as of erudition, was afterwards suspected to be the author of this short treatise. It contained positions with regard to twenty-two of the chief articles in theology, which included most of the questions then agitated in the controversy between the Lutherans and the church of Rome. By ranging his sentiments in a natural order, and expressing them with great simplicity ; by employing often the very words of Scripture, or of the primitive fathers ; by softening the rigour of some opinions, and explaining away what was absurd in others ; by concessions, sometimes on one side, and sometimes on the other ; and especially by banishing as much as possible scholastic phrases, those words and terms of art in controversy, which serve as badges of distinction to different sects, and for which theologians often contend more fiercely than for opinions themselves ; he at last framed his work in such a manner, as promised fairer than anything that had hitherto been attempted, to compose and to terminate religious dissensions.''' " Goldast. Constit. Imper. ii. p. 1S2. 76 COXFEEEXCE OF DmXES AT EATISBOX. [bookvi. But the attention of the age was turned, with such acute observation, towards theological controversies, that it was not easy to impose on it by any gloss, how artful or specious soever. The length and eagerness of the dispute had separated the contending parties so completely, and had set their minds at such variance, that they were not to be reconciled by partial concessions. All the zealous catholics, particularly the ecclesiastics who had a seat in the diet, joined in condemning Cropper's treatise as too favourable to the Lutheran opinion, the poison of which heresy it conveyed, as they pretended, with greater danger, because it was in some degree disguised. The rigid protestants, especially Luther himself, and his patron the elector of Saxony, were for rejecting it as an impious compound of error and truth, craftily prepared that it might impose on the weak, the timid, and the unthinking. But the divines, to whom the examination of it was committed, entered upon that business with greater deliberation and temper. As it was more easy in itself, as well as more consistent with the dignity of the church, to make concessions, and even alterations with regard to speculative opinions, the discussion whereof is confined chiefly to schools, and which present nothing to the people that either strikes their imagination or affects their senses, they came to an accommodation about these without much labour, and even defined the great article concerning justitication to their mutual satisfaction. But, when they proceeded to points of jurisdiction, where the interest and authority of the Koman see were concerned, or to the rites and forms of external worship, where every change that could be made nnist be public, and draw the observation of the people, there the catholics were altogether luitractable ; nor could the church, either with safety or with honour, abolish its ancient institutions. All the articles relative to the power of the pope, the authority of councils, the administi'atiou of the sacraments, the worship of saints, and many other particulars, did not, in their nature, admit BOOK VI.] THEY APPEOYE THE EMPEROR'S RECESS. 77 of any temperament ; so that, after labouring long to bring about an accommodation with respect to these, the emperor found all his endeavours ineffectual. Being impatient, however, to close the diet, he at last prevailed on the majority of the members to approve of the following recess: " That the articles concerning which the divines had agreed in the conference, should be held as points decided, and be observed inviolably by all ; that the other articles about which they had differed, should be referred to the deter- mination of a general council, or, if that could not be obtained, to a national synod of Germany; and if it should prove impracticable, likewise, to assemble a synod, that a general diet of the empire should be called within eighteen months, in order to give some final judgment upon the controversy; that the emperor should use all his interest and authority with the pope, to procure the meeting either of a general council or synod ; that, in the meantime, no innovations should be attempted, no endeavours should be employed to gain proselytes ; and neither the revenues of the church, nor the rights of monasteries, should be invaded."^** All the proceedings of this diet, as well as the recess in which they terminated, gave great offence to the pope. The power which the Germans had assumed of appointing their own divines to examine and determine matters of controversy, he considered as a very dangerous invasion of his rights ; the renewing of their ancient proposal concerning a national synod, which had been so often rejected by him and his predecessors, appeared extremely undutiful ; but the bare mention of allowing a diet, composed chiefly of laymen, to pass judgment with respect to articles of faith, was deemed no less criminal and profane, than the worst of those heresies Avhich they seemed zealous to suppress. On the other hand, the protestants were no less dissatisfied '' SleiJ. p. 207, &c. Palliw. lib. iv. c, 11, p. 130. E. Paul, p. SO. Scckcud. lib. iii. p. 250. 78 THE AFFAIRS OF HUNGARY. [book yi. with a recess that consiclerably abridged the Uberty which they enjoyed at that time. As they murmured loudly against it, Charles, unwilling to leave any seeds of discontent in the empii'c, granted them a private declaration in the most ample terms, exempting them from whatever they thought oppressive or injurious in the recess, and ascertaining to them the full possession of all the privileges which they had ever enjoyed."^ Extraordinary as these concessions may appear, the situation of the emperor's affairs at this juncture made it necessary for him to grant them. He foresaw a rupture with France to be not only unavoidable but near at hand, and durst not give any such cause of disgust or fear to the protestants, as might force them, in self-defence, to court the protection of the French king, from whom, at present, they were much alienated. The rapid progress of the Turks in Hungary Avas a more powerfid and urgent motive to that moderation which Charles discovered. A great revolution had happened in that kingdom ; John Zapol Scaepus having chosen, as has been related, rather to possess a tributary kingdom, than to renounce the royal dignity to which he had been accustomed, had, by the assistance of his mighty protector Solyman, wrested from Ferdinand a great part of the country, and left him only the precarious possession of the rest. But being a prince of pacific qualities, the frequent attempts of Ferdinand, or of his partisans among the Hungarians, to recover what they had lost, greatly disquieted him ; and the necessity, on these occasions, of calling in the Turks, whom he considered and felt to be his masters, rather than auxiliaries, was hardly less mortifying. In order, therefore, to avoid these dis- tresses, as well as to secure quiet and leisure for cultivating the arts and enjoying anmsements in which he delighted, lie secretly came to an agreement with his competitor on this condition : that J-'erdinand shoukl acknowledge him as 7» Sleid. p. 2S3. Seckciul. p. 3G0. Dumont., Corps Diplom. iv. p. ii. p. 210. BOOK VI.] DEATH OF THE K ING OF IIUNGAUY. 79 king of Iliiiigaiy, and leave lihn, during life, tlie unmolested possession of that part of tlic kingdom now in his power ; but that, upon his demise, the sole right of the whole should devolve upon Ferdinand.**" As John had never been married, and was then far advanced in life, the terms of the contract seemed very favourable to Ferdinand. But, soon after, some of the Hungarian nobles, solicitous to prevent a foreigner from ascending their throne, prevailed on John to put an end to a long celibacy, by marrying Isabella, the daughter of Sigismund, king of Poland. John had the satisfaction before his death, which happened within less than a year after his marriage, to see a son born to inherit his kingdom. To him, without regarding his treaty with Ferdinand, which he considered, no doubt, as void upon an event not foreseen when it was concluded, he bequeathed his crown ; appointing the queen and George Martinuzzi, bishop of Waradin, guardians of his son, and regents of the kingdom. The greater part of the Hungarians imme- diately acknowledged the young prince as king, to whom, in memory of the founder of their monarchy, they gave the name of Stephen.®^ Ferdinand, though extremely disconcerted by this unex- pected event, resolved not to abandon the kingdom which he flattered himself with having acquired by his compact with John. He sent ambassadors to the queen to claim possession, and to offer the province of Transylvania as a settlement for her son, preparing, at the same time, to assert his right by force of arms. But John had committed the care of his son to persons who had too much spirit to give up the crown tamely, and who possessed abilities suffi- cient to defend it. The queen, to all the address peculiar to her own sex, added a masculine courage, ambition, and magnanimity. Martinuzzi, who had raised himself from the lowest rank in life to his present dignity, was one of ^" IstuanliatFii Hist. Himg. lib. xii. p. 135. " Jovii Hist. lib. xxxix. p. 239 a, &c. 80 CKiEACTER A^'D POWER OF ]\LiIlTIXUZZL [bookai. those extraordinary men, who, by the extent as well as variety of their talents, are fitted to act a superior part in bnstlino^ and factious times. In discharo-ino; the functions of his ecclesiastical office, he put on the semblance of an humble and austere sanctity. In civil transactions, he dis- covered industry, dexterity, and boldness. During war he laid aside the cassock, and appeared on horseback with his scimitar and buckler, as active, as ostentatious, and as gallant as any of his countrymen. Amidst all these different and contradictory forms which he could assume, an insatiable desire of dominion and authority was con- spicuous. From such persons it was obvious what answer Ferdinand had to expect. He soon perceived that he must depend on arms alone for recovering Hungary. Having levied for this purpose a considerable body of Germans, Avhom his partisans among the Hungarians joined with their vassals, he ordered them to march into that part of the kingdom which adhered to Ste})hen. Martinuzzi, unable to make head against such a powerful army in the field, satisfied himself with holding out the towns, all of which, especially Buda, the place of greatest consequence, he provided with everything necessary for defence ; and, in the meantime, he sent ambassadors to Solyman, beseeching him to extend towards the son the same imperial protection which had so long maintained the father on his throne. The sultan, though Ferdinand used his utmost endeavours to thwart this negotiation, and even olfered to accept of the Hungarian crown on the same ignominious condition of paying tribute to the Ottoman Porte, by which John had lield it, saw such prospects of advantage from espousing the interests of the young king, that he instantly ])romised him his protection ; and commanding one army to advance forthwith towards Hungary, he himself followed with another. Meanwhile, the Germans, hoping to terminate the war by the rechiction of a city in which the king aiul his mother were shut up, had formed the siege of Buda. BOOKVi.] SOLYMAN SEIZES THE KINGDOM. 81 MartiinizzI, having drawn thither the strength of the Hun- garian nobihty, defended the town with such courage and skill, as allowed the Turkish forces time to come up to its relief. They instantly attacked the Germans, weakened by fatigue, diseases, and desertion, and defeated them with great slaughter.^' Solyman soon after joined his victorious troops, and being weary of so many expensive expeditions undertaken in defence of dominions which were not his own, or being unable to resist this alluring 0])portunity of seizing a king- dom, while possessed by an infant under the guardianship of a woman and a priest, he allowed interested considera- tions to triumph with too much facility over the principles of honour and the sentiments of humanity. What he planned ungenerously he obtained by fraud. Having pre- vailed on the queen to send her son, whom he pretended to be desirous of seeing, into his camp, and having, at the same time, invited the chief of the nobility to an entertain- ment there, while they, suspecting no treachery, gave them- selves up to the mirth and jollity of the feast, a select band of troops, by the sultan's orders, seized one of the gates of Buda. Being thus master of the capital, of the king's person, and of the leading men among the nobles, he gave orders to conduct the queen, together with her son, to Transylvania, which province he allotted to them, and ap})ointing a basha to preside in Buda with a large body of soldiers, annexed Hungary to the Ottoman empire. The tears and complaints of the unhappy queen had no influence to change his purpose, nor could Martinuzzi either resist his absolute and uncontrollable command, or prevail on him to recal it.*'^ Before the account of this violent usurpation reached Ferdinand, he was so unlucky as to have despatched other ambassadors to Solyman, with a fresh representation of his ^■- IstuauliaOii Hist. Iluug. lib. xiv. '■'* Ibid. lib. xiv. p. oG. Jovii llist. p. 150. ' lib. xxxix. p. 2476, &c. VOL. II. G 82 THE EMPEROR VISITS ITALY. [book vi. right to the crown of Hungary, as aacII as a renewal of his former overture to hold the kingdom of the Ottoman Porte, and to pay for it an annual tribute. This ill-timed pro- posal was rejected with scorn. The sultan, elated with success, and thinking that he might prescribe what terms he pleased to a prince who voluntarily proffered conditions so imbecoming his own dignity, declared that he would not suspend the operations of war, unless Ferdinand instantly evacuated all the towns which he still held in Hungary, and consented to the imposition of a tribute upon Austria, in order to reimburse the sums which his presumptuous invasion of Hungary had obliged the Ottoman Porte to expend in defence of that kingdom. ^^ In this state were the affairs of Hungary. As the unfortunate events there had either happened before the dissolution of the diet of Ratisbon, or were dreaded at that time, Charles saw the danger of irritating and inflaming the minds of the Germans, while a formidable enemy was ready to break into the empire ; and perceived that he could not expect any vigorous assistance either towards the recovery of Hungary or the defence of the Austrian frontier, unless he courted and satisfied the protestants. By the concessions which have been mentioned, he gained this point, and such liberal supplies, both of men and money, were voted for carryhig on the war against the Turks, as left him under little anxiety about the security of Germany during the next campaign.**' Immediately upon the conclusion of the diet, the emperor set out for Italy. As he passed through Lucca, he had a short intercourse with the pope ; but nothing could be concluded concerning the proper method of composing the religious disputes in Germany, between two princes whose views and interests with regard to that matter were at this juncture so oj)posite. The pope's endeavours to remove the causes of discord between Charles and Prancis, and to "^ IstuauhalDi Hiat. Hung. lib. xiv. p. 15S. ^' Sldd. p. 383. BOOK VI.] HIS EXPEDITION AGAINST ALGIERS. 83 extinguish those mutual animosities which threatened to break out suddenly into open hostility, were not more successful. The emperor's thoughts were bent so entirely, at that time, on the great enterprise which he had concerted against Algiers, that he listened with little attention to the pope's schemes or overtures, and hastened to join his army and fleet.«« Algiers still continued in that state of dependence on the Turkish empire to which Barbarossa had subjected it. Ever since he, as captain basha, commanded the Ottoman fleet, Algiers had been governed by Hascen-Aga, a renegado eunuch, who, by passing through every station in the corsair's service, had acquired such experience in war, that he was well fitted for a station which required a man of tried and daring courage. Hascen, in order to show how well he deserved that dignity, carried on his piratical depredations against the Christian states with amazing activity, and outdid, if possible, Barbarossa himself in boldness and cruelty. The commerce of the Mediterranean was greatly interrupted by his cruisers, and such frequent alarms given to the coast of Spain, that there was a neces- sity of erecting watch-towers at proper distances, and of keeping guards constantly on foot, in order to descry the approach of his squadrons, and to protect the inhabitants from their descents.**^ Of this the emperor had received repeated and clamorous complaints from his subjects, who represented it as an enterprise corresponding to his power, and becoming his humanity, to reduce Algiers, which, since the conquest of Tunis, was the connnon receptacle of all the freebooters ; and to exterminate that lawless race, the implacable enemies of the Christian name. Moved partly by their entreaties, and partly allured by the hope of adding to the glory which he had acquired by his last expedition into Africa, Charles, before he left Madrid, in «« Sandov. Hist. torn. ii. p. 298. "' Jovii Hist; lib. xl. p. 260. g2 84 EXPEDITION AGAINST ALGIERS. [bookvi. his "way to the Low Countries, had issued orders, both in Spain and Itnly, to prepare a fleet and army for this purpose. Xo change in circumstances, since that time, could divert him from tliis resolution, or prevail on him to turn his arras towards Hungary; though the success of the Turks in that country seemed more inunediately to require his presence there ; though many of his most faithful adherents in Germany urged that the defence of the empire ought to be his first and peculiar care ; though such as bore him no good-will ridiculed his preposterous conduct in flying from an enemy almost at hand, that he might go in quest of a remote and more ignoble foe. But to attack the sultan in Hmigary, how splendid soever that measure might appear, was an imdertaking which exceeded his power, and was not consistent with his interest. To dra^v troops out of Spain or Italy, to march them into a country so distant as Hungary, to provide the vast apparatus necessary for transporting thither the artillery, ammunition, and baggage of a regular army, and to push the w^ar in that quarter, where there was little prospect of bringing it to an issue during several campaigns, were undertakings so expensive and unwieldy as did not cor- respond with the low condition of the emperor's treasury. AVhile his principal force was thus employed, his dominions in Italy and the Low Countries must have lain open to the jM'onch king, who Avould not have allowed such a favourable opportunity of attacking them to go unimproved. Whereas the African expedition, the ])reparations for wdiicli were already finished, and almost the whole expense of it defrayed, would de})end u])on a single cflbrt ; and, besides tlie security and satisfaction whicli the success of it must give his subjects, would detain him during so short a space, that Francis couhl hardly take advantngc of his absence, to invade his dominions in l]uro])e. On all these accoimts, (^harles adhered to his first ])lan, and with such determined obstinacy, that he paid no BOOK VI.] THE EMrEROIl LANDS IN AFRICA. 85 regard to the pope, who advised, or to Andrew Doria, who conjured liini not to expose his whole armament to ahnost iinavoidaljle destruction, by venturing to approach the dangerous coast of Algiers at such an advanced season of the year, and when the autumnal Avinds were so violent. Having embarked on board Doria's galleys at Porto-A^enere, in the Genoese territories, he soon found that this expe- rienced sailor had not judged wrong concerning the element with Avhich he was so well acquainted ; for such a storm arose, that it was with the utmost difliculty and danger he reached Sardinia, the place of general rendezvous. But as his courage was undaunted, and his temper often inflexible, neither the remonstrances of the po])e and Doria, nor the danger to which he had already been exposed by disre- garding their advice, had any other effect than to confirm him in his fatal resolution. The force, indeed, which he had collected, was such as might have inspired a prince less adventurous, and less confident in his own schemes, with the most sanguine hopes of success. It consisted of twenty thousand foot and two thousand horse, Spaniards, Italians, and Germans, mostly veterans, together with three thousand volunteers, the flower of the Spanish and Italian nobility, fond of paying court to the emperor by attending him in his favourite expedition, and eager to share in the glory which they believed he was going to reap : to these were added a thousand soldiers sent from Malta by the order of St. John, led by a hundred of its most gallant knights. The voyage from Majorca to the African coast was not less tedious, or full of hazard, than that which he had just finished. When he approached the land, the roll of the sea, and the vehemence of the winds, would not permit the troops to disembark. But at last the emperor, seizing a favourable opportunity, landed them without opposition, not far from Algiers, and immediately advanced towards 86 DISASTERS WHICH BETEL [bookyi. the town. To oppose this mighty army, Hascen had only eight hundred Tmks and five thousand Moors, partly natives of Africa, and partly refugees from Granada. He returned, however, a fierce and haughty answer w^hen summoned to surrender. But with such a handful of soldiers, neither his desperate courage, nor consummate skill in war, could have long resisted forces superior to those which had defeated Barbarossa at the head of sixty thousand men, and which had reduced Tunis, in spite of all his endeavours to save it. But how far soever the emperor might think himself beyond the reach of any danger from the enemy, he was suddenly exposed to a more dreadful calamity, and one against which human prudence and human efibrts availed nothing. On the second day after his landing, and before he had time for anything but to disperse some light-armed Arabs, who molested his troops on their march, the clouds began to gather, and the heavens to appear with a fierce and threatening aspect. Towards evening, rain began to fall, accompanied with a violent wind ; and, the rage of the tempest increasing during the night, the soldiers, who had brought nothing ashore but their arms, remained exposed to all its fury, without tents, or shelter, or cover of any kind. The ground was soon so wet that they could not lie down on it ; their camp, being in a low situation, Avas overflowed with water, and they sunk at every step to the ankles in mud; while the wind blew with such impetuosity, that, to prevent their falling, they were obliged to thrust their spears into the ground, and to su})[)ort themselves by taking hold of thcni. llascen was too vigilant an officer to allow an enemy in such distress to remain unmolested. About the dawn of morning, he sallied out with soldiers, who, having been screened from the storm under their own roofs, were fresh and vigorous. A l)ody of Italians, who were stationed nearest the city, dispirited and benumbed iJooKYi.] THE AKMY AND FLEET. 87 with cold, fled at the approach of the Turks. The troops at the post behind them discovered greater courage ; but, as the rain had extinguished their matches, and Avet their powder, their muskets were useless, and having scarcely strength to handle their other arms, they were soon thrown into confusion. Almost the whole army, with the emperor himself in person, was obliged to advance, before the enemy could be repulsed, who, after spreading such general con- sternation, and killing a considerable number of men, retired at last in good order. But all feeling or remembrance of this loss and danger was quickly obliterated by a more dreadful as well as affecting spectacle. It was now broad day ; the hurricane had abated nothing of its violence, and the sea appeared agitated with all the rage of which that destructive element is capable ; all the ships, on which alone the whole army knew that their safety and subsistence depended, were seen driven from their anchors, some dashing against each other, some beat to pieces on the rocks, many forced ashore, and not a few sinking in the waves. In less than an hour fifteen ships of war, and a hundred and forty transports, with eight thousand men, perished; and such of the unhappy crews as escaped the fury of the sea, were mur- dered without mercy by the Arabs, as soon as they reached land. The emperor stood in silent anguish and astonish- ment, beholding this fatal event, which at once blasted all his hopes of success, and buried in the depths the vast stores which he had provided, as well for annoying the enemy, as for subsisting his own troops. He had it not in his power to afford them any other assistance or relief than by sending some troops to drive away the Arabs, and thus delivering a few who were so fortunate as to get ashore from the cruel fate which their companions had met with. At last the wind began to fall, and to give some hopes that as many ships might escape as would be sufficient to save 88 THE E^IPEROE, OBLIGED TO RETREAT, [book vi. the army from perishing by famine, and trtmsport them back to Europe. But these were only hopes ; the approach of evening covered the sea with darkness ; and it being impossible for the officers aboard the ships which bad outlived the storm, to send any intelligence to their com- panions who were ashore, they remained during the night in all the anguish of suspense and uncertainty. Next day, a boat despatched by Doria made shift to reach land, with information that having weathered out the storm, to which, during fifty years' knowledge of the sea, he had never seen any equal in fierceness and horror, he had found it necessary to bear away with his shattered ships to Cape IMetafuz. He advised the emperor, as the face of the sky was still lowering and tempestuous, to march with all speed to that place, where the troops could re-embark with, greater ease. Whatever comfort this intelligence afforded Charles, from being assured that part of his fleet had escaped, was balanced by the now cares and perplexity in which it involved him with regard to his army, Metafuz was at least three days' march from his present camp ; all the pro- visions Avhich he had brought ashore at his first landing were now consumed ; his soldiers, worn out with fatigue, were hardly able for such a march, even in a friendly country ; and being dispirited by a succession of hardships, which victory itself would scarcely have rendered tolerable, they were in no condition to undergo new toils. But the situation of tlie army was such as allowed not one moment for deliberation, nor left it in the least doubtful what to choose. They were ordci-ed instantly to march, the wounded, the sick, and the feeble being placed in the centre ; such as seemed most vigorous were stationed in the front and rear. Tlien the sad efVects of what they had suffered began to appear mon; manifestly than ever, and new calamities were added to all those which they had already endured. Some BOOK VI.] AND RETURNS TO EUROPE. 89 could hardly bear the weight of their arms ; others, spent with the toil of foreing their way through deep and almost impassable roads, sank down and died; many perished by famine, as the whole army subsisted chiefly on roots and berries, or the flesh of horses, killed by the emperor's order, and distributed among the several battalions ; many v.^re drowned in brooks, which were swollen so much by the exces- sive rains, that in passing them they waded up to the chin ; not a few w^re killed by the enemy, AA'ho, during the greatest part of their retreat alarmed, harassed, and annoyed them night and day. At last they arrived at Metafuz ; and the weather being now so calm as to restore their communica- tion with the fleet, they Avere supplied with plenty of pro- vision, and cheered with the prospect of safety. During this dreadful series of calamities, the emperor discovered great qualities, many of Avhich a long-continued flow of prosperity had scarcely afforded him an opportunity of displaying, lie appeared conspicuous for firmness and constancy of spirit, for magnanimity, fortitude, humanity, and compassion. He endured as great hardships as the meanest soldier; he exposed his own person wherever danger threatened ; he encouraged the desponding, visited the sick and wounded, and animated all by his words and example. When the army embarked, he was among the last who left the shore, although a body of Arabs hovered at no great distance, ready to fall on the rear. By these virtues Charles atoned, in some degree, for his obstinacy and presumption in undertaking an expedition so fatal to his subjects. The calamities which attended this unfortunate enterprise did not end here; for no sooner were the forces got on board, than a new storm arising, though less furious than the former, scattered the fleet, and obliged them, separately, to make towards such ports in Spain or Italy as they could first reach; thus spreading the account of their disasters, 90 THE EJklPEROR'S ARRIVAL IN SPAIN. [bookvi. with all the circumstances of aggravation and horror, which their imagination, still under the influence of fear, suggested. The emperor himself, after escaping great dangers, and being forced into the port of Bugia in Africa, where he was obliged by contrary winds to remain several weeks, arrived at last in Spain, in a condition very diff'erent from that in which he had returned from his former expedition against the infidels/^ ** Carol. V. Expeditio ad Argyriam, Jovii Hist. lib. xl. p. 269, &c. Vera per Nicolaum Villaguouem Equitem y Zuniga Vida de Carlos V. p. 83. Rhodium, ap. Scardium, v. ii. p. 365. Saudov, Hist. ii. p. 239, &c. THE HISTORY OF THE EEIGN EMPEEOR CHAELES V. BOOK YII. Renewal of Hostilities by Fraucis — Operations of Lis Forces — The Emperor's Negotiations with Henry VIII. — Henry's Rupture with France and Scot- land — Francis's Negotiations with Solyman — The Campaign in the Low Countries — Solyman invades Hungary — Barbarossa's Descent upon Italy — Maurice of Saxony — The Pope calls a Council at Trent, but is obliged to prorogue it — Diet at Spires — Concessions to the Protestants by the Emperor — His Negotiations with Denmark and England — Battle of Cerisoles — Siege of St. Disier — Peace concluded at Crcspy — War between France and Eng- land continued — Diet at "Worms — The Protestants suspect the Emperor — Death of the Duke of Orleans — The Pope grants the Duchies of Parma and Placentia to his Son — The Council of Trent — The Protestants and the Emperor. [1541.] The calamities whicli tlie emperor suffered in his unfortunate enterprise against Algiers were great ; and the account of these, wliicli augmented in proportion as it spread at a greater distance from the scene of his disasters, encouraged Francis to begin hostilities, on which he had been for some time resolved. But he did not think it prudent to produce, as the motives of this resolution, either his ancient pretensions to the duchy of Milan, or the emperor*s disingenuity in violating his repeated promises with regard to the restitution of that country. The former might have been a good reason against concluding the truce of Nice, but was none for breaking it; the latter 92 EENETVED HOSTILITIES BY FEAKCIS. [bookto. could not be urged without exposing his own creduhty as much as the emperor's want of integrity. A violent and unwarrantable action of one of the imperial generals fur- nished him with a reason to justify his taking arms, which was of G:reater weio'ht than cither of these, and such as would have roused him, if he had been as desirous of peace as he was eager for war. Francis, by signing the treaty of truce at Nice, without consulting Solyman, gave (as he foresaw) great offence to that haughty monarch, who con- sidered an alliance with him as an honour of which a Christian prince had cause to be proud. The friendly interview of the Erench king with the emperor in Provence followed by such extraordinary appearances of union and confidence which distinguished the reception of Charles when he passed through the dominions of Prancis to the Low Countries, induced the sultan to suspect that the two rivals had at last forgotten their ancient enmity, in order that they might form such a general confederacy against the Ottoman power, as had been long wished for in Chris- tendom, and often attempted in vain. Charles, with his usual art, endeavoured to confirm and strengthen these suspicions, by instructing his emissaries at Constantinople, as well as in those courts with which Solyman held any intelligence, to represent the concord between him and Prancis to be so entire, that their sentiments, views, and pursuits, would be tlic same for the future.^ It was not without dilliculty that Prancis effaced these impressions; but the address of Eincon, the Prench ambassador at the Porte, together with the manifest advantage of carrying on Jiostilities against the house of Austria in concert with Prance, prevailed at length on the sultan not only to banish his suspicions, but to enter into a closer conjunction with Prancis than ever. Rincon returned into Prance, in order to conmiunicjite to his master a scheme of the sultan's for gaining the concurrence of the Venetians in their operations ' Mem, cic Riljicr, lorn. i. p. 502. BOOK. VII.] RENEWED HOSTILITIES BY ERANCIS. 93 against the common enemy. Solyman liaving lately con- cluded a peace with that republic, to which the mediation of In-aneis, and the good offices of Rincon had greatly con- tributed, thought it not impossible to allure the senate by such advantages, as, together with the example of the French monarch, might overbalance any scru})les arising cither from decency or caution, that conld operate on the other side. Francis, warmly approving of this measure, despatched Rincon back to Constantinople, and, directing him to go by Venice, along with Fregoso, a Genoese exile, whom he appointed his andoassador to that republic, em- powered them to negotiate the matter Avith the senate, to whom Solyman had sent an envoy for the same purpose.^ The Marquis del Guasto, governor of the Milanese, an officer of great abilities, but capable of attempting and executing the most atrocious designs, got intelligence of the motions and destinations of these ambassadors. As he knew how nmch his master wished to discover the inten- tions of the French king, and of wdiat consequence it was to retard the execution of his measures, he employed some soldiers belonging to the garrison of Pavia to lie in wait for Rincon and Fregoso as they sailed down the Po, wdio nuu'dered them and most of their attendants, and seized their papers. Upon receiving an account of this barbarous outrage, couunitted, during the subsistence of a truce, against persons held sacred by the most uncivilized nations, Francis's grief for the unhappy fate of two servants whom he loved and trusted, his uneasiness at the interruption of his schemes by their death, and every other passion, were swallowed up and lost in the indignation which this insult on the honour of his crown excited. He exclaimed loudly against Guasto, who, having drawn upon himself all the infamy of assassination without making any discovery of importance, as the ambassadors had left their instructions and other papers of consequence behind them, now boldly " Hist, di Yeuez. di Pavuta, iv. p. 125. 94 RENEWED HOSTILITIES BY PRAXCIS. [BooKvn. denied his being accessory in anywise to the crime. He sent an ambassador to the emperor, to demand suitable reparation for an indignity, which no prince, how incon- siderable or pusillanimous soever, could tamely endure; and when Charles, impatient at that time to set out on his African expedition, endeavoured to put him oif with an evasive answer, he appealed to all the courts in Europe, setting forth the heinousness of the injury, the spirit of moderation with which he had applied for redress, and the iniquity of the emperor in disregarding this just request. Notwithstanding the confidence with which Guasto asserted his own innocence, the accusations of the French gained greater credit than all his protestations ; and Bellay, the French commander in Piedmont, procured at length, by his industry and address, such a minute detail of the transaction, with the testimony of so many of the parties concerned, as auiounted almost to a legal proof of the marquis's guilt. In consequence of this opinion of the public, confirmed by such strong evidence, Francis's com- plaints were universally allowed to be well founded ; and the steps which he took towards renewing hostilities were ascribed not merely to ambition or resentment, but to the unavoidable necessity of vindicating tlie honour of his crown.' However just Francis might esteem his own cause, he did not trust so much to that, as to neglect the proper precautions for gaining other allies besides the sultan, by whose aid he might counterbalance the emperor's superior power. But his negotiations to this effect were attended with very little success. Henry VHI., eagerly bent at that time upon schemes against Scotland, which he knew would at once dissolve his union with France, was inclinable rather to take pju't with the emperor, tliau to contributes in any degree towards favouring the oi)erations against him. The pope adhered inviolably to his ancient system of neutrality. « Mem. de Bellay, p. 3G7, &c. Jovii Hist. lib. xl. p, 2G8. BOOKVii.] HIS CONFEDERATES. 95 The Venetians, notwithstanding Soly man's sohcitations, imitated the pope's example. The Germans, satisfied with the reUgious liberty which they enjoyed, found it more their interest to gratify than to irritate the emperor; so that the kings of Denmark and Sweden, who on this occasion were first drawn in to interest themselves in the quarrels of the more potent monarchs of the south, and the duke of Cleves, who had a dispute with the emperor about the possession of Gueldrcs, were the only confederates whom Prancis secured. But the dominions of the two former lay at such a distance, and the power of the latter was so inconsiderable, that he gained little by their alliance. But Francis, by vigorous efforts of his own activity, supplied every defect. Being afflicted at this time with a distemper, which was the eflPect of his irregular pleasures, and which prevented his pursuing them with the same licentious indulgence, he applied to business with more than his usual industry. The same cause which occasioned this extraordinary attention to his affairs, rendered him morose and dissatisfied with the ministers whom he had hitherto employed. This accidental peevishness being sharpened by reflecting on the false steps into which he had lately been betrayed, as well as the insults to which he had been exposed, some of those in whom he had usually placed the greatest confidence felt the effects of this change in his temper, and were deprived of their offices. At last he disgraced. Montmorency himself, who had long directed affairs, as well civil as military, with idl the authority of a minister no less beloved than trusted by his master ; and Trancis being fond of showing that tlie fall of such a powerful favourite did not affect the vigour or prudence of his administration, this was a new motive to redouble his diligence in preparing to open the war by some splendid and extraordinary effort. He accordingly brought into the field five armies. One to act in Luxembourg, under the duke of Orleans, accom- 96 :\riLITAIlY STRENGTH OF FRAInCIS. [bookvii. panied by tlie duke of Lorrain as liis instructor in tlie art of war. Another, commanded by the dauphin, marched towards the frontiers of Spain. A third, led by Van Rossem, the marshal of Gueldres, and composed chiefly of the troops of Cleves, had Brabant allotted for the theatre of its operations. A fourth, of which the duke of Vendome was general, hovered on the borders of Flanders. The last, consisting of the forces cantoned in Piedmont, was destined for the Admiral Annebaut. The dauphin and his brother were appointed to command where the chief exertions were intended, and the greatest honour to be reaped ; the army of the former amounted to forty thousand, that of the latter to thirty thousand men. Nothing appears more surprising than that Francis did not pour with these numerous and irresistible armies into the ]\lilancsc, which had so long been the object of his wishes as well as enterprises; and that he should choose rather to turn almost his whole strength into another direction, and towards new conquests. But the remembrance of the disasters Avhich he had met with in his former expeditions into Italy, together with the difficulty of supporting a war carried on at such a distance from liis own dominions, had gradually abated his violent inclination to obtain footing in that country, and made him willing to try the fortune of his arms in another quarter. At the same time he expected to make such a powerful impression on the frontier of Spain, where there were few towns of any strength, and no army assembled to oppose him, as might enable him to recover possession of the country of lloussillon, lately dismembered from the French crown, before Charles could bring into the field any force able to obstrnct his j)rogrcss. The necessity of supporting his ally, I lie duke of Cleves, and the hope of drawing a considerable Ijody of soldiers out of Germany by his means, determined him to act with vigour in the Low Countries. Tlic dauphin and duke of Orleans opened the campaign nuicli about the same time; the former laying siege to BOOK VII.] OPERATIONS OF HIS FORCES. 97 Perpignaii, the capital of Roussilloii, and the latter entering Luxembourg. The duke of Orleans pushed his operations with the greatest rapidity and success, one town falling after another, until no place in that large duchy remained in the emperor's hands but Thionville. Nor could he have fjiiled of overrunning the adjacent provinces with the same ease, if he had not voluntarily stopped short in this career of victory. But a report prevailing that the emperor had determined to hazard a battle in order to save Perpignan, on a sudden the duke, prompted by youthful ardour, or moved, perhaps, by jealousy of his brother, whom he both envied and hated, abandoned his own conquest, and hastened towards Roussillon, in order to divide with him the glory of the victory. On his departure, some of his troops were disbanded, others deserted their colours, and the rest, cantoned in the toAvns which he had taken, remained inactive. By this conduct, which leaves a dishonourable imputation either on his understanding or his heart, or on both, he not only renounced whatever he could have hoped from such a promising commencement of the campaign, but gave the enemy an opportunity of recovering, before the end of summer, all the conquests which he had gained. On the Spanish frontier, the emperor was not so inconsiderate as to venture on a battle, the loss of which might have endangered his kingdom. Perpignan, though poorly forti- fied, and briskly attacked, having been largely supplied with ammunition and provisions by the vigilance of Doria,* was defended so long and so vigorously by the duke of Alva, the persevering obstinacy of whose temper fitted him admirably for such a service, that at last the French, after a siege of three months, wasted by diseases, repulsed in several assaults, and despairing of success, relinquished the undertaking, and retned into their own country.^ Thus all Francis's mighty preparations, either from some defect * Sigonii Vita A. Dorite, p. 1191. ^ Saudov. Hist. com. ii. p. 315. VOL. IT. H 98 PREPARATIONS FOR ANOTHER CAMPAIGN. [bookvii. in his own conduct, or from the superior power and pru- dence of his rival, produced no effects which bore any pro- portion to his expense and efforts, or such as gratified, in any degree, his own hopes, or answ^ered the expectation of Europe. The only solid advantage of the campaign was the acquisition of a few towns in Piedmont, which Bellay gained rather by stratagem and address, than by force of arms.^ [1543.] The emperor and Francis, though both con- siderably exhausted by such great but indecisive efforts, dis- covering no abatement of their mutual animosity, employed all their attention, tried every expedient, and turned them- selves towards every quarter, in order to acquire new allies, together with such a reinforcement of strength as would give them the superiority in the ensuing campaign. Charles, taking advantage of the terror and resentment of the Spaniards, upon the sudden invasion of their country, pre- vailed on the cortcs of the several kingdoms to grant him subsidies with a more liberal hand than usual. At the same time he borrowed a large sum from John, king of Portugal, and, by w^ay of security for his repayment, put him in possession of the Molucca isles in the East Indies, with the gainful commerce of precious spices, which that sequestered corner of the globe yields. Not satisfied with this, he negotiated a marriage between Philip, his only son, now in his sixteenth year, and IMary, daughter of that monarch, with "whom her father, the most opulent prince in Em'opc, gave a large dower; and having likewise persuaded the cortcs of Aragon and Valencia to recognise Philip as the heir of these crowns, he obtained from them the donative usual on such occasions.' These extraordinary supplies enabled him to make such additions to his forces in Spain, that he could detatch a great body into the Low Countries, and yet reserve as many as were sufficient for the defence '' Sandov. Hist. torn. ii. p. 318. Mem. ? Venn: ix. 238, 211. Jovii Hist. dc Bellay, pp. 387, &c. Tcrrcr. ix. 237. lib. xlii. 2'J8, (i. BOOK VII.] CHARLES NEGOTIATES WITH HENRY VIIT. 99 of the kingdom. Having thus provided for the secimty of Spain, and committed the government of it to his son, he sailed for Italy in his way to Germany. But how attentive soever to raise the funds for carrying on the war, of eager to grasp at any new expedient for that purpose, he was not so inconsiderate as to accept of an overture which Paul, knowing his necessities, artfully threw out to him. That ambitious pontiff, no less sagacious to discern, than watchful to seize opportunities of aggrandizing his family, solicited him to grant Octavio, his grandchild, whom the emperor had admitted to the honour of being his son-in-law, the investiture of the ducli}' of Milan, in return for which he promised such a sum of money as would have gone far towards supplying all his present exigencies. But Charles, as well from unwillingness to alienate a province of so much value, as from disgust at the pope, who had hitherto refused to join in the war against France, rejected the pro- posal. His dissatisfaction with Paul at that juncture was so great, that he even refused to approve his alienating Parma and Placentia from the patrimony of St. Peter, and settling them on his son and grandson as a fief to be held of the holy see. As no other expedient for raising money among the Italian states remained, he consented to withdraw the gar- risons which he had hitherto kept in the citadels of Florence — -7 and Leghorn ; in consideration for which, he received a large / present from Cosmo de' Medici, who by this means secured / his own independence, and got possession of two forts, which / were justly called the fetters of Tuscany.^ -J But Charles, while he seemed to have turned his whole attention towards raising the sums necessary for defraying the expenses of the year, had not been negligent of objects more distant, though no less important, and had concluded a league offensive and defensive with Henry VIII., from which he derived, in the end, greater advantage than from » Adriana, Istoria, i. 195. Sleid. p. 312. Jovii Hist. lib. xliii. p. 301. Vita di Cos. Medici da Baldini, p. 34. II 2 100 HENRY'S RUPTUKE WITH [booktii. all his other preparations. Several slight circumstances, which have already been mentioned, had begun to alienate the affections of that monarch from Francis, with whom he had been for some time in close alliance; and new incidents of greater moment had occurred to increase his disgust and animosity. Henry, desirous of establishing an uni- formity in religion in both the British kingdoms, as well as fond of making proselytes to his own opinions, had formed a scheme of persuading his nephew, the king of Scots, to renounce the pope's supremacy, and to adopt the same system of reformation, which he had introduced into England. This measure he pursued with his usual eager- ness and impetuosity, making such advantageous offers to James, whom he considered as not over-scrupulously attached to any religious tenets, that he hardly doubted of success. His propositions were accordingly received in such a manner, that he flattered himself with having gained his point. But the Scottish ecclesiastics, foreseeing how fatal the union of their sovereign with England must prove both to their own power, and to the established system of religion ; and the partisans of France, no less convinced that it Avould put an end to the influence of that crown upon the public councils of Scotland, combined together, and, by their insinuations, defeated Henry's scheme at the very moment when he expected it to have taken effect.^ Too haughty to brook such a disappoint- ment, which he imputed as nmch to the arts of the French as to the levity of the Scottish monarch, he took up arms against Scotland, threatening to subdue the kingdom, since he could not gain the friendshi)) of its king. At the same time, his resentment against Francis quickened his nego- tiations with the emperor, an alliance with whom he was now as forward to accept as the other could be to offer it. During tliis war with Scotland, and before the conclusion of his negotiations with Charles, James V. died, leaving his * Hist, of Scot, vol i. p. 58, &c. BOOKvii.] SCOTLAND AXD FRANCE. 101 crown to Mary, his only danglitcr, an infant of a few clays old. Upon this event, Henry altered at once his whole system with regard to Scotland; and abandoning all thoughts of conquering it, aimed at what was more advantageous as well as more practicable, a union of that kingdom by a marriage between Edward his only son and the young queen. But here, too, he apprehended a vigorous opposition from the French faction in Scotland, w'hich began to bestir itself in order to thwart the measure. The necessity of crushing this party among the Scots, and of preventing Francis from furnishing them any effectual aid, confirmed Henry's resolution of breaking with France, and pushed him on to put a finishing hand to the treaty of confederacy with the emperor. In this league were contained, first of all, articles for securing their future amity and mutual defence ; then were enumerated the demands which they were respectively to make upon France ; and the plan of their operations w^as fixed, if he should refuse to grant them satisfaction. They agreed to require that Francis should not only renounce his alliance with Solyman, which had been the source of infinite calamities to Christendom, but also that he should make reparation for the damages wnicli that unnatural union had occasioned ; that he should restore Burgundy to the emperor; that he should desist immediately from hostilities, and leave Charles at leisure to oppose the common enemy of the Christian faith ; and that he should immediately pay the sums due to Henry, or put some towns in his hands as security to that effect. If, within forty days, he did not comply with these demands, they then engaged to invade FVance, each with twenty thousand foot and five thousand horse, and not to lay down their arms until they had recovered Burgundy, together with the towns on the Somme, for the emperor, and Normandy and Guienne, or even the whole realm of France, for Henry."' Their heralds, 1" Bym. xir. 76S. Heib. p. 238. 102 FR.iXCIS NEGOTLITES WITH SOLY^LVN. [bookvii. accordingly, set out with these haughty requisitions ; and though they were not permitted to enter France, the two monarchs hekl themselves fully entitled to execute whatever was stipulated in their treaty. Francis, on his part, was not less diligent in preparing for the approaching campaign. Having early observed symptoms of Henry's disgust and alienation, and finding all his endeavours to soothe and reconcile him ineffectual, he knew his temper too well not to expect that open hostilities would quickly follow upon this cessation of friendship. For this reason, he redoubled his endeavours to obtain from Solyraan such aid as might counterbalance the great acces- sion of strength which the emperor would receive by his alliance with England. In order to supply the place of the two ambassadors who had been murdered by Guasto, he sent as his envoy, first to Venice, and then to Constan- tinople, Panlin, who, though in no higher rank than a captain of foot, was deemed worthy of being raised to this important station, to which he was recommended by Bellay, who liad trained him to the arts of negotiation, and made trial of his talents and address on several occasions. Nor did he belie the opinion conceived of his courage and abilities. Hastening to Constantinople, without regarding the dangers to which he was exposed, he urged his master's demands with such boldness, and availed himself of every circumstance with such dexterity, that he soon removed all the sultan's difficulties. As some of the baslias, swayed either by their own opinion, or influenced by the emperor's emissaries, who had made their way even into this court, had declared in the divan against acting in concert with France, he found means either to convince or silence them." At last he obtained orders for Barbarossa to sail with a j)owerfiil fleet, and to regulate all his operations by the directions of tlic French king. I'mncis was not equally successful in Ins attempts to gain the princes of the empire. " Sandov. J list. ':. 3ir. Jovii Hist. xli. 285, &c. 300, &c. Branlomc. BOOK VII.] CAMPAIGN IN THE LOW COUNTRIES. ]03 The extraordinary rigour Avitli wliich he thought it necessary to punish such of his subjects as had emljraced the pro- testant opinions, in order to give some notable evidence of his own zeal for the cathoHc faith, and to wipe off the imputations to which he was Hable from his confederacy with the Turks, placed an insuperable barrier between him and such of the Germans as interest or inclination would have prompted most readily to join him.^^ His chief advantage, however, over the emperor, he derived on this, as on other occasions, from the contiguity of his dominions, as well as from the extent of the royal authority in France, which exempted him from all the delays and disappoint- ments unavoidable wherever popular assemblies provide for the expenses of government by occasional and frugal subsidies. Hence his domestic preparations w'cre always carried on with vigour and rapidity, while those of the emperor, unless when quickened by some foreign supply, or some temporary expedient, were extremely slow and dilatory. Long before any army was in readiness to oppose him, Francis took the field in the Low Countries, a2;ainst which he turned the whole weight of the war. He made him- self master of Landrecy, which he determined to keep as the key to the whole province of Hainault, and ordered it to be fortified with great care. Turning from thence to the right, he entered the duchy of Luxembourg, and found it in the same defenceless state as in the former year. While he was thus employed, the emperor having drawn together an army, composed of all the different nations subject to his government, entered the territories of the duke of Cleves, on whom he had vowed to inflict exem- plary vengeance. This prince, whose conduct and situation were similar to that of Robert de la Mark in the first war between Charles and Francis, resembled him likewise in his fate. Unable, with his feeble army, to face the emperor, '= Seek. lib. iii. p. 403. 104 CA^IPAIGN IN THE LOW COUNTRIES. [bookvil who advanced at tlie head of forty-four thousand men, he reth'ed at his approach ; and the iraperiahsts being at liberty to act as they pleased, immediately invested Duren. That town, though gallantly defended, was taken by assault ; all the inhabitants were put to the sword, and the place itself reduced to ashes. This dreadful example of severity struck the people of the country with such general terror, that all the other towns, even such as were capable of resistance, sent their keys to the emperor ; and before a body of French, detached to his assistance, could come up, the duke himself was oblio;ed to make his submission to Charles in the most abject manner. Being admitted into the imperial presence, he kneeled, together with eight of his principal subjects, and implored mercy. The emperor allowed him to remain in that ignominious posture, and eyeing him with a haughty and severe look, without deigning to answer a single word, remitted him to his ministers. The conditions, however, which they prescribed were not so rigorous as he had reason to have expected after such a reception. He was obliged to renounce his alliance with France and Denmark ; to resign all his pretensions to the duchy of Gueldres ; to enter into perpetual amity with the emperor and king of the Romans. In return for which, all his hereditary dominions Avere restored, except two towns, which the emperor kept as pledges of the duke's fidelity during the continuance of the war ; and he Avas reinstated in his privileges as a prince of the empire. Not long after, Charles, as a proof of the sincerity of his recon- cilement, gave him in marriage one of the daughters of his brother Ferdinard.'^ Having thus chastised the presumption of the duke of Cleves, dctaclied one of his allies from Francis, and annexed to his own dominions in the Low Countries a considerable province which lay contiguous to them, Charles advanced towards Hainault, and laid siege to Landrecy. There, as " Ilarroi Aiinal. Brabant, torn. i. p. 02S. Rccucil dcs Traitcs, loni. ii. p. 220. BOOK VII.] SOLYMAN INVADES HUNGARY. 105 the first-fruits of his alliance with Henry, he was joined by- six thousand Enghsh under Sir John Wallop. Tiie gar- rison, consisting of veteran troops commanded by De la Lande and Desse, two officers of reputation, made a vigorous resistance. Francis approached with all his forces to relieve that place ; Charles covered the siege ; both were determined to hazard an engagement ; and all Europe expected to see this contest, which had continued so long, decided at last by a battle between two great armies, led by their respective monarchs in person. But the ground which separated their two camps was such as put the dis- advantage manifestly on his side who should venture to attack, and neither of them chose to run that risk. Amidst a variety of movements, in order to draw the enemy into the snare, or to avoid it themselves, Erancis, with admir- able conduct and equal good fortune, threw first a supply of fresh troops, and then a convoy of provisions, into the town, so that the emperor, despairing of success, withdrew into winter-quarters ; ^'^ in order to preserve his army from being entirely ruined by the rigour of the season. During this campaign, Solyman fulfilled his engagements to the French king with great punctuality. He himself inarched into Hungary with a numerous army; and as the princes of the empire made no great effort to save a country which Charles, by employing his own force against Erancis, seemed willing to sacrifice, there was no appearance of any body of troops to oppose his progress. He besieged, one after another, Quinque Ecclesias, Alba, and Gran, the three most considerable towns in the kingdom, of which Ferdinand had kept possession. The first was taken by storm ; the other two surrendered ; and the whole kingdom, a small corner excepted, was subjected to the Turkish yoke.'^ About the same time, Barbarossa sailed with a fleet of a hundred and ten galleys, and, coasting along the shore of Calabria, made a descent at Rheggio, which he plundered '^ Mem. de Bellay, pp. 405, &c. ''* IstuanliafBi Hist. Hung. lib. xv. p. 167. 106 BARBAROSSA'S DESCENT ON ITALY. [bookvii. and burnt; and advancing from thence to the moutli of the Tiber, lie stopped there to water. The citizens of Rome, ignorant of his destination, and filled ^Yith terror, began to fly witli such general precipitation, that the city would have been totally deserted, if they had not resumed courage upon letters from Paidin, the French envoy, assuring them that no violence or injury would be offered by the Turks to any state in alliance with the king his master. ^^ From Ostia, Barbarossa sailed to Marseilles, and being joined by the French fleet with a body of land-forces on board, under the Count d'Enguien, a gallant young prince of the house of Bourbon, they directed their course towards Nice, the sole retreat of the unfortunate duke of Savoy. There, to the astonishment and scandal of all Christendom, the lilies of France and crescent of Mahomet appeared in conjunction against a fortress on which the cross of Savoy was displayed. The town, however, was bravely defended against their combined force by Montfort, a Savoyard gentleman, who stood a general assault, and repulsed the enemy with great loss, before he retired into the castle. That fort, situated upon a rock, on which the artillery made no impression, and which could not be undermined, he held out so long, that Doria had time to approach with his fleet, and the Marquis del Guasto to march with a body of troops from Milan. Upon intelligence of this, the French and Turks raised the siege;'' and Francis had not even the consolation of success, to render the infamy which he drew on himself, by calling in such an auxiliary, more pardonable. From the small progress of cither party during this campaign, it was obvious to what a length the war might be drawn out between two princes, whose power was so equally balanced, and who, by their own talents or activity, could so vary and multiply their resources. TJie trial which thoy had now made of each other's strength might have 'I -iMvii I list. HI), xliii. pp. :\0\; &o. rallavic. p. 100. '' Giiicbcuon, Jlist. dc Savojc, toni. i. p. G.jI. Mem. dc Bcllay, pp. 425, &c. BOOK VII.] IIEVIEW OF GERMAN AFFAIRS. 107 taught them the imprudence of persisting in a war, wherein there was greater appearance of their distressing their own dominions than of conquering those of their adversary, and should have disposed both to wish for peace. If Charles and Francis had been influenced by considerations of interest or prudence alone, this, without doubt, must have been the manner in which they would have reasoned. But the personal animosity^ which mingled itself in all their quarrels, had grown to be so violent and implacable, that, for the pleasure of gratifying it, they disregarded everything else ; and were infinitely more solicitous how to hurt each other, than how to secure what would be of advantage to them- selves. No sooner, then, did the season force them to suspend hostilities, than, without paying any attention to the pope's repeated endeavours or paternal exhortations to re-establish peace, they began to provide for the operations of the next year with new vigour, and an activity increasing with their hatred. Charles turned his chief attention towards gaining the princes of the empire, and endeavoured to rouse the formidable but unwieldy strength of the Germanic body against Francis. In order to understand the propriety of the steps which he took for that purpose, it is necessary to review the chief transactions in that country since the diet of Ratisbon, in the year one thousand five hundred and forty-one. Much about the time that assembly broke up, Maurice succeeded his father Henry in the government of that part of Saxony which belonged to the Albertine branch of the Saxon family. This young prince, then only in his twen- tieth year, had, even at that early period, began to discover the great talents which qualified him for acting such a dis- tinguished part in the affairs of Germany. As soon as he entered upon the administration, he struck out into such a new and singular path, as showed that he aimed from the beginning at something great and uncommon. Though zealously attached to the protestant opinions, both from 108 MAURICE OF SAXONY. [bookvii. education and principle, lie refnsed to accede to the league of Smalkalde, being determined, as he said, to maintain the purity of religion, which was the original object of that confederacy, but not to entangle himself in the political interests or combinations to which it had given rise. At the same time, foreseeing a rupture between Charles and the confederates of Smalkalde, and perceiving which of thera was most likely to prevail in the contest, instead of that jealousy and distrust which the other protestants expressed of all the emperor's designs, he affected to place in him an unbounded confidence, and courted his favour with the utmost assiduity. When the other protestants, in the year fifteen hundred and forty-two, either declined assisting Ferdinand in Hungary, or afforded him reluctant and feeble aid, Maurice marched thither in person, and rendered himself conspicuous by his zeal and courage. From the same motive, he had led to the emperor's assistance, during the last campaign, a body of his own troops ; and the gracefulness of his person, his dexterity in all military exercises, together with his intrepidity, which courted and delighted in danger, did not distinguish him more in the field than his great abilities and insinuating address won upon the emperor's confidence and favour,'^ AVhile by this conduct, which appeared extraordinary to those Avho held the same opinions with him concerning religion, Maurice endeavoured to pay court to the emperor, he began to discover some degree of jealousy of his cousin, the elector of Saxony. This, which proved in the sequel so fatal to the elector, had almost occasioned an open rupture between them ; and soon after Maurice's accession to the government, they both took arms with equal rage, u})oii account of a dispute about the right of jurisdiction ovci- a ])altry town situated on the Moldaw. They were ])r('veiited, however, from proceeding to action by the mediation of the landgrave of llesso, whose daughter "• Sleid. p. 317. Seek. HI), iii. pi). :J71, 3Sf), 428. BOOKviT.] THE rOPE PROPOSES A COUNCIL AT TRENT. 109 Maurice had married, as well as by the powerful and authoritative admonitions of Luther.^'' Amidst these transactions, the pope, though extremely irritated at the emperor's concessions to the protestants at the diet of Ratisbon, was so warmly solicited on all hands, by such as were most devoutly attaclicd to the see of Rome, no less than by those wdiose fidelity or designs he suspected, to summon a general council, that be found it impossible to avoid any longer calhng that assembly. The impatience for its meeting, and the expectations of great effects from its decisions, seemed to grow in proportion to the difficulty of obtaining it. He still adhered, however, to his original resolution of holding it in some town of Italy, where, by the number of ecclesiastics, retainers to his court, and depending on his favour, who could repair to it without difficulty or expense, he might influence and even direct all its proceedings. This proposition, though often rejected by the Germans, he instructed his nuncio to the diet held at Spires, in the year one thousand five hundred and forty-two, to renew once more ; and if he found it gave no greater satisfaction than formerly, he empowered him, as a last concession, to propose, for the place of meeting, Trent, a city in the Tyrol, subject to the king of the Romans, and situated on the confines between Germany and Italy. The catholic princes in the diet, after giving it as their opinion that the council might have been held with greater advantage in Ratisbon, Cologne, or some of the great cities of the empire, were at length induced to approve of the place which the pope had named. The protestants unanimously expressed their dissatisfaction, and protested that they would pay no regard to a council held beyond the precincts of the empire, called by the pope's authority, and in which he assumed the right of pre- siding.^'' The pope, without taking any notice of their objections, '" Sleid. p. 292. Seek. lib. iii. p. 403. ^o giej^j^ p_ 291. Seek. lib. iii. p. 283. 110 CONCESSIONS TO THE PROTESTANTS. [bookvii. published the bull of intimation, named three cardinals to preside as his legates, and appointed them to repair to Trent before the first of November, the day he had fixed for opening the council. But if Paul had desired the meeting of a council as sincerely as he pretended, he would not have pitched on such an improper time for calling it. Instead of that general union and tranquillity, without which the deliberations of a council could neither be con- ducted with security, nor attended with authority, such a fierce war was just kindled between the emperor and Francis, as rendered it impossible for the ecclesiastics from many parts of Europe to resort thither in safety. The legates, accordingly, remained several months in Trent; but as no person appeared there, except a few prelates from the ecclesiastical state, the pope, in order to avoid the ridicule and contempt which this drew upon him from the enemies of the church, recalled them and prorogued the council.^^ Unhappily for the authority of the papal see, at the very time that the German protestants took every occasion of pouring contempt upon it, the emperor and king of the Romans found it necessary not only to connive at their conduct, but to court their favour by repeated acts of indulgence. In the same diet of Spires, in which they had protested in the most disrespectful terms against assembling a council at Trent, Ferdinand, who depended on their aid for the defence of Hungary, not only permitted that pro- testation to be inserted in the records of the diet, but renewed in their favour all the emperor's concessions at Ratisbon, adding to them whatever they demanded for their farther security. Among other particulars, he granted a suspension of a decree of the imperial chamber against the city of Goslar (one of those which had entered into the league of Smalkalde), on account of its having seized the ecclesiastical revenues Avithin its domains, and enjoined -' V. J'aul, p. 07. Sleid. p. 29G. BOOK VII.] THE DUKE 0¥ BRUNSWICK DEFEATED. lU Henry, clukc of Brunswick, to desist from his attempts to carry that decree into execution. But Henry, a furious bigot, and no less obstinate than rash in all his under- takings, continuing to disquiet the people of Goslar by his incursions, the elector of Saxony and landgrave of Hesse, that they might not suffer any member of the Smalkaldic body to be oppressed, assembled their forces, declared war in form against Henry, and in the space of a few weeks, stripping him entirely of his dominions, drove him as a wretched exile to take refuge in the court of Bavaria. By this act of vengeance, no less severe than sudden, they filled all Germany with dread of their power ; and the con- federates of Smalkalde appeared by this first effort of their arms, to be as ready as they were able to protect those Avho had joined the association.^^ Emboldened by so many concessions in their favour, as well as by the progress which their opinions daily made, the princes of the league of Smalkalde took a solemn protest against the imperial chamber, and declined its jurisdiction for the future, because that court had not been visited or reformed according to the decree of Ratisbon, and continued to discover a most indecent partiality in all its proceedings. Not long after this, they ventured a step farther; and protesting against the recess of a diet held at Nuremberg, Avhich provided for the defence of Hungary, refused to furnish their contingent for that purpose, unless the imperial chamber were reformed, and full security were granted them in every point with regard to religion .^'^ [1544.] Such were the lengths to which the protestants had proceeded, and such their confidence in their own power, when the emperor returned from the Low Countries, to hold a diet, which he had summoned to meet at Spires. The respect due to the emperor, as well as the importance ^ Sleid. p. 296. Commemoratio sue- edita : ap. Scardium, torn. ii. p. 307. cincta Causarum Belli, &c., a Snialkal- ^^ Sleid. pp. 304, 307. Seek. lib. iii. dicis contra Hear. Bruiisw. ab iisdem pp. 404, 41 G. 112 DIET AT SPIEES. [bookvii. of the affairs which were to be laid before it, rendered this assembly extremely full. All the electors, a great number of princes, ecclesiastical and secular, with the deputies of most of the cities, were present. Charles soon perceived that this was not a time to offend the jealous spirit of the protestants, by asserting in any high tone the authority and doctrines of the church, or by abridging, in the smallest article, the liberty which they now enjoyed ; but that, on the contrary, if he expected any support from them, or wished to preserve Germany from intestine disorders while he was engaged in a foreign war, he must soothe them by new" concessions, and a more ample extension of their religious privileges. lie began, accordingly, with courting the elector of Saxony, and landgrave of PIcsse, the heads of the protestant party ; and, by giving up some things in their favour, and granting liberal promises with regard to others, he secured hhnself from any danger of opposition on their part. Having gained this capital point, he then ventured to address the diet with greater freedom. He began by representing his own zeal and unwearied efforts with re";ard to two thino;s most essential to Christendom, the procuring of a general council in order to compose the religious dissensions which had unhappily arisen in Ger- many, and the providing some proper means for checking the formidable progress of the Turkish arms. But he observed, with deep regret, that his pious endeavours had been entirely defeated by the unjustiliable ambition of the IVench king, who, having wantonly kindled the flame of war in Europe, which had been so lately extinguished by the truce of Nice, rendered it impossible for the fathers of the church to assemble in council, or to deliberate with security ; and obliged him to employ those forces in his own defence, which, with greater satisfaction to himself, as well as more honour to Christendom, he would have turned against the infidels : that IVancis, not thinking it enough to have called him oil" iVoni opposing the Mahometans, had. BOOK VII.] DIET AT SPIEES. 113 witli unexampled impiety, invited him into the heart of Christendom, and joining his arms to theirs, had openly attacked the duke of Savoy, a member of the empire : that Barbarossa's fleet was now in one of the ports of France, waiting only the return of spring to carry terror and desolation to the coast of some Christian state : that in such a situation, it was folly to think of distant expeditions against the Turk, or of marching to oppose his armies in Hungary, while such a powerful ally received him in the centre of Europe, and gave him footing there. It was a dictate of prudence, he added, to oppose the nearest and most imminent danger, first of all, and, by humbling the power of France, to deprive Solyman of the advantages which he derived from the unnatural confederacy formed between him and a monarch who still arrogated the name of Most Christian : that, in truth, a war against the French king and the sultan ought to be considered as the same thing; and that every advantage gained over the former was a severe and sensible blow to the latter. On all these accounts, he concluded with demanding their aid against Francis, not merely as an enemy of the Germanic body, or of him who was its head, but as an avowed ally of the infidels, and a public enemy to the Christian name. In order to give greater weight to this violent invective of the emperor, the king of the Romans stood up, and related the rapid conquests of the sultan in Hungary, occa- sioned, as he said, by the fatal necessity imposed on his brother of employing his arms against France. When he had finished, the ambassador of Savoy gave a detail of Barbarossa's operations at Nice, and of the ravages which he had committed on that coast. All these, added to the general indignation which Francis's unprecedented union with the Turks excited in Europe, made such an impression on the diet as the emperor wished, and disposed most of the members to grant him such effectual aid as he had demanded. The ambassadors Avhom Francis had sent to VOL. II. I 114 CHARLES'S CONCESSIONS TO PROTESTANTS, [bookvii. explain the motives of his conduct, were not permitted to enter the bounds of the empire ; and the apology which they published for their master, vindicating his alliance with Solyman by examples drawn from Scripture, and the practice of Christian princes, was little regarded by men who were irritated already, or prejudiced against him to such a degree as to be incapable of allowing their proper weight to any arguments in his behalf. Such being the favourable disposition of the Germans, Charles perceived that nothing could now obstruct his gaining all that he aimed at, but the fears and jealousies of the protestants, which he determined to quiet by granting everything that the utmost soHcitude of these passions could desire for the security of their religion. With this view, he consented to a recess, whereby all the rigorous edicts hitherto issued against the protestants were sus- pended; a council, either general or national, to be assem- bled in Germany, was declared necessary, in order to re-establish peace in the church ; until one of these should be held (which the emperor undertook to bring about as soon as possible), the free and public exercise of the protestant religion was authorized; the imperial chamber was enjoined to give no molestation to the protestants ; and when the term for which the present judges in that court were elected should expire, persons duly qualified were then to be admitted as members, without any dis- tinction on account of religion. In return for these extra- ordinary acts of indulgence, the protestants concurred with the other members of the diet in declaring war against Francis, in the name of the empire ; in voting the emperor a body of twenty thousand foot and four thousand horse, to be maintained at the public expense for six months, to be employed against France; and at the same time the diet proposed a poll-tax to be levied throughout all Ger- many, on every person without exception, for the support of the war against the Turks. BOOK VII.] ms NEGOTIATIONS WITH DEmiAUK. 115 Charles, while he gave the greatest attention to the minute and intricate detail of particulars necessary towards conducting the deliberations of a numerous and divided assembly to such a successful period, negotiated a separate peace with the king of Denmark, who, though he had hitherto performed nothing considerable, in consequence of his alliance with Francis, had it in his power, however, to make a troublesome diversion in favour of that monarch,^* At the same time, he did not neglect proper applications to the king of England, in order to rouse him to more vigorous efforts against their common enemy. Little, in- deed, was wanting to accomplish this ; for such events had happened in Scotland as inflamed Henry to the most violent pitch of resentment against Francis. Having con- cluded with the parliament of Scotland a treaty of marriage between his son and their young queen, — by which he reckoned himself secure of effecting the union of the two kingdoms, which had been long desired, and often attempted without success by his predecessors, — Mary of Guise, the queen-mother, Cardinal Beatoun, and other partisans of France, found means not only to break off the match, but to alienate the Scottish nation entirely from the friendship of England, and to strengthen its ancient attachment to France. Henry, however, did not abandon an object of so much importance ; and as the humbling of Francis, besides the pleasure of taking revenge upon an enemy who had dis- appointed a favourite measure, appeared the most effectual method of bringing the Scots to accept once more of the treaty which they had relinquished, he was so eager to accomplish this, that he was ready to second whatever the emperor could propose to be attempted against the French king. The plan, accordingly, which they con- certed, was such, if it had been punctually executed, as must have ruined France in the first place, and would have augmented so prodigiously the emperor's power and 2^ Du Mont, Corps Diijlom. t. iv. p. ii. p. 274. i2 116 THE SIEGE OF CAEIGNAN IN PIEDMONT. [booktii. territories, as might in the end have proved fatal to the liberties of Europe. They agreed to invade France, each with an army of twenty-five thousand men, and, without losing time in besieging the frontier towns, to advance directly towards the interior provinces, and to join their forces near Paris." Francis stood alone in opposition to all the enemies whom Charles was mustering against him. Solyman had been the only ally who did not desert him ; but the assistance which he had received from him had rendered him so odious to all Christendom, that he resolved rather to forego all the advantages of his friendship, than to become, on that account, the object of general detestation. For this reason he dismissed Barbarossa as soon as winter was over, who, after ravaging the coast of Naples and Tuscany, returned to Constantinople. As Francis could not hope to equal the forces of so many powers combined against him, he endeavoured to supply that defect by despatch, which was more in his power, and to get the start of them in taking the field. Early in the spring the Count d'Enguien invested Carignan, a town in Piedmont, which the Marquis del Guasto, the imperial general, having surprised the former year, considered as of so much importance, that he had fortified it at great expense. The count pushed the siege with such vigour, that Guasto, fond of his own conquest, and seeing no other way of saving it from falling into the hands of the French, resolved to hazard a battle in order to relieve it. He began his march from Milan for this purpose; and, as he was at no pains to conceal his intention, it was soon known in the French camp. Enguien, a galKint and enterprising young man, wished passionately to try the fortune of the battle ; his troops desired it with no less ardour; but the prcrcmptory injunction of the king not to venture a general engagement, flowing from a prudent attention to the present situation of aff'airs, as well =* Herbert, p. 245. M^m. de Bellay, p. 4t8. BOOK VII.] FRANCIS HOLDS A PRIVY COUNCIL. 117 as from the remembrance of former disasters, restrained him from venturing upon it. UnvviUing, however, to abandon Carignan when it was just ready to yield, and eager to distinguish his command by some memorable action, he despatched Monluc to court, in order to lay before the king the advantages of fighting the enemy, and the hopes which he had of victory. The king referred the matter to his privy council ; all the ministers declared, one after another, against fighting, and supported their senti- ments by reasons extremely plausible. While they were delivering their opinions, Monluc, who was permitted to be present, discovered such visible and extravagant symp- toms of impatience to speak, as well as such dissatisfaction with what he heard, that Francis, diverted with his appear- ance, called on him to declare what he could offer in reply to sentiments which seemed to be as just as they were general. Upon this, Monluc, a plain but spirited soldier, and of known courage, represented the good condition of the troops, their eagerness to meet the enemy in the fi.eld, their confidence in their officers, together with the ever- lasting infamy which the declining of a battle would bring on the French arms ; and he urged his arguments with such a lively impetuosity, and such a flow of military eloquence, as gained over to his opinion, not only the king, naturally fond of daring actions, but several of the council. Francis, catching the same enthusiasm which had animated his troops, suddenly started up, and having lifted his hands to heaven and implored the divine pro- tection, he then addressed himself to Monluc : " Go," says he, " return to Piedmont, and fight in the name of God."-« No sooner was it known that the king had given Enguien leave to fight the imperialists, than, such was the martial ardour of the gallant and high-spirited gentlemen of that '^ Mem. de Mooluc. 118 BATTLE OF CERISOLES. [B00K\^I. age, that the court was quite deserted, every person desirous of reputation, or capable of service, liurrying to Piedmont, in order to share, as volunteers, in the danger and glory of the action. Encouraged by the arrival of so many brave officers, Enguien immediately prepared for battle, nor did Guasto decline the combat. The number of cavalry was almost equal, but the imperial infantry exceeded the French by at least ten thousand men. They met near Cerisoles, in an open plain, which afforded to neither any advantage of ground, and both had full time to form then- army in proper order. The shock was such as might have been expected between veteran troops, violent and obstinate. The French cavalry, rushing forward to the charge with their usual vivacity, bore down everything that opposed them ; but, on the other hand, the steady and disciplined valour of the Spanish infantry having forced the body Avhich they encountered to give way, victory remained in suspense, ready to declare for whichever general could make the best use of that critical moment. Guasto, engaged in that part of his army which was thrown into disorder, and afraid of fahing into the hands of the French, whose vengeance he dreaded on account of the murder of Rincon and Fregoso, lost his presence of mind, and forgot to order a large body of reserve to advance ; whereas Enguien, with admirable conduct, and equal courage, sup- ported, at the head of his gens d'armes, such of his bat- talions as began to yield; and, at the same time, he ordered the Swiss in his service, who had been victorious \vherever they fought, to fall upon the Spaniards. This motion proved decisive. All that followed was confusion and slaughter. The Marquis del Guasto, wounded in the thigh, escaped only by the swiftness of his horse. The victory of the French was complete, ten thousand of the imperialists being slain, and a considerable number, with all their tents, baggage, and artillery, taken. On the part of the conquerors, their joy was without alloy, a few T500KVII.] OPERATIONS IN THE LOW COUNTRIES. 119 only being killed, and among these no officer of dis- tinction." This splendid action, beside the reputation with which it was attended, delivered Trance from an imminent danger, as it ruined the army with which Guasto had intended to invade the country between the Rhone and Saone, where there were neither fortified town nor regular forces to oppose his progress. But it was not in Francis's power to pursue the victory with such vigour as to reap all the advantages which it might have yielded : for though the Milanese remained now almost defenceless; though the inhabitants, who had long murmured under the rigour of the imperial government, were ready to throw off the yoke; though Enguien, flushed with success, urged the king to seize this happy opportunity of recovering a country, the acquisition of which had been long his favourite object; yet, as the emperor and king of England were preparing to break in upon the opposite frontier of Erance with numerous armies, it became necessary to sacrifice all thoughts of conquest to the public safety, and to recal twelve thousand of Enguien's best troops to be employed in defence of the kingdom. Enguien's subsequent opera- tions were, of consequence, so languid and inconsiderable, that the reduction of Carignan and some other towns in Piedmont, was all that he gained by his great victory at Cerisoles.^^ The emperor, as usual, was late in taking the field; but he appeared, towards the beginning of June, at the head of an army more numerous and better appointed than any which he had hitherto led against France. It amounted almost to fifty thousand men ; and part of it having reduced Luxembourg and some other towns in the Netherlands, before he himself joined it, he now marched with the whole towards the frontiers of Champagne. Charles, according ^ Mem. de Bellay, pp. 429, &c. Mem. de Monluc. Jovii Hist. lib. xliv. p. 327, 6. ^ Mem. de Bellay, pp. 438, &c. 120 CHARLES IN^TISTS ST. DISIER. [bookvii. to his agreement with the king of England, ought to have advanced directly towards Paris ; and the dauphin, who commanded the only army to which Francis trusted for the security of his dominions in that quarter, was in no con- dition to oppose him. But the success with which the French had defended Provence in the year one thousand five hundred and thirty-six, had taught them the most effectual method of distressing an invading enemy Champagne, a country abounding more in vines than corn was incapable of maintaining a great army ; and before the emperor's approach, whatever could be of any use to his troops had been carried off or destroyed. This rendered it necessary for him to be master of some places of strength, in order to secure the convoys, on which alone he now per- ceived that he must depend for subsistence ; and he found the frontier towns so ill provided for defence, that he hoped it would not be a work either of much time or difficulty to reduce them. Accordingly, Ligny and Commercy, which he first attacked, surrendered after a short resistance. He then invested St. Disier, which, though it commanded an important pass on the Marne, was destitute of everything necessary for sustaining a siege. But the Count de Sancerre and M. de la Lande, who had acquired such reputation by the defence of Landrecy, generously threw themselves into the town, and undertook to hold it out to the last extremity. Tiie emperor soon found how capable they were of making good their promise, and that he could not expect to take the town without besieging it in form. This accordingly he undertook ; and as it was his nature never to abandon any enterprise in which he had once engaged, he persisted in it with inconsiderate obstinacy. The king of England's preparations for the campaign were complete long before the emperor's ; but as lie did not choose, on the one hand, to encounter alone the whole power of France, and was unwilling, on the other, that his troops should remain inactive, he took that opportunity of BOORVTi.] HENRY Vm. BESIEGES BOULOGNE. 121 chastising tlie Scots, by sending his fleet, together with a considerable part of his infantry, under the earl of Hertford, to invade their country. Hertford executed his commission with vigour, plundered and burned Edinburgh and Leith, laid waste the adjacent country, and reimbarked his men with such despatch that they joined their sovereign soon after his landing in France. ^^ When Henry arrived in that kingdom, he found the emperor engaged in the siege of St. Disier : an ambassador, however, whom he sent to con- gratulate the English monarch on his safe arrival on the continent, solicited him to march, in terms of the treaty, directly to Paris. But Charles had set his ally such an ill example of fulfilling the conditions of their confederacy with exactness, that Henry, observing him employ his time and forces in taking towns for his own behoof, saw no reason why he should not attempt the reduction of some places that lay conveniently for himself. Without paying any regard to the emperor's remonstrances, he immediately invested Boulogne, and commanded the duke of Norfolk to press the siege of Montreuil, which had been begun before his arrival, by a body of Flemings, in conjunction with some English troops. While Charles and Henry showed such attention each to his own interest, they both neglected the common cause. Instead of the union and confidence requisite towards conducting the great plan that they had formed, they early discovered a mutual jealousy of each other, which, by degrees, begot distrust, and ended in open hatred.^'' By this time, Francis had, with unwearied industry, drawn together an array, capable, as well from the number as from the valour of the troops, of making head against the enemy. But the dauphin, who still acted as general, prudently declining a battle, the loss of which would have endangered the kingdom, satisfied himself with haras- sing the emperor with his light troops, cutting off his »» History of Scotland, vol. i. p. 90. ^ Herbert. 122 GALLANT DEFENCE OE ST. DISIER. [bookvii. convoys, and laying waste the country around liim. Though extremely distressed by these operations, Charles still pressed the siege of St. Disier, which Sancerre defended with astonishing fortitude and conduct. He stood repeated assaults, repulsing the enemy in them all ; and undismayed even by the death of his brave associate De la Lande, who was killed by a cannon-ball, he continued to show the same bold countenance and obstinate resolution. At the end of five weeks, he was still in a condition to hold out for some time longer, when an artifice of Granvell's induced him to surrender. That crafty politician, having intercepted the key to the cipher which the duke of Guise used in com- municating intelligence to Sancerre, forged a letter in his name, authorizing Sancerre to capitulate, as the king, though highly satisfied with his behaviour, thought it imprudent to hazard a battle for his relief. This letter he conveyed into the town in a manner which could raise no suspicion, and the governor fell into the snare. Even then he obtained such honourable conditio as as his gallant defence merited, and, among others, a cessation of hostilities for eight days, at the expiration of which he bound himself to open the gates, if Francis, during that time, did not attack the imperial army, and throw fresh troops into the town.^^ Thus Sancerre, by detaining the emperor so long before an inconsiderable place, afforded his sovereign full time to assemble all his forces, and, Avhat rarely falls to the lot of an officer in such an inferior command, acquired the glory of having saved his country. As soon as St. Disier surrendered, the emperor advanced into the heart of Champagne ; but Sancerre's obstinate resistance had damped his sanguine hopes of penetrating to Paris, and led him seriously to reflect on what he might expect before towns of greater strength, and defended by more numerous gjirrisons. At the same time, the i)rocuring subsistence for his army was attended with great dilficulty, ■"" ]5raiiloiiio, toiii. vi. p. 489. BooKVii.] CHARLES APPROACHES PARIS. 123 which increased in proportion as he withdrew farther from his own frontier. He had lost a great number of his best troops in the siege of St. Disier, and many fell daily in skirmishes, which it was not in his power to avoid, though they wasted his army insensibly, without leading to any decisive action. The season advanced apace, and he had not yet the command either of a sufficient extent of territory, or of any such considerable town as rendered it safe to winter in the enemy's country. Great arrears, too, were now due to his soldiers, who were upon the point of mutinying for their pay, while he knew not from what funds to satisfy them. All these considerations induced him to listen to the overtures of peace, which a Spanish Dominican, the confessor of his sister the queen of France, had secretly made to his confessor, a monk of the same order. In consequence of this, plenipotentionaries were named on both sides, and began their conferences in Chausse, a small village near Chalons. At the same time, Charles, either from a desire of making one great final effort against France, or merely to gain a pretext for deserting his ally, and concluding a separate peace, sent an ambassador formally to require Henry, according to the stipulation in their treaty, to advance towards Paris. While he expected a return from him, and waited the issue of the conferences at Chausse, he continued to march forward, though in the utmost distress from scarcity of provisions. But, at last, by a fortunate motion on his part, or through some neglect or treachery on that of the French, he surprised first Esperney, and then Chateau Thierry, in both which were considerable magazines. No sooner was it known that these towns, the latter of w^hich is not two days' march from Paris, were in the hands of the enemy, than that great capital, defenceless, and susceptible of any violent alarm in proportion to its greatness, was filled with consternation. The inhabitants, as if the emperor had been already at their gates, fled in the wildest confusion and 124 PEACE CONCLUDED AT CRESPY. [bookvii. despair, many sending their wives and cliildren down the Seine to Rouen, others to Orleans, and the towns upon the Loire. Francis himself, more afflicted with this than with any other event during his reign, and sensible as well of the triumph that his rival would enjoy in insulting his capital, as of the danger to which the kingdom was exposed, could not refrain from crying out, in the first emotion of his surprise and sorrow, " How dear, my God, do I pay for this crown, which I thought thou hadst granted me freely! "^- but recovering in a moment from this sudden sally of peevishness and impatience, he devoutly added, " Thy will, however, be done ;" and proceeded to issue the neces- sary orders for opposing the enemy with his usual activity and presence of mind. The dauphin detached eight thousand men to Paris, which revived the courage of the affrighted citizens ; he threw a strong garrison into Meaux, and by a forced march got into Ferte, between the impe- rialists and the capital. Upon this, the emperor, who began again to feel the want of provisions, perceiving that the dauphin still prudently declined a battle, and not daring to attack his camp with forces so much shattered and reduced by hard service, turned suddenly to the right, and began to fall back towards Soissons. Having about this time received Henry's answer, whereby he refused to abandon the sieges of Boulogne and ]\Iontreuil, both of which he expected every moment to get possession, he thought himself absolved from all obligations of adhering to the treaty with him, and at full liberty to consult his own interest in what manner soever he pleased. He consented, therefore, to renew the conference, which the surprise of Esperney had broken off. To conclude a peace between two princes, one of wliom greatly desired, and the other greatly needed it, did not require a long negotiation. It was signed at Crespy, a small town near Meaux, on the eighteenth of September. The chief articles of it were, *^ Bruutome, tom. vi. p. 381. BooKvri.] TERMS OF TIFE TREATY. 125 That all the conquests which either party had made since the truce of Nice shall be restored ; that the emperor shall give in marriage to the duke of Orleans, either his own eldest daughter, or the second daughter of his brother Ferdinand ; that if he chose to bestow on him his own daughter, he shall settle on her all the provinces of the Low Countries, to be erected into an independent state, which shall descend to the male issue of the marriage ; that if he determined to give him liis niece, he shall, with her grant him the investiture of Milan and its depen- dencies ; that he shall within four months declare which of these two princesses he had pitched upon, and fulfil the respective conditions upon the consummation of the mar- riage, which shall take place within a year from the date of the treaty; that as soon as the duke of Orleans is put in possession either of the Low Countries or of Milan, Francis shall restore to the duke of Savoy all that he now possesses of his territories, except Pignerol and Mont- milian ; that Francis shall renounce all pretensions to the kingdom of Naples, or to the sovereignty of Flanders and Artois, and Charles shall give up his claim to the duchy of Burgundy and county of Charolois ; that Francis shall give no aid to the exiled king of Navarre ; that both monarchs shall join in making war upon the Turk, towards which the king shall furnish, when required by the emperor and empire, six hundred men-at-arms, and ten thousand foot.^^ Besides the immediate motives to this peace, arising from the distress of his army through want of provisions ; from the difficulty of retreating out of France ; and the impossi- bility of securing winter-quarters there ; the emperor was influenced by other considerations, more distant, indeed, but not less weighty. The pope was ofiended to a great degree, as well at his concessions to the protestants in the late diet, as at his consenthig to call a council, and to admit ^ Recueil des Traites, torn. i. p. 227. Belius de Causis Pacis Crepiac. ia Actis Erupt. Lips. 1736. 126 TIIE POPE IjSXEXSED AGAINST CHARLES. [bookvii. of public disputations in Germany with a view of determin- ing the doctrines in controversy. Paul, considering both these steps as sacrilegious encroachments on the jurisdiction as well as privileges of the holy see, had addressed to the emperor a remonstrance rather than a letter on this subject, written with such acrimony of language, and in a style of such high authority, as discovered more of an intention to draw on a quarrel than of a desire to reclaim him. This ill-humour was not a little inflamed by the emperor's league with Henry of England, which being contracted with a heretic, excommunicated by the apostolic see, appeared to the pope a profane alliance, and was not less dreaded by him than that of Francis with Solyman. Paul's son and grandson, highly incensed at the emperor for having refused to gratify them with regard to the alienation of Parma and Placentia, contributed by their suggestions to sour and dis- gust him still more. To all which was added the powerful operation of the flattery and promises which Francis inces- santly employed to gain him. Though, from his desire of maintaining a neutrality, the pope had hitherto suppressed his own resentment,had eluded the artifices of his own family, and resisted the solicitations of the French king, it was not safe to rely much on the steadiness of a man whom his passions, his friends, and his interest combined to shake. The union of the pope with France, Charles well knew, would instantly expose his dominions in Italy to be at- tacked. The Venetians, he foresaw, would probably follow the example of a pontiff", who was considered as a model of political wisdom among the Italians ; and thus, at a junc- ture when he felt himself hardly equal to the burden of the present war, he would be overwhelmed with the weight of a new confederacy against him.^^ At the same time, the Tin'ks, almost unresisted, made such a progress in Hungary, reducing town after town, that they approached near to the confines of the Austrian provinces. ^^ Above all these, the « P. Paul, p. 100. Pallavic. p. WX ^■- Istuanhaflii Ili.t. Hung. p. 177. BOOK VII.] WIIO CHANGES HIS POLICY. 127 extraordinary progress of tlie protestant doctrines in Ger- many, and the dangerous combination into which the princes of that profession had entered, called for his imme- diate attention. Ahiiost one-half of Germany had revolted from the established church ; the fidelity of the rest was much shaken ; the nobility of Austria had demanded of Ferdinand the free exercise of religion ;^° the Bohemians, among whom some seeds of the doctrines of Huss still remained, openly favoured the new opinions ; the arch- bishop of Cologne, with a zeal which is seldom found among ecclesiastics, had begun the reformation of his diocese ; nor was it possible, unless some timely and effectual check were given to the spirit of innovation, to foresee where it would end. He himself had been a witness, in the late diet, to the peremptory and decisive tone which the protestants had now assumed. He had seen how, from confidence in their number and union, they had forgotten the humble style of their first petitions, and had grown to such boldness as openly to despise the pope, and to show no great reverence for the imperial dignity itself. If, therefore, he wished to maintain either the ancient religion or his own authority, and would not choose to dwindle into a mere nominal head of the empire, some vigorous and speedy eff'ort was requi- site on his part, which could not be made during a war that required the greatest exertion of his strength against a foreign and powerful enemy. Such being the emperor's inducements to peace, he had the address to frame the treaty of Crespy so as to promote all the ends which he had in view. By coming to an agreement with Francis, he took from the pope all prospects of advantage in courting the friendship of that monarch in preference to his. By the proviso with regard to a war with the Turks, he not only deprived Solyman of a powerful ally, but turned the arms of that ally against him. By a private article, not inserted in the treaty, that it might 36 Slcid. p. 2S5. 128 WAH BETA^TEN EEANCE AND ENGLAND. [bookvii. not raise any unseasonable alarm, lie agreed with Francis that both should exert all their influence and power in order to procure a general council, to assert its authority, and to exterminate the protestant heresy out of their dominions. This cut off all chance of assistance which the confederates of Smalkalde might expect from the French king ; ^^ and lest their solicitations, or his jealousy of an ancient rival, should hereafter tempt Francis to forget this engagement, he left him embarrassed with a war against England, which would put it out of his power to take any considerable part in the affairs of Germany. Henry, possessed at all times with a high idea of his own power and importance, felt, in the most sensible manner, the neglect with which the emperor had treated him in concluding a separate peace. But the situation of his affairs was such as somewhat alleviated the mortification which this occasioned. For though he was obliged to recal the duke of Norfolk from the siege of Montreuil, because the Flemish troops received orders to retire, Boulogne had surrendered before the negotiations at Crespy were brought to an issue. While elated with vanity on account of this conquest, and inflamed with indignation against the emperor, the ambassadors whom Francis sent to make overtures of peace, found him too arrogant to grant what was moderate or equitable. His demands were indeed extravagant, and made in the tone of a conqueror; that Francis should renounce his alliance with Scotland, and not only pay up the arrears of former debts, but reimburse the money which Henry had expended in the present war. Francis, though sincerely desirous of peace, and willing to yield a great deal in order to attain it, being now free from the pressure of the imi)erial arms, rejected these ignominious propositions with disdain ; and Henry departing for England, hostilities continued between the two nations.'^* »7 Seek. lib. iii. p. 496. '« M^m. de Ribier, (om. i. p. 572. Herbert, p. 244. BOOKvn.] THE PEACE DISSATISFIES THE DAUPHIN. 129 The treaty of peace, liow acceptable soever to the people of France, whom it delivered from the dread of an enemy who had penetrated into the heart of the kingdom, was loudly complained of by the dauphin. He considered it as a manifest proof of the king his father's extraordinary partiality towards his younger brother, now duke of Orleans, and complained that, from his eagerness to gain an establishment for a favourite son, he had sacrificed the honour of the kingdom, and renounced the most ancient as well as valuable rights of the crown. But as he durst not venture to offend the king by refusing to ratify it, though extremely desirous at the same time of securing to himself the privilege of reclaiming what was now alienated so much to his detriment, he secretly protested, in presence of some of his adherents, against the whole transaction ; and declared whatever he should be obliged to do in order to confirm it, null in itself, and void of all obligation. The parliament of Thoulouse, probably by the instigation of his partisans, did the same.^^ But Francis, highly pleased as w^ell with having delivered his subjects from the miseries of an invasion, as with the prospect of acquiring an inde- pendent settlement for his son at no greater price than that of renouncing conquests to which he had no just claim ; titles which had brought so much expense and so many disasters upon the nation ; and rights grown obsolete and of no value ; ratified the treaty with great joy. Charles, within the time prescribed by the treaty, declared his inten- tion of giving Ferdinand's daughter in marriage to the duke of Orleans, together with the duchy of Milan as her dowry.*" Every circumstance seemed to promise the continuance of peace. The emperor, cruelly afflicted with the gout, appeared to be in no condition to inidertake any enterprise where great activity was requisite, or much fatigue to be endured. He himself felt this, or wished at least that it should be believed ; and being so much disabled by this 39 Recueil des Traites, torn. ii. pp. 235, 238. "» Ibid. p. 238. VOL. II. K 130 CHARLES'S SCHE:MES RESPECTING GERilANY. [book vii. excruciating distemper, when a Prencli ambassador followed him to Brussels, in order to be present at his ratification of the treaty of peace, that it was with the utmost difficulty that he signed his name, he observed, that there was no great danger of his violating these articles, as a hand that could hardly hold a pen was little able to brandish a lance. The violence of his disease confined the emperor several months in Brussels, and was the apparent cause of putting off the execution of the great scheme Avhich he had formed in order to humble the protestant party in Germany. But there wei-e other reasons for this delay. Por, however preva- lent the motives were which determined liira to undertake this enterprise, the nature of that great body which he was about to attack, as w^ell as the situation of his own affairs, made it necessary to deliberate long, to proceed with caution, and not too suddenly to throw aside the veil under which he had hitherto concealed his real sentiments and schemes. He was sensible that the protestants, conscious of their own strength, but under continual apprehensions of his designs, had all the boldness of a powerful con- federacy, joined to the jealousy of a feeble faction ; and WTre no less quick- sighted to discern the first appearance of danger, than ready to take arms in order to repel it. At the same time, he still continued involved in a Turkish w^ar; and thongli, in order to deliver himself from this incumbrance, he had determined to send an envoy to the Porte Avith most advantageous and even submissive over- tures of peace, the resolutions of that haughty court were so uncertain, that, before these were known, it w^ould have been highly imprudent to have kindled the flames of civil war in his own dominions. Upon this account, he appeared dissatisfied with a bull issued Ijy the pope immediately after the peace of Crespy, summoning tlic council to assemble at Trent early next spring, and exhorting all Christian princes to embrace the BOOK VII.] DIET AT WORMS, 131 opportunity that the present happy interval of tranqnillity afforded them, of suppressing those heresies which threat- ened to subvert whatever was sacred or venerable among Christians. But, after such a slight expression of dehght, as was necessary in order to cover his designs, he deter- mined to countenance the council, which might become no inconsiderable instrument towards accomplishing his pro- jects, and therefore not only appointed ambassadors to appear there in his name, but ordered the ecclesiastics in his dominions to attend at the time prefixed.^* Such were the emperor's views, when the imperial diet, after several prorogations, was opened at AVorms [March 24, 1545]. The protestants,who enjoyed the free exercise of their religion by a very precarious tenure, having no other security for it than the recess of the last diet, Avhich was to continue in force only until the meeting of a council, wished earnestly to establish that important privilege upon some firmer basis, and to hold it by a perpetual, not a temporary title. But, instead of offering them any additional security, Ferdinand opened the diet with observing, that there were two points which chiefly required consideration — the pro- secution of the war against the Turks, and the state of religion ; that the former was the most urgent, as Solynian, after conquering the greatest part of Hungary, was now ready to fall upon the Austrian provinces ; that the em- peror, who, from the beginning of his reign, had neglected no opportunity of annoying this formidable enemy, and with the hazard of his own person had resisted his attacks, being animated still with the same zeal, had now consented to stop short in the career of his success against France, that, in conjunction Avith his ancient rival, he might turn his arras with greater vigour against the common adversary of the Christian faith ; that it became all the members of the empire to second those pious endeavours of its head; that, therefore, they ought, without delay, to vote him such « E. Paul, p. 104. k2 132 DIET AT WOEMS. [bookvii. effectual aid, as not only tlieii' duty but their interest called upon them to furnish ; that the controversies about religion were so intricate, and of such difficult discussion, as to give no hope of its being possible to bring them at present to any final issue ; that by perseverance and repeated solicita- tions the emperor had at length prevailed on the pope to call a council, for -which they had so often wished and petitioned ; that the time appointed for its meeting was noAv come, and both parties ought to wait for its decrees, and submit to them as the decisions of the universal church. The popish members of the diet received this declaration with great applause, and signified their entire acquiescence in every particular which it contained. The protestants expressed great surprise at propositions which were so manifestly repugnant to the recess of the former diet ; they insisted that the questions with regard to religion, as first in dignity and importance, ought to come first under deli- beration ; that, alarming as the progress of the Turks was to all Germany, the securing the free exercise of their religion touched them still more nearly, nor could they prosecute a foreign war with spirit Avhile solicitous and uncertain about their domestic tranquillity; that if the latter were once rendered firm and permanent, they would concur with their countrymen in pushing the former, and yield to none of them in activity or zeal. But if the danger from the Turkish arms were indeed so imminent, as not to admit of such a delay as would be occasioned by an imme- diate examination of the controverted points in religion, they required that a diet should he instantly appointed, to wliicli the final settlement of their religious disputes should 1)0 referred ; and that in the meantime the decree of the former diet concerning religion should be explained in a | ])oint which they deemed essential. By the recess of Spires it was jjrovided, that they should enjoy unmolested the public exercise of their religion, until the meeting of a legal BOOK VII.] TIIE EMPEROR ARRIVES AT WORMS. 133 council; but as the pope had now called a council, to which Ferdinand had required them to submit, they began to suspect that their adversaries might take advantage of an ambiguity in the terms of the recess, and pretending that the event therein mentioned had now taken place, might pronounce them to be no longer entitled to the same indulgence. In order to guard against this interpre- tation, they renewed their former remonstrances against a council called to meet without the bounds of the empire, summoned by the pope's authority, and in which he assumed the right of presiding ; and declared that, notwith- standing the convocation of any such illegal assembly, they still held the recess of the late diet to be in full force. At other junctures, when the emperor thought it of advantage to soothe and gain the protestants, he had devised expedients for giving them satisfaction with regard to demands seemingly more extravagant ; but his views at present being very different, Ferdinand, by his command, adhered inflexibly to his first propositions, and would make no concessions which had the most remote tendency to throw discredit on the council, or to weaken its authority. The protestants, on their part, were no less inflexible ; and after much time spent in fruitless endeavours to convince each other, they came to no agreement. Nor did the presence of the emperor, who, upon his recovery, arrived at Worms, contribute in any degree to render the protestants- more compliant. Fully convinced that they were main- taining the cause of God and of truth, they showed them- selves superior to the allurements of interest, or the suggestions of fear; and in proportion as the emperor redoubled his solicitations, or discovered his designs, their boldness seems to have increased. At last they openly declared, that they would not even deign to vindicate their tenets in presence of a council, assembled not to examine, but to condemn them ; and that they would pay no regard to an assembly held under the influence of a pope, who had 134 CONDUCT OF MAUHICE OF SAXONY. [bookyh. already precluded himself from all title to act as a judge, by his having stigmatized their opinions by the name of heresy, and denounced against them the heaviest censures, which, in the plenitude of his usurped power, he could inflict/- While the protestants, with such union as wtII as firm- ness, rejected all intercourse with the council, and refused their assent to their imperial demands in respect to the Turkish war, IMaurice of Saxony alone showed an inclina- tion to gratify the emperor with regard to both. Though he professed an inviolable regard for the protestant reli- gion, he assumed an appearance of moderation peculiar to himself, by wiiich he confirmed the favourable sentiments which the emperor already entertained of him, and gra- dually paved the way for executing the ambitious designs which always occupied his active and enterprising mind." His example, however, had little influence upon such as agreed with him in their religious opinions ; and Charles perceived that he could not hope either to procure present aid from the protestants against the Turks, or to quiet their fears and jealousies on account of their religion. But, as his schemes w^re not yet ripe for execution, nor his preparations so far advanced that he could force the com- pliance of the protestants, or punish their obstinacy, he artfully concealed his own intentions. That he might augment their security, he appointed a diet to be held at Ratisbon early next year, in order to adjust what was now left undetermined ; and previous to it, he agreed that a certain number of divines of each party should meet, in order to confer upon the points in dispute.^^ But, how far soever this appearance of a desire to maintain the present tranquillity might have imposed upon the protestants, the emperor was incapable of such uniform and thorough dissimulation, as to hide altogether from « Slcid. pp. 313, S:c. Sock. lib. iii. « Socle. lib. iii. p. 571. pp. bi.i, &c. Tiiuaii Hist, lib.ii. p. 56. ** Sleid. p. 351. BOOK VII.] PROTESTANTS SUSPECT TEE EMPEROR. 135 tlieir view the dangerous designs whieli he was meditating against tiieni. Herman, count de Wied, archbishop and elector of Cologne, a prelate conspicuous for his virtue and primitive simplicity of manners, though not more distin- guished for learning than the other descendants of noble families, who in that age possessed most of the great benefices in Germany, having become a proselyte to the doctrines of the reformers, had begun, in the year one thousand five hundred and forty-tln^ee, with the assistance of Melancthon and Bucer, to abolish the ancient super- stition in his diocese, and to introduce in its place the rites established among the protestants. But the canons of his cathedral, wlio were not possessed with the same spirit of innovation, and who foresaw how fatally the levelling genius of the new sect would prove to their dignity and wealth, opposed, from the beginning, this unprecedented enterprise of their archbishop, with all the zeal flowing from reverence for old institutions, heightened by concern for their own interest. This opposition, which the archbishop considered only as a new argument to demonstrate the necessity of a reformation, neither shook his resolution, nor slackened his ardour in prosecuting his plan. The canons, perceiving all their endeavours to check his career to be ineffectual, solemnly protested against liis proceedings, and appealed for redress to the pope and emperor, the former as his ecclesiastical, the latter as his civil superior. This aj)peal being laid before the emperor, during his residence in Worms, he took the canons of Cologne under his immediate protection ; enjoined them to proceed with rigour against all who revolted from the established church ; prohibited the archbishop to make any innovation in his diocese ; and summoned him to appear at Brussels within thirty days, to answer the accusations which should be preferred against him.^^ To this clear evidence of his hostile intentions against « Sleid. pp. 310, 310, 351. Seek. lib. iii. pp. US, 553. 136 DEATH OF THE DUKE OE ORLEANS. [book vii. the protestant party, Cliarles added other proofs still more explicit. In his hereditary dominions of the Low Countries, he persecuted all who were suspected of Lutheranism with unrelenting vigour. As soon as he arrived at Worms, he silenced the protestant preachers in that city. He allowed an Italian monk to inveig-h against the Lutherans from the pulpit of his chapel, and to call upon him, as he regarded the favour of God, to exterminate that pestilent heresy. He despatched the embassy, which has been already men- tioned, to Constantinople, with overtures of peace, that he might be free from any apprehensions of danger or inter- ruption from that quarter. Nor did any of these steps, or their dangerous tendency, escape the jealous observation of the protestants, or fail to alarm their fears, and to excite their solicitude for the safety of their sect. Meanwhile, Charles's good fortune, which predominated on all occasions over that of his rival Francis, extricated him out of a difficulty, from which, with all his sagacity and address, he would have found it no easy matter to have disentangled himself. Just about the time when the duke of Orleans should have received Ferdinand's dauo;hter in marriage, and together with her the possession of the ]\Iilanese, he died of a malignant fever. By this event, the emperor was freed from the necessity of giving up a valuable province into the hands of an enemy, or from the indecency of violating a recent and solemn engagement, which must have occasioned an inuuediate rupture with France. He affected, however, to express great sorrow for the untimely death of a young prince, who was to have been so nearly allied to him ; but he carefully avoided entering into any fresh discussions concerning the Milanese ; and wouhl not listen to a proposal which came from Francis, of new-modelling the treaty of Crespy, so as to make him some reparation for the advantages which he liad lost by the demise of his son. In the more active and vigorous part of Francis's reign, a declaration of war BOOK VII.] THE POPE GIVES IITS SON TWO DUCniES. 137 would have been the certain and instantaneous consequence of such a flat refusal to comply with a demand seemingly so equitable ; but the declining state of his own health, the exhausted condition of his kingdom, together with the burden of the war against England, obliged him, at present, to dissemble his resentment, and to put off thoughts of revenge to some other juncture. In consequence of this event, the unfortunate duke of Savoy lost all hope of obtaining the restitution of his territories ; and the rights or claims relinquished by the treaty of Crespy returned in full force to the crown of Prance, to serve as pretexts for future wars/" Upon the first inteUigence of the duke of Orleans' death, the confederates of Sraalkalde flattered themselves that the essential alterations which appeared to be unavoidable consequences of it could hardly fail of producing a rupture, which would prove the means of their safety. But they were not more disappointed with regard to this, than in their expectations from an event which seemed to be the certain prelude of a quarrel between the emperor and the pope. When Paul, whose passion for aggrandizing his family increased as he advanced in years, and as he saw the dignity and power which they derived immediately from him becoming more precarious, found that he could not bring Charles to approve of his ambitious schemes, he ven- tured to Q;rant his son Peter Lewis the investiture of Parma and Placentia, though at the risk of incurring the dis- pleasure of the emperor. At a time when a great part of Europe inveighed openly against the corrupt manners and exorbitant power of ecclesiastics, and when a council was summoned to reform the disorders in the church, this indecent grant of such a principality, to a son, of whose illegitimate birth the pope ought to have been ashamed, and whose licentious morals all good men detested, gave general offence. Some cardinals in the imperial interest *^ Belcarii Comnienf. p. 709. Paruta, Hist. Venet. iv. p. 177. 138 DUKE OF BRUXSWICK DISTURBS GERMANY, [book to. remonstrated against such an iinbecomino- alienation of the patrimony of the church; the Spanish ambassador would not be present at the solemnity of his infeofiment ; and, upon pretext that these cities were part of the Milanese state, the emperor peremptorily refused to confirm the deed of investiture. But both the emperor and pope being intent upon one common object in Germany, they sacrificed their particular passions to that public cause, and suppressed the emotions of jealousy or resentment which were rising on this occasion, that they might jointly pursue what each deemed to be of greater importance.''^ About this time the peace of Gtrmany was disturbed by a short but violent irruption of Henry, duke of Bruns- wick. This prince, though still stripped of his dominions, w^hich the emperor held in sequestration, until his differ- ences with the confederates of Smalkalde should be adjusted, possessed however so much credit in Germany, that he undertook to raise for the French king a considerable body of troops to be employed in the war against England. The money stipulated for this purpose was duly advanced by Francis ; the troops were levied ; but Henry, instead of leading them towards Prance, suddenly entered his own dominions at their head, in hopes of recovering possession of them before any army could be assembled to oppose him. The confederates were not more surprised at this unex- pected attack, than the king of France was astonished at a mean thievish fraud, so mibccoming the character of a prince. But the landgrave of Hesse, with incredible expedition, collected as many men as put a stop to the progress of Henry's undisciplined forces, and being joined by his son-in-law, Maurice, and by some troops belonging to the elector of Saxony, he gained such advantages over Henry, who was rash and bold in forming his schemes, but feeble and undetermined in executing them, as obliged him to disband his army, and to surrender himself, together « Paruta, Hist. Vcnct, iv. p. 178. Pallavlc. p. 180. BooKvii.] REFORMATION OF THE PALATINATE. 139 with his eldest son, prisoners at discretion. He was kept in close confinement, until a new reverse of affairs procured him liberty.'^'* [1546.] As this defeat of Henry's wild enterprise added new reputation to the arms of the protestants, the establish- ment of the protestant religion in the palatine brought a great accession of strength to their party. Frederick, who succeeded his brother Lewis in that electorate, had long been suspected of a secret propensity to the doctrines of the reformers, which, upon his accession to the principality, he openly manifested. But, as he expected that something effectual towards a general and legal establishment of religion would be the fruit of so many diets, conferences, and negotiations, he did not, at first, attempt any public innovation in his dominions. Finding all these issue in nothing, he thought himself called, at length, to countenance by his authority the system which he approved of, and to gratify the wishes of his subjects, who, by their intercourse with the protestant states, had almost universally imbibed their opinions. As the warmth and impetuosity which accompanied the spirit of reformation in its first efTorts had somewhat abated, this change was made with great order and regularity ; the ancient rites were abolished, and new forms introduced, without any acts of violence, or symptom of discontent. Though Frederick adopted the religious system of the protestants, he imitated the example of Maurice, and did not accede to the league of Smalkalde.^^ A few weeks before this revolution in the palatinate, the general council was opened with the accustomed solemnities at Trent. The eyes of the catholic states were turned with much expectation towards an assembly, which all had con- sidered as capable of applying an eff'ectual remedy for the disorders of the church when they first broke out, though many were afraid that it was now too late to hope for great "» Sleid. p. 352. Seek. lib. iii. p. 567. « Ibid. p. 356. Ibid. lib. iii. p. 616. 140 THE COUNCIL OF TRENT: [bookvit. benefits from it, when the malady, by bemg siiflPered to increase during twenty-eight years, had become inveterate and grown to such extreme violence. The pope, by his last bull of convocation, had appointed the first meeting to be held in March. But his views and those of the emperor were so different, that almost the whole year was spent in negotiations. Charles, who foresaw that the rigorous decrees of the council against the protestants would soon drive them, in self-defence as well as from resentment, to some desperate extreme, laboured to put ofi" its meeting until his warhke preparations were so far advanced, that he might be in a condition to second its decisions by the force of his arms. The pope, who had early sent to Trent the legates who were to preside in his name, knowing to what contempt it would expose his authority, and what suspicions it would beget of his intentions, if the fathers of the council should remain in a state of inactivity, when tlie church was in such danger as to require their immediate and vigorous interposition, insisted either upon translating the council to some city in Italy, or upon suspending alto- gether its proceedings at that juncture, or upon authorizing it to begin its deliberations immediately. The emperor rejected the two former expedients as equally offensive to the Germans of every denomination ; but, finding it impos- sible to elude the latter, he proposed that the council should begin with reforming the disorders in the church, before it proceeded to examine or define articles of faith. This was the very thing which the court of Rome dreaded most, and which had prompted it to employ so many artifices in order to prevent the meeting of such a dangerous judicatory. Paul, thougli more conq)liant than some of his predecessors with regard to calling a coimcil, was no less jealous than they had been of its jurisdiction, and saw what matter of triunipli such a method of ])roceeding would afford the heretics. He apprehended consequences not only humbling but fatal to the papal see, if the council came to consider BOOK VII.] ITS PROCEEDINGS 141 an inquest into abuses as their only business ; or if inferior prelates were allowed to gratify their own envy and peevishness by prescribing rules to those who were exalted above them in dignity and power. Without listening, therefore, to this insidious proposal of the emperor, he instructed his legates to open the coiuicil. The first session was spent in matters of form. In a subsequent one, it was agreed that the framing a confession of faith, wherein should be contained all the articles which the church required its members to believe, ought to be the first and principal business of the council ; but that, at the same time, due attention should be given to what was necessary towards the reformation of manners and disci- pline. From this first symptom of the spirit with which the council was animated, from the high tone of authority which the legates who presided in it assumed, and from the implicit deference with which most of the members followed their directions, the protestants conjectured with ease what decisions they might expect. It astonished them, however, to see forty prelates (for no greater number was yet assembled) assume authority as representatives of the universal church, and proceed to determine the most important points of doctrine in its name. Sensible of this indecency, as well as of the ridicule with which it might be attended, the council advanced slowly in its dehbera- tions, and all its proceedings were for some time languishing and feeble.^" As soon as the confederates of Smalkalde received information of the opening of the council, they published a long manifesto, containing a renewal of their protest against its meeting, together with the reasons which induced them to decline its jurisdiction.^' The pope and emperor, on their part, were so little solicitous to quicken or add vigour to its operations, as plainly discovered that some object of greater importance occupied and interested them. ^» F. Paul, p. 120, &c. Pallav. p. 180, &c. " Seek. Hb. iii. p. G02, &c. 142 APPKEHEXSIONS OF THE PROTESTANTS. fBOOK vii. The protestaiits were not inattentive or unconcerned spectators of the motions of the sovereign pontiff and of Charles, and they entertained every day more violent suspicions of their intentions, in consequence of intelligence received from different quarters of the machinations carrying on against them. The king of England informed them, that the emperor, having long resolved to exterminate their opinions, "would not fail to employ this interval of tranquil- lity which he now enjoyed, as the most favourable juncture for carrying his design into execution. The merchants of Augsburg, wdiich was at that time a city of extensive trade, received advice, by means of their correspondents in Italy, among whom were some who secretly favoured the protestant cause," that a dangerous confederacy against it was forming betw^een the pope and emperor. In confirmation of this, they heard from the Low Countries that Charles had issued orders, though with every precaution which could keep the measure concealed, for raising troops both there and in other parts of his dominions. Such a variety of information, corroborating all that their own jealousy or observation led them to apprehend, left the protestants little reason to doubt of the emperor's hostile intentions. Under this impression, the deputies of the confederates of Smalkalde assembled at Francfort, and, by communicating their intelligence and sentiments to each other, reciprocally heightened their sense of the impending danger. But their union was not such as their situation required, or the preparations of their enemies rendered necessary. Their league had now subsisted ten years. Among so many members, whose territories were intermingled with each other, and who, according to the custom of Germany, had created an infinite variety of mutual rights and claims by intermarriages, alliances, and contracts of different kinds, subjects of jealousy and discord had unavoidably arisen. Some of the confe- derates, being connected with the duke of Brunswick, were " Seek. lib. iii. p. 579. BOOKVii.] THEIR DELIBERATIONS. 143 highly disgusted with the landgrave, on account of the rigour with which he had treated that rash and unfortunate prince. Others taxed the elector of Saxony and landgrave, the heads of the league, with having involved the members in unnecessary and exorbitant expenses by their profuseness or want of economy. The views, likewise, and temper of those two princes, who by their superior power and authority influenced and directed the whole body, being extremely different, rendered all its motions languid, at a time when the utmost vigour and despatch were requisite. The land- grave, of a violent and enterprising temper, but not forgetful, amidst his zeal for religion, of the usual maxim.s of human policy, insisted that, as the danger which threatened them was manifest and unavoidable, they should have recourse to the most effectual expedient for securing their own safety, by courting the protection of the kings of France and England, or by joining in alliance with the protestant cantons of Switzerland, from whom they might expect such powerful and present assistance as their situation demanded. The elector, on the other hand, with the most upright intentions of any prince in that age, and with talents which might have qualified him abundantly for the administration of govern- ment in any tranquil period, was possessed wdth such superstitious veneration for all the parts of the Lutheran system, and such bigoted attachment to all its tenets, as made him averse to an union with those who diflPered from him in any article of faith, and rendered him very incapable of undertaking its defence in times of difficulty and danger. He seemed to think that the concerns of religion were to be regulated by principles and maxims totally different from those which apply to the common affairs of life ; and being swayed too much by the opinions of Luther, who was not only a stranger to the rules of political conduct, but despised them, he often discovered an uncom- plying spirit that proved of the greatest detriment to the cause which he wished to support. Influenced, on this 144 DISSENSIONS A:\I0NGST the PROTESTAXTS. [BOOKYir. occasion, by the severe and rigid notions of that reformer, he refused to enter into any confederacy with Francis, because he was a persecutor of the truth ; or to sohcit the friendship of Henry, because he was no less impious and profane than the pope liimself, or even to join in alhance with the Swiss, because they differed from the Germans in several essential articles of faith. This dissension, about a point of such consequence, produced its natural effects. Each secretly censured and reproached the other. The landgrave consi- dered the elector as fettered by narrow prejudices, un- worthy of a prince called to act a chief part in a scene of such importance. The elector suspected the landgrave of loose principles and ambitious views, which corresponded ill with the sacred cause wherein they were engaged. But though the elector's scruples prevented their timely appli- cation for foreign aid ; and the jealousy or discontent of the other princes defeated a proposal for renewing their original confederacy, the term during which it Avas to continue in force being on the point of expiring ; yet the sense of their common danger induced them to agree with regard to other points, particularly that they would never acknowledge the assembly of Trent as a laAvful council, nor suffer the arch- bishop of Cologne to be oppressed on account of the steps which he had taken towards the reformation of his diocese. ^^ The landgrave, about this time, desirous of penetrating to the bottom of the emperor's intentions, wrote to Gran- velle, whom he knew to be thoroughly acquainted with all his master's schemes, informing him of the several i)ar- ticulars which raised the sus})icions of the protcstants, and begging an explicit declaration of what they had to fear or to hope. Granvelle, in return, assured them that the intel- ligence which they had received of the emperor's military j)r('parations was exaggerated, and all their suspicions destitute of foundation ; that though, in order to guard his frontiers against any insult of the French or English, he " Seek. lib. iii. pp. 5GG, 570, G13. SlciJ. p. 355. BOOKVii.] THE CONFERENCE ABRUPTLY TERMINATED. 145 liad commanded a small body of men to be raised in the Low Countries, he was as solicitous as ever to maintain tranquillity in Germany. '^^ But the emperor's actions did not correspond with these professions of his minister. For, instead of appointing men of known moderation and a pacific temper to appear in defence of the catholic doctrines at the conference which had been agreed on, he made choice of fierce bigots, attached to their own system with a blind obstinacy, that rendered all hope of a reconcilement desperate. Malvcnda, a Spanish divine, who took upon him the conduct of the debate on the part of the catholics, managed it with all the subtle dexterity of a scholastic metaphysician, more studious to perplex his adversaries than to convince them, and more intent on palUating error than on discovering truth. The protestants, filled with indignation, as well at his sophistry as at some regulations which the emperor endeavoured to impose on the disputants, broke off the conference abruptly, being now fully convinced that, in all his late measures, the emperor could have no other view than to amuse them, and to gain time for ripening his own schemes/^ " Sleid. p. 356. ''' Ibid. p. 358. Seolc. lib. iii. p. G20. VOL. II. THE HISTORY OF THE REIGN EMPEEOE CIIAELES Y. BOOK VIII. Death of Lullici- — Hostility of the Emperor towards the Protestants — His Alliances — Diet at Ratisbon — The Emperor's Treaty with the Pope— The Protestants prepare for Defence, and seek for Aid — They lose by Inaction — Tlieir first Operations — The Emperor declines Battle — Maurice of Saxony, his Treachery— Separation of the Confederate Army — Rigorous Conduct of the Emperor to those who yielded — Contest between Maurice of Saxony and the Elector — The Pope recals his Troops — Conspiracy in Genoa — Fiesco, Count of Lavagua. [1546.] While appearances of clanger daily increased, and the tempest whicli had been so long a gathering was ready to break forth in all its violence against the protestant church, Lntlicr was saved, by a seasonable death, from feeling or beholding its destructive rage. Having gone, though in a declining state of health, and during a rigorous season, to his native city of Eyslcbcn, in order to compose, by his authority, a dissension among the counts of ]\Ians- field, he was seized with a violent inflammation in his stomach, which, in a few days, put an end to liis life, in the sixty-third year of his age. As he was raised np by Providence to be the author of one of the greatest and most interesting revolutions recorded in history, there is not any person, perhaps, whose character has been drawn BooKvni.] LUTHER'S DEATH AND CHARACTER. 147 with such opposite colours. In his own age, one party, struck with horror, and inflamed with rage, when they saw with what a daring hand he overturned everything which they hekl to he sacred, or vahied as beneficial, imputed to him not only all the defects and vices of a man, but the qualities of a demon. The other, warmed with the admira- tion and gratitude which they thought he merited as the restorer of light and liberty to the Christian church, ascribed to him perfections above the condition of humanity, and viewed all his actions with a veneration bordering on that which should be paid only to those who are guided by the immediate inspiration of heaven. It is his own conduct, not the undistinguishing censure or the exaggerated praise of his contemporaries, that ought to regulate the opinions of the present age concerning him. Zeal for what he regarded as truth, undaunted intrepidity to maintain his own system, abilities, both natural and acquired, to defend his principles, and unwearied industry in propagating them, are virtues which shine so conspicuously in every part of his behaviour, that even his enemies must allow him to have possessed them in an eminent degree. To these may be added, with equal justice, such purity and even austerity of manners, as became one who assumed the character of a reformer ; such sanctity of life as suited the doctrine which he delivered ; and such perfect disinterestedness as affords no slight presumption of his sincerity. Superior to all selfish considerations, a stranger to the elegancies of life, and despising its pleasures, he left the honours and emolu- ments of the church to his disciples, remaining satisfied himself in his original state of professor in the university, and pastor of the town of Wittemberg, with the moderate appointments annexed to these offices. His extraordinary qualities were alloyed with no inconsiderable mixture of human frailty and human passions. These, however, were of such a nature, that they cannot be imputed to malevo- lence or corruption of heart, but seem to have taken their l2 148 LUTHER'S CHARACTER. [bookviii. rise from the same source witli many of his virtues. His mind, forcible and vehement in all its operations, roused by- great objects, or agitated by violent passions, broke out, on many occasions, with an impetuosity which astonishes men of feebler spirits, or such as are placed in a more tranquil situation. By carrying some praiseworthy dispositions to excess, he bordered sometimes on what was culpable, and was often betrayed into actions which exposed him to censure. His confidence that his own opinions were w^ell founded, approached to arrogance ; his courage in asserting them, to rashness ; his firumess in adhering to them, to obstinacy; and his zeal in confuting his adversaries, to rage and scurrility. Accustomed himself to consider every- thing as subordinate to truth, he expected the same deference for it from other men ; and, without making any allowances for their timidity or prejudices, he poured forth against such as disappointed him in this particular, a torrent of invective mingled with contempt. Regardless of any distinction of rank or character, when his doctrines were attacked, he chastised all his adversaries indiscriminately, with the same rough hand ; neither the royal dignity of Henrv VHI., nor the eminent learniufi; and abilities of Erasmus, screened them from the same gross abuse with which he treated Tetzel or Eckius. But these indecencies of which Luther was guilty, must not l)e im])utcd wholly to the violence of his temper. They ought to be charged in part on the manners of the age. Among a rude people, unacquainted with those maxims, which, by putting continual restraint on the passions of individuals, have polished society, and rendered it agreeable, disputes of every kind were man.'iged with heat, and strong emotions were uttered in their natural lancruao-e, without reserve or delicacy. At the same time, the works of learned men were all composed in Latin, and they were not only authorized, by the exanq)le of eminent writers in that language, to use their antagonists with the most illiberal BOOK VIII.] LUTHER'S CHATtACTER. 149 scurrility ; but, in a dead tougue, indecencies of every kind appear less shocking than in a living language, whose idioms and phrases seem gross, because they are fanuliar. In passing judgment upon the characters of men, we ought to try them by the principles and maxims of their own age, not by those of another. Eor, although virtue and vice are at all times the same, manners and customs vary continually. Some parts of Luther's behaviour, which to us appear most culpable, gave no disgust to his contem- poraries. It was even by some of those qualities, wdiich we are now apt to blame, that he was fitted for accomplishing the great work which he undertook. To rouse mankind, when sunk in ignorance or superstition, and to encounter the rage of bigotry, armed with power, required the utmost vehemence of zeal, as well as a temper daring to excess. A gentle call would neither have reached, nor have excited those to whom it was addressed. A spirit more amiable, but less vigorous than Luther's, would have shrunk back from the dangers which he braved and surmounted. To- wards the close of Luther's life, though without any per- ceptible diminution of his zeal or abilities, the infirmities of his temper increased upon him, so that he grew daily more peevish, more irascible, and more impatient of contradic- tion. Having lived to be a witness of his own amazing success ; to see a great part of Europe embrace his doc- trines ; and to shake the foundation of the papal throne, before which the mightiest monarchs had trembled, he dis- covered, on some occasions, symptoms of vanity and self- applause. He must have been, indeed, more than man, if, upon contemplating all that he actually accomplished, he had never felt any sentiment of this kind rising in his breast.^ ^ A remarkable instance of tliis, as siderable, lie thought it necessary to well as of a certain singularity and make a testament, but scorned to elevation of sentiment, is found in his frame it with the usual legal formali- last will. Though the effects which tics. Notus sum, says he, in ccelo, in he had to bequeath were very iucou- terra, et inferno : et auctoritatcai ad 150 CH^VELES'S AETFUL E^■DEA YOURS [bookviii. Some time before his death, he felt his strength declin- ing, his constitution being worn out by a prodigious multi- plicity of business, added to the labour of discharging his ministerial function with unremitting diligence, to the fatigue of constant study, besides the composition of works as voluminous as if he had enjoyed uninterrupted leisure and retirement. His natural intrepidity did not forsake him at the approach of death ; his last conversation with his friends was concerning the happiness reserved for good men in a future life, of which he spoke with the fervour and delight natural to one who expected and wished to enter soon upon the enjoyment of it.^ Tlie account of his death filled the Roman catholic party with excessive as w'ell as indecent joy, and damped the spirits of all his followers ; neither party sufficiently considering that his doctrines were now^ so firmly rooted, as to be in a condition to flourish independent of the hand wdiich had first planted them. His funeral was celebrated by order of the elector of Saxony Avith extraordinary pomp. He left several children by his Avife, Catherine a Boria, who survived him. Towards the end of the last century, there were in Saxony some of his descendants in decent and honourable stations.^ The emperor meanwhile pursued the plan of dissimula- tion with which he had set out, employing every art to amuse the protestants, and to qiuct their fears and jealousies. For this purpose, he contrived to have an interview with the landgrave of Hesse, the most active of all the confederates, and the most suspicious of his designs. To him he made such warm professions of his concern hoc suiTicienlcm !i;ibco, ut, niilii soli cKTmoimm odio. Qiiidni, iffihir, ad crcdaUir, cum Dcus inilii, lioiiiiiii licet dispositionem lianc, in re. oxiujua, siif- daniiiatjili, et miseiabili pcccafori, ex flciat, si adsit maims mcic tcs-timonium, patcina miscricordiu Evangclium filii ct dici possit, llrec scripsil. D. Mai- siii crcdidcrif, dedcrilque ut in eo linus Luther, notarius Dei, ct testis verax et lidclis fucrun, ita ut multi in Evangelii ejus. Seek. HI), iii. p. 051. muudo illud per me aceeperiiil, et mc - SIcid. p. 'M)-2. Seek. lib. iii. p. pro doctore veritalis ai,Miovciiut, spreto G32, &c. oanno papa, caisaris, rej^uin, prinei- •* ll)id. p. i'>')\. pum et saccrdotum, immo omnium BOOK VIII.] TO DECEIVE THE PROTESTANTS. 151 for the happiness of Germany, and of his aversion to all violent measures ; he denied in such exj)ress terms his having entered into any league, or having begun any mili- tary preparations which should give any just cause of alarm to the protestants, as seem to have dispelled all the land- grave's doubts and apprehensions, and sent him away fully satisfied of his pacific intentions. This artifice was of great advantage, and eifectually answered the purpose for wdiich it was employed. The landgrave, upon his leaving Spires, where he had been admitted to this interview, went to Worms, where the Smalkaldic confederates were assembled, and gave them such a flattering representation of the em- peror's favourable disposition towards them, that they, who were too apt, as well from the temper of the German nation, as from the genius of all great associations or bodies of men, to be slow and dilatory, and undecisive in their delibera- tions, thought there was no necessity of taking any imme- diate measures against danger, which appeared to be distant or imaginary.^ Such events, however, soon occurred as staggered the credit which the protestants had given to the emperor's declarations. The council of Trent, though still composed of a small number of Italian and Spanish prelates, without a single deputy from many of the kingdoms which it assumed a right of binding by its decrees, being ashamed of its long inactivity, proceeded now to settle articles of the greatest importance. Having begun wath examining the first and chief point in controversy between the church of Rome and the reformers, concerning the rule which should be held as supreme and decisive in matters of faith, the council, by its infallible authority, determined, " That the books to which the designation of apocryphal hath been given, are of equal authority with those which were received by the Jews and primitive Christians into the sacred canon; that the traditions handed down from the apostolic age, < Slekl. Hist. pp. 367, 373. 152 ARCHBISHOP OF COLOGNE EXCOMMUNICATED, [book viii. and preserved in the church, are entitled to as much regard as the doctrines and precepts which the inspired authors have committed to writing ; that the Latin translation of the scriptures, made or revised by St. Jerome, and known by the name of the Vulgate translation, should be read in churches, and appealed to in the schools as authentic and canonical." Against all who disclaimed the truth of these tenets, anathemas were denounced in the name and by the authority of the Holy Ghost. The decision of these points, which undermined the main foundation of the Lutheran system, w^as a plain w-arning to the protestants wdiat judgment they might expect when the council should have leisure to take into consideration the particular and subor- dinate articles of their creed.^ This discovery of the council's readiness to condemn the opinions of the protestants was soon followed by a striking instance of the pope's resolution to punish such as embraced them. The appeal of the canons of Cologne against their archbishop having been carried to Home, Paul eagerly seized on that opportunity, both of displaying the extent of his own authority, and of teaching the German eccle- siastics the dano;er of revoltini^ from the established church. As no person appeared in behalf of the archbishop, he w^as held to be convicted of the crime of heresy, and a papal bull was issued, depriving him of his ecclesiastical dignity, inflicting on him the sentence of exconnnunication, and absolving his subjects from the oath of allegiance which they had taken to him as their civil superior. The counte- nance which he had given to the Lutheran heresy was the only crime imputed to him, as well as the only reason assigned to justify the extraordinary severity of this decree. The protestants could hardly believe that Paul., how zealous soever he might be to defend the established system, or to humble those who invaded it, would have ventured to proceed to such extremities against a prince and elector of * F. Faul, p. lil. Pallavic. p. 206. BOOK VIII.] COMBINATION AGAINST THE PROTESTANTS. 153 the empire, without having previously secured such powerful protection as would render his censure something more than an impotent and despicable sally of resentment. They were, of course, deeply alarmed at this sentence against the archbishop, considering it as a sure indication of the male- volent intentions not only of the pope, but of the emperor, against the whole party. "^ Upon this fresh revival of their fears, with such violence as is natural to men roused from a false security, and conscious of their having been deceived, Charles saw that now it became necessary to throw aside the mask, and to declare openly what part he determined to act. By a long series of artifice and fallacy, he had gained so much time that his measures, though not altogether ripe for execution, were in great forwardness. The pope, by his proceedings against the elector of Cologne, as well as by the decree of the council, had precipitated matters into such a situation, as rendered a breach between the emperor and the pro- testants almost unavoidable. Charles had, therefore, no choice left him, but either to take part with them in over- turning what the see of Rome had determined, or to support the authority of the church openly, by force of arms. Nor did the pope think it enough to have brought the emperor under a necessity of acting ; he pressed him to begin his operations immediately, and to carry them on with such vigour as could not fail of securing success. Transported by his zeal against heresy, Paul forgot all the prudent and cautious maxims of the papal see, with regard to the danger of extending the imperial authority beyond due bounds; and in order to crush the Lutherans, he was willing to contribute towards raising up a master that might one day prove formidable to himself as well as to the rest of Italy. But, besides the certain expectation of assistance from the pope, Charles was now secure from any danger of ^ Sleid. p. 354. F. Paul, p. 155. Pallavic. p. 224. 154 THE EMPEROR'S ALLIANCES. [bookviii. interruption to his designs by the Turkish arms. His negotiations at the Porte, which he had carried on with great assiduity since the peace of Crespy, were on the point of being terminated in such a manner as he desired. Solyman, partly in comphance with the French king, who, in order to avoid the disagreeable obligation of joining the emperor against his ancient ally, laboured with great zeal to bring about an accommodation between them ; and partly from its being necessary to turn his arms towards the East, where the Persians threatened to invade his dominions, consented without difficulty to a truce for five years. The chief article of it was, " That each should retain possession of what he now held in Hungary; and Ferdinand, as a sacrifice to the pride of the sultan, submitted to pay an annual tribute of fifty thousand crowns." ^ But it was upon the aid and concurrence of the Germans themselves that the emperor relied with the greatest confi- dence. The Germanic body, he knew, was of such vast strength, as to be invincible if it were united, and that it was only by employing its own force that he could hope to subdue it. Happily for him, the union of the several members in this great system was so feeble, the whole frame was so loosely compacted, and its different parts tended so violently to\vards separation from each other, that it was almost impossible for it, on any imi)ortant emergence, to join in a general or vigorous effort. In the present juncture, the sources of discord were as many and as various as had been known on any occasion. The Roman catholics, animated with zeal in defence of their religion, proportional to the fierceness with which it had been attacked, were eager to second any attempt to humble those innovators, who had oveiturued it in many provinces, and endangered it in more. John and Albert of Brandenburg, as well as several other princes, incensed at the haughtiness and rigour with which the duke of Brunswick had been treated by the " Ibtuaiilialiii llisl. llmig. p. 180. Mem. de llibicr, lorn. i. p. 582. BOOK VIII.] DIET AT RATISBON. 155 confederates of Smalkaldc, were impatient to rescue him, and to be revenged on them. Charles observed, witli satisfaction, the working of those passions in their minds, and counting on them as sure auxiharies whenever he should think it proper to act, he found it, in the meantime, more necessary to moderate than to inflame their rage. Such was the situation of affairs, such the discernment with whicli the emperor foresaw and provided for every event, when the diet of the empire met at Ratisbon. Many of the Roman cathohc members appeared there in person, but most of the confederates of Smalkalde, under pretence of being unable to bear the expense occasioned by the late unnecessary frequency of such assemblies, sent only deputies. Their jealousy of the emperor, together with an apprehension that violence might, perhaps, be employed, in order to force their approbation of what he should propose in the diet, was the true cause of their absence. The speech with Avhich the emperor opened the diet was extremely artful. After professing, in common form, his regard for the prosperity of the Germanic body, and declaring that, in order to bestow his whole attention upon the reestablish- ment of its order and tranquillity, he had at present aban- doned all other cares, rejected the most pressing solicitations of his other subjects to reside among them, and postponed affairs of the greatest importance ; he took notice, with some disapprobation, that his disinterested example had not been imitated : manv members of chief consideration having neglected to attend an assembly to which he had repaired with such manifest inconvenience to himself. He then mentioned their unhappy dissensions about religion ; lamented the ill success of his past endeavours to compose them ; complained of the abrupt dissolution of the late conference, and craved their advice with regard to the best and most effectual method of restoring union to the churches of Germany, together with that happy agreement in articles of faith, which their ancestors had found to be of no less 156 DIET AT EATISBON. [bookviii. advantage to their civil interest, than becoming their Christian profession. By this gracious and popular method of consulting the members of the diet, rather than of obtruding upon them any opinion of his own, besides the appearance of great moderation, and the merit of paying much respect to their judgment, the emperor dexterously avoided discovering his own sentiments, and reserved to himself, as his only part, that of carrying into execution what they should recommend. Nor was he less secure of such a decision as he wished to obtain, by referring it wholly to themselves. The Roman catholic members, prompted by their own zeal, or prepared by his intrigues, joined immediately in representing that the authority of the council now met at Trent ought to be supreme in all matters of controversy; that all Christians should submit to its decrees as the infallible rule of their faith ; and therefore they besought him to exert the power with which he was invested by the Almighty, in protecting that assembly, and in com))elling the protestants to acquiesce in its determinations. The protestants, on the other hand, presented a raemoiial, in wdiich, after repeating their objections to the council of Trent, they proposed, as the only cfi'ectual method of deciding the points in dispute, that either a free general council should be assembled in Germany, or a national council of the empire should be called, or a select number of divines should be appointed out of each party to examine and define articles of faith. They mentioned the recesses of several diets favourable to tliis proposition, and which had afforded them the prospect of terminating all their differences in this amicable manner; they now conjured the emperor not to depart from his former plan, and, by offering violence to their consciences, to bring calamities upon Germany, the very thought of M'hich must fill every lover of his country with horror. The em])eror, receiving this piiper with a contemptuous smile, paid no further regard to it. Having already taken BOOKViii.] THE PROTESTANTS ALARMED. 157 his final resolution, and perceiving that nothing but force could compel them to acquiesce in it, he despatched the cardinal of Trent to Rome, in order to conclude an alhance ^Yitll the pope, the terms of which were already agreed on ; he commanded a body of troops, levied on purpose in the Low Countries, to advance towards Germany; he gave commissions to several officers for raising men in different parts of the empire; he warned John and Albert of Brandenburg, that now was the proper time of exerting themselves in order to rescue their ally, Henry of Bruns- wick, from captivity.^ All these things could not be transacted without the observation and knowledge of the protestants. The secret was now in many hands ; under whatever veil the emperor still affected to conceal his designs, his officers kept no such mysterious reserve ; and his alHes and subjects spoke out his mtentions plainly. Alarmed with reports of this kind from every quarter, as well as with the preparation for war which they could not but observe, the deputies of the confederates demanded audience of the emperor, and, in the name of their masters, required to know whether these military preparations were carried on by his command, and for what end, and against what enemy ? To a question i)ut in such a tone, and at a time when facts were become too notorious to be denied, it w^as necessary to give an explicit answer. Charles owned the orders which he had issued, and, professing his purpose not to molest on account of religion those who should act as dutiful subjects, declared that he had nothing in view but to maintain the rights and prerogatives of the imperial dignity, and, by punishing some factious members, to preserve the ancient constitution of the empire from being impaired or dissolved by their irregular and licentious conduct. Though the emperor did not name the persons whom he charged with such high crimes, and destined to be the objects of his vengeance, it 8 Sleid. p. 374. Seek. lib. iii. p. 658. 158 THE E:MPER0R'S TREATY WITH THE POPE, [bookviii. was obvious that he had the elector of Saxony and landgrave of Hesse in view. Their deputies, considering what he had said as a plain declaration of his hostile intentions, immediately retired from Eatisbon.^ The cardinal of Trent found it no difficult matter to treat with the pope, who, having at length brought the emperor to adopt that plan which he had long recommended, assented with eagerness to every article that he proposed. The league was signed a few days after the cardinal's arrival at Rome. The pernicious heresies which abounded in Germany, the obstinacy of the protestants in rejecting the holy council assembled at Trent, and the necessity of maintaining sound doctrine, together with good order, in the church, are mentioned as the motives of this union between the contracting parties. In order to check the growth of these evils, and to punish such as had impiously contributed to spread them, the emperor, having long and witliout success made trial of gentler remedies, engaged instantly to take the field with a sufficient army, that he might compel all who disowned the council, or had apostatized from the religion of their forefathers, to return to the bosom of the church, and submit with due obedience to the holy see. He likewise bound himself not to conclude a peace with them during six months without the pope's consent, nor without assigning him his share in any conquests which should be made upon them ; and that, even after this period, he should not agree to any accommodation which might be detrimental to the church, or to the interest of religion. On his part, the pope stipulated to deposit a large sum in the bank of Venice towards defraying the expense of the war; to maintain, at his own charge, during the space of six months, twelve thousand foot and five hundred horse ; to grant the emperor for one year half of the ecclesiastical reveiuies throughout Spain ; to authorize him, by a bull, to alienate as nnich of the lands belonging « Sluid. p. 370. BOOKVin.] HE STILL CLOAKS HIS EEAL DESIGNS. 159 to religious bouses in that country as would amount to the sum of five hundred thousand crowns ; and to employ not only spiritual censures, but military force, against any prince who should attempt to interrupt or defeat the execution of this treaty/" Notwithstanding the explicit terms in which the extirpa- tion of heresy was declared to be the object of the war wdiich was to follow upon this treaty, Charles still endea- voured to persuade the Germans that he had no design to abridge their religious liberty, but that he aimed only at vindicating his own authority, and repressing the insolence of such as had encroached upon it. With this view, he wrote circular letters in the same strain with his answer to the deputies at Ratisbon, to most of the free cities, and to several of the princes who had embraced the protestant doctrines. In these he complained loudly, but in general terms, of the contempt into which the imperial dignity had fallen, and of the presumptuous as well as disorderly behaviour of some members of the empire. He declared that he now took arms, not in a religious, but in a civil quarrel ; not to oppress any who continued to behave as quiet and dutiful subjects, but to humble the arrogance of such as had thrown off all sense of that subordination in which they were placed under him as head of the Ger- manic body. Gross as this deception was, and manifest as it might have appeared to all who considered the emperor's conduct with attention, it became necessary for him to make trial of its effect ; and such was the confidence and dexterity with w^iich he employed it, that he derived the most solid advantasfes from this artifice. If he had avowed at once an intention of overturning the protestant church, and of reducing all Germany under its former state of subjection to the papal see, none of the cities or princes who had embraced the new opinions could have remained neutral after such a declaration, far less could '« Sleid. p. 38L Pallav. p. 255. Du Mont, Corps Diplom. p. IL 160 THE POPE DIVULGES CHAKLES'S PLAN. [bookviu; tliey have ventured to assist the emperor in such an enter- prise. Whereas by conceaUiig, and even disclaiming, any intention of that kind, he not only saved himself from the danger of being overwhelmed by a general confederacy of all the protestant states, but he furnished the timid with an excuse for continuing inactive, and the designing or interested with a pretext for joining him, without exposing themselves to the infamy of abandoning their ow^n prin- ciples, or taking part openly in suppressing them. At the same time, the emperor well knew, that if, by their assist- ance, he were enabled to break the power of the elector of Saxony and the landgrave, he might afterwards prescribe what terms he pleased to the feeble remains of a party without union, and destitute of leaders, who would then regret, too late, their mistaken confidence in him, and their inconsiderate desertion of their associates. The pope, by a sudden and unforeseen display of his zeal, had w^ll-nigh disconcerted this plan, which the emperor had formed with so much care and art. Proud of having been the author of such a formidable league against the Lutheran heresy, and happy in thinking that the glory of extirpating it was reserved for his pontificate, he published the articles of his treaty with the emperor, in order to demonstrate the pious intention of their confederacy, as well as to display his own zeal, which prompted him to make such extraordinary efforts for maintaining the faith in its purity. Not satisfied with this, he soon after issued a bull, containing most liberal promises of indulgence to all who should engage in this holy enterprise, together with w^arm exhortations to such as could not bear a part in it themselves, to increase the fervour of their prayers, and the severity of their mortifications, that they might draw down the blessing of heaven upon those who undertook it." Nor was it zeal alone which pushed the pope to make declara- tions so inconsislent with the account which the emperor " l)u jMoni, Corps Diploiu. BOOK VIII.] PROTESTANTS' DEFENSIVE PREPARATIONS. 161 himself gave of his motives for taking arms. He was much scandahzed at Charles's dissimulation in such a cause ; at his seeming to be ashamed of owning his zeal for the church, and at his endeavours to make that pass for a political contest, which he ought to have gloried in as a war that had no other object than the defence of religion. With as much solicitude, therefore, as the emperor laboured to disguise the purpose of the confederacy, did the popo endeavour to publish their real plan, in order that they might come at once to an open rupture with the protestants, that all hopes of reconcilement might be cut off, and that Charles might be under fewer temptations, and have it less in his power than at present to betray the interests of the church by any accommodation beneficial to himself.'^ The emperor, though not a little offended at the pope's indiscretion or malice in making this discovery, continued boldly to pursue his own plan, and to assert his intentions to be no other than what he had originally avowed. Several of the protestant states, whom he had previously gained, thought themselves justified, in some measure, by his declaration, for abandoning their associates, and even for giving assistance to him. But these artifices did not impose on the greater and sounder part of the protestant confederates. They clearly perceived it to be against the reformed religion that the emperor had taken arms, and that not only the suppression of it, but the extinction of the German liberties, would be the certain consequence of his obtaining such an entire superiority as would enable him to execute his schemes in their full extent. They determined, therefore, to prepare for their own defence, and neither to renounce those reli- gious truths, to the knowledge of which they had attained by means so wonderful, nor to abandon those civil rights which had been transmitted to them by their ancestors. In order to give the necessary directions for this purpose, >2 E. Paul, p. ISS. Thuau. Hist. lib. i. p. 61. VOL. II. M 1G2 PROTESTANTS' DEFENSIATl PEEPARATIOXS [bookviii. their deputies met at Ulm, soon after their abrupt departure from Ratisbon. Their deliberations were now conducted with such vigour and unanimity, as the imminent danger which threatened them required. The contingent of troops, which each of the confederates was to furnish, having been fixed by the original treaty of union, orders were given for bringing them immediately into the field. Being sensible, at last, that, through the narrow prejudices of some of their members, and the imprudent security of others, they had neglected too long to strengthen themselves by foreign alliances, they now applied with great earnestness to the Venetians and Swiss. To the Venetians they represented the emperor's inten- tion of overturning the present system of Germany, and of raising himself to absolute power in that country by means of foreign force furnished by the pope ; they warned them how fatal this event would prove to the liberties of Italy, and that by suffering Charles to acquire unlimited authority in the one country, they would soon feel his dominion to be no less despotic in the other; they besought them, therefore, not to grant a passage through their territories to those troops which ought to be treated as common enemies, because by subduing Germany, they prepared chains for the rest of Europe. These reflections had not escaped the sagacity of those wise republicans. They had communi- cated their sentiments to the pope, and had endeavoured to divert him from an alliance, which tended to render irresistible the power of a potentate, whose ambition he already knew to be boundless. But they had found Paul so eager in the prosecution of his own plan, that he dis- regarded all their remonstrances'.'^ This attempt to alarm tlie ])()pe having proved unsuccessful, they declined doing anytliiiig more towards preventing the dangers which they foresaw ; and in return to the application from the con- federates of Smalkalde, they informed them that they coidd '■' Aclrifuil, Tsloria do' suoi Tempi, lil). v. \). 332. BOOK viii.] AND SOLICITATIONS FOR AID. 163 not obstruct the march of the pope's troops through an open country, but by levying an army strong enough to face them in the field; and that this would draw upon themselves the whole weight of his as well as of the emperor's indignation. For the same reason, they declined lending a sum of money, which the elector of Saxony and landgrave proposed to borrow of them, towards carrying on the war.'* The demands of the confederates upon the Swiss were not confined to the obstructing of the entrance of foreigners into Germany; they required of them, as the nearest neigh- bours and closest allies of the empire, to interpose, with their wonted vigour, for the preservation of its liberties, and not to stand as inactive spectators, while their brethren were oppressed and enslaved. But with whatever zeal some of the cantons might have been disposed to act when the cause of the reformation was in danger, the Helvetic body was so divided with regard to religion, as to render it unsafe for the protestants to take any step without con- sulting their catholic associates; and among them the emissaries of the pope and the emperor had such influence, that a resolution of maintaining an exact neutrality between the contending parties was the utmost which could be procured.'^ Being disappointed in both these applications, the pro- testants, not long after, had recourse to the kings of France and England ; the approach of danger either overcoming the elector of Saxony's scruples, or obliging him to yield to the importunities of his associates. The situation of the two monarchs flattered them with hopes of success. Though hostilities between them had continued for some time after the peace of Crespy, they became weary at last of a war, attended with no glory or advantage to either, and had " Sleid. p. 381, Paruta, Istor. Scardium, vol. ii. p. 547. Veaet. torn. iv. p. 180. Lambertus '^ Sleid. p. 392. Hortensius de Bello Germanico, apud M 2 164 PROTESTANTS TAKE THE FIELD [BOOKvm. lately terminated all their differences by a peace concluded at Campe near Ardres. Francis having with great diffi- culty procured his allies, the Scots, to be included in the treaty, in return for that concession he engaged to pay a great sum, which Henry demanded as due to him on several accounts, and he left Boulogne in the hands of the English, as a pledge for his faithful performance of that article. But thongh the re-establishment of peace seemed to leave the two monarchs at liberty to turn their attention towards Germany, so unfortunate were the protestants, that they derived no immediate advantage from this circum- stance. Henry appeared unwilling to enter into any alliance with them, but on such conditions as would render him not only the head, but the supreme director of their league; a pre-eminence which, as the bonds of union or interest between them were but feeble, and as he differed from them so widely in his religious sentiments, they had no inclination to admit/^ Francis, more powerfully inclined by political considerations to afford them assistance, found his kingdom so much exhausted by a long war, and was so much afraid of irritating the pope, by entering into close union with excommunicated heretics, that he durst not undertake the protection of the Smalkaldic league. By this ill-timed caution, or by a superstitious deference to scruples, to which at other times he was not much addicted, lie lost the most promising opportunity of mortifying and distressing his rival, which presented itself during his whole reign. But, notwithstanding their ill success in their negotia- tions with forcio;n courts, the confederates found no diffi- culty at home in bringing a sufficient force into the field. Germany abounded at that time in inhabitants ; the feudal institutions, which subsisted in full force, enabled the nobles to call out their numerous vassals, and to put them in motion on the shortest warning ; the martial spirit of " Rymcr, xv. 93. Ileibert, p. 258. BOOKViii.] WITH A LARGE ARMY. 165 the Germans, not broken or enervated by the introduction of commerce and arts, had acquired additional vigour during the continual wars in which they had been em- ployed, for half a century, either in the pay of the emperors or the kings of Prance. Upon every opportunity of entering into service, they were accustomed to nni eagerly to arms ; and to every standard that was erected, volunteers flocked from all quarters, ^^ Zeal seconded, on this occasion, their native ardour. Men, on whom the doctrines of the re- formation had made that deep impression which accom- panies truth when first discovered, prepared to maintain it with proportional vigour ; and among a warlike people, it appeared infamous to remain inactive, when the defence of religion was the motive for taking arms. Accident com- bined with all these circumstances in facilitating the levy of soldiers among the confederates. A considerable number of Germans, in the pay of France, being dismissed by the king on the prospect of peace with England, joined in a body the standard of the protestants.^^ By such a con- currence of causes, they were enabled to assemble in a few "weeks an army composed of seventy thousand foot and fifteen thousand horse, provided with a train of a hundred and twenty cannon, eight hundred ammunition-wagons, eight thousand beasts of burden, and six thousand pioneers. ^^ This army, one of the most numerous, and, undoubtedly, the best appointed of any which had been levied in Europe during that century, did not require the united effort of the whole protestant body to raise it. The elector of Saxony, the landgrave of Hesse, the duke of Wm^temberg, the princes of Anhalt, and the imperial cities of Augsburg-, Ulm, and Strasburg, were the only powers which con- tributed towards this great armament : the electors of Cologne, of Brandenburg, and the count palatine, over- *' Seek. lib. iii. p. 161. Avila et Zuniga Comraeiitariorum de " Thuan. lib. i. p. 68. Bel. Germ. lib. duo. Antw. 1550, ^' Ibid. lib. i. p. 601. Ludovici ab 12mo. p. 13 a. 166 INEQUALITY OF CHAELES'S FORCES. [bookaiii. awed by the emperor's threats, or deceived by his pro- fessions, remained neuter. John, marquis of Brandenburg Barieth, and Albert of Brandenburg Anspach, though both early converts to Lutheranism, entered openly into the emperor's service, under pretext of having obtained his promise for the security of the protestant religion ; and Maurice of Saxony soon followed their example. The number of their troops, as well as the amazing rapidity wherewith they had assembled them, astonished the emperor, and jBilled him with the most disquieting apprehensions. He was, indeed, in no condition to resist such a mighty force. Shut up in Ratisbon, a town of no great strength, whose inhabitants, being mostly Lutherans, would have been more ready to betray than to assist him, with only three thousand Spanish foot, who had served in Hungary, and about five thousand Germans, who had joined him from different parts of the empire, he must have been overwhelmed by the approach of such a formidable army, which he could not fight, nor could he even hope to retreat from it in safety. The pope's troops, though in full march to his relief, had hardly reached the frontiers of Germany; the forces which he expected from the Low Countries had not yet begun to move, and were even far from being complete.^" His situation, however, called for more immediate succour, nor did it seem practicable for him to wait for such distant auxiliaries, with whom his junction was so precarious. But it happened, fortunately for Charles, that the con- federates did not avail themselves of the advantage which lay so full in their view. In civil wars, the first steps are commonly taken with much timidity and hesitation. Men are solicitous, at that time, to put on the semblance of moderation and equity; they strive to gain partisans by seeming to adhere strictly to known forms ; nor can they be brought, at once, to violate those established institutions, * Slcid. p. :580. Avil.-i, ]>. S a. BOOK VIII.] PROTESTANTS LOSE BY INACTION. 1G7 whicli, in times of tranquillity, tliey have been accustomed to reverence ; licnce their proceedings are often feeble or dilatory, when they ought to be most vigorous and decisive. Influenced by those considerations, which, happily for the peace of society, operate powerfully on the human mind, the confederates could not think of throwing off that allegiance which they owed to the head of the empire, or of turning their arms against him, without one more solemn appeal to his candour, and to the impartial judgment of their fellow-subjects. For this purpose, they addressed a letter to the emperor, and a manifesto to all the inha- bitants of Germany. The tenour of both was the same. They represented their own conduct with regard to civil aflairs as dutiful and submissive ; they mentioned the inviolable union in whicli they had lived with the emperor, as well as the many and recent marks of his good-will and gratitude wherewithal they had been honoured ; they asserted religion to be the sole cause of the violence which the emperor now meditated against them ; and, in proof of this, produced many arguments to convince those who were so weak as to be deceived by the artifices with which he endeavoured to cover his real intentions ; they declared their own resolution to risk everything in maintenance of their religious rights, and foretold the dissolution of the German constitution, if the emperor should finally prevail against them.^^ Charles, though in such a perilous situation as might have inspired him with moderate sentiments, appeared as inflexible and haughty as if his afi'airs had been in the most prosperous state. His only reply to the address and manifesto of the protestants, was to publish the ban of the empire against the elector of Saxony and landgrave of Hesse, their leaders, and against all who should dare to assist them. By this sentence, the ultimate and most rigorous one which the German jurisprudence has provided -' Sleid. p. 384. 168 PROTESTANTS UN'DER BAN OF EMPIRE; [bookviii. for the punishment of traitors, or enemies to their country, they were declared rebels and outlaws, and deprived of every privilege which they enjoyed as members of the Germanic body ; their goods were confiscated ; their sub- jects absolved from their oath of allegiance ; and it became not only lawful, but meritorious, to invade their territories. The nobles, and free cities, who framed or perfected the constitution of the German government, had not been so negligent of their own safety and privileges as to trust the emperor with this formidable jurisdiction. The authority of a diet of the empire ought to have been interposed before any of its members could be put under the ban. But Charles overlooked that formality, well knowing that, if his arms were crowned with success, there would remain none who would have either power or courage to call in question what he had done.^- The emperor, however, did not found his sentence against the elector and landgrave on their revolt from the established church, or their conduct with regard to religion ; he affected to assign for it reasons purely civil, and those too expressed in such general and ambi'j"uous terms, without specifying the nature or circum- stances of their guilt, as rendered it more like an act of despotic power than of a legal and limited jurisdiction. Nor was it altogether from choice, or to conceal his inten- tions, that Charles had recourse to the ambiguity of general expressions ; but he durst not mention too particularly the causes of his sentence, as every action which he could have charged upon the elector and landgrave as a crime, might have been employed with c(|ual justice to condemn many of the protestants whom he still pretended to consider as faithful subjects, and whom it would have been extremely imprudent to alarm or disgust. The confederates, now perceiving all hopes of accommo- dation to be at an end, had only to choose whether they » Sleid. p. 3Sf). Du Mont, Corps Hist,. Abr^g6 du Droit Publ. pp. 108, Diplom. lib. iv. p. ii. 311. PfcfTd, 736, l-'iS. BOOK VIII.] DECLARE WAU AGAINST CHAELES. 169 would submit, without reserve, to the emperor's will, or proceed to open hostilities. They were not destitute either of public spirit, or of resolution to make the proper choice. A few days after the ban of the empire was published, they, according to the custom of that age, sent a herald to the imperial camp, with a solemn declaration of war against Charles, to whom they no longer gave any other title than that of pretended emperor, and renounced all allegiance, homage, or duty, which he might claim, or which they had hitherto yielded to him. But previous to this formality, part of their troops had begun to act. The command of a considerable body of men, raised by the city of Augsburg, having been given to Sebastian Schertel, a soldier of fortune, who, by the booty that he got when the imperialists plundered Rome, together with the merit of long service, had acquired wealth and authority which placed him on a level with the chief of the Germai) nobles ; that gallant veteran resolved, before he joined the main body of the confederates, to attempt something suitable to his former fame, and to the expectation of his countrj^men. As the pope's forces were hastening towards Tyrol? in order to penetrate into Germany, by the narrow passes through the mountains which run across that country, he advanced thither with the utmost rapidity, and seized Ehrenberg and CufFstein, two strong castles which commanded the prin- cipal defiles. Without stopping a moment, he continued his march towards Inspruck, by getting possession of which he would have obhged the Italians to stop short, and with a small body of men could have resisted all the eflbrts of the greatest armies. Castlealto, the governor of Trent, knowing what a fatal blow this would be to the emperor, all whose designs must have proved abortive if his Italian auxiliaries had been intercepted, raised a few troops with the utmost despatch, and threw himself into the town. Schertel, however, did not abandon the enterprise, and was preparing to attack the place, when the intelligence of the 170 ILL CONDUCT OF THE CONFEDERATES. [bookviii. approach of the ItaUans, and an order from the elector and landgrave, obliged him to desist. By his retreat the passes were left open, and the Italians entered Germany without any opposition, but from the garrisons which Schertel had placed in Ehrenberg and Cuffstein ; and these, having no hopes of being relieved, surrendered after a short resistance.^^ Nor was the recalling of Schertel the only error of which the confederates were guilty. As the supreme command of their army was committed, in terms of the league of Smal- kalde, to the elector of Saxony and landgrave of Hesse with equal power, all the inconveniences arising from a divided and co-ordinate authority, Avhich is always of fatal consequence in the operations of war, were immediately felt. The elector, though intrepid in his own person to excess, and most ardently zealous in the cause, was slow iu deliberating, uncertain as well as irresolute in his deter- minations, and constantly preferred measures which were cautious and safe to such as were bold or decisive. The landgrave, of a more active and enterprising nature, formed all his resolutions with promptitude, wished to execute them with spirit, and uniformly preferred such measures as tended to bring the contest to a speedy issue. Thus their maxims, with regard to the conduct of the war, differed as widely as those by which they were influenced in preparing for it. Such perpetual contrariety in their sentiments gave rise, imperceptibly, to jealousy, and the spirit of contention. ^ Scckend. lib. ii. p. 70. Adriani, ancient families in the empire. Among Istoria de' suoi Tempi, lib. v. p. 335. other curious particulars, he gives us Scckendorf, the industrious author an account of his wealth, the chief of the Commcntarius Apologcticus de source of which was the plunder he Luthoranismo, wliom I have so long got at Rome. His landed estate alone and safely followed as my guide in was sold by his grandsons for six German afl'uirs, was a descendant from hundred thousand florins. By this we iSchertd. Willi the care and solici- may form some idea of the riches tude of a f jcrman, wlio was himself of amassed by the coi/ddf/irri, or com- nol)le birth, Scckendorf has published mandcrs of mercenary bands, in that a long difMTssion concerning Iiis an- age. At the taking of Rome, Schertel cesfor, calculatcfl chiefly to show how was only a captain. Scckend. lib. ii. Schertel was ennobled, and his pos- p. 73. ferity, allied to many of the most BOOK VIII.] THE POPE'S TROOPS JOIN CHARLES. 171 These multiplied the dissensions flowing from the in- compatibility of their natural tempers, and rendered tlicm more violent. The other members of the league consider- ing themselves as independent, and subject to the elector and landgrave only in consequence of the articles of a voluntary confederacy, did not long retain a proper vene- ration for commanders who proceeded with so little con- cord; and the numerous army of the protestants, like a vast machine whose parts are ill compacted, and which is destitute of any power sufficient to move and regulate the whole, acted with no consistency, vigour, or effect. The emperor, who was afraid that, by remaining at Ratisbon, he might render it impossible for the pope's forces to join him, having boldly advanced to Landshut on the Iser, the confederates lost some days in deliberating whether it was proper to follow him into the territories of the duke of Bavaria, a neutral prince. When at last they surmounted that scruple, and began to move towards his camp, they suddenly abandoned the design, and hastened to attack Ratisbon, in which town Charles could leave only a small garrison. By this time the papal troops, amounting fully to that number which Paul had stipulated to furnish, had reached Landshut, and were soon followed by six thousand Spaniards of the veteran bands stationed in Naples. The confederates, after Schertel's spirited but fruitless expe- dition, seem to have permitted these forces to advance un- molested to the place of rendezvous, without any attempt to attack either them or the emperor separately, or to prevent their junction.^* The imperial army amounted now to thirty-six thousand men, and was still more formidable by the discipline and valour of the troops than by their number. Avila, commendador of Alcantara, who had been present in all the wars carried on by Charles, and had served in the armies which gained the memorable victory at Pavia, which conquered Tunis, and invaded France, ^' Adriaui, Istoria dc' suoi Tempi, lib. v. p. 340. 1/2 THE COXJEDERATES ADVANCE [bookviii. gives this the preference to any mihtary force he had ever seen assembled. ^^ Octavio Farnese, the pope's grandson, assisted by the ablest officers formed in the long wars between Charles and Francis, commanded the Italian aux- iliaries. His brother, the cardinal Farnese, accompanied him as papal legate ; and, in order to give the war the appearance of a religious enterprise, he proposed to march at the head of the army, with a cross carried before him, and to publish indulgences wherever he came to all who should give them any assistance, as had anciently been the practice in the crusades against the infidels. But this the emperor strictly prohibited, as inconsistent with all the de- clarations which he had made to the Germans of his own party ; and the legate perceiving, to his astonishment, that the exercise of the protestant religion, the extirpation of which he considered as the sole object of the war, was publicly permitted in the imperial camp, soon returned in disgust to Italy. ^^ The arrival of these troops enabled the emperor to send such a reinforcement to the garrison at Ratisbon, that the confederates, relinquishing all hopes of reducing that town, marched towards Ingoldstadt on the Danube, near to which Charles was now encamped. They exclaimed loudly against the emperor's notorious violation of the laws and constitution of the empire, in having called in foreigners to lay waste Germany, and to oppress its liberties. As in that age the dominion of the Roman see was so odious to the protestants, that the name of the pope alone was suf- ficient to inspire them with horror at any enterprise which he countenanced, and to raise in their minds the blackest suspicions, it came to be universally believed among them, that Paul, not satisfied with attacking them openly by force of arms, had disi)crsed his emissaries all over Germany, to set on fire their towns and magazines, and to poison the wells and fountains of water. Nor did this rumour, which 2* Avila, p. 18. '« E. Eaul, p. I'Ji. BooKvin.] TOWAUDS TIIE IMPERIAL ARMY. I73 was extravagant and frightful enough to make a deep impression on the credulity of the vulgar, spread among them only ; even the leaders of the party, blinded by their prejudices, published a declaration, in which they accused the pope of having employed such antichristian and diabolical arts against them.^^ These sentiments of the confederates were confirmed, in some measure, by the behaviour of the papal troops, who, thinking nothing too rigorous towards heretics anathematized by the church, were guilty of great excesses in the territories of the Lutheran states, and aggravated the calamities of war by mingling with it all the cruelty of bigoted zeal. The first operations in the field, however, did not correspond with the violence of those passions which animated individuals. The emperor had prudently taken the resolvitiou of avoiding an action with an enemy so far superior in number,^^ especially as he foresaw that nothing could keep a body composed of so many and such dissimilar members from falling to pieces, but the pressing to attack it with an inconsiderate precipitancy. The confederates, though it was no less evident to them that every moment's delay was pernicious, were still prevented, by the weakness or division of their leaders, from exerting that vigour with which their situation, as well as the ardour of their soldiers, ought to have inspired them. On their arrival at Ingold- stadt, they found the emperor in a camp not remarkable for strength, and surrounded only by a slight entrenchment. Before the camp lay a plain of such extent as afforded sufficient space for drawing out their whole army, and bringing it to act at once. Every consideration should have determined them to have seized this opportunity of attack- ing the emperor ; and their great superiority in numbers, the eagerness of their troops, together with the stability of the German infantry in pitched battles, afforded them the most probable expectation of victory. The landgrave urged this 27 Sleid. p. 399. ^s Avila, p. 78 a. 174 . CHAELES DECLINES A BATTLE. [bookviii. with great warmth, declaring, that if the sole command were vested in him, he would terminate the war on that occasion, and decide by one general action the fate of the two parties. But the elector, reflecting on the valour and discipline of the enemy's forces, animated by the presence of the emperor, and conducted by the best officers of the age, would not venture upon an action which he thought to be so doubtfid as the attacking such a body of veterans on ground which they themselves had chosen, and while covered with fortifications which, though imperfect, would afford them no small advantage in the combat. Notwith- standing his hesitation and remonstrances, it was agreed to advance towards the enemy's camp, in battle array, in oi'dcr to make a trial whether by that insult, and by a furious cannonade which they began, they could draw the imperialists out of their works. But the emperor had too much sagacity to fall into this snare : he adhered to his own system with inflexible constancy; and, drawing up his soldiers behind their trenches, that they might be ready to receive the confederates, if they should venture upon an assault, calmly waited their approach, and care- fully restrained his own men from any excursions or skir- mishes which might bring on a general engagement. He rode along the lines ; and addressing the troops of the dif- ferent nations in their own language, encouraged them not only by his words, but by the cheerfulness of his voice and countenance; he exposed himself in places of greatest danger, and amidst the warmest fire of the enemy's artillery, — the most numerous that had hitherto been brought into the field by any army. Roused by his example, not a man quitted his ranks ; it was thought infamous to discover any symptom of fear when the emperor appeared so intrepid ; and the meanest soldier plainly perceived, that their de- clining the combat at present was not the eff'cet of timidity in th(;ir general, Ijut the result of a well-grounded caution. The confederates, after firing several hours on the im- EooKvm.] FLEMISH TROOPS JOIN HIM. I75 perialists, with more noise and terror than execution, seeing no prospect of aHuring them to fight on equal terms, retired to their own camp. Tlie emperor employed the night with such diligence in strengthening his works, that the confed- erates, returning to the cannonade next day, found that, though they had now been willing to venture upon such a bold experiment, the opportunity of making an attack with advantage Avas lost.^^ After such a discovery of the feebleness or irresolution of their leaders, and the prudence as well as firmness of the emperor's conduct, the confederates turned their whole attention towards preventing the arrival of a powerfid re- inforcement of ten thousand foot and four thousand horse, which the Count de Buren was bringing to the emjjeror from the Low Countries. But though that general had to traverse such an extent of country ; though his route lay through the territories of several states warmly disposed to favour the confederates ; though, they were apprised of his approach, and, by their superiority in numbers, might easily have detached a force sufficient to overpower him, he advanced with such rapidity, and by such well-con- certed movements, while they opposed him with such remissness, and so little military skill, that he conducted this body to the imperial camp without any loss.^'' Upon the arrival of the Flemings, in v^hom he placed great confidence, the emperor altered, in some degree, his plan of operations, and began to act more upon the offensive, though he still avoided a battle, with the utmost industry. He made himself master of Neuburg, Dillingen and Donawert on the Danube ; of Nordlingen, and several other towns, situated on the most considerable streams which fall into that mighty river. By this he got the com- mand of a great extent of country, though not without being obliged to engage in several sharp encounters, of 29 Sleid. pp. 395, 397. Avila, p. 27 a. Lamb. Hortens. ap. Scard. ii. ^i' Sleid. p. 403. 176 STATE OF BOTH AEI^HES. [bookviii. ■which the success was various, not without being exposed, oftener than once, to the danger of being drawn into a battle. In this manner the whole autumn was spent ; neither party gained any remarkable superiority over the other, and nothing was yet done towards bringing the war to a period. The emperor had often foretold, with con- fidence, that discord and the want of money would compel the confederates to disperse that unwieldy body, which they had neither abilities to guide nor funds to support.^ ^ Though he waited with impatience for the accomplishment of his predictions, there was no prospect of that event being at hand. But he himself began to suffer from the want of forage and provisions ; even the catholic provinces being so much incensed at the introduction of foreigners into the empire, that they furnished them with reluctance, while the camp of the confederates abounded with a profusion of all necessaries, which the zeal of their friends in the adjacent countries poured in with the utmost liberality and good- will. Great numbers of the Italians and Spaniards, unac- customed to the climate or food of Germany, were become unfit for service through sickness, ^^ Considerable arrears were now due to the troops, who had scarcely received any money from the beginning of the campaign ; the emperor experiencing on this, as well as on former occasions, that his jurisdiction was more extensive than his revenues, and that the former enabled him to assemble a greater number of soldiers than the latter were sufiicicnt to support. Upon all these accounts, he found it difficult to keep his army in the field ; some of his ablest generals, and even the duke of Alva himself, persevering and obstinate as he usually was in the prosecution of every measure, advising him to disperse his troops into winter-quarters. But as the argu- ments urged ngainst any plan which he had adopted rarely made nuicli impression upon the emperor, he paid no ^' Belli Sinalkaliiici Coninicniariiis Camcrario, ap. Frclior. vol. iii. p. 479. Grajco sermonc sciiptus a Joacli. ^^ Caiiicrar. ap. Frchcr. p. 183. BOOK VIII.] SCHEMES OF MAURICE OF SAXONY. 177 regard to their opinion, and determined to continue his efforts, in order to weary out the confederates, being well assured that, if he coukl once obUge them to separate, there was Httle probabiUty of their uniting again in a body/* Still, however, it remained a doubtful point, whether his steadiness was most likely to fail, or their zeal to be exhausted. It was still uncertain which party, by first dividing its forces, would give the superiority to the other, when an unexpected event decided the contest, and occa- sioned a fatal reverse in the affairs of the confederates. Maurice of Saxony having insinuated himself into the emperor's confidence, by the arts which have already been described, no sooner saw hostilities ready to break out between the confederates of Smalkalde and that monarch, than vast prospects of ambition began to open upon him. That portion of Saxony, which descended to him from his ancestors, was far from satisfying his aspiring mind ; and he perceived with pleasure the approach of civil war, as, amidst the revolutions and convulsions occasioned by it, opportunities of acquiring additional power or dignity, which at other times are sought in vain, present themselves to an enterprising spirit. As he was thoroughly acquainted with the state of the two contending parties, and the qualities of their leaders, he did not hesitate long in deter- mining on which side the greatest advantages were to be expected. Having revolved all these things in his own breast, and having taken his final resolution of joining the emperor, he prudently determined to declare early in his favour ; that, by the merit of this, he might acquire a title to a proportional recompense. With this view, he had repaired to Ratisbon in the month of May, under pretext of attending the diet ; and after many conferences with Charles or his ministers, he, with the most mysterious secrecy, concluded a treaty, in which he engaged to concur in assisting the emperor as a faithful subject ; and Charles, ^ Tliaun. p. 83. VOL. II. N 178 JLiURICE'S LEAGUE WITH THE E:\IPER0R. [bookviii. in return, stipulated to bestow on him all tlie spoils of the elector of Saxony, his dignities as well as territories.^* History hardly records any treaty that can be considered as a more manifest violation of the most powerful principles which ought to influence human actions. Maurice, a pro- fessed protestant, at a time when the belief of religion, as well as zeal for its interests, took strong possession of every mind, binds himself to contribute his assistance towards carrying on a war which had manifestly no other object than the extirpation of the protestant doctrines. He engages to take arms against his father-in-law, and to strip his nearest relation of his honours and dominions. He joins a dubious friend against a known benefactor, to whom his obligations were both great and recent. Nor was the prince who ventured upon all this one of those audacious politicians, who, provided they can accomplish their ends, and secure their interest, avowedly disregard the most sacred obligations, and glory in contemning whatever is honourable or decent. Maurice's conduct, if the whole must be ascribed to policy, was more artful and masterly ; he executed his plan in all its parts, and yet endeavoured to preserve, in every step which he took, the appearance of what was fair, and virtuous, and laudable. It is probable, from his subsequent behaviour, that, with regard to the protestant religion at least, his intentions were upright ; that he fondly trusted to the emperor's promises for its security ; but that, according to the fate of all who reline too much in })olicy, and who tread in dark and crooked paths, in attempting to deceive others, he himself was, in some degree, deceived. His first care, however, was to keep the engagements into which he had entered with the emperor closely con- cealed ; and so perfect a master was he in the art of dis- siinulalion, that the confederates, notwithstanding his declining all connexions with thcjn, and his remarkable =^' Harrei Annal. Brabant, vol. i. p. 033. Struvii Corp. 1018. Tliuan. p. 81. BooKviiL] MAURICE'S AETLFICES. 179 assiduity in paying court to the emperor, seemed to have entertained no suspicion of liis designs. Even the elector of Saxony, when he marched at the beginning of the campaign to join his associates, committed his dominions to Maurice's protection, which he, with an insidious appear- ance of friendsliip, readily undertook. ^^ But scarcely had the elector taken the field, when Maurice began to consult privately with the king of the Romans how to invade those very territories, with the defence of which he was intrusted. Soon after, the emperor sent him a copy of the imperial ban denounced against the elector and landgrave. As he was next heir to the former, and particularly interested in preventing strangers from getting his dominions into their possession, Charles required him, not only for his own sake, but upon the allegiance and duty which he owed to the head of the empire, instantly to seize and detain in his hands the forfeited estates of the elector ; warning him, at the same time, that if he neglected to obey these commands, he should be held as accessory to the crimes of his kinsman , and be liable to the same punishment.'^^ This artifice, which it is probable Maurice himself sug- gested, was employed by him in order that his conduct towards the elector might seem a matter of necessity but not of choice, an act of obedience to his superior, rather than a voluntary invasion of the rights of his kinsman and ally. But in order to give some more specious appearance to this thin veil with which he endeavoured to cover his ambition, he, soon after his return from Ratisbon, had called together the states of his country ; and, representing to them that a civil war between the emperor and confede- rates of Smalkalde was now become unavoidable, desired their advice with regard to the part which he should act in that event. They having been prepared, no doubt, and tutored beforehand, and being desirous of gratifying their prince, whom they esteemed as well as loved, gave such '^ Struvii Corp. lOlG. ^o gi^jj, p_ 392, ^^^^nR^_ ^^ .^^^^ N 2 180 :NL1URICE'S artifices. [book VIII. counsel as they knew would be most agreeable ; advising him to offer his mediation towards reconciling the contend- ing parties ; but if that were rejected, and he could obtain proper security for the protestant religion, they delivered it as their opinion, that, in all other points, he ought to yield obedience to the emperor. Upon receiving the imperial rescript, together with the ban against the elector and landgrave, Maurice summoned the states of his country a second time ; he laid before them the orders which he had received, and mentioned the punishment with which he was threatened in case of disobedience; he acquainted them that the confederates had refused to admit of his mediation, and that the emperor had given him the most satisfactory declarations with regard to religion ; he pointed out his own interest in securing possession of the electoral dominions, as well as the danger of allowing strangers to obtain an establishment in Saxony ; and upon the whole, as the point under deliberation respected his subjects no less than himself, he desired to know their sentiments, how he should steer in that difficult and arduous conjuncture. The states, no less obsequious and complaisant than formerly, professing their own reliance on the emperor's promises as a perfect security for their religion, proposed that, before he had recourse to more violent methods, they would write to the elector, exhorting him, as the best means, not only of appeasing the emperor, but of prevent- ing his dominions from being seized by foreign or hostile powers, to give his consent that Maurice should take pos- session of them quietly and without opposition. Maurice himself seconded their arguments in a letter to the land- grave, his father-in-law. Such an extravagant proposition was rejected with the scorn and indignation which it deserved. The landgrave, in return to Maurice, taxed him with his treachery and ingratitude towards a kinsman to Avhom he was so deeply indebted; ho treated with contcm])t his affectation of executing the imperial ban, which ho could BooKviii.] HTS INVASION OF SAXONY. 181 not but know to be altogether void by the unconstitutional and arbitrary manner in which it had been issued ; he be- souglit him not to suffer himself to be so far blinded by ambition, as to forget the obligations of honour and friend- ship, or to betray the protestant religion, the extirpation of which out of Germany, even by the acknowledgment of the pope himself, was the great object of the present war." But Maurice had proceeded too far to be diverted from pursuing his plan by reproaches or arguments. Nothing now remained hut to execute with vigour, what he had hitherto carried on by artifice and dissimulation. Nor was his boldness in action inferior to his subtlety in con- trivance. Having assembled about twelve thousand men, he suddenly invaded one part of the electoral provinces, while Ferdinand, with an army composed of Bohemians and Hungarians, overran the other. Maurice, in two sharp encounters, defeated the troops which the elector had left to guard his country ; and improving these advantages to the utmost, made himself master of all the electorate, except Wittemberg, Gotha, and Eisenach, which, being places of considerable strength, and defended by sufficient garrisons, refused to open their gates. The news of these rapid conquests soon reached the imperial and confederate camps. In the former, their satisfaction with an event which it was foreseen would be productive of the most important consequences, was expressed by every possible demonstration of joy : the latter was filled with astonish- ment and terror. The name of Maurice was mentioned with execration, as an apostate from religion, a betrayer of the German liberty, and a contemner of the most sacred and natural ties. Everything that the rage or invention of the party could suggest, in order to blacken and render him odious ; invectives, satires, and lampoons, the furious declamations of their preachers, together with the rude wit of their authors, were all employed against him : while he, 37 Sleid. p. 405, &c. Tliuan. p. 85. Cnmerar. p. 48 i. 182 OVERTURES OF THE CONFEDERATES : [bookviii. confiding in the arts which he had so long practised, as if his actions could have admitted of any serious justification, published a manifesto, containing the same frivolous reasons for his conduct, which he had formerly alleged in the meeting of his states, and in his letter to the landgrave. ^^ The elector, upon the first intelligence of Maurice's motions, proposed to return home wdth his troops for the defence of Saxony. But the deputies of the league, as- sembled at Ulm, prevailed on him at that time, to remain with the army, and to prefer the success of the com- mon cause before the security of his own dominions. At length the sufferings and complaints of his subjects in- creased so much, that he discovered the utmost impatience to set out, in order to rescue them from the oppression of Maurice and from the cruelty of the Hungarians, who, having been accustomed to that licentious and merci- less species of war which Avas thought lawful against the Turks, committed, wherever they came, the wildest acts of rapine and violence. This desire of the elector was so natural and so w^armly urged, that the deputies at Ulm, though fully sensible of the unhappy consequences of dividing their army, durst not refuse their consent, how unwilling soever to grant it. In this perplexity, they repaired to the camp of the confederates of Giengen, on the Brenz, in order to consult their constituents. Nor were they less at a loss what to determine in this pressing emer- gence. But, after having considered seriously the open desertion of some of their allies ; the scandalous lukewarm- ness of others, who had hitherto contributed nothing towards the war ; the intolerable load which had fallen of consequence upon such members as were most zealous for the cause, or most faithful to their engagements ; the ill sncccss of all their endeavours to obtain foreign aid ; the unusual length of the campaign; the rigour of the season; together with the great number of soldiers, and even ^« Sleid. pp. 409, 410. BooKvin.] THEIR REJECTION BY CHARLES. 183 officers, who had quitted the service on that account ; they conchided that nothing could save them but either bring- ing tlie contest to the immediate decision of a battle, by attacking the imperial army, or an accommodation of all their differences with Charles by a treaty. Such was the de- spondency and dejection which now oppressed the party, that of these two they chose what was most feeble and unmanly, empowering a minister of the elector of Brandenburg to ])ropound overtures of peace in their name to the emperor. No sooner did Charles perceive this haughty confederacy, which had so lately threatened to drive him out of Ger- many, condescending to make the first advances towards an agreement, than concluding thtir spirit to be gone, or their imion to be broken, he immediately assumed the tone of a conqueror ; and, as if they had been already at his mercy, Avould not hear of a negotiation, but upon condition that the elector of Saxony should previously give up himself and his dominions absolutely to his disposal. '^^ As nothing more intolerable or ignominious could have been prescribed, even in the worst situation of their affairs, it is no wonder that this proposition should be rejected by a party, which w^as rather humbled and disconcerted than subdued. But though they refused to submit tamely to the emperor's will, they wanted spirit to pursue the only plan which could have preserved their independence ; and forgetting that it was the union of their troops in one body which had hitherto rendered the confederacy formidable, and had more than once obliged the imperialists to think of quitting the field, they inconsiderately ubandoned this advantage, wdiich, in spite of the diversion in Saxony, would still have kept the emperor in awe ; and, yielding to the elector's entreaties, consented to his proposal of dividing the army. Nine thousand men were left in the duchy of Wurtembcrg, in order to protect that province, as well as the free cities of Upper Germany ; a considerable body marched with the ^' Ilortcusius, ap. Scard. ii. 4S5. 184 SUB:NnSSION of the CO^^FEDEIIATES [book VIII. elector towards Saxony; but tlie greater part returned with their respective leaders into their own countries, and were dispersed there. ^^ The moment that the troops separated, the confederacy ceased to be the object of terror ; and the members of it, who, while they composed part of a great body, had felt but little anxiety about their own security, began to tremble when they reflected that they now stood exposed singly to the whole weight of the emperor's vengeance. Charles did not allow them leisure to recover from their consternation, or to form any new schemes of union. As soon as the confederates began to retire, he put his army in motion, and, though it was now the depth of winter, he resolved to keep the field, in order to make the most of that favourable juncture for which he had waited so long. Some small towns, in which the protestants had left gar- risons, immediately opened their gates. Norlingen, Roten- berg, and Hall, imperial cities, submitted soon after. Though Charles could not prevent the elector from levying, as he retreated, large contributions upon the archbishop of Mentz, the abbot of Fulda, and other ecclesiastics," this was more than balanced by the submission of Dim, one of the chief cities of Suabia, highly distinguished by its zeal for the Smalkaldic league. As soon as an example was set of deserting the common cause, the rest of the members became instantly impatient to follow it, and seemed afraid lest others, by getting the start of them in returning to their duty, should, on that account, obtain more favourable terms. The elector palatine, a weak prince, who, notwith- standing his professions of neutrality, had, very preposter- ously, sent to the confederates four hundred horse, a body so inconsiderable as to be scarcely any addition to their strength, but great enough to render him guilty in the eyes of the emperor, made his acknowledgments in the most abject manner. The inhabitants of Angsl)urg, shaken by *" Sleid. p. 111. ■" Thuan. p. 88. BOOK VIII.] TO THE EMPEROR 185 so many instances of apostasy, expelled the brave Scliertel out of their city, and accepted such conditions as the emperor was pleased to grant them. The duke of Wurtemberg, though among the first who had otfered to submit, was obliged to sue for pardon on his knees [1547], and, even after this mortifying humiliation, obtained it with difficulty.''- Mcmmingen, and other free cities in the circle of Suabia, being now abandoned by all their former associates, found it necessary to provide for their own safety, by throwing themselves on the emperor's mercy. Strasburg and Frankfort-on-the-Maine, cities far removed from the seat of danger, discovered no greater steadiness than those which lay more exposed. Thus a confederacy, lately so powerful as to shake the imperial throne, fell to pieces, and was dissolved in the space of a few weeks, hardly any member of that formidable com- bination now remaining in arms but the elector and land- grave, to whom the emperor, having from the beginning marked them out as victims of his vengeance, was at no pains to offer terms of reconcihation. Nor did he grant those who submitted to him a generous and unconditional pardon. Conscious of his own superiority, he treated them both with haughtiness and rigour. All the princes in person, and the cities by their deputies, were compelled to implore mercy in the humble posture of supplicants. As the emperor laboured under great difficulties from the want of money, he imposed heavy fines upon them, which he levied with most rapacious exactness. The duke of Wur- temberg paid three hundred thousand crowns ; the city of Augsburg, a hundred and fifty thousand ; Ulm, a hundred thousand ; Frankfort, eighty thousand ; Memmingen, fifty thousand ; and the rest in proportion to their abilities, or their different degrees of guilt. They were obliged, besides, to renounce the league of Smalkalde; to furnish assistance, if required, towards executing the imperial ban against the ^ Mem. de Ribier, torn. i. p. 5S9. 186 RESIGNATION or THE ELECTOR OF COLOGNE, [bookviii. elector and landgrave ; to give up their artillery and warlike stores to the emperor ; to admit garrisons into their prin- cipal cities and places of strength; and, in this disarmed and dependent situation, to expect the final award which the emperor should think proper to pronounce when the war came to an issue/^ But, amidst the great variety of articles dictated by Charles on this occasion, he, in con- formity to his original plan, took care that nothing relating to religion should be inserted ; and to such a degree were the confederates humbled or overawed, that, forgetting the zeal whicli had so long animated them, they were solicitous only about their own safety, without venturing to insist on a point, the mention of which they saw the emperor avoid- ing with so much industry. The inhabitants of Mem- niingen alone made some feeble efforts to procure a promise of protection in the exercise of their religion, but were checked so severely by the imperial ministers, that they instantly fell from their demand. The elector of Cologne, whom, notwithstanding the sentence of excommunication issued against him by the pope, Charles had hitherto allowed to remain in possession of the archiepiscopal see, being now required by the emperor to submit to the censures of the church, this virtuous and disinterested prelate, unwilling to expose his subjects to the miseries of war on his own account, volun- tarily resigned that high dignity. With a moderation becoming his age' and character, he chose to enjoy truth, together with the exercise of his religion, in the retirement of a private life, rather than to disturb society by engaging in a doubtful and violent struggle in order to retain his oilice." During these transactions, the elector of Saxony reached the frontiers of his coinitrv unmolested. As Maurice could assemble no force ccpial to the army Avhich accompanied •'•' Rloid. pp. Ill, &o. Tlmaii. lib. iv. p. ]25. Mem. do Kihln; torn. i. p. GOG. ^' Slcid. p. 418. Tlmaii. lib. iv. p. 128. BOOK VIII.] RETURN OF THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 187 liim, lie in a short time not only recovered possession of Lis own territories, but overran Misnia, and stripped his rival of all that belonged to him, except Dresden and Leipsic, which, being towns of some strength, could not be suddenly reduced. ]\Iaurice, obliged to quit the field, and to shut himself up in his caj)ital, despatched courier after courier to the emperor, representing his dangerous situation, and soliciting him with the most earnest impor- tunity, to march immediately to his relief. But Charles, busy at that time in prescribing terms to such members of the league as were daily returning to their allegiance, thought it sufficient to detach Albert, marquis of Bran- denburg Anspacli, with three thousand men, to his assist- ance. Albert, though an enterprising and active officer, was unexpectedly surprised by the elector, who killed many of his troops, dispersed the remainder, and took him prisoner. ^^ Maurice continued as much exposed as formerly ; and if his enemy had known how to improve the opportunity which presented itself, his ruin must have been immediate and unavoidable. But the elector, no less slow and dilatory when invested with the sole command than he had been formerly when joined in authority with a partner, never gave any proof of military activity but in this enterprise against Albert. Instead of marching directly towards Maurice, whom the defeat of his ally had greatly alarmed, he inconsiderately listened to overtures of accommodation, which his artful antagonist proposed with no other intention than to amuse him, and to slacken the vigour of his operations. Such, indeed, was the posture of the emperor's affairs, that he could not march instantly to the relief of his ally. Soon after the separation of the confederate army, he, in order to ease himself of the burden of maintaining a superfluous number of troops, had dismissed the count of Buren with his Flemings,'^^ imagining that the Spaniards *' Avila, p. 99, 6. Mem. de R.ibier, torn i. p. 620. « Ibid. p. 88, C. ]b!d. torn. i. p. 592. 188 THE POPE REC-VLLS HIS TEOOPS. [bookviii. and Germans, together with the papal forces, would be fully sufficient to crush any degree of vigour that yet remained among the members of the league. But Paul, growing wise too late, began now to discern the impru- dence of that measure, from which the more sagacious Venetians had endeavoured in vain to dissuade him. The rapid progress of the imperial arms, and the ease with which they had broken a combination that appeared no less firm than powerful, opened his eyes at length, and made him not only forget all the advantages which he had expected from such a complete triumph over heresy, but placed in the strongest light his own impolitic conduct, in having contributed towards acquiring for Charles such an immense increase of power as would enable him, after oppressing the liberties of Germany, to give law with absolute authority to all the states of Italy. The moment that he perceived his error he endeavoured to correct it. "Without giving the emperor any warning of his intention, he ordered Farnese, his grandson, to return instantly to Italy with all the troops under his command, and at the same time recalled the licence which he had granted Charles, of appropriating to his own use a large share of the church lands in Spain. He was not destitute of pre- tences to justify this abrupt desertion of his ally. The term of six months, during which the stipulations in their treaty were to continue in force, was now expired ; tlie league, in opposition to which their alHance liad been framed, seemed to be entirely dissipated ; Charles, in all his negotiations with the princes and cities which had sub- mitted to his will, had neither consulted the pope, nor had allotted him any part of the conquests which he had made, nor had allowed him any share in the vast contributions Mhich he had raised. lie had not even made any provi- sion for the suppression of heresy, or the re-cstablishmcnt of the catholic religion, Avliich were Paul's chief induce- ments to bestow the treasures of the church so liberally in BOOK VIII.] CONSPIRACY IN GENOA. 189 carrying on the war. These colours, however specious, did not conceal from the emperor that secret jealousy which was the true motive of the pope's conduct. But, as Paul's orders with regard to the march of his troops were no less preremptory than unexpected, it was imi)os- sible to prevent their retreat. Charles exclaimed loudly against his treachery, in abandoning him so unseasonably, while he was prosecuting a war undertaken in obedience to the papal injunctions, and from which, if successful, so much honour and advantage would redound to the church. To complaints he added threats and expostulations. But Paul remained inflexible ; his troops continued their march towards tlie ecclesiastical state ; and in an elaborate me- morial, intended as an apology for his conduct, he disco- vered new and more manifest symptoms of alienation from the emperor, together with a deep-rooted dread of his power.^^ Charles, weakened by the withdrawing of so great a body from his array, which was already much diminished by the number of garrisons that he had been obliged to throw into the towns which had capitulated, found it necessary to recruit his forces by new levies, before he could venture to march in person towards Saxony. The fame and splendour of his success could not have failed of attracting such multitudes of soldiers into his service from all the extensive territories now subject to his authority, as must have soon put him in a condition of taking the field against the elector; but the sudden and violent irruption of a conspiracy at Genoa, as well as the great revolutions which that event, exceedingly mysterious in its first appearances, seemed to portend, obliged him to avoid entangling himself in new operations in Germany, until he had fully discovered its source and tendency. The form of government which had been established in Genoa, at the time when Andrew Doria restored liberty to his country, though calculated to obliterate the memory of ^^ F. Paul, p. 208. Palkvic. par. ii. p. 5. Thuan. p. 12G. 190 COXSPIKACY IN GENOA. [book viii. former dissensions, and received at first with eager appro- bation, did not, after a trial of nearly twenty years, give universal satisfaction to those turbulent and factious repub- licans. As the entire administration of affairs was now lodged in a certain number of noble families, many, envying them that pre-eminence, wished for the restitution of a popular government, to which they had been accustomed ; and, though all reverenced the disinterested virtue of Doria, and admired his talents, not a few were jealous of that ascendant which he had acquired in the councils of the commonwealth. His age, however, his moderation, and his love of liberty, afforded ample security to his countrymen that he would not abuse his power, nor stain the close of his days by attempting to overturn that fabric, which it had been the labour and pride of his life to erect. But the authority and influence which in his hands w^ere innocent, they easily saw would prove destructive, if usurped by any citizen of greater ambition, or less virtue. A citizen of this dangerous character had actually formed such pretensions, and with some prospect of success. Giannetino Doria, whom his grand-uncle Andrew destined to be the heir of his private fortune, aimed likewise at being his successor in power. His temper haughty, insolent, and overbearing to such a degree as would hardly have been tolerated in one born to reign, was altogether insupportable in the citizen of a free state. The more sagacious among the Genoese already feared and hated him as the enemy of those liberties for which they were indebted to his uncle; while Andrew himself, blinded by that violent and undisccrning affection which persons in advanced age often contract for the younger members of their family, set no bounds to the indulgence with which he treated him ; seeming less solicitous to secure and perpetuate the freedom of the commonwealth than to aggrandize that undeserving kinsman. But whatever suspicion of Doria's designs, or whatever dissatisfaction with the system of administration in the BOOK VIII.] riESCO, COUNT OF LAVAGNA. 191 commonwealth, these circumstances might have occasioned, they would have ended, it is probable, in nothing more than munnui'ings and complaints, if John Lewis Tiesco, count of Lavagna, observing this growing disgust, had not been encouraged by it to attempt one of the boldest actions recorded in history. That young nobleman, the richest and most illustrious subject in the republic, possessed, in an eminent degree, all the qualities which win upon the human heart, which command respect or secure attachment. He was graceful and majestic in his person ; magnificent even to profusion ; of a generosity that anticipated the wishes of his friends, and exceeded the expectations of strangers ; of an insinuating address, gentle manners, and a flowing aflfability. But, under the appearance of these virtues, which seemed to form him for enjoying and adorning social life, he concealed all the dispositions which mark men out for taking the lead in the most dangerous and dark con- spiracies ; an insatiable and restless ambition, a courage unacquainted with fear, and a mind that disdained subor- dination. Such a temper could ill brook that station of inferiority, wherein he was placed in the republic ; and, as he envied the powTr which the elder Doria had acquired, he was filled with indignation at the thoughts of its descending, like an hereditary possession, to Giannetino. These various passions, preying with violence on his turbulent and aspiring mind, determined him to attempt overturning that domi- nation to which he could not submit. As the most effectual method of accomplishing this, he thought at first of forming a connexion with Francis, and even proposed it to the French ambassador at Rome ; and, after expelling Doria, together with the imperial faction, by his assistance, he offered to put the republic once more under the protection of that monarch, hoping in return for that service to be intrusted with the principal share in the administration of government. But having communicated his scheme to a few chosen confidants, from w^hom he kept 192 I^^TRIGUES AXD PREPARATIONS [bookyiii. nothing secret, Verrina, the chief of them, a man of des- perate fortune, capable ahke of advising and executing the most audacious deeds, remonstrated with earnestness against the folly of exposing himself to the most imminent danger, while he allowed another to reap all the fruits of his success ; and exhorted him warmly to aim himself at that pre-eminence in his country, to which he was destined by his illustrious birth, was called by the voice of his fellow-citizens, and would be raised by the zeal of his friends. This discourse opened such great prospects to Fiesco, and so suitable to his genius, that, abandoning his own plan, he eagerly adopted that of Verrina. The other persons present, though sensible of the hazardous nature of the undertaking, did not choose to condemn what their patron had so warmly approved. It was instantly resolved, in this dark cabal, to assassinate the two Dorias, as well as the principal persons of their party, to overturn the esta- blished system of government, and to place Fiesco on the ducal throne of Genoa. Time, however, and preparations were requisite to ripen such a design for execution ; and while he was employed in carrying on these, Fiesco made his chief care to guard against every thing that might betray his secret, or create suspicion. Tiie disguise he assumed was, of all others, the most impenetrable. He seemed to be abandoned entirely to pleasure and dissi- pation. A perpetual gaiety, diversified by the pursuit of all the amusements in which persons of his age and rank are apt to delight, engrossed, in appearance, the whole of his time and thoughts. 13ut amidst this hurry of dissi- pation, he prosecuted his })lan with the most cool attention, neither retarding the design by a timid hesitation, nor precipitating the execution by an excess of impatience. lie continued his correspondence with the French ambas- sador at Rome, though without connnunicating to him his real intentions, that, by his means, he might secure the pro- tection of the French arms, if hereafter he should find it BooKvni.] OF THE CONSPmATOHS. 193 necessary to call them to his aid. lie entered into a close confederacy with Farnese, did^e of Parma, who, being dis- gusted with the emperor for refusing to grant him the in- vestiture of that duchy, was eager to promote any measure that tended to diminish his influence in Italy, or to ruin a family so implicitly devoted to him as that of Doria. Being sensible that, in a maritime state, the acquisition of naval power was what he ought chiefly to aim at, he purchased four galleys from the pope, who, probably, Avas not unacquainted with the design which he had formed, and did not disap- prove of it. Under colour of fitting out one of these galleys to sail on a cruise against the Turks, he not only assembled a good number of his own vassals, but engaged in his service many bold adventurers, whom the truce between the emperor and Solyman had deprived of their usual occu- pation and subsistence. While Fiesco was taking these important steps, he preserved so admirably his usual appearance of being devoted entirely to pleasure and amusement, and paid court with such artful address to the two Dorias, as imposed not only on the generous and unsuspicious mind of Andrew, but deceived Giannetino, who, conscious of his owai criminal intentions, was more apt to distrust the designs of others. So many instruments being now prepared, nothing remained but to strike the blow. Various consultations were held by Picsco with his confidants, in order to settle the manner of doing it with the greatest certainty and effect. At first, they proposed to murder the Dorias and their chief adherents, during the celebration of high mass in the principal church ; but as Andrew was often absent from religious solemnities, on account of his great age, that design was laid aside. It was then concerted that Piesco should invite the uncle and nephew, with all their friends wdiom he had marked out as victims, to his house, where it would be easy to cut them off" at once without danger or resistance ; but as Giannetino was obliged to leave the town VOL. II. o 194 ASSE^IBLIKG OF THE CONSPIEATOES. [book vm. on the day wliicli they had chosen, it became necessary likewise to alter this plan. They at last determined to attempt by open force what they found difficult to effect by stratagem, and fixed on the night between the second and tliird of January for the execution of their enterprise. The time was chosen with great propriety; for as the doge of the former year was to quit his office, according to custom, on the first of the month, and his successor could not be elected sooner than the fourth, the republic remained during tliat interval in a sort of anarchy, and Fiesco might with less violence take possession of the vacant dignity. The morning of that day, Fiesco employed in visiting his friends, passing some hours among them, Avith a spirit as gay and unembarrassed as at other times. Towards evening he paid court to the Dorias with his usual marks of respect, and, surveying their countenance and behaviour with the attention natural in his situation, was happy to observe the perfect security in which they remained, without the least foresight or dread of that storm which had been so long a gathering, and was now ready to burst over their heads. From their palace he hastened to his own, which stood by itself in the middle of a large court, surrounded by a high wall. Tlie gates had been set open in the morning, and all persons, without distinction, were allowed to enter, but strong guards posted within the court suffered no one to return. Verrina, meanwhile, and a few persons trusted with the secret of the conspiracy, after conducting Fiesco's vassals, as well as the crews of his galleys, into the palace in small bodies, with as little noise as possible, dispersed themselves through the city, and, in the name of their patron, invited to an entertainment the principal citizens whom they knew to be disgusted with the administration of the Dorias, and to have inclination as wcW as courage to attempt a change in the government. Of the vast number of persons who now filled the palace, a few only knew for what purpose they were assembled ; the rest, TjooK vni.] FIESCO'S EXHORTATIONS TO THEM. 195 astonished at finding, instead of the preparations for a feast, a court crowded with armed men, and apartments filled with the instruments of war, gazed on each other with a mixture of curiosity, impatience, and terror. While their minds were in this state of suspense and agitation, Fiesco appeared. With a look full of alacrity and confidence, he addressed himself to the persons of chief distinction, telling them, that they were not now called to partake of the pleasure of an entertainment, but to join in a deed of valour, which would lead them to liberty and immortal renown. He set before their eyes the exorbitant as well as intolerable authority of the elder Doria, which the ambition of Giannetino, and the partiality of the emperor to a family more devoted to him than to their country, was about to enlarge and to render perpetual. " This unrighteous dominion," continued he, " you have it noAV in your power to subvert, and to establish the freedom of your country on a firm basis. The tyrants must be cut off. I have taken the most effectual measures for this purpose. My associates are numerous. I can depend on allies and protectors if necessary. Happily, the tyrants are as secure as I have been provident. Their insolent contempt of their country- men has banished the suspicion and timidity which usually render the guilty quick-sighted to discern, as well as sagacious to guard against, the vengeance which they deserve. They will now feel the blow, before they suspect any hostile hand to be nigh. Let us, then, sally forth, that we may deliver our country by one generous effort, almost unaccompanied with danger, and certain of success." These words, uttered with that irresistible fervour which animates the mind when roused by great objects, made the desired impression on the audience. Fiesco's vassals, ready to execute whatever their master should command, received his discourse with a murmur of applause. To many, whose fortimes were desperate, the licence and confusion of an insurrection afforded an agreeable prospect. Those of o2 196 FIESCO'S INTEEYIEW WITH HIS WIPE. [bookviii- higher rank, and more vh'tuous senthuents, durst not dis- cover the surprise or horror with which they were struck at the proposal of an enterprise no less unexpected than atrocious : as each of them imao;ined the other to be in the secret of the conspiracy, and saw himself surrounded by persons who waited only a signal from their leader to per- petrate the greatest crime. With one voice, then, all ap- plauded, or feigned to applaud, the undertaking. Fiesco having thus fixed and encouraged his associates, before he gave them his last orders, he hastened for a moment to the apartment of his wife, a lady of the noble house of Cibo, whom he loved with tender affection, and whose beauty and virtue rendered her worthy of his love. The noise of the armed men who crowded the court and l)alace, having long before this reached her ears, she con- cluded some hazardous enterprise to be in hand, and she trembled for her husband. He found her in all the anguish of uncertainty and fear ; and, as it was noW' impos- sible to keejo his design concealed, he informed her of what he had undertaken. The prospect of a scene so full of horror, as w^ell as danger, completed her agony ; and fore- boding immediately in her mind the fatal issue of it, she endeavoured by her tears, her entreaties, and her despair, to divert him from his purpose. Fiesco, after trying in vain to soothe and to inspire her with hope, broke from a situation into wliich an excess of tenderness had unwarily seduced him, though it could not shake his resolution. " Farewell ! " he cried, as he quitted the apartment ; " you shall cither never see me more, or you shall behold to- morrow everything in Genoa subject to your power." As soon as he rejoined his companions, he allotted each his proper station ; some were appointed to assault and seize the different gates of the city ; some to make them- selves masters of the ])rincipal streets or places of strength : Fiesco reserved for himself the attack of the harbour where Doria's galleys were laid up, as the post of chief import- BOOKViii.] ATTACK ON THE CITY. 197 ance, and of greatest danger. It was now midniglit, and the citizens slept in the security of peace, when this band of conspirators, numerons, desperate, and well armed, rushed out to execute their plan. They surprised some of the gates, without meeting with any resistance. They got possession of others, after a sharp conflict with the soldiers on guard. Verrina, with the galley which had been fitted out against the Turks, blocked up the mouth of the Dar- sena, or little harbour where Doria's fleet lay. All possi- bility of escape being cut off by this precaution, when Fiesco attempted to enter the galleys from the shore, to which they were made fast, they were in no condition to make resistance, as they were not only unrigged and disarmed, but had no crew on board, except the slaves chained to the oar. Every quarter of the city was now filled with noise and tumult, all the streets resounding with the cry of "Fiesco ! " and '' Liherti/ ! " At that name, so popular and beloved, many of the lower rank took arms, and joined the conspirators. The nobles and partisans of the aristocracy, astonished or affrighted, shut the gates of their houses, and thought of nothing but of securing them from pillage. At last, the noise excited by this scene of violence and confusion reached the palace of Doria. Gian- netino started immediately from his bed, and, imagining that it was occasioned by some mutiny among the sailors, rushed out with a few attendants, and hurried towards the harbour. The gate of St. Thomas, through which he had to pass, was already in possession of the conspirators, who, the moment he appeared, fell upon him with the utmost fury, and murdered him on the spot. The same must have been the fate of the elder Doria, if Jerome de Fiesco had executed his brother's plan, and had proceeded immediately to attack him in his palace : but he, from the sordid con- sideration of preventing its being plundered amidst the confusion, having forbid his followers to advance, Andrew got intelligence of his nephew's death, as well as of his own 198 DEATH OF FIESCO. [book viii. danger; and, mounting on horseback, saved himself by flight. Amidst this general consternation, a few senators had the courage to assemble in the palace of the republic/^ At first, some of the most daring among them attempted to rally the scattered soldiers, and to attack a body of the conspirators ; but, being repulsed with loss, all agreed that nothing now remained but to treat with the party which seemed to be irresistible. Deputies were accordingly sent to learn of Fiesco what were the concessions with which he would be satisfied, or rather to submit to whatever terms he should please to prescribe. But by this time Fiesco, with whom they were empowered to negotiate, was no more. Just as he was about to leave the harbour, where everything had succeeded to his wish, that he might join his victorious companions, he heard some extraordinary uproar on board the admiral's galley. Alarmed at the noise, and fearing that the slaves might break their chains, and overpower his associates, he ran thither ; but the plank which reached from the shore to the vessel happening to overturn, he fell into the sea, whilst he hurried forward too precipitately. Being loaded with heavy armour, he sunk to the bottom, and perished in the very moment when he must have taken full possession of everything that his ambitious heart could desire. Verrina was the first who discovered this fatal accident, and foreseeing at once all its consequences, concealed it Avith the utmost industry from every one but a few leaders of the conspiracy. Nor was it difficult amidst the darkness and confusion of the night, to have kept it secret, until a treaty with the senators should have put the city in the power of the conspirators. All their hopes of this were disconcerted by the imi)rudcncc of Jerome Fiesco, who, when the deputies of the senate incjuircd for his brother, the count of Lavagna, that they might make their proposal to him, replied with a childish vanity, " I am now the only ■•' II palazzo (lelhi signoria. BOOKViii.] FAILURE OF THE CONSPIRACY. 199 person to whom that title belongs, and with me you must treat." These words discovered, as well to his friends as to his enemies, what had happened, and made the impres- sion which might have been expected upon both. The deputies, encouraged by this event, the only one which could occasion such a sudden revolution as might turn to their advantage, assumed instantly, with admirable presence of mind, a new tone, suitable to the change in their circumstances, and made high demands. While they endeavoured to gain time by protracting the negotiation, the rest of the senators were busy in assembling their partisans, and in forming a body capable of defending the palace of the republic. On the other hand, the conspirators, astonished at the death of a man whom they adored and trusted, and placing no confidence in Jerome, a giddy youth, felt their courage die away, and their arms fall from their hands. That profound and amazing secrecy with which the conspiracy had been concerted, and which had contributed hitherto so much to its success, proved now the chief cause of its miscarriage. The leader was gone ; the greater part of those who acted under him knew not his confidants, and were strangers to the object at which he aimed. There was no person among them whose authority or abilities entitled him to assume Fiesco's place, or to finish his plan : after having lost the spirit which animated it, life and activity deserted the whole body. Many of the conspirators withdrew to their houses, hoping that, amidst the darkness of the night, they had passed unobserved, and might remain unknown. Others sought for safety by a timely retreat ; and, before break of day, most of them fled with precipitation from a city, which, but a few hours before, was ready to acknowledge them as masters. Next morning everything was cpiict in Genoa ; not an enemy was to be seen ; few marks of the violence of the former night appeared, the conspirators having conducted their enterprise with more noise than bloodshed, and gained 200 THE E:MPER0R, ALAIl]\IED, SUSPENDS [bookyiii. all tlieir advantages by surprise, rather than by force of arms. Towards evening Andrew Doria returned to the city, being met by all the inhabitants, who received him with acclamations of joy. Though the disgrace as well as danger of the preceding night were fresh in his mind, and the mangled body of his kinsman still before his eyes, such was his moderation as well as magnanimity, that the decree issued by the senate against the conspirators did not exceed that just measure of severity which was requisite for the support of government, and was dictated neither by the violence of resentment nor the rancour of revenge.*^ After taking the necessary precautions for preventing the flame which w\^s now so happily extinguished from breaking out anew, the first care of the senate was to send an ambassador to the emperor, to give him a particular detail of what had happened, and to beg his assistance towards the reduction of Montobbio, a strong fort on the hereditary estate of the Fiesci, in which Jerome had shut himself up. Charles was no less alarmed than astonished at an event so strange and unexpected. He could not believe that Fiesco, how bold or adventurous soever, durst have attempted such an enterprise, but on foreign sug- gestion, and from the hope of foreign aid. Being informed that the duke of Parma was well acquainted with the plan of the conspirators, he immediately supposed that the pope could not be ignorant of a measure which his son had countenanced. I'roceeding from this to a farther conjecture, which Paul's cautious maxims of policy in other instances rendered extremely probable, he concluded that the French king must have known and approved of the design ; and he ■" Tliuan. p. 93. Sigonii Vita An- containing such a discovery of his ad- drcffi Doriaj, ll'JG. La Conjuration miration of Eicsco and his enterprise, du Comtc dc Fiesque, par le Cardin. as renders it not surprising that a de lletz. Adrian!, Istoria, lib. vi. p. minister so jealous and discerning as 360. Folietffi Conjuratio Jo. Lud. Hirliclieu, sliould bo led, by the perusal Fiesci, ap. (jnev. Tiics. Ital. i. SS3. of it, to predict the turbulent ami It is rc!narkal)le, that cardinal dc dangerous spirit of that young ccclc- Retz, at the age of eighteen, com- siastic. Mom. dc llelz, toin. i. ji. 13. posed a history of this conspiracy, BOOK VIII.] HIS OPERATIONS IN GERMANY. 201 began to apprehend that this spark might again kindle the flame of war which had raged so long in Italy. As he had drained his Italian territories of troops on account of the German war, he was altogether unprovided for resisting any hostile attack in that country; and, on the first appear- ance of danger, he must have detached thither the greatest part of his forces for its defence. In this situation of aftairs, it would have been altogether imprudent in the emperor to have advanced in person against the elector, until he should learn, with some degree of certainty, whether such a scene were not about to open in Italy as might put it out of his power to keep the field with an army sufficient to oppose him. THE HISTOEY OF THE REIGN EMPEROE CHAELES V. BOOK IX. Francis, jealous of the Emperor, endeavours to form Alliances against bim— > Death of Francis — The Emperor marches against the Elector of Saxony — Battle of Mulhausen — The Elector taken Pi'isoner — Charles invests Wittem- berg — His ungenerous Treatment of the Elector — Maurice put in Possession of the Electoral Dominions — The Emperor treacherously detains the Land- grave as a Prisoner — His Rigour towards his German Subjects — Ferdinand's Tyranny in Bohemia — Diet at Augsburg — The Council translated from Trent to Bologna — Assassination of the Pope's Son — The Pope's Dread of the Emperor — Contest as to the Place of Session of the Council — Compliance with " The Interim " enforced by the Emperor — The Pope dismisses the Council assembled at Bologna — The Emperor receives his Son Philip in the Low Countries. The emperor's dread of the hostile intentions of the pope and French king did not proceed from any imaginary or ill-grounded suspicion. Paul had already given the strongest proofs, both of his jealousy and enmity. Charles could not hope that Francis, after a rivalship of so long continuance, would behold the great advantages which he had gained over the confederate protestants, without feeling his ancient emulation revive. He was not deceived in this conjecture. Francis had observed the ra])id ])ro- gress of his arms with deep concern, and though hitherto prevented, by circumstances which have been mentioned, BOOK IX.] FRANCIS'S COMBINATIONS AGAINST CHAELES. 203 from interposing in order to check them, he was now con- vinced that, if he did not make some extraordinary and timely effort, Charles must acquire such a degree of power as would enable him to give law to the rest of Europe. This apprehension, which did not take its rise from the jealousy of rivalship alone, but was entertained by the wisest politicians of the age, suggested various expedients which might serve to retard the course of the emperor's victories, and to form by degrees such a combination against him as might put a stop to his dangerous career. With this view, Francis instructed his emissaries in Ger- many to employ all their address in order to revive the courage of the confederates, and to prevent them from submitting to the emperor. lie made liberal offers of his assistance to the elector and landgrave, whom he knew to be the most zealous, as well as the most powerful, of the whole body ; he used every argument, and proposed every advantaofe, which could either confirm their dread of the emperor's designs, or determine them not to imitate the in- considerate credulity of their associates, in giving up their religion and liberties to his disposal. While he took this step towards continuing the civil Avar which raged in Ger- many, he endeavoured likewise to stir up foreign enemies against the emperor. He solicited Solyman to seize this favourable opportunity of invading Hungary, which had been drained of all the troops necessary for its defence, in order to form the army against the confederates of Smalkalde. He exhorted the pope to repair, by a vigorous and seasonable effort, the error of which he had been guilty in contributing to raise the emperor to such a formidable height of power. Finding Paul, both from the consciousness of his own mis- take, and his dread of its consequences, abundantly disposed to listen to what he suggested, he availed himself of this favourable disposition which the pontiff began to discover, as an argument to gain the Venetians. He endeavoured to convince them that nothing could save Italy, and even 204 FRANCIS'S CO]MBINATIONS AGAINST CHARLES, [bookix. Europe, from oppression and servitude, but their joining Avith the pope and him, in giving the first beginning to a general confederacy, in order to humble that ambitious potentate, whom they had all equal reason to dread. Having set on foot these negotiations in the southern courts, he turned his attention next towards those in the north of Europe. As the king of Denmark had particular reasons to be offended with the emperor, Erancis imagined that the object of the league which he had projected would be highly acceptable to him ; and, lest considerations of caution or prudence should restrain him from joining in it, he attempted to overcome these, by offering him the young queen of Scots in marriage to his son.' As the ministers who governed England in the name of Edward VI. had openly declared themselves converts to the opinions of the reformers, as soon as it became safe upon Henry's death to lay aside that disguise which his intolerant bigotry had forced them to assume, Erancis flattered himself that their zeal would not allow them to remain inactive spectators of the overthrow and destruction of those who professed the same faith with themselves. He hoped that, notwithstanding the struggles of faction incident to a minority, and the prospect of an approaching rupture with the Scots, he might prevail on them likewise to take part in the common cause. ^ While Erancis cmi)loyed such a variety of expedients, and exerted himself with such extraordinary activity to rouse tlie different states of Europe against his rival, he did not neglect what depended on himself alone. He levied troops in all parts of his dominions ; he collected military stores ; he contracted with the Swiss cantons for a considerable body of men ; he put his finances in admirable order; he remitted considerable sums to the elector and landgrave; and took all the other steps necessary towards commencing hostilities, on tlic shortest warning, and with the greatest vigour.^ Operations so complicated, and which required the ' M^-m. dc Ribicr, torn. i. pp. GOO, GOG. ' Ibid. p. G35. ^ Ibid. p. 595. BOOK IX.] ALARM or THE EMPEROR. 205 putting so many instruments in motion, did not escape the emperor's observation. He was early informed of Francis's intrigues in the several courts of Europe, as well as of his domestic preparations ; and, sensible how fatal an interrup- tion a foreign war would prove to his designs in Germany, he trembled at the prospect of that event. The danger, however, appeared to him as unavoidable as it was great. He knew the insatiable and well-directed ambition of Solyman, and that he always chose the season for begin- ning his military enterprises with prudence equal to the valour with which he conducted them. The pope, as he had good reason to believe, wanted not pretexts to justify a rupture, or inclination to begin hostilities. He had already made some discovery of his sentiments, by express- ing a joy altogether unbecoming the head of the church, upon receiving an account of the advantage which the elector of Saxony had gained over Albert of Brandenburg ; and as he was now secure of finding, in the French king, an ally of sufficient power to support him, he was at no pains to conceal the violence and extent of his enmity.* The Venetians, Charles was well assured, had long observed the growth of his power with jealousy, which, added to the solicitations and promises of France, might at last quicken their slow councils, and overcome their natural caution. The Danes and English, it was evident, had both peculiar reason to be disgusted, as well as strong motives to act against him. But above all, he dreaded the active emula- tion of Francis himself, whom he considered as the soul and mover of any confederacy that could be formed against him ; and, as that monarch had afforded protection to Verrina, who sailed directly to Marseilles upon the mis- carriage of Fiesco's conspiracy, Charles expected every moment to see the commencement of those hostile opera- tions in Italy, of which he conceived the insurrection in Genoa to have been only the prelude. * Mem. de Ribicr, torn i. p. 637. 206 DEATH or FRANCIS.' [bookix. But while he remained in this state of suspense and soUcitude, there was one circumstance which aftbrded him some prospect of escaping the danger. The French king's health began to decline. A disease, which was the effect of his inconsiderate pursuit of pleasure, preyed gradually on his constitution. The preparations for war, as well as the negotiations in the different courts, began to languish, together with the monarch who gave spirit to both. The Genoese, during that interval, reduced Montobbio, took Jerome Eiesco prisoner, and putting him to death, together with his chief adherents, extinguished all remains of the conspiracy. Several of the imperial cities in Germany, despairing of timely assistance from France, submitted to the emperor. Even the landgrave seemed disposed to abandon the elector, and to bring matters to a speedy accommodation, on such terms as he could obtain. In the meantime, Charles waited with impatience the issue of a distemper, which was to decide whether he must relinquish all other schemes, in order to prepare for resisting a com- bination of the greater part of Europe against him, or whether he might proceed to invade Saxony, without inter- ruption or fear of danger. The good fortune, so remarkably propitious to his family, that some historians have called it the star of the house of Austria, did not desert him on this occasion. Francis died at Rambouillet, on the last day of March, in the fifty-third year of liis age, and the thirty-third of his reign. During twenty-eight years of that time, an avowed rivalship sub- sisted between him and the emperor, which involved not only their own dominions, but the greater part of Europe, in wars, which were prosecuted with more violent animosity, and drawn out to a greater length, than had been known in any former period. Many circumstances contributed to this. Their animosity was founded in opposition of interest, hciglitcned by p(;rsonal emulation, and exasperated not only by mutual injuries, but by reciprocal insults. At the BOOK IX.] REFLECTIONS ON HIS CHARACTER. same time, wliatever advantage one seemed to possess towards gaining the ascendant, was wonderfully balanced by some favourable circumstance peculiar to the other. The emperor's dominions were of greater extent, the French king's lay more compact ; Francis governed his kingdom with absolute power ; that of Charles was limited, but he supplied the want of authority by address : the troops of the former were more impetuous and enterprising; those of the latter better disciplined and more patient of fatigue. The talents and abilities of the two monarchs were as different as the advantages which they possessed, and contributed no less to prolong the contest between them. Francis took his resolutions suddenly, prosecuted them at first with warmth, and pushed them into execution with a most adventurous courage ; but being destitute of the perseverance necessary to surmount difficulties, he often abandoned his designs, or relaxed the vigour of pursuit from impatience, and sometimes from levity. Charles deli- berated long, and determined with coolness; but having once fixed his plan, he adhered to it with inflexible ob- stinacy, and neither danger nor discouragement could turn him aside from the execution of it. The success of their enterprises was suitable to the diversity of their characters, and was uniformly influenced by it. Francis, by his impetuous activity, often disconcerted the emperor's best- laid schemes ; Charles, by a more calm but steady prosecu- tion of his designs, checked tlie rapidity of his rival's career, and baflled or repulsed his most vigorous efforts. The former, at the opening of a war or of a campaign, broke in upon his enemy with the violence of a torrent, and carried all before him ; the latter, waiting until he saw the force of his rival begin to abate, recovered in the end not only all that he had lost, but made new acquisitions. Few of the French monarch's attempts towards conquest, whatever promising aspect they might wear at first, were conducted to a happy issue ; many of the emperor's enter- 208 COMPARISON BETWEEN [book ix. prises, even after tliey appeared desperate and impracticable, terminated in the most prosperous manner. Francis was dazzled with the splendour of an undertaking ; Charles was allured by the prospect of its turning to his advantage. The degree, however, of their comparative merit and reputation has not been fixed, either by a strict scrutiny into their abilities for government, or by an impartial con- sideration of the greatness and success of their under- takings ; and Francis is one of those monarchs who occupies a higher rank in the temple of fame than either his talents or performances entitle him to hold. This pre- eminence he owed to many different circumstances. The superiority which Charles acquired by the victory of Pavia, and which from that period he preserved through the remainder of his reign, was so manifest, that Francis's struggle against his exorbitant and growing dominion was viewed, by most of the other powers, not only with the partiality which naturally arises for those who gal- lantly maintain an unequal contest, but with the favour due to one who was resisting a common enemy, and endea- vouring to set bounds to a monarch equally formidable to them all. The characters of princes, too, especially among their contemporaries, depend not only upon their talents for government, but upon their qualities as men. Francis, notwithstanding the many errors conspicuous in his foreign policy and domestic administration, was nevertheless humane, beneficent, generous. He possessed dignity without pride, affiibility free from meanness, and courtesy exempt from deceit. All who had access to him, and no man of merit was ever denied that privilege, respected and loved him. Captivated with his personal qualities, his subjects forgot his defects as a monarch; and, admiring him as the most accomj)lished and amiable gentleman in his dominions, they liardly nuinnured at acts of mal-administration, which, in a prince of less engaging dis])ositions, would have been deemed unpardonable. This admiration, liowever, must BOOK IX.] FRANCIS AND CHARLES. 209 have been temporary only, and would have died away with the courtiers who bestowed it; the illusion arising from his private virtues must have ceased, and posterity would have judged of his public conduct with its usual impar- tiality; but another circumstance prevented this, and his name hath been transmitted to posterity with increasing reputation. Science and the arts had, at that time, made little progress in France. They were just beginning to advance beyond the limits of Italy, where they hud revived, and which had hitherto been their only seat. Francis took them immediately under his protection, and vied with Leo himself in the zeal and munificence with w^hich he encou- raged them. He invited learned men to his court, he con- versed with them familiarly, he employed them in business, he raised them to offices of dignity, and honoured them with his confidence. That order of men, not more prone to complain when denied the respect to which they con- ceive themselves entitled, than apt to be pleased when treated with the distinction which they consider as their due, thought they could not exceed in gratitude to such a benefactor, and strained their invention, and employed all their ingenuity in panegyric. Succeeding authors, warmed with their descriptions of Francis's bounty, adopted their encomiums, and even added to them. The appellation of father of letters, bestowed upon Francis, hath rendered his memory sacred among historians ; and they seem to have regarded it as a sort of impiety to uncover his infirmities, or to point out his defects. Thus Francis, notwithstanding his inferior abilities and want of success, hath more than equalled the fame of Charles. The good qualities which he possessed as a man, have entitled him to greater admi- ration and praise than have been bestowed upon the extensive genius and fortunate arts of a more capable but less amiable rival. By his death a considerable change was made in the state of Europe. Charles, grown old in the arts of govern- VOL. II. P 210 THE EMPEROR ^lAHCHES AGAINST [bookix. ment and command, had now to contend only with j^ounger monarchs, who could not be regarded as worthy to enter the lists with him, who had stood so many encounters with Henry VIIL and Francis I., and come off with honour in all these different struggles. By this event he was eased of all disquietude, and was happy to find that he might begin with safety those operations against the elector of Saxony, which he had hitherto been obliged to suspend. He knew the abilities of Henry H., who had just mounted the throne of France, to be greatly inferior to those of his father, and foresaw that he would be so much occupied for some time in displacing the late king's ministers, whom he hated, and in gratifying the ambitious demands of his own favourites, that he had nothing to dread, either from his personal efforts, or from any confederacy which this unexperienced prince could form. But as it was uncertain how long such an interval of security might continue, Charles determined instantly to improve it ; and as soon as he heard of Francis's demise, he began his march from Egra on the borders of Bohemia. But the departure of the papal troops, together wath the retreat of the Flemings, had so much diminished his army, that sixteen thousand men were all he could assemble. With this inconsiderable body he set out on an expedition, the event of which was to decide what degree of authority he should possess from that period in Germany; but as this little army consisted chiefly of the veteran Spanish and Italian bands, he did not, in trusting to them, commit much to the decision of chance ; and even with so small a force he had reason to entertain the most sanguine hopes of success. The elector had levied an army greatly superior in number; but neither the experience and discipline of his troops, nor the abilities of his officers, w^ere to be compared with those of the emperor. The elector, besides, had already been guilty of an error, which deprived him of all the advantage which he might have derived from his supe- BOOK IX.] THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 2U riority in number, and was alone sufficient to have occa- sioned his ruin. Instead of keeping liis forces united, he detached one great body towards the frontiers of Bohemia, in order to facilitate his junction with the malecontents of that kingdom, and cantoned a considerable part of what remained in different places of Saxony, where he expected the emperor would make his first impression, vainly imagin- ing that open towns with small garrisons might be rendered tenable against an enemy. The emperor entered the southern frontier of Saxony, and attacked Altorf upon the Elster. The impropriety of the measure which the elector had taken was immediately seen, the troops posted in that town surrendering without resistance ; and those in all the other places between that and the Elbe either imitated their example, or fled as the imperialists approached. Charles, that they might not recover from the panic with which they seemed to be struck, advanced without losing a moment. The elector, who had fixed his head-quarters at Meissen, continued in his wonted state of fluctuation and uncertainty. He even became more undetermined, in proportion as the danger drew near, and called for prompt and decisive resolutions. Sometimes he acted as if he had resolved to defend the banks of the Elbe, and to hazard a battle with the enemy, as soon as the detachments which he had called in were able to join him. At other times he abandoned this as rash and perilous, seeming to adopt the more prudent counsels of those who advised him to endeavour at protracting the war, and for that end to retire under the fortifications of Wit- temberg, where the imperialists could not attack him with- out manifest disadvantage, and where he might wait in safety for the succours which he expected from Mecklen- burg, Pomerania, and the protestant cities on the Baltic. Without fixing upon either of these plans, he broke down the bridge at Meissen, and marched along the east bank of the Elbe to Muhlberg. There he deliberated anew, and, p 2 212 PROGRESS OF THE E:MPER0R. [bookix. after much hesitation, adopted one of those middle schemes which are always acceptable to feeble minds incapable of deciding. He left a detachment at Muhlberg to oppose the imperialists, if they should attempt to pass at that place, and advancing a few miles with his main body, encamped there in expectation of the event, according to which he proposed to regulate his subsequent motions. Charles, meanwhile, pushing forward incessantly, arrived the evening of the twenty-third of April on the banks of the Elbe, opposite to Muhlberg. The river, at that place, was three hundred paces in breadth, above four feet in depth, its current rapid, and the bank possessed by the Saxons was higher than that which he occupied. Undis- mayed, however, by all these obstacles, he called together his general officers, and, without asking their opinion, commu- nicated to them his intention of attempting next morning to force his passage over the river, and to attack the enemy wherever he could come up with them. They all expressed their astonishment at such a bold resolution ; and even the duke of Alva, though naturally daring and impetuous, and Maurice of Saxony, notwithstanding his impatience to crush his rival the elector, remonstrated earnestly against it. But the emperor, confiding in his own judgment or good fortune, paid no regard to their arguments, and gave the orders necessary for executing his design. Early in the morning a body of Spanish and Italian foot marched towards the river, and began an incessant fire upon the enemy. The long heavy muskets used in that age did execution on the opposite bank, and many of the soldiers, hurried on by a martial ardour in order to get nearer the enemy, rushed into the stream, and, advancing breast-high, fired with a more certain aim, and with greater effect. Under cover of their fire, a bridge of boats was begim to be laid for the infantry ; and a peasant having undertaken to conduct the cavalry through the river by a ford with which he was well acquainted, tlicy also were iooKix.] HE PASSES TIIE ELBE. 213 put in motion. The Saxons posted in Mulilberg endea- voured to obstruct these operations, by a brisk fire from a battery which tliey had erected ; but as a thick fog covered all the low grounds upon the river, they could not take aim with any certainty, and the imperialists suffered very little ; at the same time, the Saxons being much galled by the Spaniards and Italians, they set on fire some boats which had been collected near the village, and prepared to retire. The imperialists perceiving this, ten Spanish soldiers instantly stripped themselves, and holding their swords with their teeth, swam across the river, put to flight such of the Saxons as ventured to oppose them, saved from the flames as many boats as were sufficient to com- plete their own bridge, and by this spirited and successful action, encouraged their companions no less than they intimidated the enemy. By this time, the cavalry, each trooper having a foot soldier beside him, began to enter the river, the light horse marching in front, followed by the men-at-arms, whom the emperor led in person, mounted on a Spanish horse, dressed in a sumptuous habit, and carrying a javelin in his hand. Such a numerous body struggling through a great river, in which, according to the directions of their guide, they were obliged to make several turns, sometimes treading on a firm bottom, sometimes swimming, presented to their companions whom they left behind, a spectacle equally magnificent and interesting.^ Their courage, at last, surmounted every ob- stacle, no man betraying any symptom of fear, when the emperor shared in the danger no less than the meanest soldier. The moment that they reached the opposite side, Charles, without waiting the arrival of the rest of the infantry, advanced towards the Saxons with the troops which had passed along with him, who, flushed with their good fortune and despising an enemy who had neglected to oppose them, when it might have been done with such advantage, made no * Avila, p. 115, a. 214 ILL CONDUCT OF THE ELECTOR. [book ix. account of their superior numbers, and marched on as to a certain victory. During all these operations, which necessarily consumed much time, the elector remained inactive in his camp ; and from an infatuation which appears to be so amazing, that the best-informed historians impute it to the treacherous arts of his generals, who deceived him by false intelligence, he would not believe that the emperor had passed the river, or could be so near at hand.^ Being convinced, at last, of his fatal mistake, by the concurring testimony of eye-wit- nesses, he gave orders for retreating towards Wittemberg. But a German army, encumbered, as usual, with baggage and artillery, could not be put suddenly in motion. They had just begun to march, when the light troops of the enemy came in view, and the elector saw an engagement to be unavoidable. As he was no less bold in action than irre- solute in council, he made the disposition for battle with the greatest presence of mind, and in the most proper manner; taking advantage of a great forest to cover his wings, so as to prevent his being surrounded by the enemy's cavalry, which were far more numerous than his own. The emperor, likewise, ranged his men in order as they came up, and riding along the ranks, exhorted them with few but efficacious words to do their duty. It was with a very different spirit that the two armies advanced to the charge. As the day, which had hitherto been dark and cloudy, happened to clear up at that moment, this accidental cir- cumstance made an impression on the different parties corresponding to the tone of their minds : the Saxons, surprised and disheartened, felt pain at being exposed fully to the view of the enemy ; the imperialists, being now secure that the protestant forces could not escape from them, rejoiced at the return of sunshine as a certain presage of victory. Tlie shock of battle would not have been long doubtful, if the personal courage which the elector dis- " Camerar. ap. Trehcr. iii. 403. Struv. Corp. Hist. Germ. pp. 1017, 1049. BOOK IX.] BATTLE OF MULHAUSEN. 215 played, together with the activity which he exerted from the moment that the approach of the enemy rendered an engagement certain, and cut off all possibility of hesitation, had not revived in some degree the spirit of his troops. They repulsed the Hungarian light-horse who began the attack, and received with firmness the men-at-arms who next advanced to the charge ; but as these were the flower of the imperial army, were commanded by experienced officers, and fought under the emperor's eye, the Saxons soon began to give way, and the light troops rallying at the same time, and falling on their flanks, the flight became general. A small body of chosen soldiers, among whom the elector had fought in person, still continued to defend themselves, and endeavoured to save their master by retiring into the forest; but being surrounded on every side, the elector, wounded in the face, exhausted with fatigue, and perceiving all resistance to be vain, surrendered himself a prisoner. He was conducted immediately towards the emperor, whom he found just returned from the pursuit, standing on the field of battle in the full exultation of success, and receiving the congratulations of his officers, upon this complete victory obtained by his valour and conduct. Even in such an unfortunate and humbling situation, the elector's behaviour was equally magnanimous and decent. Sensible of his condition, he approached his conqueror without any of the sullenness or pride which would have been improper in a captive ; and conscious of his own dignity, he descended to no mean submission, unbecoming the high station which he held among the German princes. "The fortune of war," said he, "has made me your prisoner, most gracious emperor, and I hope to be treated — " Here Charles harshly interrupted him : "And am I then, at last, acknowledged to be emperor? Charles of Ghent was the only title you lately allowed me. You shall be treated as you deserve." At these words he turned from him abruptly with a haughty air. To this 216 THE ELECTOR TAKEN PRISONER. [bookix. cruel repulse, the king of the Romans added reproaches in his own name, using expressions still more ungenerous and insulting. The elector made no reply ; but, with an un- altered countenance, wdiich discovered neither astonishment nor dejection, accompanied the Spanish soldiers appointed to guard him/ This decisive victory cost the imperialists only fifty men. Twelve hundred of the Saxons were killed, chiefly in the pursuit, and a greater number taken prisoners. About four hundred kept in a body, and escaped to Wittemberg, together with the electoral prince, who had likewise been wounded in the action. After resting two days on the field of battle, partly to refresh his army, and partly to receive the deputies of the adjacent towns, which were impatient to secure his protection by submitting to his will, the emperor began to move towards Wittemberg, that he might ter- minate the war at once by the reduction of that city. The unfortunate elector w^as carried along in a sort of triumph, and exposed everywhere, as a captive, to his own subjects ; a spectacle extremely afflicting to them, who both honoured and loved him ; though the insult was so far from subduing his firm spirit, that it did not even ruffle the wonted tran- quillity and composure of his mind. As Wittemberg, the residence, in that age, of the elec- toral branch of the Saxon family, was one of the strongest cities in Germany, and could not be taken, if properly defended, without great difficulty, the emperor marched thither with the utmost despatch, hoping that w'hile the consternation occasioned by his victory was still recent, the inhabitants migiit imitate the example of their countrymen, and submit to his power, as soon as he appeared before their walls. But Sybifla of Clevcs, the elector's wife, a woman no less distinguished by her abilities than her virtue, ' Slcid. IlisLp. 420. Tlman. p. ]3G. berg. ibid. p. 500. V. Ilcuter. Rer. Ilortniisiiis do ]kllo Gorm;in.ap. Scard. Auslr. lib. xii. c. 13, p. 298. vol. ii. J). 4'J8. Uescript. Pugiite Mulil- BOOK IX.] CHATILES INVESTS WITTEMBERG. 217 instead of abandoning herself to tears and lamentations upon her husband's misfortune, endeavoured, by her ex- ample, as well as exhortations, to animate the citizens. She inspired them with such resolution, that, when sum- moned to surrender, they returned a vigorous answer, \Yarning the emperor to behave towards their sovereign with the respect due to his rank, as they were determined to treat Albert of Brandenburg, who was still a prisoner, precisely in the same manner that he treated the elector. The spirit of the inhabitants, no less than the strength of the city, seemed now to render a siege in form necessary. After such a signal victory, it would have been disgraceful not to have undertaken it, though, at the same time, the emperor was destitute of everything requisite for carrying it on. But Maurice removed all difficulties, by engaging to furnish provisions, artillery, ammunition, pioneers, and whatever else should be needed. Trusting to this, Charles gave orders to open the trenches before the town. It quickly appeared, that Maurice's eagerness to reduce the capital of those dominions, which he expected as his reward for taking arms against his kinsman, and deserting the protestant cause, had led him to promise what exceeded his power to perform. A battering train was, indeed, carried safely down the Elbe from Dresden to Wittemberg ; but as Maurice had not sufficient force to preserve a secure com- munication between his own territories and the camp of the besiegers. Count Mansfeldt, who commanded a body of electoral troops, intercepted and destroyed a convoy of provisions and military stores, and dispersed a band of pioneers destined for the service of the imperialists. This put a stop to the progress of the siege, and convinced the emperor, that, as he could not rely on Maurice's promises, recourse ought to be had to some more expeditious as well as more certain method of getting possession of the town. The unfortunate elector was in his hands, and Charles 218 THE EMPEROR'S UNGENEROUS [bookix. was "ungenerous and hard-hearted enough to take advan- tage of this, in order to make an experiment whether he might not bring about his design, by working upon the tenderness of a wife for her husband, or upon the piety of children towards their parent. With this view, he sum- moned Sybilla a second time to open the gates, letting her know that if she again refused to comply, the elector should answer with his head for her obstinacy. To convince her that this was not an empty threat, he brought his prisoner to an immediate trial. The proceedings against him were as irregular as the stratagem was barbarous. Instead of consulting the states of the empire, or remitting the cause to any coiu-t, which, according to the German constitution, might have legally taken cognisance of the elector's crime, he subjected the greatest prince in the empire to the jm'is- diction of a court-martial, composed of Spanish and Italian officers [May 10], and in which the unrelenting duke of Alva, a fit instrument for any act of violence, presided. This strange tribunal founded its charge upon the ban of the empire, which had been issued against the prisoner by the sole authority of the emperor, and was destitute of every legal formality which could render it valid. But the court-martial presuming the elector to be thereby mani- festly convicted of treason and rebellion, condemned him to suffer death by being beheaded. This decree was inti- mated to the elector while he was amusing himself in playing at chess with Ernest of Brunswick, his fellow- prisoner. He paused for a moment, though without dis- covering any symptom either of surprise or terror; and after taking notice of the irregularity as well as injustice of the emperor's proceedings, " It is easy," continued he, " to comprehend his scheme. I must die, because Wittemberg will not surrender; and I shall lay down my life with j)lcasure, if, by that sacrifice, I can preserve the dignity of my house, and transmit to my posterity the inheritance which belongs to them. Would to God, that this sentence BOOK IX.] TREATMENT OF TlIE ELECTOR. 219 may not affect my wife and children more than it inti- midates me ; and that they, for the sake of adding a few days to a Hfe already too long, may not renounce honours and territories which they were born to possess!"* He then turned to his antagonist, whom he challenged to con- tinue the game. He played with his usual attention and ingenuity, and, having beat Ernest, expressed all the satis- faction which is commonly felt on gaining such victories. After this, he withdrew to his own apartment, that he might employ the rest of his time in such religious exercises as were proper in his situation.^ It was not with the same indifference, or composure, that the account of the elector's danger was received in Wittemberg. Sybilla, who had supported with such un- daunted fortitude her husband's misfortunes, while she imagined that they could reach no farther than to diminish his power or territories, felt all her resolution fail as soon as his life was threatened. Solicitous to save that, she despised every other consideration ; and was willing to make any sacrifice, in order to appease an incensed con- queror. At the same time, the duke of Cleves, the elector of Brandenburg, and Maurice, to none of whom Charles had communicated the true motives of his violent proceed- ings against the elector, interceded warmly with him to spare his life. The first was prompted to do so merely by compassion for his sister, and regard for his brother-in-law. The two others dreaded the universal reproach that they would incur, if, after having boasted so often of the ample security which the emperor had promised them with respect to their religion, the first effect of their union with him should be the public execution of a prince, who was justly held in reverence as the most zealous protector of the protestant cause. Maurice, in particular, foresaw that he must become the object of detestation to the Saxons, and could never hope to govern them with tranquillity, if he « Tbuan. i. 142. " Struvii Corpus, p. 1050. 220 THE ELECTOR SUERENDERS THE ELECTORATE, [book ix. were considered by them as accessory to the death of his nearest kinsman, in order that he might obtain possession of his dominions. While they, from such various motives, soHcited Charles, with the most earnest importunity, not to execute the sentence, Sybilla, and his children, conjured the elector, by letters as well as messengers, to scruple at no concession that would extricate him out of the present danger, and deliver them from their fears and anguish on his account. The emperor, perceiving that the expedient which he had tried began to produce the effect that he intended, fell by degrees from his former rigour, and allowed himself to soften into promises of clemency and forgiveness, if the elector would show himself worthy of his favour, by sub- mitting to reasonable terms. The elector, on whom the consideration of what he might suffer himself had made no impression, was melted by the tears of a wife whom he loved, and could not resist the entreaties of his family. In compliance with their repeated solicitations, he agreed to articles of accommodation, which he would otherwise have rejected with disdain. The chief of them were, that he should resign the electoral dignity, as well for himself as for his posterity, into the emperor's hands, to be disposed of entirely at his pleasure ; that he should instantly put the imperial troops in possession of the cities of Wittemberg and Gotha ; that he should set Albert of Brandenburg at liberty without ransom ; that he should submit to the decrees of the imperial chamber, and acquiesce in whatever reformation the emperor should make in the constitution of that court ; that he should renounce all leagues against the emperor or king of the Romans, and enter into no alliance for the future in which they were not comprehended. In return for these important concessions, the emperor not only promised to spare his life, l)ut to settle on him and his posterity the city of Gotha and its territories, together with an annual pension of fifty thousand florins, payable BOOK IX.] MAURICE TAKES POSSESSION OF SAXONY. 221 out of the revenues of the electorate ; and likewise to grant him a sum in ready money to be apphcd towards the discharge of his debts. Even these articles of grace were clogged with the mortifying condition of his remaining the emperor's prisoner during the rest of his life.'*^ To the whole, Charles had subjoined, that he should submit to the decrees of the pope and council with regard to the contro- verted points in religion ; but the elector, though he had been persuaded to sacrifice all the objects which men com- monly hold to be the dearest and most valuable, was inflexible with regard to this point ; and neither threats nor entreaties could prevail to make him renounce what he deemed to be truth, or persuade him to act in opposition to the dictates of his conscience. As soon as the Saxon garrison marched out of Wittem- berg, the emperor fulfilled his engagements to Maurice ; and, in reward for his merit in having deserted the pro- testant cause, and having contributed with such success towards the dissolution of the Smalkaldic league, he gave him possession of that city, together with all the other towns in the electorate. It was not without reluctance, however, that he made such a sacrifice ; the extraordinary success of his arms had begun to operate in its usual manner upon his ambitious mind, suggesting new and vast projects for the aggrandizement of his family, towards the accomplishment of which the retaining of Saxony would have been of the utmost consequence. But as this scheme was not then ripe for execution, he durst not yet venture to disclose it ; nor would it have been either safe or prudent to offend Maurice, at that juncture, by such a manifest violation of all the promises, which had seduced him to abandon his natural allies. The landgrave, Maurice's father-in-law, was still in arms ; and, though now left alone to maintain the pro- testant cause, was neither a feeble nor contemptible enemy. 1" Sleid. p. 427. Thuan. i. 142. Du Mont, Corps Diplom. iv. pp. 11, 332. 222 NEGOTIATIONS WITH THE LANDGRA^rE. [book ix. His dominions were of considerable extent; his subjects animated ^Yith zeal for the reformation ; and if he could have held the imperialists at bay for a short time, he had much to hope from a party whose strength v/as still un- broken, whose union as well as vigom' might return, and wliich had reason to depend, with certainty, on being eflPectually supported by the king of France. The landgrave thought not of anything so bold or adventurous ; but being seized with the same consternation which had taken pos- session of his associates, he was intent only on the means of procuring favourable terms from the emperor, whom he viewed as a conqueror to whose will there was a necessity of submitting. Maurice encouraged this tame and pacific spirit, by magnifying, on the one hand, the emperor's power ; by boasting, on the other, of his own interest with his victorious ally ; and by representing the advantageous conditions which he could not fail of obtaining by his intercession for a friend, whom he was so solicitous to save. Sometimes the landgrave was induced to place such un- bounded confidence in his promises, that he was impatient to bring matters to a final accommodation. On other occasions, the emperor's exorbitant ambition, restrained neither by the scruples of decency, nor the maxims of justice, together with the recent and shocking proof which he had given of this in his treatment of the elector of Saxony, came so full into his thoughts, and made such a lively impression on them, that he broke off abruptly the negotiations which he had begun ; seeming to be convinced that it was more prudent to depend for safety on his own arms, than to confide in Charles's generosity. But this bold resolution, which despair had suggested to an impa- tient spirit, fretted by disappointments, was not of long continuance. Upon a more deliberate survey of the enemy's power, as well as his own weakness, his doubts and fears returned upon him, and togetlicr with them the spirit of negotiating, and the desire of accommodation. BOOK IX.] CONDITIONS PRESCRIBED BY CHARLES. 223 Maurice, and the elector of Brandenburg, acted as mediators between him and the emperor; and after all that the former had vaunted of his influence, the condi- tions prescribed to the landgrave were extremely rigorous. The articles with regard to his renouncing the league of Smalkalde, acknowledging the emperor's authority, and submitting to the decrees of the imperial chamber, were the same which had been imposed on the elector of Saxony. Besides these, he was required to surrender his person and territories to the emperor; to implore for pardon on his knees ; to pay a hundred and fifty thousand crowns towards defraying the expenses of the war; to demolish the forti- fications of all the towns in his dominions except one ; to oblige the garrison which he placed in it to take an oath of fidelity to the emperor ; to allow a free passage through his territories to the imperial troops as often as it shall be demanded; to deliver up all his artillery and ammunition to the emperor ; to set at liberty, without ransom, Henry of Brunswick, together with the other prisoners whom he had taken during the war ; and neither to take arms himself, nor to permit any of his subjects to serve against the emperor or his allies for the future.'^ The landgrave ratified these articles, though with the utmost reluctance, as they contained no stipulation with regard to the manner in which he was to be treated, and left him entirely at the emperor's mercy. Necessity, how- ever, compelled him to give his assent to them. Charles, who had assumed the haughty and imperious tone of a conqueror ever since the reduction of Saxony, insisted on unconditional submission, and would permit nothing to be added to the terms which he had prescribed, that could in any degree limit the fulness of his power, or restrain him from behaving as he saw meet towards a prince whom he regarded as absolutely at his disposal. But though he would not vouchsafe to negotiate with the landgrave, on " Sleid. p. 430. Tliuan. lib. iv. p. 146. 224 THE LANDGRAVE'S SUSPICIONS OF CHARLES, [book ix. such a footing of equality, as to suffer any article to be inserted among those which he had dictated to him, that could be considered as a formal stipulation for the security and freedom of his person ; he, or his ministers in his name, gave the elector of Brandenburg and Maurice such full satisfaction with regard to this point, that they assured the landgrave that Charles would behave to him in the same way as he had done to the duke of Wurtemberg, and would allow him, whenever he had made his submission, to return to his own territories. Upon finding the land- grave to be still possessed with his former suspicions of the emperor's intentions, and unwilling to trust verbal or ambiguous declarations, in a matter of such essential con- cern as his own liberty, they sent him a bond, signed by them both, containing the most solemn obligations, that if any violence whatsoever was offered to his person, during his interview with the emperor, they would instantly sur- render themselves to his sons, and remain in their hands to be treated by them in the same manner as the emperor should treat him.^^ This, together with the indispensable obligation of per- forming what w^as contained in the articles, of which he had accepted, removed his doubts and scruples, or made it necessary to get over them. He repaired, for that purpose, to the imperial camp at Hall in Saxony, where a circum- stance occurred which revived his suspicions, and increased his fears. Just as he was about to enter the chamber of presence, in order to make his public submission to the emperor, a copy of the articles which he had approved of was put into his hands, in order that he might ratify them anew. Upon perusing them, he perceived that the imperial ministers had added two new articles; one impoiting that if any dispute should arise concerning the meaning of the former condi- tions, the emperor should have tlie right of putting what interpretation upon them he thought most reasonable ; the '» Du Mout, Corps Diplom. iv. pp. 11, 330. BOOK IX.] THE LANDGRAVE'S SUBMISSION. 225 other, that the landgrave was bound to submit imphcitly to the decisions of the council of Trent. This unworthy artifice, calculated to sur})rise him into an approbation of articles to which he had not the most distant ideaof assenting, by proposing them to him at a time when his mind was en- grossed and disquieted with the thoughts of that humiliating ceremony which he had to perform, filled the landgrave with indignation, and made him break out into all those violent expressions of rage to which his temper was prone. AVith some difficulty the elector of Brandenburg and Maurice prevailed at length on the emperor's ministers to drop the former article as unjust, and to explain the latter in such a manner, that he could agree to it without openly renouncing the protestant rehgion. This obstacle being surmounted, the landgrave was im- patient to finish a ceremony which, how mortifying soever, had been declared necessary towards his obtaining pardon. The emperor was seated on a magnificent throne, with all the ensigns of his dignity, surrounded by a numerous train of the princes of the empire, among whom was Henry of Brunswick, lately the landgrave's prisoner, and now, by a sudden reverse of fortune, a spectator of his humiliation. The landgrave was introduced with great solemnity, and, advancing towards the throne, fell upon his knees. His chancellor, who walked behind him, immediately read, by his master's command, a paper which contained a humble confession of the crime whereof he had been guilty ; an ac- knowledgment that he had merited on that account the most severe punishment ; an absolute resignation of himself and his dominions, to be disposed of at the emperor's plea- sure ; a submissive petition for pardon, his hopes of which were founded entirely on the emperor's clemency ; and it concluded with promises of behaving, for the future, like a subject whose principles of loyalty and obedience would be confirmed, and would even derive new force, from the sen- timents of gratitude which must hereafter fill and animate VOL. II. Q 226 CHARLES TKEACHEEOUSLY DETAINS [book ix. his heart. While the chancellor was reading this abject declaration, the eyes of all the spectators were fixed on the unfortunate landgrave. Few could behold a prince, so powerful as well as high-spirited, suing for mercy in the posture of a suppliant, without being touched with com- miseration, and perceiving serious reflections arise in their minds upon the instability and emptiness of human gran- deur. The emperor viewed the whole transaction with a haughty, unfeeling composure, and, preserving a profound silence himself, made a sign to one of his secretaries to read his answer ; the tenor of which was, that, though he might have justly inflicted on him the grievous punishment which his crimes deserved, yet, prompted by his own generosity, moved by the solicitations of several princes in behalf of the landgrave, and influenced by his penitential acknowledg- ments, he would not deal with him according to the rigour of justice, and would subject him to no penalty that was not specified in the articles which he had already subscribed. The moment the secretary had finished, Charles turned away abruptly, without deigning to give the unhappy suppliant any sign of compassion or reconcilement. He did not even desire him to rise from his knees, which the landgrave having ventured to do unbidden, advanced towards the emperor with an intention to kiss his hand, flattering himself that his guilt being now fully expiated, he might presume to take that liberty. But the elector of Brandenburg, per- ceiving that this familiarity would be oflensive to the emperor, interposed, and desired the landgrave to go along with him and Maurice to the duke of Alva's apartments in the castle. He was received and entertained by that nobleman with the respect and courtesy due to such a guest ; but after supper, while he was engaged in play, the duke took the elector and Maurice aside, and connnunicatcd to them the emperor's orders, that the landgrave must remain a prisoner in that place, under the custody of a Spanish guard. As BOOK ix.J THE LANDGRAVE AS A PRISONER. 227 they had not hitherto entertained the most distant suspicion of the emperor's sincerity or rectitude of intention, their surprise was excessive, and their indignation not inferior to it, on discovering how greatly tliey had been deceived them- selves, and how infamously abused, in having been made the instruments of deceiving and ruining their friend. They had recourse to complaints, to arguments, and to en- treaties, in order to save themselves from that disgrace, and to extricate him out of the wretched situation into which he had been betrayed by too great confidence in them. But the duke of Alva remained inflexible, and pleaded the ne- cessity of executing the emperor's commands. By this time it grew late, and the landgrave, who knew nothing of what had passed, nor dreaded the snare in which he was entangled, prepared for departing, when the fatal orders were intimated to him. He was struck dumb at first with astonishment ; but, after being silent a few moments, he broke out into all the violent expressions which horror at injustice, accompanied with fraud, naturally suggests. He complained, he expostulated, he exclaimed ; sometimes in- veighing against the emperor's artifices as unworthy of a great and generous prince ; sometimes censuring the cre- dulity of his friends in trusting to Charles's insidious promises; sometimes charging them with meanness in stooping to lend their assistance towards the execution of such a perfidious and dishonourable scheme ; and, in the end, he required them to remember their engagements to his children, and instantly to fulfil them. They, after giving way for a httle to the torrent of his passion, solemnly asserted their own innocence and upright intention in the whole transaction, and encouraged him to hope, that, as soon as they saw the emperor, they would obtain redress of an injury which afi'ected their own honour no less than it did his liberty. At the same time, in order to soothe his rage and impatience, Maurice remained with him 228 REMONSTRANCE TO THE EMPEROR [book ix. during the night, in the apartment where he was con- fined.^^ Next morning the elector and Maurice apphed jointly to the emperor, representing the infamy to which they would be exposed throughout Germany, if the landgrave were detained in custody ; that they would not have advised, nor would he himself have consented to an interview, if they had suspected that the loss of his liberty were to be the consequence of his submission ; that they were bound to procure his release, having plighted their faith to that effect, and engaged their own persons as sureties for his. Charles listened to their earnest remonstrances with the utmost coolness. As he now stood no longer in need of their services, they had the mortification to find that their former obsequiousness was forgotten, and little regard paid to their intercession. He was ignorant, he told them, of their particular or private transactions with the land- grave, nor was his conduct to be regulated by any engage- ments into wdiich they had thought fit to enter ; though he knew well what he himself had promised, which was not that the landgrave should be exempt from all restraint, but that he should not be kept a prisoner during life.'* Having said this with a peremptory and decisive tone, he put '^ Sleid. p. 413. Tlnian. lil). iv. p. trutli of this common story. The 147. Struv. Corp. Hist. Genu. ii. silence of Slcichui with regard to it, as 1052. Mcll as its not being nicntJoned in the " According to several historians various memorials which he has pub- of great name, the emperor, in his lishcd concerning the landgrave's im- treaty with the landgrave, stipulated prisonmcnt,greatly favour this opinion, that he would not detain him in any But as several books which contain prison. But in executing the deed, the information necessary towards ■which was written in the Gernuan discussing this point with accuracy, tongue, the imperial ministers frau- arc written in the (lerman language, dulently substituted the word cw/^rr, which 1 do not understand, 1 cannot instead of e/w/Vyer, and thus the treaty, pretend to inq\iire into this n\atter in place of a promise that he should with the same precision wherewitii I not be detained in a>/)/ \mson, con- have endeavoured to settle some otiier tained only an engagement that he controverted facts which have occurred should not be detained in 2^''>']»'f><(ti in the course of tiiis history. See iniprisonmcnf. Rut authors, eminent Struv. Corp. 1052. Mosheim's Keelcs. for historical knowledge aiul critical Hist. vol. ii. pp. 101, 162. Engl, accuracy, have called in question the edition. uooK IX.] roil THE LANDGRAVE'S RELEASE. 229 an end to the conference ; and they, seeing no probability at that time of making any impression upon the emperor, Avho seen)ed to have taken this resolution deliberately, and to be obstinately bent on adhering to it, were obliged to acquaint the unfortunate prisoner with the success of their cndeavom's in his behalf. The disappointment threw him into a new and more violent transport of rage, so that, to prevent his proceeding to some desperate extremity, the elector and Maurice promised that they would not quit the emperor until, by the frequency and fervour of their inter- cessions, they had extorted his consent to set him free. They accordingly renewed their solicitations a few days afterwards, but found Charles more haughty and intractable than before ; and were warned that if they touched again upon a subject so disagreeable, and with regard to wdiich he had determined to hear nothing further, he would instantly give orders to convey the prisoner into Spain. Afraid of hurting the landgrave by an officious or ill-timed zeal to serve him, they not only desisted, but left the court ; and as they did not choose to meet the first sallies of the land- grave's rage upon his learning the cause of their departiu'e, they informed him of it by a letter, wdierein they exhorted him to fulfil all that he had promised to the emperor as the most certain means of procuring a speedy release. Whatever violent emotions their abandoning his cause in this manner occasioned, the landgrave's impatience to recover his liberty made him follow their advice. He paid the sum which had been imposed on him, ordered his fortresses to be razed, and renounced all alliances which could give offence. This prompt compliance with the will of the conqueror produced no effect. lie was still guarded with the same vigilant severity ; and being carried about, together with the degraded elector of Saxony, wherever the emperor went, their disgrace and his triumph "were each day renewed. The fortitude, as well as equanimity, with which the elector bore these repeated insults, were not 230 THE E:^IPEI10R'S exactions. [book ix. more remarkable than the Landgrave's fretfuhiess and impa- tience. His active, impetuous mind could ill brook restraint; and reflection upon the shameful artifices by which he liad been decoyed into that situation, as well as indignation at the injustice with which he was still detained in it, drove him often to the wildest excesses of passion. The people of the different cities, to whom Charles thus wantonly exposed those illustrious prisoners as a public spectacle, were sensibly touched with such an insult offered to the Germanic body, and murmured loudly at this indecent treatment of two of its greatest princes. They had soon other causes of complaint, and such as affected them more nearly. Charles proceeded to add oppression to insult, and, arrogating to himself all the rights of a conqueror, exercised them with the utmost rigour. He ordered his troops to seize the artillery and military stores belono-ino; to such as had been members of the Smalkaldic league, and having collected upwards of five hundred pieces of cannon, a great number in that age, he sent part of them into the Low Countries, part into Italy, and part into Spain, in order to spread by this means the fame of his success, and that they might serve as monuments of his having subdued a nation hitherto deemed invincible. He then levied, by his sole authority, large sums of money, as well upon those who had served him with fidelity during the war, as upon such as had been in arms against him ; upon the former, as their contingent towards a war Avhich, having been undertaken, as he pretended, for the common benefit, ought to be carried on at the common charge ; upon the latter, as a fine l)y way of punishment for their rebellion. By these exactions he amassed above one million six hundred thousand crowns, a sum which appeared pro- digious in the sixteenth century. But so general was the consternation which had seized the Germans upon his rapid success, and sucii their dread of his victorious troops, that all implicitly obeyed his commands; though, at the same BOOK IX.] FERDINAND'S ENCROACmiENTS. 231 time, these extraordinary stretches of power greatly alarmed a people jealous of their privileges, and habituated, during several ages, to consider the imperial authority as neither extensive nor formidable. This discontent and resentment, how industriously soever they concealed them, became universal ; and the more these passions were restrained and kept down for the present, the more likely were they to biurst out soon with additional violence. While Charles gave law to the Germans like a con- quered people, Ferdinand treated his subjects in Bohemia with still greater rigour. That kingdom possessed pri- vileges and immunities as extensive as those of any nation in which the feudal institutions were established. The prerogative of their kings was extremely limited, and the crown itself elective. Ferdinand, when raised to the throne, had confirmed their liberties with every solemnity pre- scribed by their excessive solicitude for the security of a constitution of government to wdiich they w^ere extremely attached. He soon began, however, to be weary of a juris- diction so much circumscribed, and to despise a sceptre which he could not transmit to his posterity ; and, not- withstanding all his former engagements, he attempted to overturn the constitution from its foundations ; that, instead of an elective kingdom, he might render it hereditary. But the Bohemians Avere too high-spirited tamely to relin- quish privileges which they had long enjoyed. At the same time, many of them having embraced the doctrines of the reformers, the seeds of which John Huss and Jerome of Prague had planted in their country about the beginning of the preceding century, the desire of acquiring religious liberty mingled itself with their zeal for their civil rights; and these two kindred passions heightening, as usual, each other's force, precipitated them immediately into violent measures. They had not only refused to serve their sovereign against the confederates of Smalkalde, but having entered into a close alliance with the elector of Saxony, they had 232 OATIRTHROW OF BOHEMLIN LIBERTY. [book ix. bound themselves, by a solemn association, to defend their ancient constitution ; and to persist until they should obtain such additional privileges as they thought necessary towards perfecting the present model of their government, or rendering it more permanent. They chose Caspar Phlug, a nobleman of distinction, to be their general, and raised an army of thirty thousand men to enforce their petitions. But either from the weakness of their leader, or from the dissensions in a great unwieldy body, Avhich, having miited hastily, was not thoroughly compacted, or from some other unknown cause, the subsequent operations of the Bohe- mians bore no proportion to the zeal and ardour with which they took their first resolutions. They suffered themselves to be amused so Ions; with neo;otiations and overtures of different kinds, that before they could enter Saxony, the battle of Muhlberg was fought, the elector deprived of his dignity and territories, the landgrave confined to close cus- tody, and the league of Smalkalde entirely dissipated. The same dread of the emperor's power which had seized the rest of the Germans reached them. As soon as their sovereign approached with a body of imperial troops, they instantly dispersed, thinking of nothing but how to atone for their past guilt, and to accjuire some hope of forgiveness by a prompt submission. But Ferdinand, who entered his dominions full of that implacable resentment w'hich inflames nionarclis whose authority has been despised, was not to bo molUfied by tlie late repentance and involuntary return of rebellious subjects to their duty. He even heard, unmoved, the entreaties and tears of the citizens of Prague, who appeared before him in the posture of suppliants, and implored for mercy. The sentence which he pronounced against them was rigorous to extremity; he abolished luiuiy of their privileges, he abridged others, and new-modelled the constitution according to his pleasure, lie condemned to death many of those who had been most active in form- ing (he late association against him, and punished a still BOOK IX.] DIET OF AUGSBURG. 233 greater number with confiscation of their goods, or per- petual banishment. lie obhgcd all his subjects, of every condition, to give up their arms, to be deposited in forts where he planted garrisons ; and, after disarming his people, he loaded them with new and exorbitant taxes. Thus, by an ill-conducted and unsuccessful effort to extend their privileges, the Bohemians not only enlarged the sphere of the royal prerogative, when they intended to have circum- scribed it, but they almost annihilated those liberties which they aimed at establishing on a broader and more secure foundation.'^ The emperor, having now humbled, and, as he imagined, subdued the independent and stubborn spirit of the Germans by the terror of arms and the rigour of punish- ment, held a diet at Augsburg, in order to compose finally the controversies with regard to religion, which had so long disturbed the empire. He durst not, however, trust the determination of a matter so interesting to the free suffrage of the Germans, broken as their minds now were to subjection. He entered the city at the head of his Spanish troops, and assigned them quarters there. The rest of his soldiers he cantoned in the adjacent villages ; so that the members of the diet, while they carried on their delibera- tions, were surrounded by the same army which had overcome their countrymen. Immediately after his public entry, Charles gave a proof of the violence with which he intended to proceed. He took possession by force of the cathedral, together with one of the principal churches ; and his priests having, by various ceremonies, purified them from the pollution with which they supposed the unhallowed ministrations of the protestants to have defiled them, they re-established with great pomp the rites of the Romish worship.'" The concourse of members to this diet was extraordinary; 15 Sleid. 40S, 410, 43i. Tluian. lib. iv. 129, 150. Struv. Corp. ii. »6 Sleid. 435, 437. 234 THE E:i1PEU0R'S EXHORTATION. [book ix. the importance of the affairs concerning which it was to deUberate, ackled to the fear of giving offence to the emperor by an absence whicli lay open to misconstruction, brought together almost all the princes, nobles, and representatives of cities, who had a right to sit in that assembly. The emperor, in the speech with which he opened the meeting, called their attention immediately to that point, which seemed chiefly to merit it. Having mentioned the fatal efiects of the religious dissensions which had arisen in Germany, and taken notice of his own unwearied endea- vours to procure a general council, which alone could provide a remedy adequate to those evils, he exhorted them to recognise its authority, and to acquiesce in the decisions of an assembly to which they had originally appealed, as having the sole right of judgment in i\\e case. But the council, to which Charles wished them to refer all their controversies, had, by this time, undergone a violent change. The fear and jealousy with which the emperor's first success against the confederates of Smalkalde had inspired the pope, continued to increase. Not satisfied with attempting to retard the progress of the imperial arms, by the sudden recal of his troops, Paul began to consider the emperor as an enemy, the weight of whose power he must soon feel, and against whom he could not be too hasty in taking precautions. He foresaw that the immediate effect of the emperor's acquiring absolute power in Germany, would be to render him entirely master of all the decisions of the council, if it should continue to meet in Trent. It was dangerous to allow a monarch, so ambitious, to get the command of this formidable engine, wliich he might employ at pleasure to limit or to overturn the papal authority. As the only method of preventing this, he determined to remove the council to some city more immediately under his own jurisdiction, and at a greater distance from the terror of the cm})oror's arms, or the reach of his inlluencc. An incident fortunately occurred, BOOK IX.] IMPERML AND PAPAL INTRIGUES. 235 which gave this measure the appearance of being necessary. One or two of the fathers of the council, together with some of their domestics, happening to die suddenly, the physicians, deceived by the symptoms, or suborned by the pope's legates, pronounced the distemper to be infectious and pestilential. Some of the prelates, struck with a panic, retired ; others were impatient to be gone ; and, after a short consultation, the council was translated to Bologna, a city subject to the pope. All the bishops in the imperial interest warmly opposed this resolution, as taken without necessity, and founded on false or frivolous pretexts. All the Spanish prelates, and most of the Neapolitan, by the emperor's express command, remained at Trent ; the rest, to the number of thirty-four, accompanying the legates to Bologna. Thus a schism commenced in that very assembly, which had been called to heal the divisions of Christendom ; the fathers of Bologna inveighed against those who stayed at Trent, as contumacious and regardless of the pope's authority ; while the others accused them of being so far intimidated by the fears of imaginary danger, as to remove to a place where their consultations could prove of no service towards re-estabhshing peace and order in Germany. ^'^ The emperor, at the same time, employed all his interest to procure the return of the council to Trent. But Paul, who highly applauded his own sagacity in having taken a step which put it out of Charles's power to acquire the direction of that assembly, paid no regard to a request, the object of which was so extremely obvious. The summer was consumed in fruitless negotiations with respect to this point, the importunity of the one and obstinacy of the other daily increasing. At last an event happened which widened the breach irreparably, and rendered the pope utterly averse from listening to any proposal that came from the emperor. Charles, as has been already observed, 1' P.Paul, 2i8, &c. 236 PETER FAUNESE, THE POPE'S SON, [book ix. had so violently exasperated Peter Lewis Farnese, tlie pope's son, by refusing to grant him the investiture of Parma and Placentia, that he had watched ever since that time with all the vigilance of resentment for an opportunity of revenging that injury. He had endeavoured to pre- cipitate the pope into open hostilities against the emperor, and had earnestly solicited the king of France to invade Italy. His hatred and resentment extended to all those whom he knew that the emperor favoured ; he did every ill office in his power to Gonzaga, governor of Milan, and had encouraged Fiesco in his attempt upon the life of Andrew Doria, because both Gonzaga and Doria possessed a great degree of the emperor's esteem and confidence. His malevolence and secret intrigues were not unknown to the emperor, who could not be more desirous to take ven- geance on him, than Gonzago and Doria were to be em- ployed as his instruments in inflicting it. Farnese, by the profligacy of his life, and by enormities of every kind, equal to those committed by the worst tyrants who have disgraced human nature, had rendered himself so odious, that it was thought any violence whatever niight be law- fully attempted against him. Gonzaga and Doria soon found, among his own subjects, persons who were eager, and even deemed it meritorious, to lend their hands in such a service. As Farnese, animated with the jealousy which usually possesses petty sovereigns, had employed all the cruelty and fraud, whereby they endeavour to supply their defect of power, in order to humble and extirpate the nobility subject to his government, five noblemen of the greatest distinction in Placentia combined to avenge the injuries which they themselves had suliered, as well as those which he had oft'ered to their order. They formed their ])I;ni in (•()iijun(;ti()n with Gonzaga ; but it remains uncertain whcthci- he originally suggested the scheme to thein, or only a])j)roved of wjiat they proposed, and co- operated in carrying it on. TJiey concerted all the previous BOOK IX.] ASSASSINATED :AT PLACENTIA. 237 steps with such foresight, conducted their intrigues with such secrecy, and dispL^jed such courage in the execution of their design, that it may be ranked among the most audacious deeds of that nature mentioned in history. One body of the conspirators surprised, at mid-day, the gates of the citadel of Placentia where Farnese resided, over- powered his guards, and murdered him. Another party of them made themselves masters of the town, and called upon their fellow-citizens to take arms, in order to recover their liberty. The multitude ran towards the citadel, from which three great guns, a signal concerted with Gonzaga, had been fired ; and before they could guess the cause or the authors of the tumult, they saw the lifeless body of the tyrant hanging by the heels from one of the windows of the citadel. But so universally detestable had he become, that not one expressed any sentiment of concern at such a sad reverse of fortune, or discovered the least indignation at this ignominious treatment of a sovereign prince. The exultation at the success of the conspiracy was general, and all applauded the actors in it, as the deliverers of their country. The body was tumbled into the ditch that sur- rounded the citadel, and exposed to the insults of the rabble : the rest of the citizens returned to their usual occupations, as if nothing extraordinary had happened. Before next morning, a body of troops arriving from the frontiers of the Milanese, where they had been posted in expectation of the event, took possession of the city in the emperor's name, and reinstated the inhabitants in the possession of their ancient privileges. Parma, which the imperialists attempted likewise to surprise, was saved by the vigilance and fidelity of the officers whom Farnese had entrusted with the command of the garrison. The death of a son whom, notwithstanding his infamous vices, Paul loved with an excess of parental tenderness, overwhelmed him with the deepest affliction ; and the loss of a city of such consequence as Placentia, greatly embittered his 238 CHAHLES QUAERELS WITH THE POPE. [book ix. sorrow. He accused Gonzaga, in open consistorj^ of having committed a cruel murder, in order to prepare the way for an unjust usurpation, and immediately demanded of the emperor satisfaction for both : for the former, by the punishment of Gonzaga ; for the latter, by the restitution of Placentia to his grandson Octavio, its rightful owner. But Charles, who, rather than quit a prize of such value, was willing, not only to expose himself to the imputation of being accessory to the crime which had given an opportunity of seizing it, but to bear the infamy of defrauding his own son-in-law of the inheritance which belonged to him, eluded all his solicitations, and determined to keep possession of the city, together with its territories.^^ This resolution, flowing from an ambition so rapacious, as to be restrained by no consideration either of decency or justice, transported the pope so far beyond his usual moderation and prudence, that he was eager to take arms against the emperor, in order to be avenged on the mur- derers of his son, and to recover the inheritance wrested from his family. Conscious, however, of his own inability to contend with such an enemy, he warmly solicited the French king and the republic of Venice to join in an offensive league against Charles. But Henry was intent at that time on other objects. His ancient allies the Scots having been defeated by the English, in one of the greatest battles ever fought between these two rival nations, he was about to send a numerous body of veteran troops into that country, as well to preserve it from being conquered, as to gain the acquisition of a new kingdom to the French monarchy, by marrying his son, the dauphin, to the young queen of Scotland. An undertaking accompanied with such manifest advantages, the success of which n])pcared to be so certain, was not to be relinquished for the remote prospect of benefit from an alliance depending upon the " F.Panl, 257. Pallavic. 41, 42. Thuau. iv. 150. Wcm. dc Ribicr, .^j9, 07. ISatalis Comitis Hist. lib. iii. p. Gi'._ HOOK IX.] REQUEST OF THE DIET OF AUGSBURG. 239 precarious life of a pope of fourscore, who had nothing at heart but tlie gratification of his own private resentment. Instead, therefore, of rushing headlong into the alliance proposed, Henry amused the pope with such general pro- fessions and promises, as might keep him from any thoughts of endeavouring to accommodate his differences with the emperor ; but at the same time he avoided any such engage- ment as might occasion an immediate rupture with Charles, or precipitate him into a war for which he was not prepared. The Venetians, though much alarmed at seeing Placentia in the hands of the imperialists, imitated the wary conduct of the French king, as it nearly resembled the spirit which usually regulated their own conduct.^" But, though the pope found that it was not in his power to kindle immediately the flames of war, he did not forget the injuries which he was obliged for the present to endure; resentment settled deeper in his mind, and became more rancorous in proportion as he felt the difficulty of gratifying it. It was while these sentiments of enmity were in full force, and the desire of vengeance at its height, that the diet of Augsburg, by the emperor's command, petitioned the pope, in the name of the whole Germanic body, to enjoin the prelates who had retired to Bologna to return again to Trent, and to renew their deliberations in that place. Charles had been at great pains in bringing the members to join in this request. Having observed a con- siderable variety of sentiments among the protestants with respect to the submission wdiich he had required to the decrees of the council, some of them being altogether intractable, while others were ready to acknowledge its right of jurisdiction upon certain conditions, he employed all his address in order to gain or to divide them. He threatened and overawed the elector palatine, a weak prince, and afraid that the emperor might inflict on him the »9 Mem. de Ribier, ii. 63, 71, 78, 85, 95. Paruta, Istor. cli Vcuez. 199, 203. Thuau. iv. 100. 240 CHARLES AND THE DIET. [book ix. punishment to -w-liicli he had made himself liable by the assistance that he had given to the confederates of Smal- kalde. The hope of procuring liberty for the landgrave, together with the formal confirmation of his own electoral dignity, overcame ]\Iaurice's scruples, or prevented him from opposing what he knew would be agreeable to the emperor. The elector of Brandenburg, less influenced by religious zeal than any prince of that age, was easily induced to imitate their example, in assenting to all that the emperor required. The deputies of the cities remained still to be brought over. They were more tenacious of their principles ; and, though everything that could operate either on their hopes or fears was tried, the utmost that they would promise was, to acknowledge the jurisdiction of the council, if effectual provision were made for securing to the divines of all parties free access to that assembly, with entire liberty of debate ; and if all points in controversy were decided according to Scripture and the usage of the primitive church. But when the memorial containing this declaration was presented to the emperor, he ventured to put in practice a very extraordinary artifice. Without reading the paper, or taking any notice of the conditions on which they had insisted, he seemed to take it for granted that they had complied with his demand, and gave thanks to the deputies for their full and unreserved submission to the decrees of the council. The deputies, though astonished at what they had heard^ did not attempt to set him right, botli parties being better pleased that the matter should remain under this state of ambiguity, than to push for an explanation, which nuist have occasioned a dispute, and would have led, perhaps, to a rupture.^'' Having obtained this seeming submission from the members of the diet to the authority of the council, Charles cm})l()yed that as an argument to enforce their petition for its return to Trent. But the pope, from the satisfaction «> F. Paul, 259. Slcid 410. Tliuan. torn. ii. 155. BOOK IX.] CIIAULES PllOTESTS AGAINST THE COUNCIL. 241 Avhicli lie felt in mortifying tlic emperor, as well as from liis own aversion to what was demanded, resolved, witliout hesitation, that this petition should not be granted, thongli, in order to avoid the imputation of being influenced wliolly by resentment, he had the address to throw it uj)on the fathers at Bologna, to put a direct negative upon the request. With this view, he referred to their consideration the petition of the diet, and they, ready to confirm by tlicir assent whatever the legates were pleased to dictate, declared that the council could not, consistently with its dignity, return to Trent, unless the prelates who, by remaining there, had discovered a schismatic spirit, would first repair to Bologna, and join their brethren ; and that, even after their junction, the council could not renew its consultations "with any prospect of benefit to the church, if the Germans did not prove their intention of obeying its future decrees to be sincere, by yielding immediate obedience to those which it had already passed.^' This answer was communicated to the emperor by the jDope, Avho at the same time exhorted him to comply with demands which appeared to be so reasonable. But Charles- was better acquainted with the duplicity of the pope's cha- racter than to be deceived by such a gross artifice; he knew that the prelates of Bologna durst utter no sentiment but what Paul inspired; and, therefore, overlooking them as mere tools in the hands of another, he considered their reply as a full discovery of the pope's intentions. As he could no longer hope to acquire such an ascendant in the council as to render it subservient to his own plan, he saw it to be necessary that Paul should not have it in his power to turn against him the authority of so venerable an as- sembly. In order to prevent this, he sent two Spanish lawyers to Bologna, [Jan. IG, 1548,] who, in the presence of the legate, protested, that the translation of the council to that place had been unnecessary, and founded on false or 21 p, p.^ui^ p_ 250. Pallavic. ii. 49. VOL. II. R 242 THE EMPEROR PREPARES A SYSTEM, [book ix frivolous pretexts ; that while it continued to meet there, it ought to be deemed an unlawful and schismatical con- venticle ; that all its dicisions ought, of course, to be held as null and invalid ; and that since the pope, together with the corrupt ecclesiastics who depended on him, had aban- doned the care of the church, the emperor, as its protector, would employ all the power which God had committed to him, in order to preserve it from those calamities with which it was threatened. A kw days after, the imperial ambassador at Rome demanded an audience of the pope, and in presence of all the cardinals, as well as foreign ministers, protested against the porceedings of the prelates at Bologna, in terms equally harsh and disrespectful.^^ It was not long before Charles proceeded to carry these threats, which greatly alarmed both the pope and council at Bologna, into execution. He let the diet know the ill success of his endeavours to procure a favourable answer to their petition, and that the pope, equally regardless of their entreaties, and of his services to the church, had refused to gratify them by allowing the council to meet again at Trent ; that, though all hope of holding this assembly in a place where they might look for freedom of debate and judgment was not to be given up, the prospect of it was, at present, distant and uncertain ; that, in the meantime, Germany was torn in pieces by religious dissensions, the purity of the faith corrupted, and the minds of the ])eople disquieted with a multiplicity of new opinions and controversies, formerly unknown among Christians ; that, moved by the duty which he owed to them as their sovereign, and to the church as its protector, he had employed some divines of known abilities and learning, to prc})arc a system of doctrine, of which all should conform, until a council, such as they wished for, could be convocated. This system was compiled by IMihig, ITelding, and Agricola, of whom the two former were dignitaries in the Romish church, but remarkable for » F. Paul, p. 264. Pallavic.p.51 Sloki.p.44G. Goldasti Coustit. Imperial, i. 5G1. BOOK IX.] TO SERVE AS A RULE OF FAITH. 243 their pacific and healing spirit ; the last was a protestant divine, suspected, not without reason, of having been gained, by bribes and promises, to betray or mislead his party on this occasion. The articles presented to the diet at Ratisbon, in the year one thousand five hundred and forty-one, in order to reconcile the contending parties, served as a model for the present work. But as the emperor's situation was much changed since that time, and he found it no longer necessary to manage the protestants with the same delicacy as at that juncture, the concessions in their favour were not now so numerous, nor did they extend to points of so much consequence. The treatise contained a complete system of theology, conformable, in almost every article, to the tenets of the Romish chm'cli, though expressed, for the most part, in the softest words, or in scriptural phrases, or in terms of studied ambiguity. Every doctrine, however, peculiar to popery was retained, and the observation of all the rites which the protestants condemned as inventions of men introduced into the worship of God, was enjoined. With, regard to two points only, some relaxation in the rigour of opinion, as well as some latitude in practice, were admitted. Such ecclesiastics as had married, and would not put away their wives, were allowed, nevertheless, to perform all the functions of their sacred office ; and those provinces which had been accustomed to partake of the cup, as well as of the bread, in the sacrament of the Lord's supper, were still indulged in the privilege of receiving both. Even these were declared to be concessions for the sake of peace, and granted only for a season, in compliance with the weakness or prejudices of their countrymen."^ This system of doctrine, known afterwards by the name of the Interim, because it contained temporary regulations, which were to continue no longer in force than until a free general council could be held, the emperor presented to the ^ E. Paul, p. 270. Pallavic. ii. GO. Sleid. pp. 453, 457. Struv. Corp. p. 1054. Goldast. Constit. Imper. i. 518. H 2 244 COll^rPLIANCE WLTB. " THE INTERIM" [book ix. diet with a pompous declaration of his sincere intention to re-estabhsh tranqnilHty and order in the church, as well as of his hopes that their adopting these regulations would contribute greatly to bring about that desirable event. It was read in presence of the diet according to form. As soon as it was finished, the Archbishop of Mentz, president of the electoral college, rose up hastily, and having thanked the emperor for his unwearied and pious endeavours in order to restore peace to the church, he, in the name of the diet, signified their approbation of the system of doctrine which had been read, together with their resolution of con- forming to it in every particular. The Avliole assembly was amazed at a declaration so unprecedented and unconstitu- tional, as well as at the elector's presumption, in pretending to deliver the sense of the diet upon a point which had not hitherto been the subject of consultation or debate ; but not one member had the courage to contradict what the elector had said, some being overawed by fear, others remaining silent through complaisance. The emperor held the Arch- bishop's declaration to be a full constitutional ratification of the Interim, and prepared to enforce the observance of it as a decree of the empire.'^ During this diet, the wife and children of the landgrave, warmly seconded by Maurice of Saxony, endeavoured to interest the members in behalf of that unhappy prince, who still languished in confinement. But Charles, who did not choose to be brought under the necessity of rejecting any request that came from such a respectable body, in order to prevent their representations, laid before the diet an account of his transactions with the landgrave, together with the motives which had at first induced him to detain that prince in custody, and which rendered it prudent, as he alleged, to keep him still under restraint. It was no easy matter to give any good reason for an action incapable of being justified ; but he thought the most frivolous i)rc- »< Slcid. p. 400. F. Taul, p. 273. ruUavic. p. G3. BOOK IX.] ENFORCED BY THE EMPEROR. 245 texts might be produced in an assembly, the members of which were wilhng to be deceived, and afraid of nothing so much as of discovering that tlicy saw his conduct in its true colours. His account of his own conduct was accord- ingly admitted to be fully satisfactory, and, after some feeble entreaties that he Avould extend his clemency to his unfortunate prisoner, the landgrave's concerns were no more mentioned." In order to connterbalance the unfavoiu'able impression which this inflexible rigour might make, Charles, as a proof that his gratitude was no less permanent and unchangeable than his resentment, invested Maurice in the electoral dignity, with all the legal formalities. The ceremony was performed with extraordinary pomp, in an open court, so near the apartment in which the degraded elector was kept a prisoner, that he could view it from his windows. Even this insult did not ruffle his usual tranquillity ; and, turning his eyes that way, he beheld a prosperous rival receiving those ensigns of dignity of which he had been stripped, without uttering one sentiment unbecoming the fortitude that he had preserved amidst all his calamities.^'' Immediately after the dissolution of the diet, the em- peror ordered the Interim to be published, in the German as well as Latin language. It met with the usual reception of conciliating schemes, Avhen proposed to men heated with disputation. Both parties declaimed against it with equal violence; the protestants condemned it as a system con- taining the grossest errors of popery, disguised with so little art, that it could inq^ose only on the most ignorant, or on those who, by wilfully shutting their eyes, favoured the deception ; the papists inveighed against it, as a work in which some doctrines of the church were impiously given up, others meanly concealed, and all of them deli- ^' Sleid. p. 411. Mammcraiio Lucembergo descripta, *^ Tliuan. Hist. lib. v. 17G. Siruv. ap. Scaidium, ii. 50S. Corp. 1054. luvestitura Maurilii a 246 OPPOSITION TO "THE rNTERBI" [book ix. vered in terms calculated rather to deceive the unwary than to instruct the ignorant, or to reclaim such as were enemies to the truth. While the Lutheran divines fiercely attacked it on one hand, the general of the Dominicans, with no less vehemence, impugned it on the other. But at Rome, as soon as the contents of the Interim came to be known, the indignation of the courtiers and ecclesiastics rose to the greatest height. They exclaimed against the emperor's profane encroachment on the sacerdotal function, in presuming, with the concurrence of an assembly of laymen, to define articles of faith, and to regulate modes of worship. They compared this rash deed to that of Uzzah, who, with an unhallowed hand, had touched the ark of God ; or to the bold attempts of those emperors who had rendered their memory detestable, by endeavouring to model the Christian church according to their pleasure. They even affected to find out a resemblance between the emperor's conduct and that of Henry VIII., and expressed their fear of his imitating the example of that apostate, by usurping the title, as well as jurisdiction, belonging to the head of the church. All, therefore, contended, with one voice, that as the foundations of ecclesiastical authority were now shaken, and the whole fabric ready to be over- turned by a new enemy, some powerful method of defence must be provided, and a vigorous resistance must be made, in the beginning, before he grew too formidable to be opposed. The pope, whose judgment was improved by longer experience in great transactions, as well as by a more extensive observation of human affairs, viewed the matter with more acute discernment, nnd derived comfort from the very circumstance which filled them with apprehension,, He was astonished that a prince of such suj)erior sagacity as the emperor, should he so intoxicated with a single victory, as to imagine that he might give law to mankind, and decide even in those matters, with regard to which BOOK IX.] BY PROTESTANTS AND PAPISTS. 247 they are most impatient of dominion. He saw that, by joining any one of the contending parties in Germany, Charles miglit have had it in his power to have oppressed the other, but that tlie presumption of success had now inspired him with the vain thought of being able to domi- neer over both. He foretold that a system which all attacked, and none defended, could not be of long duration; and that, for this reason, there was no need of his inter- posing in order to hasten its fall ; for as soon as the powerful hand which now upheld it was withdrawn, it would sink of its own accord, and be forgotten for ever.^^ The emperor, fond of his own plan, adhered to his reso- lution of carrying it into full execution. But though the elector palatine, the elector of Brandenburg, and Maurice, influenced by the same considerations as formerly, seemed ready to yield implicit obedience to whatever he should enjoin, he met not everywhere with a like obsequious sub- mission. John, marquis of Brandenburg Anspach, although he had taken part with great zeal in the war agahist the confederates of Smalkalde, refused to renounce doctrines which he held to be sacred ; and reminding the emperor of the repeated promises which he had given his protestant allies, of allowing them the free exercise of their religion, he claimed, in consequence of these, to be exempted from receiving the Interim. Some other princes, also, ventured to mention the same scruples, and to plead the same indul- gence. But on this, as on other trying occasions, the firmness of the elector of Saxony was most distinguished, and merited the highest praise. Charles, well knoAving the authority of his example with all the protestant party, laboured, with the utmost earnestness, to gain his appro- bation of the Interim, and by employing sometimes promises of setting him at liberty, sometimes threats of treating him with greater harshness, attempted alternately to work upon his hopes and his fears. But he was alike regardless of " Sleid. p. 468. P. Paul, pp. 271, 277. PaUavic. ii. 64. 248 _ OPPOSITION TO "THE INTEKIM" [bookix. both. After liavino; declared his fixed beUef in the doctrines of the reformation, " I cannot now," said he, " in my old age, abandon the principles, for which I early contended ; nor, in order to procure freedom during a few declining years, will I betray that good cause, on account of which I have suffered so much, and am still willing to suffer. Better for me to enjoy, in this solitude, the esteem of vir- tuous men, together with the approbation of my own conscience, than to return into the world with the impu- tation and guilt of apostasy, to disgrace and embitter the remainder of my days." By this magnanimous resolution, he set his countrymen a pattern of conduct, so very different from that which the emperor wished him to have exhibited to them, that it drew upon him fresh marks of his displeasure. The rigour of his confinement was increased ; the number of his servants abridged ; the Lutheran clergy- men, who had hitherto been permitted to attend him, were •dismissed ; and even the books of devotion which had been his chief consolation during a tedious imprisonment, were taken from him.^^ The landgrave of Hesse, his companion in misfortune, did not maintain the same constancy. His patience and fortitude were both so much exhausted by the length of his confinement, that, willing to purchase freedom at any price, he wrote to the emperor, offering not only to a])prove of the Interim, but to yield an unreserved sub- mission to his will in every other particular. But Charles, who knew that, whatever course the landgrave might hold, neither his example nor authority would prevail on his chil(h-en or subjects to receive the Interim, ])aid no regard to his offers. He was kept confined as strictly as ever ; and, while he suffered the cruel mortification of having his conduct set in contrast to that of the elector, he derived not the smallest benefit from the mean step Avhicli exposed liim to such deserved censure.^'' ]iut it was in the imperial cities that Charles met with 2' Slcid. p. 1G2. =» Ibid. p. 4G2. BOOK IX.] BY PROTESTANTS AND PAPISTS. 249 the most violent opposition to the Interim. These small commonwealths, the citizens of which were accustomed to liberty and independence, had embraced the doctrines of the reformation when they were first published, with remarkable eagerness ; the bold spirit of innovation being peculiarly suited to the genius of free government. Among them, the protestant teachers had made the greatest number of })roselytes. The most eminent divines of the party were settled in them as pastors. By having the direction of the schools and other seminaries of learning, they had trained up disciples, who were as well instructed in the articles of their faith, as they were zealous to defend them. Such persons were not to be guided by example, or swayed by authority; but having been taught to employ their own understanding in examining and deciding with respect to the points in controversy, they thought that they were both qualified and entitled to judge for themselves. As soon as the contents of the Interim were known, they, with one voice, joined in refusing to admit it. Augsburg, Ulm, Strasburg, Constance, Bremen, Magdeburg, together with many other towns of less note, ])resented remonstrances to the emperor, setting forth the irregular and unconstitutional manner in which the Interim had been enacted, and beseeching him not to offer such violence to their con- sciences, as to require their assent to a form of doctrine and worship, which appeared to them repugnant to the express precepts of the divine law. But Charles having prevailed on so many princes of the empire to approve of ins new model, was not much moved by the representations of those cities, which, how formidable soever they might have proved, if they could have been formed into one body, lay so remote from each other, that it was easy to oppress them separately, before it was possible for them to unite. In order to accomplish this, the emperor saw it to be requisite that his measures should be vigorous, and executed 250 OPPOSITION OF THE FREE CITIES. [book ix. with such rapidity as to allow no time for concerting any common plan of opposition. Having laid down this maxim as the rule of his proceedings, his first attempt was upon the city of Augsburg, which, though overawed with the presence of the Spanish troops, he knew to be as much dissatisfied with the Interim as any in the empire. He ordered one body of these troops to seize the gates ; he posted the rest in different quarters of the city ; and, assembling all the burgesses in the town-hall, he, by his sole absolute authority, published a decree abolishing their present form of government, dissolving all their corpora- tions and fraternities, and nominating a small number of persons, in whom he vested, for the future, all the powers of government. Each of the persons thus chosen, took an oath to observe the Interim. An act of power so unprece- dented as well as arbitrary, which excluded the body of the inhabitants from any share in the government of their own community, and subjected them to men who had no other merit than their servile devotion to the emperor's will, gave general disgust ; but, as they durst not venture upon resistance, they were obliged to submit in silence.^* From Augsburg, in which he left a garrison, he proceeded to Ulm, and new-modelling its government with the same violent hand, he seized such of their pastors as refused to subscribe the Interim, committed them to prison, and, at his departure, carried them along with him in chains.^' By this severity he not only secured the reception of the Interim in two of the most powerful cities, but gave warning to the rest what such as continued refractory had to expect. The effect of the example was as great as he could have wished ; and many towns, in order to save themselves from the like treatment, found it necessary to comply with what he enjoined. This obedience, extorted by the rigour of authority, produced no cliangc in the senti- ments of the Germans, and extended no farther than «• Slcid. p. IGO. 31 jijjj p 472. BOOK IX.] COMPELLED BY VIOLENCE TO SUBMIT. 251 to make them conform so far to what he required, as was barely sufficient to screen them from punishment. The protestant preachers accompanied those rehgious rites, the observation of which the Interim prescribed, with such an exphcation of their tendency, as served rather to confirm than to remove the scruples of their hearers with regard to them. The people, many of whom had grown up to mature years since the establishment of the reformed religion, and had never known any other form of public worship, beheld the pompous pageantry of the popish service with contempt or horror ; and in most places the Romish ecclesiastics who returned to take possession of their churches, could hardly be protected from insult, or their ministrations from interruption. Thus, notwithstand- ing the apparent compliance of so many cities, the inha- bitants, being accustomed to freedom, submitted with reluctance to the power which now oppressed them. Their understanding as well as inclination revolted against the doctrines and ceremonies imposed on them ; and though for the present they concealed their disgust and resent- ment, it was evident that these passions could not always be kept under restraint, but would break out at last in effects proportional to their violence. ^^ Charles, however highly pleased with having bent the stubborn spirit of the Germans to such general submission, departed for the Low Countries, fully determined to compel the cities which still stood out, to receive the Interim. He carried his two prisoners, the elector of Saxony and land- grave of Hesse, along with him, either because he durst not leave them behind him in Germany, or because he wished to give his countrymen, the Flemings, this illustrious proof of the success of his arms and the extent of his power. Before Charles arrived at Brussels he was informed that the pope's legates at Bologna had dismissed the council by an indefinite prorogation, and that the prelates assembled there 3^ Mem. de Ribicr, ii. 218. Sleid. p. 491. 252 THE EMPEROR RECEIVES HIS SON PHILIP [book ix. had returned to their respective countries. Necessity had driven the pope into this measure. By the secession of those who had voted against the translation, together with the departure of others, who grew weary of continuing in a place where they were not suffered to proceed to business, so few and such inconsiderable members remained, that the pompous appellation of a general council could not, with decency, be bestowed any longer upon them. Paul had no choice but to dissolve an assembly which was become the object of contempt, and exhibited to all Christendom a most glaring proof of the impotence of the Romish see. But unavoidable as the measure was, it lay open to be unfavourably interpreted, and had the appearance of withdrawing the remedy, at the very time when those for whose recovery it was provided, were prevailed on to acknowledge its virtue, and to make trial of its efficacy. Charles did not fail to put this construction on the conduct of the pope; and, by an artful comparison of his own efforts to suppress heresy, with Paul's scandalous inattention to a point so essential, he endeavoured to render the pontiff odious to all zealous catholics. At the same time, he com- manded the prelates of his faction to remain at Trent, that the council might still appear to have a being, and might be ready whenever it was thought expedient to resume its deliberations for the good of the church.^^ The motive of Charles's journey to the Low Countries, besides gratifying his favourite passion of travelling from one part of his dominions to another, was to receive J^hilip, his only son, who was now in the twenty-iirst year of liis age, and whom he had called thither, not only that he might be recognised by the states of the Netherlands as heir- a])parent, but in order to facilitate the execution of a vast scheme, the object of which, and the reception it met with, shall be hereafter explained. Philip, having left the government of Spain to Maximilian, Ferdinand's eldest ^ Pallavic. pp. 11, 72. BOOK IX.] IN THE LOW COUNTRIES: [ 253 son, to whom the emperor had given the princess Mary, his daughter, in marriage, embarked for Italy, attended by a numerous retinue of Spanish nobles. '^^ The squadron Avhich escorted him was commanded by Andrew Doria, Avho, notwithstanding his advanced age, insisted on the honour of performing, in person, the same duty to the son, which he had often discharged towards the father. lie landed safely at Genoa; from thence he went to Milan, and, proceeding through Germany, arrived at the imperial court in Brussels. [April 1, 1549.] The states of Brabant, in the first place, and those of the other provinces in their order, acknowledged his right of succession in common form, and he took the customary oath to preserve all their privileges inviolate.^^ In all the towns of the Low Countries through which Philip passed, he was received with extraordinary pomp. Nothing that could either express the respect of the people, or contribute to his amusement, was neglected; pageants, tournaments, and public spectacles of every kind, were exhibited, with that expensive magnificence Avhich commercial nations are fond of displaying, when, on any occasion, they depart from their usual maxims of frugality. But amidst these scenes of festivity and pleasure, Philip's natural severity of temper was discernible. Youth itself could not render him agreeable, nor his being a candidate for power form him to courtesy. He maintained a haughty reserve in his behaviour, and discovered such manifest partiality towards his Spanish attendants, together with such an avowed preference to the manners of their country, as highly disgusted the Flemings, and gave rise to that antipathy, which afterwards occasioned a revolution fatal to him in that part of his dominions.^'' Charles Avas long detained in the Netherlands by a violent attack of the gout, which returned upon him so frequently, and with such increasing violence, that it had ^ Oclioa, Carolca, p. 362. ='' Mem. de Eibier, ii.29. L'Eves- ^ Harsei Aunal. Brabant, p. Go2. que, I16m. dii Card. Granvelle, i. 21. 254 THE EAIPEROR RECEI\'ES HIS SON PHILIP, [book ix. broken, to a great degree, the vigour of his constitution. He nevertheless did not slacken his endeavours to enforce the Interim. The inhabitants of Strasburg, after a long struggle, found it necessary to yield obedience ; those of Constance, who had taken arras in their own defence, were compelled not only to conform to the Interim, but to renounce their })rivileges as a free city, to do homage to Perdinand as archduke of Austria, and, as his vassals, to admit an Austrian governor and garrison.^'' Magdeburg, Bremen, Hamburg, and Lubeck, were the only imperial cities of note that still continued refractory. 3" Sleid. pp. 474, 491. THE HISTORY OF THE REIGN OF THE EMPEROE CHAELES Y. BOOK X. The Pope's Schemes against the Emperor — Election of Pope Julius III. — Diet at Augsburg — Schemes of Maurice of Saxony against the Emperor — War upon Magdeburg — Council summoned at Trent — Attempt to obtain the Liberation of the Landgrave — Plan of Ciiarles for procuring the Imperial Crown for his Son, Philip — The Pope and Emperor attempt to recover Parma and Placentia — Octavio makes an Alliance with Henry 11. of Prance — Hostilities between Charles and Henry — Henry protests against the Council — Violence of the Emperor against the Protestants — Siege of Mag- deburg by Maurice — Martinuzzi favours the Pretensions of Ferdinand to Hungary — He is assassinated by Order of Ferdinand — Maurice makes a Treaty with Henry II, — He demands once more the Liberty of the Land- grave — He amuses the Emperor, and meanwhile makes Preparation for War — He takes the Field — The Emperor endeavours to gain Time by Negotiation — Maurice takes the Castle of Elirenberg — The Emperor flies from Inspruck— He liberates the Elector of Saxony — The Council of Trent breaks up — The French attack Strasburg — The Operations of Albert of Brandenburg — Nego- tiations for Peace at Passau at last successful. [1549.] While Charles laboured, with such unwearied industry, to persuade or to force the protestants to adopt his regulations with respect to religion, the effects of his steadiness in the execution of his plan were rendered less considerable by his rupture with the pope, which daily increased. The firm resolution which the emperor seemed to have taken against restoring Placentia, together with his repeated encroachments on the ecclesiastical jiu"isdiction. 256 THE POPE'S SCHEMES AGAINST CHARLES. [bookx. not only by the regulations contained in the Interim, but by his attempt to re-assemble the council at Trent, exaspe- rated Paul to the utmost, \vho, Avitli the weakness incident to old age, grew more attached to his family, and more jealous of his authority, as he advanced in years. Pushed on by these passions, he made new efforts to draw the French king into an alliance against the emperor;' but finding that monarch, notwithstanding the hereditary enmity between him and Charles, and the jealousy with which he viewed the successful progress of the imperial arms, as uuAvilling as formerly to involve himself in immediate hos- tilities, he was obliged to contract his views, and to think of preventing future encroachments, since it was not in his power to inflict vengeance on account of those which w^ere past. For this purpose, he determined to recall his grant of Parma and Placentia, and, after declaring them to be re-annexed to the holy see, to indemnify his grandson Octavio by a new establishment in the ecclesiastical state. By this expedient he hoped to gain two points of no small consequence. Fie first of all rendered his possession of Parma more secure ; as the emperor would be cautious of invading the patrimony of the church, though he might seize, without scruple, a town belonging to the house of Farnese. In the next place, he would acquire a better chance of recovering Placentia, as his solicitations to that effect might decently be urged with greater importunity, and Avould infallibly be attended with greater effect, when he w^as considered not as pleading the cause of his own family, Ijut as an advocate for the interest of the holy see. But while Paul was priding himself on this device as a happy refinement in policy, Octavio, an ambitious and high- spirited young man, who couUl not bear with patience to be spoiled of one-half of his territories by the rapaciousncss of his father-in-law, and to be deprived of the other by the artifices of his grandfather, took measures in order to 1 Mem. dc Ribicr, ii. 230. BOOK X.] DEATH OF POPE PAUL ]II. 257 prevent the execution of u plan fatal to his interest. lie set out secretly from Rome, and having first endeavoured to surprise Parma, "which attempt was frustrated by the fidelity of the governor, to whom the pope had entrusted the defence of the town, he made overtures to the enn)cror of renouncing all connexion with the pope, and of depending entirely on him for his future fortune. This unexpected defection of one of the pope's own family to an enemy whom he hated, irritated, almost to madness, a mind peevish with old ago ; and there was no degree of severity to which Paul might not have proceeded against a grandson Avhom he reproached as an unnatural apostate. But, happily for Octavio, death prevented his carrying into execution the harsh resolutions which he had taken with respect to him, and put an end to his pontificate in the sixteenth year of his administration, and the eighty-second of his age.^ - Among many instances of the crcilulity or weakness of lubtorians in attributing 1 lie death of illustrious per- sonages to extraordinary causes, this is one. Almost all the historians of the sixteenth century atiirm, that the deatli of Paul III. was occasioned by the violent passions which the beha- viour of his graudsou excited ; that being informed, while he was refresh- ing himself in one of his gardens ucar Rome, of Octavio's attempt on Parma, as well as of his negotiations with the emperor by means of Gonzaga, he fainted away, continued some hours in a swoon, tlien became feverish, and died within three days. This is the account given of it by Thuanus, lib. vi. p. 211 ; Adriani, Istor. de' suoi Tempi, lib. vii. p. 480 ; and by Pather Paul, p. 280. Even Cardinal Palla- vicini, better informed than any writer Avith regard to the events which hap- pened in the papal court, and, when not warped by prejudice or system, more accurate in relating thera, agrees with their narrative in its chief circum- stances. Fallav. lib. ii. p. 74. Paruta, who wrote his history by command of the senate of Venice, relates it in the VOL. II. same manner. Istorlcl Veiiez. vol. iv. p. 212. But there was no occasion to search for any extraordinary cause to account for the death of an old man of eighty-two. Tiiere remains an authen- tic account of this event, in which we find none of those marvellous circum- stances of which the historians are so fond. The cardinal of Ferrara, who was entrusted with the affaii s of France at the court of Rome, and M. d'Uri'e, Henry's ambassador in ordinary there, wrote an account, to that monarch of the affair of Parma, and of the pope's death. By these it appears that Oc- tavio's attempt to surprise Parma was made on the 20th of October; that next day in the evening, and not while he was airing himself in the gardens of Monte-Cavallo, the pope received intelligence of what he liad done ; that he was seized with'such a transport of passion, and ciied so bitterly, that his voice was heard in several apariments of the palace ; that next day, however, he was so well as to give an audience to I he cardinal of Ftrrara, and to go through business of different kinds; that Oetuvio wrote a letter to the pope, not to Cardinal Farncse his brother. 258 ELECTION OF POPE JULIUS III. [book x. [1550.] As this event had been long expected, there was an extraordinary concourse of cardinals at Rome ; and the various competitors having had time to form their parties, and to concert their measures, their ambition and intrigues protracted the conclave to a great length. The imperial and French factions strove, with emulation, to promote one of then- own number, and had, by turns, the prospect of suc- cess. But as Paul, during a long pontificate, had raised many to the purple, and those chiefly of persons of eminent abilities as well as zealously devoted to his family, Cardinal Farnese had the command of a powerful and united squad- ron, by whose address and firmness he exalted to the papal throne the Cardinal di J\lonte, whom Paul had employed as his principal legate in the council of Trent, and trusted with his most secret intentions. He assumed the name of Julius III., and, in order to express his gratitude towards his benefactor, the first act of his administration was to put Octavio P'arnese in possession of Parma. When the injmy which he did to the holy see, by alienating a territory of such value, was mentioned by some of the cardinals, he briskly replied, " That he would rather be a poor pope, with the reputation of a gentleman, than a rich one with the infamy of having forgotten the obligations conferred upon him, and the promises which he had made."^ But all the lustre of this candour or generosity he quickly eftaced intimating liis resolution of tlirowing wc learn that on the sixtli of Novem- hiniself into tiie anus of the emperor; bcr a catarrh or defluxion fell down on that the pope received this on tlie the pope's lungs, with such dangerous twentv-first without any new symp- syini)toiiis,thal, his lifewas immediately tonis of emotion, and returned an despaired of. lOicl. p. 252. And by answer to it; that on the twenty- a third letter wc are informed, that he second of October, the day on which died November the tenth. In none of the cardinal of Eerrara's letter is these letters is his death imi)uted to dated, the pope was in liis usual any extraordinary cause. It appears state of health. Mim. dc liibier, ii. that more than twenty days elapsed p. 247. By a letter of M. d'Urfc, between Oetaviu's attempt on Parma Nov. 13, it ap))ears that the pope was and the dealii of his gr.aidfather, and in such good iieallh, that (m the third that the disease was the natural elfect of ihal month lie had celebrated the of old age, not one of those occasioned anniversary of his eoronalion witli the by violence of jjassion. usual solenuiilies. Ihid. p. 251. Jiy ^ Mem. de Uil)ier. another letter from the same person. BOOK X.] HIS CHARACTER AND CONDUCT. 259 by an action most shockingly indecent. According to an ancient and established practice, every poj)e upon his elec- tion considers it as his privilege to bestow on whom he pleases the cardinal's hat, Avhich falls to be disposed of by his being invested witii the triple crown. Julius, to the astonishment of the sacred college, conferred this mark of distinction, together -with ample ecclesiastical revenues, and the right of bearing his name and arms, upon one Innocent, a youth of sixteen, born of obscure parents, and known by the name of the Ape, from his having been trusted with the care of an animal of that species in the Cardinal di Monte's family. Such a prostitution of the highest dignity in the church would have given offence, even in those dark periods when the credulous superstitions of the people em- boldened ecclesiastics to venture on the most flagrant viola- tions of decorum. But in an enlightened age, when, by the progress of knowledge and philosophy, the obligations of duty and decency were better understood, when a blind venera- tion for the pontifical character was everywhere abated, and one-half of Christendom in open rebellion against the papal see, this action was viewed with horror. Rome was imme- diately filled wdth libels and pasquinades, which imputed the pope's extravagant regard for such an unworthy object to the most criminal passions. The protestants exclaimed against the absurdity of supposing that the infallible spirit of divine truth could dwell in a breast so impure, and called more loudly than ever, and with greater appearance of jus- tice, for the immediate and thorough reformation of a church, the head of which was a disgrace to the Christian name.* The rest of the pope's conduct was of a piece with this first specimen of his dispositions. Having now reached the summit of ecclesiastical ambition, he seemed eager to indenmify himself, by an unrestrained indulgence of his desires, for the self-denial or dissimulation which he had thought it prudent to practise while in a subordinate " Sleid. p. 493. F. Taul, p. 2S1. Pallavic. ii. p. 76. Thuan. lib. vi. p. 215. S 2 260 POPE JULIUS AND THE COUNCIL. [book x. station. He became careless to so great a degree of all serious business, that be could seldom be brought to attend to it, but in cases of extreme necessity j and giving up himself to amusements and dissipation of every kind, he imitated the luxurious elegance of Leo rather than the severe virtue of Adrian, the latter of which it was necessary to display, in contending with a sect which derived great credit from the rigid and austere manners of its teachers.^ The pope, however ready to fulfil his engagements to the family of Farnese, discovered no inclination to observe the oath, which each cardinal had taken when he entered the conclave, that, if the choice should fall on him, he would immediately call the council to re-assume its deliberations. Julius knew by experience how difficult it was to confine such a body of men witliin the narrow limits which it was the interest of the see of Rome to prescribe; and how easily the zeal of some members, the rashness of others, or the suggestions of the princes on whom they depended, might precipitate a popular and ungovernable assembly into for- bidden inquiries, as well as dangerous decisions. He wished, for these reasons, to have eluded the obligation of liis oatli, and gave an ambiguous answer to the first pro- posals which were made to him by the emperor with regard to tliat matter. But Charles, either from his natural ob- stinacy in adhering to the measures which he had once adopted, or from the mere pride of accomplishing wliat was held to be almost impossible, persisted in his resolution of forcing the protestants to return into the bosom of the clun-ch. Having persuaded himself that the authoritative decisions of the council might be en)ployed with efiicacy in combating tlicir prejudices, he, in consequence of that persuasion, continued to solicit earnestly that a new bull of convocation miglit be issued; and the pope could not, with decency, reject that request. Wlien Julius found tliat he could not prevent the calling of a council, he endeavoured » F. Paul, p. 2S1. BOOK X.] DIET OF AUGSBURG. 2G1 to take to himself all the merit of having procured the meeting of an assembly, Avhich was the object of such general desire and expectation. A congregation of car- dinals, to whom he referred the consideration of what was necessary for restoring peace to the church, recommended, by his direction, the speedy convocation of a council, as the most effectual expedient for that pm-pose ; and, as the new heresies raged with the greatest violence in Germany, they proposed Trent as the place of its meeting, that, by a near inspection of the evil, the remedy might be applied with greater discernment and certainty of success. The pope warmly approved of this advice, which he himself had dictated, and sent nuncios to the imperial and Erench courts, in order to make known his intentions.^ About this time, the emperor had summoned a new diet to meet at AuGrsburo;, in order to enforce the observation of the Interim, and to procure a more authentic act of the supreme court in the empire, acknowledging the jurisdic- tion of the council, as well as an explicit promise of con- forming to its decrees. He appeared there in person, together with his son the prince of Spain. Few electors were present, but all sent deputies in their name. Charles, notwithstanding the despotic authority with which he had given law in the empire during two years, knew that the spirit of independence among the Germans was not entirely subdued, and for that reason took care to overawe the diet by a considerable body of Spanish troops which escorted him thither. The first point submitted to the consideration of the diet, was the necessity of holding a council. All the popish members agreed, wdthout difficulty, that the meeting of that assembly should be renewed at Trent, and promised an implicit acquiescence in its decrees. The protestants, intimidated and disunited, must have followed their example, and the resolution of the diet would have proved unanimous, if Maurice of Saxony had not begun at this time to disclose « F.Paul, p. 2SL Pullav. ii. p. 77. 262 SCHEMES OF MAURICE OF SAXONY [book x. new intentions, and to act a part very different from that wliicli he had so long assumed. By an artful dissimulation of his own sentiments ; by address in paying court to the emperor ; and by the seeming zeal with which he forwarded all his ambitious schemes, Maurice had raised himself to the electoral dignity ; and havino- added the dominions of the elder branch of the Saxon family to his own, he was become the most powerful prince in Germany. But his long and intimate nnion with the emperor had afforded him many opportunities of observing narrowly the dangerous tendency of that mo- narch's schemes. He saw the yoke that was preparing for his country ; and, from the rapid as well as formidable progress of the imperial power, was convinced that but a few steps more remained to be taken, in order to render Charles as absolute a monarch in Germany as he had become in Spain. The more eminent the condition was to which he himself had been exalted, the more solicitous did Maurice naturally become to maintain all its rights and privileges, and the more did he dread the thoughts of de- scending from the rank of a prince almost independent to that of a vassal subject to the commands of a master. At the same time, he perceived that Charles was bent on ex- acting a rigid conformity to the doctrines and rites of the Romish church, instead of allowing liberty of conscience, the promise of which had allured several protcstant princes to assist him in the Avar against the confederates of Smal- kalde. As he himself, notwithstanding all the compliances which he had made from motives of interest, or an excess of confidence in the emperor, was sincerely attached to the Lutheran tenets, he determined not to be a tame spectator of the overthrow of a system which he believed to be founded in truth. This resolution, flowing from the love of liberty or zeal for religion, was strengthened by political and interested considerations. In that elevated station in which Maurice BOOK X.] AGAINST THE EMPEROE. 263 was now placed, new and more extensive prospects opened to bis view. His rank and power entitled bini to be tbe head of tbe protestants in tbe empire. His predecessor, tbe degraded elector, witb inferior abilities, and territories less considerable, bad acquired sucb an ascendant over tbe councils of tbe party ; and Maurice neitber wanted dis- cernment to see tbe advantage of tins pre-eminence, nor ambition to aim at attaining it. But be found bimself in a situation wbicb rendered tbe attempt no less difficult tban tbe object of it was important. On tbe one band, tbe con- nexion wbicb be bad formed witb tbe emperor was so intimate, tbat be could scarcely bope to take any step wbicb tended to dissolve it, witbout alarming bis jealousy, and drawing on bimself tbe wbole weigbt of tbat power, wbicb bad crusbed tbe greatest confederacy ever formed in Ger- many. On tbe otber band, tbe calauiities wbicb be bad brougbt on tbe protestant party were so recent, as well as great, tbat it seemed almost impossible to regain tbeir con- fidence, or to rally and reanimate a body, after be bimself had been tbe chief instrument in breaking its union and vigour. These considerations were sufficient to have dis- couraged any person of a spirit less adventurous tban Maurice's. But to him tbe grandeur and difficulty of the enterprise were albu'eraents ; and he boldly resolved on measures, tbe idea of wbicb a genius of an inferior order could not have conceived, or would have trembled at tbe thoughts of the danger tbat attended tbe execution of them. His passions concurred witb bis interest in confirming this resolution ; and tbe resentment excited by an injury, wbicb be sensibly felt, added new force to the motives for opposing tbe emperor, wbicb sound policy suggested. Maurice, by bis authority, bad prevailed on tbe landgrave of Hesse to put bis person in tbe emperor's power, and bad obtained a promise from tbe imperial ministers tbat be should not be detained a prisoner. This bad been violated in tbe manner already related. Tbe unhappy 264 MO^Tl^IENTS OF iNIAURICE. [book x. landgrave exclaimed as loudly against his son-in-law as against Charles. The princes of Hesse required oMaurice to fulfil his engagements to their father, who had lost his liberty by trusting to him ; and all Germany suspected him of having betrayed, to an implacable enemy, the friend whom he was most bound to protect. Roused by these solicitations or reproaches, as well as prompted by duty and affection to his father-in-law, jMaurice had employed not only entreaties but remonstrances, in order to procure his release. All these Charles had disregarded ; and the shame of having been first deceived, and then slighted, by a prince whom he had served with zeal as well as success, which merited a very different return, made such a deep impression on Maurice, that he waited with impatience for an opportunity of being revenged. The utmost caution as well as the most delicate address was requisite in taking every step towards this end; as he had to guard, on the one hand, against giving a premature alarm to the emperor; while, on the other, something considerable and explicit was necessary to be done, in order to regain the confidence of the protestant party. IMaurice had accordingly applied all his powers of art and dissimulation to attain both these points. As he knew Charles to bo inflexible with regard to the submission which he required to the Interim, he did not hesitate one moment wliether he should estabhsii that form of doctrine and worship in his dominions ; but, being sensible how odious it was to his sub- jects, instead of violently imposing it on them by the mere terror of authority, as had been done in other parts of Ger- many, he endeavoured to render their obedience a volun- tary deed of their own. Por this purpose he had assembled the clergy of his country at Leipsic, and had laid the Interim before them, toLcether with the reasons which made it ne- ccssary to conform to it. lie had gained some of them by promises, others he had wrought upon by threats, and all were intimidated bv the rit2;our with which obedience to the BOOK X.] HE ENFORCES THE INTERIM. 265 Interim was extorted in the nciglibouring provinces. Even Melancthon, whose merit of every kind entitled him to the first place among the protestant divines, being now deprived of the manly counsels of Luther, which were wont to inspire him with fortitude, and to preserve him steady amidst the storms and dangers that threatened the church, was seduced into imwarrantiible concessions, by the timidity of his tem- per, his fond desire of peace, and his excessive complaisance towards persons of high rank. By his arguments and authority, no less than by Maurice's address, the assembly was prevailed on to declare, " that, in points which were purely indifferent, obedience was dne to the commands of a lawful superior." Founding upon this maxim, no less incontrovertible in theory than dangerous when carried into practice, especially in religious matters, many of the protestant ecclesiastics whom Maurice consulted proceeded to class, among the number of things indifferent, several doctrines which Luther had pointed out as gross and per- nicious errors in the Romish creed ; and placing in the same rank many of those rites which distinguished the reformed from the popish worship, they exhorted their people to comply with the emperor's injunctions concerning these particulars.'^ By this dexterous conduct, the introduction of the Interim excited none of those violent convulsions in Saxony which it occasioned in other provinces. But though the Saxons submitted, the more zealous Lutherans exclaimed against Melancthon and his associates as false brethren, who were either so wicked as to apostatize from the truth altoge- ther ; or so crafty as to betray it by subtile distinctions ; or so feeble-spirited as to give it up from pusilhmimity and criminal complaisance to a prince, capable of sacri- ficing to his political interest that which he himself regarded ^ Sleid. pp. 481, 485. Jo. Laur. p. 748, Jo. And. Schmidii Historia Moslicmii lustitutionum Ilisf. Ecclc- Interiinistica, pp. 70, &c. Heloist. siasticoe, lib. iv. Helmst. 1755, 4to. 1730. ;266 MAURICE'S PROCEEDINGS REGARDING [book x. as most sacred. Maurice, being conscious what a coloiu* of probability his past conduct gave to those accusations, as well as afraid of losing entirely the confidence of the protestants, issued a declaration containing professions of his zealous attachment to the reformed religion, and of his resolution to guard against all the errors or encroachments of the papal see.^ Having gone so far in order to remove the fears and jealousies of the protestants, he found it necessary to efface the impression which such a declaration might make upon the emperor. For that purpose, he not only renewed his professions of an inviolable adherence to his alliance with him, but, as the city of Magdeburg still persisted in re- jecting the Interim, he undertook to reduce it to obedience, and instantly set about levying troops to be employed in that service. This damped all the hopes which the pro- testants began to conceive of Maurice, in consequence of his declaration, and left them more than ever at a loss to guess at his real intentions. Their former suspicion and distrust of him revived, and the divines of Magdeburg filled Germany with writings in which they represented him as the most formidable enemy of the protcstant religion, who treacherously assumed an appearance of zeal for its interctit, that he might more effectually execute his schemes for its destruction. This charge, supported by the evidence of recent facts as well as by his present dubious conduct, gained such uni- versal credit, that Maurice was obliged to take a vigorous step in his own vindication. As soon as the re-assembling of the council of Trent was proposed in the diet, his ambas- sadors protested that their master would not acknowledge its authority, unless all the points which had been ah'cady decided there were reviewed, and considered as still unde- termined ; unless the protcstant divines had a full heariug granted them, and were allowed a decisive voice in the " Slcid. p. 4S5. BOOK X.] THE COUNCIL OF TRENT. 267 council; and unless the pope renounced his pretensions to preside in the council, engaged to submit to its decrees, and to absolve the bishops from their oath of obedience, that they might deliver their sentiments with greater freedom. These demands, which were higher than any that the reformers had ventured to make, even when the zeal of their party was warmest, or their affairs most prosperous, counterbalanced in some degree the impres- sion which IMaurice's preparations against Magdeburg had made upon the minds of the protestants, and kept them in suspense with regard to his designs. At the same time, he had dexterity enough to represent this part of his conduct in such a light to the emperor, that it gave him no offence, and occasioned no interruption of the strict confi- dence which subsisted between them. What the pretexts were which he employed, in order to give such a bold declaration an innocent appearance, the contemporary his- torians have not explained : that they imposed upon Charles is certain, for he still continued not only to prosecute his plan, as w^ell concerning the Interim as the council, with the same ardour, but to place the same confidence in Maurice, with regard to the execution of both. The pope's resolution concerning the council not being yet known at Augsburg, the chief business of the diet Avas to enforce the observation of the Interim. As the senate of Magdeburg, notwithstanding various endeavours to frighten or to soothe them into compliance, not only persevered obstinately in their opposition to the Interim, but began to strengthen the fortifications of their city, and to levy troops in their own defence, Charles required the diet to assist him in quelling this audacious rebellion against a decree of the empire. Had the members of the diet been left to act agreeably to their own inclination, this demand would have been rejected without hesitation. All the Germans who favoured in any degree the new opinions in religion, and many who w^ere influenced by no other 268 WAR UPON MAGDEBUEG. [book x. consideration than jealousy of the emperor's growing power, regarded this effort of the citizens of Magdeburg as a noble stand for the liberties of their country. Even such as had not resolution to exert the same spirit, admired the gallantry of their enterprise, and wished it success. But the presence of the Spanish troops, together with the dread of the em- peror's displeasure, overawed the members of the diet to such a degree, that, without venturing to utter their own sentiments, they tamely ratified, by their votes, whatever the emperor was pleased to prescribe. The rigorous decrees which Charles had issued by his own authority against the Magdeburghers were confirmed ; a resolution was taken to raise troops in order to besiege the city in form ; and persons Avere named to fix the contino;ent in men or monev to be furnished by each state. At the same time, the diet peti- tioned that Maurice might be entrusted with the command of that army ; to which Charles gave his consent with great alacrity, and with high encomiums upon the wisdom of the choice which they had made.^ As jMaurice conducted all his schemes ^vitli profound and impenetrable secrec}^ it is probable that he took no step avowedly in order to obtain this chariTC. The recommendation of his conntrvmen was either purely accidental, or fiowed from the opinion gene- rally entertained of his great abilities ; and neither the diet had any foresight, nor the emperor any dread of the conse- quences which followed upon this nomination. IMauricc accepted, without hesitation, the command to which ho was recommended, instantly discerning the important ad- vantages which he might derive from having it committed to him. Meanwhile Julius, in preparing the V)ull lor the convo- cation of the council, observed all those tedious forms which the court of Rome can artfully employ to retard any dis- agreeable measure. At last, however, it was published, and the council was summoned to meet at Trent on the » Sleid. pp. 503, 512. BOOK X.] COUNCIL SUMMONED AT TRENT. ' 209 first day of the ensuing montli of IMay. As lie knew that many of the Germans rejected or disputed the authority and jurisdiction which the papal see claims with respect to general councils, he took care, in the preamble of the bull, to assert in the strongest terms his own right not only to call and preside in that assembly, but to direct its proceed- ings ; nor would he soften these expressions in any degree, in compliance with the repeated solicitations of the emperor, who foresaw what offence they would give, and what con- struction might be put on them. [1551.] They were cen- sured, accordingly, Avitli great severity by several members of the diet ; but whatever disgust or suspicion they excited, such complete influence over all their deliberations had the emperor acquired, that he procured a recess, in which the authority of the council was recognised and declared to be the proper remedy for the evils which at that time afflicted the church ; all the princes and states of the empire, such as had made innovations in religion, as well as those who adhered to the system of their forefathers, were required to send their representatives to the council ; the emperor engaged to grant' a safe-conduct to such as demanded it, and to secure them an impartial hearing in the council ; he promised to fix his residence in some city of the empire, in the neighbourhood of Trent, that he might protect the members of the council by his presence, and take care that, by conducting their deliberations agreeably to scripture and the doctrine of the fathers, they might bring them to a desirable issue. In this recess, the observation of the Interim was more strongly enjoined than ever ; and the emperor threatened all who had hitherto neglected or refused to conform to it, with the severest effects of his vengeance, if they persisted in their disobedience/" During the meeting of this diet, a new attempt was made in order to procure liberty to the landgrave. That '" Skid. p. 512. Thuaii. lib. vi. p. 233. Goldasli Constit. luipcriales, vol. ii. p. 310. 270- ATTE.MPT TO LIBERATE THE LANDGRAVE. [book x. prince, nowise reconciled to his situation by time, grew every day more impatient of restraint. Having often applied to ]\Iaurice and the elector of Brandenburg, who took every occasion of soliciting the emperor in his behalf, thousrh without anv effect, he now commanded his sons to summon them, with legal formality, to perform what was contained in the bond which they had granted him, by siurendering themselves into their hands to be treated with the same rigour as the emperor had used him. This fiu-nished them with a fresh pretext for renewing their application to the emperor, together with an additional argument to enforce it. Charles firmly resolved not to grant their request ; though, at the same time, being ex- tremely desirous to be delivered from their incessant im- portunity, he endeavoured to prevail on the landgrave to give up the bond which he had received from the two electors. But that prince refusing to part with a secmity which he deemed essential to his safety, the emperor boldly cut the knot which he could not untie ; and, by a public deed, annulled the bond which Maurice and the elector of Brandenburg had granted, absolving them from all their engagements to the landgrave. No pretension to a power so pernicious to society as that of a])rogating at pleasure the most sacred laws of honour, and most formal obligations of public faith, had hitherto been formed by any but the Roman pontiffs, who, in consequence of their claim of supreme power on earth, arrogate the right of dispensing with precepts and duties of every kind. All Germany was filled with astonishment when Charles assumed the same prerogative. The state of subjection to which the empire was reduced appeared to be more rigorous, as well as intolerable, than that of the most wretched and enslaved nations, if the emperor by an arbitrary decree might cancel those solemn contracts, which are the foundation of that mutual coiitidence whereby men are held togctlier in social union. The landgrave hiuiself now gave up all hopes of BOOKx.] THE EMPEROR'S SCHEME OF SUCCESSION. 271 recovering liis liberty by the emperor's consent, and endea- voured to procure it by his own address. But the plan w^hich he had formed to deceive his guards being discovered,, such of his attendants as he had gained to favour his escape were put to death, and he v^-as confined in the citadel of Mechlin more closely than ever.^^ Another transaction was carried on during this diet, with respect to an affair more nearly interesting to the emperor, and which occasioned likewise a general alarm among the princes of the empire. Charles, though formed with talents which fitted him for conceiving and conducting great designs, was not capable, as has been often observed, of bearing extraordinary success. Its operation on his mind was so violent and intoxicating, that it elevated him beyond what was moderate or attainable, and turned his whole attention to the pursuit of vast but chimerical objects. Such had been the effect of his victory over the confederates of Smalkalde. He did not long rest satisfied with the substantial and certain advantages which were the result of that event, but, despising these, as poor or inconsiderable fruits of such great success, he aimed at nothing less than at bringing all Germany to a uniformity in religion, and at rendering the imperial power despotic. These were objects extremely splendid indeed, and alluring to an ambitious mind ; the pursuit of them, however, was attended with manifest danger, and the hope of attaining them very nncertain. But the steps which he had already taken towards them having been accompanied with such success, his imagination, warmed with contemplating this alluring object, overlooked or despised all remaining dif- ficulties. As he conceived the execution of his plan to be certain, he began to be solicitous how he might render the possession of such an important acquisition perpetual in his family, by transmitting the German empire, together with the kingdoms of Spain, and his dominions in Italy " Sleid. p. 504. Thuan. lib. vi. pp. 234, 235. 272 CHAELES'S PROPOSITION TO FERDINAND. [book x. and the Low Countries, to his son. Having long revolved this flattering idea in his mind, without communicating it even to those ministers whom he most trusted, he had called Philip out of Spain, in hopes that his presence would facilitate the carrying forward the scheme. Great obstacles, however, and such as would have deterred any ambition less accustomed to overcome dif- ficulties, were to be surmounted. He had, in the year one thousand five hundred and thirty, imprudently assisted in procming his brother Ferdinand the dignity of king of the Romans, and there was no probability that this prince, who Avas still in the prime of life, and had a son grown up to the years of manhood, would relincpiish, in favour of his nephew, the near prospect of the imperial throne, which Charles's infirmities and declining state of health opened to himself. This did not deter the emperor from venturing to make the proposition ; and when Ferdinand, notwithstand- ing his profound reverence for his brother, and obsequious submission to his will in other instances, rejected it in a peremptory tone, he was not discom-aged by one repulse. He renewed his applications to him by his sister Mary, queen of Hungary, to whom Ferdinand stood indebted for the crowns both of Hungary and Bohemia, and who, by her great abilities, tempered Avith extreme gentleness of disposition, had acquired an extraordinary influence over both the brothers. She entered warmly into a measure, which tended so manifestly to aggrandize the house of Austria; and, flattering herself that she could tempt Ferdinand to renounce the reversionary possession of the imperial dignity for an immediate establishment, she assured him that the emperor, by Avay of conq)ensation for his giving up his chance of succession, would instantly bestoAv upon liiui territories of very considerable value, and j)()inte(l out in particular those of the duke of Wur- temberg, Avhich might be confiscated upon difl'erent pre- texts. But neither by her address nor entreaties could she BOOKX.] DirnCULTIES TO BE SURMOUNTED. 273 induce Ferdinand to approve of a plan, ■vvliich would not only have degraded liini from the highest rank among the monarchs of Europe to that of a subordinate and dependent prince, but would have involved both him and his posterity in perpetual contests. He was, at the same time, more attached to his children, than, by a rash concession, to frustrate all the high hopes, in prospect of which they had been educated. Notwithstanding the immovable firmness which Ferdi- nand discovered, the emperor did not abandon his scheme. He flattered himself that he might attain the object in view by another cliannel, and that it was not impossible to prevail on the electors to cancel their former choice of Ferdinand, or, at least, to elect Philip a second king of the Romans, substituting him as next in succession to his imele. With this view, he took Philip along with him to the diet, that the Germans might have an opportunity to observe and become acquainted with the prince, in behalf of whom he courted their interest ; and he himself employed all the arts of address or insinuation to gain the electors, and to prepare them for listening with a favourable ear to the proposal. But no sooner did he venture upon mention- ing it to them, than they at once saw and trembled at the consequences with which it would be attended. They had long felt all the inconveniences of having placed at the head of the empire a prince whose power and dominions were so extensive : if they should now repeat the folly, and continue the imperial crown, like an hereditary dignity, in the same family, they foresaw that they would give the son an opportunity of carrying on that system of oppression which the father had begun ; and would put it in his power to overturn whatever was yet left entire in the ancient and venerable fabric of the German constitution. The character of the prince, in whose favour this extra- ordinary proposition was made, rendered it still less agree- able. Philip, though possessed with an insatiable desire of VOL. ir. T 374 PHILIP DISLIKED BY THE GERMANS. [bookx. power, was a stranger to all the arts of conciliating good- will. Haughty, reserved, and severe, he, instead of gaining new friends, disgusted the ancient and most devoted partisans of the Austrian interest. He scorned to take the trouble of acquiring the language of the country to the government of which he aspired ; nor would he conde- scend to pay the Germans the compliment of accommo- dating himself, during his residence among them, to their manners and customs. He allowed the electors and most illustrious princes in Germany to remain in his presence uncovered, affecting a stately and distant demeanour, which the greatest of the German emperors, and even Charles himself, amidst the pride of power and victory, had never assumed.'- On the other hand, Ferdinand, from the time of his arrival in Germany, had studied to render himself acceptable to the people by a conformity to their manners, which seemed to flow from choice ; and his son, ]\Iaximihan, who was born in Germany, possessed, in an eminent degree, such amiable qualities, as rendered him the darling of his countrymen, and induced them to look forward to his elec- tion as a most desirable event. Their esteem and affection for him fortified the resolution which sound ])olicy had suggested, and determind the Germans to prefer the popular virtues of Ferdinand and his son, to the stubborn austerity of Philip, which interest could not soften, nor ambition teach him to disguise. All the electors, the ecclesiastical as well as secular, concurred in expressing such strong dis- approbation of the measure, that Charles, notwithstanding the reluctance with Avhich he gave up any point, was obliged to drop the scheme as im])racticable. By his unseasonable perseverance in pushing it, he had not only filled the Germans with now jealousy of his ambitious designs, but laid the foundation of rivalship ajid discord in the Austrian family, and forced his brother Ferdinand, in " Erodiman AiidiT.T Zulioli Disscilalio J'olilicollislorica dc Ka;vis polilicis Caroli V. Lii)s. 170G, Ito. p. 21. BOOKX.] PARMA AND PLACENTIA. 275 self-defence, to court the electors, particularly Maurice of Saxony, and to form such connexions with thein as cut off all prospect of renewing the proposal with success. Philip, soured by his disappointment, was sent back to Spain, to be called thence when any new scheme of ambition should render his presence necessary.'^ Having relinquished this plan of domestic ambition, which had long occupied and engrossed him, Charles imagined that he would now have leisure to turn all his attention towards his grand scheme of establishing uniformity of religion in the empire, by forcing all the contending parties to acquiesce in the decisions of the council of Trent. But such was the extent of his dominions, the variety of con- nexions in which this entangled him, and the multiplicity of events to which these gave rise, as seldom allowed him to apply his whole force to any one object. The machine which he had to conduct was so great and complicated, that an unforeseen irregularity or obstruction in one of the inferior wheels often disconcerted the motion of the w^iole, and prevented his deriving from them all the beneficial effects which he expected. Such an unlooked-for occur- rence happened at this juncture, and created new obstacles to the execution of his schemes with regard to religion. Julius III., though he had confirmed Octavio Farnese in the possession of the duchy of Parma, during the first effusions of his joy and gratitude on his promotion to the papal throne, soon began to repent of his own generosity, and to be apprehensive of consequences which either he did not foresee, or had disregarded, while the sense of his obligations to the family of Farnese was recent. The emperor still retained Placentia in his hands, and had not relinquished his pretensions to Parma as a fief of the empire. Gonzaga, the governor of Milan, having by the part which he took in the murder of the late duke, Peter 13 Sleid. p. 505. Tliuaii. pp. ISO, 2S1, 314. Adriaui, Istor. lib. viii. 238. Mem. de Ribier, ii. pp. 219, pp. 507, 520. T 2 276 OCTAVIO FARNESE MAKES AN ALLIANCE [book x. Lndovico, offered an insult to the family of Farnese, which he knew could never be forgiven, had, for that reason, avowed its destruction, and employed all the influence which his great abilities, as well as long services, gave him with tlie emperor, in persuading him to seize Parma by force of arms. Charles, in compliance with his solicitations, and that he might gratify his own desire of annexing Parma to the Milanese, listened to the proposal; and Gonzaga, ready to take encouragement from the shghtest appearance of approbation, began to assemble troops, and to make other preparations for the execution of his scheme. Octavio, who saw the impending danger, found it neces- sary for his own safety to increase the garrison of his capital, and to levy soldiers for defending the rest of the country. But, as the expense of such an effort far exceeded his scanty revenues, he represented his situation to the pope, and implored that protection and assistance which was due to him as a vassal of the church. The imperial minister, however, had already pre-occupied the pope's car ; and, by discoursing continually concerning the danger of giving offence to the emperor, as well as the imprudence of sup- porting Octavio in an usurpation so detrimental to the holy see, had totally alienated him from the family of Parnese. Octavio's remonstrance and petition met, of consequence, with a cold reception ; and he, dcsj)airing of any assistance from Julius, began to look round for protection from some other quarter. Henry IL of Prance was the only prince powerful enough to afford him this protection, and, fortu- nately, he was now in a situation which allowed him to grant it. He had brought his transactions with the two British kingdoms, which had hitherto diverted his attention from the affairs of the continent, to such an issue as he desired. This he had effected partly by the vigour of his arms, partly by his dexterity in taking advantage of the political factions which raged in both kingdoms to such a degree as rendered the councils of the Scots violent and BOOK X.] WITH HENRY H. OF FRANCE. 277 precipitate, and the operations of the English feeble and unsteady. He had procnred from the English favourable conditions of peace for his allies the Scots ; he had prevailed on the nobles of Scotland not only to affiance their young queen to his son the dauphin, but even to send her into France, that she might be educated under his eye ; and had recovered Boulogne, together with its dependencies, which had been conquered by Henry VIII. The French king, having gained points of so much con- sequence to his crown, and disengaged himself with such honour from the burden of supporting the Scot^s, and main- taining a war against England, was now at full leisure to pursue the measures which his hereditary jealousy of the emperor's poAver naturally suggested. He listened, accord- ingly, to the first overtures which Octavio Farnese made him ; and, embracing eagerly an opportunity of recovering footing in Italy, he instantly concluded a treaty, in which he bound himself to espouse his cause, and to furnish him all the assistance which he desired. This transaction could not long be kept secret from the pope, who, foreseeing the calamities which must follow if war were rekindled so near the ecclesiastical state, immediately issued monitory letters, requiring Octavio to relinquish his new alliance. Upon his refusal to comply with the requisition, he soon after pro- nounced his fief to be forfeited, and declared war against him as a disobedient and rebellious vassal. But, as with his own forces alone he could not hope to subdue Octavio while supported by such a powerful ally as the king of France, he had recourse to the emperor, who, being ex- tremely solicitous to prevent the establishment of the French in Parma, ordered Gonzaga to second Julius with all his troops. Thus the French took the field as the allies of Octavio, the imperialists as the j)rotcctors of the holy see ; and hostilities commenced between them, while Charles and Henry themselves still affected to give out that they woidd adhere inviolably to the peace of Crespy. The war 278 HENRY PROTESTS AGAINST THE COUNCIL. [book. x. of Parma was not distinguislied by any memorable event. Many small rencounters happened "with alternate success ; the French ravaged part of the ecclesiastical territories ; the imperialists laid waste the Parmesan ; and the latter, after having begun to besiege Parma in form, were obliged to abandon the enterprise' with disgrace/^ But the motions and alarm which this war, or the pre- parations for it, occasioned in Italy, prevented most of the Italian prelates from repairing to Trent on the first of May, the day appointed for reassembling the council ; and though the papal legates and nuncios resorted thither, they were obliged to adjourn the council to the first of September, hoping such a number of prelates might then assemble, that they might with decency begin their deliberations. At that time about sixty prelates, mostly from the eccle- siastical state, or from Spain, together with a few Germans, convened.^^ The session was opened with the accustomed formalities, and the fathers were about to proceed to busi- ness, when the abbot of Bellozane appeared, and presenting letters of credence, as ambassador from the king of France, demanded audience. Having obtained it, he protested, in Henry's name, against an assembly called at such an impro- per juncture, when a war, Avantonly kindled by the pope, made it impossible for the deputies from the Gallican church to resort to Trent in safety, or to deliberate con- cerning articles of faith and discipline with the recpiisite tranquillity ; he declared,'^ that his master did not acknow- ledge this to be a general or oecumenic council, but must consider, and would treat it as a i)articular and partial con- vention."' The legate aft'ected to dcs])isc this protest; and the prelates proceeded, notwithstanding, to examine and decide the great points in controversy concerning the sacra- " Adriaui, Tstor. lib. viii. pp. 505, i* F. raiil, p. 208. 511-, 521. SIcid. p. r.i:i. I'juuta, "' Skid. p. 518, Thuaii. p. 282. p. 220. Lclfcrc del Caro scritto al F Paul, p. 301. noBic del Card.Farucsc, torn. ii. 11, &c BOOK X.] CHARLES'S VIOLENCE AGAINST PROTESTANTS. 2/9 ment of the Lord's Supper, penance, and extreme unction. This measure of the IVcnch monarch, however, gave a deep wound to the credit of the council, at the very commence- ment of its deUberations. The Germans could not pay much regard to an assembly, the authority of which the second prince in Christendom had formally disclaimed, or feel any great reverence for the decisions of a few men, who arrogated to themselves all the rights belonging to the representatives of the church universal, a title to which they had such poor pretensions. The emperor, nevertheless, was straining his authority to the utmost, in order to establish the reputation and jurisdiction of the council. He had prevailed on the three ecclesiastical electors, the prelates of greatest power and dignity in the church next to the pope, to repair thither in person. He had obliged several German bishops of inferior rank to go to Trent themselves, or to send their proxies. He granted an imperial safe-conduct to the ambassadors nominated by the elector of Brandenburg, the duke of Wurtemberg, and other protestants, to attend the council ; and exhorted them to send their divines thither, in order to propound, explain, and defend their doctrine. At the same time, his zeal anticipated the decrees of the council ; and, as if the opinions of the protestants had already been con- demned, he took large steps toAvards exterminating them. With this intention, he called together the ministers of Augsburg, and, after interrogating them concerning several controverted points, enjoined them to teach nothing with respect to these contrary to the tenets of the Romish church. Upon their declining to comply with a requisition so contrary to the dictates of their consciences, he com- manded them to leave the town in three days, without revealing to any person the cause of their banishment ; he prohibited them to preach for the future in any province of the empire ; and obliged them to take an oath that they would punctually obey these injunctions. They were not 280 THE SIEGE OF MAGDEBURG [book x. the onl}^ victims to his zeal. The protestant clergy, in most of the cities in the circle of Swabia, were ejected with the same violence ; and in many places, such magistrates as had distinguished themselves by their attachment to the new opinions, were dismissed with the most abrupt irre- gularity, and their offices filled, in consequence of tlie emperor's arbitrary appointment, with the most bigoted of their adversaries. The reformed worship was almost entirely suppressed throughout that extensive province. The ancient and fundamental privileges of the free cities were violated. The people were compelled to attend the ministration of priests whom they regarded with horror as idolaters ; and to submit to the jurisdiction of magistrates whom they detested ns usurpers.'^ The emperor, after this discovery, which was more explicit than any that he had hitherto made of his intention to subvert the German constitution, as well as to extirpate the protestant religion, set out for Inspruck in the Tyrol. He fixed his residence in that city, as, by its situation in the neighbourhood of Trent, on the confines of Italy, it appeared a commodious station whence he might inspect the operations of the council, and observe the progress of the war in the Parmesan, without losing sight of such occurrences as might happen in Germany.'^ During these transactions, the siege of Magdeburg was carried on with varied success. At the time when Charles proscribed the citizens of Magdeburg, and put them under the ban of tlic empire, he had exhorted, and even enjoined, all the neighbouring states to take arms against them as rebels and common enemies. ]']ncouraged by his exhor- tations as well as promises, George of Mecklenburg, a younger brother of the reigning duke, an active and ambi- tious prince, collected a considerable number of tliose sohliers of fortune who had accompanied Henry of l^runs- wick in all his wild enterprises ; and though a zealous '' Slcid. pp. 510, 52S. Tlmuu. p. 270. " Slcid. p. 329. BooKX.] BY MAURICE OF SAXONY. 281 Lutheran himself, invaded the territories of the Magde- burghers, hoping that, by the merit of this service, he might procure some part of their domains to be allotted to him as an establishment. The citizens, unaccustomed as yet to endure patiently the calamities of war, could not be restrained from sallying out, in order to save their lands from being laid waste. They attacked the duke of Meck- lenburg with more resolution than conduct, and were repulsed with great slaughter. But, as they were animated with that unconquerable spirit which flows from zeal for religion, cooperating with the love of civil liberty, far from being disheartened by their misfortune, they prepared to defend themselves with vigour. ]\Iany of the veteran soldiers who had served in the long wars between the emperor and the king of France, crowding to their standards under able and experienced officers, the citizens acquired military skill by degrees, and added all the advantages of that to the efforts of undaunted courage. The duke of Mecklenburg, notwithstanding the severe blow which he had given the jMagdeburghcrs, not daring to invest a town strongly for- tified, and defended by such a garrison, continued to ravage the open country. As the hopes of booty drew many adventurers to the camp of this young prince, Maurice of Saxony began to be jealous of the power which he possessed by being at the head of such a numerous body, and marching towards ]\lagdeburg with his own troops, assumed the supreme command of the whole army, — an honour to which his high rank and great abilities, as well as the nomination of the diet, gave him an indisputable title. With this united force he invested the town, and began the siege in form ; claiming great merit Avitli the emperor on that account, as, from his zeal to execute the imperial decree, he was exposing himself on(;e more to the censures and maledictions of the party with which he agreed in religious sentiments. But the approaches to the town went on slowly ; the garrison 282 ^lAGDEBURG SURRENDERS TO MAURICE. [books. interrupted the besiegers by frequent sallies, in one of which George of Mecklenburg was taken prisoner, levelled part of their works, and cut off the soldiers in their advanced posts. While the citizens of Magdeburg, animated by the discourses of their pastors, and the soldiers, encouraged by the example of their officers, endured all the hardships of a siege without murmuring, and defended themselves with the same ardour which they had at first discovered ; the troops of the besiegers acted with extreme remissness, repining at everything that they suffered in a service they dishked. They broke out more than once into open mutiny, demanding the arrears of their pay, which, as the members of the Germanic body sent in their contributions towards defraying the expenses of the war sparingly, and with great reluctance, amounted to a considerable sura.^*^ j\Iaurice, too, had particular motives, though such as he durst not avow at that juncture, which induced him not to push the siege with vigour, and made him choose rather to continue at the head of an army exposed to all the imputations which his dilatory proceedings drew upon him, than to precipitate a conquest that might have brought him some accession of reputation, but Avoidd have rendered it neces- sary to disband his forces. At last, the inhabitants of the town beginning to suflPer distress from want of provisions, and Maurice, finding it impossible to protract matters any longer without filling the emperor with such suspicions as might have discon- certed all his measures, he concluded a treaty of capitulation with the city upon the following conditions : That the Magdeburghcrs should humbly implore pardon of the emperor ; that they should not for the future take arms, or enter into any alliance against the house of Austria ; tliat they should submit to the authority of the imperial chamber; that they should conform to the decree of the diet at Augsburg with respect to religion ; that the new "Thump. 277. Slcid. p. 514. BOOK X.] HE IS ELECTED BURGRAVE. 283 fortifications added to the town should be demolished ; that they should pay a fine of fifty thousand crowns, deliver up twelve pieces of ordnance to the emperor, and set the duke of Mecklenburg, together with their other prisoners, at liberty, without ransom. Next day their garrison marched out, and Maurice took possession of the town mill great military pomp. Before the terms of capitulation were settled, Maurice had held many conferences with Albert count Mansfeldt, who had the chief command in Magdeburg. He consulted, likewise, with Count Heideck, an officer who had served with great reputation in the army of the league of Smalkalde, whom the emperor had proscribed on account of his zeal for that cause, but whom Maurice had, notwithstanding, secretly engaged in his service, and admitted into the most intimate confidence. To them he communicated a scheme, which he had long revolved in his mind, for procuring liberty to his father-in-law, the landgrave, for vindicating the privileges of the Germanic body, and setting bounds to the dangerous encroachments of the imperial power. Having deliberated with them concerning the measures which might be necessary for securing the success of such an arduous enterprise, he gave Mansfeldt secret assurances that the fortifications of Magdeburg should not be destroyed, and that the inhabitants should neither be disturbed in the exercise of their religion, nor be deprived of any of their ancient immunities. In order to engage Maurice more thoroughly, from considerations of interest, to fulfil these en- gagements, the senate of ]\Iagdeburg elected him their bur- grave, a dignity which had formerly belonged to the electoral house of Saxony, and which entitled him to a very ample jurisdiction, not only in the city, but in its dependencies.^" Thus the citizens of Magdeburg, after enduring a siege of twelve months, and struggling for their liberties, religious ^° Sleid. p. 528. Thuan. p. 276. Obsidiouis "Magdeburgicfc Descriptio per Sebast. Besselmeierum, ap. Scard. ii. p. 518. 284 MAURICE'S SUCCESS AT MAGDEBURG. [bookx. and civil, with an invincible fortitude worthy of the cause in which it was exerted, had, at last, the good fortune to conclude a treaty which left them in a better condition than the rest of their countrymen, whom their timidity or want of i)ublic spirit had betrayed into such mean submis- sions to the emperor. But while a great part of Germany applauded the gallant conduct of the jMagdeburghers, and rejoiced in their having escaped the destruction with which they had been threatened, all admired Maurice's address in the conduct of his negotiation with them, as well as the dexterity with which he converted every event to his own advantage. They saw -with amazement that, after having afflicted the Magdeburghers during many months with all the calamities of war, he was at last, by their voluntary election, advanced to the station of highest authority in that city which he had so lately besieged, that, after having been so long the object of their satirical invectives as an apostate, and an enemy to the religion which he professed, they seemed now to place unbounded confidence in his zeal and good-will."^ At the same time, the public articles in the treaty of capitulation were so perfectly conformable to those which the emperor had granted to the other protes- tant cities, and Maurice took such care to magnify his merit in having reduced a place which had defended itself with so much obstinacy, that Charles, far from suspecting anything fraudulent or collusive in the terms of accom- modation, ratified them without hesitation, and absolved the Magdeburghers fjom the sentence of ban which had been denounced against them. The only point that now remained to embarrass Maurice was, how to keep together the veteran troops which liad served under him, as well as those whicii had been employed in the defence of the town. For this, too, he found an expedient with singular art and felicity, llis schemes against the em])eror were not yet so fully ripened ^' AniolJi Vita Maurit. apud Menken, ii. p. 1227. BOOKx.] HIS EXPEDIENT FOR KEEHNG UP AN ARMY. 285 that he durst venture to disclose thciii, and proceed openly to carry them into execution. The winter was approaching, which made it impossible to take the field immediately. He was afraid that it would give a premature alarm to the emperor, if he should retain such a considerable body in his pay until the season of action returned in the spring. As soon, then, as Magdeburg opened its gates, he sent home his Saxon subjects, whom he could comuiand to take arms and re-assemble on the shortest warning ; and, at the same time, paying part of the arrears due to the mercenary troops who had followed his standard, as well as to the soldiers wdio had served in the garrison, he absolved them from their respective oaths of fidelity, and disbanded them. But the moment he gave them their discharge, George of ]\Ieck- lenburg, who was now set at liberty, offered to take tbem into his service, and to become surety for the payment of what was still owincf to them. As such adventurers were accustomed often to change masters, they instantly accepted the offer. Thus, these troops were kept united, and ready to march wherever Maurice should call them ; while the emperor, deceived by this artifice, and imagining that George of Mecklenburg had hired them with an intention to assert his claim to a part of his brother's territories by force of arms, suffered this transaction to pass without observation, as if it had been a matter of no consequence." Having ventured to take these steps, which were of so much consequence towards the execution of his schemes, Maurice, that he might divert the emperor from observing their tendency too narrowly, and prevent the suspicions which that must have excited, saw^ the necessity of employ- ing some new artifice in order to engage his attention, and to confirm him in his present security. As he knew that the chief object of the emperor's solicitude at this juncture, was how he might prevail with the protestant states of " Thuan.p. 27S. Struv. Corp. Hist. Germ. p. lOGl. An.oldi Vita Mauritii, apud Menken, ii. p. 1227. 286 MAURICE'S DUPLICITY TOWARDS CHARLES. [bookx. Germany to recognise the authority of the council of Trent, and to send thither ambassadors in their own name, as well as deputies from their respective churches, he took hold of this predominating passion in order to amuse and to deceive him. He affected a wonderful zeal to gratify Charles in what he desired wdth regard to this matter ; he nominated ambassadors, whom he empowered to attend the council ; he made choice of Melancthon and some of the most emi- nent among his brethren to prepare a confession of faith, and to lay it before that assembly. After his example, and probably in consequence of his solicitations, the duke of Wurtemberg, the city of Strasburg, and other protestant states, appointed ambassadors and divines to attend the council. They all applied to the emperor for his safe-con- duct, Avhich they obtained in the most ample form. This was deemed sufficient for the security of the ambassadors ; and they proceeded accordingly on their journey ; but a separate safe-conduct from the council itself was demanded for the protestant divines. The fate of John Huss and Jerome of Prague, whom the council of Constance, in the preceding century, had condemned to the flames without regarding the imperial safe-conduct which had been granted them, rendered this precaution prudent and necessary. But as the pope was no less unwilling that the protestants should be admitted to a hearing in the council, than the emperor had been eager in bringing them to demand it, the legate by promises and threats prevailed on the fathers of the council to decline issuing a safe-conduct in the same form as that which the council of Basil had granted to the fol- lowers of Huss. The protestants, on tiieir ])art, insisted upon the council's copying the precise words of that instru- ment. The imperial ambassadors interposed, in order to obtain what would satisfy them. Alterations in the form of the writ were proposed; ex])edients were suggested; pro- tests and counter-protests were taken : the legate, together with his associates, laboured to gain their point by artifice BOOKX.] THE ATFAIRS OF HUNGARY. 287 and chicane ; the protestants adhered to theirs with firmness and obstinacy. An account of everything that passed in Trent was transmitted to the emperor at Inspruck, who, attempting, from an excess of zeal, or of confidence in his own address, to reconcile the contending parties, was involved in a labyrinth of inextricable negotiations. By means of this, how- ever, Maurice gained all that he had in view ; the emperor's time was wholly engrossed, and his attention diverted; while he himself had leisure to mature his schemes, to carry on his intrigues,and to finish his preparations, before he threw ofi'the mask, and struck the blow which he had so long meditated. ^^ But, previous to entering into any further detail concern- ing Maurice's operations, some account must be given of a new revolution in Hungary, which contributed not a little towards their producing such extraordinary efifects. When Solyman, in the year 1541, by a stratagem, which suited the base and insidious policy of a petty usurper, rather than the magnanimity of a mighty conqueror, deprived the young king of Hungary of the dominions w^hich his father had left him, he had granted that unfortunate prince the country of Transylvania, a province of his paternal kingdom. The government of this, together Avitli the care of educating the young king, for he still allowed him to retain that title^ though he had rendered it only an empty name, he com- mitted to the queen and Martinuzzi, bishop of Waradin, whom the late king had appointed joint-guardians of his son, and regents of his dominions, at a time when those offices were of greater importance. This co-ordinate jurisdic- tion occasioned the same dissensions in a small principality as it would have excited in a great kingdom ; an ambitious young queen, possessed with a high opinion of her own capacity for governing, and a high-spirited prelate, fond of power, contending who should engross the greatest share in the administration. Each had their partisans among the nobles ; but as Martinuzzi, by his great talents, began to 23 Sleid. pp. 52G, 529. F. Paul, pp. 323, 338. Thuan. p. 286. 288 MARTINUZZI FAVOURS [book x. acquire the ascendant, Isabella turned his own arts against him, and courted the protection of the Turks. The neighbouring baslias, jealous of the bishop's power as well as abilities, readily promised her the aid which she demanded, and would soon have obliged Martinnzzi to have given up to her the sole direction of affairs, if his ambition, fertile in expedients, had not suggested to him a new mea- sure, and one that tended not only to preserve, but to enlarge his authority. Having concluded an agreement with the queen, by the mediation of some of the nobles who were soli- citous to save their country from the calamities of a civil war, he secretly despatched one of his confidants to Vienna, and entered into a negotiation with Ferdinand. As it was no diffi- cult matter to persuade Ferdinand that the same man whose enmity and intrigues had driven him out of a great part of his Hungarian dominions, might, upon a reconciliation, become equally instrumental in recovering them, he listened eagerly to the first overtures of an union with that prelate. Martinnzzi allured him by such prospects of advantage, and engaged, with so much confidence, that he would pre- vail on the most powerful of the Hungarian nobles to take arms in his favour, that Ferdinand, notvvithstandiug his truce with Solyman, agreed to invade Transylvania. The command of the troops destined for that service, consisting of veteran Spanish and German soldiers, was given to Cas- talda. Marquis de Piadena, an officer formed by the famous Marquis dc Pescara, whom he strongly resembled both in his enterprising genius for civil business, and in his great knowledge in the art of war. This army, more formidable by the discipline of the soldiers, and the abilities of the general, than by its numbers, was powerfully seconded by Martinnzzi and his faction among the Hungarians. As the Turkish bashas, the sultan himself being at the head of his army on the frontiers of Persia, could not allbrd the (jueen such immediate or effectual assistance as the exigency of her affairs required, she quickly lost all hopes of being able to BOOKX.] FERDINAKD'S TRETENSIONS. 289 retain any longer the authority which she possessed as regent, and even began to despair of her son's safety. Martinuzzi did not suffer this favourable opportunity of accomplishing his own designs to pass unimproved, and ventured, while she was in this state of dejection, to lay before her a proposal, which, at any other time, she would have rejected with disdain, lie represented how impossible it was for her to resist Ferdinand's victorious arms ; that, even if the Turks should enable her to make head against them, she would be far from changing her condition to the better, and could not consider them as deliverers, but as masters, to whose commands she must submit ; he conjured her, therefore, as she regarded her own dignity, the safety of her son, or the security of Christendom, rather to give up Tran- sylvania to Ferdinand, and to make over to him her son's title to the crown of Hungary, than to allow both to be usurped by the inveterate enemy of the Christian faith. At the same time he promised her, in Ferdinand's name, a compensation for herself, as well as for her son, suitable to their rank and proportional to the value of Avhat they were to sacrifice. Isabella, deserted by some of her adherents, distrusting others, destitute of friends, and surrounded by Castaldo's and Martinuzzi's troops, subscribed these hard conditions, though with a reluctant hand. Upon this, she surrendered such places of strength as were still in her pos- session, she gave up ail the ensigns of royalty, particularly a crown of gold, which, as the Hungarians believed, had descended from heaven, and conferred on him who wore it an undoubted right to the throne. As she could not bear to remain a private person, in a country where she had once enjoyed sovereign power, she instantly set out Avith her son for Silesia, in order to take possession of the principalities of Oppelen and Katibor, the investiture of which Ferdinand had engaged to grant her son, and likewise to bestow one of his daughters upon him in marriage. Upon the resignation of the young king, Martinuzzi, VOL. II. V 290 FERDINAND'S DESIGNS AGAINST MARTINUZZI. [bookx. and, after his example, the rest of the Transylvaniau grandees, swore allegiance to Ferdinand ; who, in order to testify his grateful sense of the zeal as well as success with which that prelate had served him, affected to dis- tinguish him by every possible mark of favour and con- fidence. He appointed him governor of Transylvania, with almost unlimited authority ; he publicly ordered Castaldo to pay the greatest deference to his opinion and com- mands ; he increased his revenues, which were already very great, by new appointments ; he nominated him archbishop of Gran, and prevailed on the pope to raise him to the dignity of a cardinal. All this ostentation of good-will, however, was void of sincerity, and calculated to conceal sentiments the most perfectly its reverse. Ferdinand dreaded Martinuzzi's abilities ; distrusted his fidelity ; and foresaw, that, as his extensive authority enabled him to check any attempt towards circumscribing or abolishing the extensive privileges which the Hungarian nobility possessed, he would stand forth, on every occasion, the guardian of the liberties of his country, rather than act the part of a viceroy devoted to the will of his sovereign. For this reason, he secretly gave it in charge to Castaldo, to watch his motions, to guard against his designs, and to thwart his measures. But Martinuzzi, either because he did not perceive that Castaldo was })laced as a spy on his actions, or because he despised Ferdinand's insidious arts, assumed the direction of the war against the Turks with his usual tone of authority, and conducted it with great magnanimity, and no less success. He recovered some places of which the infidels had taken })ossession ; he rendered their attempts to reduce others abortive ; and established Ferdinand's authority, not only in Transylvania, but in the IJannat of Temeswar, and several of the countries adjacent. In carrying on these operations, he often differed in sentiments from Castaldo and his officers, and treated the Turkish prisoners with a degree not only of humanity, u BooKX.] HIS ASSASSINATION. 291 but even of generosity, which Castalclo loudly condemned. This was represented at Vienna as an arttul method of courting the friendship of the inlidels, that, by securing, their protection, he might shake off all dependence upon the sovereign whom he now acknowledged. Though Martinuzzi, iu justification of his own conduct, contended that it was imjjolitic by unnecessary severities to exasperate an enemy prone to revenge, Castaldo's accusations gained credit with Ferdinand, prepossessed already against Martin- uzzi, and jealous of everything that could endanger his own authority in Hungary, in proportion as he knew it to be precarious and ill-established. These suspicions Castaldo confirmed and strengthened, by the intelligence which he transmitted continually to his confidants at Vienna. By misrepresenting what was innocent, and putting the worst construction on what seemed dubious in Martinuzzi's conduct ; by imputing to him designs which he never formed, and charging him with actions of which he was not guilty, he at last convinced Ferdinand, that, in order to preserve his Hungarian crown, he must cut off that ambitious prelate. But Ferdinand, foreseeing that it would be dangerous to proceed in the regular course of law against a subject of such exorbitant power as might enable him to set his sovereign at defiance, determined to employ violence, in order to obtain that satisfaction which the laws were too feeble to afford him. He issued his orders accordingly to Castaldo, who willingly undertook that infamous service. Having com-, municated the design to some Italian and Spanish officers whom he could trust, and concerted with them the plan of executing it, they entered Martinuzzi's apartment, early one morning, under pretence of presenting to him some dispatches which were to be sent off immediately to Vienna; and while he perused a paper with attention, one of their number struck him with his poniard in the throat. The blow was not mortal. Martinuzzi started up with tha u2 292 MAURICE COURTS THE PROTECTION [bookx. intrepidity natural to him, and grappling the assassin, threw him to the ground. But the other conspirators rushing in, an old man, unarmed and alone, was unable long to sus- tain such an unequal conflict, and sunk under the wounds which he received from so manj' hands. The Transyl- vanians were restrained by dread of the foreign troops stationed in their country from rising in arms, in order to take vengeance on the murderers of a prelate who had long been the object of their love as well as veneration. They spoke of the deed, however, with horror and execration ; and exclaimed against Ferdinand, whom neither gratitude for recent and important services, nor reverence for a character considered as sacred and inviolable among Chris- tians, could restrain from shedding tlie blood of a man, whose only crime was attachment to his native country. The nobles, detesting the jealous as well as cruel policy of a court, which, upon uncertain and improbable surmises, had given up a person, no less conspicuous for his merit than his rank, to be butchered by assassins, either retired to their own estates, or if they continued with the Austrian army, grew cold to tlie service. The Turks, encouraged by the death of an enemy, ^vhosc abilities they knew and dreaded, prepared to renew hostilities early in the spring ; and instead of the security which Ferdinand had expected from the removal of Martinuzzi, it was evident that his territories in Hungary were about to be attacked with greater vigour, and defended with less zeal, than ever.^^ By this time, IMaurice, having almost finished his in- trigues and preparations, was on the point of declaring his intentions openly, and of taking the field against the cmpeior. His first care, after he came to this resohition, was to disclaim that narrow and bigoted niaxim of the ■o^ -■• Slcid. p. 5155. Tliunii. lib. ix. dc Rihicr, ii. p. 871. Naialis Comitis . :5Ij9, cV:r. IsluaiiliJinii Ilis1.Krf;ii. ungaiici, lib. xvi. pp. JS9, &c. Wciii. pp. 'M)'.}, S:c. IsluaiiliJiflii Ilisl.Krgii. llibtoria, lib. iv. pp. S4, &c. BOOK X.] or TirE FRENCH KING. 293 confederates of Smalkalde, -wliicli liad led them to slum nil connexion Avith foicigners. lie had observed how fatal this had been to their cause ; and, instructed by their error, he was as eager to court the protection of Henry II. as they had been solicitous to prevent the interposition of Francis I. Happily for him, he found Henry in a disposition to listen to the first overture on his part, and in a situation which enabled him to hv'um the whole force of the French monarchy into action. Henry had long observed the progress of the emperor's arms Avith jealousy, and wished to distinguish himself by entering the lists against the same enemy, whom it had been the glory of his father's reign to oppose. He had laid hold on the first opportunity in his power of thwarting the emperor's designs, by taking the duke of Parma under his protection ; and hostilities were already begun, not only in that duchy but in Piedmont. Having terminated the war with England by a peace, no less advantageous to himself than honourable for his allies the Scots, the restless and enterprising courage of his nobles w^as impatient to display itself on some theatre of action more conspicuous than the petty operations in Parma or Piedmont afforded them. John de P'ienne, bishop of Bayonne, whom Henry had sent into Germany, under pretence of hiring troops to be employed in Italy, was empowTred to conclude a treaty in form with Maurice and his associates. As it would have been very indecent in a king of Prance to have undertaken the defence of the protestant church, the interests of religion, how much soever they might be effected by the treaty, were not once mentioned in any of the articles. Religious concerns they pretended to commit entirely to the dis- position of Divine Providence; the only motives assigned for their present confederacy against Charles, were to procure the landgrave liberty, and to prevent the subversion of the ancient constitution and laws of the German empire. In order to accomplish these ends, it was agreed that all 294 TREATY WITH HENRY II. [bookx. the contracting parties should, at the same time, declare war against the emperor; that neither peace nor truce should be made but by common consent, nor without in- cluding each of the confederates ; that, in order to guard against the inconveniences of anarchy, or of pretensions to joint command, Maurice should be acknowledged as head of the German confederates, with absolute authority in all military affairs ; that Maurice and his associates should bring into the field seven thousand horse, with a propor- tional number of infantry ; that, towards the subsistence of this army, during the first three months of the war Henry should contribute two hundred and forty thousand crowns, and afterwards sixty thousand crowns a month, as long as they continued in arms ; that Henry should attack the emperor on the side of Lorrain with a powerful array ; that if it were found requisite to elect a new emperor, such a person shall be nominated as shall be agreeable to the king of France. ^^ This treaty was concluded on the fifth of October, some time before Magdeburg surrendered, and the preparatory negotiations were concluded with such pro- found secrecy, that, of all the princes who afterwards acceded to it, ^Maurice communicated what he was carrying on to two only, John Albert, the reigning duke of Mecklen- burg, and William of Hesse, the landgrave's eldest son. The league itself was no less anxiously concealed, and with such fortunate care, that no rumour concerning it reached the cars of the emperor or his ministers ; nor do they seem to have conceived the most distant suspicion of such a transaction. At the same time, Avith a solicitude which was careful to draw some accession of strength from every quarter, Maurice applied to Edward VI. of England, and requested a subsidy of four hundi'od thousand crowns for the support of a confederacy formed in defence of the ])rotestant religion. But the factions which prevailed in tlie J'higHsh court ^ Rccueil des Traitcs, toin. ii. p. 25S. Tliuan. lib. viii. p. 279. BOOK X.] DEMANDS TO SET AT LIBERTY THE LANDGRAVE. 295 during the minority of that prince, and which deprived both the councils and arms of the nation of their wonted vigour, left the Enghsh ministers neither time nor incH- nation to attend to foreign affairs, and prevented Maurice's obtaining that aid, which their zeal for the reformation would have prompted them to grant him."" Maurice, however, having secured the protection of such a powerfid monarch as Henry II., proceeded with great confidence, but with equal caution, to execute his plan. As he judged it necessary to make one effort more, in order to obtain the emperor's consent that the landgrave should be set at liberty, he sent a solemn embassy, in his own name, and in that of the elector of Brandenburg, to Inspruck. After resuming, at great length, all the facts and arguments upon which they founded their claim, and representing, in the strongest terms, the peculiar engagements which bound them to be so assiduous in their solicitations, they renewed the request in behalf of the unfortunate prisoner, which they had so often preferred in vain. The elector palatine, the duke of Wurtemberg, the dukes of Mecklenburg, the duke of Deuxponts, tlie marquis of Brandenburg, Bareith, and the marquis of Baden, by their ambassadors, concurred with them in their suit. Letters were likewise delivered to the same effect from the king of Denmark, the duke of Bavaria, and the dukes of Lunenburg. Even the king of the Romans joined in this application, being moved with compassion towards the landgrave in his wretched situation, or influenced, perhaps, by a secret jealousy of his brother's power and designs, which, since his attempt to alter the order of succession in the empire, he had come to view with other eyes than formerly, and dreaded to a great degree. But Charles, constant to his own system with regard to the landgrave, eluded a demand urged by such powerful intercessors ; and having declared that he would communi- "" Burnet's Hist, of the Reform, vol. ii. Append, p. 37. 296 MAURICE'S CONTINUED ARTIFICES. [bookx. cate his resulution concerning the matter to Maurice as soon as he arrived at Inspruck, where he was every clay expected, he did not deign to descend into any more par- ticular exphcation of his intentions.^" This appHcation, though of no benefit to the landgrave, was of great advantage to Maurice. It served to justify his subsequent proceedings, and to demonstrate the necessity of employing aruis in order to extort that equitable concession, which his mediation or entreaty could not obtain. It was of use, too, to confirm the emperor in his security, as both the solemnity of the apphcation, and the solicitude with which so many princes were drawn in to enforce it, led him to conclude that they placed all their hopes of restoring the landgrave to liberty, in gaining his consent to dismiss him, [1552.] Maurice employed artifices still more refined to conceal his machinations, to amuse the emperor, and to gain time. He affected to be more solicitous than ever to find out some expedient for removing the difficulties with regard to the safe-conduct for the protestant divines appointed to attend the council, so that they might repair thither without any apprehension of danger. His ambas- sadors at Trent had frequent conferences concerning this matter with the imperial ambassadors in that city, and laid open their sentiments to them with the appearance of the most nnreserved confidence. He was Avilling at last to have it believed, that he thought all dificrences with respect to this preliminary article were on the jjoint of being adjusted ; and in order to give credit to this opinion, he commanded Melaiicthon, together with his brethren, to set out on their journey to Trent. At the same time, he held a close correspondence with the imperial court at Inspruck, and renewed, on every occasion, his professions not only of fide lity but of attachment to the em])eror. He talked con- tinually of his intention of going to Inspruck in person ; he 5 Sleid. p. 531. Tlmaii. lib. viii. p. 280. 13O0KX.] THE EMPEROR'S SUSPICIONS. 297 gave orders to hire a house for hiin in that city, and to fit it up with the greatest (Uspatch for his reception.^** But, profoundly skilled as Maurice was in the arts of deceit, and impenetrable as he thought the veil to I)e under which he concealed his designs, there were several things in his conduct which alarmed the emperor amidst his security, and tempted him frequently to suspect that he was meditating something extraordinary. As these sus- picions took their rise from circumstances inconsiderable in themselves, or of an ambiguous as well as uncertain nature, they were more than counterbalanced by Maurice's address ; and the emperor would not lightly give up his confidence in a man, whom he had once trusted and loaded with favours. One particular alone seemed to be of such consequence, that he thonght it necessary to demand an explanation with regard, to it. The troops, which George of Mecklenburg had taken into pay after the capitulation of ]\Iagdeburg, having fixed their quarters in Thuringia, lived at discretion on the lands of the rich ecclesiastics in their neighbourhood. Their licence and rapaciousness were intolerable. Such as felt or dreaded their exactions com- plained loudly to the emperor, and represented them as a body of men kept in readiness for some desperate enter- prise. But Maurice, partly by extenuating the enormities of which they had been guilty, partly by representing the impossibility of disbanding these troops, or of keeping them to regular discipline, unless the arrears still due to them by the emperor were paid, either removed the apprehensions which this had occasioned, or, as Charles was not in a con- dition to satisfy the demands of these soldiers, obliged him to be silent with regard to the matter.^^ The time of action was now approaching. Maurice had privately dispatched Albert of Brandenburg to Paris, in order to confirm his league with Henry, and to hasten the "* ArnokU Vita Mauiit. ap. Menkiu. ii. p. 1220. 23 Sleid. p. 549. Thuan. p. 339. 298- CIRCUMSTANCES WHICH CONTRIBUTED [bookx. march of the French arm}'". He had taken measures to bring his own subjects together on the first summons ; he had provided for the security of Saxony, while he should be absent with the army ; and he hekl the troops in Thu- ringia, on which he chiefly depended, ready to advance on a moment's warning. All these complicated operations were carried on without being discovered by the court at Inspruck, and the emperor remained there in perfect tran- quillity, busied entirely in counteracting the intrigues of the pope's legate at Trent, and in settling the conditions on which the protestant divines should be admitted into the council, as if there had not been any transaction of greater moment in agitation. This credulous security in a prince, who, by his sagacity in observing the conduct of all around him, was connuonly led to an excess of distrust, may seem unaccountable, and has been imputed to infatuation. But, besides the exqui- site address with which Maurice concealed his intentions, two circumstances contributed to the delusion. The gout had returned upon Charles soon after his arrival at Inspruck, with an increase of violence ; and his constitution being broken by such frequent attacks, he was seldom able to exert his natural vigour of mind, or to consider affairs with his usual vigilance and penetration ; and Granvellc, bishop of Arras, his prime minister, though one of the most subtle statesmen of that or perhaps of any age, was on this occa- sion the dupe of his own craft. He eiiteitained such a high opinion of his own abilities, and held the political talents of the Germans in such contenq)t, that he despised all the intimations given him concerning ]\Iaurice's secret machi- nations, or the dangerous designs which he was carrying on. When the duke of Alva, whose dark suspicious mind har- boured many doubts concerning the elector's sincerity, proposed calling him immediately to court to answer for his conduct, Granvellc replied with great scorn, that these apprehensions were groundless, and that a drunken German BOOK X.] TO DECEIVE THE E^IPEROR. 299 head was too gross to form any scheme Avhich he could not easily penetrate and baffle. Nor did he assume this peremptory tone merely from confidence in his own dis- cernment ; he had bribed two of Maurice's ministers, and received from them frequent and minute information con- cerning all their master's motions. But through this very channel, by which he expected to gain access to all Maurice's counsels, and even to his thoughts, such intel- ligence was conveyed to him as completed his deception. Maurice fortunately discovered the correspondence of the two traitors with Granvelle, but instead of punishing them for their crime, he dexterously availed himself of their fraud, and turned his own arts against the bishop. He affected to treat these ministers with greater confidence than ever; he admitted them to his consultations ; he seemed to lay open his heart to them ; and taking care all the while to let them be acquainted with nothing but what it was his interest should be known, they transmitted to Inspruck such accounts as possessed Granvelle with a firm belief of his sincerity as well as good intentions.^" The emperor himself, in the fulness of security, was so little moved by a memorial, in the name of the ecclesiastical electors, admonishing him to be on his guard against Maurice, that he made fight of this inteUigence ; and his answer to them abounds with declarations of his entire and confident reliance on the fidelity as well as attachment of that prince. ^^ At last Maurice's preparations were completed, and he had the satisfaction to find that his intrigues and designs were still unknown. But, though now ready to take the field, he did not lay aside the arts which he had hitlierto employed ; and by one piece of craft more, he deceived his enemies a few days longer. He gave out that he was about to begin that journey to Inspruck of which he had so often talked, and he took one of the ministers whom Granvelle 3" Melvil's Memoirs, fol. edit. p. 12. 3' Sleid. p. 535. 300 MAURICE PUBLISHES A MANIFESTO [book x. Iiacl bribed, to attend him tliither. After travelling post a few stages, he pretended to be indisposed by the fatigue of the journey, and dispatching the suspected minister to make his apology to the emperor for this delay, and to assure him that he would be at Inspruck within a few days, he mounted on horseback, as soon as this spy on his actions was gone, rode full speed towards Thuringia, joined his army, which amounted to twenty thousand foot and five thousand horse, and put it immediately in motion.''" At the same time he published a manifesto, containing his reasons for taking arms. These were three in number : that he might secure the protestant religion, which was threatened with immediate destruction ; that he might maintain the constitution and laws of the empire, and save Germany from being subjected to the dominion of an abso- lute monarch ; that he might deliver the landgrave of Hesse from the miseries of a long and unjust imprisonment. By the first, he roused all the favourers of the reformation, a party formidable by their zeal as well as numbers, and rendered desperate by oppression. By the second, he in- terested all the friends of liberty, catholics no less than protestants, and made it their interest to unite with him in asserting the rights and privileges common to both. The third, besides the glory, which he acquired by his zeal to fulfil his engagements to the unhappy prisoner, was become a cause of general concern, not only from the com- passion which the landgrave's sufferings excited, but from indignation at the injustice and rigour of the emperor's proceedings against him. Together with ]\Iauricc's mani- festo, another a])pcarcd in the name of Albert, marquis of Brandenburg Culmbach, who had joined him with a body of adventurers, whom he had drawn togctlier. The same '- Mclv. Mem. p. 13. These cir- ceivcd Iiis information froin tlic rleotor cumstiincns conccniin<; tlio Saxon jialatinc, and as tliev arc perfectly ministers whom Granvellc had bribed, agreealdc lo t lie rest of Maurice's eon- arc not mentioned l)y tlic German iiia- duct, they may be considered as au- toriansi but as Sir James Melvil re- thcntic. BOOKX.] JUSTirilNG HIS CONDUCT. 301 grievances Avliicli Maurice had pointed out arc mentioned in it, but with an excess of virulence and animosity suitable to the character of the prince in whose name it Avas published. The king of Trance added to these a manifesto in his own name ; in which, after takhig notice of the ancient alliance between the French and German nations, both descended from the same ancestors, and, after mcntionhig the applications which, in consequence of this, some of the most illustrious among the German princes had made to liim for his protection, he declared that he now took arms to re-establish the ancient constitution of the empire, to deliver some of its princes from captivity, and to secure the privileges and independence of all the members of the Germanic bodv. In this manifesto, Henrv assumed the extraordinary title ol jjrotecfor of the liberties of Germany, and of its captive ])rinces ; and there was engraved on it u cap, the ancient symbol of freedom, placed between two daggers, in order to intimate to the Germans, that this bless- ing w'as to be acquired and secured by force of arms,^^ Maurice had now to act a part entirely new, but his flexible genius was capable of accommodating itself to every situation. The moment he took arms, he was as bold and enterprising in the field as he had been cautious and crafty in the cabinet. He advanced by rapid marches towards Upper Germany, All the tow^is in his "way opened their o;ates to him. He reinstated the magistrates whom the emperor had deposed, and gave possession of the churches to the protestant ministers wdiom he had ejected. He directed his march to Augsburg, and as the imperial garri- son, which was too inconsiderable to think of defcndins; it, retired immediately, he took possession of that great city, and made the same changes there as in the towns through which he had passed, ^^ 3^ Slcid. p. 549. Thuan. lib. x. p. o39. Mem. de Ribier, ii. p. 371. =■• Slcid. p. 555. Thuau. p. 342. 302 THE EMPEROR'S ASTONISHMENT. [bookx. No words can express the emperor's astonisliinent and consternation at events so unexpected. He saw a great number of the German princes in arms against him, and the rest either ready to join them, or wishing success to their enterprise. He beheld a poAverful monarch united with them in close league, seconding their operations in person, at the head of a formidable army, while he, through negligence and credulity, which exposed him no Ilss to scorn than to danger, had neither made, nor was in condi- tion to make, any effectual provision, either for crushing his rebelhous subjects, or resisting the invasion of the foreign enemy. Part of his Spanish troops had been ordered into Hungary against the Turks : the rest had marched back to Italy, upon occasion of the war in the duchy of Parma. The bands of veteran Germans had been dismissed, because he was not able to pay them, or had entered into Maurice's service after the siege of Magde- burg ; and he remained at Inspruck with a body of soldiers hardly strong enough to guard his own person. His trea- sury was as much exhausted as his army was reduced. He had received no remittances for some time from the New World. He had forfeited all credit Avith the merchants of Genoa and Venice, who refused to lend him money, though tempted by the offer of exorbitant interest. Thus Charles, though undoubtedly the most considerable poten- tate in Christendom, and capable of exerting the gieatest strength, his power, notwithstanding the violent attack made upon it, being still imimpaired, found himself in a situation which rendered him unable to make such a sudden and vigorous effort as the juncture required, and was neces- sary to have saved him from the present danger. In this situation, the emperor placed all his hopes on negotiating ; the only resource of such as are conscious of their own weakness. Put thinking it inconsistent with his dignity to make the first advances to subjects who were in arms against him, he avoided that indecorum by em})loying BOOK X.] PROGRESS OP TIIE FRENCH ARMY. 303 tlie mediation of his brother Ferdinand. Maurice, confiding in his own talents to conduct any negotiation in such a manner as to derive advantage from it, and hoping that, by the appearance of facihty in hearkening to the first overture of accommo(hition, he might amuse the emperor, and tempt him to shicken the activity with which he was now preparing to defend himself, readily agreed to an interview with Ferdinand, in the town of Lintz in Austria ; and, having left his army to proceed on its march under the command of the duke of Mecklenburg, he repaired thither. Meanwhile, the king of France punctually fulfilled his engagements to his alHes. Fie took the field early, with a numerous and wxll-appointed army, and marching directly into Lorrain, Toul and Verdun opened their gates at his approach. His forces appeared next before Metz, and that city, by a fraudulent stratagem of the constable Montmo- rency, who, having obtained permission to pass through it with a small guard, introduced as many troops as were sufficient to overpower the garrison, was likewise seized without bloodshed. Henry made his entry into all these towns with great pomp; he obliged the inhabitants to swear allegiance to him, and annexed those important conquests to the French monarchy. He left a strong garrison in ]\Ietz. From thence he advanced towards Alsace, m order to attempt new conquests, to which the success that had hitherto attended his arms invited him.^^ The conference at Lintz did not produce any accommo- dation. Maurice, when he consented to it, seems to have had nothing in view but to amuse the emperor ; for he made such demands both in behalf of his confederates and their ally, the French king, as he knew would not be accepted by a prince too haughty to submit, at once, to conditions dictated by an enemy. But, however firmly Maurice adhered during the negotiation to the interests of ==" Thuau. p. 31.9» 304 MAURICE ADVANCES TOWAEDS IXSPRUCK. [bookx. his associates, or liow steadily soever lie kept in view tlie objects which had induced him to take arms, he often professed a strong incKnation to terminate the differences with the emperor in an amicable manner. Encouraged by this appearance of a pacific disposition, Ferdinand proposed a second interview at Passau on the tweuty-sixth of May, and that a truce should commence on that day, and continue to the tenth of June, in order to give them leisure for adjusting all the points in dispute. Upon this, Maurice rejoined his army on the ninth of May, which had now advanced to Gundelfingen. lie put his troops in motion next morning ; and as sixteen days yet remained for action before the commencement of the truce, he resolved, during that period, to venture upon an enterprise, the success of which would be so decisive as to render the negotiations at Passau extremely short, and entitle him to treat upon his own terms. He foresaw that the prospect of a cessation of arms, which was to take place so soon, together with the opinion of his earnestness to re- establish peace, with which he had artfully amused Ferdi- nand, could hardly fail of inspiring the emperor with such false hopes, that he would naturally become remiss, and relapse into some degree of that security which had already been so fatal to him. Relying on this conjecture, he marched directly at the head of his army towards Inspruck, and advanced with the most rapid motion that could be given to so great a body of troops. On the eighteenth he arrived at Piessen, a post of great consequence, at the entrance into the Tyrolese. There he found a body of eight hundred men, whom the emperor had assembled, strongly intrenched, in order to oppose his progress, lie attacked them instantly with such violence and impetuosity, that they abandoned their lines precipitately, and, falling back on a second body posted near lluten, communicated the })anic terror with which they themselves had been seized, to those troops ; so that they likewise took to flight after a feeble resistance. BOOK X.] CAPTURE OF THE CASTLE OF EHRENBERG. 305 Elated with this success, which exceeded his most san- guine hopes, Maurice pressed forward to Ehrenbcrg, a castle situated on a high and steep precipice, which com- manded the only pass through the mountains. As this fort had been surrendered to the protestants at the begin- ning of the Smalkaldic war, because tlie garrison was then too weak to defend it, the emperor, sensible of its import- ance, had taken care, at this juncture, to throw into it a body of troops sufficient to maintain it against the greatest army. But a shepherd, in pursuing a goat which had strayed from his flock, having discovered an unknow^n path by which it was possible to ascend to the top of the rock, came with this seasonable piece of intelligence to Maurice. A small band of chosen soldiers, under the command of George of Mecklenburg, was instantly ordered to follow this guide. They set out in the evening, and clambering up the rugged track with infinite fatigue as well as danger, they reached the sunniiit unperceived ; and, at an hour which had been agreed on, when Maurice began the assault on the one side of the castle, they appeared on the other, ready to scale the walls, which were feeble in that place, because it had been hitherto deemed inaccessible. The garrison, struck with terror at the sight of an enemy on a quarter where they had thought themselves perfectly secure, immediately threw down their arms. Maurice, almost with- out bloodshed, and, which was of greater consequence to him, without loss of time, took possession of a place, the reduction of which might have retarded him long, and have required the utmost efforts of his valour and skill. ^"^ ]\laurice was now only two days' march from Inspruck ; and, without losing a moment, he ordered his infantry to advance thither, having left his cavalry, which was unser- viceable in that mountainous country, at Fiessen, to guard the mouth of the pass. lie proposed to advance with such rapidity as to anticipate any accounts of the loss of Ehren- ^« Amoldi Vita Maurit. p. 123. VOL. II. X 306 FLIGHT OF THE EMPEROR, [book x. berg, and to surprise the emperor, together with his attend- ants, in an open town incapable of defence. But just as his troops began to move, a battahon of mercenaries mutinied, declaring that they would not stir until they had received the gratuity, which, according to the custom of that age, they claimed as the recompence due to them for having taken a place by assault. It was with great difficulty as well as danger, and not without some considerable loss of time, that Maurice quieted this insurrection, and prevailed on the soldiers to follow him to a place where he promised them such rich booty as would be an ample reward for all their services. To the delay occasioned by this unforeseen accident, the emperor owed his safety. He was informed of the approach- ing danger late in the evening, and knowing that nothing could save him but a speedy flight, he instantly left Inspruck, without regarding the darkness of the night, or the violence of the rain which happened to fall at that time ; and, not- withstanding the debility occasioned by the gout, which rendered him unable to bear any motion but that of a litter, he travelled by the light of torches, taking his way over the Alps by roads almost impassable. His courtiers and attend- ants followed him with equal precipitation, some of them on such horses as they could hastily procure, many of them on foot, and all in the utmost confusion. In this miserable plight,very unlike the })omp with which Charles had appeared during the five preceding years as the conqueror of Ger- many, he arrived at length with his dejected train at Villach in Carinthia, and scarcely thought himself secure even in that remote, inaccessible corner. Maurice entered Inspruck a few hours after the emperor and his attendants had left it; and enrage d that the prey should ( scape out of his hands when he was just ready to seize it, he ])ursued them some miles ; but finding it impos.^ible to overtake persons to whom their fear gave speed, he returned to the town, and abandoned all the emperor's baggage, BOOK X.] AND IklAURICE'S ENTRY INTO INSPRUCK. 307 together with that of his ministers, to be plundered by the soldiers ; while he preserved untouciied everything belong- in": to the kins: of the Romans, either because he had formed some friendly connexion with that prince, or because he wished to have it believed that such a connexion subsisted between them. As there now remained only three days to the commencement of the truce (with such nicety had Maurice calculated his operations), he set out for Passau, that he might meet Ferdinand on the day appointed. Before Cliarles left Inspruck, he withdrew the guards placed on the degraded elector of Saxony, whom, during five years, he had carried about with him as a prisoner ; and set him entirely at liberty, either with an intention to embar- rass Maurice by letting loose a rival who might dispute his title to his dominions and dignity, or from a sense of the indecency of detaining him a prisoner, while he himself ran the risk of being deprived of his own liberty. But that prince, seeing no other way of escaping than that which the emperor took, and abhorring the thoughts of falling into the hands of a kinsman whom he justly considered as the author of all his misfortunes, chose rather to accompany Charles in his flight, and to expect the final decision of his fate from the treaty which was now approaching. These were not the only effects which Maurice's operations produced. It was no sooner known at Trent that he had taken arms, than a general consternation seized the fathers of the council. The German prelates immediately returned home, that they might provide for the safety of their respec- tive territories. The rest were extremely impatient to be gone ; and the legate, who had hitherto disappointed all the endeavours of the imperial ambassadors to procure an audi- ence in the council for the protestant divines, laid hold with joy on such a plausible pretext for dismissing an assembly which he had found it so difficult to govern. In a congre- gation held on the twenty-eighth of April, a decree was issued proroguing the council during two years, and appoint- x2 308 THE COUNCIL OF TRENT. [bookx. ing it to meet at tlie expiration of that time, if peace were then re-estabhshed in Europe.^'' Tliis prorogation, however, continued no less than ten years ; and the proceedings of the council, when re-assembled in the year one thousand five hundred and sixty-two, fall not within the period pre- scribed to this history. The convocation of this assembly had been passionately desired by all the states and princes in Christendom, who, from the wisdom as well as piety of prelates representing the wliole body of the faithful, expected some charitable and efficacious endeavours towards composing the dissen- sions which unhappily had arisen in the church. But the several popes by whose authority it was called had other objects in view. They exerted all their power or policy to attain these ; and by the abilities as well as address of their legates, by the ignorance of many of the prelates, and by the servility of the indigent Italian bishops, acquired such influence in the council, that they dictated all its decrees, and framed them, not with an intention to restore unity and concord to the church, but to establish their own dominion, or to confirm those tenets, upon which they imagined that dominion to be founded. Doctrines, which had hitherto been admitted upon the credit of tradition alone, and received with some latitude of interpretation, were defined with a scrupulous nicety, and confirmed by the sanction of autho- rity. Rites, which had formerly been observed only in defer- ence to custom supposed to be ancient, were established by the decrees of the church, and declared to be essential parts of its worship. The breach, instead of being closed, was widened, and made irreparable. In })lace of any attempt to reconcile the contending parties, a line was drawn with such studied accuracy as ascertained and marked out the distinction between them. This still serves to keep them at a distance, and, without some signal interposition of Divine Providence, must render the separation perpetual. =>' E. Paul, p. 353. 1500KX.] ITS DECREES AND ITS HISTORIANS. 309 Our knowledge of the proceedings of this assembly is de- rived from three different aiitliors. Father Paul, of Venice, wrote his history of the Council of Trent while the memory of what had passed there was recent, and some who had been members of it were still alive. He has exposed the intrigues and artifices by which it was conducted, with a freedom and severity which have given a deep wound to the credit of the council. He has described its deliberations, and ex- plained its decrees, with such perspicuity and depth of thought, with such various erudition, and such force of rea- son, as have justly entitled his work to be placed among the most admired historical compositions. About half a century thereafter, the Jesuit Pallavicini published his history of the council, in opposition to that of Father Paul, and by employ- ing all the force of an acute and refining genius to invali- date the credit or to confute the reasonings of his antagonist, lie labours to prove, by artful apologies for the proceedings of the council, and subtile interpretations of its decrees, that it deliberated with impartiality, and decided with judg- ment as well as candour. Vargas, a Spanish doctor of laws, who was appointed to attend the imperial ambassadors at Trent, sent the bishop of Arras a regular account of the transactions there, explaining all the arts which the legate employed to influence or overawe the council. His letters have been published, in which he inveighs against the papal court with that asperity of censure which was natural to a man whose situation enabled him to observe its intrigues thoroughly, and who was obliged to exert all his attention and talents in order to disappoint them. But whichsoever of these authors an intelligent person takes for his guide, in forming a judgment concerning the spirit of the council, he must discover so nuich ambition as well as artifice among some of the members, so much ignorance and corruption among others ; he must observe such a large infusion of human policy and passions, mingled with such a scanty portion of that simplicity of heart, sanctity of maimers, and 3K) HENRY'S UNSUCCESSFUL EFFORTS [book x. love of truth, which alone qualify men to determine what doctrines are worthy of God, and what worship is accept- able to him ; that he will find it no easy matter to believe that any extraordinary influence of the Holy Ghost hovered over this assembly, and dictated its decrees. While Maurice was employed in negotiating with the king of the Romans at Lintz, or in making war on the emperor in the Tyrol, the French king had advanced into Alsace as far as Strasburg ; and having demanded leave of the senate to march through the city, he hoped that, by repeating the same fraud which he had practised at Metz, he might render himself master of the place, and by that means secure a passage over the Rhine into the heart of Germany. But the Strasburghers, instructed and put on their guard by the credulity and misfortune of their neigh- bours, shut their gates ; and, having assembled a garrison of five thousand soldiers, repaired their fortifications, razed the houses in their suburbs, and determined to defend them- selves to the utmost. At the same time they sent a depu- tation of their most respectable citizens to the king, in order to divert him from making any hostile attempt upon them. The electors of Treves and Cologne, the duke of Cleves, and other princes in the neighbourhood, interposed in their behalf; beseeching Henry that he would not forget so soon the title which lie had generously assumed ; and, instead of being the deliverer of Germany, become its oppressor. The Swiss cantons seconded them with zeal, soliciting Ilcnry to spare a city which had long been con- nected witli their community in friendship and alUancc. Powerful as this united intercession was, it woukl not have prevailed on Henry to forego a prize of so much value, if he had been in a condition to have seized it. But, in that age, the method of subsisting numerous armies at a distance from tlie frontiers of their own country, was im- perfectly understood ; and neither the revenues of princes, nor their experience in the art of war, were c(pial to the BOOKX.] TO SURPRISE STRASBURG. 311 great and complicated efforts which such an undertaking required. The French, though not far removed from their own frontier, began ah-eady to suffer from scarcity of provisions, and had no sufficient magazines collected to support them during a siege which must necessarily have been of great length/^ At the same time, the queen of Hungary, governess of the Low Countries, had assembled a considerable body of troops, which, under the command of Martin de Rossem, laid waste Champagne, and threat- ened the adjacent provinces of France. These concurring circumstances obliged the king, though with reluctance, to abandon the enterprise. But being willing to acquire some merit with his allies by this retreat, which he could not avoid, he pretended to the Swiss that he had taken the resolution merely in compliance with their request;"^ and then, after giving orders that all the horses in his army should be led to drink in the Rhine, as a proof of his having pushed his conquest so far, he marched back towards Champagne. While the French king and the main army of the con- federates w^ere thus employed, Albert of Brandenburg was entrusted wath the command of a separate body of eight thousand men, consisting chiefly of mercenaries who had resorted to his standard, rather from the hope of plunder than the expectation of regular pay. That prince seeing himself at the head of such a number of desperate adven- turers, ready to follow wherever he should lead them, soon began to disdain a state of subordination, and to form such extravagant schemes of aggrandizing himself as seldom occur even to ambitious minds, unless when civil w^ar or violent factions roused them to bold exertions, by alluring them with immediate hopes of success. Full of these aspiring thoughts, Albert made war in a manner very different from the other confederates. He endeavoured to spread the terror of his arms by the rapidity of his motions, ^» Thuan. pp. 351, 352. '^ Slcid. p. 557. Brauton.e, torn. vii. p. 39. 312 OPERATIONS OF iVLBERT OF BRANDENBURG, [bookx. as well as the extent and rigour of his devastations ; ho exacted contributions wherever he came, in order to amass such a sum of money as would put it in his power to keep his army together ; he laboured to get possession of Nurem- burg, Ulm, or some other of the free cities in Upper Germany, in which, as a capital, he might fix the seat of his power. But, finding these cities on their guard, and in a condition to resist his attacks, he turned all his rage against the popish ecclesiastics, whose territories he plun- dered with such wanton and merciless barbarity, as gave them a very unfavourable impression of the spirit of that reformation in religion, with zeal for which he pretended to be animated. The bishops of Bamberg and Wurzburg, by their situation, lay particularly exposed to his ravages : he obliged the former to transfer to him, in perpetuity, almost one-half of his extensive diocese ; and compelled the latter to advance a great sum of money, in order to save his territories from ruin and desolation. During all those wild salhes, Albert paid no regard either to IMaurice's orders, whose commands as generalissimo of the league he had engaged to obey, or to the remonstrances of the other con- federates ; and manifestly discovered that he attended only to his own private emolument, without any solicitude about the common cause, or the general objects which had induced them to take arms.'" Maurice having ordered his army to march back into Bavaria, and having published a proclamation enjoining the Lutheran clergy and instructors of youth to resume the exercise of their functions in all the cities, schools, and universities, from which they had been ejected, met Ferdi- nand at Passau on the twcnty-sixtii day of May. As matters of the greatest consequence to the future peace and independence of the emj)ire were to be setthd in this congress, the eyes of all Germany Avere fixed upon it. Besides Ferdinand and the imperial ambassadors, the duke <" Sleid. p. 5G1. Tlmau. p. 307. BOOKx.] THE NEGOTIATIONS AT PASSAU. 313 of Bavaria, the bishops of Saltzburg and Aichstadt, the ministers of all the electors, together with deputies from most of the considerable princes and free cities, resorted to Passau. Maurice, in the name of his associates, and the king of the Romans as the emperor's representative, opened the negotiation. The princes who were present, together with the deputies of such as were absent, acted as inter- cessors or mediators between them. Maurice, in a long discourse, explained the motives of his own conduct. After havinu' enumerated all the uncon- stitutional and oppressive acts of the emperor's administra- tion, he, agreeably to the manifesto which he had published when he took arms against him, limited his demands to three articles -. that the landgrave of Hesse should be immediately set at liberty ; that the grievances in the civil government of the empire should be redressed ; and that the protestants should be allowed the public exercise of their religion without molestation. Ferdinand and the imperial ambassadors discovering their miwillingncss to gratify him with regard to all these points, the mediators wrote a joint letter to the emperor, beseeching him to deliver Germany from the calamities of a civil war, by giving such satisfaction to Maurice and his party as might induce them to lay down their arms ; and, at the same time, they prevailed upon Maurice to grant a prolongation of the truce for a short time, during which they undertook to procure the emperor's final answer to his demands. This request was presented to the emperor in the name of all the princes of the empire, popish as well as protestant, in the name of such as had lent a helping hand to forward his ambitious schemes, as well as of those who had viewed the progress of his power with jealousy and dread. The uncommon and cordial unanimity with which they con- curred at this juncture in enforcing Maurice's demands, and in recommending peace, flowed from difterent causes. Such as were most attached to the Roman catholic church 314 STATE OF PAHTIES [book x. could not help observing that the protestant confederates were at the head of a numerous anuy, while the emperor was but just beginning to provide for his own defence. They foresaw that great efforts would be required of them, and would be necessary on their part, in order to cope with enemies who had been allowed to get the start so far, and to attain such formidable power. Experience had taught them that the fruit of all these efforts would be reaped by the emperor alone; and the more complete any victory proved which they should gain, the faster would they bind their own fetters, and render them the more intolerable. These reflections made them cautious how they contributed a second time by their indiscreet zeal to put the emperor in possession of power which would be fatal to the liberties of their country. Notwithstanding the intolerant spirit of bigotry in that age, they chose rather that the protestants should acquire that security for their religion which they demanded, than, by assisting Charles to oppress them, to give such additional force to the imperial prerogative as would overturn the constitution of the empire. To all these considerations, the dread of seeing Germany laid waste by a civil war added new force. Many states of the empire already felt the destructive rage of Albert's arms ; others dreaded it; and all wished fur an accommodation between the emperor and Maurice, which they hoped would save them from that cruel scourge. Such WTre the reasons that induced so many princes, notwithstanding the variety of their political interests, and the opposition in their religious sentiments, to unite in recommending to the emperor an accommodation with jMaurice, not only as a salutary, but as a necessary measure. The motives which prompted Charles to desire it were not fewer, or of less weight, lie was perfectly sensible of the sup(;ri()rity which the confederates had acquired through his own negligence ; and he now felt the insulliciency of his own resources to oppose them. His Spanish subjects. BooKx.] IN GERMANY. 315 disgusted at his long absence, and weary of endless wars which were of little benefit to their country, refused to furnish him with any considerable supply either of men or money ; aud although, by his address or importunity, he might have hoped to draw from them at last more effectual aid, that he knew was too distant to be of any service in the present exigency of his affairs. His treasury was drained; his veteran forces were dispersed or disbanded ; and he could not depend much either on the fidelity or courage of the new-levied soldiers whom he was collecting. There was no hope of repeating with success the same artifices which had weakened and ruined the Smalkaldic league. As the end at which he aimed was now known, he could no longer employ the specious pretexts which had formerly concealed his ambitious designs. Every prince in Germany was alarmed and on his guard ; and it was vain to think of blinding them a second time to such a degree as to make one part of them instruments to enslave the other. The spirit of a confederacy, whereof Maurice was the head, experience had taught him to be very different from that of the league of Smalkalde ; and from what he had already felt, he had no reason to flatter hiuiself that its counsels would be as irresolute, or its efforts as timid and feeble. If he should resolve on continuing the war, he might be assured that the most considerable states in Germany woidd take part in it against him ; and a dubious neutrality Avas the utmost he could expect from the rest. While the confederates found full employment for his arms in one quarter, the king of France would seize the favourable opportunity and push on his operations in another with almost certain success. That monarch had already made conquests in the empire, which Charles was no less eager to recover than impatient to be revenged on him for aiding his malecontcnt subjects. Though Henry had now retired from the banks of the Rhine, he had only varied the scene of hostilities, having invaded the Low Countries with all 316 FERDIXAXD ZEALOUS TO PROMOTE {bookx. his forces. The Turks, roused by the solicitations of the French king, as well as stimulated by resentment against Ferdinand for having violated the truce in Hungary, had prepared a powerful fleet to ravage the coasts of Naples and Sicily, which he had left almost defenceless, by calling thence the greatest part of the regular troops to join the army wdiich he was now assembling. Ferdinand, who went in person to Villach, in order to lay before the emperor the result of the conferences at Passau, had likewise reasons peculiar to himself for desiring an accommodation. These prompted him to second, witli the greatest earnestness, the arguments wliicli the princes assembled there had employed in recommending it. He had observed, not without secret satisfaction, the fatal blow that had been given to the despotic power which his brother had usurped in the empire. He was extremely solicitous to prevent Charles from recovering his former superiority, as he foresaw that ambitious prince would immediately resume, with increased eagerness, and with a better chance of suc- cess, his favourite scheme of transmitting that power to his son, by excluding his brother from the right of succession to the imperial throne. On this account he Avas willing to contribute towards circumscribing the imperial authority, in order to render his own possession of it certain. Besides, Solyman, exasperated at the loss of Transylvania, and still more at the fraudulent arts by which it had been seized, had ordered into the field an army of a hundred thousand men, which having defeated a great body of Ferdinand's troops, and taken several places of importance, threatened not only to complete the conquest of the ])rovinco, but to drive them out of that part of Hungary which was still subject to his jurisdiction. He was unable to resist such a mighty enemy ; the emperor, while engaged in a domestic war, could afford him no aid ; and he could not even hope to draw from Germany the contingent, either of troops or money, usually furnished to re])el the invasions of the BOOKX.] AN ADJUSTMENT OF DIFFERENCES. 317 infidels. Maurice, Laving observed Ferdinand's perplexity ■with regard to this last point, had offered, if peace were re-established on a secure foundation, that he would march in person with his troops into Hungary against the Turks. Such Avas the effect of this well-timed proposal, that Fer- dinand, destitute of every other prospect of relief, became the most zealous advocate whom the confederates could have employed to urge their claims, and there was hardly anything that they could have demanded which he would not have chosen to grant, rather than have retarded a paci- fication, to which he trusted as the only means of saving his Hungarian crown. When so many causes conspired in rendering an accom- modation eligible, it might have been expected that it would have taken place immediately. But the inflexibility of the emperor's temper, together with his unwillingness at once to relinquish objects which he had long pursued with such earnestness and assiduity, counterbalanced, for some time, the force of all the motives which disposed him to peace, and not only put that event at a distance, but seemed to render it uncertain. When Maurice's demands, together with the letter of the mediators at Passau, were presented. to him, he peremptorily refused to redress the grievances wliich were pointed out, nor would he agree to any stipu- lation for the immediate security of the protestant religion, but proposed referring both these to the determination of a future diet. On his part, he required that instant repara- tion should be made to all who, during the present war, had suffered either by the licentiousness of the confederate troops, or the exactions of their leaders. Maurice, who was well acquainted with the emperor's arts, immediately concluded that he had nothing in view by these overtures but to amuse and deceive; and, therefore, without listening to Ferdinand's entreaties, he left Passau abruptly, and joining his troops, which were encamped at Mergentheim, a city in Franconia, belonging to the knights 318 DELIBERATIOKS OF MAURICE [book x. of the Teutonic order, he put them in motion, and renewed hostihties. As three thousand men in the emperor's pay had thrown themselves into Frankfort on the Maine, and might from thence invest the neighbouring country of Hesse, he marched towards that city, and laid siege to it in form. The briskness of this enterprise, and the vigour with which Maurice carried on his approaches against the town, gave such an alarm to the emperor, as disposed him to lend a more favourable ear to Ferdinand's arguments in behalf of an accommodation. Firm and haughty as his nature was, he found it necessary to bend, and signified his willingness to make concessions on his part, if Maurice, in return, would abate somewhat of the rigour of his demands. Ferdinand, as soon as he perceived that his brother began to yield, did not desist from his importunities, until he pre- vailed upon him to declare what was the utmost that he would grant for the security of the confederates. Having gained this difficult point, he instantly despatched a messenger to Maurice's camp, and, imparting to him the emperor's final resolution, conjured him not to frustrate his endeavours for the re-establishment of peace ; or, by an unseasonable obsti- nacy on his side, to disappoint the wishes of all Germany for that salutary event. Maurice, notwithstanding the prosperous situation of his afiairs, was strongly inclined to listen to this advice. The emperor, though overreached and surprised, had now begun to assemble troops, and, however slow his motions might be, while the first effects of his consternation remained, he was sensible that Charles must at last act with vigour pro- portional to the extent of his power and territories, and lead into Germany an army formidable by its numbers, and still more by the terror of his name, as well as the remembrance of his past victories. He could scarcely hope that a confe- deracy, coniposcd of so many members, would continue to operate with union and perseverance sufficient to resist the consistent and well-directed efforts of an army, at the abso- BOOK X.] AND HIS DESIRE FOR PEACE. 319 lute disposal of a leader accustomed to command and to conquer. He felt already, although lie had not hitherto experienced the shock of any adverse event, that he himself was the head of a disjointed body. He saw, from the example of Albert of Brandenburg, how difficult it would be, with all his address and credit, to prevent any particular member from detaching himself from the whole, and how impossible to recal him to his proper rank and subordina- tion. This filled him with apprehensions for the common cause. Another consideration gave him no less disquiet with regard to his own particular interests. By setting at liberty the degraded elector, and by repealing the act by which that prince was deprived of his hereditary honours and dominions, the emperor had it in his power to wound him in the most tender part. The efforts of a prince beloved by his ancient subjects, and revered by all the protestant party, in order to recover what had been unjustly taken from him, could hardly have failed of exciting commotions in Saxony, which would endanger all that he had acquired at the expense of so much dissimula- tion and artifice. It was no less in the emperor's power to render vain all the solicitations of the confederates in behalf of the landgrave. He had only to add one act of violence more to the injustice and rigour with which he had already treated him; and he had accordingly threatened the sons of that unfortunate prince, that if they persisted in their present enterprise, instead of seeing their father restored to liberty, they should hear of his having suffered the punishment which his rebellion had merited.'*' Having deliberated upon all these points with his asso- ciates, Maurice thought it more prudent to accept of the conditions offered, though less advantageous than those which he had proposed, than again to commit all to the doubtful issue of war.^" He repaired forthwith to Passau, and signed the treaty of peace ; of which the chief articles « Sleid. p. 571. ^ Sleid. Hist. pp. 563, &c. Tliuau. lib. x. pp. 359, &c. 320 THE TREATY OF PASSAU. [bookx. were, That, before the twelfth day of August, the confede- rates shall lay down their arms, and disband their forces ; that, on or before that day, the landgrave shall be set at liberty, and conveyed in safety to his castle of Rheinfels ; that a diet shall be held within six months, in order to deliberate concerning the most proper and effectual method of preventing for the future all disputes and dissensions about religion ; that, in the meantime, neither the emperor nor any other prince shall, upon any pretext whatever, offer any injury or violence to such as adhered to the Confession of Augsburg, but allow them to enjoy the free and undisturbed exercise of their religion ; that, iu return, the protestants shall not molest the catholics either in the exercise of their ecclesiastical jurisdiction, or in performing their rehgious ceremonies ; that the imperial chauiber shall administer justice impartially to persons of both parties, and protestants to be admitted indiscriminately with the catholics to sit as judges in that court ; that if the next diet should not be able to terminate the disputes with regard to religion, the stipulations in the present treaty in behalf of the protestants shall continue for ever in full force and vigour ; that none of the confederates shall be liable to any action on account of Avhat had happened during the course of the war; that the consideration of those encroachments which had been made, as Maurice pretended, upon the constitution and liberties of the empire, shall be remitted to the a})proaching diet ; that Albert of Brandenburg shall be comprehended in the treaty, provided he shall accede to it, and disband his forces before the twelfth of August.'" Such Avas the memorable treaty of Passau, that over- turned the vast fabric, in erecting which Charles had employed so many years, and had exerted the utmost efforts of his power and i)olicy; that annulled all his regu- lations with regard to religion, defeated all his hopes of rendering the imperial authority absolute and hereditary in ■•* llccucil dcs Traitcs, ii. p. 2G1. BooKx.] REFLECTIONS. 321 his family, and established the protestant church, which had hitherto subsisted precariously in Germany, through connivance or by expedients, upon a firm and secure basis Maurice reaped all the glory of having concerted and com- pleted this unexpected revolution. It is a singular cir- cumstance that the reformation should be indebted, for its security and full establishment in Germany, to the same hand which had brought it to the brink of destruction, and that both events should have been accomplished by the same arts of dissimulation. The ends, however, which Maurice had in view at those different junctures, seem to have been more attended to than the means by which he attained them ; and he was now as universally extolled for his zeal and public spirit as he had lately been condemned for his indifference and interested policy. It is no less worthy of observation, that the French king, a monarch zealous for the catholic faith, should employ his power in order to protect and maintain the reformation in the empire, at the very time when he was persecuting his own protestant subjects with all the fierceness of bigotry, and that the league for this purpose, which proved so fatal to the Romish church, should be negotiated and signed by a Eoman catholic bishop. So wonderfully doth the wisdom of God superintend and regulate the caprice of human pas- sions, and render them subservient towards the accomplish- ment of his own purposes. Little attention was paid to the interests of the French king during the negotiations at Passau. IMaurice and his associates having gained what they had in view, discovered no great solicitude about an ally, whon], perhaps, they reckoned to be overpaid for the assistance which he had given them, by his acquisitions in Lorrain. A short clause which they procured to be inserted in the treaty, importing that the king of France might communicate to the con- federates his particular pretensions or causes of hostility, which they would lay before the emperor, was the only VOL. II. Y 322 HENRY OF PRANCE. [bookx, sign that they gave of their remembering how much they had been indebted to him for their success. Henry expe- rienced the same treatment which every prince who lends his aid to the authors of a civil war may expect. As soon as the rage of faction began to subside, and any prospect of accommodation to open, his services were forgotten, and his associates made a merit with their sovereign of the ingratitude with which they abandoned their protector. But how much soever Henry might be enraged at the perfidy of his allies, or at the impatience with which they hastened to make their peace with the emperor at his expense, he was perfectly sensible that it was more his interest to keep well with the Germanic body than to resent the indignities offered him by any particular members of it. For that reason he dismissed the hostages which he had received from Maurice and his associates, and affected to talk in the same strain as formerly concerning his zeal for maintaining the ancient constitution and liberties of the empire. THE HISTORY OF THE REIGN E M P E R E CHARLES Y. BOOK XL Maurice marclics against the Turks — The Landgrave and the Elector recover tlieir Liberty — The Emperor makes War upon France — The Siege of Metz — Losses of the Emperor in Italy— Descent of tlie Turks upon tlie Kingdom of Naples — Confederacy under the lead of Maurice against Albert of Brandenburg — Maurice is slain in Battle, but Albert is defeated, and after- wards driven out of Germany — Success of the Emperor in the Netlierlands — His Losses in Hungary and Jtaly — The Eaniily Troubles of Solyman— The Ambition of his Mistress lloxalana, and the Fate of liis Son Mustapha — Marriage of Pliilip with Mary of England — EiForts of Mary to overthrow- Protestantism — Henry conducts a vigorous Campaign against the Emperor — Cosmo de' Medici's Schemes — The French under Strozzi defeated — Siege of Siena — Betreat of the Duke of Alva from Piedmont — Conspiracy to betray Metz discovered — Diet at Augsburg — Death of Pope Julius — Charles endeavours anew to acquire the Imperial Crown for his Son Philip — The Peace of Beligion establibhed— Pope Marcellus II.— Pope Paul IV., and the ambilious Schemes of his Nephews— The Emperor abdicates in favour of his Son Philip — Peace between France and Spain — The Pope attempts to rekindle War — Tlie Duke of Alva takes the Field against him — A Truce belvveen the Pope and Philip. [1552. J As soon as the treaty of Passau was signed, Maurice, in consequence of his engagements with Ferdinand, marched into Hungary at the head of twenty thousand men ; but the great superiority of the Turkish armies, the frequent mutinies both of the Spanish and German soldiers, occasioned by their want of })ay, together with the dissen- Y 2 324 THE LANDGEAVE AND ELECTOR [book xi. sions between Maurice and Castaldo, avIio was piqued at being obliged to resign the chief command to him, pre- vented his performing anything in tliat country suitable to his former fame, or of great benefit to the king of the RoQians.' When ]\Iain'ice set out for Hungary, the prince of Hesse parted from liim with the forces under his command, and marched back into his own country, that he might be ready to receive his father upon his return, and give up to him the reins of government which he had held during his absence. But fortune was not yet weary of persecuting the landgrave. A battalion of mercenary troops, which had been in the pay of Hesse, being seduced by Reifenberg, their colonel, a soldier of fortune, ready to engage in any enterprise, secretly Avithdrew from the young prince as he was marching homewards, and joined Albert of Branden- burg, who still continued in arms against the emperor, refusing to be included in the treaty of Passau. Unhappily for the landgrave, an account of this reached the Nether- lands just as he was dismissed from the citadel of Mechlin, where he had been confined, but before he had got beyond the frontiers of that country. The queen of Hungary, who governed there in her brother's name, incensed at such an open violation of the treaty to which he owed his liberty, issued orders to arrest him, and committed hiin again into the custody of the same Spanish caj)taiu who had guarded him for five years with the most severe vigdancc. Philip beheld all the horrors of his imprisonment renewed ; and his spirits subsiding in the same proportion as they had risen during the short interval in which he had enjoyed liberty, lie sunk into despair, and beheved himself to be doomed to perpetual captivity. But the matter being so explained to the emperor, as fully satisfied him tliat the revolt of lleifenberg's mercenaries could be imputed neither to the landgrave nor to his son, he gave orders for his ' Istuaiihaflii llibt. Ilungar. p. 2S8. Tliuaii. lib. x. p. 371. BOOK XI.] r EECOVEU THEIR LIBERTY. 325 release, and Philip at last obtained tlic liberty for which lie had so long languished.^ Put though he recovered his freedom, and was reinstated in his dominions, his sufferings seem to have broken the vigour, and to have extinguished the activity of his mind. From being the boldest as well as most enterprising prince in the empire, he became the most timid and cautious, and passed the remainder of his days in a pacific indolence. The degraded elector of Saxony likewise procured his liberty in consequence of the treaty of Passau. The emperor having been obliged to relincpiish all his schemes for extir- pating the protcstant religion, had no longer any motive for detaining him a prisoner; and being extremely solicitous at that juncture to recover the confidence and good-will of the Germans, wdiose assistance was essential to the success of the enterprise which he meditated against the king of France, he, among other expedients for that purpose, thought of releasing from imprisonment a prince whose merit enti- tled him no less to esteem, than his sufferings rendered him the object of compassion. John Frederick took pos- session, accordingly, of that part of his territories which had been reserved for him when Maurice w^as invested with the electoral dignity. As in this situation he continued to display the same virtuous magnanimity for which he had been conspicuous in a more prosperous and splendid state, and which he had retained amidst all his sufferings, he maintained during the remainder of his life that high reputation to which he had so just a title. The loss of Metz, Toul, and Verdun, had made a deep impression on the emjieror. Accustomed to terminate all his operations against France with advantage to himself, he thought that it nearly concerned his honour not to allow Henry the superiority in this war, or to suffer his own administration to be stained with the infamy of having permitted territories of such consequence to be dismembered ^ Sleid. p. 573. Belcarii Comment, p. 83i. 326 CHARLES'S DESIGNS AGAINST FRANCE. [bookxi. from the empire. This was no less a point of interest than of honour. As the frontier of Champagne was more naked, and ]aj more exposed than that of any province in France, Charles had frequently, during his wars with that kingdom, made inroads upon that quarter with great success and effect ; but if Henry were allowed to retain his late con- quests, France would gain such a formidable barrier on that side, as to be altogether secure, where formerly she had been Aveakest. On the other hand, the emperor had now lost as much, in point of security, as France had acquired ; and, being stripped of the defence which those cities afforded it, lay open to be invaded on a quarter where all the towns, having been hitherto considered as interior, and remote from any enemy, were but slightly fortified. These considerations determined Charles to attempt reco- vering the three towns of which Henry had made himself master ; and the preparations which he had made against Maurice and his associates, enabled him to carry his reso- lution into immediate execution. As soon, then, as the peace was concluded at Passau, he left his inglorious retreat at Villach, and advanced to Augsburg, at the head of a considerable body of Germans which he had levied, together with all the troops which he had drawn out of Italy and Spain. To these he added several battalions which, having been in the pay of the confederates, entered into his service when dismissed by them; and he prevailed likewise on some princes of the empire to join him with their vassals. In order to conceal the desthiation of this formidable army, and to guard against alarming the French king, so as to put him on preparing for the defence of his late conquests, he gave out that he was to inarch forthwith into Hungary, in order to second Maurice in his operations against the infidels. When he ])egan to advance towards the Rhine, and could no longer employ that pretext, he tried a new artifice, and spread a report that he took this route in order to chastise BOOK XI.] HENRY'S PRECAUTIONS. 327 Albert of Brandenburg, whose cruel exactions in that part of the empire called loudly for his interposition to check them. But the French, having got accpiainted at last witli arts by which they had been so often deceived, viewed all Charles's motions with distrust. Henry immediately dis- cerned the true object of his vast preparations, and resolved to defend the important conquests which he had gained with vigour equal to that with which they were about to be attacked. As he foresaw that the whole weight of the war would be turned against Metz, by whose fate that of Toul and Verdun would be determined, he nominated Francis of Lorrain, duke of Guise, to take the command in that city during the siege, the issue of which would equally affect the honour and interest of his country. His choice covdd not have fallen upon any person more worthy of that trust. The duke of Guise possessed in a high degree all the talents of courage, sagacity, and presence of mind, which render men eminent in military command. He w^as largely endowed wdth that magnanimity of soul which delights in bold enterprises, and aspires to fame by splendid and extraordinary actions. He repaired with joy to the dangerous station assigned him, as to a theatre on which he might display his great qualities under the immediate eye of his countrymen, all ready to applaud him. The martial genius of the French nobility in that age, wdiich considered it as the greatest reproach to remain inactive when there was any opportunity of signalizing their courage, prompted great numbers to follow^ a leader who was the darling as well as the pattern of every one that courted mili- tary fame. Several princes of the blood, many noblemen of the highest rank, and all the young officers who could obtain the king's permission, entered Metz as volunteers. By their presence they added spirit to the garrison, and enabled the duke of Guise to employ on every emergency persons eager to distinguish themselves, and fit to conduct any service. 328 THE DUKE OF GUISE. [bookxi. But with whatever alacrity the duke of Guise undertook the defence of Metz, he found everything, upon his arrival there, in such a situation as might have induced any person of less intrepid courage to despair of defending it with suc- cess. The city was of great extent, with Large suburbs ; the walls were in many places feeble and without ramparts; the ditch narrow; and the old towers, Avhich projected in- stead of bastions, were at too great distance from each other to defend the space between them. For all these defects he endeavoured to provide the best remedy which the time would permit. He ordered the suburbs, without sparing the monasteries or churches, not even that of St. Arnulpli, in whicli several kings of France had been buried, to be levelled with the ground ; but, in order to guard against the imputation of impiety, to which such a violation of so many sacred edifices, as well as of the ashes of the dead, might expose him, he executed this with much religious ceremony. Flaving ordered all the holy vestments and utensils, together with the bones of the kings, and other persons deposited in these churches, to be removed, they were carried in solemn procession to a church within the walls, he himself walkiiig before them bare-headed, with a torch in his hand, lie then pulled down such houses as stood near the walls, cleared and enlarged the ditch, re- paired the ruinous fortifications, and erected new ones. As it was necessary that all these works should be finished with the utmost expedition, he laboured at them with his OAvn hands ; the officers and volunteers imitated his ex- ample ; and the soldiers submitted with cheerfulness to the most severe and fiitiguing service, when they saw that their superiors did not decline to bear a part in it. At the same time he compelled all useless persons to leave the place; he filled the magazines with provisions and military stores ; lie burnt the mills, and destroyed the corn and forage for several miK's round the town. Such were his pojjular talents, as well as his arts of acquirhig an ascendant over BOOK XI.] THE EMPEROR INVESTS IVIETZ. 329 the iiiiiids of men, that tlie citizens seconded him with no less ardour than the sokliers ; and every other passion being swallowed up in the zeal to repulse the enemy, with wliich he inspired them, they beheld the ruin of their estates, together with the havoc which he made among their public and private buildings, without any emotion of resent- ment.^ Meantime the emperor, having collected all his forces, continued his march towards ]\Ietz. As he passed through the cities on the Riiine, he saw the dismal effects of that licentious and wasteful war which Albert had carried on in these parts. Upon his approach, that prince, though at the head of twenty thousand men, withdrew into Lorrain, as if he had intended to join the French king, whose arms he had quartered with his own in all his standards and ensigns. Albert was not in a condition to cope with the imperial troops,* which amounted at least to sixty thousand men, forming one of the most numerous and best-appointed armies which had been brought into the field during that age, in any of the wars among Christian princes. The chief command, under the emperor, was committed to the duke of Alva, assisted by the marquis de Marignano, together with the most experienced of the Italian and Spanish generals. As it was now towards the end of October, these intelligent ofhcers represented the great danger of beginning, at such an advanced season, a siege which could not fail to prove very tedious. But Charles adhered to his own opinion with his usual obstinacy, and, being confident that he had made such preparations, and taken such precautions as would ensure success, he ordered the city to be invested. As soon as the duke of Alva ap- peared, a large body of tlie French sallied out and attacked his vanguard with great vigour, put it in confusion, and killed or took prisoners a considerable number of men. By this early specimen which they gave of the conduct of 3 Thuan. xi. p. 387. ■* Natal. Comitis Hist. p. 127. 330 OPERATIONS OF THE IMPEUIALISTS, [bookxi. their officers, as well as the valour of their troops, they showed the imperialists what an enemy they had to en- counter, and how dear every advanta,u;e must cost them. The place, however, was completely invested, the trenches were opened, and the other works began. The attention both of the besiegers and besieged was turned for some time towards Albert of Brandenburg, and they strove Avith emulation which should gain that prince, who still hovered in the neighbourhood, fluctuating in all the uncertainty of irresolution natural to a man who, being swayed by no principle, was allured different ways by con- trary views of interest. The French tempted him with ofiers extremely beneficial; the imperialists scrupled at no promise which they thought might allure him. After much hesita- tion, he was gained by the emperor, from wdiom he expected to receive advantages which were both more immediate and more permanent. As the French king, Avho began to sus- pect his intentions, had appointed a body of troops under the duke of Aumale, brother to the duke of Guise, to watch his motions, Albert fell upon them unexpectedly with such vigour, that he routed them entirely, killed many of the officers, wounded Aumale himself, andtookhim prisoner. Immediately after this victory, he marched in triumph to Metz, and joined his army to that of the emperor. Charles, in reward for this service, and the great accession of strength which he brought him, granted Albert a formal pardon of all past oftences. and confirmed him in the possession of the territories which he had violently usurped during the war.'^ The duke of Guise, though dccj^ly aff'ected with his brother's misfortunes, did not remit, in any degree, the vigour with which he defended the town. Tie harassed the besiegers by frequent sallies, in which his officers were so eager to distinguish themselves, that his authority being hardly sufficient to restrain the impetuosity of their courage, he was obliged at different times to shut the gates, and to "* Slcid. p. 575. Thuiiii. lib. xi. pp. 389, 392. BOOK XI.] AND MEASURES OF THE BESIEGED. 331 conceal the keys, in order to prevent the princes of the blood, and noblemen of the first rank, from exposing themselves to danger in every sally. He repaired in the night what the enemy's artillery had beat down dnring the day, or erected behind the ruined works new fortifications of almost eqnal strength. The imperialists, on their part, pushed on the attack with great spirit, and carried forward at once ap- proaches against different parts of the toAvn. But the art of attacking fortified places was not then arrived at that degree of perfection to which it was carried towards the close of the sixteenth century, during the long war in the Netherlands. The besiegers, after the unwearied labour of many weeks, found that they had made but little progress ; and although their batteries had made breaches in different places, they saw, to their astonishment, works suddenly appear, in demolishing which their fatigues and. dangers would be renewed. The emperor, enraged at the obstinate resistance which his army met with, left Thionville, where he had been confined by a violent fit of the gout, and though still so infirm tliat he was obliged to be carried in a litter, he repaired to the camp ; that, by his presence, he might animate the soldiers, and urge on the attack with greater spirit. Upon his arrival, new batteries were erected, and new efforts were made with redoubled ardour. But, by this time, winter had set in with great rigour ; the camp was alternately deluged with rain or covered with snow ; at the same time provisions were become extremely scarce, as a body of French cavalry, which hovered in the neighboured, often interrupted the convoys, or rendered their arrival difficult and uncertain. Diseases began to spread among the soldiers, especially among the Italians and Spaniards, unaccustomed to such inclement weather ; great numbers were disabled from serving, and many died. At length, such breaches were made as seemed practicable, and Charles resolved to hazard a general assault, in spite of all the remonstrances of his generals against the imprudence 332 " CHAELES RAISES THE SIEGE. [bookxi. of attacking a numerous garrison, coiidiicted and animated by the most gallant of the French nobility, with an army weakened by diseases, and disheartened with ill success. The duke of Guise, suspecting the emperor's intentions from the extraordinary movements which he observed in the enemy's camp, ordered all his troops to their respective posts. They appeared immediately on the walls, and behind the breaches, with such a determined countenance, so eager for the combat, and so well prepared to give the assailants a warm reception, that the imperialists, instead of advancing to the charge when the word of command was given, stood motionless in a timid dejected silence. The emperor, per- ceiving that he could not trust troops whose spirits Avere so much broken, retired abruptly to his quarters, complain- ing that he was now deserted by his soldiers, who deserved no longer the name of men." Deeply as this behavioiu' of his troops mortified and affected Charles, he would not hear of abandoning the siege, though he saw the necessity of changing the method of attack. He suspended the fury of his batteries, and pro- posed to proceed by the more secure but tedious method of sapping. But as it still continued to rain or to snow almost incessantly, such as were employed in this service endured incredible hardships ; and the duke of Guise, whose industry was not inferior to his valoiu', discovering all their mines, counterworked them, and prevented their effect. At last Charles, finding it impossible to contend any longer with the severity of the season, and with enemies Avhom he could neither overpower by force, nor subdue by art, while at the same time a contagious distemper raged among his troops, and cut off daily great nund)ers of the officers as well as soldiers, yielded to the solicitations of his generals, who conjured him to save the remains of his army l)y a timely retreat. " Fortune," says he, " I now perceive, resembles other females, and chooses to confer her favours <= TliiKui. p. 397. BOOK XI.] RUIN OF THE IMPERIAL ARMY. 333 on young men, while she turns her back on those who are advanced in years." Upon this he gave orders immediately to raise the siege, and submitted to the disgrace of abandoning the enterprise, after having continued fifty-six days before the town, during which time he had lost upwards of thirty thousand men, who died of diseases or were killed by the enemy. The duke of Guise, as soon as he perceived the intention of the imperialists, sent out several bodies both of cavalry and infantry to infest their rear, to pick up stragglers, and to seize every opportunity of attacking them with advantage. Such was the confusion with which they made their retreat, that the French might have harassed them in the most cruel manner. But when they sallied out, a spectacle pre- sented itself to their view, which extinguished at once all hostile rage, and melted them into tenderness and com- passion. The imperial camp was filled with the sick and wounded, with the dead and the dying. In all the different roads by which the army retired, numbers w^re found who, having made an effort to escape, beyond their strength, were left, when they could go no farther, to perish without assistance. This they received from their enemies, and were indebted to them for all the kind offices which their friends had not the power to perform. The duke of Guise immediately ordered proper refreshments for such as were dying of hunger ; he appointed surgeons to attend the sick and wounded ; he removed such as could bear it into the adjacent villages ; and those who would have suffered by being carried so far, he admitted into the hospitals which he had fitted up in the city for his own soldiers. As soon as they recovered, he sent them home under an escort of soldiers, and with money to bear their charges. By these acts of humanity, which were uncommon in that age, when war was carried on with greater rancour and ferocity than at present, the duke of Guise completed the fame which he had acquired by his gallant and successful defence of Metz, 334 LOSSES OF THE EMPEROR [bookxi. and engaged those wliom he had vanquished to vie with his own countrymen in extolHng his name/ To these calamities in Germany were added such unfor- tunate events in Italy, as rendered this the most disastrous year in the emperor's life. During his residence at Villach, Charles had applied to Cosmo de' Medici for the loan of two hundred thousand crowns. But his credit at that time was so low, that in order to obtain this inconsiderable sum, he was obliged to put him in possession of the principality of Piombino, and by giving him that, he lost the footing which he had hitherto maintained in Tuscany, and enabled Cosmo to assume, for the future, the tone and deportment of a prince altogether independent. Much about the time that his indigence constrained him to part with this valu- able territory, he lost Siena, which was of stiU greater consequence, through the ill conduct of Don Diego de Mendoza.^ Siena, like most of the great cities in Italy, had long enjoyed a republican government, under the protection of the empire ; but being torn in pieces by the dissensions between the nobihty and the people, which divided all the Italian commonwealths, the faction of the peo[)le, which gained the ascendant, besought tlic emperor to become the guardian of the administration which they had established, and admitted into their city a small body of Spanish soldiers, whom he had sent to countenance the execution of the laws, and to preserve tranquillity among them. The command of these troops was given to Mendoza, at that time ambassador for the emperor at Rome, who persuaded the credulous multitude that it was necessary for their security, against any future attempt of the nobles, to allow him to build a citadel in Siena; and, as he flattered himself that, by means of this fortress, he might render the ' Slcid. p. 575. Tliuau. lib. xi. journal of the Sirur de Salii^nac, who 5 p. .389, &c. Perc Daiiic.l, Hist, de, was prosoiit. Natal. Coiiul. Hist, ranee, loin. ill. p. 392. Perc Daniel's p. 12'.». account of this siege is taken fiom tlic " Thuan. lilj. .\i. p. o7G. BOOK XI.] IN ITALY. 335 emperor master of the city, he pushed on the works with all possible despatch. But he threw otf the mask too soon. Before the fortifications were completed he began to indulge liis natural haughtiness and severity of temper, and to treat the citizens with great insolence. At the same time the soldiers in garrison, being paid as irregularly as the empe- ror's troops usually were, lived almost at disci-etion upon the inhabitants, and were guilty of many acts of licence and oppression. These injuries awakened the Sienese to a sense of their danger. As they saw the necessity of exerting themselves while the unfinished fortifications of the citadel left them any hopes of success, they applied to the Prench ambassa- dor at Rome, who readily promised them his master's pro- tection and assistance. At the same time, forgetting their domestic animosities when such a mortal blow was aimed at the liberty and existence of the republic, they sent agents to the exiled nobles, and invited them to concur with them in saving their country from the servitude with which it was threatened. As there was not a moment to lose, measures were concerted speedily, but with great prudence, and were executed with equal vigour. The citizens rose suddenly in arms ; the exiles flocked into the town from difi'erent parts, with all their partisans and what troops they could draw together; and several bodies of merce- naries in the pay of France appeared to support them. The Spaniards, though surprised and much inferior in number, defended themselves with great courage ; but seeing no prospect of relief, and having no hopes of main- taining tlieir station long in a half-finished fortress, they soon gave it up. The Sienese, with the utmost alacrity, levelled it with the ground, that no monument might remain of that odious structure which had been raised in order to enslave them. At the same time, renouncing all connexion with the emperor, they sent ambassadors to thank the king of France as the restorer of their liberty, 336 DESCENT OF THE TURKS [bookxi. and to entreat that he Avoiild secure to them the perpetual enjoyment of that blessing, by continuing his protection to their republic.^ To these misfortunes, one still more fatal had almost succeeded. The severe administration of Don Pedro de Toledo, viceroy of Naples, having filled that kingdom Avitli murmuring and disaffection, the prince of Salerno, the head of the malccontents, had fled to the court of France, ■where all who bore ill-will to the emperor or his ministers were sure of finding protection and assistance. That nobleman, in the usual style of exiles, boasting much of the number and power of his partisans, and of his great influence with them, prevailed on Henry to think of in- vading Naples, from an expectation of being joined by all those with whom the prince of Salerno held correspondence, or Avho were dissatisfied with Toledo's government. But though the first hint of this enterprise was suggested by the prince of Salerno, Henry did not choose that its success should entirely depend upon his being able to fulfil the promises which he had made. He applied for aid to Soly- man, whom he courted, after his father's example, as his most vigorous auxiliary against the emperor, and solicited him to second his operations, by sending a powerful fleet into the Mediterranean. It was not difficult to obtain what he requested of the sultan, who at this time was highly incensed against the house of Austria, on account of the proceedings in Hungary. He ordered a hundred and fifty ships to be equipped, that they might sail towards the coast of Naples, at whatever time Henry should name, and might cooperate with the French troops in their attempts upon that kingdom. The command of this fleet was given to the corsair Dragut, an officer trained up luuler Barba- rossa, and scarcely inferior to his master in courage, in talents, or in good fortune. He appeared on the coast of ' Pccci, Mcmoirc clc Siuiin, vol. iii. &c. l'anit;i, Ilist. Vciict. p. 2G7. pp. 230, 201. Tljuau. pp. 375, 377, Mem. dc Kibicr, pp. 121, &c. BOOK XI.] ON THE KINGDOM OF NAPLES. 337 Calabria at the time which had been agreed on, Landed at several places, plundered and burnt several villages ; and at last, casting anchor in the Bay of Naples, filled that city with consternation. But as the French fleet, detained by some accident, which the contemporary historians have not explained, did not join the Turks according to concert, they, after waiting twenty days without hearing any tidings of it, set sail for Constantinople, and thus delivered the viceroy of Naples from the terror of an invasion which he was not in a condition to have resisted.^" [1553.] As the French had never given so severe a check to the emperor in any former campaign, they expressed immo- derate joy at the success of their arms. Charles himself, accustomed to a long series of prosperity, felt the calamity most sensibly, and retired from Metz into the Low Countries, much dejected with the cruel reverse of fortune which affected him in his declining age, when the violence of the gout had increased to such a pitch, as entirely broke the vigour of his constitution, and rendered him peevish, difficult of access, and often incapable of applying to business. But, whenever he enjoyed any interval of ease, all his thoughts were bent on revenge ; and he deliberated with the greatest solicitude concerning the most proper means of annoying France, and of effacing the stain which had obscured the reputation and glory of his arms. All the schemes con- cerning Germany, which had engrossed him so long, being disconcerted by the peace of Passau, the affairs of the empire became only secondary objects of attention ; and enmity to France was the predominant passion which chiefly occupied his mind. The turbulent ambition of Albert of Brandenburg excited violent commotions, which disturbed the empire during this year. That prince's troops having shared in the cala- mities of the siege of Metz, were greatly reduced in number. But the emperor, prompted by gratitude for his distin- '" Thuan. pp. 375, 3S0. Mem. de Ribier, ii. p. 403. Gianuone. , VOL. IT. Z 338 CONFEDERACY AGAINST [bookxi. guisbed services on that occasion, or perhaps with a secret vie\Y of fomenting divisions among the princes of the empire, having paid up all tlie money due to him, he was enabled with that sum to hire so many of the soldiers dismissed from the imperial army, that he was soon at the head of a body of men as numerous as ever. The bishops of Bamberg and Wurzburg having solicited the imperial chamber to annul, by its authority, the iniquitous conditions which Albert had compelled them to sign, that court unanimously found all their ensrao-ements with him to be void in their own nature, because they had been extorted by force ; enjoined Albert to renounce all claim to the performance of them ; and, if he should persist in such an unjust demand, exhorted all the princes of the empire to take arms against him as a disturber of the public tranquillity. To this de- cision Albert opposed the confirmation of his transactions with the two prelates, which the emperor had granted liira. as the reward of his having joined the imperial army at Metz ; and in order to intimidate his antagonists, as well as to convince them of his resolution not to relinquish his pretensions, he put his troops in motion, that he might secure the territory in question. Various endeavours were employed, and many expedients proposed, in order to prevent the kindling of a new war in Germany. But the same warmth of temper which rendered Albert turbulent and enterprising, inspiring him Avitli the most sanguine hopes of success even in his wildest undertakings, he disdainfully rejected all reasonable overtures of accommodation. Upon this the imperial chamber issued its decree against him, [uid required the elector of Saxony, together with several other princes mentioned by name, to take arms in order to carry it into execution. Maurice, and those asso- ciated with him, were not unwilling to undertake this service. 'J'licy were extremely solicitous to maintain public order ])y supporting the authority of the imperial chand)er, and saw the necessity of giving a timely check to the BOOK XI.] ALBERT OF BRANDENBURG. 339 usurpations of an ambitious prince, who had no principle of action but regard to his oAvn interest, and no motive to direct liim l)ut the impulse of ungovernable passion. They had good reason to suspect that the emperor encouraged Albert in his extravagant and irregular proceedings, and secretly afforded him assistance, that, by raising him up to rival Maurice in power, he might, in any future broil, make use of his assistance to counterbalance and control the authority which the other had acquired in the empire.^' These considerations united the most powerful princes in Germany in a league against Albert, of Avhich Maurice was declared generalissimo. This formidable confederacy, however, wrought no change in Albert's sentiments ; but as he knew that he could not resist so many princes, if he should allow them time to assemble their forces, he endea- voured, by his activity, to deprive them of all the advantages which they might derive from their united power and numbers ; and, for that reason, marched directly against Maurice, the enemy whom he dreaded most. It was happy for the allies that the conduct of their affairs was committed to a prince of such abilities. He, by his authority and example, had inspired them with vigour ; and having carried on their preparations with a degree of rapidity of which confederate bodies are seldom capable, he was in a condition to face Albert before he could make any conside- rable progress. Their armies, which were nearly equal in number, each consisting of twenty-four thousand men, met at Sieverhausen, in the duchy of Lunenburg ; and the violent animosity against each other, which possessed the two leaders, did not suffer them to continue long inactive. The troops, inflamed with the same hostile rage, marched fiercely to the combat ; they fought with the greatest obstinacy ; and as both generals were capable of availing themselves of ^^ Sleid. p. 585. Mem. de Ribier, ii. p. 442. Aruoldi Yita Maurih. ap, Menken, ii. p. 1242. z 2 340 DEFEAT OF ALBERT, [bookxi. every favourable occurrence, the battle remained long doubtful, eacli gaining ground upon the other alternately. At last victory declared for Maurice, who was superior in cavalry, and Albert's army fled in confusion, leaving four thousand dead on the field, and their camp, baggage, and artillery, in the hands of the conquerors. The allies bought their victory dear ; their best troops suffered greatly ; two sons of the duke of Brunswick, a duke of Lunenburg, and many other persons of distinction were among the number of the slain. ^" But all these were soon forgotten ; for ]\laurice himself, as he led up to a second charge a body of horse which had been broken, received a wound with a pistol-bullet in the belly, of which he died two days after the battle, in the thirty- second year of his age, and in the sixth after his attaining the electoral dignity. Of all the personages wlio have appeared in the history of this active age, when great occurrences and sudden revolutions called forth extraordinary talents to view, and afforded them full opportunity to display themselves, ]\Iaurice may justly be considered as the most remarkable. If his exorbitant ambition, his profound dissimulation, and his unwarrantable usurpation of his kinsman's honours and dominions, exclude him from being praised as a virtuous man ; his prudence in concerting his measures, his vigour in executing them, and the uniform success with which they were attended, entitle him to the appellation of a great prince. At an age when impetuosity of spirit commonly predominates over political wisdom, when the highest eff"ort even of a genius of the first order is to fix on a bold scheme, and to execute it with promptitude and courage, he formed and conducted an intricate plan of policy, which deceived the most artful monarch in Euroi)e. At the very jimcturo when the emperor had attained to almost unlimited des- " Hisforia Pugnrc infelicis infer p. 5^3. Huscplli.Episfrcs aiix riincrs, Maurit. ct Albert,. Tliom. Wiut/.ero p. ]5i. AnioKii Vila Mauril. p. auclore, apud Scard. ii. p. 559. Sluid. 1215. BOOK XL] AND DEITII OF MAURICE. 341 potism, Maurice, with power sccniingly inadequate to sucli an undertaking, compelled him to relinquish all his usur- pations, and establislied uot only the religious but civil liberties of Germany on such foundations as have hitherto remained unshaken. Although, at one period of his life, his conduct excited the jealousy of the protestants, and at another drew on him the resentment of the Roman catholics, such was his masterly address, that he was the only prince of the age who in any degree possessed the conlidenee of both, and whom both lamented as the most able as well as faithful guardian of the constitution and laws of his country. The consternation which Maurice's death occasioned among his troops, prevented them from making the proper improvement of the victory which they had gained. Albert, whose active courage and profuse liberality rendered him the darling of such military adventurers as were little soli- citous about the justice of his cause, soon re-assembled his broken forces, and made fresh levies with such success, that he was quickly at the head of fifteen thousand men, and renewed his depredations with additional fury. But Henry of Brunswick having taken the command of the allied troops, defeated him in a second battle, scarcely less bloody than the former. Even then his courage did not sink, nor were his resources exhausted. He made several efforts, and some of them very vigorous, to retrieve his affairs ; but, being laid under the ban of the empire by the impe- rial chamber ; being driven by degrees out of all his here- ditary territories, as well as those which he had usurped ; being forsaken by many of his officers, and overpowered by the number of his enemies, he fled for refuge into Frnnce. After having been for a considerable time the terror and scourge of Germany, he lingered out some years in an indigent and dependent state of exile, the miseries of which his restless and arrogant spirit endured with the most indignant impatience. Upon his death without issue, his 342 MAURICE'S SUCCESSOR. [kookxi. territories, which had been seized by the princes who took arms against him, were restored, by a decree of the emperor, to his collateral heirs of the house of Brandenburg/^ Maurice, having left only one daughter, who was after- wards married to William, prince of Orange, by whom she had a son w^ho bore his grandfather's name, and inherited the great talents for which he was conspicuous, a violent dispute arose concerning the succession to his honours and territories. John Frederick, the degraded elector, claimed the electoral dignity, and that part of his patrimonial estate of which he had been violently stripped after the Smalkaldic war. Augustus, Maurice's only brother, pleaded his right not only to the hereditary possessions of their family, but to the electoral dignity, and to the territories which Maurice had acquired. As Augustus was a prince of considerable abilities, as w^ell as of great candour and gentleness of manners, the states of Saxony, forgetting the merits and sufferings of their former master, declared warmly in his favour. His pretensions were powerfully supported by the king of Denmark, whose daughter he had married, and zealously espoused by the king of the Romans, out of regard to Maurice's memory. The degraded elector, though secretly favoured by his ancient enemy the em})eror, was at last obliged to relinquish his claim, upon obtaining a small addition to the territories which had been allotted to him, together with a stipulation securing to his family the eventual succession, npon a failure of male heirs in the Albertine line. That unfortunate but magnanimous prince died next year, soon after ratifying this treaty of agreement; and the electoral dignity is still possessed by the descendants of Augustus." During these transactions in Germany, war was carried on in the Low Countries with considerable vigour. The emperor, impatient to efface the stain which his ignominious '^ Slcid. pp. 502, 594, 599. Struv. Corp. Hist. Germ. 1075. " Sleid. p. 587. Tliuau. p. 409. Stniv. Corp. Hist. Germ. BOOK XI.] HOSTILITIES IN THE NETHERLANDS. 343 repulse at Mctz left upon his military reputation, had an army early in the field, and laid siege to Terouenne. Though tlie town was of such importance, that Francis used to call it one of the two pillars on which a king of France might sleep with security, the fortifications were in bad repair. Henry, trusting to what had happened at Metz, thought nothing more was necessary to render ail the efforts of the enemy abortive, than to reinforce the garrison with a considerable number of the young nobility. But D'Esse, a veteran officer who commanded them, being killed, and the imperialists pushing the siege with great vigour and perseverance, the place was taken by assault. That it mio-ht not fall ao;ain into the hands of the French, Charles ordered not only the fortifications but the town itself to be razed, and the inhabitants to be dispersed in the adjacent cities. Elated with this success, the imperialists immediately invested Hesden, which, though defended with great bravery, was likewise taken by assault, and such of the garrison as escaped the sword were taken prisoners. The emperor entrusted the conduct of the siege to Emanuel Philibert of Savoy, prince of Piedmont, who, on that occa- sion, gave the first display of those great talents of military command which soon entitled him to be ranked among the first generals of the age, and facilitated his re-establishment in his hereditary dominions, the greater part of which, having been overrun by Francis in his expeditions into Italy, were still retained by Henry. '^ The loss of these towns, together with so many persons of distinction, cither killed or taken by the enemy, was no inconsiderable calamity to France, and Henry felt it very sensibly ; but he was still more mortified at the emperor's having recovered his wonted superiority in the field so soon after the blow at Metz, which the French had represented as fatal to his power. He was ashamed, too, of his own remissness and excessive security at the opening of the ^^ Thuan. p. 411. ILirsei Auiiales Brabant, p. 669. 344 LOSSES OF THE EMPEROR [book xr. campaign ; and, in order to repair that error, he assembled a nnmerons army, and led it into the Low Countries. Roused at the approach of sucli a formidable enemy, Charles left Brussels, where he had been shut up so closely during seven months, that it came to be believed in many parts of Europe that he was dead ; and though he was so much debilitated by the gout, that he could hardly bear the motion of a litter, he hastened to join his army. The eyes of all Europe were turned with expectation towards those mighty and exasperated rivals, between whom a decisive battle was now thouQ-ht unavoidable. But Charles having prudently declined to hazard a general engagement, and the violence of the autumnal rains rendering it im- possible for the Erench to undertake any siege, they retired, without having performed anything suitable to the great preparations which they had made.^'^ The imperial arms were not attended with the same success in Italy. The narrowness of the emperor's finances seldom allowed him to act with vigour in two different places at the same tune ; and, having exerted himself to the utmost in order to make a great effort in the Low Countries, his operations on the other side of the Alps were proportionably feeble. The viceroy of Naples, in conjunction with Cosmo de' Medici, who was greatly alarmed at the introduction of Erench troops into Siena, endeavoured to become master of that city. But, instead of reducing the Sienese, the imperialists were obliged to retire abruptly, in order to defend their own country, upon the appearance of the Turkish fleet, which threatened the coast of Naples ; and the Erench not only established themselves more firmly in Tuscany, but, by the assistance of the Turks, conquered a great })art of the island of Corsica, subject at that time to the Genoese.'' The affairs of the house of Austria declined no less in Hungary during the course of this year. As the troops " Ilaracus, p. 072. Tliuaii. p. Hi. '^ Thuan. p. 117. BOOK XI.] IN ITALY AND HUNGARY. ;M5 wliicli Perdinaiid kept in Transylvania received their pay very irregularly, tliey lived almost at discretion upon the inhabitants ; and their insolence and rapacionsness greatly diss:usted all ranks of men, and alienated them from their new sovereign, who, instead of protecting, plundered his subjects. Their indignation at this, added to their desire of revenging Martinuzzi's death, wrought so mncli upon a turbulent nobility, impatient of injury, and upon a fierce people, prone to change, that they were ripe for a revolt. At that very juncture, their late queen Isabella, together with her son, appeared in Transylvania. Her ambitious mind could not bear the solitude and inactivity of a private life; and, repenting quickly of the cession which she had made of the crown in the year one thousand five hundred, and fifty-one, she left the place of her retreat, hoping that the dissatisfaction of the Hungarians witii the Austrian government would prompt them once more to recognise her son's right to the crown. Some noblemen of great eminence declared immediately in his favour. The basha of Belgrade, by Solyman's order, espoused his cause, in opposition to Ferdinand ; the Spanish and German soldiers, instead of advancing against the enemy, mutinied for want of pay, declaring that they would march back to A^ienna ; so that Castaldo, their general, was obliged to abandon Transylvania to Isabella and the Turks, and to place himself at the head of the mutineers, that, by his authority, he might restrain thera from plundering the Austrian territories through which they passed.'^ Ferdinand's attention was turned so entirely towards the affairs of Germany, and his treasures so much exhausted by his late efforts in Hungary, that he made no attempt to recover this valuable province, although a favourable oppor- tunity for that purpose presented itself, as Solyman was then eno-at>;ed in a war with Persia, and involved besides in domestic calamities which engrossed and disturbed his 18 Thuan. p. 130. 346 THE FA^HLY TROUBLES [book xi. mind. Solymaii, though distinguished by many accora- pKshmeuts from the other Ottoman princes, had all the passions peculiar to that violent and haughty race. He was jealous of his authority, sudden as well as furious in his anger, and susceptible of all that rage and love which reio"ns in the East, and often produces the Avildest and most tragical effects. His favourite mistress was a Circassian slave of exquisite beauty, who bore him a son called Mustapha, whom, both on account of his birthright and his merit, he destined to be the heir of his crown. Roxalana, a Russian captive, soon supplanted the Circassian, and gained the sultan's heart. Having the address to retain the conquest which she had made, she kept posses- sion of his love without any rival for many years, during which she brought him several sons and one daughter. All the happiness, however, which she derived from the unbounded sway that she had acquired over a monarch whom one half of the world revered or dreaded, was em- bittered by perpetual reflections on Mustapha 's accession to the throne, and the certain death of her sons, who, she foresaw, would be immediately sacrificed, according to the barbarous jealousy of Turkish policy, to the safety of the new emperor. By dwelling continually on this melancholy idea, she came gradually to view Mustapha as the enemy of her children, and to hate him with more than a step- mother's ill-will. This prompted her to wish his destruction, in order to secure for one of her own sons the throne which was destined for him. Nor did she want either ambition to attempt such a high enterprise, or the arts requisite for carrying it into execution. Having prevailed on the sultan to give her only daughter in marriage to Rustan, the grand vizier, she disclosed her scheme to that crafty minister, who, perceiving that it was his own interest to cooperate with her, readily promised his assistance towards aggrand- izing that branch of the royal line to which he was now so nearly allied. BOOK XI.] OF SOLYMAN. 347 As soon as Roxalana had concerted her measures with this able contidaut, she began to affect a wonderful zeal for the Mahometan religion, to which Solyman was super- stitiously attached, and proposed to found and endow a royal mosque, a work of great expense, but deemed by the Turks meritorious in the highest degree. The mufti, whom she consulted, approved much of her pious intention ; but, having been gained and instructed by Rustan, told her that, she being a slave, could derive no benefit herself from that holy deed, for all the merit of it would accrue to Solyman, the master whose property she was. Upon this she seemed to be overwhelmed with sorrow, and to sink into the deepest melancholy, as if she had been disgusted with life and all its enjoyments. Solyman, who was absent with the army, being informed of this dejection of mind, and of the cause from which it proceeded, discovered all the solicitude of a lover to remove it, and, by a writing under his hand, declared her a free woman. Roxalana, having gained this point, proceeded to build the mosque, and re-assumed her usual gaiety of spirit. But when Solyman, on his return to Constantinople, sent a eunuch, according to the custom of the seraglio, to bring her to partake of his bed, she, seemingly with deep regret, but in the most peremptory manner, declined to follow the eunuch, declaring that what had been an honour to her while a slave, became a crime as she was now a free woman, and that she would not involve either the sultan or herself in the guilt that must be contracted by such an open violation of the law of their prophet. Solyman, whose passion this difficulty, as well as the affected delicacy which gave rise to it, heightened and inflamed, had recourse immediately to the mufti for his direction. He replied, agreeably to the Koran, that Roxalana's scruples were well founded ; but added artfully, in words which Rustan had taught him to use, that it was in the sultan's power to remove these diffi- culties, by espousing her as his lawful wife. The amorous 348 A^^IBITIOX AND SCHEIMES [bookxi- nionarcli closed eagerly with the proposal, and solemnly married her, according to the form of the IMahometan ritual ; though, by so doing, he disregarded a maxim of policy Avhich the pride of the Ottoman blood had taught all the sultans since Bajazct I. to consider as inviolable. From his time none of the Turkish monarchs had married, because, when he was vanquished and taken prisoner by Tamerlane, his wife had been abused with barbarous inso- lence by the Tartars. That no similar calamity might again subject the Ottoman family to the same disgrace, the sultans admitted none to their beds but slaves, whose dishonour could not bring any such stain upon their house. But the more uncommon the step was, the more it convinced Roxalana of the unbounded influence which she had acquired over the sultan's heart ; and emboldened her to prosecute, with greater hope of success, the scheme that she had formed in order to destroy iMustapha. This young prince having been entrusted by his father, according to the practice of the sultans in that age, with the government of several different provinces, was at that time invested •with the administration in Diarbequir, the ancient Mesopo- tamia, Avhich Solyman had wrested from the Persians, and added to his empire. In all these different counnands, Mustapha had conducted himself with such cautious pru- dence as could give no offence to his father, tliough, at the same time, he governed with so nuich moderation as well as justice, and displayed such valour and generosity, as rendered him equally the favourite of the people and the darling of the soldiery. There was no room to lay any folly or vice to his charge, that could impair the high opinion wdiich his father enter- tained of liim. Boxalana's malevolence w\as more refined ; she turned his virtues against him, and made use of these as engines for liis destruction. She often mentioned, in Solyman's presence, the splendid qualities of his son ; she celebrated his courage, his liberality, his popular arts, BOOK XI.] OF ROXALANA, SOLYMAN'S MISTRESS. 349 with malicious and exaggerated praise. As soon as she perceived that the sultan heard these encomiums, which were often repeated, Avith uneasiness ; that suspicion of his son began to mingle itself with his former esteem ; and that by degrees he came to view him with jealousy and fear ; she introduced, as by accident, some discourse con- cerning the rebelhon of his father Selini against Bajazet his grandfather : she took notice of the bravery of the veteran troops under Mustapha's command, and of the neighbouihood of Diarbequir to the territories of the Persian sophi, Solyman's mortal enemy. By these arts, whatever remained of paternal tenderness was gradually extinguished, and such passions were kindled in the breast of the sultan, as gave all Roxalana's malignant suggestions the colour not only of probability but of truth. His suspicions and fear of Mustapha settled into deep-rooted hatred. He appointed spies to observe and report all his words and actions ; he watched and stood on his guard against him, as his most dangerous enemy. Having thus alienated the sultan's heart from Mustapha, Roxalana ventured upon another step. She entreated Sclyman to allow her own sons the liberty of appearing at court, hoping that, by gaining access to their father, they might, by their good qualities and dutiful deportment, insinuate themselves into that place in his aflections which Mustapha had formerly held; and, though what she demanded was contrary to the practice of the Ottoman family in that age, the uxorious monarch granted her request. To all these female intrigues Rustan added an artifice still more subtle, which completed the sultan's delusion, and heightened his jealousy and fear. He wrote to the bashas of the provinces adjacent to Diarbequir, instructing them to send him regular intelligence of Mus- tapha's proceedings in his government, and to each of them he gave a private hint, flowing in appearance from his zeal for their interest, that nothing would be more accept- 350 EXPEDITION OF RUSTAN [bookxi. able to the sultan than to receive favourable accounts of a son whom he destined to sustain the glory of the Ottoman name. The bashas, ignorant of his fraudulent intention, and eager to pay court to their sovereign at such an easy price, filled their letters with studied but fatal panegyrics of Mustapha, representing him as a prince worthy to succeed such an illustrious father, and as endowed with talents which might enable him to emulate, perhaps to equal, his fame. These letters were industriously shown to Solyman, at the seasons when it was known that they would make the deepest impression. Every expression in recommenda- tion of his son wounded him to the heart ; he suspected his principal officers of being ready to favour the most desperate attempts of a prince whom they were so fond of praising ; and fancying that he saw them already assaulting his throne with rebelHous arms, he determined, while it was yet in his power, to anticipate the blow, and to secure his own safety by his son's death. For this purpose, though under pretence of renewing the war against Persia, he ordered Rustan to march towards Diarbequii' at the head of a numerous army, and to rid him of a son whose life he deemed inconsistent with his own safety. But that crafty minister did not choose to be loaded with the odium of having executed this cruel order. As soon as he arrived in Syria, he wrote to Solyman, that the danger was so innnincnt as cnlled for his immediate presence ; that the camp was full of Mustapha's emissaries ; that many of the soldiers were corrupted ; that the affec- tions of all leaned to"wards him; that he had discovered a negotiation which had been carried on with the sophi of Persia, in order to marry Mustapha with one of his daughters ; that lie already felt his own talents as well as authority to be inadequate to tha exigencies of such an arduous conjuncture; that the sultan alone had sagacity to discern what resolution should be taken in those circum- stances, and power to cairy that resolution into execution. BOOK XI.] TO ASSASSINATE MUSTAPHA. 351 This charge of courting the friendship of the sophi, Roxalana and Rustan had reserved as the last and most envenomed of all their calumnies. It operated with the violence w^hich they expected from Solyman's inveterate abhorrence of the Persians, and threw him into the wildest transports of rage. He set out instantly for Syria, and hastened thither with all the precipitation and impatience of fear and revenge. As soon as he joined his army near Alei)po, and had concerted measures with Rustan, he sent a chiaus, or messenger of the court, to his son, requiring hira to repair immediately to his presence. Mustapha, though no stranger to his stepmother's machinations, or to Rustan's malice, or to his father's violent temper, yet, relying on his own innocence, and hoping to discredit the accusations of his enemies by the promptitude of his obedience, followed the messenger without delay to Aleppo. The moment he arrived in the camp, he was introduced into tlie sultan's tent. As he entered it, he observed nothing that could give him any alarm ; no additional crowd of attendants, no body of armed guards, but the same order and silence which always reign in the sultan's apartments. In a few minutes, however, several mutes appeared, at the sight of whom Mustapha, knowing what was his doom, cried with a loud voice, " Lo, my death ! " and attempted to fly. The mutes rushed forward to seize him ; he resisted and struggled, demanding with the utmost earnestness to see the sultan ; and despair, together with the hope of finding protection from the soldiers, if he could escape out of the tent, animated him with such extraordinary strength, that, for some time, he baffled all the efibrts of the executioners, Solyman was within hearing of his son's cries, as well as of the noise which the struggle occasioned. Impatient of this delay of his revenge, and struck with terror at the thoughts of Mustapha's escaping, he drew aside the curtain which divided the tent, and, thrusting in his head, darted a fierce look towards the mutes, and, with 352 DEATH OF MUST-\JH.L [book xi. wild and threatening gestures, seemed to condemn their sloth and timidity. At sight of liis father's furious and unrelenting countenance, Mustapha's strength failed, and his courage forsook him ; the mutes fastened the bow- string about his neck, and in a moment put an end to his life. The dead body was exposed before the sultan's tent. The soldiers gathered round it, and, contemplating that mournful object with astonishment, and sorrow, and indig- nation, were ready, if a leader had not been wanting, to have broke out into the wildest excesses of rage. After giving vent to the first expressions of their grief, they retired each man to his tent, and, shutting themselves up, bewailed in secret the cruel fate of their favourite ; nor Avas there one of them who tasted food, or even water, during the remainder of tliat day. Next morning the same solitude and silence reigned in the camp ; and Solyman, being afraid that some dreadful storm Avould follow this sullen calm, in order to appease the enraged soldiers, deprived Hustan of the seals, ordered him to leave the camp, and raised Achmet, a gallant officer, much beloved in the army, to the dignity of vizier. This change, however, was made in concert with Rustan himself; tliat crafty minister suggest- ing it as the only expedient which could save himself or his master. Bat within a few months, when the resentment of the soldiers began to subside, and the name of jNIustapha to be forgotten, Achmet was strangled by the sultan's com- mand, and Rustan reinstated in the office of vizier. Toge- ther with his former power, he rcassumed the plan for exterminating the race of Mustapha which he had concerted with Roxalana ; and as they were afraid that an only son whom Mustapha had left, might grow up to avenge his death, they redoubled their activity, and by employing the same arts against him which they had practised against his father, they inspired Solyman with the same fears, and pre- vailed on him to issue orders for putting to death that BOOK XI.] CHARLES'S MARRIAGE-PROJECTS. 353 joiing innocent prince. Tliese orders were executed with barbarous zeal by a eunucli, who was despatched to Barso, the place where tlie prince resided ; and no rival was left to dispute the Ottoman throne with the sons of Roxalana.^" Such tragical scenes, productive of so deep distress, seldom occur but in the history of the great monarchies of the East, where the warmth of the climate seems to give every emotion of the heart its greatest force, and the abso- lute power of sovereigns accustoms and enables them to gratify all their passions without control. While this interesting transaction in the court of Solyman engaged his whole attention, Charles was pursuing, with the utmost ardour, a new scheme for aggrandizing his family. About this time, Edward the Sixth of England, after a short reign, in which he displayed such virtues as filled his subjects with sanguine hopes of being happy under his government, and made them bear with patience all that they suffered from the weakness, the dissensions, and the ambition of the ministers who assumed the administration during his minority, was seized with a lingering distemper, which threatened his life. The em})eror no sooner received an account of this, than his ambition, always attentive to seize every opportunity of acquiring an increase of power, or of territories, to his son, suggested the thought of adding England to his other kingdoms, by the marriage of Philip with the Princess i\Iary, the heir of Edward's crown. Being apprehensive, however, that his son, who was then in Spain, might decline a match with a princess in her thirty-eighth year, and eleven years older than himself,^" Charles determined, notwithstanding his own age and infir- mities, to make offer of himself as a husband to his cousin. But though j\Iary was so far advanced in years, and destitute of every charm cither of person or manners that " Augerii Gislcnii BusbequiiLe^a- Histor. A'"eueta, lib. vii. p. 60. tiouisTincicseEpislolffiiv. I'nuic.KiL"), "" Palhiv. Hist. Coucil. Trid. v. ii. p. 37. Tliuan. lib. xii.p. 432. Mem. c. 13, p. 150. dc llibier, ii. p. 457. Mauroceui, VOL. II. A A 354 lilARY ACCEPTS CHAKLES'S PROPOSAL. [bookxi. could win aflPection or command esteem, Philip, without hesitation, gave his consent to the match proposed by his father, and was willing, according to the usual maxim of princes, to sacrifice his inclination to his ambition. In order to ensure the success of his scheme, the emperor, even before Edward's death, began to take such steps as might facilitate it. Upon Edward's demise, Mary mounted the throne of England ; the pretensions of the Lady Jane Gray proving as unfortunate as they were ill founded.^^ Charles sent immediately a pompous embassy to London to con- gratulate Mary on her accession to the throne, and to propose the alliance with his son. The queen, dazzled with the prospect of marrying the heir of the greatest monarch in Europe ; fond of uniting more closely with her mother's family, to which she had been always warmly attached ; and eager to secure the powerful aid which she knew would be necessary towards carrying on her favourite scheme of re-establishing the Romish religion in England, listened in the most favourable manner to the proposal. Among her subjects it met Avith a very diflterent reception. Philip, it was well known, contended for all the tenets of the church of Rome with a sanguinary zeal which exceeded the measure even of Spanish bigotry ; this alarmed all the numerous partisans of the reformation. The Castilian haughtiness and reserve were far from being acceptable to the English, who, having several times seen their throne occupied by persons who were born subjects, had become accustomed to an unceremonious and familiar intercourse with their sovereigns. They could not think, without the utmost uneasiness, of admitting a foreign prince to that influence in their councils, which the husband of their (pieen would naturally possess. They dreaded, both from Philip's overbearing temper, and from the maxims of the Spanish monaicliy which he had imbibed, that he would infuse ideas into ^ the (jueen's mind dangerous to the liberties of the =" Carte's Hist, of England, iii. p. 287., BOOK XL] THE MARRIAGE TREATY CONCLUDED. 355 nation, and would introdaco foreign troops and money into the kingdom, to assist her in any attempt against them. Full of these apprehensions, the house of commons, though in that age extremely obsequious to the will of their monarchs, presented a warm address against the Spanish match; many pamphlets were published, representing the dangerous consequences of the alliance with Spain, and describing Philip's bigotry and arrogance in the most odious colours. But Mary, inflexible in all her resolutions, paid no regard to the remonstrances of her commons, or to the sentiments of the people. The emperor having secured, by various arts, the ministers whom she trusted most, they approved warmly of the match, and large sums were remitted by him in order to gain the rest of the council. Cardinal Pole, whom the pope, immediately upon Mary's accession, had despatched as his legate into England, in order to reconcile his native country to the see of Rome, was detained, by the emperor's command, at Dillinghen, in Germany, lest by his presence he should thwart Philip's pretensions, and employ his interest in favour of his kins- man, Courtnay, earl of Devonshire, whom the English ardently wished their sovereign to choose for a husband.^^ As the negotiation did not admit of delay, it was carried forward with the greatest rapidity, the emperor agreeing, without hesitation, to every article in favour of England, which Mary's ministers either represented as necessary to soothe the people and reconcile them to the match, or that was suggested by their own fears and jealousy of a foreign master. [1554.] The chief articles were, — That Philip, during his marriage with the queen, should bear the title of king of England, but the entire administration of affairs, as well as the sole disposal of all revenues, offices, and benefices, should remain with the queen ; that the heirs of the marriage should, together with the croAvn of England, inherit the duchy of Burgundy and the Low Countries ; that if Prince " Carte, iii. p. 2SS. A A 2 356 DISTRUST OF THE ENGLISH PEOPLE. [book x Charles, Philip's only son by a former marriage, should die without issue, his children by the queen, whether male or female, should succeed to the crown of Spain, and all the emperor's hereditary dominions ; that, before the consum- mation of the marriage, Philip should swear solemnly, that he would retain no domestic who was not a subject of the queen, and would bring no foreigners into the kingdom that might give umbrage to the English ; that he would make no alteration in the constitution or laws of England ; that he would not carry the queen, or any of the children born of this marriaoc, out of the kino;dom : that if the queen should die before him without issiic, he would imme- diately leave the crown to the lawful heir, without claiming any right of administration whatever ; that, in consequence of this marriage, England should not be engaged in any war subsisting between France and Spain ; and that the alliance between France and England should remain in full force.^^ But this treaty, though both the emperor and Mary's ministers employed their utmost address in framing it so as to please the English, was far from quieting their fears and jealousies. They saw that words and promises were a feeble security against the encroachments of an ambitious prince, who, as soon as he got possession of the power and advantages aaIucIi the queen's husband must necessarily enjoy, could easily evade any of the articles which either limited his authority or obstructed his schemes. They were convinced that the more favourable the conditions of the present treaty were to England, the more Philip would be tempted hereafter to violate them. They dreaded that England, like Naples, Milan, and the other countries annexed to Spain, would soon feel the dominion of that crown to be intolerably oppressive, and be constrained, as they had been, to waste its wealth and vigour in wars wherein it had no interest, and from which it could derive no advan- tage. These sentiments prevailed so generally, that every ^' llynici's Feed. vol. \v. pp. 1377, 393. Mem. dc Ribicr, ii. p. 498. BOOK XI.] IMAURIAGE OF TITILIP AND MAUY. 357 part of the kingdom was filled with discontent at the match, and with indignation against the advisers of it. Sir Thomas Wyat, a gentleman of some note, and of good intentions towards the public, took advantage of this, and roused the inhabitants of Kent to arms, in order to save their country from a foreign yoke. Great numbers resorted, in a short time, to his standard ; he marched to London with such rapidity, and the queen was so utterly unprovided for defence, that the aspect of affairs was extremely threatening; and if any nobleman of dis- tinction had joined the malccontents, or had Wyat possessed talents equal in any degree to the boldness of his enterprise, the insurrection must have proved fatal to Mary's power. But all Wyat's measures were concerted with so little prudence, and executed with such irresolution, that many of his followers forsook him ; the rest were dispersed by a handful of soldiers, and he himself was taken prisoner, without having made any effort Avorthy of the cause that he had undertaken, or suitable to the ardour with which he en- gaged in it. He suffered the punishment due to his rashness and rebellion. The queen's authority was con- firmed and increased by her success in defeating this incon- siderate attempt to abridge it. The Lady Jane Gray, whose title the ambition of her relations had set up in opposition to that of the queen, was, notwithstanding her youth and innocence, brought to the scaffold. The Lady Elizabeth, the queen's sister, was observed with the most jealous attention. The treaty of marringe was ratified by the parliament. Philip landed in Eugland with a magnificent retinue, celebrated his nuptials with great solemnity ; and though he could not lay aside his natural severity and pride, or assume gracious and popular manners, he endeavoured to conciliate the favour of the English nobility by his extraor- dinary liberality. Lest that should fail of acquiring him such influence in tlio government of the kingdom as he 358- EFFORTS OF ILXRY [book xi. aimed at obtaining, the emperor kept a body of twelve thousand men on the coast of Flanders, in readiness to embark for England, and to support his son in all his enterprises. Emboldened by all these favourable circumstances, Mary pursued the scheme of extirpating the protestant religion out of her dominions, with the most precipitant zeal. The laws of Edward VI., in favour of the reformation, were repealed ; the protestant clergy ejected ; all the forms and rites of the popish worship were re-established ; the nation was solemnly absolved from the guilt which it had con- tracted during the period of its apostasy, and was publicly reconciled to the church of Rome by Cardinal Pole, who immediately after the queen's marriage, was permitted to continue his journey to England, and to exercise his legatinc functions with the most ample power. Not satisfied with having overturned the protestant church, and re-establishing the ancient system on its ruins, Mary insisted that all lier subjects should conform to the same mode of worship which she preferred ; should profess their faith in the same creed which she had approved ; and abjure every practice or opinion that was deemed repugnant to either of them. Powers altogether unknown in the English constitution, were vested in certain persons appointed to take cognisance of heresy ; and they proceeded to exercise them with more than inquisitorial severity. The pros])cct of danger, how- ever, did not intimi(hUe the princi])al teachers of the protestant doctrines, who believed that they were con- tending for truths of the utmost consequence to the ha})pi- ness of mankind. They boldly avowed their sentiments, and were condemned to that cruel death which the church of Rome reserved for its enemies. This shocking punish- ment was inflicted with that barbarity which the i-ancour of fal.se zeal alone can inspire. The English, who arc inferior in humanity to no people in Euroj)e, and remarkable for the mihlness of their public executions, beheld with. BOOK XI.] TO OYEETHROW PROTESTANTISM. 359 astonishment and horror persons who had filled the most respectable stations in the church, and who were venerable on acconnt of their age, their piety, and their literature, condemned to endnre torments to which their laws did not subject even the most atrocious criminals. This extreme rigour did not accomplish the end at which Mary aimed. The patience and fortitude with which these martyrs for the reformation submitted to their sufferings, the heroic contempt of death expressed by persons of every rank, and age, and sex, confirmed many more in the protestant faith, than the tlireats of their enraged perse- cutors could frighten into apostasy. The business of such as were intrusted with trying heretics multiplied continually, and appeared to be as endless as it was odious. The queen's ablest ministers became sensible how impolitic, as well as dangerous, it was to irritate the people by the frequent spectacle of public executions, which they detested as no less unjust than cruel. Even Philip was so thoroughly con- vinced of her having run to an excess of rigour, that, on this occasion, he assumed a part to which he was little accus- tomed, becoming an advocate for moderation and lenity.^* But, notwithstanding this attempt to ingratiate himself with the English, they discovered a constant jealousy and distrust of all his intentions ; and when some members, who had been gained by the court, ventured to move in the house of commons that the nation ought to assist the em- peror, the queen's father-in-law, in his war against France, the proposal was rejected with general dissatisfaction. A motion which was made, that the parliament should give its consent that Philip might be publicly crowned as the queen's husband, met with such a cold reception that it was instantly withdrawn." The king of France had observed the progress of the -■* Godwin's Annals of Q. Mary ap. -^ Carte's Hist, of England, iii> Kennef, ii. p. 329. Burnet's Hist, of p. 31i. Reform, ii. pp. 298, 305. 360 HEXIIY ALARMED AT THE ENGLISH ALLLiNCE. [bookxi. emperor's negotiation in England with much uneasiness. Tlic great accession of territories as well as reputation which his enemy would accjuire by the marriage of his son with the queen of such a powerful kingdom, was obvious and formidable. He easily foresaw that the English, notwith- standing all their fears and precautions, would soon be drawn in to take part in the quarrels on the continent, and be compelled to act in subserviency to the emperor's ambitious schemes. For this reason, Henry had given it in charge to his ambassador at the court of London to employ all his address in order to defeat or retard the treaty of marriage ; and as there was not, at that time, any prince of the blood in Erance, whom he could propose to the queen as a husband, he instructed him to co-operate with such of the English as wished their sovereif]rn to marry one of her own subjects. But the queen's ardour and precipitation in closing with the first overtures in favour of Philip, having rendered all his endeavours ineffectual, Elenry was so far from thinking it prudent to give any aid to the English malecontents, though earnestly solicited by Wyat and their other leaders, Avho tempted him to take him under his protection, by offers of great advantage to IVance, that he commanded his ambassador to congratulate the queen in the warmest terms upon the suppression of the insurrection. Notwithstanding these external professions, Henry dreaded so nuich the consequence of this alliance, which more than compensated for all the emperor had lost in Germany, that he determhied to carry on his military operations, both in the Low Countries and in Italy, witli extraordinary vigour, in order that he might compel Charles to accept of an e(juitable peace, before liis daughter-in-law could surmount the aversion of her sid)jccts to a war on the continent, and prevail on them to assist the emperor either with money or troops. For this purpose, he exerted himself to the utmost, in order to have a numerous army BOOK XT.] HIS CAMPAIGN AGAINST CHARLES. 3()1 assembled on the frontiers of the Netherlands ; and while one part of it laid waste the open conntry of Artois, the main body, under the constable JMontmorency, advanced towards the provinces of Liege and Ilainault by the forest of Ardennes. The campaign was opened with the siege of Maricmburg, a town which tlie cpiecn of Hnngary, the governess of the Low Coimtries, had fortified at great expense ; but being destitute of a sufficient garrison, it surrendered in six days. Henry, elated with tliis success, put himself at the head of his army, and, investing IBouviucs, took it by assault, after a short resistance. With equal faciUty he became master of Dinant ; and then, turning to the left, bent his march towards the province of Artois, The large sums v/hicli the emperor had remitted into England, had so exhausted his treasury, as to render his preparations at this juncture slower and more dilatory than usual. He had no body of troops to make head against the French at their first entrance into his territories ; and though he drew together all the forces in the country in the utmost hurry, and gave the command of them to Emanuel Philibert of Savoy, they were in no condition to face an enemy so far superior in number. The prince of Savoy, however, by his activity and good conduct, made up for his want of troops. By watching all the motions of the French at a distance, and by choosing liis own posts with skill, he put it out of their power cither to form any siege of consequence, or to attack him. Want of subsistence soon obliged them to fall back towards their own frontiers, after having burnt all the open towns, and having plundered the country through which they marched, with a cruelty and license more becoming a body of light troops than a royal army led by a great monarch. But Henry, that he might not dismiss his army without attempting some conquest adequate to the great prepara- tions, as well as sanguine hopes, with which he had opened the campaign, invested Reuti, a place deemed in that age 362 HENRY INVESTS EENTI. [book xi. of great importance, as, by its situation on the confines of Artois and the Boulonnois, it covered the former province, and protected the parties which made incursions into the latter. The town, which was strongly fortified, and pro- vided with a numerous garrison, made a gallant defence ; but being warmly pressed by a powerful army, it must soon have yielded. The emperor, who at that time enjoyed a short interval of ease from the gout, was so solicitous to save it, that, although he could bear no other motion but that of a litter, he instantly put himself at the head of his army, which, having received several reinforcements, was now strong enough to approach the enemy. The French were easier to decide the fate of Renti bv a battle, and ex- pected it from the emperor's arrival in his camp ; but Charles avoided a general action with great industry, and, as he liad nothing in view but to save the town, he hoped to accomplish that, without exposing himself to the conse- quences of such a dangerous and doubtful event. Notwithstanding all his precautions, a dispute about a post, which both armies endeavoured to seize, brought on an engagement which proved almost general. The duke of Guise, who commanded the wing of the French which stood the brunt of the combat, displayed valour and conduct worthy of the defender of Metz ; the imperialists, after an obstinate struggle, were repulsed ; the French remained masters of the post in dispute ; and if the constable either from his natural caution and slowness, or from unwillingness to support a rival whom he hated, had not delayed bringing up the main body to second the im})ression which Guise had made, the rout of the enemy must have been complete. The emperor, notwithstanding the loss which he had sustained, continued in the same camp ; and the French, being strait- ened for provisions, and finding it impossible to carry on the siege in the face of a hostile army, quitted their entrench- ments. They retired openly, courting the enemy to approach, rather than shunning an engagement. BOOK XI.] COSMO DE' MEDICI'S SCHEMES. 363 But Charles, having gained his end, suffered them to march off unmolested. As soon as his troops entered their own country, Henry threw garrisons into the frontier towns, and dismissed the rest of the army. This encouraged the imperialists to push forward with a considerable body of troops into Picardy, and, by laying waste the country with fire and sword, they endeavoured to revenge themselves for tlie ravages which the French had committed in Hainault and Artois.^" But, as they were not able to reduce any place of importance, they gained nothing more than the enemy had done by this cruel and inglorious method of carrying on the war. The arms of France were still more unsuccessful in Italy. The footing which the French had acquired in Siena, occa- sioned much uneasiness to Cosmo de' Medici, the most sagacious and enterprising of all the Italian princes. He dreaded the neighbourhood of a powerful people, to whom all who favoured the ancient republican government in Florence would have recourse, as to their natural protectors, against that absolute authority which the emperor had enabled him to usurp ; he knew how odious he was to the French, on account of his attachment to the imperial party, and he foresaw that, if they were permitted to gather strength in Siena, Tuscany w^ould soon feel the effects of their resentment. For these reasons, he wished, with the utmost solicitude, for the expulsion of the French out of the Sienese, before they had time to establish themselves thoroughly in the country, or to receive such reinforcements from France as would render it dangerous to attack them. As this, however, was properly the emperor's business, who was called by his interest as well as honour to dislodge those formidable intruders into the heart of his dominions, Cosmo laboured to throw the whole burden of the enterprise on him ; and, on that account, had given no assistance, during 26 Tliuan. pp. 4Gf), &c. Harcei Ann. Brab. p. 674^ 364 ' COSMO DE' :\IEDICI'S PEEPARATIOXS [book xi. the former campaign, but by advancing some small smns of nione}^ towards the payment of the imperial troops. But as the defence of the Netherlands engrossed all the emperor's attention, and his remittances into England had drained his treasury, it was obvious that his operations in Italy would be extremely feeble ; and Cosmo plainly per- ceived, that if he himself did not take part openly in the war, and act with vigour, the rrencli would scarcely meet with any annoyance. As his situation rendered this resolution necessary and unavoidable, his next care was to execute it in such a manner, that he might derive from it some other advantao-e, besides that of drivinaj the French out of his neighbourhood. With this view, he despatched an envoy to Charles, offering to declare war against France and to reduce Siena at his own charges, on condition that he should be repaid whatever he might expend in the enterprise, and be permitted to retain all his conquests until his demands were fully satisfied. Charles, to whom, at this juncture, the war against Siena was an intolerable burden, and who had neither expedient nor resource that could enable him to carry it on with proper vigour, closed gladly with this overture ; and Cosmo, weJl acquainted with the low state of the imperial finances, flattered himself that the emperor, finding it impossible to reimburse hiin, would suffer him to keep quiet possession of whatever places he should conquer." Full of these hopes, he made great preparations for war, and as the French kinsr had turned the strenn;tli of his arms against the Netherlands, he did not despair of assembling sucli a body of men as would prove more than a sufficient match for any force wliich Henry could bring into the field in Italy. He endeavoured, by giving one of his daughters to the pope's nephew, to obtain assistance from the holy see, or at least to secure his remaining neutral. He attempt(^d to detach the duke of Orsini, whose family had been long _'' AJriuiii, Istoriii dc' suoi Tcnii)i, vol. i. p. 0G2. BOOK XI.] FOR WAR WITH FRANCE. 365 attached to the French party, from his ancient confederates, by bestowing on him another of his daughters ; and, what was of greater consequence than either of these, he engaged Jolm James Medecino, marquis of Marignano, to take the command of his army.-*^ This officer, from avery low condition in life, had raised himself, through all the ranks of service, to high command, and had displayed talents, and acquired reputation in Avar, which entitled him to be placed on a level with the greatest generals in that martial age. Having attained a station of eminence so disproportionate to his birth, he laboured, with a fond solicitude, to conceal his original obscurity, by giving out that he was descended of the family of Medici, to which honour the casual resem- blance of his nane was his only pretension. Cosmo, liappy that he could gratify him at such an easy rate, flattered his vanity in this point, acknowledged him as a relation, and permitted him to assume the arms of his family. Medecino, eager to serve the head of that family of M'hich he now con- sidered himself as a branch, applied with wonderful zeal and assiduity to raise troops ; and as, during his long ser- vice, he had acquired great credit with the leaders of those mercenary bands which formed the strength of Italian armies, he engaged the most eminent of them to follow Cosmo's standard. To oppose this able general, and the formidable army which he had assembled, the king of France made choice of Peter Strozzi, a Florentine nobleman, who had resided long in France as an exile, and who had ]-isen by his merit to high reputation as well as command in the army. He was the son of Philip Strozzi, who, in the year one thousand five hundred and thirty-seven, had concurred with such ardour in the attempt to expel the family of INIedici out of Florence, in order to re-establish the ancient republican form of government, and who had perished in the under- taking. The son inherited the inqolacable aversion to the 2^ Adriiiui, Istoria dc' suoi Tempi, vol. i. p. GG3. 366 THE FRENCH IN ITAIA UNDER STROZZI. [book xi. Medici, as well as the same enthusiastic zeal for the hberty of Florence which had animated his father, whose death he was impatient to revenge. Henry flattered himself that his army would make rapid progress under a general whose zeal to promote his interest was roused and seconded by such powerful passions ; especially as he had allotted him, for the scene of action, his native country, in which he had many powerful partisans, ready to facilitate all his operations. But how specious soever the motives miglit appear which induced Henry to make this choice, it proved fatal to the interests of France in Italy. Cosmo, as soon as he heard that the mortal enemy of his family was appointed to take the command in Tuscany, concluded that the king of France aimed at something more than the protection of the Sicnese, and saw the necessity of making extraordinary elforts, not merely to reduce Siena, but to save himself from destruc- tion.^^ At the same time the cardinal of Ferrara, who had the entire direction of the French affairs in Italy, considered Strozzi as a formidable rival in power, and, in order to pre- vent his acquiring any increase of authority from success, he was extremely remiss in supplying him either with money to pay his troops, or with provisions to support them. Strozzi himself, blinded by his resentment against the Medici, pushed on his operations with the impetuosity of revenge, rather than with the caution and prudence becoming a great general. At first, however, he attacked several towns in the terri- tory of Florence with sucli vigour as obliged Medecino, in order to check his progress, to withdraw the greater part of his army from Siena, which he had invested before Strozzi's arrival in Italy. As Cosmo sustained the wliole burden of military operations, tlic expense of which must soon have exhausted his revenues ; as neither the viceroy of Naples nor governor of Milan was in conchtion to afford him any effectual aid; and as the troops wliicli Medecino had left in ^^ Pccci, Memoric di Siena, vol. iv. \)[). 103, &c. BOOK XL] THEIR DEFEAT. 367 the camp before Siena could attempt nothing against it dur- ing his absence, it was Strozzi's business to have protracted the war, and to have transferred the seat of it into the ter- ritories of Morence ; but the hope of ruining his enemy by one decisive blow, precipitated him into a general engage- ment, not far from IMarciano. The armies were nearly equal in number ; but a body of Itahan cavalry, in which Strozzi placed great confidence, having fled without making any resistance, either through the treachery or cowardice of the officers who commanded it, his infantry remained exposed to the attacks of all Medecino's troops. Encouraged, how- ever, by Strozzi's presence and example, who, after receiving a dangerous wound in endeavouring to rally the cavalry, placed himself at the head of the infantry, and manifested an admirable presence of mind, as well as extraordinary valour, they stood their ground with great firmness, and repulsed such of the enemy as ventured to approach them. But those gallant troops being surrounded at last on every side, and torn in pieces by a battery of cannon which Mede- cino brought to bear upon them, the Florentine cavalry broke in on their flanks, and a general rout ensued. Strozzi, faint with the loss of blood, and deeply affected with the fatal consequences of his own rashness, found the utmost difficulty in making his escape with a handful of men.^° Medecino returned immediately to the siege of Siena with his victorious forces, and as Strozzi could not, after the greatest efforts of activity, collect as many men as to form the appearance of a regular army, he had leisure to carry on his approaches against the town without molestation. But the Sienese, instead of sinking into despair upon this cruel disappointment of their only hope of obtaining relief, prepared to defend themselves to the utmost extremity, with that undaunted fortitude which the love of liberty alone can inspire. This generous resolution was warmly seconded by Mouluc, who commanded the French garrison ^° Pecci, Memorie di Siena, vol. iv. p. 157. 368 SIEGE OF SIENA. [bookxi. in the town. The active and enterprising conrage which he had displayed on many occasions, had procnred him this command ; and as he had ambition which aspired at the liighest mihtary dignities, without any pretensions to attain them but what he could derive from merit, he determined to distinguish his defence of Siena by extraordinary efforts of valour and perseverance. For this purpose, he repaired and strengthened the fortifications with unwearied industry; he trained the citizens to the use of arms, and accustomed them to go through the fatigues and dangers of service in common with the soldiers ; and as the enemy were extremely strict in guarding all the avenues to the city, he husbanded the provisions in the magazines with the most parsimonious economy, and prevailed on the soldiers, as well as the citi- zens, to restrict themselves to a very moderate daily allow- ance for their subsistence. Medecino, though his army was not numerous enough to storm the town by open force, ventured twice to assaidt it by surprise ; but he was received each time with so mucli spiiit, and repulsed with such loss, as discouraged him from repeating the attempt, and left him no hopes of reducing the town but by famine. With this view, he fortified his own camp Avith great care, occupied all the posts of strength round the phice, and having entirely cut off the besieged from any communica- tion with the adjacent country, he waited patiently until necessity should compel them to open their gates. J3ut their enthusiastic zeal for liberty made the citizens despise the distresses occasioned by the scarcity of provisions, and supported them long under all the miseries of famine : jMonluc, by his example and exhortations, taught his sol- diers to vie with them in patience and abstinence; and it was not until they had withstood a siege of ten months, until they had eaten up all the horses, dogs, and other animals in the place, and were reduced almost to their last morsel of bread, that they proposed a capitulation. [15 5 5. J Even then they demanded honourable terms; and as Cosmo, }?ooKxi.] SIEGE OF SIENA. 369 though no stranger to the extremity of their condition, was afraid that despair might prompt them to venture upon some wild enterprise, he immediately granted them conditions more favourable than they could have expected. The capitulation was made in the emperor's name, who engaged to take the republic of Siena under the protection of the empire ; he promised to maintain the ancient liber- ties of the city, to allow the magistrates the full exercise of their former authority, to secure the citizens in the un- disturbed possession of their privileges and property ; he granted an ample and unlimited pardon to all who had borne arms against him ; he reserved to himself the right of placing a garrison in the town, but engaged not to rebuild the citadel without the consent of the citizens. Monluc and his rrench garrison were allowed to march out with all the honours of war. Medecino observed the articles of capitulation, as far as depended on him, with great exactness. No violence or insult whatever was offered to the inhabitants, and the French garrison was treated with all the respect due to their spirit and bravery. But many of the citizens sus- pecting, from the extraordinary facility with which they had obtained such favourable conditions, that the emperor, as well as Cosmo, would take the first opportunity of viola- ting them, and disdaining to possess a precarious liberty, which depended on the will of another, abandoned the place of their nativity, and accompanied the French to Monte-Alcino, Porto Ercole, and other small towns in the territory of the republic. They established in Monte-Alcino the same model of government to which they had been accustomed at Siena, and appointing magistrates with the same titles and jurisdiction, solaced themselves with this image of their ancient liberty. The fears of theSienese concerning the fate of their country were not imaginary, or their suspicion of the emperor and Cosmo ill founded ; for no sooner had the imperial troops VOL. II. B 15 370 HUMILIATION OF THE SIENESE. [bookxi. taken possession of the to\Yn than Cosmo, without regarding the articles of capitulation, not only displaced the magistrates who were in office, and nominated new ones devoted to his own interest, but commanded all the citizens to deliver up their arms to persons whom he appointed to receive them. They submitted to the former from necessity, though with all the reluctance and regret which men accustomed to liberty feel in obeying the first commands of a master. They did not yield the same tame obedience to the latter ; and many persons of distinction, rather than degrade themselves from the rank of freemen to the condition of slaves, by surren- dering their arms, fled to their countrymen at Monte- Alcino, and chose to endure all the hardships, and encounter all the dangers, which they had reason to expect in that new station, where they had fixed the seat of their republic. Cosmo, not reckoning himself secure while such numbers of implacable and desperate enemies were settled in his neighbourhood, and retained any degree of power, solicited Medecino to attack them in their difierent places of retreat, before they had time to recruit their strength and spirits, after the many calamities which they had suffered. He prevailed on him, though his army was much weakened by hard duty during the siege of Siena, to invest Porto Ercole ; and, the fortifications being both slight and incom- plete, the besieged were soon compelled to open their gates. An unexpected order, which Medecino received from the emperor to detach the greater part of his troops into Pied- mont, prevented further operations, and permitted the Sienese exiles to reside for some time undisturbed in Monte- Alcino. But their unhappy countrymen who remained at Siena were not yet at the end of their sufferings ; for the emperor, instead of adhering to the articles of capitulation, granted his son Philij) the investiture of that city and all its dependencies ; and Prancis dc Toledo, in the name of their new master, proceeded to settle the civil and miUtary govern- ment, treated them like a conquered people, and subjected BOOK XI.] TIIE IMPERIALISTS IN PIEDMONT. 371 them to the Spanish yoke, without paying any regard what- ever to their privileges or ancient form of government.^' The imperial army in Piedmont had been so feeble for some time, and its commander so inactive, that the emperor, in order to give vigour to his operations in that quarter, found it necessary not only to recal Medecino's troops from Tuscany while in the career of conquest, but to employ in Piedmont a general of such reputation and abilities, as might counterbalance the great military talents of the Marechal Brissac, who was at the head of the Prench forces in that country. He pitched on the duke of Alva for that purpose ; but that choice was as much the effect of a court intrigue, as of his opinion with respect to the duke's merit. Alva had long made court to Philip with the utmost assiduity, and had endeavoured to work himself into his confidence by all the insinuating arts of which his haughty and inflexible nature was capable. As he nearly resembled that prince in many fea- tures of his character, he began to gain much of his goodwill. Ruy Gomez de Silva, Philip's favourite, wdio dreaded the pro- gress which this formidable rival made in his master's affec- tions, had the address to prevail with the emperor to name Alva to this command. The duke, though sensible that he owed this distinction to the malicious arts of an enemy, who had no other aim than to remove him at a distance from court, was of such punctilious honour, that he would not decline a command that appeared dangerous and difficult, but, at the same time, was so haughty, that he would not accept of it but on his own terms, insisting on being appointed the emperor's vicar-general in Italy, with the supreme military command in all the imperial and Spanish territories in that country. Charles granted all his demands ; and he took pos- session of his new dignity with almost unlimited authority. ^^ Sleid. p. 617. Thuan. lib. xv. 1561 ap. Erelierum, vol. iii. p. 564. pp. 526, 537. Joan. Camerarii Adnot. Pecci, Memorie di Sieua, iv- pp. 64, Jter. prsecipuaruin ab anno 1550 ad &c, B B 2 372 OPEEATIONS OF THE DUKE OF ALYA. [book xi. His first operations, however, were neither proportioned to his former reputation, and the extensive powers with which he was invested, nor did they come up to the emperor's expectations. Brissac had under his command an army which, though inferior in number to the imperiahsts, was composed of chosen troops, which having grown old in ser- vice in that country, where every town was fortified, and every castle capable of being defended, were perfectly acquainted with the manner of carrying on war there. By their valour, and his own good conduct, Brissac not only defeated all the attempts of the imperiahsts, but added new conquests to the territories of wdiich he was formerly master. Alva, after having boasted, with his usual arrogance, that he would drive the French out of Piedmont in a few weeks, was obliged to retire into winter-quarters, with the morti- fication of being unable to preserve entire that part of the country of which the emperor had hitherto kept possession. ^^ A s the operations of this campaign in Piedmont were indecisive, those in the Netherlands were inconsiderable, neither the emperor nor king of France being able to bring into the field an army strong enough to undertake any enterprise of moment. But what Charles wanted in force, he endeavoured to supply by a bold stratagem, the success of which would have been equal to that of the most vigorous campaign. During the siege of Metz, Leonard, father guar- dian of a convent of Franciscans in that city, had insinuated himself far into the esteem and favour of the duke of Guise by his attachment to the French. Being a man of an active and intriguing spirit, he had been extremely useful both in animating the inhabitants to sustain with patience all the hardships of the siege, and in ])rocuring intelligence of the enemy's designs and motions. The merit of those important services, together with the warm recommendations of the duke of Guise, secured him such high confidence with Viclle- villc, who was appointed governor of Metz when Guise left ^ Tlniaii. lib. xv. p. 529. Guichcuon, Hist, de Savoie, torn. i. p CJO. BOOK XI.] CONSPIRACY TO BETRAY METZ. 373 the town, that he was permitted to converse or correspond with whatever persons he thought fit, and nothing that he did created any suspicion. This monk, from the levity natural to bold and projecting adventurers ; or from resent- ment against the French, who had not bestowed on him such rewards as he thought due to his own merit ; or tempted by the unlimited confidence which was placed in him, to imagine that he might carry on and accomplish any scheme with perfect security, formed a design of betraying Metz to the imperialists. He communicated his intentions to the queen-dowager of Hungary, who governed the Low Countries in the name of her brother. She approving, without any scruple, any act of treachery from which the emperor might derive such signal advantage, assisted the father guardian in concerting the most proper plan for ensuring its success. They agreed that the father guardian should endeavour to gain his monks to concur in promoting the design ; that he should introduce into the convent a certain number of chosen soldiers, dis- guised in the habit of friars ; that, when everything was ripe for execution, the governor of Thionville should march towards Metz in the night with a considerable body of troops, and attempt to scale the ramparts ; that while the garrison was employed in resisting the assailants, the monks should set fire to the town in different places ; that the soldiers who lay concealed should sally out of the convent, and attack those who defended the ramparts in the rear. Amidst the universal terror and confusion which events so unexpected w^ould occasion, it was not doubted but that the imperialists might become masters of the town. As a recom- pence for this service, the father guardian stipulated that he should be appointed bishop of Metz, and ample rewards were promised to such of his monks as should be most active in cooperating with him. The father guardian accomplished what he had under- taken to perform with great secrecy and despatch. By his 374 DISCOVERY OF THE CONSPIRACY, [bookxi. authority and arguments, as well as by the prospect of wealth and honours which he set before his monks, he pre- vailed on all of them to enter into the conspiracy. He introduced into the convent, without being suspected, as many soldiers as were thought sufficient. The governor of Thionville, apprised in due time of the design, had assem- bled a proper number of troops for executing it ; and the moment approached, which probably would have wrested from Plenry the most important of all his conquests. But, happily for France, on the very day that was fixed for striking the blow, Vielleville, an able and vigilant officer, received information from a spy w'hom he entertained at Thionville, that certain Franciscan friars resorted frequently thither, and were admitted to many private conferences with the governor, who was carrying on preparations for some military enterprise with great despatch, but with a most mysterious secrecy. This was sufficient to awaken Vielle- ville's suspicions. Without communicating these to any person, he instantly visited the convent of Franciscans ; de- tected the soldiers who v»^ere concealed there ; and forced them to discover as much as they knew concerning the nature of the enterprise. The father guardian, who had gone to Thionville that he might put the last hand to his machi- nations, w\as seized at the gate as he returned ; and he, in order to save himself from the rack, revealed all the circum- stances of the conspiracy. Vielleville, not satisfied with having seized the traitors, and having frustrated their schemes, w^as solicitous to take advantage of the discoveries which he had made, so as to be revenged on the imperialists. For this purpose he marched out with the best troops in his garrison, and placing these in ambush near the road, by which the father guardian liad informed him that the governor of Thionville Avould a})- proach IMctz, he fell upon the imperialists with great fury, as tliey advanced in j)errcct security, without suspecting any danger to be near. Confounded at (his sudden attack, by BOOK XI.] AND FATE OF THE CONSPIRATORS. 375 an enemy whom they expected to surprise, they made Httlc resistance : and a great part of the troops employed in this service, among whom were many persons of distinction, was killed or taken prisoners. Before next morning, Vielleville returned to Metz in triumph. No resolution was taken for some time concerning the fate of the father guardian and his monks, the framers and conductors of this dangerous conspiracy. Regard for the honour of a body so numerous and respectable as the Fran- ciscans, and unwillingness to afford a subject of triumph to the enemies of the Romish church by their disgrace, seem to have occasioned this delay. But, at length, the necessity of inflicting exemplary punishment upon them, in order to deter others from venturing to commit the same crime, became so evident that orders were issued to proceed to their trial. The guilt was made apparent by the clearest evidence, and sentence of death was passed upon the father guardian, together with twenty monks. On the evening previous to the day fixed for their execution, the gaoler took them out of the dungeons in which they had hitherto been confined separately, and shut them all up in one great room, that they might confess their sins one to another, and join together in preparing for a future state. But as soon as they were left alone, instead of employing them- selves in the religious exercises suitable to their condition, they began to reproach the father guardian, and four of the senior monks who had been most active in seducing them, for their inordinate ambition which had brought such misery en them, and such disgrace upon their order. From reproaches they proceeded to curses and execrations, and at last, in a frenzy of rage and despair, they fell upon them with such violence that they murdered the father guardian on the spot, and so disabled the other four, that it became necessary to carry them next morning in a cart, together with the dead body of the father guardian, to the place of execution. Six of the youngest were par- 376 FRUITLESS NEGOTIATIONS. [bookxi. doned ; tlie rest suffered the punishment which their crime merited. ^^ Though both parties, exhausted by the length of the war, carried it on in this languishing manner, neither of them showed any disposition to listen to overtures of peace. Cardinal Pole, indeed, laboured with all the zeal becoming his piety and humanity, to re-establish concord among the princes of Christendom. He had not only persuaded his mistress, the queen of England, to enter w-armly into his sentiments, and to offer her mediation to the contending powers, but had prevailed both on the emperor and king of France to send their plenipotentiaries to a village between Gravelines and Ardres. He himself, together with Gardiner, bishop of Winchester, repaired thither, in order to preside as mediators in the conferences wdiich were to be held for adjusting all the points in difference. But though each of the monarchs committed this negotiation to some of their ministers, in whom they placed the greatest confidence, it was soon evident that they came together with no sincere desire of accommodation. Each proposed articles so extravagant that they could have no hopes of their being accepted. Pole, after exerting in vain all his zeal and address, in order to persuade them to relinquish such extravagant demands, and to consent to the substi- tution of more equal conditions, became sensible of the folly of wasting time, in attempting to re-establish concord between those whom their obstinacy rendered irrecon- cileable, broke off the conference, and returned to England.^* During these transactions in other parts of Europe, Ger- many enjoyed such ])rofound tranquillity as afforded the diet full leisure to deliberate, and to establish proper regu- lations concerning a point of the greatest consequence to the internal peace of the empire. ]^y the treaty of Passau, ^■' Thuan. lib. XV. p. .522. Bclcar. tom.iii.pp. 219,&c. p. 347. Par.1757. Com. Kcr. Gal. p. 86G. Memoircs du ^^ Tliuan. lib. xv. p. 523. Mom. Mttr6ch. Vielleville, par M. Charioix, Ribier, toin. ii. p. 613. BOOK XI.] DIET OF AUGSBURG. ?>']'] in one thousand five hundred and fifty-two, it had been referred to the next diet of the empire to confirm and per- fect the plan of rehgious pacification which was there agreed upon. The terror and confusion with which the violent commotions excited by Albert of Brandenburg had filled Germany, as well as the constant attention which Ferdinand was obliged to give to the aff'airs of Hungary, had hitherto prevented the holding a diet, though it had been sum- moned, soon after the conclusion of the treaty, to meet at Augsburg. But as a diet was now necessary, on many accounts, Ferdinand, about the beginning of this year, had repaired to Augsburg. Though few of the princes were present, either in person or by their deputies, he opened the as- sembly by a speech, in which he proposed a termination of the dissensians to which the new tenets and controversies with regard to religion had given rise, not only as the first and great business of the diet, but as the point which both the emperor and he had most at heart. He represented the innumerable obstacles which the emperor had to sur- mount before he could procure the convocation of a general council, as well as the fatal accidents which had for some time retarded, and had at last suspended, the consultations of that assembly. He observed that experience had already taught them how vain it was to expect any remedy for evils which demanded immediate redress, from a general council, the assembling of which would either be prevented, or its deliberations be interrupted, by the dissensions and hostilities of the princes of Christendom ; that a national council in Germany, wdiich, as some imagined, might be called with greater ease, and deliberate with more perfect security, was an assembly of an unprecedented nature, the jurisdiction of which was uncertain in its extent, and the form of its proceedings undefined ; that, in his opinion, there remained but one method for composing their un- happy differences, which, though it had been often tried 378 lEAES OF THE PROTESTANTS. [bookxi. without success, might yet prove effectual if it were at- tempted with a better and more pacific spirit than had appeared on former occasions, and that was to choose a few men of learning, abilities, and moderation, who, by dis- cussing the disputed articles, in an amicable conference, might explain them in such a manner as to bring the con- tending parties either to unite in sentiment, or to differ with charity. This speech being printed in common form, and dis- persed over the eniph*e, revived the fears and jealousies of the protestants ; Ferdinand, they observed, with much sur- prise, had not once mentioned, in his address to the diet, the treaty of Passau, the stipulations in which they con- sidered as the great security of their religious liberty. The suspicions to which this gave rise were confirmed by the accounts which they daily received of the extreme severity with which Ferdinand treated their protestant brethren in his hereditary dominions ; and as it was natural to consider his actions as the surest indication of his intentions, this diminished their confidence in those pompous professions of moderation and of zeal for the re- establishment of concord, to Avhich his practice seemed to be so repugnant. The arrival of the Cardinal jMoronc, wliom the pope had appointed to attend the diet as his nuncio, completed their conviction, and left them no room to doubt that some dangerous machination was forming against the peace or safety of the protestant church. Julius, elated with the unexpected return of the Fnglish nation from apostasy, began to flatter himself that the spirit of mutiny and revolt having now spent its force, the hap})y period was come when the church might resume its ancient authority, and be obeyed by the people with the same tame submission as formerly. Full of these hopes, he had sent Morone to Augs- burg, with instructions to cmi)l()y his elocpience to excite the Germans to imitate the laudable example of the English, and his political address in order to prevent any decree of BOOK XI.] DEATH OF POPE JULIUS HI, 3/9 the diet to the detriment of the catholic faith. As Moronc inherited from his father, the chancellor of Milan, uncommon talents for negotiation and intrigue, he could hardly have failed of embarrassing the measures of the protestants in the diet, or of defeating whatever they aimed at obtaining in it for their further security. But an unforeseen event delivered them from all the danger which they had reason to apprehend from Morone's presence. Julius, by abandoning himself to pleasures and amusements no less unbecoming his age than his character, having contracted such habits of dissipation that any serious occupation, especially if attended with difficulty, became an intolerable burden to him, had long resisted the solicitations of his nephew to hold a consistory, because he expected there a violent opposition to his schemes in favour of that young man. But when all the pretexts which he could invent for eluding this request were exhausted, and, at the same time, his indolent aversion to business continued to grow upon him, he feigned indisposition rather than yield to his nephew's importunity; and that he might give the deceit a greater colour of probability, he not only confined himself to his apartment, but changed his usual diet and manner of life. By persisting too long in acting this ridiculous part, he contracted a real disease, of w^hich he died in a few days, leaving his infamous minion, the Cardi- nal di Monte, to bear his name, and to disgrace the dignity which he had conferred upon him.'^^ As soon as ]\Iorone heard of his death, he set out abruptly from Augsburg, where he had resided only a few days, that he might be present at the election of a new pontiff. One cause of their suspicions and fears being thus removed, the protestants soon became sensible that their conjectures concerning Ferdinand's intentions, however wSpecious, were ill founded, and that he had no thoughts of violating the articles favourable to them in the treaty of '' Onuplir. Panvinius dc Titis Poutificum, p. 320. Tlman. lib. xv. p. 517. 380 RENEWAL OE SCHE^IE OE SUCCESSION. [bookxi. Passaii. Charles, from the time that Maurice had defeated all his schemes in the empire, and overturned the great scheme of religious and civil despotism, which he had al- most established there, gave little attention to the internal government of Germany, and permitted his brother to pursue whatever measures he judged most salutary and expedient. Ferdinand, less ambitious and enterprising than the em- peror, instead of resuming a plan which he, with power and resources so far superior, had failed of accomplishing, endeavoured to attach the princes of the empire to his family by an administration uniformly moderate and equi- table. To this he gave at present particular attention, because his situation at this juncture rendered it necessary to court their favour and support with more than usual assiduity. Charles had again resumed his favourite project of ac- quiring the imperial crown for his son Philip, the prose- cution of which the reception it had met with when first proposed had obliged him to suspend, but had not induced him to relinquish. This led him warmly to renew his request to his brother, that he would accept of some com- pensation for his prior right of succession, and sacrifice that to the grandeur of the house of Austria. Ferdinand, who was as little disposed as formerly to give such an extraordi- nary proof of self-denial, being sensible that, in order to defeat this scheme, not only the most inflexible firmness on his part, but a vigorous declaration from the princes of the empire in behalf of his title, was requisite, was willing to ])urchase their favour by gratifying them in every point that they deemed interesting or essential. At the same time, he stood in need of immediate and extraordinary aid from the Germanic body, as the Turks, after having wrested from him great part of his Hungarian tcrj-itories, were ready to attack the provinces still subject to jiis authority Avitli a formidable army, against which he could bring no equal force into the field. For this aid from BOOK XI.] FERDINAND'S POLICY. 381 Germany he could not hope, if the internal peace of the empire were not established on a foundation solid in itself, and which should appear even to the protestants so secure and so permanent, as might not only allow them to engage in a distant war with safety, but might encourage them to act in it with vigour. A step taken by the protestants themselves, a short time after the opening of the diet, rendered him still more cautious of giving them any new cause of offence. As soon as the publication of Ferdinand's speech awak- ened the fears and suspicions which have been mentioned, the electors of Saxony and Brandenburg, together with the landgrave of Hesse, met atNaumburg, and, confirming the ancient treaty of confraternity which had long united their families, they added to it a new article, by which the con- tracting parties bound themselves to adhere to the Confes- sion of Augsburg, and to maintain the doctrine which it contained in their respective dominions. ^^ Ferdinand, influenced by all these considerations, em- ployed his utmost address in conducting the deliberations of the diet, so as not to excite the jealousy of a party on whose friendship he depended, and whose enmity, as they had not only taken the alarm, but had begun to prepare for their defence, he had so much reason to dread. The mem- bers of the diet readily agreed to Ferdinand's proposal of taking the state of religion into consideration, previous to any other business. But, as soon as they entered upon it, both parties discovered all the zeal and animosity which a subject so interesting naturally engenders, and which the rancour of controversy, together with the violence of civil war, had inflamed to the highest pitch. The protestants contended that the security which they claimed, in consequence of the treaty of Passau, should extend, without limitation, to all who had hitherto embraced the doctrine of Luther, or who should hereafter embrace it. 2« CliytrfT.i Saxonia, p. 4S0. 382 PUBLICATION OF RECESS, [bookxi. The catholics, having first of all asserted the pope's right as the supreme and final judge with respect to all articles of faith, declared that though, on account of the present situa- tion of the empire, and for the sake of peace, they were willing to confirm the toleration granted by the treaty of Passau to such as had already adopted the new opinions, they must insist that this indulgence should not be ex- tended either to those cities which had conformed to the Interim, or to such ecclesiastics as should for the future apostatize from the church of Rome. It was no easy matter to reconcile such opposite pretensions, which were sup- ported, on each side, by the most elaborate arguments, and the greatest acrimony of expression, that the abihties or zeal of theologians long exercised in disputation could sug- gest. Ferdinand, however, by his address and perseve- rance ; by softening some things on each side ; by putting a favourable meaning upon others ; by representing inces- santly the necessity as well as the advantages of concord ; and by threatening, on some occasions, when all other con- siderations were disregarded, to dissolve the diet, brought them at length to a conclusion in which they all agreed. Conformably to this, a recess was framed, approved of, and published with the usual formalities. The following are the chief articles which it contained : — That such princes and cities as have declared their approbation of the Confes- sion of Augsburg, shall be permitted to profess the doctrine and exercise the worship which it authorizes, Avithout inter- ruption or molestation from the emperor, the king of the Romans, or any power or person whatsoever ; that the protestants, on their part, shall give no disquiet to the princes and states who adhere to the tenets and rites of the church of Rome ; that, for the future, no attempt shall be made towards terminating religious difl^ercnces, but by the gentle and pacific methods of persuasion and con- ference ; that the popish ecclesiastics shall claim no spi- ritual jurisdiction hi such states as receive the Confession BOOK XI.] AND SETTLEMENT OF RELIGION. 383 of Augsburg ; tliat such as had seized the benefices or reve- nues of the church, previous to the treaty of Passau, shall retain possession of them, and be liable to no prosecution in the imperial chamber on that account ; that the supreme civil power in every state shall have right to establish what form of doctrine and worship it shall deem proper, and, if any of its subjects refuse to conform to these, shall permit them to remove, with all their effects, whithersoever they shall please ; that if any prelate or ecclesiastic shall hereafter abandon the Romish religion, he shall instantly relinquish his diocese or benefice, and it shall be lawful for those in whom the right of nomination is vested, to proceed imme- diately to an election, as if the office were vacant, by death or translation, and to appoint a successor of undoubted attachment to the ancient system." Such are the capital articles in this famous recess, which is the basis of religious peace in Germany, and the bond of union among its various states, the sentiments of which are so extremely different with respect to points the most interesting as well as important. In our age and nation, to which the idea of toleration is familiar, and its beneficial effects well known, it may seem strange that a method of ter- minating their dissensions, so suitable to the mild and cha- ritable spirit of the Christian religion, did not sooner occur to the contending parties. But this expedient, however salutary, was so repugnant to the sentiments and practice of Christians during many ages, that it did not lie obvious to discovery. Among the ancient heathens, all whose deities were local and tutelary, diversity of sentiment concerning the object or rites of religious worship seems to have been no source of animosity, because the acknowledging venera- tion to be due to any one god, did not imply denial of the existence or the power of any other god ; nor were the modes and rites of worship established in one country incompatible with those which other nations approved of S7 Skid, r- G20. F. Paul. p. 3G8. Fallav. P. ii. p. 101. 384 PRINCIPLES OF TOLERATION. [book xi. and observed. Thus the errors in tlieir system of theology were of such a nature as to be productive of concord ; and, notwithstanding the amazing number of their deities, as well as the infinite variety of their ceremonies, a sociable and tolerating spirit subsisted almost universally in the pagan world. But when the Christian revelation declared one Supreme Being to be the sole object of religious veneration, and prescribed the form of worship most acceptable to him, whoever admitted the truth of it held, of consequence, every other system of religion, as a deviation from what was established by divine authority, to be false and impious. Hence arose the zeal of the first converts to the Christian faith in propagating its doctrines, and the ardour with which they laboured to overturn every other form of worship. They employed, however, for this purpose no methods but such as suited the nature of religion ; by the force of powerful arguments, they convhiced the under- standings of men ; by the charms of superior virtue, they allured and captivated their hearts. At length the civil power declared in favour of Christianity ; and though num- bers, imitating the example of their superiors, crowded into the church, many still adhered to their ancient superstitions. Enraged at their obstinacy, the ministers of religion, whose zeal was still unabated, though their sanctity and virtue were much diminished, forgot so far the nature of their own mission, and of the arguments which they ought to have employed, that they armed the imperial power against these unhappy men, and, as they could not persuade, they tried to compel them to believe. At the same time, controversies concerning articles of faith multiplied, from various causes, among Christians tlicmselvcs, and the same unhallowed weapons which had first been used against the enemies of tlieir religion, were turned against each other. Every zealous disputant endea- voured to interest the civil magistrate in his cause, and BOOK XI.] THE POPE'S INFALLIBILITY ASSERTED. 385 each in liis turn employed the secular arm to crush or to exterminate his opponents. Not long after, the Lishops of Rome put in their claim to infallibility in explaining articles of faith, and deciding points in controversy ; and, bold as the pretension was, they, by their artifices and per- severance, imposed on the credulity of mankind, and brought them to recon;nise it. To doubt or to denv any doctrine to which these unerring instructors had given the sanction of their a})probation was held to be not only a resisting of truth, but an act of rebellion against their sacred autho- rity ; and the secular power, of which by various arts they had acquired the absolute direction, was instantly employed to avenge both. Thus Europe had been accustomed, during many centu- ries, to see speculative opinions propagated or defended by force ; the charity and mutual forbearance which Christi- anity recommends with so much warmth, were forgotten ; the sacred rights of conscience and of private judgment were unheard of; and not only the idea of toleration, but even the word itself, in the sense now affixed to it, was unknown. A right to extirpate error by force was univer- sally allowed to be the prerogative of such as possessed the knowledge of truth ; and as each party of Christians believed that they had got possession of this invaluable attainment, they all claimed and exercised, as far as they were able, the rights which it was supposed to convey. The Roman catholics, as their system rested on the decisions of an infalUble judge, never doubted that truth was on their side,, and openly called on the civil power to repel the impious and heretical innovators who had risen up against it. The protestants, no less confident that their doctrine was avcU- founded, required, with equal ardour, the princes of their party to check such as presumed to impugn it. Luther, Calvin, Cranmer, Knox, the founders of the reformed church in their respective countries, as far as they had power and opportunity, inflicted the same punishments upon such as VOL. II. c c 386 I^TOLERAKCE OF THE RELIGIOUS SECTS. [book xr. caUed in question any article in their creeds, which were denounced against their own disciples by the church of Rome. To their followers, and perhaps to their opponents, it would have appeared a symptom of diffidence in the goodness of their cause, or an acknowledgment that it was not well founded, if they had not employed hi its defence all those means which it was supposed truth had a right to employ. It was towards the close of the seventeenth centmy, before toleration, under its present form, was admitted tirst into the repubUc of the United Provinces, and from thence introduced into England. Long experience of the calamities flowing from mutual persecution, the influence of free govern- ment, the light and humanity acquired by the progress of science, together with the prudence and authority of the civil magistrate, were all requisite in order to establish a regu- lation, so repugnant to the ideas which all the different sects had adopted, from mistaken conceptions concerning the nature of religion and the rights of truth, or which all of them had derived from the erroneous maxims established by the church of Rome. The recess of Augsburg, it is evident, was founded on no such liberal and enlarged sentiments concerning freedom of religious inquiry, or the nature of toleration. It was nothing more than a scheme of pacification, which political considerations alone had suggested to the contending parties, and regard for their mutual tranquillity and safety had rendered necessary. Of this there can be no stronger proof than an article in the recess itself, by which the benefits of the pacification are declared to extend only to the catholics on the one si(k', and to such as adhered to the Confession of Augsburg on the other. The followers of Zuinglius and Calvin remained, in consequence of that exclusion, without any protection from the rigour of the laws denounced against heretics. Nor did (hey obtain any legal security until the treaty of Westphalia, near a century after this BOOK XI.] MARCELLUS THE SECOND, ELECTED POPE. 387 period, provided, that they should be admitted to enjoy, in as ample a manner as the Lutherans, all the advantages and protection which the recess of Augsburg afibrds. But if the followers of Luther were highly pleased with the security which they acquired by this recess, such as adhered to the ancient system had no less reason to be satisfied wath that article in it, which preserved entire to the Roman catholic church the benefices of such ecclesi- astics as should hereafter renounce its doctrines. This article, known in Germany by the name of the Ecclesias- tical Reservation, was apparently so conformable to the idea and to the rights of an established church, and it seemed so equitable to prevent revenues which had been originally appropriated for the maintenance of persons attached to a certain system, from being alienated to any other purpose, that the protestants, though they foresaw its consequences, were obliged to relinquish their opposition to it. As the Roman catholic princes of the empire have taken care to see this article exactly observed in every car.e where there was an opportunity of putting it in execution, it has proved the great barrier of the Romish church in Germany against the reformation ; and as, from this period, the same temptation of interest did not allure ecch siastics to relin- quish the established system, there have been few of that order, who have loved truth with such disinterested and ardent affection, as, for its sake, to abandon the rich bene- fices which they had in possession. During the sitting of the diet, Marcellus Cervino, car- dinal di Santo Croce, was elected pope in room of Julius. He, in imitation of Adrian, did not change his name on being exalted to the papal chair. As he equalled that pontiff in purity of intention, while he excelled him much in the arts of government, and still more in knowledge of the state and genius of the papal court, as he had capacity to discern what reformation it needed, as well as what it could bear; such regulations were expected from his virtue c c 2 388 DEATH OF MARCELLUS— ELECTION OE PAUL, [book xr. and wisdom, as would have removed many of its grossest and most flagrant corruptions, and have contributed towards reconcihng to the church such as, from indignation at these enormities, had abandoned its communion. But this excel- lent jDontifl" was only shown to the church, and immediately snatched away. The confinement in the conclave had impaired his health, and the fatigue of tedious ceremonies upon his accession, together with too intense and anxious application of mind to the schemes of improvement which he meditated, exhausted so entirely the vigour of his feeble constitution, that he sickened on the twelfth, and died on the twentieth day after his election."^ All the refinements in artifice and intrigue, peculiar to conclaves, were displayed in that which was held for elect- ing a successor to jMarcellus ; the cardinals of the imperial and French factions labouring, with equal ardour, to gain the necessary number of suffrages for one of their own party. But, after a struggle of no long duration, though conducted with ail the warmth and eagerness natural to men contending for so great an object, they united in choosing John Peter Caralla, the eldest member of the sacred college, and the son of Count Montorio, a nobleman of an illustrious family in the kingdom of Naples. The address and influence of Cardinal Farnese, who favoured his pretensions, Carafl'a's own merit, and perhaps his great age, which soothed all the disappointed candidates with the near prospect of a new vacancy, concurred in bringing about this speedy union of sufi'rages. In order to testify his respect for the memory of Paul III., by whom he had been created cardinal, as well as his gratitude to the family of Earnese, he assumed the name of Paul IV, The choice of a prelate of such a singular character, and who had long held a course extremely different from that which usually led to the dignity now conferred upon him, =>« Tbuan. p. 520. F. Paul, p. 3G5. Onuyh. Pauviii. pp. 321, &c. BOOK XI.] PAUL'S RISE AND CHARACTER. 389 filled the Italians, wlio had nearest access to observe liis manners and deportment, with astonishment, and kept them in suspense and solicitude with regard to his future conduct. Paul, though born in a rank of life which, without any other merit, might have secured to him the highest ecclesiastical preferments, had, from his early years, applied to study with all the assiduity of a man who had nothing but his personal attainments to render him conspi- cuous. By means of this, he not only acquired profound skill in scholastic theology, but added to that a consi- derable knowledge of the learned languages and of polite literature, the study of which had been lately revived in Italy, and was pursued at this time with great ardour. His mind, however, naturally gloomy and severe, Avas more formed to imbibe the sour spirit of the former, than to receive any tincture of elegance or liberality of sentiment from the latter; so that he acquired rather the qualities and passions of a recluse ecclesiastic, than the talents neces- sary for the conduct of great affairs. Accordingly, when he entered into orders, although several rich benefices were bestowed upon him, and he was early employed as a nuncio in different courts, he soon became disgusted with that course of life, and languished to be in a situation more suited to his taste and temper. With this view, he resigned at once all his ecclesiastical preferments, and having insti- tuted an order of regular priests, whom he denominated Theatines, from the name of the archbishopric which he had held, he associated himself as a member of their frater- nity, conformed to all the rigorous rules to which he had subjected them, and preferred the solitude of a monastic life, with the honour of being the founder of a new order, to all the great objects which the court of Rome presented to his ambition. In this retreat he remained for many years, until Paul III., induced by the fame of his sanctity and knowledge, called him to Rome, in order to consult with him concerning the 390 PAUL'S RISE AND CHARACTER. [book xi. measures wliicli might be most proper and effectual for suppressing heresy, and re-estabhshing the ancient autho- rity of the church. Having thus alhired him from his sohtude, the pope, partly by his entreaties, and partly by his authority, prevailed on him to accept of a cardinal's hat, to resume the benefices which he had resigned, and to return again into the usual path of ecclesiastical ambition which he seemed to have relinquished. But, during two successive pontificates, under the first of which the court of Rome was the most artful and interested, and under the second the most dissolute of any in Europe, Carafla retained his monastic austerity. He was an avowed and bitter enemy, not only of all innovation in opinion, but of every irregularity in practice ; he was the chief instrument in establishing the formidable and odious tribunal of the inquisition in the papal territories ; he appeared a violent advocate on all occasions for the jurisdiction and discipline of the church, and a severe censurer of every measure which seemed to flow from motives of policy or interest, rather than from zeal for the honoiu' of the ecclesiastical order, and the dignity of the holy see. Under a prelate of such a character, the Roman courtiers expected a severe and violent pontificate, during which the principles of sound policy would be sacrificed to the narrow prejudices of priestly zeal ; while the people of Rome were apprehensive of seeing the sordid and forbidding rigour of monastic manners substituted in place of the magnificence to which they had long been accustomed in the papal court. These apprehensions Paul was extremely solicitous to remove. At his first entrance u})on the administration, he laid aside that austerity Avhich had hitherto distingnished his })erson and family ; and when the master of his housc^hold inquired in what manner he would choose to live, he haughtily re])licd, "As becomes a great prince." He ordered the cercnu^ny of his coronation to be conducted with more than usual pomp ; and endeavoured to render himself BOOK XI.] AMBITIOUS SCHEMES OE IIIS NEPHEWS. 39] popular by several acts of liberality and indulgence towards the inhabitants of Rouie.'^'' His natural severity of temper, however, would have soon returned upon hitn, and would have justified the con- jectures of the courtiers, as well as the fears of the people, if he had not, immediately after his election, called to Rome two of his nephews, the sons of his brother, the count of Montorio. The eldest he promoted to be governor of Home : the youngest, who had hitherto served as u soldier of fortune in the armies of Spaui and France, and whose disposition as well as manners were still more foreign from the clerical character than his profession, he created a car- dinal, and appointed him legate of Bologna, the second office in power and dignity Avhich a pope can bestow. These marks of favour, no less sadden than extravagant, he accompanied with the most unbounded confidence and attachment ; and, forgetting all his former severe maxims, he seemed to have no other object than the aggrandizing of his nephews. Their ambition, unfortunately for Paul^ ■was too aspiring to be satisfied witli any moderate acqui- sition. They had seen the family of Medici raised by the interest of the popes of that house to supreme power in Tuscany ; Paul 111, had, by his abilities and address, secured the duchies of Parma and Piacentia to the family of Parnese. They aimed at some establishment for them- selves, no less considerable and independent ; and as they could not expect that the pope would carry his indulgence towards them so far as to secularize any part of the patri- mony of the church, they had no prospect of attaining what they w^ished, but by dismembering the imperial dominions in Italy, in hopes of seizing some portion of them. This alone they would have deemed a sufficient reason for sowing the seeds of discord between their uncle and the emperor. =9 Platina, p. 327. Castaldo, Vita di Paolo IV. Rom. 1615, p. 70. 392 PAUL'S NEPHEWS PEEYAIL ON IIIM [book xi. But Cardinal CarafFa had, besides, private reasons ■vvliich filled him with hatred and enmity to the emperor. While he served in the Spanish troops, he had not received such marks of honour and distinction as he thouo;ht due to his birth and merit. Disgusted Avitli this ill-usasre, he had abruptly quitted the imperial service, and entering into that of France, he had not only met with such a reception as soothed his vanity and attached him to the French interest, but by contracting an intimate friendship with Strozzi, who commanded the French army in Tuscany, he had imbibed a mortal antipatliy to the emperor as the great enemy to the liberty and independence of the Italian states. Nor was the pope himself indisposed to receive impressions unfavourable to the emperor. The opposition given to his election by the cardinals of the imperial faction left in his mind deep resentment, which was heightened by the remembrance of ancient injuries from Charles or his ministers. Of this his nephews took advantage, and employed various devices, in order to exasperate him beyond a possi- bility of reconciliation. They aggravated every circumstance which could be deemed any indication of the emperor's dissatisfaction with his ])romotion ; they read to him an intercepted letter, in which Charles taxed the cardinals of his party with negligence or incapacity in not having defeated Paul's election ; they pretended, at one time, to have discovered a conspiracy formed by the imperial min- ister and Cosmo de' Medici against the pope's life ; they alarmed him at another, with accounts of a plot for assas- sinating themselves. By these artifices they kept his mind, which was naturally violent, and become suspicious from old age, in such perpetual agitation, as precipitated him into mea- sures which otherwise he would have been the first person to condemn.'" lie seized some of the cardinals who were ■•'' RipamoiiUi Ilibt. I'atrisc, lib. iii. p. 11 IG, ap. Grrev. Tlics. vol. ii. Mun. dc Ribier, ii. p. G15. Adriani, Istor. i. n. 90G. BOOK XI.] TO SEEK TEE PllOTECTION OE FRxVNCE. 39-* most attached to tlie emperor, and confined tlicni in tlie castle of St. Ang-elo ; he persecuted tlie Colonnas, and other Roman barons, the ancient retainers to the imperial faction, with the utmost severity ; and, discovering on all occasions his distrust, fear, or hatred of the emperor, he began at last to court the friendship of the French king, and seemed willing to throw himself absolutely upon him for support and protection. This was the very point to which his nephews wished to bring him, as most favourable to their ambitious schemes ; and as the accomplishment of these depended on their uncle's life, whose advanced age did not admit of losing a moment unnecessarily in negotiations, instead of treating at second-hand with the French ambassador at Rome, they prevailed on the pope to despatch a person of confidence directly to the court of France, with such overtures on his part as they hoped would not be rejected. He proposed an alliance offensive and defensive between Henry and the pope ; that they should attack the duchy of Tuscany and the kingdom of Naples with their united forces ; and if their arms should prove successful, that the ancient repub- lican form of government should be re-established in the former, and the investiture of the latter should be granted to one of the French king's sons, after reserving a certain territory which should be annexed to the patrimony of the church, together with an independent and princely esta- blishment for each of the pope's nephews. The king, allured by these specious projects, gave a most favourable audience to the envoy. But when the matter was proposed in council, the Constable Montmorency, whose natural caution and aversion to daring enterprises increased with age and experience, remonstrated with great vehe- mence against the alliance. He put Henry in mind how fatal to France every expedition into Italy had been during three successive reigns ; and if such an enterprise had proved too great for the nation, even when its strength and 394 THE ALLIANCE WITH ROME DISCUSSED. [book xi- finances were entire, there was no reason to hope for success if it should be attempted now, when both were exhausted by extraordinary efforts during wars which had lasted, with little interruption, almost half a century. He represented the manifest imprudence of entering into engagements with a pope of fourscore, as any system which rested on no better foundation than his life must be extremely precarious ; and upon the event of his death, which could not be distant, the face of thino;s, together with the inclination of the Italian states, must instantly change, and the whole weight of the war be left upon the king alone. To these considera- tions he added the near prospect which they now had of a final accommodation with the emperor, who, having taken the resolution of retiring fro:ii the Avorld, wished to transmit his kingdoms in peace to his son ; and he concluded with representing the absolute certainty of drawing the arms of England upon France, if it should appear that the re-esta- blishment of tranquillity in Europe was prevented by the ambition of its monarch. These arguments, weighty in themselves, and urged by a minister of great authority, Avould probably have deter- mined the king to decline any connexion with the ])ope; but the duke of Guise, and his brother, the cardinal of Lorrain, who delighted no less in bold and dangerous undertakings than jMontmorency shunned them, declared warmly for an alliance with the pope. The cardinal ex- pected to be intrusted with the conduct of the negotiations in the court of Rome to which this alliance would give rise; the duke hoped to obtain the command of the army which would be appointed to invade Naples ; and, consi- dering tliemselves as already in these stations, vast projects opened to their aspiring and unbounded ambition. Their credit, together with the influence of the king's mistress, the famous Diana of Poitiers, who was at that time entirely devoted to the interest of the family of Guise, more than counterbalanced all Montmorency's prudent remonstrances. BOOK XI.] LORRAIN'S MISSION TO ROME. 395 and prevailed on an inconsiderate prince to listen to the overtures of the pope's envoy. The cardinal of Lorrain, as he had expected, was imme- diately sent to Rome with full powers to conclude the treaty, and to concert measures for carrying it into execu- tion. Before he could reach that city, the pope, either from reflecting on the danger and uncertain issue of all military operations, or through the address of the imperial ambassador, who had been at great pains to soothe him, had not only begun to lose much of the ardour with which he had commenced the negotiation with France, but even discovered great unwillingness to continue it. In order to rouse him from this fit of despondency, and to rekindle his former rage, his nephews had recourse to the arts which they had already practised with so much success. They alarmed him with new representations of the emperor's hostde intentions, with fresh accounts which they had received of threats uttered against him by the imperial ministers, and with new discoveries which they pretended to have made of conspiracies foruied, and just ready to take effect, against his life. But these artifices, having been formerly tried, would not have operated a second time with the same force, nor have made the impression which they wished, if Paul had not been excited by an offence of that kind which he was least able to bear. He received advice of the recess of the diet of Augs- burg, and of the toleration which was thereby granted to the protestants ; and this threw him at once into such transports of passion against the emperor and king of the Romans, as carried him headlong into all the violent measures of his nephews. Full of high ideas with respect to the papal prerogative, and animated with the fiercest zeal against heresy, he considered the liberty of deciding concerning religious matters, which had been assumed by an assembly composed chiefly of laymen, as a presumptuous and unpar- donable encroachment on that jurisdiction which belonged 396 PAUL'S EXCESSIVE ARUOGAKCE. [book xr. to him alone; and regarded the indulgence wliicli had been given to the protestants as an impious act of that power which the diet had usurped. He complained loudly of both to the imperial ambassador. He insisted that the recess of the diet should immediately be declared illegal and void. He threatened the emperor and king of the Romans, in case they should either refuse or delay to gratify him in this particular, with the severest effects of his ven- geance. He talked in a tone of authority and command which might have suited a pontiff of the twelfth century, when a papal decree was sufficient to have shaken or to have overturned, the throne of the greatest monarch in Europe ; but which was altogether improper in that age, especially when addressed to the minister of a prince who had so often made pontiffs more formidable than Paul feel the weight of his power. The ambassador, however, heard all his extravagant propositions and menaces with much patience, and endeavoured to soothe him by putting him in mind of the extreme distress to which the emperor had been reduced at Inspruck, of the engagements Avhich he had come under to the protestants, in order to extricate himself, of the necessity of fulfilling these, and of accom- modating his conduct to the situation of his affairs. But weighty as these considerations Avcrc, they made no im- pression on the mind of the haughty and bigoted pontiff, who instantly replied, that he would absolve him by his apostolic authority from those impious engagements, and even command him not to perform them ; that, in carrying on the cause of God and of the church, no rcrjard ouiilit to be had to the maxims of worldly prudence and policy ; and that the ill success of the cnii)eror's schemes in Germany might justly be deemed a mark of the divine displeasure against him, on account of his having paid little attention to the former, while he regulated his conduct entirely by the latter. Having said this, he turned from the ambassador abruptly, without waiting for a reply. BOOK XI.] CHARLES RESOLVES TO ABDICATE. 397 His nephews took care to applaud and clicrish these sentiments, and easily wrought up his arrogant mind, fraught with all tlie monkish ideas concerning the extent of the papal supremacy, to such a pitch of resentment against the house of Austria, and to such a high opinion of his own power, that he talked continually of his being the successor of those who had deposed kings and emperors ; that he was exalted as head over them all, and would trample such as opposed him under his feet. In this disposition the cardinal of Lorrain found the pope, and easily persuaded him to sign a treaty, which had for its object the ruin of a prince, against whom he was so highly exasperated. The stipulations in the treaty were much the same as had been proposed by the pope's envoy at Paris, and it was agreed to keep the whole transaction secret, until their united forces should be ready to take the field. "^ During the negotiation of this treaty at Rome and Paris, an event happened which seemed to render the fears that had given rise to it vain, and the operations which were to follow upon it imnecessary. This was the emperor's resignation of his hereditary dominions to his son Philip ; together with his resolution to withdraw entirely from any concern in business or the affairs of this world, in order that he might spend the remainder of his days in retirement and solitude. Though it requires neither deep reflection nor extraor- dinary discernment to discover that the state of royalty is not exempt from cares and disappointment ; though most of those who are exalted to a throne find solicitude, and satiety, and disgust, to be their perpetual attendants in that envied pre-eminence ; yet to descend voluntarily from the supreme to a subordinate station, and to relinquish the possession of power in order to attain the enjoyment of happiness, ^1 Rallav. lib. xiii. p. 103. F. Paul, p. 3G5. Tliuaii. lib. xv. p. 525, lib. xvi. p. 5:10. Mem. dc Ribier, ii. pp. 609, &c. 398 M0TI\T:S of CHARLES'S "RESIGNATION. [book xi. seems to be an effort too great for the human mind. Several instances, indeed, occur in history, of monarchs who have quitted a throne, and have ended their days in retirement. But they were either weak princes, who took this resohition rashly, and repented of it as soon as it was taken, or unfortunate princes, from whose hands some stronger rival had wrested their sceptre, and compelled them to descend with reluctance into a private station. Diocletian is, perhaps, the only prince capable of holding the reins of government who ever resigned them from deliberate choice, and who continued during many years to enjoy the tranquillity of retirement without fetching- one penitent sigh, or casting back one look of desire towards the power or dignity which he had abandoned. No wonder, then, that Charles's resignation should fill all Europe with astonishment, and give rise, both among his contemporaries and among the historians of that period, to various conjectures concerning the motives which deter- mined a prince whose ruling passion had been uniformly the love of power, at the age of fifty-six, when objects of ambition continue to operate with full force on the mind, and are pursued with the greatest ardour, to take a resolu- tion so singular and unexpected. But while many authors have imputed it to motives so frivolous and fantastical as can hardly be supposed to influence any reasonable mind ; while others have imagined it to be the result of some })ro- found scheme of policy ; historians more intelligent, and better informed, neither ascribe it to caprice, nor search for mysterious secrets of state, where simple and obvious causes will fully account for the enq)eror's conduct. Charles had been attacked early in life with the gout, and, notwith- standing all the precautions of the most skilful physicians, the violence of the distemper increased as he advanced in age, and the fits became every year more frequent, as well as more severe. Not only was the vigoiu* of his constitu- tion l)i-()kcii, l)ii( the faculties of his mind were impaiivdby BOOK XL] MOTIVES OF CIIATILES'S RESIGNATION. 399 the excruciating torments which he endured. During the continuance of the fits, he was altogether incapable of applying to business, and even when they began to abate, as it was only at intervals that he could attend to what was serious, he gave up a great part of his time to trifling and even childish occupations, which served to relieve or to amuse his mind, enfeebled and worn out with excess of pain. Under these circumstances, the conduct of such affairs as occurred of course in governing so many kingdoms, was a burden more than sufficient ; but to push forward and complete the vast schemes which the ambition of his more active years had formed, or to keep in view and carry on the same great system of policy, extending to every nation in Europe, and connected with the operations of every different court, were functions which so far exceeded his strength, that they oppressed and overwhelmed his mind. As he had been long accustomed to view the business in every department whether civil, or military, or ecclesiastical, with his own eyes, and to decide concerning it according to his own deas, it gave him the utmost pain when he felt his infir- mities increase so fast upon him, that he was obliged to commit the conduct of all affairs to his ministers. He imputed every misfortune which befell him, and every miscarriage that happened, even when the former was un- avoidable, or the latter accidental, to his inability to take the inspection of business himself. He complained of his hard fortune in being opposed, in his declining years, to a rival who w^as in the full vigour of life ; and that, while Henry could take and execute all his resolutions in person, he should now be reduced, both in council and in action, to rely on the talents and exertions of other men. Having thus grown old before his time, he wisely judged it more decent to conceal his infirmities in some solitude, than to expose them any longer to the public eye ; and prudently determined not to forfeit the fame, or lose the acquisitions of his better years, by struggling with a vain obstinacy to 400 CHAELES'S REASONS EOR DELAY IN RESIGNING, [book xi. retain the reins of government, when he was no longer able to hold them with steadiness or to guide them with address/' But though Charles had revolved this scheme in his mind for several years, and had communicated it to his sisters, the doAvager queens of France and Hungary, who not only approved of his intention, but offered to accom- pany him to whatever place of retreat he should clioose, several things had hitherto prevented his carrying it into execution. He could not think of loading his son with the government of so many kingdoms, until he should attain such maturity of age and of abilities as would enable him to sustain that weighty burden. But as Philip had now reached his tA^ enty-eighth year, and had been early accus- tomed to business, for which he discovered both inchnation and capacity, it can hardly be imputed to the partiality of paternal affection that his scruples with regard to this point were entirely removed ; and that he thought he might place his son, without further hesitation or delay, on the throne which he himself was about to abandon. His *- Dom Levesque, in his memoirs of Cardinal Graiivelio, gives a reason for tlic emperor's resignation, wliich, as far as I recollect, is not mentioned by anv other historian. lie says, tliat the emperor liaving ceded t he government of the kingdom of Naples and the ducliy of Mihm to liis son, upon his marriage with llie qnccn of England, Phihp, notwithstanding the advice and entreaties of his father, removed most of the ministers and officers whom lie had employed in tiiosc countries, and appointed creatures of liis own to 1111 the places wliich they held ; lliat he aspired openly, and with little delicacy, foohlain a share in the adniinislration of affairs in the Low Countries ; that lie endeavoured to thwart the cm- pcroi's measures, and to limit his authority, behaving towards him some- times with inattention, and sometimes ■with iianghtiness ; that Charles, find- ing that lie must either yield on every occasion to his son, or openly contend ■with him, in order to avoid either of these, which were both disagreeable and mortifying to a father, he took the resolution of resigning his crowns, and of retiring from the world, vol. i. ])p. 21, &c. Dom Levesque derived his inforniafion concerning these curious facts, which he relates very briefly, from the original jiapers of Cardinal Granvellc. lint as that vast coUectiou of papers, which has been preserved and arranged by M. I'Abbe Boizot of Besaufon, though one of the most valuable historical monuments of the sixteenth century, and which cannot fail of throwing much light on the transactions of Charles V., is not pub- lished, 1 cannot dctcrinine what degree of credit should be given to this ac- count of Charles's resignation. I iiave, therefore, taken no notice of it in relating this event. BOOK XI.] DEATH OF QUEEN JOANNA. 401 mother's situation had been anotJicr obstruction in his way : for although she liad continued ahnost fifty years in con- finement, and under the same disorder of mind which concern for her husband's death had brouglit upon her, yet the government of Spain was still vested in her jointly "with the euiperor ; her name was inserted together with liis in all the public instruments issued in that kingdom ; and such was the fond attachment of the Spaniards to her, that they would probably have scrupled to recognise Philip as their sovereign, unless she had consented to assume him as her partner on the throne. Her utter incapacity for business rendered it impossible to obtain her consent. But her death, which happened this year, removed this ditH- culty; and as Charles, upon that event, became sole monarch of Spain, it left the succession open to his son. The war with France had likewise been a reason for retaining the administration of affairs in his own hand, as he was ex- tremely solicitous to have terminated it, that he might have given up his kingdoms to his son at peace with all the world. But as Henry had discovered no disposition to close with any of his overtures, and had even rejected proposals of peace, wdiich were equal and moderate, in a tone that seemed to indicate a fixed purpose of continuing hostilities, he saw that it was vain to wait longer in expec- tation of an event which, however desirable, was altogether uncertain. As this, then, appeared to be the proper juncture for executing the scheme which he had long meditated, Charles resolved to resign his kingdoms to his son with a solemnity suitable to the importance of the transaction, and to perform this last act of sovereignty with such formal pomp as might leave a lasting impression on the minds, not only of his subjects, but of his successor. With this view he called Philip out of England, where the peevish temper of his queen, which increased with her despair of having issue, rendered him extremely unhappy ; and the jealousy of the VOL. II. D D 402 ABDICATION OF THE EMPEROR. [book xr. English left liim no hopes of obtaining the direction of their affairs. Having assembled the states of the Low Countries at Brussels, on the twenty-fifth of October, Charles seated himself, for the last time, in the chair of state, on one side of which was placed his son, and o)i the other his sister, the queen of Hungary, regent of the Netherlands, with a splendid retinue of the princes of the empire and grandees of Spain standing behind him. The president of the council of Flanders, by his command, explained, in a few words, his intention in calhng this extraordinary meeting of the states. He then read the instrument of resimiation, bv which Charles surrendered to his son Philip all his terri- tories, jurisdiction, and authority in the Low Countries, absolving his subjects there from the oath of allegiance to him, which he required them to transfer to Philip, his lawful heir, and to serve him witli the same loyalty and. zeal which they had manifested during so long a course of years, in support of his government. Charles then rose from his seat, and leaning on the shoulder of the prince of Orange, because he was unable to stand without support, he addressed himself to the audience, and from a paper which he held in his hand, in order to assist his memory, he recounted with dignity, but without ostentation, all the great things which he had undertaken and performed since the conmienccmcnt of his administra- tion. He observed that, from the seventeenth year of his age, he had dedicated all his thoughts and attention to public objects, reserving no portion of his time for the indulgence of his ease, and very little for the enjoyment of private pleasure ; that, either in a pacific or hostile manner, he had visited Germany nine times, Spain six times, Prance four times, Italy seven times, the Low Countries ten times, England twice, Africa as often, and had made eleven voyages by sea; that, while his health peiinitted him to discharge his duty, and the vigour of his constitution was equal, in any degree, to the arduous office of governing BOOK XI.] SPEECH OE CHARLES. 403 such extensive dominions, he had never shunned labour, nor repined under fatigue ; that now when his health was broken, and his vigour exhausted by the rage of an incurable distemper, his growing infirmities admonished him to retire : nor was he so fond of reigning as to retain the Bceptre in an impotent hand, which was no longer able to protect his subjects, or to secure to them the happiness which he wished they should enjoy; that instead of a sovereign worn out with diseases, and scarcely half alive, he gave them one in the prime of life, accustomed already to'govern, and who added to the vigour of youth all the attention and sagacity of maturer years ; that if, during the course of a long administration, he had committed any material error in government, or if, under the pressure of so many and great affairs, and amidst the attention which he had been obliged to give to them, he had either ne- glected or injured any of his subjects, he now implored their forgiveness ; that, for his part, he should ever retain a grateful sense of their fidelity and attachment, and would carry the remembrance of it along with him to the place of his retreat, as his sweetest consolation, as well as the best reward for all his services, and in his last prayers to Almighty God would pour forth his most earnest petitions for their welfare. Then turning towards Philip, who fell on his knees and kissed his father's hand, — " If," says he, " I had left you by my death this rich inheritance, to which I have made such large additions, some regard would have been justly due to my memory on that account ; but now, when I voluntarily resign to you what I might have still retained, I may well expect the warmest expressions of thanks on your part. With these, however, I dispense, and shall consider your concern for the welfare of your subjects, and your love of them, as the best and most acceptable testimony of your gratitude to me. It is in your power, by a wise and virtuous administra- tion, to justify the extraordinary proof which I this day give D D 2 404 PHILIP'S EEPLY. [book xr. of my paternal affection, and to demonstrate that you are worthy of the confidence wliicli I repose in you. Pre- serve an inviohable regard for rehgion ; maintain the cathoHc faith in its purity ; let the laws of your country be sacred in your eyes ; encroach not on the rights and privileges of your people ; and if the time should ever come when you shall wish to enjoy the tranquillity of private life, may you have a son endowed with such qualities that you can resign your sceptre to him, with as much satisfaction as I give up mine to you." As soon as Charles had finished this long address to his subjects and to their new sovereign, he sunk into the chair, exhausted and ready to faint with the fatigue of such an extraordinary effort. During his discourse, the whole audience melted into tears, some from admiration of his magnanimity, others softened by the expressions of tenderness towards his son, and of love to his people; and all were affected with the deepest sorrow at losing a sovereign Avho, during his administration, had distinguished the Netherlands, his native country, with particular marks of his regard and attachment. Philip then arose from his knees; and after returning thanks to liis father, with a low and submissive voice, for the royal gift which his unexampled bounty had bestowed upon him, he addressed the assembly of the states, and regretting his inability to speak the Flemish language with such facility as to express Avhat he felt on this interesting- occasion, as well as what he owed to his good subjects iu the Netherlands, he begged that they would permit Gran- velle, bishop of Arras, to deliver what he had given him in charge to speak in his name. Cranvclle, in a long discourse, expatiated on the zeal with which Philip was animated for the good of his subjects, on his resolution to devote all his time and talents to the promoting of their happiness, and on his intention to imitate his father's exanq)le in distinguishing the Nethcilands with peculiar marks of his regard. Maiis, a lawyer of great eloquence, replied, in the name of the BOOK XI.] CHARLES RESIGNS THE CROWN OF SPAIN. 405 states, with large professions of their fidelity and affection to their new sovereign. Tlien Mary, queen-dowager of Hungary, resigned the regency with whicli she had been entrusted by her brother during the space of twenty-tive years. Next day Pliilip, in presence of the states, took the usual oaths to maintain the rights and privileges of his subjects ; and all the members, in their own name, and in that of their constituents, swore allegiance to him.^^ [1556.] A few weeks after this transaction, Charles, in an assembly no less splendid, and with a ceremonial equally pompous, resigned to his son the crowns of Spain, with all the territories depending on them, both in the old and in the new world. Of all these vast possessions, he reserved nothing for himself but an annual pension of a hundred thousand crowns, to defray the charges of his family, and to afford him a small sum for acts of beneficence and charity.^* ■'^ Godleveus, Relatio Abdicatiouis Car. V. ap. Goldast. Polif. Iiuper. p. o77. Slnida de Bello Beluico, lib. i. " The emperor's resignation is an event not only of such imijortance, but of such a nature, that the precise date of it, one would expect, should have been ascertained by historians with the greatest accuracy. There is, how- ever, an amazing and unaccountable diversity among them with regard to this point. All agree tiiat the deed by which Charles transferred to iiis sou his dominions in the Netherlands, bears date at Brussels the 25tli of October. Sandoval Oxes on the 2Slh of October, as the day on whicli the ceremony of resignation happened, and be was present at the transact ion, vol. ii. p. 592. Godleveus, who publisiied a treatise de Abdicatione Caroli V., fixes tlie public ceremony, as well as the date of the instrument of resigna- tion, on the 25th. I'ere Barrc, I know not on wiiat authority, fixes it on lhe2'lih of November. Hisf.d'Alem. viii. p. 976. Herrera agrees with God- leveus in his account of this matter, torn. i. p. 155 ; as likewise does Palla- vicini, whose authority witli respect to dates, and everything where a nnnute accuracy is reiiuisite,is of great weight. Hist. lib. xvi. p. 168. Historians differ no less with regard to the day on whicli Charles resigned the crown of Spain to his son. According to M. de Thou, it was a month after his having resigned his dominions in tlie Netherlands, i.e. about the 25lh of November. Thucni. lib. xvi. p. 571. iVceording to Sandoval, it was on the 16ih of January, 1556. Sand. ii. p. 603. Autonia de Vera agrees with him. Epitome de la Vida de Car. V. p. 110. According to Pallavicini, it was on the 17th, Fal. lib. xvi. p. 168, and with him Herrera agrees, Vida de D. Filipo, tom. i. p. 233. But Ferreras fixes it on the hrst day of January, Ilisf. Gciier. torn. ix. p. 371. M. de Beaucaire supposes the resignation of the crown of Spain to have been exe- cuted a few days after the resignation of the Netherlands. Cu»i delieb. Gall. p. S79. It is remarkable that in the treaty of truce at Vaucellcs, though Ciiarles iiad made over all his domi- 406 NEGOTIATIONS FOR PEACE. jbook xi As he had fixed on a place of retreat in Spain, hoping that the dryness and the warmth of the chniate in that country might mitigate the violence of his disease, which had been much increased by the moisture of the air and the rigour of the winters in the Netherlands, he was extremely impatient to embark for that kingdom, and to disengage himself entirely from business, which he found to be impos- sible while he remained in Brussels. But his physicians remonstrated so strongly against his venturing to sea at that cold and boisterous season of the year, that he con- sented, though with reluctance, to put off his voyage for some months. By yielding to their entreaties, he had the satisfaction, before he left the Low Countries, of taking a considerable step towards a peace with France, which he ardently wished for, not only on his son's account, but Ihat he might have the merit, when quitting the world, of re-establishing that tranquillity in Europe which he had banished out of it almost from the time that he assumed the administration of afiairs. Previous to his resignation, commissioners had been appointed by him and by the French king, in order to treat of an exchange of prisoners. In their conferences at the abbey of Yaucelles, near Cambray, an expedient was acci- dentally proposed for terminating hostilities between the contending rnonarchs, by a long truce, during the subsistence of which, and without discussing their respective claims, each should retain what was now in his possession. Charles, sensible how much his kingdoms were exhausted by the expensive and almost continual wars in which his ambition had engaged him, and eager to gain for his son a short nions to liis son some weeks previous clinose, it should seem, to assume llic to tlic conclusion of it, all llio stipula- lilic of king of any of liis Spanish lions arc in the emperor's name, and kingdoms, or to jjerfonn any act of Philip is only styled king of Kngland royal jurisdiction. In a deed ainiexed and Naples. It is certain Pliilip was to the treaty of truce, dated April 19, not ])rrstiti()n, he, in memory of the battle of St. Qucntin, which had been fought on the day consecrated to St. Laurence, vowed to build a church, a monastery, and a j)alac(;, in lionour of that '=» M^m. dc Ribier, ii. pp. 701, 703. BOOK xri.] THE FRENCH ARMY IN ITALY RECALLED. 435 saint and martyr. Before the expiration of the year, he laid tlie foundation of an edifice, in which all these were united, at the Escurial, in the neighbourhood of Madrid; and the same principle which dictated the vow, directed the building. For the plan of the work was so formed as to resemble a gridiron, which, according to the legendary tale, had been the instrument of St. Laurence's martyrdom. Notwithstanding the great and expensive schemes in which his restless ambition involved him, Philip continued the building with such perseverance for twenty-two years, and reserved such lars-e sums for this monument of his devo- tion and vanity, that the monarchs of Spain are indebted to him for a royal residence, which, though not the most elegant, is certainly the most sumptuous and magnificent of any in Europe.'^ The first account of that fatal blow which the French had received at St. Quentin was carried to Eome by the courier whom Henry had sent to recal the duke of Guise. As Paul, even with the assistance of his French auxiliaries, had hardly been able to check the progress of the Spanish arms, he foresaw that, as soon as he was deprived of their protection, his territories must be overrun in a moment. He remonstrated, therefore, with the greatest violence against the departure of the French army, reproaching the duke of Guise for his ill conduct, which had brought him into such an unhappy situation ; and complaining of the king for deserting him so ungenerously under such circum- stances. The duke of Guise's orders, however, were per- emptory. Paul, inflexible as he was, found it necessary to accommodate his conduct to the exigency of his affairs, and to employ the mediation of the Venetians, and of Cosmo de' Medici, in order to obtain peace. Philip, who had been forced unwilhngly to a rupture with the pope, and who, even while success crowned his arms, doubted so much the jus- tice of his own cause, that he had made frequent overtures " Colmenar, Anuales d'Espagne, torn. ii. p. 136. F F 2 436 PEACE BETWEEN THE POPE AND PHILIP, [book xii. of pacification, listened eagerly to the first proposals of this nature from Paul, and discovered sucli moderation in his demands, as could hardly have been expected from a prince elated with victory. The duke of Alva on the part of PhiHp, and the Cardinal CarafFa in the name of his uncle, met at Cavi, and both being equally disposed to peace, they, after a short confer- ence, terminated the war by a treaty on the following terms : That Paul should renounce his league wdth Prance, and maintain for the future such a neutrality as became the common father of Christendom; that Philip should instantly restore all the towns of the ecclesiastical territory of which he had taken possession ; that the claims of the Caraffas to the duchy of Paliano, and other demesnes of the Colon- nas, should be referred to the decision of the republic of Venice ; that the duke of Alva should repair in person to Rome, and after asking pardon of Paul in his own name, and in that of his master, for having invaded the patrimony of the church, should receive the pope's absolution from that crime. Thus Paul, through Philip's scrupulous ti- midity, finished an unprosperous war without any detriment to the papal see. The conqueror appeared humble, and acknowledged his error ; while he who had been vanquished retained his usual haughtiness, and was treated with every mark of superiority." The duke of Alva, in terms of the treaty, repaired to Rome, and, in the posture of a supplicant, kissed the feet, and implored the forgiveness of that very person whom his arms had reduced to the last extremity. Such was the superstitious veneration of the Spaniards for the papal character, that Alva, though, perhaps, the proudest man of the age, and accustomed from his infancy to a fami- liar intercourse with princes, acknowledged that, when he approached the pope, he was so much overawed, that his voice failed, and his presence of mind forsook him.'^ " Pallav. lib. xiii. p. 183. V. Paul, p. 380. Ilorrcra, vol. i. p. 310. " Paliav. lib. xiii. p. 185. Sumiiionte, Istoria di Napoli, iv. 28G. BOOK xn.] COSMO BE' MEDICI INTRIGUES FOR SIENA. 437 But though this war, which at its commencement threat- ened mighty revolutions, was brought to an end without occasioning any alteration in those states which were its im- mediate object, it had produced during its progress effects of considerable consequence in other parts of Italy. As Philip was extremely solicitous to terminate his quarrel with Paul as speedily as possible, he was willing to make any sacrifice in order to gain those princes who, by joining their troops to the papal and French army, might have prolonged the war. With this view, he entered into a negotiation with Octavio Farnese, duke of Parma, and, in order to seduce him from his alliance with France, he restored to him the city of Placentia, with the territory depending on it, which Charles V. had seized in the year one thousand five hundred and forty-seven, had kept from that time in his possession, and had transmitted, together with his other dominions, to Philip. This step made such a discovery of Philip's character and views to Cosmo de' Medici, the most sagacious as well as provident of all the Italian princes, that he conceived hopes of accomplishing his favourite scheme of adding Siena and its territories to his dominions in Tuscany. As his success in this attempt depended entirely on the deli- cacy of address with which it should be conducted, he employed all the refinements of policy in the negotiation which he set on foot for this purpose. He began with soliciting Philip, whose treasury he knew to be entirely drained by the expense of the war, to repay the great sums which he had advanced to the emperor during the siege of Siena. When Philip endeavoured to elude a demand which he was unable to satisfy, Cosmo affected to be extremely disquieted, and making no secret of his disgust, instructed his ambassador at Rome to open a negotiation with the pope, which seemed to be the effect of it. The ambassador executed his commission with such dexterity, that Paul, imagining Cosmo to be entirely alienated from 438 COSMO DE' ]\IEDICI OBTAINS [book xii. the Spanish interest, proposed to him an aUiance with France, which should be cemented by the marriage of his eldest son to one of Henry's daughters. Cosmo received the overtiu'e with such apparent satisfaction, and with so many professions of gratitude for the high honour of which he had the prospect, that not only the pope's ministers, but the French envoy at Rome, talked confidently, and with little reserve, of the accession of that important ally as a matter certain and decided. The account of this was quickly carried to Philip ; and Cosmo, who foresaw how much it would alarm him, had despatched his nephew, Ludovico di Toledo, into the Netherlands, that he might be at hand to observe and take advantage of his consternation, before the first impression which it made should in any degree abate. Cosmo was extremely fortunate in the choice of the instrument whom he employed. Toledo waited with patience until he discovered with certainty that Philip had received such intelligence of his uncle's negotiations at Rome as must have filled his suspicious mind with fear and jealousy ; and then craving an audience, he required payment of the money which had been borrowed by the emperor, in the most earnest and peremptory terms. In urging that point, he artfully threw out several dark hints and ambiguous declarations, concerning the extremities to which Cosmo miglit be driven by a refusal of this just demand, as well as by other grievances of which he had good reason to complain. PliiUp, astonished at an address in such a strain, from a prince so far his inferior as the duke of Tuscany, and comparing what he now heard with the information which he had received from Italy, innnediately concluded that Cosmo had ventured to assume this bold and unusual tone on the prospect of his union with France. In order to prevent the pope and Henry from acquiring an ally, who, by his abilities, as well as the situation of his dominions, would have added both reputation and strength to their BOOK xu.] POSSESSION OF SIENA. 439 confederacy, he offered to grant Cosmo the investiture of Siena, if he would consent to accept of it as an equivalent for the sums due to him, and engage to furnish a body of troops towards the defence of Pliilip's territories in Italy, against any power who should attack them. As soon as Cosmo had brought Philip to make this concession, which was the object of all his artifices and intrigues, he did not protract the negotiation by an lumecessary delay, or any excess of refinement, but closed eagerly with the proposal ; and Philip, in spite of the remonstrances of his ablest coun- sellors, signed a treaty with him to that effect.''' As no prince was ever more tenacious of his rights than Philip, or less willing to relinquish any territory which he possessed, by what tenure soever he held it, these unusual concessions to the dukes of Parma and Tuscany, by which he wantonly gave up countries, in acquiring or defending which his father had employed many years, and wasted much blood and treasiu-e, cannot be accounted for from any motive but his superstitious desire of extricating himself out of the war Avhicli he had been forced to wage against the pope. By these treaties, however, the balance of power among the Italian states was poised with greater equality, and rendered less variable, than it had been since it received the first violent shock from the invasion of Charles VIII. of France. Prom this period Italy ceased to be the great theatre on which the monarchs of Spain, France, and Ger- many contended for power or for fame. Their dissensions and hostilities, though as frequent and violent as ever, being excited by new objects, stained other regions of Europe with blood, and rendered them miserable in their turn, by the devastations of war. The duke of Guise left Rome on the same day that his adversary, the duke of Alva made his humiliating submis- sion to the pope. He Avas received in France as the '^ Tliuan. lib. xviii. p. G2i. Eerrera, i. pp. 2G3, 275. Pallav. lib. xiii. p. ISO. 440 THE FRENCH ARMY, UKDER GUISE, [book xii. guardian angel of the kingdom. His late ill success in Italy seemed to be forgotten, Avbile his former services, particu- larly his defence of Metz, were recounted with exaggerated praise ; and he was welcomed in every city through which he passed as the restorer of public security, who, after having set bounds by his conduct and valour to the victo- rious arms of Charles V., returned now, at the call of his country, to check the formidable progress of Philip's power. The reception which he met with from Henry was no less cordial and honourable. New titles were invented, and ncAv dignities created, in order to distinguish him. He was appointed lieutenant-general in chief, both within and without the kingdom, with a jurisdiction almost unlimited, and hardly inferior to that which was possessed by the king himself. Thus, through the singular felicity which attended the princes of Lorrain, the miscarriage of their own schemes contributed to aggrandize them. The calamities of his country, and the ill conduct of his rival, the constable, exalted the duke of Guise to a height of dignity and power, which he could not have expected to attain by the most fortunate and most complete success of his own ambitious projects. The duke of Guise, eager to perform something suitable to the high expectations of his countrymen, and that he might justify the extraordinary confidence which the king had reposed in him, ordered all the troops which could be got together, to assemble at Compiegnc. Though the winter was well advanced, and had set in with extreme severity, he placed himself at their head and took the field. By Henry's activity, and the zeal of his subjects, so many soldiers had been raised in the kingdom, and such con- siderable reinforcements had been drawn from Germany and Switzerland, as formed an army respectable even in the eyes of a victorious enemy. Philip, alarmed at seeing it put in motion at such an unconunon season, began to tremble for his new concjuests, particularly St. Qucntin, BOOK XII.] INVESTS CALAIS. 441 the fortifications of wliicli were hitherto but imperfectly repaired. [1558.] But the duke of Guise meditated a more im- portant enterprise ; and, after amusing the enemy with threatening successively different towns on the frontiers of Flanders, he turned suddenly to the left, and invested Calais with his Avhole army. Calais had been taken by the English under Edward III., and was the fruit of that monarch's glorious victory at Crecy. Being the only place that they retained of their ancient and extensive territories in France, and which opened to them, at all times, an easy and secure passage into the heart of that kingdom, their keeping possession of it soothed the pride of the one nation as much as it mortified the vanity of the other. Its situa- tion was naturally so strong, and its fortifications deemed so impregnable, that no monarch of France, however adven- turous soever, had been bold enough to attack it. Even when the domestic strength of England was broken and exhausted by the bloody wars between the houses of York and Lancaster, and its attention entirely diverted from foreign objects, Calais had remained undisturbed and unthreatened. Mary and her council, composed chiefly of ecclesiastics, unacquainted with military affairs, and wdiose whole attention was turned towards extirpating heresy out of the kingdom, had not only neglected to take any pre- cautions for the safety of this important place, but seemed to think that the reputation of its strength was alone suffi- cient for its security. Full of this opinion, they ventured, even after the declaration of war, to continue a practice which the low state of the queen's finances had introduced in times of peace. As the country adjacent to Calais was overflowed during the winter, and the marshes around it became impassable, except by one avenue, which the forts of St. Agatha and Newnham-bridge commanded, it had been the custom of the English to dismiss the greater part of the garrison towards the end of autumn, and to replace 442 THE DEFENCELESS STATE OF CALAIS. [book xii. it ill tlie spring. In vain did Lord Wentwortli, the governor of Calais, remonstrate against this ill-timed par- simony, and represent the possibility of his being attacked suddenly, while he. had not troops sufficient to man the works. The privy-council treated these remonstrances with scorn, as if they had flowed from the timidity or the rapa- ciousness of the governor; and some of them, with that confidence which is the companion of ignorance, boasted that they would defend Calais with their white rods against an)'" enemy who should approach it during winter.'^ In vain did Philip, who 4iad passed throngh Calais as he returned from England to the Netherlands, warn the queen of the danger to which it was exposed ; and, acquainting her with what was necessary for its security, in vain did he offer to reinforce the garrison during winter with a detachment of his own troops. Mary's counsellors, though obsequious to her in all points wherein religion was con- cerned, distrusted, as much as the rest of their countrymen, every proposition that came from her husband ; and sus- pecting this to be an artifice of Philip's, in order to gain the command of the town, they neglected his intelligence, declined his offer, and left Cahiis with less than a fourth part of the garrison requisite for its defence. His knowledge of tliis encouraged the duke of Guise to venture on an enterprise, that surprised his own country- men no less than his enemies. As he knew that its success depended on conducting his operations with such rapidity as would aftbrd the EngHsli no time for throwing relief into the town by sea, and prevent Philip from giving him any interruption by land, he pushed the attack with a degree of vigour little known in carrying on sieges during that age. He drove the English from fort St. Agatha at the first assault. He obliged them to abandon the fort of Kewnham-bridge, after defending it only three days. He '^ Carte, iii. p. 315. BOOK XII.] IT IS TAKEN, WITH GUISNES AND HAMES. 443 took the castle which commanded the harbour by storm ; and, on the eighth day after he appeared before Calais, compelled the governor to surrender, as his feeble garrison^ which did not exceed five hundred men, was Avorn out with the fatigue of sustaining so many attacks, and defending such extensive works. The duke of Guise, without allowing the English time to recover from the consternation occasioned by this blow, immediately invested Guisnes, the garrison of which, though more numerous, defended itself with less vigour, and, after standing one brisk assault, gave up the town. The castle of Hames was abandoned by the troops posted there, without waiting the approach of the enemy. Thus, in a few days, during the depth of winter, and at a time when the fatal battle of St. Quentin had so depressed the sanguine spirit of the French, that their utmost aim was to protect then* own country, without dreaming of making conquests on the enemy, the enterprising valour of one man drove the English out of Calais, after they had held it two hundred and ten years, and deprived them of every foot of land in a kingdom where their dominions had been once very extensive. This exploit, at the same time that it gave a high idea of the power and resources of Erance to all Europe, set the duke of Guise, in the opinion of his countrymen, far above all the generals of the age. They celebrated his conquests with immoderate transports of joy; while the English gave vent to all the passions which animate a high-spirited people, when any great national calamity is manifestly oAving to the ill-conduct of their rulers. Mary and her ministers, formerly odious, w^re now contemptible in their eyes. All the terrors of her severe and arbitrary administration could not restrain them from utterino; execrations and tlu'eats ao-ainst those wdio, having wantonly involved the nation in a quarrel wherein it was nowise interested, had, by their negligence or incapacity, brought uTeparable disgrace on their country, 444 CHARLES RESIGNS THE BIPERIAL CROWN, [book xii. and lost tlie most valuable possession belonging to the English crown. The king of France imitated the conduct of its former conqueror, Edward III., with regard to Calais. He com- manded all the English inhabitants to quit the town, and giving their houses to his own subjects, whom he allured to settle there by granting them various immunities, he left a numerous garrison, under an experienced governor, for their defence. After this, his victorious army was con- ducted into quarters of refreshment, and the usual inaction of winter returned. During these various operations, Ferdinand assembled the college of electors at Francfort, in order to lay before them the instrument wdiereby Charles V. had resigned the imperial crown, and transferred it to him. This he had hitherto delayed on account of some difficulties which had occurred concerning the formalities requisite in supplying a vacancy occasioned by an event, to which there is no parallel in the annals of the empii-e. These being at length adjusted, the prince of Orange executed the commission with which he had been intrusted by Charles : the electors accepted of his resignation ; declared Ferdinand his lawful successor ; and put him in possession of all the ensigns of the imperial dignity. But when the new emperor sent Gusman, his chancellor, to acquaint the pope with this transaction, to testify his reverence towards the holy see, and to signify that, accord- ing to form, he would soon despatch an ambassador extra- ordinary to treat with his holiness concerning his coronation; Paul, whom neither experience nor disappointments could teach to bring down his lofty ideas of the papal prerogative to such a moderate standard as suited the genius of the times, refused to admit the envoy into his presence, and declared all the proceedings at Francfort irregular and invalid. He contended that the pope, as the vicegerent of Christ, was intrusted witli the keys both of sj)iritual and of civil government ; that from him the imperial jurisdiction BOOK XII.] THE POPE DISPUTES EERDINAND'S ELECTION. 445 was derived ; that though his predecessors had authorized the electors to choose an emperor whom the holy see con- firmed, this privilege was confined to those cases when a vacancy was occasioned by death ; that the instrument of Charles's resignation had been presented in an improper court, as it belonged to the pope alone to reject or to accept of it, and to nominate a person to fill the imperial throne ; that, setting aside all these objections, Ferdinand's election laboured under two defects, which alone were suf- ficient to render it void, for the protestant electors had been admitted to vote, though, by their apostasy from the catholic faith, they had forfeited that and every other privi- lege of the electoral office ; and Ferdinand, by ratifying the concessions of several diets in favour of heretics, had ren- dered himself unworthy of the imperial dignity, which was instituted for the protection, not for the destruction, of the church. But after thundering out these extravagant maxims, he added, with an appearance of condescension, that if Ferdinand would renounce all title to the imperial crown, founded on the election at Francfort, make profes- sions of repentance for his past conduct, and supplicate him, with due humility, to confirm Charles's resignation, as well as his own assumption to the empire, he might expect every mark of favour from his paternal clemency and goodness. Gusman, though he had foreseen consider- able difficulties in his negotiation with the pope, little expected that he would have revived those antiquated and wild pretensions, which astonished him so much, that he hardly knew in what tone he ought to reply. He prudently declined entering into any controversy concerning the nature or extent of the papal jurisdiction, and confining himself to the political considerations, which should determine the pope to recognise an emperor already in possession, he endeavoured to place them in such a light as he imagined could scarcely fail to strike Paul, if he were not altogether blind to his own interest. Philip seconded Gusman's argu- 446 THE SCOTS REPUDIATE WAR WITH ENGLAND, [book xii. ments with great earnestness, by an ambassador whom he sent to Rome on purpose, and besought the pope to desist from claims so unseasonable, as might not only ii'ritate and alarm Ferdinand and the princes of the empire, but furnish the enemies of the holy see with a new reason for repre- senting its jurisdiction as incompatible with the rights of princes, and subversive of all civil authority. But Paul, who deemed it a crime to attend to any consideration suggested by human prudence or policy, when he thought himself called upon to assert the prerogatives of the papal see, remained inflexible ; and during his pontificate, Ferdinand was not acknowledged as emperor by the court of Rome.'^ While Henry was intent upon his preparations for the approaching campaign, he received accounts of the issue of his negotiations in Scotland. Long experience having at last taught the Scots the imprudence of involving their country in every quarrel between France and England, neither the solicitations of the French ambassador, nor the address and authority of the queen regent, could prevail on them to take arms against a kingdom with which they were at peace. On this occasion, the ardour of a martial nobility and of a turbulent people was restrained by regard for the pubHc interest and tranquillity, which, in former deliberations of this kind, had been seklom attended to by a nation always prone to rush into every new war. But though the Scots adhered with steadiness to their pacific system, they were extremely ready to gratify the French king in another particular, which he had given in charge to his ambassador. The young queen of Scots had been afiianced to the daupliin, in the year one thousaiul five hundred and forty- eislit, and havins: been educated since that time in the court of France, she had grown up to be the most amiable, and one of tlie most acconq)H.shc'd princesses of that age. " Gndlcvcusdc Abdicaj. Car. V. an. xill. p. ISO. Mem. dc llihicr, ii. pp. Gold. Polit. Impcr. p. 3'J2. Tullav. lib. 710, 75J>. BOOK XII.] MARRIAGE OF DAUPHIN AND QUEEN OF SCOTS. 447 Henry demanded the consent of her subjects to the cele- bration of the marriage ; and a parharaent, wliich was held for that purpose, appointed eight commissioners to repre- sent the whole body of the nation at that solemnity, with power to sign such deeds as might be reipiisite before it was concluded. In settling the articles of the marriage, the Scots took every precaution that prudence could dictate, in order to preserve the liberty and independence of their country; while the French used every art to secure to the dauphin the conduct of affairs during the queen's life, and the succession of the crown on the event of her demise. The marriage was celebrated with pomp suitable to the dignity of the parties, and the magnificence of a court at that time the most splendid in Europe.'^ Thus Henry, in the course of a few months, had the glory of recovering an important possession which had anciently belonged to the crown of France, and of adding to it the acquisition of a new kingdom. By this event, too, the duke of Guise acquired new consideration and importance ; the marriage of his niece to the apparent heir of the crown, raising him so far above the condition of other subjects, that the credit which he had gained by his great actions seemed thereby to be rendered no less permanent than it was extensive. When the campaign opened, soon after the dauphin's marriage, the duke of Guise was placed at the head of the army, with the same unlimited powers as formerly. Henry had received such liberal supplies from his subjects, that the troops under his command were both numerous and well appointed ; while Philip, exhausted by the extraordi- nary efforts of the preceding year, had been obliged to dismiss so many of his forces during the winter, that he could not bring an army into the field capable of making head against the enemy. The duke of Guise did not lose the favourable opportunity which his superiority afforded " Keith's ITistorv of Scotland, p. 73. Append. 13. Corps Diplom, v. 21. 448 DEFEAT OE THE ERENCH AT GEAVELINES. [book xii. him. He invested Thionville in the duchy of Luxembourg, one of the strons-est towns on the frontiers of the Nether- lands, and of great importance to France by its neighbour- hood to Metz ; and, notwithstanding the obstinate valour with which it was defended, he forced it to capitulate after a siege of three wrecks. ^^ But the success of this enterprise, which it was expected would lead to other conquests, was more than counter- balanced by an event which happened in another part of the Low Countries. The Marechal de Termes, governor of Calais, having penetrated into Flanders without opposi- tion, invested Dunkirk with an army of fourteen thousand men, and took it by storm on the fifth day of the siege. Hence he advanced towards Nieuport, wdiich must have soon fallen into his hands, if the approach of the count of Egmont with a superior army had not made it prudent to retreat. The French troops were so much encumbered with the booty wdiich they had got at Dunkirk, or by ravaging the open country, that they moved slowly ; and Egmont, who had left his heavy baggage and artillery behind him, marched w^itli such rapidity tliat he came up with them near Gravelines, and attacked them with the utmost impetuosity, De Termes, who had the choice of the ground, liaving posted his troops to advantage in the angle formed by the mouth of the river Aa and the sea, received him with great firmness. Victory remained for some time in suspense, the desperate valour of the French, who foresaw the unavoidable destruction that must follow u})on a rout in an enemy's country, countcrl)aUincing the superior number of the Flemings, when one of those acci- dents to which human prudence docs not extend, decided the contest in favour of the latter. A squadron of English ships of war, which was cruizing on the coast, being drawn by the noise of the firing towards the place of tlie engage- ment, entered the river Aa, and tui'ued its great guns *' Tlman. lib. xx. G90. BOOK xii.] HENRY AND PHILIP TAKE THE EIELD. 449 against the right wing of the French, Avith such effect as immediately broke tliat body, and spread terror and con- fusion through the whole army. The Flemings, to whom assistance, so unexpected and so seasonable, gave fresh spirit, redoubled their efforts, that they might not lose the advantage which fortune had presented thcni, or give the enemy time to recover from their consternation, and the rout of the French soon became universal. Near two thousand were killed on the spot ; a greater number fell by the hands of the peasants, who, in revenge for the cruelty with which their country had been plundered, pur- sued the fugitives, and massacred them without mercy ; the rest were taken prisoners, together with De Termes, their general, and many oihcers of distinction.^' This signal victory, for which the count of Egmont was afterwards so ill requited by Philip, obliged the duke of Guise to relinquish all other schemes, and to hasten towards the frontiers of Picardy, that he might oppose the progress of the enemy in that province. This disaster, however, reflected new lustre on his reputation, and once more turned the eyes of his countrymen towards him, as the only general on whose arms victory ahvays attended, and in whose con- duct, as well as good fortune, they could confide in every danger. Henry reinforced the duke of Guise's army with so many troops drawn from the adjacent garrisons, that it soon amounted to forty thousand men. That of the enemy, after the junction of Egmont with the duke of Savoy, m as not inferior in number. They encamped at the distance of a few leagues from one another ; and each monarch having joined his respective army, it was expected, after the vicis- situdes of good and bad success during this and the former campaign, that a decisive battle would at last determine which of the rivals should take the ascendant for the future, and give law to Europe. But, though both had it in their power, neither of them discovered any inclination to bring ^' Thuan. lib. xx. p. G04. VOL. II. G G 450 ALL PARTIES DESIEOrS OF PEACE. [book xii. the determination of such an important point to depend upon the uncertain issue of a single battle. The fatal engagements at St. Quentin and Gravelines were too recent to be so soon forgotten ; and the prospect of encountering the same troops, commanded by the same generals \vho had twice triumphed over his arms, inspired Henry with a degree of caution which was not common to him. Philip, of a genius averse to bold operations in war, naturally leaned to cautious measures, and was not disposed to hazard any- thing against a general so fortunate and successful as the duke of Guise. Both monarchs, as if by agreement, stood on the defensive, and, fortifying their camps carefidly, avoided every skkmish or rencounter that might bring on a general engagement. While the armies continued in this inaction, peace began to be mentioned in each camp, and both Henry and Philip discovered an inclination to listen to any overture that tended to re-establish it. The kingdoms of France and Spain had been engaged during half a century in almost continual wars, carried on at a great expense, and produc- tive of no considerable advantage to either. Exhausted by extraordinary and unceasing efforts, which far exceeded those to which the nations of Europe had been accustomed before the rivalship between Charles V. and Francis I., both nations longed so much for an interval of repose, in order to recruit their strength, that their sovereigns drew from them with difficulty the supplies necessary for carrying on hostilities. The private inclinations of both the kings con- curred with those of their people. Philip was prompted to Avish for peace by his fond desire of returning to Spain. Accustomed from his infancy to the climate and manners of that country, he was attached to it with such extreme pre- dilection, that he never felt himself at ease in any otiierpart of his dominions. Ikit as he could not (piit the Low Countries, either with decency or safety, and venture on a voyage to Spain, during the continuance of war, the pros- BOOK XII.] A FAVOURABLE INTRIGUE. 451 pect of a pacification, which would put it in his power to execute his favourite sclienie, was higlily acceptable. Henry was uo less desirous of being delivered from the burden and occupations of war, that he might have leisure to turn his attention, and bend the whole force of his government, towards suppressing the opinions of the reformers, which were spreading with such rapidity in Paris, and other great towns of France, that they began to grow formidable to the established church. Besides these public and avowed considerations arising from the state of the two hostile kingdoms, or from the wishes of their respective monarchs, there was a secret intrigue carried on in the court of France, Avhich contributed as much as either of the other to hasten and to facilitate the negotiation of a peace. The constable Montmorency, during his captivity, beheld the rapid success and growing favour of the duke of Guise with the envy natural to a rival. Every advantage gained by the princes of Lorrain he con- sidered as a fresh wound to his own reputation, and he knew with what malevolent address it would be improved to diminish his credit with the king, and to augment that of the duke of Guise. These arts, he w^as afraid, might, by degrees, work on the easy and ductile mind of Henry, so as to efface all remains of his ancient affection towards him- self. But he could not discover any remedy for this, unless he were allowed to return home, that he might try whether by his presence he could defeat the artifices of his enemies, and revive those warm and tender sentiments which had long attached Henry to him, with a confidence so entire, as resembled rather the cordiality of private friendship than the cold and selfish connexion between a monarch and one of his courtiers. While Montmorency was forming schemes and wishes for his return to France, with much anxiety of mind, but with little hope of success, an unexpected incident prepared the way for it. The cardinal of Lorrain, who had shared with his brother in the king's favour, and partici- G G 2 452 THE CONSTABLE MONT^IORENCY. [book xit. pated of the power which that conferred, did not bear prosperity with the same discretion as the duke of Guise. Intoxicated with their good fortune, he forgot how much they had been indebted for their present elevation to their connexions with the duchess of Valentinois, and vainly ascribed all to the extraordinary merit of their family. This led him not only to neglect his benefactress, but to thwart her schemes, and to talk with a sarcastic liberty of her character and person. That singular woman, who, if we may believe contemporary writers, retained the beauty and charms of youth at the age of threescore, and on whom it is certain that Henry still doted with all the fondness of love, felt this injury with sensibilit}^, and set herself with eagerness to inflict the vengeance which it merited. As there was no method of supplanting the princes of Lorrain so effectually as by a coalition of interests with the constable, she proposed the marriage of her granddaughter with one of his sons, as the bond of their future union ; and IMont- niorency readily gave his consent to the match. Having thus cemented their alliance, the duchess employed all her influence with the king, in order to confirm his inclinations towards peace, and to induce him to take the steps neces- sary for attaining it. She insiiuiated that any overture of that kind would conic with great propriety from the constable, and, if entrusted to the conduct of his prudence, could hardly fail of success. Henry, long accustomed to commit all affairs of import- ance to the management of the constable, and needing only this encouragement to return to bis ancient habits, wrote to him immediately with his usual familiarity and affection, empowering him, at the same time, to take the first oppor- tunity of sounding Philip and his ministers with regard to peace. Montmorency made his ajiplication to Philip by the most proper channel. He opened himself to the duke of Savoy, who, notwithstanding the high command to which he had been raised, and the military glory which he BOOK XII.] DEATH OF CHARLES V. 453 had acquired in tlic Spanish service, Avas weary of remaining in exile, and languished to return into his paternal do- minions. As there Avas no prospect of his recovering pos- session of them by force of arms, he considered a definitive treaty of peace between I'rancc and Spain as the only event by which he could hope to o1)t;iin restitution. Being no stranger to Philip's private wishes with regard to peace, he easily prevailed on him not only to discover a disposition on his part towards accommodation, but to permit Mont- morency to return on his parole to France, that he might confirm his own sovereign in his pacific sentiments. Henry received the constable with the most flattering marks of regard ; absence, instead of having abated or extinguished the monarch's friendship, seemed to have given it new ardour. Montmorency, from the moment of his appearance in court, assumed, if possible, a higher place than ever in his affection, and a more perfect ascendant over his mind. The cardinal of Lorrain and the duke of Guise prudently gave way to a tide of f;ivour too strong for them to oppose, and, confining themselves to their proper departments, per- mitted, without any struggle, the constable and duchess of Valentinois to direct public aff'airs at their pleasure. They soon prevailed on the king to nominate plenipotentiaries to treat of peace. Philip did the same. The abbey of Cercamp was fixed on as the place of congress ; and all military operations were immediately terminated by a suspension of arms. While these preliminary steps were taking towards a treaty which restored tranquillity to Europe, Charles V., whose ambition had so long disturbed it, ended his days in the monastery of St. Justus. When Charles entered this retreat, he formed such a plan of life for himself as would have suited the condition of a private gentleman of a moderate fortune. His table was neat but plain; his domestics few; his intercourse with them familiar; all the cumbersome and ceremonious forms of attendance on his 454 HABITS OF CHARLES [bookxii. person were entirely abolished, as destructive of that social ease and tranquillity which he courted, in order to soothe the remainder of his days. As the mildness of the cUmate, together with his deliverance from the burdens and cares of government, procured him at first a considerable remission from the acute pains w^ith which he had long been tormented, he enjoyed, perhaps, more complete satisfaction in this humble solitude than all his grandeur had ever yielded him. The ambitious thoughts and projects w^hich had so long engrossed and disquieted him, w^ere quite effaced from his mind ; far from taking any part in the political transactions of the princes of Europe, he restrained his curiosity even fi'om any inquiry concerning them ; and he seemed to view the busy scene which he liad abandoned with all the con- tempt and indifference arising from his thorough experience of its vanity, as well as from the pleasing reflection of having disentangled himself from its cares. Other amusements and other objects now occupied him. Sometimes he cultivated the plants in his garden with his own hands ; sometimes he rode out to the neighbouring wood on a little horse, the only one that he kept, attended by a single servant on foot. When his infirmities con- fined him to his apartment, which often happened, and deprived him of these more active recreations, he cither admitted a few gentlemen who resided near the monastery to visit him, and entertained them familiarly at his table ; or he enq)loyed himself in studying mechanical principles, and in forming curious works of mechanism, of which he had always been remarkably fond, and to which his genius was peculiarly turned. With this view he had engaged Turriano, one of the most ingenious artists of that age, to accompany him in his retreat. He laboured together with him in framing models of the most useful machines, as well as in making c\j)erimcnts with regard to their respec- tive powers ; and it was not seldom that the ideas of the monarch assisted or perfected the inventions of the artist. BOOK XII.] DURING HIS RETREAT. 455 He relieved liis mind, at intervals, with slighter and more fantastic works of mechanism, in fashioning puppets, which, by the structure of internal springs, mimicked the gestures and actions of men, to the astonishment of the ignorant monks, who, beholding movements which they could not comprehend, sometimes distrusted their own senses, and sometimes suspected Charles and Turriano of being in compact with invisible powers. He was particu- larly curious Avitli regard to the construction of clocks and watches ; and having found, after repeated trials, that he could not bring any two of them to go exactly alike, he reflected, it is said, with a mixture of surprise as well as regret, on his own folly, in having bestowed so much time and labour on the more vain attempt of bringing mankind to a precise uniformity of sentiment concerning the pro- found and mysterious doctrines of religion. But in what manner soever Charles disposed of the rest of his time, he constantly reserved a considerable portion of it for religious exercises. He regularly attended divine service in the cha])el of the monastery, every morning and evening ; he took great pleasure in reading books of devo- tion, particularly the works of St. Augustine and St. Ber- nard ; and conversed much with his confessor and the prior of the monastery, on pious subjects. Thus did Charles pass the first year of his retreat, in a manner not unbecoming a man perfectly disengaged from the affiiirs of the present life, and standing on the confines of a future world ; either in innocent amusements, which soothed his pains, and relieved a mind worn out with excessive application to business ; or in devout occupa- tions, which he deemed necessary in preparing for another state. But about six months before his death, the gout, after a longer intermission than usual, returned with a propor- tional increase of violence. His shattered constitution had not vigour enough remaining to withstand such a 456 CAUSES OF CHARLES'S DEATH. [book xii. shock. It enfeebled his mind as much as his body, and from this period we hardly discern any traces of that sound and masculine understanding which distinguished Charles among his contemporaries. An illiberal and timid super- stition depressed his spirit. He had no relish for amuse- ments of any kind. He endeavoured to conform, in his manner of living, to all the rigour of monastic austerity. He desired no other society than that of monks, and was almost continually employed Avith them in chanting the hymns of the missal. As an expiation for his sins, he gave himself the discipline in secret Avith such severity, that the whip of cords which he employed as the instrument of his punishment was found, after his decease, tinged with his blood. Nor was he satisfied with these acts of morti- fication, which, however severe, were not unexampled. The timorous and distrustful solicitude which always accompanies superstition, still continned to disquiet him, and, depreciating all the devout exercises in which he had hitherto been engaged, prompted him to aim at something extraordinary, at some new and singular act of piety, that "would display his zeal and merit the favour of heaven. The act on which he fixed was as wild and imcommon as any that superstition ever suggested to a weak and dis- ordered fancy. He resolved to celebrate his own obse- quies before his death. He ordered his tomb to be erected in the chapel of the monastery. His domestics marched thither in funeral procession, with black tapers in tlicir hands. He himself followed in his shroud. He was laid in his cofRn, with mucli solemnity. The service for the dead was chaunted, and Charles joined in the j)raycrs which were offered up for the rest of his soul, mingling his tears with those which his attendants shed, ;is if they had been celebrating a real funeral, 'i'hc ceremony closed with sprinkling holy water on the coffin in the usual form, and all tlie assistants retiring, tiie doors of the chapel were shut. Then Charles rose out of the coffin, and withdrew BOOK XII.] HIS CHARACTER. 457 to liis apartment, full of those awful sentiments wliicli such a singular solemnity was calculated to inspire. But either the fatiguing length of the ceremony, or the impres- sion which the image of death left on his mind, affected him so much, that next day he was seized with a fever. His feeble frame could not long resist its violence, and he expired on the twenty-first of September, after a life of fifty-eight years, six months, and twenty-five days.^^ As Charles was the first prince of the age in rank and dignity, the part which he acted, whether we consider the greatness, the variety, or the success of his undertakings, was the most conspicuous. It is from an attentive obser- vation of his conduct, not from the exaggerated praises of the Spanish historians, or the undistinguishing censure of the French, that a just idea of Charles's genius and abili- ties is to be collected. He possessed qualities so peculiar, that they strongly mark his character, and not only dis- tinguish him from the princes who were his contempora- ries, but accoimt for that superiority over them which he so long maintained. In forming his schemes, he was by nature, as well as by habit, cautious and considerate. Born with talents Avhich unfolded themselves slowly, and were late in attaining maturity, he was accustomed to ponder every subject that demanded his consideration with a careful and deliberate attention. He bent the whole force of his mind towards it, and, dwelling upon it with a serious application, undiverted by pleasure, and hardly relaxed by any amusement, he revolved it, in silence, in his own breast. He then communicated the matter to his ministers, and, after hearing their opinions, took his resolution with a decisive firmness, which seldom follows such slow and seemingly hesitating consultations. Of consequence, Charles's measures, instead of resembling ^ Strada dcBello Belg. lib. i. p. 11. iv. p. 216. Vera y Zuniga, Vidu de Thuan. p. 723. Sandov. ii. pp. 609, Carlos, p. 111. &c. Miuiann, Coutiii. Mariana;, vol. 458 CHARACTER AND GENIUS [book xir. the desultory and irregular sallies of Henry VIII. or Francis I., had the appearance of a consistent system, in which all the parts were arranged, all the effects were foreseen, and even every accident was provided for. Plis promptitude in execution was no less remarkable than his patience in deliberation. He did not discover greater sagacity in his choice of the measures which it was proper to pursue, than fertility of genius in finding out the means for rendering his jDursuit of them successful. Though he had naturally so little of the martial turn, that, during the most ardent and bustling period of life, he remained in the cabinet inactive, yet, Avhen he chose at length to appear at the head of his armies, his mind was so formed for vigorous exertions in every direction, that he acquired such knowledge in the art of war, and such talents for command, as rendered him equal in reputation and success to the most able generals of the age. But Charles pos- sessed, in the most eminent degree, the science which is of greatest importance to a monarch, that of knowing men, and of adapting their talents to the various departments which he allotted to them. From the death of Chievres to the end of his reign, he employed no general in the field, no minister in the cabinet, no ambassador to a foreign court, no governor of a province, whose abilities were inadequate to the trust which he reposed in them. Thoui2rh destitute of that bewitchino- affabilitv of manners which gained Francis the hearts of all who approached his person, he was no stranger to the virtues which secure fidelity and attachment. lie placed unbounded confidence in his generals ; he rewarded their services with munifi- cence ; he neither envied their fame, nor discovered any jealousy of their power. Almost all the generals who conducted his armies may be placed on a level with those ilhistrious personages who have attained the highest emi- nence of military glory ; and his advantages over his rivals are to be ascribed so manifestly to the superior abilities BOOK XII.] OF CHARLES V. 459 of the commanders whom he set in opposition to tliem, that this might seem to detract, in some degree, from his own merit, if the talent of discovering, and steadiness in employing such instruments, were not the most undoubted proofs of a capacity for government. There were, nevertheless, defects in his political charac- ter which nnist considerably abate the admiration due to his extraordinary talents. Charles's ambition was insa- tiable; and, though there seems to be no foundation for an opinion prevalent in his own age, that he had formed the chimerical project of establishing a universal monarchy in Europe, it is certain that his desire of being distin- guished as a conqueror involved him in continual wars, which not only exhausted and oppressed his subjects, but left him little leisure for giving attention to the interior police and improvement of his kingdoms, the great objects of every prince who makes the happiness of his people the end of his government. Charles at a very early period of life, having added the imperial crown to the kingdoms of Spain, and to the hereditary dominions of the houses of Austria and Burgundy, this opened to him such a vast field of enterprise, and engaged him in schemes so com- plicated as well as arduous, that feeling his power to be unequal to the execution of them, he had often recourse to low artifices, unbecoming his superior talents, and some- times ventured on such deviations from integrity as were dishonourable in a great prince. His insidious and fraudu- lent policy appeared more conspicuous, and was rendered more odious, by a comparison with the open and unde- signing character of his contemporaries, Francis I. and Henry VHT. This difference, though occasioned chiefly by the diversity of their tempers, must be ascribed, in some degree, to such an opposition in the principles of their political conduct, as affords some excuse for this defect in Charles's behaviour, though it cannot serve as a justification of it. Francis and Henry seldom acted but 460 DEATH OF MARY OF ENGLAND. [book xir. from the impulse of tlieir passions, and rushed headlong towards the object in view. Charles's measures being the result of cool reflection, were disposed into a regular sys- tem, and carried on upou a concerted plan. Persons wjio act in the former manner, naturally pursue the end in view, without assuming any disguise, or displaying much address. Such as hold the latter course are apt, in forming as well as in executing their designs, to employ such refine- ments as always lead to artifice in conduct, and often degenerate into deceit. The circumstances transmitted to us with respect to Charles's private deportment and character, are fewer and less interesting than might have been expected from the great number of authors who have undertaken to write an account of his life. These are not the object of this history, which aims more at representing the great transactions of the reign of Charles V., and pointing out the manner in which they affected the political state of Europe, than at delineating his private virtues or defects. The plenipotentiaries of France, Spain, and England, continued their conferences at Cercanip ; and though each of them, with the usual art of negotiators, made at first very high demands in the name of their respective courts, yet, as they were all equally desirous of peace, they would have consented reciprocally to such abatements and restric- tions of their claims as must have removed every obstacle to an accommodation. The death of Charles V. was a new motive with Philip to hasten the conclusion of a treaty, as it increased his impatience for returning into Spain, where there was now no person greater or more illustrious than himself. But, in spite of the concurring wishes of all the parties interested, an event happened which occasioned an unavoidable delay in their negotiations. About a month after the o])ening of the conferences at Cercamp, ]Mary of England ended her short and inglorious reign, and \'Ai/,i\- bcth, her sister, was inuncdiately proclaimed (]U(>en Avith BOOK xii.] QUEEN ELIZABETH. 461 universal joy. As the powers of the English plenipoten- tiaries expired on the death of their mistress, they couhl not proceed until they received a commission and instructions from their new sovereign. Henry and Philip beheld Ehzabeth's elevation to the throne with equal solicitude. As during Mary's jealous administration, under the most difficult circumstances, and in a situation extremely delicate, that princess had con- ducted herself with prudence and address far exceeding her years, they had conceived a high idea of her abilities, and already formed expectations of a reign very different from that of her sister. Equally sensible of the importance of gaining her favour, both monarchs set themselves with emulation to court it, and employed every art in order to insinuate themselves into her confidence. Each of them had something meritorious with regard to Elizabeth to plead in his own behalf. Henry had offered her a retreat in his dominions, if the dread of her sister's violence should force her to fly for safety out of England. Philip, by his powerful intercession, had prevented Mary from proceeding to the most fatal extremities against her sister. Each of them endeavoured now to avail himself of the circumstances in his favour. Henry wrote to Elizabeth, soon after her accession, with the warmest expressions of regard and friendship. He represented the war which had unhappily been kindled between their kingdoms, not as a national quarrel, but as the effect of Mary's blind partiality to her husband, and fond compliance with all his wishes. He entreated her to disen2;aoe herself from an alliance which liad proved so unfortunate to England, and to consent to a separate peace with him, without mingling her interests with those of Spain, from which they ought now to be altogether disjoined. Philip, on the other hand, unwilling to lose his connexion with England, the importance of which during a rupture with Erancc he had so recently experienced, not only vied with Henry in declarations of 462 ELIZABETH AND THE RIVAL PRINCES. [book xil esteem for Elizabeth, and in professions of bis resohition to cultivate tbe strictest amity with ber, but, in order to confirm and perpetuate tbeir union, be offered himself to her in marriage, and undertook to procure a dispensation from the pope for that purpose. Elizabeth weighed tbe proposals of tbe two monarchs attentively, and with that provident discernment of ber true interest which was conspicuous in all her deliberations. She gave some encouragement to Henry's overture of a separate negotiation, because it opened a channel of corre- spondence with France, which she might find to be of great advantage, if Philip should not discover sufficient zeal and solicitude for securing to her proper terms in the joint treaty. But she ventured on this step with the most cautious reserve, that she might not alarm Philip's suspi- cious temper, and lose an ally in attempting to gain an enemy. -^ Henry himself, by an unpardonable act of indis- cretion, prevented her from carrying ber intercourse with him to such a length as might have offended or alienated Philip. At the very time when he was courting Ebzabeth's friendship with the greatest assiduity, he yielded with au inconsiderate facility to the solicitations of the princes of Lorrain, and allowed his daughter-in-law, the queen of Scots, to assume tbe title and arms of queen of England. Tliis ill-timed pretension, the source of many calamities to the unfortunate queen of Scots, extinguished at once all the confidence which might have grown between Henry and Elizabeth, and left in its place distrust, resentment, and antipatby. Elizabeth soon found that she must unite ber interests closely with Philip's, and expect peace only from negotiations carried on in conjunction with him.-* As she had granted a commission immediately after her accession to tbe same plenipotentiaries Avhom her sister had employed, she now instructed them to act in every point in ^ Forbes, i. p. 4. (ion, i. p. 11. Carle's Hist, of Eiig- ^* Slrypc's Annals of the Reforma- land, vol. iii. p. 375. BOOK XII.] CONFERENCES AT CERCAMP. 463 concert with the })lenipotentiaries of Spain, and to take no step until they had previously consulted with them." But though she deemed it prudent to assume this appearance of confidence in the Spanish monarch, she knew precisely how far to carry it , and discovered no inclination to accept of that extraordinary ])roposal of marriage which Philip had made to her. The English had expressed so openly their detestation of her sister's choice of him, that it would have been highly imprudent to have exasperated them by renew- ing that odious alliance. She was too well acquainted with Philip's harsh imperious temper to think of him for a husband. Nor could she admit a dispensation from the pope to be sufficient to authorize her marrying him, without condemning her father's divorce from Catharine of Aragon, and of acknowledging, of consequence, that her mother's marriage was null, and her own birth illegitimate. But though she determined not to yield to Philip's addresses, the situation of her affairs rendered it dangerous to reject them ; she returned her answer, therefore, in terms which were evasive, but so tempered with respect, that though they gave him no reason to be secure of success, they did not altogether extinguish his hopes. By this artifice, as well as by the prudence with which she concealed her sentiments and intentions concerning religion for some time after her accession, she so far gained upon Philip, that he warmly espoused her interest in the conferences which were renewed at Cercamp, and after- wards removed to Chateau- Cambresis. A definitive treaty, which was to adjust the claims and pretensions of so many princes, required the examination of such a variety of intri- cate points, and led to such infinite and minute details, as drew out the negotiations to a great length. But the constable Montmorency exerted himself with such indefa- tigable zeal and industry, repairing alternately to the courts of Paris and Brussels, in order to obviate or remove every -' Eorbes, Full View, i. pp. 37, 40. 464 THE CLAIMS OP ENGLAND. [bookxii. difficulty, that all points in dispute were adjusted at length in such a manner, as to give entire satisfaction in every particular to Henry and Philip ; and the last hand was ready to be put to the treaty between them. The claims of Ensrland remained as the onlv obstacle to retard it. Elizabeth demanded the restitution of Calais in the most peremptory tone, as an essential condition of her consenting to peace. Henry refused to give up that important conquest ; and both seemed to have taken their resolution with unalterable firmness. Philip warmly sup- ported Elizabeth's pretensions to Calais, not merely from a principle of equity toAvards the English nation, that he might appear to have contributed to their recovering what they had lost by espousing his cause, nor solely with a view of soothing Elizabeth by this manifestation of zeal for her interest, but in order to render France less formidable by securing to her ancient enemy this easy access into the heart of the kingdom. The earnestness, however, Avith which he seconded the arguments of the English plenipo- tentiaries soon began to relax. During the course of the negotiation, Elizabeth, who now felt herself firmly seated on her throne, began to take such open and vigorous measures, not only for overturning all that her sister had done in favour of popery, but for establishing the protes- tant church on a firm foundation, as convinced Philip that his hopes of a union with her had been from the begin- ning vain, and were now desperate. Prom that period his interpositions in her favour became more cold and formal, flowing merely from a regard to decorum, or from the consideration of remote political interests. Elizabeth, having reason to expect such an alteration in his conduct, quickly perceived it. But as nothing would have been of greater detriment to her people, or more inconsistent with her schemes of domestic administration, than the continuance of war, she saw the necessity of submitting to such con- ditions as the situation of her allairs imposed, and that she BOOK XII.] ARTICLES OF PEACE. 465 must reckon upon being deserted by an ally who was now united to her by a very feeble tie, if she did not sjjeedily reduce her demands to what was moderate and attainable. She accordingly gave new instructions to her ambassadors ; and Philip's plenipotentiaries acting as mediators between the Prench and them,-" an expedient was fallen upon, which, in some degree, justified Elizabeth's departing from the rigour of her first demand with regard to Calais. All lesser articles were settled without much discussion or delay. Philip, that he might not appear to have abandoned the English, insisted that the treaty between Henry and Eliza- beth should be concluded in form before that between the French monarch and himself. The one was signed on the second day of April, the other on the day following. The treaty of peace between Prance and England con- tained no articles of real importance, but that which respected Calais, It was stipulated, that the king of Prance should retain possession of that town, with all its dependencies, during eight years ; that, at the expiration of that term, he should restore it to England ; that, in case of non-performance, he should forfeit five hundred thousand crowns ; for the payment of which sum, seven or eight wealthy merchants, who were not his subjects, should grant security ; that five persons of distinction should be given as hostages until that security were provided ; that, although the forfeit of five hundred thousand crowns should be paid, the riiiht of Ensjland to Calais should still remain entire,, in the same manner as if the term of eight years were expired ; that the king and queen of Scotland should be included in the treaty; that if they or the Prencli king- should violate the peace by any hostile action, Henry should be obliged instantly to restore Calais; that, on the other hand, if any breach of the treaty proceeded from Elizabeth, then Henry and the king and queen of Scots were absolved 2« Eorbcs, i. p. 50. VOL. ir. U H 466 VIEWS OF CONTRACTING PARTIES. [bookxh. from all the engagements wliich they had come under by this treaty. Notwithstanding the studied attention with which so many precautions were taken, it is evident that Henry did not intend the restitution of Calais, nor is it probable that Elizabeth expected it. It was hardly possible that she could maintain, during the course of eight years, such per- fect concord both with France and Scotland, as not to aflbrd Henry some pretext for alleging that she had violated the treaty. But, even if that term should elapse without any ground for complaint, Henry might then choose to pay the sum stipulated, and Elizabeth had no method of asserting her right but by force of arms. However, by throwing the articles in the treaty with regard to Calais into this form, Elizabeth satisfied her subjects of every denomination ; she gave men of discernment a striking proof of her address in palliating what she could not prevent ; and amused the multitude, to whom the cession of such an important place would have appeared altogether infamous, with a prospect of recovering in a short time that favourite possession. The expedient which Montmorency employed in order to facilitate the conclusion of peace between France and Spain, was the negotiating two treaties of marriage, one between Elizabeth, Henry's eldest daughter, and Philip, who supplanted his son, the unfortunate Don Carlos, to whojn that princess had been promised in the former con- ferences at Cercamp ; the other between Margaret, Henry's only sister, and the duke of Savoy. For, however feeble the ties of blood may often be among princes, or how little soever they may regard them when pushed on to act by motives of ambition, they assume on other occasions the appearance of being so far influenced by these domestic afieetions, as to enijjloy them to justify measures and con- cessions which they find to be necessary, but know to be im})olitic or dishonourable. Such was tlie use Henry made of IIk; two niarriai:;es to which he fjjave his cons.nt. Havinir BOOK XII.] TREATY BETWEEN FRANCE AND SPAIN. 467 secured an honourable cstablislunent fur liis sister and his daughter, he, in consideration of these, granted terms both to Phihp and the duke of Savoy, of which he would not on any other account have ventured to approve. The principal articles in the treaty between Prance and Spain were, that a sincere and perpetual amity should be established between the two crowns and their respective allies; that the two monarchs should labour in concert to procure the convocation of a general council, in order to check the progress of heresy, and restore unity and concord to the Christian church ; that all conquests made by either party, on this side of the Alps, since the commencement of the war in one thousand five hundred and fifty-one, should be mutually restored ; that the duchy of Savoy, the princi- pality of Piedmont, the country of Bressy, and all the other territories formerly subject to the dukes of Savoy, should be restored to Emanuel Phihbert, immediately after the celebration of his marriage with Margaret of France, the towns of Turin, Quiers, Pignerol, Chivaz, and Villanova excepted, of which Henry should keep possession until his claims to these places, in right of his grandmother, should be tried and decided in course of law ; that, as long as Henry retained these places in his hands, Philip should be at liberty to keep garrisons in the towns of Vercelli and Asti ; that the French king should immediately evacuate all the places which he held in Tuscany and the Sienese, and renounce all future pretensions to them ; that he should restore the marquisate of Montferrat to the duke of Mantua; that he should receive the Genoese into favour, and give up to them the towns which lie had conquered in the island of Corsica; that none of the princes or states to whom these cessions w^ere made, should call their subjects to account for any part of their conduct while under the dominion of their enemies, but should bury all past trans- actions in oblivion. The pope, the emperor, the kings of Denmark, Sweden, Poland, Portugal, the king and queen H II 2 468 PEACE RATIEIED. [book xii. of Scots, and almost every prince and state in Christendom were comprehended in this pacification, as the alhes either of Henry or of PhiHp." Tims, by tliis famous treaty, peace was re-estabhshed in Europe. All the causes of discord which had so long embroiled the powerful monarchs of France and Spain, that had transmitted hereditary quarrels and wars from Charles to Philip, and from Francis to Henry, seemed to be wholly removed or finally terminated. The French alone complained of the unequal conditions of a treaty, into which an ambitious minister, in order to recover his liberty, and an artful mistress, that she might gratify her resentment, had seduced their too easy monarch. They exclaimed loudly against the folly of giving up to the enemies of France a hundred and eighty-nine fortified places, in the Low Countries or in Italy, in return for the three insignificant towns of St. Quentin, Ham, and Catelet. They considered it as an indelible stain upon the glory of the nation, to renounce in one day territories so extensive, and so capable of being defended that the enemy could not have hoped to wrest them out of its hands, after many years of victory. But Henry, without regarding the sentiments of his people, or being moved by the remonstrances of his council, ratified the treaty, and executed with great fidelity what- ever he had stipulated to perform. The duke of Savoy repaired with a numerous retinue to Paris, in order to celebrate his marriage with Henry's sister. The duke of Alva was sent to the same capital at the head of a splendid embassy, to espouse Elizabeth in the name of his master. They Averc received with extraordinary magnificence by the French court. Amidst the rejoicings and festivities on that occasion, Henry's days were cut short by a singular and tragical accident. His son, IVancis H., a j)rincc under age, of a weak constitution, and of a mind still more feeble, "'' ]{ccueil lUs Traites, (om. ii. 287. BOOK XII.] CONSIDERATIONS. 4G9 succeeded liim. Soon after, Paul ended his violent and imperious pontificate, at enmity with all the work), and disgusted even with his own nephews. They, perse- cuted by Philip, and deserted by the succeeding ])ope, whom they had raised by their influence to the papal throne, were condennied to the punishment Avhich their crimes and ambition had merited, and their death Avas as infamous as their lives had been criminal. Thus most of the personages who had long sustained the principal cha- racters on the great theatre of Europe, disappeared al)out the same time. A more known period of history opens at this era ; other actors enter upon the stage, with different views as well as diff'erent passions ; new contests arose, and new schemes of ambition occupied and disquieted mankind. Upon reviewing the transactions of any active period in the history of civilized nations, the changes which are accomplished appear wonderfully disproportioned to the efforts w^iich have been exerted. Conquests are never very extensive or rapid, but among nations whose ])rogress in improvement is extremely unequal. When Alexander the Great, at the head of a gallant people, of simple maimers, and formed to war by admirable military institutions, invaded a state sunk in luxury, and enervated by excessive refinement; when Genchizcan and Tamerlane, with their armies of hardy barbarians, poured in upon nations, en- feebled by the climate in which they lived, or by the arts and commerce which they cultivated, these conquerors, like a torrent, swept everything before them, subduing kingdoms and provinces in as short a space of time as was requisite to march through them. But when nations are in a state similar to each other, and keep equal pace in their advances towards refinement, they are not exposed to the calamity of sudden conquests. Their acquisitions of knowledge, their progress in the art of war, their political sagacity and address, are nearly equal. The fate of states in this situation depends not on a single battle. Their internal 470 STATE OF EUROPE [book xii. resources are many and various. Nor are they themselves alone interested in their own safety, or active in their own defence. Other states interpose, and balance any tempo- rary advantage which either party may have acquired. After the fiercest and most lengthened contest, all the rival nations are exhausted, none are conquered. At length they find it necessary to conclude a peace, which restores to each almost the same power and the same territories of which they were formerly in possession. Such was the state of Europe during the reign of Charles V. No prince was so much superior to the rest in power, as to render his efforts irresistible, and his conquests easy. No nation had made progress in improvement so far beyond its neighbours as to have acquired a very manifest pre-eminence. Each state derived some advantage, or was subject to some inconvenience, from its situation or its climate; each was distinguished by something peculiar in the genius of its people, or the constitution of its govern- ment. But the advantages possessed by one state were counterbalanced by circumstances favourable to others ; and this prevented any from attaining such superiority as might have been fatal to all. The nations of Europe in that age, as in the present, were like one great family : there were some features common to all, which fixed a resem- blance ; there were certain peculiarities conspicuous in each, which marked a distinction. But there was not among them that wide diversity of character and of genius which, in almost every period of history, hath exalted the Europeans above the inhabitants of the other quarters of the globe, and seems to have destined the one to rule, and the other to obey. But though the near resemblance and equality in im- provement among the diff'erent nations of Europe, pre- vented the reign of Charles V. from being distinguished by such sudden and extensive conquests as occur in some other periods of history, yet during the course of his administra- tion, all the considerable states in Europe sufiered a 300K XII.] DURING THE REIGN OF CPIARLES V. 471 remarkable change in their ])olitical situation, and felt the influence of events which have not hitlierto spent their force, but still continue to operate in a greater or in a less degree. It was during his reign, and in consequence of the perpetual efforts to Avhich his enterprising ambition roused him, that the ditferent kingdoms of Europe acquired internal vigour ; that they discerned the resources of which they were possessed ; that they came both to feel their own strength, and to know how to render it formidable to others. It was during his reign, too, that the diflerent kingdoms of Europe, which in former times seemed frequently to act as if they had been single and disjoined, became so thoroughly acquainted, and so intimately connected with each other, as to form one great political system, in which each took a station, wherein it hath remained since that time with less variation than could have been expected after the events of two active centuries. The progress, however, and acquisitions of the house of Austria were not only greater than those of any other power, but more discernible and conspicuous. I have already enu- merated the extensive territories which descended to Charles from his Austrian, Burgundian, and Spanish ancestors.^^ To these he himself added the imperial dignity ; and, as if all this had been too little, the bounds of the habitable globe seemed to be extended, and a new world was subjected to his command. Upon his resignation, the Burgundian provinces, and the Spanish kingdoms with their depen- dencies both in the old and new worlds, devolved to Philip. But Charles transmitted his dominions to his son in a con- dition very different from that in which he himself had received them. They were augmented by the accession of new provinces ; they were habituated to obey an adminis- tration which was no less vigorous than steady ; they were accustomed to expensive and persevering eflbrts, which, though necessary in the contests between civilized nations, ^^ Vol. i. p. 337. 472 PROGRESS OF [book xil Lad been little known in Europe before the sixteenth cen- tury. The provinces of Frieslancl, Utrecht, and Overyssel, which he acquired by purchase from their former pro- prietors, and the duchy of Gueldres, of which he made himself master, partly by force of arms, partly by the arts of negotiation, were additions of great value to his Bur- gundian dominions. Ferdinand and Isabella had trans- mitted to him all the provinces of Spain, from the bottom of the Pyrenees to the frontiers of Portugal ; but as he maintained a perpetual peace with that kingdom, amidst the various efforts of his enterprising ambition, he made no acquisition of territory in that quarter. Charles had gained, however, a vast accession of power in this part of his dominions. By his success in the war with the commons of Castile, he exalted the regal prero- gative upon the ruins of the privileges which formerly belonged to the people. Though he allowed the name of the cortes to remain, and the formality of holding it to be continued, he reduced its authority and jurisdiction almost to nothing, and modelled it in such a manner, that it be- came rather a junto of the servants of the crown, than an assembly of the representatives of the people. One member of the constitution being thus lopped off, it was impossible but that the other must feel the stroke and suffer by it. The suppression of the popular power rendered the aristo- cratical less formidable. The grandees, prompted by the warlike spirit of the age, or allured by the honours which they enjoyed in a court, exhausted their fortunes in mili- tary service, or in attending on the person of their prince. They did not dread, perhaps did not observe, the dangerous progress of the royal authority, which, leaving them the vain distinction of being covered in presence of their sovereign, stripped them, by degrees, of that real power which they possessed while they formed one body, and acted in concert with the peo})le. Charles's success in abolishing the privileges of the connnons, and in breaking the power BOOK XII.] THE HOUSE OF AUSTRIA. 473 of the nobles of Castile, encouraged Philip to invade the liberties of Aragon, which were still more extensive. The Castilians, accustomed to subjection themselves, assisted in imposing the yoke on their more happy and independent neighbours. The will of the sovereign became the supreme law in all the kingdoms of Spain ; and princes who were not checked in forming their plans by the jealousy of the people, nor controlled in executing them by the powder of the nobles, could both aim at great objects, and call forth the whole strength of the monarchy in order to attain them. As Charles, by extending the royal prerogative, rendered the monarchs of Spain masters at home, he added new- dignity and power to their crown by his foreign acqui- sitions. He secured to Spain the quiet possession of the kingdom of Naples, which Ferdinand had usurped by fraud, and held with difficulty. lie united the duchy of Mdan, one of the most fertile and populous Italian provinces, to the Spanish crown, and left his successors, even w-ithout taking their other territories into the account, the most considerable princes in Italy, which had been long the theatre of contention to the great powers of Europe, and in which they had struggled with emulation to obtain the superiority. When the French, in conformity to the treaty of Chateau-Cambresis, w^itlidrew their forces out of Italy, and finally relinquished all their schemes of conquest on that side of the Alps, the Spanish dominions there rose in importance, and enabled their kings, as long as the mo- narchy retained any degree of vigour, to preserve the chief sway in all the transactions of that country. But whatever accession, either of interior authority or of foreign dominion, Charles gained for the monarchs of Spain in Europe, was inconsiderable when compared with his acquisitions in the new world. He added there, not provinces, but empires to his crown. He conquered territories of such immense ex- tent ; he discovered such inexhaustible veins of wealth, and opened such boundless prospects of every kind, as must 474 HOUSE OP AUSTELi. [book xii. have roused his successor, and have called him forth to action, tliough his ambition had been much less ardent than that of Philip, and must have rendered him not only enter- prising but formidable. While the elder branch of the Austrian family rose to such pre-eminence in Spain, the younger, of which Ferdi- nand was the head, grew to be considerable in Germany. The ancient hereditary dominions of the house of Austria in Germany, united to the kingdom of Hungary and Bohemia, which Ferdinand had acquired by marriage, formed a re- spectable power ; and when the imperial dignity was added to these, Ferdinand possessed territories more extensive than had belonged to any prince, Charles V. excepted, who had been at the head of the empu-e during several ages. For- tunately for Europe, the disgust which Philip conceived on account of F'erdinand's refusing to relinquish the imperial crown in his favour, not only prevented for some time the separate members of the house of Austria from acting in concert, but occasioned between them a visible alienation and rivalship. By degrees, however, regard to the interest of their family extinguished this impolitical animosity. The confidence wdiich was natural returned ; the aggran- dizing of the house of Austria became the common object of all their schemes ; they gave and received assistance alternately towards the execution of them ; and each de- rived consideration and importance from the other's success. A family so great and so aspiring became the general object of jealousy and terror. All the power, as well as policy of Europe, were exerted during a century in order to check and humble it. Nothing can give a more striking idea of the ascendant which it had acquired than that, after its vigour was spent with extraordinary exertions of its strength, after Spain was become only the shadow of a great name, and its monarchs were sunk into debility and dotage, the house of Austria still continued to be formidal)le. The nations of Europe had so often felt its superior power, and BOOK xii.] GROWTH or FRANCE. 475 had been so constantly employed in guarding against it, that the dread of it b{;catne a kind of political habit, the influence of which remained when the causes which had formed it ceased to exist. AVhile the house of Austria went on with such success in enlarmno- its dominions, France made no considerable acquisition of new territory. All its schemes of conquest in Italy had proved abortive ; it had hitherto obtained no establishment of consequence in the new world ; and, after the continued and vigorous efforts of four successive reigns, the confines of the kingdom were much the same as Louis XL had left them. But though France made not such large strides towards dominion as the house of Austria, it continued to advance by steps which were more secure, because they were gradual and less observed. The conquest of Calais put it out of the power of the English to invade France but at their utmost peril, and delivered the French from the dread of their ancient enemies, who, previous to that event, could at any time penetrate into the kingdom by that avenue, and thereby retard or defeat the execution of their best-concerted enterprises against any foreign power. The important acquisition of Metz covered that part of their frontier which formerly was most feeble, and lay most exposed to insult. France, from the time of its ob- taining these additional securities against external invasion, must be deemed the most powerful kingdom in Europe, and is more fortunately situated than any on the continent, either for conquest or defence. From the confines of Artois to the bottom of the Pyrenees, and from the British Channel to the frontiers of Savoy and the coast of the Mediter- ranean, its territories lie compact and unmingled with those of any other power. Several of the considerable provinces which had contracted a spirit of independence by their having been long subject to the great vassals of the crown, who were often at variance or at war with their master, were now accustomed to recognise and to obey one sove- 476 GllOWTH or FRANCE. [book xii. reign. As tliey became members of tlie same monarchy, they assumed the sentiments of that body into which they ^vere incorporated, and cooperated with zeal towards pro- moting its interest and honour. The power and influence wrested from the nobles were seized by the crown. The people were not admitted to share in these spoils ; they gained no new privilege ; they acquired no additional weight in the legislature. It was not for the sake of the people, but in order to extend their own prerogative, that the monarchs of France had laboured to humble their great vassals. Satis- fied with having brought them under entire subjection to the crown, they discovered no solicitude to free the people from their ancient dependence on the nobles of whom they held, and by whom tliey Avere often oppressed. A monarch, at the head of a kingdom thus united at home, and secure from abroad, was entitled to form great designs, because he felt himself in a condition to execute them. The foreign wars, which had continued with little interruption from the accession of Charles VIII., had not only cherished and augmented the martial genius of the nation, but, by inuring the troops during the course of long- service to the fatigues of war, and accustoming them to obedience, had added the force of discipline to their natural ardour. A gallant and active body of nobles, who con- sidered themselves as idle and useless, unless when tlicy were in the field ; who were hardly acquainted with any pastime or exercise but what was military ; and Avho knew no road to power, or fame, or wealth, but war, would not have suffered their sovereign to remain long in ijiaction. The people, little acquainted with the arts of peace, and always ready to take arms at the command of their superiors, were accustomed, by the expense of long wars carried on in distant countries, to bear inq^ositions, which, liowevcr inconsiderable they may seem if estimated by the exorbitant rate of modern exactions, appear immense when compared with the sums levied in France, or in any other BOOK XXI.] GROWTH OF FRANCE. 477 country of Europe, previous to the reign of Louis XI. As all the members of which the state was composed were thus impatient for action, and ca{)able of great efforts, the schemes and operations of France must have been no less formidable to Europe than those of Spain. The superior advantages of its situation, the contiguity and compactness of its territories, together with the peculiar state of its political constitution at that juncture, must have rendered its enterprises still more alarming and more decisive. The king possessed such a degree of power as gave him the entire conunand of his subjects ; the people were strangers to those occupations and habits of life which render men averse to war, or unfit for it ; and the nobles, though reduced to the subordination necessary in a regular govern- ment, still retained the high undaunted spirit which was the effect of their ancient independence. The vigour of the feudal times remained ; their anarchy was at an end ; and the kings of France could avail themselves of the martial ardour which that singular institution had kindled or kept alive, without being exposed to the dangers or incon- veniences wdiich are inseparable from it when in entire force. A kingdom in such a state is, perhaps, capable of greater military efforts than at any other period in its progress. But how formidable or how fatal soever to the other nations of Europe the power of such a monarchy might have been, the civil w'ars which broke out in France saved them at that juncture from feeling its effects. These wars, of which religion ^vas the pretext, and ambition the cause, wdierein great abilities were displayed by the leaders of the different factions, and little conduct or firmness was manifested by the crown under a succession of weak princes, kept France occupied and embroiled for half a century. During these commotions the internal strength of the kingdom was much wasted, and such a spirit of anarchy was spread among the nobles, to whom rebellion was familiar, and the restraint of laws unknown, that a considerable interval became 478 ENGLAND : [book xii. requisite, not only for recruiting the internal vigour of the nation, but for re-estabUshiug the authority of the prince ; so that it was long before France could turn her whole attention towards foreign transactions, or act with her proper force in foreign wars. It was long before she rose to that ascendant in Europe which she has maintained since the administration of Cardinal Richelieu, and which the situation as well as extent of the kingdom, the nature of her government, together with the character of her people, entitle her to maintain. While the kingdoms on the continent grew into power and consequence, England likewise made considerable pro- gress towards regular government and interior strengtli. Henry VIII., probably without intention, and certainly without any consistent plan, of which his nature was in- capable, pursued the scheme of depressing the nobility, which the policy of his father, Henry VIL, had begun. The pride and caprice of his temper led him to employ chiefly new men in the administration of affairs, because he found them most obsequious or least scrupulous ; and he not only conferred on them such plenitude of power, but exalted them to such pre-eminence in dignity, as mor- tified and degraded the ancient nobility. By the alienation or sale of the church lands, which were dissipated with a profusion not inferior to the rapaciousness with which they had been seized, as well as by the privilege granted to the ancient landholders of selling their estates, or disposing of them by will, an immense property, formerly locked up, was brought into circulation. This put the spirit of industry and commerce in motion, and gave it some considerable degree of vigour. The road to power and to opulence became open to persons of every condition. A sudden and excessive flow of wealth from the West Indies proved fatal to industry in Spain ; a modti-ate accession in England to the sum in circulation gave life to commerce, awakened the ingenuity of the nation, and excited it to useful enterprise. BOOK xu.] ITS INTERNAL POLICY. 479 In France, what the nobles lost the crown gained. In England, the commons were gainers as well as the king. Power and influence accompanied, of course, the property which they acquired. They rose to consideration among their fellow-subjects ; they began to feel their own im- portance ; and, extending their influence in the legislative body gradually, and often when neither they themselves nor others foresaw all the eff'ects of their claims and pre- tensions, they at last attained that high authority to which the British constitution is indebted for the existence, and must owe the preservation, of its liberty. At the same time that the English constitution advanced towards perfection, several circumstances brought on a change in the ancient system with respect to foreign powers, and introduced another more beneficial to the nation. As soon as Henry disclaimed the supremacy of the papal see, and broke off all connexion with the papal court, considerable sums were saved to the nation, of which it had been annually drained by remittances to Rome for dispensations and indulgences, by the expense of pilgrimages into foreign countries,'^ or by payment of annates, first-fruits, and a thousand other taxes, which that artful and rapacious court levied on the credulity of mankind. The exercise of a jurisdiction different from that of the civil power, and claiming not only to be independent of it, but superior to it, a wild solecism in government, apt not only to perplex and dis- quiet weak minds, but tending directly to disturb society, was finally abolished. Government became more simple as well as more respectable, when no rank or character exempted any person from being amenable to the same courts as other subjects, from being tried by the same judges, and from being acquitted or condemned by the same laws. ^" The loss whicli the nation sus- persons to visit the shrine of St. James tained by most of tliese articles is of Compostello iii Spain. lxi/tiier,\o\. obvious, and must have been great. x. p. . . In 143'i, tiie number of piU Even that by pilgrimages was not in- grims to the same jilace was 2,100. considerable. In the year 1428, licence IbuL p. . . In 144:5, they were 2,10(1, was obtained by no fewer than 910 vol. ix. p. . . 480 lOEEIGN POLICY 01 ENGLAND. [book xn. By the loss of Calais the English were excluded from the continent. All schemes for invading France became, of course, as chimerical as they had formerly been per- nicious. The views of the English were confined, first by necessity, and afterwards from choice, within their own island. That rage for conquest which had possessed the nation during many centuries, and wasted its strength in perpetual and fruitless wars, ceased at length. Those active spirits which had known and followed no profession but war, sought for occupation in the arts of peace, and their country was benefited as much by the one as it had suffered by the other. The nation, which had been ex- hausted by frequent expeditions to the continent, recruited its numbers, and acquired new strength ; and when roused by any extraordinary exigency to take part in foreign ope- rations, the vigour of its efforts was proportionally great, because they were only occasional and of short continuance. The same principle which had led England to adopt this new system with regard to the powers on the continent, occasioned a change in its plan of conduct with respect to Scotland, tlie only foreign state with which, on account of its situation in the same island, the English had such a close connexion as demanded their perpetual attention. Instead of prosecuting the ancient scheme of conquering that kingdom, which the nature of the country, defended by a brave and hardy people, rendered dangerous, if not impracticable, it appeared more eligible to endeavour at obtaining such influence in Scotland as might exempt Eng- land from any danger or disquiet from that quarter. The national poverty of the Scots, together with the violence and animosity of their factions, rendered the execution of this plan easy to a people far superior to them in wealth. The leading men of greatest power and popularity were gained ; the ministers and favourites of the crown were cor- rupted ; and such absolute direction of the Scottish councils was acquired as rendered the operations of the one kingdom BOOK xn.] THE REFORMATION. 481 dependent, in a great measure, on the sovereign of the other. Such perfect external security, added to the interior advantages which England now possessed, nuist soon have raised it to new consideration and importance ; the long reign of EHzabeth, equally conspicuous for wisdom, for steadiness, and for vigour, accelerated its progress, and carried it with greater rapidity towards that elevated station which it hath since held among the powers of Europe. During the period in which the political state of the great kingdoms underwent such changes, revolutions o considerable importance happened in that of the secondary or inferior powers. Those in the papal court are most obvious, and of most extensive consequence. In the preliminary bookj I have mentioned the rise of that spiritual jurisdiction, which the popes claim as vicars of Jesus Christ, and have traced the progress of that au- thority which they possess as temporal princes.^" Previous to the reign of Charles V. there was nothing that tended to circumscribe or to moderate their authority but science and philosophy, which began to revive and to be culti- vated. The progress of these, however, was still incon- siderable ; they always operate slowly ; and it is long before their influence reaches the people, or can produce auy sensible effect upon them. They may perhaps gradually, and in a long course of years, undermine and shake an established system of false religion, but there is no instance of their having overturned one. The battery is too feeble to demolish those fabrics which superstition raises on deep foundations, and can strengthen with the most con- summate art. Luther had attacked the papal supremacy with other weapons, and with an impetuosity more formidable. The time and manner of his attack concurred with a multitude of circumstances, which have been explained, in giving him immediate success. The charm which had bound mankind 3" Vol. I. pp. 108, &c. VOL. II. I I 482 THE EEFORMATIOX. [book xii. for SO many ages was broken at once. The human mind, whicli had conthiued long as tame and passive as if it had been formed to beHeve whatever was taught, and to bear whatever was imposed, roused of a sudden, and became inquisitive, mutinous, and disdainful of the yoke to whicli it had hitherto submitted. That wonderful ferment and agitation of mind which, at this distance of time, appears unaccountable, or is condenmed as extravagant, was so general, that it must have been excited by causes which were natural and of powerful efficacy. The kingdoms of Denmark, Sweden, England, and Scotland, and almost one half of Germany, threw ofl' their allegiance to the pope, abolished his jurisdiction within their territories, and gave the sanction of law to modes of discipline and systems of doctrine which were not only independent of his power, but hostile to it. Nor was the spirit of innovation confined to those countries which openly revolted from the pope ; it spread through all Europe, and broke out in every part of it, with various degrees of violence. It penetrated early into France, and made a quick progress there. In that kingdom the number of converts to the o])inions of the reformers was so great, their zeal so enterprising, and the abilities of their leaders so distinguished, that they soon ventured to contend for superiority with the established church, and were sometimes on the point of obtaining it. In all the provinces of Germany which continued to ac- knowledge the pa])al supremacy, as well as in the Low Countries, the })rotestant doctrines were secretly taught, and had gained so many proselytes, that they were ripe for revolt, and were restrained merely by the dread of their rulers from imitating the example of their neighbours, and asseiting their in(le[)endence. Even in Spain and Italy, symptoms of the same disposition to shake off the yoke appeared. The pretensions of the pope to infallible know- ledge and siij)reme j)ower were treated by many ])erso!is of eminent learning and abilities with such scorn, or attacked BooKxiL] ITS CONSEQUENCES. 483 with such vehemence, that the most vigilant attention of the civil magistrate, the highest strains of pontifical authority, and all the rigour of inquisitorial jurisdiction, were requisite to check and extinguish it. The defection of so many opulent and powerful king- doms from the papal sec, was a fatal blow to its grandeur and power. It abridged the domhiions of the popes in extent ; it diminished their revenues, and left them fewer rewards to bestow on the ecclesiastics of various denomi- nations, attached to them by vows of obedience as well as by ties of interest, and whom they employed as instruments to establish or support their usurpations in every part of Europe. The countries, too, which now disclaimed their authority, were those which formerly had been most de- voted to it. The empire of superstition differs from every other species of dominion ; its power is often greatest and most implicitly obeyed, in the provinces most remote from the seat of government; while such as are situated nearer to that are more apt to discern the artifices by which it is upheld, or the impostures on which it is founded. The personal frailties or vices of the popes, the errors as well as corruption of their administration, the ambition, venality, and deceit which reigned in their courts, fell immediately under the observation of the Italians, and could not fail of diminishing that respect which begets submission. But in Germany, England, and the more remote parts of Europe, these M'ere either altogether unknown, or, being only known by report, made a slighter impression. Veneration for the papal dignity increased accordingly in these countries in proportion to their distance from Rome ; and that vene- ration, added to their gross ignorance, rendered them equally credulous and passive. In tracing the progress of the papal domination, the boldest and most successful instances of encroachment are to be found in Germany and other countries distant from Italy. In these its impositions were heaviest, and its exactions the most rapacious; so I I 2 484 POLICY OF THE ROMAN PONTIFFS [book x that, in estimating the diminution of power whicli the court of Rome suffered in consequence of the reformation, not only the number Init the character of the people who revolted, not ou/y the great extent of territory, but the extraordinary obsequiousness of the subjects which it lost, must be taken into the account. Nor was it only by this defection of so many kingdoms and states which the reformation occasioned, that it con- tributed to diminish the power of the Roman pontiffs. It obliged them to adopt a different system of conduct towards the nations which still continued to recognise their juris- diction, and to govern them by new maxims and with a milder spirit. The reformation taught them, by a fatal example, what they seem not before to have apprehended, that the credulity and patience of mankind might be over- burdened and exhausted. They became afraid of venturing npon any sucli exertion of their authority as might alarm or exasperate their subjects, and excite them to a new revolt. They saw a rival church established in many countries of Europe, the members of which were on the watch to observe any errors in their administration, and eager to expose them. They were sensible that the opinions, adverse to their power and usurpations, were not adopted by their enemies alone, but had spread even among the people who still adhered to them. Upon all these accounts, it was no longer possible to lead or govern their flock in the same manner as in those dark and quiet ages when faith was implicit, when submission was unreserved, and all tamely followed and obeyed the voice of their pastor. Prom tlu! era of the reformation, the popes have ruled rather by address and management than by authority. Though the style of their decrees be still the same, the eflect of them is very different. Those bulls and interdicts which, before the reformation, made the greatest princes tremble, have, since that period, been disregarded or despised by the most inconsiderable. Those bold decisions and acts of juris- BOOK XII.] SINCE THE llEEORMATION. 485 diction which, during many ages, not only passed unccn- sured, hut were revered as the awards of a sacred tribunal, would, since Luther's appearance, be treated by one part of Europe as the effect of folly or arrogance, and be detested by the other as impious and unjust. The popes, in their administration, have been obliged not only to accommodate themselves to the notions of their adherents, but to ])ay some regard to the prejudices of their enemies. They seldom venture to claim new powers, or even to insist obstinately on their ancient prerogatives, lest they should irritate the former ; they carefully avoid every measure that may either excite the indignation or draw on them the derision of the latter. The policy of the court of Rome has become as cautious, circumspect, and timid, as it was once adventurous and violent ; and though their pretensions to infallibility, on wliich all their authority is founded, does not allow them to renounce any jurisdiction which they have at any time claimed or exercised, they find it expe- dient to suffer many of their prerogatives to lie dormant, and not to expose themselves to the risk of losing that remainder of power which they still enjoy, by ill-timed attempts towards reviving obsolete pretensions. Before the sixteenth century, the popes were the movers and directors in every considerable enterprise ; they were at the head of every great alliance; and being considered as ar- biters in the afi'airs of Christendom, the court of Rome was the centre of political negotiation and intrigue. Since that time, the greatest operations in Europe have been carried on independent of them ; they have sunk almost to a level with the other petty princes of Italy ; they continue to claim, though they dare not exercise, the same spiritual jurisdic- tion, but hardly retain any shadow of the temporal power which they anciently possessed. But how fatal soever the reformation may have been to the power of the popes, it has contributed to improve the church of Rome both in science and in morals. The 486 IMPROVEMENT IN MORALS [book xir. desire of equalling the reformers in those talents which had procured them respect ; the necessity of acquiring the knowledge requisite for defending their own tenets, or refuting the arguments of their opponents, together with the emulation natural between two rival churches, engaged the Roman catholic clergy to apply themselves to the study of useful science, which they cultivated with such assiduity and success, that they have gradually become as eminent in literature, as they were in some periods infamous for ignorance. The same principle occasioned a change no less considerable in the morals of the Romish clergy. Various causes, which have formerly been enumerated, had con- curred in introducing great irregularity, and even dissolution of manners, among the popish clergy. Luther and his adherents began their attack on the church with such vehement invectives against these, that, in order to remove the scandal, and silence their declamations, greater decency of conduct became necessary. The reformers themselves were so eminent not only for the purity, but even austerity of their manners, and had acquired such reputation among the people on that account, that the Roman catholic clergy must have soon lost all credit, if they had not endeavoured to conform in some measure to their standard. They knew that all their actions fell under the severe inspection of the protestants, whom enmity and emulation prompted to observe every vice, or even impropriety in their conduct ; to censure them w'ithout indulgence, and to expose them without mercy. This rendered them, of course, not only cautious to avoid such enormities as might give offence, but studious to acquire the virtues which might merit praise. In Spain and Portugal, wdiere the tyrannical jurisdiction of the inquisition crushed the protestant faith as soon as it appeared, the spirit of popery continues in- variable; science has made small ])rogress, and the ehnract(!r of ecclesiastics has undergone little change. Rut in those countries where the members of the two churches havo BOOK XII.] OF ROMISH ECCLESIASTICS. 487 mingled freely with each other, or have carried on any considerable intercourse, either commercial or literary, an extraordinary alteration in the ideas, as well as in the morals, of the po[)ish ecclesiastics, is manifest. In France, the manners of the dignitaries and secular clergy have become decent and exemplary in a high degree. Many of them have been distinguished for all the accomplishments and virtues which can adorn their profession ; and differ greatly from their predecessors before the reformation, both in their maxims and in their conduct. Nor has the influence of the reformation been felt only by the inferior members of the Roman catholic church ; it has extended to the see of Rome, to the sovereign pontiffs themselves. Violations of decorum, and even trespasses against morality, which passed without censure in those ages, when neither the power of the popes, nor the vene- ration of the people for their character, had any bounds ; when there was no hostile eye to observe the errors in their conduct, and no adversaries zealous to inveigh against them ; would be liable now to the severest animadversion, and excite general indignation or horror. Instead of rivalling the courts of temporal princes in gaiety, and surpassing them in licentiousness, the popes have studied to assume manners more severe and more suitable to their ecclesiastical character. The chair of St. Peter hath not been polluted, during two centuries, by any pontiff that resembled Alexander VI., or several of his predecessors, who were a disgrace to religion and to human nature. Throughout this long succession of popes, a wonderful decorum of conduct, compared with that of preceding ages, is observable. Many of them, especially among the pontiffs of the present century, have been conspicuous for all the virtues becoming their high station ; and by their humanity, their love of literature, and their moderation, have made some atonement to mankind for the crimes of their prede- cessors. Thus the beneficial iiifluences of the reformation 488 STATE OF VENICE. [book xir. have been more extensive than they appear on a superficial view ; and this great division in the Christian church hath contributed, in some measure, to increase purity of manners, to diffuse science, and to inspire humanity. History recites such a number of shocking events, occasioned by religious dissensions, that it must afford pecuhar satisfaction to trace any one salutary or beneficial effect to that source from which so many fatal calamities have flowed. The republic of Venice, which, at the beginning of the sixteenth century, had appeared so formidable, that almost all the potentates of Europe united in a confederacy for its destruction, declined gradually from its ancient power and splendour. The Venetians not only lost a great part of their territory in the Avar excited by the league of Cambray, but the revenues as well as vigour of the state were exhausted by their extraordinary and long-continued efforts in their OAvn defence ; and that commerce by which they had acquired their wealth and power began to decay, without any hopes of its reviving. All the fatal conse- quences to their republic, which the sagacity of the Venetian ■senate foresaw on the first discovery of a passage to the East Indies by the Cape of Good Hope, actually took place. Their endeavours to prevent the Portuguese from establishing themselves in the East Indies, not only by exciting the soldans of Egypt, and the Ottoman monarchs, to turn their arms against such dangerous intruders, but by affording secret aid to the infidels in order to insure their sncccss,^' proved ineffectual. The activity and valour of the Portuguese surmounted every obstacle, and obtained such a firm footing in that fertile country, as secured to them large possessions, together with an influence still more extensive. Lisbon, instead of Venice, became the staple for the precious commodities of the East. The Venetians, after having possessed for many years the monopoly of that beneficial commerce, had the mortification to be excluded •'' I'lchcr. Script, llcr. Gcrniau. vol. ii. p. 529. BooKxn.] STATE OF TUSCANY. 489 from almost any share in it. The discoveries of tlic Spaniards in the western world, proved no less fatal to inferior branches of their commerce. Tiie original defects which were formerly pointed out in the constitution of tlic Venetian republic still continued, and the disadvantages with which it undertook any great enterprise increased rather than diminished. The sources from which it derived its extra- ordinary riches and power being dried up, the interior vigour of the state declined, and, of course, its external operations became less formidable. Long before the middle of the sixteenth century, Venice ceased to be one of the principal powers in Europe, and dwindled into a secondary and subaltern state. But as the senate had the address to conceal the diminution of its power, under the veil of moderation and caution ; as it made no rash effort that could discover its weakness ; as the symptoms of political decay in states are not soon observed, and are seldom so apparent to their neighbours as to occasion any sudden alteration in their conduct towards them, Venice continued long to be considered and respected. She was treated not according to her present condition, but according to the rank which she had formerly held. Charles V., as well as the kings of France, his rivals, courted her assistance with emulation and solicitude in all their enterprises. Even down to the close of the century, Venice remained not only an object of attention, but a considerable seat of political negotiation and intrigue. That authority which the first Cosmo de' Medici, and Lawrence, his grandson, had acquired in the republic of Florence, by their beneficence and abilities, inspired their descendants with the ambition of usurping the sovereignty in their country, and paved their way towards it. [1530.] Charles V. placed Alexander de' Medici at the head of the republic, and to the natural interest and power of the family added the wciglit as well as credit of the imperial protection. Of these his successor Cosmo, surnamed the 490 THE DUKES OF SAYOY. [book xii. Great, availed hiiiiself; and establishing his supreme autho- rity on the ruins of the ancient republican constitution, he transmitted that, together with the title of Grand Duke of Tuscany, to his descendants. Their dominions were composed of the territories which had belonged to the three commonwealths of Florence, Pisa, and Siena, and formed one of the most respectable of the Italian states. The dukes of Savoy, during the former part of the sixteenth century, possessed territories which Avere not considerable either for extent or value ; and the French having seized the greater part of them, obliged the reigning duke to retire for safety to the strong fortress of Nice, where he shut himself up for several years, while his son, the prince of Piedmont, tried to better his fortune, by serving as an adventurer in the armies of Spain. The peace of Chateau-Cambresis restored to him liis paternal dominions. As these are environed on every hand by powerful neighbours, all whose motions the dukes of Savoy must observe with the greatest attention, in order not only to guard against the danger of being surprised and overpowered, but that they may choose their side with discernment in those quarrels wherein it is impossible for them to avoid taking part, this peculiarity of their situation seems to have had no inconsiderable influence on their character. By rousing them to perpetual attention, by keeping their ingenuity always on the stretch, and engaging them in almost continual action, it hath formed a race of princes more sagacious in discovering their true interests, more decisive in their resolutions, and more dexterous in availing themselves of every occurrence which presented itself, than any, perhaps, that can be singled out in the history of Europe. By gradual acquisitions the dukes of Savoy have added to their territories, as well as to their own importance; and aspiring at length to regal dignity, which they obtained about half a century ago, by the title BOOK XII.] STATE OF THE UNITED PROVINCES. 491 of kings of Sardinia, tliey hold now no inconsiderable rank among the monarchs of Europe. The territories which form the republic of the United Netherlands were lost, during the first part of the sixteenth century, among the numerous provinces subject to the house of Austria; and were then so inconsiderable, that hardly one opportunity of mentioning them hath occurred in all the busy period of this history. But soon after the peace of Chateaii-Cambrcsis, the violent and bigoted maxims of Philip's government being carried into execution with unrelenting rigour by the duke of Alva, exasperated the people of the Low Countries to such a degree, that they threw off the Spanish yoke, and asserted their ancient liber- ties and laws. These they defended with a persevering valour, which gave employment to the arras of Spain during half a century, exhausted the vigour, ruined the reputation of that monarchy, and at last constrained their ancient masters to recognise and to treat with them as a free and independent state. This state, founded on hberty, and reared by industry and economy, grew into great reputation even while struggling for its existence. But when peace and security allowed it to enlarge its views, and to extend its commerce, it rose to be one of the most respectable as well as enterprising powers in Europe. The transactions of the kingdoms in the north of Europe have been seldom attended to in the course of this history. Russia remained buried in that barbarism and obscurity, from which it was called about the beginning of the present century, by the creative genius of Peter the Great, who made his country known and formidable to the rest of Europe. In Denmark and Sweden, during the reign of Charles V., great revolutions happened in their constitutions, civil as well as ecclesiastical. In the former kingdom, a tyrant being degraded from the throne, and expelled the country, a new prince was called by the voice of the people to assume 492 THE ^'ORTHERN POWERS. [book xir. the reins of government. In the latter a fierce people., roused to arms by injuries and oppression, shook off the Danish yoke, and conferred the regal dignity on its deli- verer Gustavus Ericson, who had all the virtues of a hero and of a patriot. Denmark, exhausted by foreign wars, or weakened by the dissensions between the king and the nobles, became incapable of such efforts as were requisite in order to recover the ascendant which it had long possessed in the north of Europe. Sweden, as soon as it was freed from the dominion of strangers, began to recruit its strength, and acquired in a short time such internal vigour, that it became the first kingdom in the north. Early in the subsequent century it rose to such a high rank among the powers of Europe, that it had the chief merit in forming, as well as conducting, that powerful league, which protected not only the protestant religion, but the liberties of Germany, against the bigotry and ambition of the house of Austria. THE LIFE CHARLES THE FIFTH AFTER HIS ABDICATION. In the Advertisement, I have noticed the existence of sundry documents, in the Archives of Simancas, which give an entirely new complexion to the life of Charles the Fifth after his abdication. The manner in which these documents have been brought before the public forms a curious chapter in literary history ; and the account which 1 have given of it at the close of the First Book of the History of Philip the Second may not be unacceptable to the reader. '• While the manuscripts of Simancas were hidden from the world, a learned keeper of the archives, Don Tomas Gonzalez, discontented with the unworthy view which had been given of the latter days of Charles the Fifth, had profited by the materials which lay around him, to exhibit his life at Yuste in a new and more authentic light. To the volume which he compiled for this purpose, he gave the title of ' Retiro, Estancia y Muerte del Emperador Carlos Quinto en el Monasterio de Yuste.' The work, the principal value of which consists in the copious extracts with which it is furnished from the correspondence of Charles and his household, was suffered by the author to remain in manuscript ; and, at his death, it passed into the hands of his brother, who prepared a summary of its contents, and endeavoured to dispose of the volume at a price so exorbitant that it remained for many years without a purchaser. It was finally bought by the French government at a greatly reduced price — four thousand francs. It may seem strange that it should have brought even this sum, since the time of the sale was that in which the new arrange- ments Avere made for giving admission to the archives that contained the original documents on which the Gonzalez MS. was founded. The work thus bought by the French government 496 LIFE OF CHARLES THE FIFTH was transferred to the Archives des Ajf aires Etrangeres, tlien imder the direction of M. Mignet. The manuscript could not be in better hands than in those of a scholar who has so successfully carried the torch of ciiticism into some of the darkest passages of Spanish history. His occupations, however, took him in another direction ; and for eight years the Gonzalez MS. remained as completely liidden from the world in the Parisian archives as it liad been in those of Simancas. When, at length, it was applied to the histo- rical uses for Avhich it had been intended, it was tlu'ougli the agency, not of a French, but of a British writer. This was Mr. Stirling, the author of the ' Annals of the Artists of Spain/ — a work honourable to its author for the familiarity it shows, not only with the state of the arts in that country, but also with its literature. "Mr. Stirling, during a visit to the Peninsula, in 1849, made a pilgrimage to Yuste; and the traditions and hoary reminiscences gathered round the spot left such an impression on the traveller's mind, that, on his return to England, he made them the subject of two elaborate papers in Fraser^s Magazine, in the numbers for April and May, 1851. Altliough these spirited essays rested wholly on printed works, which had long been accessible to the scholar, tliey were found to contain many new and highly inter- esting details ; showing how superficially Mr. Stirling's prede- cessors had examined the records of the emperor's residence at Yuste. Still, in his account the author had omitted tlie most important feature of Cliarlcs's monastic life, — tlie influence which he exercised on the administration of the kingdom. This was to be gathered from the manuscripts of Simancas. " ]\rr. Stirling, wlio, through that incxliaustiblc repository, the Handbook of Spain, liad become acquainted with the existence of the Gonzalez MS., was, at the time of writing his essays, ignorant of its fate. On learning, afterwards, where it was to be found, he visited Paris, and, having obtained access to the volume, so far profited by its contents as to make them the basis of a separate work, which he entitled ' Tlie Cloister Life of Charles the Fifth.' It soon attracted the attention of scliolars, both at home and abroad, went through several editions, and was received, in short, with an avidity which showed both the importance attached to the developments the author had made, and the attractive form in which he had presented tliem to the reader. " The Parisian scholars were now stimulated to turn to account AFTEU HIS ABDICATION. 497 the treasure wliicli had remained so long neglected on their shelves. In 1854, less than two years after the appearance of Mr. Stirling's book, M. Amed^e Pichot published his ^Chronique de Charles- Quint' a work which, far from being confined to the latter days of the emperor, covers the whole range of his biography, presenting a large amount of information in regard to his personal habits, as well as to the interior organization of his government, and the policy which directed it. The whole is enriched, moreover, by a multitude of historical incidents, that may be regarded rather as subsidiary than essential to the con- duct of the narrative, which is enlivened by much ingenious criticism on the state of manners, arts, and moral culture of the period. " It was not long after the appearance of this work that M. Gachard, whom I have elsewhere noticed as having been commis- sioned by the Belgian government to make extensive researches in the Archives of Simancas, gave to the public some of the fruits of his labours, in the first volume of his ' Eetraite et Mart de Charles- Quint.'' It is devoted to the letters of the emperor and his household, which form the staple of the Gonzalez MS. ; thus placing at the disposition of the future biographer of Charles the original materials with which to reconstruct the history of his latter days. " Lastly came the work, long expected, of M. Mignet, ' Charles- Quint ; son A hdication, son Sejour, et sa Mort au Monastere de Yuste.^ It was the reproduction, in a more extended and elabo- rate form, of a series of papers, the first of which appeared shortly after the publication of Mr. Stirling's book. In this work, the French author takes the clear and comprehensive view of his subject so characteristic of his genius. The difiicult and debat- able points he discusses with acuteness and precision ; and the whole story of Charles's monastic life he presents in so luminous an aspect to the reader, as leaves nothing further to be desired. " The critic may take some interest in comparing the different manners in which the several writers have dealt with the subject, each according to his own taste, or the bent of his genius. Thus, through Stirling's more free and familiar narrative there runs a pleasant vein of humour, with piquancy enough to give it a relish, showing the author's sensibility to the ludicrous, for which Charleses stingy habits, and excessive love of good cheer, even in the convent, furnish frequent occasion. VOL. II. K K 498 LIFE OF CHARLES THE FIFTH. " Quite a different conception is formed hj Mignet of the emperor^s character, which he has cast in the true heroic mould, not deigning to recognise a single defect, however slight, which may at all impair the majesty of the proportions. Finally, Amedee Pichot, instead of the classical, may be said to have conformed to the romantic school, in the arrangement of his subject, indulging in various picturesque episodes, which he has, however, combined so successfully with the main body of the narrative as not to impair the unity of interest. " Whatever may be thought of the comparative merits of these eminent -onriters in the execution of their task, the effect of their labours has undoubtedly been to make that the plainest which was before the most obscure portion of the history of Charles the Fifth." I may add to this account, that, since the publication of the History of Philip the Second, M. Gachard has given to the world his second volume of the " Hetraite et Mort de Charles- Quint y containing some additional information of interest in regard to Charles's convent life, by which I have not failed to profit. THE LIFE OF CHAELES THE FIFTH AFTEK HIS ABDICATION. BOOK I. The Convent of Yuste — Charles's Departure from the Netherlands — His Voyage to Spain — His Progress through the Country — ^Reception at Valla- clolid — Journey to Jarandilla — His Residence there — Discontent of his Household — His Yisitors — Pernicious Indulgence of his Appetite — His Removal to Yuste. The emperor Charles the Fifth had conceived the design of resigning his sceptre, and withdrawing from the world, many years before he put it into execution. This appears from a conversation which he had soon after his abdi- cation with the Portuguese envoy, Lorenzo Pires de Tavora, in which the emperor remarked, that soon after the capture of Tunis, in 1535, he had formed the pur- jDOse of abdicating his crown. This was in the prime of life, in the meridian of his glory, when his arms had just been crowned with a brilHant victory. The despondency into which he was thrown by the death of his beautiful and beloved consort, Isabella of Portugal, some five years later, heightened still further his disgust with the world. The tender age of his son, Philip, induced K K 2 500 LIFE OF CHAELES THE FIETH [booki. him to defer tlie immediate execution of his plan, which was still further postponed by the weighty affairs that pressed on him, and especially by the religious wars in which he was involved in Germany. When, at length, the hour of his abdication did arrive, it found him broken in health, and with spii'its greatly depressed by the series of reverses which had gathered like dark clouds round the evening of his reign. He lamented to the Portuguese ambassador that he had not earlier taken this step, when he could have done it so much more gracefully, while his fame was not yet tarnished by defeat. The place selected by Charles for his retreat was the Jeronymite monastery of Yuste, in Spain, situated at the base of a mountain ridge that traverses the north of Estre- madura. The order of St. Jerome is Spanish in its origin, which dates as far back as the latter part of the fourteenth century. Humble in its beginning, it soon rose, under the patronage of princes, and the benefactions of the pious, to high consideration. Its domains extended over every part of the Peninsula, and its convents, occupying the most picturesque situations, sometimes assumed the aspect, and almost the dimensions, of castellated towns. The growing reputation of the brotherhood kept pace with the pros- perous condition of their fortunes. If in point of scholar- ship they could not boast such names as some other frater- nities, they might challenge a comparison with any for the decorum, and even sanctity, of their lives, for the pomp and splendour of their religious services, and for the munificence with which they dispensed theii' charities to the poor. Fer- dinand the Catholic, by no means prodigal of his money, even towards the church, endowed more than one monas- tery of the order. Charles the Fifth honoured it still fur- ther by selecting Yuste, as we have seen, for the place of his retreat; and Philip the Second distinguished it from every other fraternity by lodging its members in the palace- convent of the Escorial 155G.] AFTER HIS ABDICATION. 501 The community at Yustc was among the most ancient houses of the order, dating from the year 1404. The name, which some writers have incorrectly called St. Just, or St. Justus, was derived from no saint, but from a little stream that gushed from the neighbouring hills. The handful of monks, of which the convent consisted at the beginning, were sorely annoyed by the depredations and insults to which they were exposed from a neigh- bouring monastery of a rival order. They were subse- quently placed by their superior under the protection of the counts of Oropesa, who possessed large patrimonial estates in that quarter of the country. In process of time the little community grew in opulence and strength so as to be able to protect itself. Its broad acres extended far over the cultivated vera ; its convent was surrounded with orange-gardens and orchards; the buildings gradually ex- panded from diminutive cloisters into the ampler dimen- sions required for the accommodation of the increased number of the inmates, and not long before the arrival of Charles had been enlarged by a spacious quadrangle, that displayed the more elegant style of architecture which had been recently introduced from Italy. In the hour of their prosperity the monks of Yuste fully vindicated the reputation for hospitality belonging to their order. Their doors were freely opened to the pilgrim ; their board was bountifully spread for the poor who craved alms at the convent gate ; and the good brethren, to whom long practice had given a skill that almost amounted to science, were never w^eary of administering relief to the sick and the infirm. How Charles came to choose this secluded spot in Estre- madura as the place of his retreat is not very clear. There is no evidence that he had ever seen it. Yet, as he is known to have resided more than once in its neighbourhood, he may possibly have strayed over the beautiful ve7Yi, or at least have gathered such reports of it from those in the 502 LITE OF CHAELES THE FIPTH [book i. country as pleased his fancy. And certainly it was the place of all others best suited to his purpose. Nestling among the dark forests of oak and chestnut that clothed the sides and descended to the lower slopes of the sierra, the convent of Yuste looked down on the cultivated plain which stretched for some leagues in an unbroken expanse towards the city of Plasencia. In the depths of these sylvan solitudes the monarch might indulge in all the luxury of a life of quiet contemplation, while he would not be too far removed from means of intercourse with the world, with which, as we shall see hereafter, he was still, in his retirement, to main- tain a lively sympathy. Charles had obtained a plan from two of the best archi- tects in Spain for the construction of such a dwelling, to be attached to the convent, as should answer for the accom- modation of himself and the few followers who were to accompany him to his retreat. He had advised Philip of his intention to build, and afterwards had directed his son to visit the spot in person and quicken the operations of those who had charge of the work. But it was not in the power either of Charles or Philip to change the laws of nature, or to accelerate the sluggish movements of the Spaniard. More than two years had elapsed ; and, though the plan of the building was extremely simple, the work was far from being completed. The emperor's impatience could brook no further delay. But there was good reason to fear, that, on his arrival at Yuste, the mansion would not be ready for his reception. On the eighth of August, 1556, Charles quitted Brussels, and took his way to the port of Flushing, where a fleet of fifty-six vessels was waiting to escort him and his retinue to Spain. He was accompanied by a number of Flemish lords, some few of whom were to attend him on his voyage. Among these was Florence do JMontniorency, baron of Montigny, the unfortunate nobleman afterwards doomed by his sovereign to an obscure and ignominious death. In 1556.] AFTER HIS ABDICATION. 503 the company were also two sisters of the emperor, the dowager queens of Hungary and Portugal. The former and younger of these, Mary, had lately held the post of regent of the Netherlands, where her vigorous rule had for many years put a cm-b on the free and independent spirit of the people. In her masculine qualities she formed a striking contrast to her amiable sister, the once beautiful Eleanor, the ill-assorted bride of Erancis the First, and, after his death, married to the king of Portugal, whom she had also survived. She was a year older than the emperor, who had always regarded her with peculiar affection, which he intimated, in his correspondence, by usually addressing her as " ma meilleure smir." The royal ladies, who held their brother in the greatest reverence, like him were weary of the world, and wished for the remainder of their days to enjoy the sweets of domestic privacy. They would have accompanied Charles to his place of retirement. But as that could not be, they proposed to seek out some quiet spot in the Peninsula, as little removed as might be from the monastic residence of the emperor. The imperial train was yet further swelled by a consider- able number of followers, who were to be permanently retained in the service of the monarch. The emperor's household had been formed on the splendid model of the Burgundian court. It had consisted of no less than seven hundred and sixty-two persons. Prom these he now selected one hundred and fifty to attend him to Spain, of whom somewhat more than a third were to remain with him at Yuste. Among the number were his major-domo, his phy- sician, his secretaries, his chamberlains, and other function- aries, intimating that, though he had chosen a monastery as the place of his residence, he had no intention of leading the life of a monk. Philip joined his father at Ghent.' There the emperor, ' So says Vandcniessc, in opposition however, ontweighs them all. lie to some other authorities. His name, filled an important office in the house- 504 LIFE OF CHAELES THE FIFTH [book i. tenderly embracing his son, bade him adieu, and left him to assume that burden of sovereignty which had pressed so heavily on his own declining years. Charles continued his way to the coast, where, on the thirteenth of September, he embarked on board the Bertendona, a Biscayan vessel of five hunch-ed and sixty-five tons, which had been fitted up expressly for his accommodation. The emperor's cabin, which was on the upper deck, consisted of two large apart- ments, and two smaller rooms, or cabinets. It was fur- nished with eight windows, which commanded views in every direction. The wood- work was curiously carved, and hung with green drapery. The bed, as well as some of the heavier arm-chaii's, was suspended by ropes from the ceil- ing, that the emperor's gouty limbs might be as little incom- moded as possible by the motion of the vessel. . On the same deck accommodations were provided for some of his principal attendants ; while below, ample space was allotted to the royal kitchen, and to the larder, which was bounti- fully supplied \\4th stores for the voyage. His two sisters, with their retinues, had quarters pre- pared for them in a Flemish vessel. On the thirteenth the fleet weighed anchor, but, encountering a head wind, was detained at Rammekens, where Charles, on the morning of the seventeenth, received a final visit from his son, who had lingered at Ghent. On the afternoon of the same day the fleet took its departure. It was on the seventh of September, 1517, thirty-nine years before this, that Charles had quitted these same shores on a visit to Spain, whither he was going to receive the rich inheritance which had descended to him from his grand- parents, Ferdinand and Isabella the Catholic. He Avas then in the morning of life, just entering on a career as splen- did as ever opened to young ambition. How different must liold of the emperor, and artcrwanls in met willi. My own copy is from a lliat of his son. His work, which is manuscript iu the Imperial Library of a simple itinerary, is si ill in manu- Vicuna, script, and copies of it are not readily 1556.] AFTEU IIIS ABDICATION. 505 have been the reflections which now crowded on his mind, as with wasted health, and spirits sorely depressed, he em- barked on the same voyage ! He had run the race of glory, had won the prize, and found that all was vanity. He was now returning to the goal whence he had started, anxious only to reach some quiet spot where he might lay down his weary limbs and be at rest.^ In passing through the Channel, the course of the fleet was again interrupted by contrary winds. While it lay ofl" Dover, the lord high admiral came out with a squadron of five ships, desirous to pay his respects to the father-in-law of his queen. He was received on board, and permitted to kiss the emperor's hand. A favourable breeze sprung up, as the fleet neared the Isle of Wight, and, continuing to blow for several days, enabled Charles to hold his course without further delay till he reached the coast of Spain. Fortun- ately the propitious state of the weather allowed the emperor to effect his landing without inconvenience, on the twenty- eighth of September, in the ancient port of Laredo. But scarcely had he set foot on shore when the wind freshened into a tempest, which scattered his little navy, compelling the ship bearing the queens to take refuge in the neigh- bouring port of Santander, and doing much damage to some merchant-vessels off" the coast, one of which, with its crew on board, went to the bottom. This disaster is so far embellished by the chroniclers of the time, that, giving a touch of the marvellous to the account, they represent the lost ship to have been the emperor's, and that it went down as soon as he had left it. If this were so, it would be still more marvellous that no allusion to the circumstance should be found in any of the letters — of which we have several — from members of Charles's household while at Laredo. As little do we find mention made of another extraor- dinary circumstance reported by the historians, who tell us that the emperor, on landing, prostrated himself on the ^ I am indebted to Gachard for the su^gestiou of this strikiiiEr coutrast. 506 LITE OF CHARLES THE FIETH [booki. earth, exclaiming, " O thou common mother of mankind, naked came I from thy bosom, and naked I return to it." The incident, however edifying in the moral it may con- vey, has no better foundation than the invention of writers, who, far removed from the scene of action, and ignorant of what really took place there, were willing, by the exhi- bition of startling contrasts, to stimulate the imagination of their readers. Charles, on landing, found his patience put to a severe trial by the scanty preparations made for his reception. An epidemic had broken out on the voyage, which had carried off several of the men, while others remained dan- gerously ill. There were no physicians in Laredo, and scarcely accommodations for the well, much less for the sick. The emperor had directed that six chaplains should be there to meet him. Their spiritual services, in the present state of his followers, were more than ever required. He had expected, moreover, to find a considerable sum of money for the payment of the fleet and for defraying the expenses of the voyage. There was nothing of all this to be seen. The only persons in waiting for him were an alcalde named Durango, with a posse of alguazils, and the bishop of Salamanca. If it had not been for the active exertions of the good prelate, it would have been difficult for the royal party to procure the means of subsistence. Charles gave audible vent to his displeasure at this apparent neglect ; his feelings were exhibited in a manner not to be mistaken in the letters addressed by his orders to Valladolid, where his daughter Joanna, the regent, was holding her court. This neglect of a father who had so recently given all that he had to Philip, has brought imich obloquy on his head. But it Avould seem to be unde- served. On the fourteenth of May he had written to his sister, the regent, informing her of the emperor's speedy return to Spain, and directing her to have everything in readiness for him on his landing. These commands he had 1556.] AFTER IIIS ABDICATION. 507 repeated in a second letter, dated the twenty-sixth of August. He had been particular in his instructions, specifying the six chaplains and the money for the fleet, and enjoining on his sister to make such arrangements as were due to their father's rank, and would best secure his personal comfort. These directions he had repeated yet again in a third letter, written September the eighth, shortly before Charles's embarkation. Philip, at his distance from the scene of action, could do no more. Joanna, on receiving these instructions from her brother, gave orders at once to carry them into effect. But with the procrastinating habits of the Spaniards, it was much easier to command than to execute. Yet some of the blame may be reasonably laid at the emperor's own door, who, had he come earlier, might possibly have found things in a better state of preparation. But he had post- poned the period of his return so often, that the minds of his subjects were unsettled by the delay ; and when at last he did come, they were taken unawares. When Joanna received the letter announcing her father's presence in the country, she at once caused thanks to be offered up in the churches for his safe arrival. At the same time she despatched a messenger to the emperor's major-domo, Don Luis Quixada, then residing on his estate in the neighbourhood of Valladolid, ordering him to proceed with alt expedition to the coast, and make the necessary arrangements for his master's journey to the capital. He was especially to ascertain in what manner her father wished to be received at court, — whether with the honours due to his rank, or simply as a private citizen. As this personage is to occupy a prominent place in the remainder of our narrative, it will be well to acquaint the reader with some particulars of his history. Luis Mendez Quixada belonged to an ancient and honourable family ; but as he was a younger son, the family name was the best part of his inheritance. His first 508 LITE OF CHARLES THE FIFTH [book i. introduction at court was as a page in the imperial housc- hold. He afterwards entered the army, received a com- mission as captain of infantry, and in time rose to the rank of colonel. He followed the emperor to the wars, and distinguished himself on various occasions by his gallantry. He was a strict martinet, and was remarked for the perfect discipline which he maintained among the men under his command. Tlie emperor, with whose acute perception of character the reader has become acquainted, did full justice to the excellent qualities, and especially the trustworthiness and loyal devotion of Quixada. He was appointed one of the three major-domos who formed part of the imperial household. In his new capacity he was brought into frequent intercom'se with his master, who soon bestowed on him more of his confidence than he gave to any other man. At least this is true in one remarkable instance. Charles entrusted to his care his illegitimate son, Don John of Austria, the famous hero of Lepanto, when a child of three years of age, at the same time con- fiding to Quixada the secret of his birth. The major- domo was married to Dona Magdalena de Ulloa, a lady of illustrious lineage, which she graced by virtues so rare as to be commemorated in a special biography, that has expanded into a respectable quarto under the hands of one of her countrymen. Dona IMagdalcna took the boy to her home and her heart, supposing him -the fruit of some early amour of her lord's, previous to his marriage. Quixada did not think proper to undeceive the kind-hearted lady, and faithfully kept tlie perilous secret, which he may have thought was the enqjcror's secret rather than his own. Under her maternal care the young hero, wlio always regarded his foster-mother with grateful affection, was carefully trained in those acconq)lisliments Mdiich fitted him for the brilliant career on which he was after- wards to enter. Quixada was a fine specimen of the old Spanish hidalgo. 1556.] APTER HIS ABDICATION. 509 Proud, punctilious, precise in his notions, he was as nice in the point of honour as any pakulin of romance. He was most orthodox in his creed ; but though a true son of the Church, he had no respect for monks, as he showed rather plainly during his residence at Yuste. His nature was frank and honest; and as he seems to have been somewhat querulous in his temper, he delivered his mind occasionally with a freedom that had in it something less of courtesy than candour. Por the emperor he had the greatest reverence. This did not, however, prevent him from addressing his master at times with a degree of plainness to which the royal ear was but little accustomed. Charles had the good sense not to be displeased with this frankness, for he well knew the sincerity and the strength of Quixada's attachment. He had been, moreover, too long on the throne not to know that truth was the jewel of greatest price, and the one most rarely to be found in the palaces of princes. Once, writing to his son concern- ing his preceptor, Zuiiiga, the emperor remarked, " If he deals plainly with you, it is for the love he bears you. If he were to flatter you, he would be like all the rest of the world, and you would have no one near to tell you the truth ; and a worse thing cannot happen to any one, old or young." When Charles had made up his mind to return to Spain, he settled on Quixada as the most suit- able person to make the arrangements for his journey through the country, and afterwards to take charge of his establishment at Yuste. The result justified his choice. On receiving the regent's letter, the major-domo at once threw himself into his saddle, and posted with all expedi- tion to the coast. Notwithstanding the bad condition of the roads, he performed the jom-ney of fifty-five leagues in something less than three days, making arrangements as he went along for the emperor's reception, Quixada's arrival at Laredo was greeted with joy by the whole party, and by none more than Charles, who 510 LITE OF CHAKLES THE FIETH [booki. seemed to feel that, in the presence of his major-domo, all diflBcidties would speedily vanish. No time, indeed, was lost ; for on the day following, the sixth of October, the emperor and his suite were on the way to Valladolid. As the road frequently passed across rough and hilly tracts of uncultivated country, the emperor travelled in a horse- htter, and over the more difficult passages was borne by his attendants in a chaii'. Quixada rode by his side ; and the rest of his train followed on horseback. A long file of mules, with the baggage, brought up the rear. The van Avas led by the alcalde, Durango, and his posse of alguazils, giving to the w^hole procession, as Quixada thought, much the appearance of a gang of prisoners under the convoy of officers of justice. The two queens, wdth their retinues, followed at the distance of a day's march in the rear, to obviate the annoyance that might arise from the want of accommodations for so large a party. For the greater convenience of Charles, who could ill endure the fatigue of so long a jom*ney, he proceeded by short stages, seldom exceeding four or five leagues in a day. As the cavalcade advanced into the country, and the tidings spread abroad of the emperor's return, great numbers assembled on the route to take their last look at their sovereign. At all the principal places where he halted, he was met by the great lords of the neighbour- hood, and by deputations from the councils and from the authorities of the cities. As he drew near to Burgos, the great constable of Castile, attended by a gallant retinue of folloAvers, came out to meet him. He would fain have persuaded the emperor to allow arrangements to be made by the inhabitants for giving him a solenni reception ; but this he positively declined. The evening had set in before Charles entered the ancient city of the Cid. He was not allowed to do this with the privacy he had desired ; and as he passed through its illuminated streets, the bells of the churches sent forth a merry peal to give him welcome. 1556.] AFTER HIS ABDICATION. 511 He was conducted by the constable to his own mansion, the hereditary halls of the Velascos. While there, the admiral of Castile, the duke of Infantado, and the principal grandees who resided in that quarter, with others, like the duke of Medina Sidonia, and the duke of Medina Coeli, whose estates lay chiefly in the south, came to pay their obeisance to their ancient master. Deputations arrived from the chancery of Valladolid, and from the different cities, bearing loyal addresses from their municipalities. After enjoying for two days the hospitalities of the con- stable, Charles again set forward on his journey. He was attended for some distance by his host ; and Don Frances de Beamonde, at the head of a strong escort, accompanied him the remainder of the way to Valladolid. This arrange- ment gave great satisfaction to Quixada, as it enabled him to dispense with the further attendance of the alcalde and his posse. On the third evening after they had quitted Burgos, the travellers halted at Torquemada, a town pleasantly situated in the midst of a rich and cidtivated country. Here the emperor was met by Don Pedro de la Gasca, bishop of Valencia. This eminent prelate had been entrusted by Charles with an extraordinary mission to the New World, when the rebellion of Gonzalvo Pizarro threatened Spain with the loss of Peru. Gasca, with signal ability and address, succeeded in quashing the insurrection, in defeat- ing its leaders and bringing them to punishment, and, finally, in reclaiming the tottering allegiance of the inha- bitants, thus securing to Castile the fairest of her colonies. In return for these services he had been raised by Charles to the see of Valencia. On learning his sovereign's ap- proach, the good bishop sent a liberal supply of poultry, fruit, and wine, for the refreshment of the royal party, and on the following morning came in person to pay his homage to the emperor. At Cabezon, a place about two leagues from Valladolid, 512 LIFE OF CHARLES THE IIETH [book I. Charles had the satisfaction of meeting his grandson, the infant Don Carlos, that unfortunate prince, "whose brief but disastrous career forms so melancholy a page in the chro- nicles of the time. The boy, who was then eleven years old, had been sent from Valladolid to meet his grandfather. One may well believe that it was with no little interest that Charles regarded his descendant, the heir to the monarchy. He had Carlos to sup with him at his own table ; and as the lad showed much curiosity in regard to military affairs, the emperor entertained him with an account of his cam- paigns. When he described his flight from Inspruck, Carlos exclaimed, " I never would have fled." His grand- father endeavoured to convince him of the necessity of flight in order to avoid falling into the enemy's hands. But the boy only repeated, with more earnestness than before, " / never would have fled," — greatly to the delight of the emperor, who saw in this the mettle of his own earlier days. But the penetrating eye of Charles was not slow in dis- cerning other traits in his grandson's character, which filled him with apprehension. " He seems very restless," said the emperor ; '^ neither his behaviour nor his temper pleases me. I know not what is to become of him." The young prince was much taken with a little portable stove, which his grandfather carried with him, in default of fire-places, to warm his apartment. Carlos would wiUingly have ap- })ropriated this article to himself ; but the emperor gave him to understand that this could not be till he was dead. The care of the prince's education had been entrusted to his aunt, the regent. Charles, when he saw his daughter in Valladolid, plainly told her that " if she showed less indulgence to the child, the nation would have more reason to thank her." Along the route by which the emperor travelled, people had assembled in great nmnbers to see him pass. There were two roads from Cabczon, by Avliich the capital was to 1556.] AFTER HIS ABDICATION. 513 be approaclicd. One was more retired tlian the other ; and some of Charles's suite, knowing his aversion to crowds, would fain have persuaded him to take it. He determined to do so, when the honest Quixada represented " that it would not he right to hide himself from his loyal subjects, who wished to look on him for the last time." The major-domo prevailed ; but Charles would by no means consent that preparations should be made for giving him a public reception in Valladolid. This might be done, he said, for his two sisters, who accordingly made their en- trance in great state into the capital, escorted by a brave procession of nobles and cavaliers, headed by the authorities of the city. Valladolid was at this time, as indeed it had been for many years, the residence of the court. In this pre- eminence it had succeeded Toledo, the ancient capital of the Visigoths. It was not till the reign of Philip the Second that it lost this distinction, and the seat of government was transferred to Madrid, which thenceforth became the permanent capital of the monarchy. Valladolid was at this time, therefore, in the zenith of its glory, embellished with stately public buildings, and filled with the palaces of the great nobles, who naturally sought a residence in the neighbourhood of the court. Charles was received in the most lovinsj and dutiful manner by his daughter, who conducted him to the mansion of Ruy Gomez de Silva, Philip's favourite minister. This the emperor preferred to taking up his quarters in the royal palace, which was consequently assigned to his sisters. He spent some time in the fair city, enjoying the society of his daughter, and recruiting his strength after the fatigues of his journey. During his stay his house was thronged with visitors, among whom we find some of the principal grandees, and such of the prelates as were at the court. These attentions were the more grateful to Charles, since, now that he had resigned the sceptre, they carried with VOL. II. L L 514 LIFE OF CHARLES THE FIFTH [book i. them tlie appearance of being rendered to tlie man rather than to the monarch. The members of the council, the corregidor, and the mmiicipahty obtained an audience of their ancient master, and were permitted to kiss his hand. To all he showed that gracious deportment M'hich he knew so well how to assume, and which contrasted strongly with the impassible reserve — the sosie^o, as the Spaniards term it — which had so chilling an eflfect on those who were admitted to the presence of his son. The ladies of the court, who came to take leave of him, were received by Charles with the same distinguished courtesy. It was on one of these occasions that Perico de Sant Erbas, one of that privileged class of fools, or rather wits, who in ancient times were the necessary appendage of a court, happening to pass across the saloon, Charles, in a merry vein, touched his cap to him. " You arc welcome," said the jester ; " do you raise yom- hat to me because you are no longer emperor?" " No, Pedro," replied Charles; " but because I have nothing but this poor courtesy to give you." Among those who waited on the monarch were three of the brethren from Yuste, and at their head the general of the order. The good father acquainted him with the pro- gress that had been made in the works at Yuste. lie assured him, moreover, of the great satisfaction felt by the fraternity that his majesty should have condescended to choose their abode as the place of his retreat. With the assistance of these monks, Charles was enabled to select from the different convents of the order such individuals as were best qualified to conduct the service of the chapel, as well as those whose piety and learning fitted them to officiate as his preachers, — persons, in short, who might form what may be called the religious part of his estab- lishment. During liis stay at Valladolid, the emperor attended to tlui d(;spatch of some important affairs of a public nature. lie liad daily communication with his daughter, and gave 1550.] APTEU HIS ABDICATION. 5I5 her the benefit of his large experience in administering the government of the kingdom. It Avas evident that, if he was wilHng to follow the example of Diocletian in withdrawing from the world, he had no mind, like that monarch, to divorce himself from the great interests of humanity. After prolonging his stay for a fortnight in Valladolid, Charles prepared to resume his journey. On the fourth of November he consented, for the last time, to the ceremony of dining in public. On that same afternoon he took an affectionate leave of his daughter and his grandson, and of his two sisters, who were to accompany him no farther. He was attended by a large train of nobles and cavaliers to the gates of the city, where he courteously dismissed them, though many would gladly have followed him on his route. He accepted, however, the escort of a small body of mounted horsemen and forty halberdiers, who were to continue with him till he arrived at Yuste. In quitting Valladolid, Charles seemed to turn his back for ever on the pomps and glories of the world, and in the separation from his family to sever the last tie which bound him to life. He travelled in a litter, and by easy stages, as before. The second night he passed at the ancient town of Medina del Campo, famous as the spot which witnessed the last hours of the greatest and best of his ancestral line, Isabella the Catholic. He did not, however, occupy the royal residence, which probably had not been made more comfortable by age, but took up his quarters for the night with a wealthy banker, named Rodrigo de Dueiias. This person, whether to display his riches, or to do honour to his illustrious guest, had the emperor's apartment warmed by a brazier of solid gold, which, instead of the usual fuel, was fed with sticks of cinnamon. The perfume of the cinnamon was disagreeable to Charles, who, when he went away on the following morning, in order to rebuke the ostentation of his host, would not permit him to kiss his hand, and caused him, moreover, to be paid for the night's lodging, like any LL 2 516 LITE OF CHARLES THE FIFTH [booki. ordinary innkeeper. Yet Charles gave no such sign of displeasure at the similar compliment which he had once received from the Fuggers, the famous bankers of Germany. On his return from his memorable expedition against Tunis, for which they had advanced him considerable sums of money, Charles spent the night at their house at Augsburg ; and his hosts filled the brazier in his chamber, in like manner, with cinnamon. But to show their gratitude for the service the emperor had rendered Christendom in breaking up the nest of Barbary pirates, they threw Charles's receipts for the money they had lent him into the fire, which so far qualified the odour of the cinnamon that it gave no offence to the royal nostrils. As the travellers penetrated farther into the interior, and left the great world behind them, Charles felt in anticipation all the luxury of the retirement to which he was hastenhig. " Heaven be praised ! " he exclaimed, " after this no more visits of ceremony, no more receptions ! " Their route lay in a southerly direction ; but, as it wound round the base of the mountain range that, in its course from east to west, traverses the central parts of the Peninsula, the keen air chilled the emperor, who, from his delicate temperament, was extremely sensitive to cold. As the luxury of fireplaces was a thing unknown in these parts, he was obliged to keep himself warm by means of his portable stove. Every- where along the route the people gave all the proofs in their power of the most loyal devotion. They aided his progress by clearing away the obstacles in the road, which became worse and worse as it was farther removed from the great highways of the country. They knew Charles's tastes ; and they searched the streams for trout, eels, and other fish, of which he was extremely fond, and with which his table was liberally supplied whenever he halted. On the twelfth of November, the emperor reached Tornavacas, a small place near the northern confines of Estremadura. It was separated by a bold sierra from tlie 1556.] APTER UIS ABDICATION. 517 Vera, or Valley, of Plasencia, on the border of wliich stood the monastery which was the object of Charles's pilgrimage. The Vera was to be approached in two ways. One was by scaling the mountain barrier that separated it from Tornavacas. This might be done in a few hours ; but the road, if so it could be called, which was little more than a path affording means of communication for the peasantry of the neighbourhood, was rugged and precipitous. A more easy way would lead the travellers along the winding Xerte to the city of Plasencia, from which the route lay across a smooth and level plain, that stretched nearly to the walls of Yuste. This, however, would add four days to the journey ; and Charles, wearied with his long protracted travel, determined, with characteristic energy, to brave the dangers of the mountain. Early on the following morning he began the ascent, which was quite as formidable as it had been represented. Fortunately, he was assisted by the peasantry, who were familiar with the route. A band of these hardy rustics went before, armed with pikes, shovels, and other instru- ments, to clear away the rubbish in the path. The moun- tain-sides had been cut into deep gullies by the winter torrents, which had swept down large fragments of trees from the forests above, and occasionally laid bare a huge splinter of the rock, that seemed to defy all farther progress. The narrow path, winding round the edge of dizzy preci- pices, afforded a precarious foothold, where a single. false step might be fatal to the traveller. It was a formidable adventure even for the unencumbered pedestrian, and Avas rendered the more difficult, in the present instance, by the helpless condition of the emperor. The peasants relieved the attendants of their royal bm-den, which might have proved too much for them. They succeeded one another in the task of bearing the litter; while the faithful Quixada, armed with his long pike, strode by its side, and gave general directions for conducting the operations. In the 518 LITE OF CHAHLES THE FIFTH [book i. worst parts of the road, the emperor was obhged to be borne in his chair ; and occasionally the sturdy rustics carried him in their arms. At length, after some hours of excessive toil, the party reached the most elevated point of their route; and, as they emerged from the dark defiles of the Puerto Nuevo, — since called " The Emperor's Pass," — he exclaimed, " It is the last pass I shall go through in this world, save that of death." The descent was comparatively easy; and Charles's eyes were soon gladdened by the sight of the beautiful Vera and its bright carpet of verdure, which had not yet begun to fade under the cold touch of autumn. An occa- sional hamlet, glistening in the distance, relieved the mibroken character of the expanse, terminated on the west by the stately city of Plasencia. Nearer by several leagues might be dimly discried the gray walls of Yustc, half hidden among the groves of chestnut which fringed the skirts of the sierra. As Charles's dwelling was not yet fit for his reception, it was decided that he should remain for the present at Jarandilla, a village two leagues east of Yuste, where there was a castle belonging to the count of Oropesa, a noble- man who, as akeady mentioned, had large estates in the neighbourhood. It Avas a lordly pile, the ruins of which are yet to be seen ; while the emperor's temporary residence there is commemorated by a fountain in the garden which still bears his name. Charles met with the most hospitable reception from its loyal master, who had prepared for his accommodation a spacious apartment, with a pleasant aspect towards the south, looking down upon a garden of citron and orange- trees. Tlio weather was fine ; and, notwithstanding the fatigues of the day, the cinpcror, pleased with the spot, was in excellent spirits. In the midst of this fine weather at Jarandilla, the Flemings could sec, from the windows of 1556 ] AFTER HIS ABDICATION. 519 the castle, dense masses of vapour, rolling lazily along the sides of the mountain Avhere Yustc was situated. Soon the cool nights of autumn began to make themselves felt. The emperor, accustomed to the use of fireplaces in Flanders, exchanged his apartment for one where he had caused a chimney to be made. Soon afterwards, the count of Oropesa, surrendering his castle entirely to the use of his royal guest, withdrew to another residence on a distant quarter of his estates. As winter approached, the rainy season set in. The streets of Jarandilla were saturated with water ; and the poor major-domo with difficulty waded through the mire in the performance of his duties, which required him to provide for the accommodation of the imperial retinue. To add to his vexation, the village was but scantily provided with the means of supporting so large and unexpected an addition to its usual population. The querulous tone of Quixada's letters shows the perplexities of his situation. Yet it was impossible for Charles to abridge the number of his retinue until he was supplied with the means of paying their arrears by a remittance from Valladolid. The emperor's household cast many a rueful glance at the damp and desolate spot which he had selected for his abode; where the constant humidity of the atmosphere, they argued, boded no good to the infirmities of their master. Quixada did not hesitate to intimate as much to him. But the emperor answered, that, "in all parts of Spain where he had been, he had found that it was cold and rainy in the winter." The major-domo and the secretary, Gaztelu, unbosomed themselves more freely in their correspondence with the secretary of state at Valladolid. They vented their dis- content in the most doleful prognostics of the influence of such a climate on the emperor's constitution, speaking, at the same time, in no very flattering terms of the accommo- dations provided for him at the convent, and of the 520 LITE OF CHARLES THE FIFTH [book i. cliaracter of its inmates. They requested tliat their com- plaints might not reach the ears of the regent; but in some ^yay or other the emperor's family became so far persuaded of their truth, that his sister, the queen of Hungary, wrote to beg him not to take up his residence at Yuste. Charles, though somewhat annoyed by this inter- ference with his plans, good-humouredly wrote in answer, that " the lion was not so terrible as he was painted." It is strange that those who knew him so well should have thought so easily to turn him from his purpose. Slow, to an uncommon degree, in deciding on his measures, when these had been once settled, no power on earth was strong enough to make him change them. He was aware of this trait in his character, and once spoke of it to the Venetian, Contarini. The courtly envoy observed, it was not obstinacy to adhere to sound opinions, " True," replied Charles ; " but I sometimes adhere to those which are unsound." Towards the latter part of November, he availed himself of a day somewhat more propitious than usual to cross over to Yuste, and examine the condition of the works with his own eyes. He professed to be well pleased with the appearance of the place, and with the arrangements for his accommodation. He even gave directions to provide for more than double the number of persons he had originally designed to lodge there ; and when Brother Roger, to whom the charge of making the arrangement was entrusted, ventured to suggest the impossibility of providing accommodations for so large a number, Charles silenced him by telling him "to do as he was bid, and not give his opinion in the matter." Charles's household came at length to comprehend that remonstrances, from what- ever quarter, would have no effect to turn him from his purpose. " The emperor Avill never change his purpos(^," wrote the desponding secretary, " though heaven and earth should come together." 155G.] AFTER HIS ABDICATION. 521 The rain now continued to fall without intermission, and with a degree of violence exceeding anything that the Spaniards had seen in other parts of the country. "As much water falls here in a single hour," wrote Quixada, " as in a whole day in Valladolid ; in Yustc they tell ine it is still worse." The secretary's report is not better. " The fogs," he writes, "are so thick, that one cannot dis- tinguish a man twenty paces distant." The emperor, who during the fine weather had strolled out for exercise, and occasionally amused himself with his fowling-piece, was now imprisoned in his apartment, and could only keep him- self warm by sitting in the chimney-corner, rolled up in his robe of eider-down, which had been sent to him by his daughter Joanna. Here he would sit, and listen greedily to the despatches which came from Brussels or ValladoHd. Spain was at that time engaged in a war with Paul the Fourth, a pontiff who, emulating the belligerent spuit of Julius the Second, converted his crosier into a sword, and vowed to drive the barbarians out of Italy. Charles listened with the deepest interest to the accounts furnished him from time to time of the war, and of the victorious career of the duke of Alva. When Gaztelu had finished reading, he would ask, " Is there nothing more ? " But when he heard of the truce made by the Spanish com- mander at the very time when the fate of Rome seemed to hang upon his sword, Charles's indignation knew no bounds. He would not so much as listen to the terms of the treaty, as his secretary tells us. " It was only giving time to the French," he said, " to unite their forces with those of the pope ;" muttering other things between his teeth, not easy to be understood. He delivered his mind freely on the subject, in his letters both to Philip and Joanna. When the French war soon after broke out, he wrote in the most pressing manner to his daughter, urging the necessity of placing the frontiers, especially Navarre, in the best state 522 LIFE OF CHARLES THE FIFTH [book i. of defence. He admonished her to strengthen the fleet on the coasts, to pay ofi* the debt due to the German bankers, that the credit of the country, so important at such a crisis, might be maintained, and to provide for the security of the African possessions, — for that of Oran, in particuL^r, which, with a prophetic eye, he pointed out as a probable place of attack ; " and were this to be lost," he added, " I should desire not to be in Spain, nor the Indies, nor anywhere on earth where tidings of an event so disastrous to the king and to the monarchy could ever reach me." It was clear that Charles, if he had withdrawn from the world, was not weaned from a lively interest in whatever touched the welfare of the country. On this and other occasions, he was ready to fortify the inexperience of his successor by those lessons of practical wisdom which had gained for him the reputation of being the shrewdest prince in Christendom. Philip often invited the emperor's interference in his concerns ; and, to do him justice, he seems to have shown the same deference to the opinions and wishes of his father in retirement, that he had shown to him in the fulness of his power, when his wishes were commands. The tedium of Charles's confinement to the house was occasionally relieved by the visits which he consented to receive from some of the nobles resident in the neighbour- hood, who were desirous to pay their respects to him. The count of Oropesa, and his brother, who had been viceroy of Peru, were constant in their attentions. He found par- ticular pleasure in a visit from Don Luis de Avila y Zufiiga, grand commander of the order of Alcantara. This remark- able man, after a long and successful career in public life, had come to pass the evening of his days at his princely residence in Plasencia. In his youth he had accompanied the emperor to the wars, and had fought by his aide at Tunis and in the German campaigns, where he had achieved a high military reputation. Jle had subsequently 1556.] AFTER HIS ABDICATION. 523 served his master in a diplomatic capacity, and been en- trusted by him with the conduct of some important negotiations. Finally, ambitious of gracing the trophies he had won both as a soldier and a statesman with the laurels of authorship, he wrote a history of the campaigns against the Protestants in Germany, in which he had him- self performed so distinguished a part. The work was so successful that it passed through several editions in his lifetime, and was translated into various European lan- guages. Charles showed the greatest kindness to his old companion in arms, whose presence may well have recalled to the emperor the proud days of his military renown, when victory was sure to Avait upon his banner. And we may imagine that the conversation of the old campaigners must have turned much more on the stirring scenes of early life, than on the sober, contemplative themes better suited to the character of the recluse. Such themes formed a fitter topic for discussion with another of Charles's visitors, whom in younger days he had honoured with his friendship. This was the celebrated Francisco de Borja, formerly duke of Gandia, now a humble member of the Society of Jesus. Born in the highest rank of the Spanish aristocracy, he had early shown himself to be possessed of those refined and elegant accom- plishments which in a rough age are less frequently to be found than the talents of the soldier or the statesman. But these talents also he possessed in an eminent degree. Charles, quick to discern merit in the meanest of his subjects, was not likely to be blind to it in one whose birth placed him in so conspicuous a position ; and he testified his confidence in Borja by raising him to offices of the highest trust and consideration. But although the latter fully justified his sovereign's favour by the ability with which he filled these offices, his heart Avas not in his business. An intense devotional feeling had taken pos- session of his soul. He became weary of the world and its 524 LIFE OF CHAELES THE FIFTH [book i. vanities, and be proposed to abjure tbem, and to dedicate the remainder of liis bfe to tbe great work of bis salvation. With his master's consent, at the age of thirty-seven he resigned bis ducal title and his large possessions to bis eldest son, and entered tbe Society of Jesus, which, then in its infancy, had given slender augury of tbe magnificent fortunes that awaited it. Here the austerity of bis life, tbe generous sacrifice be bad made of worldly honours, and the indefatigable zeal which he displayed in carrying out tbe objects of the institution, gained him a reputation for sanctity that fell little short of that of Ignatius Loyola himself, the founder of tbe Jesuits. In time be became general of tbe order, being tbe third who filled that post ; and there was probably no one of its members who did more to establish the reputation of tbe society, or to open tbe way to that pre-eminence which it afterwards enjoyed among tbe religious communities of Christendom. Borja was at this time in the neighbourhood of Plascncia, where he was employed in superintending the establishment of a college for his order. On learning from the count of Oropesa that the emperor would be glad to see him, he instantly repaired to Jarandilla. When Father Francis " tbe Sinner" — for that was the humble name he had assumed — presented himself before Charles, be showed that bis present way of life bad not effaced from bis memory tbe courtly observances of earlier days. He knelt down before the emperor, and in that attitude would have addressed him ; but the monarch, raising Borja up, would not listen to him till be was both seated and covert^d. As the interview was private, we have no authentic account of tbe conversation that followed. It is said to have related chiefly to tbe character and circumstances of the new society which Borja bad entered. Tbe selection bad not met with bis master's approbation. Charles bad seen tbe bumble beginnings of an order in which his eye did not detect the seeds of future greatness. With tbe conservative feelings natural 1556.] ATTER HIS ABDICATION. 525 to a monarch and an old man, he was no friend to innovation. The institution of the Jesuits had taken place at a time when the Chm-ch of Rome was trembling under the batte- ries of Luther. Its avowed purpose was to uphold the sinking fortunes of the papacy, but Charles, bigot as he was at heart, did not look at the new order with a more favourable eye, that it came forward as the spiritual militia of the pope. More than once he had been at feud with the court of Rome ; and Spain was at this very moment engaged in a war with the Vatican. He would wilhngly have persuaded Borja to leave the Jesuits and attach him- self to the Jeronymites, among whom he was to establish his own residence. His visitor went into a full discussion of the matter. He stated to the emperor the grounds of his preference, and explained at great length the principles on which the society had been organized, and the great objects it proposed. In the end, if he did not convert his auditor to his own way of thinking, which was hardly to be expected, he seems to have so far reconciled him to the course which he had adopted for himself, that Charles desisted from any further attempt to make him change it. Borja remained three days at Jarandilla, passing most of his time in the emperor's apartment. When he took his leave, the unusual compliment was paid him of being invited to repeat his visit after the emperor had removed to Yuste. We may readily conceive that the monarch must have taken much comfort in the society of one whose situation, in many respects, bore a strong resemblance to his own. For, like his master, Borja had resigned fortune, fame, exalted rank, all that men most covet, that he might dedicate the remainder of his days to Heaven. He had not, however, waited, like Charles, till disease and disaster had weaned him from the world, but carried his plans into execution in the freshness of life, in the hour of ambition, when the race of glory yet remained to be run. 526 LIFE OF CHARLES THE FIFTH [book i. It was not altogether in the refined and intellectual plea- sures of reading and social intercourse that Charles passed the time of his confinement. He had brought with him into retirement the same relish for the pleasures of the table which he had indulged through life. His appetite was excessive, rivalling that of Louis the Fourteenth or Frederic the Great, or any other royal gourmand whose feats are recorded in history. The pertinacity with which he gratified it under all cii'cumstances amounts to a trait of character. A Venetian envoy at his court, in the latter part of Charles's reign, tells us that, before rising in the morning, potted capon was usually served to him, prepared with sugar, milk, and spices ; after which he would turn to sleep again. At noon he dined on a variety of dishes. Soon after vespers he took another meal, and later in the evening supped heartily on anchovies, or some other gross and savomy food, of which he was particularly fond. The invention of his cooks was sorely puzzled how to de- vise rich and high-seasoned dishes to suit his palate ; and his maitre d'hotel, much perplexed, told his discontented master one day, knowing his passion for time-pieces, that " he really did not know what he could do, unless it were to serve up his majesty a fricassee of watches." The reply had the effect of provoking a hearty laugh from the emperor, — a circumstance of rare occurrence in the latter days of liis reign. To wash down this extraordinary quantity of food, Charles drank .in proportion. Iced beer was a favourite beverage with him, administered often the first thing on rising in the morning. When stronger potations were required, he had no objection to Rhenish wine. Roger Ascham, when in Germany, saw the emperor on St. An- drew's day, sitting at dinner at the feast of the Golden Fleece. " He drank the best," says Ascham, " that I ever saw. He had his head in the glass five times as long as any of us, and never drank less than a good quart at once of Ivlienish." It was in vain that his physician rcmon- 1556.] AFTER HIS ABDICATION. 527 strated, and that liis confessor, Cardinal Loaysa, with an independence which did him credit, admonished him to desist from the pernicious practice of eating and drinking to excess, reminding him that his Creator had not sent him into the worhl to indulge in sensual delights, but by his diligent labours to save the Christian commonwealth. Charles gave as little heed to the warnings of the divine as to those of the doctor. Unfortunately, his position enabled him too easily to obtain a dispensation from those fasts of the Church which might otherwise have stood him in good stead. In the end came the usual heavy reckoning for such indulgence. He was tormented with indigestion, bile, gout, and various other maladies that flesh — especially when high-fed and over-fed — is heir to. The gout was the most formidable of his foes. Its attacks were incessant. The man who had followed the chase without fatis-ue amons: the roughest passes of the Alpujarras, who had kept the saddle day and night in his campaigns, and had been esteemed one of the best jousters in Europe, was obliged at length, whenever he travelled, to be borne in a litter, like a poor cripple. Care and excessive toil had combined with his intemperate way of life to break down a constitu- tion natm'ally robust ; and, before he had reached the age of fifty, Charles was already an old man. The same mischievous propensities accompanied him to his monastic retreat. In the almost daily correspondence between Quixada, or Gaztelu, and the secretary of state at Valladolid, there is scarcely a letter that does not turn more or less on the emperor's eating or his illness. The one seems natm'ally to follow, like a running commentary, on the other. It is rare that such topics have formed the burden of communications with the department of state. It must have been no easy matter for the secretary to pre- serve his gravity in the perusal of despatches in which politics and gastronomy were so strangely mixed together. The courier from Valladolid to Lisbon was ordered to make 528 LITE OF CHAELES THE FIFTH [book i a detour^ so as to take Jaraiidilla in his route, and bring supplies for the royal table. On Thursdays he was to bring fish to serve for the jour maigre that was to follow. The trout in the neighbourhood Charles thought too small ; so others, of a larger size, were to be sent from Valladolid. Fish of every kind was to his taste, as, indeed, was any- thing that in its natiue or habits at all approached to fish. Eels, frogs, oysters, occupied an important place in the royal bill of fare. Potted fish, especially anchovies, found great favour with him ; and he regretted that he had not brought a better supply of these from the Low Countries. On an eel-pasty he particularly doated. Good supplies of these savoury abominations were fm-nished, from time to time, from the capital, by his daughter, who thus made amends for the remissness which, according to Gaztelu, she had shown in supplying the emperor's table on his journey through the country. Soles, lampreys, flounders, came in great quantities from Seville and Portugal. The country round Jarandilla fmiiished the jneces de resistance, in the form of pork and mutton, for the emperor's table. Game also was to be had in abundance. He had a lively recol- lection, however, of some partridges, from a place belonging to the count of Ossorno, formerly sent to him in Flanders. The major-domo ordered some to be procured from the same quarter now. But Charles remarked " they did not taste now as they had formerly tasted." The olives of Estremadura were too large and coarse for his liking. Repeated directions were given to procure a supply from Percjon, the trader who had furnished some of a smaller and more delicate kind, and to obtain from him, if possible, the receipt for pickling them. One might have thought that the land of pork, in which, as we have seen, Charles was living, would be that of sausages ; but he had not forgotten those whicli his mother, " now in glory," was in the habit of having made for herself in Tordesillas. There the secretary of state was directed to apply for some. In 1556.] APTEll HIS ABDICATION. 529 case he failed in that quarter, he couhl easily obtain a receipt for making them from the kitchen of the mar(|uis of Denia. Unfortunately, as the major-domo laments, the sausages did not reach Jarandilla till Thursday night ; and, as they could not by any construction come into the cate- gory of fish, the emperor was obliged to defer lii;^ addresses to them for four and twenty hours at least ; possibly much longer, as the next letter records a sharp attack of gout. The nobles in the vicinity, who knew Charles's weak side, sent him constantly presents of game and vegetables. The churchmen were equally attentive. The prior of Our Lady of Guadalupe, the archbishop of Saragossa, the bishop of Plasencia, and the archbishop of Toledo, were liberal in their contributions ; the last prelate sending a caravan of mules laden with provisions for the supply of the emperor and his suite. The duchesses of Bejar and Frias, who lived in that quarter, testified their devotion to their ancient lord by presents of sweetmeats, confectionery, or some little orna- ment or article of dress. Among the presents received from the latter lady were some delicate gloves, then a greater rarity than now. Charles, casting a glance at his gouty fingers, remarked that " the duchess should have sent him hands to wear them." Quixada, who had complained of the scantiness of supplies on his first arrival at Jarandilla, as they now poured in so abundantly, drew the most doleful auguries of the effects on his master, who, in his present state of inactivity, might be thought hardly capable of meeting even the ordinary drafts on his constitution. But remonstrance, as the major-domo plaintively wrote to Valladolid, was of no avail. The result justified his prognostics. On the twenty-seventh of December Charles had a severe fit of gout, which, beginning with his right hand and arm, soon extended to the neck, then to the left arm and hand, and then to the knees, until, in fine, crippled in all his limbs, unable so much as to feed himself, the emperor took VOL. II. M M 530 LITE OF CHARLES THE FIFTH [book i to his bed, ATliere he lay several days in great torment. He resorted to his usual remedies, — his barley-water, his yelks of eggs, and his senna-wine. This last nostrum was made of a decoction of senna that had been steeped for some months in a light wine of excellent quality. Indeed, the process took a year for its completion. This beverage he considered as possessed of such singular virtue, that he had ordered the receipt for it to be forwarded from Flanders to the secretary of state at Valladolid, under whose care the preparation was to be made. But it could not save him from other troubles ; and, while the gout was still on him, he had an attack of fever and ague, attended by a sore throat that rendered him almost incapable of taking nourish- ment. This had one good effect, however ; and Quixada comforted his master by telling him that " the best way to cure the gout was to keep the mouth shut." The emperor's physician was a young man ; and his daughter, the regent, sent him her oavu, as older and more experienced, to advise with him. Another of the faculty was also added from Italy, a man of some repute for the treat- ment of the disorders to which Charles was subject. He undertook to relieve the emperor of his gout ; but he did not find his patient so tractable as could be wished. The Italian's first, very reasonable injunction was, that he should give up his iced beer. But the emperor plainly told him " he would do no such thing." The doctor then remon- strated against the climate of Yuste, as altogether too damp. Charles intimated that he could leave it when he liked, saying that " he had not yet taken the vows." Quixada seems to have had an indifferent oj)inion of the doctor's skill, and perhaps of that of the faculty in general : for he remarked that " the emperor, if he chose, could })rcscribc for himself better than any one else could." Happily his master's condition compelled him to resort to that absti- nence which was the only effectual remedy. Yet we can hardly accuse him of pushing this to an extreme, when we 1557.] APTER HIS ABDICATION. 531, find him, on his waking at three in the morning, swallowing a bason of capon-brotli. The first attack of gout Avas followed by a second, in the month of January, 1557. It was said to have been imme- diately caused by Charles's vexation at the news above referred to from Italy. It was not so severe, or of so long duration as the preceding. As the symptoms grew more favourable, and the gout gradually subsided, the spirits of the sick man rallied, and he regaled himself with an omelette of sardines, and some other savoury messes, greatly to the dismay of the major-domo, who, in his report to the secre- tary of state, declares that " it was no fault of his ; for any attempt to reason his master out of his passion for fish was but labour lost." Charles had now prolonged his stay three months at Jarandilla. Meantime the buildings at Yuste were so nearly completed as to be ready for his reception. The monks were impatient for his coming. " If the emperor should not go, after all, they would hang theiiiselves," wrote the secretary, Gaztelu. " Yet," he says, " for myself, I shall never believe that he will go till I have seen it." The fact is, that Charles was detained at Jarandilla by the want of funds to pay off those of his household who v/ere not to accompany him to Yuste. Tor this he had required from Valladolid thirty thousand ducats. Weeks elapsed without the remittance of a single ducat ; and the royal exchequer was reduced so low, that Quixada was obliged to advance a hundred reals from his own pocket to defray the expenses of the establishment. At length, twenty-six thousand ducats were sent. But Charles would not move till he had received the full amount. Yet no blame for this remissness seems to have been imputed to the regent. The emperor had learned from his own experience, that it was not always easy for a king of Spain, with the Indies at his command, to procure the necessary supplies for his own household. JI M 2 532 LIFE OF CHARLES THE FIFTH [booki. At length tlic remittances came. Qiiixada was enabled to discharge all arrears. Arrangements were made for sending back such of the retinue as were not to accompany their master to Yuste ; and the regent was requested to charter the vessels to convey them to Flanders. Out of more than a hundred and fifty retainers who had followed Charles to Jarandiha, between fifty and sixty only were reserved for his establishment at Yuste. The selection w^as attended with some difficulty. Several of the principal Flemings, whom their lord would have retained in his ser- vice, were not disposed to remain with him. They had no mind to give up their native land and their hopes of court preferment, in order to bury themselves in a convent of monks in the wnlds of Estremadura. They knew, more- over, the parsimonious temper of their master too well to count upo]i any remuneration that would compensate for the sacrifices they must make. " They bear little love to us," writes Quixada ; " it goes to my heart to hear them talk of the long and faithful services they have rendered, and of the poor return they have received, or expect to receive, for them," It fared not much better with those who were to remain with the emperor. It was Quixada's business to notify them of their salaries, and of the provision which their master had made for them after his decease. " The same thing happened in this case," writes the major-domo, " that usually happens. Some were more contented with what had been done for them than others. No one Avas altogether satisfied ; and I least of all, that I should find myself in so disagreeable a business, and be obliged to tell things to one and another which tliey liked as little to hear as I to say." Charles, however, might derive some satis- faction from the reflection that, as mercenary motives were excluded, those who remained in his service must have done so for the love they bore him. Indeed, if not i\ generous, he was a kind master ; and the courtesy of his 1557.] AETER- HIS ABDICATION. 533 manners, and liis considerate regard for his dependants, were such as to inspire thoin with a strong feeling of loyal attachment, independently of the reverence in which they naturally held him. This was especially true of the Flem- ings, in whom the sentiment of loyalty was heightened by the circumstance that the emperor was their own country- man, — having been born in Ghent. When, therefore, they assembled round his door, preparatory to his departure, and listened for the last time to the kind accents that fell from his lips, there were few among them who were not melted to tears. In short, — to borrow the words of Mignet, — the regret of those who were to be for ever separated from their master was only to be equalled by the sorrow of those who were to be buried with him in the Jeronymite convent. On the third of February, at three in the afternoon, the emperor, followed by his retinue, took leave of the hospi- table walls of the lord of Oropesa. He was carried, as usual, in a horse litter, his noble host and the trusty major-domo riding by his side. As he passed through the files of halberdiers drawn up before the castle, they threw their pikes on the ground, in token that their service was ended. The cavalcade proceeded across the valley, and more slowly climbed the slopes of the mountain, shaggy with woods, which the winter winds had long since stripped of their foliage. As they drew near to Yuste, the sound of the convent bells ringing merrily came through the woods. The brethren were assembled in the church, which was decorated in the gayest manner, as for a festival ; and the gathering shadows of evening were dispelled by numerous tapers, with which the chapel was illuminated. As the emperor entered the outer gates, the whole body of the monks, forming a procession, with the prior bearing a crucifix at their head, came forward, chant- ing the Te Deum, to welcome their royal guest to his new abode. Charles, alighting from his litter, and accompanied 534 LITE OF CHARLES THE EIETH. [book t. by the count of Oropesa and by Quixada, was borne in a chair by his attendants to the foot of the high ahar. Here he remained, absorbed in his devotions, till the service was concluded, and the last tones of the organ had died away. He then courteously received the salutations of the brother- hood, who gathered round him, addressing a kind word to each of the monks, as thev came forward to kiss his hand. The prior, somewhat embarrassed by the august presence into wdiich he was now brought, in a complimentary speech addressed Charles by the title of '' paternidacV/ which the good father hastily corrected, as one of the brethren, in a whisper, suggested the propriety of " ma^estad." This ceremony being concluded, the emperor had suf- ficient strength to go through the monastery, as well as every part of his own mansion, to examine the accommoda- tions for his followers, and finally to be carried in his arni- chaii- to the little hermitage of Bethlehem, in the woods, at the distance of two bow-shots from the convent. He was in good spirits, professing himself pleased with all that he saw ; and in this contented frame of mind he took posses- sion of the simple residence in which he was to pass the brief remainder of his days. The monks, in their turn, were overjoyed at seeing that which they had hardly believed would ever come to pass. " Pray Heaven," writes the secretary, Gaztelu, " that his majesty may continue to endure the friars as patiently as he does now. This will be no easy matter. They arc all an importunate race ; and the more importunate in proportion to their ignorance, of which there is no lack among the brotherhood of Yuste." THE LIFE OP CHARLES THE FIFTH AFTER HIS ABDICATION. BOOK II. Charles's Mansion at Yuste— Furniture and Works of Art — Van Male — Charles's Household and Expenditure — His Way of Life — His Confessor — His Mechanical Pursuits— His Observance of Religious Rites— His Con- tentment at Yuste. The emperor's dwelling at Yuste, notwithstanding it had been contrived by one of the best architects in Spain, had little pretensions to the name of " palace," by which the monkish chroniclers, in their reverence for its occupant, are wont to distinguish it. It was a simple structure, of very moderate dimensions, and stood on the steep side of the mountain, with its back against the southern wall of the monastery. It consisted of only eight rooms, four on each floor, which were of a uniform size, being twenty-five feet long by twenty broad. They all opened into corridors, that crossed the building and terminated in tw^o deep por- ticos, or galleries, that flanked it on the east and west. These led out upon terraces, for which the sloping land was eminently favourable, and which the emperor after- wards embellished with flowers, fountains, and fish-ponds. 536 LITE OF CHARLES THE FIFTH [book ii. fed by the streams from the smToundmg hills. From the western terrace a gently sloping path, suited to the mon- arch's feeble limbs, led to the garden, which spread out below the house. This was of considerable extent ; and a high wall, which enclosed it, separated it from the domain of the monks. A small part of it was reserved for raising the vegetables for the royal table. The remainder was laid out as a pleasure-ground, with parterres of flowers, and pleasant walks shaded with orange, citron, and mulberry- trees, that in this sheltered spot, screened from the rude winds of the north, grew as luxuriantly as in a more southern latitude. One of these alleys led to a light and tasteful summer-house, the ruins of which may be detected by the traveller among the rubbish that covers the ground at the present day. Another walk, bordered with cypresses, led to a gate which opened into the neighbouring forest, where two cows were pastured that supplied milk for the emperor's dairy. Charles took for his bed-chamber the north-eastern room on the second floor, contiguous to the chapel, which, indeed, was the part of the monastery against which his mansion "Was erected. The apartment was so situated that a window, or glass-door, opened from it directly into the chancel, giving him, while he lay in bed, a complete view of the high altar, and enabling him, when confined to his chamber, to take part in the service. In the opposite corner of the building was the cabinet where he passed the day in trans- acting business, which still followed him to Yuste, and in receiving envoys and visitors who came to pay their respects to him in his retirement. The northern chambers must have been dark and dreary, with no light but what found its way under the deep por- ticos that protected the sides of the dwelling. But on tlic south the rooms lay open to the siui, and looked pleasantly (Itnvn upon the garden. Here the vines, clambering up the walls, hung their coloured tassels around the casements. 1557.] AFTER HIS ABDICATION. 537 and the Avliite blossoms of tlic orange-trees, as they were shaken by the breeze, filled the apartment with delicious odours. From the windows the eye of the monarch ranged over a magnificent prospect. Far above rose the bold peaks of the sierra, dark with its forests of chestnut and oak, while below, for many a league, was spread out the luxuriant savanna, like a sea of verdure, its gay colours contrasting with the savage character of the scenery that surrounded it. Charles, who had an eye for the beautiful in nature as well as in art, loved to gaze upon tliis landscape ; and in the afternoon he would frequently take his seat in the western gallery, when warm with the rays of the declining sun, as it was sinking in glory behind the mountains. Charles, as we have seen, was careful to guard himself against cold, always travelling with his stove, and causing chimneys to be built in houses where he prolonged his residence. We may be sure that he did not omit this practice in a place like Yuste, where the dampness of the atmosphere rendered fireplaces, although little in vogue among the natives, as important as in a colder region. He had chimneys constructed for every room in the house. Indeed, he seemed to possess the constitution of a sala- mander, and usually kept his apartments in a sort of furnace heat, by no means agreeable to his household. With all this, and with the further appliances of furs and wrappings of eider-down, he would often complain, espe- cially when the gout was on him, that he was chilled to the bone. The furniture and decorations of Charles's dwelling seem not to have been altogether in keeping with the plainness of the edifice. Yet Sandoval, the emperor's historian, assures us that " the apartments were so ill provided in respect to these, that they looked as if they had been sacked by an enemy, instead of being the residence of a great monarch ; that the walls were hung with nothing better than black cloth, as if for mourning, and with this 538 LITE OF CHAHLES THE FIFTH [book ii. only in his bed-chamber ; that he had but one arm-chair, or rather half a chair, so old and rickety that it would not have fetched four reals at auction ; finally, that his ward- robe was on the same humble scale, consisting of a single black suit, and that of poor quality." The same account, with more or less variation, is echoed by Vera y Figueroa, Valparayso, Strada, and other writers of authority. That Charles had not much to boast of in the way of dress may well be believed ; for during the latter years of his life, he had been singularly indifferent to his apparel. " When he rode into the towns," says a contemporary, " amidst a bril- liant escort of courtiers and cavaliers, the emperor's person was easy to be distinguished, among the crowd, by the plainness of his attire." In the latter part of his reign, he dressed wholly in black. Roger Ascham, who was admitted to an audience by him in his privy chamber some five years before his abdication, says that the emperor "had on a gown of black taffety, and looked somewhat like the parson at Epurstone." His natural parsimony came in aid of his taste. It is told of him that once, being overtaken by a storm in the neighbourhood of Naumburg, he took off his new velvet cap, and remained uncovered while he sent into the town for an old one. " Poor emperor," thought one of the company, who tells the anecdote, " spending tons of gold on his wars, and standing bareheaded in the rain for the sake of his velvet bonnet !" The reflection is a natural one; but not more natural than the inconsistency which gave rise to it. That Charles was not altogether unmindful of his wear- ing-apparcl in Yuste, may be inferred from the fact, tliat his wardrobe contained no less than sixteen robes of silk and velvet, lined with ermine, or eider-down, or the soft hair of the Barbary goat. As to the furniture and upholstery of his apartments, how little reliance is to be placed on the reports so carelessly circulated about these, may be gathered from a single glance at the inventory of 1557.] .iTTER HIS .VBDICATION. 539 liis effects, prepared by Quixada and Gaztelu soon after their master's deatli. Among the items we find carpets from Turkey and Alcaraz, canopies of velvet and other stuffs, hangings of fine black cloth, which, since his mother's death, he had always chosen for his own bed- room ; while the remaining apartments were provided with no less than twenty-five suits of tapestry, from the looms of Flanders, richly embroidered with figures of animals and with landscapes. Instead of the crazy seat that is spoken of, we find, besides a number of sofas and chairs of carved walnut, half a dozen arm-chairs covered with black velvet, and two others, of a more elaborate Avorkmanship, for the emperor's especial use. One of these was garnished with six cushions and a footstool, for the accommodation of his tender joints, and the other well stuffed and provided with handles, by which, without annoyance to himself, he could be borne out upon the terrace, where, in fine weather, he often preferred to take his repasts. The accommodations of his sleeping apartment showed an equal attention to his personal comfort ; for, besides two beds, of different dimen- sions, we find such an ample supply of bolsters, pillows, blankets, and bed-gear of all descriptions, as would have rejoiced the heart of the most ambitious housekeeper. With the article of plate, he was no less generously pro- vided, though we are assured by the authorities above quoted, that he had but three or four pieces, and those of the plainest pattern. The service of his oratory was un- commonly ample, and was mostly of silver-gilt. His table service was also of silver, as were the articles for his toilet, the vases, the pitchers, the basins, and even the humblest utensil in his bed-chamber. The vessels in his apothecary's room were of the same precious material, as well as most of the articles in the pantry and the kitchen. Among the different pieces of plate Ave find some of pure gold, and others especially noted for their curious Avorkmanship ; and as this Avas an age in Avhich the art of Avorking the precious 540 LITE OF CHARLES THE FIFTH [book ii. metals was carried to the highest perfection, we cannot doubt that some of the finest specimens had come into the emperor's possession. The whole amount of plate was estimated at between twelve and thirteen thousand ounces in weight. The emperor's inventory makes no great display of jewels. Such trinkets, worthless in the monastery, he left to those who had still their showy parts to play on the theatre of the Avorld. He brought with him, however, a number of richly mounted caskets of gold, silver, and enamel, containing different articles which still had value in his eyes. Among these were several collars and badges of the Golden Fleece, the proud Burgundian order of which the Spanish sovereign was now the head. But most of these jewelled coffers were filled with relics or amulets. Among the former was a bit of the true cross. It after- wards passed as a precious legacy to Philip ; as did also the contents of another casket, a crucifix which his mother, the Empress Isabella, had in her hands in the hour of death, and which was afterwards to solace the last moments of her husband and her son. The other boxes were chiefly devoted to talismans, which the superstition of the times had invested with marvellous properties for warding off disease. There were stones set in gold, sure styptics for stopping blood ; nine English rhigs, a specific against cramp ; a blue stone, richly chased, for expelling the gout ; four bezoar stones, in gold settings, of singular efficacy in curing the plague ; and other charms of the same kind. It may surprise one that a person of so strong a mind as Charles the Fifth should have yielded so far to the popular superstition as to put faith in such trum})ory. That he did so is evident from the care with which he preserved these anuilets, and from his sending one of them — a bezoar stone — to his chand)erlain. Van Male, when supposed to be ill of the plague. Yet this should not be sot down so nmch to superstition as to the credulity Avliich grew out of au 1557.] AFTER HIS ABDICATION. 541 ignorance of the real properties of matter, — an ignorance Avliich the emperor shared with the best instructed men of the age, who, in whatever related to physical science, were constantly betrayed into errors of which a schoolboy at the present day would be ashamed. There was one decoration for his dwelling which the abdicated monarch brought with him to Yuste, of more worth than his plate or his jewels. This was a small but choice collection of pictures, some of which rank as the noblest master-pieces of art. They were variously painted, on canvas, wood, and stone, mostly of the size of life, and hung in rich frames round the walls of his apartments. Some were in miniature, and among these were no less than three of the empress ; while an elaborate altar-piece, displaying pictures of the Virgin and the Child, was orna- mented with gold medallions that contained likenesses of the different members of the imperial family. But the gems of the collection were eight paintings from the pencil of Titian. Charles was a true lover of art, and, for a crowned head, no contemptible connoisseur. He fully appreciated the merits of the great Venetian, had him often near his person at the court, and at all times delighted to do homage to his genius. There is a story that, on one occasion, the monarch picked up a pencil which Titian had dropped while painting, and restored it to him, saying that ** so great an artist should be served by an emperor." This is too like some well attested anecdotes of Charles to be rejected as altogether improbable. However this may \e, he showed his estimation of the artist by conferring on him the honour of knighthood, and by assigning him a yearly pension on the revenues of Naples, of two hundred gold crowns. He may be thought to have done some violence to his nature, moreover, by never paying him a less sum than eight hundred crowns for each of bis por- traits. There were several of himself at Yuste, from the hand of Titian ; one a full-length, representing the emperor 542 LIFE OF CHARLES THE FIETH [book ii. in complete mail. He was painted many times by the Venetian artist ; for it was by liis pencil that he desired his likeness should be transmitted to posterity. He had his wish. Some of these portraits are among the best pro- ductions of Italian art ; and the emperor lives immortal on the canvas of Titian, no less than in the pages of history. There are several pictures also of the empress by the same master ; and others of Philip and the different members of the royal family. But the most remarkable in the collection, and one that Charles had caused to be painted a few years before, that he might take it with him to his retreat, was the celebrated " Gloria," in which he appears with the empress in the midst of the heavenly host, and supported by angels, in an attitude of solemn adoration. This superb picture, which, after the monarch's death, accompanied his remains to the Escorial, is reported by tradition to have been placed over the great altar in the church of Yuste. That this was the case is rendered pro- bable by the size of the painting, which made it better suited to a church than a private apartment. In the space above the altar, Charles could, moreover, readily see it through the window of his chamber ; and, from his sick- bed, his eyes might still rest on the features of the sainted beinsf who had been dearest to him on earth. There were other pictures by different artists, the prin- cipal of whom was " Master Michael," as he is termed, respecting whose identity historians are somewhat puzzled. The subjects of his pieces Avere chiefly of a religious character, and celebrated different passages in the life of Our Lord. The whole collection was one well suited to the condition of the monarch, who had withdrawn from the tumult of the world to a life of holy meditation. While surrounded by the images of those who were asso- ciated in his memory with the most tender recollections, his religious sensibilities were kindled by the sight of those 1557.] AFTER HIS ABDICATION. 543 scenes which commemorated the sorrows and the sufferings of his Saviour. Charles had brought but a meagre array of books to adorn his shelves at Yuste. He was never a great reader. His life had been too busy to allow the leisure for it. It was his misfortune in his youth not to have acquired a fondness for books, — that best source of enjoyment in prosperity, as it is the unfailing solace in the hour of trouble. The learned Adrian of Utrecht was, indeed, his preceptor. But Chievres, the politic Flemish minister, who had the direction of his affairs, considered letters as be- longing to gownsmen, and that a prince could better bestow his time on manly and chivalrous exercises. Charles's whole library did not exceed thirty-one volumes. These were mostly of a religious character, as psalters, missals, breviaries, commentaries on the Scriptures, and the Meditations of St. Augustine. Of the Consolations of Boethius, — a work once so popular, — there were copies in three different languages. He had a few scientific works, among them the Almagesta of Ptolemy, which contained whatever was known, or rather not known, of astronomy in that day. One might have expected that history, at least, would have found favour with the emperor. But he was too busy in furnishing materials for history to find time for reading it. He possessed a fragment of the unfinished manuscript of Florian de Ocampo's Cronica de Espam ; a work in which the author, starting from the Deluge, — as usual with the Spanish chronicler in that day, — was interrupted by death before he had groped his way through the Dark Ages. A copy of Caesar's Commentaries graced the shelves. But it was in an Italian translation, as Charles had a very imper- fect knowledge of Latin. He took more pleasure in the Commentaries of his friend the Grand Commander Avila, which celebrated the wars in Germany iu which the emperor played the principal part. 544 LIFE OF CHARLES THE FIFTH [book n. But the work which had the greatest interest for the monarch was a Trench poem, '' Le Chevalier DelibereJ' which had great success in its day. It was chiefly devoted to celebrating the glories of the house of Burgundy, and especially that prince of fire-eaters, Charles the Bold. The emperor, pleased with the work, and the more so, no doubt, that it commemorated the achievements of his own ances- tral line, had formerly amused his leisure hours by turning it into Spanish. He afterwards employed his chamberlain, WilHam Van Male, to revise it, and correct the style for him. Thus purified, it was handed over to a poet of the court, named Acuna, who forthwith did it into set Castilian verse. Van Male, the chamberlain, who had thus performed the same office for his master which Voltaire used to inti- mate he had rendered to Frederic the Great, by saying he had washed out the king's dirty linen, was a person who held too important a place in the emperor's household to be passed over in silence. He was born in Flanders, of an ancient but decayed family. He early followed the w^ars, and took service under the duke of Alva. But the pro- fession of arms was not suited to his quiet and studious tastes ; and w-hen peace came, he quitted the army, with the design of entering the Church. The poor gentleman, however, had no patron to push him forward in the path of preferment, and, satisfied of this, he gladly embraced an offer, which he obtained through the interest of Charles's minister, De Praedt, of the post of chamberlain in the imperial household. In his new situation Van Male was necessarily brought into close relations with his master, to whom his various accomplishments enabled him to render other services than those strictly demanded by his office. When Charles's fingers were too much crippled by gout to hold the pen, the chamberlain acted as his secretary, and sometimes wrote his despatches. If the monarch, oppressed with care, or tormented by bodily pain, was unable to compose 1557.] ATTER HIS ABDICATION, 545 himself to sleep. Van Male beguiled the time by reading aloud to him ; and many a weary hour, and often far into the night, did the chamberlain stand by his master's bedside, engaged in his unenviable office. It was in such intervals as he could snatch, during this occupation, that he wrote those letters to his friend the minister De Praedt, which have recently been published, and which throw many gleams of light on the emperor's personal character and way of life. In their constant intercourse. Van Male's guileless character, his integrity, and his amiable disposi- tion, won the regard of his master, who seems to have honoured him with a greater degree of confidence than any other of his household, except Quixada. But for all that, and notwithstanding the important services which he received from him, Charles did little for the advancement of the chamberlain's fortunes. When the latter announced that he was about to marry, the emperor looked graciously on the plan, and favoured him with some prudent counsels in regard to his housekeeping. The simple-hearted chamber- lain overflowed with gratitude at this mark of conde- scension, which he does not fail to communicate in his letters to De Praedt. But these prudent counsels were all that Charles had to give him. At length the time came when the emperor could be generous to Van Male, and that without any cost to himself. He determined to present him with the manuscript con- taining the Castilian version of the " Chevalier Delibere," and to have a large edition of it struck off at once. This was to be done at the chamberlain's expense, who would be abundantly remunerated by the sale of the poem. " It will put five hundred gold crowns into his pocket," ex- claimed a wicked wag, the historian Avila. " And William is well entitled to them," said the emperor, " for he has sweat hard over the work." But the subject of the royal bounty took a very different view of the matter. Nothing seemed certain to him but the cost, — especially as Charles VOL. II. N N 546 LIFE OF CKiELES THE FIFTH [book ii. positively declined to propitiate the public by making known the part wliicli lie had taken in the composition of the Avork. It was in vain that the poor chamberlain pro- tested. His master would not be balked in his generous purpose, and in that same year, 1555, an edition of two thousand copies of the book appeared from the press of Jean Steeltz, in Antwerp. Whether the result justified the ominous presages of Van Male, we are not told. He was one of the Flemings who followed their master to Yuste. He survived him but two years ; and, as there is no ap- pearance that his affairs were in a very flourishing condition at the time of his own death, we have no reason to suppose that the manuscript of the '' CahaUero Detoininado" proved a gold mine to him. Charles had brought with him to Yuste two copies of the epic, which he probably regarded with more complacency than that with which they were viewed by Van Male. One was in the original French, the other in the Castilian version, an-d both were ornamented with coloured drawings, and richly bound in crimson velvet with clasps and corners of silver, like many of the other books in the collection. The imperial household consisted of about fifty persons, • — a number not greater than belonged to the family of many a private gentleman. But the titles of some of the officials intimated the state maintained in the establishment. There were the major-domo, the almoner, the physician, the apothecary, the secretary, four gentlemen of the chamber, the keeper of the wardrobe, and the like. There were also cooks, confectioners, fruiterers, bakers, brewers, game- keepers, and a number of menials for the inferior offices. Charles, as we have seen, had been disappointed in not being able to retain the services of some of the more dis- tinguished Flemings in his monastic retreat. Their attach- ment to their master was not strong enough to make them renounce the world, and bury themselves in the solitudes of Yuste. With the exception, therefore, of a few men of 1557.] ATTEE TITS ABDICATION. 547 family and education, who filled the higher posts, the establishment was made up of illiterate persons, suited to the humblest station. Even one of the chamberlains, as we gather from the emperor's will, was unable either to read or write. The emperor's family was variously distributed. Quixada, Gaztelu, Moron, keeper of the wardrobe, and some others of the principal attendants, were lodged in the neighbouring village of Cuacos, half a league from the monastery, — a place, as the secretary pathetically complains, " even worse than Yuste." Much the greater number found accommo- dations in a part of the new cloisters, to which the avenues from the rest of the monastery were carefully closed, while easy communications were opened with " the palace." Thus the emperor's establishment, in the words of Mignet, was complete in itself, supplying him not only with all that was required in the way of personal service, but with whatever was necessary for his use, — from the bread for his table to the various medicines for his maladies ; from the wine and beer of his cellar to the wax-lights for his oratory. The salaries of the attendants varied according to the nature of their services. Quixada, as head of the establishment, was to receive the same yearly stipend with that assigned to the marquis of Denia, who had held the post of chamberlain in Queen Joanna's household. The amount is not stated. Gaztelu, the secretary, and ]\Iathys, the physician, received each seven hundred and fifty florins a-year. Moron had four hundred florins, as master of the wardrobe ; Torriano, the mechanician, three hundred and fifty; Van Male, and the other chamberlains of the first class, three hundred each. The whole amount of the wages somewhat exceeded ten thousand florins.^ ^ Tlie riemisli llorin, according? to sixteeiitli century. Taking three as Mignet (" Cliailes Quint," p. 227), tiie multiple indicating the dcpreeia- contained an amount of silver erpiiva- tion, the Flemish florin would be equal lent to that of six francs ninety-seven to nearly twenty-one francs of the prc- centimes of the present day. But sent currency. There are so many silver has greatly depreciated since the embarrassments, however, in the way N N 2 548 LIFE OF CHARLES THE FIFTH [book i. Charles had estimated his probable expenses at about sixteen thousand gold ducats a-year. He found, however, that he should require twenty thousand; and he ordered the secretary Vazquez to remit to him that amount, in quarterly payments of five thousand each. Gaztelu lu'ged the importance of punctuality in the remittances ; for " the emperor," he said, " is the man of all others who requires to be served with punctuality; and the least want of it causes him the greatest annoyance." One might have thought that the lord of Spain and the Indies would have long been familiar wdth such som*ces of annoyance. The abdicated monarch had reserved for himself the proceeds of certain taxes called los seisy onze al miliar, and a right in the mines of Guadalcanal. These, which were of silver, and situated in the south, not far from Cordova, were of daily increasing value ; though it was not till some years later, w^hen leased to the Fuggers of Augsbm'g, that their productiveness was fully established. Besides these sources of revenue, Charles had laid aside for himself thirty thousand gold ducats, which he deposited in the fortress of Simancas. His daughter Joanna, more than once, when hard pushed for money for the public service, tried to persuade him to allow her to borrow from this hoard on the faith of the national credit. But her father, who knew from experience that government paper was by no means as good as gold, turned a deaf ear to the application, and kept his treasure untouched to the day of his death. Charles's way of life at Yuste was of that regular kind to have been expected in one who lived in the atmosphere of a convent. He rose early, and immediately breakfasted. His stomach abhorred a vacuum, even for the shortest space of time. When the door was thrown open, his confessor, Father Juan de Rcgla, appeared. The history of this man of forming a correct estimate of llie may arrive must be received with difli- relativc value of money in different deuce, ages, that any conclusion at wliieh wc 1557.] AFTER HIS ABDICATION. 549 affords one of the many examples of the wise policy with which the Catholic Church opens a career to talent and desert wherever found, instead of making rank the only path to preferment. Regla was the son of a poor Aragonese peasant. While a lad, he went to Saragossa, where he lived for some time on charity, especially on the alms doled out at the convent gate of St. Engracia. He performed also some menial offices ; and the money he thus picked up he spent on books. The brethren of the convent aided him by their spiritual teachings, and by their recommendation of him to a wealthy patron, avIio gave him the charge of his sons in the University of Salamanca. Regla seems to have fully shared in all the advantages for education afforded by this seat of science. He profited by them to the utmost, made himself well acquainted with the ancient tongues, especially Greek and Hebrew, and went still deeper into the canon law, as he had determined to devote himself to the Church. At the age of thirty-six he entered the order of St. Jerome, making his profession in the old, familiar convent of St. Engracia. He distinguished himself by the strictness with which he conformed to the discipHne of the society. Though a subtle and dexterous casuist, he seems to have had no great success as a preacher. But he was the most popular confessor in Saragossa. His learning and exemplary way of life, recommended by plausible manners, gradually acquired for him such consideration with the brotherhood that he was raised to the office of prior in the very convent at whose gate he had once received charity. The first term of his office had just expired, and he was about to be re-elected for another, when he received a summons to attend the emperor as his confessor at Yuste. However gratifying the appointment may have been to his feelings, he seems to have preferred to remain in the inde- pendent position which he held as head of the Jeronymite monastery. At least, he showed no alacrity in complying with the summons. When at length he presented himself 550 LIFE OF CHARLES THE FIFTH [book ii. before the emperor, the latter, who had been impatient of his delay, inquired the cause of it ; to which the Jeronymite, with a downcast look, replied, " It was because he did not think himself worthy, or indeed qualified, to take charge of his majesty's conscience." Charles, who perhaps did not give the monk credit for as much humility as he pro- fessed, told him to take courage ; " for," said he, " I have had five learned divines, w^ho have been busy with my conscience for this year past in Flanders ; and all with which you will have to concern yourself wall be my life in Yuste." The meek and austere deportment of the confessor soon established him in the good opinion of the monarch, who, in one instance, showed him a singular proof of considera- tion. He not only allowed, but commanded Regla to be seated in his presence, — an act of condescension, which greatly scandalized the loyal Quixada, who regarded it in the light of an indignity that a poor friar should thus be placed on a level Avitli his august sovereign. Regla himself felt the awkwardness of his situation, for much the same etiquette was observed towards Charles in his retirement as when on the imperial throne. The monk saw the odium to which his master's favom* would expose him; and on his knees he besought the emperor to allow him to stand in his presence. " When any one enters the room, it makes me feel," said the poor man, "like a criminal on the scaftbld, dressed in his san-bcjiito." " Be in no pain about that," said Charles to him ; " you are my father-confessor. I am glad that people should find you sitting when they come into the room ; and it does not displease me," he coolly added, " that you should change countenance sometimes at being found so." Notwithstanding this show of deference to his confessor, or to the cloth, Regla soon found that hnmiUty was not a cardinal virtue of his royal penitent, and that, if lie liad resigned the sceptre, he still retained a full measure of the 1657.] AFTER HIS ABDICATION. 551 imperious temper with which he had swayed it. On one occasion, the monk having gone on his own affairs to the neighbouring town of Plascncia, Charles, as soon as he learned it, sent a courier to order him back. " I would have you know, brother Juan," said the emperor to him on his return, " that it is my pleasure you go not hence with- out my express permission. You are not to quit me for a single momont." Regla received the rebuke with patience, and from that hour never left the monastery so long as his master lived. After the confessor had assisted Charles in his morning devotions, the latter amused himself with some occupation, — often of a mechanical kind, for which he had a taste. His companion at these times was Torriano, the mechanician whom we have mentioned as forming one of the household. He was a native of Cremona, in Italy, a man of singular ingenuity, who afterwards gained himself a name as an engineer by the construction of the celebrated hydraulic works of Toledo. He was well skilled in the manufacture of timepieces, and, as we have seen, made those elaborate clocks which adorned the apartments at Yuste. He was engaged, at this time, on an astronomical timepiece of a most complicated construction, which required more than three years for its completion. Charles is said to have observed the progress of this curious piece of mechanism with great interest. He had brought with him to Yuste a number of watches made by the same hand. Pocket watches were a great rarity at that period, for their inven- tion was of recent date, going back no farther than the beginning of the century. Charles had a passion for timepieces, though one might have thought that he would have cared httle for the precise measurement of the hours as they glided away in the monotonous routine of the monastery. The difficulty which he found in adjusting his clocks and watches is said to have drawn from the monarch a philosophical reflection on 552 LIEE OF CHARLES THE FIFTH [book ii. the absui'dity of his having attempted to bring men to anything Hke uniformity of behef in matters of faith, when he could not make any two of his timepieces agree with each other. But that he never reached the degree of philosophy required for such a reflection, is abundantly shown by more than one sentiment that fell from his pen, as well as his lips, during his residence at Yuste. Charles had a turn for the mathematical sciences ; and his inventory contains a number of geometrical and other instruments, which he had brought with him to his retreat. In the catalogue we find, moreover, mention made of no less than thirty-six pairs of spectacles. He had a decided taste, and, as it would seem, talent, for mechanical pursuits, and when in Germany had invented a carriage for his own accommodation, in which he used to take his airings in the country. He would often amuse himself Avitli Torriano in making little puppets, — soldiers performing their exercises, girls dancing with their tambourines, and, if the account be true, wooden birds that could fly in and out at the window ! — all which, in the eyes of the simple monks, savoured of necromancy. But what satisfied them beyond a doubt that Torriano was an adept in the black art was his inven- tion of a hand-mill small enough to be tucked away in the sleeve of a frinr, but of sufficient power to grind enough meal in a day to feed a man for a week. It may have been some such piece of witchcraft that furnished an argu- ment for his prosecution afterwards by the Holy Olfice. At ten o'clock some of the emperor's ayudas de cdmara or of his barberos, — gentlemen of the chamber of the first and second class, — came to assist him at his toilet. At noon he heard mass. When well enough, he always attended the service in person, occupying his place in the choir. At other times he would sit at his chamber-window, which, as we have seen, opened on the chancel, where the clear, sonorous tones of his voice might be heard, mingling with those of tlic choristers below. He had a great fondness 1557.] APTER HIS ABDICATION. 553 for music, and understood the principles of the art. When on the throne, the music of liis chapel was unsurpassed by that of any church in Christendom. On his coming to Yuste, the greatest pains had been taken to select for him the best voices from the different convents of the order. No person was admitted into the choir except those who regularly belonged to it. On one occasion a professional singer from Plasencia having joined in the chant, the un- accustomed tones soon drew the emperor's attention ; and the intruder was compelled to beat a hasty retreat. Charles had a quick ear ; and sometimes, when a false note jarred on it, he would break into a passion, and salute the offender with one of those scurrilous epithets which he had picked up in the wars, and which were much better suited to a military life than to a monastic. Immediately after mass he dined, — an important meal, which occupied much time with him always, at the convent as well as at the court. At Yuste, he still retained the unsocial privilege claimed by royalty of eating alone. He beguiled the time, however, by conversing with some one of his household, who was present during the repast. Sometimes it was Mathys, the physician, a man of science, but who unfortunately did not possess the authority exer- cised by Sancho Panza's island- doctor, to order off the unwholesome dishes from the table. Sometimes it was the learned chamberlain. Van Male, who was present. Fre- quently both remained ; and the emperor conversed with them on different topics, usually those relating to science, — to anything but politics. The subject often turned on natural history, of which Charles was fond, when Pliny would, of course, be cited as sovereign authority ; and, if a passage chanced to puzzle the disputants, the confessor — a good scholar, as we have seen — would sometimes be sent for to settle the dispute. After dinner, the monk read to his master some portion of St. Bernard, or St. Jerome, pausing frequently while his 554 LII^ OF CHAELES THE FIETH [book ii. auditor made a running commentary on the text ; so tlmt the exercise, as the narrator adds, partook rather of the nature of " a sweet and heavenly communion." At other times, the conversation turned on Hghter and more famihar topics. Then came a short siesta ; after which the emperor repaired to the church, where three days in the week he listened to a discourse from one of his chaplains. There were three of these, men selected for their piety and learn- ing from the different houses of the order. Among the number, Fray Francisco deVillalva was especially endowed with a rare and touching eloquence, which made him one of the most popular preachers of the day ; and as his dis- courses found great favour with Charles, he was selected to deliver the sermon much oftener than either of his brethren. Occasionally assistance was not refused from other quarters; and if any member of the order belonging to some other convent, who had a gift for preaching, happened to visit Yuste, he was invited to mount the pulpit, and display his eloquence before the emperor. Whenever there Avas preaching, Charles made it a point to be present. If prevented by illness, or by the necessity of preparing de- spatches for Brussels or Valladolid, he expected to hear from his confessor on the same evening a fidl report of the discourse. On the other afternoons of the week he listened to some portion of the Scriptures from Fray Bernardo dc Salinas, a learned divine, who had received his degree of doctor from the University of Paris. The part most frequently selected for this exercise was the Epistle to the Romans, which the emperor preferred, says a monkish historian, as containing the sum and substance of all the other epistles, and comprehending within itself all the sound doctrines and dogmas of the chnrch. The remainder of the day he was occupied with such affairs as claimed his attention. After vespers, and before retiring to rest, he refreshed liiinself witli a supper, in which fisli, dressed in some rich 1557.] APTER HIS ABDICATION. 555 and unwholesome way, was pretty sure to make part of the repast. A rehgious sentiment, which, unhappily, was deeply tinctured with bigotry, lay at the basis of Charles's cha- racter, as was shown in the busiest parts of his life, no less than in his retirement. lie had ever paid due attention to the solemnities of the church, and was anxious to show his respect for its ministers. On one occasion, when attending divine service in the chapel of the University of Alcala, he declined to take the throne which had been prepared for him, and took his seat Avitli the canons, saying, that " he could find no better place than among such reverend and learned divines." After the death of the empress, he heard a private mass for her every day as soon as he had risen ; and wdien he had despatched the business of the audience-chamber, he repaired to the chapel and heard mass there in public. At Yuste, he caused four masses to be performed every day — two for the souls of his parents, another for his wife, and a fourth for himself, at which last he was always present. He seemed desirous on all occasions to manifest the earnestness of his devotion. When one of the brethren, soon after his arrival, abashed by the emperor's presence, hesitated to sprinkle him with the holy water, he took the hyssop from the monk, and scattered the drops liberally over himself, saying, " This is the way, father, you must do in future, and without any fear." On Good Friday, when the convent was assembled to adore the Cross, Charles appeared with his household, who applied the scourge briskly to themselves, as they followed their master. He allowed the monks to take precedence ; and, though so feeble at the time as to require the support of his attendants, he insisted on going through all the ceremonies practised by the brethren, prostrating himself thrice on the ground before saluting the cross with his lips. Charles was punctual, as far as his health permitted him, in observing the fasts and festivals of the church. His 556 LIFE OF CHARLES THE FIFTH [book i, infirmities excused him, to some extent, from the former. In 1554, he had obtained a bull from Julius the Third, granting him a dispensation for breaking his fast, even on the mornings when he was to take the sacrament. In the terms of the instrument, "he was discharged from any scruples of conscience that he might experience for having done this at any time before, with a complete dispensation for the future;" and this was granted him, it was said, " not only on account of the infirm state of his health, but of the pious zeal with which he had ever stood forth as the defender of the Catholic faith." But though Charles was excused by his infirmities from keeping the fasts of the clim-ch, he was very strict in enforc- ing the observance of them by his people. He was no less so in requiring their attention to other religious ordinances. On Ash Wednesday, when all his household were expected to partake of the sacrament, he might be seen standing on the upper steps of the altar, taking note that no one of the number was absent. He set an edifying example in his own person. Every Friday in Lent he took his place in the choir ; and after the ceremonies were finished, and the monks had extinguished their tapers, the emperor followed their example, and applied the lash with such good will to his back and shoulders, that it was stained with his blood. The scourges which he used were preserved in a coff'er, among other relics and precious memorials of his father's piety, by Philip the Second, and by that monarch bequeathed to his imbecile son and successor, Philip the Third. While Charles was thus mindful of the lugubrious cere- monies of the church, he did not allow its festivals to pass unheeded. The most interesting of these, from its con- nexion with his personal history, was the/e^^eof St. Matthias. The twenty-fourth of February, the day of this apostle, was as important an epoch in Charh's's hfc as the tliird of September was in that of OUvcr Cromwell. It was the day on which the emperor was born ; that on which he 1557.] AFTER HIS ABDICATION. 557 won the great victory of Pavia over his rival, Francis the First ; that on which he received the imperial crown from the pope at Bologna ; and, finally, it was the birthday of his natural son, the famous John of Austria. So fruitful an anniversary could not be allowed to pass unheeded by the monarch, Avho ever held his patron, St. Matthias, in the greatest honour. The pope had granted an indulgence to all who should be in the same place with the emperor on that day, or even where his remains were, after death. Charles continued to observe the fete of St. Matthias at Yuste with the same solemnity, if not with the same pomp, as when upon the throne. On the morning of that day he appeared in the chapel richly attired, with the superb collar of the Golden Fleece hanging from his neck. He was attended by his household, all dressed in their gala suits for the occasion. After high mass had been performed, Charles approached the altar, and, kneeling down, returned thanks to the Almighty for the countless blessings that had been heaped on his head. He then laid his gift reverently on the altar, consisting of as many gold pieces as he had numbered years of his life. After this, came a sermon from Father Villalva. But the church was unable to contain half of those who had come to celebrate the jubilee. They had gathered from forty leagues round to profit by the indulgence, and to see the great emperor who had exchanged the pomps of the world for a life of penitence and prayer in the solitudes of Estremadm-a. An altar was raised in the open fields, not far from the garden gate, where mass was performed ; and while the discourse was going on in the neighbouring church, another was delivered from a pulpit under the shadows of the famous walnut-tree of Yuste, which still throws its gigantic arms over the spot where the multitudes gathered to celebrate the festival of St. Matthias. Another anniversary, which derives its interest from its connexion with the emperor's cloister life, is worthy of 558 LIFE OF CHAHLES THE FIFTH [book ii. notice. This was the third of .February, St. Bias's day, the date of his arrival in Yuste. A singular circumstance gave a peculiar character to the celebration of it. When Charles had nearly completed a year of his residence, the master of the novices told j\loron, the keeper of the wardrobe, that he must learn from the emperor whether he was contented with his way of life, and was willing to make his profes- sion; for, after the year had passed, he would not be allowed, by the rules of the order, to leave the convent. The Jeronymite, as the chronicler tells us, hardly expected that this would be reported to the emperor ; but the latter, when it was repeated by Moron, took it in good part, and, though labouring at that time under an attack of the gout, determined to enter into the humom- of the thing. He announced, accordingly, that he was well content with the convent, and, if the brethren were contented with him, they might consider him as having professed from that hour. He then inquired what ceremonies were necessary on the occasion. He was told the first step was to examine into the lineage of the candidate, and see if he were of the " blue blood," — sangre azul, — that is, without taint of Moorish or Jewish ancestry. The pedigree of his majesty made such an inquiry in his case superfluous. But the act of profession required to be celebrated with certain solenmities that could not so well be dispensed with. Charles gave orders that they should be punctually observed. Accordingly, on St. Bias's day, mass was celebrated in the chapel, a procession was formed of all the brethren, Te Deinii was chanted, and a sermon was pronounced by the emperor's favourite preacher, who told his hearers " how much more glorious it was to become the servant of Christ, poor and lowly as such a condition might be, than to be lord of the whole world." The religious services were con- cluded by a scene of a more festive character, as was usual when a new member was admitted into the fraternity. A table was spread in tin; refectory, sumptuously provided at 1557.] AFTER HIS ABDICATION. 559 the emperor's expense, and garnished with game and other dainties, which had been sent for the occasion from the neighbouring viHages. The Flemings from Cuacos, with their wives, dressed in their holiday apparel, came to par- take of the good cheer with the Jeronymite brethren ; and when the banquet was ended, the latter, who had been long pent up within the walls of the monastery, were permitted to go forth, and spend the remainder of the day in rambling among the forests on the slopes of the mountain. The accession of the imperial neophyte to their body was a proud day for the community of Yuste. They seem to have had no doubt of the sincerity of the emperor's pro- fession. At least, they intimated as much by opening a new register, bearmg the names of the professed, at the head of which w\as the name of Charles, written with his own hand. " Whether it was by way of jest, or spiritual pastime, or however one may call it, so it was," says the chronicler of the order. Beneath the royal autograph was inscribed the following sentence : " Dedicated to the eternal memory of this illustrious and puissant monarch, in order that the future members of this house may glorify themselves on seeing their own names inscribed beneath the name of this great prince." The volume, thus royally illustrated, was cherished with pious care by the community till the beginning of the present century, when in 1809 the monastery of Yuste w^as sacked by the French, and the archives, like everything else within its walls, were con- verted into a heap of ruins. Charles w-as sufficiently affable in his deportment towards the Jeronymites. He knew them all by name, and occa- sionally conversed with them. Indeed, he showed them a degree of kindness, and even consideration, that w'as incomprehensible to his household, especially the Flemings, whose feelings seem to have been anything but those of deference for the friars. On one occasion he bestowed a gratuity on the monks, which led to a remonstrance from 560 LIFE OF CILYELES THE FIFTH [book li- the board of visitors on their annual inspection of the con- vent. " The order," they said, " snppHed the brethren with all that was necessary for the performance of their duties. His majesty's bounty would only serve to make them listless and lazy, fond of gormandizing and sleeping ; and God grant that the mischief might extend no farther ! " Charles admitted the reasonableness of the objections, and promised to refrain from such indiscreet generosity for the future. Once during his residence at Yuste he condescended to dine with the brethren in the refectory. He sat at a sepa- rate table, and Van Male acted as his carver. But Charles's dainty appetite had been too long accustomed to the savoury messes of his own kitchen to relish the simple fare of the convent. He had made but slender progress in the repast, when he suddenly rose and withdrew. Not to mortify his hosts, however, he told them, as he left, to set aside the untasted dishes for him, adding that " he should not yet hold them quits." But, for all this, he never dined with them again ; still less did he ever retm^n the compliment, by asking any of them to dine with him. The Jeronymites were not long in finding that, notwithstanding his late act of profession. Brother Charles was not a whit more of a monk than when he first took up his residence at Yuste. Their prior having died, they besought the emperor to obtain from the general of the society permission for them to elect a new prior. But Charles testily answered, that " he would not be pestered with their affairs, or with those of their order either." During the first months, indeed the greater part of the first year of the emperor's cloister life, his health visibly improved, — the consequence, it may be, of change of climate and occupations. At least, such is the view taken of it by the Jcronymitc historian, who tells us that the " equable temperature of Yuste, where the monarch's senses were regaled with the delicious fragrance of the groves and 1557.] AFTER HIS ABDICATION. 561 gardens, and above all, the holy calm of his present occu- pations, far from the feverish turmoil of the world, diff'used a sweet serenity over his soul, and gave new vigour to his constitution." From whatever cause the favourable change in his health and spirits proceeded, it was the subject of frequent remark among the members of his family. " The emperor," writes Gaztelu to the secretary Vazquez, " is so well, and in such good condition, that you would hardly know him." This was in June. In the following August, Quixada, in a letter to the same functionary, notices the " excellent health of his master, who eats and sleeps well, and with the exception of an occasional twinge of gout in the fingers and shoulder, has nothing to complain of. He enjoys his present quiet life, has no desire to exchange it for any other, and, in short, is the most contented man in the world." Unfortunately, the contentment of the monarch was not shared by his household. The major-domo, in })articular, gave vent to his ill-humour in more than one petulant letter to Vazquez, to whom he unbosomed himself in the fulness of his heart. " If his majesty," he writes, " wanted soli- tude, by my faith he has got it This is the most wretched and lonely life I ever passed ; fit only for those who desire to give up the world and turn friars, of which number I am not one. But, God willing, I will make some change before long." Shortly after, he obtained a furlough from the emperor, with leave to pay a visit to his family at Villagarcia. Over- joyed, he wrote at once to Vazquez, " I shall not return in a hurry, I assure you, to eat truffles and asparagus in Es- tramadura!" But it was not Quixada's destiny to live separate from his master. The latter, during the major- domo's absence, employed one of the monks as his com- missary, to cater for the palace. But the good father knew but little of the affairs of this world, and proved so incom- petent to his office, that Charles caused a despatch to be VOL. II. O O 562 LIFE OF CHARLES THE FIFTH [book ii sent forthwith to his old servant, desirino; his instant return. " I beheve that his majesty," wrote Gaztehi, with great satisfaction, " is now convinced that the monks are not fit to be employed in anything whatever." Quixada was requested to bring his family along with him, and take up his residence permanently at Cuacos. The idea of thus removing all his family to Yuste, as to a permanent abode, w^as a bitter pill to the major-domo. It was a severe trial to his loyalty ; but in the end his attachment to his master prevailed, and he made his pre- parations for obeying him, though, it must be admitted, with a very bad grace. On his return, he poured forth his complaints into the ear of his friend Vazquez. " I should say nothing of the inconvenience of leaving ray own quar- ters, were it not that I am transferred to a spot where there is nothing to eat, no house fit to live in, and where my days are spent in running to and from the monastery ; and this in all weathers, in heat and cold, in rain and snow ; it is all one. I feel chiefly, however," he adds, " for my wife, — to be thus brought from her pleasant residence at Villagarcia to this dreary solitude, where there are no amusements or enjoyments of any kind. But his majesty," he concludes, " will be served by it ; so I must acquiesce, though nuich against my will, I assure you ; and especially when I con- sider that my past services have not been so Avell requited that 1 should feel under any obligation to render new^ ones." This amiable epistle is dated " the thirtieth of August, from Yuste, — woe betide him who built it!" Gaztelu chimes in with the same tune, though in a more subdued key. " Many of the Flemings," he writes, "complain, I am told, of their way of life, and none are contented. The worst is, there is good reason for this. But breathe it to no one," adds the cautious secretary. "His majesty," he continues, "is in excellent condition, growing fresher and fatter every day. There is not one of the household to compare with him in health. As for the rest of us, indeed, we are all on the sick list." 1657.] AETER HIS ABDICATION. 563 It may well be imagined that the household were careful not to betray their discontent to their master. If they did, he gave little heed to it. He had not that light and fickle temper which would readily render him disgusted with his own plans. lie had reached at last the quiet haven he had so long sighed for ; and noAV that he was relieved from the burden of sovereignty, which of late years had bowed him to the earth, his weary spirit welcomed the repose which it found in the shades of Tuste. Not that he had lost his interest in public affairs. Tar from this, as we shall sooa see, his advice in respect to them — the precious fruit of his large experience — was as freely given as it was asked. But it was only as an adviser, not as an actor, that he now appeared ; and it was a great thing to be discharged from the wearing responsibility which had robbed him of his rest by night, and turned his hairs grey before the prime of manhood. It is not strange that both health and spirits should have improved under the influence of his present regular way of life. Not that this was in all respects the most judicious possible. The free indulgence of his appetite, which had been his besetting sin in the world, still clung to him in the cloister ; and his friends, with indiscreet kindness, continued to tempt him by presents of pernicious dainties at Yuste, in the same manner as they had done at Jarandilla. But the evil consequences were counteracted, to a considerable extent, by the circumstances of his present position. In the fine weather of the spring and summer, he was much in the open air. He took pleasure in pruning his young trees, and tending his plants. He was fond of a garden ; and we are indebted to him, it is said, for the introduction into Europe of the little garden pink, which he brought back from his African campaigns, and which will continue to bloom when the wreath of the conqueror shall have faded and been forgotten. He found occupation for his leisure in building the terrace already noticed, on a level with the o o 2 564 LIFE OF CHARLES THE FIFTH [book ir. second floor of liis mansion, planting it Avitli orange-trees, and ornamenting it with flowers and fountains, that filled the air with a cool and delicious fraorance. In early days Charles had been passionately fond of field- sports. He would follow the chase with such eagerness as to leave his attendants far behind, and sometimes to lose himself among the mountains. When he found his way back, led by some peasant guide late in the evening, lights were in the windows of all the houses, and the bells were ringing to call the people together to go in search of him. These were the days when he was accounted " the most perfect cavalier of his time ;" when a soldier-chronicler could lament that " the best lio-ht-horseman in the world was spoiled by Charles's having been born to a throne." It was in these days that he carried off the prizes at the Moorish tilt of reeds, and at the Christian tourney ; when, it was said, he even coveted the honours of the matador, and, with the national spirit of the old Castilian, would descend into the arena, and contend against the bull. But all this was changed ; and many a year had passed since the em{)eror had mounted his war-horse, or followed the chase in the German forests, or the wild passes of the Alpuxarras. In place of his noble stud, he had brought with him toYuste only a one-eyed pony and a mule. Once only did he venture into the saddle, when he was seized with a giddiness which compelled him hastily to dismount. The poor emperor was as little able to ride as to walk. Henceforth, his only mode of conveyance, when he went beyond the boundaries of the garden, was the litter or the arm-chair, — most frequently the latter, — borne by his attendants. Yet he would still occasionally endeavour to revive the recollections of his sporting days by an excursion into the ncighbonring woods, where he would do some execution on such birds as came within the range of his fowling-piece. Gaztehi, in a letter dated the fifth of .Tune, mentions, with great satisfaction, that his master had been 1557.] AFTER IIIS ABDICATION. 565 strong enougli to rise from liis scat witliout aid, and slioot two pigeons with his arqucbusc. The tranquillity of Charles's present way of life suited his taste so well, that he made arrangements not only for embellishing his house, but for extending it, and rendering it more comfortable as a permanent residence. A stove of curious construction was ordered to be sent from Quixada's place at Villagarcia, whither it had been brought from Flanders. A suit of tapestry from the Flemish looms, dis- playing the emperor's campaign against Tunis, which still adorns the queen's palace at Madrid, was also received at Yuste. Charles further amused himself with designs for an oratory, as well as with a more extended plan for a new building, which he intended for the reception of Philip when he should return to Spain. He looked forward with the greatest interest to a visit from his son, and talked to the monks of the arrangements that it would be necessary to make for the king's accommodation. Philip did indeed make his visit to the convent ; but not till twelve years had passed away, when his father had long since gone to his rest, and, after " life's fitful fever," lay quietly sleeping in the vaults of Yuste. THE LIFE OP CHARLES THE FIFTH AFTER HIS ABDICATION. BOOK III. Erroneous Opinious respecting Cliarles — His Interest in Public Affairs — ^Luis de Avila — Petty Annoyances — Visit of Fraucisco Borja — Charles's Memoirs of Himself — Visit of bis Sisters toYuste — Death of Queen Eleanor — Charles's Resignation of the Imperial Title — His Zeal for the Faith. It has been a commonly received opinion that Charles the Fifth, on entering his monastic retreat, conformed so far to the spirit of the place as to abjure all connexion with temporal concerns, and to devote himself entirely to the great work of his own salvation. This opinion found favour with the ancient chroniclers, who, as we have intimated, thought by it to enhance the value of the sacrifice made by a monarch who could descend from the proudest pinnacle of earthly grandeur to bury himself in a convent. " He was as completely withdrawn from the business of the king- dom and the concerns of the government," says one histo- rian, " as if he had never taken part in them ;" — " so entirely abstracted in his solitude," says another contem- porary, " that neither the arrival of the treasures brought in his fleets from the Indies, nor the sound of arms, amidst which his life had been hitherto passed, had any power to 1557.] LIFE OF CHAllLES THE FIFTH. 567 disturb his tranquillity." Yet the same writer tells us that, on one occasion, the minister Granvelle having remarked to Philip the Second that it was the anniversary of the day on which his father had abdicated the government, " True," replied the king, " and the anniversary also of the day on which he repented having done so." The incorrectness of these statements is proved by the letters of Charles himself, as well as by those of his household, from the convent of Yuste. When the monarch took up his abode am.ong the Jero- nymites, the affairs of Philip wore a gloomy and most disheartening aspect. We have seen, in a former chapter, the disgust expressed by Charles at the truce which the duke of Alva, when in the full tide of his victorious career, had made with the Roman pontiff, and which, the emperor pre- dicted, would only serve to give breathing-time to the enemy, and enable him to gather strength to renew the struggle. The French king had profited by it to push his army across the Alps, under the command of the duke of Guise, whose brilliant defence of JMetz, some years previous, against the best troops of Spain, with the emperor at their head, had established his military reputation. This gallant chieftain, descending towards the south, after a junction with the papal troops, crossed the frontiers of Naples, at the head of his army, and fell with pitiless fury on the flourish- ing towns and hamlets that lay along the borders. A con- siderable force, at the same time, under Coligni, governor of Picardy, menaced Flanders with invasion on the west ; while Solyman the Magnificent was invited to cooperate with the two Christian powers, and make a descent on the Spanish settlements on the INIeditcrranean, AVith the tempest thus gathering around him from every quarter, the young and inexperienced Philip naturally turned for support to the parent by whose sagacious counsels he had been guided through the whole of his life. He despatched his confiden- tial minister, K-uy Gomez, afterwards prince of Eboli, to 568 Ln-E or CHARLES THE FIFTH [book hi. Yuste, AYitli iDstructions to obtain from the emperor his advice as to the best mode of conducting the war. He was to soUcit him in the most humble manner, and to urge him with every argument he could think of, not merely to give his advice, but to leave the monastery for a time, and take up his residence in some place suited to his health, where, by his personal presence and authority, he might assume the direction of affairs. Such a step could not fail to insure success. The mere report of it would strike terror into the enemies of Spain, and disconcert their measures. Rny Gomez reached the convent on the twenty-third day of March, 1557. He was graciously received by Charles, who paid him the extraordinnry compliment of ordering Qnixada to prepare an apartment for him in the palace. Two days the accomplished envoy of Philip remained at Yuste ; and five hours of each day he passed in the cabinet of the emperor, who thus had full opportunity of communi- cating his own views in regard to the state of affairs, and the best mode of arranging the plan of the campaign. Ruy Gomez had been directed to state to Charles the embarrass- ments under which Philip laboured from the want of funds ; and as the attention of the latter was necessarily engaged by the operations in the field, the emperor was to be urged, with all the address of which the envoy was capable, to take charge of the financial department himself, to devise the means for raising the necessary supplies, and to superintend their punctual remittance to the scat of war. Charles had no mind to leave the quiet haven where he was now moored, and throw himself again on the troubled sea of political life. But he renewed a promise, which he had already made by letter to his son, to aid him by word and deed, as far as was in his power in his retirement. He engaged, moreover, to do all that he could in the way of providing him with money, " fearing," as he afterwards wrote, " he could be of little use to him in any other way." This, the most burdensome duty of government, was par- 1557.] AFTER HIS ABDICATION. 569 ticularly so in an age when the resources of a country were so Uttlc understood, and when, in default of any sure and well-arranged system of taxation, it was usual to resort to benevolences, monopolies, loans at exorbitant interest, and other temporary shifts, that entailed a heritage of woe on the nation. Of this Philip the Second himself lived long enough to have dismal experience. That the emperor should have taken charge, to any extent, of this department, is a sufficient refutation of those idle calumnies wdiich accuse the son of parsimony in his dealings with his father ; since it was not Philip Avho was to supply Charles with funds, but Charles who was to supply Philip. The emperor, faithful to his engagements, caused letters to be written — occasionally, when his fingers were in con- dition for it, WTiting with his owm hand — to his daughter, the regent, and to her secretary, Vazquez. In these he indicated the places to be defended, the troops to be raised, and the best mode of providing the funds. He especially recommended a benevolence from the clergy, and made application himself to some of the great dignitaries of the church. By these means considerable sums were raised, and remittances, under his vigorous direction, were forthwith made to the duke of Alva, who was thus enabled to prosecute the Italian campaign with vigour. In this w^ay did Charles, even in his retirement, render effectual service to his son. His counsels may be said to have directed the policy of the regent's court at Valladolid; and the des- patches from Yuste were held in much the same deference as the edicts which had formerly issued from the imperial cabinet. In his financial concerns, Charles experienced annoyance from a quarter whence he had little expected it. It was required that all the bullion brought home in the India fleets, whether on public or private account, should be lodged in the keeping of the Ca-sa de la Contratacion, or Board of Trade, at Seville. There it was duly registered ; and the govern- 570 LIFE OF CHARLES THE FIFTH [book in. nient had been in the habit of applying it to its own use, when the exigencies of the state seemed to require it, giving bonds to the owners by way of security for its repayment. At the present time, the amount of gold registered was no less than five millions of ducats, — an important fund, on which Philip relied for meeting the expenses of the war. But the merchants of Seville, to whom a great part of the treasure belonged, naturally preferring their gold to govern- ment paper, had, with the collusion of some of the officers of the Board of Trade, secretly transferred the bullion from the vaults where it was lodged to their own quarters. When PhiHp was made acquainted with this high-handed proceeding, his perplexity was extreme ; and he gave vent to his indignation in a letter to Joanna, in which he denounced the parties implicated as enemies to their coun- try, who " not only made war on the property of their sovereign, but on his honour and reputation." But Philip's indignation was light in comparison with the wrath of his father; or habit had enabled him to put a stronger curb on the indulgence of it. Charles regarded the transaction with the eye of a despotic prince, who sees only one side in a case where the government is a party ; and he held the merchants who had thus taken possession of their property as so many knaves who had robbed the exchequer. The officers who had connived at it he held as offenders of a still deeper dye. "Were it not for my infirmities," he writes to Joanna, " I would go to Seville myself, find out the authors of this villany, and bring them to a speedy reckon- ing." In a letter to the secretary Vazquez, he says, " The culprits should be arrested, ])ut in irons, and removed, under a strong guard, to Simancas, where they sliould be thrown into a dungeon, and their effects sequestrated, until the king's pleasure can be known." " Indeed," writes his secretary, Gaztelu, in another letter of the same date, " such is tlie enq)cror's indignation, and such are the violent and bloodthirsty expressions he commands me to use, that 1557.] AFTER HIS ABDICATION. 571 you will pardon mc if my language is not so temperate as it might be." The stern mandates were obeyed. The guilty function- aries were deposed from their offices, and imprisoned in Simancas, where one of their number perished miserably from the injuries he suffered on the rack. But the gold was not recovered. Cliarles, however, shrewdly provided against the recurrence of the proceeding, by ordering a vessel at once to be despatched to the Azores, where it would meet the India fleet on its return, and measures might be arranged for defeating any attempt of the mer- chants to recover their gold on its arrival at Seville. Cheering news now arrived from the seat of war. Tidings were brought to Yuste that the English had at length made common cause with Spain. The news, writes Gaztelu to the secretary Vazquez, gave infinite pleasure to his majesty, " who," he adds in the next sen- tence, " was no less delighted with the seeds you sent him, as he will now have plenty of melons, of which he is very fond, for his table next summer." Every new contribution to the imperial bill of fare, whether in the form of fruit or flesh, was sure to receive honourable mention in the despatches from Yuste. Soon after came the welcome intelligence of the victory of St. Quentin, where the constable Montmorency was made prisoner, and the flower of the Erench chivalry fell on the field of battle. The tidings caused a great sen- sation in the imperial household, and the joy of Charles was unbounded. He looked on it as an auspicious augury for the beginning of Philip's reign, like that great victory of Pavia which had heralded in his own. Pie rewarded the messenger who brought the news with sixty gold ducats and a chain of equal value. He caused processions to be formed by the monks, masses to be said in the chapel, and thanks to be offered up to Heaven for the glorious event. The only thing that damped his joy was the circum- 5/2 LIFE OF CHARLES THE FIFTH [book hi. stance of his son's absence from tlie fight. Philip had lamented this himself, in a letter to his father. He could not lament it more sincerely than Charles did. " He can- not be consoled," wrote Quixada, " for the king's absence on that day ; " — and the writer forthwith proceeds to curse the English as the cause of it. Charles loved his son too tenderly, or was too politic, to throw the blame upon him. Yet he nuist have felt that, had he been in Philip's place, no power on earth would have been strong enough to keep him from the field where so much glor}' was to be won. But he soon turned from the victory to the fruits of it. "His majesty," writes Quixada, "desires exceedingly to know what course his son has taken since the battle. He is very impatient on this point, and reckons that he must already be under the walls of Paris." He judged of Philip's temper by his own. But there was a wide difference be- tween them. Charles, bold and determined, would have pressed on towards the capital, while the enemy was stunned by the blow he had received. But Philip was sluo-n-ish in his movements. He was of a more cautious natm'e. Charles counted the chances of success. Philip calculated those of failure. He called to mind his father's invasion of Prance and his disastrous retreat; when the Spaniards, it was tauntingly said, " marched into the country feasting on turkeys, but were glad to escape from it feeding on roots." Instead of striking into the interior, therefore, Philip took the more prudent course of besieging the fortified places in the neighbourhood. In his operations, his father was of no small assistance to him, by exerting his authority, and by writing in the most pressing terms to the regent, to lose no time in making the remittances to the king, so essential to the success of the campaign. Yuste now became the centre of political movement. Couriers were constantly passing between that place and the courts of Brussels and Valhidolid. Envoys arrived at the convent, not only from those courts, but from foreign 1557.] AFTER HIS ABDICATION. ' 5/3 princes, to conduct negotiations with Charles in person. It came soon to be understood that the abdicated monarch was not immured in the ceil of a monk, and that his will still exercised a potent influence on public affairs. Many were the pilgrimages now made to Yuste by suitors, Avho came to request his good offices in their behalf, or by parties who sought redress of grievances, or by the great lords, who came simply to pay their homage to their former master. Among the latter was the old count of Ureila, who came with such a throng of servants and horses that Quixada found it no easy matter to provide for him. On the major-domo devolved all the duties of the commissariat, and, as no one lodged at Yuste, he was compelled to find accommodations for the visitors at Cuacos. " I am obli2:ed to play the landlord to every one wdio comes here," he com- plains in one of his letters, " and to act as the agent of every man in Spain." " Night never comes," he elsewhere la- ments, " without my feet aching more than I can bear, and there is not a day in which I am not on my legs at least half a dozen hours, waiting on the emperor, — to say nothing of the time spent in running here and there in the way of my vocation." When Charles's health permitted it, and he was in a cheerful mood, he usually gave a gracious recep- tion to his visitors. At other times he would refuse to see them, as was the case with the admiral of Aragon, who came to interest the emperor in his suit against the grand- master of the order of Montesa. On these occasions, he would turn them over to his major-domo, or refer them at once, for the settlement of their affairs, to the court of Brussels or Vahadolid. ''If he had given audience to all wdio came there," exclaims a Jeronymite chronicler then resident at the convent, " he would have turned Yuste itself into a court." There was one class of applicants who seemed to have a pecuhar claim on his attention, — the widows of the soldiers who had served under his banner in Africa and in Europe. 574 LIFE OF CHARLES THE FIFTH [book hi. The sight of these poor women, which called to mind the day of his military renown, seems to have touched the heart of the old campaigner ; and it was rare that their business did not speed as favourably as they could have desired. Among the visitors, two are deserving of particular notice from their personal relations with the emperor. One of these w-as Sepulveda, who, after officiating as his chap- lain, had been ap})ointed by Charles to the post of national historiographer. He was a man of learning, and preferred to write his works in the Latin tongue, thinking probably, with the English poet, that " Those who lasting marble seek Must carve in Latin or in Greek." He was distinguished, indeed, by such a fluent elegance of style, that he received the name of the Spanish Livy. Charles held the historian in great esteem, in proof of wdiich, as Sepulveda was getting old, the monarch ordered particular care to be taken that no harm should come to his manuscript, in case of its author's death before it had been put to the press. The emperor felt a solicitude, not unnatural in one who had performed so great achievements, as to the manner in which they might be presented on the page of history. Few w-riters who had hitherto dealt with his character had satisfied him. Two of the principal, Slcidan and Paulo Giovio, he used to call " his two liars," — the one because of his slanders, the other because of his flattery. He looked to Sepulveda to do him justice ; to do for him with his pen what Titian had done for him with his pencil, — exhibit him in his true proportions, and in a permanent form, to the eye of posterity. The historian had been lately raised to the dignity of arch-priest of Lcdesma. He had now come, after an absence of many years in Germany, to take possession of his benefice, and lay his bones in his native land. On his journey through the country, he 1557.] AFTER IllS ABDICATION. 575 deviated from liis route, in order to pay his respects to his ancient lord. He was kindly received by Charles, and, during the few days he passed at Yuste, Sepulveda, who seems at that time to have been employed on the emperor's biography, had the means of gathering some important in- formation from the sul)ject of his narrative. When, however, he proposed to read to Charles what he had already written, the monarch refused to listen to it. " 1 will neither hear nor read," said he, " what people have written of me. Others may do this, after I am gone. But if you wish for information on any point, you have only to ask, and I will willingly give it." How free he was from that petty vanity which, like a flaw in some noble piece of statuary, sometimes disfigures even the fairest character, may be seen, also, by his remarks to the historian Avila. That accom{)hshed courtier and soldier, who, after fighting by his master's side in his wars against the German protestants, had spread the fame of his exploits over Christendom by his elegant Commentaries, resided, as we have already seen, in the city of Plasencia. Here the weary statesman, withdrawn from public aff'airs, was passing the evening of his days in elegant retirement, embellishing his residence with costly works of art, and amusing his leisure with the composition of an historical work on the emperor's campaigns in Africa, which was to form a counter- part to his previous Commentaries. The work, much com- mended by those critics of the time who had access to it, has met with a fate by no means rare in Spain, and still remains in manuscript. As Plasencia was but a few leagues from Yuste, the grand-commander made frequent visits to the convent, where he was sure to receive a gracious wel- come from the emperor. Avila's splendid mansion in Plasencia was adorned with more than one picture com- memorating the deeds of his favourite hero. Among other subjects was the Battle of Renti, painted in fresco on one of the ceilings. This was a bloody fight, attended with so 376 LirE OF CHAULES THE FIFTH [book hi. doubtful an issue, that both sides claimed the victoiy. Avila, however, had no doubts on the matter, and, like a true-hearted hidalgo, had caused the French to be represented as put to a shameful rout, and flying off" the field, in all directions, before the conquering Spaniards. This did not altogether please the emperor, who, when Avila had described the picture to him, remarked that *' it was not correct ; that, far from being routed, the French had made a well-ordered retreat; and that the artist must go over his work again, and make it conformable to truth." There was no one of the household at Yuste who took so deep an interest in the progress of the campaign then going on in Picardy, as Charles himself. His first question on waking in the morning, was whether anything new had been received from the seat of war. He listened to the despatches with great attention, inquiring whether there was nothing further, and frequently causing them to be read to him more than once. He was always desirous to get letters from his son, and would sometimes complain that they were too short. Indeed, Philip, however attentive he may have been to the wishes and wants of his father in other respects, cannot be acquitted of a degree of negli- gence amounting almost to ingratitude, in not furnishing him with the information which he so much coveted in respect to the course of public events. Tlic letters which he wrote to his father while in Yuste did not exceed six in number. Philip, on the throne, did not find so much time for writing letters, as his father, at Yuste, did for reading them. The great interest, and indeed the active part, which Charles took in the management of afi'airs, led to the report that he was about to leave the convent and assume the com- mand of the army in Navarre. He seems to have taken no pains to contradict the rumour, thinking, perhaps, with Philip, that such an expectation might be of service to the cause. That it imposed on Avila seems pretty evident from a letter 1557.] AFTEU HIS ABDICATION. 577 of his, dated the thirteenth of August, to the secretary Vaz- quez. "I have left Brother Charles" he writes, "in a state of perfect tranquillity, and with full confidence in his strength. He thinks he has quite enough to enable hiui to leave the convent. Since I was there things may have changed ; but there is nothing of which I do not believe him capable, from the love he bears his son, as well as from his courageous heart and his early habits, for he has been nourished in war, as the salamander, they say, is bred in the fire." Quixada was not so easily duped by appearances. On his return from Villagarcia, where he had been to visit his family, he wrote : " As to what people here say of his majesty's quitting the place, there are no grounds for it. I observe no change in him ; but, on the contrary, a decided feeling of contentment and repose. If he has said anything to encourage the idea, it must have been from mere policy. The thing is impossible." Navarre, thus assigned as the theatre on which Charles was to make his reappearance before the world, was the subject of a long and perplexing negotiation at Yuste. The country was a conquest of his grandfather, Ferdinand the Catholic, and now formed an integral part of the Spanish monarchy. The emperor had always entertained some doubt — as well he might — of the justice of this acquisition, and some scruples of conscience as to his right to retain it. These scruples, however, w^re not by any means so power- ful as to compel him to a restitution. They w^ere, indeed, such as might be said rather to tease than to torment his conscience ; and he quieted them altogether by means of a secret clause in his wall, dated some years before his abdica- tion, in which he enjoined on his successor to look carefully into the matter, and do what was right in it. Having thus happily relieved his conscience of all further responsibility in the affair, he seems to have discharged it from his thoughts. It was, however, again brought before him by the aggrieved party. VOL. II. P P 578 LirE OF CHAELES THE FIFTH [book hi. The riglit of the dethroned family had vested in Antony of Bourbon, dake of Vendome, ^vho had married the heiress of the house of Albret. This prince, styled by the Prench writers, king of Navarre, would willingly have exchanged his barren sovereignty for a substantial consideration, like the duchy of j\lilan, or some other territory which the Spanish crown possessed in Italy. This was the object of a negotiation brought before Charles by the duke's emis- saries at Burgos, resumed afterwards at Jarandilla, and finally conducted with great pertinacity and prolixity at Yuste. It was not the purpose of the Spanish government either to make restitution or compensation to Vendome. But he was still possessed of that portion of the patrimony of the house of Albret which lay north of the Pyrenees ; and were he to throw himself into the arms of France, he might afford obvious facilities to the enemy for an invasion of Navarre, It was well, therefore, to amuse him by en- couraging his hopes, so as to gain time. " At all events, wrote the emperor to his daughter, " we cannot fail to profit by drawing out the negotiations as long as possible." When, however, Navarre had been put in a proper posture of de- fence, and the army was sufficiently strengthened to resist invasion, the government took a more decided tone ; and the conferences were abruptly closed by Charles, who ordered Vendome to be told that, " since he had rejected the pro- posals made to him, neither the emperor nor his son would have anything more to do with him." — It is evident that the crafty policy which had distinguished the emperor on the throne did not desert him in the cloister. The tidings from Italy were now of the most encouraging kind. Every courier brought accounts of fresh successes of the duke of Alva. That able commander, with the help of the funds remitted from Spain, for which he was greatly indebted to Charles's exertions, had got together a force large enough to enable him to make head against his rival, the duke of Guise. He accordingly marched rapidly towards 1557.] AFTER HIS ABDICATION. 579 the north. As he advanced, the phiccs which had been con- quered by the French threw open their gates to receive him. Guise hardly waited for his arrival ; and Alva, without the hazard of a battle, drove his enemy across the borders. He then fell with his wdiolc strength on the papal territory. City and hamlet went down before him; and Paul the Fourth, from his palace of the Vatican, might descry the course of the enemy's march by the smoking ruins of the Campagna. The duke even brought his victorious legions lip to the gates of the capital. For a few hours the fate of Rome trembled in the balance, as the Spanish gen3ral threatened to repeat the bloody drama wliicli had been acted by the constable of Bourbon, and which still lingered in the memory of many a Roman. The panic of the inhabitants was fearful. With frantic cries they called on Paul to come to terms with the enemy. The arrogant pontiff saw that the mood of the people was a dangerous one, and that no alternative remained but to submit. In this hour of humi- liation, the clemency — the superstition of his enemies con- verted his humiliation into triumph. Philip had long felt that there was neither profit nor honour to be gained from a war with the pope. Nothing, indeed, but the reckless violence of Paul could have forced him into a war with the Church, opposed, as such a step was, to both his principles and his established policy. It was as the champion of the Church, not as its assailant, that Philip Avould stand before the world. He instructed Alva to extricate him from his present position by coming to terms as soon as possible with his holiness. A treaty w^as accordingly, signed, on the fourteenth of September, by which it was agreed that all conquests made from the Church should be restored to it, and that the Spanish com- mander should publicly ask pardon for having borne arms against the Holy See. It was a treaty, as Alva bluntly remarked, "that seemed to have been dictated by the vanquished rather than the victor." There was no help p p 2 580 LIFE OP CHATILES THE FIFTH [book hi. for it, however. The orders of PhiUp were peremptory ; and Paul the Foui'th, after all his disasters, had the satis- faction of seeing his enemy sue for forgiveness on his knees, and of granting him absolution. " Had I been king," said Alva, indignant at the humiliation, " his holi- ness should have sent one of his nephews to Brussels to sue for my pardon, instead of my general's having to sue for his." The news of the peace was received with joy throughout Spain, where the inhabitants seemed to be as anxious as their sovereign for a reconciliation with Rome. The tidings were everywhere greeted wdth illuminations, bonfires, ringing of bells, and solemn processions. Joanna, with the infant Don Carlos, assisted at two of these latter, of which an account was sent by the secretary Vazquez to Yuste ; where despatches were also received containing the terms of the treaty. They made a very different impression on the emperor from what they had done on the public. He had never shared in his son's scruples in regard to the war. " It was a just war," he said. " The pope could not have dealt worse with Philip if he had been a heretic; and he stood excused, before God and man, from the conse- quences of a w^ar into which he had been driven by neces- sity." It was even a matter of regret at Yuste, when a courier arrived from Italy, that he brought no tidings of the death of Paul or of his mischievous counsellors, the Caraffas ! ^ If he had learned that Rome had been sacked by Alva, as it had formerly been by his own troops under Bourbon, it would probably have disturbed him less than the terms of the present treaty. As he listened to the despatches, lie could not repress ' "Del Papa y de CarafTa sc sicntc Carta de Martin dcGaztclua Vazqnoz aqui que no liaya llci^ado la niicva dc dc ^lolina, S dc Novicmbrc, lo.jfi, MS. que se han niuorto, (juo cs liarto dano I give the original, as 1 have not quo sc dcscc csto ii uu Vicario de Jesus scon this remarkable passage quoted Cristo, y en Espafia, y muciio mayor elsewhere, and tiic Ictler containing it que dc ocasiou el Papa para ello." is not in Gachard's printed collection. 1557.] ArTER HIS ABDICATION. 581 liis indignation. The secret articles, lie said, were as scandalous as the public. Not a day passed, for a month afterwards, according to Quixada, without his muttering between his teeth in tones scarcely audible, but plainly intimating his discontent. When he was told that Alva was preparing to quit his government at Naples and return home, " his anger," says the secretary, " was more than was good for his health." Some time afterwards, the grand- commander Avila brought him a letter from the duke, in which he expressed the hope that he might be allowed, on his return, to kiss the hand of his majesty. On this Charles did not vouchsafe a remark ; and, when Avila would have read some particulars which the duke com- municated in regard to the treaty, the emperor would not listen to them, — saying, he had heard too much already. The reader has seen enough to be a"ware that the emperor's anger was misdirected ; that it should have fallen, not on the duke, who only obeyed orders, but on the king, Avho gave them. Yet no reflection on his son's conduct escaped his lips ; and as it was necessary that his wrath should find some object on which to expend itself, Alva, the agent Avho carried the obnoxious measures into execution, became the scape-goat. Charles, indeed, seems to have persuaded himself that he deserved to be so. When the monarch learned, shortly before his death, that his son had bestowed on his general the sum of a hundred and fifty thousand ducats, " He has done more for the duke," exclaimed the emperor, " than the duke ever did for him." Unfortunately, at the time of receiving the Italian news, the emperor was smarting under an attack of gout, — the more severe, perhaps, from the long interval wdiich had elapsed since the preceding one. The disturbance caused by the unwelcome tidings no doubt aggravated the dis- order ; and his bodily pains by no means served to allay 582 LIFE OP CHAHLES THE FIETH [book hi. tlie irritation of his temper. " It was the sharpest attack," he said, "he had ever experienced." Sixteen ounces of blood were taken from him, by his physican, on one day ; and Quixada, who feared the consequences of his master's plethoric habit and self-indulgence at the table, expressed a wish that, instead of sixteen ounces, it had been thirty. To add to Charles's disgust at this time, he was exposed to some of those petty annoyances that are often quite as trying to the temper as those of a more serious nature. The inhabitants of the adjoining village of Cuacos seem to have been a rude, unmannerly race, showing but little of the reverence that might have been expected for the illus- trious recluse who had taken up his residence in their neighbourhood. They seized and impounded his cattle when they strayed from their pastures. They fished in the streams which were reserved to supply his table with trout. They plundered his orchards, quarrelled with his domestics, — in short, contrived in a hundred ways to inflict on him those annoyances of which he had had no experience until he descended into a private station. This was rendered the more disagreeable from the fact that the people of Cuacos had been, in a peculiar manner, the subjects of the emperor's bounty since his residence among them. From the time he came to Yuste he had been in the habit of appropriating a part of his revenue to charitable uses, dispensing a liberal sum, through his almoner, for the relief of the peasantry in the For/, releasing poor debtors from prison, and provid- ing marriage portions for the young maidens. Cuacos, where many of his household lodged, had reaped the full benefit of his charities. There was abundant occasion for them during the first summer of Charles's convent life, when the crops failed to such an extent that many persons actually perished of famine. 'I'lie distress of the peasantry was so great, that they were driven to plunder the emperor's siunpter mules on the way to the convent. At his request the govern incut liad appointed a magis- 1557.] AETER niS ABDICATION. 583 trate to act as a sort of rural judge of the district, with autliority to decide in cases in which the emperor was a party. By his assistance, several of the culprits were brought to justice; but, through Charles's interposition, the punishment was a light one, A depredation of a serious nature was committed in his own house, where eight hundred ducats were purloined from his coffers. The theft must have been perpetrated by one of his family ; and the judge recommended the application of the torture, — the most effectual mode of extracting evidence in that day. Tlie emperor, however, would not consent to it, and put a stop to further proceedings, wisely remarking, at the same time, that " there were some cases in which it was as well not to know the truth." On the eleventh of June diea John the Third, king of Portugal. He had married the emperor's youngest sister, Catherine, whom he entrusted by his will, both with the regency of the kingdom and the guardianship of his grand- son, and infant heir to the crown, Don Sebastian, — the prince whose quixotic adventures and mysterious fate, turning history into romance, furnish the most extraordi- nary pages in the Portuguese annals. The young prince was also grandson of Charles, being the child of his daugh- ter, Joanna, and the only fruit of her short-lived union with the prince of Portugal. Joanna felt herself much aggrieved by the will of her father-in-law, conceiving that she had a better title than Queen Catherine both to the regency and to the guardianship of the boy. She accord- ingly sent an envoy, Don Fadrique Henriquez de Guzman, charged with letters to the queen regent and to some of the great lords, in which she set forth her pretensions. Don Fadrique stopped at Yuste to acquaint the emperor with the purport of his mission. Charles saw at once the mischief that might arise from the interference of his daughter in this delicate business. Without hesitation he took possession of the despatches, and substituted others 584 LIFE OF CHARLES THE FIFTH [book hi. in tlieir place, addressed to the queen, his sister, in which ho condoled with her on her late bereavement, and offered the consolations of an affectionate brother. At the same time, he wrote to his danghter, stating what he had done, and gently rebuking her for an interference which might well lead to a serious misunderstanding between the courts of Spain and Portugal. He concluded his paternal homily by reminding her how important it was for members of the same family to maintain an affectionate intercourse with one another. The course so promptly taken by Charles, on this occasion, shows how absolute was the control which he exercised in his seclusion, and the defer- ence which was paid to it even by persons highest in authority. While the emperor thus wisely stopped the negotiations of his daughter, he opened one on his own account with the queen-regent of Portugal. The object of this was to secure to his grandson, Carlos, the succession to that crown in case of the death of the young Sebastian. This would unite under one sceptre the different states of the Peninsula. The project failed ; for the national spirit of the Portuguese, always jealous of their Spanish neighbours, made it too hazardous for Catherine to entertain it for a moment ; and Charles was persuaded by her arguments to renounce it. It was a grand idea, however, that of thus bringing together two nations, which, by community of race, language, and religion, would seem originally to have been designed for one. It shows how, in the depth of the cloisters, Charles's comprehensive mind was occupied with the interests of his country. Events were not ripe for such a consummation. Put it would have gladdened tlie hctu't of the great emperor, could he have foreseen tliat a (juarter of a century would not elapse before it would be achieved by his own son. The man wlioni Charles had employed on this delicate and confidential mission was no otlier than his friend Francisco Borja. The good father chose to perform his 1557.] APTER HIS ABDICATION. 585 journey on foot ; and tlie fatigue of travel threw liim into a fever, which had well-nigh ended his earthly pilgrimage. On his return, he passed some two or three days at Yuste, where he was cordially welcomed ; for between the imperial recluse and the noble Jesuit similarity of circumstances had created a sympathy such as existed between Charles and no other person. Brother Francis, if we may take the word of his biographers, even received the extraordinary compliment of being lodged in the palace, Avhcre he was supplied, each day, with a dish from the emperor's table. The conversation of the two friends naturally turned on the circumstances of their situation. In the course of it, the emperor regretted that his infirmities were such as not to allow him to perform the penance he wished, by dis- pensing with a bed and lying in his clothes all night. Brother Francis slept in his frock, and on a board. " It is," replied the Jesuit, in the courtly strain which savoured of his early breeding, " because your majesty has so long watched in your armour, that you cannot now sleep in your clothes. But, Heaven be praised ! you have done more good by the vigils you have kept in defence of the Faith, than was ever done by m.onks who have slept all night in hair-cloth." Some allusion having been made to Borja's children, Charles was surprised to find how entirely his friend's devotion to his new calling had absorbed his sympathies, to the exclusion of those who were nearest, and should have been dearest, to him. It was otherwise with the emperor, whose attachment to his own family was in no degree blunted by his cloister life. One curious point of casuistry was submitted by the monarch to his guest. Charles wished to know if there could be anything wrong in a man's writing his own biography, provided it were done in good faith, and nothing set down from vanity. He had written his me- moirs, he added, but from no desire of self-glorification, 586 LIFE or CHABLES THE FIETH [book nr. but simply to correct sundry errors wliicli had been cir- culated of him, and to exhibit his conduct in its true light. " Should you find," he said, " that my pen has been guided by secret vanity, — for I am aware that the heart is a great deceiver in these matters, — I would throw it down at once, and give what I have written to the wind, since it would be as empty as the wind." One would have liked to be edified by the father's answer, which, unfortunately, has not been preserved. We can hardly imagine that he could have insisted on the sup- pression of a work conducted on such sound principles, and of such interest to the world. But it has never come to lifi-ht. That Charles did write such an autobiography, or a portion of it, is proved by other evidence. His learned chamberlain, Van Male, assures his correspondent that his master, when sailing on the Rhine, wrote an account of his journeys and his military expeditions to as late a date as 1550. A work compiled under such circumstances could have been little more than a sketch, — unless we suppose that the composition then begun was completed in the leisure of later years. That it was something more than a fragment, seems probable from the general tone of Van Male's remarks, who commends it, moreover, for the elegance of the style, as well as for its dignified tone and its fidelity to historic truth. The admiring chamberlain deeply regrets that the emperor will not give his produc- tion to the public, but "keeps it locked under a hundred keys." It seems, however, he obtained his master's con- sent to make a Latin translation of the work, which, with nuich self-complacency, he proposes to execute in " a style tliat should combine the separate merits of Tacitus, Livy, Suetonius, and Ca3sar." Unhappily, the world was not destined to profit by this rare style of composition ; for, on his master's death, Luis Quixada — as tlie poor chamberlain used afterwards to 1557.] AFTEU HIS ABDICATION. 587 complain with tears in his eyes — entered his apartment and carried off the emperor's manuscript. He remem- bered enough of its contents, he was wont to add, to compose another memoir of the emperor, whicli he in- tended to do. On his death, which occurred only two years later, Philip ordered that the poor gentleman's papers should be searched, and that any which might be found relating to the emperor should be sent to him, to be tlirown into the fire. No such memoir was found, how- ever ; and the report ran that Van Male had burnt most of his papers before his death. It may seem strange that Philip should have desired to destroy a history of his father, compiled by one who, from his daily intercourse with him, had enjoyed the best means of information. Perhaps it was for that very reason that he wished to destroy it. Van Male had been behind the scenes, where the purple was laid aside. Philip considered that a king was hedged round with a peculiar sanctity, which the prying eye of the vulgar was not to penetrate. He would have his father presented to the world as a hero ; and no man, he knew, was a hero to his valet de cltamhre'} What was the precise character of Charles's autobio- graphy, we have no means of determining. War had been the great business of his life ; and, from the hints dropped by Van Male, it is not improbable that the work consisted of military memoirs, fashioned, it may be, on Caesar's Com- mentaries, which he held in great esteem, and a translation of which was among the small collection of volumes he 2 M. Gacliard, in the second volume firms the truth of Van Male's ou'n of his " Retraite et Mart de Charles- statement, and leads very naturally to Quint,''' (Preface, p. 150,) which has the conclusion tliat amonsf these papers made its appearance since the text was the memoir of Charles the Fifth. above was written, notices, as one of Of their subsequent fate we know the items in an inventory of the em- nothing. But this should not surprise peror's effects prepared by order of his us. There is more than one well- executors, a velvet bag containing attested instance on record of Philip's papers formerly in the possession of having destroyed documents that he Van Male, and taken from him by did not care should meet the eye of Luis Quixada, and afterwards placed posterity, in the hands of the kin?. This con- 588 LIFE or CHARLES THE EIFTH [book hi. took with him to Yiiste. But ho\yever this may be, any- thing relating to the times, from the pen of one who may be said to have controlled the politics of Europe for nearly half a century, would be of inestimable value ; and the loss of such a work must be deplored by every friend of science. In the latter part of September, Yuste was honoured by the presence of the emperor's two sisters, the dowager queens of France and Hungary. When he had been ad- vised of their coming, considering that the palace would afford no accommodation for the royal ladies with their numerous train, he ordered Quixada to find lodgings for them at Jarandilla, — probably in the same hospitable halls of Oropesa where he had himself found a shelter. The poor major-domo, who found it no easy matter to provide for the royal household from the famine- stricken Vera, was driven to his wits' ends by the prospect of the new demands that were to be made on his larder. " We can give their majesties plenty of ice," he wrote to his friend, the secre- tary of state, " and that is the greatest dainty we can give them." Charles, who had not seen his sisters since he parted from them at Valladolid, received them with much kindness. To Eleanor, the ex-queen of France and Portugal, he was particularly attached. Her gentle manners and amiable character made her generally beloved. Mary's masculine understanding rendered her a more fitting companion for his business hours. She was often closeted with him in his cabinet, where they would read over together the latest despatches from the seat of war. Charles deferred much to her judgment, which had been sharpened by long prac- tice in afi'airs of government, lie seems to have always entertained a high opinion of the capacity of the sex. Mis earliest years had been spent at the court of a woman, his aunt, JNlargarct of Savoy, who swayed the viceregal sceptre of the Netherlands with great abiUty ; and when it passed into the hands of Mary, she acquitted herself with 1557.] AFTER HIS ABDICATION. 589 no less credit in a post that proved so embarrassing to lier snccessors. Indeed, Charles had so high an opinion of his sister that he would willingly have associated her in the regency of Spain with his daughter Joanna, who had by no means the efficiency of her aunt, — perhaps the em- peror may have thought not enough for the present critical time. She had spirit enough, however, to decline any part- ner in the government, much more her aunt of Hungary, who, she said, " was so ambitious of power that she should find herself very soon reduced to a cipher." The project, accordingly, was abandoned. Mary requited her brother's confidence by regarding him with feelings little short of idolatry, — speaking of him as " her all in this world after God." During nearly three months which the royal matrons passed at Jarandilla, Eleanor was prevented by her feeble health from visiting the convent more than tAvo or three times. Her more robust sister, fond of the saddle, and in- different to the weather, would often gallop through the autumnal woods of Yuste, and pass a few hours with the emperor, rarely, however, staying long enough to enliven his solitary repast with her presence. Indeed, it docs not appear that she received much encouragement to do so. After the queens had been a few days at Jarandilla, Quixada inquired of his master whether it would not be better to provide quarters for them at Yuste. But Charles replied, that it was best as it was ; that they could come over and transact their business when they had a mind, and then go back again. " And since that is his majesty's will in the matter," concludes the major-domo, " there is nothing further to be said." While at Jarandilla, arrangements were made for an interview between Eleanor and the infanta, ]\Iary of Portugal, her only daughter, by Emmanuel the Great. It was twenty-five years since she had seen her child, and she longed, with a mother's yearning, to have her remove 590 LIFE OE CHARLES THE EIETH [book in. to Spain, where the queen, clurmg the brief remainder of her days, might enjoy the consolation of her daughter's society. But Mary, who had been born and bred in Portugal, where she continued after her widowed mother had given her hand to Francis the First, had no mind to leave her native land, still less to live in Spain. It had once been proposed to unite her to her cousin Philip, and she may have re- sented the indignity put on her by that prince, when, in obedience to his politic father, he had transferred his heart — at least his hand — from Mary of Portugal to his kins- woman, Mary of England. It is certain, too, that the infanta was much under the influence of the clergy, who profited too largely by her benefactions to wish to see her transfer her residence to Castile. The free hand with which she applied her revenues to religious uses gained for her a reputation little short of that of a saint. But, like some other saints, Mary seemed to think that the favour of Heaven was best to be propitiated by the sacrifice of earthly ties. However submissive to the Church she might be, she was far from being a dutiful or affectionate daughter. The affair became the subject of an extensive corres- pondence, in which the emperor took part, soothing by turns the irritation of the mother and of the daughter, and endeavouring to bring them nearer to each other. In the end, after a negotiation as long and embarrassing as if a treaty between nations had been the subject, he had the satisfaction of seeing a meeting arranged between the parties in the frontier town of Badajoz. The infanta would consent to no spot farther removed from Portugal. The meeting was to take place in the coming spring ; and, on the fourteenth of December, the two queens rode over to the convent to take leave of their brother, preparatory to their departure. Besides their usual train, he provided them witli an escort, consisting of the count of Oropcsa with other nobles and cavaliers, to accompany them to the 1557.] AETEli HIS ABDICATION. 591 place of interview. There they found the infanta, attended by a brilliant retinue of the great lords and ecclesiastics of Portugal, intimating the high consideration which she enjoyed in that country. A detachment from this body she sent forward to Yuste, to bear her compliments to her uncle, the emperor. The fond mother had the happiness of embracing the child from whom she had been separated for so many years. Both she and her sister ]\Iary gave substantial proofs of their affection in the magnificent presents which they lavished on the infanta. Among these were jewels given by Queen Eleanor, of the value of fifty thousand gold ducats. But neither presents, nor caresses, nor the tears of her mother, had any power to touch the heart of the infanta. She would not relent in her original purpose of remaining in Portugal. Nor would she prolong the interview beyond three weeks, at the end of which she bade a last adieu to her mother and her aunt ; and, turning her back for ever on Spain, she retraced her steps to Lisbon. Her disconsolate parent, attended by the queen of Hungary, set out on a pilgrimage to Guadalupe, but had hardly gone a few leagues, when she was attacked by a fever, caused in part, no doubt, by the agitation of her mind, which was soon attended with the most alarming symptoms. While this was passing, the little community of Yuste was astounded by tidings of a disastrous character from France. The duke of Guise, mortified by the result of the Italian campaign, was desirous, by some brilliant achieve- ment, to efface the memory of his disasters, and to raise the drooping spirits of the nation. The enterprise he pro- posed was the recovery of Calais, — that stronghold on the French soil where England had planted her foot immovably for more than two centuries. The recovery of this place at some future day liad been the fond hope in which the French had indulged, like that once entertained by the Moriscos on the Barbary coast of the recovery of the lost 592 LITE or CHARLES THE FIFTH [book in. kingdom of Granada. It was a hope, however, rather than an expectation. The EngHsh, on their part, were confident in the impregnable character of the place, as was implied by an inscription in bronze on the gates, which boasted that "tlie French would never besiege Calais till lead and iron should swim like cork." It was this confidence which proved their ruin. Guise conducted his movements with silence and celerity. He mustered his forces, marched upon Calais in the dead of winter, and, when an enemy was least expected, presented himself before the gates. It was the first day of January, 1558. The forts which covered the place were stormed; and the town, shorn of its defences, fell an easy prey into the hands of the victors. A single week had sufficed for the conquest of the strong post which had defied the arms of England under Edward the Third for nearly a twelve- month. Tlie report of this brilliant coup-de-mam filled the country with unbounded joy. The heart of every Erenclnnan swelled with exultation, as he learned that the foul stain was at length wiped away from the national scutcheon. The English were in the same proportion depressed by the tidings ; and Philip might well tremble for the Netherlands, as he saw the bulwark removed which had hitherto served to stay the tide of invasion on that quarter. Ill news is said to travel apace. And it may be thought strange that, even in that age, an event of such interest as the loss of Calais should have been more than three weeks in getting to the regent at Valladolid, and still tlu'cc days more in reaching Yuste. It must be admitted to form a striking contrast to tlic electric speed with which intelligence is communicated in our day. The news reached Yuste on the tliird of February. Charles was at tlie time in a low state, not having rallied as yet from liis hist attack of gout, — the second which lie had had during the winter. Though supported by cushions in 1558.] ' AFTER HIS ABDICATION. 593 his easy-chair, he said, " the pain pierced to the very bones." The courier who brought the tidings of the loss of Calais arrived in the evening. Quixada deferred communicating them to his master till the next morning, lest they should cause him a sleepless niglit. lie judged right. Charles said, when the news was told to him, " that nothing he had ever heard had given him so much pain." It was not the loss of Calais simply that he deplored. His eye glanced to the consequences. He saw in imagination the French sw^eeping across the borders, and carrying devastation up to the very gates of Brussels. As far back as November, having heard of preparations in France, he had warned the government that an attempt would probably be made by the enemy to recover some of the places he had lost. He did not now waste his time in idle lament. Feeble as he was, he at once sent despatches to Valladolid, urging the regent to lose no time in forwarding remittances to her brother, as on them must depend his power of keeping the field, and protecting the Netherlands against invasion. " I know," concluded Charles, " that you will require no arguments of mine to make you use all diligence in the matter. But I cannot help writing j for I feel so sensibly what may be the consequences of the late disaster, that I shall have no more peace till I learn what has been done to repair it." Thus stimulated, the government at Valla- dolid made extraordinary efforts ; and such large remit- tances of funds were promptly sent to Philip, as enabled him to keep on foot a force of sufficient strength to cover the frontier, and in the end — after his father's death — to dictate the terms of a peace as honom-able to Spain as it was inglorious to the enemy. While affairs abroad were in this gloomy condition, Charles was more keenly distressed by tidings of a domestic calamity. This was the death of his sister, the queen of France, The fever which had interrupted her journey, and confined her in a little town only three leagues from Badajoz, VOL. II. Q Q 594 LIFE OF CHAKLES THE FIFTH [book hi was aggravated by an attack of asthma, to Avhich disease she had long been subject. The symptoms became every day more unfavourable. The compUcated malady baffled all the skill of her physician ; and it was soon evident that Eleanor's days were numbered. Gaztelu, the emperor's secretary, had been sent by him with despatches for the queen of Hungary. He arrived just in time to receive the last instructions of her sister. He found the dying queen in full possession of her faculties, waiting with resignation for the hour when her gentle spirit should be released. She charged the secretary with many tender remembrances for her brother, whom she besought with all humihty, by the love he had always borne her, to watch over the interests of her child when slie should be no more here to do it herself. Her last thoughts were occupied with the daughter who had made so poor a requital for her tender- ness. By her will she made her the sole heir to the extensive estates she possessed both in France and Spain, which, combined Avith the large domains belonging to the infanta in Portugal, made her the most splendid match in Christendom. But though proposals were made for her alliance with more than one prince, it Avas the destiny of Mary of Avis to live and die a maid. Slie survived her mother but a few years ; and the greater part of her princely patrimony she devoted, at her death, to the en- dowment of convents and chapels, and other religions uses, for which she is held in reverence by the Portuguese chroniclers, and her memory cherished as that of one who had died in the odour of sanctity. The emperor, at the time of his sister's illness, was suft'eiing from a fourth attack of gout, no doubt nuich exasperated by the state of his mind. It was so severe as to confine him for more than a fortnight to his bed. To add to his distress, his mouth was exceedingly inflamed, and his tongue swollen, so that he could take little other nourishment than sweetened biscuit. With this dismal 1558.] AFTER HIS ABDICATIOK 595 cheer he kept the fcfe of St. Matthias, the twenty-fourtli of February, — his own birthday, — in strong contrast to the joyous manner in which he had celebrated the same anniversary in the preceding year. Charles was greatly afflicted by the news of his sister's death. Though not accustomed to exhibit his emotions, his eyes filled with tears, as he spoke of her to his secretary, Gaztelu. " She was a good Christian," he said. " We always loved each other. She was older than I by fifteen months ; and before that time has elapsed I shall ])robably be with her." In less than half that time the sad prediction was fulfilled. The queen of Hungary was overwhelmed by the blow ; and she resolved to repair to Yuste, to seek consolation in the society of her brother. This time he determined to lodge her in the palace, and he gave the major-domo directions accordingly. Charles had sent to Valladolid for mourning, as he intended to put his whole household into black ; and he was anxious that it should come before queen Mary's arrival. He seemed to look forward with a sort of nervous apprehension to their meeting. " I shall never feel that my sister is dead," he said to Quixada, " till I see the queen of Hungary enter the room alone." Both parties were much affected at the interview. But the emperor endeavoured to repress his emotions, while his sister gave free indulgence to hers. The queen was lodged, as her brother had ordered, in an apartment on the lower floor. Her retinue were quartered in Cuacos and Jarandilla, where their presence, greatly increasing the burdens of the commissariat depart- ment, gave little joy to its chief. Unfortunately, it was the season of Lent. " It is no light matter in Estremadura," says the unhappy functionary, " to keep open house in Lent, when fish is the only thing in request. The fish- market of Cuacos is somewhat different from that of Antwerp or Brussels. But we must do the best we can." Q Q 2 596 LIFE or CHARLES THE EIETH [book hi. He concludes by expressing a wish that the secretary Vazquez, to Avhoiu he is writing, would send " a supply of fresh salmon, if any can be had, or any other dainty, — above all, herrings, both dry and salt, of which his majesty is especially fond." In a week after this we find a letter from Dr. Mathys, the physician, in which, after some remarks on his master's improved health, as the gout had begun to yield, the writer adds, in a doleful tone, that the emperor had already begun to stimulate his appetite with salt meats, garlic, herrings, and other provocatives, which had always proved so ruinous to his stomach. Queen Mary protracted her stay for nearly a fortnight. She then took leave of her brother — a final leave — for they were never again to meet in this Avorld. She established her residence in the neighbourhood of Valladolid. The emperor, at Philip's solicitation, earnestly pressed her to return to the Netherlands and to resume the regency, for which she had proved herself so well qualified. With great reluctance, she at last gave her consent, under certain conditions ; but her death prevented the execution of the plan, and saved her from the humiliating scenes to which her successor, Margaret of Parma, was exposed by the revolutionary troubles of the country. Mary, who died of a disease of the heart, much aggravated by the suffering she had of late experienced, survived her brother but a few weeks. In the brief space of two years from the time when the emperor and his sisters had landed in Spain, the earthly career of all of them was closed. In the month of April, Charles received the intelligence that his renunciation of the empire had at last been accepted. At the time of abdicating his other crowns, he had been persuaded by Phili[) to defer his resignation of the imperial sceptre for the present. For a short time he consented to retain the title of " emperor," devolving all the real power on his brother Perdinand, king of the Romans, who was to succeed him on the throne. AYhcn the Prcnch war broke 1558.] AFTER HIS ABDICATION. 597 out, Philip, with still more reason, was desirous that his father should retain the sovereignty of Germany. But Charles had already sent his resignation to the electoral college, and he would take no steps to postpone the meeting of that body. Various circumstances, however, conspired to delay this meeting, and it was not till the twelfth of March, 1558, that the diet, having accepted the renun- ciation of Charles, finally elected Ferdinand as his successor. It is another proof of the tardy pace at which news travelled in that day, that the tidings of an event of so much interest did not reach Yuste till the twenty-ninth of April. One might have thought that the intelligence would have passed from mouth to mouth in less than half the time that it is stated to have taken to send it by the courier. That this was not so, can only be explained by the low state of com- mercial intercourse in that day, and by the ignorance of the great mass of the people, which prevented them from taking an interest in public affairs. It was with undisguised satisfaction that Charles wel- comed the tidino-s of an event that released him from the shadow of sovereignty ; for it was only the shadow^ that had followed him to Yuste. He wrote at once to Valladolid, directing that all despatches hereafter should be addressed to him as a private individual, not as emperor. He ordered that two seals should made, without crown, eagle, or other imperial device, but simply with the arms of Spain quar- tered with those of Burgundy, intimating his descent by father's and mother's side. He commanded the escutcheons and other insio-nia to be removed from the walls of his convent palace, and the name of Ferdinand to be substi- tuted for his own in the prayers of the Church and the service of the mass. He was so punctilious, that when the ladies of Cuacos presented him with a basket of flowers fancifully disposed so as to represent the imperial crown, he would not allow it to stand in his apartment till the llowers had been re-arranged by the gardener in some 598 LIFE OF CHARLES THE FIFTH [nooK iii. other form. He called his household together, and informed them of Ferdinand's election, adding, " As for me, the name of Charles is enough ; henceforth I am nothing." To his domestics it seemed as if this renunciation of worldly- grandeur was, in some sort, a preparation for death ; and many of them were affected to tears. Even the monks, according to the testimony of one of their number, could not perform mass without being sensibly touched, as they substituted the name of Ferdinand for that of their beloved emperor. It was at this time that Charles received the alarming intelligence that the protestant doctrines, which had been convulsing the neighbouring countries of Christendom, had at leno-th found their wav across the Pyrenees, and were secretly, but by no means slowly, sapping the foundations of the Church. The heretics had even been so audacious as to begin their operations in Valladolid, under the very eye of the regent. The cry was raised, and the bloodliounds of the Holy Office were already on the scent to ferret out the offenders, and drag them into day. Charles, whose life had been passed in battling against the heresy of Luther, was filled with horror at the idea of its even then infecting the atmosphere which he breathed. To get rid of the infection by the speediest way possible became now the engrossing subject of his thoughts. On the third of May, he wrote to his daughter Joanna : " Tell the grand inqui- sitor and his council from me, to be at their posts, and to lay the axe at the root of the evil before it spreads further. I rely on your zeal for bringing the guilty to trial, and for having them punished, without favour to any one, with all the severity that their crimes demand." In another letter, written three weeks later, he says : " If I had not entire confidence that you would do your duty, and arrest the evil at once, by chastising the guilty in good earnest, I know not how I could help leaving the monastery and taking the remedy into my own hands." He expressed 1558.] AFTER IIIS ABDICATION. 599 a doubt whetlier it would not be well, in so black an affair, to dispense with the ordinary course of justice, and to show no mercy ; " lest the criminal, if pardoned, slioukl have the opportunity of repeating his crime." He recommended, as an example, his own mode of proceeding in the Nether- lands, " where all wdio remained obstinate in their errors were burned alive, and those who were admitted to peni- tence were beheaded." Not content with WTiting, Charles ordered Quixada to proceed to Valladolid, where he was to see the regent and the inquisitor-general, communicate to them more fully the emperor's views on the subject, and discuss the best mode of carrying them into effect. Charles then wrote to his son, informing him of what he had done; and, to give greater force to his injunctions, added a postscript with his own hand, in which he urged Phihp to apply the sharpest and speediest remedy that could be devised for extirpating the seeds of the disease before it had spread over the whole system. His injunctions fell upon willing ears, as appears from the king's memorandum endorsed on his father's letter: "Thank him for the orders he has given, and request him to follow up the atfair ; telling him, at the same time, that we shall pursue the same course here, and acquainting him with what has been done already." The emperor's letters from Yuste afford the strongest evidence of the intolerance of his disposition. The com- promises and concessions wrenched from him by the German protestants were so many sacrifices to policy, that must have done great violence to his nature. In his corre- spondence with his family we find the true sentiments of his heart, rendered, doubtless, more austere under the influence of declining health and the monastic life which separated him from the world. One cannot, without a shudder, see him thus fanning the flame of fanaticism in the bosoms of his children, to whose keeping were entrusted the destinies of the country. 600 LIFE OF CHARLES THE FIFTH. [book hi. Bigotry seems most naturally to belong to feeble and ignorant minds. It ^yas the peculiar characteristic of the Spanish princes of the house of Austria ; and more than one member of that dynasty was feeble, to the verge of fatuity. It is the more strikins; when found to lodij-e with those extraordinary powers which seem to raise their possessor far above the ordinary level of humanity. Unfortunately, in Charles these powers served only to give greater inten- sity to the feeling of bigotry, and to make it more widely mischievous in its operation. Instead of a mere passive sentiment, it was quickened into an active principle of fanaticism. His great talents w^re employed to perfect a system of persecution which led to the most frightful results in the Netherlands. No one of his line did so much to fasten the yoke of superstition on the necks of the Spaniards. He may be truly said to have stamped his character, not only on his own generation, but on that that followed it. His example and his teachings directed the policy of the pitiless Philip the Second, and through him of the imbecile Philip the Third. His dying words — for his codicil, executed on his death-bed, as we shall see, breathed the same spirit as his letters — still lingered in the ears of his posterity, to urge them forward in the path of persecution ; and thus did he become largely responsible for the woes brought on the land long after he had been laid in the dark chambers of the Escorial. THE LIFE OP CHARLES THE FIFTH AFTER HIS ABDICATION. BOOK IV. Charles's 111 Health — He rehearses his Obsequies — Is attacked by his last lUuess — Codicil to his Will — Progress of the Disease— Extreme Unction — Last Hours and Death — Funeral Honours — Philip the Second's Visit to Yuste — Bodies of Charles and his Fanuly removed to the Escorial — Decay of the Convent at Yuste. As the spring of 1558 advanced, tlie emperor's health gradually mended. He was extremely sensible to cold; and as the summer drew near, he felt the genial influence of the warmer weather, and the letters from Yuste spoke of him as restored to his usual health. With renovated health his appetite returned ; and he indulged it in his usual intemperate manner. " His majesty eats much," writes his physician, Dr. Mathys, " and drinks still more, changing nothing of liis former way of life, and rashly trusting to the natural strength of his constitution, but little to be relied on in a body so full of bad humours." " Kings," writes Quixada, " must surely imagine their stomachs are made differently from those of other men." At length the bad humours of which the doctor spoke showed themselves in a cutaneous eruption below the knees, which caused Charles great annoyance. To allay the irritation, he slept 602 LIFE or CHARLES THE FIFTH [book iv. under the lightest covering, and with the windows and doors of his chamber open. Pie frequently also bathed his limbs in cold water. His physician looked with distrust on the use of these violent remedies ; but the emperor said he would rather have a little fever, than suffer from this intolerable itching. On this Mathys sensibly remarked, that it was not given to us to choose our diseases ; — we might chance, by attempting it, to get something worse than what we have already. The doctor's remonstrances, however, were little heeded by Charles, whose imperious nature had ever made liini the most intractable of patients. The season proved to be extremely unhealthy in the Vera, where tertian fever of a malignant type became prevalent, and several persons died of it. The count of Oropesa lay so ill of this disease, in his chateau at Jarandilla, that the emperor sent his own physician to him. On the ninth of August, Charles, after a considerable interval, was attacked by a fit of the gout, which was attributed to a cold taken in consequence of his sleeping with his windows open, — the air, which had been sultry in the evening, having changed and become chilly during the night. The attack does not seem to have been as severe as he had sometimes experienced during his residence at Yuste ; for on the fifteenth of the month we find him present at the service in the chapel, though requiring the support of his attendants, and seated in his chair. All symptoms of the disease had vanished by the twenty-fourth of August, when we find the letters from Yuste speaking of him as entirely recovered. It was in the latter part of the month of August that an event is said to have taken place, which has aftbrded a fruitful theme for speculation to modern critics. This was the emperor's celebration of his own obsequies. According to the two Jcronymite chroniclers from whom the narrative is derived, Charles, who caused masses to be celebrated for the soul of his deceased wife on every anniversary of her 1558.] AFTER HIS ABDICATION. 603 death, expressed a wish at this time to his confessor, Juan de Regla, to have funeral services performed in her honour, and also in that of his parents. The confessor having approved of this pious intention, preparations were instantly made for carrying it into execution ; and the obsequies, occupying three days successively, were celebrated by the whole convent with great solemnity. Charles himself took part in them, taking his place near the altar, and following the service in his prayer-book, — a plain volume which bore the marks of long and diligent use. When the ceremony was finished, Charles inquired of his coufessor whether it would not be well for him also to perform his own obsequies, and thus see with his own eyes what must soon befal him. The priest, startled by this extraordinary proposal, was much affected, and besought the emperor, with tears in his eyes, not thus to anticipate, as it were, the hour of his death. But Charles, uroinor the matter, inquired if it would not be profitable for his soul ; and the accommodating father having applauded it as a pious act, worthy of imitation, arrangements were made for conducting it with greater pomp than that of the preceding services. The chapel was accordingly hung with black, and the blaze of hundreds of wax-lights was scarcely sufficient to dispel the darkness. The brethren in their conventual dress, and all the emperor's household clad in deep mourning, gathered round a huge catafalque, shrouded also in black, which had been raised in the centre of the chapel. The service for the burial of the dead was then performed ; and, amidst the dismal wail of the monks, the prayers ascended for the departed spirit, that it might be received into the mansions of the blessed. The sorrowful attendants were melted to tears, as the image of their master's death was presented to their minds, — or they were touched, it may be, with compassion by this pitiable display of weakness. Charles, muffled in a dark mantle, and bearing a lighted candle in his hand, mingled with his 604 LIFE OF CHARLES THE FIFTH [book IV. household, the spectator of his own obsequies ; and the doleful ceremouy was coucluded b}- his placing the taper in the hands of the priest, in sign of his surrendering up liis soul to the Almighty. Such is the account given us by the Jeronymite fathers ; one of whom was an eyewitness of the scenes he describes,' and the other, though not present himself, had ample means of obtaining information from those who were.^ Since that time the story has been repeated by successive writers, gaining at each repetition, until in Kobertson's pages we find the emperor performing in his shroud, and then lying down in his coffin, where, after joining in the prayers for the rest of his own soul, not yet departed, he is left by the monks to his meditations. It Avas not till the present day that a more carefid scrutiny, by discovering incon- sistencies in the account, led some writers to regard it as a monkish legend, and to doubt the truth of it altogetlier. ' Nothing is known of this person, except what is to be collected fro:ii his own nanalivc. He was one of the convent, and seems to have lived there during the whole of tlie time that Charles resided at Yuste. He was one of tlie few monies selected lo keep watch over the emi)eror's remains after liis dcatii, and to accompany them when they were removed to the Esco- rial. His manuscript, which has very recently been given to tlic pul)lic by the industrious Gachard, found its way, ill some manner not easy to be explained, into the archives of the Feudal Court of Brabant in Brussels. It was there discovered, not long since, by !M. Bakhuizeu van den 15nnk, a member of that court, and an analysis of it, was pnl)lished by him in the Bul- let'uis (Ir 1(1 Comiiihaion Rm/alc tVlIis- forir. The narrative is given at length by Gachard, in the second volume of liis " Retro He ct Mart dc Charles- Quuit." No one who has read this simple record, which bears on every page the evidence of tlic writer's call- ing and of the times in wliich he lived, can doubt its authenticity for a mo- ment. For this reason, notwithstand- ing it comes to us without a name, it becomes an historical document of great value, inferior only to that, of the original letters from the members of the emperor's household. - This was Fray Joseph dc Sigueu9a, prior of the Escorial. As head of tlic great Jeronymite monastery, the best sources of information were open to him. He enjoyed, moreover, the op- portunity of personal communication with some who were living at Yuste during the emperor's residence there, and who, after his death, aceom])anied his remains to the Escorial. The re- sult of his investigations he has given in the first volume of his great work, " llistoria (le In Onlcii dc San (lero- nimo" published at ^Madrid in 1GU5 ; a work whidi, from the conscientious- ness of the writer, and tlie luminous style in which it is written, holds a high place in the ecclsiaslical litera- ture of Spain. 155S.] AFTEE, HIS ABDICATION. 605 On the afternoon of the same clay on which the obsequies had been celebrated, being tlie thirty-first of August, Charles, according to the Jcronymite chroniclers, took his seat on the covered terrace on the western side of his house. Here he would often sit, drinking in the sweet odours of the garden, and enjoying the grateful warmth left by the rays of the declining sun. As lie sat thus musing, with his eyes fixed on the dial which Torriano had erected for him in the grounds below, he suddenly ordered his jew^l-keeper to be called, and directed him to bring a miniature of the Emi)ress Isabella, of whom, as we have seen, he had more than one portrait in his collection. He dwelt a long time on her beautiful features, " as if," says the chronicler, " he was imploring her to prepare a place for him in the celes- tial mansions to which she had gone." Some time longer he spent in contemplating Titian's " Agony in the Garden ;" after which he ordered the picture of the " Last Judgment" to be brought to him, the masterpiece of Titian. It was probably only a sketch, as the great work, which hung on the walls of the chapel, was too large to be removed. Indeed, his testament notices a picture of the " Last Judg- ment " as among the articles in the possession of his jewel- keeper. He gazed so long and with such rapt attention on the picture, as to cause apprehension in his physician, wdio, in the emperor's debilitated state, feared the effects of such excitement on his nerves. There w^as good reason for apprehension ; for Charles at length, rousing from his reverie, turned to the doctor, and complained that he was ill. His pulse show'cd him to be in a high fever. He soon after withdrew to his chamber, "which he was never more to leave. That this account of the Jcronymite brethren is not perfectly correct, is shown by a letter of Dr. ]\Iathys, dated on the first of September, in which he states that, having gone by his master's orders, on the thirtieth of August, to Jarandilla, to attend the count of Oropesa, he found the 606 LIFE OF CHAKLES THE EIETH [book iv. emperor, on his return, suffering from a severe headache, which he attributed to the effect of the sun's rays, that fell with great power on the terrace where he had dined. After a sleepless night, continues the doctor, in which the emperor suffered much from thirst, he rose and dressed himself; but though somewhat better in the morning, in the after- noon he relapsed, the pain in his head returned with increased force, and he exhibited decided symptoms of fever. From this letter of his physician, written on the spot, we see it was impossible that the circumstances men- tioned by the Jeronymite historians could have taken place on the day they assign for them. Charles was certainly in no condition on that day for so exciting a scene as the performance of his own obsequies. A still more formidable objection to the truth of the narrative is furnished by the silence of Charles's household in regard to it. It would seem strange that neither Quix- ada nor Gaztelu, who were so careful to notice every occur- rence of interest in their master's life, should have made any allusion to one so extraordinary as this. This silence is so significant, that, instead of negative, it may be thought to acquire the value of positive proof against the truth of the story. A candid review of the Avliole matter will suggest some considerations which may tend nuich to diminish the weight of these objections. AVith res{)cct to the inaccuracy of the dates, that would not be a marvellous thing at any time, especially with the careless chroniclers of the sixteenth century. The Regent Joanna furnishes a remarkable ex- ample of this inaccuracy in a letter addressed to Philip, giving with much care the circumstances attending their father's illness, in which she falls into the gross blunder of mistaking the date of his death, although the documents from Yustc were before her. It may well be that the date of the funeral services was some days previous to that reported by the monks, when Charles would seem to have 1558.] AFTE[{ HIS ABDICATION. 607 been sufficiently recovered from the gout to have taken part in them. With the excej)tion of a few hues from Gaztelu, relating to public business, we have no letter from the secretary or the major-domo between the eighteenth and the twenty-eighth of August ; at least, I have none in my collection, and have seen none cited by others. The interval that may have elapsed between the performance of the ceremony and the wiiting of these functionaries may help to explain their silence on an event which no longer made any strong impression on their minds. For after all, when due allowance is made for the exaggerated tone natural to the monkish chronicler, this act was one not altogether so diti'erent in its character from those celebra- tions with which Charles used to vary the monotony of his monastic life. Thus he showed a morbid relish for per- forming the obsequies, not merely of his kindred, but of any one whose position seemed to him to furnish an apo- logy for it. Not a member of the toison died, but he was prepared to commemorate the event with solemn funeral rites. These, in short, seemed to be the festivities of Charles's cloister life. These lugubrious ceremonies had a fascination for him that may remind one of the tena- city with which his mother, Joanna, clung to the dead body of her husband, taking it with her wherever she went. It was after celebrating the obsequies of his parents and his wife, which occupied several successive days, that he conceived, as we are told, the idea of rehearsing his own funeral, — a piece of extravagance which becomes the more credible when we reflect on the state of unnatural excitement to which his mind may have been brought by dwelling so long on the dreary apparatus of death. There is one part of the narrative, however, that cannot be so readily explained — the portrait scene on the terrace. There must be some error, in regard to both the time and the manner of the event, as reported by the chronicler. 608 LIFE OE CHAELES THE FIFTH [book iv. This scene upon the terrace could not have been the one which immediately preceded the last illness of the emperor. This appears from a letter of Dr. Mathys, who, far from being present on that occasion, expressly says that he was with the count of Oropesa at Jarandilla. The portrait scene must have occurred at some earlier period, therefore, unless the reader may be disposed to dismiss it altogether, as one of those legends that have their birth in the cloisters, and easily find credit there. There is no pretence that the monk who reports it was himself present. He tells it only as a rumour, and one that, seen through the mist of more than twenty years, — as, from a date in his manuscript, appears to have been the case, — may well have been dis- torted in his recollection. But the obsequies stand upon very different ground, as the writer assumes to have been present and to have taken part in them himself. We cannot reject the story with- out regardino; it as a sheer invention of the chronicler. Such an effort of invention may be thought to be no miracle in a monk, especially where the glory of his con- vent was concerned. But it would be difficult to see how this was to be in any way affected by a matter which was altogether personal to Charles. The character of the writers, moreover, greatly strengthens the improbability of anything like wilful misrepresentation on their part. The manuscript of the monk of Yuste is stamped, as his Belgian editor justly remarks, with the character of sim- plicity and truth ; and Siguen^a, the other Jeronymitc authority, although tinged with the superstition of his age, enjoyed the highest reputation for integrity and good faith. It is a question of difficulties, in whatever light we may choose to regard it ; but a candid consideration of all the circumstances may perhaps lead the reader to explain these difficulties by a mistake of the date, — not very extraordinary considering the length of time that had elapsed since the l';58.] AFTER HIS ABDICATION. 609 I event, — rather than by a \\iirul fabrication on tlie part of the writers/ But to return from a discussion, longer, it may be thought, than the importance of the subject warrants, it appears from liis physician's letter that Charles, after his repast on the terrace on the thirtieth of August, was seized with the illness from which he was destined never to recover. A restless night was succeeded by a day of great sutlering. He was tormented with excessive thirst ; and the pain in his head was so violent at times that he lost his conscious- ness. The disease soon took the aspect of malignant tertian fever; and Mathys determined, notwithstanding the weak state of his patient, that, if the symptoms did not prove more favourable on the following day, he Avould bleed him. Ciiarles himself became alarmed at his condition. Tlie symptoms of the disease were different from anything which he had before experienced. He made his preparations accordingly, expressed his desire to execute a codicil to his will, and without further delay confessed and received the sacrament. In performing this last act, feeble as he was, he knelt a full quarter of an hour in his bed, offering thanks to God for the mercies that had been shown him through life, and expressing the deepest contrition for his sins, with ^ There is one authority, could his work be recovered, wlio might pro- bably settle tliis vexed question. This is Tray ^larlin de Angulo, prior of Yusle, who prepaied, for the informa- tion ot the Regent Joanna, a full ac- count of the latter days of her fatiier, with whom, as the superior of the con- vent, he was in the iiabit of daily com- munication. His manu^cri|)t, which has never found its way to the press, was in the hands of the historian San- doval, who professes to have trans- ferred its contents to his own pages. In these we find a conversation re- ported, which the empemr li.id with one of his household, respecting his mock funeral, which, however, we are to infer never took place, from its being afterwards stated that tiie nioucy which Charles designed to api)ropriate to this object was in the end applied to his real obsequies. Yet the mar- quis of Valparayso, in a work still in manuscript, w'liich he con]])iled some seventy years later, with tiie memoir of Angnio before him as one of his authorities, expiessly asserts the fact of I he mock funeial having taken place. In this conflict of testimony, it is much to be wished that the original manu- script of Father Angulo could be dis- covered. It is said still to e.xist in the National Libniry of Madrid, w here M. Gaehard tells us he once had sight of it. But if so, it has again become ingulfed in the ocean of manuscripts in the library, and thus far eluded every efl'ort that has been made to brius it to lijjht. YOL. II. II 11 610 LIFE OF CHARLES THE EIETII [book iv. au earnestness of manner that touched the hearts of all present. Quixada, by his master's orders, wrote to the secretary Vazquez, requesting him to send a commission to Gaztelu investing him with the powers of a notary, as there was no one who could act in that capacity at Yuste. At the same time, the major-domo desired that relays of posts might be established along the route to Valladolid, for the more rapid and regular transmission of intelligence. Meanwhile, as Charles's fever increased, the physician took from him ten ounces of a thick, black blood, and, on the evening of the same day, relieved him of eight more, by which he felt him- self to be much benefited. Mathys, however, shrank from the responsibility of taking the sole charge of his illustrious patient at this crisis ; but Charles, who seems to have had no great faith in a multitude of counsellors, would not con- sent that any other doctor should be called in, except Dr. Cornelius, Joanna's })hysician, who to large medical expe- rience united an intimate knowledge of his constitution. As Charles required the constant attention of his faithful major-domo, the latter transferred his residence to the con- vent, that he might remain uith his master by night as well as by day. In obedience to the emperor's orders, he had a short time since removed his family from Villagarcia to Cuacos. Dona Magdalcna, his wife, was accompanied by her young charge, Don John of Austria, the emperor's natural son, then a stripling of eleven years of age, whom she had brought up with the tenderness of a mother, though she remained in ignorance of his illustrious origin. On coming to Cuacos, she was invited by Charles to visit him at Yuste, where he gave her a gracious reception ; and as she doubtless brought her foster-child along with her, the sight of the noble boy, his own olfspring, who had already given evidence of the chivalrous sjiirit of later years, may have shed a ray of satisfaction on the withered heart of the emperor. 1558.] AFTER HIS ABDICATION. 611 The arrival of Dr. Cornelius Avas attended by no change in the treatment of the patient, as the elder physician entirely approved of the course pursued by his younger brother. But the disease continued rapidly to gain ground. The fever was so higli that Charles could hardly endure the lightest covering ; and it was occasionally accompanied by violent paroxysms which left him insensible for hours together. On the ninth of the month a commission arrived from Valladolid empowering Gaztelu to act as a notary; and Charles, who was then in the full possession of his faculties, lost no time in executing his codicil. It had been prepared some time previous, and was of great length, like the testament to which it was attached. By his will he had bequeathed thirty thousand ducats for the portions of young maidens and the liberation of captives from the Moorish dungeons. Another provision of his will, which he now confirmed, directed that thirty thousand masses sliould be said for the benefit of his soul iu the monas- teries and parochial churches of Spain and the Netherlands. By his codicil, he assigned gratuities and pensions to each member of his household, from Dr. Mathys down to the meanest scullion. The pensions varied in amount according to the rank of the parties, the highest reaching to four hun- dred florins, and so proceeding by a descending scale to ninety florins annually. Some of the principalJeronymites who had officiated about the emperor's person came in for a share of his bounty. Two thousand ducats were to be paid at once to Quixada, whose services were noticed in the. most affectionate terms, and who was to receive a pension equivalent to his present emoluments until Philip should make some provision for him better suited to his deserts. But the most remarkable feature of the instrument was the intolerant spirit that breathed through every page of it where religion Avas concerned. The monotonous melancholy way of convent life had given a gloomy colour to Charles's sentiments, and had imparted something like austerity to R II .2 612 LIFE OF CHARLES THE FIFTH [book iv. his temper. A whimsical proof of this austerity had been furnished some time before, by an ordinance which he had obtained from the visitors of the convent, and Avhich was proclaimed by sound of trumpet, decreeing a hundred lashes to any woman who should approach within two bow-shots of the gate ! Under the corroding influence of an ascetic life, and the decline of his health at Yuste, the feelings of bigotry which belonged to the emperor's nature had been gradually exalted into a more active and mischievous prin- ciple of fanaticism. This is evident from the system of persecution which he inculcated in his letters, with so much energy, on those who had the direction of aflairs both in Spain and in the Netherlands. He was even heard to express his regret that he had respected the safe conduct of Luther, when the great reformer presented himself before the diet at Worms. Fortunately for Charles's reputation, his good angel had saved him from th." perpetration of a crime which would have branded his name with the infamy that belongs to the murderers of Huss. In the codicil which he now signed, he enjoined upon his son to follow up and bring to justice every heretic in his dominions, and this without exception, and witliout favour or mercy to any one. He conjured Philip to cherish the Holy Inquisition as the best means for accomplishing this good work. " So," he concludes, " shall you have my blessing, and the Lord shall prosper all your undertakings." Such were the last words of the dying monarch to his son. They did not fall on a deaf ear ; and the parting admonition of his father served to give a keener edge to the sword of persecution which Philip had already begun to wield. Charles left directions in his codicil respecting the place of his interment. A few davs before, he had held a lonoj conversation with Quixada on the subject. He had origi- nally intended that his remains should be removed to Ciranada, and there laid in its noble cathedral by the side of the empress, his wife. There, too, were gathered the 1558.] AFTER HIS ABDICATION. 613 ashes of Philip and Joanna, his parents, and those of his great progenitors, Ferdinand and Isabelhi, of glorious memory. But he had now changed his mind, and seemed willing that his present residence should also be his linal resting-place. He proposed to be buried in the chapel of Yuste, and to have the body of the empress brought from Granada, and placed beside his own. But from this he was dissuaded by Quixada, who represented that Yuste was al- together too humble a place and in too defenceless a con- dition to be a fitting mausoleum for the remains of great princes. Charles yielded to these arguments, and con- tented himself with directing that his body should be deposited there for the present, leaving it to Philip to decide on the spot where it was permanently to lie, and requiring only that it should be by the side of his beloved wife. The emperor, having listened to the reading of the codicil, signed it on the same day. By this act he seemed to have settled all his worldly affairs, and to have terminated his connexion with the world. He did not, however, lose his interest in it altogether ; and he received with pleasure the news brought him by Garcilasso de la Vega, that his sister, the queen of Hungary, had at length consented to return to the Netherlands and give the king, her nephew, the benefit of her counsels in the government of that country. Disastrous intelligence reached Yuste at this time of a great battle fought in the neighbourhood of Oran, in which the count of Alcaudcte, the governor of that })lace, and the flower of the Spanish infantry under his command, had been cut to pieces by the ]\Ioors. The tidings would have fallen heavily on the heart of the dying emperor, who, as we have seen, had taken the greatest pains to provide for the safety of the Spanish possessions in Africa. But Quixada's prudent precautions prevented anything from being said to Charles on the subject, and saved him from the anguish which would have added a bitterness to death. The posts now brought daily tidings to Valladolid of 614 LIFE OF CHAELES THE FIFTH [jjook iv. the condition of the emperor, filling his daughter Joanna and the queen of Hungary with the deepest anxiety. They would willingly have gone at once to Yuste, and taken charge of him in his illness, had he allowed it. But when Quixada intimated to Charles his sister's desire, he replied that she would not come, for that she was too well acquainted with his wishes on the subject. The major- domo hinted that his daughter, the regent, was equally anxious to visit him, and waited only her father's per- mission to come and nurse him in his illness. The em- peror, however, who found much difficulty in speaking, from the soreness of his mouth, only shook his head, as if to intimate that it could not be. But although his own family were excluded, his friend the grand-master of Alcantara, on learning the critical condition of his master, came over to Yuste, resolved on establishing his residence there till the fate of the emperor was decided. Charles's constitution was now fast sinking under the ravages of his disorder. As his weakness increased, the physicians endeavoured to sustain him by broths, and other simple and nourishing liquids, allowing him even a small quantity of his favourite beer. But his stomach refused to perform its functions, or to retain the food which it re- ceived. On the eleventh of the month, the tertian changed into what was called a double tertian. The ague-fits became more severe, and of longer duration. Frightful chills were succeeded bv an access of fever, which ran so hi2;h that his reason became aft'ected, and he lost all perception of what was passing around him. After one of these paroxysms, on the seventeenth, he remained for twenty hours in a state of utter insensibility. He was again attacked on the nine- teenth, and, although the fit was less severe, and of much shorter duration, the physicians, fearing ho would not survive another, expressed their opinion that the time had arrived for administering extreme unction. The sound of these words fell like a knell on the ears of 1558.] AFTER HIS ABDICATION. 615 the faithful Quixada, who saw in imagination the portals of the tomb already opening to receive his master. His feel- ings are best expressed in his own letter addressed soon after to the secretary Vazquez. " The doctors say that the disease constantly increases, while every hour, as his pulse shows, the emperor grows more feeble. As for me, I cannot think he is so near his end ; and to-day his mind has not wandered so much as during the last paroxysm. Ever since noon I have prevented them from giving him extreme unction, fearing, though he remains speechless, that it might disturb him. But as the physicians insist that there is no time for further delay, I have told them that I would be ready, and that they should watch the patient's pulse, and not give the signal until they were certain that the time had come for it. I feel as if I had buried him already more than once. You can well understand how this pierces my very heart." " Since the above was written," continues the major-domo, " the physicians have pressed the matter so strongly, that extreme unction has been administered to his majesty, although, as it seems to me, this was somewhat premature. I have done as they advised, for they should know best. You may well comprehend the condition of one like me, who for seven-and-thirty years has served a master whom he is about to lose for ever. May it please God to take him to himself, if he is to go, though I cannot help repeating that in my judgment it will not be to-night. God be with him, and with us all." The ceremony, as Quixada says, in his affecting letter, was performed on the evening of the nineteenth. It was conducted by the confessor Regla, attended by all the brethren of the convent. The emperor preferred to receive the unction in the form adopted by the friars, wdiich, com- prehending a litany, the seven penitential psalms, and sundry other passages of Scripture, was much longer and more exhausting than the rite used for the laity. His strength, however, did not fail him. He joined with great 616 LIFE or CHARLES THE FIFTH [book iv. devotion in the services, which seemed to leave his mind in a state of holy calm, like that of one whose thoughts were now turned to a better life. On the morning of the twentieth, he intimated his wish to be left alone with Quixada. The interview lasted half an hour, durino- which Charles was able to converse in a low but audible tone. One of the topics was the pensions to be given to his domestics ; and he instructed Quixada to press upon Philip the importance of punctuality in their payment. Another subject, still nearer to his heart, had reference to Don John of Austria. He had made no provision for the child, thinking it perhaps more pohtic to leave him dependent on Philip. It was the course which his wise grandfather, Ferdinand the Catholic, had pursued in respect to his younger grandson, Ferdi- nand, wdiom, though his especial favourite, he had left witliOut a legacy, consigned to the care of his elder ])rothcr Charles, the heir to the monarchy. As the event proved, the good -will of his brother was the best legacy that could have been left him. Soon after this conversation, the emperor again con- fessed, and expressed his intention to receive the sacrament. The major-domo, fearing that his strength would not be equal to the ceremony, reminded him that this v^'as unneces- sary as he had so lately received extreme unction. But the emperor answered that " it w\as good provision for the long journey he was about to set out upon," The condition of his throat had been such of late as furnished a new argu- ment to Qiuxada, who reminded his master that they could not administer to him the sacred elements, as he would be miable to swallow them. Charles replied, " I shall be able," in a tone of decision that adjourned all further debate. As it was feared that there nuorht not be time for the consecration of a wafer l)y the pi^rformance of the mass, that which was kept on the high altar of the church was brought by the confessor, Juan de Regla, accompanied, as 1558.] AFTER IIIS ABDICATION. 617 before, by the brethren of the convent, who now, to the number of thirty or more, filled the imperial chamber, Charles received the cucharist with the greatest devotion, saying, " Lord God of truth, our Redeemer, into thy hands I commit my spirit." Quixada then examined his mouth, to see that no particle of the wafer adhered to it. After this, mass was performed. Charles joined in the service with silent but earnest devotion ; and when the monks had reached that solemn invocation, " Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the world, have mercy on us," the dying monarch, feebly raising his hand, beat his breast, with looks of the deepest humility and contrition. The ceremony, instead of fatiguing, seemed rather to reUeve him. A sweet composure settled on his spirits, and con- tinued to the last, uiu-ufiied by any further attacks of pain, while his faculties remained unclouded. During the rest of the morning he listened to passages from Scripture, pointing out those which he preferred, — among others, the Passion of our Lord in St. Luke. Viil- alva accompanied the reading with such exhortations as w^ere suited to the condition of the emperor, who listened attentively, w^itli his eyes closed and his hands folded upon his breast. At noon Carranza, archbishop of Toledo, who had been long expected, arrived at Yuste. He was the same " black friar " — so called from his swarthy visage — who had made his name famous by the part he took in the persecutions in England ; and he was destined to become still more famous by the unmerited persecution which he himself afterwards endured from the Inquisition. He had come from the Low Countries, and brought tidings of Philip, by whom he had been rccentl}' raised to the archie- piscopal see. Unfortunately, he liad incurred the suspicions of the Holy Office on the score of his orthodoxy. His residence in Germany, and his familiarity with the writings of Protestant scholars, had led him, no doubt, to modify some of his early opinions. But though, like Pole, Morone, 618 LIFE OF CHARLES THE FIFTH [book n*. and some other eminent churchmen of the time, he had adopted more Uberal views than were sanctioned by the council of Trent, he was at heart as true a Roman catholic as the most implacable of his enemies. Some around the emperor, among whom Regla, to judge from his subsequent conduct, was the most active, had infused doubts into the monarch's mind of Carranza's orthodoxy. Charles was in no condition now to examine into the affair ; and when the archbishop was introduced into his presence, and, kneeling down by the bedside, kissed the hand of his master, the latter gazed on him for a few moments in silence, and then bade him take some repose. The emperor's life was now fast ebbing away ; and his own sensations told hira that the scene must soon close. He desired Quixada to have in readiness the holy candles brought from the sanctuary of Our Lady of Montserrat ; also an image of the Virgin and a crucifix, which had comforted the empress in her extremity, and which Charles had preserved to solace his last hours. Quixada, wdio saw that his master was sinking, sent for the archbishop of Toledo, who, at the emperor's desire, read aloud some por- tions of Scripture, — among the rest, that sublime Psalm, " Out of the depths, to Thee have I cried." Then ap- proaching the emperor's bedside, he knelt down, and, holding up a crucifix, exclaimed : " Behold Hira who answers for all ! There is no more sin : all is forgiven." These words fell upon other ears than those for which they were intended ; and the confessor, Regla, made them the grounds of a malicious complaint before the Holy Office, as implying an accpiiescence in the Protestant doctrine of justification by faith alone. The words gave much scandal to more than one ecclesiastic in the room, as also to the grand-master of Alcantara, who besought Villalva to pre- pare the emperor for liis end by a more Catholic exposition of tlic Christian doctrines. The harsh and disagreeable utterance of Carranza had caused so much annoyance to 1558.] AFTER HIS ABDICATION. 619 Charles, that Quixada had thought it necessary to caution the primate to speak in a lower tone, lie was now suc- ceeded by Villalva, the favourite preacher of the emperor, wliom he had so often delighted with his soft, insinuating eloquence. The Jeronymite resorted to very dififerent sources of consolation from those employed by the archbishop. " Your majesty," said he, " came into the world on the day of St. Matthew ; you will leave it on that of St. Matthias. St. Matthew and St. j\Iatthias were two apostles, two brothers, bearing nearly the same name, and both disciples of Jesus Christ. With such intercessors you can have nothing to fear. Let your majesty turn your heart with confidence to God, who will this day put you in possession of glorv." " Thus," in the strikinir lano-uaoe of Mignet, " the two doctrines which divided the world in the age of Charles the Fifth were once more brought before him on the bed of death." He was in no condition to observe the peculiarities of these doctrines ; but his fainting spirit leaned with pious faith on the assurance which they both gave him of happiness beyond the grave. A sweet serenity settled on his features, "giving token," says the archbishop of Toledo, in a letter written soon after to the regent, " of peace and inward security that filled all who witnessed it with joy." Besides the archbishop, the prior of Granada, Vihalva, and two or three other ecclesiastics, there were present in the chamber the count of Oropesa, with some of his kindred, the grand-master of Alcantara, and a few of the great lords, who had been in the habit of coming to pay their respects to the emperor, and who were now gathered around his bedside, gazing mournfully on his revered form, while the shadows of death were stealing over it. For some hours there was silence in the apartment, broken only by the low breathings of the dying man. At length, rousing from his lethargy, Charles seemed to feel a consciousness that his 620 LIFE OF CHARLES THE FIFTH [book iv. time had come. It was two hours after midnight, on the morning of the twenty-first of September. Placing his hand on his pulse, he feebly shook his head, as if to intimate that all was over. He then signed to Quixada to light the taper. At the same time the archbishop placed the crucifix of the empress in his hand. Gazing on it for a moment, he brought it to his lips, and then pressed it ferventl}' on his breast. The archbishop, taking the crucifix from his relaxing grasp, held it up before the glazed eyes of the emperor, who, holding the candle in his right hand, and supported by the faithful Quixada, exclaimed, " Now it is time." Then, gazing with unutterable longing on the sacred symbol, to him the memento of earthly as well as heavenly love, he stretched forth his left hand as if to embrace it, called on the name of Jesus, in tones so loud as to be distinctly heard in the next apartment, and falling back on his pillow, with a convulsive sigh, expired. He had always prayed, — fearing perhaps the hereditary taint of insanity, — that he might preserve his reason to the last. His prayer was granted. All present were deeply touched by the solemn and affecting scene. The grand-master of Alcantara, in a letter written that same day to the Princess Joanna, expressed the happiness it gave him to think that he had been recognised by the emperor to the last. Luis Quixada could hardly comprehend that his master was no more, and, throwing himself upon the lifeless remains, gave way to an agony of grief. The body was suff'ered to lie upon the bed during the following day. It was placed under the charge of four members of the convent, who, with the major-domo, were the only persons that entered the chamber of death. Quixada would often return during the day to look at his beloved master. During his absence on one occasion, tl)c Jeronymites, as we arc informed by one of those on watch, felt a natural curiosity to see the emperor, M'ho was shrouded by the curtains drawn closely around the bed. 1558.] AFTER HIS ABDICATION. 621 They were restrained by a feeling of reverence for the dead, and the fear of displeasing Quixada. Curiosity at length prevailed ; and drawing aside the curtains, they gazed with awe on the lifeless form before them. Instead of the jDallid hue of death, the countenance was still tinged with a faint colour resembling that of life. The expression, fixed as marble, was serene, telling that the hard battle of life was at an end. The head was protected by a delicately em- broidered cap ; and a loose robe enveloped the person, on the upper part of which was a covering of black silk. On the breast, near the heart, lay the silver crucifix Avhich the hands of his wife had clasped in the hour of death, and which was destined to comfort the latest moments of his son. Above the head of Charles w^as suspended a picture of the Virgin, one of the relics which he had reserved for this occasion. While thus gazing, the Jeronymites heard the step of Quixada approaching the chamber, and they speedily closed the curtains. The emperor's remains were secured in a leaden coffin, which was cased in another of chestnut. They were then lowered through the window in his apartment to the floor of the church. Here they were placed on a catafalcpie which stood in the centre of the building, shrouded in black, and emblazoned with the imperial arms. The walls were also hung with black, while the blaze of countless tapers shed a melancholy lustre over the scene. A vast concourse of persons of every rank, from the surrounding country, filled the edifice. Among them were to be seen the monks of Cuacos and those of diflerent religious communi- ties in the neighbourhood. The members of the household were all clad in mourning. Amidst this solemn company the manly form of Quixada w-as conspicuous, muffled in a dark mantle, which concealed his features. By his side was his royal charge, Don John of Austria, in sable weeds, like himself. The events of that day were well calculated to make a deep impression on the mind of the gallant boy. 622 LIFE OP CHARLES THE FIFTH [book iv. who, after a brief but brilliant career, claimed, as the best recompence of his services, the privilege of lying beside his father in the stately mausoleum raised by Philip for the line of Austria. For three days the obsequies continued, under the direc- tion of the archbishop of Toledo. The Jeronymites of Yuste, the Cordeliers of Jaraudilla, the Dominicans of St. Catherine, joined in the funeral chant. A discourse was delivered on each day, beginning with one by Charles's favourite preacher, Villalva. At Quixada's desire he had made minutes of what had passed in the sick-chamber, and had artfully woven these particulars into his sermon, which he delivered with a tender and impassioned eloquence that thrilled the hearts of all who heard it. During the services, a chair was placed in the choir to accommodate some person of rank whose infirmities made it difficult for him to stand so long a time. But Quixada, notwithstanding the remonstrance of the grand-master of Alcantara, the friend of the party, indignantly caused the chair to be removed, remarking that no one would have dared to sit in the presence of the emperor when alive, and that no less respect should be shown to him now that he was dead. In this loyal sentiment he was sustained by the general feeling of the audience, every one of whom remained standing throughout the whole of the long-protracted ceremonies. At the close of the third day, the emperor's interment took place, and his remains were consigned to the earth amidst the tears and lamentations of the multitude. The burial did not take place, however, without some difficulty. Charles had requested, by his will, that he might be laid partially under the great altar, and in such a manner that his head and the upper part of his body might be under the spot where the priest stood when cekbrating mass. The request was made in all humility ; but it raised a question among the scrupulous ecclesiastics as to the pro- 1558.] AFTER HIS ABDICATION. 623 priety of permitting any bones save those of a soint to occupy so holy a phice as that beneath the altar. The dis- pute waxed somewhat warmer than was suited to the occa- sion ; till the momentous affair was finally adjusted hy having an excavation made in the wall, within which the head was introduced, so as to allow the feet to touch the verge of the hallowed spot. These mournful rites having been concluded, the arch- bishop of Toledo, and the prior of Granada, together with some other of the high ecclesiastics as well as of the nobles, took their departure. Their places, however, were soon supplied by the concourse from without, until the laige church was filled to overflowing. The funeral services were protracted six days longer, during which Villalva con- tinued his pious exhortations, in those warm and touching tones that lingered long in the memory of his hearers. The reputation which he acquired by his fervid eloquence on this occasion, commended him in a particular manner to the notice of Philip the Second, who afterwards made him his principal preacher, as his father had done before him. On the ninth day the ceremonies were terminated. The monks from the neighbouring convents returned to their homes ; and the church was speedily emptied of the crowd which had assembled there to pay the last tribute of respect to their departed sovereign. Silence again settled upon Yuste ; and the brethren of the convent resumed the quiet and monotonous way of life which they had led before the coming of the emperor. Juan de Regla, Quixada, and Gaztelu had been named as the executors of Charles's will. To the two latter was connnitted the task of making an inventory of his personal effects at Yuste. Their first care was to settle the wages of the domestics, and pay the legacies bequeathed to them by their master. This was soon done ; and in a few days they all took their departure for Valladolid. Some of them. 624 LIFE OF CHARLES THE FIFTH [book iv. were received into the service of the regent ; but much the greater part, including the amiable Van Male, returned to their native country, the Netherlands, bearing letters of recommendation to the king, and made richer by the pensions bequeathed to them by their imperial master. Charles had not forgotten the convent in his benefactions. He left twelve hundred ducats to be distributed among its members, the stoves which had been provided for his esta- blishment, and the rich hangings of cloth and velvet em- ployed to decorate the church at his obsequies. But a gift of far more value was the " Gloria ' of Titian, which was still permitted to hang upon the walls of the monastery. It was, indeed, too precious to be allowed to remain there long. Among the chattels left by Charles, his one-eyed horse, which he had bestrode only once after his arrival at Yuste, was appropriated by Luis Quixada. But on Dr. Cornelius laying claim to one of the emperor's nudes, an order came from Valladolid that every article, however trifling, with the exception of Quixada's pony, was to be reserved for the regent. Among the royal trumpery was an Indian cat, and a parrot possessed of wonderful gifts in the Avay of talking, great pets of Charles, with which he had been accustomed to amuse his leisure hours. They were presents from his sister, Catherine of Portugal, and they were now forwarded in a separate litter, under an escort, to Valladolid. In short, everything in the house seemed to have a particular value in Joanna's eyes, as a memorial of her father. Quixada and Gaztelu, having at length completed their painful task, in December took their final leave of the spot which they had always regarded with feelings of aversion, and which was now associated in their minds with the most saddening recollections. The major-domo removed with his family to his residence at Vilhigarcia, from which he had so recently brought them. There he and Dofia Mag- dalena continued to watch, with parental interest, over the 1558.] AFTER HIS ABDICATION. 625 education of their royal charge. PhiHp, in the mean time, in obedience to his fatlier's wishes, recognised Don Jolm as the son of the emperor, and a glorious career was thus opened to the ambition of the young prince, which at tlie close of his short but eventful life, enabled him to leave an imperishable name in the annals of his country. The death of Charles the Fifth caused a sensation throucrh- out Christendom inferior only to that occasioned by his abdication. By his own subjects, indeed, the present event was felt still more sensibly, as their loss was far greater. In his retirement, as we have seen, Charles still continued to exercise an important influence on public affairs. But now he was gone for ever ; and the light of his wise coun- sels Avould no longer be shed on the difficult path of his young and inexperienced successor. His obsequies were celebrated with great pomp by his daughter, at Valladolid. His friend, Francisco Borja, delivered the discourse on this occasion. For his text he took the appropriate words, " Lo, then would I wander afar off, and remain in the wilderness." He enriched his discourse with anecdotes and traits of the deceased monarch, whom he held up as a pattern of Christian excellence. Among other facts he mentioned that Charles had once informed him, that no day had passed since he was twenty- one years old without his having devoted some portion of it to inward prayer. Funeral services in Charles's honour were also performed in several other places in Spain, as Toledo, Tarragona, Seville ; w ith still greater pomp in Rome ; also in Naples, Lisbon, and Vienna ; but above all, in Brussels, the capital of the Netherlands, Avhere the ceremonies Avere conducted with extraordinary splendour, in the presence of Philip and his court. As soon as the kinoj had received tidiness of the death of his father, he ordered that the bells in all the churches and monasteries throughout the country should be tolled tlirice VOL. II. s s 626 LIFE OF CHARLES THE FIFTH [book iv a clay for four months, and that no festivals or pubHc rejoicings shoukl take place during that time. The twenty- eighth of December was appointed for the celebration of the obsequies in the Flemish capital. A procession was formed, consistino; of the s-reat officers of the crown in their robes of state, of the high ecclesiastics and nobles, and of the knghts of the Golden Fleece, Avearing the superb insignia of their order. In the midst the king was seen, on foot, with his features buried in a deep hood, and his person muffled in a mourning cloak, the train of which was borne by his favourite minister, Ruy Gomez de Silva. It was evening ; and as the long procession moved by torch-light through the streets of the capital, it was escorted by tiles of the Spanish and German guards in their national uniforms, marching to the low sounds of melancholy music, w^ith a step so slow that it requii'ed two hours to reach the place of their destination, the ancient church of St. Gudule. In the centre of the nave stood a pavilion, or chapel as it was called, shrouded in black, and lighted up by three thousand wax tapers. Within might be seen a sarcophagus covered with dark velvet, on which lay the imperial crown with the globe and sceptre. Opposite to the chapel a throne w^as raised for the king, with seats below to accom- modate the dignitaries of the Church and the Flemish and Spanish nobles. The galleries above, festooned with drapery of black velvet and cloth of gold, richly emblazoned witli the imperial arms, were occupied by the ladies of the court. Never had so grand and imposing a spectacle been witnessed within the walls of this time-honoured cathedral. The traveller who at this time visits the venerable pile, where Charles the Fifth was wont to hold the chapters of the Golden Fleece, while he gazes on the characteristic effigy of that monarch, as it is displayed on the superb windows of painted glass, may call to mind the memorable day when the people of Flanders, and the rank and beauty of its capital, were gathered together to celebrate the 1558.] MTER HIS ABDTCxiTION. 627 obsequies of the great emperor; when, amidst clouds of incense and the blaze of m3-riads of lights, the deep tones of the organ, vibrating through the long aisles, mingled with the voices of the priests, as they chanted their sad requiem to the soul of their departed sovereign. In 1570 — twelve years after the death of his father — Philip paid a visit to the monastery of Yuste. As his car- riage wound round the road by the garden wall, he paused to read an inscription cut on the corner stone beneath the imperial arms : — " In this holy house of Jerome of Yuste, Charles the Fifth, emperor, king of the Spains, most Christian, most invincible, passed the close of a life which he had devoted to the defence of the faith and the mainte- nance of justice," Alighting from his carriage, the king passed through the garden, still filled with the sweet odours of the lime and the orange, and a wilderness of flowering shrubs, that his father had loved to tend. On the wall of the covered terrace the king might have read another inscription, recording the day on which his father's last ill- ness was supposed to have begun. " Plis majesty, the emperor Don Charles the Fifth, our lord, was sitting in this place when he was taken ill, on the thu'ty-first of August, at four in the afternoon. He died on the twenty-first of September, at half-past two in the morning, in the year of grace 155S," The former date should have been a day earlier; and the error shows that the record was made by the monks, as it is the same error into wldqfi the Jerony- mite chroniclers have fallen in their account of his illness. Phihp carefully examined every part of the dwelling. From a feeling of reverence lie was unwilling to pass the night in his father's chamber, but occupied a small room next to it, hardly large enough to accommodate his couch. Two days were spent by him at Yuste. He does not seem to have been very lavish of his bounty to the monks, leav- ing them, at his departure, nothing better to remind them of his visit than some relics and a gold cup. He may have thought that they had gained profit enough, as well as 628 LIFE OF CHARLES THE FIFTH [book iv. honour, by the emperor's residence among them. Not long after, he took from them the pictm'e which had become the pride of their convent, — the " Last Judgment " of Titian. It was removed to the palace monastery of the Escorial, where it found a more conspicuous place than in the obscure solitudes of Yuste. The king replaced it by a faithful copy, to be hung over the high altar of the chapel, which several years later was embellished with some rich decorations by the hand of Herrera, the principal architect of the Escorial. Not many years elapsed before the brethren met with a misfortune, which touched them even more nearly than the loss of Titian's picture : this was the removal of the emperor's body from their convent. The circumstance of his having selected Yuste as the retreat in which to pass the evening of his days, was not more a source of pride to the monks of St. Jerome than that of their being allowed to retain possession of his remains. But in the winter of the year one thousand five hundred and seventy-four, the Escorial was so far advanced as to be ready for their reception ; and Philip the Second put in execution the plan he had formed of gathering together the ashes of his kindred, and depo- siting them in the superb mausoleum wdiich he had conse- crated to the house of Austria. Arrangements were accor- dingly made for removing from the different places where they had been interred, the bodies of the empress Isabella and two of her sons, who had died in early age, the remains of Mary of Portugal, the first wife of Philip, and, lastly, those of Queen Eleanor of Erance, from their resting- place at jMerida. The funeral processions met at Yuste, where they were joined by a deputation of the monks of St. Jerome, escort- ing the bodv of the emperor. Loud was the lament of the brotherhood, as they saw the preparations that were making for dej)riving them for ever of their deceased sovereign. They felt that the glory that had rested on their convent was d(!parting for ever. The orator chosen for the occasion 1558.] AETER HIS ABDICATION. 629 gave utterance to his grief in a gush of warm, impassioned eloquence, which showed him to be a worthy discii)lc of the school of Villalva. Apostrophising the shade of Charles, he expatiated on the feelings of love and reverence with which the brethren of Yuste would ever cherish the memory of him who had condescended to take up his abode among them, " The Almighty," said the speaker, " has confined all things — the heavens, the earth, and the sea — within their proper bounds. To love alone he has set no limit." The people in the neighbouring country shared in the grief of the Jeronymitcs, and seemed to feel that a portion of that glory which the presence of the emperor had shed upon Yuste was reflected upon them. As the long proces- sion took its way through Cuacos, whose unruly peasantry, it may be remembered, had been a constant source of annoyance to Charles, the inhabitants expressed their regret by a dramatic representation, in which the per- sonifications of the Village and the Desert were made to condole with each other, in rustic verse, on their be- reavement. In the procession were twenty-six friars of the mendicant orders, with eight of the Jeronymites from Yuste. The number was augmented by some of the principal eccle- siastics and great lords of the court. Five mourning coaches bore the bodies of the deceased ; and the funeral train performed its march so slowly, that it was ten days before it reached its place of destination. A cloud had long been gathering above the hills that surround the Escorial ; and as the wayworn company entered the conse- crated precincts, the storm beat with fury on the grey walls of the monastery. It was amidst this turmoil of the elements, making the vast edifice tremble to its foundation, that the peaceful remains of Charles and his kindred were again committed to the earth. The emperor's obsequies were conducted here with the same solemn pomp that had attended them at Yuste. By a singular coincidence, the funeral discoiu'se was again pro- 630 LIFE OF CHAULES THE FIFTH [book iv. noimced by Villalva, now become tlie favomnte preaclier of Philip the Second. The emperor's remains, agreeabl}^ to his desire, were laid as nearly as possible beneath the altar, somewhat in front of it, by the side of his beloved Isabella. Above, in a shrine of jasper, the statues of the illustrious pair, executed in copper by Leoni, might be seen, in their finely wrought mantles, kneeling side by side, with hands clasped, in an attitude of devotion. Behind were the effigies of Charles's two sisters, the queens of Erance and Hungary, kneeling also, with hands outstretched, and their faces tmiied towards the altar. The bodies of the two royal matrons were deposited in the vault below, near that of their imperial brother ; and the friends who had loved one another in life were not divided by death. Yuste, which had been so long honoured as the residence of royalty, was permitted to assume the title of royal. The palace became, in a particular manner, the care of the government, and in 1638, Philip the Fourth appropriated six thousand ducats for placing it in complete repair. Little was heard of it during the remainder of that century, or the following ; and the sorrowful prediction of the Jeronymite orator, that the day would come when Charles's residence in the convent would pass from the memory of men, seemed almost to be verified. The obscui'ity of Yuste proved its best protection. The time was to come, however, when this would cease to be so. During the Peninsular War, in 1810, a party of French dragoons, foraging in the neighbourhood, found themurdered body of one of their comrades not far from the gates of Yuste. Not doubting that he had been made away with by the monks, the infuriated soldiery broke into the convent, scattered its terrified inmates, and set fire to the buildings in various places. For eight days the vast pile continued to burn, with no attempt to check the conflagration. On the ninth it was left a heap of smouldering ruins, a small remnant of the western cloister alone surviving of the main body of the building. The church, from the strength of its 1558.] ■ AETER IlIS ABDICATION. 631 walls, was happily able to defy the flames, and served, in its turn, to protect the i)alace, which, in the rear, had always leaned against it for support. In 1820, an irruption of the patriots from the neigh- bouring villages completed the work of destruction. They defaced the interior of the buildings that yet remained, despoiling them of every portable article of value, and turning the church itself into a stable. The fine copy of Titian's Last Judgment, which had hung above the high altar ever since the time of Philip the Second, was appropriated by the liberals of Tejucla, and reserved to adorn the walls of their parish-church. Still the monks, though scared from their abodes, con- tinued to linger in the neighbourhood, as loth to resign their early home, endeared to them by many glorious recollections. With the first glimpse of better times, a small number of them returned to their ancient quarters, where they contrived for themselves such accommodations as they could amidst the ruins of the cloisters. Here they were visited by more than one traveller, who bears testimony that the brethren still retained their ancient virtue of hos- pitality, though they had but scanty means for the exercise of it. Their monastic life was destined, however, to be of no long duration. In 1837 came the fatal decree for the suppression of the convents ; and the poor Jeronymites, many of them broken by age and infirmities, ^vere once more turned adrift upon the pitiless world, without even a grave to lie in. Thus tenantless and neglected, Yuste has gone rapidly to decay. The traveller who visits it now, as he works his way with difficulty through the tangled Avilderness of shrubs in what was once the garden, finds little to remind him that the hand of cultivation was ever there. Yet just without the walls he may still see the great walnut-tree of Yuste spreading its broad arms over the spot where once the multitude was gathered to celebrate the birthday of 632 LIl'E OF CHARLES THE EIETH. [book iv. Charles, and where, as it is said, the monarch himself 'would often sit and muse, — it may be on the faded glories of the past, or on the darker future. The stranger may now enter the palace without the need of the royal permit which Charles the Fifth, as we have seen, thought of sufficient importance, to make it the subject of a special injunction to his son Philip on his death-bed. But as he wanders through the dreary and desolate chambers, now turned into a magazine for grain and olives, the visitor will find it no easy matter to repeople them with the images of former days, when Charles gave audience to foreign envoys in these very apartments, and when priests and nobles stood around his bed, hanging with awful reverence on the last accents of their dying master. Without, the touch of decay is upon everything. The church still stands ; but the delicately carved wood- work of the choir, and the beautiful tiles that adorned the walls, have fallen from their places, or been torn away by the hand of violence. All around, the ground is covered with the wreck of former splendours, with fallen columns and shattered arches ; while the black and scathed walls of the older cloister still tower in gloomy grandeur above the scene of desolation. Yet even here kind Nature has been busy, as usual, in covering up the ravages of time and violence, spreading over them her rich embroidery of wild- flowers, and clothing the ghastly skeleton in a robe of beauty.'* Yuste lives only in the memory of the past. Already her name begins to disappear from the map. But she will ever hold her place in history; and travellers from many a distant clime shall long repair to the memorable spot where, withdrawn from the turmoil of the world, lived and died the greatest monarch of the sixteenth century. ■• Tlic most copious, as well as iulc- closing; pages of Stirling's "Cloister resting, account of Yuste in its present Jjifc of Charles the Fifth." Tlic rich dilapidate!! state, is to be found iu and eloquent descri|)tion of both these Ford's "Handbook of Spain," vol. i. writers show that they were inspired pp. 552, 553 (ed. 1845), and in the in full measure by ihc ^en us loci. INDEX. AcHMET.the Turkish Vizier, strangled, ii. 352. Adorni, the faction of, assists Colonna in the reduction of G noa, i. 306. Adrian of Utreclit (afterwards Pope Adrian VI.), appointed preceptor to Charles V. i. IKS; his character and learning, ibid.; his works, 188, 189; allowed to assume the authority of regent of Castile, 1'J3; possesses neither genius nor spirit to oppose Cardinal Ximenes, 200; appointed regent of Castile, 229; chosen pope after Leo's death, 303; his plans as regent of Spain, for suppressing the insurrections, 313; his incapacity as re- gent, 315; Padilla, having seized the seals and archives, leaves him witliout power, 319; two noblemen appointed by Charles as his associates in the regency, 320; the junta demand of Charles that his regency be de- clared void, 321 ; sets out for Italy to take possession of his new dignity as Pope, 341 ; his reception at Rome, ibid. ; assumes the pontiticate, ibid. ; ill feeling of tlie Italians, ibid.; his justice and moderation, 342; his endeavours for peace, ibid.; death of, 349; joy of the Roman people, ibid. ; his endeavours to suppress Lutlier's opinions, and his strong feeling against the Refonnation, 357 ; he de- nounced the corruptions of the Church, 358 ; his cliaracter, 361, 3f)2. Africa, territories of, added to the Castilian dominions, i. 185; defeats sustained by the Spaniards in, 201, 202; piratical stales of, 496. Agriculture, i. 35; condition of those employed in, 547 et seq. note. Alarfon, General Don Ferdinand, i. 377; en- trusted with the custody of Francis, after the battle of Pavia, 378; escorts Francis to his own country, 399 ; appointed special am- bassador to Francis, 412; entrusted with the custody of Pope Clemeiit, 429. All)ert, elector of Metz, and Archbishop of Magdeburg, sale of indulgences granted to, i. 243, 240. Albert, prince of Brandenburg, grand master of tlie Teutonic knights, i. 408 ; receives the investiture of the province of Prussia as an hereditary duchy, ibid. Albert, marquis of Brandenburg-Anspach, defeated and taken prisoner, ii. 187; set at liberty, 220; publishes a manifesto against Charles, 300 ; his military operations and ravages in the ecclesiastical territories, 312; joins Maurice against the emperor with his mercenary troops, 313; continues in arms against the emperor, 324; joins the emperor, and defeats the Duke of Aumale, 330; his turbulent ambition, 337, 338 ; confederacy against him. 338; his army defeated, 340. Alcantara, Spanish order of, 139. Alenfon, duke d', i. 294. Alen9on, duchess of, sister of Francis, i. 395. VOL. II. Alexander VI., Pope, i. 112; his odious vices, 263 ; a disgrace to religion and to human tiature, ii. 487. Alexandria surrenders to Lautrec, i. 437. Alfred the Great, i. 17. Algiers, kingdom of, i. 496; its king murdered, and the government seized by Horuc Bar- barossa, 498; governed by Hayradin, his brother, 499; is taken under the protection of the Sultan, ibid.; account of, ii. 83; Ciiarles's alrortive expedition against, 83-88; the fatal disasters which befell his army and fleet, 86, 87. Alphonso of Naples, i. 119. Alsace invaded by Henry II. of France, ii. 310. Alva, duke of, his suspicions of Prince Maurice, ii. 298; takes the command of the emperor's forces against Metz, 329 ; ap- jiointed commander in the Piedmont, 371 ; his military operations, 372; his operations against the Pope, 414; humbles himself before Paul IV. 430 ; his victorious pro- gress towards Rome, 578, 579; is compelled by Philip's treaty to ask the Pope's pardon, 579, 580. America, ancient tribes of, i. 518, 519 note. Amerstorf, a nobleman of Holland, added to the regency of Castile, i. 200. Aniruth, the third Turkish sultan, i. 164 ; establishes the Janizaries, ibid. Anaba;. lists, insurrection of the, in West- phalia, i. 484; their mad excesses in Mun- ster, 485, 491 ; their leader captured and executed, and their kingdom annihilated, 492 ; still exist in the Low Countries under the name of Mennonites, ibid. Angevin kings, race of, i. 121. Angleria, Peter Martyr, i. 209. Angulo, Fray Martin de, prior of Yuste, ii. 609 note. Aniou. count of, succeeds to the throne of Naples, i. 120. Anjou, House of, its contentions for the crown of Naples, i. 121. Anne of Bretagne, i. 115 note ; queen of Louis XII. 344. Annebaut, Admiral, ii. 96. Antonio de Leyva. See Leyva. Apocryphal books determined by the council of Trent to be of equal authority with the Sacred Canon, ii. 151. Appeal, custom of, i. 42 ; privilege of, 49. Aquaviva, the successor of Loyola as general of the Jesuits, ii. 61. Aquinas, Thos. i. 284. Aragon, House of, its contentions for the crown of Naples, i. 121 ; kingdom of, 128 ; its political struggles, 129; the political consti- tution of, 130, 131; justiza of, 133; 583-588 note; Charles V.'s visit to, 210; opposed by the Cortes of, 210, 211 ; Don John de Lanuza appointed viceroy of, 229 ; revolutionary commotions in, 338; the insurgents subdued by the royalists, ibid. T T 634 INDEX. Arceraboldo, his connexion with the sale of indulgences, i. 248 note. Armies, standing, growth of, i. 81, 82; result of, 83. Arms, possession of, honourable among un- civilized nations, i 58. Army, booty belonged to the, i. 11, 519 note. Artois, Charles V. deprived of, by the parlia- ment of Paris, ii. 27. Arts, effects of the feudal system on, i. IG, 17. Asturias, Charles V. declared Prince of, i. 181. Attila, Roman embassy to, i. 3. 512 note; his extensive conquest^, 514, 515 note. Augsburg, fine imposed upon, by the emperor, ii. 185 ; who abolishes its corporate rights, and establishes a despotism, 250; the ministers of, banished, 279; captured by Maurice, 301. Augsburg, Diet of, i. 466 ; Confession of, ibid. ; issues a decree against the Protestants, 467 ; held by the emperor, ii. 233, 234, 261 ; request made by the. 239, 240 ; Charles's protest against the Council of the, 241 ; adherents to the Confession of. protected by the treaty of Passau, 320 ; diet opened by Ferdinand, 377 ; recess of, nothing more than a scheme of pacification, 386. Auu'ustine friars, pleased with Luther's invec- tives against the Dominicans, i. 247. Aulic Chamber, of Germany, remodelled by Maximilian, i. 155. Aumale, duke of, defeated and taken prisoner, ii. 330. Austria, house of, its vast accessions of ter- ritory, during the reign of Charles V. i. 431 ; progress of, during his reign, ii. 472 et seq. Aviia, the painter and chronicler of Charles V. ii. 575, 576. "Balance of power," the great object of policy in Europe, i. 97. Barbarians, Northern, irruptions of the, i. 3; their settlement in the countries they had conquered, 4, 5 ; their martial spirit, 7 ; the desolation and changes occasioned by them, 8, 9 ; the principles on which they made their settlements in Europe, 10; tlie feudal system originated from, 11 (see Feudal); not only illiterate but regard literature with contempt, 511 note; general notices of, 511, 512 ; their horrible cruelties, 5 12-;- 16. Barharossa, Home, the celebrated corsair, i. 201 ; becomes king of Algiers and Tunis, ibid. ; his birth, and career as a corsair, 497 ; becomes king of Algiers, 498 ; acquires Tremecen, ibid. ; is slain in Treme -en, 499. Barbarossa, Hayradin, succeeds his brother Horuc as king of Algiers, i. 499; comes under the protection of the Sultan, ibid.; appoiiitfd to the command of the Turkish fleet, ibid.; determines to conquer Tunis, 500; his plan successful, 501 ; he is attacked by a large European force under Charles V. 503; and is defeated, 500 ; his depredations on the coast of Najiles, ii. 30; his descent on Italy and siege of Nice, 106. Tlarbary coast, territory of the, added to the crown of Castile, i. 185. Uarbary States, historical notices of the, i. 496 et seq. ; divided into several kingdoms, 496 ; usurpation of Ilornc and Hayradin Uarba- rossa, 497 ; their j)iralical depredations, 497 ct seq. ; expedition of Charles V. against the, 602, 503; llarbarossa deleated, and Tunis restored to the king, 507 ; their piracies sup- pressed, and the Christian slaves set at liberty, 507, 503. Barbesieux, admiral of the Levant, i. 447. Barcelona, Charles A'. 's arrival at, i. 212. Barons, their feudal privileges, i. 31 ; their combative spirit, 38, 39 ; their courts of justice, 49 ; origin of their supreme jurisdic- tion, and attempts to limit it, 50-53; often dispute the Papal authority, 110. Ba.\ ard. Chevalier, the commander at Mezi^res, i. 293; his high character, ibid. ; his death, 355. Beatrix, of Portugal, wife of Charles duke of Savov, ii. 6. Belgrade, captured by the Turks, i. 309. Bellay, William de, the French negotiator, i. 471; envoy of Francis I. ii. 3, 5, 12. Bellay, Martin, ii. 21. Benefices, papal right of conferring, i. 272 ; reserved benefices, ibid. Bible, translated by Luther, i. 356; translated in various countries, 357. Bicoeca, the French defeated at, i. 305. Boccold, John, of Leyden, the Anabaptist pro- phet, i. 4S5 ; rules Munster in place of Mat- thias, 487; is crowned king, 488; marries fourteen wives, 489; is besieged in Munster by the German princes, 490; l\Iunster cap- tured, and the fanatic put to death, 492. Bohemia, Ferdinand's rigorous treatment of his subjects in, ii. 231 ; their liberties over- thrown, 232, 233. Boleyn, Anne, married to Henry VIII., i. 481. Bologna, peace ol, i. 461. Bonnivet, Admiral, the French courtier, i.236; appointed to the command of the French troops in the Milanese, 34S ; his character, ibid.; his ineffective operations, 348, 349; driven out of the Milanese territory, 353, 354; invades Italv, S69 ; his fatal counsels, 374, 375 ; his death, 376. Borja, Francisco, account of, ii. 523; visits the emperor, 524 ; sent on a mission to Portugal by Charles V., 584, 585. Boulogne, besieged by Henry VIII., ii. 120; surrender of, 128. Bourbon, Charles, duke of, high constable of France, i. 291 ; his birth and charai ter, 344 ; the treatment he received from Louise, the queen's mother, 344, 345 ; her amorous passion for him, 345; her revenge on ac- count of his indilierence, ibid.; his treachery, 316, 347; he eludes the king, 347; com- mander at Milan against the French, 353, 354 ; invades France, 300 ; pawns his jewels to raise money, 370; his great efforts at Pavia, 373; hastens to Madrid to protect his interests, 388; arrives at Toledo, 393; warmly received by the emperor, ibid. ; honours and rewards conferred upon him, 394 ; raises money by the liberation of Morone, 419; whom he takes into his confi- dence, ibid. ; invades the Pope's territories, 421 et seq. ; enters into a treaty with Lannoy, 422; which he disregards, 423; his assault and capture of Home, 426, 427 ; is slain during the assault, ibid. ; succeeded in com- mand by Philibert, Prince of Orange, 428. Bouvines, taken by assault, ii. 361. Brandenburg, margraves of, assume the title ol kings of Prussia, i. 409. l!randenburg-Ans))ach, John, marquis of, re- fuses to ado|)t the "interim" prepared by the emperor, ii. 247. Bravo, Don John, commander of the insurgent forces of Segovia, i. 332 ; taken prisoner and executed, ibid. Brion, Admiral, ii. 8. Hrissac, Marechal, the French general, ii. 3"1. Britons, i. 3, 511 note. Brunswick, Henry, duke of, endeavours to re- pain his position by force, ii. 138 ; is defeated and taken prisoner, ibid. INDEX. 635 Bucer, a manager of the conference at the diet of Woniis, ii. 75. Uuda, lic'sieged by the Germans, ii. 80; seized by Solyman. 81. Buren, count of, ii. 187. Burgundy, Cliarles V. insists on the restitution of, i. S'.H ; the dispute settled, SyG. Burgundv, Mary of, her marria^^e, i. 90; per- fidy of Louis XI. towards, 93. Cajetan, Cardinal, the Pope's legate, i. 250; his interview and discussion with Luther, 251-233. Calais, congress of, i. 294 ; the last place re- tained by the English in France, ii. 441 ; invested and captured by tlie Duke of Guise, 441-443; disputes respecting, 464 ; settle- ment of, 465 ; further account of its capture, 591, 592. Calatrava, Spanish order of, i. 139. Canibray, league of, against Venice, i. 101- 1C3; motives of the, 102; wars thence arising, 203, 204; treaty of peace negotiated at, 452, 454 Canipagna Romana, conquered by the duke of Alva, ii. 414. Campeggio, Cardinal, the Pope's Nuncio at Nuremberg, i. 362, 363. Canon law, i. 54 ; historical illustrations of, 563 et seq. note; 570 et seq. Capet, Hugh, the father of the third race of French kings, i. 143. Capiculy, the soldiery of the Porte, i. 609, 610 note. Caraffa, Cardinal, afterwards Pan! IV., ii 388, 389 ; his negotiations with Henry II. of France, 409, 410 ; his speech, 410. Carignan, in Piedmont, siet;e of, ii. 116. Carlos, Don, his meeting with his grandfather the emperor, ii. 512, 513. Carlostadius, an early supporter of the Re- formation, i. 259 ; a fanatical disciple of Luther, 356. Carranza, Archbishop of Toledo, visits the emperor upon his death-bed, ii. 617; his words are reported by Regla to the Holy Ortice, 618. Castaldo, marquis de Piadena, ii. 288 ; invades Transylvania, ibid. ; set as a spy by Ferdi- nand upon Martinuzzi, 290 ; assassinates Martinuzzi, 291, 292; thwarts Prince Mau- rice in Hungary, 324 ; driven from Transyl- vania, 345. Castile, kingdom of, i. 128; its political strug- gles, 130; constitution and government of, 133-135 ; Ferdinand of Aragon, elected regent of, 174; the nobles declare for arch- duke Philip of Austria, 179; Philip and Joanna declared king and queen of, ISO, 181 ; Philip's death, 181 ; contests for the re- gency, 183; Ferdinand becomes regent, 184 ; tranquillity restored, 1S5; territories in Africa annexed to, ibid. ; death of Ferdinand, 187; Cardinal Xinienes appointed regent, 191 ; Adrien of Utrecht autliorized by Charles to assume the regency, 193; Charles V. ac- knowledged as king, 194; vigorous adminis- tration of Ximenes, 196 et seq. ; the nobles dissatisfied with the measures of Cardinal Ximenes, 196, 197; their opposition to him, 198; subdued by the determined attitude of the Cardinal, 199; La Chare and Amerstorf added lo the regency of, 200 ; dissatisfaction at the influence nbtained by the Flemings over Charles V., 208, 209 ; several cities of, enter into a confederacy for the defence of their privileges, 212; violent agitation in, 227, 228; Cardinal Adrian appointed regent of, 229; animosity of the Castiliani!, ibid.; the Castilians repel the French invaders, 292 ; history of the civil war in, 312 et seq. ; pijpt- Adrian's attempts to suppress it, 313; the Castilians repulse his troops, 314,315: pn tensions of the commons of, 316; their confederacy, 317; the emperor'.s concessions, 320; remonstrance of the junta of, 321 ; its political wisdom, 323 ; irritation of the nobles, 324 ; violent propositions of the junta, 325; defeat of the junta, 327; pecu- niary expedients, 328 ; negotiations and intrigues, 329 ; operations of Padilla against the royalists, 330,331 ; his defeat and death, 332; surrender of Toledo, and flight of Donna Maria Pacheco, 336 ; tranquillity re- stored, ibid.; the practice of private war in, 557 note; historical notices of her ancient laws, 588,589 note; tlie cortes refuse sup- plies to Charles V., ii. 46 ; they are dissolved, ibid. ; constable of, asserts his privilege, 47. Castleallo, governor of Trent, ii. 169. Catharine, princess, birth of, i. 182. Catharine of Aragon, Henry VIII. sues for a divorce from, i. 456 ; divorced, 481. Catherine a Boria, married to Luther, i. 407. Cercamp abbey, fixed upon as the place for a peace conference, ii. 453, 463 ; peace ratified at, 468. Cerisoles, battle of, gained by the French, ii 118. Chalons, Philibert de, commander of the army on the death of Bourboii, i. 428 ; killed at tha siege of Florence, 461. Chalons, Claude de, married to Rene, count of Nassau, i. 461. Chalotais, M. de, his account of the Jesuits, ii. (}5 note ; the author's information chiefly derived from, 73 note. Charlemagne, i. 17; the power and splendour of his reign, 143; empire of, 119; extinction of the German branch of, 150. Charx.es v., state of Europe at the time of his accession, i. 107 ; Spain, the hereditary do- main of, 125; his birth and consanguinity, 169; his hereditary dominions, 170; Fer- dinand's jealousy of, 186; his age at Fer- dinand's death, 187; his education, 188; his early development, 189; state of Spain on his accession, 190; acknowledged as king, 194; his minister Ximenes, 195 et seq. ; his wars in Navarre, 201; in Africa, 202; makes peace with France, 203; agrees to the treaty of Noyon between him and Francis I. 204 ; visits Spain, 205; enters Valladolid, 208; gives great dissatisfaction to the Castilians by his favouritism towards the Flemings, 208, 209; goes to Saragossa, the capital of Aragon. 210; the violent opposition of the cortes of Aragon, ibid. ; proceeds to Bar- celona, 211, 212; Francis I. of France enters into a competition for the empire, 214, 215, 231 et seq. ; views and interests of other reigning potentates respecting their claims, 216, 217; Frederick of Germany having de- clined the imperial crown, Charles is chosen emperor, 222. 223; discontent of the Spaniards at his election, 224; and opposition of the clergy, 225; the seditious commotions of Valencia, 225, 226 ; he decides against the nobles, who are expelled by the peojile, 226 ; summons the cortes of Castile to meet at Compostella, 227 ; violent opposition to, 228 ; he leaves Spain, 229; his rivalry with Francis I. for the empire, 231, 232; their delibera- tions, 233; he visits England, 237; his inter- view with Henry VIII. 238; visits the Nether- lands, 239 ; his coronation at Aix-la-Chapelle , 240 ; assembles a diet of the empire at 'Womis to suppress heresy, ibid. («fe Reformation) ; is favoured by Henry VIII. in opposition to T T 2 636 INDEX. Francis, 286, 287; his treaty with Leo X. 288 ; receives Cardinal Wolsey at Bruges, 293 ; concludes a leigue with Henry VIII. to invade France, 29j. 29(i : progress of the war in which he engages, 300 et seq.; liis inter- view with Henry VIII., 307 ; induces him to declare war against France, 308 ; liis arrival in Sp:iin, 311; history of the civil wars in Castile during his absence from Spain, 312- 336; resolves to mvade France, 365; retreat of his forces, 367 ; their embarrassment, 369 ; gains the battle of Pavia, 376 ; and takes Francis prisoner, 377; effects of his victory, 378 ; mutiny in his imperial army, 383 ; his treatment of Francis, 393 et seq. ; signs the treaty of Madrid, 398 ; liberates Francis, 399; marries Isabella, daughter of Emanuel, late king of Portugal, 400; critical position of his affairs in Germany, 401 et seq. ; league formed against him, 411; his alarm, 412; his message to Francis, 413; his imperial army reinforced, 418; state of his finances, 419 ; his troops capture Rome, and take Pope Clement prisoner, 429 ; he pretends to repu- diate the deed, ibid ; confederacy formed against him, 434; sets the pope at libert3', 438; makes pacific overtures to Francis, 440, 441 ; receives a formal challenge from Fran- cis, 442 ; his treaty with the pope, 4.')3 ; he visits Italy, 458 ; his appearance and con- duct, 459; his moderation, 400; restores the authority of the Medici, 461; his return to Germany, 462; appoints the diet of Augs- burg, 465; his ambitious views, 4C9 ; he courts the Protestants, 472 ; and grants them favourable terms, 472, 473; raises a powerful army to oppose Solyman in Hungary, 474; his interview with Pope Clement, 475; his expedition against the Barbarv States, 496, 502; he lands in Africa. 503; takes the Goletta, 504 ; besieges Tunis, 505 ; defeats lUrbarossa. and restores the king of Tunis, 500, 507 ; suppresses the Barbary pirates, and frees the Christian slaves, 507, 50S; universal praise awarded to him, 508, 509. — A new war between him and Francis I. ii. 3 et seq.; his preparations forwar, 12; heenters Rome, 13; challenges Francis in a consistory at Rome, 14, 15; he invades France, 16, 17; enters Provence, 21; is defeated by Mont- morency, 22; his retreat, 23; his operations in Picardy, 24; declared by the parliament of Paris to have forfeited Flanders and Ar- tois, 27; enters into a truce with Francis, 28; his dread of the Turkish arms, 29; con- cludes a peace, 33; his friendly interview with Francis, 33, 34; his financial dilliculties, 45 ; opposed by the cortes of Castile, 46 ; dis- misses the assembly, ihid. ; his mortification at the opposition of the constable and the nobles of Castile, 47, 48; the citizens of Ghent rebel against him, 48 ; his journey to the Netherlands, 53; he gains permission to pass through France, 54 ; his brilliant re- ception there, and interview with Francis, 55 ; his duplicity, 56; his vengeance upon Ghent, 57; refuses to fulfil his engagements to Francis, 58, 59; opposed to the Jesuits, 72; directs his attention to the Protestants of (Jermany, 74; assembles the diet at Worms, ibid. ; and nominates the managers of the conference, 75; the articles proposed by him agreed to, 77; he visits Italy, 82; his expe- dition against Algiers. 83; he lands in Africa, 85 ; the disasters which bcfel his army and fleet, 87; being obliged to renounce his ex- pedition he returns to Kurope, 89 ; his arrival in Spain, 90 ; his various schemes lor raising money, 98, 99 ; his dissatisfaction with Paul III., 1)9; his preparations for war against Francis, iliid. ; negotiates witii Henry VIII. ibid. ; summons a diet at Spires, 111; his concessions to the Protestants, 114: his negotiations with Denmark, 115; he invests St. Disier, 120; aiiproaclies Paris, 123; con- cludes a peace at Cressy, 124, 125; the pope incensed against, 126 ;his schemes respecting Germany, 130; attends the diet of Worms, 133; suspected by the Protestants, 135; his artful endeavours to deceive them, 150, 151 ; his alliances, 154; his treaty with the pope, 158 ; he cloaks his real designs, 159 ; the pope divulges his plan against the Protestants, 160; who make defensive preparations, 161- 165; inequality of his forces, 166; the Pro- testants declare war against him, 169; joined by the pope's troops, 171; he declines a battle, 174; joined by the Flemish troops, 175; state of his army, 176; leagues with Maurice of Saxony, 178; overtures of the confederates rejected, 182, 183 ; their sub- mission to him, 184, 185 ; suspends his ope- rations in Germany, 201 ; alarmed at the com- binations pressing against him by Francis, 205; death of his great rival, 206; compari- son between him atid Francis, 208, 2 9; he marches against the elector of Saxonv, 210, 211 ; he passes the Elbe, 213; gains the' battle of Mulhausen, 215 ; takes the elector of Sax- ony prisoner, 210 ; invests Wirtemberg, 217 ; his ungenerous treatmentof the elector, 218, 219; conditions prescribed by him to the landgrave of Hesse, 223 ; treacherously de- tains him as a prisoner, 226, 227; his exac- tions, 230; he quarrels with the pope, 238; prepares a system to serve as a rule of faith, 242, 243; enforces the "interim," 244, 245; opposition to, 246-249 ; receives his son Philip in the Low Countries, 252, 253; the pope's schemes against him, 256; his scheme of succession, 271; his proposition to Fer- dinand, 272 ; his violence against the Pro- testants, 276 ; his suspicions of Maurice of Saxony, 296. 297 ; deceived by circumslances, 299 ; his astonishment at tlie hostile declara- tions of IMaurice and Henry IV. of France against him, 302 ; his financial difficulties, ibid.; his incapability of resistance, ibid.; his (light, 306; his insolent demands rejected at the conference of Passau, 317; his demands abated, 318; all his regulations annulled and defeated by the treaty of Passau, 320 ; re- leases the elector and the landgrave of Hesse, 325 ; his hostile designs again.st France, 326 ; he invests Metz, 329 ; operations of his forces, 330 ; raises the siege of Metz, 332 ; ruin of his army, 333 ; his financial dilficul- ties, 334; his extensive losses in Italy, 335 ; in Hungary, 345; his marriage projects, 353, 354,357; his resolution to abdicate, 397 ; his motives for resignation, 398, 400; death of his aged mother, 401 ; his abdication, and speech on the occasion, 402, 403; he resigns the crown of Spain, 405; renews the scheme for procuring the succession for his son, 417 ; he eml)arks for Spain, 418; and arrives at St. Justus(Yiiste), the place of his retreat, 420; his conduct contrasted with that of the pope, 421 ; habits of, during his retreat, 454,455; death of, and its causes, 456; his character and genius, 457 459; review of the state of Europe during his reign, 470 et seq. ; life of, after his abdication, 495 et seq. ; forms the design of abdicating the throne years before he accomplishes it, 499, 500; choice of Yuste for a residence, 501 ; orders a mansion to be erected at Yuste, 502; his departure from Brussels for Spain, 502, 503; his household, 503; meets his son Philij), ibid.: lands in Spain, 505 ; his disappointnnnt at his recep- tion, 506, 507; intrusts duixaila with the care of his illegitimate son, Oon John of INDEX. 637 Austria, 508; makes him his major-domo, 509 ; his reception at Uurpos on his way to Yuste, 510; his meetiuj^ with his grandson, Don Carlos, 512; his stay at Vallad lid, 513, 514; his quarters with Rodriso de Ouefias, 515 ; his stay witli Count Oropesa, 518 ; preparations for him at Yuste, 520 ; his interest in Philip's war against Pope Paul IV., 521; his visitors, 522, 523; his inordinate appetite, 526, 527 ; his consequent Rout, 529, 530; his narrow resources, 531 ; reduction of his household, 532; his reception at Yuste, 533, 534 ; the style of his residence, 535, 537 ; his wardrobe, &c., 538 ; his superstition, 540 ; his connoisseurship in paintings, and patronage of Titian, 541; his library, 543, 544; his mode of rewarding his chamberlain. Van Male, 545, 54G ; the character and ex- penses of his household at Yuste, 54G, 547 ; his habits, 548-554 ; his deference to his confessor, 550 ; his attention to mechanism, 551, 552 ; his attention to music, 553 ; and to church ceremonies, &c. 555,558; his "pro- fession" at Yuste, 559; his health, 5G1 ; his amusements, 563, 561 ; the erroneous opi- nions prevalent concerning his interest in public affairs, 566, 567 ; Philip II. sends Kuy Gomez to confer with him, 568 ; he j)romises to assist Philip in financial matters, 568, 569; his rage at the abstraction of the bullion from the public store, 570, 571 ; his rejoicing over the victory at St. Quinlin, 571 ; is over- whelmed with applicants for his influence and aid, 573 ; his attentions to Sepulveda the historian, 574. 575 ; his freedom from vanity illustrated, 575; his anxiety to hear from Philip, 576 ; the public expectation as to his leaving Yuste for active life, 577 ; quiets his conscience as to Navarre, ibid. ; his regret at tlie unequal terms of Philip's treaty with Pope Paul IV., 579, 5S0 ; his annoyances from his neighbours at Cuacos, 582 ; instances of his lenity, 583; lis interference to prevent his daughter Joanna making claim to the regency of Portugal, ibid. ; sends an envoy to make claim for Don Carlos, ibid. ; confesses to having written his autobiography, 585; the memoirs destroyed or lost, 586, 587 ; receives a visit from his sisters, 588; his feelings upon the news of the fall of Calais, 593; death of his si.".ter, the queen of France. 594 ; his affliction, 595 ; receives a second visit from his sister Mary, ibid.; receives the news of the acceptance of his resignation of the empire, 596 ; his movements against the Protestants, 598, 599 ; his renunciation of the honours of sovereignty, 598 ; liis alarm at the spread of the Protestant doctrines, ibid. ; his in- tolerant bigotry, 600 ; his ill health, 6li 1,602; celebrates his own obsequies, 603, 604 ; the Jeronymite account of the commencement of his fatal illness, 605-61)9; makes a codicil to his will, 611 ; pensions his attendants, ibid.; his bitter intolerance towards Luther and the heretics, 612; provides for his burial-place, 613; progress of the disorder, 614 ; extreme unction, 615; his interview with Quixada, 616; receives tlie sacrament, 616, 617; at- tended by Carranza, and by Villalva, 618; his death, 620 ; the appearance of his body afterdeath, 621; the funeral otiseqiiies, 622, 623 ; the regent Joanna claims his personal effects, 624 ; his obsetiuies also celebrated at Valladolid and elsewliere, 625; the itiipres- sion produced by his death, ibid. ; the funeral ceremonies at Brussels, 626 ; his remains re- moved to the Escorial, 628-630. Charles VII. of Fra; ce, his policy, i. 81, 82; progress of royal power under, 84; first ex- ercises a monarchical power, 145, 146. Charles VIII. of France, invades Italy, i. 93 ; his resources, 94, 95 ; his success, 96; takes possession of the throne of Naples, ibid. ; his resources exhausted, 101. Charles, duke of Savoy. 5f? Savoy. Charters, i. 29, 35; historical illustrations of the granting of, 539 et seq. notes; 543, 545, 54 7 et seq. Chastity, clerical composition for the violation of, i. 266. Chateaubriand, Madame de, i. 291. Chatelet, besieged by Philip II. ii. 434. Chatelherault, meeting of Charles and Francis at, ii. 55. Cheregato, the Pope's nuncio at Nuremberg, i. 358, :i59. Chifevres, \Vm. de Croy, lord of, appointed to superintend the education of Charles V., i. 187; his talents, 188; appoints Adrian of Utrecht his preceptor, 188; the kind of in- struction which he imparted to his pupil, 189; his great power and venality, 20'.'; negotiates a treaty of alliance between Francis I. and Charles V. 203 ; his policy, 205; his great influence over Charles V. gives dissatisfaction to the Castilians, 208 ; his influence and venality, 209; elevation of his nephew to the archbisliopric of Toledo, 210; death of, 289. Chivalry, institution of, i. 60 ; its beneficial effects, 61 ; historical illustrations of, 574 note. Christian religion degraded by the northern barbarians into an illiberal superstition, i. 16, 17; embraced by the Goths in Spain, 125, 126. Christian Church, the most extravagant doc- irines held in the early ages of the, i. 483. Christianity, papal doctrines repugnant to the spirit of, i. 279, 280. Christians, their horror of the infidels, ii. 29, 30; earlv contests among, 383; their intole- rance, 383. Church, scandalous schism of the, in the 14th and 15th centuries, i. 263 ; corrupt state of the, 264 ; clerical immorality and oppression, 264, 274 ; the Romish hierarchy, 274. Cities, formed into communities and municipal bodies, i. 26; ancient state of, 27 et seq.; the inhabitants of, first acquire political im- portance, 30 ; establishment of, in Spain, 138, 589, 590 note; violent opposition of the imperial cities of Germany to the " interim " proposed by Charles V. ii. 249, 250; com- pelled to submit, 250, 251; historical illus- trations of the growth of, 539 et seq. note, 543, 545. Clement VII., pope, i. 349 ; his opposition to the Reformation, 362 ; his treaty of neutrality with Francis, 372 ; promotes the Holy League against the emperor, and absolves Francis from his oath, 411 ; made prisoner by the Colonnas, and conditions extorted from him, 417; his severity to the Colonnas, 420; turns his arms against Naples, ibid. ; enters into a treaty with Bourbon, which the latter refuses to fulfil, 423; prepares for defence, 425; his imbecile bigotry, 427 ; besieged in St. Angelo, 428; taken prisoner. 429; assents to igno- minious conditions, ibid. ; general indignation excited by his treatment, 433 ; remains a prisoner, 435, 438 ; his intrigues, 439 ; his ransom, ibid.; obtains his liberty, 440; his intriguing spirit, 445; negotiates a treaty of peace with Charles, 453; his interview with Charles, 475; and with Francis, 480 ; death of, 482; observations on, ii. 3, 7. Clergy, Romish, their opposition to Charles V. i. 225 ; their gross immorality, 264, 265 ; their compositions for crimes. 266 ; their op- pressions, 267 ; their immunities, 268; their encroachments, 269 ; their spiritual censures, 638 INDEX. 270; their rule in Germany, 271; vicious state of the, at the beginning of the sixteenth ceutur}-, 274. Cleves, duke of, ii. 95, 96 ; defeated by Charles, and obliged to submit to ignominious condi- tions, ii. 104; his solicitations to save the life of the elector of Saxony, 219. Clovis, his army, and division of their booty, i. 11, 519 note. Cnipperdoling, the fanatical Anabaptist, i. 455. Cognac, league concluded at, i. 411. Coligny, Admiral, defends St. Quiutin, ii. 428, 433; his heroic character, 431, 432; taken captive, 433. Cologne, Abp. of, excommunicated, ii. 152. Cologne, elector of, resigns, ii. 1S6. Colonna, Prosper, general of the papal forces against Odet de Foix, i. 299, 301 ; becomes master of Genoa, 306 ; assisted by the fac- tion of the Adorni, ibid. ; defends Milan, 348, 349. Colonna, cardinal Pompeo, the head of the Colonna family, i. 41t> ; his turbulent temper, ibid.; opposed to Clement VII. 417; de- graded by Clement. 420. Colonnas, supporters of the Ghibelline faction, i. 416 ; enter Rome, make pope Clement a prisoner, and extort conditions from him, 417; excommunicated bv Clement, 420; and by Paul IV. ii. 412. Comares, marquis de, governor of Oran, i. 498; defeats Barbarossa, 499. Combat, trial by, i. 39 ; consequences of its prohibition, 41; historical illustrations of, 550 et seq. note. Combination, progress of, i. 78; its effect on the French monarchy, 79. Commerce, influence of, among European na- tions, i. 6ii ; low state of, in the Middle Ages, 67 ; causes of its revival, ibid. ; makes pro- gress in the Netherlands and England, 70; its beneficial effects, 70. 71. Commercial intercourse between nations, i. 66 ; historical illustrations of, 570 note, 579 et seq. Compostella, the cortes of Castile summoned to meet Charles V. at, i. 227 ; disturbances caused thereby, 228. Compurgators, i. 42. Conchillos, employed by Ferdinand of Aragon, 1. 176. Confederacy, European, against Charles, i. 435. Confederation of the German body, i. 156 ; simi- lar to the Achaean league, ibid. Confederates of Smalkalde, their military de- monstration, ii. 172; overtures of the, 182; their rejection by Charles, 183; their sub- mission to the emperor, 184, 185; penalties inflicted on the, 185 ; protected by the treaty of Passau, 320. {See Holy League, Smalkalde, and Protestants.) Confession of Augsburg, i. 400. Conrad, count of Franconia, elected emperor of Germany, i. 150. Conradin, prince of Swabia. put to death, i. 120. Constance, conforms to the " interim," and renounces its municipal privileges, ii. 254. Contolori, Felix, his account of the sale of indulgences, i. 248 note. Cornelius, Dr., consulting phy.sician to Charles V. ii. 610, 611. Corporations, i. 29, 33 ; historical illustrations of their origin and growth, 539 et seq. note, 543. 545. Coriiica, conquered by the French, ii. 344. Cosmo, of the Medici family, i. 118. Council. See General Council. Courlnay, Earl of Devonshire, ii. 355. Cranmcr, Abp., obtains a divorce for Henry VIII. i. 480. Crespy, peace between Francis and Charles concluded at, ii. 124, 125. Crimes, clerical composition for, i. 266. Crusades, their early history, i. 19 ; their bene- ficial effects upon society, 22, 23; their in- fluence on property, 24 ; their commercial effect, 25 ; several orders of religious knight- hood founded during the frenzy of the, 408; historical proofs and illustrations of, 533, et seq. note. D. D'Alhret, John, expelled from the throne of Navarre, i. 185 ; takes up arms in defence of his hereditary dominions, i. 290. D'Albret, Henry, prince of Navarre, i. 290 ; taken prisoner at Pavia, 377. D' Alembert, M. d', his character of the Jesuits, ii. 69 note. Dandelot, Col., general of the French infantry, enters St. Quintin, ii. 429. Dauphin of France, son of Francis I., death of, ii. 25. Dauphin, son of Henry II., married to Mary Queen of Scots, ii. 447. De Croy, V,'m. de. {See Chievres.) De Crov, 'Wiliiam. nephew of Chievres, made archbishop of Toledo by Charles V. i. 210; indignatiun of the Spaniards at the appoint- ment, ibid.; death of, 335. Denmark, Charles's negotiation ■with, ii. 115; state of, during the reign of Charles V. 491. D'Esse, general, killed, ii. 343. Diana of Poictiers, mistress of Henry II. ii. 394 ; aids in persuading him to make an alli- ance with Paul IV. ioid. ; induces Henry to break the treaty of Vaucelles, 412. Dinant, capture of, ii. 361. Dominicans, entrusted with the sale of indul- gences, i. 247. Doria, Andrew, the first naval officer of the age. i. 437 ; his high character, 446 ; revolts against the French, 447; brings relief to Naples, 448; captures Genoa, 449; and re- stores it to libeny, 450; his magnanimity, ibid. ; styled the " Father of his country," 451 ; high admiral of the fleet, sent against Tunis, 503 ; his advice to Charles V. rejected, ii. 85; compels Barbarossa to raise the siege of Nice, 100; his return to Genoa after the conspiracy of Fiesco, 200. Doria, Gianetino, designed by his great-uncle, Andrew, to succeed him in the government of Genoa, ii. 190; slain in the insurrection under Fiesco, 197. Du Prat, Chancellor, his venal character, i. 345, 346. Duelling, i. 40, 443 ; historical illustrations of, 550 et seq. note; its prevalence in various nations, 557. Dunkirk, taken by storm, ii.448. D'Urbino, duke, commander of the Italian forces, marches to the relief of Rome, i. 423; but retires, 429. Duren, taken by assault, ii. 104. Ecclesiastical Courts, their origin, i. 54; their constitution, 55: jirofiress of their usurpation, ibid. ; historical illustrations of, 563 ct seq. note ; 570 et se(i. Ecclesiastical rule, its defects, i. 112, 113; op- pressions of, in Germany, i. 267, 271 et seq. Ecclesiastical reservation, one of the articles con- tained in the " recess " of Augsburg, ii. 387. Ecclesiastics, Romish, their improvement in morals since the Reformation, ii. 487. Eccius, of Augsburg, endeavours to refute Luther, i. 247 ; a manager of the conference at the diet of Woriiis, ii. 75. Egmoiit, count of, general of Spanish cavalry, ii. 429 ; defeats Mar6schal de TcrmeB, 448, 449 INDEX. 639 Ehrenberg, castle of, captured by Prince Mau- rice, ii. 305. Elcaiiora, ol" I'ortugal, pays a visit to her bro- ther, the emperor, at \' uste, ii. 588 ; herineet- ing with her daughter, the Infanta, 581), 5yO ; her death, 533. Electorate of Germany, i. 158, ISr). Electors of Germany, assembly of the, 219, 2l'0; elect Charles V. as emperor, 223. Elizabeth, Queen of England, her accession, ii. 4iil; lier Iriendship courted by Henry of France and Philip of Spain, 461, 4(2; her cautious policy, 4().'<,464-, agrees to articles of peace, 4C5; her political views, 4(iG. Emanuel, king of Portugal, i. 177. Empire. See Germany. Enfranchisement, the people acquire liberty by, i. 34. Enghien, duke, slain at St. ftuintin, ii. 430. England, trade and manufactures established in, i. 70; policy of, 380, 381 ; early commerce of, 582 note.— At war with France, ii. 128; declares war against France at the instigation of Philip of Spain, 426 ; makes peace with France, 465, 407, 468; state of, during the reign of Charles V. 478 et seq. ; her national and foreign policy, 479, 480 ; her transactions ■with France and Germany, passim. (See Henry VIII., Francis, and Charles.) Enguien, count, a prince of Bmirbon, ii.106; his gallantry, 116; gains the victory of Ceri- soles, 118. Enriques, Don Fadrique, appointed regent of Castile, i. 320. Erasmus, his strictures on the errors of the Church and the vices of the clergy, i. 278; his connexion with Luther, 279. Ernest of Brunswick, ii. 218. Escorial, the remains of the royal family gathered by Philip, and entombed in the, ii. 628. Espernay, capture of, ii. 123. Espionage, the system of the Jesuits, ii. 64. Essek, battle of, ii. 30. EuRorE, ell'ects of the Roman power on the state of, i. 2; origin of the present political system of, 10; state of, Irom the 7th to the 11th century, 14, 15; etfects of the feudal system on, 15, 16; martial spirit of, 44, 45; social and intellectual progress of, 48; state of, at the period of discovering the code of Justinian, 56, 57 ; influence ot commerce in, 66, 67 ; confederation of, in the league of Cam- bray, 103; and its results, 105; state of, on the accession of Charles V. 107. — Position of, during his reign, ii. 470 et seq. ; review of the House of Austria, 473, 474 ; of France, 475-477; of England, 478-480 ; of the reforma- tion in, and its consequences, 481-483; of the Roman pontitfs, 484, 485 ; of the moral improvement in, 486 ; of Venice, 488 ; of Tnscany, 489 ; of Savoy, 490; of the United Provinces, 491; of Russia, Denmark, and Sweden, 491, 492. European States, their resources, i. 74; their affairs at first entirely distinct, 76. Eutenii, king of Algiers, murdered by Bar- barossa, i. 498 Excommunication, papal. Issued against Luther, i. 257 ; severity of papal excommuni- cations, 270. Expectative graces of the papal Church, i. 273. Faith, the emperor prepares a system to serve as a ri\le of, ii. 243; the "interim," 243, 244 ; contests of, 384. Farnese, Alexander, raised to the papal throne, i. 482. Farnrse, duke of Parma, ii. 193. Farnese, Octavio, ii. 34; commander of the Italian aii.viliaries against the confederates of Germany, 172; tndeavuurs to surprise Parma, 257 ; makes overtnres to the en peror, ibid.; placed in possession of I'arn.a by Julius III. 258; the pope's hostility to, 275 j with the emperor's cooperation the pope sends troops against him, 276, 277 ; forms ail alliance with Henry II. of France, ibid.; re- pels the pajial invaders from Parma, 278. Farnese, Peter Lewis, son of Paul III. ii. 137; vested with the duchies of Parma and Pla- centia, ibid.; his violent animosity against the emperor, 2:i6 ; is assassinated by Gon- zaga, 237. Ferdinand and Isabellaof Spain, i. 89,90; they extend the royal prerogative, 138; their schemes for abridging the ])ower of the no- bility, 139; causes of Ferdinand's accession to regal power, 170; jealous of his son-in- law Pliili)>, 171. Ferdinand of Aragon, appointed regent of Cas- tile on the death of his wife Isabella, i. 174; acknowledged by the cortes, ibid.; his con- tests with archduke Philip, 174etbeq ; his policy, 176, 177; married to the sister of Louis XII. 177; signs a treaty with arch- duke Philip, 178; the nobilitv of Castile declare against him, 179; he resigns the re- gency of Castile, and retires to Aragon, 180; on the death of archduke Philip he becomes a competitor for the regency, 182; made re- gent, 184; his acquisition of territory, 185; his jealousy of his grandson Charles, 186; his death, 1S7. Ferdinand of Castile, second son of Philip and Joanna, and brother of Charles \., birth of, i. 172 ; appointed regent of the kingdoms of Ferdinand of Aragon, 186 ; this arrange- ment reversed, and Charles V. left sole heir, 187; removed from Guadalupe to Madrid, 193; sent to Germ-ny, 210; elected king of Hungary, 430 ; his high qualities, 4(9 ; chosen king of the Romans, and crowned at Aix-la- Chai)elle, 470.— His agreement with John Za- pol Scoe|)Us for the succession to the throne of Hungary, ii. 78; who afterwards marries, and breaks the treaty, 79 ; demands the king- dom of the regents, ibid ; raises an army against them, SO; is defeated, 81 ; proposes to Solyman to hold Hungary subject to tri- bute, 82; Sclyman threatens to drive him from the towns he still held, ibid, , his con- cessions to the Prote^tants, 110; rigorous treatment of his Bohemian subjects, 231 ; overthrows their liberties, 232; elected king of the Romans, 272 ; Charles's proposition to, for securing the succession, 272, 273; his conciliating manners, 274 ; invited by Mar- tinnzzi to lay cliiim to the kingdom of Hun- gary, 288; the queen is compelled to re- noiince it in bis favour, 289; jealous of Mar- tinuzzi he procures his assassinatiim, 291, 292 ; meets Maurice at the congress of Pas- sau, 312 ; his negotiations for jieace, 316-320; opensthedietol Augsburg, 377; alarm canst d by his speech, 37s, 381 ; his policy, 381 ; assembles the electors of Francfort, and lays before them tlu- instrument whereby the im- perial crown had been iransferrui to him, 444; he is elected to the imperial dignity, ihid. ; his election disputed by the pope, 445. Ferdinand I. of Naples, i. 119. Ferrara, duke of, his possessions restored by Adrian VI. i. 341 ; Charles allows him to retain all his dominions, 460. Feudal system of Europe, its origin, i. 11; its etfects uperations in, 201 ; dissatisfaction caused by the emperor's exactions and his brother Ferdinand's encroachments, 230, 231 ; the Gi'rmans treated as a conquered people, 2.30, 231, 233: reduced to submission by Charles, 250, 251 ; state of parties in, 314, 315; in the enjoyment of profound tran- quillity, 376, 377; Ferdinand elected to the imperial dignity, 444; general progress of, during the reign of Charles, 472; the Re- formation in, and its consequences, 481 et seq. Ghent, the birth-place of Charles V. i. 169; insurrection at, ii. 49, 50; the Gantois offer submission to France, 51; their proposals rejected, 52; Charles V. takes forcible pos- session of the city, and exacts the severest Vengeance, 57; loses all her municipal privi- leges and immunities, ibid. Ghibellines, factions of the, i. 122, 153; sup- ported by the Colonnas, 410. Giron, Don Pedro de, general of the Castilian junta, i. 326 ; his character aud misconduct, 327; his resignation, ibid. Golden Hull of Germany, i. 158. Goletta, a fort near Tunis, taken by Charles, i. 504, 505. Gomez, Ruy, sent by Philio II. to his father at Yuste, ii. 567, 568. Gonsalvo de Cordova, styled " The Great Cap- tain," i. 122; his successes, 173. Gonzaga, governor of Milan, ii. 236; aids in the munier of Peter Farnese, 237. Gonzalez MS., account of the discovery of the, ii. 495, 496. Goslar, city defended by the elector of Saxony, ii. 111. Goths, take possession of Spain, i. 125; ex- pelled by the Moors, ibid.; their horrible cruelties, 512-516 note. Goufher, the plenipotentiary of Francis I. i. 203. Government, early improvement of, in Europe, i. 17, 18. Grandees of Spain, their privileges, ii. 47. Granvelle, bishop of Arras, prime minister of Charles, ii. 298. Gravelines, defeat of the French at, ii. 448. Gray, Lady Jane, executed, ii.357. Greek and Roman authors, study of, i. 276. Gregory VII , pope, his political assumption, i. 1.t2 ; his rupture with Henry IV. of Ger- many, ibid.; historical illustrations of, 153, 602 note. Grievances, list of, against the papal see, i. 360. Cropper, canon of Cologne, a manager of the conference at the diet of Worms, ii. 75 ; sup- posed author of a treatise intended to recon- cile the Protestants and Catholics, ibid Guasto, marquis oel, defeated and taken pri- soner by Doria, i. 445; the military com- mander against Tunis. 503 ; appointed governor of Milan, ii. 24 ; defeated and wounded at the battle of Cerisoles, 1 18. Gueldres, the duke of Cleves renounces all pretensions to the duchy of, ii. 104. Guelphs and Ghibellines, the two great factions of, i. 122, 153. Guicciardini, the historian, his account of the sale of indulgences, i. 248 note; governor of Reggio, 298. Guise, Francis Lorrain, duke of, appointed to the command of the army for the defence of Metz, ii. 327; his heroic conduct, 328 332: 642 INDEX. his generosity to the sick and wounded, 333; his bravery at Renti, 362; advises an alliance witn Paul IV. 394; connnander of tne French troops against Philip II. 421,422; enters Rome, 423; his operations in Italy, 424 ; in the Low Countries, 425 ; recalled from Italy, 435 ; operations of tile French army unuer, 440, 447 ; invests Calais, 441 j and captures it, with other places, -443. Guise, Mary of, married to James V. of Scot- land, ii. 37. Guisnes, captured by the dulie of Guise, ii. 443. Gusman, chancellor of the empire, ii. 444, 445. Guzman, Don Fadrique, an envoy from Queen Joanna, ii. 5S3. H. Haguenau. diet held at, ii. 74. Ham, ues:eged by Philip II. li. 434. Hames, captured by the duke of Guise, ii. 443. Hanseatic league, formation of the, i. 69 ; a powerful commercial confederacy, 5S2 note. Haro, Conde de, appointed to command the forces against the junta, i. 326 ; etfects a junction offerees with Velasco, 331 ; defeats Padilla, and takes him prisoner, 332. Hascen-Aga, the governor of Algiers, his pira- cies, ii. 83; expedition [danned by Charles against him, 84-88; he determines to defend himself, 86; his troops fall on the emperor's army when overwhelmed by a great storm, 86, 87; harasses the retreat of the remnant of the invading force, 87, 88. Hayradin. See Barbarossa. Heideck, count, ii. 2S3. Heldo, thevice-chancellorof Charles V. attends the pope's nuncio to Smalkalde. ii. 42. Henry II. king of France, the political advan- tajies trained by him, ii. 277 ; forms an alliance with Octavio Farnese of Parma, ibid. ; he pro- tests against the council of Trent, 278; enters into a treaty with Prince Maurice against Charles V, 293, 294 ; publishes a manifesto against the emperor, in which he styles him- self the "Protector of tlie liberties of Ger- many," 301 ; takes the tield with a numerous army, 303 ; captures Metz, and advances towards Alsace, ibid. ; invades Alsace, and threatens Strasburg, 310; invades the Low Countries. 315; inconsistency of his conduct, 321 ; his precautions against the designs of Charles, 327 ; is alarmed at the English alliance, 360 ; carries on his operations against Charles in the Low Countries, 301 et seq. ; pope Paul IV. proposes an alliance, 393; which is accepted, 395; negotiates a truce with Philip, 407 ; persuatled by the pope's legate to sign a new league witli the pope, 412; his defensive measures after the defeat at St. Quintin, 433 ; recalls the French army in Italy, 435; endeavours, but in vain, to g^in the aid of Scotland, 446 ; marries the dauphin to the queen of Scots, 447; his troops defeated at Gravelines, 448; he takes the tield against Philip, 449 ; enters into negotiations for peace, 450-453; courts the friendship of queen Elizabeth, 461, 462 ; agrees to articles of peace, 465-4(i8; his po- litical views, 466 ; death of, 468. Henry IV. emperor of Germany, his rupture with pope Gregory VII. i. 152; historical illusi rations of the history of, 602. Henry IV. of Castile, tried by his nobles, and ignoniiniously deposed, i. 1,'iO; a weak and vicious prince, 139, 170. Heiirj VII. king of England, detains Philip and Jii.inna of Spain, i. 179. Henry Vlll. of England, puts in his claim for the German empire, i. 218; the great advan- tages he possessed, 233, 234 ; his character and policy, 235; his favourite minister, Car- dinal Wolsey, 235, 236; his reception of Charles V. 238; his interview with Francis I. on the Field of the Cloth of Gold, ibid.; writes an answer to Luther, 284; receives the title of Defender of the Faith, 285; he favours Charles, against Francis I. 286, 287; con- gress of Calais held under his mediation, 294 ; his policy, 296 ; declares war against France, 306 , his interview with Charles, 307; his troops invade the country, 308; his reckless profusion impoverishes the nation, 351 ; his policy after the battle of Pavia, 379- 381 ; concludes a treaty with the regent of France, 386; forms an alliance with Francis, 434: his motives, ibid.; sues for a divorce from Catharine of Aragon, 456, 457 ; obtains a divorce through Archbishop Cranmer, 480; and marries Anne Boleyn, 481 ; the papal see declares against his divorce, ibid.; he abolishes the papal power in England, ibid. ; his capricious persecutions, ibid. — He refuses to aid Francis, ii. 3; his friendship courted by Charles, 38, 39; his policy, 94; his nego- tiations with Charles, 99, 100; his rupture with Scotland and France, 100-102; sends forces to Charles, 105 ; his resentment against France, 115 ; besieges Boulogne, 120; compels its surrender, 128; at war with France, 128 et seq. Henry of Saxony, elected emperor of Germany, i. 150. Henry, duke of Brunswick, expelled from lii* dominions, ii. 111. Henry, duke of Saxony. See Saxony. Henry d'Albret, prince of Kavarre, i. 290. {See D'Albret.) Herman, count de Wied, archbishop of Cologne, ii. 135 ; his ecclesiastical reforms, ibid. Hesden, capture of, ii. 343. Hesse, landgrave of, enters his protest against the decree of the diet of Spires, i. 464 ; the emperor's negotiations with, ii. 222 ; his submission, 225; is treacherously detained as a prisoner, 227; exactions and insults to which he is exposed, 229, 230; C harks re- fuses to liberate him, 244 ; oilers to comply with the "interim" of Charles, in hopes of obtaining his liberty, 248; his liberation attempted, 270; demands of several princes of Germany for his liberation, 295; remon- strances against his unjust treatment, 299; receives his liberty, 325. Ilesse, 'William, eldest son of the landgrave, ii. 294; a confederate witu Maurice against the emperor, 294, 295. Hierarchy, Romish. Set' Clergy. Holy brotherliood, of Spain, i. 141. Holy League formed at Cognac against the em- peror, i. 411 ; its feeble operations, 414, 415 ; formation of the, ii. 42. Horuc. See Barbarossa. Hungary, invaded by Solyman, who defeatsthe Hungarians, and slays their king, i. 430; archduke Ferdinand elected king of, ibid.; again invaded by Solyman, 473, 474; rapid progress of the Turks in, ii. 78; agreement of king John Zapol Sca;pus, with his rival Ferdinand, concerning the succession, ibid.; Jcdin marries, and breaks the treaty, 79; invaded by the Germans, 80 ; the kingdom seized by Solyman, 81 ; iudiirercnceof Charles towards, 82; again inv.uled by Solyman, and numerous places captured, 105; history of the revolution in, 287 ; Ferdinands preten- sions to, 289 ; is elected king, on the resigna- tion of the young sovereign, ibid. ; at war with France, .'ill; jirince Maurice marches against the Turks in, 323; llie emperor's losses in, 346. INDEX. 643 Huns, their irruptions and horrible cruelties, i. 10, 5H note. Huss, John, the reformer of Bohemia, i. 262; ii. 231. I. Immunities of the clergy, i. 2fi8. Imi>erial chamber of Germany, Instituted by Maximilian, i. 155, (507 note; its jurisdiction, G07, G0«; bound by the treaty of Passau to administer equal justice, ii. 320. Indulgences, papal, sale of, granted by the papal see, i. 212; by Leo X., ibid.; chief cause of the reformation, 213 et se(i. ; the extravagant pretensions of Tetzel, 243; the impudent sale of, raises up Lutlier and other active reformers, 214 et seq.; hisloiical no- tices n-spectiiig the sale of, 248 note. Infallibility of the popes asserted, ii. 385. Infantado, duke of, his haughty bearing to- wards the emperor, ii. 47, 48. Infantry, tlie superior importance of, taught by the Swiss, i. 99 ; national infantry established in Germany, France, and Spain, 100. Injuries, redress of, i. 38, 54 ; historical notices of, 563 et seq. note. Innocent, a favourite of Julius III., created a cardinal, ii. 259. Inspruck, residence of the emperor at, ii. 302 ; Maurice's advance to, 304, 3U5; the emperor's flight from, 300 ; captured by Maurice, 307. " Interim," the system of doctrine prepared by the emperor, ii. 243 ; compliance with en- forced, 244, 245; strong opposition to the, 246-253; many cities and towns compelled to submit to it, 2.50, 251. Isabella, of t'astile, i. 170; wife of Ferdinand king of Aragon, and queen of Spain, 171, 172 ; her death, 173 ; her la.st will, 174. Isabella, daughter of Emanuel, king of Portugal, married to Charles V. i. 400. Isabella, of Portugal, married to Charles V., i. 400. Isabella, queen-dowager of Hungary, ordered to invade France, ii. 48. Isabella, queen of Hungary, appointed regent jointly with Martinuzzi, ii. 287; courts the Turks for aid against her co-regent, Marti- nuzzi, 288; is compelled to renounce in favour of Ferdinand, 289 ; retires with her son into S lesia, ibid. ; returns with her son, and is supported by the nobility and the Porte against Ferdinand, 345 ; gains posses- sion of Transylvania, ibid. Italy, cities of, first turn their attention to- wards commerce, i. 27, G8, 69 ; invaded by Cliarles VIII., 93 ; balance of power, the great object of policy in, 97; wars rendered stand- ing armies necessary in, ibid. ; Swiss tirst em- ployed in, 98, 9.y ; wars of, occasion an increase of the public revenue, 100 ; the French driven from, 104; state of, in the Kith century, 108 ; the inferior states of — Genoa, Parma, and Modena, 125; war in, 297 ; administration of Francis in, ibid. ; her eflbrts against Fi-ance, 353; the French expelled from, 355; views of the Italian states respecting Charles and Francis, 365; invaded b.v Francis, 368; battle of Pavia, and the important results (see Francis and Pavia); elfects of victory on the states of, 382; feeble operations of the con- federates in, 414, 415; the imperial army re- inforced in, 418; invaded by Bourbon, 4:^1; invaded by France, and several places cap- tured, 437; the French operations in, 438; evacuated by the French, and the emperor triumphant in. 449 ; visited by Cli,arles, 458 ; league with the Italian states formed by Charles, 477; desolated state of, during the irruptions of the barbarians, 515, 516 note; the various revolutions of property in, 526 note ; historical illustrations of, 537, 538 note ; early commerce of, 580 note. — Visited by the emperor, ii. 82; Barlarossa's descent on, 105, 106 ; the emperor's losses in, 334, 335, 344. J. James V. of Scotland, ii. 37 ; marries Magdalen, daughter of Francis I. 38; his second wife, Mary of Guise, ibid. Janizaries, established by Amrutb, the Turkish sultan, i. 164; their military qualities, 165, 166 ; historical illustrations of the, 610 note. Jerome of Prague, the reformer, ii. 231. Jesuits, establishment of, b> Ignatius Loyola, i. 291; ii. 60; the constitution and policy of the order, 61; their objects, 62; great power of their general, 63; their system of espionage, 61 ; their rapid extension, 65, 66 note; their great wealth, 66; their pernicious effect on civil society, 67, 68 ; advantages re- sulting from them, 69 ; character of. given by D'Alembert, 69 note ; their establishment in Paraguay, 70; their ambition and policy, 71 ; opposed by Charles V. 72; secrecy of their rules, 73; their general maxims, and purity of manners, 73, 74. Joanna, daughter of Ferdinand and Isabella of Spain, and mother of Charles V. i. 169, 171; heiress to the crown, 170; her marriage to Philip, archduke of Austria, 171 ; her mental imbeci.ity, 172; gives birth to Ferdinand, ibid. ; she and her husband proclaimed king and queen of Castile, 18U; her extreii.e grief at the death of her husband, 182; gives birth to Princess Catharine, ibid. ; her total in- capacity, ibid. ; her residence at Tordesillas after the death of her husband, 317; accepts the protfered sovereignty of Castile, 318; relapses into her wonted imbecility, ibid. ; the government of Castile carried on in her name, 319. Joanna, the reputed daughter of Henry IV. of Castile, demanded in marriage by Ferdinand of Aragon, i. 177. Joanna, daughter of Charles V. receives di- rections from Philip as to the reception of her father, ii. 507 ; wishes to makeclaim to the regency of Portugal, 583 ; but is prevented by Charles, 584 ; claims her father (Charles's) personal effects, 623, 624. John II. of Castile, i. 170. John III. king of Portugal, advances money to Charles, ii. 98; contracts a nuirria^c between his daughter Mary and Philipof Spain, ibid.; his death, 583. John, Don, son of Ferdinand of Spain, death of, i. 170. John, Don, of Austria, his education under Quixada, ii. 508 ; his visit to his father Charles V. 610, 611 ; the emperor commends him to the care of Philip II. 616; Philip re- cognises him, 625. John Zapol Scopus, acquires part of Hungary by the aid of Solyman, ii. 78 ; makes an agree- ment with his rival. Ferdinand, ibid.; marries, and breaks liis agreement, 79; appoints Mar- tinuzzi guardian of his son, and regent, ibid.; his death, ibid. Judicial combat, i. 42; its prevalence, 46; ex- pedients for its abolition, 47 ; historical illus- trations of, 558 et seq. note; trial by, esta- blished in every country in Europe, 561 note. Julius II. pope, his influence, i. 102, 103; his policy, 104, 105, 112; his reckless ambition, 263. Julius III. his election to the pontificate, ii. 258; creates Innocent a cardinal, 259; his 644 INDEX. indecorous conduct, ibid. ; calls a new council at Trent, 2C1, 267; becomes hostile to Oc- tavio Farnese, 275 ; \vit:i tlie emperor's co- operation lie sends forces against him, 276, 277 : death of, 379. Jurisdiction, ancient, i. 54; historical illustra- tions of, 563 et seq. note ; 570 et seq. Jurisprudence, historical illustrations of, i. 563 et seq. note ; 570 et seq. Justice, tlie commencement of a regular ad- ministration of, i. 36, 37 ; administration of, in the feudal age, 59. (See Trial by Combat, and Ordeals.) Justinian, Pandects of, state of Europe at the time of their discovery, i. 56, 57; historical illustrations of, 572, 573 note. Justiza, or supreme judge of Aragon, 1. 132; historical illustrations of the, 5S3-588 note. K. Knighthood, religious, several orders founded during the frenzy of the, i. 408 ; the Teutonic order in Germany, 408, 409. L. La Chau, a Flemish gentleman, added to the regency of Castile, i. 200. La Forest, the French agent at the Ottoman Porte, ii. 30. Land, tenure of, under the feudal system. See Feudal System. Lande, M. de la, ii. 120. Landrecy, captured by Francis, ii. 103; he- sieged, 105. Lannoy, Charles de, viceroy of Naples, his services in the imperial armies, i. 343, 353; mortgages the revenues of Naples, 370; re- ceives the sword of Francis, 376 ; and commits him to the castle of Pizziehitone, 377; ap- pointed special ambassador to Francis, 412; enters Rome, 436. Lanuza, don John de, appointed viceroy of Aragon. i. 229; preserves tranquillity in Aragon, 338. Lautrec, Odetde Foix,mareschalde, the French governorof Milan, i. 297; his haughty disposi- tion, 298; invests Reggio, but is repulsed, ibid.; requests troops and money from France, 299; but is disappointed, ibid. ; obliged to evacuate Milan, 302; lepulsed from Milan, 303; at- tempts to reconquer the Milanese, 304; mis- conduct of liis Swiss troops, 30.5 ; retires into France, 306 ; receives Francis on his return to France, 400 ; captures Genoa, and several other places in Italy, 437 ; marches on Naples, 444 ; his death, 448. Lavagnac, count of. See Fiesco. Law. See Pandects of Justinian, and Canon Law. Laynez, the successor of Loyola, as general of the Jesuits, ii. 61. Le Chevalier DHibere, a poem, ii. 544-546. Learning, revival of, i. 62, 63 ; progress of, 65; revival of, in the fifteenth and sixteenth cen- turies, 276, 277; historical illustrations of, 575 note. Legal proceedings, form of, fixed, i. 59. Leo X. bis policy as to the rival aspirants, Charles and Francis, for the German empire, i. 218,219,232; his extravagance, 242; allows the sale of indulgences, ibid.; Luther's sub- missive letter, 250; excommxmicates Luther, 2.'i4 ; his difficulties with tlie reformers, 260, 2iil ; his endeavours to excite discord between the emperor and Francis 1. 286, 287; his treaty with ('harles, 288. 289; declares war against Francis, ,ind attacks the Milanese, 299 ; death of, 302. Leonard, a Franciscan, his plot to deliver Metz to tlie emperor, ii. 372, 373; the plot is dis- covered and frustrated, 374; he is condemned to death, 375 ; but is slain by his own breth- ren, ibid. L'Esparre, Andrew de Foix, general of the French forces in the conquest of Navarre, i. 291; defeated, and taken prisoner, 292. Levesque, Dom, his account of the motives that induced Charles V. to abdicate, ii. 400 note. Lewis II. king of Hungary, defeated and slain by SoljTnan, i. 430 ; the last of tlie royal family of Jagellon, ibid. Leyva, Antonio de, general of Charles V., his skill and bravery, i. 371 ; arrests Morone, the chancellor of Milan, 391 ; generalissimo of the Italian league, 477; takes the count of St. Pol prisoner, 451 ; commander of the im- perialists in the invasion of France, ii. 17; his death, 23. Lintz, conference at, between prince Maurice and Ferdinand, ii. 303; negotiations at, be- tween Prince Maurice and Ferdinand, 310. Literature, effects of the feudal system on, i. 16, 17. Logrogno, gallant defence of, i. 292. Lombards, established in Italy, i. 9; practice of ])rivate war among the, 557 note. Lombardy, the theatre of war, i. 297. Lorrain, cardinal, negotiates an alliance with the pope, ii. 395; his haughty bearing, 451, 452; his submission, 453. Louis XI. of France, naturally a tyrant, i. SI ; his measures for humbling the nobility, S5 ; his policy, 86, 87; his perfidy towards Mary of Burgundy, 93. Louis XII. driven from Italy, i. 104; his su- perstitious fear of making war on the pope, 115 note. Louise of Savoy, mother of Francis I., cha- racter of, i. 299; her dislike to the duke of Bourbon, 344; her amorous passion for him, 345 ; her revenge for his indiiTcrence, ibid. ; her prudent conduct after the battle of Pavia, 379; concludes a treaty with Henry VIII. 3S6; negotiates for peace with Margaret of Austria, 452, 454. Low Countries, hostilities in the, i. 292; the French campaign in, under Francis, ii. 103; military operations in the, 119; Charles's visit to the,' 252; hostilities in the, 343, 425. (See Netherlands, and Ghent.) Loyola, Ignatius, csuses of his devotion to the Church, and establishment of the order of Jesus, i. 291 ; his enthusiasm and fanaticism, ii. 60. (Sec Jesuits.) Luther, Martin, the great reformer, i. 244 ; his birth and parentage, ibid. ; inveighs against the sale of indulgences, 246, 247 ; his oppo- nents, 247, 248; is summoned to Rome, 249; appears before the papal legate, cardinal Ca- jetan, 251 ; appeals to a general council, 254 ; is excommunicated, 257; his various conten- tions and persevering spirit, 259 et seq. ; his connexion with Krasmus, 278, 279; his recep- tion at the diet of Worms, 282 ; his seizure and concealment by the elector of Saxony, 283 ; progress of his opinions, 284 ; the oppo- sition they called forth, 284, 285 (see Refor- mation); liis coiitinemeiit at Wartburg, 356; translates the Bible, ibid. ; his prudent con- duct, 407; marries Catb.'irine iV Horia, ibid.; dissensions between the pope and emperor favourable to his doctrines, 431; their con- tinued sprend, 463, 464 ; his inflexibility at the diet of Worms, ii. 76; death of, 146; his character, 1(7-150; his knowledge of ancient litiTature, 276. Luxembourg, invaded by Robert de la Mark, i. 292 ; by the duke Of Orleans, ii. 95. INDEX. 645 M. Madrid, treaty of, for liberation of Francis, i. 390 ; its liard conditions, .'i!)?, S'JH ; Francis absolved bytlie pope from the treaty of, 411. Magdalen, danghter of Francis, married to James V. of Scotland, ii. 38. Magdeburg, war made upon, ii. 207, 268; siege of, 280 ; surrenders to Prince Maurice, 282. Mahmet, the Turkish general, defeats the Germans, ii. 30. Majesty, the title first adopted by Charles V, i. 224. Majorca, rebellion in, i. 338, 339. Maldonada, Don Francis, commander of the insurgent forces of Salamanca, i. 332; taken ])risoner and executed, ibid. Malta, granted to the knights of St. John, i. 310. Malvenda, the Spanish divine, ii. 145. Manfred, of Naples, i. 120. MansfeUlt, Albert, count, commander of Mag- deburg, ii. 283. Mantua, Paul III. proposes a general council to be held at, i. 495. Manuel, Don John, i. 175, 176, 178; declare* for Maximilian as regent of Castile, 183. Marcellus II. pope, character of, ii. 387; his death, 3S8. Margaret of Austria, negotiates for peace with Louise, the mother of Francis, i. 452, 454; betrothed to Octavio Farnese, ii. 34. Mariemburg, surrender of, ii. 301. Marignano, Medecino, marquis of, appointed to command the Florentine army against Siena, ii. 365; defeats Strozzi, 307; and takes Siena, 309. Mark, Robert de la. See Robert. Martial spirit of Europe, i. 44; its results, 45. Martinuzzi, George, bishop of Waradin, ap- pointed by king John of Hungary guardian of his son, and regent in conjunction with the queen, i. 79 ; refuses to give up the kingdom to Ferdinand, and applies to Soly- man for aid, SO; defends Buda, ibid.; de- ceived by the Sultan, 81 ; appointed tutor of the young king, and regent of Hungary jointly with Queen Isabella, ii. 287 ; he in- vites Ferdinand of Austria to lay claim to the kingdom, 288; compels Isabella to renounce in favour of Ferdinand, 289 ; is appointed governor of Transylvania, 290 ; Ferdinand, jealous of his talents and influence, procures his assassination, 291, 292. Mary, queen of England, her marriage to Philip of Spain, ii. 353-357 ; the marriage treaty, 355 ; universal discontent at the marriage, 356; her efforts to extirpate the Protestant religion, 358 ; her atrocities, ibid. ; induced by Philip to declare war against France, 426 ; her rage at the loss of Calais, 443 ; death of, 400. Mary, queen of Scots, married to the dauphin of Fram-e, ii. 447. Mary of Guise, ii. 38. Mary, queen dowager of Hungary, resigns the regency of the Netherlands, ii. 405 ; pays a visit to her brother, the emperor, at Yuste, 588; makes a second visit to the emperor, 595; takes up her abode at Valladolid, 596 ; her death, ibid. Mary, the infanta of Portugal, her meeting with her mother, at Badajoz, ii. 591 ; her death, 594. Mathys, Dr. the physician of Charles V. ii. 596, 608, 610. Matthias, John, the Anabaptist proi)het, i. 485 ; governs Munster, 480 ; vanquishes the bishop in battle, 487 ; is slain, ibid. ; is succeeded by John Boccold, ibid. Maurice, duke of Saxony, succeeds to the government, ii. 11)7; general notices of, ibid.; his i)olitical and religious views, 108; a friend of the emperor, ibid. ; his conduct in favour of llie eini)eror, 134; bis insidious schemes, 177; his league with the emperor, 178; bis artificis, 179, 180; his in\asion of Saxony, 181 ; overruns Misira, and strips his rival of all that belonged to him, 187; liis difficult position, ibid.; intercedes for the life of the elector of Saxony, 219; takes possession of the electorate of Saxony, 221 ; acts as mediator between the emperor and the landgrave of Hesse, 223 et seq. ; remon- strates with the emperor against the land- grave's im|)risonment, 228; his importunities insultingly repulsed, 228, 229; invested with the electoral dignity of Saximy, 245 ; be- comes the most powerful prince in Ger- many, 202 ; his ambitious schemes against the emperor, 202 et seq. ; his general move- ments, 204 ; he enforces the " interim," 205 ; his proceedings against the council of Trent, 207 ; entrusted with the command of the army, 208 ; Magdeburg surrendered to, 282 ; of which he is elected burgrave, 28.i ; his success at Magdeburg, 284; his expedient for keeping up an army, 285 ; liis duplicity towards Charles, 280 ; his intrigues and preparations for revolt against the emperor, 2!) 2 ; courts the protection of the French king, 293; his treaty with Henry II. 294; lie demands to set at liberty the landgrave of Hesse, 295 ; his continued artifices ex- cite the emperor's suspicions, 296, 297 ; con- trives to deceive the emperor, 298. 299 ; he publishes a manifesto justifying his conduct, and stating his reasons for taking arms, 300; supported by a manifesto of Henry II. 301 ; his rapid movements, ibid. ; takes possession of Augsburg, ibid. ; excites the astonishment of the emperor, 302 ; assisted by the French army, 303, 310 ; captures the castle of Ehrenberg, 305 ; causes the flight of the emperor, 300 ; enters Inspruck, 307 ; negotiates for peace, but again takes the field, 317, 318 ; on the emperor's abating his demands he agrees to sign the treaty of Passau, annulling all the powers and regu- lations of the emperor, 319, 320 ; marches against the Turks in Hungary, 323; enters into a confederacy against Albert of Bran- denburg, 339 ; defeats Albert, 340 ; but is slain in battle, 341 ; succeeded by his brother Augustus, 342. Maximilian, emperor of Germany, i. 154 ; institutes the imperial chamber, 155 ; gives a new form to the Aulic council, ioid. ; claims the regency of Castile, 183 ; regent of the Low Countries, 187; his death, 212. Mecklenburg, George of, brother of the reign- ing duke, ii. 280; his attacks on Magde- burg, 281; taken prisoner, 282; his troops in Thuringia, 297 ; captures the castle of Ehrenberg, 305. Medici, family of the, i. 118 ; their great wealth and influence, ibid. ; their authority restored by Charles, 401 ; opposed by the Florentines, ibid. ; their greatness in the republic of Florence, ii. 489. Medici, Alexander de. ii. 34; assassinated, 35. Medici, Lorenzo de, assassinates his cousin, ii. 35 ; aims at the dukedom, 30. Medici, Cosmo de, raised to supreme power at Florence, ii. 36,37; advances money to Charles V. and obtains the citadels of Flo- rence and Leghorn, 99 ; his schemes against the French, 363 ; proposes to the Emperor to drive the French out of Siena, ibid. ; his pre- parations, 304; appoints Medicino general, 305 ; who defeats the French under Strozzi, 646 INDEX. 367 ; and takes Siena, S69; his intrigues for obtalninj; Siena, 437 ; obtains possession, 439. lledici, Julio, cardinal de, a candidate for the popedom, i. 303 ; raised to the papal chair, under the name of Clement VII. 349. Medicine. See Marignano. Medina del Campo, destruction of, by Fonseca, i. 314. Melancthon, an early supporter of the Re- formation, i. 259 ; a proficient in the polite arts, 276; draws up the "Confession of Augsburg," 466; invited to Paris by Francis I. ii. 4 ; not permitted to risk his life there, 6 ; a manager of the conference at the diet of Worms, 75. Memmingen, fine imposed upon, ii. 185. Mendoza, Don Diego de, conde de Melito, ap- pointed viceroy of Valencia, i. 229 ; com- mander of Siena, ii. 334; loses the city by his ill conduct, 335. Mennonites, a sect of the Anabaptists, i. 492. Merveille, a Milanese, sent by Francis I. to Milan, ii. 2 ; is slain, 3. Metafuz, the rendezvous of Charles's army when escaping from Algiers, ii. 88, 89. Metz, captured by the French, ii. 303 ; be- sieged by Charles, 329 ; gallantly defended by the duke of Guise, 330, 331 ; Charles raises the siege of, 332 ; conspiracy for betraying, S73 ; its discover)', and punishment of the traitors, 374, 375. Mezieres, siege of, i. 293, 294. Middle A^es, ignorance of the, i. 63. Migliau, death of, i. 115 note. Mignet, M. author of a work upon Charles V. ii. 497, 498. Milan, duchy of, disputes respecting the right of succession to, i. 123 ; a republican form of government established in, il)id. (see Sforza, and Visconti); government of, committed to Odet de Foix, 297 ; the Milanese disgusted with the French government, 298 ; hostilities against, 291); conquest of, 301, 302; admiral Bonnivet's fruitless attack on, 348, 349 ; imperial artny at, 353 ; inve>titure of the duchy of, conferred on Sforza, 387; Morone's proposals to Pescara respecting the seizure of, 389; duchy of, offered to Bourbon, 394; closely invested, 415; claimed by Francis I. ii. 11; disputed by the emperor, 17; the French ambassador's demand respecting the investiture of, 56 ; the demand rejected, 59. Milanese, conquered by the imperialists, i. 302 ; war renewed in ihe, 304; their resistance to the French, 353; compel them to abandon the territory, 354. Military innovations in Italy, i. 98. Military orders,!. 139; historical illustrations of, 590, 591 note. Military subsidies,!. 101. Monarchs of Europe, limitation of their power, i. 74. 75; their limited revenues, 74; en- couraged in France to e-xtcnd their pre- rogative, 83; their limited authority in Spain, 136, 137 ; and measures for extending tlieir prerogative, 138, 139; historical illustrations of the early state of, in France, 592 et scq. note ; 597 et seq. Monastic education tends to contract and fetter the mind, li. 69. Monastic orders, primary object of the, ii. 62. Moncada, Don Hugo de, imperial ambassador at Home, i. 416; imposes conditions on the pope, 417. Monluc, his energetic speech in the council of Francis, ii. 117; commander of the French garrison at Siena, 367, 368. Monte, Cardinal di, elected to the papal throne as Jiiliii-s III. ii. 258. Montccuculi, count de, accused of poisoning the dauphin of France, ii. 25. Montfort, of Savoy, the defender of Nice, ii. 106. Montmorency, Mareschal, constable of France, entrusted with l he military plans of Francis 1. ii. 20; his skill and bravery, ibid.: defeats Charles V. 22 ; honoured with the constable's sword, 28; advices Francis not to tomply with theproflfered submission of the Gantois, 52; disgraced, 95; his opposition to an alliance with Paul IV. 393; is defeated at St. Ciuintin, and taken prisoner, 422, 430; his intrigues, 451, 452; his elevation, 453. Montpt-zat, governor of Fossano, ii. 19. Montreuil, siege of, ii. 128. Moors, take possession of Spain, i. 125; expel tlie Goths, ibid.; their divisions, and expul- sion from Spain, 126. Morals, improvement of, during the reign of Chailes V. ii. 486, 487. Morocco, kingdom of, i. 496. Morone, Jerome, vice-chancellor of Milan, i. 297; his intriguing policy, 298; defends Milan. 349; his restless and intriguing genius, 387, 388; his negotiations with Pescara, 388, 389; is betrayed by Pescara, 391; his life and libert)- granted by Bourbon, 419; in- sinuates himself into the confidence of Bourbon, ibid. Morone, Cardinal, the pope's nuncio at the diet of Augsburg, ii. 378. Muley-Hascen, king of Tunis, i. 500; over- thrown by Barbarossa, 501 ; makes a treaty with Charles to restore him to the tin one, 502; success of the expedition, 506, 5u7 ; his treaty with Charles, for the suppression of piracv and the liberation of Christian slaves, 507, 508. Mulhausen, battle of, ii. 215. Muocer, Thomas, a disciple of Luther, i. 404; his fanatical tenets, 405; stirs up a revolt, ibid. ; his defeat and capture, 406 ; his exe- cution, 407. Municipal institutions, establishment of, i. 26, 29; (irowth of, 28 et se(i. ; historical illus- trations of the growth of, 539 et seq. note; 543, 545, 546. Munster, seized and governed by the Ana- baptists under Matthias, i. 485 ; afterwards by John of Leyden, 487 ; retaken by an army utidertbe bishop, 492. Murder, clerical composition for, i. 266. Mustapha, the favourite son of Solyman, ii. 346; ruined and slain by the machinations of Roxalana, the mistress of Solyman, 349-351; lamentations for his death, 351. N. Ntiples, seized by Charles VIII. of France, i. 96; constitution of the kingdom of, 119; the most turbulent in F.urope. ibid.; con- tests respecting the succession to the crown of, 120, 121; pretensions of the French and Spanisli monarchs to the, 121 ; relieved by Andrew Doria, '1-18; siege of, raised, 449; descent of the Turks upon, ii. 336. Nassau, count of, comnitinder of the Spanish forces against Robert de la Mark. i. 293. Navarre, John d'Albret expelled from the throne of, i. 185 (.^rv IVAlliret) ; successful war in, carried on by Xiinenes, 201 ; hostilities in, 290 ; conquered by its former monarch, John d'Albret, 291 ; repossessed by the Spaniards, 292; the unquiet conscience of Charles con- cerning the possession of, ii. 577; negotiations with Vcniloine concerning, 578. Netherlands, trade and manufactures c.«fn- blishvd in, i. 70; visited by Charles V. 2.19; dissatisfaction in the. ii. 49, 53; Charles's journey to tb", 53, 56; hostilities in the, INDEX. 647 343 ; Charles's successes in the, ibid. [Stt Low Countries.) Nice, truce at, ii.44; hesieged by Barbarossa and the Frencli, lOH. Nobility, supreme jurisdiction of the, i. 50-.52; attempts to limit it, 53 ; of Spain, their power abridged, 139; of France, their number and imjjortance, N7. Noyon, treaty of, between Francis I. and Charles V. i. 204. Nuremberg, diet of, i. 358; list of grievances at, 360; injunction of the, 361. Odet de Foix. See Lautrec. Oran, defeat of the Spanish troops near, ii. 613. Orange, princes of, their origin and descent, i. 461. See Chalons, Philibrrt de. Ordeals, i. 42, 43; historical illustrations of, 559 et seq. note. Orleans, duke of, takes the field under Francis, ii. 95, 9C; his death, 130. Olho the Great, emperor of Germany, i. 150; his victorious career, and extensive power, ibid. Othos, of Germany, the imperial family of, i. 150. Ottoman Porte, history of the, i. IGl et seq. {See Tuikish empire.) P. Pacheco, Donna Maria, wife of Padilla, her ex- pedient to provide money for her husband's army, i. 32S; her defence of Toledo, 334 ; her defeat and flight, 336. Padilla, Don John, leader of the rebellion in Castile, i. 312; aids Segovia, 314; takes pos- session of Queen Joanna, 318; endeavours unsuccessfully to induce her to resume her authority, ibid. ; seizes the seals and archives, 319; superseded as general by Don Pedro I'e Giron, 326: re-ippointed, 328; his wife stri])S the cathedral of Toledo to obtain money lor the insiirgetit army, ibid. ; he captures Torre- lobaton, 331 ; defeated and taken prisoner at Villalar, and executed, 332 ; Ins let'er to his ■wife before his execution, 333 note; his letter to the city of Toledo, iliid. Palatinate, progress of the Reformation in the, ii. 139. Pallavicini, the Jesuit, author of a history of the council of Trent, ii. 309. Pandects, of Justinian, discovery of the, i. 57; historical illusttations of, 572 note. Papal church, its assumed right of conferring benefices, i. 272; its venality, 273 ; list of the various abuses and grievances of the, 360. {See Church.) Pai>al power, the highest in F.urope, i. 108, 109 ; its secular dominion extremely limited, 109; often disputed by the Roman barons and people, 110, 111 ; genius of the, 112; its defects, 113, 114. (Ste Popes.) Paraguay, establishment of the Jesuits in, ii. 70. Paris, university of, condemns the opinions of Luther, i. 284; threatened by Charles V. ii. 123. Paris, parliament of, i. 148 ; historical illus- trations of the, 600 et seq. note; deprives Charles V. of Flanders and Artois, ii. 27. Parliaments of France, i. 147 ; historical illus- trations of, 600 et seq. note. {See Paris.) Parma, duchy of. retained by Octavio Farnese, ii. 275; siege of, 277; the besiegers repelled, 278. Passau, peace conferences held at, between I'erdinand and Prince Maurice and other (ierman princes, ii. 312, 313; treaty of, 320 ; redeeiions on the treaty of, 321, 322. Patrician, the magisterial oflice in Rome, i. 110. Paul, Father, of Venice, a philosopher and scholar, ii. 69, 70 note; 309. Paul III. ])ope, i. 482; his opposition to the Reformation, i. 494, 495; proposes to assem- ble a general cotincil at Mantua, 495; nego- tiates a peace between Francis 1. and Charles V. ii. 32 ; his natural daughter, Margaret of Austria, betrothed to Octavio Farnese, 34 ; his endeavours to form a general council on religion, 40, 41; his ofTers to Charles rejected, 99 ; projjoscs a council at Trent, 109 ; incensed against Charles, 126; gives his son the duchiesof Parmaan Placeniia, 137; his treaty vvitli the emperor, 158; be divulges tlie medi- tated i)lan of the emperor against the Pro- testants, 160; hisarniytakesthe field against the confederated Protestants, 169, 171 ; recalls his troops, 188; looks upon the emperor as an enemy, 234 ; his intiigues, 235; his indig- nation at the murder of his son, 237; his quarrel with Charles, 238; dissolves the general council, 252; his schemes against the emperor, 256; his death, 257; causes which led to his death, ibid. note. Paul IV. pope, his rise and character, ii. 388- 390 ; ambitious schemes of his nephews. 391 ; prevailed upon to ask the protection of France, 392 ; proposes to Henry of France an alliance, 393 ; his rage at the toleration allowed in Ger- many, 395 ; threatens the emperor, 396 ; signs the treaty with Henry, 397; his astonishment at the truce between Henry and Philip, 407, 408; his dread of Philip's vengeance, 408; his ambassador, CarafTa, endeavours secretly to detach Henry from the agreement, 409 ; in wliich he succeeds, 412; his hostile de- monstrations towards Philip, 413; Philip makes war on, 414; a truce, 415; renewed hostilities, 422; his reckless conduct, 423; receives aid from the French, ibid. ; his in- sufiicient preparations, 424; makes peace with Philip, 436; his arrogant conduct, ibid.: his haughty claims as to the confirmation of the emperor of Germany, 414, 445; agrees to the general pacification between England, France, Spain, &c. 468; death of, 469 ; dis- grace and punishment of his miscreant nephews, ibid. ; the victorious progress of the duke of Alva induced him to make a treaty with Philip, 579. Paul Jovius, the historian, ii. 17. Paul Veronese, author of a history of the council of Trent, ii. 309. Paulius. envoy of Francis I. ii. 102, 106. Pavia, besieged by Francis, 1. 370; its gallant defence, 371; battle of, between Francis and Charles, 375 ; the French defeated, and Francis taken prisoner, 376, 377; elTects of the victory, 378 {see Francis I.); taken by assault. 437. Pays de Vaud, conquered by Rerne, ii. 10. Peasantry, emancipation of the, from feudal servitude, i. 34 ; of Su.^bia and of Saxony, their rebellion and defeat, 402, 403, 400. Pembroke, earl of, commander of the British troops against the French, ii. 426, 428. Pennalosa, Commendador, i. 378. Perpignan, capital of Rousillon, besieged, ii. 97. Pescara, Marquis de, takes Milan from tie FrcTich, i 302; commander at Milan against the French, S 53. 3c 4; invades France, and lays siege to Marseilles, 366; his gallant address to his troops, 370 ; his great efforts of Pavia, 373 ; his negotiations with Morone, chan- 648 INDEX. cellor of Milan, 388. 389; he betrays Morone, 390 ; seizes on the MUaiiese towns, 391 ; death of, 394. Peter, king of Aragon, i. 120. Pflug. a manager of the conference at the diet of Worms, ii. 75. Philip, archduke of Austria, and father of Charles V. i. 171 ; married to Joannaof Spain, ibid. ; endeavours to obtain the government of Castile, 175 ; requires Ferdinand to resign the regency, 176; his treaty with Ferdinand, 178, 179 ; the nobles of Castile declare in his favour, 179; he, and his wife Joanna, ac- knowledged as king and queen by tliecortts, 181; his death, ibid. ; note respecting his last will as to the education of Charles V. 188. Philip Maria, the last prince of the ducal famUy of Visconti, i. 123. Philip II. of Spain, son of Charles V. affianced to the daughter of John, king of Portugal, and recognised as the heir of Aragon and Valencia, ii. 98 ; visits his faiher, Charles, in the Low Countries, 252, 253; his haughty and unconciliating disposition, 274; dis- liked by the Germans, ibid. ; his marriage to Mary queen of England, 353-357; tlie mar- ri.-ige treaty, 355; his landing in England, 357; menaces of Paul IV. against, 396; re- ceives the crown of Spain from his father, 403-405; negotiates a truce with Henry II. 407; wliich is broken by Paul IV. 412; the pope's violent hostility to, 413; makes war on the papal territories, 414 ; enters into a truce, 415; Charles's scheme for securing his succession to the imperial crown, 417; the pope renews hostilities with him, 422 ; at war with France, ibid. ; carries the war into the Low Countries, 425 ; induces Mary of England to declare war against France, 426; his cautious policy, 430 ; besieges Ham and Chatelet, 434; makes peace with the pope, 436 ; liis tenacity of his rights, 439 ; his con- cessions to the dukes of Parma and Tuscany, ibid.; exhaustion of his forces, 447; takes the field against Henry, 449 ; disposed to peace, 450; courts the friendship of queen Elizabeth, 461, 4G2 ; agrees to articles of peace, 465, 468 ; his political views, 46G ; his endeavours to have his father properly re- ceived upon his arrival in Spain, 506, 507 ; the state of his atfairs when his father, Charles, took up his abode at Yuste, 567 ; the French army attacks Naples, ibid. ; Soly- man threatens the Mediterranean coast, 567 ; sends Iluy Gomez to ask advice of Charles, ibid.; Charles jtromises to assist Phili)) in raising funds, 568; the bullion removed from the royal exchequer by collusion, 570 ; Charles sends him congratulations on the victory of St. Quintin, 571 ; his inattention in writing to liis father, 576 ; his general, the duke of Alva, makes victorious progress towards Home, 579 ; lie makes a treaty with the pope, ibid.; his unwillingness tliat the emperor's autobiography should appear in public, 587 ; recognises Don John as the emperor's son, 616; celebrates liis father's obsequies at Brussels, 626; visits Yuste, 627, 628; gatlicrs the remains of his kindred at tlic Escorial, 628. Philippine, nephew of Andrew Doria, defeats the Spanish galleys, i. 445. Pliliif;, Caspar, tlie Buliemian patriot, ii. 232. I'iadena. iSctCastaldo. Pichot, AmC-dce, author of " Clironique de Cliarlcs-quint," ii. 497. Piedmont, menaced by Cliarlcs V. ii. 18, 19; war in, conliniicd, 28; operations of the im- perialists in, 371 et seq. Pistoriua, a manager of the conference at the diet of Worms, ii. 75. Placentia, captured by the imperialists, ii. 237. Poland, at war with the princes of Branden- burg, i.40S; loses Prussia, 409. Pole, Cardinal, made legate to England, ii. 355 ; his endeavours to make peace between the emperor and the French, 376. Police, defects of, during the middle ages, i.l42; historical illustrations of, 592 note. Popery, doctrines of, repugnant to the spirit of Christianity, i. 279, 280. Popes of Rome, become powerful temporal princes, i. 112; union of their spiritual and temporal authority, 114; assume a jurisdic- tion superior to theemperors, 151, 152; their infdllibility asserted, ii. 385; their policy since the Reformation, 484, 485 ; their im- provement in morals, 487. (5ee Papal power.) Prerogative, royal, in France, i. 84; in Eng- land, 88; limited in Spain, 136, 137; ex- tended by Ferdinand and Isabella, 138. Prierias, a Dominican friar, endeavours to refute Luther, i. 247. Progress, social and intellectual, of Europe, i. 48. Propertv, the various revolutions of, in France and Italy, i. 522-526 note. PnoTESTANTS, origin of the term at the diet of Spires, i. 464 ; decree against them at the diet of Augsburg, 465 ; their alarm, 468 ; form the league of Snialkalde, 4(i9; their negotia- tions, 471 ; courted by Cliarles, who grants them favo\irable terms, 472, 473; articles of pacification willi, agreed to at Ratisboii, 473; their gratitude to the emperor for his con- cessions, 474. — Francis 1. attempts negotia- tions with, ii. 5; they refuse him their assistance, 6 ; their alarm at tlie atlitnde of the pope and the emperor, 42, 43; Ferdinand's concessions to the, 110; their energetic mea- sures, 111 ; Charles's concessions to the, 114 ; their high tone at the diet of Worms, 134; they suspect the emperor, 135; their alarm at the proceedings of the council of Trent, 141, 142; their deliberations, 142 145; riis sensions among the. 144; Charles's artful endeavours to deceive them, 150, 151; com- bination against the, 153 ; their alarm, 157; the pope divulges the emperor's plan against them, 160; their defensive preparations, 161, 162; their solicitations for aid, 163; tliey take the field with a large army, 164. 165; inequality of the emperor's forces to theirs, 16(i; they lose their adv.intages by inaction, 167 ; placed under the ban of the emjiire, 168; they declare war against Charles, U^!) ; injudicious conduct of the confederates, 170 ; they advance towards the imperial army, 173; but Charles declines battle, 174 ; state of their army, 176; Charles's violence against them, 279, 280 ; protected by the treaty of Passau, 320; martyrdom of, by queen Hiary of England, 358; their intolerance wlicn in power, 385, 380; the emperor's alarm at the spread of tlieir doctrines, and his etforts to resist it, 598, 599. {See Reform.ition.) Provence, invai^ions of, by Charles I. 365, 366 ; ii. 21. Piujssi A, province of, seized by the Teutonic knights in the 13th century as a fief of Poland, i. 408 ; Albert, ]iriiicc of llranden- burg, erects it into a secular and hereditary duchy, ibid.; shakes off its dependence on Poland, and tlie margraves of Brandenburg assume the title of kings of, 409. Q. Quixada, Don Luis Moiidez, major-domo of tlie empeior, ii. 507 ; his care of the emperor's son, Dun John of Austria, 508; liis charnctcr, 509 ; his prcpara ions to receive the emperor, INDEX. 649 ibid. ; his care of liim durinp his fit of the gout, 530, 531 ; Ills salary as major (lonio, 547 ; becomes permanently settled with his family at Yuste, 561 ; the emperor's provision for him, 611 ; the emperor enjoins upon him to give the care of Don John of Austria to Philip, 616; attends the last liour.> of the emperor, 617-620 ; is made one of the execu- tors of the emperor's will, 023; leaves Yu»lc, 624. R. Ratisbnn, diet at, i. 473 ; ii. 155, 15C ; terms of pacification with the Protestants ratilied at, i. 473; menaced by the Protestant army, ii. 166 ; defended by the emperor, ibid. Rebiba, cardinal, the pope's nuncio at Brus- sels, ii. 409. " Recess," or edict of the diet of Nuremberg, i. 360, 363 ; publication of a, for the settle- ment of religion, ii. 3S2, 383. Reformation, causes of the, i. 241 ; rise and profjress of the, 242 et seq. ; in Germany, 242, 258; in Saxony, 252; in Switzerland, 256 ; its early supporters, Waldus, Wick- liff, and Hnss, 262; causes contributing to its progress, 262, 263 et seq.; effect of the revival of learning on ttie, 270, 277; rapid progress of the, 357; loses its great protector, Frederick of Saxony, 407 ; his brother John a zealous patron of the, ibid. ; its continued progress, 431 ; dissensions be- tween the pope and emperor favourable to, 431,432; established in England, 4M ; un- toward results of the, 483. — Projtress of, in Germany, ii. 39 ; negotiations for a general council on the subject of, 40; partial refonna- tion by the pope, 41 ; formation of the Holy League, 42 ; progress of, in Saxony and other places, 44; its progress in tlie palatinate, 139; struggles with the emperor, 161 et seq.; spread of, in Bohemia, 231 ; almost extin- guished by Charli s, 280 ; resisted by Mary of England, 358 ; its rise and progress, during the period of Charles V. 481, 482 ; its consequences, 483; policy of the Roman pontiffs since the, 484, 485. (Sec Protestants.) Regla, Juan rie, confessor to Charles V. at Yuste, ii. 548, 549 ; administers extreme unction to the emperor, 615; named as one of the executors of the emperor's will, 623. Reifenberg, captain, ii. 324. Religion, effects of the feudal system on, i. 16, 17; state of, in the dark ages, 17, 531 note ; zeal for, occupied the minds of men at the period of the Reformation, 467; a "recess" published for the settlement of, ii. 382, 383; ancient controversies respecting, 384; perse- cutions connected with, 385. Renti, invested by Henry II. of France, ii. 362. Revenues, national, great increase of, i. 101. Rhodes, conquest of. by the Turks, i. 309. Robert de la Mark, of Bouillon, declares war ag.iinst Charles V. i. 292, 293. Rodulph of Hapsburg, founder of the house of Austria, i. 153; elected emperor, ibid. Rceux, count de, his intrigues, i. 347; proposes conditions of liberation toFra'ncis I. 384, 385. Roman catholics, their resentment against the reforiiicrs, ii. 154. Roman law, benefits of its revival, i. 56. Roman pontiffs. See Popes. Roman power, its early effects on the state of Europe, i. 1 ; decay of the, 6, 7. Romans, Ferdinand chosen king of the, i. 470. Rome, captured by the Colonnas, i. 417; assailed and captured by Bourbon, 426, 427 ; devastation and pillage of, 423 ; entered by VOL. II. Lannoy and his troops, 430; entered by Charles V. ii. 13. Roiiquillo, leader of the royal forces at Segovia, i. 311 ; defeated and forced to retire, ibid; judge of the court of Si)ain, ii. 47. Rossein, the marshal of Gueldres, ii. 96 ; com- mander of the Hungarian troops, 311. Rothman, the fanatical Anabaptist, i. 485. Rovire, Francisco Maria de, restored to liis ducliy of l'rl)ino, i. 341. Roxalana, mistress of Solyman, her scheme in favour of her children, ii. 346 ; she is made free, and is lawfully wedded to Solyman, 347, 348; awakens liis jealousy of his son Mustapha, 349, 350; who is ordered to be strangled, 351. Russia, in barbarism and obscurity during the reign of Charles V. ii. 491. Rustan, vizier of Solyman, accomplice with tl'.e mistress of Solyman in her scheme against the life of Mustapha, ii. 340-351. S. Saint Bias, the emperor's observance of the festival of, ii. 558. Saint Disier, invested by Charles, ii. 120; its gallant defence, 122; surrender of, ibid. Saint Jago, Spanish military order of, i. 139; historical illustrations of, 590, Wl note. Saiut Jerome, vulgate of, ii. 152. Saint John, the knights of, i. 309; the island of Rhodes, belonging to them, is captured by Solyman, ibid.; Charles grants them the isle of Malta, 310; accompany Charles in his expedition against Algiers, ii. 85. Saint Justus, monastery of, the retreat of Charles after his abdication, ii. 420. {See Yuste.) Saint Matthias, the emperor's observance of the festival of, ii. 556. Saint Pol, count of, taken prisoner, i. 451. Saint Ciuintin. account of, ii. 427; besieged by the Spaniards, 42S ; battle of, and defeat of the French, 430, 431 ; defended by Coligny, 433; captured, ibid; joy of Charles at the result, 571. Saluces, marquis de, succeeds Lautrec as com- mander of the French forces, i. 448; his treacliery, ii. 18, 19. Sancerre, count de, ii. 120; his gallant defence of St. Disier, 122. Sauvage, chancellor of Castile, i. 209. Savoy, occupied by Francis I. ii. 8 ; dukes of, during the reign of Charles V. 490. Savoy, Charles, duke of, exposed to the aggr?s- sions of Francis I. ii. 6, 7; his territories seized, 8; Geneva renounces its allegiance to, 8, 9 ; appeals to Charles for protection, 10. Savoy, Emanuel Philibert, duke of, general of the imperial forces in the Netherlands, ii. 343; his military skill, 361; commander of Philip's armv against the French, 427 ; in- vests St. Quintin, 428; fights tlie battle of St. Quintin, and totally defeats the French, 430, 431 ; married to the sister of Henry II. 408. Saxon emperors of Germany, i. 151. Saxons, carried on the conquest of the country with the destructive spirit of barbarians, i. 512 note. Saxony, progress of the Reformation in, i. 283 ; ii. 44; revolt in Thuringia, i. 404; revolt and defeat of the peasaiitrj', 405, 400; invaded by Maurice, ii. 181. Saxony, Fretlerick, elector of, rejects the offer of the empire, i. 220 ; declares in favour of Charles V. 221; doubts respecting, ibiil. note; protects Luther, 252, 253; seizes Luther, and conceals the place of his retreat, u u 650 INDEX. 283 ; death of, 40" ; succeeded by his brother John, ibid. Saxony, John, elector of, a zealous adherent of the rel'ormed faith, i. 407. Saxony, George, elector of, death of, ii. 43 ;. his extensive territories, 44; his zeal against the Reformation, ibid. Saxony, Henrj', elector of (successor of George), an ardent friend cf the Reforma- tion, ii. 44: his territories attacked by the emperor, 211 et seq. ; his injudicious con- duct, 214; his troops defeated at Mulliausen, and himself taken prisoner, 215 ; heroic bravery of his wife at the siege of Wit- teraberg, 217; the emperor's ferocious treat- ment of him, 218, 219 ; he surrenders the elec- torate, 220 ; which is taken possession of by prince Maurice, 221 {see Maurice); detained a prisoner, 227 ; Charles refuses to liberate him, 244; demands of several princes for his liberation, 295, 299 ; set at liberty, but ac- companies Charles in liis flight from In- spruck, 307; recovers his liberty, 325; his high character, ibid. ; relinquishes the elec- torate, 342 ; his death, ibid. Saxony, Augustus, brother of Maurice, be- comes elector, ii. 342. Schertel, the confederate general, ii. 169, 170. Schismatics, deliberations of Charles and tlie emperor respecting their suppression, i. 4(i5. Schools of the feudal ages, i. 05. Science, progress of, i. 62 ; its influence cir- cumscribed, 66 , historical illustrations of, 275 note. Scotland, her rupture with Henry VIII. ii. 100; alienated from England by Mary of Guise, 115; repudiates war with England at the instigation of Henry II. of France, 440; assents to the marriage of Mary with the dauphin, 447. Scriptures, translation of, i. 357. Sects, religious intolerance of, ii. 386. Segovia, insurrection in, on the departure of Charles V. for Germany, i. 312; successful resistance of the people to pope Adrian's authority, 314. Selim II. of Turkey, his victorious career, 1. 214. Sepulveda, the historian, the attention paid him by the emperor, ii. 575. Serfs, i. 35 ; their manumission, 547 note. Servi, thvir condition under the feudal system, i. 527 note. Sforza, family of, in Milan, i. 123, 124. Sforza, Francesco, or Francis, natural son of Jacomuzzo Sforza, places himself on the ducal throne of Milan, i. 123; his grandson murdered by Ludovico the Moor, who succeeds to the duchy, 124. Sforza, Ludovico, duke of I\lilan, 1. 124 ; is de- posed and taken prisoner by Louis XII. ibid. Sforza, Maximilian, son of Ludovico, is placed on the ducal throne of Milan, i. 124. Sforza, Francis, a descendant of Francesco, receives from Charles the investiture of the duchy of Milan, i. 387 ; forfeits the ducliy, 391 ; besieged in Milan, 410; reduced to the last extremity, 415 ; (,'harlcs grants him the investiture of the duchy, 400 ; his fear of Charles V. and his treachery, ii. 3; his death, 10. Sicily, contests for the crown of, i. 120, 121. Siena, wrested from Ch.irles, ii. 335 ; besieged and captured by Cosmo de' Medici, 368, 36!) ; ill-treatment of the Sienese, 370; Cosmo de' Medici's inirigues for, 437 ; is granted the investiture of, by Philip II. 439. Slgismun5 ■2 > r- v< -~ ^v -n V O u- 3? C ^ ^s^mmms ■'__ cS^ ,-r-l t-3 o >- r — Oc ^ ^, 30 — ■ 1 iO > '"TT ,-«t -- 3* ■zz. Tl V Sa - o U_ -',' kj-. --^ ^ - ^w-^' ^ C? «£3 %